#the bad batch sibling moments

[questforgalas]

Sibling moments in the Bad Batch that live rent free in my head

S1E10 "Common Ground"

Omega perched on Wrecker's shoulder like a little parrot 😂

The fact that obviously the whole squad had to stop by the mantell mix stand so Wrecker and Omega could keep up their tradition

Echo peering over at the mantell mix like the judgmental health nut sibling who's drinking green smoothies while the other eat ice cream for breakfast

Complete synchronization of Wrecker leaning down to let Omega hop off his shoulder and Hunter guiding her down without even pausing

Tech steadying her as she lands and not backing away until she gives him a nod. She may technically be the oldest but the "protective physically big brothers" is everything <3<3

Echo sniffing the mantell mix 😂😂😂😂😂 like cannot be more judgmental of his siblings' snacks

Tech's amusement at Echo literally sniffing space popcorn

Shout out to Wrecker's empath level 1000 abilities here pushing back at Hunter when he says Omega needs a break. Wrecker may be protective, but he's never going to treat Omega like a porcelain doll

Hunter's "i'm the older sibling and what I say goes" walk off

Tech ready to help Omega onto the stool cause she has to hop onto it <3<3

Wrecker, Tech, and Omega in the background as Hunter takes Cid to the side giving each other the "I don't know" shoulder shrugs

Tech and Echo quietly arguing in the background 😂😂

Omega's eye roll at Hunter when he tells her she's staying 😂 poor Hunter dealing with his first pre-teen girl

Wrecker's little "it's ok" shoulder tap on Omega as they leave

"I can't believe we're helping a separatist senator." "So you have said. Repeatedly." followed by Echo's grumpy glare directed right at Tech so help me grumpy Echo and sassy Tech are peak siblings

Echo then turns his chair to pout in the corner I'm dying

"Now are you convinced?" "No." Echo is the sibling who didn't want to do the family activity and is going to make sure everyone knows it

Tech's side eye at Echo like please for the love of god we get it

Echo and Tech continuing to argue as they disembark the ship and Hunter's "Forget politics!" aka "for the love of god shut up please for one minute before you both go in time out"

Wrecker ready to pummel the protocol droid after Echo pushes it up against the wall even though he has no idea why Echo is doing what he's doing he's just ready to back up his bro like the good bro he is

"That would be impossible seeing as Omega is not on this mission" Tech refusing to give Hunter a moment of peace and always in sass mode

Tech is so amused when the protocol droid goes storming into the corridor

The fact that none of the batch ever flinch at Wrecker's outbursts of energy or when he shoves through the group they're so used to him and get so amused by it

Wrecker's fond smile when they get back to Cid's and he realizes Omega is the cause of all the ruckus such a proud bro

Only to be followed by Hunter's tired "of course" (let big bro rest guys)

Wrecker is so proud of Omega

Wrecker's shoulder smack and knowing look at Hunter like "get the stick out of your ass"

Classic sibling tactic by Hunter to settle a squabble via a challenge

[kybercrystals94]

Anything

Read here on Ao3!

Summer of Bad Batch | Week 3 | Prompt: "Forget I asked." | Bonus Prompt: "Can you braid my hair?"

Rated: G | Words: 1190

Crosshair wakes to a snuffling sound, and turns over to find his sister standing next to his bed. “Omega? What’s wrong?” 

“I got sick,” Omega mutters, and her breath trembles. She’s crying, softly, quietly. 

Crosshair reaches over and clicks on the lamp, bathing the room in a warm glow of light. But the warmth does not extend to Omega’s face, her skin pale and eyes red rimmed. She blinks rapidly, and a tear escapes, creating another shiny track down her ashen cheek. She does not look well at all. 

Of all the times for Hunter and Wrecker to be gone on a supply trip for the island. 

Sitting up, Crosshair asks, “Got sick where?” He really hopes he doesn’t have to clean anything up. 

“I made it to the fresher,” Omega tells him, “but I still feel awful.” 

“Alright,” Crosshair says, nodding. “Let’s see what we can do about that.” 

He guides Omega out of his room, a hand on her shoulder. Even through her nightshirt, he can feel that she’s unusually warm. Not a dangerously high fever, he decides, but enough to make her feel miserable. The common room has a couch and a chair, and he gives her a gentle nudge towards the couch. “Lay down. I’ll be back.” 

Crosshair goes to Omega’s room and finds her blankets in a pile on the floor, hastily discarded in her flight to the fresher to throw up, he imagines. He picks up the thickest of the blankets and drapes it over his right arm and then grabs her pillow. He notices the red tip of Lula’s ear peeking out from under the bed, and after a second thought, snatches the tooka stuffy up too. 

When he returns to the common room, Omega is laying on her side on the couch, knees drawn up to her chest and shivering. She looks pitiful, and the twinge of sympathy Crosshair feels reverberates deeply in his chest cavity. “Here, I brought your pillow and blanket.” 

Omega lifts her head and lets Crosshair shove the pillow under her. He then drapes the blanket over her, and props Lula beside her. Omega watches him dully. “Thanks,” she whispers. 

“We have tea. It might help with the nausea,” Crosshair says. “Do you think you could take medicine?”

Omega nods. 

Crosshair retreats to the kitchen to try and find where Hunter keeps the tea. He and his brothers are typically caf drinkers; however, housewarming gifts from the islanders had supplied them with enough tea to last several clone lifetimes. He puts some water in a kettle to boil and then spends the next five minutes digging through every cupboard before he finds where Hunter stashed the stuff. Crosshair isn’t really sure what kind of tea helps nausea, so he just chooses the one that smells the best, dropping the teabag in Omega’s favorite mug. 

After letting the brew steep for several minutes, he takes the steaming beverage back to the common room. Omega smiles wanly and pushes herself up to sit cross legged, arranging the blanket over her lap before taking the mug of tea from Crosshair. “You’re pretty good at this taking care of sick people stuff,” she says, putting her nose to the brim of the mug to inhale the steam with a sigh. 

Crosshair rolls his eyes. “Surprised?” 

“A little,” Omega admits with a grin.

Crosshair huffs and leaves to search for medicine. When he returns, Omega looks like she’s going to be sick again. Quickly, he takes her mug and she stumbles to her feet, briefly getting tangled in the blanket, before stumbling back to the fresher. 

Crosshair follows and arrives in time to find her kneeling over the toilet and emptying whatever is left in her stomach. He hesitates a moment before stepping inside and awkwardly gathering up her hair with his left hand, holding it at the nape of her neck. The long seconds drag into several minutes before Omega finally leans back. Crosshair releases his hold on her hair and hands her a towel to wipe her mouth. 

“Ugh,” Omega growls. “I hate being sick.” 

Crosshair agrees with a hum and helps Omega to her feet. She rinses her mouth out in the sink before shuffling back into the living room and collapsing on the couch. 

“Do you want to try your tea again?” Crosshair asks. 

Omega shakes her head. “Not yet.” 

Crosshair nods and sits down next to her, picking up the puddle of blanket from the floor and tossing it over her lap. Omega reaches up and brushes back her hair. “Could you…” she starts, but cuts herself off, frowning and dropping her hands. 

“What?” Crosshair asks. 

“Nothing,” Omega mumbles, “Forget I asked.”

“No, tell me. What do you need?” Crosshair insists. 

Omega sighs. “I was just gonna ask if you could braid my hair, but…” 

Oh. Crosshair had braided Omega’s hair before, back when he first came to Pabu after their escape from Tantiss. Hunter and Wrecker had gone to find Fennec Shand, and Omega had asked if he knew how. With the tremble in his right hand, the braids had been loose and messy; however, Omega had proudly worn them all day.

He stares down at his singular hand, nondominant and clumsy when it comes to more intricate efforts. Besides, braiding hair took two hands, not one and a stump. And while it isn’t his fault the simple request can’t be fulfilled, Crosshair feels like he’s failed. 

“I’m sorry,” Omega says, “I forget sometimes.” 

Crosshair doesn’t like the guilt in his sister’s voice. “Welcome to the club,” he says, hoping to ease the tension. 

It doesn’t. 

Crosshair stands up. “I’ve got an idea…but I’ll need to borrow something.” 

Omega looks at him quizzically. “What?” 

“I might only have one hand, but between the two of us, we have three. I think I can make due.” 

The girl immediately brightens. She tells Crosshair where to find her hair ties and brush in her room, and soon Crosshair is brushing through a tangle of blond locks and creating a careful part down the middle. Under his direction, Omega offers up her right hand to hold whatever strands of hair Crosshair puts in her fingers, as he sloppily weaves a braid down from her hairline. Crosshair’s snippy instructions are taken in the spirit they are delivered, Omega giggling and outright laughing as she tries to follow blindly along, acting as Crosshair’s literal right hand. Crosshair smiles at the sound. 

After nearly an hour of effort, Omega has two lopsided braids, bumps of unruly hair poking out where the coordination effort fell short. 

“Do they look nice?” Omega asks sweetly. 

Crosshair snorts. “They look like kark, but they'll do the job.” 

Omega laughs. “Thanks, Crosshair.” 

“Don’t mention it,” Crosshair says. 

“I think I’m ready for my tea now,” Omega says, “but it’s probably cold.” 

Crosshair heaves an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. I’ll make you a fresh cup. Anything else, m’lady?” 

Omega considers. “Maybe some crackers?” 

“Of course, anything for you,” Crosshair retorts, but the sarcasm is muted by a soft smile, and the reality that he really would do anything. 

END

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[here-comes-the-moose]

So I haven’t showed The Bad Batch to my dad (the person who introduced me to Star Wars), but I’m pretty sure one of his main reactions would be judging each of the guys and getting extremely stressed whenever Omega is in danger. Also I can clearly hear my dad being judgmental and saying “look at this guy-he thinks he’s Rambo” about Hunter and questioning why Crosshair always has a toothpick in his mouth.

[jetii]

Lessons of the Heart

Pairing: Crosshair x fem!Reader / Crosshair x Teacher!Reader

Words: 15,738

Tags/Warnings: fluff, so much fluff, strangers to lovers, soft!Crosshair, grumpy/sunshine dynamic, awkward flirting, mutual pining, kissing/making out, Crosshair's anxiety, reader has long-ish hair, Tech mentioned briefly

Summary: Over a year after settling on Pabu, Crosshair is still struggling to adapt to life without having something to fight, or fight for. When Omega comes home with a bad grade, he jumps at the chance to help. He doesn't expect to become so invested, and he certainly doesn't expect to fall for his sister's teacher.

A/N: This one got away from me! But since the poll indicated I should keep this all one part, here you go. I really enjoyed writing Crosshair's perspective and all the little sibling moments in here.

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

"Again, Omega? We talked about this."

Crosshair stops dead in his tracks, one boot in front of the other, and stares straight ahead. The basket of dirty clothes in his grip hangs limp by his side as he stands in the hallway, listening. Hunter and Omega are in the kitchen, the latter having just gotten back from another day at school, and they’re clearly talking about something serious.

Crosshair doesn't dare to breathe too loud in case he misses a single word. It's hard not to notice how Hunter's voice drops low when he speaks, trying not to be overheard by someone. By someone like Crosshair.

"I know, Hunter," she groans. He can hear the sound of something hit the counter, likely a datapad, and Omega shifts on her stool. "I tried on this one, I promise."

Hunter hums in a tone that makes it clear he's not quite believing her, and Crosshair's eyebrows raise a little in curiosity.

"Let me see, please."

"Hunter—"

"Omega."

She huffs, but a few seconds later, the datapad slides across the counter with a quiet squeak, and Omega's chair scrapes across the floor as she sits back down. "There. Happy?"

"Thank you." There's a pause, and Crosshair can only imagine the face Hunter is making as he reads whatever it is that Omega is showing him. His voice is stern, a tone that Crosshair's come to know as the sergeant, not the brother. "What is this?"

"I told you," she whines.

"She gave you a 50%?" Hunter's voice raises slightly. "Why would she do that?"

Omega scoffs. She's getting better at that. It almost sounds natural now.

Crosshair peeks around the corner, and sure enough, Hunter has the datapad in his hands, reading over whatever report the teacher sent back. Omega sits next to him, her shoulders slumped, arms crossed, and she's not meeting his gaze. Her backpack sits unzipped, its contents strewn out across the countertop and the stool where she usually sits.

He knows he shouldn't eavesdrop, but he's been doing it for so long he's not sure how to stop. And besides, the look on Hunter's face is one he doesn't like.

They'd all known going into this that Omega wasn't going to have an easy time at school. She excelled far beyond her peers in most subjects — math, history, science, languages, you name it — but there were two subjects where her intelligence failed her. Art, for one, because it was hard to grasp the concept of drawing something when she had no frame of reference. And then, of course, there was literature.

It's not her fault, and Hunter's well aware of it. Her education prior to the Batch adopting her was entirely focused on being the best lab assistant a Kaminoan could ever want. Over time, she soaked up anything they would teach her. Strategy, engineering, politics, even some basic medical training — Omega could do it all. But, as it turned out, there was a pretty big part of her education that she was severely lacking in, and it was starting to show.

Out of the three brothers, Crosshair was the only one who actually made a habit out of reading, though he'd never admit it to anyone. So he tried his best to teach Omega the concepts that her teacher was trying to instill in her, but sometimes it was difficult.

Literature was, by nature, subjective. It's always up for debate, and Crosshair found himself constantly questioning himself while helping Omega with her assignments. It usually ended with both of them frustrated, and Hunter or Wrecker stepping in to mediate the situation.

But still, Omega loved her classes, even if they were difficult. And Crosshair would never say it out loud, but he enjoyed spending time with her and helping her learn, even if it wasn't always the easiest.

It seemed, though, that her teacher didn't agree with his methods.

Hunter looks up from the datapad and places it on the counter. He takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and reaches across to pat Omega's shoulder. "It's okay. We can work with this."

She shrugs him off and hops down from the stool, gathering her things and stuffing them into her bag. When she tries to reach for the datapad, Hunter snatches it up and holds it out of her reach.

"Give it to me, Hunter."

"No. We're going to talk about this, Omega."

"There's nothing to talk about," she mutters, trying again and failing to grab the datapad.

Crosshair takes that as his cue. He steps into the kitchen and drops the basket of laundry onto the ground by his feet, the force of the landing enough to get their attention.

"Oh, good," Hunter says, looking at Crosshair. "You're home."

"Yep." Crosshair pops the 'p' and folds his arms, leaning back against the wall. He meets Omega's eyes for a moment, and the look on her face is like a punch to the gut. She looks defeated, and it's not a look that suits her.

He hates seeing her upset, especially over something so trivial. It's a report, and not even a very important one. It's not like her grades in the other classes were suffering. She was passing every single one of them with flying colors. It's just this one assignment, this one class, this one teacher who seems hellbent on making her feel bad about herself.

Crosshair can feel the rage bubbling under the surface. How dare her teacher give her a score that low, and why? Because of his help? That was his job, and he was doing it.

"What's going on?" Crosshair asks. He's still staring at Omega, trying to get her to look up at him, to meet his gaze, but she's not taking the bait. She's got her arms folded, her shoulders tense, and her lower lip juts out as she pouts at Hunter.

"I told her we'd talk about it, and she doesn't want to." Hunter sets the datapad back down, sliding it across the counter.

Crosshair picks it up, glancing at the words on the screen before scrolling through the report. It's an analysis, one he's read a million times. He doesn't bother skimming it, because he already knows exactly what she wrote. It's a decent summary of the text, and her thoughts and opinions are written plainly and with an obvious understanding of what the author meant. It's not her fault her teacher wanted her to interpret the text the way a typical thirteen-year-old might, but that wasn't who Omega was.

He glances back up at Hunter. "And what is there to talk about?"

