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#bad batch x reader
nahoney22 · 1 day
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Me again! Please can I request some HC’s with the bad batch and how they react to reader (gn or female) accidentally crawling into the boys bunk at night 😂
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Accidental Sleeping Arrangements
All Bad Batch Boys X GN!Reader
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How the boys react to you accidentally crawling into their bunk at night.
warnings: Fluff, comfort, cuddles, some moody boys, gender neutral reader. Can be read as romantic or platonic.
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Echo 💤
The first time:
As you slid into his bunk accidentally that evening, he was thoroughly bewildered. He had jolted awake and sat upright, observing your exhausted form snuggling against him, eyelids heavy with fatigue.
With tactful gentleness, he roused you from your slumber, delicately shaking you to bring you back to awareness. "Hey, um, you're in my bunk, trooper."
Your eyes flickered open, adjusting to the dim light, and a muttered curse escaped your lips as you retreated, cheeks warming with embarrassment. "Sorry, Echo," you apologized, slipping out of his bunk. "I must be completely drained," you sheepishly confessed.
"It's alright. I just didn't want to startle you by waking up to my face," he commented. You glance at him with a furrow forming on your brow before you shook your head.
"I doubt I'd be bothered by that..." your words trailed off, potentially carrying unintended flirtation. Echo's eyes widened slightly, his hand instinctively moving to the back of his neck, a clear sign of slight shyness at your words.
"Anyway," you say abruptly, spinning on your heel. "Sorry about that."
Echo simply nodded, silently observing as you retreated to your own bunk, leaving him with a sudden chill in the air, now yearning for the warmth you briefly brought beside him.
The second time:
With a tired yawn, Echo wearily approaches his bunk a few nights later, only to halt in surprise at the sight of someone curled up inside. Upon closer inspection, he realises it's you again, presenting him with a slight dilemma.
Despite his weariness, Echo knows he needs rest, and while your bunk is an option, his own provides the perfect setup for his cybernetics, ensuring he's at his best for the next day's duties.
Letting out a small sigh, hoping you wouldn't mind, he settles on the edge of his bunk and gently wakes you. "Hey, you're in my bunk again," he murmurs softly.
You stir, meeting his gaze before cringing slightly. "Again? I'm so sorry," you begin to rise, but his hand on your shoulder stops you.
"You can stay, but I'd also like to get some sleep... if you, uh, catch my meaning," he hints with a faint smile, hoping you understand.
"Oh," you blush, considering for a moment. "Well, I hope you don't mind sharing."
"Not at all," he reassures, his tone gentle as you make space. He lies beside you, and before long, you drift back to sleep. Echo finds solace in the rhythm of your soft snores, gradually succumbing to sleep himself... though waking up to find you both cuddling is a surprise he hadn't anticipated, yet one he welcomes warmly.
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Hunter 💤
The first time:
When Hunter awoke to find you crawling into his bunk, confusion gripped him. Instantly alert, his hands tensed, ready to confront any potential intruder, but his apprehension melted away as he recognised you.
He lay there in silence, contemplating his next move.
While a part of him felt inclined to let you sleep, considering your recent exhaustion, he couldn't shake the concern of startling you upon awakening to find him beside you.
After ensuring you were deeply asleep, he carefully extricated himself from the occupied bunk, making sure not to disturb you.
Once free, he couldn't suppress a soft chuckle as he observed you, peacefully snuggled into his pillow, emitting gentle snores. “Sleep well.” He whispered to you before leaving you to rest.
He made a mental note to address the situation in the morning, but perhaps it’s better left unsaid since you’ll know your error when you woke up.
The second time:
As you woke up to find yourself in Hunter's bunk, mortification swept over you. Yet, when you encountered Hunter in the cockpit, he didn't mention a word about it, instead offering you a drink of caf.
A small part of you entertained the idea that perhaps he was unaware of the nighttime intrusion. However, your suspicions were confirmed a few nights later.
Fatigued and not paying attention to your surroundings, you headed towards what you thought was your bunk and climbed inside, only to be surprised by the presence of another person. "Hunter, what're you doing?" you blurt out, eyes widening in disbelief.
"I could ask you the same question," he chuckles, adjusting his position and turning to face you. "This is my bunk."
Blinking in realisation, you glance around, confirming his assertion. "Oh," you laugh sheepishly, "I thought this was mine."
His smile is gentle, his eyes gleaming faintly in the dim light. "You're more than welcome to stay," he offers casually, though he soon realizes the potential implications of his words. "If you want to, that is."
A part of you knows you should return to your own bunk, yet there's an inexplicable pull keeping you there. "Well, I'm all comfy now..." you hint with a small smile.
He nods, turning his gaze away and closing his eyes. "Me too. Sleep well."
It took you a moment to fall asleep but just like how Hunter didn’t tell you that you had slept in his bunk first initially, you won’t tell him how he pulls you into his body as he slept and held you close throughout the night. Not that you seemed to mind.
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Wrecker 💤
The first time:
"Wrecker, you scared me! What are you doing in my bunk?" you exclaimed, startled by the unexpected intrusion.
As you thought you were settling into your bunk for the night, using your hands to navigate through the darkness, you accidentally crawled onto something large and hard.
Assuming it was just your sheets bunched up, you attempted to smooth it out, only to be met with a small yelp that made your heart skip a beat.
"Huh?" Wrecker groggily emerged from his sleep cocoon, rubbing his eyes. "This is my bunk, isn't it?"
"No, I'm pretty sure it's mine," you asserted, but as Wrecker shifted in the bunk and reached under the blanket, he pulled out his beloved Lula.
"Oh. Maybe not then." You felt pretty embarrassed by your mistake, but Wrecker didn't seem to mind at all.
"It's alright, thought I was going to get an extra cuddle buddy for a second there!" he chuckled heartily, waving Lula in your face. His laughter filled the room, and you couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through you at the thought of being Wrecker's "cuddle buddy," though you weren't entirely sure if he was joking.
Deciding not to dwell on it further and eager to avoid keeping Wrecker awake any longer, you offered a meek apology before retreating to your actual bunk. As you settled in, you couldn't shake the image of Wrecker's playful grin from your mind.
The second time:
Wrecker stared down at his bunk, finding it already occupied with not much room left for him. You were snoozing away, oblivious to his dilemma. Wrecker knew he could be a bit of a grouch without his sleep, so he decided to gently prod you awake.
"Hey," he nudged you, rousing you from your slumber. "Is this you asking to be my cuddle buddy?"
You stirred awake, blinking in confusion as you glanced at him. It was then that you noticed Lula on the pillow next to your head. "Oh shoot, sorry Wrecker," you sighed groggily, just wanting to fall back asleep into the warmth of his bunk.
"It's alrigh’," he chuckled softly, his deep voice filling the room with warmth. "But uh... I kinda need to sleep."
"Then come cuddle next to me," the words slipped out before you realized what you were saying, but you didn't want to take them back either. The thought of Wrecker's warmth beside you was oddly comforting.
Wrecker was surprised for a moment, his eyes widening slightly, before a soft smile spread across his face. Without hesitation, he slung his armor off and crawled into the space beside you. "Are ya sure about this?"
"Mhm," you replied sleepily, your arms spreading over his chest as you nestled into him like a log warming a fire. "You're warm."
Wrecker smiled to himself, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him as he closed his eyes, feeling your steady breathing against his chest.
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Tech 💤
The first time:
Sleep was not a common occurrence for Tech, so when he made the rare decision to nestle down for the night, he wasn't too perturbed to find you asleep in his allocated spot.
He paused for a moment, considering whether to wake you, but recalling your exhausted state earlier, he reasoned that you wouldn't have intentionally taken his bunk.
Instead, he quietly observed the peaceful rise and fall of your chest, noting the serenity that graced your features, before silently retreating back to the cockpit where he remained awake for the night once again.
"Tech, why didn't you wake me? I feel terrible," you expressed your guilt that next morning upon discovering that you had accidentally slept in his bunk, leaving him to forego his own rest.
"That is not necessary. You were tired, and I can always keep my mind occupied with tasks or reading intel," he replied in his usual composed manner, peering at you over his datapad. "I shall assume this was a one-time occurrence, and my bunk shall be my own again tonight."
“Yes, of course," you nodded, your expression reflecting genuine concern as you offered another apology before preparing for the demanding day ahead. Despite Tech's assurances, the weight of your unintended intrusion lingered.
The second time:
It just so happened to be the next night that you found yourself once again interrupting Tech's sleep. Moving through the dark ship with heavy eyes and a yawn on your lips, it was no surprise that you once again miscounted where your bunk was and crawled into the wrong one.
Your head hit the pillow, and your eyes shut as the warmth of the bed enveloped you. However, despite the comfort, a small flickering light kept intruding upon your consciousness, prompting your eyes to flutter open. At first, you didn't register the source, but as you turned your head to the right, your eyes widened in realisation: Tech laying there on his datapad, as if nothing had happened.
"Tech, what... am I...?" you began, your voice trailing off as confusion clouded your thoughts.
"In the wrong bunk?" he interjected calmly, settling his datapad down and gazing down at you. His goggles rested atop his head, allowing you to see the brightness of his eyes in the dark. "That is correct."
You sit up, feeling a rush of embarrassment flood over you, and run your hand over your face in frustration. "I'm sorry. I don't know what's up with me.”
Tech raises a single brow, his expression softened with genuine concern. "Perhaps in the morning, I should run some tests if you will allow me?" he suggests softly, his voice carrying a hint of worry. "But for now, I suggest you get some sleep."
Nodding in agreement, you reluctantly pull the blanket off your body, preparing to retreat to your own bunk. However, before you can make your escape, Tech's hand gently rests on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks.
"You are free to continue sleeping in my bunk tonight if you find it comfortable," he offers unexpectedly, his gesture of kindness catching you off guard.
"What, really?" you respond, turning to face him, searching his eyes for confirmation.
With a nod, Tech reclines back and retrieves his datapad. "Yes, really. I do not mind."
"But what if I keep you awake again?" you voice your concern.
"Do not worry about me," he reassures softly, a warm smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Now, get some rest before I give you a lecture about the benefits of getting sleep."
You chuckle softly at his remark before settling, finding comfort in his understanding demeanor. As you prepare to drift off into slumber, you can't help but feel thankful for Tech's compassion and generosity.
In the quiet of the night, you woke up only once, feeling Tech's arm drape gently across your body. Yet, instead of feeling unsettled, you found comfort in his presence.
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Crosshair 💤
The first time:
As you prepared to settle in for the night after a long day, exhaustion clouded your judgment, leading you to absentmindedly crawl into a bunk without much thought. However, your relaxation was short-lived as you were startled by a gravelly voice beside you.
"What are you doing?" The abrupt question made you jump, and you inadvertently knocked your head against the top of the bunk in surprise.
"What am I doing? What the kriff are you doing?" you retorted in annoyance, rubbing your sore head as Crosshair sat up beside you, his expression stern in the dim light.
"I'll think you'll find this is my bunk," he hissed, his sharp gaze piercing through the darkness. As you glanced across the room, you realised your mistake—the bunk you were in wasn't yours.
"Oh."
"Yes. Oh. Now get out before I drag you out," he threatened, though you could tell it was more playful than serious.
"Alright, alright, keep your hair on," you sighed as you obediently crawled out of his bunk, feeling the absence of warmth as you departed.
Crosshair grumbled under his breath and rolled back onto his side to sleep, while you mentally chided yourself for the blunder, making sure you never accidentally try to sleep in his bunk again.
The second time:
You're exhausted, your head throbbing with the relentless ache of sleep deprivation from the past few days, and you've reached the point where you don't care where you sleep anymore. And that includes Crosshair's bunk.
As you settle down on the edge of his bunk, the closest one available, you feel the weight of his gaze on your back, following your movements as you swing your legs around and lay down. "What are you doing?" his voice cuts through the silence, tinged with irritation.
You don't reply, simply closing your eyes as you allow the fatigue to wash over you, hoping for a moment's respite.
"This is my bunk," he asserts firmly, his agitation evident, but as you remain silent, his annoyance shifts to confusion.
"Are you... alright?" he inquires, concern creeping into his voice.
You shake your head softly, and you hear him sigh, but he doesn't press you further. Nor does he demand that you leave.
As sleep begins to claim you, Crosshair remains awake for a while, his thoughts swirling. In his mind, he tells himself that this is a one-time occurrence.
Yet, if you're upset and in need of somewhere to rest for a while, he doesn't mind if you sleep next to him again. After all, it turns out to be the best sleep he's had in a while too.
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Masterlist
Tags: @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417@eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex x @jesseeka @theroguesully y @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97@staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @pb-jellybeans s @nunanuggets s @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 7 @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @imalovernotahater @id-rather-be-a-druid @the-bad-batch-baroness @lulalovez @green-alm0nd @thiswitchloves9904
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midnightdjarin · 24 hours
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Crosshair enemies to lovers drabble cause why not 🤭
- Crosshair is DEFINITELY enemies to lovers like cmon don’t lie. The two of you would CONSTANTLY argue but like the kind of arguing where when he finished yelling he would stare at your lips a lil bit AHHH😫 ALSO the banter would be crazy
The two of you had argued at least 18 times on this mission. After walking through the forrest for what seemed like days, crosshair turns to you, who happens to be walking a few feet behind.
“Struggling to keep up, pretty?”
“I told you to stop calling me that.”
