#reader & tbb | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jetii · 2 months

Text

Awkward

Pairing: Hunter x fem!Reader

Words: 9,063

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! fluff, squadmates to lovers, some general miscommunication awkwardness, mutual pining, inexperienced!Hunter, first time, smut, nipple play, oral (f and m receiving), face fucking, fingering, so much kissing

Summary: You messed up. After months of hiding your feelings for Hunter, you kiss him to avoid a bad situation, but he doesn't react the way you expect. And he doesn't seem interested in talking about it.

A/N: Thank you @wiltedwillowsvioletsky for the prompt! I can't lie this is one of my favorite tropes. I have another Hunter fic that I'll be posting in a couple weeks, and it's much more serious/angsty so I wanted to make this one fun.

“Physical displays of affection make people uncomfortable,” you say in a rush as if it's a single word, before you lose your nerve.

Hunter stops moving. He’s not even breathing, as far as you can tell. You feel your heart in your throat.

He looks at you, head slightly tilted to the side, like he does when he hears something strange. His eyes search yours for a long moment, his brow furrowed.

You have no idea what he's thinking, but you plow ahead anyway. There’s no time for anything else. The guards will be on you soon.

You reach out, grab his shoulders and step closer to him. Your body presses against his chest, and his arms come up automatically to encircle your waist. You wrap your arms around his neck.

You close your eyes and lean in, until your lips are almost touching his ear. You whisper, in a tone you hope he recognizes as the warning it is, “Just act natural.”

And then you press your mouth to his.

It’s awkward.

Painfully, agonizingly awkward.

Your noses are squished together, and he doesn't react. Doesn't even breathe, so far as you can tell. Your heart is in your throat, and you’re trying desperately not to think about what you're doing.

You’re aware that Hunter is warm and firm under your hands. His fingers twitch at your waist and the back of your neck tingles. He’s not moving. He’s not responding. You feel the familiar sensation of dread building in your stomach.

You know better than this.

You are such an idiot.

Finally, you start to pull away, heart in your throat. Maybe this wasn't the best idea. Maybe you should just let the guards shoot you and save you from the humiliation.

As you begin to move, you feel Hunter take a breath. He surges forward and kisses you again, pulling you closer to him. His hands are gripping you firmly, one sliding up to tangle in your hair, the other dropping lower, almost to your ass.

He tilts his head and deepens the kiss.

He still doesn't seem to be breathing, and the kiss is more a series of short, desperate presses of lips and tongue, but it's good. It's great, actually. You’re suddenly very aware of the fact that Hunter has never kissed anyone before, but you’re too dazed by his enthusiasm to care.

His mouth is warm and insistent against yours, and he tastes like the caf you drank at breakfast. His stubble scrapes your chin and his teeth knock against yours, and he seems to be holding his breath the whole time. You can't tell if it's because he's nervous, or because he simply forgot how.

Either way, his grip is firm, and he kisses you as if his life depends on it. In this moment, it very well might.

You realize you're standing on the tips of your toes. You tighten your arms around his neck and lean into him, trying to relieve some of the strain. The hand on your neck slips up, cradling your cheek and the feeling of his gloved fingertips is so good, you have to stifle a whimper.

The kiss goes on forever.

It goes on long enough that you should have heard the guards coming, but you didn't.

Suddenly, Hunter pulls away from you, leaving you dizzy and off-balance. Your arms are still wrapped around his neck. You blink rapidly, trying to get your brain to re-engage.

"You didn't need to do that,” he whispers, his voice hoarse, and a little unsteady.

You look up, and meet his eyes, and you realize how close you are to him. The kiss felt like a lifetime. You were pressed up against him so tightly, his hands on you so possessively, that the absence of him is jarring. You shiver, and he rubs his thumb against the back of your neck.

"It was a good plan," you say, because you have no idea what else to say.

You are suddenly painfully aware of the fact that you're standing in the middle of the hallway with Hunter's arms around you. Your legs feel a little bit like jelly.

You want to lean forward and press your face into the hollow of his throat. You want him to pull you closer, to hold you tighter. You want him to kiss you again. You want him to push you up against the wall and—

Your stomach clenches. Your pulse races. You're pretty sure you've never been so turned on in your life, and that's not a useful thing to think about when you're in the middle of a mission.

“They're not coming," Hunter says, and you know, intellectually, that he is referring to the guards, but your mind is in another place entirely.

You don’t trust yourself to speak, so you just nod.

Hunter stares down at you, his eyes roving over you like he's never seen you before. His cheeks are pink, his hair is mussed, and his lips are swollen and slick. You're having a hard time looking away from his mouth.

The hand on your waist shifts, his thumb starts tracing a soft, slow circle across the exposed skin of your hip. It's barely any pressure at all, but it sends a wave of heat through you. Your heart is pounding, and you know he can hear it.

You can feel the blood rushing through your veins, and all you can think is he can't possibly not know, he's got enhanced senses, he can't possibly not know that I'm crazy about him.

Hunter's face is flushed and he looks as wrecked as you feel.

You wonder if he will ever kiss you again.

You are so close that the thought crosses your mind that you could lean forward and kiss him again, and it would be fine. That's what people do, when they've kissed each other. They kiss again.

You're not sure you can bring yourself to do it. You're not sure he’ll let you. He’s still looking at you like he can't quite believe what just happened, or maybe he can't quite believe what he did.

You wonder if there is a way to ask him, without actually asking him.

You wonder if there's a way to make him want you the way you want him.

You wonder, with a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, if you've managed to ruin everything.

"So you think they're gone?" you ask. Your voice sounds normal, somehow, even though you can barely hear over the sound of your heart.

He pauses, like he's forgotten what you're talking about, then says, "They, uh, they turned the corner a minute ago."

"Good," you say, and the two of you stand there in silence.

It would be so easy to reach up and run your fingers through his hair, to pull him down and press your lips to his again. You can't stop thinking about it. Your whole body feels like it's on fire.

Hunter stares down at you, his eyes dark and wide, and you're standing so close together that you can see the flecks of gold in his irises. His face is still flushed, his mouth still slightly open.

If he doesn't kiss you again, you are going to die.

The hand on your waist is warm and heavy, his thumb rubbing slow circles on your skin.

“We should head back to the ship,” he says, but neither of you move.

He leans in a little, and his nose brushes against yours. Your heart is pounding. You feel hot all over.

He hesitates, and you're sure that he's going to kiss you again.

He doesn't.

"I'm going to check the hall," he says, and pulls away from you.

Your body is burning with unspent desire, and your hands are shaking.

He's going to pretend it didn't happen. That's fine. You can do that too. You can absolutely ignore the fact that he just kissed you like he meant it, and you can't stop thinking about it. It's not a problem. You're not going to be awkward around him. It's going to be fine.

Hunter turns the corner. He's gone.

Your hands are still shaking.

"Shit," you whisper.

You lean back against the wall, close your eyes, and try to catch your breath.

It's going to be a long trip home.

It's not going to be weird.

You won't let it be weird.

You keep telling yourself that, over and over, and you hope it will make it true. You’re not going to make it weird. You have to ignore the way Hunter looked at you when you pulled away. You have to forget the way he kissed you, the way his hands felt on your waist, the way he tasted. You have to forget the way he hesitated, and for a moment, you were sure he was going to kiss you again.

This isn’t something you can change. This isn't a mistake you can fix. You've made the best decision you could, and now, you have to live with it.

You try your best to be normal. You sit next to him in the cockpit. You joke with him and laugh at his stories. You make eye contact, and don't stare at his lips.

You have a hard time keeping your distance. The ship is small, and he's everywhere. When he comes into the room, your whole body responds. It's not a conscious reaction. It's involuntary. So you try your best to limit your time alone with him.

It's fine. You're fine. You're being normal.

Except that Hunter is acting...different.

He watches you constantly, like he's waiting for you to say something. He's jumpy and quiet. He's clearly on edge, and you have no idea why. You've replayed the moment outside the vault a thousand times, and you can't figure out where you went wrong.

You're not sure how to talk about it, so you decide to pretend it didn't happen. That should help, right? If the two of you can ignore the kiss, maybe things will go back to normal.

But Hunter doesn't play along.

He keeps touching you.

The first time it happens, it catches you by surprise. You're on a supply run, and the two of you have stopped at a kiosk in the market. He's talking to the merchant about the supplies you need, and his hand brushes the small of your back, right above the base of your spine.

The gesture is so casual, so familiar, and so unexpected, that you jump. You look at him, and he's still focused on the merchant. You must have imagined it.

It happens again, on the ship, when he reaches over and pats your shoulder, his fingers lingering a little longer than necessary. You stare at him, but he doesn't notice. He's looking at Tech.

"Are you all right?" you ask.

"Fine," he says, and he goes back to his work.

It keeps happening.

Everywhere. On the ship. In the hangar. At the bar. Everywhere.

He touches your hand when he gives you your share of the credits. He puts his hand on your hip to guide you around a group of people. He squeezes your shoulder when he passes behind you. He leans over you in the cockpit, and rests his hand on the back of your seat. He tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear yesterday, and he nudged your knee with his while the two of you were sitting around the fire pit.

Everywhere. All the time.

The worst part is that it's not even sexual. He touches you the way a partner would. A lover. Like the two of you are comfortable together, and it's driving you insane. You don't understand why he's doing it.

Every touch is like fire on your skin. Every time, you jump, and every time, you look at him, and every time, he's not looking at you. It's infuriating.

Finally, when he grabs your elbow at Cid's, and you whirl around and glare at him, you realize that it is, in fact, intentional.

You grab him by the front of his armor and drag him into the nearest storage closet. You are absolutely done with this.

Hunter follows without protest, and as soon as the door closes behind him, you turn and demand, "What are you doing?"

He looks at you with amusement. He's smiling a little. It makes him look younger, and even more handsome than usual. "Touching you," he says, as if this is obvious.

You stare at him.

"Why?"

"You don't like it?"

"That's not the point!" You can feel the blush creep into your cheeks. "Why are you doing it?"

He leans down, so that his face is very close to yours. "Because I want to."

His voice is low, and a little rough. He's so close, and he's looking at you in that way that makes you weak in the knees. He reaches out, and cups your face with his hands. His thumb traces your lower lip, and it takes all of your self control not to bite it.

"Because," he murmurs, "you're not stopping me."

You can't breathe.

"Hunter," you say, and you don't recognize your own voice.

"Yes?"

"If you're going to kiss me again, I suggest you do it now."

He looks a little surprised, but then he smiles, and ducks his head and does exactly as you ask.

And, stars, the kiss is so good.

He's much more confident now. Hunter's hand is warm and steady on your jaw, and his lips are firm. He kisses you gently, as if he has all the time in the world. His tongue is soft and wet and teasing, and his other hand has settled on the small of your back, his thumb tracing lazy circles over the thin material of your shirt.

Your hands are pressed against the cold, flat plastoid of his armor, but you need to touch him. You slide your palms up his chest, over his shoulders, until you can cup his neck and tangle your fingers in his hair.

You can't tell who moans. Maybe both of you.

His hands slip under your shirt, and his gloves are soft against your bare skin. He pulls you closer, and the kiss deepens, his tongue pressing deeper, his mouth opening wider. You can't stop the whimper that escapes you.

Your back hits the wall, and the kiss changes, becomes hungrier. He's kissing you like he means it, and you're overwhelmed by the smell of him, the feel of him, the taste of him. He's surrounding you. You're drowning in him, and it's not enough. You're not sure it will ever be enough.

You pull away, gasping, and he looks at you, his eyes dark and unfocused.

"I'm sorry," he says, his voice hoarse, and his fingers tighten on your skin. "I was going to talk to you about this, but I've never been very good at talking."

You stare at him. You feel a little bit like someone has hit you over the head.

"What?" you manage.

He clears his throat. "I thought I'd give it some time. Wait and see if you brought it up, or if you were going to...do that."

You're having a hard time focusing on what he's saying. He's so close to you, and you can feel his chest rising and falling against yours. His hands are on you. He's got one thigh between your legs.

"Do what?"

Hunter gestures, a little helplessly, towards the storage room door. "That."

You take a deep breath and close your eyes. You have no idea what is going on, but you can't think straight when he's so close.

"What are you talking about?" you ask, and your voice is a lot calmer than you feel.

He pauses, and his fingers are tapping out a nervous rhythm against your hip.

"Are you saying we haven't been flirting?" he asks, and the look on his face is almost comical. He looks so confused, so baffled, and so, so handsome. You've never wanted anyone more.

You have no idea what is going on.

"Flirting?" you echo.

"Or...something," he says, a little more cautiously.

You feel a rush of heat rise in your cheeks. You're suddenly aware that the two of you are still pressed together. His hands are on your skin, his thigh is still between your legs. You let go of him, and press your palms flat against the wall. You need some distance from him.

"You've been flirting with me?"

He frowns.

"I thought I was being pretty obvious," he says, and the confusion on his face is adorable.

"So," you say slowly, "you've been touching me, and following me around, and being..." you trail off, not sure how to describe it.

"Attentive?" he offers.

"No."

"Interested?"

"You haven't been subtle," you say instead.

"And I thought you were responding," he says, and he's looking at you like he can't figure you out, "I could hear your heartbeat. It was always a little fast when I touched you."

You're not sure whether to be annoyed or impressed by his powers of observation.

"Yeah," you say, because it seems like the easiest answer, "I was."

He's looking at you expectantly, and the realization hits you like a ton of bricks.

He has no idea what he's doing.

You're so used to being around the guys and seeing them as men, that you forget sometimes, how little experience they actually have. Hunter is a grown man, with enhanced senses, a lethal skill set, and a very high level of intelligence.

But he is also a clone, who spent his entire life training and fighting. Who spent nearly every shore leave on Kamino, surrounded by brothers. Who, as far as you can tell, has never kissed anyone, and certainly has never had sex.

He has no idea what he's doing.

You sigh, and lean your forehead against his chest.

"You're really bad at this," you say, and your voice is muffled by his armor. “I didn’t think you were bad at anything. Especially this kind of thing."

"I've never had a relationship before," he says. "I've never done anything like this before."

"Well, you're doing a good job of pretending you have," you mutter.

"You think I'm good at it?"

You look up at him, and there's an unmistakable look of satisfaction on his face.

"You're terrible," you tell him. He doesn't seem offended by this, so you add, "But you're lucky you're hot, or I would have left."

His expression turns thoughtful.

"So," he starts. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer. His gaze drops from your eyes, down to your lips, and then lower. He pulls you flush against him, his body warm and solid against yours. Your hands are pressed against his chest, and he leans down, until his mouth is close to your ear.

“Are you going to stop me?"

"No," you say. His answering smile is brilliant, and for a moment, you're afraid you might drown.

"Good," he says, and kisses you again.

The second kiss is even better than the first.

He's not hesitant anymore. He's not careful. He's kissing you like he can't get enough, like he's afraid he'll never kiss you again.

His hands are everywhere, sliding up under your shirt, across the flat of your stomach, over the curve of your waist. His thumbs trace the undersides of your breasts, and his teeth tug at your bottom lip. You gasp, and arch into him.

He presses his lips to your neck, and the sound you make is obscene.

You can't think.

You're not sure why he wants you. You're not sure why he's chosen you. But, stars, you want him.

"Hunter," you say. Your voice sounds ragged and desperate, and he groans and presses his mouth to the hollow of your throat.

"This," he says, and his voice is low, and rough, and it sends a shiver down your spine, "is why I've been touching you."

You laugh, a little unsteadily, and run your fingers through his hair, scratching gently at the base of his skull. His reaction is immediate, his breath catching, his mouth opening wider, his hips rocking against yours.

He kisses you again, his tongue slipping into your mouth, and your thoughts scatter. You can't think, can't breathe.

The third kiss is a long, slow, lazy exploration. You kiss him until your legs are weak, and your head is spinning. You kiss him until your lips are swollen and you're breathless. And then you kiss him some more, because you’re still not ready to stop.

"We should," he says, and then doesn't finish the sentence. It doesn't matter, because you know what he's going to say.

"We should," you agree, and you lean into him and rest your forehead on his chest.

He runs his hand through your hair, and the sensation is pleasant. It's warm and soft and comfortable.

The fourth kiss is gentle, and soft, and you can't help but feel like it's more of a promise than anything else.

The fifth kiss is the one that makes you realize, with absolute certainty, that you're doomed.

Hunter kisses you whenever he can.

You don't even have time to be nervous about it, because he doesn't wait for privacy.

In the hangar, before a mission, he leans over you, and tilts your chin up with his fingers, and presses a kiss to your mouth. It's a soft, quick, brush of his lips, and it's so brief, you're not sure it happened.

At Cid's, in the bar, where everyone can see, he reaches over and touches the back of your hand. His thumb strokes the sensitive skin on the inside of your wrist. He leans in and kisses the corner of your mouth. The gesture is casual, and easy, and no one seems to notice. Or no one seems to care.

He does it in front of the others, and you wonder if this is his way of telling them that he wants you and that he doesn't care if they know. You wonder if he's trying to tell you that he's serious, or if he's simply testing the boundaries of his own attraction. You wish he would just tell you what he's thinking.

But you're not going to complain.

When the two of you are alone on the ship, and there's no chance of being interrupted, he does something a little less casual. He grabs your waist and pushes you against the nearest wall, and kisses you until your toes curl.

Every time, you're not sure it's going to happen. Every time, you're waiting for him to get bored, or annoyed, or change his mind.

Every time, he kisses you like he means it.

Sometimes, when he pulls away, his hands are shaking.

You know how he feels.

Every time he kisses you, it takes you by surprise. You're always caught off guard by the way he looks at you. The way his gaze roves over your face, his eyes dark and intense, his brow furrowed.

You're always surprised by the way he smiles when he sees you. It's a small, shy smile, but it's full of affection. You're always shocked by the way he touches you. You're not used to being touched, not like this, not casually, and not with the same gentleness that he uses.

You're not used to it.

But you think you could get used to it.

You want to.

This evening the rest of the squad is out, scattering to enjoy the night before the next job. Hunter has asked you to stay behind.

He's told the others that you're both busy.

He's told them that the two of you are planning the next mission.

He hasn't told them that the two of you are spending a rare night alone together, and have every intention of enjoying it.

As soon as the others are gone, the ramp closing behind them, Hunter turns to you.

"We're not planning the mission, are we?" you ask, even though you know the answer.

"No," he says, and steps towards you. "We're not."

His hand comes up, and his fingers are soft as they cup your cheek.

"Good," you reply. "That was a terrible lie."

He laughs, and the sound warms your heart. You're not sure you've ever seen him so relaxed, so happy. He looks younger, less worried, less tense. You're not sure what's changed.

You don't ask.

He doesn't tell.

He’s far too busy pulling you into his lap, and kissing you until your knees are weak.

His hands are everywhere. On your face. Your neck. Your back. Your waist. They're warm, and strong, and possessive, and his lips are firm, and insistent, and soft, and kriff, he's a really, really good kisser. How he went from being bad at this to being so good, so quickly, you have no idea.

This kiss is a little rough, and a little needy. His hands are on your thighs, holding you in place, and his body is pressed against yours. He's not shy about letting you know that he wants you. He's forgone half of his armor today, and you can feel the insistent press of his cock, hard and straining against his pants.

You want nothing more than to wrap your hand around it, and stroke it, and feel him pulse and spill his seed over your fingers. He'd make the most incredible noises, and his face would flush, and he'd look at you with that dazed, overwhelmed expression he gets, and you want him so badly, it almost hurts.

His hips jerk forward, and you moan into his mouth. He breaks away from you, and presses his face into the curve of your neck. He's breathing hard, and his breath is warm on your skin.

"You're really good at this," he says, and you can't help the laughter that bubbles out of you.

"You're terrible," you tease. "Why do you keep saying that?"

"Because it's true," he murmurs.

You run your hands up his back and scratch lightly at the base of his neck. He shivers, and his fingers tighten on your thighs.

"Good at flirting." He leans in and kisses the hollow of your throat. "Very, very good."

"Stop," you say, laughing, and your face is burning. You're embarrassed by the praise, and the fact that he can feel how warm you are. He can hear your heartbeat. He can probably smell how wet you are.

He chuckles against your skin.

"Why would I do that?" he murmurs. His mouth moves up, and his lips are warm on the underside of your jaw. "I can tell how much you like it."

"Hunter," you hiss. Your voice sounds strained, you almost don't recognize it. He kisses the soft skin just below your ear, his tongue darting out to taste you, and your brain short-circuits.

“I can hear it." There's a note of wonder in his voice, like he's amazed at the way you react to him. "Every time I touch you, your heartbeat gets a little faster."

"You've noticed that?"

"Yeah," he rasps, and the feeling of his voice vibrating through your skin makes you shiver, "I can't concentrate when I hear it. Every time I hear it, all I can think about is kissing you."

"Every time?"

"All the time," he murmurs. He kisses the spot behind your ear, and your toes curl. "You have no idea how distracting it is."

You can't think. All you can do is tilt your head to give him better access. His mouth is hot and wet and he's sucking lightly at the sensitive skin there. You moan softly. His grip on your thighs tightens.

"So," you say, and your voice is unsteady, "what are you going to do about it?"

He pulls away, and his hands slip up, his palms settling on your hips, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass. He looks at you, his gaze traveling over your face, and then dropping lower. You're acutely aware that he's staring at your mouth, and your whole body is buzzing with anticipation.

"Well," he says slowly, and the expression on his face is absolutely sinful, "I was hoping that I could touch you."

You swallow hard. You have to take a few seconds to get your voice working. "Where?" you ask.

He grins, and his eyes sparkle.

"Everywhere."

You nod.

You can feel his body tense, and then he's kissing you again, and you lose track of how many kisses the two of you have shared.

It doesn't matter.

This is the one that's going to ruin you.

This kiss is hard and fast and messy, and his hands are gripping your thighs, his hips are rocking up against yours, and you're grinding on his cock, and it's so good.

His hands slide under your shirt, and his fingertips brush the underside of your breasts. He groans into your mouth, and the sound goes straight to your clit. You grind down on him again, and his hands move up, palming your breasts, and he pinches your nipples between his fingers. The feeling is so sharp and sweet, that you have to pull away from the kiss, gasping for breath.

His mouth is immediately on your neck, his lips warm and wet on your skin. He kisses his way down, across the curve of your shoulder, and bites down on the tender skin of your collarbone. You can feel the sharp edge of his teeth, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

"Fuck," you whisper.

His mouth is still on your skin, but he laughs.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. He runs his tongue over the bite mark. "Did that hurt?"

"Yeah," you say. Your voice is unsteady. "I liked it."

He growls, and his mouth is on yours again. His tongue slips past your lips, and you suck on it, and the sound he makes is so desperate, and so needy, that you have to grind down on his cock again. You can feel him straining against his pants, hard and thick, and you can't wait to get your hands on him.

"Hunter," you manage, and his name comes out like a whine.

"Yes," he says, his mouth pressed against the base of your throat, "anything, just tell me."

"I want to suck your cock."

He freezes.

His entire body goes tense, and he pulls away and stares at you. His eyes go wide, and his lips part. It’s the same look he gave you when you kissed him for the first time, and you can't get over the fact that this, somehow, is more surprising than the kiss.

"Do you want that?" you ask, because maybe he doesn't. Maybe you've read the situation wrong. Maybe you've misjudged his reaction, and now you've made a fool of yourself. You’ve never had anyone turn you down before, but this isn't just anyone. This is Hunter.

He doesn't say anything, but he nods, and the expression on his face is a little dazed, and a lot hungry. His pupils are blown, and his breathing is shallow. He looks wrecked. You've barely touched him, and already, he's a mess.

You've never had anyone look at you like this. It makes you feel powerful and a little bit smug.

"Yes," he says.

"Can I?"

"Yes," he repeats.

He doesn't seem inclined to move, so you slide off his lap, and get to your knees in front of him. When he sees you on the floor, looking up at him, his mouth drops open a little more, and his cock twitches. You can see it straining against his pants.

You want your mouth on him so badly, you're afraid you might pass out. You lick your lips, shifting slightly to ease the ache between your legs. His eyes follow the motion, and he takes a deep breath before reaching for his belt.

He unbuckles it, and pops the button on his pants, and you lean forward, and help him pull them down. His cock springs free, hard and thick and curved, and the tip is already slick and shiny with precome. It’s just as beautiful as the rest of him.

He shifts a little, and you put your hands on his thighs and run the tip of your tongue over the head. The taste is salty and bitter and familiar, and the sound he makes is so needy, you can't help but moan.

"Oh," he says.

He sounds shocked.

"Does that feel good?"

"Yes."

He's looking down at you, his mouth still open, his face flushed, his chest rising and falling rapidly. You wrap your hand around his cock, and he inhales sharply.

"Is this okay?" you ask.

"Yeah."

You lean forward, and kiss the head, and he exhales.

"It's good," he says, and the words are strained.

"I'm glad," you say with a smile.

"You're very...considerate," he says. Your smile widens. You have to hide your grin by pressing a kiss to the side of his cock. His hips jerk forward, and the moan he makes is delicious.

"I'm a nice person."

"You are," he agrees. His voice is rough. "You're a very nice person."

His head falls back, his words dissolving into a groan as you take him into your mouth. The noise he makes is so beautiful, you can't help but moan.

The vibrations must feel good, because his hips jerk, and he makes a choked sound in the back of his throat. The motion forces him deeper, and you have to concentrate to relax, and take him without gagging.

He's thick, and long, and hot, and the way he's trembling and moaning above you makes you feel powerful. It's a little heady, knowing that you're the one who has reduced him to this. You can feel him struggling not to move, and the effort it takes is evident in the way his body is taut, and the tension in his muscles. He's fighting the urge to thrust.

You're not sure how much longer he'll be able to resist, and you can't wait.

You want him to let go. You want him to fuck your mouth. You want him to come on your face. You want him to grab your hair, and use your mouth, and fuck you until you're a mess, and he can't hold himself back any longer.

Your hand is still wrapped around the base of his cock, and you take him as deep as you can. The sounds of his pleasure are intoxicating. You can't get enough of them.

He's breathing heavily, his hands are clenched into fists, and when you pull back, and slide your tongue up the length of his shaft, his hips jerk. You moan again, and he curses and grabs your shoulders. You think he's going to pull you off of him, but instead, he's trying to drag you closer. He's trying to pull you towards him. He's trying to force his cock further into your mouth.

You look up at him, and the expression on his face is desperate, and lost. He's so close. He's barely hanging on. You want him to come. You want him to use you. You want him to give himself to you, and take everything you have to offer.

The hand you have braced on his thigh squeezes as you relax your jaw, and Hunter's eyes shoot open. The expression on his face is somewhere between awe and fear, and his body is tense, like a bowstring, drawn tight and ready to snap.

You squeeze your hand again, and he lets out a harsh breath. One of his hands comes up to cup the back of your head before his hips start to move, and then he's fucking your mouth.

It's rough. It's sloppy. It's perfect. His movements are frantic and uneven, and it's clear that he's not going to last. His grip on your hair tightens, and he fucks your mouth in quick, hard, strokes. It's so good, the feeling of him filling you, his cock sliding in and out, hitting the back of your throat. He's making the most beautiful noises, and you can't believe that you're the one making him sound like this. It's almost too much.

You look up at him through your lashes, and the sight is so overwhelming, that you can't stop the whine that escapes you. A flood of arousal pools between your legs.

His nostrils flare as his eyes flicker down to meet yours. He groans and fucks your mouth harder. You moan and arch into him. You're dripping with need. You can feel your underwear sticking to your cunt, and it's distracting.

"Fuck," he says, his voice hoarse, "are you getting off on this?"

You moan again. You can't help it. It's a reflex.

"Fuck," he hisses again. "Do you like it?"

You moan louder, and his breath catches. His movements stutter, and his grip on your hair tightens.

"You do," he says, and the look on his face is dazed, and disbelieving.

You squeeze his thigh, and he curses. His hand leaves your hair, moving down to wrap around the back of your neck. He pulls you closer, his hips bucking, and he's not pulling away now. He's holding you in place, forcing his cock deeper, and you relax your throat and take him.

"Good girl," he murmurs. The praise hits you like a blow, and you can't help but whine. "Fuck. That's good."

You whimper, and Hunter's hips stutter, and then he's coming. His grip on the back of your neck tightens, and his eyes slam shut. His whole body is tense, his thighs trembling, his cock pulsing as he spills down your throat. It's a lot, you can't swallow fast enough, and it drips out of the corners of your mouth. He's still making these helpless little sounds, and you can't tear your eyes away from him. You want to burn the memory into your brain.

He's beautiful. He's perfect. And you're pretty sure you're going to be ruined for anyone else.

You pull off of him slowly, and his hand drops from the back of your neck. His eyes flutter open to watch you catch the last bit of come on your tongue, and he inhales sharply. The sound is rough and broken, and when you lick your lips, he curses.

You smile at him, and he shakes his head.

"Shit," he breathes.

"How was that?"

"I...you...uh," he trails off, and gestures vaguely. "I can't. Words."

You laugh, and stand up, and press a kiss to the side of his jaw. Hunter turns his head, and kisses you. It's a soft, slow kiss, and you melt into it.

His hands are gentle on your waist, and when the kiss ends, he pulls you close, and holds you tight. He buries his face in the curve of your neck, and sighs.

"You okay?" you ask.

Hunter hums a response, and kisses your neck, and then your jaw, and finally, your mouth. He cups your cheek, and brushes his thumb across your lips, and then kisses you again, and the gentleness of it makes you dizzy. He kisses you until you're breathless, and then pulls away, and rests his forehead against yours.

"What do you need?" he asks. His voice is soft and low, and the concern in his voice makes you flush.

"What do I need?" you repeat. You're not sure what he's asking. You're not sure if he's asking.

"Yeah," he says. "It's only fair."

"You don't have to do anything," you say, a little awkwardly. "I was having a good time."

"I know," he replies, and the smugness in his tone makes you roll your eyes, "but I want to."

"Hunter…" you start, but you're not sure how to finish.

He doesn't seem concerned by this.

"You like being praised," he says. He's looking at you with an expression that's far too serious. You want him to stop. "And you like being held down. Is there anything else?"

"You figured all that out just now?" you ask. Your cheeks are burning. He can't tell what you like. You've barely started. This can't be happening. It has to be a coincidence. You can't be that easy to read. "We've barely done anything."

"I've been paying attention."

"That's..." you trail off. You're not sure what the word is. Embarrassing? Flattering? Surprising?

You keep forgetting how observant he is. It's unnerving, and thrilling, and a little overwhelming.

"Why?"

He's quiet for a moment.

"Because I care about you," he says finally.

"You do?"

"Yeah," he says. There's no hesitation. No doubt. "I care about you."

"I care about you, too," you say.

"So," he continues, "can I touch you?"

You nod, and Hunter grins, and kisses you again.

"Come here," he says. He stands, tucking himself back into his pants before he takes your hand and leads you over to his bunk. He sits down on the edge and pulls you into his lap, and then his mouth is back on yours.

The kiss is messy and uncoordinated, his lips soft and insistent, and he tastes like sweat and sex. You're a little dizzy, and the way he's kissing you isn't helping. It's distracting, and overwhelming, and when his fingers brush over the top of your breast, the sensation is so intense that you can't help but grind down on his thigh.

He makes a small, surprised sound, and his hands find your hips. The world blurs for a moment as he turns and presses you into the mattress. He's above you, his body a warm, solid weight, pinning you to the bed. You wrap your legs around his waist, and arch up, and he groans, and bites down on your shoulder.

"Shit," you gasp.

"Sorry," he says. He doesn't sound sorry.

