#tbbwriting

[neon-junkie]

In the Heat of the Moment - Chpt.9

Summary: “Less than ten percent of domesticated species go into heats,” accord to Tech and his research, and (un)fortunately, you’re one of that ten percent. What else are you meant to do? Trapped during a heat cycle with five men - five willing men who are happy to help relieve you, but not all have the confidence to say so.

Relationship: The Bad Batch x fem!Reader (she/her)

Tags: Heats, Mating, Sex pollen, Friends with benefits, Friends to lovers, Slow burn, Sex, Jealousy, Pining, Tags to be added.

Word count: 2k

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 10 - not published yet]

Chapter 9 - An Excellent Listener

Thank the stars that the Marauder not only managed to exit the atmosphere of Tatooine, but also drift off into hyperspace! Everybody let out a sigh of relief as the stars around them turned into a whirlpool of lights, a sign that you’re finally on your way, with Kamino as your destination.

It’s going to take a few standard hours to reach the terraformed surface of Kamino, so the Batch are up to their usual shenanigans. As for you, you’re sticking to your quarters. That argument with Hunter is still brewing in your mind, and you might as well lock yourself away to prevent your poor Sergeant from being bothered by your hormones.

You’ve spent your time doing some cleaning, rearranging, folding clothes and changing your sheets. A deep clean never hurts, and it can be good for the mind.

But do you know what isn’t good for the mind? Or better yet - who isn’t good for the mind?

‘KNOCK KNOCK.’

“Come in,” you respond without missing a beat.

Tall, slender legs come into your line of sight, seeing as you’re sitting on the floor, rearranging your underbed storage. “Figured you might need this,” Crosshair comments as he enters your dorm, a cup of tea in hand.

“Oh,” you sigh. Crosshair was the last person that you expected to be bringing you a cup of tea. Well, besides Hunter…

Crosshair places the tea on your bedside table, and blankly gestures to your bed. “Sure, you can sit,” you nod.

Once seated, Crosshair rests back on his elbows, really making himself at home. His eyes dart around your room, noticing your decorations, memorabilia and trinkets scattered about. He doesn’t come in here often - if ever - so you can’t blame him for having a browse.

“Comfortable?” you sarcastically comment, seeing as his slender form is somehow taking up half of your bed.

“Not quite,” Crosshair responds. “Need to tuck myself into bed,” he grins, and begins untucking your duvet, earning a slap on the hand.

“I just made that,” you grumble.

“I noticed, fresh sheets and all. How kind of you,” he smirks, finally earning a laugh from you. “Now, stop distracting yourself, and come up here and talk to me,” Crosshair orders, giving the blank space on the bed a gentle pat.

“You want to talk?” your brow raises, yet you find yourself finishing off your organising, pushing the storage container back under your bunk.

Crosshair shrugs. “I figured it’s you who wants to talk, and I’m an excellent listener.”

Rolling your eyes, you sit yourself on your bed, getting as comfortable as you can. Only now does Crosshair’s cologne reach your nose, warm and musky, a comforting scent - but you’ll never admit that to him. Crosshairs shifts upright, now resting against the back of your bunk with his legs crossed. At least he’s not wearing shoes, nor his armour, keeping your bed clean!

You’re silent, so after letting out a sigh, Crosshair starts things off. “Hunter does care about you, you know.”

“Ugh,” you groan, already debating shooing the sniper out of your room.

“He does. That’s why he brought you those supplements. I was with him when it happened. He wouldn’t stop mumbling about your little issue, and figured it wouldn’t do any harm to have that option available.”

“He could have spoken to me about it first,” you shrug.

“How?” Crosshair replies. “We had the option then and there, and it isn’t exactly a conversation to be had over the comm. Might as well buy the supplements, and if you decide not to take them, then that’s your choice.”

“Exactly! I’ve chosen not to take them! Hunter can’t complain about my decision-”

“-But Hunter also has the right to be annoyed.” Crosshair shakes his head. Acting as the mediator was not on his list of things to do today, yet here he is. “When you’re part of a squad, every choice you make has the ability to impact others, including those closest to you. You know what Hunter is like. You’ve seen him suffering from migraines, poor vision, stomach bugs. His enhanced senses come at a cost, just like the rest of us.”

“And what’s your ‘cost,’ hm?” you pry. Sure, you’ve seen Wrecker suffer from his aching muscles, Tech with an inability to switch off his mind, even Echo has had his fair share of suffering, despite not being defective in the Batch’s way.

Crosshair lets out a grunt. “You’ve never seen me wearing my reading glasses.”

“Reading glasses?!” you repeat with a laugh. “I didn’t think that you-”

“-Exactly. I don’t wear them around others,” he waves his hand. “Beside the point, Hunter is going stir-crazy from that scent of yours,” Crosshair boldly points to your crotch, causing you to clash your thighs together.

“So, what you’re saying is that I should start taking them, for Hunter?” you question, seeing as that’s what Crosshair has been hinting at.

“No. It’s too late for that.”

“Well, then what?” you grumble, waving your arms up in frustration.

Crosshair raises his brows, offering you a suggestive expression. “Just kriff him already. Do us all a favour, and kriff him until you’re both satisfied.”

“Crosshair!” You yelp, grabbing a pillow to smack him over the head with.

“That’s Hunter’s name that you should be yelling, not mine!” he smirks, ripping the pillow from your grasp to smack you with, before chucking it across the room. “You need to do us all the favour! Hunter’s been in a sulk ever since you started your strange mating ritual, and the rest of us can’t bare to tolerate him any longer!”

With a huff, you send Crosshair a glare, only for him to mimic it. “I’ll think about it,” you grumble. The thought of sleeping with Hunter has been on your mind, but on your terms - not on Crosshair’s, as strange as that sounds.

“You better,” Crosshair playfully threatens. His arms cross against his chest as he leans back comfortably. “And just think…” he trails off, biting back a chuckle. “…Once you’ve had Hunter, there’s only me left to tick off your list.”

“Oh my stars!” you exclaim, your eyes darting around your room to find something to throw at him in frustration. Your cup of tea? Tempting, but you’d rather drink it. Saying that, you settle on swatting his arm before taking a well-needed drink.

Crosshair laughs. He truly, deeply enjoys winding you up! And it’s your own fault for taking his bait.

“Wait-” you sputter, placing the tea on your bedside table. “How did you find out about the others?”

Crosshair sends you a look, but he doesn’t hold back on the juicy gossip. “Everybody can hear you and Tech kriffling like lothbunnies, you two aren’t exactly quiet. Echo quite openly admitted to it, and Wrecker? Big guy couldn’t keep his mouth shut when it happened.”

Letting out a grumble, you come to realise the situation that you’ve found yourself in. Maybe Hunter was right - maybe you should have started taking those supplements, preventing yourself from sleeping with more than half of your squad.

Then again, you’re having some well-needed fun, and it’s not like your men have any issues with it. If anything, they seem more than happy to help with your biological needs, as well as blowing off some steam. However, you know damn-well that you’ll all need to sit down and talk this through when the time is right.

Maybe once you’ve kriffed the entire squad…?

“Dammit,” is all you mutter as a response. Can you blame them? Wrecker especially? You’re certain that you’d be flexing if you slept with someone such as yourself.

“You poor thing,” Crosshair taunts, playfully sticking out his bottom lip. “But then again, we all saw it coming.”

Darting your eyes to Crosshair, you dare question, “what do you mean?”

The sniper lets out a soft chuckle, his arms crossing against his chest. He shakes his head as he explains, “a pretty girl was assigned to a squad of men. Somebody was bound to sleep with you.”

“You think I’m pretty?” you bat your lashes, which only makes Crosshair roll his eyes. Way to focus on the important points!

“Of course I do,” he scoffs, and you’re almost certain you heard him mumble ‘duh!’ under his breath. “But like I was saying, it was bound to happen, even if we all had a pact against it.”

Mouth hanging open, you question, “a pact? What?!” barely able to hold back on your laughter.

Crosshairs lets out a long, exaggerated sigh. “I’m shooting myself in the foot here,” he curses, digging a ditch that he’s content on not escaping. “When you first joined, Hunter made us swear not to try anything with you. Said it would ruin the dynamic, and all that. I guess that’s why he’s been keeping his distance, alongside the enhanced senses issue.”

“Are you serious?!” you let out a laugh. Now that is a sight you wish you could have seen! Little Sergeant Hunter asking his squad not to get physical with the Jedi. It’s understandable, yet you can’t believe they had that conversation!

“And Tech was the first one to break it,” Crosshair huffs, although there’s a sense of pride in his expression. “Didn’t think he had it in him.”

Raising your hand, you defend poor Tech. “In his defence, I did pounce on him. He seemed rather eager, though!”

“Good man,” Crosshair comments with a nod of his head. If it had been Hunter who went first, Crosshair would have been beyond furious. But Tech? Yeah, Crosshair has his back. His eyes flick between you, and your forgotten drink. “Your tea’s going cold,” he gestures. You willingly take the mug between your hands, enjoying what’s left of your beverage.

Rising to his feet, Crosshair bids farewell. “I’ll leave you to your… organising,” he shrugs, heading for the door.

As the door opens, you call out his name. Crosshair looks back with his usual monotone expression, but a small smile appears on his lips as you reply, “thank you for the talk… and the tea!”

“Like I said, I’m an excellent listener,” he mindlessly shrugs, and leaves you to it, shutting the door behind him.

Now alone, you question if you have any energy left within you to do some more cleaning and organising, not that there’s much left to do. Your dorm is, after all, as small as it can be. Curse the GAR for always picking the cheap route! The time on your clock reads that it’s late, and the surprise yawn that escapes your lips helps you decide that it’s time for bed.

Hopefully, snuggled up within your blankets, you can plan on how to approach Hunter… or avoid him even more…

[lulalovez]

Y'all I'm gonna go insane

I just want to find the headcanon about Crosshair not liking physical touch because he's embarrassed about the noises he makes. Wrecker knows this and being a brother, touches him on the shoulders and Crosshair makes a weird noise and gets flustered.

Then someone wrote a fic about the reader comforting Crosshair after a bad mission by touching him (rubbing his shoulders). It makes him feel better and makes him fall asleep.

PLEASE I JUST WANT TO FIND IT! IT WAS SO CUTE!

[gwaean]

The Rescuers  

Part One: “Old acquaintances meet again"

 Summary: You are a mandalorian rebel friends with Captain Rex so you are well aware of the entire "clone situation" going on. And of course you want to help as much as you can. You then go to Ryloth trying to help the Syndulla's and maybe find your old friend Cody. 

 Pairing: None. Yet. But will be a Crosshair x Reader.

 Gender: There'll be no mentions of gender or pronouns on this part yet. Though further in the story it might have she/they pronouns used.

 Word count: 1.6k

 Tags: Injury recover, post-clone wars story, rescuing clones/friends, a bit of melancholy?

 Warning: Brief description of injury.

 Notes: So, I literally dreamed most parts of this story (I know, crazy Star Wars obsession here). I filled up some parts as I was writing of course. And it turned out a bit like a beautiful sad tragic. I might even do a playlist for this fanfic actually. Hope u enjoy it :) 

 The war, the republic, the jedi all have ended. Literally on the same day. And what it seemed like a fresh start, finally a moment of peace in the chaos turned into nightmares. You weren’t there when it happened, you just heard the news of Obi-Wan saying the jedi order and the republic had fallen and you also heard the now Emperor Palpatine telling everyone that the clone wars has ended and the jedi were traitor, they’ve tried to assassinate him according to well… himself. And now he’s forming this new galactic empire, giving people numbers like the ones clones used to have and killing off any resistance against this new order. Everyone seemed to believe him, you gotta give him that he was a pretty damn’ good  liar indeed. But you knew better than that. You are mandalorian after all and were friends with no one less than Duchess Satine and Senator Padmé. You helped them countless times in their diplomatics and you even fought with the jedi and the clones at times. They were good people, yes, the order might have messed up at lot but traitors? Murders? They sure didn’t deserve to die like that and I guess… No one does.

  You quickly then joined the rebellion. There you found many of former politics like Senator Organa and even a clone… Captain Rex (or is it Commander now?). You’ve met him once before and he seemed like a good person and looks like he’s really a great man just like you thought. You soon became friends. But sadly, the other clones you knew before like Cody were still with the empire. Though both you and Rex were very determinate to help others like him. And also, obviously, protect your allies against the empire.

  Well, as expected trouble begins. There’s been rumors about what’s going in Ryloth with the Syndulla’s and the empire occupation. Worried about them and their people, you go there to help as you can. And if there’s need, you’d call more rebels to help too though you didn’t want to envolve more people yet because you’re afraid of the reaction it could cause ( and what that would cost for ryloth and its people). You also have a tiny tiny hope that maybe just maybe Cody could be there.

  Arriving in Ryloth, you discover the Syndulla family have indeed oppose agains the empire occupation and they’ve went into a lot of trouble because of that but apparently a group of mercenaries (?) have already rescued them from the prison they were sent to. One less problem for you to fix I guess. You were glad for them but you still want to spy a little on the empire and see what you could find out after all, the trip couldn’t be for nothing.

  You find your way and get to a particular high hill with a great view of one imperial base. You pick up your binoculars and the only person you see in a sort of balcony is a very depressive-looking Crosshair. You remember him from that one time clone force 99 saved your butt from the mess you’ve yourself in. He was… quite unfriendly, let’s say. But he did get the job done and made sure you were okay so you just ignored his behavior. Looking at him now it was looking at a shadow of him. 

   It made you remember what Rex told you once: 

“We clones were all created with this chip thing in our my minds. We were made for the war and the war only but apparently someone thought it would be great if they let us think we've got free will. That we could be anything we wanted to be after the war. So we made friends, some of us found a family with our jedi. They let we hope. Just so we have all of that taken away from us with order 66. The war had ended for everyone except for us. We had our will taken from us, our minds controlled by this chip and we had to follow orders. While we're still there conscious of what we were doing we had to kill the people we fought together the entire war. I remember her face... I'm so glad she didn't see my face. I couldn't bare.” 

 Thinking about what all the clones been through, you can’t just leave him like this. He did save you once and this was your chance to repay that. Rex keeps saying we can’t save everyone (more to himself than to you) but one person is better than nobody, right?  At the time you improvise a plan: neither the empire nor Cross can’t know yet that you’re a rebel. You haven’t done anything yet incriminating (at least not that they were aware of). So you can just jump in there where he was standing and talk to him. Worst case scenario he ignores you. However you sure knew how to annoy him enough that at least he would call you out and when that happens you act. Ok, that you still have to figure out exactly how you would act. Well, half of a plan is better than no plan.

  You just jump in behind his back and of course he points his gun at you as expected. But he apparently recognizes who it’s standing in front of him and put his riffle down. 

   “ Hello there.”  You say.

   “What do you think you’re doing?”  He replies.

   “Oh, please, don’t act like you aren’t happy to see me.” 

     He gives you a faint of a smile. “Don’t flatter yourself.” 

     You smiled back. “But seriously, what you’re doing here all alone? And why- You finally noticed the burn mark on his now bald head. - are you like this? Doesn’t the empire takes care of its soldiers? Nor your squad? The bad batch, right? That’s what you called yourselves?” 

     His face closes again. “You have nothing to do with that. I’m-” 

     “By yourself?” You pause for a moment. “Alright, I get it. You’ve probably been through a lot. We all have. Not sure why you’re like this but it doesn’t matter right now. I just wonder… Don’t you want to get out of all of this?” 

