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jordosprout · 8 months ago

Text

Tumbling Walls

Tech X GN!Reader

Word Count: 3,964

Warnings: Nightmares, Trauma comfort, Anxiety attack, Mentions of childhood SA, Accidental SH, Tech and Reader are awkward, No established relationship, Barely any actual romance (tell me if there is anything I missed! I am very new to Tumblr :,) this is a pretty self-indulgent fic as I looked for one similar but couldn't find anything. I might make a follow up for it later on. I am open to taking writing prompts for the Bad Batch!!

Let's begin, shall we?

It felt like you couldn’t have woken up any faster, sitting up as soon as you did. Your forehead was covered in cold sweat. Your heavy breaths echoed throughout the bunks as your eyes darted around the quiet bunks, finally remembering where you were. A shaky exhale came from your lips as you crashed back into your pillow. You might as well not have slept at all you were so tired.

Your alarm comedically went off a minute later. You laughed annoyedly to yourself with your forearm over your eyes. The rest of the batch was (thankfully) probably already awake. That was typically the case. They all knew of your usual late nights and knew not to wake you unless there was an emergency, Wrecker being the one to find out the hard way.

You mentally prepared yourself for your day as you sat at the edge of your bunk, before begrudgingly jumping down. You were dressed minutes later before you went to the door to the barracks, swooshing it open; Crosshair was the first to greet you.

“You look like shit.”

You rubbed one of your eyes, even though you knew it would just make the bags underneath them worse. Crosshair’s remarks were the last thing you wanted to hear right now. You could only bring yourself to flip him off as you poured yourself a cup of now cold caff.

—

You couldn’t seem to catch a break at all today. Every little thing felt like weights being added to your shoulders. Crosshair’s comments were hitting closer to home and you weren’t able to respond with your usual bite. Wrecker’s booming voice felt like it raddled your skull more than usual. His energetic and rough nature along with that did not pair well with your high-strung mood. Omega’s questions were getting to be headache-inducing, and while usually you would answer every single one without hesitation you found yourself getting frustrated. You hate getting annoyed with her. She has every reason to have the questions she does about the universe. But today you wish she would just ask Tech instead.

You fidgeted in your seat with anything you could find. First, it was picking and scratching at your hands, then biting your nails, your body acted on its own as you found yourself lost in your thoughts.

You were pushed out of your spacey state when an excited Omega jumped on the back of the co-pilot seat, almost knocking you off. Shaking you up as a result.

“KRIFF- Omega can you not do that? You scared me.” you rubbed one of your eyes with your palm before turning to her. She was a bit taken aback, not used to you being snippy. But she didn’t let your roughness get to her like hers did to you.

“Oh- sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you! I just wanted to let you know that Wrecker, Crosshair, Hunter, and I were about to head off.”

You cocked your head at this. You weren’t aware of any missions for today and Hunter usually briefed the Batch on all of the day's plans.

“What do you mean by head off? Do you lot even know where you’re going? We haven’t exactly been on this planet before.”

She smiled excitedly at that, the idea of exploring making her almost bounce off the walls.

“We’re just running low on supplies. Hunter says there should be a town where we can restock but we probably won’t be back tonight.”

You simply nodded in response. Your throat felt too tight to talk today. Not a rare occurrence for you, there have been times when you wouldn’t say a word for hours. And that’s exactly what it was like today, the only difference being that it wasn’t clear to everyone else as to why like it usually was.

It’s not that you were always quiet; sometimes words just didn’t seem to be able to form themselves. Or that they were stuck in a lump deep inside your throat. But when your stress levels were low you always spoke what was on your mind.

Once Omega figured you had nothing to add she bounced off the ship to the others. You saw Hunter look up to you before saying something to Tech. He probably noticed your off-attitude, especially since you're rarely tense to this extent, seemingly for no reason. All you caught before they left was a responsive nod from Tech and a wave from Wrecker, who had a giddy Omega on his shoulders.

“Tech, keep a close eye on em’ yeah? They seem off today.”

Tech hummed at his brother, adjusting his goggles slightly before nodding and offering a response,

“I have noticed. I have it covered here.”

“Alright, good luck. We won't be back until sundown tomorrow,” Hunter told Tech with a sigh dreading the long trip.

Wrecker and Omega gave you a wave from outside before they all left, leaving Tech and you behind.

Since you joined the batch, Tech and you would usually stay at the ship. That way he’d have backup if needed. Even if all that meant was listening to all the facts he had accumulated.

Once everyone left Tech turned around and motioned for you to come over. Groaning as you stood up from your spot. But, obliging nonetheless. You leaned on the entryway of the Marauder before questioning his request, “Ya need somethin’ Tech?”

He nodded, goggles catching the reflection of the sun “Actually, I was thinking about your request from a few rotations ago. About teaching you basic ship repairs. It looks like it could use some work. And it would be best to teach you now, seeing as there will be no distractions,” he told you matter-of-factly. It was honestly quite surprising he took you up on your request seeing how protective he was of ‘his ship’. “And you’ve been inside all day now. That will not do your current mental state any good.”

“What are you talking about? I’m fine, Tech.”

He simply hummed at you, ignoring your obvious lie of a response for the most part. “The exterior hull took some damage from our last mission, and the hyperdrive motivator is not in the best shape either. It will not be too difficult of a repair, though it is an important one for you to learn.”

You gave him a quick alright and walked over to him, taking your place on his left.

You whined in frustration and threw your tool to the ground. You couldn’t seem to get the hang of it and it was maddening. You sat before easing yourself into laying down with your arms crossed; a curious Tech granting you shade as he stood above you.

“You are… quite reactive today,” he told you, stating the obvious like always.

You rolled your eyes at him, “I don’t know what you're talking about Tech. Perhaps you don’t either.” Just because it was obvious did not mean it needed to be discussed. Hopefully, you made that clear.

“I always know what I am talking about.”

Or perhaps not.

“Uh-huh.”

His armor shuffled as he sat next to you.

“It is clear that there is something on your mind. You are not one to be quick to anger.”

Turning your head to face him, he was clearly in thought himself as he looked out towards the body of water in front of you. You sighed before grumbling, “You’re right. sorry.”

He shook his head, “While it is not good to keep emotions bottled up, it is a common response. Do not apologize.” He flicked his eyes towards you momentarily, “...Though, if you are willing, I do not mind lending an ear.”

You have had many conversations with Tech during your time with the Batch, but none this personal. Typically it was just you asking him different questions about how things worked or him telling you without your prior inquiry. You weren’t too keen on the idea of it, you trusted Tech, of course you did. You trusted all of them. But you… held yourself to a high standard. Especially when it came to the clone next to you.

“It will not change how I view you.” He assured, basically reading your mind.

You turned your head away from him before starting, “It’s silly Tech, I’m just in my head today. A dream I had brought up… unpleasant memories. And it’s all I can bring myself to think about,” his eyes felt like they were burning holes in the back of your head as you spoke, “But I am not going to rant your ear off about it. You’re not my therapist.”

“As far as I am aware, no one is your therapist. However, that is not what I am trying to be. I am simply concerned for your well-being.”

“You have no reason to be concerned,” you told him bluntly. You did not like the idea of taking up someone's time with your feelings. Especially when it came to things you feel you should have moved on from.

“Oh, but I certainly do. To start, I'm certain you've not eaten your rations today. In addition to that, you have remained isolated from 1000 to 1400. And that isolation only stopped when I asked for your time. You have been tense and highly reactive all day. Whatever it is that is on your mind, it is making you anxious. Your lack of focus on any tasks given proves that your thoughts are preoccupied. Stop downplaying your current state and talk to me,” Tech almost sounded like he was begging you, a rare tone to come from him.

You sat up at that and looked at him for a moment, pulling your knees towards you and holding onto them; playing with your hands.

“It’s kind of heavy stuff Tech, are you sure?” he silently nodded, all of his attention on you. You took a deep breath through your nose before you spoke, “Okay… I’ll be blunt then. I was sexually abused, frequently when I was young. It went on for a long time. And whenever I felt safe somewhere new I would be quickly shown that I was not. There were occasions when it was more violent. And I have had vivid nightmares of it in the past. But they haven’t popped up since… maybe a month before I met you guys. But whenever they did they were all I could think about.”

“And that is what’s going on today I assume?”

“Yeah… pretty much.”

You could only bring yourself to focus on the ground, the idea of even looking at Tech right now was daunting. Eye contact was never your strong suit, but definitely not now.