"It's fine," you breathe. His mouth is still on your shoulder, and he sucks on the spot he just bit. You moan, and your head falls back. "Oh."

"Good?"

"Yes," you pant, and his hands slide up under your shirt. His thumbs trace the curves of your breasts, and he pushes the fabric up until he can expose your chest. His gaze drops, and his eyes widen.

"Kriff, you're gorgeous," he murmurs. Hunter braces himself on one hand and traces the swell of your breast with the other. He runs his fingers over the curve of your waist, and then drags his thumb over the underside of your breast. His eyes are fixed on the way your flesh dimples beneath his touch. "How are you so soft?"

He leans down and kisses the top of your breast, and then nuzzles his face between them.

"I want to touch every inch of you," he whispers, and the sensation of his breath on your skin is maddening. His hair tickles your chest as he moves his mouth to the valley between your breasts. "I want to kiss every part of you."

He presses a line of kisses up the slope of your breast, and then his lips close around your nipple, and you gasp. Your back arches, and your hands scrabble for purchase on the blankets. He sucks and scrapes his teeth across the sensitive bud, and then lets go, and moves his mouth to the other side. His fingers toy with the nipple he just abandoned, and you whine. He's being gentle, and slow, and thorough, and you're not sure how much longer you can take it.

"You're sensitive," he says, and he sounds delighted.

"You're taking too long," you manage.

He laughs, and the vibration from his voice, and the warmth of his breath on your skin, makes your toes curl.

"Patience," he says, and then his mouth is on your nipple again, and the sound that escapes you is half laugh, half moan.

He switches back and forth, sucking, licking, and biting. The movements are teasing and deliberate, and by the time he finally pulls away, your skin is red, and sore, and slick.

"Hunter," you whimper. You want more, you need more, and you're not sure how much longer you can last. "Hunter, please."

He doesn't answer, but he sits up and pulls your shirt over your head, and then reaches for the button of your pants. His fingers are steady, and sure, and his expression is intense. He's focused on the task at hand, and the look of concentration on his face is adorable. You want to laugh, but it's cut off by a gasp as he slips his hand beneath your underwear, and runs his fingers along the seam of your cunt.

"Shit," he breathes, and his voice is strained. His eyes are wide and bright, and his face is flushed. His pupils are blown, and his nostrils are flared.

You're not sure why, but the way he's looking at you makes your cheeks burn.

"Sorry," you mutter.

He gives you a startled look, and shakes his head.

"What?" he asks.

"It's embarrassing," you admit. "I'm...it's a lot."

"Embarrassing?"

You shrug, and look away, and then he's cupping your face in his hand, and tilting your head back. His touch is gentle, and the kiss he gives you is tender. It's soft and sweet and slow, and when he breaks the kiss, he leans his forehead against yours.

"Nothing about you is embarrassing," he murmurs.

"You don't have to say that."

"I mean it."

He looks you in the eye, and his expression is so sincere, so earnest, that your heart clenches.

"It's not embarrassing," he says, and there's a finality in his tone, like he's daring you to disagree with him.

"Okay," you reply, a little weakly.

"Okay." He kisses you again, and it's quick, and chaste, and sweet. He presses a line of kisses up your jaw, and then his mouth is on your ear. "Do you know how many times I've thought about this?" he asks.

You shake your head, and he chuckles. His breath is warm against the side of your face, and his lips are soft on your skin. You can't help but squirm.

"A lot," he whispers, and you feel his mouth curve into a smile. "So much."

His fingers are still stroking you, and when they press against your entrance, you whimper. He teases you, his fingers circling your opening, spreading the wetness that's already leaking out of you. It's driving you crazy, and he's not helping.

"Every time you're near me, I want to touch you," he continues. His mouth moves back down your neck, and he presses a kiss to your collarbone. "Every time you get wet, it drives me crazy."

"You can't be serious," you gasp. His fingers are still teasing you, and you want them inside you. "You can't smell that."

He pauses. His mouth is on the swell of your breast, and his tongue is tracing lazy patterns across your skin. He leans back and looks you in the eye.

"Of course I can," he says.

"How is that possible?"

"The same way I can smell everything else," he says, a little absently, and then leans down and runs his tongue across your nipple. You let out a shaky breath, and he glances up at you. "I've had to go jerk off in the 'fresher, just so I can focus."

"You're joking," you say, because there's no way. It can't be true. There's no way he's attracted to you that much. No one has ever been that attracted to you.

"Not joking," he murmurs. He bites down on the underside of your breast, and then his mouth moves down your stomach. His fingers hook into the waistband of your pants, and he tugs them down and throws them to the side along with your soaked underwear. His eyes are on your cunt, and the look on his face is a little awed, a little hungry, and a lot smug.

"Fuck," he breathes, and the tone of his voice makes your pulse jump. He leans forward and runs the tip of his nose over your pubic bone. You can't help but shiver. His breath is warm against your cunt, and his lips brush over your clit as he speaks. "You're so beautiful. So, so beautiful."

He presses a kiss to the top of your mound, and then his tongue is on you. His hands grip the inside of your thighs, pushing them up and apart, and the first lick is firm and confident, and it sends a jolt through your whole body.

"You taste amazing," he whispers.

You laugh, because what the fuck are you supposed to say to that?

He takes it as an invitation.

"So fucking good," he murmurs, and then he's licking you in earnest. He licks up the length of your slit, his tongue dipping inside, and then he drags it across your clit. You let out a strangled cry as he flicks the tip of his tongue against the sensitive bud, and your hands fly up to grab the back of his head.

"Hunter," you say, and it's supposed to come out as a warning, but it's too breathy, and too needy. He hums in response, and the vibrations from the noise make you clench around nothing.

"You're so wet," he murmurs. His breath is hot against your skin, and his voice is hoarse. "So wet, and so soft."

He licks his way back down, and pushes his tongue inside you. You cry out, and the noise is loud and obscene. It echoes in the small room, and you've never been so grateful for Hunter's enhanced senses. He's always seemed to know what to do, and he's not letting you down now.

He fucks you with his tongue, and it's fast and sloppy, and he's making these needy little noises that send shivers down your spine. His nose grinds into your clit, and his tongue is pressing into the front wall of your cunt, and kriff, the feeling is incredible. It's overwhelming. You can feel the orgasm building, the pressure rising, and it's too much. You can't handle it.

You try to pull away, but his hands tighten on the back of your thighs, and he doesn't let you go. Instead, he doubles down. His tongue speeds up, and the motions are rougher, and more frantic. His teeth graze over your clit, and his lips wrap around the bud, and he sucks, hard.

Your vision whites out, and you can't hear anything but the rush of blood in your ears. Every muscle in your body locks up, and then your release hits you, and you're lost.

Your back arches off the bed, your fingers tightening in Hunter's hair as you grind down on his mouth. The sound you make is raw, and broken, and you don't recognize your own voice. The pleasure is so intense, it almost hurts.

A flood of wetness spills out of you, and Hunter moans. The sound is muffled by your cunt, and his mouth is still on you, and you can't stop yourself from moving against him. You keep riding his face, even though the sensation is overwhelming, and your hips stutter as you push against his mouth.

You're not sure how long it lasts, and when the haze finally lifts, your body is covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Hunter's lips are still on you. He's still licking and sucking and kissing you, and it's too much.

"Stop," you say, and push his face away.

"Did you...?"

"Yes," you say. Your voice is unsteady. You're a little breathless.

"Are you sure?"

"Very," you reply.

"Oh," he says. He sounds dazed. "That was fast."

"Hunter."

"You were really turned on," he says. His eyes are bright, and he's looking at you like he can't quite believe what just happened. His mouth and chin are soaked with your slick, and the sight of him, flushed and disheveled, sends a rush of heat through your veins. "Was it that good?"

You laugh. You can't help it.

"Yes," you say. "I told you, I was already worked up."

"You really like me that much?"

You roll your eyes.

"Yeah, I do," you say. "Now you're just fishing for compliments."

"Maybe," he replies. He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, and when it lowers, he's smiling. His eyes are sparkling, and the expression on his face makes you ache. "It's nice to be wanted."

"Get up here and kiss me," you say, and reach for him. The kiss is deep and slow, and it's a little sloppy. The taste of him mixed with the taste of yourself makes your toes curl.

"But I also want to know what I did right for next time," he says as you break apart.

"Next time?"

"Yeah," he murmurs. He rolls over and pulls you on top of him. "Next time."

"You're very confident," you tease. You prop yourself up on his chest and smile down at him. His eyes are closed, and the look on his face is serene. He's happy. You did that.

"I am," he says. He cracks open an eye. "Was I wrong?"

"No."

"Good," he says. He reaches up and brushes a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "I meant what I said before. I like you."

"You're such a sap," you say. Your cheeks are burning, and your chest feels tight.

"Don't tell the others," he says. His voice is solemn. "I have a reputation to uphold."

"What do I get in return?"

"Hmmm," he murmurs. The sound is a little thoughtful, a little smug. He slides his hands down and palms your ass. "I can think of a few things."

"You have a deal," you say. You lean down and kiss him again. You're not sure how much longer you'll get to spend like this. You'll take every second you can get.

He rolls over and pins you to the bed, and when he kisses you, you lose track of how many times his mouth touches yours.

It doesn't matter.

This one is just the beginning.

Taglist: @covert1ntrovert @bruh-myguy-what @baddest-batchers @spicy-clones @qvnthesia

@arctrooper69 @heidnspeak @kindalonleystars @totallyunidentified @cw80831

@lovelytech9902 @etod @lordofthenerds97 @umekohiganbana @chocolatewastelandtriumph

#hunter x reader #tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter #the bad batch #clone x reader #the clone wars #clone smut #posting this bc i dont want to look at it anymore!#hunter may be a lil ooc sorry #roy writes

554 notes · View notes

youretellingmethisdidnthappen · 5 months

Text

Omega: You and Hunter are having a baby.

Y/N: I'm sorry??

Omega, slamming adoption papers on the table: It's me, sign here.

#bad batch x reader #the bad batch #the bad batch incorrect quotes #the bad batch x reader #incorrect star wars quotes x reader #incorrect star wars #incorrect star wars quotes #incorrect bad batch #hunter x reader #tbb hunter x reader #tbb omega

853 notes · View notes

stellarbit · 6 months

Text

Shifting Loyalties

No warnings. 2.3k words

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: nada

Pairings: SFW The Batch x fem!reader

Summary: You're a dropout Jedi who left with Echo to join the Bad Batch. You and The Batch are assigned to work with the 501st. The Batch get a bit spicy about how friendly you are with the regs.

NSFW Edition

Inspired by physical touch by @queenariesofnarnia :') it's perfect

The Marauder's landing ramp wasn't halfway extended, and your foot tapped with anticipation. Spotting the 501st squadron as you descended, they stood in a group, not in formation, eagerly awaiting your arrival. Working with the Bad Batch was a thrill, but you couldn't deny missing your first squad.

When Echo departed, Hunter extended you the same offer to join the Bad Batch. As a Jedi dropout, you no longer belonged on Coruscant or in the Order. Your path diverged, but that didn't mean you didn't occasionally yearn for your old teammates.

Before it was fully safe to exit, you hurled yourself out of the ship, dashing toward the awaiting clones. The Batch were momentarily stunned; even Tech tore his eyes away from his datapad at your sudden outburst.

"Shorty!" Fives exclaimed as you barrelled into his arms, spinning you around before settling you among your old squad.

"Shorty?" Crosshair sneered, visibly annoyed by what he was seeing. You darted between the regs, embracing each one, sometimes two at a time.

You meshed well with the Batch, but they weren't the touchy-feely type. Consequently, you lacked the courage to breach physical boundaries, especially considering how often you seemed to get under their skin. After your fallout with the Order, you couldn't risk facing any more rejection.

As the Batch followed after you, Wrecker swiveled his head toward his brothers, clearly confused. "Wha- what's going on?" He scratched his head, gesturing in your direction. "What's all that about?" He referred to your playful antics with the group of regs, laughing and roughhousing like a child.

You weren't cold toward them; in fact, you engaged in comfortable teasing. However, you maintained a professional distance, refraining from physical contact, let alone running into their arms.

Echo shrugged, a smile playing on his lips as he reminisced about his former life. "She's just saying hi," he explained. "She served with the 501st for a long time, even before I was taken to Skako Minor." Nostalgia washed over him at the sight of you standing with his 501st brothers - just like old times.

Hunter blinked in astonishment. "That's normal for her?" He had never witnessed you so carefree and jovial before.

Tech tucked his datapad away, adjusting his goggles as he observed the scene. "By their reactions, this doesn't seem abnormal for her. Why this is the first time we're witnessing it, I'm uncertain." He turned to Echo. "Have you seen this behavior before?"

"Sure, but you're all overthinking it," Echo replied, realizing the tension building among his brothers. "She's just comfortable with them." He regretted the last sentence immediately, sensing their egos regarding regular clones turning this joyful reunion into an unspoken competition.

"If she's so comfortable with them," Crosshair spat, "Maybe she should go back to her precious regs." It was exactly the response Echo feared.

The group watched as you responded to Jesse's teasing with a flirtatious elbow, then stumbled slightly into Rex, who steadied you with a hand on your shoulder.

"It's good to see you. Keeping Echo out of trouble?" Rex smiled down at you, then glanced at Echo standing among the Batch. His smile faded upon noticing Clone Force 99 in various stages of glowering. He patted your shoulder. "Uh… why don't you find General Skywalker while I brief the rest of your squad?"

Without a glance back at the Batch, you followed the order. Anakin briefed you on the mission before easing into conversation. "How are you holding up?" He leaned against a crate of supplies.

"It was hard at first, but I feel…" You paused, feeling a warmth spreading over your chest, grateful it rarely reached your cheeks. "At home with the Batch." You couldn't suppress the smile the thought of the Batch brought you. They made your life exciting, and you felt safe fighting alongside them.

Anakin hadn't missed the looks Clone Force 99 threw your way, especially the nastier ones aimed at the clones you hugged. "I'm glad to hear that, Short Stuff." When Hunter and Wrecker glanced over at the two of you with something like disdain, Anakin smirked. Oh, this is too easy. He leaned down just enough so that your face eclipsed his, just out of sight of the Batchers. "Though, it looks like your new crew isn't too happy with you."

You jerked back, incredulous. "Excuse me?" By the time you whipped around, the Batch were already to the Marauder. Everything seemed normal. You shoved Anakin back. "Kriff off, Skywalker."

Anakin raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. Anyway, it looks like it's time for you to rejoin your squad. Good luck."

"Pfft, good luck?" You pulled a face and cracked your neck. "I don't need luck on missions." You may have missed the Jedi General, but you did not miss his arrogant humor.

Anakin smirked as you headed back out and out of earshot. "It wasn't for the mission."

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

Inside the ship, the atmosphere shifted when you returned. Hunter, Wrecker, Crosshair, Tech, and Echo were scattered about on various tasks, their sudden silence and exchanged glances going unnoticed by you as you busied yourself with pulling out sleeping supplies. There was no way you were missing a chance to sleep off the ship.

Sat cleaning his gun, Crosshair’s eyes bore into your back. It didn’t take Hunter’s senses for you to feel his glare. Still packing, you said over your shoulder, “What is it, Crosshair?”

“Oh, nothing,” Crosshair sneered, leaning forward. “Just didn’t realize you missed your regs so much.”

“And why wouldn’t I miss them?” You snorted, not realizing that earned you an even nastier look from the white-haired clone. “Some people have friends, Crosshair. What’s wrong with that?”

Raising an eyebrow, you turned to face him, a smirk playing on your lips. "And what's wrong with that? Some of us actually have friends, you know."

Tech, engrossed in a control panel, interjected, "He's not questioning your friendships. He's just pointing out the obvious preference you seem to have for your old squadmates."

Your hands stilled, and you turned to face them, sensing an underlying tension in the air. "What's going on here?"

Wrecker shuffled awkwardly, his expression troubled. "We just thought you were happier with us."

"I am happy!" you exclaimed. "But it's natural to be excited to see old friends, isn't it?"

When Wrecker’s defeated look didn’t change you looked to Hunter, the sensible brother, for relief. Instead, he had his arms crossed and eyes fixed away from you.

They can’t be serious. You started to turn to Echo when Crosshair abruptly got up, setting his gun aside, and loomed over you within a second.

“Don’t look at Echo to save you,” Crosshair growled, his voice low and menacing. "You seem a little too cozy with them for just 'old friends.'" You tried to step away, but found yourself backed against the counter behind you.

“Cross,” Hunter warned, but his brother didn’t heed the caution, slamming a hand on the shelf a few inches from your face.

The close proximity allowed you to catch Crosshair's scent—gun oil and mint—a combination you'd never been so close to before. It left you breathless, barely able to formulate a response. Crosshair raked his eyes over you as he idly lolled a toothpick around his mouth. He leaned in close. “Why so shy now, Shorty?” he taunted, his voice dropping even lower.

Despite the shiver you felt at the nickname rolling off Crosshair’s tongue, ignored the jibe. “What’s your problem with ‘Shorty’?” you bit back, unwilling to back down.

Tech swiftly wedged himself between you and Crosshair, his tone firm but diplomatic. "Let's not act like children here." Placing a hand on your chest and the other on Crosshair's shoulder, he continued, "Although 'Shorty' might not be the most accurate nickname. If you prefer something else-"

His voice trailed off as he noticed the flush creeping up your chest and spreading to your cheeks and ears. Tech's wide eyes darted between your face and his hand, realizing the unintended intimacy of his touch. "Oh," he stammered, but didn’t pull back his hand. "I-I apologize."

Feeling the weight of their collective stares, you squirmed uncomfortably, yearning for some space to breathe. Tech's touch, coupled with Crosshair's taunting sent a flurry of conflicting emotions coursing through you, rendering you speechless. It seemed like every part of you was reacting, including that one lower part that seemed to have a mind of its own.

Before the tension could escalate further, Echo chimed in with an observation. "Well, I've never seen that before."

Returning to reality, you brushed Tech's hand away and swiftly grabbed your sleeping gear, attempting to regain your composure. "You're all acting like a bunch of-"

"It looks like our sarad is finally blossoming," Crosshair mocked, his voice laced with amusement.

Unable to take another word from him, you shoved past Tech to lunge on Crosshair, whose scowl was now a shit eating smirk. “I’ll wipe that smug-”

Hunter jumped in to hold you back. “Back off, Cross.” You were still grabbing for Crosshair when Hunter’s firm grip on your waist registered with you. You stiffened as Hunter detangled your arms from his shoulder and pulled you aside. He turned to you and surprised you by gently cupped your cheek. “Listen, we’re not trying to upset you.”

You were too aware of all the places your bodies had just touched - where his hands had been. It was all too much and with his hand on your face you simply couldn’t move.

The unexpected closeness and the warmth of his touch left you momentarily stunned, struggling to process the flood of sensations. With an effort to maintain your composure, you pulled away from Hunter's touch, grabbing your gear tightly. But before you could make your escape, Wrecker wrapped you in his arms and wrung you off your feet. “Aw, don’t be mad, we were just worried!” All you could focus on was the size of his hands and how nice his arms felt. When he dropped you, you just stood hunched over with a death grip on your sleeping pack.

The way you just stood at the mouth of the ship wide eyed and huffing, you probably looked like a deranged blurg. You felt deranged. In mere minutes you’d gone from composed to weak kneed simply from a few touches and teases. Being the center of their attention in those minutes had lit something in you that was quickly getting out of control. You still couldn’t manage words when you took off down the Marauder’s ramp.

At once Hunter, Wrecker, Crosshair, and Tech looked back at Echo. Echo echoed the collective astonishment, his tone tinged with bewilderment. "I've never seen her act like that before."

Tech, ever the analyzer, observed the physical signs of your distress with keen interest. He looked down at the hand he'd placed on your chest. "Her heart rate and temperature were elevated," he noted, his analytical nature kicking in. "Her coloring was..." He paused, searching for the right word, "...unexpectedly vibrant." Tech was quick to record his observations, whether mentally or digitally, finding your behavior to be a fascinating new discovery.

"Intriguing," Tech mused, adjusting his glasses with a confident shrug. "Her conduct with us doesn't align with her interactions with her former squadron. This divergence suggests a remarkably positive correlation." His conclusion was delivered with a note of excitement, indicative of his realization of the significance of your reaction. "And I am seldom wrong."

Each member of the Bad Batch absorbed Tech's assessment in their own way, contemplating the implications of your behavior.

When it was time to part ways with the 501st, you made your good-byes. The Batch weren’t much for good-byes, aside from Echo giving an extra farewell to Rex, they watched on from the mouth of the Marauder. You didn’t know when, or if, you’d see them again so you were saying good-bye to each clone.

Jesse sauntered over to the Batch as you engaged in one last round of roughhousing with Fives. He glanced at you, then at the Batch. An obvious jab that didn't fail to elicit a snarl from Crosshair. “Looks like she's clinging to her ‘regs’ a bit too tightly,” he remarked, his tone laced with thinly veiled mockery. Crosshair's lip curled in response, a silent warning brewing beneath his steely exterior. “Maybe it's time she remembers where she belongs.”

“Ay! Sarad!” Wrecker’s voice boomed out suddenly, your head immediately snapping to attention. “You comin’ or what?”

Tech, with a slight adjustment to his goggles, couldn't help but notice the telltale signs of your embarrassment—the faint flush creeping up your cheeks, the nervous smile that flickered across your lips. It was a sight that stirred something in his usually analytical mind. “Looks like she's right where she belongs,” he remarked softly, a rare hint of sentimentality in his tone.

Jesse let out a huff of resignation. “I suppose so. Just make sure you take care of her,” he muttered before slipping away.

As Wrecker slung his arm around your shoulders, nearly toppling you over, you hesitated for a moment. But instead of pulling away, you returned the gesture with a small hip bump, a silent olive branch. This is really going to take some getting used to.

Hunter, helmet tucked under his arm, stepped forward. “If you ever decide you want to go back to the 501st... we'd understand,” he offered, his tone tinged with sincerity.

You shook your head with a laugh, stepping out of Wrecker’s embrace. Playfully knocking an elbow into Hunter’s side, you grinned. “You think I’d trade you guys for the 501st? Not a chance,” you replied, your words carrying a hint of affection.

“Oh, spare us the sentimentality,” Crosshair interjected dryly, though the faint twitch of his lip betrayed a hint of amusement.

As you stood among the Batch, you laughed to yourself. This is going to be fun.

878 notes · View notes

wiltedwilloww · 3 months

Text

The Bad Batch has the most realistic romantic plot because when a gorgeous, independent woman was presented with several equally handsome men, she chooses the smartass.

721 notes · View notes

moomoog017 · 2 months

Text

art ᯓᡣ𐭩 echo on pabu

I was inspired by @thattoothpick 's BEAUTIFUL art of Echo with a lil garden. Please look at it, it's GORGEOUS. [HERE!!!]

411 notes · View notes

decembermidnight · 6 months

Text

Don't lose your focus

Summary: As a Jedi Padawan fighting during the Clone Wars, you and your Master are used to teaming up with Clones. But none are as intriguing as Clone Force 99 and their leader, Sergeant Hunter. Sparks fly immediately and it's difficult to keep your focus. With the mission complete, perhaps the two of you will finally give in and indulge in your desires...

Pairing: Hunter x Jedi!fem!reader

Word count: 5.7k

Warnings: smut, 18+ MDNI, Dom!Hunter, use of pet names (sweetheart), shameless flirting, mentions of alcohol consumption, masculinity kink, voice kink, light choking, hand kink, body worship, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, orgasm delay, creampie

A/N: This is the result of me watching The Bad Batch while ovulating. This is (probably) not how the Force works but your honour I was horny. Thank you to my dear @thefrogdalorian for the immense help and support! I love you so much! Amazing divider by @saradika-graphics At the end of the fic you'll find the links to some amazing Hunter fanarts I found here on Tumblr! These were such an inspiration when writing and I wanted to thank and credit the artists for creating such amazing pieces!

Masterlist - Read on Ao3 - Read Part 2 here!

Another day, another dangerous mission in the Outer Rim.

Nothing new for you and your Master who are used to leading these missions successfully. The only difference is that this time you'll be assisted by Experimental Unit Clone Force 99. It’s the first time you even heard about them, but your superiors assured you they’re best suited for this job. A highly-skilled squad of defective clones with desirable mutations? Sounds interesting.

Apparently, The Bad Batch, as they call themselves, despise rules and protocol and adopt unusual methods to get the job done… Much like you and your Master.

Their ship has just made a bumpy landing on the field, causing a fuss. You watch curiously as the squad descends the ramp. There are four of them, and they undoubtedly look badass in their black armour.

The first one – their leader, you assume – removes his helmet and... damn. Damn. He's hot, with a confident look in his deep brown eyes. He also has long, wavy, dark hair; a feature which has always been a weakness of yours. His face is half covered in a tattoo that resembles a skeleton. He's undoubtedly the most charming of the Batch, and also the most attractive clone you’ve ever come across.

“I’m Sergeant Hunter,” he rasps as he greets you and your Master. His voice is deep and husky, very different from those of all the other clones you’ve met so far.

After introducing himself, Hunter moves to quickly describe the peculiarities that make each of the members of the team unique. As you stand back to observe them, you can’t help thinking just how much fun they are. Wrecker (the strong one) is getting reluctantly lectured by Tech (the smart one) while Crosshair (the laconic and lethal sniper) stands there in silence. He reminds you of your Master so much.

As much as you enjoy observing the rest of the squad, you find your gaze returns to Hunter, the clone with enhanced senses. You are unable to tear your eyes away from him. You know you have to keep it together, but you can’t help eating him with your eyes. Your gaze lingers on his body, on the way his pauldrons make his shoulders even broader, how much the black colour of his armour suits him.

You have just begun fantasising about the way his strong body would look without the armour when you notice Hunter staring directly at you. Busted. You lock eyes for a few seconds and you just know that he understands the nature of the thoughts you’re having about him. Then, your pounding heart skips a beat when Hunter winks at you. It is a split-second gesture that is over so quickly amidst the chaos of the conversation, a little secret between the two of you. You smile flirtatiously at him in response.

The whole group begins heading towards their ship, The Marauder. While the rest of the Batch and your Master head up the ramp towards the ship that will take you to the rendezvous point, you and Hunter pause at the bottom.

“I’m afraid I haven’t caught your name, sweetheart?” Hunter asks, breaking the silence with his deep, raspy voice.

"I am a Jedi, not a sweetheart," you point out teasingly and look at him with crossed arms, trying to sound tough.

"A Padawan," he reminds you with a smirk on his face.

You watch curiously as Hunter takes your braid – the unmistakable sign of your rank as an apprentice – between his fingers. He gently rolls it between his gloved finger and thumb contemplatively as his brown eyes meet your gaze once again.

"I technically outrank you, Sergeant," you say, challenging him.

"You do, Commander," Hunter nods, but makes no effort to move his hand away from your braid, or to interrupt eye contact.

Hunter can tell that you don’t mind the gesture. As if to push the boundaries further, he moves his hand from your braid to gently place it on your cheek. The leather of his glove feels soft against your face. You are stunned that a seasoned soldier such as him can actually be so gentle in the way he touches you.

You can feel the tension coming from the two of you, a simmering fire somewhere deep within. It's only a matter of time before it boils over. You look at each other straight in the eyes, neither one of you daring to look away.

Just as you're about to tease him with yet another witty reply, you hear the sound of footsteps at the top of the ramp.

"Hey, Hunter, are you gonna come with us or what?!" Wrecker shouts, abruptly interrupting your shameless flirting.

"On my way," Hunter replies, without breaking eye contact with you.

His intense gaze lingers on you for a few more seconds before he looks at you apologetically and turns to head up to the ramp and onto the Marauder.

As soon as Hunter turns away from you, you realise just how hard your heart is thundering in your chest. His gaze was so intense that it made you forget to breathe properly. So much for the Jedi breathing techniques. It turns out if there is a handsome man with dark eyes flirting with you, they lose all effectiveness. You take a deep breath, filling your burning lungs with oxygen.

When you enter the ship, you are still trembling. As you take a seat next to your Master, you try to ignore his accusatory glare. You feel his eyes burning into your soul as the guilt threatens to overwhelm you, even though nothing too scandalous happened.

As the Marauder enters hyperspace, your Master takes a seat on the cold metallic floor in an isolated area of the ship. Meditating before battle is a ritual he always follows and you immediately join him. It can help you shift your focus back to where it should be – on the mission. Only, you can't focus.

Instead of your mind becoming one with the Force, you're highly attuned to the actions of the members of the squad. It is as though you can see them as if you were standing before them: Tech studying the holo-maps, Crosshair cleaning his sniper rifle, Wrecker taking a nap, and of course, Hunter. He is mindlessly playing with his vibroknife as he slouches on a crate.

You are entranced by the way his fingers move across the handle and the blade. Maker, the movement of his hand and fingers – you can't focus on anything else as he makes the knife masterfully swirl between them. There's something so erotic about the way he plays with it. Your mind wanders to think about his hands roaming on your body, slipping between your thighs, skillfully rubbing your clit. You fantasise about how quickly Hunter would make you come, how hard your orgasm would be as it tore through you, leaving you a trembling wreck.

Your focus then goes to his muscular thighs. Hunter’s legs are spread wide and he looks so effortlessly masculine. The aura of confidence he radiates as he comfortably sits there, taking up the entire crate as he lounges on top of it, gives you even more thoughts that are unbecoming of a Padawan. It makes you almost dizzy with want as you think about how much you want to straddle him and ride him into ecstasy.

“Are you done?” your Master’s cold voice interrupts your filthy train of thought with a brief and concise message through the Force.

He heard your thoughts. Each and every single one. Your Master caught you red-handed. How embarrassing.

You are too mortified to even mumble an apology, through the Force or otherwise. Instead, you sit there wishing you could be anywhere else in the galaxy as you feel the heat rise in your cheeks and pull your hood up to hide your flustered face in your cape.

Luckily, before the awkward moment can continue for any longer, Tech announces the imminent jump out of hyperspace. You still cannot bear to make eye contact with your Master, shrinking into your blessedly baggy cape as you begin the descent into the planet’s atmosphere...

The mission was a success – you and your Master worked your magic with the precious support of Clone Force 99. What seemed like a desperate operation, turned out to be an extremely important victory for the Republic. Training with your Master has been so hard, but damn did that pay off. You slayed all your enemies elegantly and effortlessly, just like he taught you. The whole Bad Batch congratulated you two. Wrecker was especially impressed, electing the two of you as his favourite Jedi. What an honour. Hunter also invited you and your Master to celebrate the victory by having a drink all together in a cantina.

Just as you’re about to enter the cantina and join the Bad Batch, your Master calls your name. You stop in your tracks, scared that he might reprimand you for the way you acted today. You begin panicking and thinking back to what happened in guilt…

When you and your Master had taken off your heavy capes before engaging in battle, you noticed Hunter couldn't keep his eyes off you. You were wearing a skin-tight dark suit, after all.

It was a fact you decided to exploit after Hunter had given his squad their orders for the mission. You walked away swaying your hips, making sure you gave him a great opportunity to look at your ass. You remember how you could feel his eyes glued to it. You could also feel his desire for you. It was impossible for him to hide; it permeated him, radiated from him. Maker, you love making him crumble.

You think back to the way Crosshair rasped, "Hunter, don't lose your focus.” You are certain that is what your Master is about to scold you for.

Instead, you watch in shock as a half smile appears on your Master’s face, something you don't see very often.

“You did good today. I’m proud of you,” he nods.

Since when does your Master pay you compliments like this?

