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arctrooper69 · 2 months

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As Iron Sharpens Iron

"As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another." Proverbs 27:17

Beta-read by @dragonrider9905

Chapter 2:

Previous // Next

Warnings: Jealousy, canon violence.

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Why does she have to come along? You thought bitterly as the ship rattled through the atmosphere.

It was one thing for Phee to come along, but her sister was another story altogether. You had no problem with Phee. She’d proven herself to be extremely helpful when things went south; she was fun and easy to get along with.

Tara, on the other hand, though you’d only worked a job with her twice, seemed to be the opposite. She was nice enough and shared her older sister’s enthusiasm for adventure, but that was where the similarities ended. If Phee was fire, Tara was ice. The others seemed to tolerate her, and you had to admit she was good at her job. Omega enjoyed her stories as much as she did Phee's and for some reason that irked you as well.

She used to come to Hunter for everything.

Hunter and me, you thought bitterly. Lately it was all Tara and Phee who occupied her attentions.

Tara seemed to have a way with people. She’d talk someone up, laugh, and bat her eyelashes, then suddenly the datastick - and sometimes their wallet - would find itself tucked away neatly in her pocket or wherever else she could hide it. Phee spoke highly of her. According to Phee, her sister could draw the attention of a target and sweet talk them into giving her information just as easily as she could disappear entirely in a crowded market - stolen information taken without a hitch. You’d seen the former on the last mission. In just a matter of hours, a few drinks and conversation combined with a pretty dress and tasteful jewelry was all it took for the officer to let slip the location of Cid’s coveted artifact. Even Tech had seemed impressed.

“Good work,” Hunter had said to her, as she made her way back to the ship. His deep, husky voice stirred something inside you even though his words were not directed to you. You’d seen how she’d brushed up against Hunter as she passed him by on the way into the ship. Though Hunter had stepped aside and seemed to pay her no mind, you didn’t trust her as far as you could throw her.

And with how thin she is, I could probably throw her pretty far, you thought with a smirk that quickly disappeared as you looked up.

Hunter currently stood behind her in the cockpit, hand gripping the back of her chair. Her hair brushed across his fingers as he peered over her shoulder at the datapad in her lap.

The ship shuttered and dropped in altitude, ripping you from the jealous thoughts.

Tech, grappling with the failing controls, glanced over at them saying something you couldn’t quite hear over the turbulence.

Another jolt sent you stumbling into a chair, pulling you roughly back to the situation at hand. Hunter grunted at something she said and turned back to the others,

“Strap in,” he commanded, “We’re in for a rough landing.”

You could feel his eyes burning through the back of your head as you fumbled the straps, clipping yourself into place. Undoubtedly he could sense your discomfort, though you doubted he knew the true cause.

He strapped himself into the seat beside you, placing a hand on your knee.

“Relax,” he whispered, “It’s nothing we haven’t done before.”

You froze, staring at his hand on your knee, that strange but familiar warmth burned fiercely through your chest.

He snatched his hand away as though he’d been burned and you found your eyes following the motion as he placed it awkwardly in his lap. He shifted almost immediately to the other seat beside him. Towards her.

The sense of warmth you’d felt evaporated as quickly as it came, replaced with an ache that ran through your body like an icy chill and you shivered.

“The storm is interfering with the navigation systems,” Tech called out, “I am going to attempt a manual landing.”

“Oh boy…” Wrecker’s nervous grip tightened on the shoulder straps that buckled and strained to keep him in place, his fingers finding the well-worn grooves in the metal handle. “We’re gonna crash! We’re gonna crash! We’re gonna crash and die!” he shouted mostly to himself.

You were never sure if he was actually truly terrified or if it was just an involuntary reaction to the adrenaline rush that came with the threat of death.

Probably a bit of both. You found yourself grinning at him, feeling the rush through your own chest - a strange mixture of terror and euphoria that kept you on your toes, ready for anything.

A sharp drop threw you backwards into the seat sending a throbbing ache through your skull, thankfully muted by the protective restraints.

“Ow! Kriff!” Wrecker shouted as his head bounced off the wall, his seat too small to adequately protect his large frame. A loud clatter sounded through the ship, adding to the chaotic clamor of the storm outside.

“No!” cried Tara as the datapad flew from her grasp, sliding across the floor. She reached for her seatbelt.

“Leave it!” Hunter snapped, his hand immediately sliding down to his own safety latch.

Tara shook her head, “We need that information!” She glared over at the fallen datapad with an unyielding determination as she unlatched her straps and staggered to her feet.

“Don’t! It’s not worth anything to us if you’re dead!” shouted Phee as she too reached for her seatbelt, prepared to retrieve her sister. Tara stumbled against the wall as the ship shuttered, sending the datapad further away. She growled in frustration.

“Everybody stay where you are!” Echo’s voice carried over the cacophony of mechanical failure and falling debris, projecting an air of gravity perfected only by an ARC trooper’s experienced command. Phee removed her hand reluctantly from the latch, teeth on edge as she watched her sister stumble to her knees, fingers barely brushing the edge of the datapad before it violently slid away once more. Tara dove after it.

“Almost got it!”

“Tara look out!” Omega shrieked as Gonky came screaming down the short passageway. In a flash, Hunter was out of his seat, tackling Tara to the ground, curling protectively over her as Gonky smashed into the bulkhead where she had been leaning only seconds before.

The ship spun again and Hunter braced himself against a console, grabbing hold of Tara’s arm, dragging her upwards. The datapad slid over and she reached down, snagging it quickly.

“Got it!” She shouted triumphantly, apparently unphased by the fact that she was nearly killed.

Hunter grabbed the datapad from her hand and tossed it to you with a practiced ease as he turned and latched Tara back into her seat.

You gripped the device tightly, watching intently as anger sparked in Hunter’s eyes.

“Don’t ever do that again!” He sank back into his seat and you averted your gaze, staring blankly towards the cockpit where Tech was slowly regaining control of the ship.

“We’re coming in too fast, Tech!” Hunter warned.

“Then I suggest you brace yourselves!” Tech snapped back, brow furrowed in concentration as he pulled the controls with all his might.

“Pull up! Pull up!” shouted Wrecker.

“I. Am. Trying!” Tech grit his teeth.

With one last tug on the yoke, the ship collided with the ground in a wet clatter of fallen tree branches and mud, skidding forward before coming to a roaring halt, just barely missing the edge of a sheer cliff.

Wrecker let out a sigh of relief as he got to his feet, lifting Omega to the ground. You followed Echo as he lowered the ramp and jogged out into the muddy terrain to survey the damage.

He whistled, hand resting on his hip while his scomp arm leaned against the side of the ship. He chuckled, shaking his head as he eyed the mere inches of ground between the end of the ship and the edge of the cliff.

“Cutting it close this time, Tech.”

Hunter grinned, clapping him on the shoulder, “He always does.”

Tech followed him down the ramp, adjusting his goggles, “We survived, did we not?”

“Barely,” muttered Wrecker as he surveyed the cliff and backed up several feet causing Omega to laugh.

“See? I told you we’d be fine, Wrecker.”

Phee’s eyebrows shot up as she joined them on the edge. “Woah! I knew you were good, Brown-Eyes, but this is somethin’ else. Nice landing!”

Tech looked up at her, smiling slightly before turning to glare at his brothers. “At least someone here appreciates the amount of precision and skill it takes to achieve a landing like this.”

Tara was the last off the ship. You handed her the datapad and she cleared her throat,

“Alright, guys. We’ve got a bit of a ways to go, so we should get moving.”

Echo nodded in agreement as Wrecker picked up his pack.

You blinked, not making any move to grab your own pack. Who died and made you squad leader?

Her knack for seizing control of the situation irked you and you found yourself almost unconsciously spinning around to face her.

“Actually, it’s Hunter who gives the orders here, not you.” The words were out before you could even think to stop them. Tara looked surprised. Wrecker froze, pack hanging limply from one shoulder, eyes moving between you, Tara and the rest of the squad. Echo raised an eyebrow. The awkward pause lasted only milliseconds, but to you it felt like an eternity before Hunter stepped in with a sigh, raising a disarming hand. Something indiscernible flashed through his eyes as he looked at you briefly before taking control of the situation.

“Tara’s right…”

The rest of his words were lost to you as a blazing humiliation burned through your chest, mixing strangely with that cold feeling you’d had before.

He took her side. Though you knew Tara was right, it still hurt. No matter how hard you tried to reason with yourself, no amount of logic could relieve the feeling of betrayal. AND I just made a huge fool of myself. Great job….

Wrecker elbowed you, shaking you from your thoughts. Your eyes snapped up and Hunter looked at you expectantly.

“Did you hear anything I just said?”

Kriff. “Y-Yeah!” you stuttered.

He didn’t look convinced but he continued on, addressing the whole team. “Alright then. Let’s get moving.”

Slinging your pack over your shoulder, you began to follow but a nudge from Echo stopped you. He shook his head, looking you over with evident concern written on his face.

“Did you not hear Hunter? You’re with Tech and I. We’ve got to get the ship repaired and primed for a quick takeoff.”

“Right,” you could feel your face warm with embarrassment once more, “Yeah. Guess we should get working then.”

“Yeah.”

Your hands reached for tools, fingers removing and replacing wires, working in a numbing mindlessness on repairs you’d done a thousand times over.

Of course Hunter took her side, idiot! You scolded yourself. She was right. You were wrong.

Tara had her mind on the mission. You had your mind somewhere else, overthinking stupid, impossible scenarios. And yet, you found yourself thinking back to the chaos over and over again - seeing Hunter throw himself protectively over Tara, seeing Hunter’s hand on her arm, hearing his words to her in that deep, authoritative tone: “Don’t ever do that again!”

They were the same words he’d spoken to you just two days ago. The same day you’d seen Hunter in the closet with Tara pressed up against him. The worst part was that you weren’t even sure they were aware that you saw.

So now everyone thinks I’m just crazy. How could I have misread everything so badly!? Was I just seeing what I wanted to see when he had me in his arms?

Though you could’ve sworn that the look in his eyes held something special, it was obvious, now more than ever, that you had clearly misjudged.

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vodika-vibes · 3 months

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May I please get a Tech x Jedi!Reader with a glimpse before and after Order 66. Techs POV where after figuring out that the jedi are being hunted becomes worried. Im thinking White Clover and Pansy and maybe angst/fluff? :>

ps i love your work and i cant wait to read anything you make, youre amazing :3

A Promise Made

Summary: You and Tech, before Order 66 and after.

Pairing: TBB Tech x F!Reader

Word Count: 2983

Warning: Angst, Reader survived Order 66 and has totally understandable trauma regarding that

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: I'm still not sure if I'm writing Tech well, but I haven't got any complaints.

“Is there a reason you are laying on me?” Tech asks as he looks down at the Jedi sprawled across his lap, her gaze locked on the datapad in her hand.

“I don’t get to spend nearly enough time with you, and this is the best way to keep you from accidentally ignoring me.” She replies lightly, “Why? Are you uncomfortable?”

“No. I am just concerned that you might get hurt.” Tech answers easily.

“So be careful and you won’t hurt me.”

He rolls his eyes expressively, though because she’s not looking at him, she doesn’t notice. “What are you working on, cyare?”

“Master Windu asked me to reverse engineer a Seppie weapon, and I’m starting to think that this weapon was designed by an actual child.” She says with a sigh as she drops her datapad and presses her forehead against his thigh.

Tech smiles at the back of her head, “Would you like me to take a look?”

At that she laughs and rolls over so that her head is resting on his lap and she’s looking up at him, “I know you have better things to do, Tech.”

He sets his own project to the side, and gently brushes her hair out of her face, “I do not mind putting it aside to help you.”

She reaches up and presses her hands against his, lightly rubbing her cheek against his gloved hand. “That’s because you’re amazing.” She praises, “But it’s okay, Tech. I can figure it out. I always do.”

Tech smiles at her adoringly.

When he was a cadet on Kamino, he believed that this kind of happiness was beyond him. He did not understand why his brothers, including his batchmates, were so laser focused on finding someone to spend their time with. He thought that it was little more than a distraction.

That was until he met her.

She had been brought to Kamino at the request of General Ti, and the first time Tech saw her, he didn’t think she was a Jedi. He thought she was a natborn who had been tasked with maintenance of the various vehicles stored on Kamino.

She was clever and quick witted, and while his twin claimed that she wasn’t going to win any beauty pageants, on account of the fact that she tended to have oil on her face and staining her hands, and she didn’t seem to care about things like appearance, Tech thought that she was stunning.

They developed a quick friendship, bonding over their mutual love of technology.

Tech honestly had no idea that she was a Jedi at all, not until he saw her dressed up in Jedi robes rather than her normal grease covered jumpsuit, and talking to General Ti like it was her right.

The conversation that happened after that isn’t one that Tech is proud of. He had been hurt that she hid such an important part of her from him, and he lashed out. She was offended that he thought that she was hiding it, claiming that she never hid anything from anyone, and that it wasn’t her fault that he didn’t know that she was a jedi.

The disagreement turned into a full blown argument, and Tech didn’t talk to her for over two months. It took Hunter and Crosshair teaming up to make him see that he was being bull-headed and stubborn, and it was the encouragement of Wrecker that forced him to go to her and apologize.

At the time, he had been worried that she was going to hold a grudge, but she didn’t. Instead she just smiled and laughed, and told him that she forgave him, and then she showed him what she was working on.

Soon after that, Tech realized that he was thinking about her all the time. When he was in training, when he was reading, even when he was about to go to sleep; her smile, the way her eyes crinkle when she laughs, the way she pushes her hand through her hair when she’s contemplating something complicated-

He found himself looking forward to spending time with her, even if they’re just working in the same room.

It was Crosshair who pointed out the obvious, with a roll of his eyes as he flipped through a magazine. “You’re obviously in love with her, dumbass.” He drawled without looking up from the glossy pages of the blaster magazine that he got from somewhere, “It’s a perfect match, you’re both annoying little shits.”

Tech wanted to argue with him, partly because he feels the urge to argue with his twin about everything, but he found the words turning to ash on his tongue. Because, annoyingly, he was right.

Tech was in love.

He became awkward and nervous around her, babbling about random things that he learned, and through it all, she watched him with a small smile, and often asked questions about his latest hyperfixation.

And then, late one night, she kissed him.

A gentle press of her lips against his. It was innocent and chaste, and yet it sent fire through his veins. She didn’t say anything after the kiss, she just watched him and waited, seeming to understand that Tech would need a moment to process.

And then he kissed her, and suddenly he understood exactly why his brothers desire this so much.

“Tech?” He snaps back to the present at the worried call of his name, and he glances down at her face, “There you are. You were lightyears away.” She teases.

“I was thinking about you.”

“Oh? Nice things, I hope.”

He laughs, “I always think about you, cyare. You occupy my thoughts at all times.”

“Well, that sounds annoying.”

“Not at all,” Tech lightly guides her until she’s sitting up and he presses a series of light kisses to her cheek and across her jaw, “I find that it is the most enjoyable part of my day.”

“Well, you’re easy to please, aren’t you?” She teases as she leans into his affection.

“My brothers tell me that I am very hard to please, actually.”

“Well, they’re not me.” She turns her head and kisses him quickly, “So you know, you’re constantly in my thoughts too.”

Tech laughs softly and presses a series of light kisses across her face, “I am glad.”

She grins at him, and shifts to sit on his lap, her hands coming up to cup his face, “Tech, I…” She pauses, and her gaze flickers to the side, “I want you to know that I have to return to Coruscant for a couple of weeks. I would like it if you commed me?”

Tech has a feeling that that’s not what she was going to say, but he lets it go, “Of course I will. So much that you will get tired of me.”

She laughs, “I don’t think that’s possible.”

“You never know,” Tech kisses her one more time, “When do you leave?”

“Two days.”

“Well then, we had better spend that time together.”

It has been three weeks and four days since the day that the Clones turned on the Jedi. And somehow, you’re still alive. Which, in and of itself, is a damned miracle.

You press your hand over your side, a slow hiss of pain escaping your lips as you move the wrong way and the hole in your side twinges painfully.

When the clones marched on the workshop, you had been in the back, working on one of the protocol droids. You managed to escape while the older jedi tried to fend off the soldiers, but you still took a blaster bolt to the side.

Not to mention, you’re still reeling from the loss of your friends, your family.

You push the pain into the force, and take a moment to tighten the bandages around your side, before you continue your trek. It’s not safe for you anywhere.

And as much as you want to comm Tech and beg him to come and help you…you know that you better not. Tech is a clone after all. And if he pulled a blaster on you, you’d probably just let him kill you, honestly.

No. It’s safer this way.

Though, the galaxy is a much lonelier place now.

Time passes quickly, when you’re on the run. And before you know it, 6 months have passed.

You’re…surviving as best you can, all things considered. You managed to find a medic who treated your blaster wound in exchange for some simple maintenance work, and you managed to earn employment on a cargo ship.

Though, really, you mostly just bounce from ship to ship, from planet to planet, as much as you can. You don’t stay in the same place for longer than a few weeks, fearing that the empire will find you.

You take comfort from the memory of your family, and from Tech. You cling to those memories, as they’re the only thing that keep you going. And sometimes, at night, you allow your mind to linger on Tech, on what could have been.

It’s easier now, though.

After six months, you no longer feel like the Empire is breathing down your neck, and for all you know, you’ve been reported dead. You don’t dare to look, fearing that if you look and you weren’t, then the Empire will start looking for you.

It doesn’t make any sense, you know that, but it’s an anxiety that you can’t seem to shake.

“Hey, Kid!” You jump as the ship captain, your current employer, claps your shoulder with a heavy hand, “Me an’ the boys are going to the bar. Wanna join us?”

“Ah…no thank you. Trying to stay sober,” You say with an easy smile, “You guys have fun.”

“Right, sorry kid. I forgot. You keep up that sobrarity! We’re rooting for you.”

You smile at him, feeling momentarily guilty. Your story, the one that you’ve been using since the purge, is that you’re a recovering alcoholic, and that’s why you want to work on ships, to avoid temptation.

It’s not true. But it keeps people from hounding you to go drinking with them. And, more than one of the people you’ve worked with over the past few months have bemoaned your “parents” for not helping you with your addictions.

It’s almost like having a family again.

Almost.

You step off the cramped ship into the cool evening air, wanting to stretch your legs for a bit, when you hear a familiar voice and feel a familiar presence in the force.

“Hey, that person might know!” You’d recognize Wrecker’s force presence even if you were doped up on force suppressors, and the child standing next to him has the same overall feel as all of the chones.

Your blood runs cold. Wrecker will recognize you. How could he not?

He approaches you, and your mind goes blank. Your fingers twitch towards your lightsaber, hidden in your sleeve. You don’t want to hurt Wrecker. But you will if you have to.

“Excuse me, miss?” The child stops in front of you, and you look down at her. Blonde hair, wide brown eyes…she’s a clone, no doubt about it. “Me and my brother are looking for a specific shop-”

“I…I’m sorry, I’ve never been here before.” You keep your voice low, in the hopes that Wrecker won’t hear you. But you know there’s not a chance of it, not with how close he is to you.

Surprise flashes across his face, followed by joy, “It’s you! Tech has been worried sick! We all have-” He takes a step towards you, and you scramble backwards, grabbing your saber and lighting it with the comforting snap.

“Stop! Just…just stop.” You sputter, “I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if I have to.”

Wrecker stops, “Right. Okay.” He pulls Omega back, “No one’s going to hurt you.”

“Sure.”

Wrecker slowly sends a message to his brothers, and then holds his hands out, showing that he’s unarmed.

Tech, Hunter, and Echo run up only moments later, and Hunter has to grab Tech from running over to you.

“It is just us, cyare.” Tech says, pulling himself away from Hunter, “We are not going to hurt you.”

Your lightsaber is crossed across your body defensively, and slowly you reach out to the force, looking for the, arguably, most dangerous member of the CF99 at the moment. “Where’s Crosshair?” You ask.

“He is…not here.” Tech says quietly.

“You expect me to believe that your own twin isn’t here, I’m not that dumb, Tech.”

“He…” Tech falters, “Listen, his chip activated, ours didn’t. So when we defected, he didn’t.”

“What chips? What are you talking about?” You demand, and their faces fall.

“You…don’t know.” Hunter says quietly, “Stars, you must have thought we turned on you for no reason-”

“It would be nice to know what crime my people committed to deserve to be slaughtered down to the smallest baby, yes.” You bite out.

“It wasn’t…there…” Echo trails off and he takes a deep breath, “Tech, you need to talk to her. Just, tell her the truth. All of it. She’s a jedi, she’ll know if you’re lying.”

Tech nods, and he steps in front of his brothers, his gaze locked on you, “I am going to tell you everything that I know,” He says quietly, and then he starts talking.

And slowly, as he explains, you lower your saber and then turn it off. And by the time Tech finishes his story, you’re sitting on a small crate with your face in your hands. “My people were slaughtered by your brothers because Palpatine stole their free will from them?”

“Yes.”

Both of your hands fist in your hair, “...’m sorry for drawing my saber on you.”

Tension drains from the men standing across from you, and the next thing you know, Tech’s hands are on your shoulders, “It is okay. You had every right to be concerned.” He kneels in front of you, “Are you injured?”

“I was shot at the temple, but that was months ago.” You say quietly.

“And…you are alright?”

“No.” You whisper, “It’s a very lonely galaxy, Tech.”

Tech raises himself enough to press a kiss to your forehead, “You do not have to be alone. You can travel with us. Right, Hunter?”

“Of course.” Hunter replies immediately.

“See.”

“That’s kind of you, but I know your ship isn’t that big.”

“With the both of us, we can retrofit.” Tech offers, “We can make room for all of us.” He takes your hands in his, “Please do not leave.”

“You won’t be safe if I travel with you. I’m a Jedi.”

“We are not safe anyway.” Tech points out, “Please, cyare? I promise that we will be safer together.”

You sigh, and very gently squeeze his hands, “Yeah, okay. The crew that I’m a part of now won’t be surprised if I decide to leave without warning.”

“Truely?”

“I have something of a reputation.” You reply dryly.

“...it has been 6 months.” You shrug, and allow Tech to tug you to your feet, before he wraps you in a tight hug. “I feared you were dead.”

“I’m sorry.”

Tech’s gaze lingers on her as she dozes in his bunk, his fingers are tangled in her hair as he silently offers her comfort.

She doesn’t look healthy.

She’s too thin, her clothes hang off of her, and the circles under her eyes are dark enough that it looks like she has bruises around her eyes. She hasn’t been eating properly, obviously, and Tech wonders if it’s because of grief or fear.

And there’s no way he’s ever going to forget the look in her eyes when she saw them again. Dread, fear, terror-

He never wanted her to look at him like that again.

Tech smooths his hand down her spine, and carefully adjusts the blanket so it’s tucked under her chin.

He knew the moment that the regs turned on General Billaba, that his cyare was in danger. The dread had been like a lead weight in his stomach. And while he would have spoken to Crosshair about it, he could tell that there was something wrong with his twin.

Not to mention, Crosshair had never been her biggest fan in the first place.

So he bit his tongue, and kept an eye on the list of deceased Jedi, and he hoped.