     Cross pauses for a moment. It seems like he's considering the possibility. “I… I can’t.” 

     “But…”  You then think. You remind yourself of how protective he was that one time you were saved by them. Maybe this instinct was still there, you had to try. You saw a pointed rock close to where you were standing and decided that you would accidentally cut yourself. “Ouch!” 

    “What’s up?” 

    “Oh! Nothing! Just might have cut myself here.” You show your hand now with a bit bigger than you expected cut and some blood.

     He almost laughs at it. “What a little clumsy one you are, eh?” 

     His mocking at you, that’s something, right? “Yeah, I guess….” 

     “Well, let’s go?”  He points to the door.

     “Go where?” 

     “Don’t you wanna take care of that, sweetheart?” 

     “Right, medical bay then?” 

     “Obviously.”  Perfect. He would be right where you needed him to be.

  The both of you enter the facility and walk directly to the medical bay. The empire base is pretty much a bland dark and boring military base with some troopers walking around, some commanders (you think) yelling at the soldiers and some droids doing whatever they have to do. You knew only that they were “r - unities” but droids weren’t exactly your area of expertise. However you do notice that the troopers walking around still wear the same clone armor from back the war. And you feel guilty. Because as much as you’d like you won’t be able to help them all. They’ll stay there with their chips on being controlled by the empire…. By the force, that was a hole guilty trip you knew you shouldn’t take. It wasn’t your fault. No, no. They did this. Palpatine and his men were the monsters. Not you. And certainly not these poor clones. One day, yes, one day maybe you could come back and save them?

 “Hmmm…. You wanna me to do this?”  Cross says. You were so distracted in your thoughts you don’t even realized you were already in the medical bay.

 “Oh. You don’t have to.” 

 “It's fine. I’m used to do this anyway.” 

  “Ok. Be my guest then?” 

  “Wow, you’re so funny.” He jokes.

  “Whatever. Just do your thing.” 

  “Give me your hand.”  

 You give him your hand and he takes it. And to your surprise he’s very gentle while taking care of your wound. He applies some alcohol pads to clean the wound. And as he presses the wound to stop the bleeding you reach for your gun and keep looking at his face. His very concentrated. It’s almost like the rest of the galaxy doesn’t matter. He’s only there at the moment focused on helping you. And you’re trying to plan how you’re gonna knock him out to take his chip off.

 “Now I’m gonna get some stuff to make a bandage for ya, ok?” He says and turns his back. Now is you chance. You turn your blaster to stun only and shoots. He falls. 

 “I’m sorry. But there’s no other way.” You whisper as if he’s actually listening. 

 It takes some effort (seriously, Crosshair's heavier than he looks) but you manage to put him on one these surgical stretchers. You also have to learn super quick how to use the pad control to see where the chip’s in and take it off. But it’s done. And you wait and wait… For what it seemed like hours though it was only like 15 minutes.

And he wakes up very confused.

[neon-junkie]

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."

[neon-junkie]

The Beginners Guide to Osculation

Summary: A late night chit-chat on the Marauder reveals that Tech, your friend and squad mate, has never had his first kiss. The least you can do is help the man out, and teach him a few things along the way.

Pairing: Tech x f!Reader

Word count: 5k

Tags: First kiss, Friends to lovers, Awkward flirting, Kissing lessons, Confession of feelings, Making out, Open ending.

Notes: I feel like I haven't written anything in so long?? Writers block is crazy. Sorry if this is OOC for Tech! This goes out to my beloved @tech-deck​ Thank you to @temple-elder​ for proofreading/editing <3

If it weren't for his snooping, Tech would have never of found himself in this position.

There you were, innocently scrolling the holonet during your shift on the night watch. The Marauder is quiet, parked up in a remote location as the night sky hangs overhead. You were mindlessly reading a new chapter of your favourite holofic, that was, until a voice piped up during the dead of night, scaring you to an inch of your life.

"They're doing what?"

You turn to find Tech standing there, eyes fixated on the screen, the image of your holofic reflecting against his goggles. You've never closed a tab that fast in your entire life, making Tech's mouth turn downwards at your dismissal.

"Do you mind?" you scoff.

Tech blinks once, twice, before tilting his head ever-so-slightly. "Your taste in fiction is... questionable, to put it lightly. Nonetheless, people are free to do as they please."

And with that, Tech continues down to the kitchenette, flicking on the caf machine as if nothing has happened. You push your chair backwards, peering over at him with your mouth agape. "The least you could do is make one for me," you comment, to which Tech hums in agreement.

"If you insist," he replies, and pulls out two mugs, ready to be filled with a warm, but dull, GAR approved blend of caf.

Soon, your cup of caf is placed down on the control panel, and you're expecting Tech to return to his dorm, and leave you to it. Only, he doesn't. Tech scoots a chair besides you, and lets out a pleasant sigh as he sits down, sipping on his caf.

"So, what exactly were you reading?" Tech questions with curious eyes. His toned pecs move against his under armour as he places his hands in his lap, one ankle resting on his knee. Tech looks like he's eager to start a conversation with you, but given his previous reaction, you're not entirely sure how things will go...

"Take a guess," you sigh as you relax back in your seat. Whilst you enjoy Tech's company, you were hoping for some alone time to catch up on various things during your night shift. Little did you forget that Tech is also a night owl.

Tech's eyes wander to your screen, only to return to you as he realises that you've since closed your holofic. His fingertips come up to rest on the curve of his goggles as he speaks, "I assume it was a romantic novel, given what I saw, and how you are blushing."

"Blushing?!" you sputter. Resting the back of your hands against your cheeks, you come to realise that you're far warmer than you realise. "Okay, maybe I am..."

"That is a natural reaction," Tech states with his finger pointed, before it relaxes back on his lap. "On to my next question; why?"

Your eyes narrow, "why what?"

"Why that genre?" Tech asks with a shrug. "Why not pick something more thrilling? Or enticing? Although, perhaps romance is what you find enticing?" His brows knit together as fingertips meet his chin, wandering into thought. Tech snaps himself out of it when you give him your reply, and to his surprise, it's simpler than he expected.

"Because I like it."

"Oh." Tech's mind falls blank, whilst his lips remain open. "Well, I suppose that's one way of putting it."

"What about you, Tech?" you cut him off, wanting to push the point of focus from yourself, and onto your curious friend. "Do you ever read holofics? Or do you prefer instruction manuals?"

"Very funny," Tech groans. "Holofics are not an interest of mine. I prefer to read informative articles, such as current studies happening across the galaxy, or ones that dive into the evolution of flora and fauna on various planets."

You can't help but mutter, "nerd," beneath your breath, which causes Tech's expression to drop in annoyance. He knows you're only teasing him, but still...

"So, why don't you try something different? Maybe start with a romantic holofic? Or do you avoid them because you can't relate?" You ask your last question with a wink and a playful tone, only, your teasing isn't reciprocated.

"That is precisely the point," Tech replies with a blank expression, informing you that you've hit the reason head-on.

"Wait, what?"

"You are correct," Tech admits with a shrug. "Romantic holofics are not an interest of mine, purely because I cannot relate to them. Sure, I can find the appeal in action or adventure, but romance often makes me feel..."

"Lonely?"

Both of your shoulders drop in desperation, and Tech simply nods in agreement. "Lonely," he repeats, tugging on your heart strings.

"I'm surprised," you confess, which causes Tech's sad expression to shift into confusion. "That you're lonely, I mean. I've always assumed that you at least had someone to talk to, maybe visit whenever we're on Coruscant." Tech is a handsome man, and Maker forbid that he doesn't get attention every once in a while. You can't deny that you have a thing for him.

Tech can't help but let out a light laugh at your assumption. "If only!" he chuckles, resting one hand on his chest, which rises and falls at a quickened pace from his chuckling.

"Seriously? No one?" you pry, wanting so desperately for Tech to be pranking you, only his expression doesn't shift.

"Yes, really," Tech says with a shrug. He almost seems unbothered by it, minus the pained glisten to his eyes. You assume that he's used to it - to being lonely - which makes you realise that you and Tech suddenly have far more in common.

Shaking your head in bewilderment, you blink heavily before throwing more questions Tech's way. "You've at least kissed someone before, right?"

"No."

You're stuttering! Utterly speechless! Is this all one big prank? Has Tech finally snapped, and decided to get his own back on you, seeing as you tease him on the regular? Any second now, a camera crew will pop out of nowhere, and you'll be framed as the most gullible idiot in the galaxy.

"You can't be serious," you sputter. How can a man such as Tech not have anything going for him. Not even a kiss at 79's? You know he's oblivious when it comes to flirting, and body language, and... many other things, but maybe Tech has been one to initiate something?

Tech's eyes fall to the floor as his brows slant downwards, putting together an understandable explanation. "Intimacy of any kind has not been a priority of mine. Given that I was born and bred for war, I have accepted that my life is planned for me, and it does not include any form of relationships."

A pained sigh trails from your lips, "oh, Tech." You can't help but coo at him, heartbroken for the man. Although, you also want to slap some sense into him, and make him realise that his path is not yet chosen for him. "But I thought that... you know, your brothers have had relationships, so surely you have too?"

"Your perception of me is so innocent," Tech says with a soft chuckle, his words laced with affection. "Again, no. Just because my brothers have been intimate, does not automatically confirm that I have, too."

"Do you want to?"

Tech softly shakes his head in amazement at your sudden and straight-forward question, his wide eyes locking on to yours. "Excuse me?"

"I mean, do you want to be intimate with someone? Even if it's only a kiss?" 

Gloved fingertips come up to Tech's goggles, and he trails the pads against the curve of his lenses as he debates your question. "I won't deny that the appeal of intimacy affects me. I have questioned what such an experience would be like, but I have also accepted that I am highly unlikely to ever proceed in that direction. Some things are simply not meant to be."

"Not meant to be? Phfft. C'mon, Tech! This is a kiss that we're talking about!" You burst with a wave of your hands, forgetting to keep your voice down as your squad sleeps down the Marauder's hallway. Tech, whilst being shocked, also has a smile on his lips, happy that you seem so eager and sympathetic towards him.

"Indeed, but still," he shrugs. You groan in annoyance, frustrated that Tech has put it into his own head that he'll never reach first base with someone. Your eyes wander to your caf, sitting forgotten on the control panel, and you take a well-needed sip.

Has Tech spiked your caf? You find your next set of words falling out of your mouth before you can even think them through. It's as if the Maker has given you a push; you've dreamt of this, but you never thought you'd have the confidence to start digging for it...

"Would you like to have your first kiss?"

"What?" Tech almost spits his caf out, and firmly places the mug back onto the desk, worried that he's about to spill it all over himself. "With whom?!" he sputters, failing to meet your gaze.

When Tech does finally meet your gaze, his head is dipped down, a sheepish expression. His cheeks flush into a vibrant shade of red, and he sputters again as you point to yourself and ask, "how about me?"

"You..." Tech pauses, and lets out a soft laugh, bewildered at the predicament that he's in. "You cannot be serious?"

All you can do is roll your eyes, a little insulted from Tech's reaction, but you know he means no harm. "I am serious," you state, adding firmness to your words. It's now or never, and even if Tech does reject you, at least you can say you tried.

Tech sounds as if he's about to start hyperventilating. His hands flex before meeting the back of his neck, rubbing non-existent sweat from it. He licks his lips, then licks them again as a series of words fall from his mouth, "I... well, but we... perhaps..."

"You can say no if you don't want to. It's alright, Tech-"

"-No, it's not that I don't want to kiss you. It's... uh."

A deep sigh trails from Tech's lips as he straightens his back. He clears his throat, then straightens his goggles, which have drifted astray during his moment of panic. Tech's lashes flutter shut, and he lets out another deep breath before meeting your gaze, his brows slanted, stating that he means business.

"You are an extremely attractive woman, and I won't deny that I haven't thought of you in an intimate setting before. That being said, I am nervous, to put it blankly. Both at the idea of having my first kiss, and my first kiss being with... well, you."

Heat rises to your cheeks as your heart begins to thump happily in your chest. "Tech!" you gasp, fanning yourself with your hands as a way of letting out your flustered emotions. "You're so sweet! You really find me that attractive?"

Tech, with a cocky smile, replies, "have you seen yourself?"

He lets out a soft laugh, and doesn't attempt to hide the blush forming on his cheeks. "Stars," Tech says with a sigh. "I knew I was set up for failure when you were assigned to our squad."

"What do you mean?" you question, tilting your head ever-so-slightly.

"To put it blankly, you are distracting," Tech explains with his finger raised.

A soft laugh trails from your lips, and you shake your head in amazement. "Really?" you question. "A highly skilled Trooper gets distracted by little ol' me?" you bat your lashes, and rest your chin in the palm of your hand.

Tech's back straightens as he blinks heavily. "Little? Old? You are neither of those things?" he hums, wandering off the topic.

"It's..." you stutter, and wave your hand dismissively. "It's just a phrase, Tech," you explain. "Anyway, back to the topic... your first kiss," you say with a cheeky smile, causing the tip of Tech's ears to blush red.

"Ah, yes," he clears his throat, and adjusts his goggles. "My first kiss," Tech repeats, in awe that those words are falling from his mouth. Soft eyes trail across the floor before briefly meeting yours, a clean sign of shyness. "There is one minor issue," he states with a finger raised.

"Go on?"

Tech's hands clasp together, "well, whilst I have... researched all forms of intimacy on a wide variety of levels, my mind has fallen blank on osculation. If you could-"

"-Osculation?" you repeat with a laugh. "Is that-"

"-Kissing, as you'd so call it..." Tech explains with a light chuckle. He always does this - pulling out the fancy words whenever he's nervous, or just trying to flex. "As I was saying, my mind has fallen blank. If you could... direct me, that would be highly appreciated."

You let out a pleasant hum at his words. "I'll be your kissing teacher, Tech," you flirt.

"Please do not mock me in my time of desperation," Tech warns with a weary sigh, forcing you to bite back a giggle.

"Fine," you drag the word out, followed up by a sarcastic sigh. "I'll teach you, alright, Tech?"

Tech agrees with a firm nod, and so, your lessons begin. Seeing as Tech has never been kissed before, it only makes sense to start with the absolute basics - a simple peck. Nothing outrageous, nothing sloppy, just a simple press to his lips. Hopefully such a minor gesture will ease his nerves, rather than plummeting him in the opposite direction. The last thing that you want is a nervously sick Technician.

"We're going to start off simple," you begin. A pair of alert eyes are on you, and Tech straightens his posture to flaunt his full-focus. You are his teacher, and he is but your humble, virgin student.

"Let's start with a peck on the lips. Just that. A simple press of our lips together for... what? A second or two?"

"Alright," Tech nods as a hand comes up to adjust the edge of his goggles. "Should I... close my eyes?"

You shrug, "well, that's what most people do. I can't imagine that kissing with your eyes open is nice for anybody."

"Alright."

Tech pulls his chair closer to yours until your knees begin to slot between each other. He shuffles towards the edge of his seat, hands grasping the arm rests until he forces them to relax in his lap. One hand flexes open, and you can tell that he's hesitating on touching you, but he swiftly decides to keep his fists shut, and keep his hands to himself.

After sucking in a deep breath, Tech's eyes finally meet yours, and he's as serious as he can be. "I am ready," he says with a nod.