"Well, her teacher doesn't seem to agree with her analysis," Hunter says. He nods at the datapad in Crosshair's hand. "The comments."

Crosshair finds the section in question and reads over the notes. It's a lot of the same, just worded a bit differently, but one comment sticks out among the rest.

Please try to stick to the original meaning of the text, Omega. You did well explaining how your interpretation differed from the traditional meaning, but try to focus on the actual story. 

It's the most condescending, ridiculous thing Crosshair has ever read, and he has to keep himself from throwing the datapad at the wall. He has to remind himself that doing that would only make Omega feel worse, and he doesn't want to upset her.

Instead, he takes a deep breath and hands the datapad back to her.

"This is stupid," he says, and he can see Hunter's eye twitch at his choice of words. "I read the text. I know what it means, and you know what it means. What, are you supposed to go through the entire thing and find the most cliche, obvious way of reading it?"

"No," Omega mumbles.

"Right," he agrees. "So then why is she giving you a low grade for your own thoughts and opinions?"

Omega shrugs. She's frowning, staring down at the datapad like it personally offended her.

And Crosshair knows that feeling, intimately. It's the same way he'd stare at the training room floor whenever a drill sergeant would call him a failure. It grates on his nerves, and he's half-tempted to find the teacher's home address and tell her just how wrong she is.

"But I'm doing it wrong," Omega says, her voice small and defeated.

Hunter is glaring at him now, but Crosshair can't find it in him to care.

"No, you're not," Crosshair insists, and he takes a seat beside her at the counter. "You did your research. You did everything you were supposed to, and you wrote a report about what you think it meant. What's wrong with that?"

Omega shrugs again, and he can see her hands balling up into fists.

The sight alone is enough to set him on edge. His entire body feels like a coiled spring, his muscles tense and ready to go. He hates seeing her like this. She's a bright kid, always smiling and happy, and to see her so down on herself makes him feel ill, and the last thing he wants is for her to think she's failed somehow.

Crosshair doesn't know why the teacher doesn't understand that, doesn't appreciate how amazing it is that a girl her age is even capable of writing a paper like this. Maybe, somewhere deep down, the teacher does get it. Maybe she's just pushing her own agenda. It wouldn't surprise Crosshair in the slightest, and the more he thinks about it, the more annoyed he gets.

"Maybe I should comm her," Hunter says, interrupting his train of thought.

Crosshair snaps his head around, glaring daggers at his brother. "No."

"Excuse me?"

"Don't comm her." He pushes himself away from the counter and stands. "I'll handle this."

Hunter stares at him, one eyebrow raised, clearly confused. "Handle it?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna talk to her."

"Cross," Hunter says, but he doesn't finish his sentence.

Crosshair doesn't stick around long enough to hear the end of it. He's already halfway out the door, pulling his jacket off the hook, and slamming the door shut behind him.

Crosshair is pissed.

He doesn't often get angry. Annoyed, frustrated, irritated, yes. All those are familiar. But angry? Angry is not something he deals with. He can't stand it, the way his chest feels like it's about to explode, the way his heart rate picks up and his stomach feels sick. Anger makes him feel out of control, and the last thing he wants is to lose the little self-control he does have.

But now?

Now, he's angry.

Omega doesn't deserve to be treated like this. She doesn't deserve the way her teacher is talking to her, telling her she's doing something wrong when she isn't. If anything, the teacher should be grateful that Omega is even bothering to read the texts in the first place, that she's putting in the effort to analyze the meanings behind them.

He's so caught up in his own thoughts, he barely realizes how far he's gone. It's only when he spots the school, the tall building looming in the distance, does he realize he's halfway across town, and the sun is starting to dip below the horizon.

He slows his pace, taking a moment to catch his breath, and glances around. He's only been here a few times, just long enough to drop Omega off at the start of the day or pick her up after. He's never actually been inside, never even met a single one of her teachers, and he has no idea where her classroom even is.

A sign points him towards the front entrance, and he follows it. There's a handful of other parents waiting around the main entrance, all of them talking and laughing and joking with one another. A few of them glance his way, watching him curiously as he approaches the doors.

He ignores them, slipping inside and letting the doors close behind him. The hallways are quiet, and the sound of his boots against the tile echoes throughout the empty halls. He's not entirely sure where he's going, but he figures it can't be that hard to find her classroom.

It isn't.

It takes him less than a minute to locate her name, next to a door decorated with bright colors and images of what he assumes are the characters from a few of the stories they've read. He doesn't stop to admire the decorations, though. He doesn't stop at all, really. He pushes the door open and walks right inside, his eyes scanning the room.

The rows of chairs and desks are empty, but the one near the holoboard at the front of the room is occupied. There's a human woman sitting there, head bowed over a desk as she writes, and Crosshair strides up to her without hesitation.

"I want to talk about the report you gave Omega," he says, his voice tight, barely able to contain his anger. The woman looks up, clearly startled, and blinks owlishly at him.

The anger coursing through his veins suddenly tempers as he locks eyes with you, and he finds himself at a loss for words.

You're not what he was expecting, not in the slightest. He'd expected someone older, a woman with graying hair and crow's feet, maybe, one who's lived enough years to become old and jaded. Not this. Not you.

Your eyes are wide and bright, and the expression on your face is nothing short of adorable. He's not sure where that word came from, thrust to the forefront of his consciousness with the force of a speeder, but he can't deny that it's accurate. Your hair is tied up in a messy bun, a few loose strands hanging over your face, and there's a small, pink stylus stuck behind your ear. Your lips are slightly parted, a pretty shade of pink that almost matches the color of the pen, and he watches as they slowly form into a small 'o' as you process what's going on.

And then, just as quickly, your expression changes.

The adorableness falls away, and you straighten your posture, your brows furrowing and your lips pulling into a tight line.

"You must be Crosshair."

He frowns. "How did you—"

"She talks about you." You nod, glancing him up and down, and Crosshair has to fight the urge to shrink under your scrutiny. His mouth feels dry, and the sudden change in tone catches him off-guard. He was expecting defensiveness, maybe a little bit of anger. Instead, you sound...

Well, he can't really place it.

Crosshair nods, and he can feel his cheeks heat up. It's probably because he's angry. It has nothing to do with the way you're looking at him, the way your eyes rake over him, or the way your lips are curled up ever so slightly in a hint of a smile.

You clear your throat and gesture to the seat in front of you. He settles in it, not because you told him to, but because it seems like the polite thing to do. And because he wants to sit down.

Once he's seated, you fold your hands and place them on the desk, giving him your full attention. "I'm glad you're here."

That throws him. "You are?"

"Of course," you say, and the smile on your face is nothing short of dazzling. "I've been hoping to meet you for a while now. Omega speaks so highly of you, and I have to say, I was looking forward to finally meeting the man who's been helping her with her assignments."

And then, you do something Crosshair wasn't expecting. You extend your hand, offering a handshake.

He looks down at your hand, your fingers spread out, palm facing up. Your nails are painted a bright shade of pink, and there's a small smear of what looks like ink near the tip of your index finger. He glances up at your face, and you're smiling at him, the corners of your eyes crinkling a bit as you do.

His stomach does a weird flip, and his chest suddenly feels a lot warmer. He doesn't know what it is about your smile, your eyes, your voice, but it's...nice.

You're nice.

He doesn't take your hand.

You pull it away, but the smile doesn't leave your face. You don't seem offended or hurt, and you're still looking at him with an expression that can only be described as genuine kindness.

Crosshair swallows the lump in his throat. It's getting harder to stay angry, but he does his best to cling to his resolve. 

"You graded her report wrong,” he hisses.

He expects you to get defensive, maybe even offended. After all, no one likes having their work challenged. But instead, you just sigh.

You look down at your desk, grabbing the stylus and twirling it between your fingers. The light reflects off the smooth surface, glinting off the tip of the tool, and the movement is almost hypnotic. He has to force himself to look away, to focus on your face.

For the first time since he barged into your classroom, he notices the tiredness in your eyes. It's subtle, and he doesn't think anyone else would notice, but the way your shoulders sag is a dead giveaway. You look exhausted, and Crosshair suddenly feels an odd pang of guilty for dropping in on you like this.

Your smile is tight when you look up at him again..

"I can explain my rationale, if you'd like," you say, and it's not a question. It's a statement.

He's not sure if he should be annoyed by that or not, but he nods regardless.

"Thank you." 

You reach for a datapad laying haphazardly across your desk and tap away for a moment, before you hold it out for him to take. His fingers brush yours as he accepts it, and the touch sends a tingle up his arm. He tries not to show it, though, and busies himself by looking over the file as you speak.

"I know Omega has been struggling in my class, and I've done everything I can to make sure she has the support she needs. But, unfortunately, there's not a lot I can do when the curriculum is so..."

You pause, and he raises an eyebrow. "So what?"

"Well, it's not exactly tailored for her," you finish, and the small laugh you let out is strained. You shrug, a gesture that's supposed to be nonchalant, but he can see the tension in your shoulders.

He hums, nodding along as you continue to talk.

"I don't usually get students like Omega, you know? Kids who've already seen the world and have lived through so much more than their peers. And that's great, I mean, it's awesome. She's a brilliant kid, and she has such a great sense of herself, but I'm not equipped to handle a student like her."

Crosshair stops scrolling, his thumb hovering over the screen. He looks up at you, and you're staring back, chewing on your bottom lip.

He swallows the lump in his throat and nods. "So, what does that mean?"

"It means..." You trail off, letting out a sigh and shaking your head. You look away, turning to stare out the window behind you. The sun is setting, and the last rays of the day are reflecting off the buildings in the distance, bathing the room in an orange glow.

He watches the way the light illuminates your face, highlighting the curves and lines. It's not the first time he's found himself admiring the way someone looks, but it's the first time it's left him feeling like his heart's about to burst out of his chest.

It's not until you turn back to face him, the light fading, does he realize he's been holding his breath.

"I'm sorry, what was I saying?" you ask, and he's not sure if it's the lighting or his imagination, but he swears there's a faint flush creeping up your neck and cheeks.

"You were talking about the report," he says, his voice a little softer than usual.

You blink. "Oh, right. Of course." You clear your throat, sitting up a little straighter, and Crosshair has to remind himself not to lean in. "I graded the report based on how she did against the curriculum."

"Which is stupid."

"Yeah, I know." You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and Crosshair tracks the movement. "But it's how it works, unfortunately. We have a certain set of standards we have to abide by, and unfortunately, Omega's interpretation of the story was outside those standards."

"So? Her analysis is solid, and you know it," he says.

"It is," you agree, and the corner of your mouth twitches up into a half-smile. Your eyes are soft and full of understanding, and Crosshair has to look away.

"Her argument was well-researched, and her points were valid," you say, and it's with an apologetic tone. "But she also failed to follow directions."

Crosshair blinks.

That's not right.

"What?"

"She was asked to write a report on her thoughts and opinions on a classic work, and her interpretation of the story was excellent, but..."

"But what?" He knows he's being defensive, and he's not sure why, but the thought of you grading her unfairly, giving her a low score because of something that was his fault, makes his blood boil.

He takes a deep breath and leans back in his chair, folding his arms and forcing himself to relax.

You don't seem bothered by his attitude, though. In fact, you just smile at him.

"Well, she did a wonderful job of explaining her interpretation, but she failed to stick to the author's original meaning," you explain. "And while I understand why she was interpreting the text the way she was, and I'm happy she's able to do that, she was asked to write a paper specifically about the author's intended meaning."

Crosshair doesn't respond. He stares at you, his lips pressed together, trying his hardest to stay calm.

He has to admit, it makes sense. You're just doing your job, and the fact that you're even taking the time to explain it to him is a testament to how hard you're trying. But that doesn't make the situation any easier, and the disappointment in Omega’s voice when she'd shown him her report earlier that day is still fresh in his mind.

"It doesn't change the fact that she's brilliant," you say, interrupting his train of thought.

He snaps his head up, staring at you, and the expression on your face is almost...tender. You're not just saying it to placate him, or to try and get him to leave. No, you mean it. He didn't realize just how much you cared about his sister, and he's taken aback by how sincere you are.

"Omega is an incredibly intelligent young woman, and I am in awe of her every day." You lean forward, your elbows resting on the desk. You're smiling, but there's a hint of sadness in your eyes, and the way you speak, the words that spill out of your mouth, are genuine. "I can't begin to imagine the things she's been through, and I know that's not an excuse for how difficult I've been, but I'm sorry. I really am."

The anger he'd been holding onto melts away, replaced by a strange mixture of pride and confusion. He's proud that you care so much about Omega, and confused by how much it seems to affect him. He'd expected you to be stubborn, maybe even rude. But this? This isn't anything like the image he'd conjured up in his mind.

It's...

Nice.

"So, what now?" he asks.

"Well," you start, and the smile on your face turns mischievous, "you're welcome to challenge my grade. You can go to the school board, or we can go to the principal's office. You could even submit a formal complaint, or—"

"No," he interrupts, and his cheeks flush when he realizes how fast the word came out. He clears his throat, trying to compose himself, and says, "I meant, what do we do? To help her?"

"Oh." You blink, clearly surprised.

He's not sure why. Does he come off as the type of person who would file a formal complaint over a grade?

Probably, actually.

"Right," you say, and you take a moment to collect your thoughts. "Well, there's not a lot we can do. This was her last chance to make up for her last test score, and I'm afraid she'll have to repeat the class next year."

"There has to be something you can do," he insists. The words fall out of his mouth before his brain catches up, and he's already cringing internally at how desperate he sounds.

"Look," you sigh. "You're not the first parent to come in here at the end of the semester and ask me to raise a grade. But, if I raised Omega's grade, then I would have to raise the grades of everyone else who turned in a similar report. And I can't do that."

"You can't be serious," he scoffs, rolling his eyes.

"I am," you say, an edge to your voice. "It wouldn't be fair."

"Life's not fair."

"Yeah, no kidding." You huff a humorless laugh. Your lips purse, and he can tell you're holding back a glare. 

He knows he's pushing his luck, and he's starting to feel like an idiot, but he can't help himself.

"You can't honestly tell me that there's nothing we can do."

Your eyes flicker away from his, and your gaze drifts down to the datapad. He can see your mind working, can see the gears turning as you mull over your options. You chew on your lower lip, and Crosshair tries not to stare, but it's a struggle.

He's never met someone who could have him going from angry to intrigued in the span of a few minutes, and he's not sure why he's so fixated on you. Maybe it's the way you're not afraid to stand your ground against him, or maybe it's the fact that you seem genuinely concerned about his sister's wellbeing. Or maybe it's just the way you look, with your bright eyes and kind smile, and the way you're clearly trying your best to make a difference.

Whatever it is, it's working.

"There is one thing," you say, after what feels like an eternity.

"What?"

You take a deep breath, as if bracing yourself, and meet his eyes.

"I can't raise her grade, but I could offer her some extra credit, if she'd like. It's not a guarantee, and I'd have to see her improvement before I decided to give her the points, but it's an option."

"Yes." The word slips out before he can stop himself, and he mentally curses at his own eagerness.

You arch an eyebrow.

"She'd like that." He clears his throat and forces himself to sound casual, unbothered. "If you're willing."

"Of course." You smile at him, and the warmth that spreads through his chest is...weird. But not unpleasant.

He's not sure what he did to deserve that look, that smile, but he decides he doesn't hate it.

"I'll tell her," he says, and he gets to his feet.

You stand as well, and the height difference between the two of you is not lost on him. He has to look down to meet your eyes, and the way you have to tilt your head up makes him feel strangely amused.

He's used to looking down at people, and most of the time, it makes him feel superior. But right now, he just feels...

Well, he doesn't really know how to describe it.

"Thanks," he says, and the word sounds foreign on his tongue. It's not something he's used to saying, especially to a stranger. He's not even sure what he's thanking you for, exactly, but it feels appropriate.

