#crosshair's eyebrows

[sanshinexx]

Here's part two of drawing my family pictures as the Bad Batch because I can and you can't stop me

[p4nishers]

no cause hunter and echo definitely talked shit out on the supply run mission

[constantlyscreaminghere]

I keep attempting and failing at drawing him in a recognizable way but I can't keep just. Deleting my attempts or I'll explode asdfghjkl

[a-lil-perspective]

U know what. Crosshair deserved to have gray/silver eyebrows. We were robbed.

[k9wa]

𑣲 RILE HIM UP ! ft BOOTHILL.

⠀ — your least favourite cyborg is brought back to you a mangled mess.

⠀ OR

⠀ — being boothill’s mechanic when you lowkey can’t stand each other.

⚠︎ sweet sweet tension, a little suggestive towards the end, gn reader (no referring pronouns), can they fuck already, this was ib by his lightcone, wc 1.9k

boothill's eyes flickered to life, emitting a faint glow of red as his systems began to reboot.

a pair of familiar red pupils met yours, two crosshairs fading into sight as boothill regained his sight and— to your dismay— consciousness.

as the cyborg regained his motion he attempted a step forward, only to realise he didn’t have the feet or legs to do so. the only thing keeping him powered on were some metal claws screwed into his back and a few loose cables connecting to your terminals.

“sugar plum,” boothill's scruffy voice cut through the silence. “do y'care to explain where my legs might’a run off to?”

you actually cocked an eyebrow. how the hell were you supposed to know? boothill was brought back to you in a mess of scraps and wiring— the damn hunk of metal was lucky you made him as blast proof as possible and he was left salvageable. 

“care to tell me how the hell you got this roughed up?”

you asked in turn, crouching down to look at the detached and ruined internals of boothill's torso where the stand-in wires were connected. you ran a finger carefully along the edge of his shredded metallic stomach.

“guess i didn't make you as smart as i thought. time for a newer model, maybe?”

boothill's eyes flickered down to his missing lower half, then to your hand that was more or less caressing him. it was amazing how much annoyance they could show in all their artificial glory.

“look who’s talkin.” the cowboy grumbled, pointy fangs poking out in an irritated grin. 

“how ‘bout, ‘gee, boothill! i’m real glad y’ain’t get blown to smithereens beyond repair!’” 

“it would've been less work for me if whoever blew you up finished the job.”

you sighed as you stood up, putting a hand lazily on your hip.

“how’d it happen?”

boothill bit back another argument with a gruff chuckle.

“some real cutie-pies i was huntin’ down had a lil’ more firepower than i expected. guess they didn’t appreciate me spoilin’ their party.”

boothill visibly cringed as his insult was substituted with some cutesy nickname mid explanation.

“and can you fix my beautiful synesthesia beacon already? this thing is drivin’ me up the wall.”

the request fell on deaf ears as your fingers typed something on your laptop, likely another string of code.

“you’re more concerned about your censor than how long it’s gonna take me to put your legs back on…” you sighed to yourself, still leaned over your workbench, eyes focused on your screen.

“i'm not touching it right now. you’re lucky i’m even letting you stay sentient after this.”

boothill snorted at the remark, brows furrowing in a steady grimace.

“well, ‘scuse me for wantin’ to speak freely–  i’m a grown man!” his pointy teeth shone as they peeked out again in a grin.

“y’know what? just leave yer lil’ tools and all the pieces there— i’ll get my legs back on myself. don’t need no charity work from the likes’a you.” he laughed. “heck, may even give myself a new pecker while i'm at it!”

the mechanic had half a mind to listen, sit back and watch boothill struggle to reassemble himself just to prove a point and simultaneously bask in his embarrassment when the former realised it wasn’t possible.

(not that he would’ve admitted defeat– you would have begrudgingly stepped in and helped before he inevitably messed up his wiring more.)

you stepped back over to boothill, hands moving to hold his cheeks so you could tilt his face side to side to check for any more damage.

“cool it, cowboy.” your eyes squinted in focus as they looked at boothill's, lightly tugging up on his eyelid to check for scratches or cracks.

“i'll get you back up and running, just lose the attitude already.”

boothill's eyes narrowed as he felt your touch on his face. the temperature difference of warm fingers on his cold, mechanical body stirring an oddity where his gut should have been. though he tried to ignore it, the sensation was there, clear as day against all his artificial nerve endings. 

“real easy for you to say,” he huffed, avoiding your eyes as he was examined like a broken toy. “let’s see how peachy you are when yer all strung up and legless, love muffin.”

that censor really was gonna drive him insane.

“just get it over with.'' boothill muttered in annoyance. “and try not t’fuss anythin’ up.”

it took quite some time, as expected, for you to successfully reattach boothill’s legs and fix his mangled midsection. when you were finally finished, you tugged out any leftover wires that connected boothill to your terminals and pushed back in your wheelie chair to beckon the cowboy forward. you pushed your glasses up to your forehead, some hair getting swept out of your eyes with them.

“feel fine?”

boothill rolled his ankles and bent his knees, giving his legs a good stretch to test their mobility.

“mighty fine,” he responded, satisfied to feel they were weighted and moved the same as before. “though i can’t say i’m lovin’ the breeze up my backside.” 

boothill glanced down at himself, steel body completely bare and lacking any of his signature clothing. 

“got my pants lyin’ around anywhere, sugar plum?”

you pointed to another table in the room, where boothills clothes— (or rather the new ones you had to go and get—) were neatly folded, his hat placed on top of them. 

boothill went to get himself dressed, hoisting up his bell bottomed pants and sliding on his jacket. he stole a glance in your direction every so often, resisting the childish urge to roll his eyes at the mere sight of you.

the artificial man hit a small bump in the road as he went to zip his jacket (could you really call it that with how little it covered?) up—  his fingers weren’t responding as well as they should have been. he could open and close his fist, but lacked the precision to pinch and hold the zipper.

“hey, honeybun,'' boothill called over to you with a furrowed brow. “didn’t i tell you not to go fudgin’ anythin’ up?”

you, in all your overtired glory groaned, turning around in your chair and waving boothill back over.

“what are you talking about?” 

“my cute lil’ fingers ain’t workin’ that’s what i’m talkin’ ‘bout!”

boothill's footsteps were clunky and loud as he stomped his way back over to his mechanic.

you reached for his hand, an uncharacteristic gentleness in your touch as you examined five mechanical fingers.

“make a fist,”

boothill obeyed, curling his fingers into his palm.

“open it,”

he obeyed again, letting them open and relax.

“hold up two fingers,”

boothill tried, but his fingers got stuck halfway into the motion, locking at the joints.

“son of a bitch.” you sighed, turning for one of your tools. “sit back down.”

boothill grumbled and went to hoist himself back onto the workbench.

“least one o’us can say it…” 

“do you want me to fix you or not?”

“i'm sittin’ ain’t i??”

you pulled boothill's shirt off his left shoulder and popped open a tiny panel on the curve of his neck, sliding your glasses back on to the bridge of your nose. with a lean forward you began carefully looking at a few thin wires that filled the space.

boothill tapped his fingers against the tabletop while you worked, that same oddity as before settling in his now repaired gut. he rarely got messed up enough for you and him to spend this much time together, or for you to have to really be in such close proximity.

it’s not uncomfortable, but the feeling is by no means familiar. it’s actually a little embarrassing– a galaxy ranger, a space cyborg and expert hunter, feeling almost flustered at some close contact like some kind of shy little girl.

“something the matter?”

boothill nearly jumped as you spoke up quietly to check on him, voice quiet and so close to his ear he had to refrain from leaning both closer and away.

“nah, everything’s just dandy.” boothill’s voice followed yours– quieter and a little softer as a result of the closeness.

“you’re sure?” you looked up from the small mess of wires, eyes glancing up at your cyborg over the rim of your glasses. “might as well fix anything else that’s bugging you while i’m here.”

boothill would have swallowed if he had the need to lubricate his throat. he shook his head, turning to look somewhere— anywhere else.

yours lingered on him, albeit briefly, observing the clench of his jaw and the way he tried to shift in his seat without being disruptive to your work. he didn’t see the little smirk tug at your lips as you refocused on the task at hand.

boothill’s cybernetic limbs felt almost human in their sensitivity, sending faux shivers up a spine he didn’t even have. the mechanics fingers running down his forearm are doing him no favours as they move to hold his hand again.

“close your fist…open it…two fingers up…”

each command was obeyed, ten gunmetal fingers finally holding up a little peace sign.

“that should be it, come see me if they start acting up again.”

you stood up, tentatively reaching out to fix boothill’s jacket and begin to zip it for him.

boothill didn’t protest the act, but it was…confusing, to say the least.

“reckon i’ll just start seein’ those auto bots again,” he leaned back on his palms as your fingers fixed his collar, straightening it out.  “much as i love our lil’ visits.”

you only hummed, smoothing out a few wrinkles and neatly tucking his scarf into it’s neckline, as he liked. “you could,” you mused, hooking your finger lightly into his collar and giving a gentle tug forward. “they don’t take as good care of you as i do, though.”

this time boothill caught the little smirk on your lips, clear as day and enough to make him question if short circuiting was possible.

you’re doing it on purpose, he knows. the careful touches to his hands and body against the sensors you put there, quiet voice leaving him with a frisson you made it possible for him to have.

boothill returned the smirk, albeit a little wobbly.

“you tryin’a rile me up, sugar plum?” 

he entertained you with a lean forward, two white crosshairs looking right at you while he considered if a hand on your waist was too forward or the perfect cornering move. 

“just like watching you squirm.”

you were gone as quickly as you’d arrived, finger unhooked and going to pick up his hat.

“but say i was,” you didn’t bother with a glance over as you made sure the brim was straight and unharmed. “i hardly have to try.” 

boothill hopped down from the table, following your path and offering a scruffy chuckle when you reached up to place it on his head.

“yeah? and what makes y’say that?” his hand found a place on his hip.

you didn’t respond— not verbally, anyway. a quick flick of your eyes downwards was all he received. 

so he followed, looking down as well, to the very appendage he had insisted you give him over and over again pushing against his trousers. 

his own dream, now his downfall. 

boothill pushed passed you, pushing his hat further down onto his head while he stomped away. the profanities that left his lips filled the air— or rather their replacements. something something i love you blah blah peach cobbler something cutie-pie or meow!

“remind me t’settle for them lovely auto bots next time!”

he opened the door with a firm kick of his boot, stomping out with a scowl. 

as if he wouldn’t be back. you took better care of him, after all.

⠀ 𑣲 MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?

[nibeul]

defective

I will be dropping my rewrite in 5 days 👍🏽

[id: it’s a drawing of Omega standing in front of Crosshair. Crosshair is wearing his black, grey, and red armor from the show and standing with his back to the viewer though he is looking over his shoulder and down at Omega. He is depicted as albino with pale skin covered in dark freckles, buzzed light blond hair, and medium brown eyes. Omega is depicted with piebaldism which has resulted in a lack of pigment in a stripe of skin down her face and a splotch on her left hand, as well as in a tuft of hair and part of her right eyebrow. She is wearing a blue and red cadet uniform sans the belt, and her brows are furrowed. While she’s depicted in the light, Crosshair is cast in shadow. /end id]

[kaminocasey]

A Great View

WARNINGS: TBB S3 SPOILERS. 18+ MINORS DNI; Smut, fresher sex, possessive/jealous Crosshair, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex between partners (Wrap it up friends), p in v, maybe slight angst?

Summary: Crosshair gets jealous when Howzer flirts with you.

Pairing: Tbb s3!Crosshair x f!reader

WC: 2k

A/N: How GOOD were episodes 6 & 7?! SO GOOD right? I've missed this man so so so much. So excited for next week. When Cross said "Oh, I'm much worse." I couldn't BREATHE. And not to mention, seeing him in his old armor again???? Forever crying over him.

“Did you like the attention Howzer gave you?” Crosshair’s smoky voice is in your ear as he pushes you up against the fresher sink on the way back to Pabu so he can tend to your wounds. 

Normally, this would be your job, tending to the batch’s wounds. And normally, if you had any wounds yourself, Tech would-

“No.” You shake your head.

He lets out a noncommittal grunt, his hand traveling up into your hair to move it out of the way so he can help clean the blood off your forehead. “Is that so?”

Crosshair was right earlier. He is worse than Hunter. But that’s what you love about him. Kriff, you’ve missed him so much…You flinch when he dabs at the cut. 

He pulls his face back some and looks down at you with a raised eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. You’re telling the truth, though.

You tell him, firmly. “I just…”

“What is it? Tell me princess.” He hums, tilting your chin up toward him so he can search your eyes.

You can feel the other clones’ eyes on you as you sit with Omega, Wrecker, and Batcher at your feet. Howzer passes by, smirking. You look up at Crosshair, who’s suddenly more tense, and then look back down at your datapad. A few moments later, Howzer brings you a drink and you thank him. 

“No problem. If you need… anything else… don’t hesitate to come find me.” He winks. 

Oh. Uh oh. 

You look up at Crosshair again, just knowing his eyes are on you at all times. He’s shooting Howzer a glare so hard you think it could usually break a normal person in half. Crosshair walks over to you, leaning against the table, next to you and then tilts your chin up toward him and kisses you so deeply, it makes your insides go warm and fuzzy with need. 

You and Crosshair had been apart for so long, he wasn’t about to let anything get in his way again. When he pulls away, you feel slightly breathless, both yours and Crosshair’s pupils are blown and you think you may need to sneak away. Except Rex breaks up the moment, needing him and Hunter for something. 

Howzer throws Crosshair his own glare and joins them, leaving you warm in the face, thinking about what you’re going to do to him tonight. Wrecker’s laugh snaps you back to reality, so you ignore him, going back to your datapad. 

You look up at Crosshair, the burning need for him returning low in your stomach. 

“I like when you’re jealous. It’s hot.” You smirk up at him as he puts a small bandage over the cut on your forehead.

Crosshair lets out a low chuckle, smirking. “I would say it’s more protective than anything.” 

“Call it what you want, it was hot.” You shrug, running your hands across his stomach, landing on his waist, gripping his shirt. 

He leans in close, his warm breath ghosting over your ear. “Yeah? You like when I let people know what’s mine?” 

You nod. “Yes.”

He hums, kissing your neck and you let out a soft moan at the feel. He lifts you up, sitting you on the sink. This sink is bigger than the one on the Marauder, so there’s more room for him to stand between your legs without feeling cramped. Not that you mind the cramped feeling. 

“You want me to take you right here? Remind you who you belong to?” Crosshair murmurs, squeezing your thighs. 

“Yes, please.” You look up at him, eyes wide with need. 

Crosshair crushes his lips to yours, finally, hands traveling to cup your neck so he can reach you better. A soft moan escapes your lips, traveling right to his, making him smirk. 

The two of you had been together the entire war and then when he chose the Empire over the batch, over you, your heart shattered and you thought you’d never love again. 

And then he got off that freighter with Omega and your heart soared. You belong to him, and he belongs to you. It’s the only thing that’s ever made sense in these dark times. 

You and Crosshair have snuck away every chance you’ve gotten since he’s come home to you, making love, desperately and passionately. So this would come as a surprise to no one, being locked away in the fresher on Echo’s ship. 

He pulls away to help you down off the sink and spins you so you’re facing the mirror. His lips turn up in a soft smirk. 

“I look rough.” You notice.

Your hair is a mess, you’re caked in blood and dirt and desperately need a shower. 

“Doesn’t matter.” He leans down and kisses your shoulder. “You’re still beautiful.”

You roll your eyes with a teasing smile. “If you say so.”

He starts to ease your pants down until they hit the floor, taking your underwear with them. “I do say so.”

And then he places a swift smack to your left cheek, causing you to let out a sharp gasp. 

“Go on. Say it.” His smoky voice fills your ears and you close your eyes, savoring the sound of it as he rubs the spot on your cheek that he smacked.

“I’m beautiful even when I look like I had the shit beat out of me?” You tease.

He chuckles. “Brat.” 

“You love me.” You open your eyes only to meet his own in the mirror.

“I do.” He nods.

It’s a promise.

He lifts your shirt up over your head, unsnapping your binder next, with slightly shaky fingers. You notice when he looks down, frustrated at his hand, so to distract him, you back up against his hardened length, making him groan softly. His hands fly to your hips, pushing you down over the sink. 

“Tell me how bad you want it, princess. Go on.” He urges you, smirking down at your naked form. 

You don’t think there are words to describe how badly you need him to fuck you right now. 

“Fuck…” You whisper. “Please… I need it.” 

“Didn’t tell you to beg. Told you to tell me how bad you want it.” He purrs, sliding two fingers through your already soaked folds. 

“I- I need it.” You whimper. “So bad. Please Cross… I c- I can’t tell you how bad.” 

His fingers find your clit and your back arches up as you moan and his grip on your hip tightens. 

“What would you do if I just got down on my knees instead of fucking you?” He teases.

All you can do is whine. 

“You really want me to fill your pussy that bad, huh?” You can hear him drop to his knees and you whine again.

“Hush.” He whispers. “Let me make you cum and then I promise I’ll fuck you as hard as you want me to. Deal?” 

He knows that his voice alone is enough to make you fold. You’ve never been able to tell the man no. Not to anything. 

“Deal…” You sigh. 