All you can do is shake your head in amazement. "Tech," you say with a sigh, and bring your hands up to rest on his shoulders. "Relax," you order, pushing down lightly on his shoulders in an attempt to ease the tense muscles beneath your palms.

Another sigh flows from Tech's lips, and to your surprise, he moves his hands from his lap to cup your hands in his. "This is... an experience that I've yearned after for a long time. I cannot help but feel tense in such a moment," he admits, his thumbs subconsciously running over the back of your hands.

"I understand, and you're going to be just fine," you say with a smile, which Tech mirrors back.

Now, it's your turn to push yourself to the edge of your seat, slotting your legs deep against Tech's. Your face is mere inches from his, and you can feel his breaths against your skin, every breath laced with nerves. "Do you want me to bridge the gap? Or will you?"

"I will do it," Tech states in a tone that implies he's about to commit the most heroic act in history.

"Alright," you say with a soft laugh. "Whenever you're ready."

And now, there's a pause. Your eyes are locked onto each others, but you notice the light sweat forming above Tech's brow. Not wanting to make things worse, you allow your eyes to fall shut, encouraging him to take the leap.

One deep breath, followed by another, and finally, Tech slowly moves his head forward, and plants his lips on yours.

It's light, far lighter than you were expecting - a simple press of Tech's lips on yours, barely there for a second. Dare you say it, but you're a little disappointed that he didn't allow his lips to linger for longer. No bother, as you'll get to that in the next stage.

When you open your eyes, you find that Tech's are already open. He physically doesn't seem any different, just as nervous and tense as he was moments ago. "How was it?" you decide to ask.

Tech shakes his head, almost in disappointment. "I did not feel anything," he sighs. "During my research, I found that participants would almost certainly... feel something, a euphoric sensation that stimulates from the act alone," Tech explains as he points to his chest.

You can't help but let out a chuckle, shaking your head at the same time. "That's probably because we barely kissed for a second."

"Perhaps," Tech agrees with a light shrug.

"Will you let me bridge the gap this time? And kiss for a little longer?" you offer. Whilst you're no expert, you know that you can pull that feeling out from the pit of Tech's stomach - if he lets you.

"Certainly," Tech agrees with a soft smile. "I will simply pull away if I, for any reason, decide I do not want to continue. Which I highly doubt."

"That works for me," you laugh. "Now, it's your turn to close your eyes."

To your surprise, Tech instantly shuts his eyes on your command. No nervous sighs are slipping from his lips, his hands aren't trembling, and his tense shoulders have finally settled into a calm state.

To encourage the sensation, you move one hand from Tech's light grasp, and tenderly cup his jawline. He reacts to the gesture with an upwards turn of his lips - a silent cue for you to make your move.

Leaning forward, you shut your eyes, and finally bridge the gap. This time, there's firmness to the kiss, not the smothering sort, but a sensation that verifies that you're there. Tech mirrors it, just as he mirrors the tilt of your head, allowing his form to truly mould against yours.

A flutter of seconds pass, and before pulling away, you allow your lips to teasingly move against his. It's brief - a small gesture of the next stage to come, but you know it's sparked something within Tech when your gaze finally meets his.

"How was that?" you ask as you move your hand from his jawline, returning it to his grasp.

Tech blinks - once, twice - followed by lightly running his tongue over his lips. There's a rise and fall to his chest, and after a brief moment of thought, he meets your gaze with a vibrant smile.

"Fascinating." 

You can't help but let out a laugh, enamoured by his choice of words. Only now do you realise how wide his pupils are. He's hooked - hooked on you? Or the new sensation?

"And how do you feel?" you question.

Tech sputters, a surprised laugh falling from his lips. One of his hands comes up to gesture to his chest, and he nods as he replies, "I feel it."

You smile, and enjoy watching Tech shift through a series of emotions. Before you know it, his emotions are flowing from his lips, going into detail about the sensation that he was so eager to encounter.

"I feel an instant increase in my dopamine levels, which must be the reasoning behind this euphoric feeling. My body also feels somewhat tingly, a pleasant sensation that is caused by an increase in serotonin. I can only theorize that, if we were to deepen the kiss, these sensations would maximise. That is, if you would like to continue this interaction with me?"

"We can keep kissing," you say with a wink, causing Tech's already vibrant cheeks to turn a deeper shade of red.

"M-May I... initiate the kiss this time?" Tech questions.

"Sure," you agree with a smile. "If you want, we can kiss for a little longer," you suggest, wanting to edge him further and further.

"I will allow the sensation of the moment to guide me," Tech responds, agreeing in his own fashion. His choice of words always leaves you smiling, and that smile is mirrored on Tech's lips.

Your eyes fall shut, and you patiently wait, letting Tech take the lead this time. He learns from your previous movements, one of his hands coming up to gently cup your jawline, his gloved thumb stroking over your cheek. You can't help but move your head into his touch, burrowing into the curve of his palm - a gesture that turns his lips upwards into a smile.

Tech's thumb strokes over your cheek before settling on your jaw, and with his hand now steady, he leans in. This time, Tech's kiss is firmer - not harsh, but not soft, either. He seems to be a fast learner, knowing exactly how much pressure to apply to get your head spinning. Not to mention how soft his lips are, not an inch of dry skin, nor is he sloppy. If he's already kissing this good after such a short period of time, then you must be an excellent teacher!

The kiss shifts into deeper grounds as Tech slowly moves his lips against yours, mirroring the movement you did moments ago. You instinctively do the same, soon crossing the line from a simple kiss, to light snogging. If the others could see you now, they'd certainly laugh; no doubt, you two look like two awkward teenagers kissing for the first time, sitting on the edge of your seats with only the lighting from the Marauder's control panel to guide your way.

The hand on your jawline slides down your neck, fingertips brushing against your hairline. Tech's hands are becoming as curious as his lips, as the other moves from your grasp to settle on the other side of your neck. He's cradling your head, tenderly holding you there, as if he's afraid that you'll slip from his fingertips.

For once, you find yourself stumped. Your hands are currently resting on your lap, feeling awkwardly lost. You decide to let one rest on Tech's lower thigh, giving it a soft squeeze as you settle there. Tech slips out a "mhm!" at the gesture, catching him off guard. You chuckle against the kiss at his action, and Tech can't help but laugh back.

"You startled me," he mutters against your lips. Whilst his words are playful, the tone sends a shiver down your spine - his voice is dark, husk, the sort of tone that you'd expect if things were getting intimate. Whether Tech is intending to sound like that is beyond you, but hey, if he wants to kick things up a notch, then you're all for it.

Your and Tech's definition of 'friendship' has long shifted now, and seeing as you're on the boarders of something else, you decide a little teasing won't hurt. "Forgive me," you respond, speaking against his lips in a tone similar to his. Tech's reaction is instant - a visible full-body shudder. His thumbs rub back and forth against your neck, just below your ear, all whilst he's sucking in a deep breath.

"Will you mind if I attempt something else?" Tech questions. He's pulled his face away from yours, yet you're still close enough to feel each other's breaths against your skin. Tech's pupils are so dilated that you can barely see the auburn rings around them, bewildered by a series of new and exciting sensations. He must be feeling the same buzz that you are, given his enamoured demeanour.

"Go ahead," you consent. To your surprise, Tech scoots his chair back and stands, offering you a hand. You accept, and with it, you're pulled to your feet.

There's a puzzled expression on your face, but Tech soon fills you in on his next experiment. "My research stated that the body reacts differently when kissing whilst standing, in comparison to sitting. May I kiss you whilst we stand?"

"If you'd like," you agree with a soft laugh. "I wasn't expecting such a simple request."

"Ah, but such minor changes can cause a vast difference," Tech explains. His hands come to rest on the small of your back, and with that, your palms find comfort against his shoulders. You can feel his muscles tensing and relaxing under your touch, his confidence growing, but there's still a layer of nerves left to untangle.

You find yourself on tip-toes as your lips are drawn to each other, smooching in the middle of the Marauder's hallway. Curious hands are roaming the small of your back, gripping and kneading away. Your hands soon slide up to relax around Tech's neck, and before you know it, you're being guided over to one of the ship's walls.

Cold durasteel meets your shoulder blades, but despite its chill, the wall provides some much-needed stability. Your knees are already becoming weak, threatening to buckle under you and send you plummeting to the floor. Who would have guessed that Tech, a virgin in all intimate fields, is making your head spin and your heart pound in your chest? He's got you in his grasp, quite literally, and every passing moment is welcoming more new and unhinged sensations.

It seems that you're not the only person being turned into putty, as Tech moves one of his hands from your back to rest on the wall, stabling himself. Thank the Maker that he's got additional support, as a surprised whimper slips from your lips, and Tech has to stop the kiss to pull his composure together.

His eyes meet yours for a brief moment, before disappearing below your line of sight. Tech's new target is your neck, and you physically can't hold back the soft mewls and whimpers that trail from your lips. He must be lying; there's not a chance that Tech is inexperienced. No newbie should be this good!

"Tech," you find yourself sighing. You're in euphoria, blissed out to perfection, but Tech perceives your tone differently to what you intended. He removes himself from your neck, and clears his throat as he straightens his back.

"I apologise," Tech sputters, failing to meet your gaze through his goggles, that are now on a tilt. "I was getting ahead of myself. Your consent is crucial to me, and I should not be pushing your boundaries without prior discussion-"

"Tech," you repeat his name again. Finally, he looks at you, with puppy dog eyes, and his bottom lip sticking out. "I was enjoying that," you inform him, followed with a tut and a disappointed shake of your head.

Tech's expression instantly softens out as a simple, "oh," slips from his lips. "Still, I should have asked beforehand."

"You have my consent," you say with a nod. "After all, exploration is part of the learning process."

Tech lets out a dreamy sigh as he pulls you tighter against his chest. "You enamour me," he compliments, and before you can even consider a reply, his lips are back onto yours.

This time, Tech is eager to kick things up a notch. Where this will end is beyond both of you, but you're both thrilled to finally be bridging the gap. Who knew that Tech's inexperience would come in handy, even now, when he's attempting to take the lead. With a slight parting of your lips, Tech finds himself running the tip of his tongue against your bottom lip. You accept him by mirroring the gesture, and before you know it, Tech's kisses are turning sloppy, all whilst he has you pinned against the Marauder's wall.

If one of the boys were to wake up now...

Thankfully, they don’t. Or if they do, then they have the decency to keep their mouth shut, and try to erase the strange image of you two making out in the hallway from their minds.

Between the open-mouthed kisses, you manage to throw in a compliment. "You're a faster learner," you say with a heavy sigh, peering up at Tech through half-lidded eyes.

Tech moves his hands up to cup your jawline, such a tender act during a passionate moment. He gazes into your eyes, causing your head to spin so fast that you have to hold on to his forearms to stable yourself. "I have an excellent teacher," Tech responds with a sweet smile.

And with that, he's kissing you again. Tech bends downwards, his hands meeting the back of your thighs with a soft squeeze. You know what he wants, and soon, you're clambering up into his lap, wrapping your thighs around his waist. The expert kisser - Tech - doesn't break his lips from yours as he moves over to the control panel, resting you there, two mugs of caf long forgotten about beside you.

Your legs remain wrapped around his waist, fingertips now entwining themselves with the soft curls of his hair. The quiet beep of your wristwatch goes off, only to be instantly silenced with a slap of your hand. You're meant to be waking up the next squad member for their shift on the night watch, but there isn't any need for that.

Let them rest, because you're bound to be up all night.

[neon-junkie]

Fractured

Summary: Tech's recent injury has led him to your Medical Bay, and despite you being excellent at your job, Tech needs additional assistance with easing the pain. You have something fun in mind.

Pairing: Tech x gn!Reader

Tags: Medical assistance, Fractured bones, Medic Reader, Friends to lovers, Oral (giving,) Handjobs, Size kink, Cock worship, Large cocks, Flirting, Pain relief.

Word count: 5.1k

Notes: This is set after Episode 1&2 of Season 2. I actually started writing this back when those episodes aired, but then… depression… lol I have never broken/fractured a bone before (alpha genes,) so I have no idea what actually goes on when you break one lol. I did my research, but… IDK, this is probs off, but you're not here for the medical side of things, are you? Also, I like the idea of nerds with big dicks. I don't really care about size IRL, but Tech with an absolute unit of a cock? Yeah, sign me the fuck up!!!

"You got squished like a bug."

"I did not-" Tech cuts himself off. "Like a bug? Please, restrain yourself from making such comedic remarks about my pain and suffering."

With that, Tech lets out a grunt, and you're unsure if it's at your remark, or an outlet from the pain that he's currently in.

Tech was squished like a bug during the last mission. Splat! As you so put it, after Tech explained what exactly happened in that war chest. The force of a thousand suns flattened his poor leg, and his thigh soaked up most of the damage.

That's what he gets for not wearing thigh armour.

That comment didn't go down well, either. However, Tech should know by now that your wit and sarcasm will never fail you. You have, after all, been running with the Batch long before the Clone Wars fizzled out into… whatever this is, The Galactic Empire, and those who opposite it.

If only Hunter would allow you and the others to join the fight…

Back onto the topic. Tech was carried into the Marauder's medical wing, with Echo's assistance, and left on the medical bed for you to check him over. He was hissing and wincing as he pushed himself up onto the table, his hands flexing whilst he gripped onto his thigh, and pleading eyes met yours as he began going over the series of events.

You were stationed with Hunter and Wrecker, seeing as Wrecker is your loyalist customer when it comes to injuries, only Tech has taken you by surprise!

"It's definitely fractured," you state as you dig through your medical kit, finding something exciting to dial down the pain. Tech has stated that he'd prefer to remain awake, which is understandable, seeing as you won't be stitching him up, or worse, cutting him open.

"I assume I'll have to lounge around with a cast on for the next six weeks?" Tech questions, his eyes watching you as you read over a few labels, deciding which drugs to supply.

"Minimum," you say with a soft nod, half-focused on his words. "These will do," you decide, holding the pill bottle in one hand, whilst the other shuts your medical box.

You turn to face Tech, and with a nonchalant expression, you order, "take off your pants."

Tech's eyes blink wide beneath his goggles, and he lets out a sheepish cough before asking, "pardon?"

"I can't do an X-ray with your pants still on, and do you really want your cast applied over those jeans?" you point to his new pants - casual, straight jeans, which surely can't be comfortable to work in?

Forgive him. It's his first time out in the Galaxy, and a newly freed man is bound to make poor decisions. Live and learn, Tech…

"Oh," Tech mutters. "Understood."

You hand him the pill bottle first, along with a glass of water, and give Tech a strict order to take his drugs before stripping off. "I'll give you some privacy, call for me when you're ready," you inform, and leave the medical wing, the door swishing shut behind you.

Sure, you've seen Tech in all sorts of states, almost naked that one time, back when you were new. Wrecker had found it hilarious to fiddle with the refresher's water supply as Tech went to take a shower, and poor Tech, who was rather reserved when first meeting you, had to leave the refresher with only a towel around his waist. He had barked at Wrecker to, "leave the hot water supply alone! Are you attempting to impress our newest member? Or perhaps, make a fool of me? Both? Do you find this amusing?!" blah blah blah…

-

Minutes have passed, and you overhear Tech calling out, "you may come in."

The door swishes open, and you're greeted by Tech in the same position on the medical bed, relaxing back against the headboard. An untidy pile of armour and clothing has appeared on the floor, not that he has the ability to neatly organise them.