He takes the toothpick out of his mouth, “I don’t think so. I have too much fun watching you squirm.”
“I do not squirm”, you insisted.
He stops walking and turns to you completely, “You’re playing with your shirt sleeves and your face is pink. Thats squirming”, he puts the toothpick back between his teeth.
You smirk, “It’s so flattering that you’ve memorized my body language, you must pay an awful lot of attention to me.”
He said nothing and turned back around to catch up with the group.
You stay a few feet behind but were still able to hear everyone laugh after hunter muttered, “She got you there.”
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Y/N: Get out of my room, Wreck!
Wrecker: *being a little shit and standing outside the doorframe* I’m not in your room!
Y/N: HUNTER-
Wrecker: Hey! No fair! You can’t just call Hunter every time you want to get your way!
Y/N: Fine.
Y/N:
Y/N: CROSSHAIR-
Wrecker: *immediately running away* That’s so much worse and you know it!
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candyfloss5000 · 2 months
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TECH IS ALIVE (theory)
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It looks like this guy has prosthetic legs. How can you have an injury great enough to need prosthetic legs?? Falling from an extreme height. Who fell from an extreme height?? Tech. This guy is Tech no questions asked. (I cant see any other reason why the animators would include the detail of this character requiring prosthetic legs so my bet is that its Tech)
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rainydaydream-gal18 · 1 month
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(The Bad Batch) How He Is with His Newborn Baby
Hunter: He adores them and spends a lot of time holding them. Hunter is also really big on the whole skin-to-skin contact, so it becomes a common thing to see him walking around shirtless with the baby cradled snugly in one arm. He gets pretty good at performing tasks around the home with the baby. He's enraptured by the little one, but also very attentive to your needs. Hunter makes sure you take the time you need to eat, shower, and just have time to relax every now and then. Literally, any excuse to hold them some more, and he's giving it. He is good at rocking the baby in such a way that they fall asleep instantly in his arms.
Wrecker: The baby has him wrapped around their tiny finger already. He's already telling them how much he loves them and how proud he is. Wrecker also just spends time telling them all the fun things they're going to do together when they're old enough to walk, talk, etc. He is so unbelievably gentle and sweet with the little one in general, and also of course with you. He'll randomly stare at you and tell you how beautiful you are and what a good job you're doing.
Tech: This baby is not at the point where they can retain any information yet, but Tech spends plenty of time just talking to them. He talks about anything his mind can conjure up. The baby becomes so accustomed to the sound of his voice that it has quite the soothing effect. Additionally, Tech is very quick to pick up on the baby's cycle of needs. It gets to the point where they cry, and he can glance at his chrono and pinpoint exactly what they need according to the little schedule he's created. He also regularly checks the baby's weight, vitals, to make sure they're in good health. From time to time he voices yet again how fascinating the miracle of birth is and how proud he is of you, also checking your health.
Echo: Spends the first few weeks only holding the baby when sitting down. He can't get over how fragile they are, and he just sits there and stares at them as long as he can in amazement and adoration before they wake up from their nap or fuss about something they need. When the baby bursts into a fit of wails, he goes into a bit of a panic mode worrying about what's wrong. Eventually, he gets more comfortable and gets used to the idea that the baby is just communicating a need. It doesn't take long for him to become a professional dad. He gets pretty organized with the diaper bag and supplies so that he can just pull out whatever the baby needs at the drop of a hat.
Crosshair: He spends a good while just quietly holding the baby in his arms and watching them. Internally, he thinks they're absolutely precious and realizes he loves them so much. He already knew he'd love them, but he didn't realize it would feel like this. The baby is heart-wrenchingly cute, and he'd do anything to protect them. You come to find that he becomes more vocal, telling the baby in a sort of Crosshair-style sarcasm that they need to get their act together every time he has to handle a diaper change, feeding, etc. He's up with you at any hour day or night to help with the baby without a complaint, and regularly makes sure you're taking care of yourself also.
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stellarbit · 28 days
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Shifting Loyalties
No warnings. 2.3k words
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You're a dropout Jedi who left with Echo to join the Bad Batch. You and The Batch are assigned to work with the 501st. The Batch get a bit spicy about how friendly you are with the regs.
Inspired by physical touch by @queenariesofnarnia :') it's perfect
First attempt at the boys but bro I had so much fun with this. I'm definitely going to be doin more cause it gave me ideas for days. Enjoyyyyy
The Marauder's landing ramp wasn't halfway extended, and your foot tapped with anticipation. Spotting the 501st squadron as you descended, they stood in a group, not in formation, eagerly awaiting your arrival. Working with the Bad Batch was a thrill, but you couldn't deny missing your first squad.
When Echo departed, Hunter extended you the same offer to join the Bad Batch. As a Jedi dropout, you no longer belonged on Coruscant or in the Order. Your path diverged, but that didn't mean you didn't occasionally yearn for your old teammates.
Before it was fully safe to exit, you hurled yourself out of the ship, dashing toward the awaiting clones. The Batch were momentarily stunned; even Tech tore his eyes away from his datapad at your sudden outburst.
"Shorty!" Fives exclaimed as you barrelled into his arms, spinning you around before settling you among your old squad.
"Shorty?" Crosshair sneered, visibly annoyed by what he was seeing. You darted between the regs, embracing each one, sometimes two at a time.
You meshed well with the Batch, but they weren't the touchy-feely type. Consequently, you lacked the courage to breach physical boundaries, especially considering how often you seemed to get under their skin. After your fallout with the Order, you couldn't risk facing any more rejection.
As the Batch followed after you, Wrecker swiveled his head toward his brothers, clearly confused. "Wha- what's going on?" He scratched his head, gesturing in your direction. "What's all that about?" He referred to your playful antics with the group of regs, laughing and roughhousing like a child.
You weren't cold toward them; in fact, you engaged in comfortable teasing. However, you maintained a professional distance, refraining from physical contact, let alone running into their arms.
Echo shrugged, a smile playing on his lips as he reminisced about his former life. "She's just saying hi," he explained. "She served with the 501st for a long time, even before I was taken to Skako Minor." Nostalgia washed over him at the sight of you standing with his 501st brothers - just like old times.
Hunter blinked in astonishment. "That's normal for her?" He had never witnessed you so carefree and jovial before.
Tech tucked his datapad away, adjusting his goggles as he observed the scene. "By their reactions, this doesn't seem abnormal for her. Why this is the first time we're witnessing it, I'm uncertain." He turned to Echo. "Have you seen this behavior before?"
"Sure, but you're all overthinking it," Echo replied, realizing the tension building among his brothers. "She's just comfortable with them." He regretted the last sentence immediately, sensing their egos regarding regular clones turning this joyful reunion into an unspoken competition.
"If she's so comfortable with them," Crosshair spat, "Maybe she should go back to her precious regs." It was exactly the response Echo feared.
The group watched as you responded to Jesse's teasing with a flirtatious elbow, then stumbled slightly into Rex, who steadied you with a hand on your shoulder.
"It's good to see you. Keeping Echo out of trouble?" Rex smiled down at you, then glanced at Echo standing among the Batch. His smile faded upon noticing Clone Force 99 in various stages of glowering. He patted your shoulder. "Uh… why don't you find General Skywalker while I brief the rest of your squad?"
Without a glance back at the Batch, you followed the order. Anakin briefed you on the mission before easing into conversation. "How are you holding up?" He leaned against a crate of supplies.
"It was hard at first, but I feel…" You paused, feeling a warmth spreading over your chest, grateful it rarely reached your cheeks. "At home with the Batch." You couldn't suppress the smile the thought of the Batch brought you. They made your life exciting, and you felt safe fighting alongside them.
Anakin hadn't missed the looks Clone Force 99 threw your way, especially the nastier ones aimed at the clones you hugged. "I'm glad to hear that, Short Stuff." When Hunter and Wrecker glanced over at the two of you with something like disdain, Anakin smirked. Oh, this is too easy. He leaned down just enough so that your face eclipsed his, just out of sight of the Batchers. "Though, it looks like your new crew isn't too happy with you."
You jerked back, incredulous. "Excuse me?" By the time you whipped around, the Batch were already to the Marauder. Everything seemed normal. You shoved Anakin back. "Kriff off, Skywalker."
Anakin raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. Anyway, it looks like it's time for you to rejoin your squad. Good luck."
"Pfft, good luck?" You pulled a face and cracked your neck. "I don't need luck on missions." You may have missed the Jedi General, but you did not miss his arrogant humor.
Anakin smirked as you headed back out and out of earshot. "It wasn't for the mission."
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Inside the ship, the atmosphere shifted when you returned. Hunter, Wrecker, Crosshair, Tech, and Echo were scattered about on various tasks, their sudden silence and exchanged glances going unnoticed by you as you busied yourself with pulling out sleeping supplies. There was no way you were missing a chance to sleep off the ship.
Sat cleaning his gun, Crosshair’s eyes bore into your back. It didn’t take Hunter’s senses for you to feel his glare. Still packing, you said over your shoulder, “What is it, Crosshair?”
“Oh, nothing,” Crosshair sneered, leaning forward. “Just didn’t realize you missed your regs so much.”
“And why wouldn’t I miss them?” You snorted, not realizing that earned you an even nastier look from the white-haired clone. “Some people have friends, Crosshair. What’s wrong with that?”
Raising an eyebrow, you turned to face him, a smirk playing on your lips. "And what's wrong with that? Some of us actually have friends, you know."
Tech, engrossed in a control panel, interjected, "He's not questioning your friendships. He's just pointing out the obvious preference you seem to have for your old squadmates."
Your hands stilled, and you turned to face them, sensing an underlying tension in the air. "What's going on here?"
Wrecker shuffled awkwardly, his expression troubled. "We just thought you were happier with us."
"I am happy!" you exclaimed. "But it's natural to be excited to see old friends, isn't it?"
When Wrecker’s defeated look didn’t change you looked to Hunter, the sensible brother, for relief. Instead, he had his arms crossed and eyes fixed away from you.
They can’t be serious. You started to turn to Echo when Crosshair abruptly got up, setting his gun aside, and loomed over you within a second.
“Don’t look at Echo to save you,” Crosshair growled, his voice low and menacing. As Crosshair rose from his seat, his eyes narrowed at you. "You seem a little too cozy with them for just 'old friends.'" You tried to step away, but found yourself backed against the counter behind you.
“Cross,” Hunter warned, but his brother didn’t heed the caution, slamming a hand on the shelf a few inches from your face.
The close proximity allowed you to catch Crosshair's scent—gun oil and mint—a combination you'd never been so close to before. It left you breathless, barely able to formulate a response. Crosshair raked his eyes over you as he idly lolled a toothpick around his mouth. He leaned in close. “Why so shy now, Shorty?” he taunted, his voice dropping even lower.
Despite the shiver you felt at the nickname rolling off Crosshair’s tongue, ignored the jibe. “What’s your problem with ‘Shorty’?” you bit back, unwilling to back down.
Tech swiftly wedged himself between you and Crosshair, his tone firm but diplomatic. "Let's not act like children here." Placing a hand on your chest and the other on Crosshair's shoulder, he continued, "Although 'Shorty' might not be the most accurate nickname. If you prefer something else-"
His voice trailed off as he noticed the flush creeping up your chest and spreading to your cheeks and ears. Tech's wide eyes darted between your face and his hand, realizing the unintended intimacy of his touch. "Oh," he stammered, but didn’t pull back his hand. "I-I apologize."
Feeling the weight of their collective stares, you squirmed uncomfortably, yearning for some space to breathe. Tech's touch, coupled with Crosshair's taunting sent a flurry of conflicting emotions coursing through you, rendering you speechless. It seemed like every part of you was reacting, including that one lower part that seemed to have a mind of its own.
Before the tension could escalate further, Echo chimed in with an observation. "Well, I've never seen that before."
Returning to reality, you brushed Tech's hand away and swiftly grabbed your sleeping gear, attempting to regain your composure. "You're all acting like a bunch of-"
"It looks like our sarad is finally blossoming," Crosshair mocked, his voice laced with amusement.
Unable to take another word from him, you shoved past Tech to lunge on Crosshair, whose scowl was now a shit eating smirk. “I’ll wipe that smug-”
Hunter jumped in to hold you back. “Back off, Cross.” You were still grabbing for Crosshair when Hunter’s firm grip on your waist registered with you. You stiffened as Hunter detangled your arms from his shoulder and pulled you aside. He turned to you and surprised you by gently cupped your cheek. “Listen, we’re not trying to upset you.”
You were too aware of all the places your bodies had just touched - where his hands had been. It was all too much and with his hand on your face you simply couldn’t move.
The unexpected closeness and the warmth of his touch left you momentarily stunned, struggling to process the flood of sensations. With an effort to maintain your composure, you pulled away from Hunter's touch, grabbing your gear tightly. But before you could make your escape, Wrecker wrapped you in his arms and wrung you off your feet. “Aw, don’t be mad, we were just worried!” All you could focus on was the size of his hands and how nice his arms felt. When he dropped you, you just stood hunched over with a death grip on your sleeping pack.
The way you just stood at the mouth of the ship wide eyed and huffing, you probably looked like a deranged blurg. You felt deranged. In mere minutes you’d gone from composed to weak kneed simply from a few touches and teases. Being the center of their attention in those minutes had lit something in you that was quickly getting out of control. You still couldn’t manage words when you took off down the Marauder’s ramp.