“Th-Thank you,” you stammer, caught off-guard by how unexpected his praise is.

“You fulfilled your duties as a Jedi. Now, go and have your fun.”

You don’t have time to respond before he turns on his heel and walks away, cape billowing in the breeze. You know your Master doesn’t often like to stick around after missions, often needing some quiet time to himself to decompress and meditate. You let him go, knowing that he will find his way back to the Marauder before it departs, as he always does.

As you step into the Cantina, a smile spreads on your face when you notice the Bad Batch sitting at a table with a full flagon of booze and an empty seat for you to toast your success. You and Hunter lock eyes again as he invites you to sit in that spot close to him.

Hunter loses no time in placing his arm around your shoulders while smiling at you. You lean into his embrace, feeling comforted and protected. The warm presence of his arm around you makes you smile contentedly. It feels so good to let the guard down for once, especially if you're in the arms of a handsome, strong and charming man such as Hunter.

As the night goes on, the three other members of The Bad Batch keep conversing with each other, giving you and Hunter the opportunity to speak privately. It’s as though the background noise fades out. You don't even bother focusing on the discourse the others are having. It’s just you and Hunter flirting shamelessly now.

“You know, I've never seen a ship like yours. I wish I had time to properly explore it... Thoroughly," you flirt with him while draining the last few dregs in your flagon.

"Want me to give you a tour, sweetheart?" he says with a smile on his face, perfectly understanding your intentions.

"Would be cool, yeah," you reply.

Hunter offers you his hand and you gladly accept it with a mischievous smile.

Just as you stand, you feel the alcohol has definitely kicked in. You’re not drunk though, just a little bit tipsy, enough to make you brave and go get exactly what you want.

As soon as you and Hunter get out of the cantina and find yourselves alone in the dark alley, you both give into the instincts you tried to suppress all day long. Hunter pins you to the wall as you pull him closer at the same time, until you join in a passionate, longing kiss.

You welcome his tongue in your mouth as his hands wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him. His touch and the way he kisses you are so confident that you clench around nothing, holding him tighter as you moan in his mouth. Maker, you want him. His whole body jolts when he feels that, pinning you harder against the wall, mentally cursing the armour that is preventing him from feeling the softness of your body against his.

He stops kissing you just so he can look at how stunning you are under the moonlight, hot and flustered after that first, heavy session of making out.

"Look at you. So beautiful," he whispers as he cups your face with his hand, the other one still lingering around your waist. Hunter is treating you like the most precious thing in the galaxy now that he can finally have you all for himself. You lean into his gentle touch as he takes in all the features of your face, especially the way your eyes glimmer with admiration and arousal for him.

You look at his deep, dark and expressive brown eyes and the strong, masculine features of his face that make you throb with need. Your hand caresses his cheek, following the lines of his skeleton tattoo and the contour of his chiseled jaw. He observes you as a sweet smile appears on your face, making you look irresistible and drawing his lips closer to yours once again…

"Hey! Where's Hunter?!" you hear Wrecker shout from inside of the tavern, just as your lips are mere inches apart.

You and Hunter both laugh as you resume the kissing. It's like the whole galaxy stops existing. For a soldier who has seen nothing but war, his kisses are to die for. Your tongues twirl in each other's mouths and it's like his greedy lips can't ever get enough of yours. His mouth is hot like a damn furnace as he takes all the time in the galaxy to worship you with his lips, letting his hands wander throughout your body. You're getting soaked already, feeling your arousal slowly dripping down your legs as a throbbing need pulsates between your thighs. You moan in his mouth as you dig your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. The kiss is getting deeper and more passionate as you go on.

Hunter's lips start to trail down to your neck, making you sigh deeply as he covers it in kisses. Your scent drives him wild. He can smell your pheromones, feeling you're unmistakably full of desire. He can't resist and just gives a swift lick from the base of your neck to your ear that makes you sharply stifle a gasp, arching your back and tightening your grip on his hair.

"Let's go to the Marauder, shall we?" he rasps in your ear, a voice full of lust that gives you goosebumps.

"Y-yes…" you stutter, feeling light-headed with arousal and being incapable of hiding it.

He offers you his hand as you enter the ship. The two of you cut a clumsy path through the Marauder towards Hunter’s bunk, frequently taking breaks where Hunter desperately pushes you against the cool steel walls of the ship, your arms clinging tight to his shoulders and his face buried in your neck.

"Maker... Take off your armour," you plead as his teeth dig into your delicate skin like a feral beast would do with his prey.

He does, letting each piece fall to the ground as you go on kissing each other, leaving a trail of armour pieces on the floor as you slowly make your way towards his bunk. He looks stunning with just his tight black suit on. You take in the broadness of his shoulders, the way his pectorals stand out, highlighted by the tightness of the suit and grope the strong muscles of his biceps. Oh, fuck. How much do you love a man. Tall, muscular, strong, confident, with dark eyes and a head full of long, wavy hair. A Man.

You moan in his mouth when you feel his thick biceps flexing under your touch. A smile forms on his lips as he feels how much you like this. As his arms wrap around your body, yours go in his hair. Maker, how safe do you feel in his arms. It's such an innate instinct – wanting to be held in the arms of a strong man, surrendering and trusting him, something that usually you would never be permitted to do in your life as a Jedi.

You can feel his erection against your lower belly, straining against his extremely thin black suit. His fingers hook in the hem of your pants, yanking them down over your ass, exposing your drenched cunt as he sits you down in his bunk.

He kneels before you, taking your boots and pants off and spreads your legs, his dark eyes looking into yours as a smirk appears on his face.

"Hunter–" you sigh.

"Wanna get you nice and ready for me, sweetheart," he coos as he starts to kiss your inner thigh.

The vision makes you tremble with lust and your hands helplessly clench into fists in a desperate attempt to grab the material under you to keep you steady. Your legs shake but he keeps them steady in his strong arms. He goes on trailing kisses on your inner thighs without ever stopping looking at you. He's taking his time with it, wanting to enjoy the way your whole body is throbbing with need. Your breathing gets more and more shallow as his mouth gets closer to where you want him the most.

You lift your gaze from Hunter’s dark brown eyes, shutting your eyes for a mere fraction of a second, trying to alleviate the aching need you feel. Hunter chooses that moment to finally give you what you need. With a quick lick to your clit, your whole body jerks into his touch and a whimper escapes from your lips.

Hunter smirks up at you, the corner of his mouth lifting upwards in a smug, satisfied look. Then, he proceeds to bury his face between your legs and masterfully lick your swollen clit. His tongue brings you so much pleasure that your back arches involuntarily, pushing yourself further into his mouth. You moan his name and grab a handful of his long, thick hair. He purrs in your cunt when you entangle your fingers in his hair and you notice how his grip on your legs becomes tighter.

"Oh... Oh fuck!" you exclaim in ecstasy, barely able to form words.

One of his hands releases its grasp on your legs, which he has been using to keep you spread open for him. You throw your head back gasping as he slowly slides two of his thick fingers inside you.

"So tight," he growls with a smirk on his face.

Hunter pumps his fingers inside of you, slowly increasing the rhythm, ensuring that you’re stretched out for him. It is a motion that brings you so much pleasure you wonder how it could possibly get better. Your whole body jerks in pure bliss under his touch. He enjoys looking at you like this, you can see it from how darkened his eyes are with lust.

For a brief second, his fingers and mouth leave your cunt, leaving you devastatingly empty. You watch in awe as Hunter sticks them in his mouth, without breaking eye contact with you. He sucks on his fingers, humming while closing his eyes to savor your taste from places where his tongue can’t reach.

"You taste so good, sweetheart," he rasps as he resumes fucking you with his fingers.

He watches you contort under him, moaning and begging for him to return his skillful mouth between your thighs. Your hips thrust up and down right in front of his face. You are shamelessly fucking yourself on his fingers, inviting him to bury his face back in your folds. You desperately bury your hands in his hair in an attempt to pull him closer.

"Damn, you're so beautiful like this," he says before his mouth goes back exactly where you wanted.

Then, Hunter does something absolutely devastating. While he continues licking your clit, he starts sucking it gently, all as he continues pumping his thick fingers inside of you. Hunter wants to draw an orgasm from you, his actions becoming more and more frantic as you grow closer to your climax. He can feel by the irregular way you breathe and shake that you're close.

"Yes. Yes. Like this. Let go, sweetheart," he encourages you.

It's only a matter of seconds before you come, writhing under him. Your legs are wrapped around his head, squishing it. You scream his name so loud it echoes in the Marauder. Hunter is pleased as he looks at your blissed-out expression and feels your cunt clamping around his fingers. Your back arches as you ride your orgasm, pushing yourself further into his tongue so you can feel him licking you through your orgasm. Hunter purrs into your cunt, loving the way you let go around him. He loves how his face is getting soaked in your arousal, so addicted to the way you taste.

Hunter holds you steady as your orgasm fades out. When you regain your senses, you slowly release your grip on his hair. Only then he props himself up and slowly unzips his suit, showing you the beautiful golden skin underneath. A warm contrast under the black, tight layer.

The dark hairs on his chest are perfectly trimmed, accentuating each of his toned muscles and the tattoos which decorate his thick, masculine body. Your gaze is locked on his hand trailing down his abdomen, his muscles rippling as he approaches the hem of his pants.

You shamelessly look at the bulge in his dark suit, a sight that makes your mouth water. Hunter’s lips curve into a smirk once again, noticing that you like what you see. The smug look on his face makes you throb with need once again, despite the fact that he just gave you an intense orgasm.

He hooks his thumb in the hem of his pants, watching intently for your reaction as he slowly pulls the material down to reveal the trimmed, dark hairs around the base of his thick cock.

Hunter notices the intense way you look at it and hears the whimper you just tried to suppress in your throat. He can feel your heart rate going up. It makes him smirk confidently as he goes on, finally freeing his hard, thick cock. You gulp while looking at it, as he uses the same fingers he had buried in you to cover it in your arousal. He gives it a few, firm strokes to ensure it’s nice and wet for you. The mere vision of it makes you bite your lip to muffle another impatient whimper.

Then he is on you, peeling your shirt away from your quivering body, rejoicing when he can finally touch it and worship it with his mouth. Hunter trails kisses across your collarbones and down towards your breasts. He swirls his tongue around the sensitive flesh there, before softly biting your nipples. You gasp when you feel his erection hard against your cunt. He starts to thrust his hips against yours so his cock can rub against your drenched core, getting it soaked in your juices. Your mind turns completely blank at that, heart thundering in your chest as his hands roam across your body.

Hunter aligns himself to your entrance, groaning as his cock slowly makes its way inside of you. You admire his restraint. You know how much he probably wants to take you with one thrust, but instead he is being so gentle and careful with you, making sure that you are well-adjusted to his size.

He takes your jaw in his hand, looking deep inside your eyes as his thick cock stretches you open. You struggle to keep eye contact with him, unlike earlier when you were flirting with him. Now, your eyes only want to roll backwards. The pleasure you feel as he splits you open is overwhelming your body and senses.

You pathetically try to mumble some incoherencies, but he's quick to shut you up with a kiss. Hunter growls low in his throat when he feels your walls desperately clenching around him, as he buries himself into you to the hilt.

"Fuck, sweetheart, you feel so good," he rasps, almost desperately before giving you another wet kiss. Then, he raises his hips only to bury his cock deep inside you, making you moan into his mouth.

"How – how can you feel so fucking good?" he whimpers.

Hunter’s large hands gently cup your face, as he continues placing passionate kisses against your lips while thrusting into you. You notice his kisses become more desperate as he slowly increases the rhythm. As Hunter picks up the pace, he buries his face in your neck, panting low in your ear.

You are certain that he can’t go any faster, before he proves you wrong. He increases the pace to a brutal rhythm, fucking you so hard you start screaming.

"So loud,” he rasps, “They're gonna hear us in the Cantina."

"Then make me shut up," you whisper daringly.

A blaze of lust glimmers in his eyes as you lay down that challenge. Something shifts inside of him as he gives you a feral, animalistic look. Hunter quickly covers your mouth with his hand, showing you his more dominant, commanding side which makes you clamp tightly around his cock.

"Oh, you like this," he smirks, satisfied that this is precisely what you wanted all along.

You nod frantically. There is no use hiding how much this turns you on. Despite how much Hunter shows care towards you, you suspect there is something darker which lingers below the surface. You want to draw it out of him.

"What else do you like, hm?" he coos as he wraps his other hand around your throat, lightly choking you, his thumb rubbing your throat possessively.

The sight of you, looking so vulnerable under him as he can finally dominate you makes him frantic with lust. Gone are the measured thrusts and even rhythm of before. Something feral has overtaken Hunter, a desperate need to claim you. He continues silencing your moans with one hand around your throat and one across your mouth, muffling your gasps as he wrecks you with his cock.

Having Hunter's hand muffling your own moans gives you the opportunity to hear his desperate grunts and pants as they mix with the obscene, squelching sound his cock makes each time he thrusts into you. You close your eyes in bliss, enjoying this moment of pure pleasure.

"Can't keep your eyes open for me, sweetheart? Look at me with those pretty fucking eyes," he growls.

You can't help but whimper at that, at how authoritative he sounds. The Sergeant of The Bad Batch is dominating the fuck out of you. You are a moaning, gasping mess beneath him, unable to think about anything other than how good being furiously pounded by him feels.

"I didn't catch that,” Hunter rasps as he slowly lifts his hand from your mouth. He leans down to put his ear against your mouth “What were you saying, sweetheart?"

"L-let me – fuck!” you gasp, too blissed out to form words.

“Use your words,” Hunter commands, slowing his thrusts down so you can finally speak.

“Let me touch you!" you beg, unable to care about how desperate and pathetic you sound. All you can think about is roaming your hands around the warm, firm expanse of his body.

Hunter smirks, intrigued by your request, only too happy to oblige you. He grabs your hand roughly by the wrist and positions it over his abdomen. You can feel his muscles flexing and contracting under your touch as he thrusts into you. His body is as hard as iron and on fire like a damn furnace, burning with lust.

"Maker…" you whisper.

You let your hand trail up to his firm chest. You grope his pectorals, appreciating the firmness of his muscles. Your cunt clenches around his cock at the sight of your hand against his golden skin. A smirk appears on his face, enjoying what he does to you.

Your hand goes up to his broad shoulder, rubbing over it before you move your hand towards his back. You feel how his muscles strain there with each thrust as he continues pounding into you at a relentless pace. Both of your hands are now caressing his back, feeling every single dimple under your fingertips. Just as you try pulling him close, he starts to give it to you even harder. You scratch your fingernails along his back. You watch in awe as Hunter moans in your mouth at that.

"Could–could fucking smell how much you wanted me earlier. You distracted me the whole time. Couldn't think of anything else besides how good you'd look with my cock inside of you,” he rasps in your neck before biting you, growling wildly as he does. “I was so fucking hard for you, sweetheart," Hunter grunts.

He's so feral for you, fucking you so hard. You can't even mumble a response.

"Smell so good – so fucking good–" he whispers in your ear.

"D-don't s–stop," you mumble in your cockdrunk delirium.

"I can't, sweetheart. This cunt's all I ever wanted,” he growls, “Gonna make you mine. Mine."

"Oh, fuck… Yes," you pant as he props himself up, kneeling in front of you without stopping that devastating rhythm for even half a second.

He looks at your body, at the way your boobs bounce with each thrust as he gives it go you even harder, holding on tight to your legs, using them as leverage to bury himself even deeper inside of you. Seeing him like this makes you remember just how badly you wanted to ride his cock earlier.

"Hunter. Hunter. I want to ride you," you whimper.

"Is that an order, Commander?"

"Y–yes. Yes. Order. S–s-sergeant," you mindlessly go on as he keeps thrusting his cock inside of you.

The thought of you bouncing on his cock makes him throb. In an instant, Hunter lifts you in his arms as if you were weightless and makes you straddle him. He sits with his back against the wall of the bunk. His hands are on your waist and you immediately start rocking your hips up and down, giving into your fantasy from earlier.

"Such a good soldier… So good at following orders," you whisper against his lips.

"Yeah… Sometimes," he smirks before gripping your hair and stealing another wet, hot kiss that makes you melt into him even further.

Your head rolls back in pleasure at the way his cock feels from this position. It's devastating, hitting something deep within you. You almost lose yourself in that feeling, but Hunter won’t allow you to. Even though you are on top of him, Hunter is quick to remind you who’s in charge as he takes your jaw in his hand.

"Eyes on me," he orders firmly.

"Yes, Sergeant," you moan.

You swear you feel him throbbing and choke a grunt when he hears the sensual way you pronounce his title. Clearly, using his rank in this context has done something to Hunter. He moves his thumb between your lips and you suck it provocatively, never stopping yourself from meeting his gaze. Hunter’s pupils widen at the sinful way your lips envelop his finger and your tongue gently touches it. His eyes take into your sensual, precious beauty, before bringing you to him and kissing you again.

Your bodies are damp in sweat and rubbing against one another. Your nipples deliciously catch against his hairy, broad chest. You continue moaning into each other's mouths; your tongues never stop touching.

"Hunter, I'm gonna come–" you whimper.

"Hold it for me, sweetheart," he rasps in a sweet, yet dark voice, having the opposite effect from what he intended.

"Please, I want to come on your cock," you plead desperately.

"Not yet," he smirks.

Hunter grabs your hips and guides your movements so that your clit starts to rub against his pelvis. You let out a loud moan as you hold on to him tighter, digging your nails in his shoulders.

"I can't hold it!" you scream with your eyes shut.

He grabs your chin in his hand, clearly uninterested in your desperate appeals.

"Look at me," he says firmly as you open your eyes. Your vision is too blurry to focus on him but you try nonetheless.

"Now come for me, sweetheart," he rasps darkly.

You obey his order and come hard around his cock. An overwhelming, intense wave of pleasure starts at your core and completely takes over your body. You’re wrecked by uncontrollable shakes as Hunter holds you in his strong arms. You scream and pant as you ride your high. Your eyes roll backwards while Hunter focuses on how beautiful you look when you lose control. Especially when he is the one responsible for it.

Hunter feels your heart running in your chest and every single contraction of your muscles around his cock. The unmistakable, heady scent of sex that fills the Marauder drives him insane, making him burst inside of you. He grunts loudly as he fills you up with his load, holding you tight in his grasp.

You moan in each other's mouths, your forehead leaning on his as you look into each other’s eyes. You never leave each other’s gaze as you both give into the highest of pleasure.

As you come down from your high, your rhythm slows down until it stops completely. Your bodies are intertwined like vines, naked and sweaty as you catch breath in each other’s embrace.

You really do make a great team, after all.

Fanarts: Hunter's back + Shirtless Hunter by @mesvi Hello handsome by @corukant Wet Hunter by @iszapizza Hunter under the shower by @shakall Hunter and his vibroknife by @ve-ti-ver Hunter under the shower by @cloned-eyes Hunter taking off his shirt + Tech by @constant-brain-fog Hunter taking a shower by kaijurave (on twitter/x)

712 notes · View notes

neon-junkie · 7 months

Note

How would TBB react to seeing the reader about to leave on a night out dressed up in a super hot outfit?

Gender-neutral reader, but feminine presenting. Words like 'beautiful' and 'pretty' are used!

Hunter - Even with half of his face tattooed, he still manages to blush through the thickness of the ink. - He's truly lost for words. - Hunter has an adorable stutter as he compliments, "wow, you look… nice- I mean, incredible. Good. Beautiful?" - Hunter then facepalms as he scolds himself for picking "nice" as his first compliment. Ugh, you look so much more than nice! - You'll both be giggling as Hunter takes a deep breath, and begins going into detail about how good you look, highlighting the specific parts that really stand out to him. - You're heading out with friends, but Hunter is quietly hinting that he wants to come along. Totally not because he's jealous or anything, but because he hopes to meet your friends, right? The friends that he's met several times before? Yeah! - Tell him that you'll still be looking this good when you come back home later tonight, and he'll get the hint. - However, he may need to leave a fresh mark or two on your neck, just to get the point across that you're taken.

Echo - This poor, poor man is going to turn the deepest shade of red when he finally sees you. - Why, just WHY did you have to wear that specific outfit that he loves so much?! And you're going out without him too?! Oh, what a tease! - Echo is lost for words as he gushes over you. He feels like it's his wedding day - How is he this lucky? How did he land an angel like you? - There's a tear in his eye as you smother him in kisses, reassuring him that you're all his, that you're the lucky one for being with him, that you can't wait to come home and snuggle up with him later. - Echo doesn't ask for much, but he would like to be kept in the loop on your whereabouts. Purely for your own safety! - "And when you reach the next bar, just comm me. Your friends have my comm number too, don't they? If anything goes wrong, and you want picking up-" blahblahblah. - One final smother in reassuring kisses, and you're good to hit the town!

Wrecker - His mouth instantly hangs open, his eyes turn wide, and his facial expression swiftly turns into a grin as he comments, "HOT!!" - You know in cartoons where the character's mouth drops open, and they begin howling and barking? Yeah, that's Wrecker. - Seriously, you look hot, and Wrecker's going to ensure that you know it. - "Look at you! I can't believe I got myself an angel as sweet as you!" - He'll mention how he's sad that he's not tagging along, but he'll assure you that it's important you spend your time with your friends. - Wrecker isn't as clingy as he seems. After all, he'll be right here, waiting for your return. - And when you do return, all your hangover needs will be met. A tall glass of water waiting for you, a midnight snack, breakfast in bed, and a big buff man to cuddle you back to health!

Tech - This will go one of two ways: - Option one: Tech eyes you up and down, and with a firm nod, he comments, "that is suitable attire for your evening. I hope you enjoy yourself." - Option two: Tech's brain short circuits. He can barely muster up a thought, let alone a comment. Radio silence, but his expression says it all. - Either way, Tech is more than impressed with your outfit choice, and how stunning you look. He just… struggles to find the words, like a deer in the headlights. - Give him a few moments, and you'll be met with suitable praise. "How exquisite you look, a truly elegant and radiant creature." - Tech can't pinpoint one specific word to describe how beautiful you look, so instead, he selects the most complex and in-depth ones. He doesn't want to rely on a 'standard compliment.' - A few kisses later, and you're off to meet your friends. All the while, Tech begins pacing around the Marauder like a lost puppy. He needs to keep himself occupied until you return!

Crosshair - He's instantly thirsty for you, smiling cheekily as he eyes you up, gawking at the sight of you. - Crosshair has a way with words, and spews out his praise, all whilst kneading at your waist, his hands trailing down to grab your ass whilst he steals a handful of kisses from you. - And then it dawns on him… - You're going out with your friends tonight, not him… - Jealousy swiftly takes over, and his compliment turn into teasing (yet petty) jabs. Nothing to hurt your feelings, though. - "Any reason why you're wearing this tonight? Do you need more attention? Am I not enough for you?" - Whilst his tone is teasing, there's a desperate need for validation. - Yes, he knows you'd never be stupid and hurt him, but… can you please remind him one more time? - Don't be surprised when you leave, and minutes later, Crosshair sends you a holotext. "Comm me if you need anything, Beautiful."

#tbbwriting #the bad batch #tbb #tbb x reader #the bad batch x reader #reader insert #gn!reader #fluff #hunter x reader #echo x reader #wrecker x reader #tech x reader #crosshair x reader #tbb fanfic

1K notes · View notes

justaparsec94 · 4 months

Text

Sniper

Summary: You're a civilian medic assigned to The Bad Batch, during a mission you are injured and Crosshair has to get you to safety. Seeing you hurt has him struggling to come to terms with his feelings for you.

Pairing: Crosshair x fem!reader

Word Count: 6,599

Warnings: Description of Injury, Blood, Gore, Broken Bones, Needles

Authors Note: I've been watching too many medical shows lately and this is the result.

****************

When GAR High Command had decided to assign a civilian medic to Clone Force 99 Crosshair had completely baulked at the idea. They didn’t need some medic, especially a civ tagging along with them and upsetting the balance they had achieved as a team. Tech had always been considered their resident medic and Crosshair and the rest of his brothers had enough basic medical training to get by in the event Tech wasn’t around. In Crosshair's opinion that was good enough. But his protests had gone largely ignored and within days you had shown up at their ship with bright eyes and a warm smile and that had been it.

It hadn’t taken long for you to find your place amongst the squad, you seemed to get along well with everyone, even despite Crosshair’s initial attempts to scare you off. His brothers had all accepted you quickly and even though he would never admit it to anyone it hadn't taken long for your charms to work on him too. There was just something about you that drew him in. You just had an easygoing way about you, always ready with a smile or joke, or an encouraging comment. You were smart and competent, never a liability in the field. And your bedside manner was impeccable, they all knew they were in good hands any time you had to work on them. Even Crosshair could admit that you were a good addition to the team. And as Tech liked to point out, their efficiency had improved with your presence as they no longer had to make trips back and forth to Kamino for every medical need.

It wasn’t just your professionalism that drew him in though. He had spent many hours in hyperspace sitting silently at your side while he cleaned the Firepuncher and you idly chatted about whatever facts you had learned about the planets your missions had taken you to, or whatever recent medical journal you had read. He just liked spending time with you, which until you had come into his life was a completely foreign feeling for him. He didn’t like people. But you seemed to be the exception. It also didn’t hurt that you were beautiful. Warm and radiant in a way that made his heart pound if he stared at you too long. He ached for you in a way that was decidedly unprofessional but he kept those feelings locked up tight. He knew there was no chance that someone as bright and beautiful as you would fall for someone, well, someone like him. Asshole wasn’t his nickname for no reason at all.

His feelings weren’t helped by the fact that the two of you were often paired on missions. You could handle yourself and knew how to use a blaster if needed but as a medic, your job was to stay out of the fight while still being close enough that you could get to them quickly if needed. As the squad's sharpshooter, he often was separate from his brothers, finding the spot that would give him the best advantage. It only made sense that on the missions where you couldn’t hang back close enough on The Marauder, you would join him instead. He wouldn’t admit that he enjoyed the times the two of you spent together, holed up in some spot keeping a close eye on your squad, but he did. Crosshair wasn’t soft, he was harsh and unyielding but that didn’t ever seem to bother you. He gave little but you took and gave right back. Never with frustration or annoyance. He knew he didn’t always deserve your kindness but you gave it anyway, without fail. You just seemed to understand him in a way that very few others did.

As much as he believed that you couldn’t possibly have any feelings beyond friendship towards him there were times, as the two of you lay side by side in the dirt when you would look at him just so, that he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe his feelings weren’t so one-sided. It was dangerous, this line that the two of you toed. You were dangerous. Because he knew that if he let himself he could get completely lost in you.

Currently, the two of you were staked out at the top of a rocky cliff on some backwater planet he didn’t care enough about to remember the name of. The plan was relatively simple, his brothers would storm the village where the Seppies had dug in while he provided covering fire. In and out if everything went according to plan.

“Did you know that the residents of this planet worship the god of the moon? They believe he brings them good fortune. Each full moon they throw a festival and offer up gifts as a thank you,” You said suddenly breaking the relative silence between the two of you. It was a habit of yours that he liked, a way to break the pre-battle tension.

“Hm,” Crosshair mused as he looked through his scope. He could see his brothers getting into position as the squad of clankers cleared the ridge just in front of the village. A series of small, calculated explosions set up by Wrecker had drawn them out and hopefully in doing so would reduce the risk of the planet's inhabitants being harmed in the ensuing fight. From this current vantage point, Crosshair would have no problem picking them off as they approached the rest of his squad, “That sounds like a lot of work.”

“Especially when you consider that full moons occur twice a month on this planet,” You added as you peered through your own scopes to watch the battle unfold.

“Must be nice to get so many gifts,” Crosshair replied as the first shots sounded. He took aim with ease, picking off droids one by one as his brothers got to work.

“Must be,” You said, your tone considering, “Though if I were a god I don’t know if I’d be all that excited about a bunch of pickled vegetables.”

“So ungrateful,” Crosshair tsked as he picked off another super battle droid. You laughed at his reply and he gave himself a mental pat on the back at his ability to not get distracted by such a lovely sound.

He fell into an easy rhythm, picking off droids, calling out their movements and targets to his brothers. It was all second nature to him, as easy as breathing. However, from past experience, he should have known it couldn’t be that easy.

“I think they might have spotted you,” You said suddenly, a quick glance over at you showed you were still peering intently through your own scopes. Sure enough, the cliff shook as a blast hit about 30 feet below their position.

Crosshair hissed as small rocks and debris rained down from the impact, he immediately scanned the field, looking for the source of the blast. His heart kicked up a notch as he found the barrel of a tank aimed directly at him.

“Crosshair, look out!” You cried, panic lacing your tone as you scrambled to your feet. He was moving without even thinking, just catching a glimpse of the blast of energy headed straight for them as you both threw yourselves from your positions.

“No!” Was all Crosshair was able to shout as he looked back towards you before the earth between you exploded. He saw your body tumbling through the air momentarily before he too was launched by the blast. The world became a blur as he was thrown head over heels, tumbling through space before he landed with a hard crunch against the rocks. The air completely left his lungs as he landed in a heap. His head spun as he wheezed, trying to pull in a full breath. The pain from the rocks around him bit through him even with his armour on. He was definitely going to feel this one later.

With a pain-filled groan, he rolled over, pulling himself up into sitting. It took another long moment but finally, his lungs found their normal rhythm again as he surveyed the scene around him. The spot he had been perched on had been obliterated, a pile of rubble all that was left of his sniper's nest. A sort of numb shock washed through him as he realized that without your warning he likely would have been blown to pieces too.

Suddenly a loud and agonized cry caught his attention. His blood ran cold as he looked at the place where you had once stood. He was on his feet before his mind could fully comprehend it, any aches he had been feeling completely forgotten about as he rushed to the edge of the cliff.

His heart was pounding in his chest, terrified of what he might find, as he reached the edge and he took in the sight below him. You’d been thrown clear off the cliff by the blast, landing on a ledge nearly 10 feet below. Even from this distance a quick scan of you was all it took for him to figure out what had you crying out in such agony. You were in a contorted seated position, hands grasping at your leg. It appeared as though you had tried to right yourself in the air and had likely landed on your feet but the impact had been too severe as now the sole of your right foot completely everted, twisted unnaturally and offset from your leg.

Crosshair felt as though he were going to be sick as he half slid then jumped down the cliff side to land at your side. Agony was written clearly across your face as you looked up at him. A white knuckle grip on your injured leg told him just how badly you were hurting.

“Get my kit,” you managed to ground out between your teeth before you let out another soft cry of pain.

Your gear had been separated from you during the blast but thankfully it was intact only a few feet away. Crosshair grabbed it and was back at your side in an instant. His heart was still pounding painfully against his ribs as he looked at you. On top of the obvious leg injury, you were also covered in scrapes, likely from the flying debris, having not had any armour to protect you like he had.

“What do you need me to do?” He asked, trying to remain stoic as you took the bag from him, unzipping it with shaking hands.

“I need pain meds. And then I’m going to need you to cut off my boot. We need to straighten it,” you hissed between clenched teeth as you pulled a hypo-needle from your bag.

If Crosshair had thought he was going to be sick before it was nothing compared to how he felt now. The thought of laying his hands on you and causing you more pain was unthinkable. He watched in painful silence as a tear slid down your face, your hands still shaking slightly as you drew up the medication from the vial.

“Can you administer this?” You asked, holding the needle out to him, “My hands are shaking too much, I’ll probably miss the vein.”

Wordlessly he took it from you, all of the training he had received taking over and putting him on autopilot. He had done this countless times for his brothers before, he could do it now too. But that fact that it was you made it different. You should be the one helping him, not the other way around. You should have never been put in such a dangerous position. You could have died…he could have lost you.