“Do you feel safe?” he inquired bluntly, never being one to beat around the bush.

“Yes? No? I don’t know, it’s not easy to put into words. It’s like… realistically I know I am. But I can’t stop feeling like there is a possibility that I’m not.”

He shifted slightly, one knee up as he put all his weight on the thigh and hand closest to you.

“While I am not sure if it helps, I can assure you that you are. At least in that case. Obviously, there are dangers when it comes to our current line of work and we will always do our best to prevent harm, but please know that none of us would let something of that nature happen to you. You are safe here.”

You broke down at that. You weren’t used to your anxieties being comforted in this way. They were usually dealt with in your own time. Tears began to roll down your cheeks as your body shook. Every little thing that you had piled onto your shoulders began crumbling down.

Tech quietly spoke to you holding his hands up slightly trying to show he wasn’t a threat, facing you as he sat on his knees, “I apologize I did not mean to make you feel worse I-”

“No no don’t say sorry it’s not you just- I haven’t felt safe in a long time and you saying that caught me off guard. It’s hard to hear in a way. It’s frustrating that you even had to say that. Everything about today felt so hard but I know it shouldn’t have felt that way. I’m just so- so upset with myself you know? I feel so- broken. I hate feeling this way. I hate not being okay by now. I- I should be okay by now…” you vigorously wiped your eyes with your palms, sobs falling out of you. You could feel your walls falling and it terrified you. You shook harder as your anxiety bubbled up, all of your thoughts taking over. Tech was silent, you could almost feel him calculating what to do next.

Timid warm arms found themselves around you, slowly pulling you into Tech's chest. You flinched slightly at the sudden gesture before melting into him. His armor was cooler than you expected, but you welcomed it onto your warm face. Tech was stiff. Emotional comfort was not his specialty, but he couldn't bring himself to just sit there.

“I will never let anything happen to you. Do you understand?” He said to you quietly, only receiving a nod from you in return. “And while I do not have much expertise in situations like yours, I promise you do not have to deal with this on your own. You are… quite important to me.”

You didn’t respond, and he didn’t expect you to. You could feel your heartbeat pounding against your skull as you held onto his arms. He tightened his hold around you, securing you to him.

Exhaustion flooded over you when your anxiety attack finally stopped. You could barely bring yourself to move. Once Tech figured you got what you needed out of your system he finally spoke,

“Are you tired? I hope you know I don't expect you to complete your lesson. It can wait.”

You laughed slightly at him stating what you thought was obvious, “Yeah a little. But… I'll be fine. Thank you for uhm- staying with me through that.” You rubbed your eyes, crusty from your salty tears hardening on your lashes.

He stood up, making sure to not jostle you in doing so before offering you his hand to help you up. You finally looked up at him after everything. His brown eyes glistened softly under his goggles. They were warm, but the sad gleam they held was noticeable.

You took his hand so he could hoist you up. Your legs shook like twigs in the wind as you got back onto your feet.

“I really think you should rest. Anxiety attacks are quite draining. It will only do you good.”

He walked behind you as he pushed you up the ramp to the Marauder, not taking no for an answer. He even waited near the door to the bunks to make sure you made it up to your designated sleeping spot

“I will leave you to it.”

Tech sat in the pilot seat on his datapad for nearly two standard hours as you slept. He was looking into different coping mechanisms he could provide you. Or at least so he was better at calming you down. Not knowing what to do in any situation frustrated him. But he wasn't sure if it was because of his ego, or if it was because it had to do with you.

His brows furrowed when he remembered how you shook like a leaf in his arms. He's never seen you cry, let alone like that.

Tech sighed and set his device on his lap, resting his head in his hand as he thought about today. He couldn't help that he was still worrying about you. The thought of the things you told him whirred in his mind and he felt his hands clench slightly. He couldn't bring himself to even begin to imagine your experiences. And he knew if he saw those guilty of inflicting so much harm to you he'd see red.

All he knew was that he had to protect you. He knew that he would by any means necessary. And if that meant merely holding you while you cried then that is what he'd do. Any time you needed him he'd make sure to be there. You were… special to Tech. He wasn't exactly sure why. Or what the exact feeling was. All he knew was that he stole glances at you whenever you weren't looking. He wanted to know every thought that ever entered your mind. And that your laugh was one of his favorite sounds.

He has wondered before if it was perhaps love he felt for you, but he had no real way to be sure. He's never had a crush before so he wouldn't know exactly how that would feel. But it was the only idea that really made sense to him.

He wondered if you felt that way about him. Or if it was even possible that you could. Tech shook his head at the thought. Now was not the time.

He jolted when he felt you tap his shoulder.

“Hey, sorry I was out for so long. I brought you some caff,” you handed him a cup with an awkward smile, looking to the side instead of making eye contact.

“Ah… thank you.”

The seat beside him creaked as you sat down and he couldn't help but look at you. Your bedhead wasn't drastic but it was there. You somehow still looked tired despite sleeping for so long. That was probably why you had your own cup.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better”

Tech hummed in response as he sipped his drink. It was relieving to hear you say that and it finally felt true, unlike your earlier statements.

A comfortable silence was between you as you both looked out the Marauder’s glass pane.

“Tech?”

“Yes?”

“Can you uhm…tell me about something? Anything works. I kinda just wanna hear you talk.”

Tech was used to you catching him by surprise. You always managed to. But you outright saying you just wanted him to talk for the mere sake of talking wasn't something he'd ever expect from anyone. Though he figured it was just to keep your mind occupied. He thought for a moment before picking a topic.

“I don't believe I have told you how hyperdrives work and it's quite a fascinating topic really. The way they manage to preserve a vessel’s mass is quite spectacular, you'll love this-”

You loved hearing Tech talk, it was a great pass time and in your current moment a great distraction. Though you're embarrassed now with how straightforward you were with it. You took long sips of your caf, eyes focused on the dark sky and his voice. He began to ramble a bit about ionization, somewhat forgetting the original topic; but it was obvious that you didn't mind. You just appreciated how willingly he took your request.

A content hum came from you before Tech cleared his throat causing you to face him.

“Have you managed to eat anything yet? I am aware that anxiety can affect your digestive tract into having a lowered appetite, but I insist that you attempt to eat at the very least once a day.”

You shook your head causing him to stand up to grab you a ration bar. You took it and begrudgingly ate. Between bites, you attempted to look Tech in the eyes.

“Thank you for caring, Tech. It's…. Nice”

Tech took in the features of your eyes, making sure to capture every little feature while he had the chance. A moment later, he adjusted his goggles and looked into his cup,

“That is nothing to thank me for. But… you are welcome. Anytime you require emotional assistance, notify me. You will never be a burden in doing so.”

You laughed at Tech a bit. His formal way of speech no matter who he talked to always seemed to be present. Even in intimate moments alone. You hoped he didn't think you were making fun of him. You just found him intriguing.

“Well alright…I'll keep that in mind Tech.” you stared into your cup, warmth surrounding your hands. You appreciated Tech’s efforts dearly, though you felt a bit guilty for breaking down in front of him. The back of your hands stung a bit, you didn't realize how raw they were from your fidgeting earlier. You took that as a sign that trimming your nails more frequently would be a good idea.

“May I see your hands?” You didn't notice him staring, but you reluctantly set down your cup and held them out to him. He set down his own cup before gently taking your hands into his for his inspection. He frowned at the wounds you accidentally gave yourself. A clear liquid formed over them as your body worked to prevent infection. “A bit deeper than expected… Wait here.”

He stood up suddenly to grab the med kit, coming back to you with Bacta spray and a roll of bandage wrap. He sat back in his pilot seat and took your left hand which took the worst of the damage.

“It may feel a bit uncomfortable. The texture is rather unpleasant.”

You grimaced once he sprayed your hands. He was right, it was quite slimy. It felt…honestly rather gross. but you ignored it the best you could, watching him work on you. Once he finished with the spray he skillfully wrapped your hands; likely having experience with minor wound care. He paused and kept your hands in his, looking up at you, tilting his head to get your attention.

“How… is that? Too tight?”

“No- no it's good.”

He nodded but didn't let go. He seemed lost in thought as he looked at them. You felt his grip tighten, causing you to grimace slightly at the discomfort it brought. Suddenly, he hung his head; bringing his forehead to your hands. You were… more than a little confused. But you didn't break the silence that hung heavily in the Marauder’s cycled air. He broke the silence instead.