It wasn’t very logical.

But the longer he didn’t see her name, the longer he had hope that she was still alive.

She shifts in his bed, rolling over to press her face against his thigh, and Tech presses his hand against the back of her head. The Marauder really isn’t big enough to add another adult, so she’s going to have to share with him for the time being.

Which isn’t half as much of a problem as he’s making it out to be, nothing would make him happier than waking up with her in his arms, but the last thing he wants is for her to forget where she is and freak out.

Luckily, the dread he felt when he heard about the jedi being hunted has faded into something much easier to handle, now he just has the sinking dread of having to help her deal with the trauma of surviving a massacre.

Easy.

Tech glances down at his datapad, and settles back against his pillow as he starts to read on how to help people process trauma.

If he can’t get his cyare to a mind healer, then he’ll just have to become one himself.

Tech glances at her one more time as her fingers curl in the soft material of his pajama bottoms, and he smiles at her sleeping face. He gently brushes some hair out of her face, “I promise,” He whispers, “I am going to take care of you.”

#star wars #tbb #vodika-vibes follower celebration #tbb tech x reader #tech x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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clu-ven · 1 year

Text

A Curious Mind

summary: Hunter has always treated you slightly different and Omega is determined to find out why

word count: 2.1k

!reader goes by she/her pronouns!

The bright suns of Plurax make you wince, your arm instinctively coming up to shield your eyes. Shuffling out of the Marauder, you’re about to follow Echo down the steps when a hand suddenly appears in front of you.

“Oh!” you abruptly stop, almost colliding with it. Looking over to identify the owner of the hand, Hunter comes into view, an amused smile playing at his lips.

Already on the ground below, he stretches his gloved hand up to you, offering some support as you exit. You give him a grateful smile “Thanks Sarge”.

Slipping your hand into his, Hunter gives you a small, reassuring squeeze and you continue your descent down.

You’re not sure why you were so surprised by the action, after all, this isn’t a rare occurrence. In fact, it’s the opposite. Whether you have to jump a few feet from a ship or simply walk down a landing platform, Hunter always offers you his hand.

Every. Single. Time.

Once your feet reach the ground, he nods his head and reluctantly lets his hand fall from yours. His grip on his helmet, placed neatly underneath his other arm tightens for a moment as he wonders if he should have said more to you.

Oblivious to Hunter’s internal worries, you walk over to the rest of the batch and listen to Tech’s recap of the plan.

Turning back to the ship, Hunter taps the command panel and watches as the Marauder begins to close. Sensing eyes on him, he glances over his shoulder to the rest of the batch, only to realise none of them are paying much attention to him.

Casting his gaze downwards, his eyes meet Omega’s, who peers up at him curiously.

“Why do you always do that?” she asks.

“So we won’t get raided,” he shrugs as if the answer is obvious “or worse, if someone sees a ship like this unlocked, they’ll steal it and get a few thousands credits for it, especially with the amount of upgrades it has”.

“What? No, not that” Omega rolls her eyes, returning Hunter’s ‘that should be obvious’ tone.

When Omega says your name, Hunter’s eyes go wide, his posture becoming stiff as she elaborates “You always help her off the ship… why?”. His eyes flick over to you as Omega talks, hoping you didn’t hear her say your name.

Thankfully you’re too busy listening to Tech, who’s explaining your part of the mission to you.

“Just to be nice, I guess” he mumbles his response, trying to keep his voice low.

“But you don’t do it for Wrecker or Tech or Echo… hey, you don’t do that for me either!” she exclaims, a tinge of annoyance in her voice.

Hunter shakes his head, his mind turning to mush as he tries to think of an easy explanation “Well, that’s because you don’t need help getting off the ship”.

It’s like he can see the cogs turning in Omega’s head, already cringing at his answer as she questions “... but she needs help? She can’t get off the ship if you don’t hold her hand?”.

Oh Kriff.

“Well, no, that’s not what I meant-” he starts but Omega quickly talks over him. “Is she not good with balance? Is it like how Wrecker doesn’t like heights?”.

Before Hunter can form a response, Wrecker loudly interrupts them, the mere mention of his fear getting his full attention.

“Heights?!” Wrecker repeats, drawing everyone’s focus to Hunter and Omega. Throwing his head back, Wrecker lets out a whine “Oh please tell me this mission doesn’t involve heights”.

“Plurax is a relatively flat planet,” Tech interjects, his eyes still fixed on his datapad “and considering our main objective is to extract the bacta pods found in the small medical facility, I doubt heights will be involved”.

Wrecker lets out a sigh of relief, his shoulders deflating. “Phew, you almost got me that time, Hunter” he chuckles.

Hunter nods, hoping to quickly brush past this entire situation. “Right, well let’s get this over and done with” taking his helmet from underneath his arm, Hunter places it on his head.

“But what about my quest-” Omega starts but Hunter cuts her off, acutely aware that you as well as the others are still listening “Later, Omega. All that matters right now is the mission”. With a sigh, she nods her head.

***

After successfully retrieving the bacta pods, the Marauder is quiet… for once. The hum of the ship speeding through hyperspace fills the silence as everyone gets some much needed rest.

Peering out of her room, Omega holds on to Lula the tooka doll as she scans the bunks. Wrecker sleeps in one, his arm obscuring his face and thankfully muffling his snores. On the other bunk, Tech is fast asleep and judging by the pile of blankets on the upper bunk, you’re asleep up there.

Tip-toeing past, Echo comes into view. He’s seated at the table, head resting on his arm as he mumbles in his sleep. Continuing on her journey, Hunter is the last person for Omega to see, his seated form visible when she approaches the cockpit. Slowly, she nears him.

From the corner of his eye, Hunter notices Omega, subtly watching as she quietly walks forward. “You should be asleep” Hunter’s voice cuts through the silence, making Omega stop in her tracks.

She sighs, giving up her attempt to sneak “But I can’t, I’m not tired”. Hopping up on the seat beside him, Omega keeps Lula close to her, curling up on the chair.

Hunter doesn’t reply. He knows how hard it is to go from being on high alert on a mission to being told to get some rest, adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

He remembers the first few missions he ever went on and how hard it was to rest, his senses too overwhelmed to even comprehend the idea of sleep.

“You did it again, y’know” Omega says, pulling his attention back to her.

“What?” Hunter has a suspicious feeling he knows what she’s talking about but he hopes if he feigns some kind of ignorance then hopefully she’ll drop it.

“You helped her back onto the ship,” she explains, some sarcasm in her voice as she teases “when we were leaving Plurax… she must have really bad balance if you have to help her all the time”.

Head dipping down, Hunter’s hair obscures his face. “Omega,” he groans “she doesn't have balance problems, it’s just… look, it’s better if you let this go, ok?”.

“But why?” she drops her legs down, leaving them dangle freely.

“It’s… complicated”.

“How?” she presses, shrugging as she mumbles “I’m just curious”.

“Yeah, too curious,” Hunter says with an affectionate scoff and shake of his head.

Trying to simplify it, Omega begins listing out “Earlier you said that you do it to be nice but you only do it for her, nobody else! She doesn’t need you to do it since she doesn’t actually have any balance problems, hmmm and it’s pretty obvious you don’t like it when people point it out”. Hunter grimaces the more Omega goes on.

Thinking out loud, she furrows her brow “I wonder if she notices, I mean it’s pretty obvious so she must have by now…maybe I should ask her”.

“What? No!“ Hunter is quick to sit on the edge of his seat, facing Omega fully “You can’t do that, that’s a direct order”. Despite his pleading look, Omega simply raises an eyebrow, knowing she’s got him right where she wants him.

“Okay, I won’t ask her,” she complies before adding “but you have to tell me why!”.

Hunter sighs. A part of him is impressed, equally proud of her determination as well as cursing it. Sighing, he avoids her eye contact as he tries to explain.

“Well, since she’s not… uh, a clone… I just want to make sure… that, um… that she feels welcome” yes, Hunter is making this up as he goes. It’s true, of course but not his main reason.

Omega is not convinced, her face the epitome of disappointment. Not giving in, she replies “Yeah, that’s nice and all, Hunter but I don’t think that’s why”.

Hunter’s body deflates, putting his face in his hands. Even if he wants to, he doesn’t think he can get the words out. This is something he’s never had to verbalise before nor is it something he’s had to admit to anybody.

With his face still covered, he hears Omega’s voice “Can I tell you my theory?”.

He doesn’t reply and yet Omega continues “I think you like her”. Hunter can hear her smile in her tone, removing his hands to confirm his suspicions.

Watching for his reaction, Omega beams up at him. “And I mean like like her” she adds with the wiggle of her eyebrows.

Hunter keeps his face still, unsure how to react.

“I mean, it’s not a bad thing if you do,” she shrugs, offering some reassurance “I think it’s kinda cute, especially since she like likes you too”.

He freezes.

What?

Judging by the stunned look on Hunter’s face, Omega explains “I overheard her saying it to Echo, she said something about her heart racing whenever you’re around and being paranoid over it. I didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing at first but every time you do something nice for her, she gets all lovey-dovey so I think it’s a good thing”.

“Lovey-dovey?” Hunter scrunches up his face, not quite believing what his sister is saying.

“Yeah, like this” clutching her hands together, Omega tries her best to bat her eyelashes as she lets out a comically loud sigh before giving Hunter a goofy smile.

With a grin tugging at his lips, he dismisses “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her do that before”.

“That’s because you always look away!” she exclaims “ooh, I’ll have to add that to the list; you’re really bad at keeping eye contact with her”.

He rolls his eyes but the idea that maybe, just maybe you like him too distracts Hunter from properly deflecting Omega’s addition to her list. Even the idea of their being some hope that you feel the same way is enough to send Hunter’s head spinning.

Yawning, Omega hops down from her seat “I’m just saying, it would be a shame if you both like like each other but never tell one another”.

Hunter stays quiet, though he knows she’s right. “Anyways, I’ll try to get some sleep, night Hunter” giving him one last smile, Omega leaves him alone with his thoughts.

Taking a deep breath, Hunter leans back in his seat, resting one of his legs by the command panel as he looks out at the whirling blue lights of hyperspace. Hunter closes his eyes, trying to centre himself. Only you could daze him as much as this and make it feel so damn exciting.

Were the signs that you liked him back always there? For a guy with heightened senses, he presumed he would have picked up on it… but Omega is right, he doesn’t exactly hold eye contact with you. And whenever he hears the loud beating of a heart when you’re near, he hurriedly assumes it’s his own.

Speaking of his senses, he can tell Omega is still there, hovering by the doorway. He waits a few seconds, giving her the time to speak but she doesn’t.

Hunter knows where this is going, presuming she’ll either ask him to carry her back to bed or try to convince him to get her a snack. He takes his time opening his eyes again, turning his upper body to look at her.

Hunter can feel his stomach drop. His body automatically freezing as if you won’t see him if he doesn’t move.

You give him an equally bewildered look, a twist of anxiety in your gut. “Can we talk?” you ask, the words coming out quieter than expected.

Hunter has one main question on his mind: how much have you heard? And yet he doesn’t ask that question, instead blurting out “But I thought you were sleeping?”.

Is that a question? Or a statement? Hunter has no idea, his brain utterly scattered.

You smile nervously. “I was getting ready to go to sleep,” you reveal “I was just in the refresher”.

Pointing to the door to the refresher, Hunter’s heart lurches at how close it is to the cockpit, knowing you’ve definitely heard everything.

Clearing his throat, Hunter nods “Yeah, let’s talk”. It’s better to talk this through now, while everyone else is asleep.

He isn’t sure how this will go, still doubtful that you could actually like him back. But there’s only one way to find out. Hunter gives you a small smile as you sit where Omega was minutes ago. Once you’re comfortably seated, Hunter takes a deep breath and begins…

#I haven't proof read this so apologies if it's kinda choppy #the bad batch hunter x you #star wars tbb #bad batch hunter #hunter tbb #hunter x reader #hunter x you #the bad batch hunter #tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter x you #the bad batch reader insert #the bad batch fanfiction #sergeant hunter #sergeant hunter x reader #sergeant hunter x you

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mandos-mind-trick · 10 months

Text

The Initiation

Summary: Echo doesn't quite know what he's getting himself into when he joins Clone Force 99. He definitely doesn't expect what goes on behind closed doors with their beloved medic.

Pairing: Poly Bad Batch x reader (no clonecest whatsoever)

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, group sex, kind of an orgy, reverse harem, brief glimpse of the author's glove kink, masturbation, exhibitionism, oral, spitroasting, Wrecker's big dick, unprotected sex, creampies galore, squirting, Hunter loves feeding reader's praise kink, Hunter's a bit of a dom, this is utter filth someone get me holy water i need to drink it.

A/N: *sweats nervously once more* Don't ask where this came from. I'm not sure you want to know. I...have no excuse. If you need me, I'll be in horny prison.

MASTERLIST

Echo notices not long after he joins them.

He feels more at home with Clone Force 99 than he would have back with the 501st. The “regs” they called them. Even on the cramped ship that’s too small already, he feels a sense of comfort. Of course, in such cramped quarters, it doesn’t take him long to notice things.

You, the squad’s medic, had been the most welcoming at first. You had been there, on Skako Minor, waiting with the ship for them to return. You’d spoken so softly, so sweetly to him, talking him through everything as you scanned his body for potential injuries. You’d wrapped him in a blanket, warming his frosted skin as much as physically possible. You hadn’t done any more than you needed to, not wanting to cause him any more stress than he was already feeling.

He hadn’t fallen in love in that moment, per se, but he had grown to like you first, before the others.

That wasn’t entirely the reason why he noticed it so quickly.

It was hard to miss.

The first were the touches. In close quarters it was hard to avoid sometimes, but this was more than that. Most recently had been coming in to land for their latest mission. You had been standing next to the seat Hunter was sitting in, in the cockpit. He had slipped a hand between your legs to grip your inner thigh and tug you closer to him. It had been far too high to be only Hunter keeping you steady as Tech expertly landed the ship.

You hadn’t seemed to care at all.

Then the proximity. You stood close to them. Very close. Even Crosshair who kept as much personal space as possible allowed you to break into that circle.

It wasn’t just you. They hovered as well, standing closer than regulation would approve of when you talked, sometimes so close you had to be breathing the same air.

Then the lingering glances. When you passed by them, their eyes would follow. When you were busy taking inventory, sorting through supplies, reading away at your datapad, they’d be sitting watching you. Their eyes would trail your form, very visible beneath your tactical suit. You don’t go out into the field with them, but due to their status as an independent squad, you wore tactical gear instead of the normal civilian medic scrubs. It had been modified, slightly of course, thanks to Tech. Despite the fact you never saw any combat, you had greater protection around vital areas just in case.

Something’s going on. Something more than just the closeness of a squad. Something they’re all in on. He’s too afraid to ask.

Maybe he should have.

***

His first experience in Clone Force 99’s barracks is...something. It’s messy, as the Marauder is. There’s a smell too, something he can’t quite place. Something bad. None of the others even seem to notice, not even you. You toss your bag onto the couch before sitting at the table, leaning your back against it.

“We can rig up something for you, if you don’t want to sleep on the couch.” Hunter tells him, setting his own pack down.

His gaze flickers to you. There’s only four bunks. He doesn’t want to take your spot if that’s where you sleep. “But what about-”

“I rotate bunks.” You say, lips curling up in a smirk.

Hunter says your name, a warning growl in his voice. Echo’s only heard that tone once from him, when Tech had made a quick decision without informing anyone else during a fight. It had worked in their favor, but Hunter liked to know when he was going to do something reckless.

“What?” You ask, batting your eyelashes innocently. “He’s a smart man, he’s probably figured something out by now. It’s not like you’ve been trying very hard to hide it.”

So he had been right. There were things, things beyond just the normal gawking of men enclosed in a tight space with a beautiful woman. You are beautiful. He can’t blame them for staring, or touching. It’s not exactly forbidden. He knows the kinds of things that happen during shore leave. But that was shore leave, far from the GAR and those that would report to higher-ups the goings on in the private lives of troopers.

Hunter had told him the little shore leave they get they spend here on Kamino, far from Coruscant and where the other troopers spend their free time.

An easier place to get caught.

He knows the consequences of doing it, the consequences of getting caught. The reprimanding, the possible decommissioning.

He stares at you wide eyed, Hunter passing him to stand in front of you. “That’s...against the-”

“What, against the rules?” Crosshair says, leaning against a crate. “You’ll be quick to learn we’re not exactly ones for following the rules.”

“It’s tradition.” Hunter says, hand cupping your chin to lift your gaze to him. You stare up at him, something shining in your eyes. Love? No, not quite. “Perhaps this time it can be more of an...initiation.”

“If you want.” You say, turning to look at Echo once more. You’re staring at him like you did when you first met him on the flight back from Skako Minor. Your tone is the same too, that gentle, disarming voice used to calm nervous patients. Your lips turn up in a soft smile, a complete 180 from the salacious look you had been wearing seconds ago. “You don’t have to, if you’re uncomfortable. You can always go and get dinner, give us a couple hours.”

He should. He should walk out the door and pretend he’s not about to watch his new squad’s medic act inappropriately with the other members of the squad. You don’t seem to have any complaints. There was no coercion on their part, at least that he could tell. You want this as much as they seem to do. They all move towards the table, hovering around it, around you.

You’re beautiful. You truly are. He’d be crazy to try and deny that. He can’t blame them, and perhaps if he had still been like he was before, he’d have tried to shoot his shot.

You rest your elbow on the table, leaning your head against your hand. “It’s up to you, handsome. You can always just watch, if that’s what you’d prefer.”

There’s a tense moment of silence, everyone still as you stare at Echo. He swallows thickly, knowing he should walk out while he still can, but he’s not sure he wants to. Maybe he does want to see this. Maybe he does want to partake. You seem so willing, so ready.

Hunter grabs your chin, yanking your face back to him. It’s rough, the sweetness in your eyes disappearing again, being replaced by the lusty look that had been in them before. Hunter presses his gloved thumb against your lips and you eagerly take it into your mouth.

He’s screwed. He’s so kriffing screwed.

Hunter stares at you as you suck on his thumb, seeming to silently communicate. This isn’t a new thing. You’ve been doing this for a while. Hunter pulls his thumb from your mouth, dropping his fingers to the neck of your tactical suit, tugging on it gently. “Off.”

You stand, Hunter stepping back. You begin to undress, pulling off your gear and tactical suit. Echo can’t help but avert his gaze as you pull off your breastband, his face feeling warmer than usual. You’re not the first naked woman he’s seen, but this is different. He’s not supposed to be seeing you naked.

His eyes dart back to you as you move, lifting yourself onto the table. His face feels warmer than usual as he stares at you, taking in every curve and slope of your body. You bend your legs, pressing your heels into the table, spread wide enough for even him to see the slick folds between your thighs.

“Get yourself ready, mesh’la.” Hunter says, his voice deeper than usual.

You lay back on the table, tracing a hand down your body. Echo can hear the thud of codpieces hitting the floor, but his eyes are focused on your hand as it dips lower and lower.

Your fingers run through folds, gathering some wetness. You slip a finger inside, letting out a breathy sound. Your other hand drops down to circle your clit slowly as you work your finger in, stretching yourself out. Your head falls back as you add a second finger, slowly picking up the pace.

Echo’s eyes focus on your lips, parted as you moan quietly. Anyone could walk in. Anyone could see you like this. The risks are so high, but no one seems to care.

You’re close, your fingers thrusting into you hard as you desperately chase your orgasm. Hunter turns his head, glancing at Crosshair. The sniper smirks, pulling his toothpick from his lips before flicking it across the room. He steps up to you, fingers wrapping around your wrist before tugging your hand from your pussy. You let out a whine in complaint, Crosshair tugging you up to sit.

“Aww man, why don’t I ever get to go first?” Wrecker complains.

“Because you’d rip her in half.” Crosshair says, delivering a sharp slap to your thigh as you maneuver yourself. You bend over the table, resting your head so you can see Echo. You make eye contact with him, lips parted as you breathe.

Crosshair’s thin fingers trail down your spine, your back arching to press your ass up. His other hand frees himself from his blacks, jerking his hard length. You moan as he presses his cock into your slick pussy, lifting up on your toes to take him deeper. Crosshair groans as he settles inside you, hands dropping to grip your hips.

You brace yourself on the table as Crosshair begins to move, pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts. You let out the most salacious sounds, Crosshair’s hand tangling in your hair to pull your head up. Tech steps up in front of you, slipping a hand into his blacks to draw out his cock. You open your mouth, waiting expectantly for Tech.

He presses his cock into your mouth, his own hand taking the place of Crosshair’s. Crosshair picks up the pace, snapping his hips into yours. The sound of his hips hitting your ass, and the wet squelch of your pussy are loud. Echo glances nervously at the door. If someone stood too close to the door, they could probably figure out what was going on.

No one else seems to care, though. They’re not stopping, nor attempting to be any quieter.

The only things that have been silenced are your moans, muffled by Tech’s cock in your mouth. You’re moaning and whimpering, at the mercy of the two clones as they use your body. Crosshair slips a hand under you, fingers rubbing your clit.

Your body shudders as you cum, letting out a high pitched moan around Tech’s cock. Crosshair groans as he stills, cumming inside you. Crosshair pulls free, Tech not slowing at all. Wrecker steps up, taking Crosshair’s place. He runs his fingers along your slit, gathering Crosshair’s seed that’s beginning to seep out of you, using his thick fingers to push it back in.

You moan around Tech’s cock, pushing yourself up on your elbows. There’s a pool of drool forming on the table under you, more stringing between your lips and Tech’s cock as he pulls free for a second. Wrecker takes advantage, pressing the thick head of his cock against your slit.

Your eyes squeeze closed, body relaxing as he presses into your pussy. You whimper at the stretch, body gaping around his thick cock. Your head ducks down, hand lifting to jerk Tech’s cock as Wrecker presses further in. Hunter steps up to your side, carding his fingers through your hair. It’s so soft and gentle, such a change from what had just happened.

You whine, hips shifting against Wrecker’s hold. “Too much.”

“You can take it, mesh’la.” Wrecker groans.

“Good girl,” Hunter praises, still stroking your hair. “Be a good girl and take him.”

You let out another pathetic whine, legs shaking by the time Wrecker is completely seated inside you. Hunter gently guides your head back up, Tech slipping his cock back into your mouth. You grip the edge of the table as Wrecker begins to move, slow thrusts as your body stretches around his cock.

Echo’s hands have curled into fists at his sides, his cock pressing uncomfortably against his codpiece. He never would have thought he could be turned on by something like this, but the sounds, the way your body moves so seamlessly with them, the noises coming from you...it’s all too much.

Tech grits his teeth as he stills, cumming into your mouth. You take all of him, swallowing his load. Wrecker pulls you up, holding your back to his chest as he cums with a loud groan, spilling into you. Tech slaps a hand over your mouth as you nearly scream, soaking the table and the floor with your orgasm.

Wrecker laughs rapturously, holding you up as you practically go limp in his arms. “Got another one!”

“Yes, well, you do have the anatomical advantage when it comes to producing such a result.” Tech says. “For some of us, it takes actual skill.”