You let out a soft hiss of air as he administered the shot into the crook of your arm. He was about to say something to you, what he wasn’t sure, provide reassurance maybe, but he was cut off by his comm pinging.

“Crosshair, come in,” Hunter’s voice filtered in through his helmet, “Are you alright? We saw that blast.”

Crosshair looked up briefly towards the battle, it was clear the number of droids was diminishing but the firefight was still intense. He lifted his hand to his earpiece to answer his brother, “I’m fine. Doc took a hit. Working on her now.”

“Keep us updated,” Straight to the point but the concern in Hunter’s voice was clear.

Crosshair didn’t bother with a response to that, simply turned his attention back to you. You were quickly beginning to look worse by the minute.

“There’s a pair of shears in my bag that’ll cut through my boot,” you said, taking the needle from him and dumping it back in your bag. With that done you leaned back slightly propping yourself on your hands as you let out another shaky breath.

“We should just get you out of here,” Crosshair said, he would never admit out loud the amount of fear that was lacing through him at the thought of causing you more pain, even if it was to help you in the long run.

“We need to stabilize my leg first. It will only get worse if we leave it,” You replied in the same professional air as always, as though you were talking about a patient and not your own injury.

Shears in hand Crosshair moved down towards your leg. Up close it was even worse, the unnatural angle of it made his stomach roll. Blood was leaking out between the bottom of your pants and the high top of your combat boot, staining the ground below.

“It’s fine Cross,” You said, clearly noticing the discomfort he was trying hard to conceal. Normally he would have warmed at the gentle way you always said the shortened version of his name but right now the only thing he felt was dread, “Just do it.”

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding before pulling off his helmet and setting it beside him on the ground. As advanced as his HUD was he needed an unobstructed view of what he was about to do.

At first, you were silent as he started cutting, your leg shaking slightly the only sign of your discomfort. But as he began to peel away the layers of bloodied boot and sock a string of curses so impressive that it had him looking up at you in surprise flew from your mouth.

He couldn’t stop the small smirk that made its way onto his face, “Who knew you had such a mouth on you Sunshine.”

“Just take my kriffing boot off,” you hissed. Even from where he was sitting he could see the way your shoulders heaved with each painful breath.

He did as he was told, his entire body tensed as you let out a painful howl as he pulled your boot away from your foot. A cold sweat broke out on the back of his neck as he looked at your mangled ankle. Blood was flowing from the opening where the bones of your leg were clearly visible, your foot off centre and from the looks of it hanging on by nothing more than skin and tendon. He'd seen hundreds of horrible injuries throughout the war, many worse than this, but the fact that it was you rattled him to his very core.

His eyes strayed back up to you as he tried to hide the horror he felt at the sight of your leg. Your eyes were shut as you took a few deep, shuddering breaths and he could see a clammy sheen on your skin that hadn’t been there before. He knew he would have to hurry before shock set in fully.

Your eyes blinked open again and he knew the look you were giving him was meant to be reassuring, “You have to move my foot back into place, it’ll help restore circulation.”

“But the pain-“ Crosshair started but you cut him off with a shake of your head.

“I’ve taken enough pain medication to sedate a bantha. I’m not even going to remember any of this has happened within the next few minutes. You have to do it, Cross, please.”

The words in his head slipped out before he could stop them, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You could never,” You said softly, reaching out to put a hand on his arm, “this is helping me.”

He took a deep breath, “On three?”

You nodded, pain and fear mixing in your eyes as he grasped your foot, “Do it.”

“One… two… three,” He tried to think of anything else as he pulled on your foot, attempting to realign it with the rest of your leg.

The cries you let out would haunt him for the rest of his life. He stopped once your voice croaked out and when it felt as if he couldn’t budge it anymore. It was definitely straighter and the amount of blood flowing had lessened but the bone was still exposed.

Content that he had done what he could and anxious to get you off this kriffing cliff he looked back up at you for his next directions. All the blood had drained from your face and his heart rate kicked up a notch as he watched your chin dip down towards your chest. Your entire upper body suddenly sagged back down towards the ground. He managed to move in time to catch you by the shoulders, lowering you down softly to the ground as you let out a weak and pained moan.

“Look at me,” he demanded, his hands firmly on your shoulders. Your eyes opened at his command, staring blankly up at the sky first before sluggishly finding their way to his face, “focus on me.”

“I am,” you replied weakly as he gently mopped at the cold sweat on your forehead. You let out another groan before you seemed to pull your thoughts back together, “there’s dressings and an air cast in the bag. Put the dressing over the open wound and then put on the splint, there’s a valve on the side to inflate it. It’ll keep it stable and put pressure on the wound.”

He quickly went about doing as he was told, his anxiety was amping up with each passing minute. He needed to get you to safety. You let out a few more painful cries as he applied the dressing and the splint but they were weak, your voice hoarse from your earlier screams.

“Antibiotics,” you mumbled once he had finished and moved back up towards your head. You gestured with a flailing hand towards your bag. He wasn’t sure if it was the medications kicking in, the pain, or a combination of both but you were clearly becoming weaker and more out of it by the minute.

He was thankful that you were so meticulous about your kit as he dug through the bag and quickly located the vial of antibiotics. You didn’t even flinch as this needle went it, simply blinked up at him sluggishly as he went about cleaning and getting everything stored away.

“You did good,” you said weakly, your words beginning to slur together. Your hand waved towards him and on instinct he reached out to grab it, lacing your fingers together and giving you a reassuring squeeze.

“We have to get you out of here,” he replied tersely as he surveyed the area around them. It wouldn’t be an easy journey down the cliff. He would have to fully support you over the rough terrain, if not carry you completely. The only saving grace was that likely thinking the blast had destroyed you both the clankers were no longer firing on your position. But the sounds and sights of an ongoing firefight in the direction he knew his brothers were meant a pickup would be unlikely at this time.

He looked down at your prone form again, some of the colour had returned to your face but not enough to ease his nerves, “Can you sit up?”

You groaned but managed to pull your upper body back up into sitting without his help. You seemed to wobble slightly before righting yourself and looking up at him, “m’ok.”

“Clearly,” he scoffed before he could stop himself. He grabbed his helmet and put it back on, activating his comm as he kept a close eye on you.

“Hunter," He barked over his comm, "I’m moving Doc now. We’ll rendezvous at The Marauder.”

“Copy that. We’ve got things under control here,” Hunter replied instantly, the slight breathlessness in his voice over the comm the only sign that he was in the midst of battle.

Crosshair wanted to snark out that from the sights of the explosions in the distance, it didn’t look like they did but he let the moment pass. You were more important than getting under his eldest brother's skin at the moment.

Disconnecting his comm he stood, he looked down at you for a moment, weighing his options before he stooped and wrapped his arms underneath your own, hands resting on your shoulder blades. He didn’t give you any warning before he pulled you up onto your good foot, hoping the lack of warning would cut down on anticipation pain but you still moaned with the movement. He had to steady you as you swayed like a tree in the breeze once fully upright.

“Do you think you can try walking?” He asked after you had stilled. He didn’t miss the white knuckle grip you had on his armoured arms, your face pale and clammy once more as he helped take most of the weight of your injured right leg as you held it up off the ground.

“Gotta try,” you mumbled. He gave a stiff nod and then maneuvered himself to your side, his arm going around your waist as you slipped an arm over his shoulders. He pressed his hip into you to take the brunt of your weight, your injured leg sandwiched between you both. It was awkward due to your major height difference but it would have to do. He managed to grab your kit with his free hand, slinging the bag over his shoulder before he helped you hop forward on your uninjured leg.

It was instantly apparent that this wasn’t going to work as you let out another horrible cry that cleaved his heart from his chest. The vibrations from his and your own movements were likely too much for your injured leg and you crumbled against him.

With a single smooth motion, he hooked his arm under your knees and around your back, scooping you up into his arms. In the past when he had pictured you in his arms thousands of times before this situation had never even been considered and he desperately hoped it would never happen again.

Your head lolled against his chest as he took a moment to adjust to your weight, the rest of your body was essentially limp in his arms. You weren’t heavy by any means but it was an adjustment to rebalance himself with the added weight, especially on such rough terrain and with your kit and the Firepuncher slung across his back.

You were mostly silent as he began making his way down the cliff side but every once in a while a soft moan would escape your lips. He tried his best not to jostle you too much but thankfully by your lack of protest, it seemed like the pain medication had fully kicked in.

The dissent was slow and Crosshair couldn’t help but now curse his decision to chose this spot for his sniper's nest. You wouldn’t even be in this situation if he had chosen somewhere else. He sighed, desperately trying to keep his feet underneath the shifting rock as he picked his way down the cliffside.

He had made it about halfway down the cliff without any sound from you, the gentle puff of your breath against the sliver of exposed skin between his helmet and the neck of his blacks the only sign you were still with him.

He was about to duck his head to check you were still awake when a sudden soft mumble caught his attention, “You’re my favourite, you know.”

He scoffed, tilting his head down as best as he could to try and get a better look at your face, “You really overdid it on the drugs.”

You tipped your head up to look at him, shaking it slightly in disagreement “No is true,” you slurred before your head lolled back onto his shoulder

Your next words were so quiet we wouldn’t have heard them had you not been so close but as it was they made his insides freeze, “Sexy sniper.”

He let out a sound that was half scoff, half chuckle, “You’re delirious.” You couldn’t possibly feel the same way about him that he felt about you. It just had to be the drugs talking.

“No m’not,” You protested again as your one hand came up to wrap weakly around his neck, “You’re s’handsome.”

“Stop,” he hissed. He couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand the way your words, addled by medication or not, were getting his hopes up.

“Ok,” You mumbled but your hand stayed laced around his neck, “S’ok if you don’t like me back. Just thought you should know.”

His entire body felt as if it were on fire as he gazed down at you. Your words reverberated around his skull, solidifying something in his very soul. He was so bloody kriffed. You had your eyes closed, head resting gently on his shoulder, looking for all the galaxy as if you hadn’t just said something that had completely ruined him.

He couldn’t even begin to think of what to say back to you. A part of him was convinced the words out of your mouth were completely drug-fueled nonsense, but the other part wanted to hold onto them and on to you and never let go.

His comm blaring in his ear cut off any sort of response he could have come up with.

“Crosshair!” Tech’s voice vibrated through his helmet, “You have droid starfighters headed your way!”

Crosshair cursed as he looked up and sure enough, he spotted two blips in the sky growing bigger by the moment.

“Cross?” You asked weakly from his arms, sensing his distress.

There was no time to answer you though, he moved back towards the centre of the cliff, as far from the edge as he could get as the fighters roared overhead. The cliff shook, debris raining down around them as hyena droid bombers dropped their load. Crosshair cursed again as his feet slid beneath him, he held you as close to his body as possible as the cliff continued to crumble around you both. He wouldn’t drop you, he couldn’t.

You both let out a cry as he slid further down the cliff, feet scrambling as he desperately tried to maintain his balance. You cried out in agony at the shifting and jostling as Crosshair slipped once more, going down to his knees as the ground beneath him gave way. He managed to keep you in his arms but the pained noises you made as the earth below you both finally settled indicated that more damage had been done.

“Put me down,” You cried out, writhing in his arms, “Put me down. Put me down.”

It was the last thing he wanted to do, he just needed to get you to the ship. But as he watched all of the remaining colour drain from your face he knew he didn’t have much of a choice.

You screamed in pain as he placed you down on the ground again, hands clawing at his chest plate as you screwed your eyes shut. Even through the filters in his helmet, he could smell fresh blood. He risked a look at the splint and while it still looked intact clearly the past few minutes had not done you any favours.

“Easy,” He said softly as he moved his hands to your shoulders in an attempt to steady you, “We need to get you back to the ship.”

“No, no, no,” You chanted as your bloodshot and glassy eyes popped open momentarily, “I can’t.”

“You have to,” Crosshair barked out, his tone harsher than he intended. The stress of the situation was eating away at him. He just wanted to get you to safety. He knew that between the pain and the medication you weren’t in the right state of mind. Knew that had the situation been reversed you would have been hauling his shebs back to the ship no matter how much he protested but he just couldn’t bear the thought of causing you so much pain. He’d do it, but it would kill him every step of the way.

Your eyes had slipped closed once more and your voice was weak as you spoke, “Just leave me. I’m no use to you guys anyways.”

“Now you’re just being dramatic,” Crosshair hissed and rolled his eyes even though he knew you couldn’t see his expression.

You didn’t say anything, but he watched you for a moment, the way your chest was rising and falling raggedly. You needed more help than he could give.

A sudden explosion off in the distance, likely Wrecker’s doing, caught his attention. He watched the cloud settle before he reached up to activate his comm.

“Tech we’re going to need a pickup,” Crosshair barked, “Doc is fading fast.”

“Copy,” Tech replied, “ETA 10 minutes.”

Clearly whatever the explosion had been had been an end to the firefight. He transmitted his location to Tech and then he waited.

It was one of the longest 10 minutes of his life as he kneeled over you, one of your hands clasped between both of his as it shook. Your eyes had slipped closed again but he could tell by the way you were breathing that you weren’t asleep. He wasn’t even fully aware of the words that were leaving his mouth but he just felt the overwhelming need to reassure you in some way. It’s what you would have done for him or any of his brothers in the same situation.

He finally let out a breath of his own as the familiar sounds of The Marauder's engines filled the air around them. Your eyes popped open as it came into position, hovering beside the cliff edge.

Wrecker came barreling down the ramp, jumping onto the ledge with ease and quickly covering the distance. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of you but he didn’t falter in his movements.

“Hang in there, doc,” He said as he kneeled down, “we got ya!”

You let out another painful moan as he lifted you up and into his arms. The lack of volume and fight from you worried Crosshair immensely but he didn’t hesitate. He grabbed your kit and followed quickly after Wrecker as he carried you onto the ship.

Tech was at your side in an instant, directing Wrecker to lay you down on the middle bunk in the back of the ship. You groaned again as Wrecker gently laid you down but it seemed that all of the energy had been sucked right out of you. You were so pale and weak that Crosshair felt almost feral with the amount of fear that was coursing through him. You needed to be ok. Anything else was not an option.

He couldn’t bring himself to leave your side, even as Wrecker left and Hunter appeared in his place. Tech ignored you all, the medscanner passing over you as he worked. His brow was furrowed beneath his goggles in concentration as he assessed your condition. All the while you remained still and silent, your eyes only opening for brief moments.

“This is beyond my skill level, she has suffered a severely displaced compound fracture. She will require surgical repair of this,” Tech replied matter of factly before he turned to look at Hunter, “Set course to Kamino, it is the closest medical facility to our current location.”

“On it,” Hunter replied moving instantly off towards the cockpit. Technically as a civilian member of the GAR, they should have been taking you to the medical base on Coruscant but that would add days to their travel, time they did not have.

“Will she be ok?” Crosshair asked, tension evident in his voice.

Tech looked at him briefly before his eyes returned to the medscanner in his hands, “She is stable for now. It is a serious injury but I am hopeful she will make a full recovery once in the proper hands. You did a good job stabilizing her in the field.”

“I just followed her instructions,” He grumbled.

“In any case, a good job,” Tech repeated, “I will do my best to make her comfortable for the journey and ensure she remains stable.”

Tech became a flurry of movement as he bent over you, checking your vitals and looking for any other injuries. Crosshair couldn’t bring himself to leave your side. Not when you were like this. Instinctually he kept creeping forward, the distance between the two of you unbearable. He just wanted to touch you, to feel that you were still with them, still alright.

“Crosshair!” Tech snapped, pausing in his work drawing up more pain meds for you, “Your hovering is distracting and not helpful. Go clean yourself up. You are covered in blood.”

Crosshair growled at his brother, unwilling to part from your side when you were in such a state. A biting response was on his tongue but Tech didn’t let him speak, “You know she would say the same if she were not so out of it.”

As if sensing you were being spoken about you perked slightly, eyes opening as you turned your head towards the sounds of their voices, “Cross,” You called out again softly.

He shouldered past Tech, who tsked in annoyance, and kneeled down beside your head, reaching for the hand you held out towards him, “What is it, mesh’la?”

“Did you know that on this moon they worship the gods?” Your eyes were big and glassy as you looked up at him. Your tone was completely serious, as though this was the most important information you had ever told him.

He scoffed and ignored the jumbled way your sentence had come out, “Yeah, I even hear they give gifts to their god every full moon.”

Your eyes widened even more, comically so, “Wow. Who told you that?”

“I must have read it somewhere,” He replied with a soft smirk as he squeezed your hand once more.

“Crosshair,” Tech’s annoyance at the continued interruptions was evident as he spoke, “You. Are. In. The. Way.”

He hissed, glaring up at his brother briefly but he stood, pulling away from you slightly. He looked back down at where you were still gazing up at him dreamily, “I have to go clean up, you got blood all over me, Sunshine.”

“Whoops,” You replied with a delirious giggle, “My bad.”

An actual chuckle left Crosshair at that as he pulled his hand from yours, “Don’t cause too much trouble for Tech while I’m gone.”

“You’ll come back?” You asked, concern suddenly written all over your face.

“In a flash,” He replied, and suddenly as though he were possessed he stooped, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. As he pulled away he didn’t know what had come over him, or when he had grown so soft. But he found he didn’t care as he noticed the content look that had replaced the worry on your face. He waited for your eyes to slip close once more before he turned away from you.

He instantly froze, bristling as he noticed the smug look on Tech’s face. He had clearly paused whatever he was doing to watch the interaction.

“If you mention this to anyone I will put a blaster bolt between your eyes,” Crosshair hissed venomously.

If anything, Tech only looked more smug at Crosshair’s response, “It is amusing that you think your affections for her are a secret,” He replied, “However, I do promise that I will not mention what I have observed here today to anyone else.”

“You better not,” Crosshair growled, unable to think of anything better to say before he once again shouldered past his brother as he headed off to change out of his gear and clean himself up. He chose to ignore the embarrassment that was burning through him at Tech’s words.

He had never gotten out of his gear and cleaned himself so quickly. He returned to your side in under half a standard hour, clean from the small sonic shower on board and a fresh pair of blacks covering his body.

Tech didn’t even look up as he approached, “She’s stable. All we can do right now is let her rest,” he explained as Crosshair returned to bunks.

Crosshair watched him silently as he stood. Tech gave him a pointed look that he did not like but chose to ignore, “I’ll be in the cockpit if she needs anything.”

He kneeled down beside your head once more, no longer caring what his brothers might think if they saw him with you. Your breathing had thankfully evened out and a bit of colour had returned to your face but you still looked unwell. Slowly and hesitantly he reached out his hand to brush some of the hair off your forehead.

His touch caused you to stir and your eyes popped open, finding him instantly. A small, though decidedly hazy, smile grew on your face, “You came back.”

He scoffed, “Of course I did.”

“I missed you,” You said casually, clearly having no idea what effect your words were having on him. He really was so truly kriffed.

He swallowed the emotions that were threatening to overwhelm him and settled for his usual snark instead, “You did? How touching.”

Much to his delight that got a chuckle out of you. Clearly, you weren’t so out of it that you couldn’t still enjoy his usual quips, “That’s why you’re my favourite Cross.”

He knew that with the drugs running through your system you wouldn’t remember much, if any of what you had said to him. But even if things between you went right back to the way they had been before he would remember them and the way you had made him feel forever.

“Get some rest,” he replied, his voice gruff with all of the unspoken feelings bubbling inside him.

“You’ll stay?” You asked, hand reaching out to grasp his wrist gently. Your eyes were wide, as you looked at him, the faintest line of concern creasing your brow.

He slid his hand down to interlock his fingers with your own. He watched as a small smile bloomed on your face at the motion, “Always,” he replied. You smiled up at him before closing your eyes, pulling his hand into your chest, clearly intent on keeping him close.

Always. He felt the word straight down to his very bones. The first step had been to admit it to himself, just how much you had crept under his skin and how much he wanted to keep you there. Always. Now maybe one day he’d be brave enough to tell you just how much he truly meant it.

#crosshair #tbb crosshair #crosshair x reader #crosshair x fem!reader #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch x fem!reader #tbb x reader #tbb x fem!reader

612 notes · View notes

candyfloss5000 · 2 months

Text

1K notes · View notes

bruh-myguy-what · 5 months

Text

Uncommon Reaction

Pairing: Tech x Fem!Reader (our lovely medic line) Warnings: female insults, gross man being a jerk to reader, violence, cursing, Mando'a cursing, fluff, not proof read I just needed to get it out as my mourning, nothing else I don't think Word Count: 4.5k Summary: Needing something from town, you're stuck with going with Tech, as everyone else is busy. You're not used to his response when a man decides to be rude to you.

Requests are open if you have anything you'd like to send in!

______________________________

"Echo," your mirthful voice reverberated around the walls of the Maruader as you laughed, "please?"

Laughing at your shameful display as you childishly hung off of the man's shoulder, playfully pouting at him with eyes as wide as a loth kitten. He chided you with an amusingly stern use of your name, dragging you alongside him as he walked down the gangplank, "I've already told you that I can't go with you into town. I'd love to but I have to help Hunter gather the rations and make sure we have enough for the next trip."

Whining dramatically, you pull at his hand, "I can wait! Really! I'll even help count so it'll go quicker!" Though you tried your most convincing grin, hoping your innocent tone would win him over as it had multiple times before, the Arc trooper shook his head.

"Sorry, sarad, no can do." His simple decline made you groan in frustration and drop his hand indignantly but he continued, "It's already getting late, anyway, the sun'll be gone before we even finish counting. Why don't you see if Tech will go with you?"

At the mention of the clever clone, your cheeks immediately warmed and you pulled away from Echo a bit in fear he might catch your sudden change. "I-I'm sure he's busy...he's always busy with some kinda tinkering." Your mumbled response was met with a raised brow from the cybernetic clone before you, his trained eye-catching the evergrowing red color staining your cheeks. Though the planet had a warmer temperature than some others the Batch had stopped on recently, Echo knew this couldn't have affected you so suddenly. You noticed his scrutinizing squint and quickly tried to move the subject elsewhere, "Maybe Wrecker or Cross could go with-"

With another shake of his head, a knowing grin starting to grow over his pale lips, arms crossing over his armored chest, Echo interrupted you, "Busy with rearranging the cargo hold so Tech doesn't get rid of their explosives again." Then he smirked at your obvious dilemma, "Besides, I'm sure that if you ask him, Tech'll set whatever he's doing aside. He seems to like you more than any of the rest of us."

Stammering at Echo's teasing, you fumbled with a response. He couldn't be serious, right? Tech was nice, of course, he was just as nice as any of the others- just in his own way.

The way that sent butterflies screaming into your stomach...

The way that made your hands tremble sometimes when he forgot about the social decency of personal space...

Tech was nice in the way that you adored and couldn't get enough of even when you'd been around him for hours upon hours, even when his brothers wanted to strangle him.

"Uh, w-well, I don't-" You started as Echo tapped his chin with his scomp-link, in thought when footsteps from the gangplank sounded.

Walking down a step at a time, Tech emerged, face ever plastered to his datapad. A miniscule glance was sent from Echo to you then back to the device in his hands. "I heard whining from the pilot's seat," he began, his precise tone sounding uninvested as it typically did when he was observing a situation unbiasedly.

Echo grinned over at Tech, "Just the clone we were looking for," he praised with a welcoming wave of his scomp. "Our dear medic here is in dire need of heading into town and no one has any time to go with her."

As soon as Echo mentioned you needing to go into town, Tech put away his datapad, eyes meeting yours. "It would seem I am currently unimpeded by any projects that require my immediate attention, for the time being, that is." He stepped further down the gangplank, standing in the unoccupied space before you and Echo. "An appropriate solution would be that I accompany you into the nearby town."

Echo slowly turned his head to meet your red face, smirking proudly at you, "It would be, wouldn't it?" He chuckled at your incredulous expression, then looked back at the taller clone. "Then make it quick the two of you, it's going to be getting dark soon and I'm sure the town isn't the best place to be, even for us." He rested his hand on Tech's shoulder, walking back up the gangplank to head inside the ship, momentarily turning around to salute you with a wink.

You stood there for a second in disbelief, trying to understand how the situation left you with just Tech....alone.

"I cannot believe him." You muttered to yourself under your breath, shaking your head.

"He is correct, actually" Tech interjected into your thoughts, causing you to start a bit, forgetting his proximity. Looking up to see him fixing his goggles on his face more comfortably, you noticed the way his brown eyes caught the sun, as light snuck behind the frames to speckle the golden hues decorating them. "The town we are heading to is known for its rather," he searched around the area for the appropriate word, "sordid, is perhaps the best term I can use for it. We would be safer grabbing what it is you need quickly, then returning at a proper pace." His explanation continued but you began to get lost in your own thoughts, admiring the man before you. It seemed to happen, sometimes, that you would find yourself marveling at how someone who was supposed to be a clone- "defective" or otherwise- was so uniquely designed. However, no matter how smart Tech was, he was so clueless of his beauty (unlike Hunter who was exhaustively aware of his looks). The way his freckles brushed over the thin bridge of his nose to paint his tanned cheeks. The way his honeyed eyes were just a few shades brighter than his brothers, the way the light lingered in them even after all was dark. He was oblivious to how handsome he looked when he raised that one eyebrow in challenge, or when one of his brothers said something entirely incorrect. He was just as strong, just as well adept in battle, as any of his brothers (other than Wrecker), but he had the added allure of his intelligence that made you fall that much quicker. Tech's straightforward behavior, the endearing seriousness, his misconception of certain social cues, and the way his heart was still as open as any of the others- more so, you could argue- just made cherishing him so much easier.

A gentle call of your name caught you off-guard and you shook your head to refocus. "Hmm? Yes?"

Tech's face had grown adorably perplexed as he searched yours inquisitively. "I had asked if you were ready to leave, though I was met with only your vacant expression. Are you alright?"

A burning crept up your neck as you blinked dumbly at the clone trooper, "Y-yep! I'm perfectly fine!" You winced at the crack in your voice, hoping that if he asked any further questions you could blame some of it on the slightly elevated temperature of the planet.

Tech seemed gracious, or oblivious, enough to move on from the situation and nodded at your reply. "Then I suppose we should leave," he gestured for you to go ahead of him, "after you, mesh'la."

Once in town, you had noticed quickly what Tech had meant about the town being a little less desirable. The people seemed to even shy away from one another from time to time, going about their own business and then skittering away.

Tech kept a close pace behind you, placing himself directly behind your shoulder, his impressive height becoming even more pronounced. People seemed content to avoid the two of you and you hadn't noticed any issues with the trip so far until you felt Tech press himself further into your back, the smooth front of his chest piece cramming into your shoulder blade. "Tech?"

You glanced up as you continued forward, noting how his eyes narrowed behind his goggles, analyzing something further into the crowd. If you hadn't been in what seemed like a rather precarious situation- based on his current manner- you would find his closeness thrilling and unusual, but by his squared shoulders, you knew he was locked onto something questionable. "Apologies for my proximity." He spoke in a low, curt tone, eyes never meeting yours.

"Is...everything alright?" You questioned, trying to look around the crowd of people to see whatever was bothering the trooper.

Tech hummed in response, the rumble of his chest shaking through his armor and into your shoulder. "Our safety is secured for the present moment. Though it would be wise for my presence to be as near to you as comfortably possible for the duration of our outing."

You hadn't been out by yourself very many times with just Tech, possibly a time a two, but any time you had been it was always causal and friendly places. You'd seen Echo, Wrecker, or Hunter get protective in the face of social danger when you'd gone out with them before and it seemed like an evident connection to make that Tech (or even Crosshair) would've as well even though it hadn't been something you'd actually thought about before. However, now, you couldn't stop the way your heart ached at Tech's rapid transition from relaxed to defensive, the strong line of his jaw the first thing you caught sight of whenever you glanced up to make sure he was still on the lookout.

"Alright," you rushed out, "I'll be quick then. Sorry for the hassle, I didn't expect there to be an actual problem." Any more guilt you had been about to express died when you felt a large hand on the other shoulder blade, the warmth spreading through your entire body.

"Your apology is unwarranted. You required something, it is only sensible that one of us accompany you for protection. Although you are a reputable member of the GAR whom I have seen manage precarious situations rather exceptionally, I am certain every one of us would prefer to maintain your safety as much as we are capable." Tech finally glanced down to give you the slightest hint of a smile, accompanied by a reassuring nod. "Please, continue."

"Th-Thanks," was all you could dumbly reply as you tore your eyes away from the clone to search around for any pop-up stand that had what you had dragged Tech out here to get. It was some form of balm that you had needed to add to your collection for healing cuts and scrapes that the GAR hadn't entirely said was a part of the standard order of supplies but it worked as a wonderful substitute for bacta. It didn't take much longer to find a stand that was selling medical salves and the like, though the warmth of Tech's steady touch- whether from his chest or his hand- distracted you desperately.

While shopping through the procured items laid out, you felt Tech's hand fall away from your shoulder and a voice that was unknown to you spoke. "Listen goggles," the gruff man spoke, "just walk away from the woman and nobody has to get hurt, alright?"

As you began to turn, you were met with Tech's broad back blocking you as his hand came behind him to tuck you closer. "I regret to inform you that I am incapable of doing so." His voice was as steady and casual as typical for Tech, if you'd not known any better you would've thought he'd been speaking to Hunter or one of the others.

Choking out a gurgled laugh, the man pulled out a blaster, clicking off what you recognized as the stun. You were hardly terrified, Tech was highly skilled, though faced with a blaster you were worried he might be injured. Tech wasn't the first to respond with violence, opting instead to de-escalate the situation with a straightforward and disarming method. "I don't think you heard me, prick. I don't think you want to die over a whore, do you?" The insult hit you, surprised by its accusation and you placed a steadying hand on the backpack Tech wore, to steal a glance of the situation. You felt the hand that was placed on your arm tighten its grip protectively at your movement.

Tech was caught off guard by the insult as well, inclining his head at the shorter man. "Pardon me?"

"The whore, you fool. I want to whore. Move away so I can have her and we can part ways without anyone getting harmed." The man motioned with his blaster for Tech to step aside, though he remained unmoving.

Tech adjusted his goggles with his free hand, "by my estimation, it would seem that the only fool in our current location would be you. I will not be moving, so in light of our impasse, how would you prefer to proceed? By the tremble of your blaster, I would venture that you are incapable of properly wielding the weapon, which is a dangerous decision in and of itself. Again, it would seem you are the fool." Tech took a step forward, calm assurance complimenting his candid tone.

"B-Back up, freak! I'll blast you without a second thought." The man snarled as he raised his blaster higher toward Tech's chest. As you noted what Tech said, he was right- as always- the man's hand shook prominently. Though the sight of a blaster pointed so blatantly at the trooper was unsettling, you trusted him.

"Proper blaster decorum is to hold higher on the handle, finger over the trigger, and placed securely at the target of the blaster bolt." Tech's nonchalant lesson to the man seemed to only set the situation more on edge, which was surprising to you. He wasn't de-escalating, he was...antagonizing. "Is it standard practice here that any chakaaryc is allowed to carry a blaster?"

"A-Any...what?" The man asked confounded by the word he didn't understand, using his other hand to stabilize the blaster now as Tech approached closer to him.

It was normal for the Batch to use their Mando'a around one another, though they didn't use it much around others outside the GAR and even you didn't understand the language so you never paid attention to the words. Though now you were silently cursing yourself for not studying it, wondering what it was that Tech said.

"Di'kutla," Tech's voice lowered to a tone you hadn't heard him use before, it sounded almost...dangerous, "It is a Mandalorian translation for a filthy low-life, such as yourself."