“Thank you.” He places a quick kiss to your rear cheek. 

The moment that you feel his hot tongue against your warmth, you have to put your hand over your mouth so that no one will hear you come apart above your partner. He licks stripe after stripe over your folds, getting you nice and wet for him. Your shaky breaths only spur him on.

Crosshair’s arms snake around your thighs, giving you extra security to keep you held up and you silently thank him. Unable to help yourself, though, you push back against his face, the stubble against his cheeks causing a delicious friction against your inner thighs. 

Having Crosshair on his knees like this reminds you of the first night he was home. The two of you snuck away to the beach almost immediately. Hunter hadn’t been happy about it, but it was worth it. Cross had pushed you up against a rock, kissed you until both of you couldn’t breathe and then he dropped to his knees and ate your pussy for over an hour. You lost track of the amount of times he made you cum that night. 

There hadn’t even been any apologies until after. The need for each other just… outweighed the bad. 

And now, here he is, a couple weeks later and you have a lot of lost time to make up for. 

“Fuck, right there.” You whisper.

He hums against your cunt and then sucks your sensitive clit between his teeth before latching his lips against it, making you smack your free hand against the mirror. He chuckles and pushes a finger into your tight warmth, making you groan against your palm. 

“Yeah? You gonna cum on my face, cyar’ika?” He encourages you, thrusting his finger in and out of you. 

You both know it’s not as good as his cock, but his long slender fingers have always been able to reach into you so perfectly.

“Mmhmmm.” You whine as he curls his finger against the spongy part inside of you, making that familiar warm feeling start to take over. “So good.”

The blinding white hot feeling rips through your body like a volcano, sending you over the edge, dripping down Crosshair’s face. 

He stands up, gripping your hair and pulling back so that you’re forced to watch as he pushes his cock roughly into you, making both of you moan so loudly that he has to place his free hand over your mouth so you’ll be quieter. You don’t mind though because it brings you physically both closer. You make eye contact again in the mirror and he kisses your bare shoulder, thrusting roughly into you.

“Mm.” He sighs. “You know you’re mine, don’t you?”

You nod, mumbling around his hand, answering him.

“And you don’t mind if I make everyone else aware that you’re mine?” He whispers.

You shake your head.

“Good. Fuck… So good to me.” His thrusts become sharper, more purposeful as you clench around his cock.

You know you’re going to feel it later. But it’s alright because you know he’ll take care of you later. 

“Where do you want my cum?” He grits between his teeth.

“Inside.” You mumble through his fingers. 

He buries his face in your neck, biting back a growl the best he can as he empties himself inside of you, painting your walls with himself, just how you love it. Deep and rough. You’re sure to have bruises in the shape of long slender fingers on your hip in the morning, but you don’t mind.

“Shower.” You whisper.

“Shower.” He agrees. “But first…”

He spins you around to face him and kisses you again. This time, more gently, cupping your face so carefully, he almost seems afraid that you could break. His tongue slips past your lips, dancing along yours and you cling to him, wrapping your arms around him. 

When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours. “Thank you.”

“For what?” You look up into amber brown eyes, confused.

“For taking me back, even when I didn’t deserve it.” He whispers.

You pull away, staring up into his eyes, your favorite eyes, holding his face so that he looks at you. “Listen to me, Cross… Everything you did… all the mistakes you made… they don’t define you. You have to let go of the past so that we can build our future. Okay?”

You’ve seen how much he’s changed. You see the way he is with Omega. How affectionate he is with Batcher. And more importantly, how he’s apologized to you and promised to be better. You believe him. You believe in him. 

He nods, tears nearing the brim of his eyes, so you kiss him again. 

“Speaking of our future…” You murmur softly, smiling against his lips. “A couple days ago, Shep showed me a house I thought could be perfect for us.” 

“Oh yeah?” He guides you into the shower, starting the water.

“It’s got a great view.” You wiggle your eyebrows.

“Doesn’t every house on Pabu have a ‘great view’?” He raises a dark eyebrow.

“Yeah, but not every house in Pabu has you.” You shrug. For the first time, you think since before he left, he lets out a genuine laugh. It reaches your soul and you know you’ll do anything to hear that laugh for the rest of your life.

TAGS: @rebel-finn @rexandechosandwich @madameminor @dumfanting @corona-one @tecker @ladykatakuri @brynhildrmimi @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @zoeykallus @maulslittlemeowmeow @littlemousedroid @arctrooper69 @rexxdjarin @padawancat97 @hated-by-me @sleepingsun501 @idledreams @redheadgirl @themcuwriter @ashotofspotchka @sunshinesdaydream @crosshairsimp73 @ariadnes-red-thread @rosmariner @heyitsaloy @starstofillmydream @high-ct5555 @echos-girlfriend @sleepywych @nekotaetae @justanothersadperson93 @aconstructofamind @book-of-baba-fett @chopper-base @palliateclaw @501st-rexster @dead-poolz @nahoney22 @where-is-my-mind-tho @jediknightjana @erishimoon @witching3 @queen-of-many-fandoms @wizardofrozz  @burningfieldof-clover @rebelsriley

[soaringthroughthegalaxy]

Hi. I read your work on Ao3 and I saw that you said we could come here and leave a request. Can you write something with Crosshair x fem reader with the prompt "What kind of spell did you put on me?" And if I can help you with the plot, maybe the reader could be a shy doctor who agreed to work with the boys when everyone else rejected it. There aren't many stories out there with Crosshair and a shy reader. You choose whether there will be smut or not. xoxo 🌺

Thank you so much, anon. Writing a shy reader was fun. I hope I did it justice! Kept this one SFW.

Cracks in the Wall

Not much could ruffle Crosshair's feathers or get past the wall he'd built around himself over the years - until he met you.

Pairing: Crosshair x f!reader

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: sibling banter/teasing, shy!reader, doctor!reader, Cross doesn’t know what to do with feelings but he’s trying okay, sprinkle of self-doubt from both Cross and reader, alludes to medical trauma, fluff, softness, cheeky lil’ kiss, pet names.

“Off somewhere?” Hunter’s voice cuts through their shared barracks, stopping Crosshair as he heads for the door. He’s careful to keep his voice even, suppressing the smile that’s trying to appear.

Crosshair grits his teeth, freezing at his older brother’s question. He’d hoped to get away with minimal fuss, but the Maker didn’t look to be on his side today. “Fresh air.” He answers cooly with a slight shrug, sliding effortlessly behind a mask of indifference.

“Right…” Hunter drags out the word, raising an eyebrow as he glances out the panoramic window. “In the storm?” He clarifies, knowing eyes turning back to his baby brother.

“Nah, he’s slinking off to see that pretty doctor again, ain’t ya?” Wrecker steamrollers, not one to miss the opportunity to tease Crosshair. He sits on the edge of his bunk, leaning forward like an excited child about to be told a deep secret.

Crosshair doesn’t dignify the question with an answer, though nerves have him sliding the toothpick between his lips to the other side of his mouth.

Tech knows he shouldn’t torment his twin, but when it’s been so beautifully laid out for him, he would be remiss not to. “Feeling unwell again?” He asks, tone neutral though the mirth in his eyes is unmissable.

The frustrated grunt Crosshair lets out makes his brothers chuckle, and he stalks from the room, the sound of their combined laughter only dying out once the door slides shut behind him.

Making his way down the corridor towards the medbay, the sterile white halls of Kamino make him squint, the light unnecessarily bright. He hates the constant noise and busyness here, the Regs sneering at him as he passes. He hates how sterile everything is and all the memories of being tested and tormented as a cadet.

But that hatred evaporates as he rounds the corner and spots your name on the board for ‘on duty’ doctors. At least there was one good thing about coming back.

Crosshair’s pace slows as he reaches the doors to the medbay, pesky nerves settling into his gut. He takes a moment to compose himself, adjusting his armour and smoothing a hand over his hair. He might be an expert marksman on the battlefield, but the prospect of a simple conversation with you has him feeling oddly out of his element.

You were the only doctor who’d tend to him and his brothers when they were injured, the only one willing to adapt how you worked to suit their differences. The memories of your considerate actions flood his mind – dimming the lights so he doesn’t have to squint, providing candy to uplift Wrecker’s spirits, explaining procedures to Tech, and creating a more comfortable space for Hunter’s senses. It wasn’t just out of professional duty; there was a personal touch, a kindness rarely extended to him and his brothers.

Somewhere along the way, Crosshair had found himself replaying your interactions like a cherished film, analysing every word and every gesture, searching for any signs that you enjoyed his company as much as he did yours. You never pushed or asked too much of him, never complained when he denied a test, and you didn’t draw attention to the way his body betrayed him by trembling ever so slightly whenever you approached with a needle for blood tests or booster shots.

With a deep breath, he pushes open the medbay doors. The familiar hum of medical equipment and the crisp scent of bacta greet him as he steps inside. Memories try to resurface, but he battles them down, even as his heart races.

The medbay is relatively quiet, with a few Regs resting in recovery beds and a medical droid diligently tending to its duties. And there, at the back of the room, head bent over a datapad, he spots you. He hesitates for a moment, watching you work. He shouldn’t be disturbing you; he knows you’re always busy, but since Tech had informed him that they were heading back to Kamino, he hasn’t been able to shake the urge to see you, speak to you, and exist in the same space as you.

As he approaches, his boots make a minimal sound on the pristine floor, and he clears his throat, his usually confident demeanour faltering in the presence of the one person who manages to unravel his composure. “Hey.” His voice breaks the silence, though it doesn’t draw the attention of the Regs or droids.

Caught off guard, you startle a little, glancing up. Your eyes widen slightly as you take in the man standing before you. Elation floods your body as you gaze into the sharp brown eyes you’d come to adore, and relief follows quickly at the realisation that he’s in one piece and has survived whatever mission he’d been sent on recently. For the longest time, you’d tried to convince yourself that your care for the quiet sniper was solely professional, but you were fooling no one. “Cross… you’re back.” You greet him, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

He’d never admit it, but warmth spreads through his chest at the nickname. “Didn’t mean to startle you.” He mutters, sliding his toothpick back to the other side of his mouth.

Your eyes track the movement of the toothpick before flicking up to meet his gaze, offering him a warm smile. “No problem. Just caught up in the datapad, you know how it is.”

He nods, though internally, he’s relieved by your easy response. The following silence is awkward, and your gaze dips away momentarily, but you take the initiative and set aside the datapad. “What brings you to the medbay today? Not feeling under the weather, I hope?” You inquire, concern evident in your expression.

Guilt churns in Crosshair’s gut, but he refuses to let it show. He can’t help himself. “Feeling off.” He states, the lie rolling from his tongue with ease.

With a slight frown of concern, you gesture towards the private consultation room, a familiar song and dance now. Crosshair enters the room first, depositing his toothpick in the trash can near the door before he slides himself up to sit on the exam bed while you enter. The door clicks shut, and you fall into a standard med check routine.

Crosshair answers your questions with his usual brevity, providing enough information to satisfy your professional curiosity and cover up that he’s lying to be here with you. As you work, the tension in the room eases.

As you move to the physical examination, you watch as Crosshair pries his left hand plate and gauntlet off, enabling you to slide your fingers under the cuff of his blacks, pointer and middle fingers pressed to his wrist, counting the beats of his heart.

Despite his best efforts to remain indifferent, he can’t help but feel warm at your touch, heart rate elevating.

Under your fingers, you feel his pulse quicken. It’s throwing off your count, and you know that once again, you won’t get an accurate figure, but you don’t draw attention to it, blissfully believing it was his anxiety at being in the medbay. Selfishly, you enjoy this part the most. Crosshair is warm to the touch, skin surprisingly soft, and you can stand a little closer than usual, enabling you to breathe in a scent you’ve come to associate with him – regulation body wash, blaster cleaner, and a sour sweetness you’re sure is from candy. You’ve seen how he eyes up the sour gummies you hand to Wrecker whenever you’ve finished patching up or looking over the gentle giant.

After a minute, you draw your hand back, offering a slight nod, which sees him sliding his armour back into place. Lifting your pointer finger, you wait for his gaze to snap towards it, and then you watch as he tracks it side to side, up and down, near and far. You’d recommended the addition of this check when you’d learned about his enhancements – never a defect, in your opinion – and how heavily he relied on his vision.

He tracks your finger with ease, eyes moving smoothly and quickly. “Everything seems to be in order.” You state quietly, reaching for a nearby datapad to update his medical file.

Crosshair can’t help but admire you as you tap away at the screen. He sees a great deal from afar, but being closer opens a new world. “How’ve you been?” He asks, finding himself genuinely curious. He hates small talk with a burning passion, but he’ll always make an exception for you.

“Good! It’s been busy. We had some of the boys from 184th come in, and their injuries were unlike anything I’ve seen before.” You paused in your tapping, glancing up at Crosshair, gauging whether to continue. His gaze was focused on you, and the fact he was still listening gave you the courage to continue. “I mean, I’ve dealt with blaster wounds, shrapnel, even the occasional strange accident, but this...this was something else.” You shared, focusing back on the screen before continuing the story.

“They had this inexplicable rash all over their bodies. I’ve never seen anything spread so fast. And the worst part? No one could figure out where it came from. We ran every test imaginable, yet their blood work was normal; there were no signs of infection, but this rash kept spreading.” You rambled, excited at getting to share this with him. It had been a highlight of the last few weeks – a break from the usual. “We started brainstorming, throwing around ideas, and then it hit me. We needed to check their gear, their uniform, everything. And you won’t believe what we found.” You paused again, looking up at Crosshair with wide eyes.

Did Crosshair give a damn about some Regs with a rash? No, not really. But he cared about you, and the excitement on your beautiful face, as you shared this story, meant he’d gladly listen to the tale a hundred times. “What did you find?” He asked, watching as you broke out into a smile. Sometimes, his heart ached at how easy it was to make you happy – that all it took was someone willing to listen to you.

“Coma-bloom flowers. They’d made camp beside a huge patch of coma-bloom and, while sleeping on the ground, had rolled into some of its pollen. It could’ve killed them if they’d accidentally ingested it, so thank the Maker, all they did was get it on their skin. But still…took a lot of meds, and a lot of showers, to get it out of their systems.” You explained. It had been a fascinating case, expanding your medical knowledge and driving you into exploring other fauna and flora that could be toxic to the men who swung by the medbay.

The realisation sank in quickly that you’d rambled for a while, excited over a case of troopers with a rash. Maker above, he’d think you were crazy. Head dipping a little, you tapped at the datapad screen nervously.

Your sudden shift in mood wasn’t lost on him. He’d seen his brother act the same way after info-dumping. “Smart girl.” Crosshair murmurs, a deep feeling of pride settling in his chest. The shyness that overcame you at his compliment made his gut twist. You were too sweet.

Warmth blooms in your chest at the compliment, and you busy yourself by sifting through his medical file, so you don’t dwell on the feelings bubbling inside you. “You didn’t collect the prescriptions from your previous visits...” You mumble with a frown, double-checking that you were reading his notes correctly. “Did the symptoms go away on their own?” You ask, glancing up at him.

Crosshair freezes, mind racing as he tries to devise an excuse. Any excuse would do.

They were shipped out before he could collect them? No. Once, perhaps, but more than that, and it would be obvious he was lying.

He could go down the route of feeling better before collecting them. But no, that would only make it seem like he’d been wasting your time.

With a sigh, Crosshair realises he only has one path. “They were never there to begin with.” He comes clean.

Brow’s furrowing, your head tilts ever so slightly, curious and concerned. “What? Then why did yo-“

“What kind of spell did you put on me?” Crosshair unintentionally interrupts, watching as your concern melts into surprise, your beautiful eyes blinking a few times. He reaches out, tracing a finger across your cheek before dragging his thumb across your lower lip. “You won’t leave my thoughts. Driving me crazy.” He whispers, loathing how vulnerable he feels but unable to stop himself now there are cracks in the wall he’d built up around himself.

“O-Oh…” You swallow, not sure what to do with such a confession, caught off guard by the intensity of the words and his gaze. The thud of your heart rings in your ears, and butterflies erupt in your stomach. “Urm, well, I’m so-”

Before you can finish the sentence, Crosshair presses his thumb more firmly to your lips. “Don’t you dare apologise, doll.”

Silence hangs in the air between you. Your thoughts are a whirlwind, processing the unexpected confession from Crosshair. His touch lingers on your lips, and you can feel the warmth of his skin against your face. The nickname catches you off guard, and a flutter of something unspoken stirs within you.

Crosshair, for all his stoicism, appears different in this moment. Vulnerability seeps through the cracks in his demeanour, and the intensity of his gaze makes your heart race. You can’t deny the attraction you’ve felt for him, the way your heart would skip a beat whenever he entered the medbay, but this...this is a revelation.

Finally, Crosshair withdraws his thumb from your lips, filling the room with a charged silence. It’s as if the atmosphere has shifted. “When are you next off duty?” He asks. He’d already shown his hand, and you hadn’t run away or demanded he leave – it was worth pushing his luck just a little more.

Confusion mars your brow. “Tomorrow.” You answer quietly.

“I know this great place on Kowak.” Crosshair pitches, anxiety clinging to his words despite his attempt to sound casual. He’s never been one for small talk or sweet gestures, but the prospect of spending time with you outside the confines of the medbay is something he finds strangely appealing.