Wrecker lays you on the table on your back, your body limp as you breathe heavily. “Yeah, well I’ve done it more times than anyone.”

“Enough.” Hunter says, stepping around the table to where you’re laying. “You can debate skills later. We’re not finished here yet.”

Their gazes all turn back to you, Hunter stepping between your legs. He reaches up, stroking your cheek gently. “Hi, mesh’la. Still with us?”

You nod, leaning into his touch. “Present, Sergeant.”

Hunter smirks, reaching down with his other hand to pull out his cock. “Good girl.”

You let out a little whine at the praise, his hands folding your legs against your chest. You hold the backs of your knees, keeping your legs in place.

Hunter smiles, trailing his hand down your front. “Such a good girl for us.” His fingers circle your clit, your legs twitching. “Can you take one more?”

You nod, looking absolutely fucked out as you stare up at him. “Yes, sir.”

He smiles, moving his hand to press against the back of your thigh as he guides his cock to your slit. You groan as he presses into you, giving you no time to adjust as he begins moving his hips. You make the sweetest little noises as he fucks you, eyes trained on him.

It feels different than with the others, softer and more intense. Echo wonders if it’s simply the dynamic. The others pick you apart and Hunter pieces you back together. He can’t help but be curious. How had this started? How long had it taken? Who was first? You’d probably tell him if he asked. It wasn’t like you were hiding it anymore. Not that you really had been from the start.

Your knuckles are white where they’re gripping under your knees as Hunter rolls his hips against yours. He can tell just by the sounds you’re making how close you are. He can already pick up the cues your body gives.

Hunter grips your hips, pulling you to the very edge of the table. His movements change, thrusting shallowly into you. Your legs begin to shake, moans getting louder and higher pitched. He knows what’s coming already, your hips jerking as you soak the front of Hunter’s armor, sending a squirting into the air and onto the floor. Hunter takes his cock in his hand, jerking it a couple times before he cums onto your pussy and thighs.

Wrecker stares in disbelief, making a disappointed noise.

“Looks like you won’t be in the lead for much longer.” Crosshair teases, slipping a toothpick back into his mouth.

Tech grabs a questionable looking towel off the floor, wiping down the table and the floor. You let your legs go, both flopping bonelessly over the edge of the table.

“So?” Hunter says, turning to Echo. He’s still standing between your thighs, the front of his armor dripping from your explosive orgasm. “What do you think of our girl?”

Echo’s throat feels constricted. He’s not sure he could speak if he wanted to. He’s hard, fists still clenched at his sides.

“You’re a part of this squad now.” Hunter says, placing a gentle hand on your stomach. “Which means you can be part of this if you want.” He glances down at you. “She’d like you to be, wouldn’t you, cyare?”

You nod, still lying limp on the table. “Want your cock, Echo.” Your voice is raw, hardly more than a murmur.

Hunter stares at him, waiting for an answer. Echo knows he can say no. You’ll be disappointed but not upset. He should say no. You’ve had enough, he can tell, but the way you’d worked Tech with your mouth, giving control over to him. His cock twitches at the thought.

“So, how do you want her?” Hunter asks.

“I-I want her mouth.” Echo finally says, stumbling over the words.

Hunter helps you sit up, easing you off the table. “Come on, mesh’la. Show him what you can do with that pretty little mouth.”

You take the couple steps to him with a distinctive limp, dropping to your knees. You’re hazy eyed and soaked with sweat, sticky from your cum and theirs. You look absolutely fucked. If someone walked in, there would be no question. All they’d have to do is look at you to know what had transpired in the barracks.

You wait patiently on your knees as Echo reaches into his blacks pulling his hard cock out. You lean forward and for a moment he’s worried you’re passing out, but instead you stick your tongue out, running it along the bottom side of his length. His jaw clenches, hand closing around the base of his cock so he doesn’t cum immediately and embarrass himself. It’s been a long time since he’s felt anything, and your warm mouth might send him straight into space.

You grip his thighs as you lick along his length, swirling your tongue over his head. Your eyes lift, no longer hazy as they meet his, staring deeply into them as you take him into your mouth. He keeps hold of his cock, watching as you sink lower and lower until your lips are pressing against his hand. He swallows thickly, the warmth of your mouth and the press of your tongue almost too much.

He understands now. Not that he hadn’t before, but he can see how they’ve all fallen so heavily for you, risking being discovered just for this. Just for you.

You bob your head, fucking his cock with your mouth. He desperately squeezes the base, not wanting to cum just yet. He holds on for dear life, keeping his gaze locked to yours as you suck the very soul out of him.

He lets go, cumming with a curse as he spills into your mouth. You swallow around him, taking every last drop before releasing him. You lick at his head, cleaning every last drop before you sit back, licking your lips.

Hunter steps up next to you, gently patting your head. “Good girl.”

Wrecker helps you into the ‘fresher, Tech cleaning up the rest of the mess you had made. Echo tucks himself back in his blacks, trying to wrap his head around what had just happened. Two years ago he would have never considered taking a civilian medic to bed, much less with his own squad. They’re so nonchalant about it, slipping back into their routines almost instantly.

When he had first met you, he would have never thought you did something like this behind closed doors. It’s not hard to see why they would take advantage of your willingness, though. You’re captivating, not just in your skills and your beauty.

Kriff, he’s in deep now.

He’s not as upset about it as he should be.

Taglist:

@kaminocasey, @rosechi, @mxkyrie, @bobaprint, @star-trekker-0013, @padawancat97 @bamfahsoka, @rain-on-kamino

#star wars #star wars fic #the bad batch #the bad batch fic #poly bad batch #the bad batch x reader #bad batch x reader #tbb x reader #the dark side fic

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dimorphodon-x · 6 months

Text

“There are extra cubes for Nova in the fridge and a few hard metal treats in the cupboard,” Thunderclash recounted everything, “but, are you sure-?”

“Don’t worry, Thunders,” Starhawk smiled and reached for his larger, blockier hand. The large bot slightly jumped at the surprisingly solid grip, “I’ve gotten better at interacting with physical objects. I can take care of Novabird if he needs anything.”

A small squeak escaped Thunderclash as the ghost reached up and gave the brim of his helm a quick cold kiss, “you go out and have a nice date with Roddy, ok?”

“Uh-uh huh,” Thunderclash dumbly nodded and stepped back towards the door, “t-take care.”

“Have fun,” Hawk waved the large mech off, watching him leave with the smaller flame colored mech.

Now alone, the ghostly flier went to check on the sparkling. Novabird was still sleeping, and hopefully would for a few hours. Though at the same time, Hawk wished he could play with his son now that it was just the two of them. Nova couldn’t see him, but the way the little guy laughed and squealed in delight as his toys seemingly flew over his head brought the phantom much joy.

Though playtime with Nova was often short as Rodimus would quickly investigate what all the commotion was, and Starhawk would have to hurriedly put the toys back down before he opened the door.

Oh well, there was other stuff a ghost could do to pass the time. Like a bit of tidying up.

He couldn’t do any deep cleaning of course, that would be too conspicuous. Instead Hawk went about doing small tasks, like straightening pictures, or picking up small bits of unnoticed garbage and tossing them into the bin.

Such small chores were quickly finished and Starhawk went to sit on the couch in the living room. Thunderclash had left a datapad on one of the arms for Starhawk to read through to pass the time.

The ghostly jet was about half an hour into his reading when a sound caught his attention. Small rattling and then a door being forced open a few moments after.

Someone was breaking in.

Immediately Starhawk rushed to investigate. Walls were no obstacle as he just phased through them to get to Rodimus and Thunderclash’s bedroom. The window had been opened and the intruder (or even intruders) entered the home from there. He could hear them going through some of the items in the hallway closet.

Panic setting in, Hawk rushed for Novabird’s room. There were two intruders. He didn’t recognize them, but that didn’t matter. They were making their way to the sparkling’s room.

“Frag, frag!” Hawk hissed. Nova’s door didn’t have a lock and he couldn’t yet pick up heavy items like shelves to block it. He looked at the sleeping sparkling in the crib. He doubted he could pick him up to move him to a safe hiding spot, but he’d be damned if he didn’t try.

The phantom’s fingers curled under Novabird, slightly lifting him up. Nova’s face scrunched up at the cold hands trying to pick him up and grunted unhappily.

“Shh shh! Stay quiet little Nova,” Hawk pleaded. His fingers were starting to phase through the little body, “oh please oh please oh please-!”

“Oh, what do we have here?”

No!

Starhawk gasped as his fingers gave, and Novabird plopped back into his cushioned crib. The short drop startled the sparkling awake and he shrieked. The two intruders hissed at the sudden cry.

“Uhg, noisy little thing,” the shorter of them snarled, rubbing at their audial. Their partner merely hummed and approached the crib. Starhawk instinctively shielded his crying son with his frame, yet the stranger could not see him.

“Go away, go away!”

“This is Rodimus’ kid, right?” Hawk gagged as a hand went right through his head as the stranger held a digit out to the sparkling. Novabird grabbed the intruder’s finger, still crying but starting to calm down.

“Yeah. What of it?” Short One joined their partner next to the crib, but kept their hands on their hips, “nasty little vermin.”

Starhawk growled at the comment and tried to swat the other mech’s hand away from his son.

“Rodimus is a Prime, right?” Creepy One smiled down at Novabird, wiggling their captured finger, “and Primes have money, right?”

“I guess. Thunderclash at least has money. I think.”

Starhawk did not like where this seemed to be going.

“And I’m sure little guy’s parents love him lots,” Creepy’s smile widened, “enough to pay lots of money to get their bundle of joy back home safe and sound.”

Shorty’s eyes widened and their grin mirrored Creepy’s, “oh, I gotcha. Much easier than stealing junk.”

Hawk’s vision went red.

“Do noT TOUCH HIM!”

The duo recoiled in surprise, and Novabird screamed again.

“What was that?” Shorty looked around, “you heard that too, right?”

“I didn’t hear it,” Creepy frowned, “but I felt something.”

The phantom lunged at Creepy, talons extended as he slashed at the mech’s chest. The intruder yelped as lines appeared in his paint.

“GET OUT!” Hawk snarled, Shorty shrinking back at his voice.

“Who’s there?” They whimpered pathetically, looking around, “show yourself!”

Creepy jumped forward and scooped Novabird up from his crib, holding the screaming sparkling up, “don’t try anything stupid, or the kid gets it!”

The room shook with a furious growl and the shadows seemed to grow larger and darker, crawling towards the intruders. In the darkness, they could just make out the shape of a mangled jet, and a pair of yellow eyes glaring at them.

Novabird shrieked as he squirmed in the stranger’s rough hands, trying to pry their fingers off of him.

“PUT HIM BACK.”

“Who… what are you?” Shorty hid behind their larger partner. The figure grew more distorted as the room again trembled with the phantom’s rage. The two backed towards the door anxiously.

“PUT. HIM. BACK.”

A black hand shot out and shut the door before the two could escape. Shorty wailed and all but collapsed to their knees in fear, while Creepy barred their teeth and stood defiantly.

“It’s a demon!” They hissed, eyes wide. They held Novabird up like a shield, “a messenger of Unicron!”

“I’ll show you demon,” Hawk snarled, broad wings flaring and engulfing the room completely in his rage.

Creepy was unable to see anything, not even the sparkling they were holding right in front of them. It felt like cold hands snatched the child away, and they could hear Shorty screaming and crying and begging for mercy.

“This isn’t real,” they whispered, “you can’t hurt us, you’re not real!”

“Not real?”

Moonlight returned to the room and the black figure was standing at the crib, the sparkling tucked in and sleeping soundly, despite having been crying only a moment ago.

Creepy glanced at their cowering partner, then to the phantom, their spark pounding behind their scratched chest plates.

“Not real?” The phantom repeated, eyes narrowing, “you’re stupid.”

The intruder frowned, stepping back, though their heel hit the wall.

Hawk stepped around Nova’s crib, his frame solid yet flowy like fire as he approached Creepy, “enough of my spark wants to stay behind to guard my family from the likes of you vermin. I’ve picked up a few tricks here and there, but there’s one thing I really want to test out on you tonight.”

“What?” Creepy pressed themself against the wall as cold hands grabbed his shoulders, “what are you-?”

“I’m experimenting,” Starhawk smiled as his frame dissipated, almost appearing to sink into Creepy’s chassis.

Shorty hesitantly lowered their arms and looked up at their partner, seeing their frame seize up and their eyes go white.

“H-hey. What’s wrong?”

Creepy blinked, their eyes dimming to yellow, and turned to look down at the cowering mech.

“Nothing is wrong,” they smiled, seeming oddly pleased with themself, “I’m just glad this worked.”

“What are you talking about? Hey!” Shorty yelped as Creepy grabbed their arm and yanked them up, restraining them in a tight hug, “what are you doing??”

“I’m going to make sure you both pay for this,” Hawk hissed, “I can’t believe you two, breaking into someone’s home and plotting to kidnap their child? Barbaric.”

“Y-you’re-?”

“Roddy’s late husband,” the possessed mech smiled as they exited the baby’s room and made their way to the living room, “and that sparkling is my son.”

Shorty let out a strained whine as Creepy sat down on the couch with them still in their arms, “this is crazy. What are you gonna do to us?”

“Call my boyfriend,” Hawk answered simply.

Shorty made a face.

“Thunderclash,” the phantom clarified, then went silent as he seemingly made his call.

…

Thunderclash and Rodimus burst frantically into their home, but froze as soon as they saw the pair of intruders seated on their couch. The larger was stiff as a board, one arm wrapped around the other mech, and the other hand clasped over their mouth to keep them quiet.

“I… what is this?” Rodimus looked up at Thunderclash, who merely shrugged.

“Go check on Novabird, Rodimus. I can take care of these two.”

The speedster didn’t need to be told twice as he ran for Nova’s room. Thunderclash cautiously approached the couch, eying the strangers warily.

“…Starhawk?”

He nearly jumped when the bigger mech turned their head to look at him, and smiled.

“Hey Thunders. How was the date?”

“It… was fine. Until I got the call.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourselves. Shame these two idiots had to cut it short,” Starhawk frowned and glared at the trembling mech in his arms, “now, could you please restrain them? I’m actually really fraggin tired and it’s getting harder to move in this body. It’s also really gross in here and I want out.”

“Oh! Of course!” Thunderclash hurried to grab some tape and rope from the supply closet and was able to quickly tie up the intruders' wrists and ankles, freeing the phantom from having to possess one of them and then calling the police to arrest them.

It didn’t take long for the cops to show up and take the trembling pair away. The short one kept on blabbering on about something regarding shadows and spirits, but no one was paying any attention. Certainly not Thunderclash anyway.

With the thieves turned almost kidnappers taken care of, Thunderclash was able to join Rodimus in Novabird’s room. The speedframe had scooped the bitty out of his crib and was pacing back and forth, holding him close to his chest and muttering to the confused and sleepy sparkling. Thunderclash frowned as he watched Rodimus fret and carefully approached.

“How’s Nova?”

Rodimus stopped his pacing and swallowed. His voice cracked as he responded, “he’s okay. He’s unharmed.”

“Thank goodness for that,” Thunderclash sighed as he stepped closer. Rodimus shuddered and all but collapsed into the larger mech’s arm, “whoa!”

“We could’ve lost him, Thunders!” He gasped, “those bastards could’ve taken him away and we’d never see him again!”

Thunderclash hugged the smaller mech closer, glancing down at Novabird. The little bitty was staring back up at him with large blue eyes, confused and curious. The thought of returning to an empty crib made his lines run cold, “but he’s here, Rodimus. He’s here and he’s safe and no one will ever harm him.”

“We never should’ve left him alone,” Rodimus buried his face against Thunder’s neck, “never again, never never never…”

Thunderclash opened his mouth. He wanted to tell him that Nova hadn’t been left alone, that he was being guarded at all times. He caught sight of Hawk’s ghost, watching them from the other end of the room. His figure was faded and most of his features looked half remembered.

“I don’t think he’d believe you,” Starhawk’s wings drooped as he shook his head, “and it might only hurt him to know anyway.”

Thunderclash shut his mouth with a frown. Alright. Maybe another time then.

#spooky month so have this thing that I’ve had sitting in my docs for literally a year💀#my art #fanfic #transformers #transformers oc #starhawk #Novabird #thunderclash #rodimus #rodiclash #thunderhawk #sparklings #spector au

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ireadwithmyears · 13 days

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.

117 notes · View notes

soaringthroughthegalaxy · 5 months

Note

Hello. It's Talita from Ao3 here, I said I would come. 🤭😂 So I'd like to request Hunter x shy fem reader with the last smutty prompt: ❛ i love that no one else has seen you like this, that no one else has felt you before, been inside you. they don't get to have you, but i do. ❜ Maybe the reader's inexperience might come to the surface when they're all in 79s and a drunken Crosshair suggests she get someone to f*c*? But reader waits for the right partner. ♥️

Hey Talita! Thanks for the request and all the love you’ve been sharing 🥰

Shy readers seem to be the flavour of the moment, as I just went out with one for Crosshair!

This one ran away with me. It’s my longest to date. Hope it's okay 😊

Waiting for You

A night out at 79’s leads to a revelation that surprises the whole batch, and with feelings becoming increasingly more difficult to hide, it was only a matter of time before you and Hunter reached a crossroads. (Pre Echo)

Pairing: Hunter x f!reader

Word count: 6.8k

Rating: 18+ MINORS DNI!!

Warnings: friends to lovers (🤌), Cross is a shit stirrer (what else is new?), alcohol consumption (but both parties are sober for spicy time), sibling teasing/banter, sweet sweet tension and yearning, sexually shy!reader, virgin!reader, first kiss, first time together, oral (f!receiving), light fingering, unprotected PiV, reassurance and comfort, pet names, praise, sprinkle of dirty talk, soft aftercare.

Translation: (Mando'a) Gar ru'lis ganar kaysh. – You could have her.

The thump of the music wasn’t so heavy, tucked away in a back booth of 79’s. It wasn’t often you visited, preferring to frequent other bars and clubs whenever you and the boys had shore leave - there were perks to them not looking like Regs. However, 79’s was close to where you were all staying and cheap enough that the few credits you’d all managed to save would go much further than they would anywhere else.

Wedged between Wrecker and Hunter, with Tech and Crosshair taking up the seats on the opposite side of the booth, you watched as Wrecker pried a well-worn card from the pile in the middle of the table. During your last Venator stop, you’d made a few trades with some of the Regs and had walked away with a small pile of loot, including a set of ‘drink or do’ cards. They were common amongst the clones during downtime, providing distraction and intoxication.

Wrecker flipped the card over, huffing as his eyes skipped over the text. “Let the group message anyone on ya datapad or take two shots.” He read the card aloud.

Crosshair’s hand immediately extended for the datapad, fingers curling in a ‘give it here’ gesture. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, and you laughed as Wrecker huffed, handing over his device to his younger brother.

“You are aware this is a group effort, yes?” Tech asked, leaning in towards his twin to look at the screen. Out of all of you, Tech had elected to stay sober, hating the way his mind went fuzzy with the effects of alcohol. One of you needed to ensure you all returned to the hotel in one piece.

The deadpan look Crosshair gave him pulled a giggle from you. You were several drinks deep by now – some of the cards you’d drawn had been wholly inappropriate, so shots had been the only option. Everything felt good, your inhibitions lowered, and you knew you were safe. Your men would look after you.

A year you’d been with them, traversing the galaxy, trying desperately to keep them alive. Nat-born medics were a rarity in the GAR, but sometimes they were called in. You’d been head-hunted from Coruscant Medical after the Batch had been out in the field for a few months –they hadn’t gotten on well with the Reg medics initially assigned to them.

“Please pick Fox.” You insisted, leaning a little across the table. Gasping, you had a new idea. “Wait, no! Wolffe.” You leaned back with a wide grin, enjoying Wrecker’s groan. Knowing Crosshair, the message would be salacious, and you knew a few of the men in the Wolfpack who would absolutely fill you in on their Commander’s reaction in the morning.

Crosshair lifted a finger, pointing it at you. “I like the way you think, doll.” He complimented. Only when he was several drinks in did his tongue loosen and compliments flow more freely.

“That’s why you keep me around.” You tease, watching as the sharpshooter taps out a quick message. A gentle hand on your knee has you turning your attention to Hunter, your smile widening at his touch and how he pushes a glass of water closer to you, encouraging you to hydrate properly to stave off a hangover in the morning. Warmth seeps through you at his care, and you’re grateful for the cacophony of sounds and stimuli in 79’s that mask the way your heart rate spikes a little.

Although Hunter indulged a little this evening, he knew his limits. He’d been nursing a Tsiraki for most of the night. If he wasn’t careful, it didn’t take much to frazzle his senses and cause a two-day migraine. Keeping his wits about him also meant he could look after you.

Nestled between Wrecker and himself, the laugh lines on your face and the glint in your eyes told Hunter that you cherished these moments despite the chaotic nature of their lives. He appreciated how you fit into their world, understanding their quirks and unspoken communication. You navigated the challenges of their unique existence with a grace that fascinated him. To him, you weren’t just their medic; you were their companion, their confidant, a source of solace in a gritty galaxy.

Hunter’s gaze lingered on you as Crosshair added the final touches to the message. The playful banter and easy camaraderie were the moments he adored the most. Yet, beneath it all, there was a yearning, a quiet ache that he couldn’t quite put into words.

He saw the weariness that sometimes lingered in your eyes – chased away this evening by liquor and laughter – and wished he could erase the shadows that sometimes clouded your gaze. It fuelled his desire to protect and shield you from the harsh realities that had become their norm.

Taking a sip of his Tsiraki, Hunter let his gaze linger on the curve of your profile. The way your hair fell, and your fingers traced absentminded patterns on the table while you chatted with his brothers stirred something within him. Something that he wanted to grab with both hands and hold close.

Lost in his thoughts, he almost missed the moment you turned to him, your eyes meeting his with a warmth that sent a shiver down his spine. “What do you think?” You asked. “Suitable enough?”

Hunter blinks once, twice, and then nods. “Sure, sounds good.” He answers, having no idea what you’d been asking about. As you turned back to face the others at the table, Hunter caught the knowing look Tech sent him. Try as he might to hide that ache in his chest, his brother was too smart to miss it.

“Ya can’t send that!” Wrecker protests, mild panic in his eyes as Crosshair, eternal torturer of his siblings, grins at his brother as he pushes the send button. “Ahh, I don’t wanna know if he responds.” Wrecker shakes his head, though a smile also tugs at the corners of his lips. He turns his head towards you. “You’re next.”

Reaching for the stack of cards in the middle of the table, you pry the top one free and pull it towards you. You scan over the instructions, grimacing. “Name five different places you’ve had sex or take three shots.” You read it aloud, tossing the card down onto the table.

Beside you, you feel Hunter shift, Wrecker and Crosshair break into laughter, and Tech offers you a sympathetic smile. With a resigned sigh, you reach for your glass. But before you can grasp it, it’s snatched away from you.

“Cross!” You gasp, jaw slackening as you watch mischief dance in the sniper’s hawkish eyes.