Head still resting on your hands, he spoke quietly, “I will make sure to obtain a proper stimulation gadget for you.”

All you could offer him was a small okay, not sure how to navigate the situation. You couldn't figure out what he was feeling. But his discomfort was clear as he removed himself, excusing himself to the refresher. You sat there for multiple standard minutes trying to decipher him.

Once he exited, he was obviously trying to string together something to say. But for once he couldn’t find anything.

“You alright Tech?”

He snapped his head up at you, “Oh! Ah yes, I am fine. To be blunt, I do not know exactly how to behave with you at the moment. This is quite new to me as well.”

You nodded “Well you don't need to do anything special. Your company is enough, Tech.” He sighed at that. He clearly felt like he should be able to offer more. But he was willing to take your word for it. He stood next to where you sat, probably bored out of his mind.

You looked up at him, finally allowing yourself to find some comfort in his honey-brown eyes. You locked gazes as the peace you felt warmed you through your core. You found yourself leaning into him, head resting on his side. He was tense at first, not used to your unusual want for physical contact. But he found himself returning your gesture with a hand to your shoulder, pulling you closer.

#the bad batch #clone force 99 #tbb tech #tech x reader #sfw interaction only #tech fluff #tech the bad batch

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ttzamara · 2 years ago

Note

How about a crosshair fic? Comforting him after he runs from the empire and starts regreting what happened.

Maybe him and reader didn't like each other, I dunno.. i love truth or truth btw!

Can be fluff or smut or both?

First of all, thank you so much love!

Crosshair deserves all the love and comfort he needs! So here you go

You had no choice

Crosshair x reader (no y/n this time)

(SWF, sadboy cross, comfort, mentions of order 66, fluff)

1.1k Words (:

--------

"How is it that you, of all the people you could have run to, choose to come to me?"

You asked, looking at him with skeptical eyes.

You had never gotten along well, his snide remarks and the way he held himself in front of everyone was nerve-wracking. But one was his brothers and the other was you, but he seemed to despise you even more than all the other things.

"Have you ever seen us have friends?"

He asked, the toothpick in his mouth rolled from side to side. He looked horrible, his beard was stubbly and not clean shaven as usual, his hair was a little longer than usual, his eyes were surrounded by deep dark circles and above his right ear was an nasty looking scar.

"Why are you here anyway? What's going on and what do you want from me Crosshair?"

You asked, stepping aside to let him into your apartment. He stopped in the middle of the hallway and looked around in silence, he had never been here before, he had gotten a lot of offers from the others to come and have dinner and party with them one night, but he turned them down every time.

"Did you notice what happened in the last few months?"

He asked and followed you into your kitchen, you silently used the coffee machine and sighed.

"The Jedi were executed for treason and all the clones killed the people they fought side by side with for years without hesitation? You mean this crazy game?"

You replied, taking a deep breath before turning to look at him with tired eyes. Sighing, he sat down on one of the chairs at the counter, rubbed his eyes and then accepted the cup you gave him with a grateful nod.

"It's not quite like that. It seems the Kaminoans put a chip in us, a so-called inhibitor chip, none of us knew anything about it.... I mean how could we?

After we were ordered to execute 'Order 66', the chips activated and almost all clones executed what seems to have been planned for ages. All the orders that were assigned to us afterwards, everyone did it without even thinking what we were doing, the damage we were causing."

He said and lowered his head, his fingers tapping sporadically against the cup and a dull look entering his eyes.

You had never seen him like this before, he looked like he was regretting what he had done for the first time. His shoulders slumped in defeat and his eyes squeezed tightly shut, as if he were trying to hold his emotions together.

"Crosshair, where are the others? Are they still out there with the empire?"

You asked, and his shoulders tensed. He slowly opened his eyes and looked at you with a bitter look.

"No, their chip never activated."

Answered the silver haired man and he took the toothpick out of his mouth before snorting in frustration.

"We were on Kaller when the order came, General Bilaba was executed by her men when we were about to run to the other location. Her padawan was with us and when he saw what happened he ran into the forest. I wanted to kill him and if he hadn't knocked me out I would have done it.

Hunter let him go. When we returned to Kamino we were given a mission to neutralize a group of insurgents on Onderon, but it was just a group of Republican fighters who didn't want to be part of the Empire."

A tear ran down his cheek and he looked out the window. The city was so alive, yet it looked so quiet.

"Hunter gave us the order to let them be and we let them go, but a probe droid had recorded everything and when we got back to Kamino we got arrested. We were warned by a little girl not to go back to Kamino, but Hunter wanted to get her and leave, that didn't work out so well."

He continued and snorted ironically. More tears ran down his cheeks and you looked at him sympathetically, in all the time you had known each other he had never talked so much, let alone shown so much emotion.

"I was taken out of the cell after a while and my chip activity was increased. They put me in new armor afterwards and made me a commander, maker I felt so good.. So powerful and so meaningful. But it was all for nothing, the others fled with the girl and left me on Kamino and the times I saw them after that, again. But who can blame them, I tried to kill them".

He said and squeezed his eyes tightly shut, more tears running freely down his cheeks and his arms wrapped tightly around him.

You straightened up and walked with gentle steps around the counter to him to put a hand on his shoulder. Your head tilted slightly to the side and you looked at him more closely, his eyes were still tightly closed, his cheeks were moist and his lip wobbled slightly.

"Crosshair. I don't know what else happened. But please know that what happened there over time was not you, you had no choice."

He whimpered when he heard your words.

"But I did it regardless."

He replied and his voice cracked before he looked at you with a broken look. You took his hand in yours and rubbed soothingly over his fingers.

You gently put your arms around him, his tense body relaxed after a short time in your grasp and he gently rested his forehead against your collarbone as more tears ran down his cheeks.

It was incredibly quiet in your apartment for quite a while, apart from the occasional sobs. The dim lights of the passing ships briefly illuminated the dark room you were in.

Crosshair sighed and looked up sheepishly.

"I should go."

"Crosshair, stay here. I can't just let you run around outside when I know you're wanted, please."

You said, looking at him pleadingly, his gaze softening as he looked at you.

"I need to find the others."

He replied and looked at you with a torn look. You went to him and took his hand in yours to intertwine your fingers.

"And I'll help you find them again, but please stay Cross."

You whispered and looked up at him with pleading eyes. He looked at you silently and nodded firmly after a while, his grip on your fingers tightened and he looked deep into your eyes.

"Okay, I'll stay."

Thank you so much for reading love!

Taglist:

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itsnotira · 4 months ago

Text

Dateko (Date Tech):┬┴┬┴┬┴

My Lovecore Playlist My Paradise~ Ask Box Masterlist

SORRY, HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING HERE

First Years

Kanji Koganegawa:

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ‧₊˚

Second Years

Kenji Futakuchi:

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ‧₊˚

Third Years

Takanobu Aone:

#haikyuu #hq #haikyū!!#littlemsira #itsnotira #sfw #ask #ask me anything #send asks #twitter #date tech #dateko #aone takanobu #aone x reader #haikyuu aone #aone fluff #Kenji futakuchi #kanji koganegawa #goshiki x koganegawa

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lothcats-and-clones · 5 months ago

Note

I love hurt/comfort fics and this one is fantastic!

Hey bestie! I love your work and as I've gotten to know you better, you've been an amazing friend ❤️

I was wondering if you could do some hurt/comfort/whump with f!reader x Tech! Maybe they have crash landed or been captured together or something. Perhaps they don't necessarily get along with each other but this situation forces them to work together and they discover that maybe the other isn't so bad. ❤️ Thanks!

Crash Landed 🌊

🫧 Pairing: Tech X Female Reader

word count: 5.9k

Prompts: none

Summary: After you and Tech crash land in a remote Jungle, the two of you need to put your heads together and work as a team. Which is sometimes easier said than done.

warnings: Hurt, Angst and Comfort Whump Trope, Mentions of Injury to Reader and Tech, reader has a fear of blood, Kinda Enemies to Lovers, Reconciliation, Talks about Feelings, Huddling for Warmth, Heated First Kiss, Female Reader. Not proofread.

authors note: I love this idea! I hope I did it justice. And by the word count, clearly I enjoyed writing it. Thanks for being and amazing friend @arctrooper69 🩶

You awaken, dazed and confused, your head heavy as your eyes adjust to the dim, smoke-filled surroundings. What's that smell? Is that... smoke? What happened?