Your eyes widen in surprise, the unexpected invitation catching you off guard. Kowak isn’t exactly a typical choice for a casual outing, but then again, Crosshair is anything but typical. “Kowak? Really?” You respond, a mix of curiosity and amusement colouring your tone.

He nods, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “Yeah, there’s this little cantina with the best atmosphere. Quiet, secluded. I think you’ll like it.”

A genuine smile tugs at the corners of your lips. “I’ll take your word for it. Tomorrow, then?”

Crosshair nods again, a subtle tension releasing from his shoulders. “Tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at 0900 hours.” He shifts off the exam bed, booted feet meeting the floor. He holds your gaze for a second longer before breaking it and heading for the door.

A fleeting feeling of panic laces through you. You don’t want Crosshair to go, even though you’ll see him tomorrow morning. As he reaches to press the small button to open the exam room door, you call out his name, watching as he pauses. Feet carrying you across the small space, you don’t know where the courage comes from as you push up on your tiptoes, pressing a feather-light kiss to his cheek.

Crosshair freezes at the unexpected touch, his heart pounding in his chest. The sensation of your lips against his cheek sends a jolt through him, and for a moment, he’s unsure how to react. It’s a rare instance where he finds himself genuinely caught off guard.

He turns to face you, his sharp brown eyes meeting yours. The vulnerability in his expression is back, your small gesture cracking open another layer of the wall he tried to hide behind, and Crosshair finds himself at a loss for words.

You, on the other hand, feel a mix of bravery and uncertainty. You’ve taken a leap, and now you’re waiting for the reaction, unsure what it means for the dynamic between you both. His gaze lingers on you, and the air is thick with tension.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Crosshair breaks into a rare, genuine smile. It’s a subtle curve of his lips that transforms his usually serious countenance into something softer. “You surprise me, doc.” He says, his voice a low murmur. “But I’m not complainin’.”

With that, Crosshair steps back and opens the door, sliding a fresh toothpick between his lips. As he exits the room, he glances back at you, a lingering intensity in his gaze. The door slides shut behind him, leaving you in the quiet room, heart racing and mind reeling from the unexpected turn of events.

Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough.

[gardens-light]

Undercover

In order to find something worthy of blackmailing not just the K.S.I but also the government. All agreed on a simple plan. Divide and conquer. Knowing the next moment's were critical, as it was going to test the bonds of loyalty and trust... Yet, in the midst of chaos and serious planning. Bumblebee and Drift decided do a side mission of their own- involving you and Optimus...

Content: Course language. Events takes place in Transformers- Age of Extinction. (Major spoilers in this and in upcoming chapters.) Heaps of fluff. Optimus Prime x Human F/Reader.

Word count- 5k (roughly)

Sparkmate Series- Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 (End)

"We're back!" Tessa's voice echoed throughout the main hall of the empty cathedral.

Bumblebee gave a little wave, while your attention didn't move from his thigh. Focusing on adjusting a couple of bolts, that the yellow scout has been complaining about for the past couple days.

"Hey." Cade greeted from the makeshift table. "I found a whole bunch of boxes of clothes. So Tessa, sweetie. You can find some long pants. Nice loose-fitting ones, and lose the short-shorts, okay? What you guys get?"

Tessa and Shane emptied their backpacks onto the table. Various fruits, long life items and random tools spilled in front of Cade.

"It's protein." Tessa simply said, placing the container in front of him.

"Look, I said the essentials, okay?"

"It wasn't easy." Tessa sighed, "we almost got caught."

Cade raised an eyebrow, as Shane placed a bottle of mouthwash onto the table. "You stole mouthwash?"

"I like to be fresh, when I'm making out with your daughter." Shane spoke with a smug smile.

Tessa chuckled, while you and Bumblebee looked away. Trying to hide your cheeky smiles, as the pair of you giggled under your breathes.

Cade's brows knitted together, reaching out for the bottle and throwing it across the table. "Yeah that's not happening. Ever!"

Tessa and Shane gave each other awkward smiles.

"A little bit late for that." Your teasing tone whispered to Bumblebee.

---

Walking into the main hall of the cathedral with laptop in hand. The sound of small giggles caught your attention, your movements coming to a halt as your eyes looked away from the screen. Your soft gaze falling onto Tessa and Shane whom cuddled in their little ‘love nest’ corner. Her head resting against Shane’s chest as they sprawled out on the couch, the gentle glow of the dusk sunlight bathing them in a soft colourful glow, as it streamed through the stained-glass window. Numerous candles surrounding them setting the scene just right.  

A small smile tugged the corners of your lips, I’m glad they’ve found some calm before the storm.   

“Ah-hem. Excuse me.” Cade’s voice echoed throughout the hall, “there’ll be no smooching in front of me. Thank you.” 

Speaking of storms... 

The couple broke apart, feeling Cade’s disapproval stare upon them. 

“You’re so old, Dad.” Tessa complained, “who even saids ‘smooching’ anyway?” 

A small prickle of envy crawled in your chest, as you hugged the laptop. Lowering your head a little, attempting to hide your suttle frown.  

“It can be so difficult sometimes.” Cade sighed, while drinking a protein shake. His annoyed stare looking  up at Optimus, “I’m telling ya. No respect these days.” 

Optimus nodded folding his arms across his chest, “I went through something similar with Bumblebee.” 

The small prickle of envy snipped your yearning heart, like a flower's thorn upon your skin. Bringing the laptop a little closer to your face, as your cheeks grew a little warm. As the ‘almost kiss’ between you and Optimus replayed in your thoughts.   

“Afternoon, Y/N” the sound of Crosshairs' voice caused you to jump a little.  

“Cr-Crosshairs? Sorry, you startled me.” 

“Really?” you felt his green optics study you. “Something on your mind?” 

“Just... running through the plans.” You spoke with a fake smile, “making sure everyone knows the drill, and what not.” 

You raised an eyebrow as Crosshairs briefly turned to Drift. Glancing over his shoulder at the blue Autobot, whom gestured in your direction, then to a set of stone stairs.  

“Is everything alright, Crosshairs?” your puzzled tone caught his attention.  

“Yea. Yea.” he assured with a teasing smile, “just remembered that the Big Boss wants to see you.” 

You tilted your head a little. Pressing the laptop harder against your chest, as your heart skipped a little. 

“Optimus?...” your voice was low, trying not to sound too surprised.  

“Yeah. He said it was something important, or whatever.” 

Your confused gaze switched between Optimus, whom still muttered something to Cade, and back to Crosshairs who just stood beside you. Fidgeting around his pistol.  

“Ok... well um... I guess I should head over to him-” 

A small yelp escaped your lips as he quickly got in your way.  

“No! No!” his whisper-shout came out a little louder than intended. “I-I mean...” 

Crosshairs gestured you to come a little closer, as he squatted down to your level.  

“Crosshairs, what’s going on?”  

The Autobot sighed, as his optics fell onto your unamused and confused expression. “Look... I don’t know what the Big Boss wants to discuss with you. Honestly he was very vague about it-” 

“Optimus is rarely vague about anything-” 

“My thoughts exactly. So I’m assuming it’s something important but also private.” 

Crosshairs attempted to hold a convincing smile, as your eyes studied his features.  

“Okay...” raising an eyebrow again. Your expression matching your unsure tone, “where do you think he’d would wanna talk?” 

“My best guess would be the tower behind you.”  

You briefly followed his gesture, pointing at the stone stairs behind you.  

Crosshairs shrugged at your silent question. Your eyes studied him one more time, before hesitantly approaching the stairs. 

“Well, you almost fucked that up.” 

Crosshairs glanced up at Hound, giving the Autobot daggers as he came out of hiding, once assured you were out of earshot.  

“Shut up.” Crosshairs hissed, standing to his full height. “I told you, I’m not good at this mushy stuff. If you’d ask me, I think this whole plan is pathetic.” 

“¬ you can’t handle the truth!¬” Bumblebee buzzed. His blue optics narrowing at his comrade.  

  “Autobots?”  

All froze as the sound of Optimus’ voice interrupted them.  

“What’s going on?”  

“¬Y/N wants¬ to see you¬ outside¬ Sir.” 

Optimus’ titled his head to the side, his optics giving Bumblebee a questioning gaze. “Why?” 

All speechlessly shrugged. But a annoyed whirl wheezed out of Bee, rolling his blue optics at his comrades, while impatiently grabbing Optimus’ servo.  

“Bumblebee? What?-” 

“¬Outside!¬” Bee simply repeated. Pulling his leader towards the large arch, which lead towards one of the cathedral’s courtyards.  

Optimus looked over his shoulder, giving a confused expression to the rest of the Autobots. Drift looked away, trying to hide his knowing smile. While Crosshairs and Hound simply sighed and walked away.  

--- 

Approaching the small stone balcony, a gasp left your breath as your wide eyes fell upon the most curious of sight.  

A mixture of fairy lights and string lights lit up the courtyard below. Hanging upon trees and their overhanging branches, dancing up the stone pillars which held the dome roof of a small gazebo. Delicate white lanterns lit by candlelight, was suspended above the gazebo. Their strings stretching from the balcony’s stone frame, to the nearby fence.  

Roughly potted flowers lined the courtyard’s flowerbeds, matching the drooping flowers in the large stone pots upon the balcony. A small chuckle escaping you, as your eyes fell upon a bench. Clearly from inside the cathedral, but broken down to fit upon the balcony’s edge. Dressed in loosely thrown flower petals, as it rested against the iron railings of the balcony. 

This is by far, better than Tessa’s love nest.  

Placing a hand over your mouth, attempting to hide your shy smile. As the sight of Bumblebee dragging Optimus by his servo came to you.  

The prime muttered something to the yellow scout, but Bumblebee only shook his head. Optimus’ optics tried to avoid your soft gaze, as Bee turned and went behind him. Giving the leader one final push against his back, before scuttering away.  

“This is... unexpected.” 

Your sweet tone caught his attention. Optimus’ shy gaze slowly left the floor and onto your blushing face.  

“As it is for me.” He spoke, rubbing the back of his neck. “A thousand apologies, Y/N. This isn’t- I-I mean, it isn’t my intention-” 

“It’s alright, Optimus.” you assured.  

Your warm smile made his spark skip a beat. A gentle hue of warmth returning to underneath his metal plates.  

“It’s makes a lovely change from seeing graffitied walls and boarded up windows.” 

Optimus returned your warm smile, “indeed it does...” 

You clutched onto the laptop tightly, holding it against your chest. As though it would somehow stop the rapid beating of your heart. Warmth came to your cheeks, as you shyly looked away from him. 

His scanners picked up your pulsing heart and shaky breath. 

Say something! His processors commanded. Anything! 

“The laptop in your hands? I um... do not remember you having it before.”  

Idiot!  

“Um... yeah.” You begun to fiddle with it. “I found it in the station back in Texas. I’ve been going over the plans for tomorrow.” 

Optimus nodded, “familiarizing oneself of the strategies and plans, is highly wise. That way you’d most certainly be prepared for anything.” 

You awkwardly nodded. Your foot slowly tracing invisible circles upon the balcony floor.  

I am going to whack Crosshairs with a wench next time I see him! Your thoughts scolded.  

Optimus’ digits became fidgety. His servos clenching and unclenching, as he shifted his weight from one pedal to the other. Edging a little closer to the balcony which came to his chest plate. 

His optics widening a little, as you prepared to turn away from him. 

Please don’t leave... 

“I-I would like to hear the plan.” his voice spat out. 

You gazed back at him with a raised eyebrow.  

Optimus cleared his throat, “please... I would appreciate if you’d ran a few details by me again.” 

“Sure... of course.” 

--- 

A sad whirl wheezed out of Bumblebee, lightly slapping the palm of his servo against his face plate. As him and Tessa moved away from the closed balcony doors.  

“I agree.” She muttered, “it is painful.” 

Her eyes watched as the yellow scout slouched against the bricked wall. A warm smile tugging at her lips, as Bee’s optics gazed down at his peds. 

“Hey. We can still help move things along.” 

Bee perked up at her cheerful tone. His hopeful gaze returning to her. 

“I’m pretty sure I saw a basketball downstairs-” 

“And I saw~ broken bits~ of mirror!” the Autobot buzzed. 

“Perfect!” 

--- 

“And with that, we should be straight in, straight out.” 

You looked up at Optimus with a soft smile. His gentle expression smiling back, as the redness of your cheeks never faded. His optics finding difficulty to look away for your soft lips. 

His spark tried to drive his body towards temptation, while his processors teased him with the ‘almost kiss’ back at the station. 

“I cannot help...” Optimus spoke, requiring more focus upon his words than usual. “I cannot help but be concerned for your safety. As if anything were to happen...” 

His sentence trailed off into silence, as his optics slightly widened at the sight of you reaching out to him. The cooling fans within his vents working overtime, as the Autobot tried to regulate his climbing body temperature. Your cool, soft touch sent volts of electricity through him, as your fingertips lightly brushed the back of his servo. Not knowing that you made his Spark yearn for you even more.  

“You shouldn’t be worried about me. I can take care of myself.”  

Your voice sounded like a sirens song, to Optimus’ audio receivers.  

“Perhaps something like this would ease your mind.” 

Butterflies tangled your nerves, as they fluttered in your stomach. Your heart skipping a beat, as the bazaar idea came to you. Your cheeks radiating similar warmth to Optimus, as you felt his gentle yet lingering gaze. Concentrating on each breath you took, as his optics memorized every detail of your body. How your hair subtlety moved in the cool night air, how your clothes loosely hugged your figure. Yet also leaving each curve of your hips and thighs to one’s imagination.  

“Here.” you shyly spoke. 

Taking off the ring upon your finger, and placing it into the palm of his servo. Optimus briefly studied the simple iron band, before returning his gaze to you. Your sweet smile making his breath get stuck in his throat.  

“It’s my ‘Lucky Ring’- stupid I know. But it was the first thing I ever forged with my Dad, it’s... not perfect. But I feel like it’s brought me a lot of luck, so I was thinking... perhaps... you could have it.” 

Optimus gulped, “Y/N... I-I can’t-” placing his free servo over his aching Spark. 

You slowly skootched over to him, closing the gap between you.  

“Please, I want you to have it.” You carefully guided his digits to enclose around the ring. The small item simply getting lost in his closed fist.  

“So whenever you see it, you’d think of me. And that as long as you carry this, a part of me will always be safe with you.” 

Optimus caved in to his body’s temptations. His servo leaving his chest, and quickly wrapping around your waist, gently pulling you closer.  

“I do not require an item to think of you. For you are always running through my processors.” 

The blush across your features spread towards your ears, your face never felt so warm. As the wires within the Autobot’s abdomen crossed and entangled themselves. His Spark’s rhythm matching your pulsing heart.              

Optimus’ servo gently retracted from your waist, allowing his index digit to trace your curves before holding it out in front of you. 

Your starstruck gaze trailed down from his loving optics, a breathless gap escaping your lips, as the metal plates around his wrist shifted. Thin cables slithered out like snakes, as he brought your iron ring towards them. Immediately threading themselves through the band, securing it tightly against his metal plates, only allowing the ring to dangle a little.  

Placing a hand over your silent gasp, as Optimus opened his chest plates. Reveling his pulsing energy core, blue sparks zapped away from his Spark. His hopeful optics watched his core glow brightly in your eyes, his chest raising and falling, while his vents worked overtime.  

This... vulnerable feeling? His processors questioned. Is this how it feels to find... a Sparkmate?  

Your eyes widened as a glowing shard left his chest, it center glowed slightly dimmer than his Spark.  

“This is the Great Matrix of Leadership.” Optimus explained, as the ‘S’-shape shard dance and hovered in the palm of his servo. “It’s the only thing in this universe that can revive the Spark of a Cybertronian.” 

“Optimus... it’s beautiful.” 

The Matrix rapidly spun in his palm, a blue flash bursting from it’s center, as it shrunk to the size of a small pendant. Optimus gently threaded thin copper wires, which braided themselves together, through the tip of The Matrix  

Your heart jumped into your throat, as Optimus guided the necklace towards you.  

“It is my gift to you. So a piece of me is always with you-” 

“O-Optimus?-” 

“It will protect you from any harm. And if should anything ever happen to me, you’d be the one to ignite my Spark. For it’s you, who makes it pulse through my wires.” 

While the familiar sensation of a loving bond enveloped the pair of you. His knuckles caressed your cheek, as he gently placed The Matrix necklace around your neck.    

“Y/N... believe me, this is not something I do, nor say lightly." Optimus gently admitted, "I can’t give you normality, or anything a regular human could offer. But what I can give, is everything that I am.” 

A loving sigh escaped his lips, as you briefly caressed his cheek. Your hand trailing towards his neck, and your fingers tracing the back of his helm. Optimus’ chest closed again, as he placed his free servo around your waist again. Gently sweeping you off your feet, and bringing you closer to him.

"By my Spark, I would protect you. Adore you. Cherish and support anything that's important to you. If doubt ever aches your heart, I will not rest till I can do everything I can, to free you of such feeling."

He placed a gentle kiss upon your forehead, running a digit through your hair. As his optics shined with hope and love.

"And if you ever wished for a piece of the night sky. I would go to its depths, and bring you back the brightest star." 