“You’ve skipped out on nearly every ‘do’ task tonight. But you’re not skipping this one.” Crosshair insists, dragging your drink away so you can’t take it back. His motives were two-fold. One, he was nosey. And two, he wasn’t stupid. He’d seen the way Hunter had been looking at you for months now, and watching his older brother squirm as you shared your sex life would be fantastic.

With a huff, you cross your arms over your chest, resting your elbows on the table. “Is your sex life so bland you have to live vicariously through mine?” You tease, arching an eyebrow. Boisterous laughter erupts at the table, and you can’t help but giggle along.

Crosshair scowls. “Please. I could have any woman in this place.” He snorts, leaning in and lifting a hand with his five fingers up. “Five places. I’ll count them off for you.” He challenges.

“Nu-uh.” You refute, unfurling an arm to wag a finger at him.

“Only kriff in a bed then. How boring.” He can’t help but bite back, turning the tide onto you.

Rolling your eyes, you huff, used to this song and dance with him. “No.”

“Out with it, then.” He pushes.

Worry curls through you. You trusted these men with your life, knew that their teasing was all light-hearted and they’d never genuinely mock you, but some things were private. “Cross…” You mumble, fingers finding the neckline of your shirt to play with the fabric nervously.

“Pretty little thing like you probably has many stories to tell!” Wrecker laughs, giving your shoulder a light nudge.

You laugh awkwardly, trying to make up some stories on the spot, ones you can quickly sell, teeth sinking into your lower lip.

Curiosity painted itself on Tech’s face – he’d spent long enough studying your body language to aid him in understanding nat-born social cues, to pick up on the subtleties. “You do not have any stories.” He states, with no judgement in his tone.

The certainty of Tech’s comment captures Hunter’s attention, and he tilts his head in your direction, brown eyes taking in the nervousness and mild panic that’s now on your face.

“Don’t tell me you’re a kriffing virgin…” Crosshair is equal parts horrified and amused. There was no way in hell you – you – hadn’t been with anyone.

Embarrassment seeps through you, and you drop your gaze to the table, fingers going back to trace the patterns of the wooden surface.

Crosshair couldn’t believe it; this was wilder than any other confession they had shared during the night. “You’re kidding me…even Tech’s been laid a handful of times, and you haven’t?”

Tech sighs at his twin’s barb, though he’s used to them by now and doesn’t take it to heart.

At your silence, the boys share a glance, trying to hide their surprise at the situation.

Mulling it over, Crosshair looks around the bar. “Plenty of pickings in here. Then again…Regs.” He sneers.

“I don’t want a random hookup. I want the right one.” You admit quietly, shyness taking a front-row seat.

Crosshair baulks. “Oh, hell. You want romance and love.” The idea horrifies him even more. He goes to speak again, but Hunter interjects.

“Crosshair…” Hunter warns, voice low. He’d picked up on your discomfort and wanted to end it.

A smirk tilts Crosshair’s lips at the reprimand. He’d opted not to say anything or show his hand in the past, keeping his knowledge about Hunter’s affection for you quiet. “Gar ru'lis ganar kaysh.” He teases with a toothy grin, unleashing that hand.

Tech and Wrecker can’t hide their snorts of laughter at his words. Hunter’s lips press together, and he huffs, reaching for a card to bring the focus back to the game and off you. Crosshair’s dark chuckle seeps into the air, delighted at getting a small rise from his older brother.

The Mando’a catches you off guard – you didn’t know enough to understand what had been said, but the laughter and Hunter’s reaction had you frowning. The boys had only taught you the odd word or two as they didn’t use it as much anymore. As Hunter pries his card from the pile and flips it over, he places his hand back on your knee under the table, reassuringly squeezing it. Reaching down, you give his wrist a light squeeze, appreciating that he’d taken the heat off you. His hand stays in place as he reads the card aloud, and the game continues.

Your shore leave had been a welcome reprieve, especially as six back-to-back missions had followed it. You’d wrapped up the latest hours ago, and the Senator you’d helped had been exceptionally grateful for the assistance. He’d offered for you all to stay on the planet for a little while to rest in one of his many hotels. A quick comm to Command had seen it okayed for two days, so here you were, hanging out on the balcony of Hunter’s suite.

You’d accidentally discovered that you had connecting rooms, having knocked on a random door in your suite and been amused to find Hunter on the other side when it had opened. He’d immediately invited you in, and you’d headed for the balcony to watch the city go by while he finished the last report. Crosshair and Wrecker had gone off searching for food, while Tech had decided to tinker with his latest project.

Leaning against the railing, laughter from down below captures your attention. Eyes falling to where the sound was coming from, you watch a couple embrace on the side of the street, sharing lingering kisses. From your vantage point, you can make out their broad smiles.

An ache settles in your chest, that old pesky feeling of yearning tugging at you. Unconsciously, you tug your cardigan around you a little tighter – whether to keep out the chill in the wind or offer some comfort, you don’t know.

In the suite, and with the reports finished, Hunter pauses at the doorway, unable to pry his eyes off you. Something about how you’re standing, the expression on your beautiful face, makes unease sink into his gut. He wants to chase away whatever is making you look so sad.

It was becoming harder and harder for him to ignore his feelings, to tamper them down, especially as he knew his brothers were all aware. How long would it be before you picked up on it, too? That blasted night at 79’s kept replaying in his mind, his fingers itching to reach for you at every opportunity and to make a move before someone else snapped you up and took you from him. Hunter knows he doesn’t have much he can give you and can’t promise a safe or long life together – anything can happen in a war – but he knows he can provide you with romance. He knows he can make you the centre of his galaxy, and you’ll never have to question his devotion.

But would you want that from him, though? It was the one thought that stopped him.

Realising he’d been watching for a while, Hunter joins you on the balcony, moving to your side. You don’t startle; you’re used to him and his brothers silently approaching by now. He follows your focused gaze, watching a couple on the street share kisses before flagging down a taxi. “They look happy.” He comments quietly, wondering if that was the cause of your sadness.

“Mhm.” You hum in agreement, wondering for a moment longer what it would be like to be so carefree and in love. Before falling too far down the ash-rabbit hole, you focus on the man at your side. “Plans for the evening?” You ask, changing the subject while hoping to lighten your mood.

Not wanting to push, Hunter lets it go and instead lifts a hand to count off each element of his plan on his fingers. “Room service, a holodrama, and sleep.”

“Okay there, Grandpa.” You tease, the wind whipping around you a little more as you break out into a smile.

Hunter’s pretty sure your smile could end this war if you turned it on the right people. With a fond shake of his head, he chuckles. Unable to help himself just this once, he reaches out and gently tucks a stray strand of your hair behind your ear.

The action makes you pause, smile faltering, lips parting slightly in surprise. For a moment, you look at one another, the air seeming to crackle with something. Hunter had always been soft with you, but he’d been even more attentive since the night at 79’s.

“Join me?” He asks, not willing to let you go just yet.

“Sure.” You reply with a soft smile, not even needing a moment to think about it, and Hunter leads the way back into the suite. The balcony door closes behind you, muffling the sounds of the bustling city outside.

You settle onto the couch and Hunter orders room service. As you wait for the food to arrive, you fall into easy conversation, discussing missions, the state of the galaxy, and anything else that comes to mind.

The food doesn’t take long to arrive, the aroma filling the room, and you both enjoy a quiet dinner. Between you, you select a holodrama that turns out to be surprisingly entertaining. But as it progresses, you find yourself drawn to Hunter’s presence. His arm casually rests against the back of the couch, not quite touching you but close enough to send a shiver down your spine. A fluttery feeling erupts in your belly as your brain helpfully supplies that this kind of thing always happens in the trashy romance novels that clog up your datapad.

Nearing the end of the holodrama, a feather-light touch brushes against the nape of your neck and you instinctively lean into it. Hunter’s fingers trace gentle circles, and you feel a warmth spreading through you. Glancing towards him, you find his gaze fixed on you.

“Sorry.” He murmurs, withdrawing his hand slightly.

“No, it’s... nice.” You respond, surprising yourself with the admission. Hunter’s hand returns and the soft touch continues.

Hunter is at war with himself – if there was ever a time to make a move, it would be now. His senses are on overdrive, homed in on you, picking up every errant breath you take, the heavy thud of your heart, and your soft swallows.

The weight of the moment sits, the holodrama becoming background noise as you witness the conflict in Hunter’s gaze. It doesn’t last long, though, and the subtle touch on your neck becomes bolder, his hand shifting around to cup your cheek as his thumb brushes against your lower lip.

Inexperience makes you nervous, heart thumping wildly. You go to dip your head to break the eye contact, but Hunter’s pointer finger hooks under your chin to stop the movement.

He leans in slowly, closing the distance between you, giving you time to pull away if you’re uncomfortable. But you don’t. You remain still, those pretty eyes of yours focused on him even as your heart rate spikes and your breaths turn a little shallower with anticipation. “Cyar’ika…” He murmurs, a hair’s breadth away from you, gaze dropping momentarily to your lips.

The flood of feelings instead of you is overwhelming - excitement and nervousness, worry and anticipation. It’s hard to single each one out. You’d been telling the truth in 79’s - you were indeed waiting for the right man - but you’d omitted that you were sure it was the man now sat at your side, letting you decide whether to push your friendship into something more.

You lean in ever so slightly, and finally, his lips brush against yours in a tentative, exploratory kiss. It’s soft and sweet, testing the waters. Your eyes flutter closed, savouring the warmth that spreads through you.

The kiss deepens, becoming more passionate, and you respond eagerly. The taste of him, the feel of his hand on your cheek, it’s much more than you expected.

Hunter’s other hand moves between you and the couch, resting on the small of your back, pulling you closer. Your hands find their way to his shoulders, fingers intertwining with the fabric of his shirt as he draws you onto his lap.

Breaking the kiss, Hunter pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort. Instead, he finds his desire mirrored. “You okay?” He double-checks quietly, his breath mingling with yours.

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips. “More than okay.”

Hunter grins, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. “Good.” He whispers before capturing your lips in another kiss, the intensity growing between you. The holodrama plays on, completely forgotten, as you lose yourselves in the moment.

The touch of his lips and the warmth of his embrace all feel right. Hunter’s hands explore your back, and you feel the gentle press of his fingers as they slide under your shirt, sending shivers down your spine. Eventually, you both pull back, foreheads resting against each other as you catch your breath. The air is charged with electric energy, and the room feels warm.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” Hunter admits, his voice a low, smoky murmur, but conflict shines in his eyes. “I can’t give you the things any other man could. There’s no guarantee of tomorrow. I know it’s not right an-“

You meet his gaze, feeling warmth in your cheeks. “It is right.” You cut him off softly, breaking eye contact, focusing instead on the slight hollow of his throat as nervousness sweeps through you. “This... with you, it feels right.” You confess quietly.

Delight simmers in Hunter’s veins, and his fingers trace patterns on your back. He still feels guilty, but if this is what you want, and you’re sure it’s right, then who is he to protest? Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he smiles. “Then I’ll do everything I can to ensure you always feel that way.”

Your fingers find his chest, the buttery softness of his shirt doing nothing to conceal the firm muscles beneath it. A slight hum of contentment slides from him as you brush your fingers up and down his sternum. The nerves are back, your eyes flitting up to gaze at him, noting how his own are closed and contentment is painted across his face.

On your next stroke down, your fingers dip slightly lower, catching the first few ridges of his abs. A deep rumble vibrates his chest, giving you courage. Head tilting down to watch your actions, your heart pounds as your fingers skirt close to the hem of his shirt – and the waistband of his pants. A tattooed hand wraps around your wrist, stilling your motions, and you look up from under your lashes.

Meeting your gaze, Hunter’s thumb rubs small circles on your pulse point. “Feels good, cyar’ika. But there’s no rush.”

“I know, but…” You trail off for a moment, averting your gaze. “I want this. I want you.” You confess quietly, feeling warmth return to your cheeks as you chance a glance at him. “I’m tired of waiting, and I-I want you to be my first…”

Hunter was a good man, a strong man, but hell if he didn’t crumble at your confession. His fingers find your face, tilting your head upwards so he can look at you properly. He was touched by your admittance but didn’t want you to regret anything. “Promise me?” He asks gently, knowing how much value you placed on promises.

Meeting warm brown eyes, you couldn’t help the soft smile that crossed your lips. You were nervous, yes, but this felt right. “I promise.”

Leaning in, Hunter’s lips capture yours in a heated kiss. His hands shift, moving to cup your ass, and he lifts you up as he stands. The small noise of surprise you let out and how you grasp at him for stability draws a deep chuckle from him, though the sound is muffled by the kiss. It’s only a few steps over to the bed, and as he lowers you down gently onto the plush surface, he follows, hands smoothing across your hips as he rests a little of his weight against you.

Lips trailing from yours, he drags kisses across your cheek and down to your jawline, following the curve of your throat, giving a light nip as he reaches the juncture where your shoulder and neck meet. How your hips buck at the contact, breath catching, clues him in to how much you enjoy it. Your hands shift down Hunter’s body, and he can feel the nervousness rolling off you. Propping himself up above you with one hand, he uses the other to guide your hands towards his body, encouraging you to touch him in return. “There’s no reason to be nervous. We only do what you’re comfortable with.” He tells you, wanting to make that abundantly clear. “And we can stop anytime.”

You nod, chest rising and falling with each quick breath as your hands meet Hunter’s body. Encouraged, you explore the ridges and planes of him, fingers smoothing over him before gripping his narrow waist. His mouth is back on you, dragging across your throat, pulling soft noises from your lips as you familiarise yourself with the man above you. As your hands shift, a flash of courage rips through you, and you reach down, one hand landing squarely on his ass, giving the firm muscle a soft squeeze.

Hunter startles, not expecting the action, and warm puffs of his breath fan across your neck as he chuckles. “Cheeky.” He murmurs against your skin, the vibration of his laughter sending pleasant shivers down your spine. The atmosphere in the room is charged with a mix of desire and nervous excitement as you continue to explore each other.

Hands pull at clothes, material discarded, fluttering to the hotel room floor as acres of skin are revealed. You’re warm to the touch, the earlier chill from the balcony chased away by Hunter’s hands. Self-consciousness creeps through you as your underwear is cast aside, thighs pressing together to try and hide yourself.

“Cyar’ika…” Hunter tuts, strong hands moving down your body until he can rub and squeeze at your thighs. “Don’t hide from me. Wanna see all of you.” He murmurs, kisses trailing down your body. Tongue gliding across your breasts, he draws a nipple into his mouth, the corners of his lips curling upward as you gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair.

Pleasure rolls through you as you tug gently at Hunter’s brown curls, back arching to press more of yourself against him. He’s warm against you, bronze skin and dark ink pressed as close as possible, and it’s difficult to ignore the weight of his half-hard cock against your thigh.

Switching his focus to your other nipple, Hunter lavishes it with the same attention before he starts to creep back down your body. “Wanna taste you.” He breathes against your stomach, lips drawing across soft skin, fingers teasing your thighs. “Make you feel good.” He adds, pausing to glance up the length of you, finding your eyes focused on him. He can see your trepidation but also your burning curiosity and desire. “No one’s done that for you, have they?” He asks with no judgement.

Embarrassment burns through you, teeth sinking into your lower lip as you shake your head.

Hunter’s heart aches. How had no one loved on you before? Their loss was his gain, he supposed. “That’s okay.” He reassures you, pressing a kiss to the juncture where your thigh and hip meet. “Only if you want.” The reminder is gentle, fingers skirting back up your body to not put pressure on your decision.

You know you could say no, and that would be the end of it, but you’d seen many women enjoying it on the holonet, and they certainly seemed to like it in the novels you vicariously consumed. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try. “Please.” You push out the word, embarrassment still sitting in your chest, though it evaporates when you meet Hunter’s hungry gaze.

He hadn’t been expecting your agreement, content to work you up in other ways, but that soft little plea from your lips sent fire through his veins. Hands finding your thighs once more, Hunter slowly pushes them apart. “A little wider, baby.” He encourages, a deep groan vibrating in his chest as you follow his order, and he shifts to lay between your thighs, greeted with the prettiest pussy he’s ever seen. Dropping soft kisses to your inner thigh, his tongue darts out to wet his lips.

Eyes flitting up to gauge how you’re faring, his cock twitches where it’s trapped between his body and the mattress as he catches you watching him. Holding your gaze, he leans forward, nose pressing against you as he inhales, committing the intimate scent of you to memory.

He starts slow, a gentle press of his tongue against your entrance, dragging it up through your folds until his tongue flicks over your clit. You jolt, letting out a small keening noise that he’s desperate to hear again.

Spurred on, kitten licks accompany broad, sweeping tastes, soft open-mouthed kisses dropped against heated flesh as Hunter closes his eyes and focuses on bringing you pleasure. His tongue drags across your clit again, and he grunts as your fingers, tangled in his hair, try to drag his face impossibly closer.

You’d watched for as long as you could, engraving the sight of Hunter between your thighs into your mind. Head tilting back, eyes fluttering shut, warmth coils through you. Letting out low whimpers and quiet gasps, your hips rock, chasing the pleasure he’s so beautifully giving you. Now you understood the fuss, why all those women on the holonet and in the novels adored this.

Lips wrap around your clit, and your grip on Hunter’s hair tightens as the pleasure curling through your body climbs, the light suction and the rapid flick of his tongue across the sensitive bud pushing you ever closer to the edge. The warm wetness of his mouth was better than anything you’d ever been able to achieve with your fingers.

“Hunter.” You moan out his name, enjoying the groan he lets out in response. One of his hands slides up the bed, fingers interlacing with those on your free hand as he doubles-down his efforts.

Most of the time, Hunter considers his heightened senses a curse rather than a blessing, but right now, with the scent of you in his lungs, the taste of you on his tongue, and his name falling from your lips like a prayer, he’s never been more grateful for them. Tuning into your body, to every thud of your heart, every sharp inhale, and the little whines you let out, he uses them to guide him until you’re close, teetering on the edge.

Two fingers enter the mix, pressing against your entrance, slipping in with ease as Hunter laves kisses and licks across your folds. His lips find your clit again, applying light suction as he crooks his fingers right against that sweet little spot.

Caught off guard, you come with a cry, the noise echoing in the room as the pleasure that had been building crashes into you. Thigh’s quivering, tiny trembles coast through your body as you pant through the high, body going pliant as your release works out of your system.

Enraptured, the pride Hunter feels is undeniable as he pries his fingers from your pussy, sliding them into his mouth to clean them off and savour the taste of you even more.

Staring up at the ceiling as you drag your breathing under control, a small snort of laughter escapes you. “Oh, stars, you can do that again whenever you want.” You vow quietly, enjoying Hunter’s chuckle as he shifts back over you, capturing your lips for a deep kiss, the tang of you lingering in his mouth.

As Hunter pulls back, he rests on his knees between your thighs, soaking up the sight of you naked. He still can’t believe this is happening, that you’d chosen him.

Your gaze travels over his body – broad shoulders, firm chest, defined abs. He was gorgeous enough to be a carved statue in a fancy Naboo garden. Eyes roaming lower, you swallow at the sight of his cock. Hard and flushed, it twitches with his heartbeat, girthier than you’d expected.

“It’ll fit.” Hunter can’t resist teasing, tattooed hand shifting down so he can give himself a few lazy strokes. The way you watch the movement gives him ideas for the future. “Still want this, love?” He checks in.

Your earlier nervousness is still there, but it’s smothered by anticipation. Eyes flitting up, you meet Hunter’s gaze, parting your thighs just that little bit more.

Delight flares in Hunter’s eyes, and he moves to rest back over you, one hand supporting his weight as the other stays wrapped around his dick. Holding your gaze, he drags the velvety head between your slick folds, enjoying the way your breath stutters as he brushes against your clit.

“I’ve got you, princess.” He coos, lining up before pressing forward. “Doing so well.” Hunter praises, focused on your face and your body’s reaction as he bottoms out, hips flush to yours.

The sensation is unlike anything you’d experienced before. The stretch burns slightly but gives way quickly to pleasure as he feeds the last inch of his cock into your heat. Love and adoration weave through you, that earlier sense of rightness rearing its head as you squirm a little beneath him.

Hunter’s now free hand drops to your hip, grip firm as he holds you still. “Just…give me a second.” He murmurs, voice strained as his eyes close. “Been dreaming about this for a long time, and if I don’t take a few breaths here, I’m gonna kriffing embarrass myself.”

The revelation that he’s dreamt of this moment makes you involuntarily clench around him.

“Not helping…” He growls quietly, words lacking any bite. You feel like heaven, like everything he’s ever wanted and desired.

Mirth dances in your eyes as you lift a hand to trace along his inked jawline, still unable to comprehend that he wants you and that he’s buried inside you, the two of you connected in the most intimate of ways.

Dark eyes snap open at the contact, and Hunter takes you in, soaks in the sight of you sprawled underneath him, hair fanned on the pillow, lips plush from kisses and eyes still a little hazy from your orgasm. “Kriff, baby. I love that no one else has seen you like this, that no one else has felt you before, been inside you. They don’t get to have you, but I do.” He rasps, letting the last fragments of his feelings for you eke out of the box he’d kept them locked away in for far too long. “Feel so good wrapped around my cock.” He groans.

Hand leaving your hip, Hunter tilts your head back up as he sees it start to dip down. “Don’t go getting shy on me now.” He whispers. “Keep those pretty eyes on me.” He slowly draws his hips back, watching as your lips part and the sweetest sound slides from between them as he pushes himself back inside. Hunter takes his time, building up the pace, focusing on every noise you make, every shift of your body, every flutter of your heart.

With every roll of Hunter’s hips, that earlier pleasure starts to build again. Hands grasp at his sweat-dampened shoulders, providing leverage as you move with him, the harsh sounds of your breaths filling the room alongside the noise of your bodies meeting. The air feels hot, matching the heat inside you as Hunter’s lips crash against yours, devouring you. A whine escapes you as his tongue presses forward, tasting you. It’s unrefined and needy, his usual self-control long thrown out of the hotel room window.

“That’s it, baby, that’s it. You can give me one more. I know you can.” Hunter whispers against your lips, pulling back just enough to slide his free hand between your bodies, thrusts never faltering. Dragging his lips across your jaw, he peppers kisses down your throat as his fingers circle over your clit once, twice, and on the third round, he nips at your throat.

The building pleasure slams into you, tipping over into ecstasy as you cry out his name, back arching, and body clenching around him as the high washes through you. Panting for breath, nails digging into Hunter’s shoulders, you coast through the feeling, small shakes rocking your body as Hunter’s hips snap against yours a little roughly.

The way you’d tightened around him, the sound of you crying out his name in the throes of pleasure, it was all too much for Hunter. “Kriff, cyar’ika. Where?” He asks between ragged breaths, thrusts sloppy as he closes in on his own climax.

It’s probably a stupid idea and could go very wrong, but it’s the first one that comes to mind. And you’re desperate to experience it. “In me. Come in me. Please.” You insist.

Hunter crumbles for the second time this evening, unable to deny you anything, consequences be damned. A few more rough thrusts and he’s growling out your name, pressing himself into you as deep as he can get, lips finding yours for a passionate kiss as he finds his own release, cock twitching as he fills you.