Your body aches with every movement as you manage to sit up with a hefty groan, feeling the weight of gravity pull at your limbs. Rubbing your eyes with your hands to focus, you realise that everything is on its side, the walls of the shuttle caved in, sparks flying from broken control panels. What a mess. But, you're sure you were not alone before this happened.

“Tech?” you call out, your voice croaky before you start coughing, as if your lungs had filled up with smoke.

No reply. “Please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead,” you mutter to yourself as panic sets in, the memories flooding back. The mission, the Imperial's, crashing. Yes, that’s it. You crash-landed. But where? And where was Tech?

Luckily, your thoughts are answered as a torch shines in the distance, followed by loud clattering as if objects were being moved. You squint through the smoke, trying to ignore the acrid scent of burning metal. “Ah, there you are,” Tech says as he comes into view, his armor scratched, and his goggles a little skewed on his head.

“What happened?” you ask as he approaches you, another spluttering cough escaping your lips.

“If you take a look around, it will become apparent that we have crashed,” he replies. Ah yes, still a pain in the neck even after both of you nearly died.

You and Tech had rarely seen eye to eye. Since you joined the squad months ago, he always seemed to be on top of you, trying to prove you wrong or point out mistakes. It was tiresome. And now, unfortunately, you were stuck with him.

Rolling your eyes, you were in no mood for his tone and began to stand. However, as soon as you did, your leg gave way, your knees slamming to the floor. A cry of pain escaped you, making Tech look up from his cracked datapad, his eyes widening with slight concern. “Are you injured?”

“Obviously,” you grumbled in reply, stretching out your legs to assess the damage, but you didn’t see anything at first. It wasn’t until Tech crouched down in front of you that he spotted it.

“You have a laceration on your calf,” he said, his voice calm but concerned, inspecting the wound closely, and you did a double-take at his words.

“W-What? Is it bad?” You tried to hide the panic in your voice, but if there’s one thing you hated, it was blood.

Tech didn’t reply straight away, his eyes inspecting the wound closely, but your nerves began to eat away at you. “Tech, is it bleeding?” You asked quickly, your chest heaving as the fear started to creep in.

“Yes,” he confirmed, not making eye contact with you before he stood again, “I shall look for a medkit among this rubble. Stay here.” Well, it’s not like you had anywhere to go anytime soon anyway.

You wanted to call out to him, you wanted him to stay with you, but that would be inviting him to babysit you. Just because you were scared didn’t mean you wanted Tech to take care of you, which he probably would not do anyway.

Luckily, he wasn’t gone long and returned with a battered medkit. Some vials were smashed inside, and some tools were of no use, but you were glad that the bandages were untarnished. You had to look away as he started to dress your leg, cutting away the loose fabric to your pants before he skillfully wrapped it up. “That should do for now. Can you stand? We need to get out of here as it wouldn't surprise me if this shuttle imploded at any minute.”

Comfort was not his strong suit, clearly.

“I’ll try,” you began to haul yourself up your feet, but again, you were too weak. “No, no, no, I can’t.” As you were about to fall once again, Tech tucked himself under your arm, a hand steady on your waist as he kept you up.

“I will have to carry you.”

“No!” You squeaked. No way in hell were you going to let him carry you around. No way you wanted to appear more of a burden than you already are.

He raised an eyebrow, unmoved by your objection. “This is not open to debate. You can not put weight on your leg.”

With a frustrated sigh, you relented. “Alright, fine.”

With a wince of pain shooting up your leg, Tech manages to slip his arm around your neck, hoisting you over his shoulder with little effort. Each step he makes sends a jolt of unbearable pain through your leg, but you grit your teeth, holding back any sign of distress, more focused on figuring out how the two of you will get out of this mess.

You escape the shuttle, and the scorching sun immediately washes over you, its heat oppressive and suffocating. The air is humid and sticky. Great.

"So, where are we?" you ask awkwardly, still draped over his shoulder as he trudges onward.

"Uncertain," he replies, which does nothing to ease your nerves.

After a few minutes of walking, he finally sets you down on some dry grass. The sun beats down, forcing you to shield your eyes with your hand as you survey your surroundings. From the looks of it, you’re stranded in a jungle, with a vast expanse of open water stretching out before you. You could be literally anywhere.

“I suggest we find shelter, food, and a water source promptly. Since you are in no state to do anything, this task falls upon me,” he says, not once meeting your gaze as he speaks.

"Are you trying to blame me for hurting my leg? If I'm not mistaken, Tech, you were the one who pushed us into that shuttle," you retort, anger bubbling over.

"I am not blaming you, although if it was not for your mistake on the mission I would not have had to intervene." He trails off, not seeming to care at the dirty looks being sent his way. "I am merely stating facts." He says simply, tucking his datapad into his pouch before glancing down at you.

Deciding to keep your mouth shut for now, you refrain from arguing, knowing it won’t solve anything. Instead, you let Tech take the lead because, as much as you hate to admit it, he's right. You are in no state to do anything at the moment.

Tech leaves you alone for a while, giving you one of his blasters as a precaution before returning around half an hour later, announcing he found a suitable place to set up camp. You simply nod before glancing over at the crashed shuttle. “Is there anything we can salvage from that at least?” you ask aloud, drawing Tech’s attention back to you before casting a glance over at the debris.

“Perhaps. But we will have to be quick-." Before he can finish his thoughts, a sudden explosion rips through the air as the shuttle suddenly erupts into a burst of flames, sending debris flying in all directions. You both watch in shock as the flames engulf the wreckage, leaving nothing salvageable. Never mind.

Once Tech had led you to a secluded spot under the protective canopy of towering trees. With careful movements, you managed to shift your weight onto your knees, the pain radiating from your leg causing you to bite back a wings of pain.

“You are doing it wrong.” As you went ahead and started to make a fire, Tech’s unsolicited advice on fire-building techniques went in one ear and out the other. Survival instincts was one of your specialties after all and so you ignored him as as you gathered dry twigs and leaves, arranging them meticulously into a makeshift pyre.

As Tech continued his lecture on the ‘correct way’ to build a fire, you struck the flint, the spark igniting a blaze that danced and crackled life. A triumphant smirk tugged at the corners of your lips as Tech fell silent, the warmth of the flames casting flickering shadows on the thick backdrop of the jungle.

“As you have accomplished the fire, all we need now is some edible food and water," Tech remarked and you hummed in slight agreement.

Carefully, you leaned back and against a sturdy boulder for support as you turned your attention to Tech, whose fingers deftly navigated his datapad. "Do you think you’ll be able to contact the others?" you inquired softly, wanting to hear good news right now.

Tech's brow furrowed in concentration as he tinkered with the device, the soft glow of the cracked screen illuminating his features in the darkness. "If I can get my device to work properly and salvage the shuttle… then possibly. But…" His voice trailed off, uncertainty lingering in the air.

"You have doubts?" you pressed, concerned lacing your words as you watched him shift uneasily in his spot.

“Yes,” he says as he stands, tucking his datapad away again, “I have my doubts.”

You both fall into silence, something quite rare from Tech as he was always chattering away about something. But for now, he was quiet. Deep in thought. A part of you wished you knew what he was thinking, wondering what was happening in that marvelous mind of his and if he had thought about what would happen if you two were never found which was a reoccurring thought in yours.

“I will be back soon,” he speaks up, breaking the silence after a few minutes.

“Where are you going?” You ask, a little too quickly. But truthfully, you didn’t want to be on your own right now. Yet you didn’t want him to know that.

He watches you almost tentatively before saying, “I need to gather provisions. I will not be long.”

You didn’t protest as you watched him walk away, disappearing through the trees as nightfall approached. Sighing softly to yourself, you sat lost in thought, the flickering flames casting shifting shadows across your face as you think back to all the things you should have done on that mission. Perhaps if you didn’t let your pride get the better of you, you wouldn’t have to sit wondering when Tech will return and if either of you will make it out of here.

You don’t even remember falling asleep last night but you do remember waking up to the chill that had kept you shivering throughout the night despite sleeping by the crackling fire.

As you awaken to the gentle warmth of the morning sun filtering through the dense foliage above, a stark contrast to last night, with a heavy sigh, you sit up. You groan as your body feels more fatigued and worn out than before. Nausea washes over you as you groggily inspect your leg, the sight of the dried and bloodied bandage from the previous day making your stomach churn. Obviously, you'll need to tend to it again.