--- 

“What are you two doing?” Shaned asked raising an eyebrow. As his puzzled gaze fell upon Tessa hoisting up a mis-shaped, makeshift disco ball, while Bumblebee helped guide it. Attempting to not allow the object to knock against the broken window. 

“~Kiss the girl~” the Disney song buzzed from the scout’s radio. 

“Their leader has fallen for my sister.” Tessa briefly explained, “something about her being Optimus’... what did you call it, Bee?” 

“A~ Sparkmate~” 

“Yeah... that...” 

Shane placed his hands upon his hips. A smile tugging at the corner of his lips, “and that explains the uh, disco ball, how?” 

“~setting the mood~ for ~true loves kiss!-” 

“What racket are you two making now?” Crosshairs sighed.  

All three turned to the green Autobot, as he crouched near the landing of the stone steps. 

“Her sister, your boss.” Shane briefly spoke. 

Crosshairs folded his arms across his chest plates, “you two still wasting time with that nonsense? I told you, there’s no such thing as a ‘Sparkmate’-” 

“~what would~ you know~ about~ Sparkmate’s?” Bee challenged, letting go of the makeshift disco ball. 

“Bee!” Tessa cried, as the rope almost lifted her off the ground. 

The scout quickly grabbed the mirror coated ball, saving Tessa from flying a tall height. 

“It’s a interspecies relationship.” Crosshairs groaned, “such thing has never been heard of back on Cybertron.-” 

“~Love~ comes in~ different shapes!-” 

“Ugh, guys.” Shane’s small voice interrupted, as his surprised expression gazed out of the window. “You should take a look at this...” 

--- 

Eyes closed and embracing one another. A satisfied hum rumbled in the back of Optimus’ throat, as his lips mimicked yours.  

Your heart fluttered, as The Matrix necklace rested against your chest. Your free hand trailed down from the back of his helm, towards Optimus' chest plate. Feeling the vibrations of his Spark, as it burst like small firecrackers.  

A muffled moan slipped from you, as his glossa entered your mouth. Deepening the kiss and exploring your flavour, he gently bit your bottom lip. Encouraging your tongue to enter his mouth.

The desire of wanting more knotted in Optimus' admonian, as one of his servo’s explored the curvature of your back. Reaching down towards the waistband of your trousers, slipping his digits underneath the fabric. Butterflies in your stomach, caused the lowest pits to do backflips. As you felt Optimus' servo play with the lace of your undergarments, before giving your ass a cheeky squeeze.   

A warmth built up within your core, as your body pressed against Optimus’ chassis. Small volts sparked throughout his wires, as your bust pushed up against him. Taking a moment to pull away from the kiss, as his optics took a cheeky sneak at your cleavage.  

S-Sweet Primus! 

A flickering flame built up within his core, as dirty thoughts intrude his processors. 

His servo cradled your back, as you leaned back a little. Allowing the prime to plant soft kisses along your collar bone, and up towards your neck. 

“Y/N... my Sweet Spark.” His toned rippled against you, causing excited shivers to run up your spine. 

“Optimus-” 

‘Crash!’ ‘Shatter!’ 

“Bumblebee!” the sound of your sister’s voice interrupted the silence. Followed by a sad whirl wheezing from the yellow Autobot.  

You and Optimus looked at the window, which overlooked the balcony. Just seeing a glimpse of Shane and Crosshairs ducking out of sight.  

An awkward chuckle erupted between the pair of you, as you and Optimus slowly broke away from one another. Your fingers and his digits tracing each others arm and down towards the palm. 

“We uh... should head back inside.” You lowly spoke. Cheeks blushing from the afterglow.  

Optimus tenderly kissed your cheek, before returning to his full height. “Indeed... perhaps, we could continue this another time?” 

Next Day

“Calm down. Calm down.” Shane nervously muttered to himself, as Bee slowly rolled up to the back entrance of K.S.I. 

“Y’know... in times like this, the idea is to keep cool, not look cool.” Cade sighed in the passenger seat. “So why don’t you lose the sunglasses?” 

Shane removed the item as Cade briefly glanced at him. 

“About a month ago, I thought I heard noises in the middle of the night. Was that you?” 

Shane gave him a wide eyed stare, “what? You’re asking me this now?-” 

“Don’t lie to me, kid. You see that guy with the gun out there?-” 

“There’s so many guys with guns!” his panicky tone hissed.  

“Let’s get out the car and tell him we’re about to break in.” Cade’s voice kept it’s calm and collected tone, “we could admit it was your idea. Cause I don’t care, I’m old, I’ve already lived long enough-” 

“You have a real bad habit of having these conversations at the wrong time, man!-” 

“You wanna come clean, or you want me to make a mess?” 

Shane’s heart leapt into his throat, as Cade cleared his throat. Attempting to politely get the attention of one of the guards, “Sir, can I talk to you for a second please?” 

“It was me. It was me” the Irishman lowly repeated, as the guard forced Cade’s door shut. Giving Cade a stern expression while shaking his head.  

“Taking it in for scanning?” another guard address Shane, while Bee rolled down the driver’s window. 

Shane silently nodded, holding up the forged K.S.I staff badge. The guard scanned it, looking over the pair before approving them to go ahead... 

The Camero rolled through a hanger of polished concrete floors, and wooden walls painted black. Shane and Cade scanned their surroundings, avoiding eye contact from passing staff members.  

“We took old, alien technology and made it better in every way.” A feminine voice echoed over the P.A system, “introducing Stinger.” 

Bumblebee rolled to a gentle halt, as Cade’s wide eyed stare glanced up at a pink Transformer. Which was displayed in the middle of the hanger. 

“That’s a bad-ass robot.” Shane admired, leaning closer to the windscreen. 

“Kinda looks like you, Bee.” 

Bumblebee revved his engine, disagreeing with Cade’s observation. 

The Texan got out of Bee’s passenger seat, slowly approaching the display. He looked around the hanger, before activating the video recording system, that Crosshairs’ hid into Cade’s smart watch. 

“Can you see this, Sweetie?” Cade whispered to you through his ear piece.  

“I see it, Dad.” Your polite tone confirmed. “What the hell are these guys doing?” 

“Looks like, they’re trying to build their own versions of the Transformers-” 

“Well, at least they’re picking cooler cars than this.” Shane interrupted.  

Bee revved his engine again, pushing his stirring wheel out of the dashboard and into Shane’s face.  

“¬You talk to me like that?¬” the yellow scout buzzed angrily.  

“Dad? What’s going on?” your voice scratched through Cade’s ear piece. 

“Nothing, Sweetie. I’ll send more stuff your way if I find anything.”  

Cade quickly deactivated the recording, approaching Bee’s passenger door again.  

“See what happens, when you try and be a smart-ass?” he hissed at Shane.  

Shane crawled out of the Autobot’s altmode. As an advertisement projected itself onto a screen, behind the Stinger display.  

“Inspired by Bumblebee. But better in every way” the femiline voice continued through the screen. 

“~What?~” Bee’s radio harshly buzzed. “~Son of a-” 

“No! No!” Cade yelled at the Autobot, whom decided to do burnouts in the hanger. Marking up the polished concrete floor, “you gotta calm down!” 

“Bee! Stop messing around!-” 

All froze as the sound of voices filled the hanger, Cade and Shane’s nervous stares glanced up at a group of people walking through doors on the opposite side of the hanger.  

“Hey!” one of their voices called out. “You two! Grease moneys!” 

"Oh shit..." Shane muttered. "That's Mr Joyce, the CEO of K.S.I." He nervously tried to hide behind Bumblebee, as the individual dressed in a fine tailored suit, and glasses approached Cade.     

“What the hell is going on here? And what’s with this vintage crap?” He hissed in an hushed whisper.   

Bee revved his engine as Mr Joyce gestured towards the Autobot.  

“We’re not scanning collector junk.” Joyce's tone held an amused tone, matching his expression. As he continued to talk to Cade, “what is it that you think we make here? Hmm? We make poetry here! We’re poets! When you work for me, you get to make one mistake. One. Understood?”  

“Yes Sir.” Cade professionally spoke, “understood. It won’t happen again, Sir.” 

“It certainly won't.” Joyce sighed, “now... let’s get this pathetic thing out of here. And you, too.” 

Cade silently nodded, feeling Joyce's stare look over him again. Before returning to the rest of the group, and escorting them out of the hanger.  

Shane released a heavy sigh of relief, that he had been holding in the whole time. 

“You and Bee leave here quietly.” Cade spoke, as he looked at the Irishman over his shoulder. “I’m going to try and have a look around. Hopefully Y/N is doing better than us...” 

--- 

Your heels clicked along the marble floor, as you walked across the lab of the basement level. Scientists, engineers and various staff hovered around tables. Your hand clenching into a fist inside the pocket of the lab coat, while your free hand fiddled with The Matrix necklace. Your eyes looked at the multiple pieces of alien tech, which scattered across the metal tables throughout the lab.  

Your saddened gaze fell onto the heart-wrenching sight before you. A small gasp getting trapped in your throat, as your heart sunk deeper into your chest.  

You poor darling. You thought, as the lab-techs melted and pulled parts off, of a decapitated green Autobot helm. What have they done to you?-   

“Metal.” A blonde woman wearing a smart three-piece suit approached your side, her blue eyes following your gaze. As you played with your smart watch, discreetly sending the video footage to Drift.  

“Just metal. Well, that’s what I always thought of them.” 

“You’re wrong.” She gave you a puzzled side glance, as you tried to hide the breaking of your voice. “They’re more than that. They’re living beings with souls- like you and me.” 

You pulled a weak smile, “I uh, spoke to one... once.”  

“And you’re working with Transformium?” 

She studied your silent nod, before turning her attention onto a clear canister filled with a gray substance which looked like sand.  

“I’m out there digging for it.” She sighed, “there’s just not much left to find.” Her eyes flickered back to the Autobot’s helm, “so that how badly you guys need more, huh? Reduced to melting old Deceptions?” 

“That’s not a Deception.” You corrected, “that’s an Autobot. The ones who fought for us-” 

“They slaughtered Ratchet!” Optimus’ angry voice yelled through your ear piece. Almost hurting your ear drum. “I’m gonna tear them apart!” 

A loud sound of something falling echoed throughout your ear.  

“Excuse me.” You kindly spoke to the blonde woman, as you took a few steps towards one of the exits. “Optimus? Can you hear me?” 

Only radio static responded to you. 

“Crosshairs? Drift? Can any of you hear me? Please! Don’t do anything rash.” 

More static. 

An uncomfortable knot twisted in your stomach.  

Why do I have a bad feeling about this?- 

“Security to Level 3, please. Security to Level 3.” A voice echoed over the P.A system. 

Now what?    

--- 

Shit! Shit! Shit!                

Cade ran across the third level of the K.S.I building. Alarms going off over the P.A system, as security followed him. 

Dodging between frozen staff members, and bursting through random doors. Cade almost made it back to the lift, which lead down back to ground level.  

But he had to come to a skidding halt, as more security guards cut him off. Aiming their weapons in his direction.  

“Up against the wall! Hands behind your head!” 

A heavy sigh left Cade, as he peacefully co-operated. As the security grabbed his arms, placing them against his back and pinning him against the window.  

“Corporate espionage.” A familiar voice caught Cade’s attention. Looking over his shoulder to see Mr Joyce, “that’s a very serious crime, Mr. Yeager. How I didn’t recognize you before baffles me, but no matter-” 

“Look! Before this goes any further, I want a lawyer!” Cade protested. “Th-The Justice Department. Somebody I can trust! I’m just trying to protect my family, okay? Not from your company! From the government!” 

“I can take it from here, Mr. Joyce.”  A new individual entered the scene, Joyce studied the new stranger before walking towards the lift at the end of the hall.  

Cade studied the new individual. A middle age man stood before him, well dressed like Mr. Joyce but his scalp reveling a receding hairline. Firm yet studious eyes hid behind thin glasses. He made a simple gesture at the security. Allowing Cade to face him fully, while rubbing his wrists a little.  

“My name is Attinger, Mr. Yeager.” He introduced, “and who do you think I work for?” 

Cade studied Attinger’s sly smile. 

“You’re trying to protect your family, that’s admirable. And I’m trying to defend the nation from a alien war, we’ve had a taste of what that looks like.”  

He carefully approached Cade, “and we’re certainly not going to tolerate another. Now... there is a version of this conversation, where you get to back to your barn. Your youngest daughter graduate with honor's, while your oldest gets a full-time position with any company within the U.S.A. I’ll even advocate for her personally for a six-figure salary, should she choose to work with me. And life as you know it, goes on.” 

Cade raised an eyebrow, as Attinger continued. 

“You and your daughters have no idea, what you gotten yourselves into.” 

“And what’s the other version of this conversation?” Cade challenged, bring a frown to Attinger’s features. “Sending in your ‘hired help’ to murder my little girls? Or are you going to man up and do it yourself?” 

“Depends on your preference, Mr. Yeager... I don’t ask much. You can still turn things into your favor. All you have to do, is convince your eldest to tell me where Optimus Prime is.” 

A cheeky smile came to Cade, as the reflection of Bumblebee in the nearby window caught his attention. “I didn’t raise no snitch-” 

‘Crash!’ 

--- 

Screams echoed throughout K.S.I as Crosshairs and Hound accompanied Optimus. Bursting through high windows, showering everyone below in a rain of glass, as the Autobots made their way through the lower levels. 

Crosshairs raised his pistol above his helm, firing warning shots as the trio entered the lab. 

“Get out! All of you!” Optimus roared, as people scattered away from him.  

“Science fair’s over, meat-bags!” Hound’s voice thundered.  

“Destroy the lab!”  

The Autobots happily carried out their leader’s orders. Crosshairs and Hound fired at the piles of alien technology, kicking tables and igniting all manner of equipment.  

“Excuse me!” You squeaked, trying to push through the flood of people exiting the lab. “Out of my way, please!” 

“Destroy it all!”  

Your pounding heart ached a little, as Optimus’ rageful voice yelled commands. 

“Hey!” Joyce's voice roared over the gunfire, storming over to the Autobot leader. “Hey! Stop! That’s company property!” 

“They’re not your property!” Optimus challenged, as he stood over Joyce. Allowing Hound to satisfyingly kick a table filled with alien parts.  

“They were my friends!” 

Joyce’s studious gaze analyzed the situation.  

Finally pushing through the crowd, your eyes widened as Hound clocked his cannon. The weapon releasing a humming sound, as he aimed it at Joyce.  

“Oh, you not talking so much now!” a smaller Autobot teased. “Not so tough when Hound is in front of you, huh?” 

You watched the small Cybertronian climb onto the barrel of Hound’s cannon, his optics glaring daggers at Joyce.  

“Go ahead.” Joyce calmly taunted, “show us your true colours, once and for all-” 

“Just give me the word.” Hound smiled, “I’ll splatter him-” 

“No! Don’t!” you cried.  

“Why don’t you tell Itchy Fingers here, that this is all the spoils of war?” Joyce challenged, “dead metal. Innovation. That’s what we do here, it’s simply science! Because if we don’t do it, somebody else will! Because you cannot stop technology!-” 

“We’re not your technology!” Optimus roared.  

You ducked as the Autobot blindly kicked machinery into your direction. Causing sparks to erupt from power-ports, and machinery bits fly over your head.  

“Optimus! Stop!” you begged.  

“Let me vaporize his ass!-” 

“Don’t do it, Hound!” 

You quickly approached Joyce, standing between him and the barrel of Hound’s cannon.  

"Out the way, Y/N." Hound's tone of voice sounded more like a warning, than a pea.

"No, I wont." You gazed into his green optics, range faded as sorrow filled them. "You're better than this Hound. Please... lower your weapon."

Hesitating for a moment, the Autobot grumbled. His cannon slowly shutting down, placing the weapon over his shoulder.  

“I broke the code. I own your whole genome.” Joyce spoke with a smug expression. Confidence returning to his tone, since you've became his 'shield.'  

“Keep digging your grave!” You hissed turning your whole body to him. “I’m not here for your sorry ass!” 

Optimus crouched down to your level, lowering the barrel of his weapon. As his servo went from the weapon's trigger, and reached out for you.

“Y/N...?”  

“We’ll tell the world what’s happening here.” You promised. Looking up at him, giving his index digit a comforting touch.  

Your voice almost soothing Optimus’ rage filled Spark.  

“Interesting... you allied yourself with them?’” Joyce questioned, gesturing at you and Optimus. His curious gaze switching between the pair of you, "or... am I sensing something, a little more?-"  

"I'm giving you one chance." You firmly spoke, turning your attention back onto Joyce. "Stop doing this. Or the whole world will know what's happening here! What you're doing them!"

Joyce snickered at your words, “the world? The world would approve, my dear. We can make them now. Don’t you get it? Humanity doesn't need the Transformers anymore-” 

“You’re wrong!” You said, shaking your head. “Humanity will always need the Cybertronians.” 

A weak smile came to Hound, “you tell him Y/N.” 

Optimus studied you and Joyce, puffing out his chest and releasing a unsatisfied huff.  

“Autobots... we’re done.”  

Tag List

@ursamajor17 @crowleysthings @k----a27s @lainekyuu @manticcashew @goreismyforte @imachaoticghost @person101lol

[webslinger-holland]

Boys Will Be Boys | Hunter or Crosshair from The Bad Batch

Summary: In which the team's medic always finds herself patching up Hunter and Crosshair after one of their 'disagreements.'