At once Hunter, Wrecker, Crosshair, and Tech looked back at Echo. Echo echoed the collective astonishment, his tone tinged with bewilderment. "I've never seen her act like that before."
Tech, ever the analyzer, observed the physical signs of your distress with keen interest. He looked down at the hand he'd placed on your chest. "Her heart rate and temperature were elevated," he noted, his analytical nature kicking in. "Her coloring was..." He paused, searching for the right word, "...unexpectedly vibrant." Tech was quick to record his observations, whether mentally or digitally, finding your behavior to be a fascinating new discovery.
"Intriguing," Tech mused, adjusting his glasses with a confident shrug. "Her conduct with us doesn't align with her interactions with her former squadron. This divergence suggests a remarkably positive correlation." His conclusion was delivered with a note of excitement, indicative of his realization of the significance of your reaction. "And I am seldom wrong."
Each member of the Bad Batch absorbed Tech's assessment in their own way, contemplating the implications of your behavior.
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When it was time to part ways with the 501st, you made your good-byes. The Batch weren’t much for good-byes, aside from Echo giving an extra farewell to Rex, they watched on from the mouth of the Marauder. You didn’t know when, or if, you’d see them again so you were saying good-bye to each clone.
Jesse sauntered over to the Batch as you engaged in one last round of roughhousing with Fives. He glanced at you, then at the Batch. An obvious jab that didn't fail to elicit a snarl from Crosshair. “Looks like she's clinging to her ‘regs’ a bit too tightly,” he remarked, his tone laced with thinly veiled mockery. Crosshair's lip curled in response, a silent warning brewing beneath his steely exterior. “Maybe it's time she remembers where she belongs.”
“Ay! Sarad!” Wrecker’s voice boomed out suddenly, your head immediately snapping to attention. “You comin’ or what?”
Tech, with a slight adjustment to his goggles, couldn't help but notice the telltale signs of your embarrassment—the faint flush creeping up your cheeks, the nervous smile that flickered across your lips. It was a sight that stirred something in his usually analytical mind. “Looks like she's right where she belongs,” he remarked softly, a rare hint of sentimentality in his tone.
Jesse let out a huff of resignation. “I suppose so. Just make sure you take care of her,” he muttered before slipping away.
As Wrecker slung his arm around your shoulders, nearly toppling you over, you hesitated for a moment. But instead of pulling away, you returned the gesture with a small hip bump, a silent olive branch. This is really going to take some getting used to.
Hunter, helmet tucked under his arm, stepped forward. “If you ever decide you want to go back to the 501st... we'd understand,” he offered, his tone tinged with sincerity.
You shook your head with a laugh, stepping out of Wrecker’s embrace. Playfully knocking an elbow into Hunter’s side, you grinned. “You think I’d trade you guys for the 501st? Not a chance,” you replied, your words carrying a hint of affection.
“Oh, spare us the sentimentality,” Crosshair interjected dryly, though the faint twitch of his lip betrayed a hint of amusement.
As you stood among the Batch, you laughed to yourself. This is going to be fun.
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Note
Hi. Can you write something spicy with Wrecker x f! reader with the prompt 62. “Is that my shirt?” Maybe reader needs new clothes during a mission and she forgets her spares on Kamino, leading her to wear Wrecker's. She takes advantage of the situation to tease him a little, but we know Wrecker is a little innocent, until Crosshair opens his eyes.. "If you don't fu** her, I will." 😂
Hi,
Thank you so much for this request, I absolutely loved writing it!
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What's Mine is Yours
While working on a mission on Corellia, a clothing mishap leads to much more than you anticipated.
Pairing: Wrecker x F!reader
Word count: 4.2k
Rating: 18+ MINORS DNI!
Warnings: accidental clothes sharing, reader described as busty, lewd comment as motivation (one guess who it comes from…), confession of feelings, idiots in love, first kiss, oral (f!receiving), face sitting, fingering, semi-clothed sex, unprotected PiV, squint for size and strength kink.
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“Where the hell is it?” You huff, hands scrambling through your backpack as you pull out your belongings, scattering them across the dresser in the dingy hotel room.
You and the boys had been sent to Bela Vistal, a small mountain city on Corellia. The Jedi had caught wind of a shady auction, with whispers of a Holocron up for grabs. It was your job as a squad to scope the place out, gather as much intel as possible, and strike and extract the Holocron if the opportunity presented itself.
By now, you’re used to working with limited information. As a civilian handler, it was your job to fill in the blanks and help the boys with anything they needed to successfully complete their missions – something you’d spent over a year doing remarkably well at. Today that had included wandering around the city with Tech, pretending to be together – out of them all, his appearance was less likely to arouse suspicion. You’d conversed politely with market vendors and cantina owners, asking subtle questions to discover more about the auction.
Ultimately, it had been a fruitless endeavour, and the pair of you had returned to the hotel as the sun had been setting, food in hand. You’d excused yourself after eating, slipping back into your room via the door connecting the two rooms you’d rented for a quick shower.
And now here you were, furiously rifling through your belongings for a clean shirt. You’d packed one; you swore you had. Fingers finding soft fabric, you let out a small noise of triumph, prying the material from your backpack. Towel falling to the floor, you shimmed on a clean pair of panties and some sleep shorts before dragging on the top. Only once it was over your head did you realise something was off. Either you’d suddenly lost a lot of weight or…
Scrambling for the neckline, you twist and turn until you can see the tag and the large ‘W’ sewn into it. “Dank farrik.” You mutter, teeth sinking into your lower lip at the realisation that you’d somehow packed Wrecker’s shirt instead of your own.
Taking a deep breath, you looked at yourself in the mirror on the back of the fresher door. The oversized garment hit mid-thigh, the sleeves extending far beyond your hands. The only saving grace was that your boobs took up enough room that it gave the shirt a little bit of shape. You couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation.
The thought of going out into the field wearing Wrecker’s clothing was hilarious, but your laughter soon subsided as you really looked at yourself. Oversized it might be, but it almost…suited you. And though it was clean, you lifted the collar to your nose and inhaled, picking up on a sweet scent that seemed to linger on all of Wrecker’s belongings.
You’d found great comfort in that scent over the last few months, drawn towards Wrecker and his infectious grin. Lips tugging into a smile, a tender warmth spread through you as you thought about the countless times Wrecker had been there to lighten the mood with his quips and laughter and how his protective nature made you feel secure amid the uncertainties of life.
The realisation of what your feelings meant hit you like a wave, and as you stood there, a myriad of emotions swirled within you. The laughter that had filled the room moments ago was replaced by a soft, introspective silence. As you continued to gaze at yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t help but acknowledge the depth of your connection with Wrecker. It went beyond the professional companionship forged across dangerous missions. It was something more personal, something that had quietly grown amidst the chaos of your work.
“Oh, kriff…” You whisper, staring at your own wide-eyed reflection. The sound of a knock on the connecting door interrupts your thoughts. Startled, you turn towards it, momentarily forgetting about the shirt you were wearing. Smoothing down the fabric, you move across to open the door, revealing Hunter.
“Thought you might’ve drowned.” He quips as the door opens; your showers never usually take so long. Gaze dropping down, Hunter takes in the sight of you, chuckling. “Well, looks like you’re drowning, alright.”
“I must’ve grabbed the wrong shirt in our hurry to leave Kamino.” You admit sheepishly, feeling warmth in your cheeks as Hunter steps aside, revealing you to his brothers.
To his credit, Tech offers you a reassuring smile while Crosshair snorts in amusement. But it’s Wrecker’s reaction that catches you off guard the most.
Wrecker’s eyes widen as his gaze rakes down your body. “I-Is that my shirt?” He asks, swallowing thickly. Heat creeps across his cheeks as he admires you, the curves of your body making it look entirely different than it did on him. He can feel the heavy thud of his heart, and for a moment, the room is filled with an almost tangible tension. Wrecker stands frozen, his eyes locked onto you.
“Yeah, I, uh, must’ve grabbed it by mistake.” You stammer, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his intense gaze.
Wrecker blinks, tearing his eyes away from you to glance at Hunter, Tech, and Crosshair. Hunter raises an eyebrow, clearly finding the situation entertaining but not commenting further. Tech adjusts his goggles, a knowing glint in his eyes, while Crosshair smirks, thoroughly amused. Clearing his throat, Wrecker manages to break the silence. “Well, it looks... good on ya.”
The sincerity in his voice surprises you, and you catch a flicker of something in his eyes that you can’t quite place. You give a nervous laugh, trying to diffuse the awkwardness. “Thanks, Wreck. I’ll wash it and get it back to you.”
“Nah, keep it.” He says quickly, almost too quickly. “Looks better on you anyway.”
The room falls into another awkward silence as Wrecker scratches the back of his head, unsure how to navigate the sudden shift in the atmosphere. It’s rare to see the big, boisterous man at a loss for words.
Hunter, always the pragmatist, breaks the tension. “Alright, enough of the fashion show. We’ve got a mission to focus on.”
The seriousness of the mission looms over the room, momentarily overshadowing the awkwardness. You gather around the table, holomaps of the city and your datapads spread out as you discuss the action plan.
As the discussion progresses, Wrecker finds his eyes straying to you often, trying to commit the vision of you in his clothes to memory, the way it drapes over your frame and the subtle scent of your shampoo that he knows will linger on the garment now too.
The realisation hits him like a ton of bricks – the feelings he’s been trying to suppress, the concern that goes beyond the missions, the warmth he feels when you’re around – it’s all there, staring him in the face.
Wrecker clears his throat again, attempting to focus on the plan you’re all hashing out, not the crazy beating of his heart. He chimes in enthusiastically, but his mind keeps drifting back to you. As the planning continues, Wrecker catches the knowing look Tech throws him. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, trying to concentrate. He wonders if you feel the same, if the newfound awareness is mutual.
Finally, the planning ends, and with your usual round of goodnights, you’re back in your room, the connecting door firmly shut. Only once you’re gone does Wrecker feel like he can breathe again.
“Real subtle there, big guy,” Hunter comments, giving Wrecker’s shoulder a pat as he passes him.
“What?” Wrecker questions, playing dumb. He’s not quite ready to admit his feelings to his brothers; he’s just starting to come to terms with the recent revelation.
None of them are fooled. Tech reaches up, adjusting his goggles. “You were admiring her quite intently.” He points out.
“I would, too, if she were wearing my shirt.” Crosshair chimes in, leaning back on the small couch in the room, propping his feet up on the table as he feels Wrecker’s eyes narrow in his direction. “But hey, if you won’t kriff her, I will.” He comments, unafraid to poke the bear.
In sync, Hunter and Tech facepalm.
A flash of anger courses through Wrecker. “You wouldn’t.” He growls, hating the very idea. 
“Wouldn’t I?” Crosshair goads. “She’s a pretty little thing. Bet she’d looked even prettier underne-“
“Hey!” Wrecker’s sharp shout cuts him off. “You don’t talk about her like that. She deserves better, and I won’t let ya disrespect her. Not when she’s the best thing to happen to us in a long while and always lookin’ out for us.”
Amusement curls at Crosshair’s lips. Truth told, forcing those words out had been horrible – he respected you too much – but it had given him the ammunition he needed to make his point. “Hm, sounds like you might have some feelings there, Wrecker.”
Realising he’s been caught in one of his younger brother’s traps, Wrecker groans in frustration, shooting Crosshair a glare that bounces straight off him. With a sigh, Wrecker’s shoulders sag, and he glances over his shoulder towards the connecting door to your room.
Worry curls through him. He did have feelings for you, that much he’d realised, but he wasn’t sure how you felt. The thought of making things awkward or disrupting the dynamics of the squad by introducing personal feelings weighed heavily on Wrecker’s mind.
Hunter picks up on his brother’s internal struggle. “Wrecker, if you’ve got something to say to her, just say it. We’re all adults here. We’ve faced worse than admitting feelings.”
Wrecker sighs. “I just don’t wanna mess things up, y’know? What if she don’t feel the same way, and it makes things weird?”
Tech chips in with his usual logical perspective. “Statistically speaking, relationships formed within a close-knit team can enhance cooperation and overall performance. Emotional bonds can be beneficial.”
Wrecker shoots Tech an incredulous look. “You suggestin’ I tell her I like her ’cause it’s statistically beneficial?”
Tech pushes his goggles back up his nose. “I am merely presenting a logical argument in favour of expressing one’s emotions.”
A noise of frustration slides from Crosshair’s lips, and he pushes himself off the couch. Grabbing Wrecker by the arm, he drags him over to the connecting door, banging his fist against it a few times. “She was eyeing you up, too. Don’t overthink. That’s Tech’s job.” He insists, returning to the couch, shaking his head while muttering about Wrecker’s lack of game.
Hearing you say the door was unlocked, Wrecker takes a deep breath before pushing it open, sliding into your room, letting it click shut behind him.
With Wrecker gone, Hunter, Tech, and Crosshair exchange glances before arranging themselves on the couch to play Sabacc. “You swapped her shirt out of her pack,” Hunter comments as Tech deals the deck, his eyes darting over to Crosshair.
With a shrug of his shoulders, Crosshair doesn’t bother answering; instead, he picks up his cards. Hunter couldn’t prove anything.
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Looking up from the dresser, where you’d been trying to organise your belongings back into your backpack, you smile at the sight of Wrecker standing with his back pressed to the door. “Hey, Wreck. Everything okay?” You ask, abandoning your repacking to give the gentle giant your full attention.
