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starryevermore · 1 year

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the bad batch’s little matchmaker ✧ wrecker

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

request: Omega and Wrecker going to the market and omega realizes it's cause Wrecker likes one of the fruit stand sellers. She 100% helps him figure out a way to ask the seller out - @captainsbestgal

pairing: wrecker x fem!reader; omega x fem!reader (platonic)

summary: omega is determined to find out why wrecker keeps sneaking off to the market.

word count: 1,398

warnings?: meddlesome omega, mutual pining, idiots in love, not proofread

Omega had long since been suspicious of Wrecker’s affinity for going to the market. It made sense after missions, of course. They had to get their Mantell Mix, after all! But, it was odd how Wrecker would find an excuse to go to the market when they had a rare day off. Sometimes two, even three, times a day, even! Perhaps even stranger, he almost never came back with anything! There was only two real options in Omega’s mind: either (a) Wrecker was keeping a secret from their brothers and her; or (b) Wrecker was sneaking off to get his own snacks and wasn’t sharing her her! She wasn’t sure which was more annoying, but she did know that she was going to get to the bottom of it, once and for all.

So, when Wrecker announced that he would be going to the market, Omega was quick to jump up and offer to go with him. It was the perfect opportunity, in Omega’s not-so-professional opinion. They were between missions, waiting for Cid to tell them to recover treasure or save someone or whatever it was that she needed them to do. Which meant that there was almost nothing for them to do while they waited except, well, wait. And, oh, has Omega waited for this opportunity.

“Oh, uh—” Wrecker looked up, trying to figure out an excuse. “That’s alright! It’s really boring out there—”

“Then why have you been there twice today already?” Omega asked. She let out a dramatic sigh. “C’mon please? It’s more boring here!”

Hunter glanced up from whatever Tech was showing him on his datapad and gave Wrecker a look. The kind of look that said stop-kriffing-arguing-already. “Just take her with you,” Hunter grunted.

“But—” Wrecker began to protest. Then, he let out a sigh, his shoulders slumping. “Fine.”

Omega cheered and ran over to Wrecker, grabbing his hand and tugging him out of Cid’s parlor. “C’mon! Let’s go get some snacks!”

And, just like that, Wrecker’s sour, slightly annoyed mood lifted. A smile stretched across Wrecker’s face, an almost bounce in his step, as he listed the different snacks he wanted to get. When they reached the market, Omega pulled him toward the Mantell Mix stall, ordering a couple cartons. Omega had dropped Wrecker’s hand to pick up the two cartons. She turned to hand him a carton, the one that was slightly overfilled, but found that her brother had disappeared.

Shoot. Where did he go? How did he move so fast, so silently? Omega looked around, searching for him. It shouldn’t have been a difficult task. Wrecker stood out among clones. Surely he would stand out among the various species frequenting the market.

Finally, she saw him. He was smiling, leaning against a fruit stall, talking to the woman handing him fresh meilooruns. Omega ran up to him, dodging a few patrons along the way.

“Wrecker! You left me!” Omega said when she reached him.

Wrecker’s face burned red, his eyes starting between her and the woman behind the stall. “Oh, uhh—” Wrecker paused, trying to figure out what to say. “I told you I was coming over here?”

“No, you didn’t!” Omega argued back. “You didn’t say anything! I just turned around and you were gone!”

“Uhh—”

“You’re Omega, aren’t you?” you, the woman behind the stall, asked.

Omega frowned, eyes narrowing. Who were you? Why did you know her name? Omega knew enough from going on missions with her brothers, knew enough from Hunter’s countless warnings, to know she shouldn’t trust someone who just happened to know who she was. “Why?”

“Wrecker talks about you a lot when he stops by,” you explained. “He stopped by this morning, asking if I had any meilooruns. Said that he wanted to share some with you. Talked a lot about how he loves sharing his favorite foods with his little sister.”

Wrecker’s already red face became an even deeper shade of red. He looked down, shuffling his feet.

And just like that, a lightbulb went off over Omega’s head. Wrecker wasn’t just running off to the market. He was running off to the market to see you. It made sense. As Omega looked at you, she realized you were very pretty. Wrecker liked pretty things almost as much as he loved food, perhaps even more. Combine the two? Well, it made sense that Wrecker would like to sneak off to see you.

But it was more than that, wasn’t it? There was…fondness? Was that the word? Regardless, it was clear in your voice when you spoke about Wrecker. Omega watched as you passed Wrecker a few more meilooruns, the way you touched his wrist gently, your fingers lingering for a second, two seconds. Wrecker smiled so wide Omega was sure it had to hurt, his own fingers lingering on you.

“I told him that I was expecting a shipment in the afternoon and that I’d hold a few for him,” you continued. “When I saw him, I waved him over. It was my fault that he wandered off without you. Don’t be too upset with him, please. I didn’t realize you were with him when I saw him, otherwise I would have been more patient.” You reached over, handing Omega a meiloorun.

Omega turned the fruit over in her hands. She glanced up at Wrecker, whose eyes had gone all wide and his lips had fallen into a pout. She knew that her brother wanted her to forgive him—and honestly, she already had, after she realized why he had run off. But…Well, how long had Wrecker been doing this? Running off to the market too ee you and never make a move?

“I’ll forgive him—” she began. Wrecker cheered, pumping his fist in the air, nearly dropping a few meilooruns. “—if you go on a date with him.”

Your mouth fell open. “What?”

“C’mon, please? Wrecker talks about you all the time!” Omega lied. She knew he was going to complain about it, but it was necessary. Her brother deserved to be loved.

“What? I do not!” Wrecker protested.

Your mouth closed as you looked at Wrecker. You licked your lips, hesitating. Then— “Do you want to go on a date with me?”

“Well—yeah!” Wrecker said. “I mean, you’re nice, and you’re pretty, and you always have the best fruit recommendations, and you’re really pretty, and—”

You laughed. “Well, if you like my recommendations, then why don’t you meet me here at six? And I can take you to my favorite restaurant.”

Wrecker was nodding along, hanging on to your every word. “Yeah! I’d love that! And could we go to the ice cream place after?”

“Of course we can.”

“Okay! I’ll be here at six!”

Wrecker and Omega then bid farewell to you, before walking back to Cid’s. As they walked back, Wrecker was practically buzzing with excitement. Omega kept waiting for Wrecker to say something about what happened, but he didn’t. Not until they stood right out of Cid’s.

“Hey, uh—Thanks for that,” Wrecker said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I really appreciate it.”

“You should’ve let me come along to the market with you sooner, and you and her could already be dating,” Omega teased.

Wrecker’s face burned red again. “You think she would like to date me?”

“Duh,” Omega said. “She’d be an idiot not to.”

“She’s not an idiot. She’s really smart!” Wrecker said. “Smart as Tech, even! Well, maybe not that smart because no one’s as smart as Tech, not even droids. But she is really smart!”

“Then of course she’d date you,” Omega said. “She did ask you out after all, didn’t she?”

“Yeah, she did!” Wrecker beamed. “Thank you, again. I really like her, and I was really nervous that she wouldn’t want to be, you know, with a guy like me.”

“Well, like I said, she’d be an idiot to not want to date you, and she’s very smart. So of course she’d like you back.”

Wrecker smiled again, before noticing Echo, Tech, and Hunter. He ran into Cid’s, holding up the meilooruns, and shouting about what he found. Omega let out a laugh before following him in. You know, maybe she should do a little more matchmaking around here. She did have more brothers to set up, didn’t she? That wouldn’t be that bad at all.

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archieimagines · 2 years

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Guess Who’s Back!?

Hey, readers! That’s right, we’ve resurrected, and we’re thrilled about it.

Between myself (Archie), Jay, Brooke, and Jesse, we’re ready to entertain again!

Of course, life has been lifing and so we’ll be more regulated in our posting. This blog will be a happy little pot on the backburner, sizzling away while we do our other lifey things.

Our updates will come as we write them, and although I’ll aim to be consistent, we're keeping this a stress-free zone! As such, requests are always welcomed, but we’ll be focusing primarily on writing what we love, meaning we’ll take on the requests that really inspire us.

We’ve cut down on our fandoms, but added some new ones: more of the Star Wars universe (including The Mandalorian, The Clone Wars, The Bad Batch and Andor), The Witcher, Bob’s Burgers, and even Attack on Titan!

Here’s our:

Masterlist

The updated fandoms list

Our ask box is open, so request away! We’re excited to get to know you again <3

Come say hi to us at:

archie: @pedropoop

jay: @midnightsmelodies

brooke: @fortheloveofhulk

jesse: @decemberfame

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rainydaydream-gal18 · 2 months

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(The Bad Batch) How He Is with His Newborn Baby

Hunter: He adores them and spends a lot of time holding them. Hunter is also really big on the whole skin-to-skin contact, so it becomes a common thing to see him walking around shirtless with the baby cradled snugly in one arm. He gets pretty good at performing tasks around the home with the baby. He's enraptured by the little one, but also very attentive to your needs. Hunter makes sure you take the time you need to eat, shower, and just have time to relax every now and then. Literally, any excuse to hold them some more, and he's giving it. He is good at rocking the baby in such a way that they fall asleep instantly in his arms.

Wrecker: The baby has him wrapped around their tiny finger already. He's already telling them how much he loves them and how proud he is. Wrecker also just spends time telling them all the fun things they're going to do together when they're old enough to walk, talk, etc. He is so unbelievably gentle and sweet with the little one in general, and also of course with you. He'll randomly stare at you and tell you how beautiful you are and what a good job you're doing.

Tech: This baby is not at the point where they can retain any information yet, but Tech spends plenty of time just talking to them. He talks about anything his mind can conjure up. The baby becomes so accustomed to the sound of his voice that it has quite the soothing effect. Additionally, Tech is very quick to pick up on the baby's cycle of needs. It gets to the point where they cry, and he can glance at his chrono and pinpoint exactly what they need according to the little schedule he's created. He also regularly checks the baby's weight, vitals, to make sure they're in good health. From time to time he voices yet again how fascinating the miracle of birth is and how proud he is of you, also checking your health.

Echo: Spends the first few weeks only holding the baby when sitting down. He can't get over how fragile they are, and he just sits there and stares at them as long as he can in amazement and adoration before they wake up from their nap or fuss about something they need. When the baby bursts into a fit of wails, he goes into a bit of a panic mode worrying about what's wrong. Eventually, he gets more comfortable and gets used to the idea that the baby is just communicating a need. It doesn't take long for him to become a professional dad. He gets pretty organized with the diaper bag and supplies so that he can just pull out whatever the baby needs at the drop of a hat.

Crosshair: He spends a good while just quietly holding the baby in his arms and watching them. Internally, he thinks they're absolutely precious and realizes he loves them so much. He already knew he'd love them, but he didn't realize it would feel like this. The baby is heart-wrenchingly cute, and he'd do anything to protect them. You come to find that he becomes more vocal, telling the baby in a sort of Crosshair-style sarcasm that they need to get their act together every time he has to handle a diaper change, feeding, etc. He's up with you at any hour day or night to help with the baby without a complaint, and regularly makes sure you're taking care of yourself also.

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trashy1turtle · 11 months

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Yeah, I'm fine

*Types "«character name> x reader" into tumblr search bar*

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letsquestjess · 11 months

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Tech: *Gently taps table*

Crosshair: *Taps back*

Wrecker: What are they doing?

Hunter: Morse code.

Tech: *Aggressively taps table*

Crosshair: *Slams hand down* YOU TAKE THAT BACK-

#tbb #the bad batch #sw tbb #sw the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #the bad batch incorrect quotes #tbb incorrect quotes #incorrect bad batch quotes #incorrect tbb quotes #incorrect quotes #tbb tech #tbb crosshair #tbb wrecker #tbb hunter #source: scatterpatter's incorrect quotes generator #I can imagine this happening before order 66

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webslinger-holland · 2 months

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Best Pilot in the Galaxy | Tech from The Bad Batch

Summary: During a mission, Tech has a hard time allowing his ship to be driven by someone else.

Warning: slight angst and argument

Pairing: Tech x Fem!Reader Pilot

Type: Oneshot

The Marauder was sitting on a world in the Outer Rim called Cassander. It was a lush, green planet with a few major bodies of water. However, most notably, the planet was growing in population and had recently become Ord Mantell's most competitive trading rival.

The ship was nearly empty, except for a singular pilot sitting in the cockpit. She was not the rightful owner of the ship, but had been assigned this mission with the group of rouge clones that did own the ship. The squad was located somewhere in the capital city nearby, attempting to steal the package in which they had come for. The pilot waited patiently for the pickup call.

Now, the pilot had been waiting for nearly two hours for the call to come through the comms. She did everything she could think of to pass the time, which included rummaging through the squad's belongings. Though she didn't find anything of value.

The gonk droid made a noise as he waddled into the cockpit. The pilot went through the ship's log, seeing all the planets the squad had recently visited. Their last stop happened to be Ord Mantell where they were assigned this mission in particular.

"Y/n! Come in," Hunter's voice sounded desperate over the comms. She quickly jolted forward in her seat, pressing the button to relay a message back.

"Read you loud and clear," Y/n responded. She began clicking buttons on the control panel, preparing the ship for liftoff.

"We need a pick up. We've been compromised," Hunter explained. He was panting on the other end of the line, which probably meant they were running.

"What part of stealth mission is so hard to understand?"

"Just hurry. We don't have a lot of time. They're sending air support," Hunter warned her.

"Oh great," Y/n scoffed sarcastically.

"I'm sending you our coordinates," Tech interjected over the communications.

As the Marauder departed off the ground, the landing gear retracted back into the ship. The wings moved downwards as the ship was angled towards the sky. The engine roared to life; the ship began flying towards the rendezvous location.

The workers from the trading post were shooting their blasters at the criminals running away from them. They tried to keep up with them, firing relentlessly as they got away with some of their own goods.

It was Wrecker, Hunter, and Tech who were carrying the heavy cargo in the form of a shipping container. Normally, it would take four guys to carry the cargo, but since Wrecker was so strong, he was able to carry the left side without help. Behind them, Echo and Omega fired shots back at the workers. They covered them as the rest ran as fast as they could.

"Whatever is in here, it better be worth it." Wrecker grunted, dodging the blaster fire.

"As long as we get paid," Hunter responded.