Tech remains in just his turtleneck under armour, his fingertips currently running along the neckline, picking at its tightness. He's wearing a standard pair of briefs, nothing enticing, and the hemline thankfully stops above the X-ray zone. Great! You don't fancy having to order Tech to remove those as they're in the way…

As for the last item of clothing, they're-

"Tech," you speak with firmness. "Are those my socks?"

Tech stops picking at his neckline to gawk down at his feet. His wiggles his toes mindlessly as he sheepishly mumbles, "it appears they are."

"Is that so?" you repeat with a raised brow.

Tech's pleading eyes come out again as he meets your gaze. "I could not find a pair of my own this morning, and seeing as we were in a rush, I opted for the next best thing."

Your eyes trail from his to look at your socks once more, the little tookas on them smiling at you. They're fuzzy, warm and snuggly, and not the sort of item that you ever thought you'd see on Tech.

Omega? Perhaps.

Wrecker? Definitely.

But Tech?

"The next best thing," you repeat his words again. "I'm surprised that you picked the tookas over the voorpaks."

Tech scoffs. "Tookas are the obvious choice. Whilst voorpaks may be pleasing to the eye, they're needy, with no consideration for personal space. Tookas, on the other hand, are far more independent animals, with a…" Tech shuts his mouth, and nervously licks his lips before asking, "I'm rambling again, aren't I?"

"A sign that the drugs have kicked in," you say with a shrug. "Time to X-ray!"

Tech lets out a defeated sigh, and watches as you set up the X-ray machine. It's a numbing and dull task, but needed, seeing as such a smart man has managed to get himself injured.

The X-ray is taken, and you leave Tech to his own devices as you begin processing the scan at your desk. Whilst you wait for the image to form, you check on a few other things, and in the corner of your eye, you notice how Tech fails to sit still.

His fingertips are running along his neckline again, attempting to find fresh air, even though his under armour has never seemed restricting before. A light glisten of sweat is sitting above his brow, and whenever Tech's hands stray from his neckline, they rest directly on his lap. His fingertips begin fidgeting with the hem of his briefs, only for his eyes to meet yours, and his hands to fall motionless.

"Are you alright?" you question.

"F-fine," Tech mutters. "Just awaiting the results."

With that, the scan is processed, and you hum to yourself as you study it. Tech doesn't look away from you; he studies your reaction, and his shoulders drop with relief as yours do. "It's not as bad as I thought," you state as you rise from your desk. "I'll apply a cast, and unfortunately for you, you'll be bound to the Marauder for the next few weeks."

"Charming," Tech huffs.

You put together a bowl of warm soapy water, and hand it over to Tech, along with a towel. "Give your thigh a good scrub. It'll be the last time it's cleaned until the cast can come off."

Tech follows your orders, and leaves you to begin putting the cast supplies together. He's letting out soft grumbles as he scrubs himself down, not applying much pressure, seeing as bruises have already begun forming.

Within minutes, you're ready, and Tech is attempting to dry his thigh. The bowl of water is discarded, and you softly mutter, "here," as you take the towel from him. "Let me help."

With your order, Tech slowly bends his leg, raising his knee high enough so that you can gently dry the underside of his thigh - a task that he was struggling to do alone. He's still wincing as you dab over the area, but nowhere near as much as he was when tending to himself. It seems you're light on your touch, and Tech is silently thankful for it.

"Keep your leg bent like that," you instruct as you dispose of the towel, and bring your cast supplies over to the workbench.

You gently run your palm over Tech's thigh, questioning if his skin is dry enough to begin the application, and only now do you realise the predicament that you're in.

You're no stranger to Tech's good looks - impeccable cheekbones, a toned chest, nimble fingers, adorable doe eyes, and a hairline so sharp that it can slice through beskar - but the issue is purely that, his good looks. You're attempting to work, and the sensation of your fingertips dancing through the light hair on his tanned thighs is causing quite the distraction.

You scoot your stool over to the medical bed, and adjust the height. Once seated, you let out a deep sigh before beginning your work, attempting to keep your eyes on his forming bruises, rather than allowing it to wander… higher…

Tech looks down at you, quite literally, watching through his tinted goggles as you begin binding his leg, paying special attention to any signs of discomfort - not that he shows any. His fingertips are subconsciously entwining with each other, fidgeting, and attempting to cover up his briefs out of politeness. It's not that you've never seen Tech, or any of the boys in their undies before, but your face is less than half a meter from his crotch, and you're both well aware.

A huff flows from your lips as you fix the soft material in place, the easy part over and done with. Now, it's time to wet the plaster, and apply it one strip at a time - a lengthy process, seeing as you have to wait for each layer to dry before continuing.

As time goes on, you both seem to relax, becoming accustomed to your new-found closeness. Tech even strikes up a light conversation, filling you in on his side of the mission, and speaking highly about the civilian that he met on the way.

"He called me Ace," Tech informs you, "not that I had any issue with it. I found the nickname rather appealing."

Your eyes trail up to meet his, and a soft laugh slips from your lips as you repeat, "Ace?"

"I think it suits me," Tech says with a shrug. "Besides…"

His words continue, shifting into comforting background noise as you do your job. At least Tech is comfortable with you; when you first met, he'd only ever correct you, or information dump on you. Now, you can hold a conversation, seeing as you managed to win him over after correcting him on a minor detail a few weeks into being stationed with the Batch.

The more Tech mutters, the more his form relaxes. His hands move from his lap to adjust his goggles, not that they probably need it, and you can't help but notice something in the corner of your eye.

In hindsight, this was your fault. You shouldn't have looked. You should have kept your focus on your work, and prevented your eyes from prying at Tech's crotch. He is, after all, a grown man sitting in his underwear, with a pretty Medic rubbing their hands along his bare thigh. Tech is a soldier, and it's a known fact that soldiers don't have much leisure time, let alone spare time to do… stuff.

Your lips fall apart, and every circuit in your brain fries within an instant. Your hands, wet and covered in plaster, come to a halt in the middle of a wrap, and all you can focus on is… that.

Tech, after adjusting his goggles, instantly falls silent as he notices that you've come to a halt. He calls out your name, and despite his exceptional mind, it takes him a few moments to realise what's caused you to stop like a deer in the headlights.

"Oh," Tech sheepishly sighs as he puts two and two together. "I…" he stutters, but words fail him. So, thinking on his feet (and fractured leg) he returns his hands to his lap, covering up the issue.

Only now do you realise that you're a karking idiot. Seriously, why did you have to stare?! Why couldn't you have turned away, blushed, and continued working?

You go to apologise, but Tech beats you to it. "I apologise… It's… It's not intentional-" he sputters.

You let out a soft sigh, and shake your head in an attempt to slap some sense into your dense brain. "Tech," you mumble his name, and after blinking heavily, you look up at him.

Tech, with cheeks so bright that they outshine the suns, fails to make eye contact. He's breathing deeply, and mentally questioning if it's possible for him to run away from his problems, even with a half-finished, wet cast around his thigh.

Instead, Tech defends himself even more, seeing as the first option isn't doable. "I have been attempting to control myself this entire time, but it seems my-"

"-Tech," you call out to him again.

Tech finally meets your gaze, but only for a moment. He can't maintain eye contact, he simply can't, that is, until you state something that has his mind spinning in confusion.

"You're huge."

"P-pardon?" Tech sputters, followed by coughing into the back of his hand. That is not what he was expecting to fall from your lips.

You wave your hands defensively, droplets of plaster falling onto the medical bed. "I mean, it's alright, you can't help it," you sputter. Now, you're the one struggling to maintain eye contact, your mind fogging up, clouded with one simple thought.

"Can't help what?" Tech questions. "My erection? Or my size?"

A timid laugh flows from your lips, "I meant your erection, but both, I guess…"

Tech laughs with you, although it's clear that he's nervous. Whatever this is - intimacy, of some form - is new. You're no stranger to light flirting with your boys, and often receiving it in return, but holy Maker. Tech is rock solid, and there is no denying that you're the cause of it; the evidence is right there!

"Well…" Tech's words fall flat, and after adjusting his goggles, he gears up again. Rather than sit in silence, mutually starstruck over the unit sitting in Tech's pants, Tech decides to ramble as much as humanly possible. "…I have chalked my size up as a side effect from my enhancements. There are multiple documented cases that the standard clones all share the same erection size. I am, however, beyond those standards."

"Wait-" you cut him short with a soft laugh. "-There are documented cases of what?"

Tech lets out a chuckle, and shakes his head in awe that he's having to bring this information to light. "It's no secret that we clones have had intimate relationships, and some partners like to… how should I say it? Discuss their experiences with others on the holonet."

You repeat Tech's motions, softly laughing and shaking your head, amazed over this new information. "You mean, people like to jump on the holonet and discuss which Troopers kriff the best?"

"That is one way of putting it, yes."

"Dank farrik," you laugh. You mean, the information that you've been curious about this entire time, has been on the holonet at your disposal? Idiot! Why didn't you simply search for it?

There's no denying that you're attracted to both your squad, and their regular brothers, and as always, curiosity wanders… At least some beings were smart enough to post their findings on the net, along with… whatever else might be on there. You make a mental note to check it out later!

"What were you doing on those sites?" you question, and decide to start working again, seeing as the plaster is slowly drying on your fingertips.

To your surprise, Tech's emotions remain calm as he mindlessly replies, "I was researching my… ahem, abnormality."

"I see…" you conclude. Curious for more, you take a gamble, and up your flirting game. "Has anybody started a thread for Clone Force 99?" you say with a soft purr, causing Tech's ears to perk up as blush begins to form across his cheeks.

"I…" Tech stutters. "Not that I am aware of, no," he says with a nervous chuckle.

Still with wet plaster on your hands, you put on a cheeky grin as you ask, "we could fill in the blank."

Your name comes stumbling out of Tech's mouth as all the heat in his body rises to his cheeks. "You cannot be serious!" He sweats, refusing to maintain eye contact. Nervous hands fiddle with the hemline of his shirt, wringing the fabric tightly in his bare palms, all whilst still attempting to cover up the topic in the room.

"I am," you say with a shrug. "I mean, I've just about seen yours," you gesture to his erection, hidden behind a thin layer of fabric, yet bold enough to make your imagination dance.

"M-Maker," Tech stutters once more. "Where are those pills?"

You laugh as Tech fumbles about with the pill bottle at his side, sliding another one out into the palm of his hand. He doesn't even bother swigging it down with water, dry swallowing the pill like an absolute mad man. "You do know those pills are to ease your pain, right?" you state whilst wrapping another layer around his leg.

"I am certainly in some form of pain. Although I am unsure of the exact type," he sighs, and finally takes a sip of water, correcting his prior mistake.

Biting back a laugh, you suggest, "painfully hard?"

Tech lets out a long and frustrated sigh, meeting your gaze as his shoulders drop in disappointment. "Hilarious," he sarcastically replies, pinching his brow in annoyance.

With a smirk on your lips, you boldly look down at his erection. "It sure seems like you are," you comment, then continue your focus on applying his cast, nearing the end. "You know, sexual pleasure can help ease the pain, and act as a good distraction," you hint, bringing the fact to light. If Tech wants more, then this is his opportunity to take it.

"As delightful as that sounds, penetration would be near impossible in my current state," he gestures to his leg, as if it couldn't be any more obvious.

"There are things that you can do besides penetration, Tech."

Whilst watching you apply the final layer, Tech moves a hand up, fingertips meeting his chin. His brows are furrowed, a sign that he's in deep thought. "You are correct," he hums, before crossing his arms across his chest. "Although I have to question if partaking in such an act will adjust our friendship, and our status within this squad."

"Only if you want it to," you respond, and begin cleaning up, allowing Tech's new cast to dry. "The way I see it, I'm just helping a friend out."

"Well, when you put it like that…" Tech ponders, shifting into deep thought.

Silence fills the air, and yet, you can practically hear Tech's brain ticking away. He's panning everything together, questioning every minor detail, move, motive. Sure, you are helping him out, but wouldn't this lead to other things? Would either of you catch feelings? Have you already caught feelings?

Tech's eyes flick between the pill bottle, and you. He studies you, letting out a soft hum as you tidy up, putting all your equipment away after washing your hands. "I can feel your gaze on me, Tech," you comment, not bothering to look up from your current task.

"Sorry," Tech exhales. "You do have a valid point. This… sexual favour would indeed assist in relieving my pain, yet I cannot accept such a gesture without reciprocating it."

"Let's say that you owe me one, and I can redeem it whenever I see fit," you suggest. You perch yourself on the edge of the medical bed, your form resting against Tech's undamaged thigh. Gently, you tap your fingertips on his cast, testing to see if the material has dried through. "You're all set. So, what do you say?" you offer with a raised brow.

Tech firmly shakes his head in agreement, "I accept your assistance."

"Great," you purr. Your hand comes to rest on his chest, instantly making the man beneath your palm nervous, and he doesn't bother to hide it. "But what do you want me to do, Tech?" you ask, drumming your fingertips against him.

Licking his lips, Tech's eyes wander down to where your hand is resting, before coming up to meet your alluring gaze. "Perhaps you… could possibly…"

"Spit it out," you tut.

"Just… touch me," Tech finally manages to spit his demands out, all whilst looking like he's about to faint. "Your hand alone will be more than suffice," he adds in an apologetic tone, as if he's embarrassed about what has just slipped from his lips.

Eager to see him burst, you ask, "do you want my mouth too?"

"Oh stars."

Tech, the most calm, calculated, and captivating man that you've ever met, is currently turning into putty beneath your fingertips. You've not even touched him, well, at least not in that way, and he looks like he's about to ejaculate at any moment! Maybe it's the pain relief pills that he's taken, or maybe it's because he has a secret crush on you. The answer, you'll never know. All you can do is work with what you've got - a whimpering mess of a man.

"You don't have to answer that yet. Let's just start with my hand," you answer for him. Tech watches through his thick lenses as the hand on his chest begins to trail south, over his lower ribs, across his soft stomach, and now meeting his hips.

Gently, you rest your hand atop of his erection, and Tech just about moans at the minor contact. "I apologise," he sputters, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth.

"Don't apologise, I want you to be vocal," you coo. "Well, maybe keep it down a bit, unless you want the others over-hearing?"

Tech shakes his head, then returns his eyes to watching the action. Your strokes are gentle, yet firm, the complete opposite of Tech's rising chest. Is he a virgin? Or has it been a while? Either way, you begin matching his pathetic state once his briefs are adjusted, and Tech's cock is finally free.

"Kriff," you whimper, eyeing up Tech in all his glory. Maker, you weren't expecting such a slender man to be packing so much heat! Sure, it looked rather large when hidden behind his briefs, but now it's here, throbbing in your hand.

You begin pumping his length, slow at first, until finding your rhythm. All the while, Tech is a panting mess, his gaze flicking between your expression, and what's happening between his legs. He all about caves when you slowly trail a blob of spit down onto his tip, lubricating his cock as you continue jerking it.

"This is going to be the death of me," Tech pants. His head rolls back to rest on the headboard, whilst his hands come up to hide his face. He groans into his palms, the odd muscle in his body twitching as pleasure washes through him. When Tech finally does remove his hands from his face, his goggles are on a slight tilt, and surprisingly, he doesn't bother fixing them.

"Oh?" you say with a quirked brow. "I can make things much worse."

"Do enlighten me," Tech suggests, gazing at you through half-lidded eyes.