His hips slow to a stop, and your kiss turns softer and more reverent as the haze of lust dissipates. Hands stroke across each other’s bodies reverently, lips parting as Hunter mouthes down your throat to the spot he’d nipped earlier, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your skin. He sucks lightly, just to leave the slightest mark, so faint that unless someone was standing right beside you, they wouldn’t see it.

Contentment curls through you, hand brushing Hunter’s hair, fingers snagging on his bandana. Feeling cheeky, you pry it off, wrapping it around your wrist, enjoying how his eyes darken.

“Playin’ with fire again, cyar’ika.” Hunter murmurs, lips moving up to ghost across the shell of your ear.

A smile paints itself on your lips. “If that was me getting burned, then tie me to a stake and call me a Nightsister.”

Hunter’s whole body shakes with his laughter, amusement shining in his pretty brown eyes. “Oh, one day I’ll tie you to something, don’t worry about that.” He vows.

A thrill shoots through you, your own laughter joining his. As it fizzles out and the room falls silent, you’re left staring into each other’s eyes.

“How’d you feel?” Hunter asks, slowly shifting you both down onto your sides. The movement has him slipping from you, and you wince a little. Hunter’s arms loop around you, drawing you close.

“Loved.” You answer honestly.

“Good.” Hunter smooths a hand across your hair, pushing it back from your face. He captures your lips for another soft kiss. “Because you are.” He shares as the kiss breaks.

Warmth sweeps across your cheeks again. He was getting too good at pulling this reaction from you. “As are you.” You reply, wanting to ensure he understands how much you care for him in return.

Hunter’s smile is blinding as he draws you closer, suffocating the space between you, tucking you safely under his chin. Burying his nose in your hair, he inhales deeply, picking up on your combined scent.

As the night draws on, the two of you lay entwined, finding comfort in the shared warmth of your bodies. The soft glow of the cityscape filters through the window, casting a gentle illumination in the room as you share quiet conversations.

As sleep begins to claim you both, you whisper a quiet promise into the stillness of the night. “No matter where the stars take us, I want to be with you.”

Hunter holds you a little tighter, kissing your forehead in silent agreement. Together, you drift into dreams, wrapped in the warmth of love and the certainty that, no matter what challenges awaited, you would face them together.

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mooonjin · 6 months

Text

Imagination - Pt. 2

Notes: heres part twooooo, i see a lot of you in my inbox AND the comments ectioln in part one that really like shy clones so hehe here it is THANKS COR PREVIOUS SUPPORT THO OMGGGG <3333

Pairing: Tech x gn!reader

Summary: What happens when Tech has nothing to do, has your voice stuck in his head, and has free time to himself?

Warnings/Tags: 18+ work!! minors shoo flyyyyy - kinda sub!Tech, m masturbation, minor dirty talk, fantasy thoughts ⁠—tell me if I've missed anything!

< Part One

"What's left on the list?" Echo peered over Hunter's shoulder, not needing much effort considering he's slightly taller.

"Rations, but most of the stalls have upped their price because of the Empire," Hunter sighed, his thumb rubbing over the little datapad precariously as his eyes scanned over the list.

As you handed Omega the little toy Hunter purchased for her, your wrist comm went off. Your eyes squinted for a millisecond, wondering why it was Tech that had only activated your channel and not the Batchers.

Initially, you heard nothing, just some static coming through due to the silence, "Tech? Hello?" The others began wandering off to the first stall to bargain the price for food. You followed them at a safe distance, still keeping them in your peripheral.

"Hey, Tech? Is everything okay?" Techs hand slid over his cock, completely oblivious about your worried voice coming through his wrist comm while he was... taking care of something.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you stared into the dull, green button on your wrist. Nothing had come through for a good two minutes and you genuinely began to worry immensely for Tech. In a small fit of panic, you walked towards the rest of the guys, about to alert them before you heard a muffled whimper.

Was he hurt? Was he being held hostage? Was someone imprisoning him? All of your questions were answered by the next noises you heard. A modulated, satisfied sigh followed by a needy moan which you assumed was Tech.

You immediately stopped in your tracks, only a few meters way from the Batchers. You quickly covered your wrist, doing your best to muffle the not-so-friendly noises. Unfortunately, you caught Hunters attention.

"Everything okay?" Hunters eyebrows furrowed, raising one slightly in confusion at your very awkward pose whilst covering your wrist. You mentally cursed yourself. Hiding this situation from him would be nearly impossible.

"All good! Uh, comm broke a bit so I'm trying to—y'know, fix it up! Yeah."

"Alright then." He did not look too convinced. As Echo waved off the marketeer, you sneakily fled into an empty alleyway. You'll catch up to them eventually, you just had some... business to take care of.

You gently uncovered your wrist comm, being met with the noises of what was definitely Tech moaning.

"Kriff..." Tech whimpered, his thumb swiping over his sensitive tip. His slick hand pumped his cock with the images of you, wearing his helmet, as he pounded you into his mattress. Oh, how your voice would sound, all modulated and muffled as his cock drilled into your warm cunt.

His hand sped up slightly, the other gently caressing his balls to give himself more stimuli. He lets out a hearty groan, the image of you pumping his cock spurs his mind. Wilder and more explicit scenarios fill his head.

You lean closer into your comm, trying to hear better.

"Not quite, not— ah... mmph, not yet..."

His whimpers drove you insane, your cunt clenching under your blacks. This was a public place so getting caught would either get you fined, judged by, commented at or even killed. Your ears were in heaven, the sound of Tech desperately getting himself off was music you've never heard before and you almost had front row seats to it.

"Need to slow down, ha, mhm..." His hand was slowly moving up the length of his cock, restraining himself from cumming to early. He was eager to draw this out considering the time he had before the rest of you came back. Tech was in a state of ecstasy, the pleasure shooting throughout his whole body, causing his abs to clench every once and a while.

After he felt his orgasm drop down a little, he continued his previous pace. A small pearl of precum sat on his tip. It looked enticing.

Tech was so sensitive. He hadn't gotten himself off in several rotations so edging was his worst enemy right now. A high-pitched whimper came through your wrist comm, the tone of the noise he usually used when he'd go on rambles.

You rubbed your thighs together. These civilian clothing's were constricting you, like you were boiling alive as you listened in.

"Ah! Gaah, mmm... ha, please," Tech didn't know what he was begging for. His breathing sped up, his gasps becoming more consistent as he felt his orgasm creep up on him again.

You had to bite your knuckles, trying to be silence yourself. Tech's moans fueled the fire burning in your core, your arousal building as well. You closed your eyes, now letting your imagination run wild.

Tech was playing with his sensitive tip, the overstimulation bringing him closer and closer to cumming. He groaned as his other hand slid up his chest to try out a new feeling he saw whilst watching a holofilm.

"Please touch my nipples, ah—mm! Kriff..." You almost opened your eyes, shocked to hear the filthy words come out of Tech's mouth.

The image of Tech twisting and pinching his nipple gave you butterflies. His light-brown, pink tipped nipples sitting on his chest that could be covered in multiple bite marks if you were there with him.

Techs hard cock was longing to cum. His hand pumping furiously under his tip, the spot which seemed to bring him to his climax. He was missing something, he continuously brought himself to the edge but he couldn't cum.

He bit his lip, frustrated and desperate.

That's when he finally traced back to your modulated voice coming through his wrist comm earlier.

"Mmm, gonna cum—!" His whimpers climbed in decibels, the comm picking up his climax, white spurts painting his lower abdomen and parts of his hand.

You clenched your fist your wrist comm sat on. You would do anything to see what you just heard. Techs short-breath gasps was all you heard before you opened your eyes. Your ears filled with the bustling noise of the town, realising you're sat in an alley.

You slowly stood up, your knees almost quivering as you peered behind the wall to see if you could spot the Batchers. By the time you began walking around to find them, Tech had cleaned himself up, changing into his blacks again and buckling back his cod pieces.

You heard the muddling noise of what was probably him picking up his abandoned wrist comm. You heard the click of the comm before a terrified gasp came through.

"Hello? Is this transmitting?" Your eyes widened. You had to play this off somehow.

"Tech, hey! What's up?" Your had to shove down any sort of stammer so your response wasn't suspicious.

"Oh, I was only curious if my comm device had broke, never mind then."

You panned your eyes, finally catching the Batchers at a food stall, "All good then, we'll be back soon." You immediately ended the transmission, saving yourself from further embarrassment.

You caught up with Hunter who had his arms crossed as he carefully observed Echo bargaining with the marketeer, Wrecker using his physique to intimidate him. Poor marketeer.

"And where have you been?" Hunters voice was low, his eyes staring you down.

"Got sidetracked, lucky I found you, huh?" You chuckled, covering up your ordeal in the alleyway a few meters back town. The littlest drops of sweat on your forehead caught Hunters eye, his expression hadn't changed, still not looking convinced.

That's until he gave you a shit-eating grin as if telling you, 'I know what you did'.

Curse the heightened sensed Sergeant.

Post-Notes: tyty for reading! hope you enjoyed a bunch!! im also aware that there r some ppl int his tag that didnt really register the @ so pls send me smth whether its my form or my ask telling me your exact user!!

~ ~ ~

@elsastoes @nekotaetae @lokigirlszendaya @imalovernotahater @backyard-bear @namesmox @littlecrowtime @urfriendlyneighbornightfury @thebomb-diggity @gt13tbbart @therealnekomari @dangraccoon @yourusername1

my taglist form!

#tech the bad batch #star wars #the bad batch #the bad batch x reader #tech x reader #clone trooper x reader #tbb #the bad batch smut #tbb tech #mooonjin #happy reading!!!

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tinywitchgoblin · 2 months

Text

Flowers

Tech x afab!reader everybody lives AU, spoilers season 2???

Word count: 2770

Warnings: NSFW minors begone, oral (f! receiving), p in v sex, mentions of f! masturbation, Tech being the king of consent

Summary: Tech gets you a bouquet of flowers with an… interesting meaning.

a/n: I’m back babyyyy also, I got these flower meanings from various websites, if these aren’t exactly right, oh well

You had been living on Pabu for over a year now, and you couldn’t help but look back on how your time on the island had been thus far. You had met Phee at one point when she was on Ord Mantell, and you and she had gotten along pretty well. Once you’d known her for a while and became more comfortable with her, you opened up about your living situation and your past, which… wasn’t great. She decided then and there that she would take you to Pabu, not giving you any advanced notice- only telling you to pack your stuff and get ready for a surprise. You had been a bit overwhelmed by the island atmosphere at first; it was like nothing you’d ever experienced before. Initially, you were suspicious of how perfect everything was, expecting something to go wrong eventually. However, as time passed, you became more relaxed, even making a couple of friends. Then they arrived.

They were unlike anyone you’d ever met before. They moved into the home next to yours, and you were very curious as to the nature of your new neighbors. After they’d settled in, Phee knocked on your door and asked if you would like to meet them. Before waiting for your response, she grabbed you and pulled you out the door over towards where two of them were talking to Shep.

You took a good look at them, a bit confused. They looked like soldiers, but didn’t look like they were here in any sort of official capacity. The one closer to Shep had shoulder length curly black hair with a red bandana and a skull tattooed on the left side of his face. The other one was a bit taller and had a scomp link where his right hand would be. Phee pulled you over and introduced you. The tattooed one introduced himself as Hunter and his companion as Echo. They seemed friendly enough, if a bit reserved. Not that you could complain; you were the same way, especially when you yourself had first arrived on Pabu.

After standing and talking for a bit, two others joined the conversation- a giant of a man with a scar on the left side of his face, and a girl who looked to be in her teens. Hunter introduced them as Wrecker and Omega. They both smiled and waved at you, Omega coming over to you and asking you about your experiences on Pabu thus far. You found that she was light, bubbly, and easy to talk to.

After you’d been talking to Omega for a while, you were about to go back to your home and do some work around the house, when one more person appeared. He was tall, lean, and wore goggles. He seemed engrossed in whatever he was looking at on his datapad before Phee went over and introduced the two of you. His name was Tech. You weren’t entirely sure why, but you immediately found yourself drawn to him. He seemed a bit stiff at first, but when you mentioned that you worked as an environmental scientist, the two of you began conversing about what that entailed- from analyzing the levels of various compounds in the water to studying marine life to tracking seismic activity. Normally, when you discussed work stuff, no one else understood most of what you were talking about, and you eventually learned how to dumb it down to the level of whoever was listening. That wasn’t the case with him.

He asked you all sorts of questions, some of which were even above your level, and you loved every bit of it. Finally, someone who you could connect with intellectually. The two of you stood there talking for a long time, before Hunter called Tech away to help with the moving in process. From that point on, the two of you became fast friends.

Soon after the group came to Pabu, Tech began joining you in your work. Having his knowledge and expertise in the field was invaluable, and you could tell he really enjoyed the work- as did you. Sometimes Omega would join as well, but that was usually when you were working with cute baby sea animals. The two of you became a very effective team.

After a couple of months, the two of you started to spend time together outside of working as well. Whether it was grabbing a bite to eat, going for a walk by the water, or strolling through one of the markets, you’d grown comfortable in each other’s company.

One day, you were resting at home on one of your days off when you heard a knock at your door. You opened it, and you saw Tech standing there with a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

“I saw these flowers as I was walking through the market earlier, and I, umm… well, they made me think of you,” he said shyly, handing them out to you. It was truly beautiful, with red roses, red camellias, red lilies, red tulips, and sweetpeas scattered throughout.

“Aww, Tech, these are beautiful! I really appreciate it,” you gushed. “Would you like to stay for a while? I’m almost done with dinner.”

“I would very much appreciate that, cyare,” he responded before stepping through the door frame and taking off his boots. You paused for a second, not recognizing the word, before brushing it off as Tech being Tech and moving towards the kitchen area. You grabbed the vase off of the small table in the kitchen, and removed the old flowers (Omega had picked them and given them to you!) before adding the new ones Tech had just given you. He went around to the stove to see what you were making, taking a whiff and humming in approval. He was quiet, which was unlike him, and he seemed to be fidgeting more than usual. You sat down at the table next to him, wanting to make sure he was okay. “Is everything okay? You seem nervous,” you queried.

“Oh, yes, I am doing well. Just a bit preoccupied, I suppose,” he responded, a bit rushed.

“Tech… You seem off. Is there something on your mind?”

“Of course there is something on my mind, cyare, there is always something on my mind. In fact, there are very few instances in which there is nothing occupying my thoughts,” he clarified, though there still seemed to be something off. There that word was again- cyare. It sounded like a nickname of sorts, but you couldn’t tell.

“That word you just said- what does it mean?” you questioned.

“What word?”

“The one you just said- I think it started with a ‘c’?” you clarified.

“Oh, um… well…” he hesitated, almost seeming to psych himself up. “Cyare. That is what I called you. In Mando’a, it means ‘beloved’, though it can be used in several different contexts. It can be used as a term of endearment for a loved one, though it can also be used for someone who is well-known, although-”

“Tech. Did you just… did you just call me your beloved?” you whispered.

“I… yes, I did,” he confirmed. “I have had feelings for you ever since we arrived on Pabu, but I was never able to muster the courage to be this forward about the situation. If I have made you uncomfortable, or if you do not share my feelings, I fully understand if you would want to keep your distance in the future-”

You paused him by putting your hands over his, which were now almost shaking. You could tell how nervous he was. “Tech, I have feelings for you as well, and I was hesitant about bringing it up as well. I didn’t want to stress you out.” You laughed to yourself a bit before continuing, “I guess I didn’t have anything to worry about.”

He seemed to relax a bit before adjusting his goggles and asking you, “Given that we have established our mutual feelings of attraction, would it be too forward if I asked your interest in the two of us starting a romantic relationship?”

“Of course it wouldn’t be too forward, how else would you ask me?” you ask, intentionally leaving room for him to fully state his intentions.

“In that case… would you like to be romantically involved? With me?” he professed, looking into your eyes. You gazed back at him and said, “Absolutely. I would love it, just as I love you.”

You took his face into your hands and rubbed your thumbs against his cheeks; he melted into your touch.

“Cyare, may I kiss you?” he added.

“Yes, Tech, you may,” you giggled before closing the gap between the two of you and pressing your lips to his. This first kiss was light and a bit hesitant, but soon you both relaxed into it, exploring each other but still keeping things relatively tame. After a little while, you remembered that you were still in the middle of making dinner, so you pulled away, gave him one last peck on the cheek, and moved back over to the stove to check on the soup you had simmering away. You decided that it was done to your satisfaction, ladling some into two bowls and placing them on the table. You grabbed the loaf of bread you had sitting on the counter and brought that over as well. Dinner was uneventful, save for the glances you both stole at each other and the occasional shy smile. Glancing back at the flowers, you asked, “What made you choose those flowers specifically?”

“Well, some cultures assign specific meanings to various flowers, so I wanted to make sure what I chose reflected my intentions. These flowers represent passion, love, romance, desire, and pleasure, and those are things I desire to give to you,” he asserted.

“So, if I’m understanding this correctly, you gave me a bouquet of flowers that means you want to have sex with me?” you clarified.

“That is certainly one way of putting it, yes. I do find you sexually attractive and desire to be intimate with you. Only if you consent, of course,” he added. You blushed profusely before responding, “I would love to. I’ve wanted that for a long time. Did you have a timeline in mind?”

“Well, not exactly, but… I have no objections to doing so tonight,” he proposed, a blush creeping across his cheeks as well. You clenched your thighs at the thought of being intimate with him. Little did he know, there were nights where you would get yourself off solely to the thoughts of his fingers (or certain other parts of him) between your legs, and the notion that such dreams could become reality brought heat to your body.

“Let’s finish dinner first, but then I’m all yours,” you affirmed. The rest of dinner went by quickly in anticipation of what was to come. When everything was cleaned up, you led him to your bedroom and closed the door. Before you could turn around, he grabbed you and brought his lips to yours in a passionate kiss. You kissed him back with equal intensity, allowing your hands to roam around his body. He curled one hand around your lower back, and carded the other into your hair. He backed you up until your thighs hit the back of the bed.

“Y/n, please let me know if you are feeling discomfort at any time. I want to ensure that you are feeling nothing but pleasure,” he murmured into your mouth.

“Tech, dear, please, I need you so badly,” you begged, desperate to feel his hands against your skin. He pulled your top and breast band off before kissing down to your chest and laving at the skin there, leaving marks only he would see. It was your turn to run your fingers through his hair, marveling at how soft his curls were. You briefly thought to ask him later what products he uses, but he brought your attention back to the present by picking you up and lowering you down to the bed, laying you so that your head was resting on the pillows. He kissed down your torso before running his fingers under the seams of your pants, a silent request for you to lift your hips so that he could remove the offending clothing separating him from his prize. As he removed your pants and panties, he kissed up your legs, taking his sweet time with you. He wanted to memorize every inch of your beautiful body.

Eventually, he reached the apex of your thighs, pushing them apart to reveal your wetness to him. He looked up at you and asked, “Cyare, may I-”

“Tech, please, I need this,” you begged. “I need you.” He wasted no time, licking a stripe up your folds, drawing a moan. You covered your mouth with your hand, but he grabbed it and held it, resting it against your stomach. “Let me hear those beautiful noises; there is no need to cover such a melodious sound.” He turned his attention back to your wetness, moving his tongue in such a way as to have your thighs quaking around his head and you grinding against his face. Once he felt that you were sufficiently lubricated, he slipped a finger inside you, moving it in the “come hither” motion that you had so often dreamed of him doing. Soon he added a second, and used a scissoring motion to open you up for him. The last thing he wanted was to cause you any undue discomfort later on.

Before too long, you started to feel your orgasm building, and your moans increased in volume. “Tech, I’m gonna…”

“That’s it, cyare, come for me,” he mouthed against your sex. Everything felt so good, so right, and soon you came- hard. Your body thrashed around, unable to contain the pleasure that he was providing. He worked you through your orgasm, only stopping when you pulled his head away from you. He kissed his way up your body before reuniting his lips with yours. You pulled at his collar, and he backed away to disrobe. Once he had removed all barriers between his skin and yours, he climbed back onto the bed and settled on top of you, pushing your thighs apart once more. When he was undressed, he grabbed a biosheath, and he proceeded to apply it before looking at you and asking once more, “Do you want this? We can stop now if you need to.”

“No, I want this. I need this. I need you,” you declared, reaching down to stroke his length a few times, him thrusting into your hand. Tech lined himself up with your sex and rubbed himself up and down your slit a few times before slowly entering you, not wanting to cause any pain or discomfort, but your face showed nothing but pleasure. You gasped, not realizing how big he was until he was inside you. Once he was fully seated inside you, he rested there for a moment and you brought his head down into a searing kiss. After a moment or so, he pulled out a bit and thrusted back in, causing your head to roll back. He picked up the pace a bit, and you grabbed onto his shoulders for support. In that moment, everything felt so good, so right, and there was nothing else in the galaxy but the two of you and the love you were making. This was not the time for roughness, but for gentleness and sweet, slow sex.

Tech felt your heat drawing him in and he reached between you to rub on your bundle of nerves, making you clench around him. You lifted your hips, timing the movements of your body with his, and soon, you were coming again, pleasure rushing over you like a tidal wave. You clung onto him for dear life as he worked you through your orgasm. You could tell he was close, too, his thrusts becoming rougher and more erratic, before he came as well. Exhausted, he lowered his body next to yours, pulling out slowly due to your oversensitivity. The two of you lay in silence for a moment before Tech whispered, “I love you, cyare. I love this, and I want so much more of it.”

You pulled back to look at him before responding, “I couldn’t agree more.” After some time, he got up to get you some water and a cloth to clean you up with, and when he opened the bedroom door, you saw the flowers that started it all, still sitting in the kitchen.

#tech bad batch #tech x reader #tbb tech x reader #tbb tech x reader smut #tech x reader smut #the bad batch #tbb smut #tbb x reader smut #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars x reader smut

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dindjarindiaries · 1 year

Text

When a House Becomes a Home

summary: A new home brings new responsibilities, and there’s only one person who can teach Din how to cook a proper meal: you.

pairing: din djarin (the mandalorian) x reader

contains: food, domesticity, fluff

rating: T

word count: 3.833k

main masterlist • din djarin masterlist

Din sighs as he looks over your shoulder at the datapad in your hand. “I didn’t realize cooking would take as much effort as a job,” he confesses, his modulated voice laced with amusement. He points at the vidscreen. “That’s a long list.”

“What you put into it is what you get out of it,” you insist. You gesture to the cabin from where you stand in the threshold. “I’m not letting our first meal in this home be mediocre.” You give his armored shoulder a playful nudge. “And I know you love a good side quest.”

Din tilts his helmet at you. “Only with a good partner by my side.” He sets a gloved hand upon your back. “Come on, riduur. The sooner we leave, the sooner we can get back.”

Grogu’s pod floats at Din’s other side as he starts to lead the way into town. You glance at him with an eyebrow raised. “Are you becoming a homebody already?”

Din shrugs, his fingers giving your back a thoughtful tap. “We’ve been traveling the galaxy for many years.” He swings his helmet to look at you. “A night of rest sounds pretty tempting after that.”

“Well, this shouldn’t take too long.” You look over the list of ingredients on your datapad again. “You’re a bounty hunter, after all. Just pretend everything on this list is a quarry you have to find.”