Warning: language, mentions of rough fighting and severe injuries (inflicted by one another), bruised bones and knife wound, mention of stitches and needles, slight blood, and quarreling brothers

Pairing: Hunter x Fem!Reader Medic or Crosshair x Fem!Reader Medic

Type: Oneshot

Word Count: 2.8k

Note: Fully inspired by Echo's line of dialogue shown below

For the first time in a long time, the Marauder was nearly empty and entirely quiet. The only sound that could be heard was the soft humming coming from the team's medic who'd chosen to stay behind on one of the missions. You made sure to keep yourself busy, opting to organize a few bins of medical supplies on the nearby shelf.

The peace and quiet had suddenly broken when the familiar sound of Wrecker's booming voice called from the outside of the ship. You didn't really think anything of it at first because Wrecker naturally had a loud voice. But what you didn't realize was that he was calling for you.

The chaotic mess that accompanied them began to trail into the entrance of the ship. Their loud footsteps and intermixing voices filled the space, calling for you once again. And this time, you heard them more clearly.

Rounding the corner of the cockpit, your gaze immediately fell on the horrific sight in front of you. You gasped a little louder than anticipated, hands flying up to cover your mouth.

Currently, Wrecker had one of his bulky arms underneath Hunter's arm to support his weight and help him into the ship. The sergeant was barely able to stand on his own two feet and was clutching the side of his abdomen, wincing at each movement due to the severe pain. His bottom lip was also cut and bleeding slightly.

Behind them, Tech was doing the exact same thing only with Crosshair beside him. Now Crosshair didn't look any better. He walked with a limp and he had a black eye on the right side of his face which was only growing deeper in color with each passing second.

Both Wrecker and Tech were careful to escort the other two into the cockpit. They helped them onto the medical table, double checking to make sure they were settled before beginning to help them strip away the parts of their armor. They meticulously took off each piece with great care so that they wouldn't cause further pain.

Once they were finished putting the spare armor pieces to the side, Wrecker and Tech went to step away and silently joined Echo in the background. The two of them sat in only their blacks. You hurried to stand in front of them, taking a brief second to take in what was in front of you.

"W--What the hell happened to you two?" You demanded an explanation because you had honestly never seen them in a worse state. The two of them kept their eyes closed as they continued to writhe in pain.

"Nothing," Hunter grunted out while still clutching his side. He keened forward in his place in hopes of easing his discomfort.

"We knew what we were doing," Crosshair added. He was panting slightly as if trying to catch his breath. You glanced between the two of them with furrowed eyebrows.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You wondered. You were curious if they were keeping something from you as their vague answers did not satisfy you.

"Ask him," Crosshair hissed. He seemed to glare at his older brother through the corner of his eyes.

"Can we not talk about this right now?" Hunter pleaded. The pain was becoming almost too unbearable for him. He withdrew his hand from his side only to show that his hand was caked in his own blood.

"I'm not doing anything until one of you tells me what the hell happened," you reminded them. Waiting for an answer, you crossed your arms over your chest and glanced between the two of them. Neither of them wanted to look directly at you.

Hesitantly, Hunter lifted his head and looked at his brother sitting right beside him. He breathed steadily to himself to maintain his composure. He desperately needed some medical assistance, but he knew how stubborn you were. So he needed to come up with something.

"M-Mercenaries," Hunter spoke through gritted teeth.

"Mercenaries? Really? " You repeated with a cocked eyebrow. He nodded his head. "You need to work on your lying skills."

"I'm telling the truth," Hunter reassured her. He made a point to hold your gaze, but you still didn't believe him.

"Tech?" You called from over your shoulder without looking away.

"They were otherwise occupied in one of their fights," Tech replied without hesitation and without looking up from his data pad.

"Again?!?" You spoke with such shock that it caused both of them to wince at your words.

"Look," Hunter began. "We didn't really mean to take it as far as we did--"

"Bullshit," you interrupted him. You gestured to his side that he still clutched to help with the bleeding. "He stabbed you for crying out loud!"

"He was really asking for it," Crosshair commented. His eyes still flashed with anger. "And he started it anyways."

"I don't want to hear it," your voice rose a little louder to speak over him. You raised a hand to stop them. "This is the fourth fight you've gotten into this month. And I am here wasting precious materials to fix and bandage you both up each time. It's getting ridiculous!"

"We're sorry," Hunter spoke timidly.

"Don't tell me you're sorry. Tell each other you are sorry."

Neither of them were willing to do this which just proved how narrow-minded and stubborn headed they were towards each other.

Quickly turning away from them, you hurried towards the neatly organized shelf of medical supplies. You reached for various materials, stuffing what you could carry into the contents of your arms. Returning to the medical bench, you laid out the tools to view and inspect clearly.

Using your own data pad, you quickly took a thorough scan of the both of them to survey the extent of their injuries. While Hunter had sustained a knife wound to the left side of his abdomen, it had thankfully not pieced anything important. His knuckles were incredibly brushed and bloody. His lip was cut roughly. He'd definitely feel sore in the morning from taking such a harsh beating.

On the other hand, Crosshair managed to sprain his ankle during his tumble with his brother. He had two bruised ribs which he was lucky they didn't break. And he sported a nasty black eye right over his tattoo.

You quickly assessed that you'd need to help the sergeant first given that he had a knife wound and was still bleeding slightly. You handed the sniper an ice pack for his eye to temporarily ease the pain before you directed all of your attention to the other brother. You gingerly stepped forward to stand between his legs, reaching forward to grasp the edge of his top.

You made sure to help him out of the top of his blacks carefully, being extra mindful of the wound on his left side. He winced slightly as the material bunched around his shoulder. With great discomfort, Hunter managed to raise his arm in order to slide and remove the rest of his top from his arms. He discarded the piece of material onto the floor without a care in the world.

Now Hunter was sitting shirtless on the medical bench. His hand returned to the spot on the side of his abdomen, which was caked in his dried blood and still oozing with fresh blood under his fingertips. Taking the bottle of alcohol disinfectant, you doused a cloth in the clear liquid. You needed to clean the wound before you'd be able to stitch it up.

"This might sting a little," you spoke honestly.

With some hesitation, Hunter removed his hand from his side to allow you space to work. You carefully brought the wet cloth to his bleeding slide, pressing it into the gaping skin. As if on cue, Hunter practically lurched forward in his place. He gripped the edge of the table so tightly that his knuckles started to bleed again. His eyes squeezed shut to block out the pain.

"Sorry," you added because you hated seeing him in pain.

You went to wipe away some of the remaining blood around the wound and cleaned the skin thoroughly. Tossing the bloody cloth onto the table, you went to retrieve a needle and thread so you'd be able to sow it shut right afterwards. You threaded the string through the eye of the needle, leaning forward slightly to begin stitching his skin back together.

This wasn't the first time you'd given any of them stitches since they had many wounds inflicted to them over the years. However, this one could have easily been prevented if Hunter and Crosshair hadn't gotten into their little fight. You worked swiftly and steadily with the needle.

"What was it this time?" You asked out of pure curiosity and you could have sworn that the sergeant tensed under your touch. The two of them glanced at one another as if trying to secretly trying to relay something.

"Like he said: it was nothing." Crosshair spoke for the both of them. He drew his gaze away from his older brother. He recalled the conversation leading up to their fight, but it only made him angrier in the moment.

"Tech?" You repeated without looking away from your work.

"They were fighting over you this time," Tech replied without missing a beat. You raised your eyebrows in slight surprise at this confession, but your thoughts were quickly interrupted.

"Such a fucking tattletale," Crosshair scoffed. He sent his twin a deadly glare, but Tech didn't even seem to notice. He was too absorbed in the contents of his data pad. "He's always been like this," Crosshair said to his brother beside him.

"Yeah, I know. I was always there," Hunter grunted as the needle threaded through his tatted skin once again.

"At least I wasn't a biter as a cadet," Tech shot back. That was when he decided to lift his head so that he could look directly into his brother's narrowed eyes.

"You did bite a lot of people, Crosshair." Wrecker released a hefty laugh. He arms crossed over the length of his chest. He smiled at the fond memories of them as little cadets. "The regs especially."

"Just leave already," Crosshair growled at them.

Not wanting to anger him any longer, the other three members filed out of the cockpit and retreated back into their bunks for the night. They sealed the cockpit door behind them.

"Going back to this fight..." your voice seemed to betray you and trailed off into nothing. You glanced between the two of them as if searching for some kind of answer. "You were fighting over me?"

A quick tie of the thread and a cut with scissors meant your work was done for stitching. Neither of them seemed to say anything as you retrieved some more gauze from the side. You took one of the sergeant's big hands into your own, turning it over to begin wrapping his cut knuckles.

"Yeah," Hunter breathed steadily. He didn't even realize what he confessed to at first, but it was much too late now. "We were."

His eyes were transfixed on the way your fingers moved so delicately against his own. His breath had since caught in the back of his throat. He no longer felt the severe pain coursing through his side. You always managed to make him feel better and it wasn't just your medical skills that did the trick.

For the longest time, Hunter had been utterly fascinated by you. It went far beyond your medical knowledge and expertise in the field. You were known to be an honest and genuine person; someone who every member of his squad had grown to love and respect. You were a gentle-hearted soul which brought a newfound warm light to the otherwise hardcore company of brothers.

Slowly, Hunter watched the way you raised your head to look at him through your lashes. You had just finished wrapping his knuckles, gently laying them back down in his lap. He could feel your breath fanning against his face as you stood right between his legs. He briefly glanced down at your lips. And he wanted nothing more than to capture them in his own. But he knew better than to do something so careless.

You missed the quick glance he casted to your lips, but your eyes were fixed on his cut. You really couldn't do anything about the cut on his lip; it would heal in its own time. He silently thanked you with his gaze alone. And now your attention went to his younger brother sitting beside him.

"Why were you fighting over me?" You asked them with a hint of genuine concern behind your facial expression. You wondered if you'd be able to get a response out of the sniper now that all your attention was directed to him.

"We...we share...a common interest," Crosshair confessed honestly. He would have never said if the rest of his brothers were present, but there was just something about the way you looked up at him that made him cave.

Kneeling down onto the ground, you were able to hoist his bad leg onto your lap. You began to wrap his ankle carefully because you didn't want to cause him anymore pain than he was already in. You looped the stream of gauze around the backside of his ankle, bringing it back over the side and to the front. You briefly glanced up at him.

"In me?" You wanted clarification.

Both Hunter and Crosshair silently nodded their heads in response.

Avoiding their gaze, you went back to tying the knot on the wrapped ankle in your lap. You rose to your feet in a slow manner. You reached for the end of the sniper's top, carefully helping him remove it until he too was shirtless like his brother.

You had seen them shirtless countless times before and you always managed to remain medically professional. But there was something different about them now. This newfound revelation made you look at them in a slightly different light. The mere sight of their bare chests had your breath catching in the back of your throat. You knew if you weren't careful in regulating your breathing, Hunter was going to catch on sooner than later. Hell, he might have already caught on at this point.

You began to wrap a supportive brace around Crosshair's torso of bruised ribs, knowing that they'd need the extra support to help heal over the next couple days. You made sure not to make it too tight or too loose, watching for any discomfort behind his eyes. But you never saw any.

Now, having finished tending to their various injuries, you took a single step backwards and stood timidly in their presence. You still weren't able to look either of them in the eyes. When you realized how long you'd been silent and that they were waiting for some type of response from you, you tried to find the right words to express yourself.

"This is unexpected," you spoke softly. You just couldn't believe that two brothers had gotten into a quarrel over you. It went so far that one of them got stabbed this time around.

Had they fought over your before this? What were they fighting over specifically? Who else knew about this? And what else were they willing to do for you?

"You don't have to do anything with this information," Hunter wanted to reassure you. "And I hope this doesn't make things weird between us."

"It doesn't," you confessed with a small shake of the head. The corners of your lips twitched into a smile. "I'm certainly flattered...and honestly at a loss for words right now. I'm not really sure how to feel."

"You can have all the time in the world to think about how you feel," Hunter replied. He didn't have any expectations of where he wanted this to go for him, but he did want you to be comfortable around them. And you were going to need time to do that now that they had confessed to you.

"I'll...see you both around," you mentioned rather awkwardly.

Taking another step backwards to dismiss yourself from their presence, you wanted to get out of the cockpit before they could see the evident blush creeping onto your cheeks. You sent them a small wave and slipped out of the cockpit before they could say anything else to you.

Just as the door closed, Hunter and Crosshair seemed to breath a small sigh of relief. Their gazes were now directed to the solid steel floor underneath them, thinking about the confession and conversation that had just transpired.

"Well, that's out of the bag now." Crosshair spoke up first.

"Give her some time. I'm sure it's a lot for her to process. She'll come around," Hunter shrugged his shoulders.

"When she does come around, I hope you won't be too heartbroken with her choice." Crosshair taunted him. A sly smirk curved near the corner of his lip, knowing the mere power of his words and how they always managed to irritate his older brother. A deadly glare was sent his way in response.

Crosshair knew just the right thing to say to get under his brother's skin and if he wasn't careful, Hunter was bound to start another quarrel with him. But that's just something brothers do.

[ecliphttlunar]

Medicine - Chris Sturniolo

Summary: You were having a difficult day where negative thoughts shook you, but luckily your boyfriend Chris is always there to save you

Warnings: cute, hugs, kisses, negative thoughts, a little angst

Author's notes: This is my work, I do not authorize any plagiarism, copying or “inspiration”. English is not my first language, so I'm sorry if there are any grammatical errors.

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You were sad, so sad, at that moment, your life didn't seem to make sense.

You felt ugly, incapable, inappropriate, God! You were feeling every negative feeling there was, even non-existent ones.

And there weren't enough words that could describe what you were feeling.

You traveled all over the world, collected lyrics, but nothing, nothing could describe this feeling that took over your heart.

And so you asked yourself, how could you talk to someone about this?

Talking to others about your feelings was never really a problem, at least not with your closest friends.

But now? You were a child who was left on a road in the middle of the night.

Lost.

Alone.

In the dark.

At least that's what you thought while cooking dinner at the triplets' house.

You thought that no one could understand what you were feeling, not when you couldn't form words, so why waste other people's time, why be inconvenient by saying that you didn't feel well, when no one could understand you, help you.

When you didn't even understand what you were feeling?

You were so focused on your thoughts that you didn't notice Chris's gaze on you.

Chris knew something was wrong the moment you appeared in the room, your shoulders slumped, your eyes heavy, your smile weak, dejected.

You always had big smiles that brighten any darkness, but now? His smile was wan, a smile that tried to hide his tears.

He didn't know what had happened, if someone hurt you, if they said something that hurt you, if you were in physical pain or not.

But he knew, he was sure, that everything wasn't okay.

Then, he got up from the couch, the place he had been sitting staring at you for the last 10 minutes, and walked towards you.

You were always alert to your surroundings, no matter the situation, you always noticed when something had happened to someone, or when a person approached, so when he approached you, and you didn't notice, as if someone had blindfolded you , he worried.

He was behind you, when he wrapped his arms around you, you were a little startled by the sudden contact, jumping slightly, and looking back.

It was just Chris.

You let out a sigh of relief.

"Don't do that anymore, you scared me" You said softly, when you went back to mixing the food in the pan.

"Everything is fine?" He ignored what you said, needing to know what was happening as quickly as possible.

"Why the question?" You ask back.

You always did this, when you didn't want to answer something, you asked the person a question as an answer.

"You don't look like you're on planet Earth today"

"No? Where do I look like I am? In fact, if I weren't on earth, how would you be hugging me now?"

“No, not like that, you’re here, but at the same time, you’re not here” you raise an eyebrow.

“Your body is here, your mind is not” You go back to mixing dinner, taking a deep breath.

"It's okay, I'm just tired" You weren't lying, you really were tired, but one of the main reasons for those words was because you really wanted to close this subject, you know that tomorrow you would wake up better.

But of course, Chris didn't accept that. He knew there was something more, and he wanted to find out what it was.

He was always like that, he was always there for you, even when you didn't want anyone, you just wanted to be alone.

And that was why you loved him so much.

Because he was your guardian angel, your bulletproof vest when everything got dangerous, he stayed in front of you when you were in the crosshairs.

He was there to heal all your scars.

And you knew he could save you now, when you are in the crosshairs of negativity.

His body leaned over yours a little, taking the spoon out of your hand and throwing it into the sink.

You tried to take the spoon back, making the excuse that the food wasn't ready and you needed to stir it more.

But Chris was watching you, he knew that you had turned off the stove for more than 5 minutes.

He turned his body to face him, and hugged his waist.

"Talk to me, what's going on?" He asked again.

But what he received in response was silence, and his eyes were watery.

"Honey..." He began, a speech already planned in his mind to make you speak, at least the basics, so he would know what happened, but this moving speech was not necessary, because right after he called you, the words ran out of his mouth like a river.

And now, you were a mess.

A beautiful mess in Chris's eyes, even with your tear stained face, messy hair, wrinkled clothes, you looked beautiful.

The gods knew how beautiful you looked.

"I don't know, I woke up like this, I'm just sad, nothing really happened, I just... I feel ugly, inappropriate, annoying, I don't know, I, I don't know, I can't explain it." You tried, you really tried, but you couldn't, gods, you didn't even know who you were at that moment.