"How about I show you instead?"

All Tech can do is nod eagerly, yet he fails to prepare himself for what's about to come. (Or who's about to come.)

It's an awkward position, but after readjusting yourself to lie on your side, you manage to make do. Tech's eyes widen as you move your mouth closer to his cock, soon introducing your tongue to the tip. He moans your name, followed by a painful wince.

"Stop putting pressure on your thigh," you look up at him, cock in hand. "That defeats the purpose of my assistance."

In hindsight, you should have propped a pillow beneath his ankle, but something was preventing you from thinking rationally!

Tech mumbles a, "sorry," whilst looking at you with pleading eyes. You know what he wants, and who are you to deny it? You continue introducing your tongue to his tip, his shoulders instantly relaxing at the minor contact.

You soon find yourself sucking the tip, your hand working magic on the rest of his shaft. Already, there's an ache in your jaw, and you silently question how you're going to make this fit… No matter, you'll do what you can, and all efforts seem to be highly appreciated by Tech, who is reaching the state of debauchery as every second passes.

Through the chaos of spit and slobber, a tender hand comes out to rest on the back of your head. The other one finds your free hand, and Tech makes an effort to entwining his fingers with yours. You vocalise your appreciation to his gentle gesture by humming, only that causes Tech to stir. The sensation of vibrations running along his cock earns you another series of pathetic whimpers, and you, being the mischievous devil that you are, decide to only make things harder for him.

Slipping his cock from your lips, you continue pumping the shaft whilst your mouth wanders south. You slip one of his balls in your mouth, gently sucking on it. Tech's mind quite literally explodes! The hand on the back of your head grabs a fistful of your hair, although he is careful as to not hurt you. His other hand, however, removes itself from your palm to grip on the edge of the bed, a desperate attempt at steadying himself.

"Easy boy," you coo, before focusing on his other testicle.

"I c-can't…" Tech sputters. "I cannot hold on any longer, please," he whimpers, begging for what?

"Tell me what you need," you instruct.

"T-To finish… inside your mouth, if you'd be s-so kind," Tech blurts out, his thigh muscles twitching with want. So much for helping ease his pain, hm?

Removing your mouth from him, you peer up to meet his gaze. Tech's hair is askew, loose strands hanging forwards against his flushed face. Desperation is clear in his eyes, although it's laced with warmth and admiration. Tech was right, you two aren't just going to be friends after this, and quite honestly, you're fine with that.

"How can I ever deny you?" you flirt, earning a sigh from Tech. That sigh shifts into a moan as you slip your lips over his tip, and work your mouth to its limit.

Your name is on repeat, drifting from Tech's lips like a prayer. In the back of his mind, he's thanking this strange turn of events. If he wasn't in that war chest, then none of this would have happened, and the pain is most definitely worth it.

A few pumps of Tech's shaft, and he loses himself in the warmth of your mouth. Tech has to remove his hand from your hair to bite his knuckles, a poor attempt of silencing his final moans. The Marauder does not have soundproof walls, so you two will need to come up with a story for when you finally decide to enter the medical wing, and regroup with the Batch.

"Thank you," Tech repeats, over and over, panting as if he's just run a marathon. He looks exhausted, yet you're the one doing all the hard work!

After removing your mouth from his tip, you swallow his load, which only causes Tech to fall even deeper into admiration. "How do you feel?" you ask whilst grabbing the glass of water, left forgotten on the workbench besides the medical bed.

"Euphoric," Tech responds without missing a beat. "The pain was worth it," he adds.

"Are you still in pain?" you ask, offering him what's left of the water.

He swiftly responds, "no," before downing the rest. "You seemed to have worked wonders on me," Tech comments.

You let out a soft chuckle, and rise to your feet, eager to get out of the awkward position. After wiping your mouth dry with a towel, you assist in cleaning Tech up, not that he needs it. It's his leg that's fractured, not his cock, but you're too sweet on the poor man. "You need rest," you comment as you tuck his cock away, putting his unit to bed within the confinement of his briefs.

Tech ponders, and only now does he straighten out his wonky goggles. "I have already asked so much of you, but I have one last request."

"Let's hear it?"

"I… require some assistance with getting to my bunk," Tech sheepishly asks, earning a laugh from you.

"Of course I'll help you with that!"

It's quite the task, seeing as Tech has the upper hand when it comes to height, but you manage to help him to his feet, swinging an arm across your neck for extra stability. You turn to leave the medical wing, until something crosses your mind. Gesturing to the pain relief pills, you state, "you'll probably be needing these."

A smug grin creeps over Tech's lips. "Oh, I don't think I will," he flirts. This time, you're the one blushing, yet you agree with his statement.

Hobbling down the Marauder, Tech's cabin soon comes to your reach, and before you know it, you're helping him into bed. Thank the Maker that the others have retired for the night, hopefully none of them heard that!

After removing Tech's shirt, a pillow is placed under his ankle, providing extra comfort throughout the night. You retrieve him a glass of water, re-entering his cabin to see that he's tucked himself under the covers, his goggles lying on the bedside table.

"Do you need anything else?" you offer, soon expecting to be in your own bunk. It has been a long day, and you're oh-so-eager for your own rest.

"Actually, I was thinking…" Tech trails off, which causes you to raise your brow. "Surely you should spend the night here with me? You know, in case I require support throughout the night-"

"-I know what you're hinting at, Tech," you say with a light laugh, shaking your head at him. "You don't need an excuse, but sure, we can use that when the others ask why I'm leaving your cabin tomorrow morning."

Tech chuckles, watching eagerly as you strip down into your underwear, soon joining him in bed. You're greeted by his stretched out arm, offering you a cuddle, which you gladly accept, all whilst keeping his injury in mind.

"Goodnight, Tech," you exhale, resting your hand on his chest as your head finds its place within the curve of his neck.

"Goodnight," Tech repeats, holding you tightly.

"And remember, I owe you…"

[neon-junkie]

After Dark - Chpt.1

Summary: Tucked away in a lower level of Coruscant, Crosshair finds himself in a bar that he frequents - not for the drinks, nor the music, but for one woman, and one woman alone.

After months of silent encounters and flirtatious glances, Crosshair finally plucks up the courage to approach her.

Hopefully, she reciprocates his admiration.

Pairing: Crosshair x f!Reader

Rating: SFW (but will end NSFW)

Word count: 2k

Tags: Slow burn, Multi-chapter, Strangers to lovers, Flirting, Drinking, Dates.

Notes: Inspired by After Dark by Mr. Kitty - a favourite song of mine that reminds me of Crosshair.

I've been slowly working on this for a few months, and I figured I should at least post the first chapter lol. Curse depression for killing my motivation to write :(

She's here. Again.

That girl at the bar, sitting alongside her friends, chatting away in between the soft glances in his direction.

Crosshair's local watering hole, sometimes accompanied by his brothers, is a dingy dive bar near the lower levels of Coruscant. It's no 79's, far from it. Fuck that place, with its thumping music, overprices drinks, and hoards of regular clones. The Batch prefer to drink somewhere quieter - Crosshair prefers to drink somewhere quieter.

He's alone tonight, dressed in a crisp shirt and pressed pants, looking far too tasteful for a man who is simply out for a few drinks by himself. He's always been a fan of his own company, secluded in his usual little corner, a half-empty glass of bourbon sitting on his table. Within a couple of minutes, he'll finish the last swigs, and order yet another.

Crosshair never drinks heavily, a handful of doubles, and then he's gone. He'll stay in this bar for, what? An hour? Two at the most? He just needs some quiet time to himself, an escape from the rush of war and destruction, but coming to this particular bar wasn't his choice.

Back when the Batch were first deployed, and they returned to Coruscant after their first successful missions, they celebrated by going out on a bar crawl. Wrecker's idea, and seeing as they were still young and dumb(er), they all agreed to it.

One thing led to another, and they stumbled upon this place by chance. It's quiet, with soft music playing faintly through the speakers, a range of guests who keep to themselves, and shitty decor that was in dire need of a refurbishment a hundred years ago. But most importantly - they serve clones.

The Batch were only meant to have one drink here, one and done, then onto the next bar! Until a group of ladies entered the venue, a particular one catching the Sniper's eye.

Crosshair has never been one to ogle, stare, fantasize, or even crush on another being. Romance is… phah! Not his thing, Wrecker's maybe, and Hunter's for sure. But Crosshair? What's the point? Wasting your time, credits, and emotions on someone who will string you along for a few months, and then dump you out of the blue. Crosshair's cynical mindset has kept him far from ever obtaining a love life.

Everything clicked into place when he saw you, a revealing dress hugging at your body, heels that were clearly new from their lack of scuff marks, pristine hair and makeup, and a cute little clutch bag hung over your shoulder. Yeah, his admiration was noticeable, as his brothers caught wind of it within an instant, and to this day, Crosshair has never lived it down.

Yet, despite all his years of training, and the woes that he had already faced, he couldn't pluck up the courage to simply… walk over to you, and say hi.

Maker, no. An elite Trooper such as himself doesn't have a lick of courage when it comes to intimacy. Or rather, he didn't. Such a thing has grown over the months that Crosshair has spent returning to this establishment, either by himself, or with one of his brothers. Never the whole pack at once, though, as they'd definitely do something to embarrass him in front of you.

But tonight's the night. Crosshair has promised himself that. Even if (when) you reject him, it'll be worth it. He tried, and he can cross 'love' off his list of things to do, and move onto the next thing.

Although, Crosshair is hopeful. He's met your gaze one too many times, flirty glances from across the room, your girls giving you the odd nudge and wink whenever they notice that Crosshair is looking your way. The void in Crosshair's chest burns with admiration after each and every minor encounter, and the butterflies in your stomach dance and flutter just the same way. Such a pleasant feeling for two people who have never spoken a word to each other.

Your girls, like his brothers, are just as eager to get you two finally talking. This must be part of one big plan, as they inform you that they're going out for a smoke, leaving you to continue sitting at the bar, watching their drinks for them.

Just as luck would have it, Crosshair finishes the last of his bourbon, the liquid courage pumping through his veins. He rises to his feet before his brain can really process what's about to happen, and as he approaches the bar, all he does is rest his hands atop the counter as he waits to be served.

He's standing right beside you, yet you're facing forward. If only you'd tilt your head to the right, and look up a little, you'd finally make close contact with the man who's been clouding your thoughts every night. Finally, you do it, looking at him, only for your words to fall flat.

Crosshair flops worse than you do, almost letting out a squeak from his cracking voice. He's nervous, but he puts in an attempt to mask that daunting emotion. "Hey," Crosshair finally settles. No cheesy pickup line, no textbook flirting, just a simple greeting in hopes that you'll at least welcome him into a conversation.

"Hey," you greet in return, matching (or attempting to match) his content demeanour. Crosshair practically shivers at your voice, smoother than any velvet that he's ever felt. And now that he's up-close, he can already feel himself getting lost within your eyes, warm pools welcoming him in, a sight that he wishes to wake up to every morning.

'Get a grip!' Crosshair reminds himself, and plays his second card. "Would you care for a drink?" he offers. It's a little stereotypical, but it makes his intentions clear.

"Only if you let me buy the next round."

Ah! Your tone, the soft sprinkle of sass. Such wit and charm, and you've only said ten words. Crosshair prays that he's met his match, someone just as dry and cynical as himself.

"It's a deal, Miss…?" Crosshair's words trail off, but his question is quickly answered as you give him your name. He nods, repeating it with grace, and then gives his own. "I'm Crosshair."

"That would explain the tattoo," you point out. Crosshair often forgets about it, the stick and poke tattoo right across his face. He wonders if you like it.

"It's my area of speciality," Crosshair explains with a light shrug. "I'm a sharpshooter for the Republic."

"A clone?" you question, and Crosshair has to bite back at hissing at the word. Ugh, don't remind him!

"To some degree," he shrugs once more, then focuses his attention to giving the bartender his order, swiftly followed up by yours.

Attempting to relax, Crosshair perches himself on the stool besides you. "And what about you?" he questions, making light conversation. You tell him your job, as dull as it can be, "but it pays the bills," you explain.

"Mhm, I know how you feel," he hums. Crosshair's eyes wander across your body, not in a perverted way, but out of sheer curiosity. "You always dress well," he finds himself complimenting without a single thought, throwing both of you off.

"Thank you," you reply with a smile. "I can say the same about you. You can't go wrong with a button-up shirt and smart pants."

Crosshair catches himself smiling. "Thanks," he responds, and for once, not with a hiss.

"You're not with your friends tonight," you point out, vaguely gesturing to the empty booth where his rowdy bunch tend to rest.

"My brothers," Crosshair corrects you. "They can be a bit… much sometimes. I enjoy coming here to get a break from them," Crosshair explains, letting his eyes roll in annoyance at those that he secretly loves.

"Is that the only reason why you come here?" you ask with a wink, causing the tips of Crosshair's ears to turn red, and the sea in his stomach to unravel into a thunderous storm. May the Maker help him, because he's starting to realise just how uneducated he is when it comes to feelings.

"You know damn-well that's not the only reason," Crosshair replies with a chuckle. "I simply adore the decor," he follows up, attempting to bring some humour to the conversation. Internally, he's cringing at his poor attempt, yet it's enough to let you laugh.

"Me too," you laugh. "There's nothing that I love more than old furniture that is soaked with alcohol!"

Crosshair laughs along with you, but with every chuckle, his stomach turns deeper with unease. Maker, he's finally here, speaking to you, and who would have thought that you'd be perfect in every way?

Then again, things are far too early for Crosshair to truly know what you're like. Hopefully, if you allow him, he'll discover who you really are within time.

Your drink being placed on the bar top catches your eye, and you don't hesitate to bring it up to your lips. "Thank you again for the drink," you comment after taking a sip.

"It's no problem," Crosshair replies with a soft shrug, helping himself to his glass of bourbon.

"Why don't we try a different bar for my round?" you suggest, which throws Crosshair off guard. This is swiftly becoming an impulsive date, not that Crosshair minds. Then again, does he? He hasn't got a clue what he's doing, but seeing as you're initiating things, he must be doing a decent job. (For now.)

"I'd like that," Crosshair agrees, being careful to use like and not love. Can't be too eager!

The sound of heels clicking against the hardwood floor draws your eyes away from the Sniper, peering over your shoulder to see that your girls have finally returned. They're nattering away as they approach you, not paying any mind, only they stop in their tracks, mouths agape, when they finally look in your direction.

Never would they have guessed that they'd be met by this sight - their friend, who they left to sit alone whilst they went outside for a smoke, is finally sitting next to that reclusive man who she gets giddy just from the sight of.

"Girls," you call out to them. With a hand raised, you gesture to your new-found friend (date?)

"This is Crosshair."

[neon-junkie]

Knee-deep in Trouble

Summary: If there's one thing worse than being stuck in a snow storm, it's being stuck in a snow storm with your least favourite squad mate - Crosshair.

Pairing: Crosshair x gn!Reader

Word count: 2.6k

Tags: Enemies to friends, Huddling for warmth, Snow storms, Arguments, Bickering, Sleepy cuddles, Touch starved.

Notes: the recent episode got me THINKIN. yeah, i wanna cuddle this man, but... what if we hated each others guts? and we HAVE to cuddle for our own survival? mwahahah

Out of all the scenarios that could have happened today, this one just had to arise.