“Will you need my assistance or are you capable of tending to your own wound today?” Tech's voice cuts through the quiet morning air, his tone as matter-of-fact as ever. It's always hard to discern whether he's being genuinely helpful or simply blunt.

Deciding to handle this task yourself this time, you nod, expressing your intention to manage it alone. And even though you wanted to do it alone, Tech approaches nonetheless, the battered med kit in hand.

With Tech standing by, you cautiously remove the old bandage, your stomach turning at the sight of the open wound. Despite the lack of fresh blood, the dried remnants are enough to make you feel queasy. "You do not like blood," Tech observes, his statement pulling your attention away from the gruesome sight.

"Hm, how could you tell?" you mutter sarcastically, attempting to deflect from the discomfort.

“I have always known,” Tech responds cryptically, his expression giving nothing away as he crouches down beside you.

Curiosity piqued, you inquired further, wondering how he could have possibly known your hatred for blood. After all, you couldn't recall ever mentioning it to him before. “I… have observed your behaviour before and just so happened to pick up on it. I also recall you mentioning it to Hunter when you first joined.”

Hm, that’s… surprising.

You say nothing of it and instead allow him to take care of you. As Tech takes over, gently raising your leg and propping it over his knee, you can't help but notice the care he takes.

Despite his typically relaxed demeanor, there's a hint of concern in his actions as he tells you that you ‘may want to avert your gaze’ as he begins to peel the old bandage away.

Happily, you turn your attention to the leaves above, trying to ignore the stinging sensation spreading through your leg and the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Though, the warm breeze brushes against your exposed skin, offering a slight comfort amidst the discomfort.

“H-How does it look?” you ask, your voice strained, the anxiety evident in your tone as you feel Tech's careful movements.

“It appears that you have an infection. And I do not have the right resources to treat it.” Your heart sinks at his words, a sense of dread settling in the pit of your stomach as you try to suppress the rising panic.

“Great.”

“I will assume that is sarcasm,” he hums before passing you his canteen, “I found a water source last night. This has been purified and suitable to drink. I suggest you do that.”

Taking the canteen from his grasp, your mouth suddenly feels dry at the thought of water. You take a sip and can’t help but grimace at the taste, the bitterness lingering on your tongue. “Are you sure it’s been purified?”

“Yes, I did not say it will taste nice.”

You roll your eyes and take another remorseful sip before passing it back to him, your mind inadvertently drifting to the state of your leg. It looked worse than you anticipated.

“Shit.” You curse under your breath as you blink away the tears, the frustration and fear bubbling to the surface. Of course, your leg would get infected. Why would a crash-landing be a stroll in the park?

“I agree with your sentiments.” Tech's voice is steady as he carefully applies a new bandage, his movements precise and calculated. “I suggest you rest.”

“No,” you shake your head adamantly, meeting his gaze with determination, “I’m not going to sit here and do nothing. I have to do something.”

He blinks at you, frowning behind his goggles. “You are in no state to do anything. You are injured and so-.”

“So I’m a hindrance?” You challenge, the frustration evident in your tone as you refuse to back down.

“In a way, yes.” He says directly, the weight of his words hanging in the air as he stands up straight after carefully placing your leg down. “Any further injury could lead to loss of limb. Or worse. We cannot risk getting that leg infected even more. Do you not think you have caused enough grievance?”

Anger bubbles at his words, yet, a part of you knew he was right. You were both in this mess because of you but sitting on the forest floor doing nothing felt like a last resort. “Can you at least just help me stand up?” you grumble, your voice tinged with frustration. “Please?”

He hesitates, seemingly torn between his concern for your well-being and his reluctance to encourage any further strain on your injured leg. However, the dejected look on your face softens his resolve, knowing that he wouldn’t hear the end of it until he complies. Reluctantly, he extends his hand, offering you the support you need to rise to your feet.

Carefully, you put slight pressure on your leg, testing its strength. Surprisingly, it isn’t as painful as it was yesterday, giving you a glimmer of hope that you might be able to move around by limping or hopping for now—especially when Tech isn’t looking.

“Thanks,” you say stiffly, folding your arms over your chest, a mix of gratitude and stubbornness in your demeanor as you watch him pick something out of his pouch and hand it over to you. “What’s this?”

He presents you with a strange-looking leaf, its unfamiliar shape and texture raising your curiosity. “It is food. Edible. It is all I could find last night but will fill us with enough nutrients for now.”

The rest of the day didn’t unfold as smoothly as you both had hoped. While Tech ventured back to the shuttle in a bid to secure a signal to reach the others, you took it upon yourself to be productive. Somehow.

With the terrain familiar to you from extensive research in your past, thoughts of herbal remedies for injuries like the one on your leg flooded your mind. So, after crafting a makeshift walking stick from a discarded branch sturdy enough to support your weight, you set off from camp, determined to gather the necessary ingredients.

Luck seemed to be on your side as you found the correct herbs and plants without much difficulty. However, your return to camp was met with an annoyed-looking Tech, his frustration evident as he started an argument for your sudden departure and for not telling him where you were since comms were dead too; coupled with his ongoing concerns about your leg.

Insisting that you were fine, you proceeded to apply the herbal remedy to your wound, wrapping it back up and allowing nature to take its course. Though Tech couldn’t help but offer snide remarks whenever you winced at the slightest movement, your remedy proved effective in easing the discomfort for a while.

Meanwhile, Tech’s attempts to establish a signal to the others had proved fruitless, only adding to his growing frustration. He was normally very composed under pressure, but his visible agitation was somewhat unsettling, leaving you feeling both concerned and also quite upset to see him this way.

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the camp, the atmosphere between you two remained tense. While you rested against the boulder again, Tech sat with his head in his hands, visibly weighed down by the day's events.

An uncharacteristic urge to ease his burden prompted you to speak up. “Why don’t you sleep? Try again tomorrow,” you suggest, breaking the silence and drawing his gaze across the flickering flames of the fire pit.

“One of us needs to stay awake and take watch,” he insists, decided on his decision straight away.

You frown, realising that you slept through most of the previous night, which meant… “Tech, did you not sleep last night?” you ask, your concern evident in your tone.

“No.” He mutters, “Like I said, one of us needs to stay awake.”

Squinting at him, a hint of annoyance creeps into your voice. “That’s not healthy, especially when we’re stuck like this. You need to sleep or something.”

“I am used to not getting sleep on the Marauder so I do not see why this is any different,” he counters, his stance firm.

Though grateful for his commitment to keeping watch, you can’t help but feel exasperated by his stubbornness. Rolling your eyes, you wrap your arms around yourself as a chill sets in. “To be fair,” you begin, “I kept waking up last night. It was way too cold.”

“Yes, I noticed,” he responds, his tone softened slightly by the acknowledgement.

“Oh,” you say softly before closing your eyes, allowing the weariness of the day to wash over you. However, you’re abruptly jolted from the verge of sleep by the sound of movement nearby. With a start, you almost jump out of your skin as Tech stands in front of you.

“Stars Tech!” You gasp, his sudden proximity shocking you. “What?”

“I want you to go to sleep.”

You blink at him.

“Okay…?”

“So,” you watch him shift, his movements awkward, “I will let you sleep beside me.”

It takes you a moment to comprehend his meaning before you pull a strange face, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion and slight amusement. “Are you asking me to cuddle you?” The thought surprises you, but oddly enough, it doesn’t sound too bad right about now.

“I would not put it so conveniently,” he says, his tone betraying a hint of discomfort, “I am merely stating that I could use my body warmth to help you sleep.”

You’re taken aback by his offer, but exhaustion soon overwhelms any reservations you may have had. “Oh… well, if you’re okay with that?”

“I would not have offered otherwise.” Tech’s smile is small but genuine, and you can’t help but softly smile back as you both sit beside one another, gazing into the flames of the fire pit. Soon, you find your eyes trailing down to his bare hands, frowning as you notice they look quite sweaty; an odd sight considering the cool evening air.

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you gaze up at his face, finding him engrossed in fixing his datapad. But something seems off—his complexion appears clammy, and there’s a flush to his cheeks.

Instinctively, you reach out and place the back of your hand to his forehead, gasping at the unexpected heat radiating from his skin. “Tech!” You squeak, startling him. “You have a fever? Why didn’t you tell me?”

He doesn’t even look at you, giving off a look like a character who had been bitten by something in those horrible horror holomovies and pretends to hide the bite. “Tech,” you say his name again, more sternly. “Are you hurt?”