You didn't know what were happening.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, pretty girl, it's okay, you don't need to say anything else, I already understand, I got you, I'm here with you." He cupped your face and dried your tears, placing a lingering kiss on your forehead. Trying to calm you down.

Which, even though it took a while, worked.

You let out a shaky breath. And when you look up, back at him, you realize he was thinking of a solution.

"What do you think about us lying down, cuddling on the couch, watching a movie, we don't need to say anything, just cuddle, do you want that?"

You smile lightly and nod, hugging Chris's waist, and hiding your face in his chest.

You stayed like that for a while, when you finally started moving to the couch, you on top of Chris, while you chose a movie.

It had been about 10 minutes into the movie, and you were already feeling better, but there was still something bothering you.

And of course, Chris noticed, so he did what he knew would help, what always helps, he kissed you.

He gently grabbed your chin and kissed your lips, making all that pain you were feeling go away.

Making you feel better than you ever have.

He could do this.

He was your medicine.

You separate, and look at each other, you smile in thanks, and lay your head back on his chest.

For the first time that day, feeling good.

[zoeykallus]

Me again! Here’s one that popped into my head randomly. What if the gender-neutral reader is “hunted” (or playfully tracked) by each BB clone? Like the reader took one of their blasters and is chased to get it back? Oooh and the reader takes Crosshair’s rifle!

Yeah, you, again, know that face by now 😁Hi! Uhm, well, let me give it a try...

TBB x Gender-neutral Reader (Extended) HCs – Lost Something? Part 1 Of 5 Hunter

Warnings: None (So far)

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

It starts with a simple assertion on your part. "I bet I can sneak up on you and steal something you're wearing on your body, like your blaster." Hunter raises his eyebrows. He laughs softly and says with amusement, "I think that's highly unlikely. My perception, as you already know, is much sharper than that of other people. You would never get close enough to me, at least not without me noticing" You smile unperturbed. You watch him, listen to him explain further. "Even if you could manage that, you can't hide from me, I'd be on your heels far too quickly. Stealing from me is much harder than you think" You nod slowly, kiss his cheek gently and say, "Okay, you're probably right. But the thought was interesting" Hunter laughs softly again. "Are you bored?" You grin at him and say, "No, I'm just naturally curious" Hunter kisses the corner of your mouth and strokes your cheek with one finger. "I see. Well, maybe we can discuss some more of your curious thoughts tonight. But now I have to go, I'm sure Echo is already waiting for me" You smile contentedly and say, "I'm looking forward to tonight"

You look after him until he disappears around the next corner to go to the meeting point at the market, where Echo is waiting for him. With a smile, you raise your right hand and look down at its contents. Hunter's blaster is in your hand. "Incredibly sharp senses," you say with a soft laugh.

Hunter walks alongside Echo through the market, looking for the stall of the merchant who sells them certain spare parts under the table, while he tells him about the conversation between you and him. Echo frowns a little, but he listens before saying, "And you told them, of course, that no one can steal anything from you that easily, hmm? Hunter laughs, a beaming smile on his face. He likes talking about you, any thought related to you is usually enjoyable. "Of course. I also told them they should know that" Echo nods slowly, completely calm, a barely noticeable smirk at the corners of his mouth. "Of course," he says, sounding almost subliminally sarcastic. Hunter shrugs and says, "We all know that no one can sneak up on me" "And where's your blaster then, genius? Have you forgotten it?" grumbles Echo, the smirk already a little more visible on his lips. Hunter glances hastily at the holster. Empty. "This can't be real," he says, stunned, almost a little breathless.

When your comm beeps, you know it's Hunter before you even look at the display. "Hi honey," you say sweetly. Hunter sounds dry as he says, "You tricked me" You laugh softly and say, "But that was the point. I proved my theory. I can very definitely steal from you" You feel it coming before it happens, but you don't have time to react. The next moment you're wedged between Hunter and a building wall. "I also said you can't hide from me," Hunter says with a smoky voice and a small smirk. Your heart is pounding in your throat, but not really from fear, it's a certain, energizing excitement. You concede, "Okay, yeah you said that and obviously you're right" Hunter reaches under your jacket, pulls out his blaster and puts it back in its holster. "I'm afraid you can't keep this, I still need it," he says, amused.

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@allsystemsblue

@palliateclaw

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@extrahotpixels

@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

@malicemercy

@bebopsworld

@echos-girlfriend

@cpnt616

@dangraccoon

@jediknightjana

@pb-jellybeans

@antishadow2021

@sleepycreativewriter

@projectdreamwalker

@1vlouds

@clonelovr

[starrylothcat]

If you gave the clones flower, like a bouquet of flowers, what do you think their reactions would be?

You can of course include as few or as many clones as you'd like and any Squad.

💐 💐 💐 For you, Dear!

Omg thank you so much for this ask???

Oh this is fun! I made this into a Clone x Reader HC/Drabble thing and got a bit carried away.

Warnings: None. Mentions of kissing. Established relationship. Reader not described. Didn’t proofread, sorry. 😅

The Bad Batch + Bonus Rex under the cut! Hope you enjoy my ramblings~

💋💐 You Give The Bad Batch (+Rex) Flowers Headcanons/Drabble 💋💐

Hunter

He’s confused at first, wondering why you are holding a handful of flowers out toward him.

You tell him you thought of him when you saw the flowers. They made you happy, so you hoped they’d make him happy, too.

Hunter accepts them, not used to receiving gifts, especially thoughtful ones like this.

He’s so used to giving, leading, bearing responsibility, it catches him off guard how nice it feels to be taken care of in return.

The flowers smell sweet, reminding him of you.

He smiles and cups your chin gently, bringing you in for a passionate kiss, feeling some of his stress melt away.

“Thank you, mesh’la. They are beautiful, just like you. What would I do without you looking out for me?”

He tucks one of the flowers into his hair above his ear, wearing it the rest of the day, his thoughts never straying from you.

Crosshair

You hold a flower out to him, and he just stares at you.

“What are you doing?” He finally speaks.

“I’m giving you a flower.”

Crosshair raises an eyebrow, chews his toothpick, hesitantly taking it from you.

He asks what he’s supposed to do with it.

You roll your eyes and tell him it’s a gift.

“I saw it and thought of you.”

Crosshair doesn’t know how to respond or react at first, being given a kind gift was never something he experienced.

You get slightly annoyed and insecure at his silence, knowing this was a dumb idea in the first place.

You quickly turn from him, mumbling under your breath that it was a stupid thought and that you’ll leave him alone, embarrassment heating your cheeks.

You avoid him all day. Why did you think he’d want a flower of all things?

When you retreat to your bunk that night, a beautifully arranged bouquet of flowers is resting on your pillow with a small note. “Thinking of you, too.”

Wrecker

He is THRILLED when you hand him over a large bouquet of flowers.

Wrecker picks you up and hugs you, almost crushing the bouquet between the two of you.

“All of these are for me?” He suddenly becomes a little sheepish, since he wasn’t expecting such a sweet gesture from you.

“They are bright and wonderful, so I thought of you when I saw them.” You smile as Wrecker’s ears turn red at your admission. He kisses you softly, thanking you for the flowers.

Wrecker places the flowers in the cockpit of The Marauder where everyone can see them, proudly and lovingly exclaiming they were from you when his brothers asked.

He keeps one flower in his utility belt, smiling all day whenever he sees it.

Tech

Tech doesn’t quite understand the gesture at first.

He inspects them, beginning to spout facts about each flower, assuming you were giving them to him for research.

You giggle, telling him they weren’t for research, just as a gift.

“What an interesting sentiment. You went out of your way to choose these just for me? To keep as a gift?” He cocked his head, the gears turning in his head.

“Ah, it’s symbolic of how you feel for me. I understand now. Thank you, my dear.”

Tech kisses you sweetly as you smile, and carefully places the flowers on his workbench to look at while he tinkers.

Tech begins a deep dive into researching flowers, analyzing your favorite colors, scents, and specific flower meanings to reciprocate the gift. He wants to give you the perfect arrangement to symbolize his affection for you in return.

He preserves the flowers you gave him so he can always be reminded of your love.

Echo

You tell Echo to close his eyes, saying you have a surprise for him.

He smiles, giving you a look, but obliges.

“Ok, open them!

He sees you holding out flowers, offering them to him. He smiles softly, his eyes widening in surprise.

“Are these for me?” He asks, gently taking them from your hand, not quite believing he deserves such a delicate and beautiful gift.

Even though you and Echo have been together for awhile, he still harbors insecurities about his body.

“I thought you might like them.” You say. “You’re always doing so much for me, you deserve something nice, too.”

Echo brings you into an embrace, not knowing how he was so lucky to have someone as special as you.

“Thank you, mesh’la. They mean a lot to me, just like you.”

Echo places the flowers in his bunk, gazing at them as you fall asleep curled up next to him.

You saw beauty in him when he didn’t, and the flowers meant more to him than you’ll ever know.

Rex

You’ve noticed Rex was stressed (more than usual) and wanted to get him something nice.

When you hand him the flowers, Rex (internally) panics.

He thinks he missed your anniversary or some other important event. Why else would you be giving him something as nice as flowers?

You can see the panic flash in his eyes, and you immediately tell him the flowers were just for fun. A gift to show him how much you love him, that’s all.

They were blue, matching his 501st colors.

Rex relaxes, now overwhelmed with feeling at the romantic gesture from you.

“You’re always thinking of me, cyare. How can I repay you?”

“I can think of a few ways. How about we start with a kiss?”

Rex smirks as he wraps you in a warm embrace, kissing you tenderly. How did you always know exactly what he needed?

He tucks one of the flowers in his breastplate, wearing your love for all to see.

💐Hehe thanks for reading!💐

Tags: @wanderer-six @the-cantina @pb-jellybeans

Let me know if you want to be tagged in my fics!

[happytroopers]

Pent Up // Tech x Reader

Summary: After an awkward wake up call from a rather... entertaining... dream. You spend a week trying to distract yourself from your traitorous mind. It doesn't take long for Tech to catch on.

TW: wet dream, brief mentions of erotic things, nothing outright just a lot of build up and tension

somewhere between pg13 and R, originally I was gonna write the smut but then it sat in my drafts for two years so congrats you're getting a fade to black

18+ MDNI for sure tho

A hand shook your shoulder, shaking the last sensation of your dream away and forcing you awake with a start. A whine died on your lips as your bleary eyes snapped open to meet the eyes of the object of aforementioned dream. Your already blushed cheeks went even hotter as Tech looked down at you in mild concern and heavy curiousness. He was put together, as always, still in his armor except for his helmet. Laying in your bunk in disheveled pajamas, the contrast wasn’t lost on you. You were acutely away of how warm you were, how much you had been squirming in your sleep, how your thighs were clenching, and extremely aware of the slick warmth dampening your pajama bottoms. 

As your mind reeled from the… riveting dream, it switched gears to run overdrive on how to save yourself the embarrassment of being caught having a wet dream. Caught by the one soldier you were mentally assaulting in your sleep… Under Tech’s curious gaze you wanted to melt- and not in the fun way his gaze usually made you want. How loud were you that you not only alerted the genius, but you drawn him away from his projects- something that usually took an explosion or ship crash to do? 

Of course Tech didn’t look uncomfortable in the least, simply waiting for your answer as he removed his hand from your shoulder so you could scramble up into a sitting position, keeping the blanket firmly around your lower half as you batted sleep mussed hair from your face. The only consolation was that while you and Tech hit the rack, Wrecker and Hunter were supposed to be flying while Crosshair filled out his fair share of his share of field reports. 

Tech gave you a once over as you collected yourself, eyebrows creasing as you tried to get your breathing under control. 

"Are you alright, (y/n)?" He asked slowly, watching you curiously as your knees bowed together under your blanket. If you’re eyes weren’t screwed shut from embarrassment, you would’ve seen his Adam’s apple bob at the sight. You cleared your throat to busy trying not to focus on the way his armor accentuated all of his best features in the dim light of the bunks, hoping your voice would maintain some level of propriety. 

"Y-yeah, yeah, Tech, I’m alright. ‘M Fine." You nodded just a little too quick, voice just a hair from being even, so in an attempt to feel out how much damage you did to your dignity in your sleep, you added in false casual airs, "Why do you ask?"

Tech's eyebrow went from creased to quirked, running a hand over his face, "You were tossing and turning, groaning like you were-" 

You didn’t think you could take him continuing or the thought of him watching you so you went with the first excuse that came to mind, "In pain, like I was in pain." 

Voice rushed, your own eyebrows furrowed at what you were saying. Tech looked confused as well- neither of you knew where this was heading. 

"Pain?" He repeated, voice unbelieving but worried, "Are you…injured? Why didn’t you tell me earlier." 

Well, that lie wouldn’t work either. Besides your inability to control your brain, there was nothing wrong with you. And if you couldn’t come up with something, Tech would insist on checking you over. You couldn’t look him in the eye at the moment much less let him touch you after your dream. Wait, dream! 

"Injured? No, no sir." You cringed, you had never once called Tech ’sir’ since you met him, and judging by his… reaction, now wasn’t the time to start, "I had… a nightmare. Yeah, real bad nightmare. Probably gonna talk to the Civ. Enlistment shrink about it, yep." 

Your nodding didn’t do much to convince the Tech, as he just watched your rambling, with a concerned furrowed brow. Running a hand over your face, flung your blanket off your legs quickly as you swung them over the side of your bunk- the middle one. Just high enough that you had to jump, but low enough someone tall like Tech could still look down at you if you were laying down. Too much laying in the dark room with the man (literally of your dreams) had your thoughts spiraling along with your white hot embarrassment- fight or flight was kicking in and you were choosing flight. 

Pushing off the bunk, your bare feet hit the cold floor but you weren’t prepared for how jelly-like your legs would be. Before you could even hit your knees, Tech caught you against his chest. He was warm, and the hopeless romantic in you didn’t fail to notice how you fit perfectly against him or how easily he held you steady, and his chest was firm. Oh stars, don’t let him feel how hard my nipples are. Tech was leaner than his brothers, but no less stronger than his brothers, something that slipped your mind occasionally- only now, as your palms were splayed over his chest it wasn’t so easy to forget. 

His large hands easily encased both of your arms, images flashed through your mind- but it wasn’t your arms he had been holding in your dreams. Eyes fluttering, you shook your head, backing away from the genius as soon as you were sure you wouldn’t fall over. Tech ignored your stammered apologies though you were sure cheeks were practically glowing in the dim light, "(Y/N), are you sure you’re alright? You feel warm, you might have a fever. I think I should-" 

You were pretty sure if you spent one more moment with his hands on you, you would break every single rule about soldier civilian interrelations in the books so you all but wrenched away from him, earning a confused look as you grabbed the first jacket and pair of pants you could find. 

"No time, I’m perfectly fine- hey that’s almost a rhyme-" You stammered, snatching your shoes, "Look at the time, things to fix, no fever here." 

Tech tried to protest but you were already down the hall before he could even grab a medscanner off his belt.

__

I’ve been on this ship too damn long.

You thought to yourself, splashing water on your face. If the interaction with Tech wasn’t enough to keep you from sleeping again, the lingering feelings and memories from your dream kept your skin tingling and your mind swirling around one resident genius. So you gave up sleep. 

Instead, you decided to work, preferably underneath floor panels where engine parts were thrumming with power - where Tech wouldn’t run into you unless he tried. Bonus points for being far away one of the few places on the ship your dream hadn’t contaminated. 

If he can’t see me, I can’t think about- images of lips trailing across skin, pressing into your thighs, thighs over a lean shoulder. You smacked hands on either side of your cheeks to physically halt that train of thought, What is wrong with me?!

The answer was simple, you were the only woman on a ship of five men, one of which you pretty sure you were in love with, had been on active duty nonstop for weeks and you didn’t even have your own room- no action, no breaks, no privacy. 

You worked for a couple hours straight, too embarrassed show your face again. Until, you finally surfaced top pass through the fresher. Clean face, clean thoughts, right? Growling in frustration, you ran a dry towel over your face before shoving your arms back into your work jacket. 

You were so caught up in your own thoughts, you didn’t even think twice when the fresher door swished open- it was a communal fresher, it wasn’t uncommon for one or more of the Batch to share the space with you at a time. So common in fact, you didn’t even look up from your routine- adjusting your hair, swiping cosmetics on. 

As you peered into the mirror, internally giving yourself a half pep talk, half scolding, the last face that you wanted to see appeared in the reflection behind you.

"Kriff!" You yelped, startled, spinning around so quickly you risked whiplash, instinctively your hands flew to balance yourself against the counter, the cool metal grounding your feverish skin. It was Tech behind you, in his blacks with a towel over his shoulder, watching you in confusion as you met his eyes briefly before your face went scarlet, your eyes dropped- resting anywhere but his. "Tech! Good morning- night… afternoon? No time in space, am I right?" 

The genius’s eye brows crinkled, which you would’ve noticed if you weren’t so busy staring at the floor. Tech took another step forward, bending slightly so he could look at your face and eyes narrowing. He was close enough to touch, the smell of mechanic grease, GAR issue soap, and something so inherently Tech flooded your senses as he asked, "You didn’t get anymore sleep, did you? Are you sure you’re alright, (Y/N)?" 