First, you were cut off from the rest of the Batch. Your comm lost signal as the snowstorm began to thicken, and all hopes of communicating the others dwindled as your main focus became finding shelter.

Your armour is only doing so much to keep you warm, and only now do you curse yourself for not opting for a helmet. A thick hood, scarf, and goggles are doing well at protecting your face, but the chill continues to seep into your bones as every second passes.

And even now, knee-deep in snow, trudging towards the mountain in hopes of finding some sort of shelter, you still manage to bark up another argument with your least favourite member of the Batch. "Hurry up," Crosshairs words are sharp, peering over his shoulder for a short moment to see you following behind. You're using his tracks to your advantage, pushing through the loose snow, allowing him to take the lead like a bulldozer.

You let out a grunt, "not all of us have stupidly long legs." Crosshair doesn't bother replying. There's no point. Instead, he pushes forward, and keeps his helmet dipped down to protect his sights from the incoming snow. Minutes pass, although time has blurred into one. All you've known for the last thirty minutes is to push forward, keep walking, and follow Crosshair's trail. Through your goggles, all you can see is white - thick heaps of snow that only continues to pile higher and higher. The mountain is now within your reach, and you follow the edge, waiting for some form of shelter to appear.

"This will do," Crosshair comments as he comes upon an assortment of boulders, providing some shelter from the storm. With a frown, you let out a disappointed, "is this it?" as you gesture to the tiny crevices that will barely keep you covered, let alone warm.

Despite not being able to see Crosshair's expression, you know he's scowling as he gestures to the surrounding area. "Do you see any other options?"

No, you don't, but you're not going to give up hope. "I'm going to push on," you say as you turn back to him, and vaguely gesture into the distance. Surely there will be a cave up ahead, or a cliff that provides cover. There must be something better than some rogue boulders.

Pushing through the snow, Crosshair grabs at your forearm with a tut. "You will not," he scolds. "We need to stick together. This is as good as it's going to get," Crosshair points to the 'shelter,' and you pull your hand from his in disgust, let out a grumble with it. "I'm going," you repeat. "You can sit with your boulder buddies and freeze to death. I'll find a cave, get warm, then collect your body once the storm has passed." With that, you continue moving forwards, unbothered if Crosshair chooses to follow. His lips purse in annoyance, and he's rather vocal about his frustration. Still, he follows you, telling himself that it's purely for the fact that you're going to get yourself killed, and he'll be the one collecting bodies. The mountain itself would provide decent cover, if it wasn't for the fact that the snow is falling against your direction. One gloved hand comes up to move your scarf higher on your face, tucking the edges beneath your goggles to prevent it from slipping down again. At least your nose is warm, the complete opposite to your toes.

Despite his armour's heating system, Crosshair is now really starting to feel the chill. His teeth are clattering together beneath his helmet, and every so often, his fingertips brush over one of his belt pouches. Inside are the tools necessary to start a fire, and he'll be damned if those tools are somehow taken from him, despite never falling out of his pocket before. Your feet come to a halt, and Crosshair, who isn't looking up, bumps into your back with a grumble. "What is it?" he groans as you look over your shoulder, silently cursing him for running into you without an apology. "What does that look like?" you point ahead. Crosshair squints through his visor, before flicking his helmet's scope down to zoom in on the area up ahead. "A cave," he mutters.

"I told you I was right," you shrug, and you're met with another grumble. "Don't let it get to your head," Crosshair huffs as he pushes past you, eager to get out of this knee-deep snow. With a roll of your eyes, you follow behind, allowing Crosshair to clear the last stretch of your journey. The cave is deep, stretching far deeper than you require. You only need shelter, not another adventure, so you and Crosshair pitch yourselves several meters from the entrance. For the first time in what feels like hours, snow and wind is no longer against you; all you need to do now is stay warm, and stay alive.

Once his helmet is removed, Crosshair crouches down and begins pulling supplies from his belt pouch. It's standard GAR equipment, but it's enough to get a fire up and running, and hopefully, keep it burning for longer than you need. However, once lit, the flame is... disappointing. "Is that it?" you sigh, looking at the meek fire at your feet. Crosshair looks up at you whilst feeding the remains of his supplies to the flame, encouraging it to grow, even if it's just a little. Despite the tiny flicker of light, your goggles begin to steam up, so they're reassigned to sitting on your forehead, allowing you to give your eyes a well-needed rub, and relax your scarf around your neck. "This pack is usually only assigned to one person," Crosshair replies, watching you sit down opposite him. You know that the clones are kitted with essentials to survive, which would explain why Crosshair only has enough for himself. If only you had your backpack with you - the backpack that is sitting back on the Marauder, because this mission was meant to be a simple retrieval, until you wound up separated from the others, and lost in a snow storm. "It's better than nothing, I suppose." Crosshair lets out a simple, "mhm," as he gets comfortable opposite you.

Silence fills the air, minus the howling winds coming from down the cave. Silence - as in, the silence between you and Crosshair - is common. You've never really seen eye to eye, both too stubborn for your own good. Maybe that's why he went after you when the Batch split up, covering different routes as part of your mission. He must have known that you would wind up in trouble, which is why he told Wrecker to go with Hunter instead, pairing himself up with you. You are his squad mate, after all. Far from a friend, but still an asset to the team. "What is it?" Crosshair questions, and only now do you realise that you've been staring at him.

"Nothing," you reply with a firm shake of your head. Crosshair's eyes squint for a brief moment, before he decides to bite his tongue, and not bother pushing your buttons. (For once.) "Why don't you get some rest?" Crosshair suggests, which might be his first good suggestion of the day. Maker knows how long this storm will brew for, and you need to be physically prepared for more trudging through that snow, which must be thigh high at this point.

"Only if you do the same," you reply. Such kind words cause Crosshair's eyes to widen, only for a moment, before he pulls his emotional mask back on. There's no need for either of you to be on watch, and despite your disliking for the man, the bags under his eyes are as heavy as yours. Rest is needed, for both of you.

"You first. I'll follow," Crosshair replies with a soft nod. "I want to finish warming myself up first." With a light sigh, you shift onto your side, pulling your knees up against your chest. The fire is warm against your face, and hopefully, it'll continue to warm the rest of your body up as you sleep. Your hood acts as the thinnest pillow in existence, but it's thick enough to keep the chill of the cave floor away from your ear, and you'll take what you can get. Finally, your lases flutter shut, and it doesn't take eternity for you to drift into a deep slumber.

-

Crosshair is loitering.

Why? He doesn't really know. You've been asleep for an hour, and in that time, Crosshair has cleaned the snow from his armour and rifle, wandered deeper into the cave to find the remains of another campfire, long forgotten, and scavenged the leftovers from it. The fire is eating away at new material, yet Crosshair is still huddling close to it, as if it's a fading source of warmth. There's a chill in his bones that he can't seem to shake off. No matter what he does, no matter how warm he feels on the surface, his insides feel cold. With slanted brows, he brings his knees up to his chest, and wraps his armoured arms around his thighs. Silver hair rests against his forearm as he presses his cheek to his knees, breathing deeply as his eyes shut. He can't relax. He can't warm up. Crosshair thinks, questioning what to do. He's oh-so-tense, and his muscles are long worn out from shivering. However, it seems he's not the only person who has a chill within them. Crosshair's eyes perk open at the sound of whimpering. There, on the cave floor, is you, sound asleep; only you're not sound asleep. You're shivering, curled up in a ball besides the fire, struggling to maintain heat in the depths of your slumber. Untucking himself from his position, Crosshair pulls his glove off to press his palm against your cheek. There's barely any warmth to you, and it's a mystery how you've not woken up. Crosshair has found himself in a predicament. Despite not being the best of friends, Crosshair doesn't want you, nor himself, to freeze to death. The fire is growing, but it's still not enough for either of you. He has an idea - a silly, foolish idea that you're bound to hate him even more for - but he can't bring himself to wake you up and offer the suggestion.

Well, what if he doesn't have to wake you? A deep grumble slips from his lips as he ponders his options. Surely you'll understand, right? It's not like there are any other options, and you can't hate him any more than you already do.

With that, Crosshair slips his glove back on and rises to his feet. He walks over to you, tilting his head as he analyses your curled up pose, questioning how he can fit with you - like pieces to a puzzle. He's quiet as he dips down to his knees, tucking his body behind yours. Crosshair remains propped up on one elbow, and cautiously positions his legs around yours, followed by his torso. You've barely shifted in your sleep, jittering away whilst soft huffs slip from your lips, only your whimpering seems to calm as Crosshair places his hand around your waist, ensuring that it's firmly in the centre of your torso, not wondering north or south. With that, he shifts himself off his elbow, allowing his head to rest against the cave floor. This isn't his first time sleeping on the floor, nor stone floor, for that matter; still, it's uncomfortable, but he'll take what he can get. After letting out a deep breath, Crosshair finally bites the bullet. Using the arm wrapped around your waist, Crosshair pulls your body against his, fitting perfectly together. He's cuddling you, in some form or other, but there are instant results. Your jittering is coming to an end, and somehow, Crosshair is already managing to feel warmth growing inside his chest.

Or are those butterflies?

Whatever. He allows his eyes to fall shut, and finally gets some rest.

-

It's not often that you drool in your sleep. However, this is one of those few occasions. The sensation of your drool dripping over your cheek shakes your body awake, and through groggy vision, you move a hand off your pillow to wipe your spit away. Your arm returns to your pillow, clutching onto it tighter as you pull it against your chest. Something firm is pressed to your cheek - firm, yet warm, like plastoid armour on a-

Wait.

You let out a soft, "huh?" as your eyes open, soon focusing on familiar red and black armour. Somebody's chest plate is acting as your pillow, along with their arm, keeping your head off the cave floor.

Ah, yes. The cave. The cave that you entered to shelter from the snowstorm, and of all the people that you could have been thrown into the deep end with, it just happened to be-

"Would you stop fidgeting?" a rather frustrated, yet quiet voice calls out. Looking up through your lashes, your eyes come into focus with Crosshair, who is attempting to sleep. His expression is neutral, eyes shut, and dare you say it, but Crosshair looks rather sweet when he's cooped up at your side.

You let out a sheepish, "sorry." Your eyes wander around the cave, soon meeting the entrance. It's light outside, the sun is shining down overhead, and the snow looks far tamer than it was last night. Your way out might not be as cursed after all, but a new issue has risen. Crosshair is softly snoring, and his grip on you is deadly. He is not letting go, or at least, not without a fight. For a man who prefers his own company, he seems rather touch starved, and whilst you clash heads with him, you're content with giving him the comfort that he so clearly needs.

And it's a good thing that you're content with this scenario, as Crosshair rolls over onto his side, engulfing you deeper into his grasp.

Sure, plastoid armour isn't the comfiest thing to cuddle, but the man beneath it is. Your chest is pressed to his, legs tangled up together, and Crosshair's arms are holding you tightly against him. He's rather soothing like this, your personal teddy bear, but you know that he's only doing this for warmth. It pains you; you may not get along, but you can't deny that you aren't soft on him. Perhaps your soft spot is mutual, as despite your clashing heads, Crosshair wouldn't do this if he truly disliked you.

"Go back to sleep," Crosshair quietly mutters, his voice barely audible above his deep breaths.

"What?" you stir, peering up to see his tired expression, eyes remaining shut.

"I can hear you thinking," he replies. The hand around your waist moves up, and gloved fingertips entwine themselves in your hair. Crosshair begins to softly massage your scalp, earning a pleasant hum, and for your eyes to close. "Quit thinking, and get some rest," Crosshair demands once more.

Mhm, can't argue with that. You allow yourself to become engulfed in warmth, pressing your chest tighter against Crosshair's, with your forehead resting against his collarbones. His fingers continue to glide against your hair, offering nothing but comfort.

In this moment, you feel nothing but safe and secure. Crosshair is doing all he can to keep you warm, and you've been the fool for being so harsh on him - not that your harshness isn't reciprocated. And it seems you're as touch starved as he is, as you're clinging onto him for dear life, soaking up all the physical contact that you can get.

Maybe it's time to turn over a new leaf, see eye to eye, and allow your similar personalities to grow, rather than clash. Maybe Crosshair isn't so bad after all.

[neon-junkie]

In the Heat of the Moment - Chpt.8

Summary: “Less than ten percent of domesticated species go into heats,” accord to Tech and his research, and (un)fortunately, you’re one of that ten percent. What else are you meant to do? Trapped during a heat cycle with five men - five willing men who are happy to help relieve you, but not all have the confidence to say so.

Relationship: The Bad Batch x fem!Reader (she/her)

Tags: Heats, Mating, Sex pollen, Friends with benefits, Friends to lovers, Slow burn, Sex, Jealousy, Pining, Tags to be added.

Word count: 1.2k

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 9]

Chapter 8 - Scorching

"So, you… haven't been taking them?"

Hunter's voice throws you off guard, causing you to drop your tool with a clank!

Is there really any need to discuss this right now? The repairs are almost complete, and you can all finally leave this forsaken planet with its two cursed suns! However, your Sergeant, the one that has been avoiding you for weeks, now feels the need to address the Bantha in the room… or in this case, the desert.

You turn to look at him, barely a meter from you; his eyes flicker between his work, and your dazed expression. "You mean the supplements?" you question.

"Yeah," Hunter confirms with a light shrug of his shoulders.

"Nah, I haven't," you shrug back, and pick up your tool, returning to your work. It's not really his business, is it? There's no need to be nosey about such a thing.

A moment of silence becomes present, the sound of tools tinkering away fills up the void, yet you can feel the pulse of adrenaline rushing through your veins. You're getting defensive, and for good reasons.

"Why not?" Hunter finally quirks up, not bothering to look your way. It seems he isn't letting this go, is he?

"Didn't want to," you simply reply, matching his monotone demeanour. It doesn't take a Jedi to pick up on Hunter's sarkiness. Why he's bothered is beyond you, but if he can freely ask, then so can you! "Is that a problem?" you follow up.

"It has been, yes," Hunter confirms, finally looking your way as he continues working. "I won't deny that I find your… scent rather distracting, especially during missions."

"We're always on missions," you point out. Even if you aren't physically in action, you're either heading to your next target, or unwinding from the last one. Better yet, you're making amends from your previous one, and they can't come fast enough.

"Exactly. How am I meant to work with… that?" Hunter dares to comment. Now, work is no longer your priority. The tool in your hand becomes motionless as all of your attention turns to your Sergeant, whose defensive expression matches your own.

"I'm sorry that my biological needs are such a distraction to you," you snap. "Maybe if you followed your training better, then you'd be able to ignore my scent."

"And maybe if you'd taken the supplements like I originally asked, then I wouldn't have to put up with your scent, nor the sounds of you kriffing all of my squad!"

The nerve! The audacity!

The tool in your hand hits the sand with a soft thud, and you rest your hands on your hips, chest puffed out. It's just a smell, something that Hunter can easily ignore, but it seems his true intentions are coming to light. "I haven't slept with all of your brothers," you say with a mindless shrug, not that it's any of his business. Jealously really isn't a good look for him.

"Most of them," Hunter barks back.

"It's not my fault that they offered to help me out. I'd rather do that, then pop some mystery pills that you shoved into my hand! I don't even know where you purchased them from!"

Hunter's lips purse in annoyance as he takes a step closer towards you, attempting to one-up your stance. The sweat above his brow is clearly visible, possibly from frustration, or the blazing Tatooine heat. It doesn't help that he's chosen to work shirtless, his toned chest almost pushed into your face as he looks down at you, tanned and covered in a soft trail of hair. There is no need for him to be this close, and the more that he gets into your face, the more irate you become.