Wrecker’s heart pounds in his chest as he steps further into your room, the weight of the revelation he’d shared with his brothers settling in his chest. He grapples with the best way to express his feelings to you, scratching the back of his neck out of nervous habit.
“Uh, yeah, everything’s fine.” He mumbles, avoiding direct eye contact for a moment. “I, um, just wanted to talk to ya about somethin’.”
You tilt your head curiously, a small smile playing on your lips. “Sure. What’s on your mind?”
Wrecker took another deep breath, his gaze finally meeting yours. “Well, it’s about... us. I mean, you and me. I’ve been feelin’ things, and I just gotta say it. I really like you. I like ya a lot.”
The sincerity in his voice is unmistakable, and your heartbeat quickens in response. Surprise paints your face, delight seeping into your veins that your feelings were returned – that he’d come here to share them with you.
“Wreck.” You begin, your voice soft. “I’ve... I’ve been feeling the same way. I just didn’t know how to say it.”
Relief washes over Wrecker’s features, and a wide, genuine smile spreads across his face. “Really?” he asks as if confirming that he wasn’t dreaming.
You nod, your own smile mirroring his. “Really.”
Wrecker chuckles nervously. “Well, guess Crosshair wasn’t entirely wrong about us eyein’ each other up.”
Your jaw drops a little. You’d thought you were being subtle, but you should’ve known the man with super-human vision would catch you out.
Wrecker takes a step closer, gently cupping your face in his large hands, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. “I’m not great with words, but I really do care about ya.” He confesses.
“I care about you too, Wreck. And you don’t need to be great with words.” You reply, your eyes locked with his. “Actions speak louder.”
“Then let me show ya.” Wrecker murmurs, head dipping down to kiss your lips tenderly. Large hands move to rest on your hips, pulling you closer. One of your hands finds home at the nape of his neck, keeping his lips against yours as the other settles on his upper arm.
You taste like heaven, like everything Wrecker has ever wanted and dreamed about. His grip on you tightens ever so slightly, but he’s cautious, not wanting to accidentally hurt you. The kiss breaks a moment later, eyes locked on one another as you pull apart, chests heaving. Desire swirls in your gaze, and Wrecker wants to worship you. But he’s conflicted – is this too soon? Do you want this too?
Palms smoothing across Wrecker’s body, you take his hands in your own, walking backwards the few steps to the bed. Sinking to sit on the edge of it, you guide Wrecker down with you, a thrill zinging through you as he wraps an arm around your middle and hauls you further up the bed before settling above you. With one hand supporting most of his weight, you marvel at how warm and broad he is, your body hidden under his as he presses against you, lips finding yours again for a searing kiss.
You’re so small beneath him, so delicate and so pretty, with your hair fanned across the sheets, your beautiful eyes looking up at him with such adoration. Wrecker can’t resist kissing you again, savouring your shared feelings. Tentatively, his hand roams to your thighs, large palm smoothing across soft skin, creeping up, ruching his shirt as his fingers skim under the edge of your sleep shorts.
The gentle touch makes your breath stutter, a low noise sliding from your lips, muffled by the kiss.
Wrecker pulls back, watching as your eyes flutter open. “Too much, babe?” He asks quietly, unsure whether the noise is good and not wanting to push too much.
Shaking your head, you lean up to pepper kisses across his jawline. “More. Please.” You ask, heat building in your belly.
Thrilled, Wrecker breaks out into a grin, shivering as your hands pry his shirt up and off his body. Your fingers fan over his bare chest, tracing every muscle and scar. His pants are next to be discarded, your sleep shorts joining them on the floor before your lips meet again in a needy kiss. Your panties go, followed by his boxers, but as you go to remove his shirt, Wrecker’s fingers still the action.
“Leave it on, babe.” He admits, a flush on his cheeks. There was something so intrinsically hot about you wearing his clothes.
A noise of delight leaves you, followed quickly by one of surprise as Wrecker rolls you both, placing himself beneath you. Straddling him, it’s impossible to ignore the press of his thick, hard cock. It feels enormous, and you’re almost afraid to look down.
Thankfully, you’re spared as Wrecker grabs your ass, huge hands dwarfing it as he hauls you up his body.
Wrecker groans, hands squeezing as he draws you further up. “Want you to sit on my face, babe. Lemme eat that pretty pussy before I kriff ya.”
Heat strikes through you, pussy clenching around nothing at Wrecker’s request. “I-I don’t wanna suffocate you.” You worry as you’re lifted over his face, knees on either side of his head. Warmth blossoms across your cheeks as he stares right at your cunt.
“Ya won’t. And even if you do, what a way to go.” Wrecker growls, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he gazes up at your pussy. Gently, he encourages you down, groaning in satisfaction as you rest lightly against his face – nose and mouth brushing against your slick folds. “That ain’t sittin’.” He grumbles as he notices you trying to hold up some of your weight. Using a little more of his strength, he pulls you down until you’re firmly against his face, his nose pressed to your clit as his tongue laves over your entrance.
“Oh, hells…” You cry out, holding onto the headboard with one hand while the other lands on Wrecker’s head. That first lick of his tongue had felt incredible.
Wrecker feasts, your pussy his new favourite meal. The taste of you fills his mouth, and he moans, dragging his nose across your clit, tongue sloppy as he laves at you before pointing it and pressing it into your hole. He takes a breath whenever he can, drawing the flat of his tongue up through your folds to flick across your clit, lips latching around the sensitive bud so he can suck on it, brushing his tongue over it at the same time.
White hot pleasure is all you can feel, hips rocking as you ride his face, chasing your high. Your hand strokes across his head, fingers gliding over scarred skin. “Kriff, Wreck. Yes. Just like that.” You encourage, pleasure building quickly.
The stretch catches you off guard, two of his thick fingers pressing into you, crooking, as his mouth focuses on your clit. Head thrown back, his name falls from your lips as you come, thighs shaking and pussy spasming around his fingers as the pleasure rolls through your body.
Working you through the high, Wrecker gently pries his mouth off your clit, fingers slowly scissoring as he stretches you out a little more now that you’re more relaxed. He knows he’s big, and the last thing he wants is to hurt you.
Your hips roll slowly, grinding lazily against his face once again as he continues working you open, another thick finger joining the two already buried inside you. Biting down on your lower lip to muffle your moan, the trembles from your orgasm subside.
Fingers slip from you, hands finding your hips. Lifted, you’re moved back down Wrecker’s body until he can kiss you, mouth and chin covered in your juices. You gasp at the taste, at the way his tongue presses into your mouth, and you lazily make out.
Slowly you draw apart; Wrecker’s fingers that weren’t buried in your pussy move to push your hair out of your face tenderly.
The throb between your thighs intensifies, and you lift your hips, shifting until you can grind down against Wrecker’s cock. The rumble in his chest does funny things to your inside, and you smile. “I wanna ride your cock, too.” You state sweetly, enjoying the delight that flares in Wrecker’s eyes.
Scooting back just a little so you rest on his thighs, you drag your gaze from his face to finally take in his cock. It’s much thicker than any you’ve seen before – in person and on the holonet – and longer than average.
He curves a little to the right, the tip flushed a deep red, a bead of pre-cum in the slit. Taking him in hand, his groan reverberates through the room, and you can’t help but dip down to lap at him, the tang on your tongue dragging a sound from you that Wrecker echoes.
Your fingers don’t touch around him, and for a moment, you worry you won’t be able to take him. Shuffling forward a tiny bit until you’re back in your previous position, you line him up with your entrance, pressing just the tip in, and slowly start to sink down, letting gravity do the work.
Wrecker’s pretty sure he’s shaking – from anticipation or barely-there control, he’s not sure. All he does know is that his hands are wrapped around your hips to help guide you but not force you down, and inch by agonising inch, his dick is slowly being enveloped in the heat of your pussy.
The stretch burns a little, even after an orgasm and three fingers working you open. Taking your time, you let out deep breaths as you sink down until you’re finally flush, feeling fuller than ever. 
“Stars above, Wreck.” You pant, holding his gaze as you adjust to the feeling. His jaw is clenched, soft brown eyes looking at you with such profound adoration, like he can’t quite believe this is happening. His hands on your hips slide upward, under the edge of his shirt, until he’s grasping at your waist.
Steadily, you give a small roll of your hips, rising ever so slightly before sinking back down. The action pulls a moan from you, Wrecker’s head tilting back against the bed, his groan mingling with your needy sounds. Finding a rhythm, you lean back a little, hands resting on his muscular thighs as warmth builds in your belly with every rise and fall. The burn of the stretch dissolves into pleasure.
Chin tilting down, Wrecker watches as you ride him, how your lips part with every little whimper and sigh, and your tits bounce beneath his shirt. The sight goes straight to his cock, hand sliding up from your waist until he can palm your breasts under the garment, fingers pressed against soft flesh. You’re a handful, even for him, and he grunts, thumb and forefinger tweaking your pebbled nipples.
The whine you let out is delicious, and his gaze roves down your body, settling on where the two of you are connected, watching how he slides in and out of your pussy. The sight, the sounds, and the feeling of you around him push him closer and closer to the edge. Fingers smoothing back down your body, they press against your clit, firm circles rubbed against the sensitive nub.
“Kriff. Kriff. Kriff.” You curse, eyes screwed shut as the warmth grows towards an inferno. Pitching forward, you change the angle, hands resting against his broad chest, providing better leverage as your pace quickens. Your thighs start to ache, but you’ll be damned if you let that stop you.
“That’s it, babe. Hells, your pussy feels so kriffin’ good.” Wrecker pants, his words helping push you over the edge. Your body goes taut above him, pleasure contorting your face as you clamp down around him, coming on his cock with a cry of his name. He keeps his fingers moving, working you through the high until the tremors in your body stop and your hazy eyes open to meet his.
You share a soft smile, and Wrecker surges up, lips meeting yours for a passionate kiss as he grasps back at your hips. Holding you in place, his hips snap quickly as he fucks up into you, chasing his high now you’ve been satisfied.
Tongues meeting, the kiss is frantic and messy, noises muffled by each other’s lips. You pull back just enough to gaze down at him. “Come in me. Please.” Your needy whine reverberates around the room.
You were perfect. So perfect. Your pleading words, the grip of your tight pussy around him… Wrecker’s thrusts falter, and with two more sharp snaps of his hips, he pushes himself deep inside you, growling out your name as he’s swept into pleasure, filling you.
The room falls silent except for your harsh breaths, gazes locked before you steal another kiss. Slower and softer, the lust dissolves into something sweeter. Strong arms wrap around you, and you’re rolled onto your side, pulled flush against Wrecker’s body as he pries his lips from yours. He smiles, and you can’t help but match it, a giggle bubbling up and out. The sound of Wrecker’s chuckle melds with yours, happiness simmering between you.
“You okay?” Wrecker asks, one hand smoothing across your cheek, cupping your face.
You lean into his touch with a small nod, eyes fluttering shut. Wrecker’s hand is warm against your face as he caresses you, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your cheek. The aftermath of shared intimacy leaves you feeling content and connected.
Overjoyed, Wrecker presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, hand sliding down your body to wrap back around you as he holds you close. Now he has you, he’s never going to let you go.
In the cocoon of his embrace, you slowly drift into a serene slumber, knowing you’ve found a sanctuary that feels like home in his arms.
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fvck-the-patriarchy · 9 months
Text
*on Tatooine*
Y/n: I am so hot.
Hunter: Yes you─ I mean, yeah, it's hot in here.
Echo: *snorts*
781 notes · View notes
clu-ven · 1 year
Text
Uh oh... there's only one bed! The Bad Batch Edition
word count: 2.1k - tw: mention of nightmares
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After getting ambushed by some bounty hunters, what started off as a simple job quickly became a shootout. Luckily, no one got hurt but thanks to a few explosions and blaster fire from almost every direction, the Batch got split up. 
Thankfully the bounty hunters retreated after the initial shootout, jumping on their speeders and fleeing. Although this makes things a bit easier, you’re still separated, with most of the Batch already regrouped. Now the last two people left to join them are you and him, the both of you side by side and listening intently to the others over an encrypted comm channel. 
After some debating, the Batch concludes that you two should find somewhere to spend the night and join them back at the ship tomorrow, deeming the trek back to the Marauder too dangerous after dark.
Once you find a gloomy (but cheap) motel, you go up to the main desk and ask for a room. With the excitement of the day turning into exhaustion, neither you or him think of clarifying what kind of room you want, presuming the receptionist gives you the key to a twin room. 
Expecting to see two beds in the room, your eyes go wide when you open the door to see only one…
HUNTER
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Entering the room to see only one bed, Hunter sighs, his shoulder deflating. It’s been a long, strenuous day and debating over who gets the bed isn’t what he needs right now.
He automatically offers it to you, not only out of exhaustion but because he genuinely thinks you deserve it more. Hunter’s never had a comfy bed, often preferring to nap on the chairs aboard the Marauder than the actual bunks. So the way he sees it, sleeping on the floor is more familiar to him.
But of course this doesn’t suit you, insisting that he takes the bed instead. He’s too tired to do this “No you should have it” “No you” debate and so he’s quick to compromise, commenting on how the bed is big enough for the both of you.
Hunter’s extremely respectful when you’re both in the bed together. He keeps close to the edge of the bed and opts to sleep on his side so he takes up as little space as possible.