Another slew of images flashed through your mind, long fingers tilting your chin up, and the last time you were pressed against a counter it wasn’t from this angle, ‘is this alright?’… It was then you realized with his new position, your floor gaze had turned into staring at his abdomen, where his blacks clung to him leaving very little to the imagination. You forced your eyes up to his. 

Between his scent and your own traitorous thoughts, your throat constricted, eyes widening and nostrils flaring slightly, "‘m fine. Gotta go, things need fixing." 

With that, you ducked away from him and quite literally fled the scene for the second time in a matter of hours. Tech watched you go, head tilting to the side. 

"I don’t understand civilians."

—— 

Ridiculous, You thought. I’m an adult, I should be able to control myself. 

The bolt you were tightening popped out of the panel it was supposed to be holding together. 

“Dank Farrik!" You growled, snatching it back and attempting to shove it into place. The first time it skewed to far to the left, and next swaying to the right, and the third it was too far up. Irritated, in rapid succession, you slammed the bolt into the metal over and over- despite it never going into the hole.

 A certain part of your dream popped into your mind.

Don’t think about slamming- or holes. You quickly corrected yourself, but didn’t stop your incessant sla- jamming. 

"I thought being a trained engineer meant knowing how to do something a bit more… technical than that." A drawling voice appeared over your shoulder, the bolt getting plucked out of your fingers and plugged into the ho- opening on the first try. 

"Crosshair." You breathed in recognition, irritation still lacing your tone as you looked over your shoulder. The stir in your stomach thinking it might be Tech fading away into not quite relief, but something less… stirring. The marksman was leaning against the wall you were working on, it wasn’t surprising he sought you out. Aside from Tech, you were close with Crosshair- an odd friendship that no one really understood. "I thought you were next on nav rotation.” 

“Tech came to the cockpit with a pretty interesting concerns. He switched shifts with me, said he had too much to think about to sleep. So, he’s up top with Hunter." The marksmen shrugged, critical eyes giving you a once over as you blushed- a more and more common occurrence. 

"Yeah, we all have bad dreams sometimes." You huffed, a low blow, but if anyone could take a mean comment it was Crosshair. The nightmares were kind of a sensitive spot for most clones, but was there anyone on this ship that hadn’t already heard of your sleep... issues?

You assumed that once he got his odd version of teasing in, he would move along but Crosshair didn’t go any further than the nearest crate so he could sit down and pop a tooth pick in his mouth. You allowed him two minutes of staring before snipping, "Is there something you needed?” 

"Not me. Tech wanted you to help him with something about reverse thrust-“ 

"I’m busy." You clipped quickly cutting off Crosshair’s words, wrenching the bolt so quickly that the metal scraped. Your fingers were shaking as you tucked hair behind your ears, clearing your throat, you elaborated, "Tech can handle them himself, he’s, ah, perfectly adept. I’m incredibly busy here.” 

Crosshair lifted a single brow, looking at the squeaky cupboard panel you were working on. Clearly a bottom of the list kind of task, "You are acting weird. He might be oblivious, but he always notices you.” 

"I am not acting weird." You snapped but your voice had a quirk to it, what did Crosshair mean by that? You filed that away for later, "Unless you have something to put on my to do list, I’m busy because I’m fine, Cross.” 

"Riiiiight, completely normal, I’ll let him know.” 

You watched him go before looking at your rather shoddy wrench-bolt job. Sighing, you set to work undoing the crooked bolt, Maybe I am a little pent up.

__

So started a week of awkwardness between you and Clone Force 99’s resident genius. And it wasn’t long before the rest of the batch began to catch on. Not that you were exactly subtle about it. 

Any time Tech entered a room, your eyes would go wide and a flush would creep up your neck. If you were speaking to someone else, the moment you saw him you would start stuttering or just stop all together. Sometimes it was fluttery nervousness, and other times you just got distracted by his presence. But always, unless actively in a firefight, it would only take about five minutes before you’d shake your head and escape the room like a gundark out of hell. 

Bright side, you spent so much time avoiding Tech you had made it to the bottom of your prioritized to-do list for the first time since joining Clone Force 99. Down sides, it was getting harder to avoid him, and as mentioned earlier, the others were starting to notice- plus, even if you to do list was getting slim, all the work was shoddy at best. When you weren’t actively avoiding him, all you could do was stare at Tech like a lovesick (re: hormonal) schoolgirl.

Crosshair had caught you staring at Tech on multiple occasions, typically flicking his toothpick at you to get you to stop. He would roll his eyes but at least he was quiet about it. He’d just tease you whenever he caught you alone, constantly reminding you of your embarrassment. If you weren’t so preoccupied with Tech, you’d be glad- his teasing his own way of accepting you into the group. But you were preoccupied, so usually, you’d huff dramatically throwing (and missing) the toothpick back in his direction. 

There was the incident where Hunter himself had to order you to go with Tech on a mission, something that had never been an issue before as you usually preferred working with the genius. Subsequently, you were so high-strung that you put your complete focus on rewiring a door panel. So much focus, in fact, that Tech himself had to pull you out of the way of a super battle droid’s fire. He had pushed you against a wall and completely covered you with his body while Crosshair took care of the battle droid. Had it not been for the smoking blaster shot in the wall where you had previously been working, you would have melted when Tech so tenderly asked if you were alright. Like a helpless damsel, all you could do was stare up into the goggles of his helmet for a moment before nodding demurely. Then, so frustrated with yourself you had to walk away from the genius before you could give Hunter a reason to transfer you. 

Tech, himself, had decided you were obviously upset about something and spent more time than usual trying to get you alone. He’d sit down across from you while you ate, which resulted in an awkward silence and you abandoning your barely touched food. Find you while you brushed your teeth- it had been embarrassing when you accidentally choked yourself with the toothbrush because you’d been too busy ogling him in his blacks. And if you hadn’t been so focussed on saving yourself from any additional embarrassment, you would have noticed the worried expression start to slip into a more hurt category whenever you’d literally run away from him with a lame, short excuse. 

Then there was the time when Wrecker had been speaking to you, explaining how his helmet’s comms unit was shorting out after a hit in battle. You were supposed to be listening to him, figuring out from his description of the sound what the issue was and how to fix it. But over his shoulder, your eyes had landed on Tech and your breath had hitched in your throat as you watched him unfasten his armor. Like a teenager watching a strip tease, you shifted your weight from foot to foot, "Are you even listening to me?" 

Wrecker’s booming voice sounded more distant that it should considering you were fiddling with his helmet, but it alerted Tech who looked up from his chest piece. His eyes immediately found yours, and you looked away quickly. After promising Wrecker you’d look into it, you took the helmet before escaping down to the cargo hold, thankful Tech didn’t follow you this time.

 You might actually have too request a transfer at this rate. 

It was Hunter that confronted you about it. He’d noticed your distraction, your anxious demeanor, the decline in your quality of work, and that’s just the things he noticed outright. He saved some of your pride by not mentioning everything he could smell or hear. Instead taking the role of scolding boss. A role he played expertly, judging by the exceedingly dissapointed way he said your name before pressing further. 

"You’re better than this. What’s up with you?" He had asked, having followed you after you slipped away from Tech yet again. He had found you cleaning the brand-new air filters in the cargo hold. 

"Nothing’s up with me, Hunter." You shrugged, hoping he would drop it. He didn’t. 

"Really? ‘Cause you’ve been making rookie mistakes. You were assigned to us because you don’t do that." The sergeant reminded you, crossing his arms over his chest. You were offended to say he had a point. 

"Just going a little stir crazy, Sarge." You sighed. Hunter shook his head, clapping a hand onto your shoulder. 

"Do us all a favor and just tell him." He requested, shaking his head as he turned to leave, "It’s a small ship to be stir crazy on, and neither of you are subtle." 

You watched him go, first embarrassed at being caught- knowing what Hunter could hear, smell, and infer, that he chose not to complain about- but then your mind fixated on something else. 

"Hunter. What do you mean by ‘neither’?"

___

You were grateful for the planet’s scorching sun, some unnamed backwater (despite the lack thereof) planet that simply had been the nearest Republic friendly refuel/ maintenance station after you deduced the Havoc Marauder wouldn’t make it back to Kamino with the navigation calibration malfunctioning like they were, lest you hyper speed into a black hole. After you’d made your deduction, you had almost combusted when Tech had leaned over your shoulder, breath grazing your ear as he checked over your work at Hunter’s request. You would’ve been offended if you weren’t so busy gaping like a schoolgirl at Tech’s side profile so close to your face. 

’Neither of you are subtle.’ The sergeant’s words played through your mind for the hundredth tune. 

Like, for instance, as you sat in the cockpit, you were supposed to be running diagnostics on the rather shifty new calibrator and modifier Hunter had procured from the maintenance station’s ‘buy, sell, trade’ front room. It didn’t have to be perfect, it just had to get you from dust ball point A to rainy, Kaminoan point B. 

But instead, you were distracted. Which should really be the summary of the past week of your life. Specifically, you were distracted by Tech’s legs. Long, armor clad, muscled, his leather side holsters clinging to the white composite as they splayed out from under the Marauder’s dash. 

You never exactly forgot how tall Tech was, he towered over you even with his usually hunched posture. But, with his top half hidden underneath the console it was a reminder at just how long his legs were. Your breath caught in your throat as his hips lifted, legs tensing as metal groaned. Something snapped before Tech tossed a rusted piece of metal away from himself. The way his thighs clenched and unclenched with the effort made your entire body tense as well, you hadn’t noticed your straying focus until the electroprod zapped your hand. Fortunately, Tech’s voice drowned out your quiet yelp.

"I have found our problem." He announced, grabbing a tool off of his belt. So preoccupied with his long legs, you blinked slowly at his long fingers as they traced up his thigh to find the right tool. 

"Oh? have you?" You breathed, after realizing you hadn’t answered. You shook your head, forcing yourself back to your task. You corrected your own work, the small electro prod in your hand zapped at the calibrator, mostly to see if it could handle any sort energy current. Tech had started rambling about some Acid spitting bugs the ship had picked up on Ethesda IV, apparently the coating on the calibrator was similar to their main food source. Acid spitting bugs should’ve been a turn off, but how his voice stopped and started and strained and grunted as he periodically tore out rusted pieces outweighed the bugs.  

“And the calibrator? Is it satisfactory?” He asked, hips twisting as he continued working under the dash. Satisfactory? Nothing about the past weeks had been satisfactory but that wasn’t what he asked. He emerged just enough to hold his hand out. 

“It’ll do.” You hummed as the diagnostic ran somewhere between yellow and green. You stood, keeping a respectable distance between you as you handed him the small piece of equipment, “I could use an extra set of hands down here, would you?” 

You were digging through your mind for another lame excuse until you saw Hunter peek around the door frame of the cockpit, a look someplace between warning and scolding crossing the sergeant’s face. So, you sighed. 

“Of course, where do you need m-e?” You nodded, noticing your words as they caught in your throat. You cleared it and crouched down beside the soldier. He paused for a moment, even his feet halted their slight movement until he cleared his throat as well. 

“Beside me, I need you to hold the calibrator in place as I wired it in.” Tech answered you, staying half obscured but twisting his body so his hips stayed flat but he was laying on his ribs. You swallowed around nothing, sighing flatly as you wiggled under the dashboard beside him, “A bit closer, so I can reach around you.”

Stiff and rigid, you slowly inched closer to him until you were close enough for one of his arms to snake under your waist and pull you all the way to him. You choked out a yelp. Just as easily as he’d pulled you to him, he propped you just enough so his shoulder and chest could slot underneath your back. 

Under the dash there was barely enough room for this position, so it wasn’t possible to keep yourself propped up unless you wanted your nose pressed to the exposed wiring he was working on. So, you had no choice but to forced yourself to at least half relax against him. Your back to his chest, his face right next to yours so the light on his goggles could illuminate the slot where the calibrator belonged, one of his knees twisted under yours leaving you caged between the legs you’d been staring at for so long. His even breaths were fanning over your cheek, the two of you practically puzzle pieced together. He retracted the arm from underneath your waist and moved himself accordingly so that arm instead went under your neck, further trapping you against him.

“Apologies, though I trust I don’t need to explain to you what happens if this comes loose during light speed travel.” He explained, though you couldn’t see how his analytical eyes watched you carefully as he pressed the calibrator back into your hands and guided them to the correct spot, “Perfect, just there.” 

His fingers left your wrist and began the process of wiring the calibrator into place. You were grateful for his armor, even if your couldn’t ignore his scent and warmth all around you, you were positive if you could feel his muscles moving underneath you you’d have to stick your hand in the power source to keep from committing a serious breech of civilian-solider contact etiquette. Just a snap of his hips… placed just under the round of your ass… 

“You’re shaking, is everything alright?” Tech’s voice shocked you out of your thoughts. You flinched, almost jerking the half connected calibrator right back out of the dash. You tried thinking of a reason, but your voice seemed caught somewhere between your heart and throat. So you settled for a vague hum.

“Mhm.” 

“Would you hand me the microwelder? It’s on the right side of my belt.” 

Even your breaths were shaking as you used one hand to keep the calibrator in place, and used the other the blindly reach down between the two of you. Your fingers grazed against the composite of the armor on his thigh, overshooting your aim for his belt. For the first time, he tensed as well. Using nothing but touch, you worked your way up, trying to keep your touch as light as possible as it worked over his holsters and to the tools hanging from his belt. You put all your focus on your mechanical knowledge, deducing the tools by shape- data scomp, electoprod, multitool, electrical tape… microwelder.  You almost cried in relief, jerking your hand away as soon as you’d unclipped it. The slight graze of your finger tips against his glove palms felt the same as sticking your fingers in the power source.  Tech’s shoulders adjusted, jostling the both of you. Though he didn’t struggle to move you at all, his voice sounded ever so slightly strained as he used the microwelder to hold the wires in place, “Almost there, keep doing what your doing.” 

Kriff, what the hell was wrong with this man?

“There. That should do it.” 

You wiggled out from the dash so fast that you almost didn’t register his hands on your waist assisting you. Almost. Tech watched after you, the curiosity in his eyes turning into something more akin to understanding as you slipped into the fresher. 

— 

You had never been so grateful to touchdown on Kamino. After the longest week of your life on probably the smallest ship you could’ve been assigned to, you were ready for some much needed space. And the privacy of the usually empty civilian barracks sounded like the perfect retreat. Kamino was the one republic stronghold that didn’t have a shortage of workers, they didn’t need a civilian enlistments to lighten the load when they could hand the tasks off to Cadet’s and call it a learning experience. Usually you found Kamino to be lonely, only seeing the boys at meal times, but this time you were chomping at the bit, praying to the Force or whatever other entity out there that the bunks would be empty as usual. 

As soon as the Marauder touched down in the hangar, you were down the loading steps before it even finishing descending. You finished your debriefs in record time and skipped dinner in favor of returning to the Havoc Marauder to start fixing some of your shoddier than usual workmanship in addition to typical post-mission ship maintenance since your bunk would be the first place Tech might look for you. 

"I thought I would find you here.” 

You physically jumped when Tech’s calm voice called out from the ship’s entrance, hitting your head on the cockpit’s console you were working under. Cursing under your breath, you scuttled out from under the console. Tech was leaning against the entrance to the cockpit, watching you like a wild animal who might spook. You guessed that wasn’t too far off from the truth judging by the already rising heat to your face and the way your eyes danced around to anywhere but his face. 

"You missed dinner." He informed you when you didn’t respond, rubbing your head as you closed the panel you had been working on and pulled yourself up to your knees. 

"Oh, did I?" You asked in faux concern as if you hadn’t purposely skipped communal dinner. Suddenly, you realized you were looking up to him from your knees and your nearly choked on the recycled air your were breathing. You scrambled up to your feet, nervously smoothing out your clothes as you momentarily met Tech’s eyes before purposely pointing your own gaze else where- the blinking lights around the cockpit very interesting. In your peripheral, you saw his eyebrows furrow, face hardening as you leaned back against the console. 

"Have I done something to bother you?" He asked, suddenly. Moving a bit closer to you, he froze when you leaned even further away. 

"Not a thing, Tech. Why do you ask?” 

One of his eyebrow quirked behind his goggles, telling you he didn’t believe you for a moment. Tech might be oblivious about somethings, but he always knew when you were lying to him, "You have not looked me in the eye, much less spoken to me since…” 

He trailed off, looking to you to finish his thought. Your rose tint flashed ruby, redder than the shield button blinking on the console behind you. Yep, time to escape. 

"Listen, Tech, I really don’t-" You chuckled dryly, moving to squeeze past him. 

"Have time for this? I think you do." Tech shook his head, sidestepping so his larger frame immediately cut off your exit. Bumping into the composite chest piece of his armor, you stammered something akin to an excuse as you tried to squeeze past you again. The genius repeated his action, this time catching you by bracing his hands on either of your arms and holding them gently to your side to keep you in place. 

Now, you were forced to look up at him, trying to ignore how much skin his longs fingers managed to cover. You wondered if he could feel your erratic pulse under your skin. He observed your face for a moment, from the tint in your cheeks, the quickness of your breath, to part of your lips. He muttered mostly to himself but you caught it, "Dramatic dilation of the eyes, heightened pulse, shallow breathing, erratic behavior.” 