Din huffs at your words. “Like I said before.” He gestures with his helmet to your datapad. “It’s a job.”

You lean close to his visor. “With a delicious payout.” You tuck your datapad on your belt and take his hand from your back, lacing his gloved fingers with yours. “If you cook as well as you make an argument, this will be the best meal of your life.”

Din chuckles at that and gives your arms an embarrassed swing. You laugh and bring yourself closer to his side as you continue closing the distance towards the heart of Nevarro.

It’s easy for Din to navigate the bazaar, even after all this time. He’d spent many years on planet before your travels together began, and despite how much it’s changed since then, Din seems confident in the way he strides towards the merchant’s booths. You release his hand to take the empty knapsack off your shoulder and hold it towards him. “Do you mind helping me collect our items?”

“Sure.” Din nods and takes the knapsack from you, holding it between his gloved hands as you reach for your datapad and reference your list. “Where are we headed first?”

You show him the list and let him glance over it. “We’ll need to find a butcher, a flora stand, and…” you hesitate as you see more of the random ingredients, “I guess we just need to look everywhere.”

“Sounds like a challenge.” Din tightens his grasp on the knapsack and gives his helmet a quick tilt. “I like it.” He pats your shoulder and looks to the way ahead. “Let’s do it.”

You and Din work together to make your way through the booths and collect the freshest versions of everything you need. The hardest challenge is keeping Grogu from eating both your product and the merchants’, one that Din handles for the most part while he lets you make the selections. For once, credits are easy to come by, thanks to Greef Karga’s generosity. The gratitude of the Nevarro citizens helps when they recognize Din and the role he had to play in saving their city.

The walk back to your cabin is even quicker than before. Din keeps the knapsack slung over one of his shoulders and his hand has found its way into yours again. There’s almost a skip in his step that you can’t help smiling at.

“Someone’s excited to get in the kitchen,” you observe, your fond grin only growing.

“I’m holding on to a bag full of food.” Din lifts his elbow to lightly jostle the knapsack. “I’m just ready to have something other than rations.”

You chuckle and wait for Din to take the keycard from his belt. He unlocks the cabin door and pushes the button to open it for you. With a nod, you thank him and walk inside first, taking a deep breath as you look around the space that’s set to become your home. The door slides closed after Din enters with Grogu’s pod and he stands just behind your shoulder, as if he’s also taking in your surroundings. You look at him and watch as he lifts both hands to remove his helmet, his brown gaze shining as the corners of his lips gently tug up in a small smile.

“I’m… still not used to it,” Din confesses, his natural voice always a welcome surprise. “It’s much different than the tunnels and the Crest.”

You turn to face him and ease the knapsack from his shoulder. “Then let’s start to make it feel more like home.” You press a hand upon Din’s cuirass. “Make yourself comfortable and I’ll get everything prepped. Okay?”

Din nods, his gaze full of wonder as his eyes search yours for a long moment. Your hand rises to the side of his face as you press a kiss upon his cheek, sending him off with a gentle tap against his skin. You hoist the knapsack onto your shoulder and take Grogu out of the pod, setting him down in the living area with the shift knob from the Crest to keep him busy. He coos with delight and begins to entertain himself, allowing you to focus on preparing the kitchen.

Greef had been kind enough to make sure the cabin was fully furnished, and that included supplies for cooking. You smile to yourself in gratitude as you set the recipe on the datapad in front of you and take out whatever you need. The ingredients are arranged in a way that makes sense, especially for someone as organizational as Din. You pause to check on Grogu every once in a while, watching as he plays catch with himself using his powers.

Din catches you in the midst of one of these moments, his presence adding an even warmer glow to the room as you turn your head to look at him. He’s reduced himself to his pants and the black tunic he wears underneath his flight suit, his suspenders hanging loosely at his sides. His attention is focused on Grogu’s play even as he continues making his way towards you.

“It’s good that he knows how to keep himself busy,” Din states, setting his weight on one hip as he reaches your side. You nod, unable to speak thanks to the overwhelming flutters within your chest. He turns to look at you and raises an eyebrow at your silence. “What is it?”

You beam and shake your head. “Nothing.” You focus back on the preparations in front of you. “Okay, the first thing we should do is roast the flora.” You take the bunches of the flora and offer a few to Din. “Can you help me cut these?”

Din nods, though he hesitates before he accepts them. “Wait.” He goes to the water pump and washes off his hands, making you bite back a smile. Din’s always been adamant about his cleanliness, that of himself as well as his weapons and armor. He returns and gently takes the flora from you. Once he sets it down, you offer him a small knife. “How should I cut it?”

“Into small pieces.” You demonstrate a few for him, pausing to make sure he’s gotten it.

Din copies your work and lifts the small piece in his hand for you to see. “Like this?”

You grin and nod at him. “Perfect.” You turn your focus back to the flora and speak as you work. “You’re well on your way to becoming an expert.”

Din scoffs. “This is just the first step, cyar’ika.” He adds his pieces to the place where you’ve been setting your own. “You’re being too kind.”

You release a soft laugh. “All I’m saying is that a lot of cooking is cutting things.” You gesture with your knife to his work. “And you’ve got that down pat.”

“With all of my vibroblade training, you’d hope I would.”

You give his shoulder a gentle nudge and giggle when he gives you one in return. You finish right before Din does, though he takes his last piece and walks away with it. Your brow furrows as you watch Din bring it over to Grogu, offering it to the little one with a small smile. Grogu coos in gratitude and eats it as if he’s never had a meal before. Din stands from where he’d been kneeling and returns to you.

“The flora has been Grogu approved.” Din brushes his hands together and sets them on his hips. “What’s next?”

You turn to the datapad with an amused smile. “An efficient and eager learner.” You steal a quick look at him. “Your metrics in the kitchen are panning out to be quite high.”

Din’s face turns the slightest shade of pink and he shrugs. You take a vial of oil and offer it to him. He accepts it, though his gaze never leaves you as he awaits his instructions.

“Drizzle this over the flora.” Din nods and opens the vial. “It’ll be ready to roast once we toss it.”

Din pours some of the oil out and stops abruptly. He turns to look at you. “Was that too much?”

You shake your head. “No, no. That’s fine.”

Din closes the vial and sets it down. “It came out faster than I expected.”

“That can tend to happen.” You reach your hands forward to toss the flora in the oil. Once it’s all covered, you gesture to the fireplace and spit. “Can you get a fire going so we can roast it while I wash my hands off?”

Din nods and disappears from the kitchen for a moment. You watch in confusion until he returns with his vambrace on. You can’t help chuckling when he bends down to the tinder and gently engages his flamethrower, getting the small fire started in no time. He stops as he walks by you washing your hands off. “Is ‘use what you’ve got’ a rule of the kitchen?” He gestures to the vambrace on his arm.

You grin at him. “It absolutely is.”

Din returns your smile before he leaves to set his vambrace back in the bedroom. He comes back and exhales, rolling up his sleeves. “The warmth of that fire works quickly.”

“That’s why we’ve got to do the same.” You take a protective glove and use it to set the flora and its container on top of the spit. “The flora will roast fast, and when it’s halfway done, we’ve got to add this tip-yip.”

“Understood.” Din gestures to the meat you’ve already set out. “What can I do?”

You take one of the two pieces of tip-yip and hand it to him. “Can you guess?”

Din chuckles and raises his knife. “Cut it into small pieces?”

You nod and lean closer to him. “You’re catching on.” You give his cheek a kiss and watch as it burns a deeper red this time. “They don’t have to be too small, though.” You demonstrate one strip for him. “Like this.”

Din nods and once again tries to mirror your work. “Is there something else to do with it after?” Din steals a quick glance at you. “At the covert, we just used to throw it on a spit and call it a day.”

“I figured as much, and that’s okay, too.” You point with your knife to a collection of herbs. “Your covert eats for health and nourishment, but we’re cooking mostly for flavor. We’re gonna use that to season it.”

“That sounds nice.” Din’s voice is only slightly strained as he goes on. “I think… my parents used to do that, too.”

You stop what you’re doing and set your full attention on him. His brow is slightly knit as he continues cutting the tip-yip, though he’s quick to finish and return your gaze. He catches your concern and offers a reassuring nod as he sits his hand over one of yours.

“Don’t worry. It’s a good thing.”

You smile and return his nod, exhaling a soft breath as you finish with your piece. You reach for the herbs and other seasonings and set them between you and Din. “All it needs is a few sprinkles of all of these.”

As you finish each one, you hand it off to Din, letting him do the same to his share. Once it’s all distributed, you toss it just as you had with the flora. You take a moment to look at Grogu as you work, though he’s still busying himself with the shifter knob that he tosses into the air over and over again.

“Now that it’s all combined,” you start, taking both your share as well as Din’s and adding it to a transfer plate, “we can add it to the flora. But first…” You trail off, lifting your season-covered hands for Din to see.

“I was hoping you’d say that.” Din smiles and races you to the water pump. You laugh as you try to push him aside and he chuckles as he does the same to you. He ends up taking your hands and washing them for you, letting you dry them off while he does the same for himself. Din takes the initiative under your lead in wearing the protective glove and transferring the tip-yip over to the roasting flora. “It already smells good.”

You raise your brow as he sets down the plate and the glove. “How good?”

Din tilts his head at you as if he’s still wearing his helmet. “Really good.”

“Well, you know what?” You step towards him and set your hand on his chest. “It’s gonna taste even better.” You keep your hand where it is as the other reaches around Din and finds the long, metal tongs. “We ought it to keep it from burning, though.” Din huffs and nods in agreement. “Would you like to do the honors?”

Din takes the tongs from you. “I’d be honored.”

You walk with him over to the fire and watch as he gently tosses the roasting food around. “That makes sense for a man as honorable as yourself.”

Din looks at you with an eyebrow raised. “That’s a lot of ‘honors.’”

You chuckle and shrug at him before you cross your arms over your chest. “I mean, I did ask if that was what you wanted.”

Din’s lips start to curl up in a smile as his gaze returns to the food. “I’m trying to focus, cyar’ika.”

“That’s just another rule of cooking.” You come closer to him, hooking a finger on the collar of his tunic to press a soft kiss to the side of his neck. “Multitasking.”

Din’s head whips around to face you, his brown gaze a sweet warning. “I can multitask.” He gives you a once-over. “What you’re trying to do is kill me.”

You laugh, not expecting him to say such a thing. “Din!” You brace yourself against his shoulder. “That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

Din gestures with his head to the roasting food. “I’m tending to food on an open fire and you’re over here doing…” he hesitates, glancing in Grogu’s direction, “that.” He turns his attention back to the tip-yip and flora. “You know you’re my biggest threat.”

You smile at him. “Sure.” You step away to begin setting the table while Din finishes cooking the food. Grogu jumps up from where he’s been playing and coos with interest. You give his head a gentle pat. “Would you like to help, Grogu?”

Grogu nods and babbles. You hand him three utensils.

“Set one of these next to every plate.” Grogu nods and follows you around the table. You’ll set down a plate and he’ll put a utensil next to it. Once you’ve both finished, you brush your hand over his head. “Very good. You made it look so nice.”

Grogu lifts his ears in joy at your praise. You leave him to return to Din in the kitchen. He gives you a quick glance. “I think it’s ready,” he informs you.

You observe the tray and nod. “I think you’re right.” You hand him the protective glove. “Can you distribute it to the plates?”

Din nods and slides the glove on. “I’ve got it.” He gestures with his head to the table. “You and Grogu just lay low.”

You beam at him before you obey his soft request. When you reach the table, Grogu points to a specific plate, making you giggle as you sit there. “Thanks for helping me choose.”

Grogu nods and sits by another plate. He leaves one in between you two for Din, a thought that only makes your smile grow. Din remains careful when he joins you and distributes the meal as evenly as he can, knowing full well that Grogu can eat just as much as the two of you—if not more. Once he’s finished, Din sets his supplies down in the kitchen and joins you and Grogu at the table. He glances at his plate in hunger, yet he still nods at you. “It’s time for you to do the honors,” Din insists.

You know better than to argue with him. You take the first bite and smile in pure content. From the flavors to the memory of its preparation, everything about this first meal in your new home is perfect. “I think you’re gonna like it,” you say, gesturing to Din’s plate with your utensil.

Both he and Grogu try it for themselves. Grogu’s ears rise on his head as he goes on to start devouring it while Din gives you an impressed raise of his brow. “Riduur.” He points at his plate. “You were on to something with this.”

“I told you,” you remind him with a smile. “What you put into it is what you get out of it.”

Din takes another bite and returns your smile. “Then this was a job well done.” He enjoys more of his meal before he goes on. “You were right. The payout is delicious.” Din turns his attention to Grogu. “Isn’t it, buddy?”

Grogu offers a sleepy coo from where he sits with his plate already empty. You laugh as you and Din take your time finishing up your own meals. By the time you’re all set, Grogu’s completely asleep, satisfied with a full stomach and the warmth of the cabin. “I’ll get him to bed,” you assure him as you stand from your seat. “We’ll clean up when I’m done.”

Din nods, giving Grogu’s sleeping head a gentle tap before you carry the little one away to his own room. You tuck him into his pod and give his wrinkly head a soft kiss, imagining the day when you’ve finally gotten him a more comfortable bed of his own to have apart from his pod. You close his door and heave a soft breath as you make your way back to the living area and the kitchen.

You stop short when you see Din’s already cleared the table and is cleaning up on his own.

“Din Djarin,” you scold him, though your lips have already started curling up into yet another grin. Din’s brow furrows as he watches you approach. “I thought I said we’d clean up when I was done!”

“I’ve got it,” Din insists, stepping between you and the dirty dishes. “You planned all of this out and did most of the heavy lifting.” He nods at you. “Let me clean it.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Fine.” Din slowly turns back to what he was doing, giving you the window to reach for a cloth and try to make a dash for the table. Din’s Mandalorian reflexes are too quick and he captures your waist before you can get anywhere. You squeal with laughter and shock as he pulls you away.

“Come on, Din!” you plead, still laughing as he wrestles with you. “Just let me wipe down the table!”

“No.” Din lifts you and sets you upon the nearest countertop. He lifts a finger to point at you like he often does with Grogu. “Stay here and rest until I’m done.” Still, his chivalry can’t allow him to stop there. “Please.”

You let out a dramatic exhale, despite the way you’re beaming at him. “All right.” You take the cloth and set it over his shoulder. “But only just this once.”

Din starts to smile as he nods at you. “Understood.” He goes back to the washing he was doing and you watch him with fond eyes. He’s already put out the fire, but the ghost of its warm glow remains. This night is just the first of many, whenever you and Din aren’t on a job. It’s a safe place where you can come back to time and time again instead of finding whatever’s available. There’s no need for blasters, armor, or any kind of self-defense. It’s something of your own creation, and tonight, you’ve already started a perfect ritual.

This house has finally become a home.

You wrap your arms around yourself as you keep watching Din move around your home. He takes the cloth from his shoulder and wipes down the table. It’s so inefficient for you to be sitting here, but that’s not the point. Things don’t have to be rushed anymore. They can be comfortable and caring, which is exactly what Din is doing for you.

You lose yourself in these thoughts until Din finishes and approaches you again. His brow is slightly furrowed as he unravels your arms and sets his hands upon your waist. “Are you okay?”

You rest your arms on his shoulders, letting your fingers hang loosely behind his neck. “I’m the best I’ve ever been.”

Din starts to smile at that. “Good.” He leans his forehead against yours, taking a moment to breathe in the moment before he goes on. “Well, we’ve made our meal and we’ve enjoyed it.” He circles his jaw with a raise of his eyebrow. “Do you know what that means?”

You don’t speak, instead letting Din answer his question for himself.

“It’s time for dessert.”

You laugh and Din absorbs it with a long-awaited kiss, one that prepares you for something much more sweet and indulgent than anything you could’ve ever dreamed of whipping up in the kitchen.

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#my first addition to the cabin lore and i promise it's sweet #din djarin #the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian spoilers #dindjarindiaries

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moodymisty · 1 year

Note

I always imagined Cross' eyes to be sensitive and get strained sometimes and when they do he'd turn into a teddy bear or smth he'd just want to cling to you and bury his face into your shoulder to keep the light away while so needy for cuddles or hugs and his squad is just like

🕴 that our Cross?? (bc before he met reader if his eyes got strained hed be the most grumpy gremlin his brothers have ever met)

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's Note: This is so cute!! I love the idea that Crosshair has eyes just as or close to as good as Hunter's thanks to his enhancements

Summary: Crosshair might be a loner but even he knows that sometimes tender loving care is what works best.

Relationships: Crosshair/Gn!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of sensory overload, fluffy, Crosshair being a grumpy little shit that needs cuddles,

-Hey. You busy?

Looking over at your datapad you see a message from Hunter, before glancing back at your computer. Hunter knows damn well that you're always busy, it's more so a matter of if you're too busy to sneak away and do whatever he has in mind.

Well, your work is practically done, so you'll message back in a few minutes once you're free. Because you know damn well that once you start with them, you'll be roped into whatever mess is currently happening. Before you have a chance to finish however, Hunter gives some much needed context to his earlier message. Not too much, however.

-Come here and help deal with Crosshair.

Since when did you become the resident sniper tamer?

Though Hunter knows you well enough, as even though you don't respond, you quickly finish up what you've been working on before getting up. Their barracks are a good ways across the base so it's a decent walk, enough that you can send a quick message.

-On my way.

Part of you is curious what in the galaxy could warrant such am urgent sounding message from Hunter; Though you'd probably never be able to hazard a guess. Hunter doesn't respond, largely because he knows you'll be there the moment he does. Their barracks are a good ways out of the way, but the walk isn't that far. Tech has it timed, actually; In another odd random bit of knowledge he has stored away in the brain of his.

It seems this time you were particularly speedy, as he's a few seconds off when you arrive, the door opening. The moment you enter you can feel the tension, as everyone hovers around the center of the room. Hunter comes up to you, and you whisper:

"What happened?" Looking over to see Crosshair on his bunk, with everyone glancing his way, but attempting to be subtle about it. His hand is pressing against his eyes and forehead, hard enough that he surely can't see very well. Hunter fills you in with the only word that is necessary.

"Flashbang." Oh no.

You know Crosshair's eyes are incredibly sensitive much like Hunter's, which also makes him very sensitive to things like bright lights. The two of them are the main reason why they have the lights in all their barracks, and the Marauder, dimmed so low.

Tech is hovering close by, the closest that the Batch has for a medic keeping an eye on a fuming Crosshair. Wrecker comes closer to check and gets venom spit at him, before he presses his hand back onto his face.

While his brothers are concerned and wanting to help, hovering and asking constantly if he's ok are both things that don't work intermingled with someone like Crosshair. You know that he just wants pitch black, and silence that's just as deep as possible.

Sighing softly you step away from Hunter, walking over to his bunk. You don't say anything, just sit on the edge and gently put your hand on his shoulder. You've delt with this Crosshair before, so you have a decent idea of what helps and what doesn't.

Within a few minutes he pulls you closer to him, forcing you to lean back more until you're partly laying down. He wraps his arms around your body, as his face presses against the black of your shirt above your chest but below your shoulder; Wrecker groaning and walks by yelling:

"Hey! Keep it clean, we're still here!" Wrecker jokes, laughing loudly.

Crosshair's hand quickly darts out to get a piece of Wrecker, who deftly dodges it.

"Fuck off."

He feels your hand gently on the back of his head, fingers playing with the short hair at the nape of his neck. His arms tighten around your ribs even more. His head is throbbing so much he doesn't care how he looks, or that what his brothers are saying isn't actually insulting. He'll just act like it is, and bite at them none the less. In a bit he'll be back to normal, but for now he'll indulge.

It's hard to believe that you've actually been a positive influence on his overall attitude, until you have times like this.

"Just leave him alone, Wrecker." Echo quietly speaks up from across the room, where he's cleaning dirt from the inner seams of his armor pieces.

You kind of wish you'd brought your datapad with you in hindsight, as now that Crosshair has you trapped, you have one hand completely empty as the other lays on the back of his head. It's also a little boring, just watching his brothers go about their individual work as quiet as possible.

A few months ago Crosshair would've never even considered doing anything remotely similar to this, but thankfully his edges have been buffed just the tiniest, tiniest little fraction.

You remember a long while back Crosshair had muttered that he didn't deserve you, and while you had vehemently denied the notion, he didn't seem to take it entirely to heart. You only hope these sorts of gestures help reassure him, relaxing with him as the thumping of his headache ever so slowly goes away.

Join the taglist here: @seriowan @simp-legend @nekotaetae @chad-something @coffeyorky @merkitty49 @lokigirlszendaya @totesnothere04 @get-wr3ckered @rebel-finn @mandoloriancookie @therealnekomari @loverofclones @notthatfanfictionwriter @lucyysthings @jennrosefx @fxlsealarm @crosshairs-wife @sinfulsalutations

#the bad batch crosshair x reader #Crosshair/Reader #tbb x reader #the bad batch x reader #crosshair x reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting

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vodika-vibes · 2 months

Text

Did You Know? - A Request from @wax-birds

Summary: You've been the Batch's medic since well before the Jedi Purge happens, and it just made sense to stick with them when they defected. Recently, Tech's been going out of his way to tell you random facts, and at first you were confused, but you're starting to understand what his game is.

Pairing: TBB Tech x F!Reader

Word Count: 1618

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: I hope this is close to what you wanted. I made up the planet, but I think the bird is an actual thing in the Star Wars verse...I didn't actually do any research, lol.

“Did you know,” You lift your gaze from your datapad to look at Tech, who’s standing awkwardly in the door to your area of the marauder, “the Morai birds mate for life and should their mate pass they remain in the nest waiting for them to return.”

“I…was not aware of that.” You say, “I also didn’t know that you were interested in the mating practices of birds.”

“Ah, well,” He nervously rubs the back of his neck, “I am interested in a wide range of topics.”

Amusement lifts your lips into a smile, “And your fixation for the week is birds?” You tease very gently.

“They are very brightly colored.” Tech offers, “And are native to the planet we are about to visit.” He hesitates, “And I remembered that you have a Morai tattoo.”

“Aww, Tech.” You clasp your hands under your chin, “You’re sweet, learning things about my favorite animals simply because they’re my favorite.”

“I…well, not solely for you. Omega had questions-”

“I DID NOT!” Omega shouts from the next room.

Tech ignores her with the long practice of an older brother, “And then I remembered your tattoo-”

Omega appears next to him, her face is scrunched up, “Stop lying! You looked that stuff up specifically-mmph!” Tech slaps his hand over Omega’s mouth, stopping her from talking.

“Thank you, Omega.”

Your gaze flickers from the annoyed preteen, to Tech, and then back again. “Well then, if neither of you are injured, I need to get back to work.”

Omega pulls Tech’s hand away from her mouth, “Tech just hit me!”

“I did no such thing.”

“I have bruises!”

“You do not.”

“I want you to arrest him!” Omega declares dramatically as she points at her brother.

“I’m a medic, Meg, not a cop.” You reply with a small grin, “You want someone to punish him for hitting you, go to Hunter.”

“Maybe I will!” Omega says loudly, before she rounds on her heel, “Hunter!”