And that should be it… both of you staying on your respective sides of the bed and nodding off to sleep.
But that doesn’t sit right with Hunter.
He’s overtired but being in a new environment means his senses are on high alert. Hunter doesn’t see how he’s supposed to get any rest while his senses are completely on edge. And so he turns to the one thing his senses are familiar with… you.
You hear him turn over and within a few seconds, you feel Hunter’s arm slowly wrap around you. He does this very cautiously, keeping an eye out for any sign of discomfort from you. But when you let out a soft sigh and move towards Hunter, he takes that as a good sign.
With his arms around you, Hunter nuzzles his face into your hair. Your scent grounds him, your body acting as a safety blanket to his senses as he finally drifts off to sleep.
He keeps his arms around you during the night and when you wake in the morning, you find your head softly pressed against his chest and Hunter’s face still covered by your hair. He wouldn’t speak about this afterwards, unsure what to say or how to explain his need to have you close but if you ever find yourself in a similar situation, Hunter will definitely be cuddling you again.
TECH
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When Tech sees the bed, he understands what the most logical solution is… albeit slightly flustering to think about.
Sharing the bed means the two of you will get some proper rest and considering you’ll both need to make it back to the ship tomorrow, rest is something you both desperately need.
But Tech doesn’t suggest it immediately, taking his time to look around the small room for any viable alternatives. He could sleep on the floor but considering the large amount of stains and random discolouring, Tech’s pretty sure he’ll catch some kind of sickness if he lays down on it.
Already beginning to build a barrier of pillows down the middle of the bed, he shares his thoughts with you and how he believes sharing the bed is the best option.  You (obviously) don’t oppose his plan and help him with the barrier.
But is the barrier needed? Nope, in fact within an hour, you’re already dismantling the pillow barrier.
You both try to get some sleep but after the events of the day, you’re worried and ask Tech what he thinks will happen next. That turns into a conversation about if the Empire will ever truly let the Batch go and then discussing what you both hope to do in that ideal world, where the Batch is truly free. During this conversation, you both begin removing pillows from your barrier, finding it hard to have such a deep conversation with pillows blocking your view of one another.
Tech knows he should cut the conversation short and get some much needed rest, but there’s something within him that stops him from doing so. Usually it’s impossible to talk with you for this long without some kind of interruption from the others.
It’s rare to get so much time to talk to you one on one and now that he has all night with you, Tech doesn’t want to waste it. Kriff, fantasising about the future is the last thing Tech would normally do but with you? He can do it all night if you want.
It’s almost the early hours of the morning by the time you drift off to sleep, your head lazily resting against Tech’s shoulder as your eyes begin to close.
Tech doesn’t mind, shortly drifting off to sleep after you with a small smile on his face and arm wrapped protectively around you.
WRECKER
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This doesn’t really phase Wrecker. The second his eyes land on the lone bed, he only has one question; do you want to be the big spoon or little spoon?
The way he sees it, there’s not much he can do to change this nor is this a big deal to him.
You’re both good friends and this wouldn’t be the first time you’ve fallen asleep together. Simply, it is what it is and Wrecker’s okay with that.
It’s been a turbulent few weeks but Wrecker sees this as a break away, a mini vacation for just the two of you.
If you haven’t eaten yet, he’ll suggest you both go out to a local shop and buy as many snacks as you can. Wrecker is basically seeing this as a sleepover and what’s a sleepover without some midnight snacks?
The room is pretty basic so while there’s no way to watch any holomovies, Wrecker instead finds entertainment in your stories about life before the war. Any story you have, whether it be about your childhood or a night in 79’s, Wrecker wants to hear it.
The both of you spend most of the night sprawled across the bed, doing little competitions like who can throw a snack highest and catch it in their mouth.
When you’re both out of energy, there’s no actual discussion about sharing the bed. It just happens naturally, your head resting on Wrecker’s large arm as sleep takes over.
When you wake up the next morning, you’re on top of Wrecker, who’s snoring softly against you. His arms are thrown loosely around you as he holds you against his chest. Yeah you’re basically his replacement for Lula the Tooka doll.
It’s hard to get up, not because of Wrecker’s grip but because he’s so damn cosy. Closing your eyes, you decide another five minutes of bliss wouldn’t hurt.
ECHO
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He won’t admit it but when the door slid open to reveal only one bed, Echo got a twist of anxiety in his gut.
Suddenly he doesn’t feel tired (or at least that’s what he tells you). And besides, the bounty hunters could still be lurking around so it’s dangerous for you both to sleep. Before you can question it, Echo gives the order that you sleep and he’ll take watch.
Echo can be quite a stubborn guy when he wants to be, so no matter how many times you suggest he gets some rest or offer to take the first watch, Echo brushes it off and insists he stays up.
It doesn’t take much thought to figure out why Echo is so adamant about staying awake. Sleeping next to you would be a dream come true for him but what if his modifications hurt you while he’s asleep? 
One accidental move of his arm during the night and he could hit you over the head with his scomp link. The very thought of that frightens him so if it were to actually happen, Echo is sure he wouldn’t recover.
After much back and forth, you get him to take watch while sitting on the bed, his back against the headboard as you sleep next to him. That way, at least Echo has some comfort, you under the duvet beside him while he sits rather rigidly next to you.
You fall asleep pretty quickly but you move quite a bit. Tossing and turning in your sleep, your brain can’t seem to relax, too wound up with all that’s happened recently.
Eventually, you roll a little too close to Echo, your body bumping off of him as you throw your arm around his waist. He stills, unsure whether he should move or if doing so would wake you.
Within a few seconds, you curl your body against his, your head resting on his thigh as you hold onto him, finally seeming peaceful in your sleep.
Echo has to admit, it’s pretty cute to see you relax almost the second you cuddle him, a warm feeling igniting in his chest. Suddenly, his worries begin to melt away and he wants to curse himself for overthinking the situation and not grabbing on to this opportunity while he could.
Despite being somewhat annoyed at himself, Echo’s grateful you’re next to him, nuzzling into him as you sleep. Absent-mindedly trailing his hand up and down your back, Echo rests his head against the cushy headboard, letting sleep take over.
CROSSHAIR
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He rolls his eyes. That’s his first reaction. After all the shit he’s been through today and now this?! Crosshair isn’t happy.
You almost don’t catch what he says, his words coming out as a mutter as he tells you to take the bed and he’ll keep watch. Crosshair isn’t in the mood to debate this, so any suggestion you make of him also getting some rest is met with a sarcastic reply or a quip about how you’re wasting energy complaining when you should be sleeping.
While you get into the surprisingly soft bed, Crosshair sits at the bottom of the bed, sniper in hand as he cleans the weapon. It doesn't need to be cleaned but keeping himself busy helps fight off the urge to sleep.
Silence fills the room and you drift off to sleep, knowing you’ll be safe with Crosshair keeping watch.
But as soon as you fall asleep, that feeling of safety fades away and the nightmares begin. They don’t happen every night but when they do, the nightmares completely take over, causing you to mumble to yourself and flail in the bed.
When you leave out a particularly loud cry, Crosshair pauses, glancing behind his shoulder at you. He doesn't need an explanation of what this is, suffering from his own nightmares. 
Settling his sniper down on the wobbly coffee table, Crosshair moves closer to you, sitting beside your sleeping figure and watching as your face becomes clouded by dread. 
He’s not sure what to do, but hesitantly Crosshair places his hand on your shoulder, trying to still your erratic movements as he says “It’s alright, I’m here, you’re safe with me”.
His voice soothes you in ways you can’t even describe, his tone so calm yet confident. He’s shocked when the nightmares seem to subside, further encouraging him to continue his reassurances to you.
The more he reassures you, the more you seek out Crosshair’s warmth, your arms instinctively reaching out to him. As you try to cuddle him, Crosshair rolls his eyes before moving deeper into the bed, letting you cuddle into his side. This isn’t how he expected the night to go but now that you’re sleeping with your face in by his neck and leg on top of his, he assumes he’s stuck like this until you eventually wake up.
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starjedi86 · 2 months
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Taking care of you
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Summary: Hunter blames himself for not being able to protect you.
Pairing: Hunter x female reader
Warnings: None
Word Count: 965
Authors Note: In honor of season 3 airing today, here’s my first fic for the bad batch. I hope you enjoy it!
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The air in the small medical bay was heavy with tension as Hunter anxiously awaited news about you, his girlfriend and the mechanic of his squad. Each passing moment felt like an eternity, his mind consumed by guilt over the accident that had left you injured.
You and the rest of the members of Clone Force 99 were on a mission, as usual during the Clone Wars. However, this time, due to the lack of communication, the battle intensified, leading to your fall from a great height.
In the shock of the situation, you weren’t sure if your ankle was broken. During the rest of the battle, Hunter helped you and kept you safe. When it ended, you were in so much pain that Hunter thought it was best to return to Coruscant for a medical check with all the necessary equipment.
As the leader of his squad, he felt the weight of responsibility bearing down on him, blaming himself for not having protected you better.
He was lost in his thoughts when the medical staff informed him that you were awake and he could visit your room. Without hesitation he walked inside.
The door slid open, and there you were, lying in a bed with a reassuring smile. Despite the bandage wrapped around your ankle, your eyes sparkled with warmth as you met his gaze. “Hey,” you said softly, your voice carrying a hint of reassurance and warmth. You knew him so well that you already knew he was blaming himself, so you did your best to reassured him. “You don’t have to worry. I’ll be okay.”
Hunter’s shoulders dropped with relief at the sight of you, but the guilt still weighed on him. “I can’t help but feel responsible for this,” he confessed, his voice heavy with regret. “I should’ve been more careful, should have protected you better.”
But you shook your head, your expression softening with understanding. “Hey, accidents happen,” you reassured him, your tone gentle. “You can’t blame yourself for what happened. What matters is that we’re a team, and we look out for each other.“
Hunter’s heart swelled with gratitude at your words, he couldn’t help but love you even more. Despite the chaos of war, he knew that you were one of the few people who could comfort him and make him better. Stepping closer to your bed, he reached out to gently hold your hand and intertwine your fingers with his, his touch was gentle as if you were a delicate flower.
“Thank you, cyare,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “For everything.”
You smiled, squeezing his hand in return. “You don’t have to thank me love.“ you whispered back, your eyes filled with love towards him.
As you stayed there, Hunter couldn't resist any longer. He leaned in and pressed his lips against yours in a gentle kiss, pouring all of his love and affection into the gentle touch.
When you finally pulled away, your eyes met, filled with love for each other. "I won't let anything happen to you, cyare," Hunter promised, his voice filled with determination.
"I know," you replied, your voice filled with trust and love towards him.
You stayed there, chatting about various things as you waited to be discharged. When the doctors informed you that you were ready to leave, Hunter offered to take you to your apartment. The journey was quiet but relaxing after all the stress you both had.
Upon arriving at your apartment, Hunter gently guided you to your bed, propping your foot up on a pillow and ensuring your comfort before taking a seat beside you. You could see a mixture of concern and affection in his expression.
“Is there anything else you need? Pain medication, water, food, maybe a blanket?” he asked, his voice affectionate toward you.
You shook your head, managing a small smile on your lips. “I’m okay for now, love. I’m glad to be back home, at least for a couple of days.” you replied softly, grateful for his caring attitude.
Hunter nodded, but the worry still lingered in his eyes. “I’m just glad you’re safe, cyare” he admitted. “I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.”
Reaching out, you gentle grabbed his hand and caressed the back of it with your thumb. “I’m not going anywhere,” you reassured him, your touch offering a sense of calm. “We’ll get through this, honey, just like always.”
Hunter’s gaze softened at your words, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.
You returned his smile, grateful to have him by your side. “Always together, remember?”
Feeling a wave of gratitude, love and affection toward you, Hunter leaned in, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace, being careful with your injured ankle. You didn’t hesitate to lean your head into his chest, feeling the soft sound of his heartbeat.
Pulling back slightly, Hunter looked at you, a soft smile curving around his lips. Without hesitation, he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before pulling you closer, relieved to have you by his side.
As you cuddled together, you intertwined your fingers with his, feeling his soft and gentle touch over your palm. “I’m lucky to have you.” you whispered, your voice filled with admiration toward him.
Hunter’s eyes softened at your words, a grateful smile spreading across his face. “And I’m lucky to have you,” he replied sincerely, his voice filled with warmth.
As you looked at each other, lost in the quiet intimacy of the moment, Hunter gently placed his forehead against yours. You’ll definitely always be there for him and he for you.
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Omega: You and Hunter are having a baby.
Y/N: I'm sorry??
Omega, slamming adoption papers on the table: It's me, sign here.
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bountyhunter1409 · 2 months
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our little secret - Crosshair x fem!reader
summary; you're in a secret relationship with pre order 66 crosshair —sfw.
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You were caught between a rock and a hard place.
More accurately, you were caught in Crosshair's arms, and time was ticking. Although your heart was pumping anxiety throughout your bloodstream, it was no match for the feeling of Crosshair's chin resting on your shoulder.
Hands braced lightly on the forearms wrapped around your upper body, you leaned back on your heels, Crosshair's chest armor coming in contact with your back. Crosshair seized the opportunity and kissed your cheek, though it felt like a playful bite on the ramus of your jaw.
The moment was fleeting as it always was. You had no time to laugh, no time to squeeze the arms around you as a token of your own affection.