"You're welcome," you say, a grin on your face that's almost too wide, too bright, too much. "Oh, one more thing."

He hums, and you take a step closer around the desk. You're a foot or so away from him, close enough that he can smell the perfume you use, the floral scent filling his senses. He swallows hard and tries to ignore the way his pulse is racing.

You're not making this easy for him.

"We had a chaperone drop out last minute for the end of the year field trip," you explain. "If you have the time, would you be interested in helping me out? We're going to the spaceport museum."

Crosshair has no interest in a bunch of kids running around a museum, and he's about to decline, but the look on your face stops him.

The pleading look in your eyes, the way your eyebrows are knitted together, the slight pout of your lips. He knows what you're doing, and he doesn't like it. He's not the kind of man who caves to pretty girls asking him for favors, and he's definitely not going to cave now.

He's stronger than this. He can resist the urge. He's a trained soldier, a skilled marksman, and he's not about to give in to the will of a cute teacher.

He's stronger than this.

"I'll do it," he hears himself say.

Fuck.

"Perfect." Your eyes light up, and your smile widens. You're practically beaming, and it's like looking directly at the sun. "I'll send you the details. Thank you, Crosshair. I'll see you soon."

"Yeah," he says, struggling to think of a clever response, but coming up empty. He doesn't have a chance to say anything else before you're practically shoving him out the door.

When he turns back to face you, he sees you wave, and then the door is shut, and you're gone.

The silence of the hallways is suddenly too much, and he has to force himself to take a deep breath.

He's in trouble.

The trip is a nightmare.

It's not your fault. If anything, you've gone above and beyond to keep the kids in line. Crosshair's watched you run after them, chasing them through the exhibit and reminding them that they're not allowed to touch things. And, for the most part, the kids are well-behaved. There are a handful of them that seem to have a problem listening, but you've got the rest under control.

He has to hand it to you. It's impressive, and a little endearing, how hard you're trying. He knows you're exhausted, can see it in the way your shoulders sag when the kids start talking over you, can see it in the way you sigh when one of them pushes their way past you.

But the kids are bored, and he can't blame them. It's a pretty lame field trip, and he doesn't really understand the point of bringing them here. What is a museum, anyway, if not a place to look at cool, old ships?

So far, all they've done is look at boring, historical texts, and listen to you drone on about the importance of space travel and the role its played in storytelling throughout the galaxy.

The whole thing is dull, and he doesn't have the patience for this. He wants to go home and do literally anything else, and if he has to listen to one more kid whine about being bored, he's going to scream.

At least, that's what he tells himself.

Really, he's not bored.

In fact, he's quite the opposite.

He's fascinated.

It's the way you speak, the passion and excitement in your voice. He finds himself watching the way your lips move, the way your eyes sparkle with amusement. It's the same sparkle they had the other night, when he'd confronted you in the classroom. It's the same one that's been haunting him for the past week, and it's the reason why he's stuck here, in a crowded museum, surrounded by dozens of prepubescent teenagers, all while his brothers are back at home, probably having fun without him.

And, as if things weren't already bad enough, you're wearing the cutest outfit he's ever seen. It's a dress, the kind that flows down to your ankles, and it's got tiny flowers all over it. Your hair is pulled up into a high ponytail, tied back with a pink ribbon, and it swishes back and forth as you walk.

Crosshair's not usually one for dresses, and he's definitely not a fan of the color pink. But on you? It works.

It's almost unfair, really.

No, it's extremely unfair.

He's spent the entire day stealing glances at you, trying his best not to be obvious, and Omega is catching onto him. She keeps smirking at him, her eyes narrowed, and he's pretty sure she's been teasing him. He'll get caught staring at you, and she'll elbow him in the ribs and wink at him.

It's annoying, and he hates it.

Not as much as he hates himself, though.

Because he knows better. He knows it's wrong, knows it's stupid, and yet, he can't seem to stop himself.

And the worst part is, you don't even seem to notice. You're so busy trying to keep the kids in check, to keep them from causing a scene, that you're not paying any attention to him. He's grateful for that, because he's not sure how he'd handle the embarrassment.

But, at the same time, he wishes you would look at him. Just once. Just a quick glance, a tiny smile, a small nod. Something.

He sighs.

It's been a long day, and he's tired.

He's standing near the entrance, keeping an eye on the group of students, Omega included. They're currently huddled around a holoexhibit, and he watches as you answer their questions and explain the significance of each ship. You have the patience of a saint, and he has no idea how you do it. The questions they're asking are ridiculous, and a few of them are just flat out wrong.

Crosshair's tempted to go over and tell them how stupid they are, to get them to give you a break, but he refrains. He's not supposed to be getting involved, after all. This is your job, and he's just here to make sure the kids stay safe.

But he's not about to let them cause a scene.

A flash of metal catches his attention, and he frowns. One of the kids, a Rodian, is standing on a platform, and his hand is hovering over a lever. Crosshair doesn't need to read the label to know what the kid is thinking. He's been watching this one eye this exact display all morning, and he's been waiting for him to finally get brave enough to try his luck.

The kid reaches out, and before he can touch the lever, Crosshair strides across the room. He grabs his wrist, his grip firm, and pulls his hand away. The Rodian squawks in surprise, and Crosshair glares down at him. He's not tall, not for a Rodian, and it's easy for Crosshair to loom over him.

"Don't touch that," he growls.

"I-I wasn't gonna," the kid stammers, and his eyes dart towards the exit. He looks ready to bolt, and Crosshair would find it funny if it weren't for the way the rest of the kids are staring at him.

"Bullshit."

"Language," you scold, and Crosshair turns his head to see you approaching him, an exasperated look on your face. You have your hands on your hips, and you look like you're ready to lecture him instead of the kid who was about to activate the simulator without permission.

He raises an eyebrow at you, challenging you.

"You shouldn't swear in front of children," you say, your tone matter-of-fact.

"Well, maybe they shouldn't touch shit that's not theirs," he retorts, and he shoots the kid a pointed look.

"Crosshair!"

You're glaring at him now, and he knows he should feel bad, but he doesn't. He can't. Your cheeks are flushed, and your brows are furrowed, and you're trying so hard to look stern and serious, but it's not working. He's not sure why, but seeing you angry is a lot more appealing than it should be.

It makes him want to push your buttons.

"If I catch you touching this again, I'll throw you out," he warns the kid, and he lets go of his wrist. "Got it?"

The kid nods, and then he's dashing back to the rest of the group, a look of fear on his face.

"What is wrong with you?" you demand, and Crosshair looks down at you, fighting the urge to smirk. You're still glaring at him, but the flush on your cheeks is a shade darker now, and he can't help but feel a little proud of himself.

"I'm just doing my job," he says, and the smirk he'd been fighting is making its way onto his face now.

Your eyes widen. "Your job is to make sure the kids are safe, not threaten them."

"I wasn't threatening him," he scoffs.

"Yes, you were."

"No, I wasn't."

"Yes, you—"

"Okay, fine, maybe I was. A little," he admits, and you shake your head, a huff escaping you. The glare falls away, and the look on your face is softer now, a little less annoyed, and a lot more amused.

"I had it handled," you tell him, and there's a hint of teasing in your tone now, too.

"Yeah, it looked like it."

"Crosshair," you warn, but the corners of your lips are twitching upwards, betraying the seriousness of your voice.

"What? I'm just trying to help," he says, and the shrug he gives is a little more smug than it should be.

Crosshair isn't trying to antagonize you, not really. He's just...testing the waters, he supposes. Seeing how far he can push you, seeing how much you can take before you crack, and he has to admit that you're holding up pretty well so far. Most people would've told him off, or stormed off by now, but not you.

No, you're still here.

You're standing in front of him, your arms folded across your chest, trying your very best not to smile at him.

You're enjoying this.

The realization hits him like a punch to the gut, and he has to force himself to breathe normally. He's not sure why that's such a revelation, but it is. You're enjoying his company, enjoying the back-and-forth, and it makes him feel lighter than air.

"Are you always this much of an ass?" you ask, and his eyes widen at the sudden vulgarity, but he recovers quickly. He likes it, actually. The bluntness, the honesty. It's refreshing, and a lot more than he expected from you.

Crosshair smirks. "Now who's swearing in front of children?"

"They're not paying attention."

"Oh, right, because the exhibit on the history of intergalactic trade is so exciting," he says, and you snort, shaking your head.

"Yeah, you're not wrong," you admit, and he chuckles.

"I know."

"Of course you do," you mutter sarcastically. But, the annoyance has faded, and there's a smile on your face as you turn to look at the kids, so Crosshair considers it a win.

You stand there, next to him, your arms folded, and you watch as the kids slowly make their way through the exhibit. They're talking among themselves, completely oblivious to the exchange between the two of you. It's a bit of a relief, because he's not sure what they would make of the fact that he's flirting with their teacher.

Is he flirting?

No, that's not right.

He's not flirting.

He's just being...friendly. He's just making conversation, and there's nothing wrong with that. It's not his fault that you're easy to talk to.

Omega is the only one looking in his direction, and he doesn't miss the grin on her face. He shoots her a look, a warning, and she winks at him. He glares, and she sticks her tongue out.

Great.

He's definitely going to hear about this later.

"You're not exactly what I was expecting," you say quietly. 

Crosshair looks back at you, his heart skipping a beat when he realizes just how close you are. You're standing next to him, shoulder to shoulder, and you're looking up at him, the same sparkle in your eyes as before. There’s a hint of a smile on your lips, and you seem...pleased.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" he asks, and he's almost afraid to know the answer.

"A good thing, of course." You nudge him playfully with your elbow, and the touch sends a jolt of electricity up his arm. "I'm glad I was wrong."

"Yeah, me too."

You laugh at that, and he smiles, more than a little pleased with himself. It's an unexpected, but pleasant, reaction, and he finds himself wanting to make you laugh again.

"Anyway," you say, taking a step back. "Thanks for keeping the kids in line. I really appreciate it."

He shrugs. "It's nothing."

"No, really." You look up at him, your eyes bright, and you give him a sympathetic smile. "I know this isn't exactly what you signed up for."

"It's not so bad."

You raise an eyebrow, clearly skeptical.

"I mean, it's boring as hell," he admits, and the way your nose scrunches up as you laugh is adorable. He clears his throat and tries to focus. "But it's not awful. The company's...bearable."

You tilt your head to the side, and your eyes narrow. "Thanks, I think."

"Don't mention it."

"So," you start, a slight hesitation in your voice, "does this mean you're not going to file a complaint against me?"

"I wouldn't go that far," Crosshair teases. The way your eyes widen is enough to make him chuckle. "But I guess I can let it slide. For now."

"For now," you repeat, and you let out a breath. You shake your head and look up at him, the ghost of a smile on your lips. "Well, I'll take it. Now, let's get back to the kids, shall we?"

"After you," he says, gesturing for you to lead the way.

He follows after you, and he tries his best not to stare at the sway of your hips as you walk. He fails, but only a little bit.

And, if he catches you glancing back at him every so often, well, he's not complaining.

Omega is practically bouncing on her heels as they make their way down the street, heading home from the school. She's talking a mile a minute, her eyes bright, and she's still somehow full of energy despite the long day they've had. Crosshair can't quite keep up with her, and he's having trouble focusing on her words. He has no idea how you manage to do this every day, and he feels a little bad for thinking that teaching is an easy job.

She's going on about the trip, how much fun she had, and she's not slowing down. Crosshair doesn't mind, though. He's content to listen to her, and he's not going to stop her from gushing about her day. He does the same thing for her he’s always done for Tech, humming and nodding in the right places, and he knows that it makes her feel good to talk.

Besides, he's too distracted by his own thoughts to focus on what she's saying.

He's spent the last hour replaying the events of the day in his mind, trying to make sense of everything. The way you'd looked at him, the way you'd laughed, the way you'd teased him. It's all a little overwhelming, and he's not sure how to process it.

Crosshair isn't the kind of person who gets all worked up over a pretty girl. He’s not even the kind of person who gets all worked up, period.

But something about you, the way you carry yourself, the way you smile, the way you look at him. It's different.

You're different.

He doesn't know what to do with that information, and he's not sure he likes it. For all he knows, you're just being nice, just trying to be polite so he doesn’t give you a hard time. It wouldn't be the first time someone's done that.

Crosshair has been told his whole life that he's difficult to deal with, and he's learned to live with that. He's used to people being afraid of him, and he's used to people not wanting to be around him. He used to take pride in the fact that people were scared of him, but lately, it's started to wear on him.

Maybe it's because of his brothers, the way they've started to change, the way they've become softer. Or maybe it's because of Omega, the way she looks up to him, the way she trusts him, the way she thinks he's capable of great things.

Either way, he can't deny that he's a little lonely.

And maybe a little curious.

"Crosshair," Omega says, and the sharpness in her voice catches his attention. She's stopped walking, and she's giving him a look, her eyes narrowed. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Huh?" He blinks, and then he frowns. "Yeah, of course."

"Then, what did I just say?" she challenges, her hands on her hips, her head tilted up.

He pauses, and then sighs. "No, not really."

"I knew it!" she exclaims, throwing her hands up. "You were totally spacing out."

"I was not."

"Yes, you were," she argues, and she crosses her arms over her chest. "What were you thinking about?"

"Nothing."

"Really? Because you look like you're thinking about something."

"Nope," he lies. Crosshair turns his head away from her, pretending to look at something else. There's a few vendors pulling in their stands in front of them, closing up for the evening, and he watches them, trying to avoid Omega's gaze. The florist is packing up his display, and the bright, colorful flowers draw his attention. He tries to ignore the fact that they remind him of your dress.

"Are you sure? You seem...weird."

"I'm fine."

"Are you thinking about the field trip?" she asks, and he can hear the smugness in her voice. "About Miss—"

"Omega." He snaps his head back towards her, his eyes wide, and he gives her a warning look.

"What?" she says, feigning innocence, and he groans.

"Just drop it," he mutters, and he turns to keep walking.

"I can't," she says, following after him. She has to jog slightly to keep up with his hurried pace, but it does nothing to deter her. "You like her."

"Of course I like her. She’s nice,” he replies. His tone comes out more defensive than casual, and he grimaces internally.

"No, you really like her."

Crosshair opens his mouth, ready to defend himself. There's no way that's true. It's impossible. He barely knows you, and you're just his sister's teacher. 

Just a pretty, sweet, kind teacher who cares about her students and isn't afraid to push the boundaries to help them learn. Who didn't back down when he challenged her, and didn't hesitate to stand her ground when he was being an ass. 

Who smiles at him and looks at him like he's worth something, like he's important, like he matters. Who laughs at his pathetic attempts at humor and makes him feel like he's not a complete waste of space, like maybe there's something worthwhile inside of him after all. Like maybe, just maybe, there's a chance for him.

Shit.

He shakes his head. "You're crazy."

"Am not," she insists, and she skips in front of him, forcing him to stop. "I won't tell anyone."

"Omega—"

"You know, she's single," she continues with a knowing, smug grin, and it reminds him so much of Hunter that he has to take a deep breath and count to ten before he can speak again. And even then, he's still annoyed.

"How the hell do you know that?" he demands, his eyebrows raised.

"I overheard her talking to the other teachers during lunch," she explains, and the smugness fades, replaced by a sheepish smile.

"You shouldn't eavesdrop," he chastises, though he's a little too preoccupied with the new information to put much force behind the words.

"I didn't mean to," she says with a shrug. "I was looking for her, and I found her, and they were talking about her, so..."

"So, what else did you hear?" he asks, trying his best to sound disinterested.

"Nothing."

"Omega," he warns.

"I didn't hear anything!" she insists, her eyes wide. After a beat, a smirk forms on her face, and her eyes narrow. "Why? Did you want to know something else?"