The small squad continued running through the vast forest, maneuvering around trees in hopes of using its coverage to their advantage. They came into a clearing with the workers getting closer each second. All of the sudden, a cliff came into their view which caused them to halt in their place.

"Where's our ride?" Echo asked desperately. He peered around his shoulder with his gun still raised.

"There!" Omega pointed into the sky.

The Marauder rounded the corner of the mountain, coming into their line of view. It flew over to the edge of the cliff to meet them. The ramp lowered to hover right by the cliff, allowing the squad to climb aboard the vessel.

The blaster fire was beginning to hit the sides of the ship. The squad fired back, striking a few of the workers down. Once everyone was aboard, Hunter slammed the button on the side of the wall so the ramp was lifted.

"That's everyone," Hunter shouted. "Get us out of here!"

"Roger that," Y/n said.

Pulling a lever, the thrusters sent a powerful volt back which propelled the ship forward rapidly. By steering the ship, Y/n directed the ship back into the mountain range. She could hear the air support coming up behind them. She took a sharp turn to deter them.

The sharp turn caused each member of the squad to loose their footing and grab something nearby to steady themselves. Carefully, Tech quickly made his way into the cockpit. He leaned over the back of the pilot's seat, resting his hand on the panel for support. He hadn't taken the time to remove his helmet.

"That is sufficient," Tech announced to the pilot. "I'll take it from here."

"A little busy here," Y/n stated instead. She turned the wheel to the left, taking another sharp turn which made everything in the ship turn that way. And Tech ended up leaning a little into her.

"Wrecker," Tech ordered. He moved to sit in the co-pilot seat which was where Echo usually sat. "Get to the tail gun."

There were at least six smaller ships following them at this point, firing as many rounds as possible. The Marauder swayed to the left and right, expertly dodging each blast aimed at them. In the tail gun, Wrecker got into position before firing back at the ships. He managed to hit one of them, but it wasn't enough to bring the ship down.

Back in the cockpit, Tech began pressing a few buttons on the control panel. The pilot glared at him through the corner of her eye, knowing exactly what he was trying to do. She maintained her grip on the sides of the wheel.

"Transitioning controls back to co-pilot," Tech announced. He went to press the final red button, but she swatted his hand away. "What are you doing?" Tech demanded an explanation.

"I know how to fly," Y/n said through gritted teeth. Her eyes were still facing forward as she focused on the task at hand.

"I never said you didn't," Tech informed her. "I am simply stating that I am ready to transition controls back to me as I am more capable of flying this vessel than you. It is my ship after all," Tech said as a matter of factly.

Hunter rolled his eyes in the background. He knew it was pointless to argue over the comment.

"You weren't hired to be the pilot for this mission," Y/n argued back. "I can get us out of this."

With that comment, one of the blaster fires struck the right wing which caused it to catch on fire. The two of them peered out the window, spotting the trail of black smoke falling behind the hit.

"You were saying?" Tech replied. He gestured to the damage done to his ship. She rolled her eyes at him.

A few more ships began trailing behind them. They began firing more shots towards them. There was no way one ship could take the whole fleet down.

"Uh guys," Wrecker announced from the tail gun. "We've got more incoming."

Ignoring the comment, Tech quickly transitioned controls back to his wheel before the other pilot could protest. He gripped the wheel harshly, moving the wheel to take a sharp left hand turn. The ship was forced to swerve around the side of the mountain; a few of the enemy ships crashed into the sides as a result. She switched controls back to her wheel, taking a right hand turn. The ship weaved around another mountainside.

Behind the googles of his helmet, Tech squinted his eyes in slight irritation. He changed controls once again. He quickly grabbed onto the lever, pulling it backwards so the thrusters gave another jolt of energy. Now they were flying a little faster.

Nevertheless, another blaster hit managed to strike the back of the ship. The Marauder jolted forward from the force of the blast. The two pilots lurched forward in their seats. The others continued to hold onto things for support.

"You aren't doing much better," Y/n replied snakily. She reached forward to press the button once more. She turned the wheel as far as she could, which caused the ship to completely turn around. She pulled the lever for the extra push.

"What are you doing?" Tech exclaimed. "Are you trying to get us killed?"

Down in the tail gun, Wrecker began firing at the ships flying directly in front of them. With his expertise, he struck down three ships. Those ships exploded into a million pieces, fierce flames erupting around them. The Marauder flew through the fire without taking damage.

The enemy ships needed to turn around before continuing their chase. They quickly swerved their ships. Once the ships were facing the right way, the thrusters kicked in for that extra power. And the enemy continued their pursuit.

"I will only say this one more time," Tech's modulated voice spoke through his helmet. He turned to face her in his seat. His eyes looked angry behind his googles. "Relinquish controls now."

"Over my dead body," Y/n challenged him. She didn't take her eyes off him.

In the background, Hunter and Echo seemed to raise their eyebrows at the two pilots. They looked between them, half expecting one of them to cave in and go back to flying the ship. But neither of them faltered.

"Uh guys," Omega interrupted them.

Both of them directed their line of attention back towards flying the ship. With a quick maneuver, they managed to dodge the mountain they were heading straight for at the last second. A few more ships crashed into it.

"You're both going to get us all killed if you don't figure something out," Hunter shouted behind them.

Reaching forward, Y/n went to press a few more buttons, but Tech swatted her hand away this time. He went ahead and pressed his own buttons. He was punching in the coordinates for their destination.

"You are not the best pilot in the galaxy," Y/n claimed. She glanced at him through the corner of her eye. He kept putting in the coordinates.

"Hardly a measurable cause," Tech said with a roll of his eyes in annoyance.

"You haven't made the Kessel Run in fourteen parsecs," Y/n added. It was like she was insisting that it could be measurable.

"I have a theory that it can be done in twelve," Tech stated as a matter of factly.

"I highly doubt that," Y/n chuckled at the comment.

Suddenly, Y/n pressed the wheel forward with all of her might. The ship began to descend down at a rapid pace, shifting into a nose dive position. The ground was growing closer and closer with each second. The enemy ships following right behind them, firing non-stop.

Both Hunter and Echo were holding onto panels behind them. The force of falling forwards was pushing them back. They were unable to move.

"You have to pull up--" Tech ordered in a slight panic.

"Oh for the last time," Y/n shouted over him. "I know what I'm doing!"

At the last possible second, the wonderfully skilled pilot pulled the wheel into her chest so that the ship was pulled up. It was so close to touching the ground, but it missed it by a hair. The last two ships crashed into the ground, exploding suddenly and sending debris flying.

Now that the threat of the chase was finally over, Y/n could relax in her seat a little. The rest of the squad was completely silent, realizing that she had managed to get them out of the situation with little damage in the end. Beside her, Tech kept his eye on her since he was still angry with her.

The Marauder started to climb in altitude, shifting towards the edge of the planet's atmosphere. It finally passed through the atmosphere, flying through space. The stars throughout the galaxy sparkled as the planet grew small and smaller. It was now all behind them.

"Are the coordinates to Ord Mantell in?" Y/n wondered. Her voice was so much calmer now. Her shoulders slumped at her sides. But she refused to make eye contact.

"Yes. They are in," Tech informed her softly. His eyes softened behind his helmet. He studied her carefully, trying to figure out what she was thinking in that brain of hers. He quickly shook it off, directing his attention back towards the void of space in front of them.

Without thinking, Tech and Y/n went to reach for the lever to send them into hyperspace. Their hands grazed each other's with neither of them being any closer to the lever than the other. They both awkwardly pulled their hands away upon contact.

"I'm sorry," Y/n muttered under her breath.

He wasn't sure if she was apologizing for the situation they just came out of or the situation that just occurred with the lever. Nevertheless, she reached for the lever once again, pulling it back to send the ship into hyperspace.

Back at Ord Mantell, the Bad Batch went back to Cid's Parlor. They stood on the other side of her desk, having just delivered the cargo that she paid them to retrieve. She peered into the package, checking to make sure everything was there.

Behind the group, Y/n stood there in total silence. Her eyes were trained on the floor as she shifted in her place awkwardly. She waited for their boss to address them.

Beside her, Tech stood about an arm's length away. He glanced at her through the corner of his eye, taking note of her odd demeanor. He raised his finger and opened his mouth to say something to her, but he was rudely cut off.

"Looks like everything is here," Cid announced. She closed the cargo container. She began rummaging through her drawers, collecting the correct amount of credits to pay both parties.

Now Y/n went to take a few steps forward and made her way through the members of the squad. She stood in front of the desk. Her boss went ahead and placed a handful of credits in her hand.

"That is your cut," Cid told her. She handed the rest of the credits to Hunter. "And here is your cut. I'll call you when I have another job," Cid claimed.

There was a brief moment of silence in the room. Cid went to cross her arms over her chest. She narrowed her eyes at the company of six standing in front of her.

"You guys work well together," Cid said honestly. "You should work together more often."

In response, Y/n breathed a scoff under her breath. The boys turned their heads to look at her, slightly surprised at her reaction. She shook her head in denial.

"Yeah. Like that's ever going to happen," Y/n rolled her eyes at the notion.

Without hesitation, she spun around on the heels of her feet in order to head towards the door. She purposely bumped into Tech's shoulder a little too harshly. She left the room with the door closing behind her.

"What's wrong with her?" Cid scoffed. She looked at the rest of the squad for some form of explanation, but none of them said anything. "Fine! Be all quiet and mysterious. See if I care," Cid said.

By the time the Bad Batch left Cid's office, Y/n was nowhere to be found in the bar. They went to sit down at the bar so they could order drinks to celebrate another successful mission. They sat in complete silence, thinking about what transpired during the mission.

"Where do you think she's gone?" Echo wondered.

Though they never pulled missions together, the Bad Batch knew that the pilot worked for Cid and was stationed at Ord Mantell. They had seen her quite often over the past few months. They had grown familiar of her. And now they worried about her.

"The odds are that she returned to her flat," Tech explained. He pushed the bridge of his googles up to be more secure on his face. He kept his focus on his data pad.

"Probably," Hunter shrugged his shoulders. "But it's late. Which means it's dark out."

"Astute observation," Tech claimed sarcastically. He gave a single nod, but didn't take his eyes off his data pad.

"And she's walking back to her flat...at the edge of town...late at night," Hunter further explained.

"She will be fine," Tech stated. He knew where he was going with this. "She is always saying how she can take care of herself and doesn't need our help. Why would that change now?"

The other members remained silent. They turned their heads to take quick glances at one another. With a silent agreement, Hunter rose to his feet and went to stand by Tech. He roughly grabbed his shoulders and hoisted him out of his seat, much to his dismay.

"Go find her. Make sure she gets home safe. And apologize to her," Hunter ordered.

"I do not see why I have to be the one to apologize when I did noth--" Tech began. He was quickly cut off.

"Tech," Hunter said in a warning tone of voice. He crossed his arms over his chest, showing that he meant business.

"Fine," Tech said in defeat. "I will apologize."

With some hesitation, Tech grabbed his helmet and fitted it over his head. He began making his way towards the door of the parlor, leaving the rest of his crew behind. He walked through the deserted streets of Ord Mantell, passing a few shady people in the process.

Now Tech knew that she lived near the edge of town because she had once mentioned it during a conversation. Besides that, Tech really didn't know where to look and simply hoped he'd bump into her before she got home so he'd know she was safe. He passed by a few alleys, peeking through each one briefly.

The Marauder was parked in a hanger bay only a few blocks away from the parlor. Just as Tech passed by the hanger, he heard a familiar voice coming from his very own ship. He backtracked by taking two steps backwards. He peered into the hangar bay to glance at his ship.

Stepping into the bay, Tech tilted his head to the side in slight curiosity. The right wing of the ship began to move downwards until it lay completely horizontal. A few seconds later, Y/n began descending down the ramp with a toolbox in hand. She walked over to the wing of the ship.

Upon seeing her, Tech sharply inhaled. He felt the back of his throat close up and his shoulders tensed at his sides. He hesitantly took a few steps forward, fiddling with his fingers nervously.

Reaching upwards, Y/n placed the single toolbox onto the flat surface of the ship's wing. She proceeded to grab onto the wing before hoisting herself up onto it. She climbed to the center of the wing to assess the damage inflicted in the crossfire.

At this point, Y/n had no idea that he was also in the hanger bay with her. She opened the toolbox, rummaging through to find the right tool. The damage done to the right wing was a massive gaping hole with burnt edges from the fire. It would eventually need a panel welded to cover it up again. But for now, she focused on the internal repairs.

Thankfully, from the assessment, nothing major had been hit. A few bolts had gotten loose and a few parts needed to be replaced. She focused on that for now.

After grabbing a socket spanner, Y/n leaned down to place her arm into the gaping hole of the wing. It went so far down that her chest was practically pressed against the surface of the wing. She used the spanner to tighten some bolts.

"What...are you doing?" Tech decided to finally announce his presence. He stepped forward until he stood in the light coming from the opening of the hanger bay.

Upon hearing that familiar voice, Y/n only rolled her eyes to herself. She continued her work as she preferred to focus on repairs rather than on him. She grunted softly, making sure that first bolt was nice and tight.

"What do you want Tech?" Y/n wondered. She pulled her arm out of the hole to assess her work. She didn't even bother to glance towards him, knowing he would have sent her a look of disapproval for working on his ship.

Slowly, Tech began to lower his gaze to the floor. He contemplated his next words carefully, fighting the urge to lash out at her for meddling with his ship. He liked things to be a certain way and would have much preferred if he did the actual repairs. Now Tech didn't want to fight with her so he changed his approach.

"I analyzed that you left the parlor on your own and thought it would be better if I accompany you back home," Tech explained. She huffed at his answer.

"I've told you before," Y/n began. "I can--"

"Take care of yourself," Tech finished. He adjusted the lenses of his goggles though he still wore his helmet. He noticed how she fell silent. "Yes, I've gathered that much."

"Why are you really out here?" Y/n wondered. She went to lean down again in order to tighten more bolts.

"I...could ask you the same," Tech replied slowly. He honestly felt like this was the first civil conversation they had ever had.

"I wanted to make some repairs on your precious ship since it was apparently my fault," Y/n claimed. Her tone sounding a little harsher now. She tightened two more bolts in the process.

"That is not what I meant," Tech interjected. He took a step forward. He gazed up at her figure perched on the wing, attempting to reason with her. "I was...caught up in the moment. Shouldn't have said those things," Tech confessed quietly.