"Why you!" The man's finger began to push the blaster's trigger and you felt your heart drop, stomach-churning, until you blinked and nearly missed the effortlessly elegant way Tech disarmed the man of his blaster. Crying in pain as his hand was bent backward while Tech placed the rogue blaster in his belt after switching it off, the man spat curses at the trooper. "She's just a whore, man! What's your big deal?!"

At the man's insistence on your status, Tech furthered his grip, causing him to yell out, Tech’s stoic composure- in contrast- never faltering. "I believe I have heard quite enough from you, mir'sheb."

"But-" Interrupting the man's argument, Tech's fist connected directly to the criminal’s face in a surprising display of brutality, effectively silencing him- and bloodying his nose.

"I said enough."

Standing in absolute awe of the current events, you were speechless, and before you could muster anything to say you watched as Tech yanked the stumbling man toward you by the grip on his wrist. "Forgive my lack of decency, mesh'la, though regarding his offense, this man owes you an apology."

"Tech, I-" You began, only for Tech to twist the man's arm behind his back and press him forward a bit harsher to which the man stumbled onto his knees, causing Tech to bend down with him, muttering apologies at your feet.

"Are you pleased with his display of atonement, cyar'ika?" Tech's honeyed eyes rose to meet yours, his tall frame bending over the man on the ground, refusing to let him free until you were satisfied. At your nod, he released his hold.

The man scurried to his feet and scuttled away as quickly as he could, nursing his wrist. Confusion washed over you as you glanced at the trooper, dusting off his hands and shuffling things around on his belt to make room for the blaster he had acquired. Once satisfied with his work, Tech met your eyes once more, adjusting his goggles nonchalantly. "Have you found what it is that we came to find?"

Still stunned by Tech's uncommon display of brute force and his complete willingness to act as if it has been just a normal day of the week, you stood there silently holding up the salve. "Wonderful, then we should return quickly." He sent a look around the sky to notice that it was dark now, "I am sure-" and as if on cue, Tech's comm link made a sound. Echo's voice rushed out with a stern use of Tech's name as soon as he’d answered it.

"Where in the galaxy are you two? I said to be quick!" The clone complained on the other end of the comm. Motioning for you to join at his side, Tech explained that you were momentarily disrupted but were unharmed and returning shortly.

While he spoke with Echo, you stared stupidly at the salve in your hand, replaying Tech making an absolute fool of the criminal. You'd never seen him react in such a way and you could feel your cheeks burning at how attractive the response had been to witness. What could've caused such a change in his approach? Of course, the Batch was known to be unconventional, so maybe Tech just thought the only way to dissuade the man was to use brute strength, but it just seemed like something bothered him. Could it have been when the guy insulted you?

A call of your name brought you back to the present, where Tech was standing in front of you, his hand extended. "Take my hand, please, it is quite dark. I do not wish to lose you in the crowd, it would seem this town is worse than I had originally read about. I will make a note to update the Republic's records properly." His hand enveloped yours delicately, pulling you closer to his side to guide you through the mass.

The walk back to the Marauder was quiet, your mind reeling from what happened. You were no stranger to difficult scenarios such as that one, so it wasn't as if you were scared just baffled.

"Stars! Finally, you two are back." Echo huffed in frustration as you emerged from the treeline. "Come on, we gotta get out of here. We're wanted back on Kamino for some new mission. Everyone else is already prepped to leave."

Tech merely nodded, saying something about how he'd set up the ship to be ready for the journey, and departed with a casual 'see you inside' as he let go of your name.

"What's wrong with you?" The accusation behind Echo's voice elicited a glare from you, none of this would've been an issue had he not forced Tech to go with you. You wouldn't be standing here struggling to erase the image of Tech decking a criminal right in the face. Replaying the sound of his voice when he demanded his apology to you for his insults...

This was Echo's fault. For sure.

"Tech punched someone, Echo." You explained with narrowed eyes to which the pale clone laughed as if the joke you tried to tell him was the funniest thing he'd heard. "No, I'm serious. He dropped this guy. He pulled a blaster on us and Tech just...punched him in the face."

"That's weird. Tech's not usually the type to-"

"TRUST ME," you raised your voice, "I'M AWARE."

Echo started laughing again, "I told you that he had a soft spot for you, sarad." He motioned for you to follow as he began his ascent up the gangplank, and punched the closure button when you joined him.

Later into the night, while you lay awake in your bunk, you tossed and turned trying to quieten the memory from earlier though it was a futile effort. The thought was driving you crazy.

Why had Tech reacted that way? It was just too out of the ordinary for him. It seemed far more personal than he ever responded.

And Echo's comments about him having some sort of bias toward you weren't helping the racing of your heart.

So you crawled out of your bunk, making sure not to wake anyone up as you tip-toed up to the main hull where there were small sounds of tinkering echoing. Of course, he was still awake.

"Mesh'la," Tech commented as you walked in, surprising him. "You are supposed to be asleep, what are you doing awake?"

Flashing him a grin as you took up residency in the co-pilot seat across from him, you pulled your legs up close to your chest. "Much like yourself, Tech, I couldn't sleep."

Adjusting his goggles, Tech blinked a few times in consideration. "Well, are there any extenuating circumstances that are barring you from getting the rest you usually require? Such as Wrecker's snoring? Crosshair mumbling in his sleep? Echo has a bad habit of shifting a lot during the night, could it be that?"

Shaking your head at his list of options, you took a breath, "I, actually have a question."

A glance in his direction showed his brow raising in confusion. "A question for me?" Upon seeing your nod he prompted you to continue, setting his tools aside to give you his undivided attention.

"Earlier..." you began, nervously playing with the hem of your GAR-issued pajama shirt, "in the town." Tech's intent gaze spurred you to continue, though you were anxious about how he would take the question. He was always truthful, but would he find the question odd? Would he think it was a stupid question? "You reacted differently than normal." You pointed about, changing directions a little, instead of asking a question.

"I am obligated to point out that your statement is not a question, cyare. However, your assessment is correct. It is not my usual course of action to resort to physical altercations in such situations..." He responded evenly. "Though, this circumstance required a unique response from me." His added comment confused you even more.

"Why?" You inquired, eyes now meeting his.

Tilting his head to the side slightly, his brows furrowed as if he were the perplexed one now. "I thought it would be obvious." His simple response was mildly bothersome. Of course, it wasn't obvious! That's why you couldn't sleep!

"Tech, you have to remember, sometimes, some of us need you to explain what's going on up there in that exceptional mind of yours." You clarified as you tapped your temple, gesturing for him with a soft smile on your face.

It dawned on him then, that perhaps it probably wasn't obvious to you. Though he struggled to find how to put it into words. "I was required to respond irregularly because he had offended you. Pointing a blaster at me is less of an issue, one I am perfectly well adept at discouraging," Tech's voice was unchanging until he glanced at his hands and his tone dropped. "It wasn't until his unwarranted comments regarding you that I felt my common strategy of de-escalating was not suitable enough. Your virtue demanded more than my words to right the occurrence." His eyes were still downcast as he spoke, seeming...embarrassed?

"My virtue?" You repeated his term of use.

Nodding, the clone finally met your eyes, the emotion behind his brown hues causing the breath to catch in your lungs. "Yes. I will never allow someone to speak so disparagingly about you in my presence. You deserve far more from those who say they care for you."

The blue streaks of hyperspace highlighted the contours of his handsome face, highlighting his features. It seemed as if time slowed to a crawl between the two of you at his admission. Was it a declaration of love, no, but it still burned in your chest as if it had been. "You care for me, Tech?"

"Considerably so, yes." The speed and certainty of his response felt as if it knocked you against the seat, like your first trip into hyperspace, kicking you back. His honesty was staggering every time. "If I can be forthright, I find that I am more partial to you than even my brothers are. I have spoken with Hunter at length about why this may be. The solution we have come to at the very moment is," Then he paused for a moment, considering his words carefully, "that I have a romantic interest in you. The signs of psychical attraction I have are evident, or so I thought. I desire to be close to you as often as possible, and the ability to speak with you about things is a welcomed one that I look forward to regularly."

As you listened, the burning in your chest only worsened. Tech not only punched a man because he insulted you, but punched a man who insulted you because of how much he cares about you and your honor? And now he was telling you how much he'd cared for you? This had to be a dream.

"Forgive me if this is not the answer you were envisioning, however, that does not change the truth of the answer to your query." Tech finished with a resolute nod, though the emotion did not leave his eyes.

You sat there across from him for a while in silence, reflecting, assessing, and gathering, but once everything sorted itself into place in your mind you rose from your seat to stand before Tech. He'd always been so straightforward, so honest with you...he only deserved the same in return.

Your hands hesitantly reached out, testing the waters of his current mood. When he didn't pull away, you caressed his jaw on either side lovingly, tilting his chin up to meet your eyes. The astonishment in them betrayed his outwardly calm demeanor as you leaned down to graze your lips against his, a whispered 'thank you' tumbling from your lips before you kissed him.

As if your confusion and amazement had been transferred to him, Tech merely sat in his seat, numbly. However, as you began to pull away, his hand quickly reached out to rest around the back of your head to stop you from going too far. Brown eyes explored your face as if you were an illusion, "you captivate and baffle me," he breathed out in wonderment, pulling you back in for another kiss, "show me more, please."

Laughing under your breath at his request you lowered yourself into his lap gingerly, "I'd love to, but right now, I just want to kiss you a little more."

________________________________________

Mando'a translations just in case- chakaaryc - lowlife, rotten, di'kutla- useless/ worthless, mir'sheb- smartass

@stellarbit - this is for the both of us.

773 notes · View notes

jetii · 1 month

Text

On Impulse

Pairing: Tech x fem!Reader

Words: 10,703

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! friends to lovers, kind of enemies to lovers? but in a goofy silly way, Tech's autism rizz, fluff, arguing as a form of flirting, smut, thigh riding, unprotected sex, fingering, semi-public sex, naked female clothed male

Summary: You've made it your personal mission to convince Tech that letting loose and taking risks for the sake of fun can be a good thing. During your day off on Coruscant, your efforts are unexpectedly rewarded.

A/N: There's no excuse for this I just love writing feral Tech. Also wow! 400 followers! Hello! Thanks for being here.

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

Tech knows he can be a little... much.

It's not really his fault. The Kaminoans who designed him and his brothers didn't really think to account for things like social awareness, or tact, or "when not to talk." All they programmed him with was an insatiable thirst for information and a single-minded desire to be useful.

The others in the squad had been able to pick things up on the way, seeming to possess a natural sense for the sort of thing one says or does at any given time. Tech, though, just doesn't have that. He has a brain that's constantly running and processing data, and an all-consuming need to do something about it.

So he can't help it that his mouth tends to get away from him when he's excited. The information just comes pouring out.

His brothers call it a data dump.

The Kaminoans call it an unfortunate defect in his otherwise exceptional programming.

But you call it charming.

"And furthermore," Tech is ranting, following you as you walk through the halls of the Senate building, “the use of such a heavy gauge power coupling is inefficient and a waste of valuable resources which could be better spent in other areas. The new couplings are half the size, and can be manufactured on-planet instead of having to be shipped from across the galaxy."

"Not my fault if you were wrong, Tech," you toss over your shoulder at him, smirking as he splutters in offense.

"Wrong?!" he repeats, sounding aghast at the mere suggestion. "I don't think so."

You roll your eyes, but there's a fond smile on your lips. Tech is a genius, really, he is. But his ego is sometimes as big as his brain, and you love to wind him up a bit.

He gets so flustered and huffy and cute when you do, and you can't resist. He's just too adorable not to tease a little. So you keep walking, even though you've long ago lost track of where you're actually going.

"I mean, I can admit when I'm wrong," you go on, slowing your pace just a bit. "It's a sign of a healthy psyche."

Tech scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest, and you bite back a laugh. He's wearing his full armor, minus his helmet, and it only adds to the ridiculousness of the moment. The two of you are quite the duo, sticking out like a pair of sore thumbs among the throngs of politicians and Senators going about their daily business.

You'd thought this outing would be something fun, an opportunity to get Tech out of the Marauder for a bit. You know that he gets antsy, and he loves nothing more than a good lecture or an impromptu lesson.

Plus, it was your off day, and you wanted to spend some time with him, since you knew he was only planning to hole up in his bunk and work on fixing up some broken circuit board or another. Not the most thrilling way to spend an afternoon.

And you can't even count the number of times you've come back to the Marauder, only to find him elbow-deep in some project, surrounded by scrap parts and wires and tools and completely oblivious to the world.

That's fine, though, really. It's just who he is, and you know better than to interrupt, but you can't deny you like it better when his brain is occupied with you instead.

The way he lights up when he gets the chance to talk about whatever is on his mind is endearing, and you love listening to him speak. You'll take Tech the lecturer over Tech the hermit any day.

So, you'd come to the Senate to let him geek out. One of your friends was an assistant to a Senator, and you'd asked if you could give Tech a tour. It was more of a chance for Tech to give you a tour, actually, because you were clueless, and he knew exactly where to go and what to see. But he doesn't know that.

What had started out as your attempt at tricking Tech into a date has quickly turned into another argument, but that's nothing new between the two of you.

It's become your routine, something you've done since the first time you met. You and Tech bickering about this and that, teasing and mocking each other but with a light in your eyes and a smile on your faces. Sometimes it feels like it's the only way the two of you communicate.

You can't even remember now what the first fight had been about. But you know that he had said something blunt and off-hand, and you'd gotten offended and given him a piece of your mind. He'd argued back, and the two of you had gone back and forth until you had run out of steam.

It's what always happens.

But you had seen a glimmer of something in Tech's eyes that day, and when he'd started arguing back, there had been a spark there. It wasn't boredom, or apathy. It was excitement, passion, a fire in him that you had never seen in anyone else before.

He had liked it.

You had, too.

And that's when the real games had started.

It's not the same now. You've gotten used to each other, and you can tell when he's trying to rile you up. He does the same thing every time. He'll say something rude, or condescending, and you'll shoot him a dirty look and a sharp comment. Then, he'll say something even more rude and condescending, and then, finally, you'll lose your temper, and the two of you will bicker and banter until the both of you have worked through whatever is bothering you.

It's kind of like therapy.

Or foreplay.

Maybe a little of both.

And now, here the two of you are, doing it again. You're wandering the halls, not even paying attention to where you're going anymore. You're far too distracted by the way Tech's brow is furrowing in concentration as he thinks of how to prove himself right, and the way his nose is wrinkling in irritation at your constant teasing.

You're both enjoying this a little too much.

"I assure you, my psyche is perfectly healthy," Tech is saying as he follows behind you, and you grin at him over your shoulder.

"I don't know, Tech," you taunt. "I can't help but notice how much you love being right. That sounds like a classic case of an inflated ego to me."

He scoffs.

"My ego is perfectly sized, thank you," he tells you, his tone haughty. "It's not my fault that my intelligence is far superior to the vast majority of beings in the galaxy."

"Oh, and humble, too," you add, rolling your eyes. "My mistake."

He ignores your quip, still following you down the corridor, his steps slowing just a bit.

"Where are we going, anyway?" he asks, peering at you curiously. "This isn't the way back to the hangar."

You smirk, stopping in your tracks and turning to face him. Tech nearly runs into you, stopping short at the last moment, and the two of you stand only inches apart, your face turned up to his. He's almost a full foot taller than you, and the way he's staring down at you makes your heart beat a little faster. He's not smiling, not really, but you can see the amusement in his eyes.

"We're not going back to the hangar," you inform him, and his expression changes to one of confusion.

"Then where are we going?"

You don't answer. Instead, you grab him by the wrist, pulling him after you as you continue walking. "I have something else in mind."

He stumbles after you, tripping over his own feet in his hurry to keep up with your sudden change of pace.

"Where are we going?" he repeats, his tone slightly higher than usual. He sounds flustered, and you can't help the little laugh that slips past your lips.

"You'll see," is all you say.

He grumbles, but follows along nonetheless, allowing you to tug him after you.

"We don't have time for detours," he tries.

"We made a detour for power couplings, didn't we?" you counter. "What's the difference?"

"A power coupling is a necessary component of the Marauder's hyperdrive," he protests. "A 'detour' is merely a waste of time."

"But the ones we had were just fine," you argue, still pulling him along.

"Just fine is not good enough," he replies. "I will prove it to you. Once I have the new couplings installed, I will run a simulation, and you will see how much more efficiently the Marauder will perform. You will admit that I was correct."

You can't help but laugh at his self-assurance.

"If you say so," you tease.

"I do say so," he counters. "I am a man of science, and I always back up my claims with evidence. If I say something is fact, it is a fact."

You snicker again, and Tech glares down at you.

"You can be rather vexing," he says with a sigh of resignation.

"I try."

He rolls his eyes, but you catch the hint of a smile on his lips.

"I'm sure you do," he mutters, and you bite back a grin.

You love teasing Tech, but not just him. You like doing it to the others, too, especially when they least expect it. You have a reputation for being sweet and innocent and nice, but the truth is, you can be just as devious as the rest of them when you want to be.

You just choose your targets more carefully, and Tech is the perfect victim.

He's so serious, and so uptight, and so easy to get worked up. It's a challenge, keeping up with him and his constant rants and lectures, but you're nothing if not determined, and you have a lot of fun doing it.

But your favorite is the way Tech will get so frustrated and worked up, and then, once he's exhausted himself, and he knows that you're not going to change your mind, he'll start grumbling. And pouting.

And it's just the cutest thing in the world.

You don't mean to upset him, or anything, but the way he puffs up like an angry bird when you challenge him is just adorable, and you can't help yourself. You just can't stop.

And if the way he's looking at you is any indication, he can't stop, either.

"Oh, come on, Tech," you chuckle. "Lighten up a bit. Today is supposed to be fun. We're on Coruscant, there's nothing dangerous happening, and the weather is actually nice for a change. Just try and enjoy yourself a little."

"I am enjoying myself," he argues.

"By arguing with me?" you counter.

Tech looks down at you, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. He doesn't look as irritated anymore, and there's a twinkle in his eyes that tells you that he's having a good time. He's enjoying himself, despite his protests, and he knows that you're onto him.

"Yes. I enjoy our debates," he answers simply. He pauses, then adds, "Though I would hardly consider it a debate. It is a mere fact that the new couplings are better than the old ones."

You roll your eyes, and Tech's lips twitch at the gesture. There's a warmth that spreads through your chest when you see him like this, happy and relaxed. You like seeing him smile, and you like it even more when it's because of you.

"Sure, sure," you placate him. "Whatever you say, Tech."

"That is what I say," he confirms, and you can't help but laugh.

"Okay, well, whatever."

"I win, then?"

"Fine," you sigh, pretending to be put out. "You win."

He smiles, smug and self-satisfied. "Of course I do."

You snort, rolling your eyes again, and he just keeps grinning. He looks so proud of himself, and you can't help but feel a surge of affection for him. You like this side of Tech, the one that's playful and teasing and fun. It's a side that not many people get to see, and you can't help but feel lucky that you're the one he shows it to.

You like this, the two of you together, alone, no one around to hear your conversations or watch the way you look at each other. There's something intimate about it, something that makes your stomach flutter and your heart beat a little faster.

It's different, when it's just the two of you. The arguments and banter are still there, but there's something else, too, something warm and gentle and special. You want to drag this moment out as long as possible, and you intend to.

"So, where are we going, then?" he asks, and you bite your lip, trying to hide your smirk.

"Nowhere," you say, and he gives you a puzzled look. "Or, well, nowhere interesting."

"Then why did we take the detour?" he asks, and you can hear the curiosity in his voice. He's not annoyed or angry or irritated. He's genuinely interested in what you're doing, and why. It makes you smile.

"Because, Tech," you explain, "sometimes, it's the journey that's important, not the destination."

He cocks his head to the side, considering your words.

"But if the destination is not important, then why bother going at all?" he asks. "What is the point of the journey, if not the destination?"

You can't help but laugh again. He's so literal sometimes. You've tried explaining the concept of "just because" to him, but it's a hard concept for him to grasp. There is no rhyme or reason to some things, no logic or scientific explanation. Some things just are. They're fun, or beautiful, or special. And sometimes, that's reason enough to do them.

You tell him as much, and Tech rolls his eyes. He doesn't believe you. He can't understand why you'd do something for no reason at all. But you know that he's listening. He's still following along with you, and there's no indication that he wants to leave.

"So you just wanted to wander around the Senate?" he asks, and you nod. "Why?"

"I don't know," you admit. "I just wanted to. And I thought it might be nice to do something together. You and me."

He looks at you for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face. There's a softness to his features, and his eyes are warm behind his goggles. It's a look that you've only ever seen him give you.

Sometimes when Tech looks at you, you feel like a bug under a microscope, like he's dissecting and cataloguing your every move. It's unnerving, and it makes your stomach twist with anxiety. But sometimes, like right now, he looks at you like he's seeing something new and wonderful, like you're a mystery he's trying to solve.

You don't mind it so much when he looks at you like that.

"It is...nice," he admits after a moment, his voice quiet. "Being together."

He says the words carefully, almost hesitantly, and you can see a slight flush creeping up his cheeks underneath his goggles.

You smile at him.

"It is, isn't it?"

You're still holding onto his wrist, and you slide your hand down to meet his, your fingers intertwining with his own. Tech doesn't pull away, and he doesn't seem surprised, or uncomfortable. He just lets it happen, and a soft, shy smile appears on his lips, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand.

"I—"

Whatever Tech was about to say is cut off by a shout from behind him. Both of you jump, and Tech whips around to face the source of the sound. He steps in front of you, instinctively shielding you with his body, his free hand going to the blaster on his hip. You can feel his muscles tensing, and his grip on your hand tightens.

You peer over his shoulder and see a Corrie Guard, one of Fox's men, coming down the hall toward the two of you. Your blood runs cold.

"Hey!" he shouts. "This is a restricted area."

Tech glances at you over his shoulder. "It is?"

"Oops," you mutter back. "Guess we better get out of here."

The two of you turn and bolt down the hall. You can hear the guard's boots pounding behind you, and Tech's fingers are still interlaced with yours. Laughter is bubbling up inside of you, a mix of adrenaline and nervous energy. Tech lets out an amused huff, and the two of you turn the corner.

You nearly slam into another group of troopers, and Tech pulls you out of the way, keeping a firm grip on your hand. You barrel past the guards, who shout in alarm as they see the first guard chasing the two of you.

It's chaos, and the laughter spills out of you as Tech drags you through the maze of halls and corridors. The sound of your feet and the guards' boots echoes off the walls, and Tech is pulling you along behind him, not letting go. You can see the smile on his face, even as he turns and yells at you.

"Why are they chasing us?!"

"No idea!" you shout back, laughing.

"We should not be doing this!"

"Too late!"

The two of you sprint through the building, twisting and turning down hallways, the sound of the guards' footsteps following close behind.

"Tech! Over here!"

There's a door at the end of the hall, and it's unguarded. The two of you make a beeline for it, and you're both panting by the time you reach it. Tech slams his hand against the access panel, and the door slides open. He shoves you inside, and you have to duck under his arm before he follows close behind.

"Where are we?!" he asks, looking around.

You shrug, breathless, and he looks at you incredulously.

"We're in a closet," he says, and you can't help but giggle.

The room is dark, empty, and quiet. It’s also extremely cramped, and there's barely enough space for the two of you. The closet is clearly built for a maintenance droid, and the shelves are lined with cleaning supplies.

It's a tight fit, and you're pressed close together, chests heaving as you try to catch your breath. Tech is forced to bend down toward you to avoid hitting his head on the shelves above you, and his nose is practically touching yours.

"This is not an ideal hiding place," he complains. “It's not defensible. If they find us here, we'll be trapped."

"I know." You sigh, looking up at him. "I'm not an idiot."

"But you are the one who pulled me in here," he points out.

"Well, we had to get out of sight, didn't we?" you argue. "They were right behind us."

He shakes his head, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You are unbelievable."

"I'll take that as a compliment," you say, and you can hear his amused huff.

"You would," he murmurs, his tone dry.

"What are they gonna do?" you ask, looking up at him with a smirk. "Arrest us? For taking a shortcut?"

"I don't know why you're being so difficult about this," he grumbles. “We—mmph!”

Your free hand clasps over his mouth, silencing him. Tech's eyes widen behind his goggles, and he blinks at you in surprise. His other hand is still holding yours, and the two of you are standing so close together that you can feel the warmth of his body through his armor.

"Quiet," you hiss, and he gives you a look that is part exasperation, part amusement.

You keep your hand over his mouth, and the two of you stand there in the dark, the only sounds the hum of the ventilation system and the muffled footsteps of the guards outside. Your heart beats wildly in your chest as you stay as still as you can, and the feeling of Tech's lips beneath your palm is sending tingles down your spine.

You can feel his breath, warm and uneven, and you're suddenly hyper-aware of every inch of him that's touching you. Your fingers drag along the curve of his jaw, catching on the stubble there, and he shivers. It's barely noticeable, but you feel it, and you can't help the flush that creeps up your neck as you pull your hand away.

Tech's eyes are still wide, and his lips are parted, but he stays silent. He straightens, shifting a bit in the tight space, and you can feel his chest brush against yours. You can smell the leather of his armor, and the faint scent of grease and soap that lingers on his skin.

He's so close.

His leg is wedged between yours, and his body is radiating warmth. You're practically plastered to him, and every part of him that's touching you feels like it's burning. The hand that's holding yours is trembling, just a bit, and the closeness of the space, the heat, and the adrenaline from the chase are making your head spin. And you can't seem to stop staring at his mouth.

The voices in the hallway grow louder, and the two of you tense as you listen. They're right outside the door, and you suck in a sharp breath.

"Maybe they went the other way," someone is saying.

"They couldn't have gone far," another voice replies.

Tech's free hand comes up to rest on the shelf next to your head, bracing himself as he looms over you. His eyes are fixed on the door, and his brow is furrowed, a small frown on his face. You know he's probably running through a million different scenarios in his head, calculating the odds of each one, weighing the options and possible outcomes.

You know he's trying to figure out a way to get the two of you out of this, a plan, an escape route, something. Meanwhile, all you can seem to think about is how soft his lips look, and the way they had felt, warm and gentle against your hand.

"Let's just radio Fox and let him deal with it," a guard says. "I don't get paid enough to run around the Senate."

"We don't get paid at all," the other retorts.

"Exactly."

Tech adjusts his stance again, trying to get a better angle on the door. The motion presses his thigh harder between your legs, directly against your center. The touch sends a shock of arousal through you, and you have to bite your lip to keep from gasping aloud, praying he doesn't notice.

Of course, he does.

Tech snaps his head to look down at you, his eyes locking with yours, and you can see the surprise written all over his face. His lips part slightly, and his gaze flickers down to where your bodies are connected, then back up to your face.

You can see the moment realization dawns on him, and the way his pupils dilate behind his goggles is unmistakable.

"We'll search this side," someone is saying.

"They've gotta be around here somewhere."

You can barely hear them over the sound of your pulse pounding in your ears. You swallow thickly, and Tech's eyes dart to your throat, his lips parting a bit more. He looks a bit dazed, like he can't believe what just happened. Or maybe he can't believe the effect it's had on him.

You're having a hard time believing it yourself.

Tech is never one to be lost for words, or speechless, but now, he doesn't say a thing. His eyes are fixed on yours, and he's so close to you that you can see the flecks of gold in his eyes. He looks like he's about to say something, but then thinks better of it, his lips pressing together.

"Do you think they went upstairs?"

"Nah, it's too risky. They're probably still on this level."

Tech lets out a shaky sigh, his hand flexing against the shelf. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and his eyes flutter closed before he takes a deep breath, and then his leg is moving up against you again, and this time, it's deliberate.

A small, choked gasp slips past your lips, your hand squeezing his, and Tech's eyes fly open.

You know you should say something, or do something, but you can't seem to form words, or even a coherent thought, really. All you can focus on is the way his leg is rubbing against you, sending sparks of pleasure through your entire body with every minuscule twitch.

Tech's breath hitches, and his grip on the shelf tightens. He's watching your reaction closely, his eyes roaming over your face. He's testing you, you realize, seeing what you'll do, how you'll react.

You don't move, and the pressure against your core increases, just a little, but it's enough. A whimper escapes you, and Tech's nostrils flare. You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, and you're pretty sure you're the color of a sun-ripe pomfruit.

"Tech," you whisper, your voice coming out husky and breathless.

He doesn't say a word, his eyes boring into yours, his leg still moving, ever so slightly, against you. The guards are arguing now, but neither of you are paying attention. There's nothing but the two of you and this tiny, dark closet, and the friction that's building between you.

"Tech," you breathe again, a little louder this time.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips again, and his eyes flutter shut as he lets out a shaky breath. He's enjoying this, you realize. He's getting off on it. And the thought makes a fresh wave of arousal rush through you.

Tech is not usually an impulsive person. He's meticulous and precise and methodical. Everything he does is calculated, planned. He's not spontaneous, and he doesn't do things without thinking them through first. But right now, he's acting on instinct, and he doesn't seem to care about the consequences.

And the thought is making you feel things that are definitely not appropriate for this particular situation.

Another insistent brush against your core, and you're done for.

"Fuck," you whimper, your hips rolling forward into the contact. Your free hand shoots out and grabs his shoulder, giving you leverage as you press yourself harder against his thigh.

Tech makes a strangled sound, somewhere between a moan and a whimper, and his fingers curl harder around the edge of the shelf above you. The metal groans and bends under his grip.

The two of you are lost in a haze of pleasure and desire, your bodies moving together, desperately seeking more friction, more pressure, more contact. Tech is panting now, his breath coming in harsh, uneven gasps, and the sound is like music to your ears. He's always so in control, so put-together, but now, he's completely undone.

You can't stop staring at him, drinking in the sight of him, and his eyes are locked on yours, too. You're close, so close, and Tech must be able to tell because he's grinding his leg against you faster. The hand that was holding yours has moved to your hip, and he's pulling you closer, tighter, helping you grind against him.

His goggles are fogging up, and he's got that look on his face, the one he always gets when he's working on something. But this time, it's not the Marauder's circuitry or a busted datapad, it's you, and the realization makes your blood burn hot.

The voices outside the door are still going, but they're faint and distant, moving farther away, the words nothing but a meaningless buzz in the back of your mind. All that matters right now is the way Tech's thigh is rubbing against you, and the heat pooling in your core.

"Tech—"

Your words are cut off by a whimper, his name coming out like a plea, and you can't help the way your hips are jerking, seeking more contact. Your fingers are digging into his shoulder, and he's practically shaking, his breaths coming out in ragged gasps.

"I can't—" he gasps. "I can't think like this."

"Don't," you choke out, your voice trembling. "Don't think. Just...just..."

You're not even sure what you're asking him for, but you don't need to say anything else. He knows.

The pressure against your center increases, his leg rubbing harder, faster, and you can't hold back anymore. Your climax washes over you like a tidal wave, and your knees nearly give out, only Tech's firm grip on your hip holding you upright.

You barely make a sound before he's crushing his lips against yours, swallowing your moans and whimpers, his own muffled grunts echoing in your ears.

You cling to him, riding out the aftershocks of your release, and his mouth is hot and insistent against yours, his tongue stroking against yours. He's warm and soft and sweet, and he tastes like caf and something else that is distinctly Tech. His kisses are hungry, and his hands are roaming, and you're not sure if you're dreaming or if this is actually happening.

Tech kissing you. Tech, who has barely even touched you before today, who has avoided any and all physical contact with you since the moment you met, who has never, ever, shown any kind of interest in you, is kissing you, his hands and mouth and tongue setting your nerves on fire.