“Why would you tell her that?” Tech asks with a sigh.

You wink at him, “Well, if you get hurt, it means that you get one on one attention, doesn’t that sound fun?”

Tech averts his eyes, but a small smile lifts the corner of his lips, “I suppose it does not sound…awful.” He finally says as he catches your gaze, for a moment, just a moment, there’s something hot and needy in his gaze, before it’s quickly banked, and he turns away from you. “I will leave you to your work. We will be landing on Mora in three days.”

You know your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you. You know what you saw. And you are very, very interested.

And so you flash a small smile, even as a plan starts forming in your mind, “I’ll be ready.”

Tech glances at you one more time, and then slips out of your workspace just as Hunter shouts for him, and you muffle your laugh. Sometimes, a lot of times, the men you travel with are so obviously brothers that it’s hilarious.

In fact, you’re pretty sure you heard Echo and Wrecker arguing over Wrecker stealing some of Echo’s snacks only a little bit ago.

Still, you wouldn’t trade this job for any other medical career in the galaxy.

After all, where else would an incredibly handsome man flirt with you using bird facts?

Three days later, the Marauder lands on Mora, and you, with your medical kit slung over your shoulder, and your camera in hand, couldn’t be more excited.

“Alright,” Hunter says, getting everyone’s attention. “It looks like we have five different places we need to visit.”

“It’ll be faster if we split up,” You offer reasonably, “Using the buddy system, of course.” You add once you see the look on Hunter’s face. “And naturally, I won’t be paired off with Omega, since we’re both harmless.”

“I have a crossbow,” Omega reminds you with a pout.

“Ah, right. My mistake.”

“So that means you’re the only one here who’s harmless.” Echo teases as he bumps you with his shoulder.

“Yeah, well…before all else, do no harm, etc, etc-” You reply with a grin, as you bump him right back.

“Anyway,” Hunter interrupts, “Splitting up and using the buddy system isn’t a terrible idea. I’ll go with Omega. Tech-”

“I do not mind going with the doctor,” He interrupts, “As I understand, one of these locations has medical equipment she needs to inspect.”

Hunter looks at him, disbelievingly.

“It’s not a bad idea,” You offer cheerfully, “If anything is broken, I might not notice right away.”

Hunter turns his disbelieving gaze on you next, and you just beam at him.

“Fine. Tech and the Doc are going together. Which leaves Echo and Wrecker.” Hunter says, “Any complaints? Good. Omega, come on.”

You grin as the other groups walk off in different directions, and then you turn your gaze on Tech, who’s watching you with a small smile on his lips, “Shall we?” You ask.

“It should not take that long to get the equipment that we need.” He agrees, as he turns in the direction of the shop, and then waits for you to fall into step next to him.

“It shouldn’t,” You agree, “The longest part will really be you making sure that the equipment looks like it’s in working order.”

He glances at you, “You really would not be able to determine if the gear was in working order?”

“Of course I’d be able to tell. I just wanted to spend time with you.” You reply with an unrepentant grin.

“O-oh.”

You cheerfully take his hand in yours and you lace your fingers with his, “Anyway, once we have the stuff delivered to the ship, we can look around on our own. I need a new jacket.”

Tech is staring at your joined hands, as if he’s not sure what to make of it, and then he slowly squeezes your hand, and is rewarded with a blinding grin. The moment he realizes that it’s intentional, some of the nervous tension drains from him. “Is there something wrong with your jacket?”

“Well…no. Not really.” You shrug, “It just doesn’t match.”

“...What does it not match?”

You sigh, “You and your brothers. My leather jacket is white! It needs to be darker so I actually look like I belong.”

“You do belong.” Tech says, “You are the most important member of the squad.”

“We both know that’s not true.” You say with a laugh.

“It is true,” Tech insists, “We would be lost several times over without you.”

“Aww, you’re sweet.”

“I am honest.” Tech replies, “You have saved all of our lives on many occasions. We owe you everything.” He pauses, “And I prefer it when you wear white. It makes it easier to see you on the battlefield.”

“That’s not necessarily a good thing.” You point out as the pair of you come to a stop in front of the shop that’s holding the medical equipment that you need to look at.

Tech doesn’t reply right away as he enters the shop, “I think you look nice in white.” He finally says and then he turns his attention towards the shopkeeper and offers the name on the order.

Inspecting the machines takes a lot longer than you would prefer. A lot longer than Tech would prefer too, based on the look on his face, but there’s no way around it. Cid would have your heads if any of the machines were damaged in any way.

But finally, finally, you’re able to confirm the delivery, and you slump against Tech, exhausted. “This is the worst job ever.” You whine.

Tech glances at you, “Well, we are done now.”

“Until Cid gives us another job.” You grumble, and then you lay your cheek against his shoulder, “We used to fight for the good of the Republic, this work is demeaning.”

“But Cid does pay us,” Tech reminds you quietly, “Which is what we need.”

You hum thoughtfully, “Yeah, I guess.”

You take his hand again, and then tug him away from the shop. “Where are we going?” Tech asks, though he doesn’t seem to have any problems with trailing after you.

You just grin at him, and tug him down an alley. “I wanted to go somewhere private.” You reply once you’re not surrounded by people.

“For what purpose?” Tech asks.

“For this one.” You stand on your toes and brush your lips against his, before you pull away, “I don’t know if maybe I’m misreading things-” You murmur, though you’re not able to finish your sentence, as he tugs you against him and crashes his lips against yours.

One of his hands slides up into your hair, while the other tightly grips your hips, pulling you as close as he can. And when he breaks the kiss, his lips hovering just over yours, you can’t help but grin, “I take it I wasn’t misreading then?” You ask.

“I do not think you ever have.” Tech admits.

“Go me,” Your smile is soft and warm, “Hey, Tech?”

“Hm?”

“Did you know that I think about you all the time?” He blinks at you, startled, “And that I would be really, really happy if you loved me as much as I love you?”

“And here I thought that I was being obvious.” Tech murmurs, before he kisses you again and again, “Of course I feel the same way. Or else I would not be kissing you.”

You grin and lightly kiss him again.

“Did you know,” Tech says quietly, “That I think about you all of the time too?”

At that a bubbly laugh falls from your lips, “I do now.”

#star wars #tbb #vodika-vibes follower celebration #tbb tech x reader #tech x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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clu-ven · 1 year

Note

Heyaa , I hope you're taking good care of yourself before answering any of the asks! Make sure to stay hydrated always 😄

I have a small request for the bad batch (mainly Hunter). How would they react to a reader that is the mom friend ? Bonus points if she has a REALLY short pixie cut (hair almost buzzed).

I'm usually the mom friend and I'm really curious regarding this , if you feel comfy enough writing about it , headcanons , maybe even small fics of it? 💛

THE BATCH BAD WITH A READER WHO'S THE 'MOM FRIEND'

quick note: eeeek thank you for the request anon! But I'll be honest, I had no idea what a 'mom friend' was before this so I hope I did it justice! Also, because I spent so much time trying to figure out the characteristics of a mom friend (Have I overthought this? why yes, yes I have), I didn't touch on the short hair aspect but I can always do headcanons specifically for that if you'd like!

word count: 3.1k

HUNTER

Hunter isn’t sure what to make of you at first. Before you came along, he assumed if someone was nice to the Batch, it was because they wanted something from them.

But not you.

You genuinely care about them and their safety. It’s unlike anything Hunter has ever experienced and honestly, it’s a little unsettling at the beginning. He doesn’t understand why you put so much effort into befriending a bunch of defective clones.

He’s cagey but once some time passes and he realises you genuinely care and this isn’t some façade, Hunter relaxes and embraces your role as the mom friend.

Hunter’s actually kinda relieved to have you around now. He’s still unsure if he can look after Omega properly but having you there to confide in is a big help.

And although Hunter will always try his best to act tough and unfazed by things, he appreciates your keen eye and how you can always spot whenever he’s feeling overwhelmed.

...and now, a quick drabble...

Hunter’s been staring at the datapad for twenty minutes, hand pinching the bridge of his nose as he sighs to himself. In the two seats in front of him, Tech and Echo loudly bicker about whether the last mission was a trap or simply bad timing, and in the seat adjacent to Hunter, Wrecker flings Omega up into the air before catching her again… a routine they’ve been doing ever since the Marauder went into hyperspace.

The mixture of Tech and Echo’s squabbling, Wrecker’s booming laugh and Omega’s squeal everytime she’s hoisted into the air is a recipe for disaster for the Sergeant.

Picking up some spare blankets you spontaneously bought on the last planet you visited, you call out to Hunter. His head snaps up, though the second he sees you, his expression softens. “Can you bring these to the bunks for me? You can just leave them at the end of each one” you ask sheepishly.

With a sharp nod, he stands and with a few strides, Hunter is in front of you and taking the blankets. Lowering your voice so just he can hear, you say “Take all the time you need, I’ll get them to calm down… eventually”. A flicker of shock spreads across his face, surprised that not only did you notice his agitated demeanour but that you knew exactly what was causing it.

Opening his mouth, Hunter wants to thank you, to put his hand on your shoulder and tell you how much this means to him but Omega lets out another shriek and he tenses.

Giving him a reassuring smile, you walk past Hunter and to the others. As Hunter makes his way to a quieter part of the ship, he can hear you trying to change the topic of conversation with Echo and Tech, hoping that’ll put an end to their bickering before offering Wrecker and Omega some spare Mantell Mix you had in an attempt to distract them from their noisy game.

With a smile on his face, Hunter crashes on to his bunk, blankets covering his head as he wonders how he got so lucky to meet you.

TECH

Much like Hunter, Tech is dubious of you at first. You’re so quick to help them, to listen to their problems and care for them. Before this, the only other entity that’s ever aided the Batch is the Republic and well, we all know how that turned out.

Don’t be surprised if he ends up interrogating you, asking you a barrage of questions regarding what you hope to get out of this.

Kindness isn’t something they’ve come across recently so Tech’s sceptical of you.

But once Tech sees how you act around not only them but everyone else, he starts to understand that you’re simply caring by nature and not trying to scam them.

Before you came along, Tech would usually stay up working until he fell asleep hunched over a table or else he would opt to not sleep at all.

But now with you here, he knows it’s only a matter of time before you come along and usher him off to bed. At first, Tech thought this was annoying and a hindrance to his work but he gets used to it pretty quickly, finding it comforting that you always make sure he gets some rest.

...and now, another quick drabble...

It’s another late night for Tech. He doesn’t mind it, preferring to work in near silence (besides some snoring coming from the other room). Working on a few adjustments to his helmet, Tech’s eyes flick between his armour and datapad, taking the time to simultaneously catch up on what the Empire has been up to recently. He’s not sure what time it is but judging by the deep sleep everyone seems to be in, he’s presuming he has another few hours until anyone wakes up.

When he hears some movement from the other room, Tech freezes for a second before relaxing once you come into view, a steaming cup in your hands. “You should be asleep” you whisper, tiptoeing closer to him.

“So should you” he replies without missing a beat, resuming his work on his helmet. You sigh, setting the cup down on the desk. Peering over at the warm liquid, Tech questions “Caf?”.

“Tea,” you correct him “you can take it to bed with you, it should help you sleep”.

Tech doesn’t move, giving you a look that reads ‘seriously?’. Putting your hands on your hips, you bluntly state “You need to rest”.

“So do you” he quickly replies. You sigh. Sometimes you forget how stubborn he can be.

“Well, I’ve actually gotten some sleep,” you shrug “and Echo’s supposed to be watching the ship while we’re in hyperspeed but he’s fast asleep so I’ll take watch instead”.

“That’s unnecessary, I’ll watch the ship and you can go back to bed“ Tech proposes but you fold your arms, shaking your head.

“No, you need sleep” you try your best to sound stern but it’s hard to act mad at Tech, especially when he’s trying to help.

He goes to speak again but you sigh, giving him a pleading look as you say “Tech, please… if you don’t sleep now then you’ll be overtired tomorrow and you won’t be able to think straight on our next mission and kriff, if you can’t think straight on a mission then we’re all screwed”.

Slowly, Tech rises from his seat “You have a point”.

Picking up the tea, he gives you a wearily smile, suddenly feeling self-conscious over his stubbornness. “Thank you… for looking out for us, you’re caring nature isn’t something we’re used to” Tech tries to make eye contact with you as he speaks but he finds it hard, his face becoming flustered with his small confession.

Returning the smile, you reassure him “Don’t worry about it, now go get some rest, you deserve it”.

WRECKER

Even in a galaxy full of backstabbers and criminals, Wrecker likes to see the good in people so he trusts you and takes your kindness at face value.

He quickly becomes attached to you, relishing in your caring nature and becoming very protective of you. You’re a breath of fresh air to Wrecker so Maker help anyone who tries to mess you with.

Wrecker knows how rare it is to find someone so gentle and caring and now that you’re here, he doesn’t want to let you go.

Despite Wrecker being much larger and stronger than you, you make him feel safe and protected.

Although, Wrecker can be mischievous sometimes. He has no problem dragging you into an argument if he knows he’s losing, knowing you’ll put a stop to the bickering completely and he won’t ‘officially’ lose the argument.

He may have threatened his brothers a few times with the dreaded “I’m telling”. You’re respected by all of the Batch so the thought of getting into your bad books is enough to make them shut up and leave Wrecker be for a while.

...yet another quick drabble...

Boarding the ship, Wrecker calls out your name, hand on his head as he enters. You immediately look in his direction, getting up from your seat and making your way over to him with a concerned look on your face.

Before you can even ask what’s wrong, Wrecker groans “I hit my head… again”. Reaching up to get a better look at his injury, you gently touch his jawline as you examine the side of his head. Thankfully there’s no open wound and hopefully the pain won’t last long.

“Do you need some food?” you ask, making Wrecker’s demeanour perk up ”You go rest, I’ll get you some blankets and a cup of water and-“.

Hunter cuts you off, boarding the Marauder next “He’s fine, he can do that himself”. Although you know Hunter is only saying this to make sure you’re good hearted nature isn’t being taken advantage of, you roll your eyes.

“No he can’t, he’s injured!” you declare, removing your hand from Wrecker’s jawline and instead opting to rub his back. “Yeah, Hunter, I’m injured!” Wrecker repeats, his tone mimicking yours.

Not wanting a fight to break out, you glance over to Wrecker, giving him an unimpressed look. After seeing your expression, he goes back to groaning and holding his head. It’s pretty obvious Wrecker’s exaggerating this injury but you decide to play along, knowing he just needs some attention.

“Oh c’mon, he didn’t even complain about his head until he saw the Marau-“ Hunter scoffs but Wrecker interjects with another low whine, turning his attention to you as he speaks over the Sergeant “I think it’s getting worse, all this talking is many my head throb”.

With a soft smile, you reply “Why don’t you go lay down, hm? I’ll follow you in a second, just let me go get some snacks for you first”.

Although Wrecker tries to keep up his exaggeration, he can’t hide his smile. Giving you a nod, he turns to head towards the bunks, making sure to give Hunter a smug look as he passes. “Wha- please tell me you saw that” Hunter runs his hand down his face.

You let out a small laugh, making sure you speak loud enough for Wrecker to hear as you give Hunter a wink “Hey be nice to your brother, he’s hurt enough as it is and he doesn’t need you making his headache worse”. Hunter rolls his eyes but doesn’t intervene anymore.

Once you’ve collected all of your snacks, as well as getting some drinks ready and picking up a holomovie, you follow Wrecker into the bunks, excited for the relaxing night ahead.

ECHO

Echo can be kind of distant with you sometimes. It’s not that he doesn’t like your caring tendencies but he doesn’t want to depend on you, scared it might seem like he isn’t able to do things himself.

He wants to help the Batch too and before you came along, he was seen as the responsible and very tired parental figure of the group.

So while he’s hesitant to let you mother him, he’s always there to take care of the others with you. You two are the parents of the group and honestly, you’re the best duo for it.

Echo has some walls up, hesitant of the roles being swapped and him becoming the one being cared for… but with some time, those walls will start to drop.

But until then, he’ll be your teammate. The both of you working together to take care of and worry about the others.

Seriously, it’s scary how similar you and Echo think sometimes. Whether that be packing extra supplies or remembering how each member likes to have their caf.

...you guessed it, it's quick drabble time...

It’s always hard when the batch gets split up, one half staying while the others go on a mission. What makes it harder is that you’re on the side that has been told to stay put.

According to Cid, it’s an easy job that doesn’t require that many people and that you should be happy you get some time to relax while Hunter and Echo go on the mission. But your mind doesn’t see it like that.

While the other’s hang back at Cid’s parlour, you walk with the other two back to the ship so you can properly see them off. “Have you got extra bacta patches on board?” you quiz Echo while Hunter picks up his pace, deciding it’s best to leave the parents of the group discuss supplies.

“Yes, we do” Echo nods.

“And bandages?” you question, nervously nibbling at your bottom lip “Cid didn’t really give us a lot of information on this job so it’s best to be prepared for anything”.

With the Marauder close by, Echo stops and places his hand on your shoulder, making you stop too. “It’s going to be fine,” he says, his voice calm and comforting “we’re transporting nerf nuggets, even I don’t think much can go wrong with that”.

You sigh, knowing Echo’s right but still feeling anxious “Ok but be-“.

“Careful?” He raises an eyebrow at you, a cheeky glint in his eye.

You roll your eyes, already well aware of how predictable you can be. “Yes but seriously, keep an-“

“Eye out for troopers” he finishes your sentence again, letting his hand drop from your shoulder as he begins to climb the steps up to the Marauder.

“Ugh, fine, point proven,” you shake your head before remembering “oh and keep your-“

“Comm on in case of emergencies” this time Echo doesn’t even glance back at you when he says it, only stopping to look at you once he’s safely inside the door to the ship, revealing his mischievous grin.

Before closing the doors, Echo bids you a proper goodbye “I’ll see-“

“You soon?” You quickly interject, making Echo’s grin grow wider. As the steps to the Marauder begin to disappear into the ship’s mechanics and the door loudly starts to close, Echo calls out over the noise “You took the words out of my mouth!”.

CROSSHAIR

Crosshair has convinced himself he doesn’t need your help, your compassion or your company. Yet no matter how many times he tries to push you away or rebuff your kindness, you continue to be there for him.

Basically, you’re a complete enigma to him.

Crosshair’s kinda like a stray cat, subtly curious of you but too wary to accept your affections. Instead, he likes to simply watch your interactions with the others, slowly warming up to the idea of you also caring for him in the same way.

The one thing you do that is guaranteed to always make him smile is scold the others. You don’t do it too often but sometimes it’s necessary, especially when they fight over petty things.

Crosshair is always by your side then, arms folded as he enjoys the entertainment of it all. And if things start to calm down, he makes sure to say a comment or two just to rile the others back up again.

But if he’s in an argument and you walk in? He knows better than to continue, usually rolling his eyes before stalking off to spend some time alone.

...quick drabble time: Crosshair edition...

Despite the mission being a success, it ended in another argument. You luckily missed the start of this argument, so you aren’t sure who’s done what or who’s angry at who but from the glares Crosshair and Hunter keep giving each other, you can make a few assumptions.

You just arrive to the argument when it ends, catching the tail end of it as Crosshair storms past you, muttering something about loyalty.

Once Crosshair is out of earshot, the rest of the batch let out a collective sigh, equally annoyed and disheartened by the argument. “Do I even want to know what this is about?” you ask and judging by the look on Echo’s face, no, you don’t. Taking a deep breath, you turn on your feet, now facing the direction Crosshair stormed off in “I’ll go speak to him”.

It doesn’t take you long to find him, sitting on top of one of the large crates the Batch has been tasked with collecting and transporting back to base. He doesn’t look up when you approach, keeping his attention on the dirt staining his gloves. Hopping up beside Crosshair, you wait for him to speak.

“If you’re here to make me apologise, you’re wasting your time” he hisses.

You shake your head “I’m not here to do that, I just thought I’d keep you company”.

“I don’t need your company,” he snaps back.

You don’t reply. Whenever Crosshair gets into one of his moods, you understand he pushes people away and so you don’t take what he says to heart.

Trying to shift the topic of conversation, you put your hand into your pocket. “Y’know the last time we were in Coruscant, I went to this place called Dex’s Diner. I heard some Regs talking about it so I thought I’d check it out,” you start, causing Crosshair to roll his eyes “the food was fine, nothing too fancy”.

“And why should I care about this?” he asks, raising his head so you can see his bored expression. While he’s still in one of his moods, you notice his tone isn’t as harsh, your sudden story somewhat disarming him.

“Well, on the tables they had a bunch of napkins and those little holders for straws, oh and they had these brightly coloured sauces ,” you ramble on “but they also had this bowl on each table and you’ll never guess what they were full of…”.

Pulling your hand out of your pocket, you open your palm to reveal a bunch of toothpicks. Crosshair gazes down at your hand, his expression remaining neutral.

“I know they’re just toothpicks,” you shrug, unsure whether you should feel embarrassed or relieved by his lack of reaction “but when I saw them, I got excited because they made me think of you. And then I started wondering if you had enough toothpicks so I figured I should take some just in case you don’t”.

With your other hand, you pick out a toothpick and delicately place it on his leg, a satisfied smile on your face. You drop the other toothpicks into your pocket, jumping down from the crate “Anyways, I’ll leave you be now, just thought you might appreciate a toothpick”.

Crosshair stays silent as he watches you leave, waiting a few seconds to make sure you really are gone before taking the toothpick and putting it between his lips. With your words ringing in his head, a small smile begins to tug at his lips.

He rolls the toothpick along his mouth, hoping that’ll hide his expression. Sitting back on the crate, he closes his eyes, focusing all of his attention at what you said...

“they made me think of you”

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rinixo · 1 year

Text

pendulum

Tech/Reader | 5.2k | Rated E | afab reader, smut, virgin!reader, inexperienced reader, sex pollen, oral sex, experienced Tech, Tech with dom tendencies, Tech is a tease, mention of illness, mention of needles

While scavenging a (mostly) abandoned science facility, you are dosed with a mysterious substance. Tech offers assistance.

read on ao3

You had yet to have a mission with (the former) Clone Force 99 that didn’t end up going sideways, and it was getting to the point you wondered if the galaxy had something out for you.

When you were first introduced to the team of ex-troopers on Ord Mantell you didn’t expect you’d be seeing much of them after that. You did the odd job for Cid now and again - being a war refugee wasn’t the most stable of lifestyles - and every time you showed up at least one of them was parked in the parlor. After a while, you had begun to join them on select jobs and had gotten to know them fairly well - especially since every one of the missions ended up with someone hurt, kidnapped, or, as in this case, dosed with an experimental drug.

“All clear,” a modulated voice confirmed from ahead of you. Rubbing your arm where the crazy scientist had managed to jab you, you joined Tech in the doorway of an empty storeroom. You and he had been separated from the rest of the crew and were currently wandering around the lower levels of the science facility you had been sent to salvage. The power was out from a large overload, trapping you in the dark labyrinth for the time being.

“Let’s rest here,” Tech decided, pulling off his helmet and setting it on a crate. “I’ll try to make contact with the Marauder.”

“All right.” You walked over to a crate opposite the one he was leaning against, hopping up on it with a grunt. Pulling down your sleeve, you tried to get a good look at where you had been jabbed with the syringe.