"Well, don't worry. As soon as I finish up these repairs, I'll leave and you'll never have to see me again," Y/n responded.

For some reason, Tech couldn't combat a response to her comment. He simply nodded his head understandingly. He lowered his gaze to stare down at the ground and allowed her to finish her repairs in silence. He thought for some time how he could fix this relationship since it wasn't his strong suit. Fixing things was more his style.

"Blast," Y/n's voice pulled him out of his train of thought. He glanced up at her.

The sleeve of her blue flight suit had gotten in the way of her repairs. She had rolled her sleeves up to keep the material out of her way, but the sleeves continued to fall back down to her wrists every time she placed her arm in the hole. She pulled back and rose to her feet.

Without hesitation, Y/n's hands flew to the top button of her flight suit. She began to undue the buttons in which she revealed the black tank top underneath. All the while, Tech studied her carefully as her nimble fingers worked steadily. His pupils dilated behind those goggles of his.

Upon reaching her waistline, Y/n had stopped unbuttoning and shrugged the suit off her shoulders. She tied the sleeves around her waist. She dropped to her knees to continue working without the distraction of her clothes getting in the way.

Slowly, Tech raised his hand to the side of his head and clicked the bottom to save the recording to the drive. He records everything and he was certainly glad he recorded that. He wanted to revisit the recording later for his own 'research' purposes.

"There," Y/n sighed. She sat back on her knees, wiping her dirty hands on the pants of her flight suit. "Repairs are finished."

Naturally, Y/n began to pack away the tools she used and placed them back into the box. She closed the lid of the toolbox, tossing it over the edge of the wing for it to land on the ground with a thump. She then proceeded to jump down off the wing of the ship, landing a little hard so her knees buckled slightly.

Just like she promised, Y/n had every intention of leaving the hanger bay so that they'd never have to see her again. She went to walk away, but just as she passed beside him, Tech reached out and grabbed her forearm. She halted in her steps.

Neither of them could look at each other. She felt his gloved fingers digging into her bare skin, but not hard enough that it would leave marks. She slowly turned to look at him, but he kept his head down.

"I...really came here to apologize," Tech confessed. When Tech lifted his gaze to meet her face, he saw how her eyebrows went up in slight surprise. It definitely caught her off guard.

"I see," Y/n thought about his words carefully. She shifted her balance from one foot to the other. "So all those things you said back on Cassander where just...what?"

He closed his eyes, seriously regretting everything he said. "Like I said earlier, in the moment, I was incredibly frustrated with you."

"Because I wouldn't give up the controls?" Y/n said flatly.

"No, because I recognize that my levels of dopamine are elevated when I'm around you and I distance myself from you in order to prevent that from happening,” Tech confessed before he could even stop himself.

But now, hearing what he just said, Tech quickly averted his gaze away from her. He was thankful to be wearing his helmet so she wouldn't see how bright his cheeks had gotten. He released his grip on her arm, letting it fall back down to his side.

For once, Y/n actually understood what he said. Her eyebrows rose in surprise at this sudden confession. She definitely did not expect him to blurt out his emotions that night, especially after their fight on the ship. She knew better than to tease him at a time like this.

"I-I don't understand why," Tech said rather sadly. That was the first time that he'd spoken those words out loud.

What broke her heart was the tone of defeat laced with his words. It told her that he'd been wrestling with these foreign emotions and thoughts for some time. He didn't know how to react around her and so he acted with defense. He pushed those feeling away, fighting against it.

Hesitantly, Y/n lifted her hands to the sides of his helmet. She went to remove his helmet slowly, revealing his face to her for the first time today. She tossed the helmet to the side without a care in the world, but he still refused to meet her gaze.

"You are probably repulsed by me," Tech began. "From the way I treated you and the words I said to--"

But Tech wasn't able to finish that sentence. Because Y/n had taken his face in her hands and leaned upwards to press her lips against his own. He froze in his place.

His eyes were wide open in surprise. His hands were elevated on either side of him because he didn't know what to do with them. He could feel the softness of her lips still against his own. Before Tech had the chance to process what was happening, Y/n pulled away from him.

The two of them were standing so close together; the chests being pressed against one another's. Their breath mingled as their noses bumped together once or twice. He glanced down at her lips because he wanted nothing more than to taste them once more.

His hands found their way down to her hips with one hand sneaking around her lower back. He pressed that hand into her back which brought her body even closer to his. She released a small gasp.

"Apology accepted," Y/n whispered to him. She played with the edge of the plastoid armor on his chest. "And I'm sorry for the way I acted towards you."

"Why cyare?" Tech wondered. He raised his hand to the side of her face, tucking a single strand of hair behind her ear. He held his hand against her cheek.

"I should have given up the controls. You are the better pilot and it is your ship," Y/n explained with a shake of the head.

"I am not the better pilot," Tech stated firmly.

There was a moment of silence between them. "I can't make split second decisions and calculations like you do when you're flying."

"Well, I've never done the Kessel Run." Tech argued back playfully. He smiled down at her. "At least, not in twelve parsecs."

"Fourteen," Y/n corrected him. "I did it in fourteen."

"Fine. Fourteen," Tech caved in.

Slowly, Tech tilted his head to the side and began to lean down with every intention of kissing her again. But the two of them were interrupted when someone cleared their throat over by the entrance of the hanger bay. The two of them quickly pulled apart and turned to face whoever had interrupted them.

The other members of the Bad Batch stood looking at them near the entrance of the hanger. It was initially Hunter who had cleared his throat to garner their attention; he stood with his arms folded across his chest just as a disapproving father would. Beside him, Wrecker and Omega were practically squealing with each other. They couldn't contain their excitement. And Echo averted his gaze in an awkward manner.

"Care to explain yourselves?" Hunter hinted. He glanced between the two of them with a playful smirk on his face.

"I think they finally confessed that they like each other," Wrecker interrupted. His words coming out louder than anticipated. He nudged Echo who stood beside him.

"You think?" Echo glanced at him.

"It's exciting, isn't it?" Omega smiled at them.

Meanwhile, Tech quickly collected his helmet off the ground and placed it over his head once again. He hoped it would cover the blush creeping up his neck to his face. He knew he wouldn't hear the end of the taunting from his brothers anytime soon.

"Well boys. It looks like we got another member on our crew," Hunter said slowly. "Welcome to the Bad Batch."

#the bad batch #the clone wars #tech bad batch #tech x reader #tech x y/n #tech x you #star wars #the marauder ship #tech oneshot #tech fluff #tech angst #tech imagine #hunter #crosshair #omega #wrecker #echo #tech

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tiffs-scribbles · 7 days

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Could you imagine the irony if Wrecker was the only one in the squad that actually likes drinking black caf and the rest of them can only drink it if it has milk and sugar?

Hunter: You tolerate the unbearable sweetness of Mantell Mix but willingly choose to drink this?

Wrecker: It’s all about balance ⚖️

Tech: I believe he’ll ingest just about anything with a smile.

Crosshair: But cries while eating spicy nerf nuggets.

Wrecker: H-Hey!?

Echo: I always thought his taste buds were busted.

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lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom · 4 months

Text

You're Different

Crosshair x Reader

Summary- Ever since Crosshair made a snide comment about leaving a team member to die, you've had a lingering thought. Even though you knew he loved you, doubts rose.

A/N- Crosshair is my favorite clone, but also hard to write. Apologies if he's OOC! Feel free to LMK how I can improve XoXo

Word Count- 995

"Well I think you're letting your personal feelings get involved. You're just guilty because you left Echo at the Citatdel. Oh, I don't blame you. I'd have left him for dead too..."

The words sent chills down your spine. You couldn't pinpoint why. Crosshair says rash things all the time. He's always cold and negative, secretly you love it about him. But, leaving a team member- a brother for dead? Just because?

Well... he'd never do that to you, right? Crosshair loves you, you know that. But what was he capable of doing when he put his 'personal feelings' aside?

You came back to reality when Hunter instructed everyone to scout the area, look for a better way up the mountain into the tower.

You hurried in your step to walk next to Crosshair, something he preferred to keep you safer. His hands tightly gripped his rifle, a subtle way, you noticed, to release his anger.

He kept a keen eye for any kind of disturbance, more on edge than usual. You noticed, but was at a loss for how to bring it up. Your doubts clouded you.

'I'd have left him for dead too...' You brought a hand up to tug at your glove nervously. You couldn't even focus on the mission, 'Well I think you're letting your personal feelings get involved.' You had to clear your head, he wasn't talking about you. He would never.

Your head shot up at the yell of your name, followed by- 'Crosshair, scout the East terrain, we will go West." Hunter commanded.

"Yes, sir." You responded instinctively, Crosshair nodding and turning.

You didn't even notice that Crosshair stopped and waited for you to catch up. You squinted your eyes behind your helmet and pushed back any thoughts.

Everything went smooth for a minute, silence consuming the air. Just the gentle sound of rocks crunching under your feet. It helped you shift your focus back to your surroundings, eyes searching for any intruders or a possible entrance to the tower.

While it was usually a calm and comfortable silence between you two, this was not. The air was thick, and needed cutting. You wondered if he noticed it as well.

"What's wrong with you?" His gravel voice started. He did notice it...

You snapped in his direction, you could practically see his scowl through his helmet.

"Nothing. I'm fine." You continued to walk.

"Stop that, we don't do the whole 'lie' thing." He was right, he always seemed to be. You could hear him fiddling with his rifle, but you didn't turn to look at him.

"Lets just focus on the mission, I wouldn't want my 'personal feelings' to get in the way." You said, picking up your step. You hated the way you jumped to conclusions. Sarcasm drips from your words. Passive aggressiveness was something you and Crosshair shared with many people, but rarely each other.

"Cut the shit." He said, grabbing your forearm. This took you by surprise, but it shouldn't have. He made sure to glance around the area, then took off his helmet.

"What Cross?" You were sour, having been lost in your thoughts.

You took off your helmet as well, then crossed your arms. You challenged him with a look in the eyes.

"It doesn't take my defect to know something is bothering you. We can't let it affect the mission. What is it?" He says fiercely. While he did seem pretty rude and demanding, it was more care then he'd show anyone else.

"So it's just about this mission?" Damn it, why would you say that. Especially after Crosshair was actually trying to find out what was wrong.

He scoffs and leans against a large rock. "Fine, screw up the mission for all I care." He puts a pick in between his teeth, then cocks his rifle. You don't flinch a bit when he shoots a small surveillance droid behind your left shoulder. You keep your eyes trained on his.

"I wouldn't leave you." He says, chewing on the pick, and lowering the rifle.

"Wha-"

"I know when something is bothering you."

"Yeah but, how-" He cuts you off again, stepping close to you. inches away.

"I'm always watching." He says, a smirk present.

You give him a playful smack on the arm, he just laughs. With a sigh the situation becomes serious again.

"Really?" You looked up at him,

"I was just trying to get under Rex skin. You know we don't leave brothers behind." You smiled, bigger than you had all day.

"What if I was a reg?" You say, now pulling at his arm so he was closer.

"But you're not, you're different." He points out, flicking his pick to the ground.

He deeply inhaled through his nose, pressing his forehead down onto yours. You were silent and still after closing your eyes to enjoy the moment.

Suddenly you heard a third parties movement. You dropped into a squat, Crosshair bringing his rifle to balance on your shoulder plate. The two of you worked in perfect unison.

It was just Wrecker.

"What are you two doing?" He asks, dumbfounded on what he walked upon.

"Uhm, nothing. This side's clear." You said, slowly turning around.

Crosshairs rifle was still cocked and ready with his finger on the trigger. Even in the heat of the moment, he was able to defend.

You swallowed, thinking about how attractive he was in that second.

"Hunter needs us back at the cliff. They found a way in." Wrecker says before heading off.

"We're coming." Crosshair says, annoyed.

You turn and smile at him before putting your helmet back on.

He does the same and follows closely behind you.

"Hey," He starts, grabbing your attention. "You can pull that with anyone you want, but next time just tell me. It goes a lot faster that way." Crosshair was sweet and gentle in his own way. He was saying 'I love you.'

"I love you too, Cross."

A/N- Thank you so much for reading! I'm not super proud of this one, I think I rushed it. I love Crosshair sm, but I have no idea how to write him.

Tags- (lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss

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tangents-within-tangents · 3 months

Text

The Bad Batch as Penguins of Madagascar Quotes

Bc I’ve seen a few posts making this magnificent comparison and both of these squads are near and dear to my heart and bc I need a distraction from the s3 premiere ahhh

Tech: *mission relevant info* Hunter: Tell me something I don’t know! Tech: Without mucus your stomach would digest itself Hunter: … Hunter: Tell me something else I don’t know…something less disturbing

Hunter: (to Caleb) It's okay, kid. We're not going to hurt you Crosshair: *cocks his gun* Not true, Hunter, they did authorize lethal force

Wrecker: *absolutely decking his bros* You pillow fight like a bunch of little girls!

Crosshair: What part of "zip it" eludes you?! The "zip" or the "it"?!

Echo: I don't mind saying it, that guy vexes me. *narrows eyes* He's a vexer.

Hunter: Boys, no training tonight. It's game night! Tech: Trivia! Let's play trivia! I dominate trivia! Omega: Oh! Can we play Simon Says this week? Tech: Yes, Simon says we play TRIVIA!!

Crosshair: I find reason tedious and boring. We'll use force.

Echo: I'm sorry, boys. I sometimes resort to sarcasm when facing the unknown Tech: No doubt

Hunter: Oh I’ve seen accident prone, try Wrecker and Crosshair! With a Chandrilan lantern! And SIX BOTTLES of rocket fuel!! Tech: Worst talent show ever

Hunter: There's no such thing as too paranoid, Omega. Remember that, and forget you ever heard it!

Tech: SCIENCE! WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN ME?!?

Omega: I have an idea! But I'm not sure how safe it is Wrecker: I like it already!

Crosshair: *while fighting* You cannot win, Hunter! I am fueled with a boiling hate! A raging fury! Hunter: And a babbling mouth! *slaps him*

Omega: No! I swore I’d never use my adorability as a weapon again, and I meant it!