Hunter goes to open his mouth, but you beat him to it. "Get your boobs out of my face," you say as you swat his chest, taking a step back away from him. "If you want to help me out, then this isn't the way to approach it."

"I…" Hunter sputters, crossing his arms across his chest in some lousy attempt to cover up. "This isn't what I'm trying to do-"

"-Then what is it?" you interrupt him again. "Because it's pretty obvious that you want to 'help me out', rather than giving me those supplements," you shout, using your fingers to flex quotation marks. This is probably some elaborate scheme just to sleep with you, although you weren't expecting Hunter of all people to stoop that low.

Hunter's lips fall silent as his eyes refuse to meet yours. His furrowed brows fail to relax, as does his jaw, clenched firmly as his patience continues to run thin. He sucks in a deep breath whilst pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. Seconds pass, and you're waiting for him to burst, but when he finally speaks, he's as calm as ever.

"Finish up. The ship should be ready to depart."

And with that, Hunter leaves you to it, entering the Marauder. You can overhear him talking to Tech, muttering something about getting the engine running.

Now, it's your turn to suck in a deep breath, and attempt to steady your thumping heart. You've never argued with any of your boys, much less your Sergeant. A light squabble here and there, but never full-on arguing.

You almost feel… guilty, although you had every right to defend yourself! No matter.

As your eyes open, you're greeted by someone who is only going to fuel your fire. Crosshair is leaning against the Marauder's entranceway, arms crossed over his chest, a smug grin on his lips. He chuckles as you scowl at him.

"Not going to give Sarge a chance?"

"Kriff off."

Crosshair chuckles once more, and watches as you pick up your discarded tool, using it to secure the Ship's side panel into place. He allows you to finish before speaking up, instantly turning your concentrated expression sour.

"You know, hate sex is awfully pleasant," Crosshair states. Whether he's hinting at himself, or Hunter, is beyond you. Probably both, knowing Crosshair.

All you can do is barge past him, your shoulders clashing with force. "What's with you?" you scowl, meeting his gaze for a brief moment.

"I'm only pushing your buttons, Princess," Crosshair shrugs as he allows you to pass, keeping his stance despite wobbling from your aggressive gesture.

Not wanting to allow yourself to become even more angry, you don't bother responding, and instead head straight to your room. The repairs are somewhat done, and Tech is already firing up the engines. It's time to leave. Whether this ship will make it off this planet is beyond you, but right now, all you need is some space.

It's time for you to take a breather, and isolate yourself for a while.

[neon-junkie]

Tech would be one of those guys who is down baaaaaaad for his wife. He would worship the ground that you walk on. A Morticia and Gomez kind of love.

He's smug as fuck about you, but not to an overbearing point. Cocky remarks whenever you do something incredible, even if that's simply breathing. "I did not romantically pursue her purely for her ethereal appearance," he'll gloat with a raised brow, and an expression that reads 'duh!'

Always has his hand around your waist when you're out in public, a silent reminder that you're his; yet, Tech isn't worried. He knows your loyalty lies with him, and any fool who attempts to hit on you is only going to be shot down. And on the odd occasion that said person is persistent? Tech can hold his own in a fight, but the stranger doesn't need to worry about him - it's you that'll be throwing the punches.

Those bloody knuckles? Tut tut. "Darling, I told you to ignore him. Idiocy is not a trait of yours, so why bother attempting to stoop to his level?"

At least you'll be getting extra kisses tonight - you know, on top of those kisses that Tech gives you every single night. Bare chest to bare chest as Tech gawks at you. His eyes are sleepy, almost permanent red indents around them from where his goggles sit, but Maker forbid that he shuts his eyes without spending (at least) twenty minutes fawning over you, only for you to greet him in his dreams.

Breakfast in bed, a foot rub, if you need it. "Is there anything else that you require, my dear?" Half of the time, you don't need to ask; Tech knows what you want, what you need. He knows your body language, your facial expressions, the nervous twitch to your fingertips, and how your chest rises and falls in tense situations. Tech is there to catch you before you've even started falling because, whilst his mind and sight is on the task at hand, his heart is focused on you, and silent alarm bells blare in his head whenever you're in the range of trouble.

On those odd occasions that you're not with him, all Tech does is talk about you. If only he had a mute button - hah! his brothers wish he did. Still, talking about you beats his information dumps. At least you're interesting.

Tech is so proud to be with you, "I do not wear this band on my finger for any odd reason." He just wants to show you off to the world. How did he, a clone - not just a clone, but a defective one, a bad member of the batch - manage to pull you? What sort of Gods have blessed him? Who does he need to thank over and over for such a blessing?

Maybe that's why he makes it clear how much he adores you. Maybe that's why he doesn't fight his inner demons at night. You love him, flaws and all, and if anything, you've helped him overcome his insecurities; a receding hairline, lack of social cues, bad sleeping habits, only eats when he feels like he has to, and so on. You viewed him like this - this, in a derogative tone - and saw something in him that he doesn't see in himself.

And for that, Tech worships you. He adores you. He's so proud of you. There isn't a single soul, a being in any galaxy, who is luckier than Tech, purely because he gets to love you, and be loved in return.

[neon-junkie]

I miss your amazing works on the Bad Batch being panty snatchers - any updated headcannons/shenanigans around this?

aaah, I haven't updated that trope/series in so long!!! Here's a few NSFW headcanons based on the Batch stealing yo panties.

I'm writing this with the idea that you, the reader, have no idea what's going on, but you're more than welcome to interpret it the opposite way!

Fem reader.

Hunter always feels guilty whenever he steals your panties. He's desperate for that extra material when he masturbates, but oh lord, the post-nut guilt hits him hard. He'll hand-wash your panties before machine washing them, ensuring that they're extra clean. And Maker forbid that a single drop of his cum ever reaches them, else he'll burn your panties and sneakily buy you a new pair.

Echo, similar to Hunter, always feels guilty about stealing your panties. He doesn't get many moments alone, let alone to masturbate, so when he does jerk off, he likes to take his time, and go all out. So, if that means acquiring a pair of your panties to sniff, then fine, he'll do it, for his own pleasure! It's a little selfish, but he always puts them in the wash the second that he's done with them.

Wrecker is often clumsy, but when it comes to committing such a sinful act, he's extra careful. Wrecker won't risk stealing your panties when you're also on the ship, just to be safe. Hell, you'll need to be far away from the ship before he even considers stealing them. But when he does, he goes to town, and the second that he nuts, he often forgets to return them. Sneaking them back into your laundry the next day is always challenging.

Tech is good at being sneaky, but he sometimes lets his confidence get the better of him. You've caught him digging through your laundry basket before, using the excuse of "I was looking for something," before scuttering off. He has one stolen pair that he keeps under his pillow, and uses them over and over until your smell has vanished. So, if your panties ever go missing for days on end, you know who has them.

Crosshair, whilst he is bold and confident, prefers to be sneaky when it comes to something like this. It's weird, isn't it? Sniffing your panties whilst jerking off, all for that extra stimulation. He doesn't often feel guilty of it, just a little... weird? Still, he'll put them back into your laundry basket when done. You can always tell when Crosshair is up to something, as he'll make you caf the next morning - his silent way of saying 'thank you.'

[neon-junkie]

What your favourite Bad Batcher says about you!

Not to be taken seriously, just a few traits I’ve picked up in people, based on who their favourite Bad Batcher is. Gender-neutral!

Hunter - You are a fan of one of these things, if not both: rough and rugged men who come across as dominant, but are actually submissive, OR sad little wet dogs. You know those 'sponsor an animal today!' adverts, and they show you all the animals with their sad lil' eyes gawking at the camera? Yeah, that's Hunter. You probably have a comfort item of some kind - a teddy, blankey, pillow, etc - and heaven forbid you ever wash that thing. They're fragile, okay?! Holding hands is one of your favourite forms of affection, along with head massages, and words of affirmation. You big, sappy baby.

Tech - Nerrrrd. No seriously, you've got to be a geek of some sort. That, or you're the total opposite to him. A goth, perhaps? Maybe you like Tech because he reminds you of your dorky high school days when you were bullied for your basic interests. On a brighter note, Tech fans are always sweet and kind, straightforward, possibly a little... autistic. You probably own a fidget item of some kind, and you love 'floor time.' Oh, and one of your favourite things on a man are their thighs - perfect cushions!

Wrecker - You're 100% an angel, alright?! I've never met a Wrecker fan who isn't the sweetest soul to ever grace this earth. You're probably not into the gym - if anything, you prefer food, and you're more than happy with your size and figure. You always have that one jacket that you wear, despite having a wardrobe full of others. Bright colours are your favourite because they're positive, and who doesn't want to be surrounded by bright and happy colours? You probably also own that Lula plush too, or you've made your own. Crafty lil' nerd.

Echo - Either you drink wine, or gin. Or you don't drink at all. There's no middle ground here. You definitely sleep in a bed full of blankets and pillows, only to push them off during the night because you're too damn hot! Cuddles are a very comforting thing to you, and one of your favourite forms of love language. You're either incredible at maths, or shit. Overall, you're soft and tender, but damn, you can bark when you really want to, and Maker forbid that anybody ever feels your bite!!

Crosshair - Okay, but... you don't have daddy issues, that's the thing. Everybody assumes that because you're a little edgy, when in reality, your trauma stimulates from elsewhere. Childhood bullying, perhaps? You know how everybody is either a black cat, or a golden retriever? Yeah, you're a black cat, but that doesn't mean you prefer solitude. You don't let just anyone into your circle - trust is a big thing, and it takes a long time to build up with you. However, when someone gets through, they find out that you're just a big sappy baby. A big sappy baby who prefers to be the little spoon.

[neon-junkie]

Tech x gn!Reader - An Early Lunch

A short 500 word drabble. Tech is meant to be doing repairs, but procrastination gets the better of him. However, he knows how to fix his concentration.

He's doing it again.

You're not meant to be his babysitter - far from it - but given how often he drifts away from his work, you certainly feel like it.

"Tech," your voice chimes in, and with wide eyes, Tech peers over his shoulder to meet your gaze. Tech lets out a soft, "hm?" which only causes you to shake your head in annoyance.

"You're distracting yourself. Again," you explain, gesturing to the jumble of repairs that lie untouched in the Marauder's hallway, an obvious safety hazard, although this ship is one big hazard in itself.

"I would not call this a distraction," Tech defends as he holds up his spare pair of googles. "I began rummaging through these draws to search for a specific tool, and in doing so, I found my missing pair of goggles. Upon finding them, I realised that the recorder lens was cracked, and I know that I have the required materials to repair this minor issue. So, I decided to hop to it, and I will resume to the ship's repairs shortly-"

"-No, you won't," you say with a tut. "I've seen you distracting yourself all morning, and we both know that Hunter will not be happy when the others return from their supply run, to find that you've barely made a start on them."

Tech lets out a long and frustrated grumble, yet he continues fixing his goggles, popping in the new lens and fixing them in place. "Perhaps an early lunch will assist in putting me back on schedule," Tech proposes, which only causes you to roll your eyes.

"And now, you're hungry?" you sigh. Sure, you can get started on the repairs yourself, but Tech was meant to be teaching you. How can you proceed without his assistance?

"Yes," Tech responds with a simple nod. "But not for food."

"Oh?" you respond with a raised brow, causing Tech to grin. Maybe his wandering mind isn't such a curse, after all? So long as your main task gets completed.

"Oh, indeed," Tech nods. "It appears that my frustration is causing me to stray off course. If you allowed me to relieve myself, then I am certain that I will be able to regain focus." Such bold words from an even bolder man.

Rising from his mess on the Marauder's floor, Tech makes his way over to you, a gloved hand coming out to cup your own. You allow him to lead you over to the Pilot's chair, his chair, and seat you upon it. "Do I have your consent?" Tech questions as he sinks to his knees, spreading yours apart and positioning himself between them.

"You have my consent, but you must promise that you'll focus on repairs after. I don't want to put up with Hunter-"

"-Don't think about Hunter," Tech cuts you off with a wave of his hand. "The repairs will be completed. All you need to do is relax, and allow me to work."

A promise is a promise - something that Tech never goes back on. You might as well allow both of you to have some fun, especially if it means Tech will be able to concentrate on his repairs. So… why not?

[neon-junkie]

hi i'd like to request a crosshair smut but i've been thinking, everyone likes dom cross or bratty sub cross but realistically, most of the clones are probably virgins right?

I wanna see Crosshair who acts all tough and won't admit he doesn't know what he's doing until he's in your hands.

Crosshair who is embarrassed and nervous as soon as he's out of his clothes

Crosshair who worries that he isn't doing this right but will never say it aloud

Crosshair who acts like this isn't even that big of a deal until his dick is in your mouth

He doesn't know what he's doing, but he's never going to admit it.

He's watched holoporn a thousand times over. He knows the dance, he's memorised the moves, but in the moment, everything falls flat.

Crosshair is sheepish, timid, [embarrassed, but Maker forbid that he shows that - he's confident in his moves, every kiss laced with energy and passion, yet internally, he's screaming.

His lips are always on yours in an attempt to hide himself. He can't let you see him like this, flushed cheeks and sweat above his brow. Crosshair's hands are shaking, but he can cover that up by letting them roam your body.

Everything caves when his dick enters your mouth; he practically melts into the mattress, a hand coming up to latch onto his short hair, gripping himself to keep his form from falling apart.

If he can ensure that your eyes remain closed, then you won't have to see him like this. But they don't; your eyes open, and you're met with a man who is clearly falling apart.

You know. He knows that you know. Neither of you mention it. Instead, you find yourself crawling up him, straddling his waist and sinking onto his length.

Nothing escapes Crosshair's lips - he tries to let something out, but his mouth hangs open and silent instead. He's practically breathless, lying back, allowing you to take the ropes. All he can do is cling onto your hips with his sprawled out palms, and gaze at you with half lidded eyes.

Don't fall apart too easily. Keep it together. You're doing just fine. Crosshair isn't going to last long, not when it's his first time. No matter, he can build up his stamina, and he knows you won't be harsh on him for it. Tease him, maybe, but not scold him for being inexperienced.

And when he does finally climax, tears gloss over his eyes. Crosshair clings onto you, pulls your chest against his, urges your head to rest in the curve of his neck. He's shaking. His hands press firmly against your skin, finding comfort in the bareness of it all. To be naked is one thing, but to be naked and vulnerable around someone you love? That is something else entirely.

When Crosshair finally comes around, he murmurs a "thank you," as he kisses your lips. You return the favour by kissing his cheekbone - the edge of his face tattoo.

Give him a moment to breathe, let him come to terms with what's just happened, and guide him to round two.

Crosshair picked a good person to lose his virginity to.

[neon-junkie]

NSA

A short, 1.2k word fic. Smut.

Female reader.

Crosshair is struggling with your ‘no strings attached’ arrangement, as he finds that many, many strings are attached.

What started off as a 'no strings attached' arrangement, surprisingly, stayed like that. At least, it did at first - for so long that you genuinely believed that no feelings would develop. You spent months like this - months of sneaking around after dark, taking it in turns to sneak into the other's dorm, doing your business, and then heading back to your own bed. It was strictly platonic, or as platonic as it can be, when you're fucking.