"No," he snaps, a little too quickly. "Just forget it."

"But—"

"It's not important," he says, cutting her off as he steps around her and continues walking. He hears her groan in frustration, and he smirks to himself. Serves her right.

"Wait!" She hurries after him, her hands gripping the strap of her bag tightly as she catches up. She's practically running now, trying her best to match his long strides, and her breathing is a little heavier than normal. "Crosshair, slow down."

"No."

She huffs. "I'm just saying—"

"Omega, enough."

"I think she likes you, too."

Crosshair stops walking abruptly, and Omega almost collides with him. He turns his head towards her, his eyebrows raised, and she takes a step back.

"What makes you say that?" he asks. He knows he's being foolish, letting her bait him like this, but he can't help himself. The hopeful note in her voice is hard to ignore, and he's suddenly feeling a lot more optimistic than he should.

"Because she kept looking at you," she explains.

"No, she didn't."

"Yes, she did," she argues. "She was looking at you, like, the entire time. The whole trip. I'm surprised you didn't notice."

"You're exaggerating," he mutters, trying to hide the flush in his cheeks.

"I'm not," she says, shaking her head. "I was keeping track."

"You know, if you paid half as much attention to your schoolwork as you do to gossiping, neither of us would be in this mess," he retorts.

"Hey! That's not true," Omega pouts. "I learned everything I need to know about intergalactic trade from Tech. I'm good."

Crosshair can't help but smile at that, and Omega grins back at him. They start walking again, this time a little slower, and she reaches for his hand, grabbing hold of his fingers.

"But you like her, right?" she asks, tilting her head up at him.

"She's...nice," he admits, and the look on her face tells him that's not enough. He sighs and rubs the back of his neck with his prosthetic hand. "I don't know. Maybe."

"You should ask her out."

"Yeah, I don't think that's a good idea," he mutters, shaking his head.

"Why not?"

"I don't know. I barely know her."

"So? Just get to know her," Omega says, and he sighs.

"It's not that simple."

"Why not?"

"Because..." Crosshair hesitates, trying to think of a reason. The truth is, he's never really had to deal with this kind of situation. He's not exactly the best when it comes to social interactions, and his history with romantic relationships is...limited. It's not something he's ever bothered to think about, but now that it's staring him in the face, he feels woefully unprepared.

"What if she says no?"

"Well, what if she says yes?"

Crosshair doesn't respond. If he's being honest, he hadn't even considered the possibility of you saying yes. He'd been so focused on the negative outcome, the embarrassment, the awkwardness, that he'd completely forgotten about the other side of the equation. What if you did say yes? What would he do then? Would he be happy? Relieved? Or would he be even more nervous than before?

"I don't know," he finally admits.

"You should ask her," Omega urges. "At least, think about it."

"Maybe," he says, and she frowns, clearly not satisfied with the answer. He sighs, and then gives her hand a squeeze. "I'll think about it."

"Okay," she grumbles, and the two of them continue walking, falling into a comfortable silence. It's quiet between them all the way to the front door, and he's almost home free, his hand hovering over the sensor pad, when Omega speaks up.

"I'm just saying," she starts, and he groans, "you should go for it."

"I'm done having this conversation," he grumbles as he tugs her inside, slamming the door behind him. He can hear voices coming from the kitchen, and he freezes, holding fast to her wrist.

"You have to promise not to tell them."

"Okay, okay, I promise," she says, rolling her eyes, and she tugs her arm away.

"No, not okay," he says. "If you tell them, I'll kill you."

"Okay, fine," she huffs, and he narrows his eyes at her.

"I'm serious," he says, his tone low, threatening. It doesn't work on Omega, not anymore, and she just looks up at him, unbothered.

"So am I."

"Fine." Crosshair sighs, deflating, and then, before he can stop himself, the words are spilling out. "So, what do I do?"

Omega's face lights up, a grin so wide it nearly splits her face in two, and he regrets the question almost instantly. "I'll help you."

"What?"

"I'll help you," she repeats.

"You're kidding," he deadpans.

"No," she says, shaking her head. "I have a great idea. Trust me."

"Omega—"

"I promise, you won't regret it," she says, and then, she's gone, dashing off towards the kitchen where Hunter and Wrecker are arguing about dinner.

Crosshair watches her go, and then, with a groan, he drags his hand over his face.

What has he gotten himself into?

The next few weeks are a blur. Omega's been keeping him busy, asking him to help her with homework, walking her to and from school, and the whole time, he's wondering when she's going to bring up her big plan.

She managed to get a score high enough on her extra credit in your class to pull her grade up, and Hunter nearly fell over when he found out. You'd sent a letter home with her, letting them know how impressed you were, and both Hunter and Wrecker wouldn't shut up about it for days. Omega's been bragging about it, too, and Crosshair's heard her go on about how smart and amazing and brilliant and perfect you are, over and over again.

She hasn't brought up her big plan again, though, and Crosshair's grateful. She has, however, started dropping hints here and there, meddling in ways that she shouldn't, and it's getting old, fast. 

He's already had to stop her from inviting you over for dinner, twice, and he's not sure how much longer he can keep her from blowing his cover. More than once, Omega's forgotten her datapad at home, and he's had to drop everything to run it to the school. It's a pain in the ass, but at least it gives him an excuse to see you.

And he sees you, a lot more than he should.

He tries not to get too excited about it, tries not to think too hard about what it means, but it's impossible. Omega's made it her mission to get the two of you alone together, and he can't help but feel a bit like a pawn in her scheme, one that she refuses to share with him. Not that it matters, because it's working.

You're talking to him.

In fact, the two of you have spent so much time together over the last few weeks, that it's almost weird when he doesn't see you. Every morning, when he drops Omega off at school, he makes sure to walk her inside. You're always there, and he doesn't miss the way you look up when the door opens or the way you smile when you see him. You're usually sitting at your desk, grading papers, or helping a student, and he's quick to leave before anyone notices how long he's standing there. 

But every once in a while, when he's lucky, you're standing at the front of the room, and the two of you are able to exchange a few words. It's nothing too special, and it's not as if you're exchanging life stories or anything, but it's enough. It's more than he could've hoped for, and it's better than the alternative, which is absolutely nothing. He even brought you coffee one day, after you'd stayed late to work on a project with Omega, and you'd blushed.

Blushed.

For him.

Crosshair would be lying if he said he hadn't enjoyed that. It's nice, having someone to talk to, and it's nice, being able to see you smile. Even if it's only for a minute or two, and even if his brothers are constantly giving him shit for it.

He's not an idiot. He knows they're all watching him, waiting to see how this plays out, and he's doing his best not to give them any ammunition. Omega's already told him, several times, that they're rooting for him, and he's not sure how to feel about that. The last thing he needs is everyone butting into his business, and he's hoping that Omega will keep her word and keep her mouth shut.

He's not going to say anything, not until he's absolutely sure. And, even then, he'll probably wait. The only problem is, he's almost certain he's run out of time.

Crosshair has been keeping a mental countdown, counting down the days until Omega's finished with school, and it's come up a lot sooner than he'd expected. The semester is over, and it's officially summer vacation, which means you're no longer Omega's teacher. And with that, comes an end to whatever small shred of hope he'd had that something might happen, that whatever plan Omega had in mind would work, and the two of you would end up together.

Which is fine.

Really, it's fine.

He's not hurt. He's not disappointed. He's not anything. He doesn't care, not one bit, and he definitely isn't sulking, not at all, because that would be ridiculous.

It's just a crush. A silly, stupid, fleeting thing, and it's not worth getting upset about. It's not like anything would've happened between the two of you. You're way out of his league, and he knows that.

But still.

He can't deny that he misses the daily interaction, the brief exchanges, the occasional smiles. He can't deny that he'd enjoyed it, and now that it's over, he feels a little lost. 

He jumped at the chance to go to the summer festival with everyone, partly because he didn't want to be home alone, and partly because he was hoping to run into you there. Which is stupid, and foolish, and pathetic, but he can't help himself. He'd overheard you telling Omega that you'd be there, and it's the closest thing he has to a sign, and so, he's taking it.

Besides, Hunter practically ordered him to go, so it's not like he had a choice.

So, here he is, standing off to the side, watching the rest of the family enjoying themselves. It's still early, and the real festivities won't begin until the sun starts to set, but everyone is already in a good mood. He tries his best not to ruin it with his attitude, but he knows he's doing a shitty job of it, and it doesn't help that they're teasing him relentlessly.

"You're moping."

Crosshair sighs and rolls his eyes as Hunter bumps him with his elbow. He's been standing next to him, staring out into the crowd, and he doesn't turn his head when his brother speaks.

"No, I'm not," he replies.

"Yes, you are," Hunter says. He takes a sip of his drink, and then, nudges him again. "Is this about your girlfriend?"

"Shut up," Crosshair grumbles, and he elbows him back, a little harder than necessary. Some of Hunter’s drink spills, and he feels a small flash of satisfaction.

"Ow."

"Leave me alone," he says, and Hunter snorts.

"No, I'm not gonna do that," Hunter says, a hint of amusement in his voice. "It's too easy."

Crosshair groans, and turns his head away, trying his best to ignore him. It doesn't work.

"Come on, just ask her out," Hunter urges, and Crosshair glares at him.

He can hear Wrecker snickering behind him, and when he turns around, the look on his face tells him everything he needs to know. He must've been listening in the whole time.

"What's the worst that could happen?" Hunter continues.

"I could make an idiot out of myself," Crosshair replies.

"So? You already do that every day," Wrecker jokes, and he winces when Hunter smacks him.

"Not helping," Hunter mutters, and Wrecker just shrugs.

"Look," Hunter says, turning back towards him, "if she says no, at least you'll know, and you can stop worrying about it."

Crosshair doesn't respond, too caught up in the sight of you weaving your way through the crowd. You're wearing a sundress, a cute little thing that ends just above your knees, and a flower crown sitting atop of your head, and he can't take his eyes off of you. 

You're walking with Omega's art teacher, a Rutian Twi’Lek laden with jewelry, talking and gesturing animatedly. She has her hands full with decorations for the festival, and you're trying to help, but she keeps shooing you away. He can see the pout on your face, and he can't help but smile, just a little, and then you turn your head and catch Crosshair staring.

He doesn't have time to look away.

He doesn't even have time to try.

Instead, he watches, frozen, as your eyes lock with his. Your face lights up, a bright smile on your lips, and you wave at him. He feels his hand lift in acknowledgement despite himself, and he can't stop the way his lips quirk up into a half-smile. 

He can see Omega trailing after the two of you, a stack of posters in her hands, and she's saying something, but he can't hear her. The only thing he can hear is his heart pounding in his ears, and the only thing he can see is you, your face flushed, and a look in your eyes that's far too soft for him to know what to do with.

"Wow," Hunter says, breaking the spell, and he blinks, the image of you in front of him fading, replaced by his brother's annoying smirk.

"What?"

"I knew you liked her, but I didn't know it was this bad," Hunter says.

"Oh, come on," Wrecker teases, a big grin spreading across his face. "He's in love."

Crosshair can't stop the growl of frustration that leaves him, and the sound makes his brothers laugh. He wants to shove them, or punch them, or something, but he doesn't have the chance.

You’re walking over.

You're heading in their direction, and Crosshair panics, unsure of what to do. He doesn't know how to be anything other than aloof and rude, and he's afraid he'll say something stupid and embarrass himself. He doesn't want to mess this up, and he's terrified he'll ruin everything if he says the wrong thing.

He looks at Hunter, a desperate plea in his eyes, but his brother is no help. Instead, he just smirks and shrugs, nudging Wrecker.

"We should go check on Omega," he says, his tone is casual. "C'mon, Wrecker."

Wrecker doesn't argue, and he doesn't hesitate, following Hunter without a word. Before he can blink, they're gone, and it's just the two of you. Crosshair's not sure if it's better or worse.

"Hi," you say, your voice soft as you come to a stop in front of him.

Your cheeks are flushed, and you're fidgeting. He finds it endearing, and the fact that you're just as flustered as he is makes him feel a little bit better.

"Hey," he says, his voice coming out a bit raspier than he'd intended. He clears his throat, and then nods towards your companion. "Are you having fun?"

You tilt your head and look back over your shoulder, and Crosshair doesn't miss the slight roll of your eyes.

"Yeah, I'm having a blast," you deadpan, and he can't help but laugh. He's grown used to your particular brand of sarcasm over the past few weeks, the kind that only seems to come out when he's around, and he's come to enjoy the way it sounds when it's aimed at someone else.

"Don't worry," he says, "we can be miserable together."

"Well, that's not very festive," you reply, and there's a teasing edge to your voice. "What did the festival ever do to you?"

"Nothing, I just don't like people."

"Fair enough," you say with a laugh. "So, what brings you here?"

"Omega."

"Ah." You nod, and a soft smile forms on your face. "Of course. She told me you'll be helping us out later. Thanks, by the way."

Crosshair raises an eyebrow.

This is news to him.

"Uh, yeah," he says slowly, his eyes narrowing. "What did she say, exactly?"

"She said you'd be helping with the games." You tilt your head and look up at him, confusion in your eyes. "Is that...not true?"

He stares back at you, unsure of what to say. He's never agreed to anything like that, and the idea of working with children is...unappealing, to say the least. He can't imagine why Omega would've said that.

The realization hits him, and his eyes widen.

That little brat.

She set him up.

She's been planning this, and he was too distracted with moping to realize it. He'd let her walk all over him, and now, he's going to have to play along. Because there's no way in hell he's going to tell you the truth, not now, not when you're looking up at him, expectant and hopeful.

"Yeah, no," he lies, shaking his head. "She's right. I'll be there."

"Great," you say, and he's pretty sure you actually mean it. "I'm running the scavenger hunt. And, if you wanted, I could use a partner."

Crosshair blinks, brain stuttering over the word partner, and he must look like an idiot, because you start to backtrack.

"But, you probably have better things to do. I'm sure there's someone else who would love to help. I just thought—"

"No, no, I'll help," he interrupts, and you stop, giving him a grateful look.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Your smile is so bright, so radiant, that it makes his heart ache. He can't remember the last time someone was this happy to spend time with him. He's not used to feeling wanted, and the knowledge that you enjoy his company fills him with a sense of pride he's not quite prepared for.

"But," he starts, his eyebrows raised, "you owe me."

"I know, I know," you say with a laugh. "Anything you want."

"I'm serious," he insists, though the smirk on his face betrays his words. "I'm doing this under duress. I'm being held against my will."

"I'll make it worth your while," you tease, and the way your eyes flash, the playful look in them, is almost enough to make him forget how to breathe. He tries not to focus on it, tries not to dwell on the way his mind immediately goes to some very interesting places, but it's a losing battle. He's sure his cheeks are red, and the knowing look in your eyes doesn't help.

"Uh," he says, his voice strangled, and he has to clear his throat again before he can continue. "Good.”

"Good," you repeat, and the smile on your face turns shy. You take a step back, and then another, and the look in your eyes is...different, softer, and a little more vulnerable. It makes his stomach twist. "Well, I should probably go. But, I'll see you later, right?"

He nods, and you grin. You wave goodbye and walk away, and Crosshair watches you go, a small smile on his face. He shakes his head and rolls his eyes at himself, but he can't stop smiling. It's a dumb thing to be happy about, but it's nice, knowing that you're looking forward to seeing him. And the way you'd looked at him, the hopeful look in your eyes, the shyness, the blush on your cheeks. He can't stop thinking about it.

It's just a crush, and it'll go away eventually. It's just a silly little thing, and it'll fade away. You'll be gone, and he'll be left behind, and everything will go back to normal. He'll get over it.

But, as he stands there, watching you laugh and smile and talk to the others, the sight of you making him feel things that he's not quite ready to admit, he can't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, he doesn't want it to.