Echo: Wrecker, cover Omega’s ears, I intend to use my angry words

Tech: This red line shows the frustration level of a really smart person forced to take orders from some dunder-brained boob. As you can see the frustration just keeps rising and rising and rising. I mean, why don't they put the smart guy in charge, huh? IT DOESN’T MAKE ANY SENSE! SOMETHING HAS GOT TO GIVE, PEOPLE! AM I THE ONLY ONE SEEING THIS?!

Wrecker and Omega: *run in making incomprehensible panicked noises* Hunter: Anyone catch that? Echo: *nonchalantly interprets it exactly* The Batch: … Echo: What? I’m fluent in panic

Tech: Cool cars go faster. That's a scientific fact.

Cody, in his one episode: I believe now I know why “volunteers” ends in “tears”

Hunter: No batcher gets left behind, that’s why! Wrecker: What about Crosshair? Hunter: Okay, one batcher gets left behind Omega: and Echo? Hunter: Maybe two batchers get left behind Tech: Um… Hunter: *groan* Comparatively few batchers get left behind, okay?!

Omega: I thought you agreed this was a dangerous weapon! Wrecker: Which is the best kind! What good is a safe weapon?! Tech: He has a point

Hunter: Avert your eyes, young Omega, you’ll never be able to unsee this! Tech, recording bc that’s his freaking hobby: Don’t worry about it I’ll burn you a dvd!

Crosshair: *standing outside the Marauder* Hunter! I have brought you a hand drawn greeting card! It says “Roses are red. Posies are green. Sorry about Bracca, I was too mean. Your pal, Crosshair” :) Hunter: *walks out and shreds the card*

Hunter: Get up here. That’s an order! Tech: *salutes* Permission to defy order? Hunter: Permission denied! Tech: Then I deny your denial (sorry)

Echo: *watching Hunter and Wrecker, captured and surrounded by stormtroopers* Well this hardly seems fair Echo: *jumps in a walker and defeats them easily* Told you it wasn't fair

*Phee and Tech kiss* Omega: *eyes being covered by Hunter* awww Wrecker: Finally!

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starryevermore · 1 year

Text

sharing is caring ✧ wrecker

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

inspiration: this tiktok

pairing: wrecker x fem!reader

summary: a classic story—girl gets snack, boy wants snack.

word count: 1,036

warnings?: fluff, pet name (mesh’la), not proofread

You knew this was going to happen the second you did it. Honestly, you were practically asking for it. You, plus Mantell Mix, plus Wrecker? Oh, yeah, he was definitely going to be asking for some of your favorite snack. Especially when you sat on his lap, curling into his chest, your head resting on his shoulder. It was practically a dream come true for him. (You were almost certain he had had a dream like this. It at least seemed like it, given how you would sometimes wake to him muttering your name and Mantell Mix in his sleep.) Wrecker had no right, though, to take your not-so-innocent plan and make you melt.

Damn Wrecker. Damn him and his pretty face. Maker, why did he have to have such a sweet face? A perfect pout? Beautiful brown eyes that made your insides feel all gooey? You swore his enhancement wasn’t to be bigger and stronger than his brothers. No, it was to get anything he wanted if he would jut his lip out and make his eyes all big and wide. It wasn’t fair. (Though, you mused, he might say the same about you when you ask if you could snuggle with Lula. It evens out. But still. Totally unfair.)

If you were honest, you loved it. There wasn’t much you wouldn’t do for Wrecker. It had been Wrecker who insisted that you join him and his brothers. It had been Wrecker who watched your back at every turn. It had been Wrecker who was there for you when you mourned the loss of everything the war took from. It had been Wrecker who bundled you up in his arms, squeezing you so tight you could barely breathe just so you could feel something. He kissed your every wound. He checked all your weapons. He taught you how to disarm bombs. He was there for you for everything you ever could have wanted and needed him for.

But dammit, some things were sacred.

As he looked at you, his bottom lip sticking out, you reached up, poking his lip, pushing it back in. “No,” you said, a laugh bubbling up in you. “Get your own.”

“Cid said I’m not allowed to put things on her tab anymore!”

“Then get some credits of your own, big boy.” You patted his chest before turning back to your Mantell Mix.

“It tastes better when it’s yours!” he tried, reaching out, hoping to grab some of your snack before you could yank it away. He pouted again when you held it as far away from his as you could manage. “C’mon, mesh’la, don’t be mean!”

If you were being extra honest, you would admit that you had only done this because you love how prettily Wrecker begs. When you got the Mantell Mix, you had full intentions of sharing it with him. But, where was the fun in just being nice? Wasn’t it better to perch yourself on his lap, his favorite snack within arm’s reach? Wasn’t it better to see him whine and pout and plead?

His fingers dug into your hips. You squirmed in his lap, trying to get away. Okay, perhaps you also liked to push his buttons a little too much. Perhaps you also liked it—loved it—when he manhandled you. Perhaps you had a lot of ulterior motives in doing this.

Wrecker nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. Then— he pulled away, looked away from you. Nose stuck in the air, as if he was pretending to be those hoity toity well-to-do people that act like the rest of the galaxy is beneath them. “Fine. You don’t get to cuddle Lula tonight then!”

You gasped. “How dare you! That’s not fair!”

Wrecker shrugged. “Shoulda thoughta that before you were stingy, mesh’la.”

“I’ll share my snack if you share Lula,” you bargained.

He shook his head. “Nuh uh. Too late for that now.”

It was your turn to pout now. Wrecker’s resolve cracked ever so slightly as you gave him your most pitiful look. But, when Wrecker really wanted something, it was going to take a lot more than a pout to break him. So, instead, you began to wiggled yourself out of his embrace, looking around the Marauder to find your would-be victim.

“Fine,” you said, your feet touching the ground. “Y’know, I think I heard Echo say that he was kinda hungry. Think I might go share with him—”

Wrecker’s arms became your prison. He squeezed you so tight you thought you might explode as he hauled you back onto his lap. His lip curled ever so slightly. Okay. It was a bit of a low blow, acting like you were going to share with one of his brothers. But you and him both knew you wouldn’t. The only other person you would share with was Omega. (After all, who could say no to her?) His brothers, on the other hand? Off limits. No snack sharing, not one bit.

“You better not,” he growled, the sound a deep, low rumble in his chest.

A smirk tugged at your lips. “Or what? Already took Lula away. What’s next? Gonna deprive me of your snuggles?”

“I might!” As you raised a brow at him, he frowned. His head dipped while he let out a quiet, “No.”

“Mm, what a predicament we’re in.” You held the Mantell Mix out to him. “Whatd’ya say we call a truce?”

“I don’t know about a truce, but I ain’t sharing!”

You laughed. You took some of your snack and lifted it to his mouth. His mouth dropped, letting you feed it to him. “Can I have Lula tonight now?”

Wrecker thought as he chewed. “Dunno.”

You fed him some more of the snack. “Now?”

“Maybe.”

You set the carton to the side, giggling as his brows furrowed together. You cupped his face in your hands, leaning in, and gave him the biggest kiss you could imagine. “Now?” you asked again.

“…yeah, okay.” He kissed you again. “But can I have s’more of the Mantell Mix, please?”

You nodded, laughing quietly. “Sharing is caring, after all.”

“But not with the others!”

“No, not with the others.”

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rainydaydream-gal18 · 14 days

Text

(The Bad Batch) A Rainy Evening With Him

Author's Note: Happy Bad Batch eve! I hope you enjoy!

Warning: Storms, Established Relationship, Fluff

The air on Pabu was rather humid. Well, it always was. But you detected something else in the air late that afternoon in the middle of a project. You paused your task to look up at the sky, noting the gray clouds that were gradually rolling in. The wind picked up and tugged at a nearby banner so hard that you could hear the fabric whipping repeatedly.

The citizens of Pabu began to pack up and head indoors. Boats were making their way in for the evening. No one was panicked. There was no rush. Everyone was moving in an unhurried, orderly manner, but with purpose.

You looked around for a particular Bad Batcher in hopes of finding him before the rainstorm began...

Hunter:

It seemed as if Hunter had been looking for you too. You saw him standing at the base of a stairwell, tilting his head to search the crowd of people making their way to their homes. When he locked eyes with you, that familiar smile crossed his features. He took your hand, drawing you closer to him.

"Storm's coming," he said. "But you already knew that. it's nothing major, but it's not the kind of weather to be working in."

"Ah, so that's why everyone's making their exit," you said, glancing around. Hunter nodded and began leading you up the stairs, off toward where the Batch's quarters were.

Just as you made it to the patio, a few droplets fell on your skin. You and Hunter both walked under the cover of the patio, watching as more drops fell, speckling the stone floor outside. It was a quaint little patio with a cushioned swing. You gave Hunter's hand a tug and went over to sink into the cushion comfortably. He followed the unspoken request, pressing his leg against yours as you both sat side-by-side on the swing.

Hunter put an arm around you, and you leaned into the contact. His warm scent mingled with the salty sea air, like a sandalwood candle.

"I love this weather," you admitted. "Sunny days are great, but there's something about a little rainstorm once in a while."

He nodded in agreement. "The air smells good."

After that, neither of you felt the need to say anything more.

He planted a kiss on your head, and the two of you enjoyed the wind and the sound of the rain falling on the top of the patio, until it was time to go inside.

Wrecker:

You saw Wrecker on the docks, having just come in from fishing on a boat. He smiled when he saw you, strutting over to give you a big hug in greeting.

"They said there's a storm, so we are done for the day," he informed you, setting you down gently. His hand didn't release yours. "We should probably get back before the rain hits."

"Good idea," you replied with a nod. The two of you moved with the steady flow of the crowd as they headed back to their homes. There was no hurry, even as the wind continued to pick up and blow palm tree leaves around. By the time you reached the first stairwell, a few droplets of rain fell on your cheeks and hand.

"Oh, it's starting!" you remarked, showing him the drop on your hand. Wrecker grinned as a few fell on him also, and the two of you automatically began to move just a little faster. The crowds had cleared for the most part, so you could pick up your pace.

At one point, Wrecker just lifted you up and carried you up the final set of stairs, with the both of you laughing in glee as the rain started to pour. He barreled into the Bad Batch's living quarters, quickly plopped you down on the nearest cushion, and shut the door. Your body shook with laughter as you got to work on gathering some blankets and pillows. Wrecker helped you make a little spot for the two of you to curl up under some blankets and watch the rain.

Wrecker held you securely against his chest, his arm extended, so that you could rest your head on it beside him. The rain began its barrage on the roof and against the windows, but it began to fade into a dull sound in the distance as you focused on Wrecker's breathing and the low rumble of his voice as you both talked.

Tech:

You made your way to the one place you knew Tech would be. Normally, he'd be out working on projects somewhere across Pabu; but after the Bad Batch's latest mission, the current ship the squad occupied needed some fine-tuning.

Okay, perhaps a little more than fine-tuning.

The thud of your shoes on the ramp paused as you stopped to take in the state of the weather once more. Things had certainly moved along since you began your trek to the ship. Rain clouds cast the island in a gray darkness, though you could still see the sun peeking out in the distance.

One drop plummeting to the sand turned into two, and then that turned into many. Pretty soon, it became a downpour. You closed your eyes to enjoy one more gust of wind before climbing the rest of the way up the ramp. You walked down the hall of the dark ship rounded the corner to see the incredible mind himself seated in the cockpit.

He seemed to be running a diagnostic to finalize the repair process on his datapad. He heard your approach and looked up.

"Oh, hello." He greeted you in a light, airy tone as he adjusted his goggles. "I saw the storm, and I was just about to comm you."

You smiled affectionately at his concern. "Well, I'm here. How's it looking?" You leaned over to peek at his datapad over his shoulder, and he scrolled through the results of the scan for you to see.

"It took me all morning and this afternoon, but everything seems to be in order."

"That's great. I'm glad to hear that." You took a seat in the co-pilot's chair, watching the ripples of rainwater pounding against the shield of the ship. "It's so beautiful out."

Tech's gaze found yours again, waiting for you to elaborate.

"I just like rain every now and then. The air smells so fresh, and the wind feels kind of exhilarating."

"I can relate in finding beauty in it," he agreed. "Although, I am glad to have completed the repairs before the shift in weather. It would've been...inconvenient."

You nodded. "Certainly." While Tech went back to finalizing his work, you smiled at an idea that popped into your head. You rose from the chair and headed into the back to grab some blankets and pillows from the bunks. When you returned, Tech looked up curiously to see you arranging them just so on the floor beside some crates in the hall.

You extended your hand toward him, motioning for him to join you. "Now that you're done, come sit with me?"

Tech typed something out lightning fast on his datapad before shutting it off. To your delight, he sat down against the crates and opened his arm for you to scooch in up against his side.

"This is...nice," he said, gazing down at you with a soft smile on his You breathed in his scent, exhaling contentedly as you rested your head against his shoulder.

With the rain pounding against the hull of the ship, you two spent the rest of the stormy evening just talking and exchanging a kiss or two.

Echo:

You were already inside the Bad Batch's quarters, shaking the rain from you, when the front door opened. Echo entered, glancing around as if he were looking for you. When he saw you, his whole expression lightened.

"I had a feeling you'd be here," he said. "That storm rolled in pretty fast."

"Yeah, it sure did," you replied, taking his hand in yours and giving him a soft kiss on the lips in greeting. "Isn't it nice, though? We get to relax for the rest of the evening."

He seemed entranced by the kiss and nodded. "Uh-huh, very nice."

"Want to get cozy on the couch?"

Echo nodded at the proposition, and you snatched up a throw blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over the both of you as you curled up on the couch together.

You laid your head on Echo's chest, listening to his heartbeat thrum within it. His hand rested on your back, occasionally patting it gently. Your gazes were fixed on the nearest glass window where you saw the wind carrying all sorts of tropical leaves in a flurry. The rain continued to escalate, and you sighed deeply in contentment.

Neither you nor Echo felt the need to speak for a while. You simply enjoyed the sounds of the storm outside and the close contact. At some point, the rise and fall of Echo's chest became slower, deeper. You realized that he had fallen asleep, and you smiled to yourself. Planting a kiss on his chin before settling back in, you let your own breathing slow. It wasn't long before your eyes grew so heavy that they fell shut, and you fell asleep.

Crosshair:

As soon as you'd heard that everyone was heading home for the evening, you started looking for one person in particular. Crosshair found you first, approaching you after you'd hardly begun your own search.

"It's nothing serious," he told you when you took his hand. "But it's nearly the end of the day anyway, so people are going home."