Cid had promised that the place was abandoned, which turned out to be extremely untrue. Some unhinged scientists had stuck around, and when you had stumbled on one in what was supposed to be an empty laboratory you had ended up in a scuffle. Thankfully Tech was right behind you and quickly neutralized your assailant, but not before a needle was slammed into the flesh of your upper arm.

It seemed to be ok, you decided. You’d probably end up with a bruise, but other than a dull throb there didn’t seem to be much damage.

“How is it?” Tech questioned, not looking up from his datapad. At first, you had freaked out, thinking you had been poisoned, but a calm analysis by your quick-witted companion had been able to confirm that whatever it was in the syringe wasn’t going to kill you. It was still unclear what exactly it was, but you had relaxed a bit knowing that you weren’t going to keel over, foaming at the mouth.

“It’s fine, I think,” you answered. “A little sore.”

“Mmm,” was his simple response. You didn’t mind - in fact, you had become quite fond of Tech’s particularly blunt way of addressing things. He didn’t mince words and got straight to the point, something you appreciated after years of dealing with pirates and scavengers and countless others who survived by deceiving others. It was a refreshing change of pace, working with someone whom you could trust.

“Any luck?” You inquired, tilting your head at the device in Tech’s hands. He sighed and set it off to the side.

“Unfortunately not,” he said. “Whatever EMP pulse it was that shook this place and got us separated from the others also fried my datapad, and I don’t have the necessary tools to repair it.”

You raised a brow. “Really? Nothing in all those pockets of yours?”

“No,” Tech pinched the bridge of his nose. “Not this time. An oversight on my end.”

Looking around, you rummaged through some of the crates and discovered a store of medical linens. Divvying them up, you settled against the crate with an exhausted sigh.

“Might as well bunker down then,” you said. “It’s been a long day.”

“Indeed,” Tech concurred.

—

Several boring hours later, the two of you sat side by side against a crate, finishing off some rations.

“So what do you think these guys were doing here?” You queried, wiping crumbs off your hands.

Tech cleared his throat, launching into a hypothesis. “From what info I was able to collect, it seemed they were working on biological warfare agents. Enhancing illicit substances, things like that. A lucrative business.”

You frowned. “I’m not going to get the plague, am I?”

“No, I don’t believe so,” Tech affirmed. “The work being done here seemed to be more on the subtle side. Designed to impact smaller targets in specific ways.”

“Like what?” You were curious, and thankfully Tech liked to explain things as he expanded on his guesses.

“Mind-altering drugs that impair judgment, or create paranoia,” he listed. “Substances intended to embarrass or cause people to debase and humiliate themselves.”

“Sounds like you have firsthand experience.”

He glanced at you. “There was an interesting situation where were evacuating a senator from a separatist prison. She had been injected with a drug that caused her to exhibit fewer inhibitions when it came to soliciting others. It was quite the struggle to let her down, due to her impaired state of mind.”

“She propositioned you?” You asked incredulously.

“Yes. Rather forcefully,” Tech mused. “I had to restrain her, in the end.” He let out of huff of amusement at the memory. “I have never preferred my sexual partners to be those in positions of power, much to her disappointment. It creates an inherent power imbalance that I am not particularly interested in.”

You gaped, mouth open lamely. That was not the way you had expected that story to end. Tech had always come off as someone who would be uninterested in such frank expectations around sex.

“You look surprised,” Tech observed, and you sputtered.

“No, it’s just - I just thought that-“ you trailed off, realizing you were only digging yourself deeper into a hole of embarrassment.

“You thought that out of my brothers, I was the least likely to have experience with sexual intercourse,” Tech stated matter-of-factly. He had a way of saying things so casually in situations others would be uncomfortable in, and this seemed to be another one of those.

“I - yeah,” you admitted. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed something like that. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Shrugging, Tech looked back down at his dead datapad, fiddling with some wires.

“It is a logical conclusion,” he remarked. “I am aware that my attributes do not lead one to associate me with sexual situations.”

You frowned. Was he calling himself unattractive?

“Well, I wouldn’t say that,” you countered. “I- you’re very handsome, Tech.” You flushed at your admission, wondering if you were overstepping.

He tilted his head towards you again, one brow raising in question. “I am a clone. We vary little in our appearances.”

“I’m serious,” you huffed, punching him lightly on the shoulder. “Sure, clones are clones, but you and your brothers look quite a bit different from your average trooper. And not in a bad way.”

He held your gaze for a breath longer than necessary before returning it to the device in his lap. “Thank you,” he acknowledged, after a brief silence.

Thankful that your conversation had relaxed, you leaned against the crate and stared up at the ceiling, lit dimly by a flickering inset light.

A dull throb of discomfort made you wince. Pressure was starting to build behind your eyes, like a headache. “I think I’m going to try to sleep,” you decided, and went to the corner where you had set up a makeshift bed.

Tech just nodded and re-focused back on the datapad. Rolling onto your side, you closed your eyes and tried to will yourself asleep.

You woke a while later, what little sleep you had experienced restless and uncomfortable. Sweat made your thin shirt cling to your shoulders and chest, and your mouth was drier than Tatooine.

Looking around for your canteen, you hastily downed what water was left in it. It wasn’t enough, but it helped a bit. Your head hurt, your blood felt like it was on fire, and there was an ache between your legs that hadn’t been there a few hours ago.

“Ah. You’re awake,” Tech’s voice chirped from the doorway. He stepped inside and stood with his hands clasped behind his back. “I was expecting you to still be out.”

“Can’t sleep,” you rasped. “I think whatever that scientist injected is starting to kick in.” You rubbed your eyes and glanced up at your companion.

“Hmm.” Stepping forward, Tech took your chin in hand and tilted your head to the side. “What kinds of symptoms are you experiencing?”

“I’m burning up,” you mumbled miserably. “My head hurts, and -“ you trailed off, feeling shy once again. You were not about to admit to Tech that you were starting to feel incredibly aroused.

“And?” Tech prodded.

“Nothing,” you deflected. “That’s all.”

Another brow raise, and you suspected he could tell you were not being honest. Thankfully, he didn’t push the subject, and let go of your chin before wandering back over to his own bedroll.

“I was able to make contact with the others. They had to flee, but will be back here in a few hours,” he said, sitting against the wall. “We can get you medical assistance and investigate the purpose of the drug once it does.”

You nodded, throat too dry to respond. Noticing you shaking your now empty canteen, Tech tossed you his. You downed it in one go, mumbling thanks.

“I’m gonna…try to get some more sleep,” you rasped. Though you doubted it would work, you figured trying to sleep until the rest of the crew arrived might alleviate some of the discomfort coursing through your body.

“Do not hesitate to tell me if your symptoms worsen,” Tech directed, and you sighed and laid back down.

The fire burning under your skin only increased as time went on. You curled up on your side, trying not to whimper or give in to the urge to stick your hands down your pants. Tech wandered in and out of the room, no doubt looking for something to keep his busy mind occupied. Part of you longed to call out to him, beg him to help you alleviate the ache of emptiness in your cunt, but you stilled your tongue and tried to tough it out.

Finally, after a particularly harsh pulse of need, you sat up and leaned against the crate. You pulled up the back of your shirt, pressing it against the cool metal in an attempt to find some comfort from your burning flesh, but it did little to help.

“You have gotten worse,” Tech chimed from across from you. He peered at you intensely, and you wondered how long he had been watching you. You noticed he had stripped out of his armor and was just in his underlayers. “I suspect you are in significant discomfort.”

“Yeah,” you conceded. “It’s making me feel-“ you trailed off, wondering how to explain it to him.

“Your body has increased in temperature and levels of sexual hormones,” Tech stated bluntly. You gaped at him, surprised he had figured it out. Had you been that obvious?

“How did you know?” You asked.

“When I ran a diagnostic when you were injected I got several hits related to amatory agents. It did not seem pertinent to mention at the time,” he explained. “I did not want to make you uncomfortable. Topics of a sexual nature are usually quite private for most.” “I think we’re past that,” you croaked.

“Agreed.” With a low grunt, he hopped off the crate he was sitting on.

“Perhaps I may assist,” Tech offered. He stood straighter, hands once again clasped behind his back.

You choked out a laugh. “What, put me out of my misery?”

You caught a glimpse of the faintest movement of his lips into a smirk at your jest before it disappeared. “In a way,” he mused.

“I do have limited knowledge of aphrodisiac and libido-enhancing stimulants. I suspect that is what you were injected with, based on your symptoms.” He pushed up his goggles, listing them off. “Increased rate of respiration, dilated pupils, sensitivity in erogenous zones-“

“Ok,” you cut him off, feeling even more flushed at his frank descriptions of your current predicament. “Aphrodisiac, I got it. How are you going to help?”

“I could stimulate you in an attempt to relieve the symptoms,” he continued. “In many cases, these kinds of toxins can be flushed out of the system more rapidly by engaging in amatory expression.”

You blinked up at him - on a good day Tech’s scholarly explanations sometimes flew over your head, but this was a whole new kind of confusion.

“I must be losing my mind,” you rambled. “Because it sounds like you’re offering to fuck this out of my system.“

“That is precisely what I am offering,” Tech confirmed. “In less technical phrasing.”

You chewed over your options. None of them were particularly favorable. You could either lay there in continued misery until the rest of the crew arrived, or sleep with Tech.

In a normal situation, the second option wouldn’t seem so daunting, but you had never slept with anyone before. You had fled your planet at a young age and since then had never been in a place where that kind of experience was feasible. Did you really want this to be your first time - in a dusty storeroom, with someone who was only doing it out of medical need?

A particularly painful pulse to your groin answered for you. Standing with a groan, you looked up at Tech who was patiently waiting for your answer. “I-we can try,” you decided.

Nodding, Tech stepped towards you. Your heart, already thrumming, increased in its tempo as his much taller form closed in. Your breath came out in rapid pulses as he leaned his head down towards yours, his eyes focused intently on your face.

You started to feel overwhelmed. “W-wait,” you pushed on his shoulders, stepping backward away from him. “Hold on, I-“ You wrapped your arms around your chest, creating a barrier.

Tech immediately drew away, tilting his head. “You are nervous,” he observed “Understandable. I will leave if you have changed your mind-“

“No,” you shook your head. “No, I’ve just…I’ve never done anything like this before,” you confessed, staring intently at the ground.

A beat of silence. “Ah. You are a virgin,” Tech replied simply. “Surprising.”

You frowned, looking back up at him. “What?”

“You are a young woman with features many people consider attractive,” he elaborated. “It stands to reason that you would have had those who would have desired you sexually.”

Mind racing - did he just call you attractive? - you shook your head. “No. It just…never felt right. Comfortable,” you faltered.

Tech nodded, rubbing his chin in thought. “That is not unusual,” he affirmed. "Or unwise. Many people experience dissatisfaction stemming from unsuitable sexual partners.”

“I’m a little out of my element,” you muttered. “I don’t know what to do.”

There was a gleam of something unreadable in Tech’s gaze, and he leaned forward. You breathed out, eyes wide and body frozen. He hovered over you again, your back pressed up against the crate and neck craning to look up at him.

“That is quite all right,” he assured, taking your chin in his hand again. “I do.”

With that, he pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was soft, and exploratory, sending shivers up your spine. You shuddered against him, and he took that as an affirmation to press against you more firmly.

Relaxing your body, you allowed Tech to move closer, legs spreading to allow him to slot himself against your trembling form. Your hands came up to grasp at his firm biceps as he pulled away from your mouth. You panted, eyes fixed on his slightly swollen lips.

“I want you to tell me if you are uncomfortable at any point,” he instructed lowly. “Due to your enhanced state you may not feel the usual discomfort, but seeing as you have never done this before, there is still the chance you may-“

“Tech,” you pleaded, interrupting him. His touch had ignited something inside of you, and you pressed up against him. You knew that when this was over you would be grateful for his concern, but right now you just wanted him to kiss you again.

“Please,” you whispered, and you saw his throat bob as he swallowed roughly. You wondered how you looked in his eyes - flushed, aroused, body fervently pleading for his. Did he like it? Or was this just clinical for him? Your lust-addled mind wanted him to like it. You wanted him to like you.

Clearing his throat, Tech leaned back down. This time you met his mouth with your own, sighing at the way he licked your lips before his tongue slid over yours. He pulled back, and your whine at the loss turned into another sigh as he kissed from your jaw, down your arched neck to your collarbone. Grasping the hem of your shirt, he pulled it off your damp skin and let out the smallest of exhales at the sight of your bare chest.

“Brilliant,” he mumbled. With impressive strength, he grasped your hips and sat you up on the crate so that your chest was level with his head. Dipping his head down again, he placed more soft, open kisses on your skin. One of your hands went from his arm to his head as his clever tongue lathed over the peak of one breast - the sensation made you gasp, shocks of pleasure cascading down to your slick cunt.

“Sensitive,” Tech noted, voice husked as he moved from one peaked nipple to the other. “A result of the drug, perhaps?” His teeth pulled on your nipple, gentle yet firm, and you arched into it. “Or maybe you’re always like this.”

“D-don’t know,” you stuttered. “You’re the first one to d-do this…”

A pleased hum, and Tech looks up at you. “Fascinating,” he husked. You wondered if he liked that - being the first man to touch you, kiss you, see you bare in this way. It would certainly fit with his curious nature.

He trails his mouth down your body, lips ghosting over your soft flesh. He comes to the top of your leggings and leans back. Taking them in his hands, he begins to pull them down your thighs, your hips lifting to assist.

“Have you never experienced any kind of sexual contact, or just not penetrative sex?” He inquired, slipping your drenched panties down your legs as well.

“Nothing,” you mumbled. “Just…just myself.” You had explored your own body a few times, but a lack of experience and motivation had never brought you any kind of significant relief.

“Nothing,” he repeats, and pushes your shoulders gently so that you are laying back on top of the crate, your hips pulled to the edge. Tech kneels, and you prop yourself up nervously, realizing what he was intending to do.

“I- I think I’m pretty ready,” you squeak. “You don’t have to do that-“ You trail off as he flicks his eyes from the apex of your thighs to your face. He lifts his goggles off, placing them down neatly at your side.

“This is your first time,” Tech’s gaze is firm, determined. “I would be remiss if I did not give you the experience you deserve.” His hands come to spread your thighs, and even through the fog of your lust, you burn at the thought of him staring at your glistening folds. One of his hands moves from your thigh, and he runs two fingers over your cunt, pressing at the swollen, sensitive flesh. You let out a moan as he repeats the motion, applying pressure on your clit with his knuckles.

He settles his face between your legs comfortably, pulling one of your legs to the side and lifting the other to rest on his shoulder. With one last glance at your smoldering expression, he dips down and lathes his tongue from your leaking hole up over your clit.

You gasp, a hand coming up to cover your mouth. Every new sensation up to this point had been more pleasurable than the last, but this? The feeling of Tech’s tongue licking your cunt purposefully was nearly indescribable. It was more than just the physical sensation; it was also the visual of this man kneeling before you with his head between your thighs. Something about Tech had always seemed so untouchable, unattainable, yet here he was, mouthing against your cunt on a dusty floor.

“No need to silence yourself,” Tech chides, a frown on his brow. “There is no one around to overhear, and I would like verbal confirmation of your pleasure.”

“O-okay,” you breathe shakily, moving your hand from your mouth. Satisfied, Tech returns to his work dutifully.

You oblige his request with soft panting and gasps, and let your fingers run tentatively over his scalp. He hums in affirmation against you, making you twitch from the subtle vibration.

He focuses on your clit as something bright begins to spark inside of you. You know what an orgasm is - theoretically - and lay your head back down as Tech draws you closer. He alternates between kitten licks and sucking, and a tremble starts in your lower body. As it builds so does your anticipation. It’s almost overwhelming, and Tech notices you fighting it.

“Let it happen,” he soothes. “I’ve got you. You’ll feel better once you come.” More attention to your pulsing clit, and your leg begins to shake as your orgasm crests.

Your back arches stiffly, your mouth opening into a silent gasp. Tech holds you firm, licking and kissing your cunt all the way through it. Warmth, like liquid lightning, explodes from where his mouth meets your body, and for a moment you think you’ll never come down from it.

Eventually, you come to, leaning up back on your elbows as Tech stands. He wipes his chin with a thumb absently, and you stare at how his lips glisten with you.

“Was that your first orgasm?” Tech queries. You nod, still in a haze. He smirks ever so slightly, clearly pleased with himself.

“How do you feel?”

You frown, trying to think. Much of the burning sensation is gone, but there’s still an ache deep inside of you that has yet to be satisfied.

“Empty,” you decide, and Tech lets out another terse breath. You look down at his waist - he is stripped to just his blacks, and there is a prominent bulge pressing against the dark fabric. Your mouth suddenly waters, and you lurch forward, startling Tech.

He stabilizes you with his hands on your shoulders. “Careful,” he warns.

“I want to make you feel good,” you insist. “Teach me how to touch you.”

His throat bobs again as he swallows roughly. “Another time,” he placates. “This time is about you.”

He slides his blacks down, revealing his cock, hard and throbbing. Your cunt pulses in anticipation. You’d never seen a man's penis outside of images on the ‘net, so you didn’t have a lot of references, but you were pretty sure he was more endowed than the average male. So much so that even through the insistence of the drug you were concerned if he would fit inside you.

Tech comes forward to kiss you again, pulling you towards him. Sliding his arms under your bare thighs, he pulls you off the crate and walks you over to where his bed linens are spread out. Breaking from your mouth, he lays you down, hovering over your body and slotting himself between your legs. He shuffles forward, groin meeting yours, and rubs the head of himself through your slick.

“Remember what I said,” he directs lowly, and you nod. Satisfied, he grasps your hips and positions his cock at your entrance.

You wince at the pressure and the push; not from pain, but from the experience of a new sensation. Even through the enhancement the drug has placed on your body, he stretches you, splits you. Your mind races, trying to find the words to describe how it feels to have his cock inside of you - full, big, deep - finally deciding that it just feels right.

A groan from above you snaps your focus back externally, and you look up at Tech’s face. His brow is furrowed, not unlike when he is focusing on a problem.

“Are you ok?” You whisper, and he nods, head dipping to see where he is feeding himself into you. He pushes forward, thrusting more of his cock into your body.

“Yes,” he breathes out. “You are very tight, even with the effects of the drug.”

Clocking your concerned expression, he dips his head down to capture your mouth in another kiss. “It is - you feel incredible,” he assures. “I’m going to move now.”

Tech starts out slow, the drag of his cock up and then down intended to get you acclimated. Your legs come up to hook over his hips, and you bite your lip at the way your body is dragged against his.

You sigh in pleasured satisfaction, eyes closing and body relaxing into the rough medical blankets. Above you, Tech watches the way your mouth opens and brings a hand up to caress your swollen bottom lip.

“How does it feel?” Tell me,” he requests. Your brow furrows as you try to find the words, and he urges you on with another purposeful thrust.

“Good,” you cry. “Stars, Tech- it’s so good.” You roll your hips up to meet his, body purring with gratification at the strained breath it draws from him.

“What feels good?” He prods. His hips circle, and you choke at how he seems to know exactly where you need him inside of you.

“Your cock. S’big. Filling me up,” you mewl. “I l-like it, Tech.”

“Good girl,” he breathes out, and you clench at the praise. His pace quickens, and you know that you’ll feel the ache of him inside you for days after this.

You feel an orgasm building once more, though this time it is sparking from deeper inside of you. There’s a particular spot inside of your cunt that his cock rams against over and over, precise and intentional. One of his hands comes down to press softly against your swollen clit, and you let out a squeak at the sensation. You try to fight down your release, wanting to drag this out as long as you can.

“I…am not going to last much longer,” Tech professes, voice tense. You let out a low wail. “Where do you want me to come?”

“Inside me,” you beg instantly. “Come in me Tech, please. I need it.” It isn’t an exaggeration - your nerves scream for him to spill his seed inside of you, to satisfy the fire under your skin. It’s what you need to relieve the ache that has been building for hours.

“P-persuasive,” he chokes, gripping your hips and fucking himself into you harder. “If you insist-“

Your legs, hooked over his thin waist, tighten their grip around him. You cease fighting your impending release, enjoying the way your cunt flutters around Tech’s iron-hard cock. He is enjoying it as well if the way his mouth opens in a low gasp is any indication.

“T-tech,” you rasp, and his gaze snaps to your face. A firm hand grasps your chin, and he leans forward, his chest pressing against your own heaving form.

“Look at me when you come,” he demands, and you do your best to do what he says, Your orgasm rolls over you, and you blink away tears of pleasure as he rocks you through it.

His own finish comes during yours, the way your cunt clenches around him wringing from him the orgasm you need him to have. It’s a sight - the normally so put-together man burying his face into the side of your neck to muffle the sound of his pleasure into your sweat-slicked skin. His hips slow their pace as he pulses his release inside of you, giving in to your request for him to finish inside of your desperate cunt.

It takes a moment for both of you to steady your breathing. You throw an arm over your eyes, relief pouring through your body. It feels like dipping into a cold pool of water on a hot day, body returning to a state of equilibrium.

Lifting himself off you slowly, Tech pulls himself out of you at the same time. Your tongue darts out with a gasp at the sensation of something thick leaking out of your still-fluttering cunt. You hear him let out a satisfied noise at the sight, tucking himself back into his underlayers.

“Are you all right?” He questions softly, and you peek out from under your arm to nod.

“Yes,” you shiver. “T-thanks. I feel much better.”

Nodding, Tech leans against the crate, letting out a sigh. “I am…glad to hear it.”

Now that the drug has been placated, your senses returning to normal, you start to feel awkward. Following his lead, you gather your clothes and slip them on quietly, leaning up against the crate next to him. You pull your knees up to your chest and lay your chin on top, wondering if you should say something.

“You are thinking very loudly,” Tech comments, and you flick your eyes at him. His head leans against the crate, turned slightly to pierce you knowingly.

“Is mind reading another one of your enhancements?” You mumble, and he gives you a soft smile.

“No, though that would come in handy at times,” he reckons. “I just mean that you should not feel embarrassed at what has just transpired between us, though it is natural for one to experience those kinds of feeling after their first sexual encounter-“

“Easier said than done,” you challenged half-heartedly. “But thanks. I’m…grateful that you were here.”

“Was it satisfactory?” Tech inquired, and you let out a short laugh.

“Well it’s not like I have a wide frame of reference - but yes,” you admit. “It was…very good.” You clear your throat, embarrassed. “Was it…ok…for you?”

Tech raises a brow at your timid question. “Are you asking if I enjoyed having sex with you?”

You groan and bury your face in your knees, and feel him shuffle closer to you.

“While it may have been born out of medical necessity, it was not a chore,” Tech assures you. He knocks a shoulder against you, and you tilt your head up to pout at him. That’s probably the most direct affirmation you’re going to get from him, you decide. Little wins.

“And I meant what I said,” he continues. “About…another time. If you are not opposed.” Your brows raise in interest, and you clear your throat nervously before asking;

“How long did you say it would take the rest of the crew to get here?"

—

#tech x reader #the bad batch #tbb tech #tbb tech x reader #tech smut

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