And all because of an impulsive idea, an accident.

You should stop. You know you should stop, but you can't bring yourself to.

"Tech—" you breathe, and his mouth moves to your jaw, kissing and licking and biting at the sensitive skin there. You're practically melting under his touch, your fingers carding through his hair, tugging gently. "Tech, the guards—"

"I know.”

He sounds just as wrecked as you do, his voice raw and husky, and you can't believe this is happening.

"We—"

Your words are cut off by his mouth again, and you're panting and writhing against him. His hands are on your ass, and he lifts you, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist. The shelves shake and rattle as he presses you against the wall, and the new position allows him to grind his codpiece against your heat, the feeling making you both groan into each other's mouths.

You've never wanted anything more than you want him right now, and the desperation in his kisses is telling you that he feels the same way.

"Tech," you whimper.

"I know," he breathes, his lips moving against yours.

The guards' voices are fading, growing quieter and more distant, but neither of you notice. You're both too lost in each other, in the feeling of finally, finally, giving in to the tension that's been building between you for weeks, months even.

"Tech—"

"I know," he says again, kissing you harder, deeper.

The guards' voices are gone, now, and the only sounds are the hum of the ventilation system, the creak of the shelves, and the wet, desperate noises of the two of you devouring each other.

"We have to—we can't—" you manage, and he pulls back, his mouth moving to your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses across your skin.

"I know," Tech breathes, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down your spine. "We can't. This is—"

His hips buck, and he presses himself harder against you, making you both moan.

"This is dangerous," he finishes, his mouth moving lower, to the sensitive spot just below your ear.

"It's wrong," you gasp, but your fingers are tangling in his hair, and you're tilting your head to give him better access. "We can't let anyone find out about this."

"No," he says, his teeth nipping at your throat. "No one can know. If the others found out, they'd never let us hear the end of it."

You shudder, and his hands are everywhere, roaming, grabbing, groping, and his lips are tracing patterns across your skin. You're not sure if he's trying to prove a point or not, but you can't stop the little gasps and moans that are falling from your mouth.

"What—what are we gonna tell them?" you ask, your voice breathless and shaky.

"I don't know," he groans, his hands sliding down to the backs of your thighs, squeezing hard. "I can't think."

You laugh, the sound coming out as a desperate, breathless thing. "Me either."

His mouth is on yours again, and he kisses you fiercely, hungrily, like he can't get enough. Your hands are in his hair, tugging and pulling and holding him to you, and his hips are bucking against yours, grinding his codpiece against you. It's not enough, and you need more, but you can't take it. You're too wound up, and the friction is delicious torture.

You grab his face in both hands, forcing him to look at you. His eyes are wild, his pupils blown wide, and he looks like he's going to come apart at the seams.

"Tech," you gasp. "Tech, please."

"Yes?" he asks, his voice rough and strained.

"I want you," you admit. "I want this. I want you, right now."

He groans, his fingers digging into your hips, and his forehead drops to yours.

"I want this, too," he breathes, his voice barely a whisper.

You're clinging to him, and his mouth is on yours, and it's all a blur, a mess of tongues and teeth and moans. You're clawing at his armor, and he's tugging at your clothes, and there's barely any space left between the two of you. It's a frenzy, a frenetic energy, and you're both chasing the same thing, the same end goal.

Tech's fingers slip beneath the waistband of your pants, and he tugs, his movements jerky and uncoordinated. His hand is fumbling, clumsy, and you know he's not used to this. He's not used to the intimacy, or the desperation, or the lack of control. He's not used to being this wound up, and it's showing.

It's cute.

He's cute.

He's so fucking cute, and you have no idea what you're going to do with him.

You don't know where it comes from, or who started it, but suddenly, you're both laughing, a mixture of nerves and excitement and relief. You're smiling, and he's smiling, and you're just so happy, and so overwhelmed, and you're not sure if you've ever been this happy before.

Tech gives up on the clasp, and instead, he tugs off his glove with his teeth and shoves his hand down the front of your pants, his bare skin hot against your flesh. His fingers slide between your folds, and the moment they meet the wetness there, you're both moaning.

You can feel his fingers stroking you, rubbing at your clit, and your hips jerk, bucking against him.

"You feel incredible," he murmurs, and the sound of his voice, all breathless and awestruck, sends a shiver down your spine.

"You—ah, fuck," you gasp, unable to continue as his fingers swirl over your sensitive bundle of nerves.

He smirks, and he looks so goddamn smug, so satisfied, and you're pretty sure you've never been more turned on in your life.

"Tech," you whine, and he chuckles, a low, deep sound that sends a tremor through your body.

"Is this good?" he asks, his voice teasing, and you can't help but giggle.

"You know it is," you manage, and he grins.

"I do," he says. "I just wanted to hear you say it."

He's still smirking, and you roll your eyes, even as he slips a finger inside of you. You're panting, and your hands are scrabbling at his chest plate, trying to find purchase. He's got you pinned, and you're practically hanging from him, your thighs locked around his waist.

"Tech," you gasp, and his hand is working, pumping in and out of you.

"I can't believe how wet you are," he mutters. "I've barely even touched you."

"I'm not usually like this," you argue. "It's—mm, fuck—it's just you."

He moans, his forehead dropping against yours. "You have no idea what that does to me."

"Show me," you reply, and his grip on your hip tightens, his fingers flexing against your skin.

"I will," he promises. "I will."

You can feel his breath on your face, hot and uneven, and his mouth is so close, his lips brushing against yours.

"Just—fuck, Tech, just fuck me," you plead. "Please."

He lets out a ragged groan as he pulls his hand away, and you nearly sob at the loss. You can feel him fumbling with his belt, his other hand holding you up, and he's cursing, his fingers shaking.

"Why—why are these damn things so—ugh!"

He finally manages to undo his belt, and it hits the floor with a thud, the ridiculous amount of pouches and gadgets clattering to the ground. The sound makes you laugh, and he shoots you a glare.

"Stop that," he chides. "This is a serious matter."

"I'm sorry," you gasp, barely able to contain your mirth. "It's just—the sound!"

He rolls his eyes, but his lips are twitching, and his fingers are back on his codpiece, fumbling with the clasps.

"I will never understand why you need so much equipment," you tease, and he scoffs.

"The amount of equipment I carry has nothing to do with my ability to—"

"Just take it off, Tech," you groan. "I'm dying here."

He glares at you, but the effect is ruined by the flush that's creeping up his neck. You can't help but smile at the sight.

"I'm trying," he huffs, "but I can't do anything when you're distracting me."

"Sorry," you apologize, biting your lip.

Tech gives you a look, but his attention is already back on his codpiece, and his fingers are flying over the clasps. He's got a look of intense concentration on his face, and he's practically vibrating with impatience. You undo the buttons on your shirt, tugging it down and exposing your chest, and Tech's gaze flickers over to you, his lips parting as his eyes travel down your body.

"That is not helping," he mutters, and you laugh, leaning back and bracing yourself against the shelves.

"Maybe if you had less equipment, it would be easier to get out of it," you tease, and he lets out an irritated huff.

"If I had less equipment, I wouldn't be able to do half the things I do."

"True," you concede, a grin on your face. "And then I wouldn't be nearly as interested in you."

He looks up at you, his eyes wide, and the corner of his mouth turns up in a half-smile.

"Are you trying to tell me something?" he asks, his voice soft and teasing.

"Maybe," you say, biting your lip.

He doesn't say anything, just stares at you, and his expression is so earnest and sincere that it makes your heart flutter. He closes his eyes and shakes his head, letting out a huff of laughter.

"You are," he says, his voice quiet. "You're telling me that you're interested in me."

"Well, duh," you laugh. "Why else would I have dragged you along today?"

He doesn't say anything, but you can see the flush on his cheeks darken.

"You're such a dork," you tease.

"And you are the most infuriating, confusing, aggravating, and fascinating person I've ever met," he replies as his eyes open again, his gaze locking with yours.

"That's one hell of a compliment."

"It's a fact."

You're not sure what to make of the sincerity in his tone. You're not sure what to make of any of this. It's not exactly what you'd planned, but you can't help the thrill that's running through you.

"I have no idea what I'm going to do with you," Tech says, and the fondness in his voice makes your heart swell.

He finally gets his codpiece undone, and it falls to the floor with a clang. You can't help but glance down at his groin, and you see his erection straining against his blacks.

"I have a few ideas," you murmur, and he lets out a strangled laugh.

"So do I."

Tech sets you down on the floor, and your legs are shaky, but he keeps you steady, his hands on your hips. His hands hook into the waistband of your pants, and you can feel his knuckles brushing against your skin as he tugs them down. It’s an agonizingly slow process, and the anticipation is making your blood pound in your veins.

"Force," he hisses as your underwear sticks to your skin, the fabric clinging to your slick folds.

"You did this to me," you say, your voice trembling. "It's your fault."

"I'm willing to take the blame," he replies, his eyes locked on your cunt.

He pulls your pants down, and you step out of them, your shirt still hanging open. You're bare before him, and he's still fully dressed, the plastoid armor covering almost every inch of his skin. You're about to ask him to take something else off when his hands are on you again, gripping your ass and lifting you up.

You let out a startled yelp as he pins you against the wall, his hands spreading your thighs and holding them apart. You can feel the hard line of his cock pressing against you, separated only by the thin fabric of his blacks, and you can't stop the moan that spills from your lips.

"I want you so much," he breathes, his hips thrusting, the friction making you cry out. "I want this, so much, and it's—"

"Tech," you gasp. "Don't stop."

"I want to take my time," he says. "I want to do this properly. I want to do this right, but I can't, not right now."

"Tech," you plead. "It's okay."

He lets out a frustrated groan, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass.

"This isn't—we shouldn't—"

"Tech," you gasp. "It's okay."

You grab his face, forcing him to look at you, and his eyes are wild, frantic.

"We can take our time later," you whisper. "We can take all the time in the world, but right now, I need you, okay? I need you, and we don't have time."

He shudders, and his cock twitches against your heat, making you moan.

"We can take this slow, later," you promise, and his eyes search yours, looking for any hint of uncertainty. He must not find any, because he nods, and the tension drains from his body.

"Okay," he says, his voice shaky. "Okay."

His hips rock, and you whimper as his clothed erection slides between your folds, the friction making you tremble. You're practically drenched, and you can feel the slickness dripping down your thighs, soaking the front of his blacks. He's not doing any better, his cock throbbing and straining against the fabric.

"Fuck," he hisses.

"Yes, that," you groan.

“You’re impossible," he growls, his hand moving to pull down his blacks. His cock springs free, and the sight of it, thick and heavy and dripping, makes your mouth water.

"And you're taking too long," you shoot back, your fingers curling around his length.

He's hard and silky soft, and his skin is feverishly hot, and the feeling of him, so hard and desperate, makes you moan. You drag your fingers along his shaft, tracing the vein, and his hips buck. He's panting, his eyes fixed on your hand as you pump his cock, and you can feel his muscles twitching and trembling.

"I'm not going to last," he gasps.

"Good," you reply, guiding his cock toward your entrance. "I don't want you to."

You can feel the head of his cock brushing against your slit, and you both moan. He's leaking, and his pre-cum is mixing with your arousal, slicking him up and easing the way. You can feel him sliding through your folds, teasing you, and it's driving you wild.

He pushes forward, his hips jerking, and you both moan as the head of his cock slips inside. You’re about to tell him to keep going when he slams into you, his entire length sheathing itself in your cunt in one swift thrust.

The cry that falls from your lips is muffled by Tech’s mouth as he captures yours, swallowing the sound. He's so big, and the sudden intrusion is almost painful, but the pleasure is overwhelming, and you cling to him, fingers scrambling for purchase on his shoulders.

His hands are bruising your thighs, and his hips are stuttering, the rhythm uneven and sloppy. There’s not much room to move, but he manages, thrusting shallowly, grinding his hips against yours.

"I'm sorry," he pants, his words slurring. "I'm not—fuck, I can't—"

"It's fine," you gasp. "It's fine, just—ah, Tech!"

Your back arches as he hits that spot inside of you, and he groans, his forehead dropping against yours. His goggles are pressing against your face, and you can feel the cold metal against your heated skin.

"You feel amazing," he pants, his hips rolling.

"You—you're not bad yourself," you gasp, and he laughs, a low, husky sound.

"Not bad? That's the best you can do?"

"You're ruining the moment," you groan, and he scoffs.

"Apologies," he says, his tone mocking. "What can I do to make it up to you?"

You roll your hips, and Tech grunts, his grip on your thighs tightening.

"You can start by fucking me properly," you breathe.

"As you wish."

His thrusts pick up speed, his hands moving to grip your ass, lifting you up and down, helping you bounce on his cock. The shelf behind you rattles, the items stacked on it shifting and wobbling, and Tech lets out a breathless huff of laughter.

"You're—Force, you're a hazard," he gasps, and you laugh, the sound morphing into a moan as he grinds against you.

"I've always wanted to say this," you pant, your nails scraping across his scalp, "shut the hell up and fuck me, Tech."

He growls, his pace picking up, and the angle of his thrusts changes, and suddenly, he's hitting that spot inside you again. Your orgasm is building, and you're teetering on the edge, your body thrumming with pleasure.

Tech is panting, his breaths coming out in ragged gasps, and his forehead is resting against yours, his lips brushing against your skin.

"Touch yourself,” he orders, his voice rough and hoarse. "I want to feel you come."

You comply, your hand slipping between your bodies, your fingers finding your clit. Your eyes flutter shut as the first jolt of pleasure hits you, and Tech lets out a choked groan.

"Look at me," he pleads, and you open your eyes, gazing up at him.

He looks utterly wrecked, his cheeks flushed, his mouth hanging open, his brow furrowed in concentration. He's gorgeous, and you can't believe this is actually happening.

Tech is fucking you, in a closet, while a bunch of Corries are patrolling the halls outside. It's the craziest, most insane, and most arousing thing that has ever happened to you. There's no doubt in your mind that you're going to be sore for a week, but it's totally worth it.

"You're so beautiful," he pants, his words slurring together. "You're so perfect, so tight, and Force, the sounds you're making—"

He cuts himself off with a groan as he drives into you, and you cry out, the pleasure building. He's babbling now, and it's not even coherent, just a stream of nonsense and curse words and half-formed sentences. He's saying something about how good you feel, and how much he's wanted this, and how he never thought he'd have this chance, and it's all a jumbled mess, but it's the sweetest thing you've ever heard.

His rhythm is erratic, his hips jerking, and his face is twisted with desperation and need. He's getting close, you can tell, and you're right there with him, teetering on the edge.

"Tech," you hiss, your hand speeding up, your fingers rubbing furiously at your clit. "Oh, fuck, Tech—"

He slams into you, the tip of his cock hitting that spot deep inside, and you shatter. You come hard, clenching around his cock, and you barely have time to clap a hand over your mouth before your orgasm crashes over you. You're biting down on your palm, your teeth leaving deep indents, and the sound that escapes your lips is muffled and raw.

"Oh," Tech gasps, his eyes fluttering closed. "You're going to make me—"

He doesn't get a chance to finish his sentence. The tension inside of him snaps, and he thrusts into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt and grinding against you, forcing you to take every last inch of him. His cock twitches, and his whole body goes rigid as his orgasm hits him.

He doesn't make a sound as he comes, his lips parting and his mouth opening in a silent cry. His hips jerk, his movements stuttering and uneven, and you feel the bloom of warmth as he fills you, his release spilling out of you, dripping down his cock.

Finally, he slumps forward, his head dropping to rest on your shoulder. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him close, and he lets out a low, satisfied hum.

You can't stop the stupid grin that spreads across your face.

Tech is nuzzling at your neck, and you can feel him smiling, too, his lips pressed against your skin.

You're not sure how long the two of you stay like that, wrapped in each other's arms, breathing hard and basking in the afterglow. It feels like hours, but it's probably only a few minutes.

Tech pulls back, and you look up at him. He's gazing down at you, his expression soft and content. His goggles are crooked, and his hair is mussed, and his lips are swollen and red. You reach up, smoothing his hair down and straightening his goggles.

"Well," he starts, his tone dry despite his ragged breathing, "this has been a most enlightening day."

You burst out laughing, and he smirks, his nose bumping against yours.

"Nothing like a bit of field research to broaden the horizons," you tease.

"Indeed," he chuckles, his hand cupping your cheek.

You smile at him, and he smiles back, and the moment is so tender, so sweet, and you can't help but kiss him again. It's slow and lazy, and he sighs against your lips, his mouth warm and inviting. You could kiss him forever, and never get tired of it.

Finally, he pulls away, and you reluctantly let him go.

"I must admit," he says, his tone light, "that was far more satisfying than I'd imagined."

"Oh, you imagined it, did you?" you ask, and he smirks, a faint flush creeping across his cheeks.

"Perhaps once or twice," he confesses.

"Just once or twice?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Perhaps more," he amends, and the admission sends a thrill through you. “Though I had not anticipated anything quite so vigorous."

"I didn't know you had it in you," you tease. "I never would have guessed that you were such a deviant."

"Evidently you bring out a certain side of me," he replies. "One that I had not been aware of until today."

"Well, I'm happy to explore more sides of you, if you'd like," you murmur, and Tech hums.

"I would enjoy that.”

His lips brush against yours, and the kiss is soft and sweet, and your heart swells.

"But," he says, breaking the kiss and looking down at the floor.

You follow his gaze, and you both wince. Your pants are lying in a pile on the floor, along with your shirt, and Tech's codpiece and gloves. There are a few pieces of cleaning supplies strewn about, and your boots are on opposite ends of the closet. Tech's belt is laying on the ground, his pouches spilling out and his blasters resting haphazardly on the floor.

"We need to clean this up," he mutters.

"Yeah," you agree.

Neither of you move. You stay where you are, clinging to each other, and savoring the moment. It's not going to last forever, and you both know it.

Once the two of you step out of this closet, things will change. Everything will change. But you can't find it in yourself to regret anything. Not the teasing, or the flirting, or the banter, or the argument, or the frantic, desperate sex. None of it.

And from the way Tech is looking at you, with a mixture of tenderness and awe and fondness, you know that he doesn't, either.

Eventually, though, Tech is the one to pull away. You both groan as he slides out of you, and the sound echoes through the tiny room. He sets you down gently, and your legs shake as you try to find your footing.

"Are you alright?" he asks, his eyes roaming over you, concern written all over his face.

"Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little…" you trail off as you glance down at yourself, taking in the sight of your bare thighs and the streaks of white that are slowly dribbling down them. "Uh, sticky."

"Yes," he agrees, his eyes glued to the mess between your legs. You watch his tongue flick out to lick his lips, and the hunger in his gaze is enough to make you blush.

"What?" you ask, and he blinks, seeming to snap out of his trance.

He flushes and looks away. "Nothing," he mutters, pulling his blacks up over his cock.

"Tech, come on," you say, a grin tugging at the corner of your mouth.

"I must admit the sight of you like this is rather... enticing," he says, his tone nonchalant. He's not looking at you, and he's pretending to straighten his armor, but you can see the pink flush on the back of his neck and the tips of his ears.

"Yeah?" you question, and his eyes flick up to meet yours.

"Yes," he murmurs, and the look he gives you makes your knees weak.

"Good to know,” you breathe. He raises an eyebrow at you, and you can't stop the grin that spreads across your face.

Tech shakes his head and picks up his belt, fastening it around his waist. He begins stuffing his pockets, and you watch him, amused. He's always so proper, so put together, and to see him like this, all riled up and horny, is an incredible sight.

"Are you just going to stand there?" he asks, eyeing you, and you grin.

"Maybe," you tease, and he rolls his eyes.

"I will leave you here."

"Sure, you will."

"I will," he insists, but the look in his eyes gives him away.

"Okay, okay," you chuckle. You grab a cloth and wipe off the worst of the mess, and Tech hands you your pants and underwear. You pull them on, wincing at the damp fabric, and Tech holds out your shirt.

"Thank you," you say, and he nods.

"Of course."

You take the shirt from him, and your fingers brush against his. His touch sends a shiver through you, and you can't resist the urge to lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek.

Tech stiffens, surprised by the gesture, but you see the corners of his lips quirk up in a smile.

"Now what was that for?" he asks, and you shrug.

"Do I need a reason?"

"I suppose not," he admits, a faint blush staining his cheeks.

You can't stop the smile that spreads across your face, and neither can he. You finish getting dressed, and the two of you straighten up as best you can. Tech smooths down his hair and adjusts his armor, and you wipe the smudges off his goggles with the cloth in his belt. He helps you button your shirt and tuck your hair back into place, and he looks like he's enjoying himself.

You have a sneaking suspicion that he likes undressing you, and putting you back together again.

When he finishes, he presses a kiss to your forehead, and his lips linger on your skin.

"Thank you.”

"For what?" you ask, confused.

"For helping me see the value of a little spontaneity.” Tech gives you a small smile, and his eyes are warm. "I may have been...wrong, about today. It's been an illuminating experience, and I'm grateful for it."

The rush of affection you feel for him catches you off guard. He's such a dork, and he's so sincere, and the way he's looking at you makes your heart flutter.

You reach up and cup his face in your hands, pulling him down for a quick kiss. He lets out a startled sound, but he kisses you back, his lips gentle and warm.

"Who would've thought," you murmur as you pull away. "You have a healthy psyche after all."

Tech scoffs. "I told you—"

A shout echoes down the corridor, and the two of you freeze.

"They've gotta be around here somewhere," a voice calls.

"Shit," you whisper.

"Time to go," Tech replies, and the two of you burst into motion. You both dart to the door, and Tech cracks it open, peeking out.

"Ready?" he asks, and you nod, your cheeks still pink.

He pushes the door open, and you dash out. Tech's fingers curl around yours, and you follow him as he leads the way. Your feet slap against the floor, and your breath is coming in short, harsh gasps. Tech's hand is hot in yours, his grip firm, and his thumb rubs comforting circles into your palm.

You don't even bother trying to remember where you're going. You just follow him, trusting him to lead you to safety. You can hear the voices of the troopers echoing behind you, and their footsteps are growing louder.

"There!" a voice shouts, and Tech curses under his breath.

He tugs on your hand, pulling you around a corner. The two of you are sprinting now, and you're panting, and your heart is pounding. A bubble of laughter escapes your lips, and Tech shoots you a look, but the corners of his mouth are turned up in a smile.

"This is insane," he mutters, and you grin.

"It's fun," you correct.

"This is the last time I ever listen to one of your ideas.”

"We both know that's not true."

"Unbelievable," he sighs, shaking his head.

"I'm just saying," you argue, "we both enjoyed ourselves, didn't we?"

"Yes," he admits reluctantly. He suddenly pulls you to the left, ducking down a side corridor. "But next time, I choose the location."

"Next time, huh?"

"Yes, next time," he huffs.

Tech pulls you through another doorway, and the two of you race down a flight of stairs, then another, until you reach the ground floor. You can see the entrance up ahead, and you muster the last of your strength, putting everything you have into one final burst of speed.

The doors slide open, and the evening light streams in, bathing you both in its warm glow. Tech's fingers are still laced with yours, and he doesn't let go, not even as the two of you burst out of the building and onto the streets.

Tech tugs you to the right, and you follow, his hand warm and firm in yours. You can still hear the shouts of the Corries behind you, but they're getting fainter. You're both out of breath, and your hearts are racing, but the excitement is intoxicating.

Tech finally slows to a walk, and he glances over his shoulder, checking for any pursuers. He doesn't let go of your hand.

"That was certainly a memorable excursion," he remarks.

"Told you it would be fun," you grin.

"Yes, yes, you were right, and I was wrong," he concedes with a long-suffering sigh.

"Never gets old, hearing you say that."

"I can tell," he grumbles, but there's a smile playing on his lips.

The two of you continue on, your steps slow and leisurely, and the streets are quiet around you. It's later than you thought it would be, and there's no doubt the others are wondering where the two of you are. But you can't find it in yourself to care. Not when Tech is looking at you like that.

"So," you start, and Tech raises an eyebrow. "What do we do now?"

"Well," he replies, his voice taking on a thoughtful tone. "I suppose we should head back to the ship."

"Right. Of course." You try your best to keep the disappointment from your voice, but the way you deflate must give it away. Tech glances at you, his expression inscrutable, but there's a hint of a smirk on his lips.

"And then," he continues, his hand tightening around yours, "I'm going to need some help with the power couplings."

You blink and look up at him. His eyes are twinkling, and the corners of his mouth are turned up in a small smile.

"Oh, do you?" you ask, a smile tugging at the corner of your own mouth.

"Yes," he replies. He lets go of your hand and places his palm against your back, his thumb stroking your spine. "I'm afraid I need someone to help test them. Someone with a very discerning eye."

"I see," you murmur, biting your lip to keep from smiling. "I guess I could help."

He slows to a stop, and turns to face you. The evening sun is setting, and the light is catching in his dark brown eyes, making them glow golden. His hand is still on your back, and he pulls you closer, until the two of you are nearly touching.

His free hand tilts your chin up. "I'd appreciate it."

"And maybe after," you continue, a mischievous glint in your eye, "we could test the other parts of the ship."

"That's an excellent idea," Tech replies, and his fingers tighten in the fabric of your shirt. "We will need to make sure we are thorough. It wouldn't do to leave any part of the ship untested."

"No," you agree, a grin spreading across your face. "It would be irresponsible."

"Precisely."

Tech meets you halfway, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. Your hands find his neck, and he pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you. You can't stop the sigh that escapes you, and he swallows it, his mouth slanting over yours.

He breaks the kiss, and he's smiling, his cheeks flushed. Your hand comes up to cup his cheek, and his eyes flutter shut, his head tilting into your touch.

"So," you start, your thumb stroking his skin, "shall we head back to the ship?"

"After you, darling," he replies, his voice low. He presses one more kiss to your lips, and then he's stepping back, offering his arm.

You reach out to take it, and then you pause, considering. Your fingers drift over his bicep, and you look up at him, your eyes sparkling.

"Race you," you say, and then you take off, your footsteps echoing down the street.

Tech stares after you for a moment, before he shakes his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Infuriating," he mutters, and he sets off after you.

The two of you run, chasing each other through the streets of Coruscant, and the air is filled with your laughter. It's a beautiful night, and the city is alight with the glow of the sunset. There's a breeze blowing, and it rustles your hair, and the scent of flowers is in the air.

And there's a warm feeling in your chest, something bright and light and free, and you can't stop laughing.

It's impulsive, and foolish, and everything Tech would normally hate. But it's perfect, and as he chases after you, the smile on his face only widens.

Maybe there's something to be said for spontaneity, after all.

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia

@spicy-clones @kindalonleystars @cw80831 @totallyunidentified @heidnspeak

@lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @puppetscenario

@umekohiganbana @resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano

@burningnerdchild @ihatesaaand @lolwey @hobbititties @mere-bear

@thegreatpipster @lordofthenerds97 @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @mali-777

@schrodingersraven @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon @dreamie411 @sukithebean

@bimboshaggy @anything-forourmoony @9902sgirl @jedi-dreea @salaminus

@ghostymarni @gottalovehistory @burningnerdchild

#tech x reader #tbb tech #tbb tech x reader #the bad batch #tbb x reader #the bad batch x reader #clone x reader #roy writes #well i finally did it #here it is #if you see any mistakes no you didn't!#also thinking of doing some sort of celebration for 500 followers #maybe i'll do a prompt list or something #i need some fresh ideas

501 notes · View notes

nahoney22 · 5 months

Note

Congrats on 4,500k honey! Now I know you’ve already done this before but please I beg of you can we have some more first kisses with the bad batch? 🥹 it’s okay if you choose not to! Many thanks 💜

First Kisses 2.0

All Bad Batch Boys X Female Reader (can be read as GN)

Warnings: First Cheek and Lip Kisses with The Bad Batch. Mostly Fluff, Spontaneous Kisses, Some Angsty Kisses. Injury to Reader. Can also be read as GN. Not Proofread, A Little Rushed.

Authors note: of course you can bestie! Enjoy! 😚 some fluff before the finale! 😭

First instalment

Echo 💋

On the cheek:

“Echo, I’m fine. Honestly.” You laugh softly, watching as the Clone inspects every inch of your skin for injuries after a very narrow miss on the last mission.

"You narrowly escaped a blast," he remarks, frustration laced with also relief.

"And I owe that to you," you counter, recalling his swift rescue that spared you from harm.

Perched on the control panel, your legs swing gently as he inspects your hand, searching for any sign shrapnel pieces. With a soft smile, you meet his gaze, “Is there anyway I can thank you?” You ask only for your curiosity to be piqued by his hesitation.

His expression shifts, a mixture of surprise and uncertainty crossing his features. "I... I'm not sure. You don't have to," he stammers, his composure momentarily faltering under your gaze.

"But I want to," you insist, your eyes alight with sincerity as you hold his gaze.

“Do you… have something in mind?" he asks, his voice betraying a hint of anticipation as he tidies up the supplies.

After a moment's contemplation, an idea forms in your mind. "Actually, yes."

As he stands before you, you extend a finger, silently urging him closer. His eyes widen in anticipation, and he leans in, allowing you to press a tender kiss to his cheek when he’s close enough. "Thank you, Echo," you murmur softly, pulling back to gauge his reaction.

His bewilderment is evident, but a flicker of warmth spreads across his features. "That's... that's okay. Anytime.”

On the lips:

Okay, this time was too close.

In the dim light of your bunk, the weight of the recent mission hangs heavy in the air, amplified by the throbbing pain in your head. Echo's presence is comforting. Yet, he doesn’t say a word to you.

As he fusses over you, checking your bandages a sense of frustration and exhaustion settles over you and unable to bear the silence any longer, you muster the strength to voice your concern.

"Echo, what's wrong?" you inquire softly, your voice strained from the pain, as he prepares to leave your side.

He pauses, his movements faltering as he turns back to you, his expression a mixture of anger and regret. "You could have been killed," he breathes out heavily, his words carrying a weight to it.

"I know," you respond with a weary smile, "but I'm still here."

His gaze softens as he kneels before you, his hand instinctively finding solace in the strands of your hair. "I should have protected you better," he murmurs.

You shake your head gently, wincing at the pain. "You would have risked your life," you remind him softly.

His lips part, a flicker of resolve in his eyes as he meets your gaze. "For you, I would," he admits, his voice filled with unwavering determination. "I... I care a lot about you."

A rush of warmth floods your chest at his confession, your heart pounding in response. "Don't say that..." you protest weakly, your voice barely above a whisper.

"But it's true," he insists, his gaze unwavering as he lays bare his emotions. "I really care for you."

You fall silent, the weight of his words sinking in, before a smile curves your lips. With a gentle touch, you cup his cheek, silently urging him closer. In a moment of shared understanding, he leans in, expecting another kiss on his cheek. Yet, to his soft surprise, your lips find his, the kiss tender and fleeting.

"I care for you too," you whisper against his lips, the words a promise.

He gasps at your touch, his hand and scomp gently cradling your face as he moves his lips along with yours, knowing that he could never live another day without the feeling of your kiss again.

Hunter 💋

On the cheek:

"Have you found what you're looking for?" Hunter's voice breaks the tranquility as he joins you amidst the foliage, his gaze scanning the array of plants as he kneels beside you.

"Not yet," you reply with a hint of disappointment, your passion for herbalism driving your search for a rare medicinal herb, a desperate need since resources are now scarce since being on the run.

Hunter nods, but a subtle sheepishness colours his demeanor, his eyes evading yours as he fidgets slightly. Sensing his unease, you pause and turn to him. "Hunter, is everything alright?" you ask softly.