"Works for me," you replied, giving his hand a squeeze. He began to lead the way through the throngs of people making their way toward the steps. You relished the way his hand felt in yours, and the way the wind blew so fiercely against your skin, and the way it felt like you were breathing in the freshest air with each gust.

You and Crosshair made it to the Bad Batch's quarters and went inside just as the rain began to fall. You couldn't help but remain at the doorway with your hand resting on the glass, watching the gray clouds rolling over the island and he way the trees danced in the wind.

Crosshair had initially walked halfway across the room, but when he paused and noticed where you stood, he backtracked and returned to your side. He propped the door open and slid down to sit right in the doorway, looking up at you in an unspoken offer.

You smiled and scooched in next to him, breathing a sigh as you rested your head against his shoulder and felt another gust of wind blow over you. It made you shiver, and yet you felt so cozy.

"Thank you," you whispered, and you felt Crosshair's chin rest on your head in response. His arm wrapped around you gently and took hold of your hand.

A comfortable silence fell over you both as you watched the storm. You would exchange the occasional kiss, and you both stayed like that for some time, enjoying each other's company and also the weather...

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the-marshals-wife · 1 year

Text

The Bad Batch Having a Token of Their Love For You Would Include (Bad Batch x Reader)

A/N: I love these boys so much and I thought of this instead of going to sleep all week. I really hope y'all like my idea for Echo's especially. He deserves the galaxy and more.❤️ (I also had extra ideas that are definitely still in character but probably "anachronistic", so I just labeled them bonus. I mean we have finally 'caf'' aka coffee in SW canon, so maybe there's hope for hoodies 🤭)

Description: Bad Batch x Fem!Reader | Warnings: none, just lots fluff and kisses

★ Bad Batch Tag List ★ @dantes-devil-huntress @sageislostinspring (comment to be added!)

Gif credit: user mutantfactor

Hunter

He would get a tattoo of your name

Hunter did not need his heightened senses to be certain that he had fallen in love with you - if anything, they just strengthened his conviction that you were the one he was meant to find

Being the intensely devoted and thoughtful man he is, you were on his mind constantly, and he wanted a symbol of his love to be as a part of him as you had become

He didn't even tell you at first because he wanted it to be surprise

It wasn't until he changed into plainclothes for an undercover mission that you noticed the new black ink on his right bicep

You grabbed his arm and stared at the Aurebesh letters spelling your name

"You like it?" he asked, a little nervous

Speechless, you pulled him into a kiss

"I'll take that as a yes" he smiled, before getting another embrace filled with kisses

Whenever you have time alone together, you love to slowly trace the letters with your finger and listen as he dreamily talks about the future

Later in your relationship, he would want to add to it with a portrait of you, and someday, the names of your children

Bonus: he would keep anything you gave him like a pendant or a ring and wear it whenever he could (this man would totally wear one of your scrunchies and make it look hot - a product of his 'girl dad' powers that you find very attractive)

Wrecker

He would keep your shirt to cuddle with

The only thing Wrecker has ever been discreet about in his entire life is his feelings as he was falling for you

It wasn't for lack of trying. He had been officially head over heels for months, but every time he tried to tell you, his words suddenly came out wrong

You thought it was adorable, and you were sure he'd figure out how to say what he was feeling when he was ready. It just gave you more opportunity to realize you were falling for him too

What you couldn't figure out, however, was where your favorite shirt had disappeared to

That is until, after days of searching, you finally caught a glimpse of it tucked beneath the pillow in Wrecker's bunk

You were stifling a giggle when he walked up behind you, looking nothing less than mortified

"Oh, Y/N! That! I uh...I found it on the floor and I was going to give it back to you! But it smelled really nice, and pretty...like you, and um, then I forgot..." he stammered, his face bright red

You smiled and kissed him on the cheek, "Keep it."

In the weeks following, you would refresh it with a spray of your perfume every so often when he wasn't looking

He would also draw doodles of you whenever he had downtime

You were all on a mission not long after the discovery of that day, and during his watch, you rolled over to see him drawing in the sand with a stick. He'd scribbled your initials together within a heart, surrounded by a dozen tinier hearts.

Suffice to say he was not the only one feeling absolutely smitten from then on

Bonus: speaking of shirts, you would absolutely be the couple with the "If lost, return to ___ + I'm ___" tees (likely worn with your matching homemade 'friendship' bracelets)

Tech

He would keep a recording of your voice and laughter

Tech is a private person when it comes to his emotions, but he feels very deeply, even if he isn't sure how to best express his growing affection for you (he thinks it's obvious, after all)

It's this very reason why you doubted that he returned your feelings at first, until you walked by him one day and heard the sound of your own laughter, playing over and over

"What's that?" you questioned, now recognizing the moment that had caused your sides to nearly split (Wrecker had just taken the most dramatic fall into mud you'd ever seen, immediately after bragging he was 'too heavy' to slip)

Tech muted the sound and kept his stare on the datapad, "I capture auditory recordings of all of my interactions for analysis, and file away important data for later reference."

"My laughing is 'important data'?" you smirked as he hesitated for only a moment

"Well, no. Not technically. It is, however, a pleasant sound that reminds me of you, and one that I would like not to forget. By that reasoning, it is important to me," he stated, calmly meeting your awe-struck gaze

It took all your strength not throw yourself into his arms right then and there. He went back to filing his recordings, oblivious to the fact that he had just irreversibly won your heart

He'd also incorporate you into some of his private passcodes

Anything from your initials to your eye color to your favorite flower - just some of the many details that he associates with you and remind him of how much he cares for you

Bonus: if he had a lockscreen/background, it would definitely be a picture of you. He would also be the type to make you a playlist of your favorite songs all from memory because he knows you that well

Crosshair

He would engrave your name on his rifle

Crosshair is a man of conviction and loyalty, and when he was certain that he could trust you with his heart, he wanted to display his loyalty in turn

Modifying his rifle in any way at all is significant, so ingraining your name on the scope is a very personal gesture to him

He caught you completely by surprise on a mission, casually showing it to you while you had watch together

You were stunned to see your name glistening in the firelight, every letter expertly etched into the smooth metal, "Cross, I can't believe you would do that for me..."

"Your love makes my aim true," he replied, wholly sincere

This one remark sealed your fate, giving you both the courage to lean in and share your first kiss

"Then you will never miss," you whispered afterward

You spent the rest of your watch sitting close together in soothing silence under the stars

He would also carve your initials into the wall of his bunk

Wherever he would go, you would be there also. His devotion is unyielding, and you have a partner until the galaxy itself burns up

Bonus: a huge sign of his affection would be letting you wear his clothes. He may act disgruntled, but it's all in jest because would be the boyfriend that's extremely proud to see you walking around in his hoodie

Echo

He would have your handprint on his armor

It seemed like a lifetime since he'd had the handprint from Captain Rex on his chestplate that had meant so much to him through those long years of war

When Echo is sure of something, nothing can move him from it. Not much time was required for him to know that he wanted to share his life with you, and that he wanted your handprint on his armor

He confided in you quite a bit about his past in the GAR, and you knew about the original print, but you never dreamed that he would ask you to replicate it

"Are you sure?" you asked in disbelief

"I am, Y/N. There's no one else whose mark I'd rather carry with me, and no one I want by my side more. On and off the battlefield," he confessed, taking your hand in his

Tears welling in your eyes, you dipped your other hand into the red paint on the table, placed it carefully onto his chest, and pressed your lips to his

More than a symbol of love, you both knew this was a vow to keep fighting for a free galaxy where you could build a future together

He would also have a photo of you in his personal things

He's not afraid of letting his relationship with you be known around his brothers, but his horrifying experiences imprisoned by the Separatists have made him extra cautious in all things. He keeps his photo of you safely tucked away and never brings it on missions, not wanting to risk it falling into the hands of anyone who would ever want to harm you

Instead, whenever you're apart, he holds his hand to his chest before he drifts to sleep and dreams of you. The nightmares are all but gone

Bonus: you two would totally have matching caf mugs with snarky sayings. "Grumpy parents in the morning" vibes all the way

#the bad batch imagine #the bad batch headcanons #hunter x reader #wrecker x reader #tech x reader #crosshair x reader #echo x reader #star wars imagine #star wars headcanons #the bad batch #my writing #yes wrecker's and tech's are a bit longer #they're my faves what can i say? 🥰#plus echo and yn are totally married now i don't make the rules 🤭#the bad batch x reader #bad batch headcanons

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ireadwithmyears · 1 month

Text

How each member of the bad batch would be with a visually impaired significant other (short imagine’s/headcannons

Word count: 5.4K

Pairings: the bad batch ex female reader (individual)

Tags/warnings: some are suggestive, mostly domestic fluff, hurt/comfort, mild injuries

note: look, it’s the epitome of self indulgence. I wrote this solely because I’m blind, and have never seen these ideas discussed when it comes to our beloved boys. However, I recognize that the majority of people reading this will not have shared this experience, so this is why I am adding a disclaimer/reminder to tell you that blindness is a spectrum, and the majority of us have at least a degree of useable vision left, so that is why I continue to use visual language/descriptors like look or watching. That being said, I hope you enjoy these, I had so much fun writing them, and if you have an idea for a specific scenario so I can do more of these, or another particular clone who isn’t a member of the batch, please let me know, and I would be happy to write more

Hunter🩷

Hunter is the best at planning dates when it comes to keeping your accessibility and comfort in mind.

If he wants to take you out somewhere, he’ll always go and scope it out beforehand, analyzing things that might not make it an enjoyable experience for you. I.e. if the lighting is too low and will obscure any of your remaining vision. If the music is too loud and will make it hard for you to effectively communicate with him. He knows that both of these things, especially when they’re working in tandem, can make you feel on edge and anxious, and that’s the last thing he wants you to feel when he’s taking you out on a date.

He will always ask the establishment about things like accessible or braille menus, or, if you happen to have a guide dog, seating that will have the space to accommodate and be comfortable for all of you.

If the menu isn’t accessible for you, he will always give you a heads up beforehand, using his datapad to pull up the menu on the holonet so that he can help you familiarize yourself with it, and you can decide what you want before you get there, taking a lot of the stress and pressure off of you because you don’t have to rush.

He wants you to feel cherished, loved, and safe when you’re out and about with him. So if you are going somewhere that’s particularly busy or crowded, he will also adapt himself.

He’ll keep you close, whether it’s with your arm tucked securely in the crook of his elbow to guide you around, or his hand gently placed on the small of your back, letting it rest there so that you know he’s right there with you.

He never plans on getting separated from you, but if, by some unforeseen circumstance, it happens by accident, he has a plan for that too.

If you’ve got remaining vision that is useable, he will intentionally wear bright, contrasting colours to make him easier to spot, even when he’s a distance away.

If you don’t have any remaining vision, he’ll wear something like keys that jingle, or an article of jewellery that makes a distinct sound as he walks so that you can tell when he’s approaching.

Regardless, every time you go on a night out, he will take the time to describe his appearance to you in detail, his general physical description, what he’s wearing, so that if, for some reason, you do get separated, you know how best to describe him to someone, so that they can locate him for you and help you make your way back to him

His enhanced senses have become innately attuned to your normal patterns and rhythms, and if he notices any rapid fluctuation or change be it with your breathing or heart rate, indicating that the environment you’re in is causing you stress, he’s whisking you away, taking you back home, despite any of your protests. He knows you’re just fighting him because you feel guilty about potentially messing up the night, which you absolutely are not.

He will not let you feel that way for long, because when you’re home, he is determined to make you feel like the beautiful, treasured, and wanted human being that you are.

He orders your favourite takeout food. He’ll lie you down on your bed, surrounding you with soft blankets and pillows, gently and tenderly beginning to caress and massage the tension from your tensed up shoulders and back, partly because he feels like he might have inadvertently been the cause of it being there in the first place.

“I’m sorry,” you try to apologize. “I know you really wanted to...”

“Shh,” he quiets your apology, a hand coming up to softly brush a finger against your lips, resting his forehead against yours gently. “Meshla,” he breathes, unable to help the small smirk of amusement that pulls at the corners of his mouth as he observes, taking note of your breath audibly catching in the back of your throat as his finger, slow and slightly teasing, begins to lightly trace the edge of your bottom lip.

He presses his lips to yours in a sweet, chaste kiss as he affirms, “this is all I want,” he breathes in a whisper close to your ear that immediately has your whole body erupting in goosebumps.

“You,” he continues, his voice a low, husky rumble against your neck as his lips press, warm and deliberate, directly where your pulse flutters beneath them, pulling a soft, yet audible gasp out of you, that makes his lips curve up into a smile that you can feel against the skin of your neck. “Are all I want.”

He spends the rest of the night taking his time to prove that to you, in every way that he knows how.

Tech🩷

He takes note of every single bruise you get on your legs from bumping into shit all the time.

You’re blind, it’s just an occupational hazard. You might not even notice that you have one, but he certainly does, and he’ll take care to notify you of every time you accumulate a new mark in your collection.

“There is a bruise directly above your left knee,” he observes, gentle fingers tracing over the mark with a soft frown marring his features.

He naturally has picked up on using the language that is most helpful to describe the location of something visual to you. You didn’t even have to ask the first time you were on hands and knees on the floor, feeling around for one of your shoes. He didn’t point, and say “it’s over there,” which is just instinctive habit for most people. Instead, he had a used more specific directives like “behind you, on a slight diagonal to your right.”

“How did this happen,” he asks softly now, placing your hand directly on top of the blossoming mark on your leg.

You give him a half shrug and a rueful smile. “I don’t know,” you admit, honestly puzzled. “It happens all the time.”

From then on, he observes you closely, quickly coming to the realization that there are things that are just harder for you to look out for, and, just as quickly, doing his best to rectify each one. He’s easily able to identify a pattern of cause and effect that lead to your many bruises, bumps, and small every day accidents, and rather than being over bearing and cautious with you, he just figures out a way to remove the root of each problem entirely.

Each step on the Marauder’s gangway is suddenly marked with a long strip of brightly coloured tape at each edge, so that you can more confidently move down the steps without having to fumble to find the edge with your foot.

Low sitting caf tables in the middle of the living room, with sharp, jagged corners jutting out are suddenly pushed up against the wall, so that you don’t have to be careful while stepping around them, trying not to hit your leg off of one of them.