Once he finished his list- or maybe stopped listing aloud for your pride’s sake- he cleared his throat, releasing his grip one your arms so you could take a hesitant step back. Your mind was screaming at you to create some distance, but your thudding heart made it hard to force yourself to move. Tech wasn’t finished with you yet though, his chocolate yes narrowed on you before softening as he continued, "Hunter informed me that you didn’t have a ’nightmare’, as you said.” 

Yep, you were going to spontaneously combust if the ground didn’t open up and swallow you first- either option was preferable to the turn in conversation. Hell, spontaneous separatist invasion would be less painful. 

"Listen, Tech, I really-" You started, but silenced yourself when you saw the way he adjusted his stance. Shoulders broader, chin dipping lower, one leg moving forward…. if you were any closer it would be between your legs. 

"He also had a few theories about the content of said dream, one in particular that interested me." He continued, voice dipping as he continued to stalk towards you until the back of your thighs hit the control deck, forcing you to half lean half sit on the panel. Your backside pressed a couple buttons, managing to conveniently kill the overhead lights and close the door to the bridge in one fell swoop. Whoever was in charge of the force, you wanted to have a firm talking to because you’re heart couldn’t take much more of this. "You’re in your prime, in multiple adrenaline and endorphin inducing situations, surrounded by 4 men… a healthy drive is nothing to be so embarrassed of.”

Your own voice wasn’t quite a sure, almost choked as you nodded, "Gl-glad we covered that, Tech.” 

"I also know, from my research, that the easiest way to resolve this is to act on it.”

Your mind actually went blank the moment the word sunk in. You weren’t sure, but there was a large likelihood you just stood there and gaped at Tech like a fish. He waited, eyes analyzing you from behind the goggles. One moment passed, and then two before you spoke. 

"Act on it…" You repeated slowly, butterflies melting from your stomach, pooling elsewhere, "Like.. you want to act on it with me?” 

Tech closed the distance, his hands on you again. One at your hip and one gracing your hair,  "We really were as oblivious as Hunter said.” 

The armor on his hips pressed into your soft flesh, his long diligent fingers trailing down your arm, "You can tell me to stop.” 

Your eyes had be following his fingers down, your own twitched and laced into the leather straps that held his holsters to his thighs as if that would tether him to you, "Please don’t.”

A ghost of a smile went across his face before he startled you, picking you up swiftly and depositing you in the pilots seat. You weren’t quite sure of the logistics of this decision until he knelt down in front of you, kissing your lips first and yet not long enough for your liking. You chased his mouth with yours, but he pulled back, focussing down to your belt.

“Now, tell him. How did these dreams of yours go?” 

---

as usual half edited so excuse the typos

[dickarchivist]

Slip of the Tongue

Sergeant Hunter x fem!Reader (pabu native, fishing woman)

Word Count: 2621

Prompt: I had a very funny dream. You're welcome.

AU Fix-It: Everyone is happy on Pabu

Rating: PG for language, but as always Minors DNI 🔞

Contents and Warnings: second hand embarrassment, confessions of feelings (accidental), side wagers, boys bein boys (affectionate and not evil), broken wrist mention but nothing graphic, light swearing and Crosshair saying "sex" at one point.

Summary: Hunter and Reader dance around their feelings because they're just not sure if the other is receptive or not. This spurs a bet between the members of The Bad Batch, will they confess on purpose? Or will it be an accident?

Author's Notes: I woke up from a dream about this laughing so damn hard. Shout out to Clone Force 69 for laughing with me about this silly dream.

Because this fic bounces around a bit, Reader is referred to as "Rea" instead of "you", but the MC is still left ambiguous/fem without description so anyone can place themselves there.

"Rea, careful." Hunter grabs her waist and pulls her away from the edge of the narrow steps along one of the outer walls of Pabu. Instinctively, Rea's arms go around him, but she laughs, a soft blush on her face, "You know I was born here, right?"

"And I was born on Kamino, doesn't make those waters any safer for me. Doesn't make the cliffs safer for you." Rea's heart speeds up when his thumb rubs her hip, but Hunter gently pulls away after she's steaded.

She wanted to kiss him. He thought she wanted to get away. Neither got what they wanted.

××××××

"Hunter, I um... I made some extra pasta last night, little too much actually, do you want to have lunch with me?" Rea's heart is pounding again, and Hunter can smell anxiety on her.

He's hungry, for more than just pasta, but Rea's anxiety makes him second guess. Before he can turn her down, she blurts, "Omega can join us! I-ive definitely got enough for her too, um--"

"Oh! Yes then, alright," his nod is too fast, her anxiety melding with sorrow now. He kicks himself for it later. Why wasn't he any good at this? He reads her emotions, knows what they mean, but somehow whatever he does he's wrong.

Omega isn't too upset about it, she loves to eat, and she loves spending time with Rea. Almost as much as Hunter does, and she picks up on that fairly easily. You'd have to be a brick wall, not to see it. "Thanks for lunch, Rea, I'm gonna see if Echo's called yet. He promised he'd check in today!"

When Omega scurries off, Hunter shifts a bit, more relaxed yet somehow his heart is still pounding, "You uh... you're a good cook."

Rea blushes, careful not to let the compliment go straight to her head, "Truthfully, not a very good cook. I started to learn how after you showed up, wanted to... wanted to um..."

"Rea? Do I make you uncomfortable?"

"No!" Her eyes go wide, hands darting for his on impulse, "No never! What makes you say that? Did I do something wrong?"

"No! No just- you're an asset," Hunter wants to slam his head into the table. Asset? Really? Idiot. He doesn't slam his head down, but he does scowl, angry with himself, looking down at their hands together.

His heart sinks further when Rea pulls her hands away. She thinks she's over stepped, folding them neatly in her lap, trying hard not to fidget, "well... I'm glad I'm useful for you, at least. I-I mean that! It's not a dig! I'm--" she sighs, looking at him under her lashes, "I'm happy I can do something for you, Hunter... and the others! Them too!"

Over by the Marauder, Wrecker smirks, crossing his arms over his chest as he jabs a thumb toward the impromptu picnic, "Accident."

Tech, shakes his head, a knowing nod toward the two helplessly flirting yet somehow never being upfront, "Incorrect. Given Hunter's senses, he knows that she is receptive to his feelings, and returns them in kind. They will confess on purpose."

"Bet on it?" Wrecker leans over, quirking an eyebrow.

"Wrecker, you are aware that you've lost the last dozen wagers we've had. Statistically, the odds do not favor you." Tech adjusts his goggles, now busying himself with one of his sensors, "Do you even have credits to wager?"

"All my snack funds. If it's an accident, you owe me what I lost the last five bets. If they do it on purpose, you get everything I have." Wrecker looks absolutely sure of himself, shoulders back, grin wide.

Tech would be lying if he said the offer didn't tempt him. All the money he earned from his and Wrecker's bets did go into their mouths anyway. The opportunity to have full control of Wrecker's diet and get him off those wretched fuel station snack foods was just too good to pass up. Because, statistically, this was an incredibly safe bet.

"Alright Wrecker, you're on."

×××××××××××××

"Do you want us to bring anything? Wrecker eats a lot, and with Crosshair and Echo home, it's gonna be eight of us counting Wrecker's appetite." Hunter rubs the back of his neck, looking over at his group of siblings, "Are you sure you even want us over?"

Rea sighs, her shoulders slumping a little as a small smile turns on her lips, "Hunter..." He'd misunderstood her invitation to come to dinner. She'd wanted just him, a chance to finally tell him how she felt, but any opportunity to be with him, she would take it, "Bring a few drinks? Maybe a few ingredients if you and the others want something in particular. I'll see if my uncle will let me borrow his table."

"You're sure this is okay? You said your place was small, we aren't exactly small ourselves." His eyes widen just a touch when she holds his hand in hers. He relaxes a bit, smiles just enough for her heart to race, "Alright, we'll be by this evening."

×××××××××

"She's gonna find someone who's actually upfront with his feelings if Hunter isn't quick enough," Echo chuckles, watching them interact.

"Care to join our friendly wager, Echo?" Tech looks up momentarily from his soldering panel to gauge Echo's interest, then proceeds with his explanation and his panel work, "Wrecker believes they will confess on accident, whereas the smart credits are that it will be on purpose."

"Oh yeah? Who's betting on the smart credits?" The edge of Echo's smile tilts up, smirking because he already knows the answer. Omega has regaled him on their last phone call.

"Right now the pool has a 1 to 3 split with four participants. You would make five."

Echo flinches just a second before the humor returns to him, "Tech, who's betting on their confession being on purpose?" He laughs a bit louder as Tech frowns, "Just you then huh?"

"It's logical! Hunter and Rea share similar feelings, he can sense her willingness and receptivity, there is nothing that says otherwise. When they confess, it will be purposeful."

Echo rolls his eyes affectionately, "Alright, I'll join the bet."

"Excellent, you understand the logi-"

"This has accident written all over it, Tech, I'm going with the smart credits, betting against you."

"Traitor." As Tech huffs, Echo busts laughing, and throws his credits into the mix with Crosshair, Wrecker, and Omega's.

××××××××××××

To say the little home was crowded would be an understatement. Wrecker was very quickly banished from the kitchen, his tall and broad frame took up far too much room for anyone be productive while he was there. "Awww that's no fair, I'm the best cook!"

"Debatable," Crosshair ticks, pushing Wrecker into the backyard area, "Let's go big guy. I'm sure there's something out here we can do."

Omega grins brightly, her bow coming off her back quick, "Rea has clay disks! We could shoot!"

"Now hang on, that's-" but Rea cuts Hunter off quick with the squeeze of his hand, "Rea?"

Rea smiles at Omega, then look up to Hunter, "I asked her what could be fun for everyone to do, and I... well, my brother and I used to shoot clay disks when we were kids. Since Crosshair and Omega are both sharp shooters, I thought it would be nice, so I bought a few cases. Wrecker can throw them, those two can shoot, Tech can do calculations, Echo gets to relax for a second, and-- I um... I'd like your help in the kitchen, if that'd be alright?"

His eyes are soft on Rea... of course. Of course she'd thought of them. She was always thinking about them, bringing med kits, real food, taking them exploring on Pabu, making sure they felt at home. That he felt at home. Hunter finally manages a smile at her, soft and light, "I'd be happy to help."

×××××××××××

Tech nudges Wrecker as the big man opens up the crate of clay disks, "There, see? A confession. I told you it would be on purpose."

Omega giggles at that, "Uh, Tech, that wasn't really a confession. They make eyes at each other like that all the time."

"She asked his help, specifically to help in the kitchen, which she had just informed us no one else should be there but her. It was a confession, she wants him by her side." Tech crosses his arms, and Omega mirrors him, making their brothers chuckle.

"Not a confession." Wrecker tosses one of the disks, cheering as it explodes thanks to a quick shot from Omega.

"Think about it, Tech," Crosshair takes a turn with Omega's bow, nodding at Wrecker to throw several disks at once, "You're a man of facts. Does "happy to help" sound anything like "I love you"," he pulls the bowstring and lets loose three bolts in rapid succession, making Omega and Wrecker both whoop as the disks burst, "Sounds a lot like "I'm doing you a favor" to me."

As the others murmer in agreement, Tech huffs, then flicks up his data pad, "Crosshair has six disks, to Omega's two."

"Damn straight."

"Ah just wait Crosshair, I'll beat you this time!"

Omega didn't beat Crosshair, but they did have fun, and that was win in itself.

××××××××××××

"Hunter, I'm fine, I can walk." Rea flinches as she's lifted from the dock. She cradles her wrist, careful not to put more pressure on it as tears spill down her cheeks.

"No you're not," Hunter's voice is hard, not cruel, but protective, "I heard your bones, that's not a twist, it's broken, now quit squirming."

Crosshair rolls his eyes, watching Hunter carry Rea away from the docks and back to the town, "If I didn't know any better I'd say they were married, the way he overreacted at that fall."

"Jealous you don't have someone to carry you, Cross?" Echo ribs him, pushing his shoulder playfully, "I think Wrecker would if you asked nice."

"And die of the stench? I'd rather walk," a smirk hits the corner of Crosshair's lips, and he pushes Echo back, "Just think it's ridiculous, that's all. It was her wrist, not her ankle. He didn't have to carry her."

×××××××××××××××

"Hey Echo? You got a sec?" Hunter rubs the back of his neck, looking sidelong at Rea as she shows Omega a few new fishing techniques popular to the peaceful island, "It's about Rea..."

"She okay? Wrist better?" Echo leans back to glance around Hunter, then looks back at Hunter when he notices nothing out of the ordinary, "What, she got a boyfriend?"

"Does she?" Hunter looks embarrassed near immediately, smacking the butt of his fist into his forehead as Echo laughs, "Kriff, shut it!"

"Okay, alright, what's your question?" He tries to keep the laugher down, mostly for the sake of the bet.

Hunter scuffs his boots on the dock, one hand on his hip as the other continues to rub his neck. Echo's patient with him, knowing he's not the best with words, but Hunter catches him off guard, "D'you think she likes me?"

Echo takes a very deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose, then lets it out slow. "Hunter, I'm gonna ask you a few questions."

"Alright," the Sergeant crosses his arms with a nod, "Let's hear em."

"Has Rea ever greeted one of us, not counting Omega, before you?"

"No."

"Has she ever brought anyone else caf in the mornings?"

"Crosshair, once."

"But what is actually for him, or did he just steal it from you because you weren't there to collect it? I'll tell you the answer: Crosshair's a thief."

Hunter scowls at Crosshair further off on a fishing boat, then looks back at Echo to keep going. Echo chuckles, shakes his head, and leans forward with his elbows on his knees, "Kriff, Hunter, really? Fine. Does she ever actually invite the squad to meals, or do you just assume so because she said "you"?"

It takes a moment for Hunter to answer that one, and he's embarrassed about the conclusion, "I've been inviting you lot, haven't I?"

"Even Tech would've recognized that as her asking you out. Hunter, she likes you."

There's a pause, Hunter's eyes searching the ground as he thinks. Arms crossed, a slight scowl, "You sure?"

Echo just sighs, pats Hunter's back, and starts walking back toward town, "Good luck Sergeant."

"Echo! Are you sure!?"

×××××××××××××××

There's a bit of apprehension as Rea opens up the boat engine, "What the kriff did you guys do to my ship!? Race her!?" When no one meets her eyes, Rea huffs and seats herself near the engine, "Hunter, get my toolbox."

"I will assist with repairs, perhaps even streamline the fuel systems and-" one sharp look from Rea has Tech silenced, "Right. I will be over there with the others."

"Got your kit, need any help?" With Hunter, Rea's glare softens almost instantly, and when she nods, he sits himself down beside her to help, "what do you need?"

"Spanner wrench first," she near drops it when their fingers touch, but recovers quick enough to catch it before him, "Thanks Hunter."

About an hour of repairs passes, Rea giving and taking tools from Hunter, who's been doing his own smaller repairs on the control panel. Fixing sticky switches, making sure the wires aren't fried, nothing Rea would bite his head off for. She's particular about fishing boat, they know that much. Lucky she lets them on at all.

"Hey Hun, pass me my driver?"

"Sure darling, here."

Rea sits up fast, her eyes wide, face a mix of shock, blush, and engine smudges, "What."

Hunter had frozen as well, trying to think of anything that could have been misheard as darling in the context. The longer they stand there in eye locked silence, the redder their faces become... until they hear the clinking of credits.

"How does that constitute a confession?" Tech mutters as he pays out to Wrecker, Echo, Crosshair, and Omega, "He called her darling, how is that a confession but nothing else has been? Further, how are we so sure this wasn't on purpose?"

Wrecker chuckles, slaps Tech on the back, and calls over, "HEY HUNTA! DID YOU MEAN TO CALL HER THAT!?" The look on Hunter's face only serves to make Wrecker laugh harder, "Told ya! They had accident written all over em!"

"Hang on were you betting on us!?" Hunter takes one step off the ship, his face in a snarl, "Explain, now!"

Omega steps forward, her eyes apologetic, her smile, anything but, "It wasn't to be mean! Promise! You and Rea just... I mean, come on, Hunter! We've been here for months, and you didn't tell her you love her until now?! How could we not bet! Even Echo's playing, and he wasn't here most of it!"

Echo shrugs, a very satisfied smile on his face, "I told you she likes you."

"Hunter..." in his sudden burst of anger, he'd forgotten for a moment that Rea was standing right behind him.

As he turns around, he tunes into her again. Slightly elevated body temperature, quickened heart beat, her scent anxiety forward. "Rea... look, I know this makes things... different, but-"

Two quick steps was all it took to close the gap between them. Rea takes Hunter's jaw in her hands and stands up tall on her tip toes. She pulls them together and presses her lips to Hunter's. His hands go to her waist, holding her close as he returns the needy kiss.

"Kriff, just have sex already." Crosshair snipes with a chuckle, making Hunter and Rea snap back to reality.

"Crosshair!!" Their outburst only serves to make the others laugh.

×××××××××××××

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[nibeul]

[id: it's two photos of a wip. The first is of Crosshair, who is depicted as albino with short cropped hair and dark freckles. His head is turned to a side profile and he's looking down. The second is of Omega, who is depicted with piebaldism that resulted in a strip of skin down her face lacking pigment. She is looking straight forward with her eyebrows furrowed. /end id]