He hesitates for a moment before extending a hand, revealing a delicate flower nestled between his fingers. "I, uh, came across this and thought it might look nice in your hair," he mumbles, his words tinged with a rare vulnerability.

Surprised by his gesture, you accept the flower with a smile, touched by his unexpected sweetness. "Really?" you murmur, tucking the bloom into your hair. "That's incredibly thoughtful of you, Hunter. Thank you."

A warmth tints your cheeks before you find yourself leaning in, planting a kiss on his cheek. His sharp inhale of breath at the touch had you pulling back, completely embarrassed by your reaction. "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to—" you begin, flustered by your own boldness.

But Hunter's warm smile reassures you, his eyes crinkling with fondness. "I didn't mind at all. I'm just glad you liked it.”

In the quiet intimacy of the moment, a fleeting connection sparks between you both, a silent exchange of unspoken emotions. A shiver dances down your spine as his gaze locks with yours, a subtle tension simmering between you.

Caught in the moment, your eyes inadvertently drift to his lips, mirroring the silent invitation reflected in his own gaze. A shared understanding passes between you.

With a gentle resolve, Hunter closes the distance between you, his breath mingling with yours as his nose brushes against yours.

“Hunter, we are ready to go," Tech's voice interrupts the moment through a comm, breaking the spell that held you captive. With a reluctant sigh, you exchange a brief glance, silently acknowledging that this was not the right time.

On the lips:

In the quiet sanctuary of the ship, you find yourself caught in a spell, twirling the flower in your hair that Hunter had given you, the memory of his gaze lingering like a sweet melody in your mind. From across the ship, his eyes, full of unspoken words, steal glances at you, silent conversation being said.

As the others drift off to sleep, Hunter finally approaches, his voice a low murmur that sends butterflies dancing in your stomach. Leaning against the wall, his proximity intoxicates you, the air thick with excitement.

"We should talk about earlier," he begins, his voice intoxicating.

Summoning courage you didn't know you had, you meet his gaze, your heart pounding with adoration. "Or perhaps we could finish what we started?" you suggest, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

A spark of excitement lights up his eyes, his smile soft. "I like that idea," he murmurs, his hand finding its place on your hip, drawing you closer.

With a daring smile, you lean in, your lips meeting his in a tender kiss that sends your mind reeling. Warm, gentle lips slot perfectly between your own, hands tangling in his hair as you both try to stay as quiet as possible so the others don’t wake up.

Wrecker 💋

On the cheek:

"Hey, do ya want to grab a bite to eat or somethin’?" Wrecker's voice breaks through your thoughts, drawing your attention to his familiar grin.

"That sounds great!" you respond eagerly, accepting his hand as he effortlessly helps you up from the grass before you both set off, the ease of conversation flowing between you.

As you’re walking, you can't ignore the way his eyes had lit up in your presence, a warmth spreading through you at the thought of him liking you more than a friend.

Entering the bustling market, a myriad of tantalising scents fills the air, but your senses are drawn to a fruity and fragrant cuisine. "Wanna try this one?" you suggest, gesturing towards the inviting stall.

"Definitely. Smells delicious!" Wrecker agrees, but before you can reach for your credits, his large hand gently stops you.

"I'll get it. My treat," he insists, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

"Are you sure?" you ask softly, touched by his gesture.

"Positive," he affirms with a grin.

Grateful for his kindness, you lean up to his height, planting a soft kiss on his scarred cheek. "Thank you," you murmur, the warmth of his smile melting your heart.

Wide-eyed, Wrecker stares at you in surprise, his laughter bubbling up at your unexpected gesture. "Woah! What was that for?"

"For being sweet enough to treat me," you explain with a grin, accepting the food from the vendor as you continue your stroll through the market.

"If a kiss is the price, I should treat ya more often," Wrecker jokes, but beneath his playful tone, you can't help but wonder if there's a hint of truth to his words. Only time will tell.

On the Lips:

The memory of that innocent kiss on Wrecker's cheek lingers, replaying over and over in your mind. Despite its simplicity, you couldn't shake the excited reaction it had evoked from him.

One day, as you meticulously clean your gear and Wrecker's, he enters the ship with a grin, his gaze finding yours before he approaches you. "You don't have to do tha’ for me," he chuckles, taking a seat in front of you and admiring his now gleaming helmet.

"I know," you reply simply, shrugging. "I just wanted to."

Wrecker watches you for a moment, his gaze softening as he meets your eyes, a warmth spreading through your cheeks. "What are you looking at?" you ask playfully.

"Someone pretty," he blurts out, his admission catching you off guard, but you can't help but giggle as he becomes flustered.

"Well, you're not too bad yourself, handsome," you tease, a hint of truth underlying your words. His shy laughter only adds to the warmth that fills the air between you.

As the silence envelops you, Wrecker takes a deep breath, his movements deliberate as he inches closer. "Sorry, I-I just need to try something," he mutters, cupping your cheek gently before leaning in to capture your lips in a soft kiss.

Surprised but eager, you reciprocate almost immediately, the helmet in your hand forgotten as it drops with a thud. Giggles escape your lips as Wrecker pulls you into his lap, his kisses igniting a fire within you.

"What was that for?" you ask breathlessly as you finally part, your heart racing with exhilaration.

"I wanted to say thank you for cleaning my stuff," he replies with a playful grin, his eyes sparkling with warmth and affection. Sometimes, the simplest gestures can lead to the most unforgettable moments.

Tech 💋

On the cheek:

For days, you've wrestled with the decision to approach Tech about your broken data pad. But his constant busyness always seemed to deter you, and you didn’t want to burden him with your trivial problem.

But as you sit there, struggling with the malfunctioning device, you can't help but feel a pang of frustration. With a sigh, you finally gather the courage to seek out Tech's assistance, despite your reluctance.

Approaching him tentatively, you clear your throat to get his attention. "Um, Tech? Do you have a moment?" you ask, your voice hesitant.

Tech looks up from his screen, his gaze attentive as he assesses your expression. "Rarely. But what can I help you with?"

With a sheepish smile, you explain the issue with your datapad, feeling embarrassed by your own incompetence. But to your luck, Tech doesn't scold or dismiss you. Instead, he nods understandingly, taking the device from your hands with a gentle reassurance.

"I'll take care of it," he assures you, his fingers deftly working their magic as he sets to work on the repairs.

As you watch him, a wave of gratitude washes over you, mingled with a hint of admiration for his skill, something you always admired. And when he finally presents the fully repaired datapad back to you, a sense of relief floods your senses.

"Thank you, Tech," you murmur softly, truly appreciative.

His eyes meet yours, a warm smile gracing his features. "You're welcome," he replies simply, his attention already drifting back to his work.

But before you can stop yourself, a spontaneous impulse overtakes you. Leaning forward, you press a shy kiss to his cheek, the gesture a silent expression of gratitude and affection.

Tech blinks in surprise, his mouth agape but no words come out as he meets your gaze, his expression a mix of astonishment and warmth. "Uh, thank you," he stammers, bashful. Cute. He’s always been cute.

Embarrassed by your boldness, you quickly retreat, a shy smile gracing your lips as you leave.

On the lips:

The next day a cloud of uncertainty hangs over you. Despite the warmth of the moment of kissing Tech briefly on the cheek, a nagging doubt gnaws at you, fueled by Tech's seemingly distant behaviour.

You can't shake the feeling that you may have overstepped, that your spontaneous gesture may have made him uncomfortable.

Meanwhile, Tech grapples with his own turmoil, his thoughts consumed by the memory of your kiss. Despite the warmth it sparked in him, a newfound shyness overtakes him, leaving him unsure of how to proceed. He was never good at explaining his feelings anyway and so to express his own feelings, specifically about wanting to kiss you and reciprocate the affection you showed him.

Days then pass of awkward glances and silent hello’s until Tech finally has enough of waiting.

One evening, as the ship settles into a quiet lull, you find yourself alone with Tech in the dim glow of the cockpit.

Heart pounding, you brace yourself for the inevitable confrontation, prepared to face the consequences of your actions. But to your surprise, Tech's gaze meets yours, his eyes filled with a familiar warmth that always made you smile.

"Hello," he begins, his voice soft yet determined. "I have been meaning to talk to you."

You swallow nervously, bracing yourself for his response. “Good, because I feel like I’ve-.” But before you can utter another word, Tech steps closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek.

"I want you to know," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, "that the kiss you gave me... it meant a lot to me."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, relief flooding through you as you realise that perhaps your fears were unnecessary all along.

"Clearly, I have been trying to find the right time to tell you," Tech continues, his gaze unwavering as he closes the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in a tender, long-awaited kiss, “that I have wanted to kiss you for a long time.”

Your arms wrap around him, sighing into his kiss with a soft smile that makes your heart soar. His lips were timid yet they were radiating a warmth that made you want more. “All you had to do was ask.” You grin against his lips, melting as he holds you tight.

Crosshair 💋

On the cheek:

Amidst the chaos of a perilous mission, Crosshair's swift actions save you from harm. As the dust settles and the adrenaline fades, a palpable tension hangs in the air, his mood dark and brooding as he glares into the distance.

"Thanks," you murmur softly, your voice filled with genuine gratitude as you meet his gaze when you stand up, brushing the dust from your hands.

But before he can respond, an impulse overtakes you, and without thinking, you lean forward and press a swift kiss to his chiselled cheek.

Crosshair's expression remains impassive, his eyes betraying a hint of surprise before returning to their usual steely resolve. He offers no response, his silence a barrier that leaves you feeling embarrassed at your stupid action.

What a stupid idea.

On the lips:

As you begin to walk away, a surge of longing grips him, an undeniable pull drawing him back to you. With determined strides, he spins you around, his hand gripping your arm as he gazes into your eyes with a mixture of frustration and desire.

"What was that for?" he growls, his voice laced with a raw intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.

Unable to suppress the rush of emotion coursing through you, you meet his gaze. Soft and almost vulnerable. "F-for saving my life," you reply, your voice steady despite the tremble in your heart.

Crosshair's features soften, a flicker of vulnerability shining through the mask of stoicism. He hardly thinks himself but he leans in, his lips capturing yours in a passionate kiss that has you gasping for breath.

“Crosshair,” you whimper as you melt into his embrace, realising that beneath his moody exterior lay a heart of gold; a heart that beats in rhythm with your own.

“I’m here,” he whispers, his rifle falling from his grasp as his hands grip onto your hips as he holds you close, just taking in the moment that neither of you wanted to end.

Good luck for the finale everyone🩵

Tags: @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @lamiliani @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia a @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @imalovernotahater @sithstrings @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @yunggoblin @photogirl894 @the-bad-batch-baroness @lulalovez @thiswitchloves9904 @green-alm0nd

#the bad batch #bad batch eve #the bad batch x reader #tbb x reader #nahoney22 writes #tbb #tech x reader #echo x reader #Hunter x reader #wrecker x reader #crosshair x reader

837 notes · View notes

stellarbit · 4 months

Text

Two Faces

Word Count: 11k Pairing: fem!reader x Bad Batch, light Tech nods Warnings: nada except light violence. Training, some fluff, and general fun Summary: When your sister becomes a senator, you decide to join her guard to protect her. Your mother sends you to train on Kamino as backlash. You are paired with Clone Force 99 under the guise of a regular trooper. Encountering you outside of uniform they mistake you for your sister. It is a delicate situation and you have to play your cards carefully.

This started out as a request for the guys getting jealous of you undercover and here I am. When I tell you this was SO FUN to write but took SO LONG. If y'all like imma make it a part 2.

Edit; you wanted it so here it is Two Faces pt 2

“You want to be a foot soldier.” Your mother snarled down her nose. She was a tall woman, taller than you at least, and the governor of your planet. She waved a slender dismissive hand. “Then be a foot soldier.”

Face neutral, you stood before her in the white armor of a clone trooper. You held the helmet with both hands and a white knuckle grip. This wasn’t exactly what you had in mind when you told your mother you wanted to join your sister’s guard

From your mother’s right your sister stood wringing her hands together. She stood at your height with a face that mirrored your own. Often you were mistaken as twins. Only a few years older than you and already she was the senator for your planet -- the perfect example of what you should have been. Despite everything, the two of you were extremely close.

Concern ate her alive as she watched on. She opened her mouth, but your mother’s hand splayed out in front of her face, cutting off your sister’s voice and view of you.

Continuing to stare you down, your mother’s mouth twisted into her nose. Your family practically bred politicians and that was never your path. If the two of you agreed on nothing else it was that you were no politician.

When your sister was elected as Senator, you knew if you were trained you could be in her guard and keep her safe. It was a decision you were proud of and one that sealed your fate in the eyes of your mother. You would be of no use to her. She heard your wish and wanted to make sure you fully regretted it.

Rolling her eyes away from you, your mother turned her attention to a Kaminoan by her other side. As the leaders of two allied planets, your mother and Lama Su maintained a close relationship. At least close enough to call in favors.

“Thank you, Prime Minister, for this opportunity.” Your mother’s disgust faded into a pleasant smile. “Although, I worry she may damage the reputation of your clone troopers.”

The Kaminoan shifted his gaze to you. In near boredom he said, “You do realize she is liable to die?” Settling his hands in front of him, he turned back to your mother.

She scoffed, the idea of no concern to her. “She made her choice. Should that come to pass, Kamino will not be held responsible.” They spoke of you as if you weren’t even present. “But, do make sure they don’t take it easy on her.”

They. An ‘unorthodox’ squadron of clones you would be paired with.

Your mother said your name, her tone sharp enough to straighten your back. Her head tilted back, the crimp in her lip returning. “If it is discovered that my daughter is beneath that armor, forget ever coming home.” She muttered something to your sister and, in unison, they made for the door.

Your sister managed one last glance at you before the Kaminoan door swirled open and your mother shoved her through. Your heart sank as the giant white doors shut behind the women.

What if you never saw your sister again?

Alone with Lama Su, the bright, sterile room began to strain your eyes. The unnatural ambience of the room was enough to unsettle you without the addition of the Kaminoan’s cold stare. With slow fluidity, he fully turned towards you. His eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. “The modified armor will hide your identity. All you have to do is follow orders.” Lama Su said in his smooth, detached voice. He gestured a long finger towards you. “Put on your helmet, do not remove it in front of others, and remain silent. Your family may tolerate embarrassment, but I will not endure it here.”

Under his cold stare, you lifted the helmet and sealed it over your head. Your eyes had barely adjusted to the restricted line of sight when the doors hissed opened again.

Where your mother and sister had left, five men strode in. Their armor was mismatched in shape and color, but there was some vein shared between them. It took you a moment until your eyes widened and the gears finally turned. These were the clones!

You were no stranger to clones. The Republic had dispatched a group of troopers to your planet as a show of good faith and alliance, although you wondered at times if your family fully reciprocated that sentiment. That said, these men were unlike any clones you’d seen.

Their appearances were as mismatched as their armor. Your attention immediately drifted to a behemoth of a man towering over his cohorts and obviously blinded in his left eye. Standing shorter than the rest, one man sported a tattoo covering half his face. Two of them stood at the same height, one with goggles and the other with silver hair. The fifth man looked more akin to a standard clone than the rest, yet his complexion was blanched and he was outfitted with cybernetic prosthetics.

They were the most mesmerizing things you’d ever seen. And none of them spared even a glance in your direction.

Resisting the urge to look to the Kaminoan for clarification, you kept your eyes forward and did your best to look at attention.

“Clone Force 99, welcome.” Lama Su took a smooth step forward and swept a hand in your direction. Still, their eyes remained trained on the Prime Minister. “This promising trooper is being assigned to your squad for training. While their designation number is of no concern to you, you may refer to your new addition as ‘Phi.’”

Phi. A word you recognized as meaning nothing.

A pale hand landed gently on your shoulder, finally dragging Clone Force 99’s collective attention to you. Even through the armor, Lama Su’s touch made your skin crawl. The urge to bite settled between your teeth and the intensity of his stare did nothing to dissuade that.

His next words came across as almost proud. “I trust you will find the skills of this soldier to be exemplary, possibly even to surpass standard clone trooper protocol. It has been decided that integrating with your unit will provide... a most beneficial learning environment for all.”

The praise threw you off until you noticed the change in the squad’s expressions. Something in Lama Su’s words did not sit well with them. In particular, the tall silver-haired clone did nothing to hide his annoyance. Whatever it was, the undue praise clearly sealed your fate in some way. His sharp glance alone indicated that the undue praise had somehow sealed your fate—a fate Lama Su had very intentionally engineered.

“Training will begin immediately.” Lama Su said. “Proceed to the training facilities to begin. You have your orders. You are dismissed.”

Clone Force 99 wasted no time in filing out of the room, offering no introductions or even a glance to see if you followed. Their dismissal was clear; you were an outsider, not worthy of their camaraderie. Hurrying after them, the quiet of the corridor seemed to amplify the shifting of armor and footsteps.

"Just our luck!" His voice boomed, echoing off the walls. "Why do we get stuck with a reg?" He threw a glance over his shoulder, his good eye scanning you with disdain.

Reg? The term echoed in your mind, a label you didn’t yet understand.

The cybernetic clone fell back beside you. “The question is: what did you do to get stuck with us?” His tone wasn't unkind, merely curious, probing.

Instinctively, your mouth opened to respond, but Lama Su’s directive flashed in your mind—Do not speak in front of others. Clamping your mouth shut, you turned your gaze forward again, grateful for the helmet’s limited field of vision that spared you from seeing their reactions. You did see the way Crosshair's eyes narrowed, it was safe to assume your silence hadn’t helped matters.

Adjusting to the weight of your gear seemed trivial compared to the weight of maintaining silence.

Sighing, the tattooed man shook his head. “Listen,” He said as he stopped and turned. “If we are stuck together, we might as well get along. I’m Hunter.”

He gestured to the others as they continued walking. "That’s Wrecker," pointing to the large man, "Echo," indicating the cyborg, "Tech," nodding towards the one with goggles, and lastly, "And Crosshair," with a tilt of his head toward the silver-haired clone who had kept his distance.

They all waited for your addition, but it didn’t come and your silence remained. From behind your helmet you cringed. This was shaping up to be a terrible idea. You held your breath, bracing for the uncomfortable journey ahead.

Your silence only fueled Crosshair’s anger. His gaze narrowed, head cocked like a raptor eyeing prey. "Too good to speak to us?" His lip curled in a familiar, cruel sneer that reminded you of your mother.

Noticing Crosshair had an actual crosshair tattooed over his right eye you couldn’t help the little snort you made, emphasized by your helmet’s voice modulator. You immediately regretted your slip up as Crosshair set his shoulders, head snaking forward. “Something funny, reg?” The way he said that word was pure venom.

You almost conceded at the guttural sound he made at your continued silence, but before you could react Crosshair cracked his elbow into your helmet. The helmet crashed into your face and pain bloomed across your nose, knocking you down to one knee. Blood trickled from your nostrils, leaving you reeling with doubts and likely a broken nose.

"Crosshair!" Hunter barked. He didn't need to step in further; Crosshair stood back, arms crossed and lips twisted into a smirk of satisfaction.

Echo and Tech shared a glance, Wrecker gave a supportive smile, and Hunter shot Crosshair a sharp, disapproving look before turning his attention back to you. "Get up," he said firmly, "and keep up."

With one last glare from Crosshair, you pushed yourself up to your feet, determined not to show weakness. But as the sharp metallic taste of blood filled your mouth, you couldn't ignore the cold reality of your situation.

They certainly did not take it easy on you and by the end of your first session it was clear to all of you that you were a miserable excuse for a recruit. In the solitude of your room, you finally removed your helmet. In a small mirror you twisted your head, examining the crusted blood and swollen nature of your nose.

A gentle, and painful, touch confirmed your broken nose suspicions. You leaned in for a better look and smiled. It hurt like hell, but at least you made it through your first day.

You looked to a photo of your sister you’d pinned to your mirror. It’s worth it for her. Giving yourself a nod, you replaced your helmet and headed for the med bay- a trip you were going to frequent.

As you entered the medical wing, the only presence were that of two medical droids floating about and a female Kaminoan. The female swept her head in your direction, slowly blinking as you stood at the entrance. You recognized the Kaminoan as Nala Se. She’d given your family a tour of the cloning operations in the past.

She addressed you with a good evening and gestured for you to approach. “I am aware of your identity. You may remove your armor in my presence.” Nala Se said in her ever measured tone. When you still hesitated she added, “The clones are currently in the canteen.”

Reluctantly, you lifted the helmet from your head, exposing the bruised face underneath. Nala Se observed you quietly, her expression unreadable. “You should return home.” She suggested. “Our clones are trained from their creation. You will not be able to match their abilities.”

“That’s not an option now. I either return with training or in a body bag.”

You placed your helmet in a tote at the foot of the medical table and began discarding the rest of the armor in the same fashion. Clad only in your black undersuit, you continued undressing under Nala Se's impassive watch. Her clinical detachment did little to ease the discomfort of the situation

Stripped down to a bandeau and shorts, you climbed onto the examination bed. A droid hovered over you, scanning your body. "Subject exhibits a broken nose and extensive bruising," it reported to Nala Se, who nodded slightly before administering two injections—one for pain and another to reduce future bruising.

As the droid tended to your injuries, Nala Se handed you a set of clothes. "There is more than one way to remain hidden," she stated as she unfolded a Kaminoan-style outfit—a set of dark, tight-fitting pants and a long-sleeve shirt, complemented by a light-colored vest with fabric strips cascading down your legs

You’d no sooner dawned the outfit when the doors slid open again and voices immediately broke the silence.

You froze with your back to the door. Tech's analytical voice floated through the air, "I am merely saying, excess violence will only worsen the situation for all of us."

It was Crosshair who answered with dry amusement. "Speak for yourself," he scoffed.

Nala Se held your gaze a moment longer before she looked to the approaching clones. “CT-9902 and CT-9904, what is it that you require?”

Tech spoke up from behind you, "There is a high probability that Crosshair fractured his knuckles during training." You could think of a few instances that could’ve caused that, the bruises across your body serving as evidence.

Swallowing the groan in your throat, you finally faced them. Tech and Crosshair stopped in their tracks both staring at you with some confusion.

“Senator.” Tech offered a nod of respect. His polite tone threw you off balance as he mistook you for your sister. The Kaminoans' medical treatment had indeed worked wonders, hiding your identity well enough to prompt the error.

Crosshair frowned, a toothpick tilting in his mouth.

Tech, noticing Crosshair’s tight expression, nudged his brother. “We passed her on the way to meet the Prime Minister.” This was enough for the sniper to remove his toothpick and stand a bit straighter.

The immediate respect was a stark contrast to the blows they’d dealt you all day. Embracing the assumption you smiled graciously despite the stiff feeling in your face. “It is a pleasure to formally meet you, troopers.” You rounded the table to stand before them.

Without your gear, you realized just how much taller they were. And without the restrictive view of your helmet, you could fully appreciate how striking they were. They stood with practiced military bearing, radiating strength and a sense of purpose that matched their formidable presence.

Absolutely breathtaking, and in a much different way than when they'd been knocking the wind out of you earlier.

“The honor is ours, Senator.” Tech said. His eyes searched your face, for what you weren’t certain.Though having his eyes on any part of you was a lovely sensation. He paused momentarily, but found your eyes again.

Crosshair kept his gaze steady as he studied you, lending some clarity to your earlier question. "What brings a senator down to the med bay? Surely not curiosity."

Holding your composure, you lied, “I am… personally interested in the development and progress of the valiant men keeping our galaxy safe.” You took the opportunity to circle the two men while they remained still and eyes forward. The men had equally long legs and cinched waists that were positively sinful. This view of them was certainly an upgrade, igniting an idea in you.

“In fact,” You polished a smile as you came back to their fronts. “I’d be interested in some personal lessons from esteemed men such as yourselves.”

Surprise lifted Tech’s eyebrows and pulled the corner of Crosshair’s lip up.

“Mistress Se mentioned your squad is already undertaking the training of a new recruit.” Their expressions dulled at the reminder. “What’s a few extra morning sessions with a mere Senator?”

Nala Se, observing the exchange from the background, stepped forward to say, "That can be arranged for the morning after next. For now, the senator has matters to attend to. CT-9904, please proceed with your treatment."

Tech offered another polite nod before leading Crosshair to the medical equipment. As they moved away, you exhaled, glancing at Nala Se, who gave you an almost imperceptible nod of approval.

The following morning, back in your armor, you walked into the training room and the middle of Clone Force 99’s conversation.

Wrecker was throwing his head around, moaning about something you couldn't quite catch. “-well, why didn’t I see her?”

“You did, Wrecker.” Tech said in a flat, exasperated breath. “If only in passing.”

“But why would a senator want to watch us train?” Echo shook his head in confusion.

Tech adjusted his goggles. “Correction: she wants to train with us.”

As he twirled a knife between his fingers, Hunter asked, “Then why would a senator want to train with clones?”

“Does it matter?” Crosshair drawled from his perch on a rectangular obstacle with a knee pulled up.. “If the little princess wants our hands on her, who are we to deny?”

Little princess. Your mind stuttered at the words while your body visibly jerked at them. The squadron cut their conversation short and looked to you. The amusement between them quickly faded, yet even this attention had heat crawling through you.

“Let’s get this over with.” Hunter gruffed while putting on his helmet. The rest followed suit and training began.

The session was as brutal as the day prior, starting with sparring and finishing with blaster drills. You didn’t do much better than the day prior, but you were proud to have left with no new fractures. By the next morning you could barely leave bed.

But ‘little princess’ was enough to push you up.

You arrived at the training room early. It was much smaller than the usual arenas, scattered with mannequins instead of physical obstacles. You traded your armor for a form-fitting suit similar to the blacks troopers wore. Without a helmet, you felt exposed—but exhilarated.

When the doors slid open, your pulse quickened. With composure your mother would admire, you smoothed your expression and smiled. “Nice of you boys to join me.”

A small smirk lifted Hunter’s lips as he regarded you. “Senator.” he greeted, his gaze sweeping over your form. The word almost caused your smile to falter, reminding you of the misconception they were under.

They made their introductions before Hunter, hand at his hip, gestured for you to advance. “You sure you’re ready for this?”

The soreness that wracked your body protested when you squared your shoulders. “I was born ready.” Hopefully your feigned confidence won them over.

The way the leader’s head dipped with a small laugh said it did. Even from a distance, the sound reverberated through you to your core.

“Don’t worry,” Wrecker’s large hand clapped down on your shoulder and right onto an unseen bruise. “We’ll take it easy on ya!”

Crosshair rolled a toothpick between his lips. “Easy’s not our style, Wrecker.” You met his still skeptical stare, not backing down from the challenge.

“I can handle it.”

He snorted, flicked away his toothpick, and strode over to you. Leaning in he said in a low, snippy voice, “Better keep up, princess.”

As much as the nickname heated your blood, you maintained your smile, determined to earn their respect. “I intend to.” You said in an equally low, taunting tone.

From the very beginning, their training style was a complete turn around compared to the borderline abuse you endured while in armor.

Hunter set the pace, showing you rapid movements to prove your reflexes. When a moment of exhaustion hit and you noticeably slowed, Hunter teased, “I thought you said you’d keep up.”

Sagging your shoulders, you rolled back your head with a laugh. “Alright, maybe I wasn’t born for this.”

“We sure were.” Wrecker laughed and took over, launching into instruction about utilizing your body weight against an opponent. He demonstrated on Crosshair, who loudly hissed in protest. Wrecker put a shoulder into Crosshair’s abdomen and tossed him over his shoulder like a sandbag.

Crosshair struggled against his brother’s hold, until he landed safely on the ground. He snarled at Wrecker, then caught the amused smile tugging at your lips. With a grunt of annoyance, he averted his gaze and casually placed a toothpick back between his lips, feigning indifference.

“C’mon, now you try,” Wrecker encouraged as you stepped close. He used his massive hands to reposition your torso into a bent over position. “Like this, see? You gotta feel the power through your whole body!” His bubbly enthusiasm made it hard to take the movement seriously.

His demeanor wasn’t your only distraction. Despite your mother’s disregard for you, as the daughter of a politician, people were always careful with you. Between their ruthless training of you as ‘Phi’ and their gentle instruction as a ‘Senator,’ you were finding them more and more captivating.

Their presence was intoxicating.

Tech used a more methodical style of instruction. His hands deftly maneuvered your body into a slightly different form. “Optimal form is crucial,” he explained. His fingers lingered just a moment too long on your spine, sending an unexpected shiver down your back. With one hand he pressed your bruised shoulder lower.

Your teeth clenched against the pain, a quiet whine making its way past your lips. Tech immediately released his hand, observing you with a tilted glance. “Interesting,” he whispered with curiosity that pulled your eyes to his. Behind those brown eyes of his, something passed through. He blinked once, twice, and stepped back.

The moment went unnoticed as Echo chimed in. “Throw your weight behind it and aim for his diaphragm.” Wrecker tried to chuckle, but you cut him off by doing just that. Despite your best efforts, he didn’t even flinch. A chorus of chuckles erupted around you, but it felt good to join their lighthearted banter instead of getting the kriff kicked out of you.

The training continued until you were slick with sweat. You were exhausted, sure, but the exhilaration you felt in the beginning only grew with every brush with the men.

Though throughout the trading, Crosshair paid the experience little interest. He meandered the outskirts of the room, only chiming in when you had a misstep. Finally, winded but grinning, you let yourself sink to the floor. Crosshair sauntered over, standing behind you as he shifted his weight onto one foot.

His weight shifted onto one foot and postured over you. “Looks like what they say about senators is true.” He snorted, but the bite his voice carried when you were Phi was missing.

You leaned back, hands propped behind you, and squinted up at him. “And what’s that?”

His keen eyes scanned you, briefly pausing on your heaving chest before meeting your gaze again. “You’re all talk.”

Crosshair maintained a smug expression while his brothers fell silent, their attention fixed on the two of you. For the first time since training began, the ache in your nose surfaced in your mind. The memory of Crosshair's initial blow hung in the air as you carefully considered the situation, your tongue slipping over your teeth. He didn't realize it, but as you sat there inches from his feet, he was perched right within your reach. His guard was down, dismissing you as a non-threat.

The backhanded comment about Senator inaction was the deciding factor in your next move. You could always tolerate insults aimed at you. The rough training was even tolerable if it meant a means to your purpose.

Calling out a senator’s - your sister’s - resolve, however, was a step too far.

In one swift motion, you fell back, hooked an arm around his ankle, and yanked his foot out from under him. Crosshair's arms swung through the air, desperately trying to catch his balance, but he tumbled to the ground with a thud, a gasp of air forced from his lungs. Lounging back on one elbow, you kept his ankle cradled firmly in your arm.

The rest of Clone Force 99 tried - and failed - to stifle their laughter. Eventually, they gave him the same round of laughter you received. Crosshair shoved up on his elbows with a scowl. The twitch in his lip betrayed the amusement nipping at him. Grunting with a roll of his eyes, he pushed you off his foot. “Lucky shot.”

You raised your eyebrows with a satisfied hum, then let yourself fall back onto the training mat. As you lay there, staring up at the bright ceiling and still catching your breath with a laugh lingering on your tongue, you felt an unfamiliar sensation—happiness.

All your life, you’d been chasing after your sister, constantly seeking your family's approval. You had never been allowed to simply exist or pursue anything for yourself.

But laying there, beaten and exhausted, you felt strangely good.

Wrecker’s face appeared above you with a lopsided smile. He extended a hand as he said, “Now, where’d you learn to do that?”

Groaning, you accepted his hand and he lifted you with ease. “It comes with having a sister,” you replied. The mention of your sister brought a bubble of anxiety to the surface and Lama Su’s warning pricked you.