He makes sure that any overhead cupboards in the kitchen that are hard for you to notice until your head is colliding with their open doors, are kept securely shut, recalling a particular incident when, whilst putting away dishes, your head had caught on one of the cupboard doors, large bump blossoming on your forehead, just barely missing your eye. He had frowned, gently holding an ice pack to the swelling bump, deciding that from now then on, he would put any of the dishes away that needed to go on the top shelves. He wouldn’t budge on this, even when you tried to argue.

“Cyar,” he had said, voice stern, even as he gently took you by both of your shoulders. “I understand your need to be able to do things independently, and I respect it greatly. But, as much as you can make a light about getting bruises on your legs from these little incidents. Your head is much too important to apply that same lightness to, and I will not compromise on that so please, let me do this for you.” he had leaned down, barely brushing his lips over the bump on your head in a caring, affectionate gesture, and that had made your resolve completely crumble.

He’s also hyper aware of your systems and ways of organizing things, and it has become a habit for him to make sure that it is maintained.

Shampoo and conditioner bottles that look almost identical with exception to the labels that isn’t much help to you are always set in a specific order for you to find in the shower. You always leave things like your wallet and your cane in the same place, and if anyone messes with these orders, it can really throw you off.

If anyone does touch or move any of your things, regardless of how insignificant, without telling you first, Tech will find out, and, especially if it’s one of his brothers, will thoroughly scold them for it, ensuring that they understand why somethings so small could be really frustrating and disorienting for you, and makes sure that they never do it again.

If you read braille, this man learns it for fun one day on a whim, and he doesn’t even tell you about it.

He’ll put away your groceries for you one day, and then you’ll be searching for something like a dinner ingredient, and find that he’s attached a braille label to the box, with completely correct use of the six dots that form the language.

When you confront him with it, he only shrugs, adjusting his goggles with a slightly confused expression.

“You sound surprised,” he observes with one raised eyebrow. “In a practical sense, this was a logical solution,” he continues, clearly unfazed by your display of shock.

“That’s not fair,” you pout, leaning against the counter and folding your arms. “If you’re going to learn braille, then you at least need to teach me some Mandoa,” you challenge.

“I was not aware that you were interested in the subject. But that is an agreeable request. What would you like to know?” He asks, looking at you questioningly.

“Like,” you bite your lip, considering, tilting your head in curiosity. “What’s that word that you always call me?” You ask. “It starts with an S? I think? Or maybe a C...c cyar?” You say, suddenly uncertain and cringing at your own pronunciation.

He straightens, suddenly grateful that you’re unable to see the blush that’s crept into his cheeks as he answers evenly.

“Ah, yes, the word that you were saying is correct. Cyar... it means, love... or beloved,” he answers, voice going soft as he catches your hand in his, almost absently pressing his lips to the back of your knuckles briefly as you stare at him, surprised.

“You ... you love me?” You ask, hopeful and voice clearly bewildered. The smile that pulls at the corners of your lips lights up the whole room.

Both eyebrows arch as he looks down at you, because now he’s the one who’s confused. When he responds, his voice is far less confident and sure than it usually is. It holds almost a shy, completely uncharacteristic timidness, which conveys the genuine honesty in his words when he speaks.

“Well ...cyar. of course I do. I thought it was obvious.”

Echo🩷

Echo, unlike most people, understands all the aches and pains, mental and physical, that come with being disabled.

He’s sat with you on the bathroom floor, your head resting against the cool linoleum of one of the tiles on the wall after a concert. You had come home to find your head throbbing from the after affects of being surrounded by a combination of extremely loud music, a screaming crowd, and strobe lights that made you wish that you didn’t have any remaining vision at all.

Your eyes were shut tightly, and your heart fluttered with surprise and gratitude when, with his one functioning hand, Echo, movements slow and meticulous, carefully began to undo your hair from the tight updo it had been forced into all night. There he sat, fingers so, so gentle as they ran through your hair, undoing the tangles and soothing away some of the tight ache that had gathered at the back of your head.

He’s careful to stay quiet, not wanting to interrupt the little bit of peace that you had found. The only thing that fell from his lips were gentle breaths and soft murmurs of “oh, sweetness, s’okay,” lips pressing the lightest kisses to your flushed cheek, the side of your aching forehead, until the painkillers had finally, finally kicked in.

If you’re a cane user, he always has his eyes peeled for the little bumps and cracks along the sidewalk.

He’s seen what happens when the tip gets caught in one of them, when the handle inevitably jabs against your stomach or ribs and the immediate discomfort on your face that follows.

He also sees the bruises that are left there afterwards, and as much as he loves gently pressing his lips to each of them, reassuring you that he’ll kiss them better, he’d rather them just not be there in the first place.

So, he always watches out for them, giving you an ample warning on ones that your cane could get caught in so that you can move it out of the way.

He takes you to a holofilm, and you both don’t realize that it’s not available with audio description until you’re in your seats and the headset doesn’t work. He immediately turns to you, giving you a reassuring smile and offering his hand, saying “We can leave, if you want. If you’re not going to get anything out of this, we can go, and we’ll find something else to do.”

You decide to stick it out, rationalizing that you’ll still be able to get something out of the film, if not the whole story, and besides, he can catch you up on parts you didn’t understand after it’s over.

In the end, it’s still worth it for you.

You finish half of a bag of popcorn before commercials are even over. You’re intrigued by the movie for almost half of it, and then finally, you spend the rest of it passed out with your head resting on Echo’s shoulder, only for him to wake you, slightly chagrined, when the credits are rolling.

When you’re out of the theater, you walk together hand in hand down the street. He apologizes profusely, saying that he should have done more research. You try to laugh it off to reassure him that it was fine, because you just had one of the best naps of your life in that theater. When it’s clear that that doesn’t help, you’re turning to him, sighing with a small frown.

“Echo,” you say with a small shake of your head. “I’m the one who should be sorry, not you, love.” At his look of bewilderment, you continue. “You do so much for me already, and I’m just so, so grateful for that. It’s not always something I feel like I can repay you for.” You look away, ashamed.

Because it’s true. He has his own set of issues and lingering problems from the injuries he sustained at the citadel. You can encourage him to do things like his physiotherapy exercises that ensures that his cybernetics are working in tandem with his body. But you can’t actually help him with them, whether it be with making modifications or repairs. It sometimes makes you feel a bit useless, because he helps you so much and you feel like you can only help him so little, and you feel like you’re just adding to his already overflowing plate sometimes.

“I know there could be easier people for you to be with,” you confess, voice quiet.

Echo stops dead at the street corner, catching your wrist to stop you from moving forward, and turning to fully face you with his brow creased in a frown.

“Oh, Cyar’ika,” he says, voice soft, reaching out a hand to tilt your head up so that you’re looking at him. “Now who put that idea in your head, ner kar’ta?” he whispers, gazing down at you with pursed lips.

Unexpected tears spring to your eyes at his gentle tone. The truth is that you can’t place this feeling on a singular person, though people have contributed to it. Family members have made comments in passing, strangers who look at the two of you and immediately begin to judge from there own preconceived notions and outside opinions. It’s society at large, who has made you feel like your blindness is a burden to the ones you love.

You don’t know how to say that, though. So you remain silent as Echo leans down, dropping a lingering kiss to your forehead as he whispers, “I don’t need you to make my life easier, cyar. You make my life meaningful, and that, to me, is more important.

He rests his forehead against yours, brushing a soft kiss to your lips. “Your needs don’t make you a burden, cyar’ika. I want you to remember that. I want to make sure that they are always being met. It’s the least I can do, you understand?”

All you can do is nod, your heart in your throat.

The next time you go see a holofilm with him, and the audio description isn’t available, Echo is prepared this time.

He still offers to leave, but when you refuse, he has a plan. In his own time, and on the occasions when you both have been watching something at home, he always makes sure the described video settings are on, for your benefit, and when he’s alone, for his.

He’s observed closely, listening and carefully paying attention to how the narrator’s go about describing things. So, when the movie starts, he leans over to you, keeping his voice low and quiet, beginning to describe to you what’s happening onscreen, careful to never interrupt any dialogue.

You stare at him, more than a little surprised. “Echo, are you going to do this for the whole film?” You ask, caught off guard and delighted all at once.

He gives you a quick nod. “Yes,” he answers matter-of-factly. “Now, be quiet and let me do it.”

True to his word, he does, staying close to you and keeping his voice quiet, so as not to disturb anyone around you. If someone still tries to shush him or gives him a dirty look for talking in the theater, he glares at them, in only the way that Echo can, until they stop.

This time, you stay awake during the whole film, watching intently, and listening to echos every word as he is meticulous in describing the visual things that you’re missing. In spite of all of the things that are different in comparison to your last date, one thing still remains the same.

You still finish the movie with your head resting on his broad shoulder, and he still looks at you like you’re the centre of his world.

Wrecker🩷

The first time you make a blind joke about yourself in front of him, he’s terrified.

Instinctively, he starts laughing, but then, registering your words, he immediately cuts himself off, not wanting to offend you, and is concerned that you’re being mean to yourself, which he will not allow.

When you only snort at his reaction, playfully nudging him and explaining how it’s fine, because you have to make fun of the things that you are unable to change, and how it’s actually a mark of self love if you have the ability to laugh at yourself, slowly, he begins to understand.

Soon enough, he not only readily laughs at your self deprecating humour and blind jokes, but at one point, he ends up slipping out one of his own before he can stop himself.

Again, he’s immediately apologetic and regretting his words, but when you throw back your head and laugh heartily, he feels a little less insecure and soon enough, you both have the ability to crack blind jokes with each other without missing a beat, to everyone else’s chagrin and fond amusement.

He decides that having the ability to make you laugh, getting to watch your eyes sparkle with amusement and hearing the sounds of your joy is music to his ears, and is one of his favourite things.

Wrecker is your number one protector. Not in a toxic, over protective way.

Even though he’s only got one functioning eye, chances are he’s still got more vision than you, so he’s taking it upon himself to be the working set in this relationship, meaning he’s always watching out for you.

If you’ve got a guide dog, the first time he encounters it, he might have gone to pet it, but, before he did, he sees the do not interact sign, and stops short, quickly pulling back and apologizing.

He asks questions, just to make sure he understands why it’s important, and after you explain it, he fully respects the boundaries and never forgets them, to which you are immensely thankful.

He doesn’t understand why you’re so grateful for him just doing the decent thing, until you tell him that a lot of people understand that you’re not supposed to pet the dog, but will either do it anyways, thinking that if you can’t see them doing it and they do it silently, you won’t notice, or they’ll talk in a distracting way to the animal, which is sometimes worse, and equally as distracting for the dog to work through.

This angers him, that they would take advantage of your blindness in such a disrespectful manner, and because you’ve explicitly told him that distracting your dog could potentially put you in danger, under the right circumstances.

From then on, he’s always watching.

If someone is petting your dog while it’s working, or trying to distract it, he’s right there, towering over them and glaring with his arms crossed, not so subtly pointing at the do not pet sign until they back away, stuttering and flustered.

If a child runs up to pet it, he’ll much more gently intercept them, crouching down on the ground to quietly explain to them the rules. In your experience, children are often much more respectful than adults, and watching him interact so kindly with them melts your heart every time.

Wrecker is tall. Standing at 6 feet six, it makes him not the most ideal guiding companion.

If he’s guiding you himself, sometimes, unintentionally, his elbow might knock against your head, for which he is immediately aware of, and instantly apologetic.

He will always stop, large hands gently cradling the sides of your face as he looks you over, worried that even the slightest bump from him could leave a bruise. Regardless of what he finds, though, he’ll always lean down, dropping a kiss to your forehead with a soft, “m sorry, meshla.”

His solution to this problem, however, is a tad bit unconventional.

When confronted with a situation where it’s just more efficient for him to guide you, for example, a street blocked off by construction, taped off areas and pylons everywhere, instead of offering you something like his hand or his wrist to hold, he simply reaches down, scoops you up into his arms and carries you over his shoulder until you’ve both cleared the obstacles together, you letting out a surprised squeak and giggling all the while.

Wrecker finds you beautiful, every day, all the time, and he is constant with his reminders of that.

As a blind person, it can be more difficult to coordinate a whole outfit, look, hair, and make up. He is so appreciative, and loves if you do that. But, if you’re one of those blind people who never learned how to do make up, who isn’t as confident in their sense of personal style, and you feel a little bit self-conscious about how much, or how little, in your opinion, effort you put into your look when you’re going out on a date with him, he will quickly assuage your fears the minute he catches wind of them.

He’s very good at detecting those days where you’re not feeling good about your appearance, just intuitively sensing when you’re having a bit of an off day, and when you could use a reminder of how beautiful and precious you are to him. He knows he can’t magically change your mind.

But he can tell you about all the things he finds attractive about you, every day, if you need that reminder.

He’ll tell you of each one, each part of you that he finds beautiful beyond belief, while taking the time to softly caress and kiss each one, with whispered affirmations of “Such a pretty little thing,” and “You’re perfect, cyar, absolutely perfect.”

And if that’s not enough, he’ll keep going, keep moving downwards until he can look up at your beautiful face, watching from in between your parted thighs as your lips form equally beautiful noises for him.

Crosshair🩷

It isn’t that Crosshair doesn’t want to help you. It’s just that, honestly, he’s a little bit hesitant to, in the beginning, fearing that he might overstep, because he places such a high value on choice, and respects your independence and autonomy to much to question you and your abilities.

He trusts that, if you need his help, you’ll come to him and ask. He also trusts that you’ve been living with blindness for a long time, maybe even since birth, and you’re aware enough to know your boundaries and limits, trusting that you’ll advocate when you need him to help with one of those limits.

Just because he doesn’t help you as much in the physical sense, does not mean he isn’t your number one advocate, because he absolutely is.

For example, if you’re a guide dog user, and you both are going out together using a ride sharing app. If the driver refuses to let you in they’re speeder because of your service dog, he will wait patiently for you to explain, analyzing every micro expression of the driver and knowing when they’re still not listening to you, and he will step in without hesitation.

Wearing his most menacing glare, and in a voice that is deadly calm, he will absolutely read them the riot act. He knows every law regarding your guide dog, and knows just how properly to phrase them in a way that will make the driver scared, usually when he mentions the 5000 credits fine they could be sued for not denying you access

He’s also keeping his eyes out to make sure that no one distracts your dog, and isn’t afraid to directly confront anyone who tries, saying something snarky like, “You know, maybe you’re the one who needs a guide dog, if you can’t read the don’t pet me sign that’s right in front of your face,” paired with a signature eye roll.