By the time the sun sets, the courtyard is packed. The vendors have all set up their stalls, the games have begun, and the music is blaring. Crosshair stays close to Wrecker, using his bulk to help him avoid the crowds, and does his best to ignore the children running around. Wrecker's not much help. He keeps wandering off, getting distracted by the food or the games, and Crosshair is left to wander around alone.

It's not all bad, though.

He's able to keep an eye on Omega, and that's enough to keep him occupied. He knows she can take care of herself, but it's hard for him to relax when she's not within eyesight. And, every once in a while, you catch his eye. You're busy, running from place to place, and he knows that you don't have time to stop and chat, but the small, shy smiles that you give him are enough to put him at ease.

It's a nice distraction, and it helps him stay focused, which is a good thing. Because, before he knows it, it's time for the scavenger hunt. Omega drags him over to the table where you’re waiting, and he can't help but smile at the enthusiasm in your voice.

"I'm so glad you could make it," you say, and the look in your eyes tells him that you really mean it.

At his side, Omega looks far too proud of herself. Crosshair narrows his eyes at her, and she gives him a toothy grin in return.

"Me too," he mutters, and you laugh.

"Come on," you say, grabbing a basket from the table. "Let's get started."

Crosshair nods, and he stands back as you hand out datapads and explain rules to the crowd that’s formed around them. He's not paying attention. He's watching you, listening to your voice, enjoying the way you look in the light of Pabu’s setting sun, and it's a nice moment. That is, until Omega elbows him, and he startles.

"What?"

���She likes you," she whispers conspiratorially, her hand cupped over her mouth.

"Shut up," he hisses.

Omega giggles, and he glares at her, but it does nothing to wipe the smirk from her face.

"I'm not talking to you," he growls.

"Yeah, you are," she says, her voice laced with amusement. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

Before he can say anything, you announce that the scavenger hunt has started, and the kids are off. Omega joins the crowd, and soon, she's lost among the swarm of children running past them. Crosshair watches her go, his eyebrows furrowed, and then, he turns his attention to you.

You're smiling, waving at the kids, and he can't take his eyes off of you. This was a bad idea. He should've said no. He should've done something, anything, but instead, he'd let himself get roped into helping, and now, he's standing here, watching you, wishing he had the courage to just say something, and it's driving him crazy.

"Thanks again for helping," you say, turning towards him, and he startles, caught off guard.

"Uh, yeah, no problem," he replies. "I was going to be here anyway."

"Yeah, Omega mentioned that."

Crosshair nods, and the two of you settle into an awkward silence. He shifts on his feet, his hands shoved in his pockets, and he stares out into the crowd. You're quiet beside him, and the longer the silence lasts, the more uncomfortable he becomes.

It's not like you to be so quiet. Usually, you're chatting his ear off, asking him questions, trying to get him to open up, and the fact that you haven't said a word is concerning. You’re shuffling datapads and small trinkets around as if looking for something to keep yourself busy, and he's starting to wonder if he's done something wrong.

He's trying not to worry about it, but the longer the silence stretches, the more his mind races. He knows he's overthinking, and the more he thinks about it, the more anxious he becomes.

It's just a crush, he reminds himself.

He doesn't want anything from you. He doesn't need anything from you. He doesn't expect anything from you. But, as he stands there, trying not to dwell on the way his heart is racing, the way his stomach is twisting, the way his breath catches in his throat, he can't help but feel like a bit of an idiot.

He can't help but wonder if you've figured him out. 

Maybe you know, and that's why you're acting so strange. Maybe you can tell, and you're waiting for him to make the first move. Maybe you're nervous, or maybe, you just don't want him to say anything, because you don't feel the same way, and that's why you're keeping your distance. He knows that's a long shot, but it doesn't stop his brain from fixating on the thought. He can't help but think about how much worse it'll be if you do know.

So, he stands there, and the silence stretches on, tension thick in the air as you cast glances at each other. 

It's not until a couple of kids come up and ask for help with the next clue that the tension breaks.

The two of them are young, maybe eight or nine, and they're struggling. They're a cute pair, brother and sister, and they remind him a lot of his siblings. Their parents are nowhere in sight, and they're arguing, bickering, and it’s not until you crouch down to speak to them, taking the datapad from the boy's hands, that they calm down. You explain the next clue to them, and Crosshair watches as the siblings nod, their faces lighting up with understanding.

He wants to keep watching you, but a second pair of kids approach, and then a third. He can see you’re starting to get overwhelmed, and so he picks up a datapad and gets to work.

Soon, the two of you have a rhythm. You help the younger kids while he helps the older ones, and the system seems to work. He finds himself enjoying the task, and he doesn't even realize that an hour has passed until the scavenger hunt is over and the sun has nearly set. The two of you gather up the datapads, and the kids line up in front of the table, ready to receive their prize.

They're all so excited, and they're smiling and laughing and cheering, and it's a nice sight. Crosshair has never been the biggest fan of children, but these ones aren’t so bad.

He doesn't even realize that he's smiling until Omega runs back over to him, her arms outstretched, and she flings herself at him. She grabs hold of his waist, and she squeezes him tight.

"Thanks for helping," she says, her voice muffled, and he has to swallow past the lump in his throat.

"No problem," he replies as she lets go. She's still grinning at him, her eyes bright, and he can't help but reach out and ruffle her hair. "How'd you do?"

"I won," she boasts and slaps his hand away, and he rolls his eyes, unable to keep from smirking.

"Of course you did."

"It wasn't easy," Omega continues, her eyebrows raising as she speaks slowly. "But I had a great partner."

Crosshair sighs, and he gives her a knowing look, which she ignores.

“Don’t screw this up,” she whispers, and then, before he can say anything, she turns on her heel and heads back towards the others.

You're still sitting at the table, and he takes a moment to compose himself before heading over. You're organizing the datapads, sorting them into a bag, and he takes a seat next to you.

"Thanks for the help," you say, and he nods, a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Not a problem."

"You did a good job," you tell him. He ducks his head, a faint blush coloring his cheeks as you continue, “You’re good with them.”

"Well, you're welcome," he says, his voice low. "I have a lot of practice dealing with little brats."

You laugh, and the sound makes his heart swell. You continue sorting the datapads, and he watches you work, his eyes trailing over your features. It's not until you clear your throat that he realizes how long he's been staring.

"So, um," he begins, trying not to think too hard about the fact that he's been caught. "I was thinking..."

You look up. "Yeah?"

"You owe me."

"Huh?"

"You said anything I want," he explains, and the confusion on your face clears.

"Right," you reply, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. You stop what you’re doing and turn to face him fully. "And what would that be?"

"Dinner.”

"Dinner?" you repeat, your eyebrows raised, and he nods.

"With me."

"Are you asking me on a date, Crosshair?"

"Yeah," he says, and his heart leaps into his throat when your eyes light up. "I'm asking you on a date."

"Oh," you say, a soft smile on your lips, and he can't help but mirror it. "Well, how could I say no?"

"Great," he replies, and then, after a pause, he asks, "is that a yes?"

"Yes, of course it's a yes,” you chuckle. You shake your head, and then, a teasing smile forms on your face. "Did you think I was gonna say no?"

"Uh," he says, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was prepared for it."

You snort, and the laughter that follows is almost enough to distract him from the way his cheeks are burning. Almost. He looks away, embarrassed, but he can't help but smile.

"Sorry," you say, stifling your laughter, and he shrugs.

"It's fine."

"No, no, I'm not laughing at you," you say. You're biting your lip, trying to stop yourself from smiling, and his eyes narrow. "It's just..."

"What?"

"This whole time," you begin, and you have to bite back another laugh. "I've been trying to figure out how to ask you out."

"Wait, what?"

"Yeah," you admit, and the shy smile on your face is almost too much for him to handle. He can't believe what he's hearing. "I've been waiting for an excuse to spend some time alone with you, but I couldn't think of anything. So, when Omega mentioned you'd be helping out, I figured it would be my chance."

Crosshair shakes his head, trying to process the words. It's a lot to take in. You've been trying to ask him out? All this time, he's been wondering, worrying, and it was all for nothing? You've wanted this, too?

"Oh," is all he can manage, and it's enough to make you laugh again.

"Yeah."

He doesn't know what to say, so he stays silent. You shift next to him, and you place your hand on his arm, the contact sending sparks through his skin. Your touch is light, but it makes his breath catch, and he doesn't miss the way you smile at his reaction.

“So, do you want to watch the fireworks with me?” you ask, your voice soft.

"Yeah, sure," he says. He's trying not to let his excitement show, but judging by the grin on your face, he's not doing a very good job of it.

"Good."

He's expecting you to let go of his arm, but instead, you slide your hand down, and your fingers brush against his, a subtle gesture that makes his heart race. He turns his hand palm up, and you slide yours into it, your touch warm and gentle. His fingers curl around yours, and the smile on your face makes him feel bold.

Crosshair stands, pulling you up with him, and the two of you walk to the edge of the courtyard, hand in hand. It’s quiet now, save for the music playing over the speakers and the soft murmur of conversation, and the sky is dark. There are only a few people left nearby, mostly parents picking up their children, and no one pays the two of you any mind. You squeeze his hand, and he squeezes back, a smile forming on his face.

You lead him down a set of steps, and the two of you make your way towards a spot overlooking the bay. The breeze is cool, and the smell of salt fills the air. Without the lanterns and torches and strings of lights, it's dark, and he can just barely see your face, illuminated by the soft glow of the moon.

There’s a tree behind you, and it offers a bit of privacy, and the two of you settle against it, sitting on the grass. He can see the bay spread out in front of them, and the waves crashing on the beach, a steady rhythm that helps slow his racing heartbeat. 

He's still holding your hand, and he gives it another squeeze. You lean against him, resting your head on his shoulder, and the two of you watch as the fireworks begin. The explosions are loud, and bright, and colorful, and you point out the best ones, and the ones that remind you of him, and the ones that make you laugh. And, as the fireworks continue, as the colors fill the sky, you lean closer, and he pulls you into his arms.

He's not sure how long it lasts, but the longer the fireworks go on, the closer you get, and the more content he becomes. You're sitting between his legs, leaning back against his chest, and his arms are wrapped around you, holding you close.

You turn your head, the movement catching his eye. Your eyes meet his, and the two of you stare at each other, and the fireworks fade away, forgotten.

"Hey," he whispers, and the corner of your mouth twitches.

"Hey."

"This is nice," he says, his voice low.

"Yeah, it is."

You shift, turning towards him, and your face is so close that he can feel your breath on his lips. He knows he should wait, should give you a chance to change your mind, should give himself a chance to talk himself out of it, but he can't. 

"I—"

"Yes," you interrupt, a mischievous glint in your eyes, and he has to laugh.

"You don't even know what I'm going to say," he teases, and you shrug.

"I'm sure it's something good," you say. You reach up, cupping his cheek with your free hand. "Whatever it is, the answer is yes."

He can't stop the smile that forms on his face. He doesn't even try. He just leans in, closing the gap between the two of you, and he kisses you, a soft press of his lips against yours. He feels you sigh against his mouth, and his eyes flutter closed as he loses himself in the kiss.

The fireworks are still going off, but he can barely hear them, and the cheers and laughter and music are distant, a soft hum that fades away. All he can focus on is the feel of your lips against his, the warmth of your body pressed against his, and the soft sound of your breathing.

He feels you smile, and his heart races, and he has to pull back to catch his breath. He opens his eyes, and he's met with the sight of you, your face flushed, and the most beautiful smile he's ever seen.

"That was nice," you say softly, and he scoffs.

“Just nice?" he asks, half-joking and half-serious. He’s just had the best kiss of his life, and if you think it was just nice, then he's got some work to do.

"Well, maybe it was a little more than nice," you tease. The look in your eyes has him leaning in again, his gaze drifting from your eyes to your lips and back.

"Only a little?"

"Yeah, a little."

"Hmm, well, let's try that again," he murmurs, and you laugh, a soft breath against his lips.

"Alright."

Crosshair kisses you again, and this time, the kiss is deeper, slower, and more deliberate. His hands find their way to your hips, pulling you onto his lap, and you don't hesitate to follow his lead. He runs his tongue along your lower lip, and when you moan into his mouth, he feels a thrill rush through him.

Your hands are on his shoulders, and you're straddling his lap as you kiss him back, matching his pace. The feel of your tongue sliding against, and the soft whimper you make when he bites down on your bottom lip, nearly drives him crazy. He grips your hips, and he tugs you closer, the pressure of your weight against him drawing a groan from his mouth into yours. It’s a sound so low and raw that it surprises him, but you don’t seem taken aback by it. If anything, you seem pleased, and it suddenly occurs to him that there’s a lot he doesn’t know about you.

And, for once, he's excited to learn.

He doesn't want this to end, and when you break the kiss, his lips chase yours, unwilling to part just yet. You're gasping, your breath coming in shallow pants, and he rests his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, his fingers digging into your hips.

"You're right," you say, breathless. "Definitely better than nice."

Crosshair laughs, and he opens his eyes. The sight of you, your eyes dark and your cheeks flushed, lips swollen and red, is almost enough to make him let go of the fragile grasp he has on his control. He wants to kiss you again, and again, and again, but the sound of cheering startles him and reminds him of where he is.

He blinks, and he looks around, and then, he lets out a breath. The fireworks are over.

He hadn't realized.

You're still staring at him, a dazed look in your eyes, and when your lips twitch into a smirk, his grip on your hips tightens.

"Don't look at me like that," he warns, his voice raspy.

"Why not?" you ask. Your hand moves from his shoulder to the nape of his neck, fingers brushing against the hairs there, and it sends a shiver down his spine.

"Because I'm trying to be good," Crosshair explains. "And you're making it very difficult."

"I'm sorry," you say, but there's a hint of laughter in your voice that tells him you're not sorry at all.

"Don't be," he replies, and then, with a groan, he continues, "you're worth it."

Your cheeks flush, and he has to fight the urge to lean in and kiss you again. He knows if he does, he'll never be able to stop, and he'd prefer not to scandalize the locals. Or worse, have his brothers catch him in the act. So, instead, he takes a deep breath, and he moves his hands from your hips to your waist.

"Come on," he says, giving you a gentle nudge, and you pout.

"Fine," you sigh, and you give him a quick peck on the cheek before sliding off his lap. You stand and dust yourself off, and then, you offer him a hand. He takes it and lets you help him to his feet. You're still holding his hand as the two of you start walking, heading back up the stairs.

"So," you begin, breaking the silence, "when should we have that date?"

"Are you free tomorrow?"

"You don't waste any time, do you?" you tease, and he rolls his eyes.

“I’ve wasted enough time," Crosshair says, his tone serious, and you give him a look of understanding

"Yeah, me too."

"So, tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow.”

The two of you share a smile, and he leads you back through through the courtyard. You walk slowly, and you let go of his hand, but the loss of contact is quickly forgotten when you lean into him, your shoulder brushing against his. He's tempted to wrap his arm around you, to pull you close, but the idea of having an audience for that makes his stomach turn, so he doesn't. Instead, he just enjoys the feeling of you at his side, and the easy way you fit into his space. 

It doesn’t take long to make it to the point where you part ways, and the two of you linger, neither one of you ready to leave the other.

"I guess this is goodnight," you say, your voice soft.

"I guess so."

You reach out and grab his hand, and you squeeze it, giving him a shy smile. He squeezes back, and then, without thinking, he raises your hand to his lips and presses a soft kiss to the back of it.

The flash of embarrassment that follows is enough to make his face heat, but it's worth it for the way your eyes light up, and the faint blush that colors your skin. You duck your head, and the small, pleased smile on your face has his heart racing.

"Goodnight, Crosshair," you say.

"Goodnight."

You turn away, and he watches you go, his eyes lingering on the sway of your hips, and the way your hair dances in the wind. You don’t make it very far before you turn around, a mischievous grin on your face.