A cool breeze eventually replaced Crosshair's arms as you both were separated now, facing one another. A mutated clone and a jedi—an unrevealed secret, nothing more and nothing less.
"Are you ever going to be nice to them?"
He grunted. "When have you ever known me to be nice?"
He had a point. His default stoic and grumpy nature was what had intrigued you from the beginning. Combine that with his unparalleled accuracy for his targets and his unwavering skill of being able to pull the trigger without guilt. Sometimes you wondered if Crosshair would've been a better jedi than you.
"I'm just saying," you said with a shrug, arms folding across your chest. "Must you refer to them as "regs"?"
"Yes," he said, his hands falling at his sides as if it were obvious.
"You're unbelievable," you said, earning a light scoff from Crosshair.
It was playful banter such as this that had started your secret relationship in the first place.
"And you're too nice," he shot back, a smirk appearing on his lips.
"As if acting like a brute has gotten you anywhere."
Crosshair slumped against the wall and inconspicuously produced a toothpick from his pocket and placed it between his lips. Effortlessly the pick migrated to the corner of his mouth.
"It's gotten me with you, hasn't it?" He crossed his arms then, mimicking your stance with a playfully, quizzical brow.
Miffed, you pressed your lips together into a straight line. Mere seconds passed by, but your tongue couldn't conjure up a creative comeback—a plethora of words to seal his fate. Instead, Crosshair took it upon himself to call this conversation adjourned.
"Cheer up, y/n," he said, pushing off the wall. His thumb and forefinger nipped at your chin, unknowingly causing you to look up at his arrogant eyes. You pursed your lips, biting back a smile of your own. "I'll let you win next time."
With the battle of words over, Crosshair dropped his arm at his side, nodded once, before walking past you in victory.
Left to your own devices, you watched as he disappeared around the corner to find his brothers. You were left in the corridor by yourself, flustered and frustrated that the infamous Crosshair had left you speechless with the harsh truth.
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candyfloss5000 · 15 days
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That's it. Thats the post.
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karttaylir-darasuum · 2 months
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a resource page for all your clone related needs
some tips on how to unwhitewash the clones in your content: 1 2 3
a folder of literally, like, 100s of photos of tem for all your reference needs
avoid racist, ableist, & otherwise negative stereotypes when writing about wrecker: 1 2
types of clone troopers
trooper weapons
technical sw terms
every canon named clone up until 2020 (images and names only)
ever canon named clone up until 2021 (images, names, battalions, & jedi officers)
every canon named clone up until 2023 (names and battalions only, no images)
assorted clone lore: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
reader inclusivity (has fic resources + poc moodboard images)
some links + videos about māori culture you might find useful if it's relevant to your works: 1 2
disability inclusivity
māori, mando'a, and huttese dictionaries
star wars and clone specific fic dividers: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7
some things to keep in mind as we're celebrating characters played by and modeled after a māori man:
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you can find the full pdf these are sourced from + more information on the subject here
if you're like me and you want to see some māori films that have māori cast members from the star wars universe, here's a list with free watch links where available:
tem's māori-focused films: once were warriors, what becomes of the broken hearted?, river queen, rain of the children, mahana/the patriarch (i'm also fond of a tv show he did called adventurer)
whale rider (keisha castle-hughes, aka queen apailana & emerie karr)
hunt for the wilderpeople (julian dennison, aka clone cadets deke & stak in tbb s3)
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stellarbit · 15 days
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Shadows of the Order
the sad batch x reader
5.5k words themes hurt and comfort
You were separated from the Batch when Order 66 was executed on Kaller. Even as a Jedi dropout you weren't safe. Left behind, you have to recover and restart in the world after the Republic. You'd hoped to never run into Clone Force 99 again, but that hope ran out one day. featuring: a b1 battle droid
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You know who deserved better? The clones. You know who else? The B1 battle droids. So I stuck a clanker in here for funsies. Had a ton of fun writing this. Hope y'all enjoy a little anguish. I'll be doin a spicy one next.
You fought alongside Clone Force 99 for a long time before the Battle of Kaller. Before Order 66. After meeting the padawan, Caleb, at the rendezvous point, you’d split off from the group to assist a team of troopers on the mountain while the boys joined General Bilaba. 
The troopers you encountered recognized you from your days with the 501st. Despite your repeated efforts to clarify that you were no longer a Jedi, they seemed unconvinced. Fortunately, after dispatching a group of droids, the remaining Separatist forces were routed towards the main front, allowing your group to do the same.
As you neared the midway point down you noticed the troopers falling back. Sliding to a stop in the snow, you turned back. There were about 10 of them, all standing around one holding a holocomm of a hooded figure. Half of them looked at you in sync, fixing the grip on their guns, the rest followed a heartbeat later. 
The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. Somewhere far down the mountain you heard screaming and blaster fire at the same moment the troopers turned their guns on you. You took off away from the troopers before the first shot rang out. 
“Get the Jedi!” A lone trooper pierced through the chaos.
Quick thinking led you to drop a stun grenade, followed by another, as you sprinted onward. The explosions managed to incapacitate some of the troopers, but not enough. Switching your blaster to stun mode, you sought cover behind a nearby tree, emerging only to neutralize the nearest clones before a shot hit your right shoulder, propelling you into a desperate sprint away from them.
With escape and evasion as your only viable options, the Marauder seemed too distant to reach in time. Instead you aimed for a waterfall you spotted while landing. It was a slim chance, but your best hope for losing the troopers.
As you fled, you deliberately dug your fingers into the wound on your shoulder, leaving a trail of blood in your wake. It was a risky move, but if you had any hope of evading capture, they needed to track you. When you saw the water through the trees you wasted no time in ripping away your chest plate. As soon as you got to the crest of the waterfall you launched your chest plate over the edge.
With one glance over the cliff, you gritted your teeth, pressing into your injured shoulder, crouched, and lowered yourself over the ledge. You grabbed high over the ledge and drug your bloody hand back down over. One more look below to ensure a safe landing spot and let go. Relying on the Force to guide your descent into an alcove leading behind the cascading water. 
Once there, you swiftly shed the remaining pieces of armor, discarding them into the rushing stream as you shifted farther into the veil of the waterfall.
When you finally heard the troopers at the cliff edge, all you could do was listen, wait, and hope they fell for it.
“Looks like she tried to scale down,” one of them remarked, his voice carrying over the sound of rushing water.
“There! In the water, I see her armor!” Another trooper's voice rang out, sending a jolt of panic through you as you desperately sought cover. Their voices dropped too low to hear before you caught the tail end of the conversation.
“Confirmed, Commander Grey. The Jedi has been neutralized. Visual confirmation obtained,” a trooper reported, the cold finality of his words chilling you.
The clone trooper paused, most likely receiving transmission. “Yes sir. Alright boys, we are to rejoin Commander Grey and head out. His forces eliminated Bilaba and Clone Force 99 took care of the padawan. Gather the stunned troops and let’s move out.” That was the last thing you heard before the troopers left. 
Your heart stopped. The blood in your veins froze. You lurched for something - anything - to steady yourself on. One moment everything was normal and the next you were being gunned down by clones you risked everything for. Clone Force 99 took care of the padawan.
There wasn’t enough air in the tiny alcove to think, the waterfall was too loud, the water hitting your face too cold. Desperately, you gripped the slippery rocks as your legs gave out.
Nothing made sense. Questions raced through you, each more unsettling than the last. Had all of the clones turned on the Republic? Why were they targeting Jedi specifically? Clones that served with General Bilaba for years suddenly gunned her down. 
Nothing added up. If the orders affected all clones, there was a good possibility that the Bad Batch was also following them. Despite their independent streak, they were still clones, some orders had to be followed. It was a sobering realization - one that left you feeling vulnerable and nauseous. You weren’t going to be safe until they left. If they left.
The thought of aiming a weapon on the members of Clone Force 99 cracked something inside you. Besides, it was foolish to think you had a chance against all of them. With an entire army of reinforcements, attempting to take them on would be nothing short of suicidal.
Survival became your sole focus. There was no time to dwell on what went wrong or how to escape the planet's unforgiving terrain. For now, all you could do was stay hidden, biding your time until the coast was clear.
One by one, you discarded your armor and any identifiable markers into the water. It wasn’t about shedding your identity; it was a practical decision, one you could handle. Not long after, the sound of footsteps echoed from above. You pressed yourself against the rock again, your senses on high alert.
An eternity seemed to passed before the person moved. “The Jedi target was neutralized. If she’s not already dead, she’s as good as it.” It was Crosshair’s voice, cold and detached. 
There was another moment of silence before you heard Tech’s voice, “Affirmative. Blood stains indicate she attempted to scale down the cliff and subsequently fell.” His tone was as clinical as ever but you almost fooled yourself into thinking there was something else to it. “Pieces of her armor are wedged in the rocks below. Crosshair is correct, if she did not perish on impact the likelihood of her survival is negligible. We need to leave.”
They weren't out there to rescue you; they were there to confirm you were dead.
It was all too much to process. Every muscle, every bone, every nerve in your body seemed to fail, leaving you a trembling mess. When the two men finally left, you didn’t know.
“We don’t leave our own behind.” You heard Hunter’s voice and heard his lie.
They left you. You fought for them, yet they hunted you down and abandoned you.
Long after night had fallen, you mustered the strength to climb out of the alcove, your injured shoulder protesting every movement. Descending into the battlefield, you searched for a salvageable ship and supplies. Amidst the wreckage, you stumbled upon the one thing you weren’t looking for.
General Bilaba’s lightsaber. She must’ve lost it in the struggle. Such a valuable thing lost to the snow and wreckage, not even retrieved. Disposable. You held the cold metal in your hand before tucking it away.
You found one ship that might manage to get off the ground. Nearby, you spotted a partially disabled battle droid, still in remarkably good condition despite its current state. It appeared to have been incapacitated by a stun grenade. As you examined it, Tech's lessons on droid maintenance flooded your mind, particularly the techniques for reprogramming them for combat purposes.
Kneeling beside the droid you flipped it onto its back to access programming. You’d pulled it off before, reprogramming battle droids to counter attack. You just never thought you’d need the skills like this.
The process was far from seamless. You electrocuted yourself on the power supply, nearly damaged a circuit board while removing the restraining bolt, and the rewiring process dragged on longer than expected, especially under the cover of darkness.
Eventually, the battle droid sprung to life, clutching its head as it sat up. You lowered yourself onto one knee as the droid adjusted itself. "Where am I?" its questioning began, its metallic voice filled with confusion. "Is the battle over? Did we win?"
Hearing the droid address you instead of immediately engaging in combat felt oddly surreal, but given the day's events, it was perhaps the least strange thing. "What is your primary directive?" you asked, trying to gauge its functionality.
It clunked a hand against its head. "Huh, that's odd. I don't seem to have one."
That was a start. 
You rose to your feet and offered your hand. "In that case, how about we team up and find a way off this rock?"
Its head swiveled from side to side as it processed the proposal. "You mean, I get to choose?"
You let out a small scoff and maintained your outstretched hand. "Your options are coming with me or staying here to rust."
"Fair point," the droid responded, almost cheerfully, as it reached for your hand. "So, what's the plan for getting off this dump?"
You gestured toward the ship you hoped  to salvage. "Can you handle starship repairs?"
“Sure thing, boss. Want me to clean it up?”
You threw it a puzzled look, “Why would I-” You shook your head, “No, we need to repair it enough to get it off this planet.
“Well, that doesn’t make sense.” The B1 unit pointed at the ship. “That ship doesn’t need repairs, we just crashed it.”
Maybe picking a battle droid for an assistant wasn’t the best choice. “Was it your group that crashed it?”
“Yep!” It said too proudly. “Happens all the time. But I told you, this one doesn’t need repairs to fly.” The droid paused for a second, tapping a metal digit to the tip of its face, then added. “Yet.”
That didn’t bode well for survival. You waved for it to follow you, “Let’s see if you’re right.” Over your shoulder you asked. “What can I call you?”
“My identifier is OOM-672.”
Walking amongst dozens of disabled B1 units you mused, “Looks like you’re about to be one of the last OOM models in the galaxy. So why don’t we cut that down to O2?”
“Wow!” The way it vocalized almost added syllables to the word. “Yeah, O2 sounds much better! What do I call you? Master?”
You cringed at the sound of that. “I’m not your master, O2. We’re going to have to settle with being friends or buddies.”
“You got it, Buddy!”
Thankfully, O2 was right. The ship could fly and it had enough fuel to get you far from Kaller. Enough to get you all the way to the Outer Rim if you wanted. It was risky, but following the pattern of the day, it was your only chance at survival. You just didn’t let O2 pilot.
*
After the rise of the Galactic Empire, you and O2 settled on a planet in the Mid Rim. You scavenged and sold enough equipment from Kaller for a comfortable amount of credits to start off with. You pieced together a new identity, often concealing your face beneath a helmet and relying on a voice modulator. Being dead in the eyes of the Empire had its advantages.
The best way to stay hidden, you figured, was to stay in plain sight.
You wormed your way into ownership of a small inn. Although, your background as a Jedi and a soldier left you ill-prepared for running a business, and you struggled to turn a profit.
“O2!” You shouted from the lobby.
The battle droid sauntered in from the dining area. “Yes, Buddy?” The droid’s nickname for you always worked a smile out of you.