They always back away stuttering, and it always makes you laugh, even as you gently rebuke him, saying “Cross, that was a bit rude.”

He scowls, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you against him as he responds.

“And you, sweet girl, are too nice,” he purrs lowly against your ear. But, with the way that he begins to nuzzle at your neck, you don’t really think it bothers him that much.

If you’re one of those blind people who feels like asking for help is just burdening other people with your problems, and would rather risk facing the consequences by trying to do something yourself, rather than ask for help, he will find out, and he will not be pleased in the slightest.

Your stubbornness is something that he loves about you. But if it has a tendency to go too far, especially if you’re putting yourself in harms way, that adoration will quickly turn to frustration.

For example, one time, you both were staying at a place that had a glass topped stove.

These things are so inaccessible for blind people, it’s not even funny. But rather than admit defeat and let him cook dinner, you decided that you could figure it out, and gave it your best shot.

Your best shot ended with you trying to line up the pot with the burner, and very quickly, receiving a searing burn on your hand from touching the heat.

You had not anticipated it getting that hot that fast , and as you quickly pull your hand away, tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you let out a pained hiss.

““what are you doing?”

He had materialized behind you from seemingly out of nowhere, voice a silky, yet tensed coil as he reaches around you carefully, quickly flicking off the burner before long, dextrous fingers wrap around your wrist, still gentle, even as he insistently pulls your hand away from where you’ve been clutching it to your chest, eyes keenly examining the burn with a soft frown on his face.

Wordlessly, he guides you over to the kitchen sink, hand on the small of your back, turning the water on cold and carefully placing your injured hand beneath the stream.

Only then does he come to stand in front of you, placing both of his hands on your shoulders, his expression hard as he looks down at you.

“What were you thinking, cyar?” He grits out, voice almost a growl as he tries to understand. “Why didn’t you wait for me? I could have helped and prevented this,” he gestures to your hand. “From happening.”

You blame the trembling in your voice on the lingering throbbing ache in your hand.

“I’m s sorry. I I thought that I could figure it out. You were busy, and I didn’t want to bother you B because I’m scared that I burden you with all the help I need sometimes and.”

“Stop,” he cuts you off in one quick, decisive syllable, and you instantly fall silent.

He tilts your chin up with one hand, guiding your eyes to look at him. His lips form a thin line when he sees the glimmer of unshed tears there. When he next speaks, his voice is still firm, but there is an underlying gentleness and softening in his tone. It has lost its hard edge, and it’s protective bite.

“You are not a burden, to anyone, but especially to me.”

“But,” you try to interject, but he easily silences you, taking your face in both of his hands and cradling it gently.

“Shh, cyar, listen to me,” he says, his voice a quiet command.

“If you are a burden, then you are my burden. In the same way that I am yours.” He takes your uninjured hand in his, relaxing his fingers against yours, allowing you to feel it’s tremors.

Oh.

It’s been so long since his hand has shaken like this. He’s worked so hard to try and work through this particular trauma, and though it hasn’t completely gone away, it only begins to tremble during moments of high stress. You flush with shame, realizing that this moment of high stress is completely on you.

“I know what you’re doing, and stop it,” he says, voice stern, squeezing your hand in a silent warning. “Look at me, cyar’ika,” he continues, voice softening.

When you do, he continues. “If we are each other’s burdens, then we take care of each other, together. Do you understand me?”

You nod, actually stunned into complete silence at his proclamation.

“Good,” he says, voice softening further. He leans forward, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips, fingers gently caressing the side of your neck as he pulls back.

He gives you a playful nudge as he smirks.

“Don’t ever try something like that again, cyar,” he quips with a scowl. “Your eyes already don’t work, and if you lose one of your hands, you’re completely fucked.”

All the levity of the moment vanishes, and it ends with your face pulling into a smile, a soft laugh falling from your parted lips as he watches you, eyes filled with adoration.

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cloned-eyes · 1 year

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JAHCUSDHCUSBCUUBSH.......don't forget to feed your local merman

(full version under cut)

#the bad batch #tbb wrecker #the bad batch fanart #clone force 99 #star wars #star wars fanart #mermaid au #eyesdraws #BACK AGAIN WITH MORE AU'S #AHHHHHHHHH #bro but imagine visiting him everyday to bring him mantel mix

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webslinger-holland · 3 months

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Running Bets | Hunter from The Bad Batch

Summary: The Bad Batch likes to make bets during missions, especially when things get really chaotic.

Warning: mentions of death, weapons, and droids being dismembered

Pairing: Hunter x Fem!Reader Jedi

Word Count: 3.5k

Type: Oneshot

The Bad Batch were currently away on another one of their missions. They found themselves aboard a modified Providence-Class Separatist Dreadnought which served as General Grievous's main command ship. Their mission was quite simple: infiltrate the naval warship, retrieve a piece of valuable intel, and return it back to the jedi council.

A few years prior, the Kaminoans had specifically requested for the Jedi Council to select and send a Jedi to come work with the rebellious group of clones. They had hoped being under the command of a jedi master would beat them into shape and teach them how to properly follow orders.

However, the Kaminoans didn't know what they had gotten themselves into when General L/n was sent to work with The Bad Batch. She was the only jedi who jumped at the opportunity to lead the group of misfits since nobody else wanted to be assigned to them. She came with her own sense of recklessness that only added to the squads over-the-top plans and inability to follow order the 'right way.'

Now, just a few years later, the five members of the Bad Batch stood in front of a closed corridor on the dreadnought. There was a comfortable silence that settled over them which was only interrupted a few times by Crosshair clicking the scope of his sniper rifle, Wrecker cracking his knuckles in preparation for the fight ahead of them, and Tech tapping away at his data pad. They stared at the closed door right in front of them, growing slightly impatient.

"Ugh," Wrecker groaned while rolling his eyes in annoyance. "What's taking so long?"

"I am trying to crack into the ship's security system. It's a complex system, but once I'm in, I'll be able to access all the doors of the dreadnought and open this one for us," Tech explained to them. He was kneeling beside the data panel beside the door, pressing some buttons in the process.

The only problem was that the rest of them had tuned him out after the word 'security.'

"Why can't I just smash through the doors? It'll be a lot quicker than this," Wrecker argued.

"Because that would give away the element of surprise," Hunter interjected. "Nobody knows we're here."

"And I, for one, would like to keep it that way," General L/n added.

"Just hurry up, will you?" Wrecker groaned. "I'm dying to crush some droids."

"I've...almost...got...it," Tech said rather slowly while pressing buttons on the panel quickly.

The screen became illuminated with a shade of green, which shown in the reflection of his goggles adorned on his face. He was now granted access to the entire ship's security system via his data pad. He stood back up to join his brothers. He pressed a few buttons on his data pad to open the large sealed blast door in front of them.

"Eyes up. We don't know what we're up against on the other side of this," Hunter told the rest of the group. They waited for the door to open for them. He drew his own two blasters out of the holsters, keeping them ready for a fight.

The other members of the group seemed to follow his actions by readying their own weapons. The general, who stood in the front and center of the group, decided to pull her own two lightsabers from her belt. Her thumbs lingering over the button in preparation for activation. Her eyes trained on the sealed door in front of her, holding her breath in anticipation.

"Care to wager a bet, boys?" She hoped it would put the rest of them at ease.

"Don't we always?" Crosshair inquired with a slight hint of sarcasm in his tone.

"Loser has to clean the ship including the refresher," Y/n smirked to herself. She glanced over her shoulder to meet Wrecker's gaze.

"That's not that bad of a punishment," Wrecker scoffed while his shoulders slumped in slight disappointment.

"Have you seen the ship recently? Can't even see the floor," Hunter interjected.

"It has gotten pretty bad," Tech agreed. Oddly enough, Tech was easily one of the messiest ones because of all the little projects he left lying around. One could trip over all the cords and wires on the ground.

"Fine," Wrecker groaned more to himself. "Loser cleans the ship."

"Including the refresher," Y/n quickly added, not wanting him to miss out that little detail because she had every intention of making sure he lost today.

"Including the refresher," Wrecker grumbled under his breath.

"Whenever you're ready, Tech." The General was prepared for the fight ahead of them, keeping a firm grip on the two lightsabers in her grasp. She readjusted her stance and lifted her lightsabers up in a defensive manner.

Finally, as if on cue, Tech pressed a single button on his data pad which activated the blast doors in front of them. The doors began opening slowly from the center, retracting back into the walls and revealing the vast hallway corridor in front of them.

What the Bad Batch hadn't expected was to find the corridor completely packed with the traditional B-1 battle droids. There had to have been fifty or sixty of them standing around with blasters in hand. Their long yellow heads seemed to turn towards the source of the noise all simultaneously.

"A jedi?" One of the closer droids exclaimed in slight surprise. He pointed towards the group to signal the others. "Blast them!"

Before the droids even had a chance to start firing, General L/n had activated her two yellow lightsabers and charged straight towards the company of clankers. She dodged each of their shots, moving swiftly from left to right. Once she got close enough to them, she swiftly swung her lightsaber to slice through the base of their blasters, rendering them useless.

Behind her, the rest of them started firing their own shots and taking out droids while making their way down the corridor. Each of them showcasing their own unique style of fighting. While Crosshair usually lingered behind the group to take his precise shots, Wrecker always charged head on and fired wildly at anything in sight. There was Hunter who liked switching between blasters and blades, but often kept to his knifes as a preference. In contrast, Tech always carried two blasters and fired calculated shots.

Despite all their differences, the Bad Batch successfully worked together as a team. The General also had a different strategy. She always rushed head on; though it wasn't because she was eager for the fight, but more so because she wanted to protect the others if she could. Her two lightsabers acted as their only defense in many situations. And they trusted her enough to cover them.

Taking more droids down, Tech quickly maneuvered his way through a clear and open path until he stood in front of the next closed door. His twin joined his side and covered his back so he could have the time to open the next door without getting shot. However, when Tech pressed the button on his data pad, the doors in front of him didn't open and his data pad flashed red.

"Uh oh," Tech said to himself.

"Uh oh?" Hunter repeated. He grabbed the blade of his knife before throwing it across the room, sticking directly into a battle droid's head. "What does 'uh oh' mean, Tech?" Hunter demanded an answer.

"This door isn't opening," Tech explained shortly. He kept pressing buttons on his data pad in hopes that it would open if he tried a different combination.

"I thought --" Y/n grunted as she sliced through another droid. "You said you overroad the ship's security system and that you'd have full access to all doors."

"I did," Tech replied with a strong sense of frustration in his voice.

Pressing one final button, the door opened ever so slightly but then closed again. There had to be someone on the other side, operating the system to keep it closed from them.

"Someone is intentionally trying to keep this door closed and keep us out," Tech announced to the rest of them. His eyes scanned the vast space of the door, thinking about how he could get through.

"Well, get it open." Y/n replied.

Kneeling down beside the door, Tech got to work by prying the metal panel away from the wall. His skillful fingers threaded through the various colorful wires, searching for a cord to connect to his data pad. He called out to the others, saying he was gonna need a minute to break through.

As Tech worked steadily, Crosshair stood right beside him and fired strategically from his sniper's rifle. He took out droids who even turned in their general direction, not wanting them to get remotely close to them.

Just as the group of battle droids was beginning to thin, the doors on the left and right side of them opened to reveal more. The droids marched right into the fight, acting as the reinforcements to protect whatever was locked behind the main door. They fired relentlessly which was starting to put a strain on the group.

At some point, Wrecker had abandoned his rapid firing blaster and decided to just rip droids apart. It wasn't that hard of a task since they were made of a relatively cheap metal. He'd simply grab a droid, tear the limps off, and toss the remaining parts to the side. He threw one of the droid's bodies into the crowd coming into the corridor, which ended up knocking some of them down.

"I've got ten already!" Wrecker announced over the loud blaster fire echoing in the room. He smiled proudly to himself as he tore the arms off another droid.

"I'm on seventeen," Y/n called back. She could have sworn she heard the sergeant chuckled behind his helmet.

"Wha--" Wrecker was at a loss for words. He retrieved his blaster once again, firing rapidly in hopes of taking down more droids than his companion.

As she sliced through two more droids, Y/n turned her head and looked over her shoulder. She wore an amused smile on her face when she announced: "Nineteen!"

"You're falling behind, Wrecker." Crosshair taunted from the sidelines. He went to adjust his scope before pulling the trigger a few more times, watching the droids fall from behind it.

"Yeah? How many are you on?" Wrecker asked snakily.

"Don't worry about it."

In the center of the room, Hunter had pulled his vibroblade out of the sheath on his forearm. He jabbed the knife into the backs of droids, sendings jolts of electricity through them and taking their main computing systems out. He worked through the growing crowd of clankers, moving between them smoothly in a way that managed to dodge their firepower.

Upon turning, Hunter spotted a couple of them pointing their blasters directly at him. He dropped down to the floor just as they began firing, getting out of the way just in the knick of time. He summersaulted towards them, swiping his leg out to take out their legs from underneath them. The three droids fell to the floor. He plunged his knife into their heads before they had a chance to regain composure.

"How's that door coming, Tech?" Hunter inquired.

Now Tech was working steadily at cracking the system's code. He just needed a little bit more time, which he was certain his brothers could grant him. At first, Tech didn't respond to Hunter's question. All of the sudden, a battle droid had come to approach him and stood directly beside him.

"Halt," the droid ordered him.

Without looking up, Tech pulled one of his blasters out of his holster. He raised it quickly and fired a single shot, which managed to lodge itself directly into the droid's head. He pocketed his blaster again as the droid collapsed right beside him and went right back to work on the door.

"Just a few more adjustments," Tech replied to the others. He clicked a few more buttons on his data pad, but nothing that effected their current situation. They were still stuck in the corridor and more droids were filtering in by the second.

"You're taking a long time. Thought you were supposed to be the smart one," Wrecker called out. He grabbed another droid, raising it above his head and sending it hurdling down the corridor to take out another company of them.

"I am the smart one," Tech reassured them with a hint of bluntness in his voice. He did not look the slightest bit amused by Wrecker's comment.