"By the way," you begin, your voice raised, and the smirk on his face fades. "Tell Omega I said thank you.”

Crosshair's eyes narrow, and his mouth opens and closes, his mind stuttering as he tries to process the words.

Omega set him up, and you knew, and this entire night was her idea. He'd known, in the back of his mind, that she'd been plotting something, and yet, it hadn't occurred to him until now just how much that entailed.

That little brat.

He can't decide if he's proud or embarrassed. He settles for a combination of the two, and the amused look on your face tells him that he's doing a poor job of hiding his feelings.

"Goodnight, Crosshair," you call out, a teasing lilt to your voice.

"Goodnight," he calls back, his tone flat.

You wave goodbye, and then, with a final, knowing look, you turn around and walk away.

He waits until you're out of sight before letting out a groan. Crosshair runs his hand down his face, and he shakes his head, trying not to think about how many times he'd made a fool of himself tonight. His siblings were never going to let him live this down. He sighs, and then, with a roll of his eyes, he starts walking.

When he makes it home, he finds them already gathered in the living room, talking amongst themselves. Omega’s chosen a chair that faces the front door, and her head snaps over toward him as soon as he walks in. Wrecker and Hunter catch on quick, and the room falls silent, the three of them watching him.

"So, how'd it go?" Omega asks innocently.

Crosshair glares at her, his eyes narrowed. She meets his gaze, a challenging look on her face, and he closes the front door with more force than necessary.

"It went fine."

"Fine?" Wrecker repeats. "That's it?"

They’re all staring at him now, and he can feel his temper rising, the heat of embarrassment rushing to his cheeks, and his fingers twitch, aching to shoot something. He forces himself to calm down, to remind himself they’re only asking because they care. Crosshair relaxes his shoulders, his jaw unclenching, and then, he lets out a sigh.

"Yes, fine," he says, his voice low. "We're going out tomorrow."

The room erupts into cheers and laughter, and Wrecker stands, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. Crosshair squirms, trying to escape, but it's useless.

"Wrecker, let him go," Hunter orders, and Crosshair breathes a sigh of relief when his brother finally releases him.

"Thanks, Wrecker," Crosshair grumbles, only to let out a grunt when Omega barrels into him, her arms wrapped around his waist.

"I told you it would work," she says, and Crosshair reaches down and ruffles her hair.

"Yes, you did," he concedes, and the look of triumph on her face has him rolling his eyes. He sighs and extracts himself from her embrace, and he clears his throat. “She says thanks.”

Omega beams, and Wrecker and Hunter laugh, clapping him on the back. They congratulate him, teasing him, and he bears it as best he can, trying not to show how happy he is even as his heart races, and a warm feeling spreads through him.

He hadn't thought he'd have this again, a family, people who cared about him, and he hadn't dared to hope that he'd find something else, something more. He hadn't even known what he was missing until he met you.

And, for the first time in a long time, he's excited for the future.

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia

@spicy-clones @kindalonleystars @cw80831 @totallyunidentified @heidnspeak

@lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @puppetscenario

@umekohiganbana @resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano

@burningnerdchild @ihatesaaand @lolwey @hobbititties @mere-bear

@thegreatpipster @lordofthenerds97 @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @mali-777

@schrodingersraven @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon @dreamie411 @sukithebean

@bimboshaggy @anything-forourmoony @9902sgirl @jedi-dreea @salaminus

@ghostymarni @gottalovehistory @burningnerdchild @yoitsjay @callsign-denmark

@julli-bee @sonicrainbooms @captn-trex @feral-ferrule @webslinger-holland

@marchingviolinist @deerspringdreams

[yawneon]

percy will a s/o that’s always sleeping🫶

BLUE - NOISE

a/n : this is so bad 😭😭😭

pairing : in love!percy jackson x hermes kid!reader

summary : in which percy jackson has his best birthday yet.

!!! : praying for more reqs, this one is so cute, i try my best 😞, maybe the plot was the friends we made along the way, unspecified demigod reader, book percy, ooc camp, i wanted it to be rainy in camp so ITS GOINF TO RAIN 🤬, the curse of never being able to write alot returns, THIS IS SO BAD

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

people at camp could’ve sworn there had been a mix up in olympus.

you. an hermes child? what a laugh.

you had to be a kid of hypnos. you slept so much, how couldn’t you? genuinely you couldn’t peel yourself off your bed like ever. everyone in camp knew, you were the person in cabin 11 that won’t get out bed if not needed. alcoholics had alcohol, gamblers had casinos but you… you had something far more worse.

you had the (in your humble opinion) the most comfortable bed in all of camp. sure, it wasn’t a 5 star hotel quality but shit was it good.

and more importantly it was the beds fault that you were oh so tired all the time and you just needed to sleep more than half the day.

everyone else couldn’t care less.. your siblings would just give you a small glance before ignoring you because honestly it was more surprising to see you awake! and trust me when you started dating percy.. did this get worse.

whatever you thought about having the best bed in camp was trampled on and thrown over a cliff edge the moment you laid in percy’s bed.

not only was his bed adorned with comfortable sheets and pillows his cabin was quiet.

-

percy didn’t understand however.

how on earth could you sleep when you have the most handsome and amazing boyfriend in all of the whole universe??

he has whined and frowned at you multiple times but you’ve slickly avoided his dramatics by lathering him up with sweet and sappy comments like “im dreaming of you~” that make annabeth and grover cringe at when he goes and boasts to them.

but today,

today you couldn’t avoid the dread of getting out of bed.

-

you stood at the foot of his bed holding a plate of waffles, blue ones. it was far too early for you, (it was 8am) but it was percy’s birthday. you weren’t going to neglect your boyfriend because gods you would never hear the end of it. so you decided to go against your force of nature and got up to whip up a batch of waffles for him.

despite it being the midst of summer rain pelted down against the hard exterior of cabin 3. it didn’t rain usually in camp, the rain would usually just pass right by but maybe the gods were arguing again and the storm was especially hard this day.

sluggishly you drag your feet to stand beside the bed in which percy sleeping.

you wished that was you.

the plate adorning the blue waffles are set down on his bedside table and you place a gentle hand on his shoulder shaking him. despite your (sucky) efforts he doesn’t stir awake.

you grab his arm now with both hands and you shake him harder than before and finally does he grumble awake.

he looks up at you, confused.

“happy birthday, idiot” you pick up and hold the plate of waffles up so he could see them a tired but sweet look on your face. he sits up on his elbows and a dopey smile appears on his face, a very common smile he shines when he looks at you.

“this all for me?” percy sits up fully now taking the plate from you and he smiles bigger now gaining his full conscious. he pats the empty side of the bed next to him and you basically throw yourself into the white sheets.

despite the innate need to sink further in and take ahold of the sleep thats so desperately trying to drag you down you sit up and watch him. “you’re up, today.” percy teases, his shoulder nudging yours.

“just shut up and eat your breakfast.” you laugh softly amused by his jokes.

he begins gobbling the waffles down, scoffing down the cream on top and cleaning the plate of any remains of food. it was actually very impressive how well he ate all of it.

percy’s eyes trail to the window of his cabin his eyes watching as the raindrops pelt down at the glass and the sound of the rain hitting the walls and roof echo loudly.

-

percy places the plate back onto the bedside and looks out the window. “say aye if your in to stay home all day?” he peeks at you, another dopey smile that you just couldn’t resist is painted on his face.

you didn’t even reply to him, your arm snakes around his collarbone and you basically slump him into bed. you both lay on your back and then percy starts talking.

he always did this. percy would talk and talk and talk while you laid next to him, even if you were asleep he would keep going. just the feeling of having you next to him was comfortable so he would talk about all different kinds of things and today wasn’t any different.

you however wanted to listen to him today but oh geez was it hard.

again it wasn’t your fault that his voice was smooth and calming to listen to even of he was talking about how he fell one time and scraped his knee when he was 7. it was like ypur white noise. you already slept a fuck-ton and having a boyfriend with the most sweetest voice was not helping you.

he held your hand as he laid next to you, his eyes tracing every detail of the ceiling as his fingers dance along your palm. he starts telling you all about how his first quest went. a story you’ve heard over.. and over and over again.

“when i started my quest..” blah blah blah.

your eyes shut and all you could focus on was his voice and the noise of water hitting the window panes. his hand was warm in yours and with his free hand percy pulls the covers over the both of you so only your heads were poking out. he slips his arm under your head and his other hand grabs yours again as he keeps rambling on.

before you could fully drift off you turn into him, you could feel his eyes on you as he watches you shift and his words pause for a moment.

“i love you.” he whispers, hoping that you were asleep. you smile into his skin, a clear sign you were still all there.

“i love you too, happy birthday percy.” you half open your eyes you pull his face down by grabbing his cheeks and you kiss under his eye before moving back down.

percy flashes his signature smile before his story changes from his quest to tell you about how on his 9th birthday his mom baked him a blue cake and how it was awesome. you make a mental note to yourself before drifitng off.

you dreamt of percy that night.

let me rephrase that.

you dream of percy.

you dream of him even though he is yours.

his pretty green eyes, his black hair, his sandy skin on the beach. but more often than not you dream of him like how you are now.

cuddled up beside you, warm under the covers as he tells you about all kinds of things like how he thinks the universe was made.

you dream about him dreaming of you which you know he does (since he tells you).

you dream about the way he wants you despite your sleeping routines, you dream about the way he calls you his sleeping beauty.

yet all those dreams are the reality you live. maybe missing a few hours off of slumber isn’t all that bad when your spending it with the boy you see when you close your eyes.

-

@yawneon

[laughhardrunfastbekindsblog]

"Tech's sacrifice in "Plan 99" proved he was willing to risk his life for the squad."

... 🤨

You mean, like when he:

Risked his life to jump after Omega into a dark abyss the instant he had (very rapidly) ascertained there was no other way to try saving her (noting he did this when, at that moment, there was not even a guarantee she could be saved)?

Risked his life by entering a death race to save his squad from the impossible situation of being caught between a blackmailer (Cid) and a gangster (Millegi)?

Risked his life by following Echo and Omega to make sure they were safe while at the cargo container crash site on Serreno, despite his crushed femur?

Risked his life by ensuring Echo and Omega, rather than he himself, were the first to be secured in the (relatively) safest area of the cargo hold when the container was released?

Risked his life every single time they were on a mission, by following orders and seeing his role through in order to ensure the squad's success and survival?

Just saying, Tech's sacrifice didn't "prove" anything we didn't already know about him and every other member of the Bad Batch. He and his siblings were willing to give their lives for each other from the very beginning.

[milotehacegrand18]

The Bad Batch as overprotective brothers towards Omega this, the Bad Batch preventing Omega from having a boyfriend that, but no one's really a true visionary here...

The Bad Batch as Crosshair's overprotective siblings. The idea that everyone (including and emphasizing Omega) is ready to annihilate the shitty guy Crosshair likes for the moment is hilarious, especially since we know the Bad Batch is right and Crosshair's crush is indeed shit.

[momojedi]

I‘m aware that technically 80s music doesn’t exist in the Star Wars Universe, but can you just imagine the Bad Batch absolutely jamming to some vintage classics whilst in hyperspace??

Like, at this point they’ve listened to everything they have on record a hundred times already and know everything by heart so they just vibe to it while shouting singing along as if they weren’t war-hardened soldiers but rather a group of siblings on a road trip.

It just warms my heart to imagine them sitting in the cockpit, Tech & Echo just exchanging happy glances while singing, Omega & Wrecker screaming the lyrics without hitting a single note, Hunter just enjoying the moment and mouthing the words along and Crosshair sitting in his seat, cleaning his rifle and acting like he genuinely doesn’t give a damn although Hunter can hear he’s clearly humming along.

[queenariesofnarnia]

safe haven

tech x f!reader

wc: 1,096

warnings: a mention plan 99, but mostly fluff

Your domicile was considered a safe haven for him. You found him in bad shape, many bones broken and with no memory. Yet he was familiar to you, you served as a clone medic during the war, spending time on Kamino you were the only medic who took care of his squad with no complaints. However, back then you were too shy to speak to him about anything outside of the medical care you would provide. With all the strength you could muster that day you used it to get him to your ship before the empire could find him. Quickly getting him situated in your small but functioning med bay before getting off the planet. Fleeing to the outer rim planet you now call your home, nursing him back to health. Even managing to create a new set of googles for him from what you remembered.

“Sugar” his voice drew you from your thoughts turning your focus to him. Him using the nickname everyone called you brought a smile to your face each time. “I remember everything” you could only nod, gesturing him to continue.

“My name is Tech, CT-9902 according to any database. I’m a part of Clone Force 99, we named ourselves the Bad Batch. You were the kindest and of course most appealing medic on Kamino. You always took care of our batch with a smile and never said a negative thing about us. I initiated plan 99 in order to save my brothers and sister. since then you’ve found me and nursed me back to health” he rambled excitedly using his hands to talk.

“Tech this is wonderful!” you stood from your seat as you cheered for him. “Would you like to make contact with your brothers?” you ask gently setting a hand on his forearm. He looks perplexed for a few moments, before nodding.

“Could you stay nearby?” he asked shocking you.

“Yes, let me go set up the long-range communication first and you can make your call” you say going out your back door to toy with your satellite. Tech paced the floor, he was pleased that he will get to speak to his brothers and Omega. But, hesitant because he knew it would mean potentially leaving you behind again. After the Kaller mission he was going to admit his feelings to you. He was even going to request you as their medic so you would no longer be stuck on Kamino. “All set Tech” your chipper tone pulled him from his thoughts. “I’ll be right in the kitchen. Just call me if you need me” you told him giving his shoulder a quick squeeze.

He instantly got to work on contacting the Marauder. To his relief they answered, and to his surprise Crosshair stood there behind Omega.

Moments of silence pass between the small family.

“Good to see your face Tech” Hunter spoke first, a relieved smile on his face.

“Where are you?” Omega was next to speak.

“What took ya so long?” Wrecker chimes in.

“I’m pleased to see you all. I’m with Sugar, she nursed me back to health after the fall” he began explaining.

“Sugar? As in the pretty medic you basically drooled over?” Crosshair asked smirking. Tech only nods.

“Precisely, she’s been taking care of me. I’ve been slowly regaining my memory back. Today was the day, it hit me in an overwhelming way” he said looking in the kitchen to see you prepping lunch. A smile crosses his face before focusing back on his siblings. You bring him the plate you prepped before stepping back into the kitchen. As he filled his siblings in your silhouette never left his peripheral. You danced around the kitchen cleaning up as he talked. Quickly peeping your head into the main room to grab his attention.

“Invite them to stay here” you mouth to him. He nods relaying the message.

“She would like to invite you to stay here with us. There’s plenty of room, and the planet is free from imperial rule, the republic never reached it either” he informs his family. Who easily agreed to stay, after Tech sent them the coordinates and ended the call he joined you in the kitchen.

“Thank you for inviting them” he says before eating the rest of his lunch.

“Everyone deserves somewhere safe. Especially now they have Omega with them. The war is over, and you all could finally rest” you reach across the table taking his hand in yours. “Make sure you rest and we can talk about the arrival of your siblings when I come back from the market.” You tell him getting up to drop your plate in the sink.

“I’ll come with you” he firmly states getting up to grab the keys to the speeder. “No arguing” he quips not even looking at you.

“How did you even know?” laughing at his words.

“I have witnessed you argue with Kaminoans and many regs” he simply says shrugging. The trip to the market went smoothly. Admittedly easier since he came along for help. He carried a bag of groceries, as you carried the bag of self-care essentials. His fingers intertwined with yours as he led you through the market back to the speeder.

“Thank you for coming Tech” you smile at him placing the bag on the table in the entry way.