You tossed them a rusted-out metal part, which they scrambled to catch, their movements clumsy and uncoordinated. After a few failed attempts, they finally managed to grasp it securely. “The circulator for our boiler is busted. Can you head to the market and fetch a replacement? The parts dealer should have one available.”
“Roger, roger!” O2 chimed enthusiastically, ready to depart.
You yanked them by the shoulder. “O2,” You warned. “Do you remember how to pay?”
They rolled their head in an exaggerated display of weariness. “I know, I know - ‘charge it to the tab.’”
Raising an eyebrow, you waited for more. “And?”
O2 tapped a compartment on their chest, revealing a few credits inside. A result of some previous tinkering done by you. “And I have the extra credits.”
“And what’re they for?” You pressed.
“For ‘just in case.’” They replied
Stepping forward, you pushed the compartment closed. “In case of trouble, O2,” you reminded them firmly. Giving them a light knock with the back of your knuckles, you added, “Give me a call if you find yourself staring down the barrel of a blaster.”
As far as O2 was concerned, they had it easy. You rescued them from decommissioning and in return, all you asked for were simple tasks and the opportunity to tinker with their hardware. The tinkering, more often than not, turned out for the better - at least most of the time.
When you and O2 first arrived, the presence of a battle droid initially unnerved the townsfolk. However, they grew accustomed to O2's quirky demeanor. O2 was more goofy than intimidating almost by design. Plus, after a few instances of O2 causing trouble with the neighbors, they quickly learned to keep their hands off the droid. Often with a not so subtle reminder of a vibroblade at their throats.
O2 ambled through the town, exchanging waves with the occasional vendor. Stalls and shops lined the narrow, winding streets, colorful canopies providing shelter from the sun for the patrons below. Amidst the hustle and bustle, droids weaved through the crowds, delivering goods and providing services to customers. 
As O2 approached the parts dealer, raised voices caught their attention. Nearby, at a fruit stand, a vendor held a pear just out of reach of a young girl. "That's not fair!" the girl protested, reaching for the fruit. "I already paid you!"
Deviating from their path, O2 made their way toward the girl. She appeared to be a young human with light hair, a visitor to the town. 
"Hey, stop that!" O2 called out in their attempt at an authoritative tone. They reached the girl and bent slightly to address her. "Are you in trouble, young human?"
The girl turned to O2, visibly puzzled. After a moment of assessing the situation, she nodded slowly. "Uh, yeah," she replied, more confidently this time. "Yes. He's taking my money but insisting I still owe him more." She pointed a finger accusingly at the vendor.
O2 looked between the vendor and the little girl several times. When they finally grasped the situation, they exclaimed, “Ohh! You’re in trouble and need more credits. That’s perfect!” They poked open the compartment on their chest, revealing the credits.
The girl shook her head in disbelief. "N-no, I've already paid," she insisted, casting a disdainful glance at the vendor. "He's just trying to cheat me."
Raising a finger in a gesture of understanding, O2 interjected, "You're in trouble and these credits are for 'in case of trouble.'" They plucked out a few credits and pivoted at the hip to offer them to the vendor.
From behind the booth, the vendor's expression shifted to one of quiet annoyance, yet he begrudgingly began packing a bag with pears. "There's no trouble, O2," he retorted curtly, dropping the bag into the girl's arms. "Now, move along, kid."
The girl frowned at the man but did turn away. She looked up at O2 with a smile. “Thanks,” She pulled a curious face and stepped back from the droid for a better look. “You’re a B1 battle droid. What are you doing here?”
“I’m purchasing a new part.” O2 held up the broken circulator as proof.
She held back a smile. “No, no. I meant, weren’t all battle droids supposed to be decommissioned.” She gestured around her, “So what are you doing out here alone?”
O2 didn’t have time to respond when a man yelled, “Omega! Get away from that thing!” A male with a face tattoo shoved through the crowd and slammed the battle droid in the chest with the hilt of a blade. 
“Whoa!” O2 yelled, stumbling backward into the fruit stand.
The little girl squeezed between O2 and the man.  “Don’t hurt them, Hunter!” She threw her arms out to shield O2. “They were just helping !” Three other men arrived behind Hunter while O2 righted themself.
One of the men, with a socket for a hand, pushed to the front of the group and pointed his prosthetic at the droid. “Omega, you don’t know what that clanker is capable of.” 
“Hey!” O2 whined in protest and shook a fist at him. “You can’t call me that!”
“Says who?” Growled the largest man of the group.
“Says my buddy!” O2 started reaching for its head to send out a comm when the fruit vendor grabbed his hand.
“O2!” He laughed nervously and patted the droid harshly, “There’s no trouble.” The vendor pointed a finger at the men. “I’m not dealing with their friend today, so move out.”
“Friend?” The big guy repeated incredulously.
The cyborg hovered his hand over the blaster at his hip. “Where’s your master, droid?”
O2 thrusted their head in a sassy manner, “I don’t have a master.”
Hunter moved Omega to the side and put his knife just below O2’s head. “Why don’t you take us to this friend of yours?”
“That depends.” O2 said skeptically. “Are you looking for an inn?”
Hunter passed a look to the men behind him. “An inn?”
“Only customers can come to the inn. So - are you looking for an inn?”
Hunter lowered the knife and jerked his head to say ‘get going’, “Sure thing. Now, let’s go.”
“Roger, roger.” The droid said with a little salute and then tapped his fingers to the tip of his face. “Say, do I know you guys?
“Move it, clanker.” The cyborg ordered again.
Back at the inn, you waited in the lobby reading through bank statements. The front door was open to the street, allowing you to hear O2’s distinctive footsteps approaching. You pushed away from and around the desk to greet them. “That may have been your fastest run yet. How much - oh!” You stopped mid sentence when a young girl trailed in behind the droid. Behind your headgear you smiled, “Did you make a friend?”
The little blonde waved up at you, “Hello.”
A dent in O2’s chest plate caught your eye. You motioned for the droid. “O2, what did you do to your chest plate?” 
“Well, I didn’t do it.” The droid sassed, but moved forward and leaned down for you to inspect. You reached up, held their head, and moved it side to side for inspection. Other than the dent they were fine. You patted their face in relief when, from the corner of your eye four figures filed in.
You went stock-still at the sound of a familiar voice, Hunter’s voice. “You own this clanker?”
This was it. This was the day you died. 
Giving O2 one last pat, you turned to face the Bad Batch standing in your doorway, as formidable as ever. Hunter led the group, with Echo on his left, Tech on his right, and Wrecker flanking Echo. Crosshair was conspicuously absent. Their mismatched armor was newly painted in vibrant colors. 
Silently assessing them, you took a moment to compose yourself, shoving your fear and anger as deep as you could. Their demeanor said they didn't recognize you and you needed them gone before they did.
"Sure," you replied vaguely, your voice muffled by the voice modulator. Keeping your gaze fixed on the clones, you instructed O2, "O2, grab my satchels from the back." Without hesitation, the droid complied.
"What are you doing with a separatist battle droid?" Echo's voice bristled as he stepped forward. "Do you realize how dangerous that thing is?"
Images of Echo tending to your wounds flooded in, abruptly interrupted by the recollection of red blaster shots narrowly missing your head.
"OOM-672 has been reprogrammed," you replied, waving your hand dismissively. "They no longer pose a threat and wartime objectives have been nullified."
"Incorrect," Tech said as he tapped the side of his helmet to move his visor. "If the droid's reprogramming is faulty, it could revert to its original directives at any moment. Depending on the data stored in its memory, that could prove dangerous should it fall into the wrong hands." He advanced toward O2, pointing a finger. "Allow me to examine it—"
“Their programming is fine.” You instinctively took a step back, bumping into O2 with the bags you requested. One had spare credits for bribing them out of your parlor and, in case that didn’t work, the other contained a blaster and Bilaba’s lightsaber.
As you sorted through the first bag for credits, you spat, “No one lays a hand on the droid except me. Especially not a bunch of clones." With a flick of your wrist, you tossed a handful of credits at Hunter. "Now get out of my lobby.” You made the mistake of addressing them as clones and hoped the odd comment passed over them. They obviously didn’t look like other clones to the untrained eye.
"Oh!" O2's voice chimed in recognition, but you swiftly raised a hand to silence the droid.
“Do we look like we work for the Empire?” Wrecker asked, almost growled, with hands on Omega’s shoulders. 
Hunter glanced at the credits before tossing them back. “Just let us look at the droid,” he urged.
Without missing a beat you caught the credits, brandished the blaster, and aimed it at the leader. Immediately, the other brothers aimed their blasters at you. "Got a malfunction in those helmets?" You gestured toward the exit with your weapon. "I said leave. No stranger gets their hands on my droid."
“Strangers?” O2 stepped to your side and pointed at the group of clones. “They’re not strangers. We know them.”
Your blaster dipped for a moment, frustration nipping at you before you firmed up your grip. “O2, knowing someone for five minutes doesn’t mean you know them.”
“Just calm down.” Hunter said slowly.
“Five minutes?” The battle droid shook their head in confusion. “We go waaay back.” They hummed a thoughtful sound. “Although they did stun me on Kaller.” A chill gripped your spine at the mention of Kaller.
"Kaller?" Omega's gaze flitted between the men around her. "Where's that?" The rustle of shifting armor filled the lobby as the four men exchanged glances, their blasters trained still on you.
“Who are you and how did you get that droid?” Echo's voice carried a forceful edge as he pushed you.
“Get out.” You repeated with more venom. “Clones follow orders. That’s an order.”
Hunter slowly raised his hands, removing his helmet and revealing his tattooed face. The sight of him made it hard to breathe through.
"We're not with the Empire," Hunter declared. "And we're not big on following orders, either."
"Liar!" Your scream reverberated through the room, the voice modulator straining against your volume. Something flickered in Hunter's expression.
For someone with no skin in the war, you were proving to be  awfully reactive.
"Hunter," Tech intervened firmly, prompting you to swing your blaster in his direction. "Look at that blaster." You glanced down at your weapon, seeing nothing out of the ordinary.
“What about it, Tech?” Hunter asked.
“That blaster has nonstandard modifications. Only five like it exist.” Tech explained, his tone serious.
“Not the time to be admiring blasters.” Echo snapped.
“The issue is,” Tech shot an annoyed look at his brother. “They are my modifications.” His grip relaxed slightly. “We have four of them and the other was - ”
You fired a shot at Tech before he could finish and attempted to fire another when Hunter lunged at you. He knocked the blaster from your hand and swung for your head. Wrecker shoved the kid behind him while you and Hunter exchanged blows, his hitting much harder than you remembered. 
You saw Tech activating a stun grenade as O2 reached for your blaster. Yanking a vibroblade from your hip, you rammed the hilt of it into the side of Hunter’s head, causing him to stumble back. Swiftly, you lurched in the way of the stun grenade, intercepted it, and threw as far as you could behind you.
Echo took no time in disarming and disabling O2 while Hunter regained his senses and grabbed for you. His touch was a breath away when you thrust out your hands and blew him back with the Force. Before Hunter could register what happened, Wrecker grabbed you by the neck, and yanked you from the ground.
You clawed at his hand but couldn’t stop the giant crushing your windpipe and ripping off your headgear. 
Seeing your bare face, livid and unable to breathe, shook Wrecker and gave you the chance to slam your feet into his stomach. He dropped you to the ground where you writhed and gasped for air. Your dropped blaster was nowhere in sight, but the other satchel was.
Still retching for air, you threw a hand out and the lightsaber flew to you. Green light blasted out of the hilt, parallel to the ground and putting a thrumming barrier between you and the clones.
“A Jedi?” Omega said in wonder, poking her head around Wrecker. Wrecker, notably, didn’t push her back behind him.
They all lowered their weapons and Tech, Echo, and Wrecker removed their helmets. Different shades of shock on all of them. “Sarad?” Tech spoke softly.
“Stay away from me.” You growled from the ground. Slowly, you repositioned yourself, strengthening your stance to pounce or run.
“We thought you were-”
“Dead?” You cut Wrecker off and cut a look at Tech. “Guess you aren’t as thorough as you think.” At that, Tech’s eyebrows hit his hairline.
“We didn’t follow that order.” Hunter interjected.
“Liar!” You lashed out. “I heard the troopers. ‘Clone Force 99 took care of the padawan.’”
Hunter started lowering himself to your eye level. “We let him escape.”
Echo stepped forward, his eyes avoiding yours. “We thought you were dead,” he admitted. He closed his eyes for a moment before finally meeting your gaze. “We thought the other troopers got to you, but we came looking for you as soon as we could.”
You didn’t dignify him with a response, in your eyes the only thing they deserved were holes through their chests.
Out of all of them, Tech stood the straightest, his demeanor showing no sign of shame in their handling of the situation. Still, he thought carefully on how to say what he needed, his hands clenching and unclenching as he processed it.
When he locked eyes with you, it was clear he’d considered his words meticulously, repeating the process in his mind multiple times before coming to the same conclusion
“With your blood and broken armor, there were two plausible outcomes,” he began, counting them out with his fingers. “First, that you perished either by the troopers or the falls. The second, that you…” His gaze momentarily shifted away, seeing your armor in the rocks. “... that you escaped.” Returning his gaze to yours, he continued, “In both scenarios, our intervention would have only made things worse. And Crosshair-”
You jumped to your feet in a challenge, Hunter quickly positioning himself between you and the others. “I don’t believe you,” you hissed, swinging the saber to the side before snapping it back in front of you. “So finish what you started.”