He sighs, dropping his device into his lap before he lifts his arm to you, showing a bandage of his own that is stained in dry blood. “As I was maneuvering through the shuttle, I just so happened to trip and catch my arm on some jagged metal. It is nothing to fret about.”

“Oh, come off it, you’re burning up.” Tech notices the slight worry in your tone, watching you lean to your other side as you produce the herbal paste you used on yourself earlier. “Let me put this on.”

“Rest and water will do me fine-.”

“That’s funny, seeing as you just told me you’d rather me sleep than yourself.” You say with a roll of your eyes, taking a firm yet gentle hold of his arm before you start to peel the bandage away, holding down your nausea just for him.

Tech watches you with a concerned gaze. “I must insist…” he trails off as his eyes move to the sticky paste, clearly uncertain about your own remedy.

“Don’t you trust me?” You ask, and time seems to freeze as you both lock eyes, speaking silently to one another. His gaze is strong and, albeit, quite hypnotising behind his yellow-tinted goggles. But, you seem to snap out of your gaze as he replies:

“I do.”

“Well,” you say, clearing your throat as you drop your gaze to his arm, “let me help you.”

You’re gentle with your movements, applying the remedy over his arm with precision. You could feel his stare on your face, and so you slowly looked back up at him, his face so near you could almost feel the warmth of his breath dancing on your skin. “See? That should help with the pain,” you find yourself whispering.

For once, the two of you didn’t seem to be at each other's necks, both of you seeming to try and read each other’s thoughts. Tech was not the best at reading feelings, and as you gaze into his eyes, you find yourself not being able to read his too.

Eventually, you look away. An unusual heat started to crawl up your neck, and you didn’t think it was from the flame from the fire or his ‘body warmth’ as he put it. Lack of sleep and lack of food and water. That had to be it.

“Are you sure you don’t want to sleep, Tech?” You ask again as the drowsiness from before seeps back, and Tech turns his head away from you, inspecting his arm quietly before picking up his datapad once more.

“I am sure.”

The next day unfolded much like the one before it.

Tech grumbled about your mobility, his attempts to fix up the shuttle yielding no results, and the air between you both grew heavy with unspoken tension.

Yet, as nightfall descended once again, you found yourself nestled beside Tech, his warmth offering a rare respite, allowing you to drift into a peaceful sleep. And miraculously, your homemade remedy seemed to work wonders on both of you. You could now move with a bit more ease, and the infections on your injuries had cleared up.

But as you stared into the dancing flames that night, a wave of sorrow washed over you.

“You were right, you know?” you whispered into the night, the warmth of the fire casting flickering shadows on your face.

“About what?” Tech responded, his eyes fixed on his datapad, the soft glow illuminating his features.

Tears welled up at the corners of your eyes, and you struggled to keep them at bay, feeling utterly helpless. “That it was my fault… with the mission. If I had just let you do the data transfer instead of insisting I could do it then…” Your voice faltered, choked by a sob that escaped your lips, startling Tech. “Then we would’ve made it out in time! A-and the others… Tech, we don’t even know if they’re alive!”

Tech stared at you wide-eyed, your sudden outburst of emotion catching him off guard. Yet, amidst your tears streaming down your face and your hands clasped over your head, he uttered your name softly, “Mistakes happen.”

“But they don’t with you, Tech!” you cried, turning to face him. “You’re always so good, so perfect at everything you do, and I… I just wanted to prove myself to you! I always feel like I am not good enough for you, and that’s why you don’t like me.”

For a moment, the crackling of the fire was the only sound between you, the flames casting a warm glow on both of your faces. Tech's expression softened as he regarded you with understanding.

“Not liking you, is not something that ever crossed my mind,” he finally said, his voice low. “You were determined, and that is a trait that is to be commended. It is true, I often find it easier to rely on myself but I am programmed that way. But you, you gave it your all, and that is commendable. Do not be so hard on yourself.”

You sniffle, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing down on you like a heavy blanket. The tears keep escaping your eyes, trailing down your cheeks as you struggle to contain your emotions. "But… because of me, you’re stuck here?"

Tech’s gaze softens, his eyes reflecting understanding. His voice carries a comforting warmth as he responds, “I am aware. But think how you would be if I were not here.”

Your mind whirls with the possibilities of what could have been, but you still feel terrible. "But we may not see the others again… we may not ever leave here." Your voice trembles with the weight of uncertainty, your heart heavy with guilt.

Tech’s gaze shifts away, his brows furrowing in contemplation as he adjusts his goggles. "We have to adapt to survive, we always have. And regarding the others, the probability of their survival is 89%. It is likely they are out there looking for us. And if I get the shuttle repaired enough to get a connection, I can send a signal and hope they pick up our coordinates.” His voice carries a note of determination.

You cling to his words like a lifeline, a glimmer of hope flickering in the depths of your despair. How could you have been so stupid? But, his words held promise but you can’t help but ask: "Promise me you’re not lying to me?"

“I have not once ever lied to you and I would not start now.” His response is steady, his words a soothing balm to your battered soul.

As your tears slowly subside, a tentative smile graces your lips. "Thanks Tech,” you murmur, your voice thick with emotion. “I bet I look a mess right now. I’m a pretty ugly cryer.”

Tech’s gaze softens, a hint of warmth in his eyes as he searches for the right words. "No, you look…” He trails off, his gaze lingering on your tear-streaked face. He reaches out, his touch feather-light as he gently brushes away a stray tear that glistens on your lashes.

“What?” you prompt, your breath catching in your throat at his unfamiliar touch as you meet his gaze.

“Like you,” he finishes, a little awkward but his words were imbued with sincerity as he offers you a small smile.

Emotion wells up inside you, a tidal wave of gratitude and affection crashing over you. Without a second thought, you lean forward, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace. He freezes for a moment, taken aback by the sudden intimacy, before tentatively returning the hug, his arms encircling you in a protective cocoon.

As you’re wrapped in each other's embrace, you find solace; a fleeting moment of peace.

As sleep beckons, you can’t help but nestle closer to him, finding comfort in his presence as you drift off into the realm of dreams, his steady heartbeat a lullaby.

In the days that followed, a significant improvement became evident. Tech’s progress on the shuttle repair was slow, hampered by the absence of his proper tools. Despite the challenges, both of your injuries had begun to heal, and the atmosphere in camp had lightened considerably.

Although the water still tasted like dirt, you were no longer dehydrated. Discovering some rare fruits that proved not to be poisonous added to the uplifting spirit.

At night, neither of you seemed to mind huddling for warmth. You would lay against him, listening to the plans and stories he had, especially if you begged him to tell you. Although they were very matter-of-fact and not overly entertaining, you found the tales of the squad before you joined enjoyable. You both no longer bickered, clearing the air of past arguments, and genuinely enjoyed each other's company. Although it was not like either of you had any other options.

But that’s not the only thing that had changed. You found yourself getting nervous around Tech. A good kind of nervous. When he was working on the shuttle, you couldn’t help but sit back and admire him at work. He was attractive, sure, but you found him more than that. He listened intently to you, offering advice and tips without seeming to mansplain to you.

So that night by the fire again, sitting by his side, you weren’t so surprised about the next set of events.

“What are you going to do when we leave this place?” You ask, your body twisting to face him as you rest your elbow against the boulder, hand on the side of your head as you lean yourself up to look at him.

He smiles, noticing how you said ‘when’ and not ‘if’, highlighting your trust in him. “I will most likely do what I usually do, get ready for the next mission set for us.”

You roll your eyes. “You don’t want to celebrate?”

“Celebrate what, exactly?”

“Well,” you start with a soft laugh, “us finally putting our differences aside and not killing each other for one.” You suggest, earning a fond chuckle from the clone before continuing. “And surviving.”

He thinks for a moment, looking into the flames and then at you. “I suppose those are adequate reasons to celebrate, yes. Will the others be joining?”

“Sure,” you say with a smile but there’s a small swirl in your stomach as you say, “unless… you don’t want them to join us?”

Tech blinks, and for a second, it was like he was short-circuiting as he thinks about your proposal. Was it flirtation in your tone or had he imagined it? “I do not mind either way,” he explains, his chest slightly puffing out. “It would be nice to perhaps talk like this in a more formal setting elsewhere. Just us.”

You silently suck in a deep breath, a shy glint in your eyes. “I think I’d like that, yeah.” Your tone lowered, and you can’t help but notice that Tech had turned his body more to face you. Then, his eyes flickered to your lips as you inadvertently licked them, chapped but tinged with the sweetness of the fruit before.