“There is no need to thank me. I should be the one thanking you for everything” he takes the groceries into the kitchen. You followed him only to have him tell you to sit down. Ignoring your protests that you can help with the groceries. “You always do things for others. Let me help you” he says walking by placing an unexpected kiss on your forehead. A goofy smile was now on your face, your thoughts completely clear as you stare at the goggled clone moving around your kitchen. “I have always been fond of you” he admits glancing at you as he stored snacks in the pantry.

“You have?” you’re still in a haze from the small kiss.

“I thought that was obvious” he looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m pretty sure it wasn’t but my head is always in the clouds around you” you shyly admit looking away. His slender fingers grab your chin lightly to make you face him.

“Then let me make it obvious for you” he says before his lips collide with yours in a soft kiss.

“Thank you for saving me” a small smile on his face as he pulls away from the kiss.

[sleepyelliee]

jack marston x reader.

before you read !

FEM reader, not really proofread, mostly contains fluff but mentions his parents and past, couple small mentions of the van der linde gang, reader is mentioned to have long hair that's normally braided - no specific hair color! no y/n used. this is my first time writing fanfiction like this, so lmk if I did an mistake or forgot to add another warning !! <3. also you're a farm girl !

credits.. @reddorkredemption for the Jack header! @/xxxbimbobunny @/v6que for the dividers.

<3.

your father always spoke about not to get yourself into wrong groups of people, he always mentioned to stay away from outlaws, gangs or bad men in general, to be aware of people whenever you go out in public because he claimed that people weren't always truthful about their status and reputation.

you always went along with his rules — he was right, there was always something on the newspaper you would receive in your mailbox of your ranch stating another missing girl or someone getting shot or killed. Normally, you would try to avoid any of those circumstances happening to you by staying in your ranch and helping out your father with duties along with your younger siblings.

That all changed when you met a certain boy around your age, Jack Marston. He was a lean man with a slightly muscular build, he seemed to be those cowboys from the past with his hat that was black and gray with a feather poking out from the brim ever so slightly, he always had a serious expression on his face and hardly ever shown a sign of vulnerability. You thought he was good looking, but you would never admit that to anyone with how he carries his gun around his hip in a threatening manner for someone who lived in a sheltered life like yours.

You didn't know how you managed to get yourself tangled into an *outlaw* — something you tried to avoid your whole life but here you were, laying in your bed as you fantasized about the young man and how cute he looked whenever he would visit your farm to buy different diary products off your father because how cheap the price was. This small crush you thought you had eventually became a *huge* and noticable crush as time went on and how often he would visit your families ranch.

....

The cold breeze brushed against your body as you wiped off sweat from your forehead, sighing as you felt the hard labor in today's work before you heard a familiar horse riding up into your ranch. Turning your gaze away from the horses you were taking care of today onto the young man deemed as a gunslinger.

"Hi, miss. Wonderin' if I could get eggs, sorry to disturb you, notice that your father wasn't out here today." He spoke, instantly sending butterflies into your stomach with his quiet grumble when he noticed that his horse wasn't staying put like he told it to be.

"Hey, mister, sorry to inform you but we are out of eggs recently." You muttered as you moved to stand where he was leaning against the fence. You swore you could feel his gaze on you for a brief moment, analyzing each move as your fingers moved to comb the messy strand of hair that managed to slip out of your braid.

Jack stayed quiet for a minute before nodding as he replied, "Alright, then. Thank you for ya help anyway." He soon started to walk away from the fence and mount onto his horse before he called out to you, "Have a great one, miss." Then he quickly left the ranch, the horses footsteps slowly but surely, going quieter as he rode into the distance.

...

Ever since that day, he has been visiting your ranch more and more often, sometimes even ordering large batches to keep the conversation going. You thought he was quiet, but he looked so memorized anytime you would speak about your day in your tired, raspy voice. Jack always claimed that it was just due to not wanting to go home because his *parents* grounded him. But even your younger siblings could've sworn that he had the biggest crush on you and they would tease you endlessly for it.

Your denial of liking or loving an outlaw was soon evaporating when he started to invite you out to different places. As time grew on, he soon found himself more comfortable to take you out to play Blackjack and have you comfortable in his lap, his free hand that wasn't holding the cards would protectively wrap around your waist and hold you close. Jack would soon also allow you to hold his guns, but he would make sure that you wouldn't accidentally pull the trigger and shoot yourself — he was afraid of loosing you too. You start to notice that the initial of your first name would be carved in all of his guns in the same exact spot — on end of each handle so it felt like he was holding you whenever you weren't with him.

God, what would your father think about when he found out about you and your gunslinger of a boyfriend? That question was always back of your mind each time you were with him.

Yet, you guys weren't really dating yet, he was very paranoid and protective of you. That's what you were trying to convince yourself to believe for a very long time before one late night when you were riding together.

...

Jack told you to get off your horse and told you that he had a surprise for you, something very out of the ordinary since most days he was much more direct of whatever he speaks about.

He takes your hand in his, interlocking each finger of yours with his rough hands as he shows you the beautiful stars above you. You were about to question his motives before you got caught off guard with a soft and gentle kiss on your cheek, almost jaw dropping from how gentle he was with you — let alone seeing him this vulnerable.

...

Soon enough, your relationship status was a secret, your father, friends nor your younger siblings knew you were with an outlaw most days. After all, you would simply lie and say you would hang out with your girl friends.

You never imagined to be visiting his ranch, or whatever you want to call it since the land was dry and it was quite dusty, also you noticed that there was hardly any animals living on that farm.

But here you were, sprawled out on his bed as he clung onto you like you were going to disappear magically at any moment as he muttered about the truth about his parents.

"...My mother? Well she...." Jack went silent like a lasso pulling at someone's throat, he was trying to suffocate a cry, to try not to look so vulnerable in front of his sweet girlfriend that he believed he didn't deserve. He knows he killed a man, he was an outlaw, a gunslinger, and a young boy raised in a gang before he became a monster he thought he was.

"Mhm." You hummed, listening to him speak as your free hand that wasn't wrapped around him combed through his black tangled locs. "it's okay, baby." Your lips found his forehead, pressing a couple kisses before you pulled away and rested your head on his chest. You tried to never push him to speak about his past whatsoever, you just listened most of the time and that's what he absolutely adored about you.

thank you sooo much for reading! sorry if this was kinda bad, this was my first time ever writing something like this. ALSO I HAD TO WRITE HIM SINCE THERE IS LITTLE TO BASICALLY NO WRITTING ABOUT HIM!! also, please don't post or copy my writing anywhere else. masterlist.

[fennelockley]

Random Bad Batch thoughts instead of making seperate posts for them ⚠️ Spoilers ⚠️

- I love that Crosshair has immediately caved into the big brother roll. And I say brother rather than dad because they have such a classic sibling dynamic, always bickering. I love it.

- But Omega not even batting an eye at Crosshair being called her dad, she'll accept that reality too.

- You KNOW Crosshairs heart was thumping in the gambling scene with the imperial. He was glued to Omega. Absolutely petrified.

- Crosshair in general just being very protective. He snarks, he bitches, he complains about everything she does - but we know him, that's just his love language.

- Omega crying at the reunion 😭 Hunter finally hugging her too.

- Simp thoughts: I love all of the distinctive voices all the characters have, but the moment Hunter comes on screen and says "Five" in his gravelly voice its over for me.

[legacygirlingreen]

Mornings on Pabu

For week 4 of @summer-of-bad-batch's alt prompt: "You really think you're going without me? Not going to happen"

Pairing: Tech x F!Reader

Summary: An early morning on your lovely island home leads to some reflexion on how hard your lover has been working... and possibly explaining why that is...

*** no use of Y/N ***

Warnings: mildly suggestive, mentions of having children, no actual baby making activity I promise! mostly fluff! Domestic but non sexual nudity!

Word count: 2k

MASTERLIST

Rustling curtains and the muted sound of crashing waves were the perfect lull from sleep as you rolled over. Hair tumbling across the pillow as you did so, you blinked the caress of sleep away as your eyes focused while you moved. That’s not to say you weren’t careful of the dead weight from the arm perched over your waist. He rarely slept. Forcing him into the bed and to lay down - without that blasted datapad - was still a challenge after a year of island life. 

  You were finally free. Free of the Empire. Free of Dr. Hemlock. Free of the danger. Free to be at peace. Free to help give Omega the childhood she deserved. Free to heal those wounds both mental and physical. Free to love as you all saw fit. Free to have the lives you truly had always wanted. 

  Pabu was every bit the sanctuary Phee had promised. While you initially had been wary of the pirate - especially the way she continually flirted with Tech despite your unofficial yet apparent feelings for the man - you’d come to respect her in time. After a few drinks late one night, she admitted to flirting simply to push the two of you together. To her credit, her work along with the unscheduled descent that nearly claimed his life, it worked. 

  Tech was every bit of man you had longed for. Noble. Intelligent. Thoughtful. Sexy. 

  Even while sleeping, low rumbled snores escaping past his lips, he looked alluring. Those thick eyelashes that framed his deep brown eyes, visible due to removal of his staple goggles, which rested on his nightstand during the night. Skin having grown into a deep bronze with the sunlight, giving way with every deep inhale and exhale. His hair was an absolute mess, and finally grown to a length you wouldn’t have anticipated. No longer on the run, and needing to be practical, he’d let it go and given up on gel: meaning the carmel strands were curling around his neck and ears now instead of being cropped short and pushed back. Something about seeing him like this made you truly feel every ounce of raw arousal for him almost every moment in the day. The added freedom to slip away whenever you liked only increased the desperate need you both shared for one another.

  The dark ink he’d always had marked in his skin, now accompanying two new additions. An oval design replicating Omega’s old headband along his bicep next to symbols he bore for all his siblings: Crosshair’s reticle design, a red band that stretched the entire circumference of his arm for Hunter’s bandana, a childish outline of lula for Wrecker, and Echo’s old handprint armor. He kept his siblings close to him, having marks for them just under his shoulder where their old squad logo lay. However the most recent addition to his body lay directly over his heart: your name in aurebesh.  

  Tech hadn’t warned you of the change, simply appearing one day with it over his pectoral and the explanation of, “I wanted to keep you close to heart”. Which promptly led to your heart beating as if it was going to bust. Well, that and some mind blowing time between the sheets to show just how much the gesture had meant to you. He still shrugged it off, as if the act were common sense. You beg to differ but were never going to argue with him over something so kind.

  Laying next to him every morning had come to feel like a dream. Days on Pabu were met with Tech’s talent for mechanics being put to good use, while you took on random tasks assisting him. That didn’t stop the frequent routine of sharing meals with Shep and his daughter, Tech’s siblings and occasionally Phee. After which, you both would make it back to your own private domicile - something Tech requested after some time given he didn’t enjoy being quiet when it came to giving you pleasure - before hopping into bed together. 

  Initially the transition had been difficult on Omega. The girl not used to Tech being under a different roof and still anxious from his time captured on Tantis away from her watchful eye, but once she discovered that Tech’s absence meant she had her own escape from the other boys she finally came around. 

  Each morning had come to be filled with sweet whispers rousing you from sleep, as Tech often rose before you. Not long after you had arrived, you both began taking the mornings to swim, before the island awoke. The gentle breeze, the calm lapping waves, and the way Tech’s brown eyes looked at dusk: perfection.

  However, with the amount he’d been working lately, you felt guilty about waking him up for something as trivial as a swim. He’d taken it on himself to fix all of lower Pabu, fortifying it against future storm surges so the island could function. This was great - if he wasn’t doing so single handedly, pushing off your attempts at helping him.

  Carefully you tried to maneuver your way out from under his arm, hoping that you could be gone and back before he woke up, but when you had just gotten your foot out from under the covers, said arm tightened, trapping you under a sudden burst of strength. Immediately being alert and aware were side effects of his programming, meaning the first stroke of being awoken meant he was at full capacity to react almost suddenly.  

  Sighing you gave up, knowing you had failed to slip away without him realizing and just allowed the man to pull you back into his chest as he tangled your legs together. A gruff tone to his voice as he whispered, “You really think you’re going without me?” into the skin of your neck. The way he almost purred the words as he wrapped himself around your body made you melt as he continued, kissing your neck as he mumbled, “not going to happen…” along that spot that always made you squirm. 

  “I just wanted you to rest-” you began and his sweet kisses turned to a playful nip as he shook his head, turning you around before you could react and pulling you on top of his body. In doing so the covers tumbled to the floor, leaving his beautiful bare body full on display as his hands sought out your rear, giving it a squeeze as your face fell into the crook of his neck. He smelled musky, as if he’d sweat a bit in the night, but you didn’t mind as. 

  “I got more than enough rest to be sufficient for my body to complete its tasks for the day,” he commented, eyes blinking open as he adjusted to the first crack of light coming through the open window. 

  “Sufficient doesn’t mean you couldn’t do with a bit more sleep,” you grumble as that light puff of air that indicated a sudo laugh came from his nose and his arms tightened around your lower back. 

  “Not at the expense of missing out on our early morning routine,” he commented, mentally preparing to get going on the day. Where he discovered such energy in the morning you’d never know. 

  “Just one day wouldn’t be the end of the world,” 

“I have a different opinion on the matter,” he challenged, reaching over to retrieve the goggles on the nightstand as you reached an arm up to stop him. He used them to hide from the world, but you refused to let him do so with you. 

  “You’ve been working so incredibly hard lately Tech, no one is going to get angry if you take a bit of a break,” you challenge as you remove your arm, seeing he gave up on reaching his frames. 

  “I am aware that there shall not be hostilities if I pause the rate at which I have been repairing the lower half of the city. But as I said, I have reasons for a differing perspective on the issue,” he states bluntly. 

  You loved Tech for many reasons. His brilliance. His ability to remain calm no matter the circumstances. Usually you enjoyed his bluntness, since it meant he was straight forward and there was no guessing. Having him dance around the issue was very out of the norm. 

  “Is something wrong?” you sighed through the question, leaning up on his chest as he looked around the room for a moment, letting his eyes settle back on you. 

  “No, I do not mean to cause worry or distress,” 

  “Then why can’t you tell me what it is that is causing you to work yourself to an early grave?” you question softly, hand cupping the side of his face as his eyes fluttered closed. Stubble caught along your thumb and you knew he’d shave it when he got out of bed, as he did every morning without fail. He loved his routines after all. 

  “I just want to make sure that this is a safe place for children,” he says quietly, eyes still closed. 

  “You know that ever since the wave, Shep moved the families with kids up above the wall, and allowed more of the older residents to migrate south. Omega is old enough she can handle herself anywhere on the island-” 

  “I am not talking about Omega,” Tech replies as he finally looks up, hopeful gaze in his eyes. 

  Suddenly it all made sense. The overprotective nature he’d had lately. His hard work repairing the lower section of the island. His hyperawareness at your health as of late. His acceptance of life here and mentioning how it was one of safety. Him pointing out neighbors with children and how fascinating they behaved. 

  “Tech, do you-” you began to ask and his eyes grew wide, almost as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t be. 

  “I would never encourage something given we have not discussed it before, nor would I take actions you were not okay with. I hardly know your opinions on the matter…” he trailed off in a rare occurrence, hands dragging over his face as if to hide. 

  “But?” you press carefully, tone not indicating malice or frustration, simply a need to understand where he was coming from. 

  “But yes, I have found myself interested in the idea of possibly having children. Naturally that is. With you.” he said it all so simply despite the very apparent war he seemed to be having with himself for saying it out loud. 

  “Oh,” you whisper. To be frank, the idea hadn’t really crossed your mind. Not that you were against it, per say, just hadn’t really imagined it. 

  “We do not need to discuss it, and I shall continue fixing the walls regardless as it is a benefit to all who live here on Pabu-”

“Tech,” you cut him off with a small smile. 