Either Crosshair would send you that cursed, "you up?" text during the dead of night, or you'd send him a look throughout the day to indicate that you require him in your private quarters later on.

The others had caught on. It's hard for them not to, when they can hear doors closing at random times during the night, as well as the sound of Crosshair's creaking bunk. At least you two have the decency to keep your vocals on the low, swallowing down each other's whimpers as your lips crash together; sloppy, messy, unorganised, but it's only sex.   And when the deed is done, you'll stretch your back, then linger naked in bed, watching as Crosshair dresses himself before making his way across the Marauder's hallway, into his own room. Sometimes he turns back to say goodnight. Other times, he just walks out, and whilst the emotionless gesture does sting, you refuse to let it hurt you. Tucking you into bed? That's only going to lead to you wanting him, to make you ask him to come to bed, to cause feelings to develop.

And no strings attached means purely that.

However, you couldn't hold back one night. Crosshair had clocked off for the evening, and whilst he sat on the edge of your bed after pulling on his boxers, your hand came to rest on his toned back. Bruises had formed from a prior accident, and even Crosshair was unable to hold back the pained grunts and groans from contact on the tender area.

Only your touches were feather-light - so light, that Crosshair peered over his shoulder to silently question what exactly you were doing. You commented how painful they look, and Crosshair replied something along the lines of, "yeah, no shit." "I've got some ointment that will help," you had offered, but Crosshair promptly cut your words short.

"Going soft on me now. Are we?"

He was teasing you, and despite his playful banter, there was a warning within his words. You had scoffed, and with a wave of your hand, muttered something about, "only want to help a squad mate out." He left soon after, ointmentless.

Crosshair was up next in breaking the barrier. He worked himself to the limit, and after filling you up, rolled off you with a deep sigh. His back hit your mattress, and with it, the air slipped from his lungs before he sucked in another deep breath. Large hands came up to wipe the sweat off his face, before resting on his bare chest. Crosshair licked his lips - once, twice - before turning to you and asking, "you alright?" "Are you?" you laughed back. "Thought you'd pulled a muscle." "Phfft," he swatted your arm lightly, before mumbling about how he was only trying to blow off some steam.

Arguments during a mission? No problem! Crosshair will bite his tongue, and take his frustrations out on you later. It doesn't matter who he's clashing heads with, you're always his outlet, and you take pleasure in his quick and desperate pace.

His breaths soon steadied out, and his heart dropped back down to normal. However, once the sweat had dried up, and he had hydrated himself with your glass of water on your night stand, he remained lingering in your bed.

Did you question it? Hmm. You pondered on the thought, and after minutes had passed, you tilted your head to look at his, to open your lips and sputter whatever comes out, to question why he's sticking around for once.

Only to find that Crosshair's eyes are shut - comfortable, at peace, relaxed - and he wasn't showing signs of moving any time soon. The hand on his chest had moved to your thigh, and warmth was growing in your chest as his thumb mindlessly rubbed circles onto your skin.

Feeling your gaze on him, Crosshair's eyes had fluttered open, and he instantly assumed that he'd overstayed his welcome.

His feet found your bedroom floor as he hurried off, ignoring your protests to, "relax and stay a while." "We need to be up in the morning," Crosshair used as his excuse, not looking back as he exited your dorm.

Mhm. No rest for the wicked.

A week passes, as does another. Crosshair is keeping you further than an arms distance. He needs cool down time. A breath of fresh air. His own company. His arguments with his squad increases, his shots become sloppy, and his walls continue to grow. Pent up is the perfect way to describe him, but you're uncertain if that's due to a lack of sex.

You've tried sending him the look, silently signalling that you want his company in the night, but he continues letting your messages go to voicemail. He even ignores you when you play his move, sending him a dreaded, "you up?" text. Null. Another argument with Hunter comes and goes, and your Sergeant has the audacity to pull you to the side, and ask, "what the fuck is going on between you two? You need to fix this, before I snap and give Crosshair an ass-kicking!"

Oh, so it's now your duty to fuck this man silly? It's your duty to be his little stress ball, to let him take all his frustrations out on your cunt, to keep this squad glued together by taming the beast.

Yeah, it's not that simple.

Still, you try and talk to him, although in hindsight, your approach wasn't the best. Cornering him into his own room is up there in your 'worst decisions in my entire life.' Seriously, his own room?! You barged into there without a second thought, and demanded to know why he isn't speaking to you. Crosshair rolled his eyes, and let out a long, exaggerated groan before rising to his feet, no longer in the comfort of his bed. His hands meet his hips as he looks down on you, and before you know it, you two are thrown into an arguing match. Fingers are being pointed at one another, curse words are flowing from both of your lips, and tension is so thick that, out in the cockpit, Hunter decided to take everyone out on a walk so that you two can, "finally sort things out." Emotions continue to flow, anger continues to grow, and before you know it, Crosshair is pressing his lips to yours and pushing you down onto his bed. Clothes hit the floor, neither of you bother to keep your voices down for once, and all that frustration, all that anger, all those feelings finally come out, bursting at the seams whilst Crosshair's bunk threatens to break from sheer intensity.

When the storm finally settles, you don't get up. This isn't your bed, but Crosshair's arm being wrapped around your waist speaks more words that he'll ever speak. Stay.

Those tender kisses on your shoulder are a new outlet of expression for him, one that is begging for comfort and security.

I'm lost without you.

And when you roll over, eager to see him, eager to thread your fingers in his silver hair, and be met with admiring, auburn eyes, Crosshair greets you. A warm palm rests on your jaw, his thumb rubbing your cheek, and it remains there as he plants his lips on yours, overflowing with tenderness.

“I love you."

[neon-junkie]

Chef!Crosshair x Server!Reader Headcanons

This has been stuck in my drafts for a while, so I figured I'd tidy it up, and hit post. Reader is gender-neutral. 2k words. I think Crosshair would deffo be a chef in a modern setting! A little self indulgent as I'm a bartender/server... hehehehe...

Crosshair isn't quite the top dog, but second in line. Still, he runs the kitchen, and Maker forbids anybody to step out of line when Crosshair is on shift.

Or in general, for that matter. Crosshair has no problem breaking one of his chefs down to tears if they forget one simple task, like day dotting food stock, or ensuring that the fridges are at the correct temperature.

"A baby could do this job better than you. Why can't you pull your karking socks up, and get some sense through your thick skull?!"

Crosshair is a big meanie, to put it blankly. He has respect for those who do their job right, but if you're acting like an idiot in his kitchen, then all hell will break loose.

He's snappy to the front of house staff, too. Including the servers. Didn't scrape the plates enough? That deserves a telling off. Rushing him for orders? Fuck off. And if you dare steal a chip? Might as well die.

Crosshair doesn't like mess, clutter, or laziness, and everybody knows damn well how much it irritates him. Just don't be stupid, essentially.

Anyway, you've applied to this popular street food style restaurant. It's not posh, far from it. The food is fatty and filling, the perfect hangover cure, and you're guilty of being a regular.

The Manager, Hunter, doesn't seem surprised when you apply, and your interview is essentially a chit-chat, getting to know each other, seeing as you've already met from coming in on the regular.

It's finally time for you to put your uniform on, and be introduced to the rest of the staff. Everybody is lovely, to say the least, as you've met them before from being a customer.

Then you go into the back of house, and meet those who have blessed your stomach time and time again.

Hunter's eyes trail the kitchen before he asks, "where's Cross?" and another staff member shrugs whilst replying, "out the back."

Hunter, after letting out a grumble, leads you to the back entrance, explaining that this is the staff smoking area. Just as he's about to step outside, the door opens, and a tired-looking man in pristine chef's whites stands in the doorway.

He lets out another puff of his cigarette before discarding it, only to choke on the smoke as his eyes meet yours. His hand comes up to clear his throat, and you notice the tattoos and burn marks scattered over his toned arms. He's clear of jewellery, but you instantly know he's the type to wear rings and chains when he's off shift.

"Cross, I want to introduce you to our new server," Hunter pulls his gaze from yours, and after saying your name, Crosshair fails to make eye contact with you.

Only now do you notice his face tattoo, darkly contrasting against his silver hair. Is it dyed? Or is he really this stressed out from his job?

"Nice to meet you," Crosshair mutters as he extends his hand, and shakes yours. "Now, if you'll excuse me. I have stock to count."

And with that, he's pushing past you and Hunter, disappearing into the kitchen.

Hunter turns back to you with a sigh, "he doesn't talk much. Not a fan of strangers, but I'm sure he'll warm up to you."

Oh, how right Hunter is.

Your first week went well, and you're slowly starting to establish a place for yourself within your new work environment.

Today is your usual weekday shift. Not too busy, but not slow paced either. The lunch rush has finished, and you're tasked with cleaning up tables. Another stack of plates is brought into the kitchen, and you're going through them one by one, scraping the leftovers into the bin before stacking them on the shelves for the pot washer to clean, when he's back from his cigarette break.

You can feel somebody's eyes on the back of your head, practically burning a hole through your skull. Curious, you peer over your shoulder, and lock eyes with Crosshair.

He's attempting to prep some vegetables, and narrowly misses his finger whilst chopping them, his gaze fixated elsewhere. Only, once your eyes meet his, Crosshair looks back to his task, acting as if he wasn't just staring at you.

So, you turn away, only to look back at him when his voice fills the air.

"It's nice to have some competence around here," Crosshair comments. You let out a soft "hm?" so Crosshair continues. "Most of the other servers leave their plates a mess, barely scraped, stacked in the wrong order. It's nice to have a server who knows how to do their job."

"It's not like it's hard," you say with a shrug.

"Exactly," Crosshair looks back up at you, and you notice the upwards turn to his lips.

You return to your task after matching his smile, and you're both content with the silence in the air.

Once finished, it's time for your break. Whilst you would usually ring your staff food through without a second thought, you decide to ask Crosshairs permission first.

"Hey, I know you're doing prep, but do you mind if I ring my food through? I can wait if-"

"-What would you like, Sweetheart?" Crosshair asks, wiping his hands clean as he makes his way over to the grill.

"Uhm… a burger?" your mind falls blank, mostly because you're not used to having a chef seem this happy with cooking.

"Is that it?" Crosshair raises his brow. "Come on, you can come up with something more creative than that. Tell me what toppings you like."

Before you know it, you're going into depth about exactly how you like your burgers. All the while, Crosshair is nodding in agreement, and even chimes in with comments here and there. You soon ring your order up, and whilst waiting for it to cook, you return to cleaning your tables, all whilst your heart is pounding with butterflies in your chest.

Back in the kitchen, Crosshair catches himself smiling as he cooks your meal. He doesn't even realise how sappy he's being until he squirts the burger sauce onto the bun in the shape of a heart, soon to be hidden by a patty cooked to your liking.

"What's got you all cheery?" Hunter questions as he peers in the kitchen, bewildered at Crosshairs content expression.

Crosshair slips his emotional mask back on as he meets his brother's eyes, "just excited for my cigarette break."

One month into your new job, and you're more than happy here. The customers are nice, your coworkers are great, and the food is to die for!

Sure, you're in the honeymoon phase, but you'll enjoy it whilst it lasts.

Crosshair is slowly opening up to you, but he's been the toughest egg to crack. Whilst everybody else has no issue with jumping straight into conversation, Crosshair tends to keep his mouth shut, minus the odd hum and one-word reply here and there.

Only, you've seen him speak to others. Well, not speak… scream! Crosshair has no issue with shouting at his cooks over the smallest of things. He's even barked at the other servers, too. You know that he's overall disliked within the workplace, but sometimes, you can understand Crosshairs point of view.

He's right. It's not hard to do your job right, keep your area tidy, and be efficient. Maker knows how your co-workers manage to screw the smallest of things up, and sure, you've made mistakes here and there, and always bent over backwards to fix them.

But despite Crosshair's tough demeanour, deep down, he's a real sap. Or at least, he is towards you.

You've noticed that you can get away with certain things, such as nibbling on a few leftover chips whilst waiting for orders to be plated up, or using different abbreviations when ringing up orders.

You didn't even realise that wasn't the norm, until a fellow coworker commented, "Crosshair lets you eat the leftover fries? He swatted my hand away when I tried to do that, just like everybody else."

Maybe it's because you bring Crosshair a cup of coffee to his liking at the start of every shift? Or because you always let out comments here and there about how good the food is presented?

Maybe it's just because Crosshair has a thing for you, as much as he denies it. You are his favourite server, but Maker forbid that anybody knows, despite it being painfully obvious.

Obvious to everyone, but you.

You finally catch on during one stressful shift. A customer, as cursed as they are, broke you down to tears. You remained stiff lipped whilst taking a beating, but the second you entered the back of house, tears started rolling down your cheeks.

Hunter takes the burden of the customer off your shoulders, and orders you to go and take a moment to yourself out back.

The fire exit door swings open, and you storm out, holding back a choked sob as you take a seat on one of the many empty crates resting against the building.

Your head falls into your hands, elbows resting on your knees, and finally alone, you begin to cry.

Only, you're not alone. Crosshair is on the other side of the door, back resting against the wall with a forgotten cigarette pressed between his fingers. He can hear you crying, and after swallowing his feelings, and allowing them to settle in his uneasy stomach, he discards his cigarette and decides to approach you.

"Customers, huh?" Crosshair questions as he takes a seat beside you, not bothering to ask if you need a friend. He knows damn well that you do.

A series of incoherent words fall from your lips, but Crosshair can piece them together. You're venting about what just happened, mumbling and babbling away, blowing off steam with your favourite chef by your side.

In the midst of offloading your anger, Crosshair decides to weave his arm around your shoulders, and gently pull you into his grasp.

He doesn't even realise what he's done until your head comes to rest on his shoulder, lashes fluttering against his sensitive Adams apple, still venting away whilst a hand caresses your shoulder and back.

"And you wonder why I work in the kitchen," Crosshair comments, earning a laugh from you.

"Maybe I should switch, and start working in the kitchen with you," you say with a light chuckle.

Despite his stomach turning at the idea, Crosshair puts on a smile as he replies, "that wouldn't be so bad. I'm sure I could put up with you."

"Put up with me?" you repeat with a gasp, straightening your back to meet his eyes. All Crosshair does is give you a shrug, with a cheeky grin on his lips. "Phfft, I'd be the one putting up with you. I've seen how you bark at your chefs," you continue.

"I don't bark," Crosshair says with a playful glare. "I bite."

You can't help but let out a laugh, soon returning your head to his shoulder. "You wouldn't bite me," you boast.

Crosshair allows his cheek to rest against the top of your head. "I might do," he says eagerly, "but only if you waste stock."

"Oh, I'd definitely burn a burger or two," you admit, knowing damn-well that you're a riot in the kitchen.

In the midst of your nattering, Hunter makes his way through the back of house to find you, knowing that you're taking a breather outside.

Only he stops once he overhears your voice, and a certain chef talking to you.

Smiling to himself, Hunter decides that you don't need him - you have somebody else to take care of you, somebody who has been eager to talk to you, but is far more timid than he lets on.

Hunter's little plan is going smoothly, now that Crosshair is finally speaking to you, rather than keeping to himself in the kitchen.

After all, Crosshair is the main reason why you were hired. It's his own fault, drunkenly admitting that he thought a certain regular customer was attractive, and definitely his type.

Fate took its course, and Hunter found your CV in his pile only a few days later.

You were beyond perfect for the job, and maybe, just maybe, you'll be even better for a certain chef.