You hold his gaze, slightly tilting your head as you take a gamble and look to his lips, then to his eyes. It was an invitation, and you hoped that Tech got the hint.

And he did.

Slowly, he sets his datapad to one side, finally letting it go as he focuses all of his attention on you. There’s a charge in the air, and you see him lean closer... and closer…

Your breath hitches, eyes slowly falling shut as he closes the distance, his nose brushing against yours before his lips meet your own in a soft, shy kiss. Leaning more into it, your hand finds refuge on his leg whilst one of his hands comes up and cups your cheek.

You sigh into him, heart racing as you feel him grow bolder. His lips, warm and inviting, meld with yours, igniting a spark that you both had been unknowingly kindling. His touch sends shivers down your spine as the kiss deepens, becoming more desperate, more intense. The jungle, the planet, the whole star system around you seems to fade away.

Tech utters your name against your lips, your soft moan of a response allowing his tongue into your mouth, exploring, igniting a fiery passion within you.

Gently, he lays you down by the fire, the crackling flames casting dancing shadows across his face. He pulls away for a moment, pulling his goggles off his face as he peers down at you, his eyes a dance of different emotions. “You are enchanting.”

But with a hunger that can no longer be contained, he crashes his lips back to yours, now allowing you to let your tongue meet his in a fervent dance; fingers tangling in his untamed hair meanwhile his hands roam over your body.

The next day brought a breakthrough. Tech managed to gain contact.

Overwhelmed by joy, you ran into Tech’s arms, jumping and letting him spin you around with a chuckle as you knew both of you would soon be saved! And better yet, the others were alive and safe too.

“I can’t believe you did it! You really did it.” You grin at him as he pulls back from the hug but does not let you down, instead cradles you in his arms.

“You seem surprised.”

“Oh Tech,” you say adoringly, leaning forward and giving his lips a soft kiss, smiling as he hums against your lips.

“I will never get tired of you kissing me,” he utters, truly in awe of how this sudden turn of events had happened. It was quick, but neither of you seemed to mind.

Last night was magic. All the bad memories had faded from your mind, solely just focusing on Tech and yourself. When all hope had seemed lost, your mistake led you to one of the best choices you ever could make. And maybe, that promised date would become something more.

Masterlist is pinned😊

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#sfw #tech x reader #tbb fic #tbb #tw injury #tw blood

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stellarbit · 8 months ago

Text

Shifting Loyalties

No warnings. 2.3k words

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: nada

Pairings: SFW The Batch x fem!reader

Summary: 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.

NSFW Edition

Inspired by physical touch by @queenariesofnarnia :') it's perfect

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."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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. "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.

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.

931 notes · View notes

sincerelyyuu · 7 months ago

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"in the end, it's still you." p1. • gojo satoru & geto suguru

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ synopsis: you thought having your two best friends satoru and suguru by your side was all that you needed to get through the rough times. but slowly you find satoru slipping through your fingers and suguru tries his hardest to help pick up the pieces of your wounded heart ➼ pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader, geto suguru x fem!reader ➼ content/tw: angst angst angst, sfw, fluff if you squint, s2 spoilers, teen!gojo and teen!geto during jujutsu tech days, both boys are hopelessly in love with bestfriend!reader, pet names, reader is also a sorcerer in the same year and is unaware of their romantic feelings ➼ wc: 2.8K words ➼ a/n: my first jjk fic! let me know how i did ♡ ➼ part one, part two, part three

The life of a sorcerer isn’t for the faint hearted. You found yourself spending your days constantly training, pushing your physical body to its limit. The way your skin crawled from the constant bloodshed that came with every curse you exorcised. The constant criticisms that came from the people around you to become even stronger weighing heavily on your mind.

The pressure was beginning to take a huge toll on you. You felt like you as an individual didn’t matter, your thoughts and feelings deemed irrelevant all in the name of saving others.

However, there were always two people that always made you feel seen.

Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru.

It all began when you were enrolled into Jujutsu High during your first year. Leaving behind the secluded town that you once called home, you were completely alone. Knowing what was expected from you, you were told that you were strictly here to become the strongest sorcerer you could be.

But fate had other plans for you. From the day you first stepped into the classroom, Satoru immediately gravitated to you. He knew you were strong and that there was more to you than meets the eye. You also peaked Suguru’s interest from the way you steeled yourself in an attempt to not reveal too much of your inner self. Somehow along the way through various missions and a multitude of adventures, the two men managed to crack away at your defenses and you found yourself in this trio of friendship. Wherever you went, they were right behind you.

Satoru and Suguru were like yin and yang, both physically and metaphorically. The white haired male carried an air of confidence wherever he went. He was the type to never take things too seriously unless truly necessary and he never failed to find ways to make you smile with corny jokes or embarrassing stories. Like that time he nearly burnt the dorm down trying to boil an egg (the reason why he’s banned from the kitchen and why Suguru is in charge of cooking meals).

Meanwhile, the raven haired male was the most level headed between you three. Every move and action he made was always thought through carefully. Although he didn’t necessarily encourage Satoru’s endless shenanigans (and by default yours as well as his), Suguru never hesitated to come to the rescue for you both. Life as a sorcerer didn’t seem so bad anymore if it meant having these two by your side.

Until you didn’t.

“Toru, let’s get dinner with Suguru!”

“Sorry sweets, I have a mission right after this but I’m all yours next time!”

“Hey man, are you still down for hanging at (y/n)’s dorm later?”

“Can’t. They’re sending me off to deal with this one curse they couldn’t handle. Luckily they have the strongest to handle it!”

The stronger Satoru became over the years, the more he went solo on missions, and the less time you found yourself seeing him. Instead of taking on missions as a trio, you found yourself more often going with just Suguru. Having him by your side made it a little easier, but you had to admit that you were missing Satoru’s presence. You could tell it was affecting Suguru too based on how quiet and reserved he was becoming.

“Toru?” you called, phone pressed to your ear. “Where are you? You were supposed to get back from your mission half an hour ago. The food is getting cold.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to make it. This curse is taking longer to exorcise than expected. I’ll join you guys next time,” Satoru sighed over the call. He was on guard and in the middle of tracking down this special grade curse when you had called. But he never hesitated to drop everything for you even if he was in the middle of a dangerous mission.

“You said that last time…”

Satoru swore he felt his heart break listening to the disappointment in your voice. Guilt settled into his chest as he ran a tired hand through his snowy locks with a frown. If it were up to him, he’d abandon his mission in a heartbeat to be by your side but he knew he couldn’t. It killed him to know he was making you sad because you didn’t deserve that.

“I know. I’m sorry, sweets. I promise I’ll make it up to you and treat you to the best dinner you’ll ever have later. Say hi to Suguru for me, okay?” he responded softly, doing his best to soften the hurt you were feeling.

With a hum, you tried your best to sound happy over the phone. “I will. Just… come back safe, okay?”

“Always,” Satoru promised. With much restraint, he forced himself to hang up the phone.

With that, your arm fell limply at your side with your phone clenched tightly in your hand. Suguru watched the forced smile fall from your face, the disappointment evident as clear as day as you fell into a daze. Without you even saying anything, he knew his best friend had once again canceled plans. He knew that Satoru didn’t have a choice in the matter but it was still heartbreaking to see the effects that it had on you.

Suguru wasn’t blind. He suspected that your feelings for Satoru extended far beyond friendship, which made his own feelings for you that much worse knowing you were possibly in love with his best friend and not him.

You barely processed the way Suguru softly called out to you, only jumping in surprise when he placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Sorry, Sugu. I didn’t even see you walk over to me. Toru says hi,” you offered a small apologetic smile to the tall man who only smiled reassuringly to you.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry for scaring you. I take it that lunch will just be us?” he hummed, feeling his heart clench at your weak nod.

With a deep sigh, he opened his arms. “C’mere.”

Without a second to spare, you immediately wrapped your arms around him and buried your face into his sturdy chest. His cologne always had a way of grounding you, the scent of sandalwood and bergamot filling your senses. You didn’t realize how tense you were until you felt your body melt into his embrace. Suguru wrapped an arm around your middle and placed a gentle hand behind your head holding you close.

“You know he would be here if he could,” he consoled.

“I know. I just miss him a lot. It’s been so long since we last saw him since he’s constantly away on missions,” you mumbled against his chest.