  “Yes?” 

“Can we continue this conversation out of bed? I would like to hear all your ideas on the matter but I’d like to be in a neutral location if we are going to discuss them. Besides, I’ll never get over how wonderful you look in that early morning light in the water,” you tell him softly. 

  Tech looks up hopefully into your eyes, seeing the way they soften for him. Something tells him that he has nothing to fear, as a practical discussion of such matters is important for anyone attempting to bring life into the world with the one they love. Especially for someone as logically minded as him. You can’t help but laugh at the way he nearly hurls you onto the floor as he begins rushing about the room, pulling on something to swim in while encouraging you to hurl it along. 

  It’s in that room where you decide perhaps he’s onto something, and that maybe the two of you are ready for those next steps. But for now, the sun and sand are calling your name. Well, that and your love, who can’t wait to talk about the future with you as the sun peaks over the horizon. 

NOW CLICK TO READ PART TWO (NSFW)!!!

[sailorkamino]

Hi! Could you write some headcannons for tbb x body insecure or plus sized reader?

body insecurities [bad batch]

relationships: gn!reader x bad batch

warnings: weight insecurities, echo has body dysmorphia, diet culture, an older sibling being a parental figure, autistic tech struggling w/ emotions, past body shaming

a/n: i love writing for tech but i struggle with his dialogue, if you're a bad batch writer pls send me some tips to making him sound in character <3

crosshair

• great at reading body language so he can tell when you need comfort even if you don't verbalize it

• he might seem annoyed but that's just his rbf, if he didn't care he wouldn't ask

• the type to be angry when he's worried

• it's eaiser to threaten you then admit he cares

• he'll say stuff like "take a risk like that again and i'll shoot you" or "drink some water dumb ass, i'm not your baby sitter"

• his first reaction is to fight the problem

• "did someone tell you that shit?"

• once he realizes he doesn't need to commit murder he's not leaving you along until you talk

• cross is the best listener and i will die on this hill

• he can seem dismissive of your insecurities but he does care, he just thinks you're wrong lmao

• brutally honest so any praise from him means a lot

echo

• the most empathetic boyfriend part 1

• def has suffered from body dysmorphia so he understands

• but also baffled cuz you're perfect to him

• he's very serious about your mental health so he wants to his a conversation about this

• the most genleman to ever gentleman, he will shower you in love!!

• lots of cuddling and sweet words

• hope you don't have any plans cuz you're not allowed to leave his arms until you feel better

• if you want to eat better that's great! but none of these unhealthy diets you see on the holonet

• no he'll research the best diet/exercise plan for you personally to make sure you're safe <3

• you've helped so much with his confidence he's determined to return the favor

hunter

• instantly knows when something's bothering you

• as the oldest he was forced into a parental role at a young age so he has a lot of expierence with comforting

• will give you a worried dad look until you tell him what's wrong

• he might get a little pushy if you aren't opening up

• he doesn't mean to but worrying about his loved ones is like his default setting

• [protective mode activated] did someone say something? cross will probably help get rid of a body if he asks-

• blames himself for your doubt

• secretly reads/watches romance stories so he'll probably drop some cheesy lines from them

• shows your tummy lots of love, like using it as a pillow while you stroke his hair or sneaking a hand under your top, lulled by your breaths

• cuddles with skin to skin contact are very intimate to hunter cuz of his higtened senses so this is very special privilege

• if it'll give you confidence he offers to work out with you, using the holonet he tries to find 'fun' exercises you can both enjoy (yoga, zumba, etc.)

tech

• he'll get frustrated because he doesn't understand your pov

• he's told you that you're attractive and healthy, why are you still upset?

• hunter has always told him "you can't make others see things the way you do" and it's infuriating for him

• tech is a fixer so he feels helpless when he can't just fix your insecurities

• he'll encourage you to talk to one of his more emotionally intelligent brothers which you take as rejection

• when your eyes fill with tears he panics even more

• "perhaps i should get hunter-" "i don't want your brothers, i want you tech"

• he's quiet for a moment before awkwardly opening his arms, "physical touch causes the brain to release oxytocin, a bonding hormone that strengthens social bonds in mammals. would you like a hug?"

• he's always found you attractive but never voiced it, now he makes sure to tell you every time

• get ready for blunt but 100% genuine compliments like "your chest is distracting in that shirt"

wrecker

• the most empathetic boyfriend part 2

• king of emotional intelligence

• will pick you up and hold you like you're a doll, laughs if you call yourself 'heavy'

• everyone is kind of small to wrecker (even his brothers) so to him you're practically a baby tooka

• but still he takes your feelings seriously

• cadet wrecker was definitely body shamed by regs so he knows how it feels

• showers you with affection 24/7 so it's hard to feel insecure around this guy

• will fight anyone who makes you feel bad >:(

• like hunter, he also offers to work out with you (not just cuz he loves showing off-)

• loves active games, like just dance or wii sports

• is up for any activity has long as you're involved tbh

[xecutivecucumber]

Executive Cucumber's thoughts on the Bad Batch: Season 3x06 and 3x07 (I'm pretty sure I'm formatting this differently every time. Oh well)

Okay, there's a subject I'm going to have to postpone until the end of the post because I want all my thoughts on that to be together: the main operative clone. And the rest might be slightly out of order. I'm also doing this before I see anyone else's thoughts, just so we get the pure version.

Let's go!

I honestly thought that Senator Singh and Riyo were dead meat. But no, they're fine because REX IS COOLER THAN ANYONE. Ugh that man. Freaking throwing the grenade back at him.

Clones are beautiful. That is all.

THAT'S THAT ONE PLACE FROM THE OG CLONE WARS MOVIE!!! TETH!!!

Howzer I love you but if you touch Crosshair we will be having words.

I am actually really proud of Crosshair and his restraint this episode. He could have been really cutting to Howzer.

OMEGA WITH THE TOOTHPIIIIICKS and Hunter is jealouuuus

EDIT: ECHO AND THE CROSSBOW HE'S SO SWEET

WHAT DID THEY DO TO YOU CROSSHAIR

It's really nice to see normal clones being normal again. (Too bad it doesn't last)

There's something up with Omega. I'm not going to lie, I think that she and Rex are going to plan to get her captured in order to track her back to Tantiss.

HOWZER STOP DISTRUSTING CROSSHAIR THIS MOMENT

I appreciate that Hunter doesn't seem to distrust Crosshair during this point.

...they really shouldn't have brought that operative back.

Rex is considering stealing Omega, I swear. I love that he gets down to her level.

WOOOOOOOOOOOLFFE (Plo would be so disappointed in you)

It's...odd to see these normal troopers with him.

It's also strange that he cannot comprehend that the clones could be traitors at first.

STOP DYING YOU BEAUTIFUL REGS

'She only bites half the time' I'm pretty sure Omega is lying here but I don't care.

CROSSHAIR IS SUCH A WORRIED DAD HOLY CRAP. 'Oh, I'm much worse' I LOVE YOU

And this just gives such a little insight into how the Batch was when they were together. I have a feeling that Crosshair was a fusser and a nagger.

And I love how Howzer's natural and correct conclusion is: 'no one evil could love that child.' (Unless you're Nala Se)

Hey, actual candor from Crosshair. I keep saying this is who he always was under it all, but I do think he's healed somewhat, at least towards regs. The healing power of Omega.

'Too bad' I LOVE THIS MAN

STOP DYING REGS

Rex talking down Wolffe reminded me so much of him trying to talk Jesse down. So ow.

Okay, what ROCK have they shoved Wolffe under for the last YEAR??? YES THE EMPIRE WOULD GET RID OF THE CLONES YOU DOG BRAINED IDIOT

(Plo would be proud that you let them go)

...they just killed all of Rex's clones, except Howzer and Gregor. And I have a bad feeling about Howzer. STOP TAKING THINGS FROM REX HASN'T HE LOST ENOUGH???

Okay here we are, at the big topic. Hold onto your pants.

That operative clone. Is. Tech. Because if he is not, they are purposefully using the narrative to deceive us.

I might miss a few things, but that's because I'm up past my bedtime and I've been up too late the last few days.

1. The falling and water parallels. This clone falls a LOT during this episode and dives into a lot of water. He even falls into mist. This time it's to kill and capture his siblings instead of save them.

2. The injury. This clone is hobbling around a lot after his injury, which was immediately reminiscent of Tech's broken leg at the beginning of season 2. Both of them are forcing themselves past their limit to achieve a mission. Specifically with injured legs.

3. General attitude and demeanor. In combination with the stealth and injury, this clone has a more hunched posture. His speech patterns are more formal, though we haven't really heard a lot of other clone operatives talk with their helmets on. But he's also apparently allergic to orders. I first thought that he'd be out of the chain of command, but they would have told Wolffe that he wasn't in charge of the operative if that were the case. Or the operative would have straight up told him 'I don't take orders from you' instead of staring awkwardly at him. Instead he runs off and does his own thing. While injured. Not to mention the buttons on his gauntlet. The other clone operatives don't have those.

4. The cybernetic legs. Now we don't know for sure if Tech would have cybernetic legs, but it seems likely for a severely injured trooper. And when Crosshair is looking at the heat signature, you can see that his legs are blue instead of yellow or red. No heat. Not organic.

5. What he says to Crosshair. 'You could have been one of us.' 'You chose the wrong side.' Yes, he's talking about Crosshair resisting the re-education. But flip it on its head real quick. 'You could have been one of us. One of the Bad Batch.' 'You chose the wrong side. The Empire.' Those lines very easily have double meanings.

6. An interesting one is when he starts moving rocks after the explosion. Why would he do that? Why not immediately go find another way in? He's moving only the smaller rocks. There's a large one in the way that he couldn't move himself. And he doesn't get the rest of the troopers to come move it when they arrive. He almost seems confused.

Like he's somewhere else after an explosion, having to move rocks. Like in the Crossing.

I know that this hardly seem like iron clad evidence. But in the language of story telling, it's practically screaming in our faces.

And I'm so glad he's back. I missed him. He won't be himself for a while, but I legitimately believe we'll get one last fight with the Batch all together. Because brain washing is a heck of a lot easier to fix than being dead.

My sister is doing the good work and creating a tik token about it, and I'll probably share it here when she's finished.

(We're getting the episode 'Identity Crisis ON MY BIRTHDAY and so help me if that's about Tech)

Honestly I thought I'd be more excited, but I spent the entire two episodes forcing myself into not having expectations and also I might be in shock.

[smollbean42905]

Thighs

Remus Lupin was known as the professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, with some admires from 7th year females, due to his gentlemanly habits and soft looks that seems to stay permanently in his eyes. But of course, he was taken, by you. A sibling of James Potter, best friend of Sirius Black, and teachers aid that travels between classes. You and Remus have been married for a few years now, having been together since their 5th year all that time ago.

At the moment, Remus is teaching a class with you sat all nice on his desk, with your nose in a book. You had some admirers as well, some male and female students that had a small school crush on you. Only because of how parental you could be and how much you related to them in some ways. As the older man teaches, his eyes keep flickering over to you, your legs crossed and thighs looking so nice in your pants. Your teaching Cape short and a nice violet color, a color that looked amazing on you.

Two nights prior was the full moon, so the love-sick werewolf was still on the tired side, luckily the full moons aren't to bad with you nearby. His wolf side loves you and luckily, you are an animagus, a cat to be frank. The fur matches your hair, with the same eyes your human form holds. You also stayed in his classroom before and after the full moon for a week straight, of course the other teachers know, and know of your relationship so no one minds. Except for Snape, but... He's Snape.. so... Anything that has to do with Remus he hates. Moving on!

As the class ends, Remus was done for the day. It was about 2 hours before dinner so this class was his final one for the day. He waits patiently with his usual soft smile, hiding his pain, and watches as his final batch of students leave. You raise your head from your book, your quill between your pointer finger and thumb from underlining important sentences in your book as the children file out of the room quickly. You give them all a smile at they leave and get off of Remus' desk, ready to help him relax.

The tired man turns to you and his smile falters slightly showing how hard he's fighting to stay standing with his perfect posture.

"Come here my love" Remus does as told and goes to you, his hands finding solitude on your hips.

"Let's go to your room, so you can relax a bit before dinner."

"I have to grade papers Dove"

"You can do that tomorrow, it is Friday after all" you speak softly to your love as he nods. You lead him up the creeky stairs up to your shared room. You both move through his office and into a door to the side, your bedroom. A moving photo of Sirius and James sat beside the bed. The room held earthy tones that you both loved, it was slightly messy with the bed undone and some book piles laid through the room. You help Remus get more comfortable, helping him take his shoes off and his belt off. His eyes watch your hands, knowing of the innocent handling you're currently doing to him.

You do the same, getting more comfortable before laying on the bed, him following you. Remus lays his head in his chest but can't seem to get comfortable for a long period of time. He slowly moves down, resting his head on your stomach, with your breathing his head moves up and down. So definitely not.

His head reaches your thighs and he goes between your legs laying on his back with your thighs on either side of the head. He lets out a small sigh, a sigh that sounded similar to a dog after a long day of naps.

"Comfy?"

"Very comfy my dove" you reach down and begin to gently play with his hair.

[laughhardrunfastbekindsblog]

Ignorance is Bliss

Summer of Bad Batch 2024 | Week 3 | Prompt: "Forget I Asked"

Summary: Sometimes, when it comes to things like food, it's just better not to know

(Word Count: 410)

Read on Ao3

Hunter walked into Cid’s parlor, stopping short at the display that greeted him.

Echo was sitting at the bar, elbows on the surface and head resting in his hands, heaving slightly with a nauseated expression. Echo had been part of the squad long enough that such a posture and expression were very familiar to the sergeant, but Hunter was more concerned than usual this time around given that Echo’s face was currently faintly yet distinctly green.

Omega sat on the bar stool next to Echo, gently patting his shoulder with a consolatory look on her face; Wrecker, leaning over Omega, was nudging a glass of water towards him; and Tech was standing on Echo’s other side, examining his brother with his typical calm, studious expression.

“Perhaps we should get you back to the Marauder so you can lie down,” Tech was saying.

“I don’t think he’ll make it that far,” Omega said worriedly.

“We’ll assist him,” Tech replied. “Besides, he’s in no danger. We’ve all survived such things before.”

“What happened?” Hunter interjected with no small amount of concern, striding toward his siblings. Had Echo been poisoned or...?

“Echo tried some Mantell Mix,” Wrecker answered solemnly.

Hunter drew up short, raising a brow. “It tasted that bad?”

“No, he actually liked it,” Omega put in, biting her lip for a moment before adding, “And then he asked what it’s made of.”

Hunter’s shoulders sagged in exasperation as he turned to face the inevitable culprit. “You told him every ingredient, didn’t you?”

Tech straightened his goggles, clearly unfazed. “Yes, I did. Apparently, Echo was unaware that a derivative of bantha saliva is a common preservative…”

The rest of Tech’s sentence was drowned out by an unearthly groan from Echo, the noise soon slightly muffled as he adjusted his position to rest his head face-first on his arms on the bar.

Tech’s brows now furrowed slightly in concern. “He really should lie down. The antiemetic will be more effective that way.”

Biting back multiple retorts, including No kidding, What were you thinking?!, and Tech we’ve talked about this, Hunter sighed and stepped in between Tech and Echo. “Wrecker, you take the other side,” he directed as he extricated Echo’s right arm and draped it over his shoulders.

Echo groaned again as he allowed his brothers to guide him off the bar stool. “Do you know how long it will take for that crud to leave my system?” he said weakly, taking a deep breath in an apparent attempt to hold back another heave.

“Don’t worry about it, Echo,” Hunter said soothingly, stiffening when Tech started talking.

“Approximately…”

“Tech, no.” 

@summer-of-bad-batch