Hunter maintained his steady gaze as his brothers holstered their blasters. “We won’t fight you,” he assured, his tone resolute. Your eyes darted between them, searching for any sign of aggression. Seconds stretched on but the men held their ground.
“He’s telling the truth,” Omega whispered, joining Hunter at his side. "All clones were programmed to follow that order." She cast a meaningful glance at the men surrounding her. "But their altered states made them immune to the order."
For months, anger had been your constant companion, fueling you through each passing rotation. Anger at the Jedi Purge, at the failures of the Republic, and most of all, the seething rage at the Bad Batch for leaving you behind to bear the weight of it all alone. Months of grief and pain don’t just disappear.
The room seemed to warp and blur around you, your grip on the saber beginning to falter. Clinging to it tightly, you gritted your teeth, fighting to maintain your composure. The world snapped back into focus when tears finally breached your resolve, slipping down your cheeks unchecked.
“Then….” your arm dipped before falling limply at your side. “You left me for dead.” Your voice cracked and the words came out in a sob. “You left me behind.”
You thought the pain of them hunting you was the worst thing you could experience. The realization of abandonment was worse. A tight knot formed in your stomach, threatening to make you sick.
Driven by months of simmering anger, you shook your head through your tears. , “I survived without you, and I’ll keep surviving without you.” You let the green light of the saber fade. “So just leave.” The last words came out less like the command you wanted it to be and more like plea.
Wrecker ‘s eyes went wide, “You think after all this time,” he gestured toward you, “when we just got you back, we’d just leave?” A defiant look passed over him. “Sorry, not happening.”
“Sarad,” Tech spoke like it was just the two of you. YoYou closed your eyes briefly, savoring the familiarity of his tone. For a moment, you thought they might all disappear, as if they were never there. “Leaving you was a choice we never wanted to make. But it was the choice that led us here and ensured your survival. Keeping you alive was more important than keeping you by our sides.” He nodded, standing firm in his choices. “Your survival was the only acceptable outcome.”
The lightsaber grew heavy in your hand.
Wrecker reached out with a pleading gesture. "The regs would've— we couldn't..." He faltered, searching for the right words, but Omega touched his forearm and urged him forward.
Wrecker stepped through his brothers and although you flinched like you might run he reached out and touched your face. First with one hand and then a second when you tried to turn away. Holding you like that, seeing you safe in his hands, made it hard for Wrecker to ever imagine letting go.
Tears continued to flow down your cheeks, falling over his hands. Wrecker swept them away with his thumbs before pulling you into his arms. "Sorry, Sarad. We're sorry."
Your hands hovered on either side of you, it was the first time you’d truly touched another organic lifeform since Kaller. The lightsaber hit the ground and you fell into Wrecker.
You’d let yourself feel angry at them all those months alone, but, in an instant, it was overshadowed by the grief of having been without them. 
Pulling just out of Wrecker’s embrace you rubbed away the remaining tears. “I’ve missed you.”
“We missed you too.” Echo answered for the group.
Looking between them all, you felt like the world was a little safer. There were a few things standing out to you though. First being the little girl with them and Crosshair’s absence.
Immediately reading you, Hunter touched Omega’s shoulder. “A lot has changed.”
"I can see that," the girl smiled warmly at you, her expression oddly familiar despite never having met before.
Tech breezed past you, heading straight for O2. He knelt beside the droid, adjusting his goggles before turning to you. "So, you really salvaged this droid from Kaller?" You affirmed with a nod, prompting a look of mild disturbance from Tech. "And it's proven to be useful?" Another nod from you. "Well, that's just as surprising as your survival," he remarked, his tone tinged with genuine curiosity.
"Be kind to O2," you interjected, joining Tech by O2's side to rouse the droid. "They're my friend."
Echo scratched the back of his head, a sheepish expression crossing his features. "That's... going to take some getting used to."
Omega joined you and Tech, her eyes wide with fascination as Tech began to point out various features of the battle droid. A smile tugged at your lips as you watched the interaction unfold. The inn you had purchased never truly felt like home, much like Coruscant and the Jedi Order before it.
But here, amidst the Bad Batch, you finally felt a sense of belonging. You were home.
286 notes · View notes
sinfulsalutations · 10 months
Note
Quote the clones/tbb characters getting caught staring at reader: "if undressing me with your eyes isn't working I can do it for you?"
the reader is obviously joking.. or are they? You can do whatever you want but I would like tech and Fives reaction? NSFW or sfw it's up to you!
𝕔𝕝𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕓𝕒𝕔𝕜 ⋆*・゚ 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕓𝕒𝕕 𝕓𝕒𝕥𝕔𝕙 + 𝕔𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕣𝕖𝕩 + 𝕒𝕣𝕔 𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕠𝕡𝕖𝕣 𝕗𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕤 + 𝕝𝕚𝕖𝕦𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕛𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕖
➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛʟʏ ꜱᴜɢɢᴇꜱᴛɪᴠᴇ ɪɴ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴛꜱ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴋɴɪᴠᴇꜱ (ɴᴏ ᴜꜱᴀɢᴇ ᴏʀ ᴅᴀᴍᴀɢᴇ ɪɴꜰʟɪᴄᴛᴇᴅ)
⋆ ★ ᴏʜ ᴍʏ ɢᴏꜱʜ ɪ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴍʏꜱᴇʟꜰ ᴀɴᴏɴ ᴜʀ ꜱᴏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ, ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴇᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘʀᴇᴍɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ! ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴀʏ, ɪ ꜰɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ɢᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ꜰɪᴠᴇꜱ! ʜᴇ'ꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀᴇᴠᴇʀ ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ɢᴏᴛ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ɪᴛ.
➼ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ
⋆ ★ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3 ⋆*・゚ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀᴍ
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You see how he catches glimpses at you. Always carefully and politely, afraid to be caught or overstep. Not that you’d mind if he did, in reality; you’re just as interested in him as he is in you.
But one day, he slips up; his eyes rake over yours almost hungrily just a few feet away, unable to satiate how he’d want to ravish you if he had your permission. Suddenly, you can’t stop yourself before you’re saying:
“If undressing me with your eyes isn’t working, maybe I can do it for you, huh?”
Your tone is (mostly) joking, of course. But hopefully, if you cross your fingers, he'll pick up on the suggestiveness laced in oh-so discreetly…
Hunter
Before he's fully able to process what you just said, he begins to stammer.
Kriff, he even drops his vibroblade straight onto the ground;
that never happens.
For just long enough for you to bask in it, Hunter looks at you dumbfounded.
Any casualness or relaxation he exuded is gone now.
You can't help but feel a little prideful and laugh; it's not often you get to see this absolute bastard (affectionate) not in total control of himself.
He scoffs at how you laugh at him, and he quickly gains his composure again to your dismay.
He signs and leans in onto his knees with his elbows, eyes lingering on yours as he leans into your ear and murmurs,
"Don't tempt me."
Tech
"Puh-pardon?" Is the first thing that comes out of his mouth.
Your eyes snap up to him, worried that you'll begin to regret your decision, but as you look at his furrowed expression, you realize he's just confused.
"What is... 'undressing someone with your eyes' mean to you?" He repeats your words like something new, yet fascinating, a tone you do not expect.
He talks it out.
"Perhaps it has suggestive connotations, that would make the most sense, and you accused me of doing such a thing while I was-" He pauses for a moment, eyes flicking to you and to the ground. "And offered to-" He stops completely.
"Oh."
Before your stupid open-mouthed ass can do anything, he's already turning to hide his face, a coat of red flushing behind his hands.
A breathy, disbelieved chuckle escapes you unintentionally. You don't mean to be mean or teasing though. Honestly, you just think it's really cute.
Both of you just nod it off after that.
Little to your knowledge he tosses and turns in bed all night, cussing himself out for not just taking the damn opportunity right in front of him! You buffoon!
Wrecker
This poor boy gets so nervous.
He'll immediately want to deny:
"My eyes weren't doing that- they'd never do that. I mean, I wasn't even really looking at you, so, er-"
Don't blame him for that though; half of it is instinct, and the other half is that he's so scared of frightening you off. Both with his subtle (charming) perviness and his overall stature.
A small bead of sweat forms on his neck the longer he talks, eyes flitting up to you then back to the floor, pushing himself into a corner.
"It really wouldn't be appropriate for me to think of you like' that. In that way. I don't wanna ever step past your boundaries- your privacy, yeah? And I'm really sorry that you thought I-"
Quickly, you lean in and cup his cheek softly, softly handling him to look back at you.
"Hey," You say it in a way that feels as though a secret between the two of you that never dare be shared. "It's okay. I was joking."
You can feel the tightness in his chest ease, though he still has that worried expression on his face.
"Oh. Well, I mean I kinda knew that from your voice, but I still don't want you to get the wrong idea... Kriff, I'm such a karkin'"
Only a sickly smitten giggle comes out of you, interrupting him, and without any hesitation, you lean in and place a chaste peck on the tip of his nose.
You've never seen Wrecker's face this red in your life.
Crosshair
Eats it up.
Crosshair, the snarky little shit he is, adores when you indulge him like this. Endless teasing that could come off as jokes, but beneath the surface, you both know what is at play here.
He's loving that you're initiating this.
Doesn't even think that you might've just been joking before he's got a stupid smirk plastered over his face, chuckling softly as he leans in close.
"Well isn't that a delectable offer."
His serpentine voice so close to your ear sends a delightful shiver down your spine. You don't back down, because, well, deep down this is what you hoped would come out of this; it's just surprising it's actually happening, is all.
Before you know it, he's tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and looking at you like a delicious meal.
"How pretty, even with all that fabric. And you still want me to see all of you?"
You fold.
Like, immediately.
But, *cough cough*, worth it ;)
Echo
By instinct, his signature surprised/confused face appears; he doesn’t even initially process it how he usually processes the words you say.
“Why are you-wait…”
His mouth opens slightly. You can’t help but giggle. His cheeks dust the fairest tint of pink.
He then washes (most of) it away, and looks at you incredulously, unsure of what to say.
Was that… flirting? His skills and knowledge about this stuff can’t be that rusty. It most certainly had to be some form of it.
But then again, a strong part of him doesn’t want to believe that it is.
So, like most interactions with you, he laughs lightly through the back of his throat, rubbing his neck to ease the buildup of tension there and (failing miserably to) forget about it.
Why am I like this… he dares to think.
Rex
He processes what you say quite quickly, and just reverts back to his basic way of reacting to things: nodding with a small smirk. But his eyes give away his unease and uncertainty.
This man has got negative rizz. Doesn’t know at all how to respond to a flirtatious comment or even initiate one himself.
So this is a straight up curveball.
“Heh… if you say so, nehutyc’ika.”
JANGO ABOVE WHAT ARE YOU SAYING-?
You see his nervousness (not surprising, of course, you know Rex well enough, so you decide to deter the conversation from there.
That manages to ease him up, but his mind is still on the comment you made;
it makes him realize that, kriff, he’s really got to make a move…
note: nehutyc’ika means feisty one in mando’a!
Fives
The first reaction that’s elicited out of him is a brief raise of his eyebrows; the only hint that he might’ve been surprised.
He then leans in and smirks, muttering “Oh?”
Suddenly, you get a little nervous under his stare; just like every time he’s been suggestive with you.
You stammer for a moment, careening away and throwing a hand in the air.
“N-nothing,” You tell him.
He groans, shaking his head, but his blinding smile doesn’t dissipate.
“Oh, come on,” He says. “Don’t do that now.”
Your eyebrows knit.
“Do what?” There’s a very small grin on your lips that you dare not to let spread, lest you wanted him to annoy tease you the entire night.
“Pretend you didn’t just say what I know you said,” He shakes his head, leaning in closer to you. The voice that comes out of him is hushed, not necessarily close to your ear but close enough it sends a thrill through you. “Don’t be a minx.”
Without a moment wasted, he leans in further. You have to push against his chest to get him out of your personal space.
“Fives!” You squeal. “Just forget it!”
He looks into your eyes, then down to your lips, so close to kiss, but he only gives you the faintest of winks and pulls away.
“Hm. Kind of hard to.”
You just roll your eyes and allow the two of you to fall into blissful silence.
When he finally has to get up and leave you, he tells you discreetly with a laugh.
“Sorry, cyare, don’t think I’m gonna forget. Gonna wait to see if the offer was serious or not. Gotta be worth it... don’t you think?”
You’re left totally dumbfounded and tugging at your sleeves.
Jesse
This sly guy retorts easily. With a striking smile, he gets comfortable beside you.
"My eyesight's doing me wonders, babe."
You laugh softly, leaning the side of your head on your arm and waiting for him to continue. He does so gladly.
"But the real thing must be stunning, eh?"
It's unintentional how your breath hitches.
The nature of your relationship has always been playfully flirting and teasing, sweet encouraging words to each other that, hopefully, one day, will escalate into something more.
Maybe this is the day?
"Worthy of worship," You praise yourself with a glint in your eye, even purposefully pursing your lips to emphasize it.
He eats up your praise, agreeing wholeheartedly and leaning in.
"I'd love to, if you'd let me," He says.
"Your barracks or mine?"
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tags: @starstofillmydream @pb-jellybeans @corrieguards @badbatchbabe @ladytano420 @jediknightjana @sleepycreativewriter @shinyshayminflower @heidi-lc28 @thebahdbitch
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