“Ha! Just like us then.” With his hand still clasping yours, Wrecker steadied you by gently pressing his other hand against the small of your back.

Your face heated, though it was already flushed from training, and you quickly cleared your throat, stepping out of his grasp. Brushing off imaginary dust from your thighs, did your best to sound casua. “I’m curious,” you said, eager to switch topics, “how’s training that trooper Nala Se told me about?”

Just like mentioning your sister had done to you, bringing up the trainee cast a shadow over the troopers’ mood, which only heightened your anxiety.

“Don’t remind us.” Wrecker gruffed. “It’s bad enough we’re missing out on missions and we’re stuck with a reg.”

“Reg?” You repeated.

Echo sighed with exasperation. “Regular clone.” The way you muddled your face prompted the others to elaborate on their own differences. Though you knew Clone Force 99 was different, you hadn’t realized the full extent until now. You understood now why Echo was the least brutal in his training. With his origins as a regular clone, he sympathized.

Lama Su’s conversation with them finally made sense. He was stoking a fire meant to burn you out.

You laughed nervously, “Surely it can’t be that bad.”

Hunter rubbed the bridge of his nose, dreading the afternoon ahead. “Trust us, you’re showing more potential than this guy.”

They all launched into a conversation about the trainee's abysmal performance, not realizing the irony. Meanwhile, Tech stood back, focused on his datapad, occasionally looking up at the group- at you.

Walking away from the group, you tried to peek at his screen. “What are you looking at?”

Tech glanced up at you and quickly tucked the device away. “I was reading up on some political matters.” He adjusted his goggles and glanced at his brothers still chatting away. “Nothing you are not already appraised of.”

Mouthing an ‘oh’ you followed his gaze t back to the others. They looked so different now, discussing the reg amongst them, than they did just moments ago. “Why exactly are you here?” Tech questioned, you could feel his attention on you.

Not bothering to meet Tech’s stare, you answered without hesitation. “To make a difference the only way I can.”

From that point on, a cycle began. Every morning they trained you as the Senator and every afternoon you received a beating as Phi.

Knowing their distaste for Phi was completely unrelated to you may have eased your anxiety but it didn’t make your training any easier.

That came with your mornings with Clone Force 99 and, on occasion, an even meeting.

The first time you ran into them outside of training happened when you’d snuck off to comm your sister. After stealing a holocom from the medical facility, you wandered the corridors for a few nights to find the best place to reach her. You always worried about an unexpected visitor in your barrack room. Wrapped in a cloak, you huddled beside a viewport, lost in thought as you stared at the device in your hands.

It had been the longest stretch you’d gone without speaking to your sister. Nerves kept your fingers hovering over the controls, practicing how you'd greet her, when suddenly your vision went dark. Your hands dropped the holocom in surprise, but it never hit the ground.

“Look who we found!” Wrecker’s boisterous voice boomed, warm and close, as his large form pressed up behind you.

Letting out a startled breath, you gently pulled his hands away from your eyes. Standing before you were Hunter and Crosshair, both of whom looked amused.

Hunter practically sauntered forward as he offered you the holocom back. "Caught you," he teased, handing the holocom back to you with a sly grin. His eyes dipped as your fingers brushed against his, he shot a question with smirk at you. “What are you doing out here so late?”

You clutched the device a bit more securely and shrugged. "Just needed a quiet spot to contact my sister," you admitted.

Crosshair raised an eyebrow, plucking the toothpick from his mouth and pointing it at you. "And you chose the coldest corridor on Kamino for your heartfelt chat?" he was unconvinced.

You spun the device nervously in your hands. “I didn’t think anyone would be out at this time.”

The silver haired clone gave a low chuckle, twirling the toothpick between his fingers. "Well, don't let us interrupt your cozy little conversation.”

“We’re headed to the canteen for a bite to eat, you should come.” Wrecker suggested, resting his hands on your shoulder.

Hunter nodded in agreement. "You’re right about one thing - it’s quieter this time of night. Less regs to get in the way."

Wrecker grinned wide and leaned in closer, giving you a gentle shake as his presence nudged you forward. "Besides, it's warmer there!"

You certainly felt warmer, but not just from the prospect of a heated room. Glancing down at the holocom, you wondered if your sister was even awake. Unable to resist their invite, you stashed the device away and smiled. “Alright, why not? Lead the way.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Crosshair said in a way that made you roll your eyes. He could make anything sound sarcastic.

Joining them turned out to be a worthy trade. Crosshair and Hunter sat across from you and Wrecker. Wrecker made a habit of pushing into your space, offering bites of his favorite bits, while Crosshair and Hunter discussed your upcoming training sessions as Phi—a topic you found less than thrilling. Instead, you chose to bask in Wrecker’s warm attention.

Despite his high energy and monstrous strength, Wrecker proved to be the most gentle of the batch. Always the first to help you to your feet or catch you when you stumbled. His touch light, the calluses of his hands only ever brushing you. The skinship was a new experience for you, but one you wanted more of each time.

After your last bite of a chocolate morsel, Wrecker caught your chin between his thumb and forefinger. He rubbed a thumb over the corner of your mouth, dragging your lip down with the pressure of his touch.

“Got a little somethin’ there,” Wrecker chuckled, showing you the smear of chocolate on his thumb. “Guess I’m not the only messy eater ‘round here.” His smile crinkled his eyes as he dipped his thumb into his mouth to suck off the sweet remnant.

The casual intimacy of the gesture wasn’t lost on you, though it seemed to escape him. He turned back to his plate, completely missing the heat rising to your face. As a soft smile lilted your lips, you shut your eyes and leaned into Wrecker’s form. Surrounded by them, you felt a wave of contentment—you could happily spend all your free time like this

Wrecker perked up, his eyes wide and eyebrows raised as he felt your weight against him. He sat stock still for a moment, glancing between you and his brothers. Gradually, he relaxed into your touch and reached an arm around you.

“H-Hey,” he stammered slightly, patting a hand on your hip, “What’s all this?”

A foot knocked into yours from beneath the table. Peeking out from under an eyelid, you met Hunter’s lopsided smile and received another gentle tap. “Don’t be falling asleep on us. It wouldn’t be a good look for us to be carrying your limp body back.”

“Is the little princess tired?” Crosshair added lightly, a rare hint of playfulness in his tone.

Closing your eye once more, you hummed in agreement. Sitting alone with them in a mess hall, sharing a meal and laughing under the harsh lighting, you felt completely at peace.

Your mother had meant this all to be a punishment. She couldn’t have imagined that this place, these men, would heal a part of you you hadn’t realized was broken. They built you up and their training made you feel strong. They never admitted to it while you were in armor, but from their observations of the Senator you were improving.

Something you showcased one afternoon as Phi. During a drill with dummy droids, you found yourself blindsided by a metallic blow to your back. Another droid seized you by the neck and hurled you about twenty feet, leaving you crumpled on the ground as the simulation abruptly ended.

Still seeing stars, you heard the familiar cadence of Crosshair’s footsteps. “Get up.” Crosshair growled from above you.

Twisting onto your side, you struggled to catch your breath. Crosshair’s helmet angled to the side as he clicked his tongue, shoving his heal into your hip. “I said get up.” He punctuated his words with another kick. The sharp pain instantly boiled up weeks of frustration and pain.

Not a single thought registered with you as you snapped. As fast as a hydrosnake, you lashed out, looped an arm around his ankle and thrashed him back as you had before. This time your training took over.

You didn’t stop at holding him by his foot. No, you pulled his leg to the side, opening his hips, and pinned his thigh under your knee. Before he could grab at you, you pressed your torso across his, driving an elbow into the side of his helmet. Your hands clasped behind his bicep, effectively locking him in place.

Crosshair thrashed against you as his free hand hammered into the soft spot between your chest and shoulder plates. With every hit, you tightened your grip on him. His vile threats drowned out the sound of Wrecker’s stomping towards the two of you.

A large hand ripped you by the back of your neck, instantly detangling you from the sniper. “Not so tough now, are ya?” Wrecker taunted.

Dangling in the air, your legs kicked and fingers scratched at Wrecker’s fingers. The fingers that otherwise delicately touched you choked you in more ways than one. Crosshair shot up from the ground, ripping off his helmet to expose his seething expression.

“Wrecker!” Echo’s voice rang out from the sidelines, but his veiled command did little to deescalate the situation.

The sarcastic, teasing Crosshair who interacted with you as a senator was nowhere to be seen. Instead, he whipped a finger at you, a silent but unmistakable threat as he closed in on you.

It was Tech that quickly slid between you, effectively barring Crosshair from getting his hands on you. “Crosshair.” Tech’s tone was firm, if not altogether scolding. “You kicked them while they were incapacitated. Therefore, their actions were justified, while your reaction is not.”

Crosshair shook with rage, eyes burning into you past Tech's shoulder. The silent threat of his pointed finger became a promise.

“Wrecker, drop him.” Hunter ordered he yanked Wrecker’s arm down.

Wrecker begrudgingly released you, setting you down with a rough thud, but you quickly steadied yourself, brushing off the dust. Your breath was labored, but you didn’t falter under Crosshair’s glare. It didn’t matter who Crosshair thought you were at this point, he was just being cruel. It fully pissed you off more than anything up to that point. Tension hung in the air, and with each passing second, your urge to snap grew stronger.

Tech stepped aside and Hunter’s stern gaze moved between you and Crosshair. “Are we done?”

Crosshair let out a low growl before reluctantly shoving his helmet back on with a quick twist. You, on the other hand, weren’t done and needed to calm down fast.

“You’ll never be worth our time,” Crosshair said with venom. “You fight like a child.”

That simmering urge burst through. You lunged forward, craned your head back, and bashed the front of your helmet into his. The old wound on your nose flared, but watching Crosshair thrown back and stumbling dulled the pain to an ache.

He shook it off quickly enough and charged you again, narrowly missing as Echo intercepted him.

While you regained your balance, Tech fell in beside you, gently catching you by the forearm. You were too busy wheezing to notice the strangeness in Tech’s assisting you as Phi. While you watched Hunter and Echo work to calm Crosshair, Tech brought his head closer, whispering for only you to hear, “Do not antagonize him. You’ve already had one broken nose, let’s not aim for another.”

All of your burning rage cooled in an instant. You slowly looked at the technician, whose eyes watched you intensely from behind his helmet. Something in his gaze drowned out all other sounds around you. He looked at you differently from how the others ever had.

You had no idea how he knew, but the way he looked at you made it clear: Tech knew exactly who you were.

He leaned closer, his voice a low, amused murmur. "It was obvious." Your head jerked back as if to say ‘how was it obvious?’

Sensing your immediate tension, he added quickly, "To me, at least. The others don’t seem to have noticed." He glanced over his shoulder to ensure Crosshair remained restrained before looking back at you. "We'll manage Crosshair. You should head to the medical facility to have your nose examined."

“Tech-” You tried to whisper but Tech cut you off, spinning you towards the exit. You didn’t wait for him to tell you again.

You did manage to hear Tech quip, “For the record, Crosshair, that would be twice now they bested you.” You made sure you were out the door by the time Crosshair turned on his brother.

Tech was right to send you to get checked out. You’d avoided a broken nose, but the swelling did need attention. You were still in armor when you got back to your room. Dropping down onto a storage tote, you set your helmet between your feet. Elbows on your knees, you sat looking out over the swath of ocean beyond your windows.

The steady drum of rain against your window helped soothe your nerves, which had barely eased since you left the training grounds. You sat there for a while, combing through your time on Kamino, searching for any clue as to how Tech figured out who you were. With his keen mind, anything seemed possible, but you still wondered when you slipped up.

The sound of your barrack door opening snapped you out of concentration. You couldn’t reach for your helmet fast enough when someone said,“You need not bother with that”

You whipped around, twisting in your spot. Sans helmet and alone, Tech stood in your room. He’d already seen your face and touched your body, but this felt like you were meeting for the first time.

You slowly stood, picking at your fingertips. “Hi,” was all you managed to croak out as the door shut behind him.

It must've been an odd sight, you thought. The face of a senator on the body of a trooper. You snuck a glance at your reflection in the window. The sight was familiar to you now, but you remembered the juxtaposition taking time to get used to. You weren’t happy that the first time Tech was seeing you as you, your hair was stuck in a bird’s nest of a bun with crooked hairs jutting out at all angles

Tech said your name and something in your chest lurched at the sound. “If I am correct,” He said as moved his goggles up his nose. “-And I usually am, that is your real name. Is it not?” He remained standing just at the entrance of your room.

Your lips tucked into your mouth as you nodded slowly, still unsure about what to even say. “How did you know?”

Upon your admission Tech walked closer, free of the tension you carried. “Observation and deduction.” He explained, stepping around the tote separating you to take you in fully. Unlike when you portrayed Phi or the Senator, you had never noticed him observing you with such explicit curiosity.

Tech circled you, one hand cradling his elbow and the other holding his chin. “I was fairly certain Crosshair broke the trooper’s nose during the initial altercation. When we met in the medical facility, I noticed a distinct mark on your nose—an odd thing for a distinguished guest such as a Senator.” He moved around your right side, his finger gently pressing into your shoulder. “To confirm my suspicions, I applied pressure to a region I hypothesized would be tender if my assumptions were correct.”

"Your reaction confirmed it," Tech concluded, stepping back to give you space. "It was subtle, but it was enough for me to piece together the truth about your dual identities."

He took a seat on the tote facing the window and pulled out his datapad, tapping away as he continued. “Still, I didn’t have an explanation as to why a senator would be here like this. Until you mentioned your sister, which finally prompted me to do a bit of research.” Tech angled his datapad towards you, displaying a news article with a photo of your sister. “I must admit, the resemblance is uncanny. However, with her being accounted for on Coruscant, it would prove impossible for her to be on Kamino.”

He pressed a button and a photo of a stoic family appeared - your parents standing behind you and your sister. You only got a glance in before Tech pulled it back to his face. His eyes narrowed as he focused on the photo. “Besides, while the two of you do share similar features, you are far more… captivating.” Tech looked up at you, still standing beside him. “I could never confuse the two of you.”

Your breath hitched at ‘captivating.’ No one had ever remotely said that to you. It was always either you could pass for twins or your sister was the more fortunate child. Coming from Tech, such a logical and blunt man, it took your breath away. He saw no point in undue praise or flattery; to him, he was merely stating facts. It melted you.

You lowered yourself next to him, knees turned in his direction. “Why haven’t you told the others?”

Tech thought for a moment, his eyes shifting to the side as he considered your question “I do not know your reason for anonymity, but I respect your decision and will not jeopardize that. Your privacy is your own.” He nodded, pivoting to fully face you. “And I find I rather enjoy being the only one to know this about you.”

The tension in your shoulders ebbed, replaced by a fluttering that started in your chest and made breathing a manual task. You caught your reflection again, feeling frustrated that in such a moment you looked so disheveled. You balled your fists tightly enough that your fingernails dug into your palms, embarrassed that he offered such compliments to someone like you.

“Why are you making such a face?” Tech asked.

You watched yourself a second longer before offering him a sad smile. “I think I know now why you wear those goggles.”

Tech’s brows pulled together. “They alter the way light enters my eye to correct my eye’s refractive errors.” You sat back, blinking at the explanation, humor coming to your smile. Tech kept a serious face, not understanding the nuances you were attempting. “They help me see,” He clarified in a flat tone.

You yielded a small laugh, leaning over to tap his knee. “I know, I was trying to say you must need them if you think I’m the pretty sister.” As soon as the words left your mouth, you realized how mean they sounded. Not just insulting Tech’s taste, but fully airing the distaste you held for yourself. Your smile dropped and along with your eyes to the hand still on his knee.

A drop of panic hit your gut as you started pulling your hand away. “I’m sorry, I-”

Tech grabbed your wrist and you couldn’t react before he hushed you, “Get down.” He said, pulling you both down to the floor. He ducked his head, pushing yours down and pulling you flush against him in one motion. His hand cupped over your mouth just before you heard the door open. Two sets of footsteps echoed in. Whoever it was, they were too far away for you to get a clear image of them in the window’s reflection.

You craned your neck, trying to get a look but Tech held you fast.

“His armor isn’t here.” Crosshair’s sharp voice rung out. “The little snake isn’t home.”

Hunter answered with a sigh, “Cross, none of us like this but you need to ease up. The sooner we get him trained, the sooner we get rid of him.” The two of them made themselves at home, walking around on a light inspection of your space.

Tech kept you both completely still, staying so silent you weren’t sure he was even breathing. Which was impressive considering that between the intruders and being positioned between Tech’s legs you were having a hard time regulating your own sounds.

One set of footsteps quieted. “Would you look at that?” Crosshair snarled. “Looks like the reg has a little crush.” The sound of paper snapping told you he found the picture of your sister hanging from your mirror. The level of agitation in his voice made you worry for the next time Crosshair caught you in uniform.

“That might be why I-” Hunter stopped mid-sentence. You heard footsteps shuffle in place.

“What is it?” Crosshair pressed.

A moment passed before Hunter continued. “It’s nothing. We should go. You can play nice later.” Crosshair made a noise of frustration, and the two of them left the room.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Tech eased his grip on you. His arms hung beside you while you instinctively sagged against him in relief. You twisted around to ask, “What were they doing in here?”

“My guess would be that Hunter wanted Crosshair to make amends.” You could see a thought turning over in him. “And I would say Hunter either just realized the situation or is on the very cusp of doing so.”

“How did they-”

“We have always known which barrack was yours.” Tech answered before you could get the question out. He glanced away momentarily, considering his words carefully. “I advised them early on to leave well enough alone.”

The two of you held each other's gaze for a moment, and Tech's expression softened, becoming more reflective. “I did say I enjoyed being the only one to know your identity,” he murmured. “What I neglected to mention is that I took measures to keep it that way.” Gently, he lifted a knuckle to your cheekbone, brushing back a stray hair. The corner of his mouth ticked upwards.

“It doesn’t bother you - not really knowing me?” You asked.

As Tech began to help untangle the two of you from your hiding spot, he responded. “We may not have had traditional introductions, but I know all that I need to.�� You pulled your legs beneath you, reaching out for Tech as he stood. He gripped your hand firmly and pulled you up.

With a slight grunt as he helped you to your feet, Tech continued, “You are resourceful and brave. These qualities are not just observed; they are proven through your actions and decisions here.” Tech’s voice carried a respect and a hint of admiration that felt more personal than his usual factual observations.

“And while I may not know every detail of your past or every layer of your personality yet, I understand your core—your competence, your strength, and your commitment to your goals. These are the attributes that define you, not just the name you carry or the role you play.”

Tech bent over and plucked your helmet from the floor. “Plus, as a clone, a name doesn’t hold a great deal of value for me.” He held the helmet in his hands, He rotated the helmet, examining it before gently handing it back to you. “Does that answer your question?”

Nodding in slight awe, you gently accepted the helmet and immediately dropped it, opting instead to quickly wrap your arms around his waist. “Thank you, Tech.”

Tech stiffened slightly, the rush of adrenaline visible as his posture tightened—a clear sign of his surprise at the physical closeness. This type of interaction was uncharted territory for him. In the window’s reflection, he watched the two of you. Your face was tucked into his chest, hidden from view, but he could feel the tremor of your breathing. Unsure of what else to do, Tech lightly touched your head. “O-of course.”

Tech had a myriad of questions for you about your past and your motivations.Holding you in that moment, he decided, was enough. The questions could wait for another day.

The next morning's training session was particularly challenging for you. It was hard to ignore Hunter's scrutinizing gaze. He watched you as if decoding every movement, his eyes sharp and probing. Tech's earlier observations were spot on—Hunter was definitely onto something.

For once, you found yourself eagerly awaiting the end of the session. As soon as it was over, you hustled away faster than usual, leaving Clone Force 99 to prepare yourself for that evening. You were going to tell them the whole truth.

After mentally rehearsing several scenarios multiple times, you donned your armor and headed for the training facilities. However, as you stepped out of your room, you nearly collided with Nala Se.

She didn’t flinch, embodying the typical Kaminoan stillness. Towering above you, she blinked slowly, her gaze piercing. “Before you go, I must see to your injuries,” Nala Se stated matter-of-factly. Without waiting for your response—accustomed to your practiced silence—she turned and headed towards the medical wing.

You followed quietly, your mind racing as you pondered which injuries she referred to. Certainly, your nose and the rest of your face still ached from the previous day's exertions, and your torso was a tapestry of bruises, but these were all injuries that had been treated before. Moreover, Nala Se had scarcely crossed your path in recent weeks. Initially, she had helped you avoid detection, but she had not intervened since.

Her sudden appearance was less than comforting.

In the quiet of the medical facility, oddly void of the typical droids, Nala Se motioned to a bed. “Have a seat and remove your helmet.”

You were so preoccupied with thoughts of how your tardiness for training might disrupt your planned conversations that you barely registered her instructions. Nala Se said your name, snapping you back to the present.

Removing your helmet, you looked across the bed at her and realized her gaze was focused past you. It hadn’t been her calling your name.

Outside, Hunter, Wrecker, Tech, Echo, and Crosshair were on their way to the training facilities, helmets under their arms, when they noticed the Senator entering one of the medical rooms. Today, you weren’t cloaked in your typical attire but wore a robe of deep purple with gold threading, which seemed oddly formal.

Crosshair snorted, “Looks like we need to ease up on our little princess.”

Tech, who had been absorbed in his datapad, looked up. “To what are you referring?”

“I told you she was actin’ weird.” Wrecker said, more concerned than accusatory, ignoring Tech’s question. “Should we do somethin’?”

Echo, looking to clarify for Tech, gestured with his prosthetic arm. “We just saw the Senator enter the medical facility. And yes, we should check on her before heading to training.”

Tech paused, processing the information. He knew you well enough to be aware of your usual post-training soreness and kept an eye on the medical records associated with your after-training exams. You hadn’t sustained injuries severe enough recently to necessitate a deviation from your normal routine. He buzzed with suspicions and worried over the implications of your unexpected visit to the medical facility at such an unusual time.

“Let’s get this over with.” Hunter said, moving forward with all but Tech who stood in place a second longer. If his suspicions were correct, this was not going to go well.

Back inside, you were faced with your reflection. Blinking back confusion, your mind struggled to process what you were seeing. Stepping towards you, adorned in the traditional regalia of your homeworld, was your sister, looking every bit the senator she was meant to be, her hair elegantly braided back with strands of gold and pearls woven through. The purples and golds of her dress made her appear radiant and regal—so much like your mother, and so unlike you in your scuffed armor and haphazardly tied hair.

Nala Se wordlessly removed herself from the room, making the entire setup evident.

“Sister?” Your voice barely whispered as you took a hesitant step forward, half-fearing that any sudden movement might cause her to vanish like a mirage.

Her eyes widened, her pace slowing, as she scanned your face. Her face, so alike and unlike yours, crumpled with emotion, her lip trembling. Then, with a burst of energy, she ran towards you, hands reaching out from the folds of her cloak. You caught her in a tight embrace as she collided into you, her presence grounding the surreal moment.

She didn’t speak at first, only managing to choke back muffled sobs against your shoulder. You rested your head against hers, holding her close, and savored the familiar scent of her perfume—a reminder of days long past. “I’ve missed you,” you murmured, your voice not choked with sadness but steady and comforting. You had always been the pillar for her to lean on; this time was no different.

Your sister pulled back, rubbing tears away with the heel of her hand. She managed a shaky smile, laughing through another small sob. "I’ve been so worried. I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner."

You shook your head with a smile, gently gripping her shoulders. "You have more important things to do. Like, I don’t know, running the galaxy," you joked. Pulling her into another hug, you held her close for a moment before stepping back to reassess her. "Though… what are you doing here?"

Your sister took your hand, her grip soft against your calloused skin, and squeezed it tightly. "I’ve come to take you home. Mother—"

"Mother?" you interrupted, your tone sharpening as you pulled your hand away.

“We need you-”

“We?” You repeated louder. The joy of your sister’s visit dimmed the instant you remembered why you were standing together in a Kaminoan facility in the first place. “If this is for her, you shouldn’t be here.”

Your sister pressed a hand to her chest, perturbed by your tone. You’d never spoken to her like that. “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

Swallowing the instinct to give in to her, you reached for your helmet. “I don’t need to. You know why I’m here and I intend to see it through. You should leave-”

The sounds of the doors whirring open cut you off as you snapped your helmet on in a hurry.

Suddenly confused, your sister opened her mouth to say something, but instead you heard a familiar voice and the strength you’d maintained was replaced by panic.

The sudden arrival of Crosshair and the rest of Clone Force 99 sliced through the tense atmosphere like a vibroblade. “How touching,” Crosshair drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he rounded the privacy divider at the room's entrance. “What is our little princess doing alone with a reg? I didn’t realize you had a pet.” His cold gaze landed on you, igniting a tremor in your hands.

Your sister’s expression twisted in a stomach churning and familiar way. She scoffed and turned, “Little princess?” She spat the words out, her disdain palpable. You felt like you might gag yourself.

Your attention snapped to Tech who was just as stunned as you’d been moments before. Apparently he’d not predicted this. Hunter kept a straight face, eyebrows a little furrowed. If he had any suspicions about your dual identity, this chaotic reveal was likely skewing his thoughts. Echo, ever the sentinel, stood slightly taller, his posture tightening as if preparing for conflict. Wrecker towered behind the group, watching on with a rare sense of seriousness.

Crosshair, shifting his weight casually and placing a toothpick between his lips, continued to provoke. “What? Don’t want him knowing about our little fun together?” His wording would’ve made you laugh had the situation been different. He stirring up a misunderstanding for his own amusement.

Your sister didn’t bite. She cocked an eyebrow, giving the sniper a challenging stare before turning her attention back to you. “Are these the clones that have been training you?” Her tone was sharp, and her expression mirrored the stern demeanor of your mother.

Caught between weeks of training to maintain silence in your armor and the escalating tension, you found yourself paralyzed, struggling to formulate a response. It seemed all you could do was breathe through the growing panic.

“You two know each other?” Wrecker piped up.

Your sister, her confusion morphing into frustration, glanced quickly back at the group. “Answer me,” she demanded, her voice heavy with authority that did nothing to ease the stiffness of your tongue.

“You little shit,” Crosshair fumed, stepping towards you but immediately restrained by Hunter’s firm grip. Despite being held back, he snapped, “Show respect and answer her.”

Receiving his anger as an unnamed clone never felt as painful as the anger directed to you now.

Whirling on them, your sister jabbed a finger at him. “Who do you think you’re talking to, clone?” The disrespect in the way she said ‘clone’ gutted you and visibly startled Wrecker and Crosshair.

“Me?” Crosshair retorted, pointing a finger back at her. “Why are you defending him?”

“Him?” Her voice rose almost to a shrill. You reached out, trying to pull her back from the brink of the confrontation, only to have your hand sharply slapped away. She spun around to face you. “Take that ridiculous thing off!” She reached for your helmet, and this time, you reflexively slapped her hand away.

Crosshair, seething with anger, wrenched free from Hunter's grasp and charged toward you. Tech's shouts echoed behind him, but Crosshair was undeterred. He brushed past your sister with a dismissive flick, gripped the rim of your helmet with one hand, and shoved you backward with the other. Just as you tumbled to the floor, your sister retaliated, pushing him away forcefully. From your position on the ground, you didn't see it, but the sharp slap she delivered resounded through the room.

With his cheek stinging from the slap, Crosshair held his ground, his grip white-knuckled on your helmet as he turned a furious gaze on the woman standing defiantly before him. The intensity in her eyes was something entirely new to him. They locked eyes, each poised for further confrontation, when a realization dawned on Crosshair.

He’d never seen you look quite like this. In fact, you seemed like a completely different person. Dropping the toothpick from his lips, confusion replaced the anger on his face as he scrutinized the subtle differences in the face before him—slight variations in aging lines and hair length. There was more than that, Crosshair realized as he picked out the innumerable differences.

“Crosshair…” Echo said hesitantly. Still sat on the floor, you were on full display for Echo.

Wrecker’s face fell as he glanced around Crosshair at you.

Steadying a shaky breath, you gathered what composure you could and pushed yourself up off the floor. "Calm down," you whispered, touching your sister’s shoulder as you rose beside her.

Standing there, you couldn't bring yourself to look directly at Crosshair, afraid of the disgust you might see mirrored on his face. You missed the horror breaking across him. Instead, you kept your gaze fixed on your sister, silently pleading, "Sister, please."

Snapping her hand out, your sister harshly gripped your face and forced it towards the men. “You're the ones who did this to her?” She was likely referencing the scar marking your nose or the other tiny, healed wounds your helmet had dealt you over time.

Heat scorched your face as you were forcibly put on display. You reluctantly met the eyes of Clone Force 99. Crosshair’s face was pale, his brows furrowed deeply and his mouth slightly ajar in a mix of horror and disbelief. Echo and Wrecker were in similar shades of shock. Hunter, on the other hand, looked almost regretful.

Gently removing your sister’s tight grip, you attempted to soothe her. “They didn’t know. Mother-”

“Do not blame Mother for your stupid decisions!” She screamed, gesturing a hand at you.

“Stupid decisions?” You challenged, feeling insulted. “My decisions have been for you. So I can keep you safe.”

“I didn’t tell you to do something so childish and I didn’t tell you to go and ruin your face.” You inhaled sharply at her words. She knew how to slap with more than just her hand.

Ignoring the clones, she straightened herself, her demeanor cooling into a composed facade that echoed your mother's authority. “Enough.” she stated firmly, making you straighten your posture subconsciously. “You are to come home and act as my body double at an upcoming gathering. The clones who trained you are to act as your security.” Pulling her hood up to shroud her face, you saw a glimpse of your gentle sister once more. “We will discuss your future afterwards.”

With that, she was gone.

Left alone with the squadron, you looked to the ceiling as opposed to facing them immediately.

Tech approached, saying your name. The others whipped their heads to him, the familiarity in his tone throwing them off. “Are you alright?” He asked gently.

“You knew about this?” Echo accused, turning on Tech.

“Of course I did.” Tech said quickly and dismissively.

Crosshair's hands clenched into fists repeatedly, his anger barely contained. "Was this all a game to you?" he growled, his gaze intense and accusing as he finally turned to you.

You were to weary to be angry at him. How he could ever think being pummeled everyday for weeks was anything close to a game was beyond you.

Meeting his fierce stare you offered a weak smile. It lasted only a second before it fell with your eyes. “No, never. I was sent here for training… I didn’t mean to deceive you.” Your mouth pressed into a tight line. “I’m sorry you were dragged into this.”

The room fell silent. Wrecker, who had been silent until now, finally spoke, his voice a mix of confusion and concern. "So, all this time, you were…”

“Yes,” You finished for him. “But I didn’t mean for it to happen like this. I’ve been taking all the training seriously.”

“It shows.” Echo said softly.

Hunter stepped forward. “Alright, we can sort this all out later.” He gave you a firm nod. “As a team. But right now, we have a mission.” He extended you a hand and a smirk, an offering. “The rest… you can explain on the way.”

Your chest caved at the sight. Taking his hand you choked out, “Gladly.”

Tech adjusted his goggles with a smile. “Then that settles it.” Brandishing his datapad, he started scrolling through the screen. “And I have compiled a list of questions that will clarify this entire ordeal.”

Hunter walked beside you, placing an encouraging hand on your back. “Let’s get going.”

Echo and Wrecker still looked conflicted, but nodded in agreement with Hunter's decision, and even Crosshair, though still visibly upset, did not contest.

Tech gave one final note. “All things considered, that went far better than even I could have predicted.”

@bruh-myguy-what i hope you like <3

590 notes · View notes