"Heads up," Hunter announced.

He took out an electro magnet pulse grenade, pressed the button on the side to activate it and threw it into a crowd of droids coming into the corridor. The grenade landed at the feet of the droids before random bursts of electricity and energy surged from it. The droids' bodies shook from the electricity, shutting them down.

Despite their efforts, more droids just kept coming after them. It seemed like it was a never ending steady flow of them. When one droid went down, another two would come into the corridor to replace them. The amount of dead droids littering the ground with becoming overwhelming.

At some point, Hunter was firing shots towards droids coming from the left and Y/n was deflecting blasts coming from droids on the right side. They met in the center of the room; their backs pressing together. The two of them moved in a synchronized harmony, trusting that the other was able to cover their backs and silently communicating with their timed movements.

Tapping into the force. Y/n raised her two lightsabers over her head and forced them to form an 'x' shape directly in front of Hunter's helmet. This movement deflected a single blaster shot that was intended to strike the sergeant in the head. If it hadn't been for her senses and his stillness in that movement, Hunter would've taken the shot to the head. But that wasn't gonna happen on her watch.

"Thanks," Hunter peered over his shoulder.

"Don't mention it," Y/n waved it off.

With their backs pressed together, Hunter and Y/n continued to work together to take down the droids coming at them. The two of them moved with ultimate precision that they dominated the field. They'd never danced like this before.

At this point, Wrecker and Crosshair had stopped firing their own shots just to watch the others in action. The immediate threat was gone now as the number of droids firing at them had dwindled drastically.

Spotting the last four droids coming towards them in a line, Y/n took a single step away from her partner. She twisted her body to launch her lightsaber down the hallway, watching the yellow blade circle rapidly towards them. The lightsaber effortlessly sliced through the droids heads and they clattered to the ground. Before the lightsaber made contact with the wall, Y/n summoned it back into her hand and switched it off. She pocketed them both onto her belt.

The four members of the squad met in the center of the room while the other continued working on the connecting wires to his data pad. They briefly glanced at the mass amounts of unmoving droids by their feet, kicking a few limbs out of the way. At last, Wrecker flopped down on a small pile of droids. He looked at each of them with a strong sense of anticipation.

"Final count," Crosshair began. He adjusted the scope on his rifle for long range. He smirked to himself at the mere thought of winning the contest. "Thirty-three."

"Thirty-three," Wrecker repeated calmly. He nodded his head understandingly. "That's not bad for the squad's resident sniper."

Upon hearing this, Crosshair glanced up at him with eyebrows furrowed in slight confusion. He halted his movements, studying the way his brother looked so pleased with himself.

"I, myself am sitting on thirty-four," Wrecker smirked to himself.

Before Wrecker could revel the fact that he outscored his younger brother in a battle, a single blaster bolt struck the droid he was sitting beneath right in between his legs. He glanced down at the sizzling strike.

"Thirty-four," Crosshair smirked to himself. He lowered his rifle once again.

"He was already dead," Wrecker argued.

"I saw him twitching," Crosshair suggested. He shrugged his shoulders at the notion. But Wrecker only became more enraged by this.

"He was twitching because I removed all of his limbs!" Wrecker shouted. Sure enough, the droid was still twitching slightly beneath him since the main operating system located in the head went undamaged in the fight.

"Are you two done yet?" Y/n wondered. She glanced between the two of them. "My final count was forty-eight."

"That's not fair," Wrecker groaned. "You had a head start."

"I always have a head start," Y/n recalled all of their missions together where she went charging head on to defend the others. "This wasn't any different than all the other times."

"Sergeant?" Crosshair questioned with a crocked eyebrow. The sergeant stood with his arms crossed against his chest; an amused look settling over his face.

"Fifty," Hunter announced.

The rest of them only groaned in utter annoyance. This was certainly not the first time the sergeant managed to outperform them and it wasn't going to be the last time. He claimed his victory silently, relishing the looks of disappointment on their faces.

"Looks like Wrecker and Crosshair will be cleaning the ship since they tied," Hunter told them.

"No," Wrecker went to argue. He rose to his feet. "Tech has to do it. He only got like four kills."

"Tech was a little occupied with other things. Like working on the door," Hunter told him. He glanced over his shoulder to find him still tinkering away at the data pad near the door.

"Then it should be Crosshair," Wrecker pointed to him. "That last one shouldn't count."

"Wrecker," Y/n called in a warning tone. "You both lost. Admit it."

"Fine," Wrecker huffed to himself. His shoulders slumping down at his sides. "I'll clean the ship," Wrecker added.

"And the refresher," Hunter recalled. She glanced at him through the corner of her eyes with nothing but admiration behind them.

"Yeah. Yeah. I'll do that too," Wrecker agreed to the terms.

Just then, Tech clicked the last button on his data pad to activate the door in front of him. His data pad glowed green, which meant the system had been overrun thanks to his expertise. The rest of them turned to direct their attention to the opening door, seeing the vast array of data forms in the control center.

Slowly, the Bad Batch came to approach the opening to the control center. Their eyes scanned over the various glowing white tubes attached to one central column in the room. Whatever they had come for, they were sure to find somewhere in there. Now they just needed their resident 'smart one' to locate the intel they'd come for.

"Nice work, Tech." Hunter spoke. "Let's locate the intel and get out of here as quick as we can."

All of the sudden, Y/n was able to feel a slight disturbance in the force. A dark wicked figure had graced their presence directly behind them. The sound of metallic claws for feet ground against the floor in approach. The presence was an all-too familiar one to go unnoticed or unrecognized.

The Jedi General had encountered this imposing figure one other time in her life, which was when he brutally murdered her master in combat. Ever since then, Y/n had grown to fear him and never wanted to face him. But now here he was standing behind them and blocking their only exit.

His cybernetic enhancements gave him exceptional strength, speed and reflexes to outmaneuver force-users. He wielded four lightsabers (one for each mechanical arm) and often overwhelmed the jedi with them. His most intimidating feature was his height alone, standing at nearly seven feet tall and towering over most of his encounters.

"General Y/n," the mysterious voice announced from behind them.

The other members of the squad quickly spun around on the heels of their feet, raising their blasters directly towards the menacing figure on the other end of the hallway. They moved to stand in front of their own general in hopes of protecting her.

"It's been a long time since our last encounter."

Now, coming to the realization that she could no longer run from her past, Y/n found herself turning around to face her demons. Her eyes landed on the familiar figure who had slaughtered her master, feeling her heart drop into the pit of her stomach.

It was almost like he could sense her fear of him despite not being a force sensitive being. He cackled to himself, which was something else that still haunted her too. She could still hear the way he laughed over her master's dead body. She went to retrieve her lightsabers from her belt, feeling the strong sense of anger overtaking her senses.

Because today would be the day she took down General Grievous.

#the bad batch #star wars #crosshair #echo #tech #wrecker #tbb #tbb hunter x fem!reader jedi #tbb hunter fluff #tbb hunter angst #tbb hunter x you #tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter #tbb crosshair #tbb tech #tbb wrecker #tbb echo #tbb hunter oneshot #tbb hunter imagine

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kaminokatie · 10 months

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First Kiss || The Bad Batch

Synopsis - Your first kiss with the members of The Bad Batch.

Warnings - SFW.

Word Count - 1.5k.

[Caffeinate Me]

HUNTER had saved your skin yet again. It was becoming a regular thing now, Hunter saving you from yourself. So-much-so that if you had made up a tally of all the times Hunter had saved you, you’d definitely be in double digits. You sighed a sigh of relief and turned around to thank him, only to be met with his lips on yours. You ‘hmphed’ into the kiss as you were taken by surprise, only for Hunter to press his lips further into you, deepening the kiss. When Hunter showed no signs of pulling away from you, you relaxed into his body and your eyes fluttered closed. The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, kissing with pure need, almost as if your lives depended on it. When he pulled away, Hunter grinned at you and gave you a sly wink forcing your face to heat up. “What was that for?” You asked, smiling widely.

“Just think of it as an incentive to stop you from almost dying on me all the time,” Hunter replied as he moved his body away from yours and turned his attention back to the mission at hand. “There’s more where that came from if you stay alive.”

“Sir, yes sir,” you saluted, watching as he walked away with a dumb smile on your face.

CROSSHAIR sat in the corner of his barracks on Kamino as Omega and the other members of The Batch came up with an escape plan. He placed his head in his hands as he tried to process the situation. The newly formed Galactic Empire had left you all to die on Kamino as they blew the place to smithereens, after all he’d done for the Empire so far and this is how they repay him? You excused yourself from The Batch and sat down next to Crosshair in the corner, your eyes heavy with sadness. “If we don’t make it out of this, I want you to know that despite everything, I still love you,” you whispered, without looking at him. Crosshair was taken back by your statement and looked at you with confusion, his heart fluttering in his chest. He had tried to kill you and you were saying that you loved him? He couldn’t quite process what was going on as you scooted up to sit next to him, your knees touching. Throwing caution to the wind, you quickly cupped his face in your hands and kissed him softly, closing your eyes as you melted into his lips. For a few seconds, it was nice to pretend like your life wasn’t in danger and that Crosshair wasn’t the bad guy. He thought for a moment before kissing you back, his lips moving in tandem with your own easily as his hands went to rest on your hips. When you pulled away, you stared into Crosshair's eyes hoping that you had gotten through to him with your kiss.

“That was nice,” he mumbled softly, his gaze dropping down from your eyes to your lips. You nodded in response before standing up and making your way back over to The Batch to talk about an escape plan. Crosshair was even more conflicted now: does he continue being a good soldier and follow orders, or does he leave the Empire to be with you?

TECH watched as you fumbled around the cockpit, unsure of what to do. You had never been techy and weren’t very good at helping repair the ship so you often just pottered around. You weren’t exactly sure what you brought to The Batch sometimes and it often left you feeling rather insecure. “Y/N, just leave the repairs to Echo and I,” Tech huffed. “Things will go a lot smoother if you don’t mess around.”

“I’m sorry Tech,” you mumbled. You sat down in the pilot's seat and looked on as Tech continued the repairs needed. You were fascinated by his curious mind and the way he worked, you couldn’t deny that.

“Y/N?” Tech asked. “Are you okay? You’re staring at me. Is something wrong?” You snapped back into reality at Tech’s voice and blushed before looking away, mumbling a ‘sorry’ under your breath.

Tech stopped his repairs, eyes narrowing on you as he focused his attention to your bouncing leg. He walked over to you and held out his hand for you to take, which reluctantly you did. You were pulled to your feet and flushed dangerously close to Tech’s body. You looked deep into his eyes as he searched yours for any signs of resistance. When you didn’t move away from him, Tech took it upon himself to slowly and shakily lean in and graze his lips softly against yours. His eyes remained open as he watched the emotions flash across your face. When you closed your eyes and leaned into the kiss, Tech did the same, finally feeling comfortable. When you pulled away from Tech’s lips, you breathed heavily out of embarrassment. “What was that for?” You asked dreamily.

“You looked distracted. I was simply just trying to help you,” Tech cleared his throat and watched as you nodded before turning his attention back to the repairs at hand. You stood still, as if frozen, for a few seconds with your fingers trailing across your lips. He was right, you were distracted, but now you were even more distracted than before.

ECHO had been insecure ever since his rescue from Skako Minor. He often found himself thinking about what his life would have been like had he not been a Separatist project, and sometimes he even found himself wishing he had died at the Citadel. Echo found himself unable to sleep and quietly got up and made his way into the cockpit, hoping to keep himself busy with something to do on the ship. He had been so engrossed in what he was doing, he hadn’t heard your tiny footsteps following him. “Echo, are you okay?” You asked, sleepily rubbing your eyes.

Echo turned to look at you, his face white. He looked as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t. When he realised it was just you, he nodded and smiled softly. “I just can’t sleep,” he replied. “What are you doing up?” He asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Heard you get up,” you mumbled. “Wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine,” he whispered back. You found yourself walking up to him and wrapping your arms around his waist, something you did regularly when the two of you were alone. Echo felt his heart hammer against his chest and you turned him around to face you. Without thinking, Echo leaned into your touch and sighed happily. Whenever you were around, he always felt complete. “You should go back to sleep.”

“Not without you,” you smiled up at him. Echo was about to protest but you pressed your lips to his softly, silencing him. His eyes went wide when he realised your lips were on his, but he was quick to relax as your lips began to move against his own. His lips, like his body, were cold to the touch, but you were quick to warm them up. Your tongue ran along his bottom lip and Echo felt his face set on fire. When you finally pulled away, you gave Echo a grin and pecked his lips once more. “Let’s get some sleep, eh?”

WRECKER watched as you cleaned the ship. You weren’t much useful on missions so you made yourself useful back on the ship by doing ‘housework’. Wrecker admired you as you continued your cleaning spree, watching the way your eyes narrowed and your lips pursed as you grumbled about the dust around you. “I literally cleaned this space two days ago!” You cried loudly, scrunching your nose up. Wrecker chuckled at your reaction and smiled at your cuteness. When you had finished dusting, you turned to Wrecker to ask for some assistance when you slipped over something on the floor and landed flat on his lap. You looked up at him with wide eyes, absolutely mortified. “Wrecker, I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t be,” Wrecker laughed loudly, his hands resting on your hips.

Everything, from that moment, happened in slow motion. You found yourself staring into his eyes before slowly closing the gap between your faces. You weren’t sure what had come over you, but you kissed Wrecker slowly, earning a groan from the giant clone. He immediately kissed you back passionately as your lips met, something he had been dying to do for weeks now. You sat up on his lap pushing your lips further against his, desperate for more. Wrecker chuckled into your lips before he pulled away leaving you completely breathless. With his hands still planted firmly on your hips, Wrecker helped you stand up. “T-Thank you,” you whispered softly, biting your bottom lip.

“Don’t mention it,” Wrecker smiled at you. You sighed before bending down to pick up what you had fallen over: Lula. Wrecker’s eyes widened when he saw his stuffed toy in your hand and grinned. “My Lula!”

You chuckled and passed Lula to Wrecker with a soft smile on your lips. Wrecker thanked you with another quick kiss before pulling away and walking to his bunk, leaving you standing there dumbfounded. Your fingers traced your lips as you watched Wrecker walk away cuddling Lula and you felt your heart flutter. You hoped you’d get another opportunity to kiss him again.

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