“At least I’m here, right? Unless you hate my company,” he lightly joked in an attempt to make you feel better.

It seemed to have worked because you leaned back in his embrace with a chuckle and looked up with those kind eyes of yours. God, he loved your eyes. “I could never hate you, Sugu.”

Feeling his heart race with your words, Suguru gently patted the top of your head with a chuckle, “Good girl.”

You felt extremely lucky to have Suguru by your side. It seemed like he always knew the right words to say. You took a moment to take in his face and your expression immediately fell.

Amongst your sadness, you failed to realize how exhausted he looked. Hues of purple and blue lingered below his eyes like he didn’t sleep in days. He had some new scratches on his face, probably from the many missions he had taken on this week alone. His eyes, although warm at you, looked distant as if he wasn’t completely here. He had also lost a considerable amount of weight.

How selfish of you to see that you weren’t the only one struggling. You knew Riko’s and Haibara’s death greatly affected Suguru and you tried your best to support him. Perhaps you weren't trying hard enough.

“When was the last time you slept?” you frowned, brushing your fingers to gently grace over his eyebags.

Suguru felt his heart quicken at your touch, feeling his neck begin to warm. Coughing to clear his throat, he reached up to remove your hand from his face and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I slept last night.”

“For how long?” you pressed.

He gave a nonchalant shrug, holding his chin in pretend thought. “A few hours maybe.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line. You knew he was lying to probably make you feel better but it only worsened your worries. Huffing, you grabbed his hand and dragged him over to your bed before forcing him to lay down. You went to pack up the unforgotten lunch, neither of you having much of an appetite anymore.

“Sleep,” you ordered, peering over your shoulder at him with hands on your hips like a mother scolding her child. “Take a nap. I’ll wake you up later before we head out.”

“Only if you nap with me.”

Turning to look at the dark haired sorcerer in shock, he only smirked back in response as he laid on his back with one hand behind his head and the other extended to you in invitation.

You bit your lip. Was it appropriate to lie in bed with him, your best friend? You, Satoru and Suguru have had sleepovers before but they always insisted on you having the bed while they slept on the floor (although that didn’t stop Satoru from trying to share the bed with you anyway which usually ended with Suguru dragging his ass down).

Looking at Suguru, you knew he would never do anything to make you uncomfortable. Feeling the dull ache in your bones and your tired muscles weighing you down, your body moved on its own before gingerly laying next to him, your arms pressed firmly against your chest as you laid a few inches away from him to give him space.

Letting out an exaggerated yawn, Suguru suddenly pulled you tightly against him as you let out a small yelp in surprise. He placed a kiss on the top of your head, setting his chin on top before closing his eyes in content.

You felt your heart race at his actions, a gesture you were used to from him but suddenly felt much more intimate in this position. Taking a deep breath, you tried your best to focus on the steady rhythm of his heartbeat to calm the erratic pace of yours.

As a calm comfortable silence eventually ensued between you both, you found your thoughts drifting off to Satoru again. He had been gone for at least five days on this current mission. Was he eating well? Was he getting enough sleep? What if he was hurt? What if something happened and he needed help?

But you knew Satoru was too prideful to ask for help, insisting that he was the strongest and didn’t need anyone. It was true. He wasn’t called the strongest jujutsu sorcerer in the modern age for nothing. However, you refused to let him take on the world alone because… your world was better with him in it.

“Suguru…” you called out quietly in case he was already asleep.

“What is it, pretty?” he hummed in response. He hadn’t fallen asleep yet.

“Do you ever get tired of being a sorcerer?”

Slowly opening his eyes, Suguru shifted so that he was laying directly next to you. Now at eye level with you, he saw just how drained you were. The sparkle that usually glimmered brightly in your eyes had now reduced to a dull flicker. He hadn’t expect you to ask that question so out of the blue. Mentally, for some time he struggled with where his beliefs stood. What did it mean to be a sorcerer and most importantly, why?

“Because I do.”

It took a few seconds for him to register the words that left your mouth. He watched as you tried to blink away tears, your small hands clenching the front of his shirt within your fists as you looked away shamefully.

“I miss how we used to be back when I first came to Jujutsu High, before we got so busy. I miss when you, Satoru and I would sneak out the dorms to get that kikufuku that he likes. I miss going to that cute cat cafe in Tokyo, the one where the kittens love swatting at your hair. I miss going to the night markets and eating until we nearly pass out into food comas.”

“I know that it’s my moral duty to protect non-sorcerers. That’s why jujutsu sorcerers like us exist. But Sugu, it’s so hard. Everyday I feel like I’m losing myself because it's a constant cycle of wake up, train, exorcise, sleep and repeat. I know I don’t have to worry about Satoru because he can hold his own so I try my best to be strong. For him, for you, and for me. I have to be strong but how strong do I have to be before I can finally breathe?”

By the end of your vent, you didn’t realize you were crying. Watching you in so much distress made Suguru’s chest twist. He desperately wished he could take away all of your pain and worries. Pulling your head back into his chest, he let you fall apart in his arms, whispering sweet nothings and comforting words into your ear as your body shook with the intensity of your sobs. After some time, your crying dwindled down to soft little sniffles.

“Run away with me.”

Silence. Suguru felt you stiffen at his words and watched as your eyes morphed into confusion. Your grip on his shirt loosened as you tried to process if you had heard him right. Staring into his brown eyes with not an ounce of a smile on his lips, you realized he was dead serious.

“Suguru, you’re joking, right?” you stuttered in disbelief.

“Does it look like I’m joking?” he replied, brushing the hair away from your eyes that was still damp from your previous tears.

“Hear me out. What if we could create a world where there were no more cursed spirits? No more having to put your life on the line for weak humans who spend every minute of their lives in ignorant bliss while you shed blood, sweat and tears daily for the sake of their so-called humanity.”

Your eyebrows furrowed at the somber tone the conversation took on. You frowned, “How exactly do we plan to do that? Is a world like that even possible?”

“I believe it is. My only wish is that you just trust me. Come with me,” he pleaded.

Suguru placed his large hand over your two small ones that still rested on his chest and gave them a small squeeze. He watched the various emotions run through your face as your eyes tormented over his request. He wasn’t completely sure if you’d give in to him but he’ll be damned if he didn’t at least try.

You didn’t know how to feel. Suguru was basically throwing you a lifeline to start over fresh and build a new life, a happier and free one. But you also knew it’d be dangerous. The moment you both disappear, you knew they’d send people out to find you both at all costs. You would have to leave everything and everyone you know behind. Everyone… including Satoru.

As if reading your thoughts, Suguru felt a pang of jealousy hit him. Even now, your thoughts were preoccupied on someone else instead of the man before you who would give his life for you. He knew you were thinking of his best friend, Gojo Satoru, the only other person in this world that understood him best other than you. But this was the one thing that he knew Satoru wouldn’t understand.

“I know you’re worried about him. Think of it this way. If we go, you’ll be able to protect him and ease his burden as the strongest sorcerer. He’ll be able to live the free life he deserves,” he coaxed you. “Isn’t that what you want?”

You thought over his words carefully before responding with hesitance.

“Of course that’s what I want. But Suguru, you’re asking for a whole lot and betting our lives on ‘what if’s. How long have you been thinking about this?” you questioned, your voice laden in deep concern.

“A while now,” he sighed, unable to meet your gaze for a minute before softening his eyes back at you.

“You don’t have to give me an answer now. I’ll respect any decision you make no matter what. For now, sleep on it and we can talk more about it after this mission to whatever village they’re sending us to tonight.”

Thoughts still heavily weighing on your mind, you relented. “...Okay.”

…

Nothing could have prepared Satoru for the words that left Yaga’s mouth the next day.

“112 killed by a cursed spirit revealed to be the work of Geto Suguru’s curse manipulation. Geto Suguru is hereby sentenced to death. (l/n) (y/n) has been deemed an accomplice in the crime and hereby also sentenced to death.”

divider credit: @/saradika-graphics

774 notes · View notes

heytheredelulu · 7 months ago

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Marvel Fanfiction Masterlist

Imagines

Bucky Barnes x Reader 💙

Little Devil 🌶️

You’re tempting him to sin.

Ruin Me 🌶️

Say less.

Bucky @ Ulta 🌶️✨

You dragged him with you.

Five Senses ❤️‍🩹✨

You walk him through the grounding method.

I Gotta Take This 🌶️

Bucky wants to make an excuse to slip out of the mission briefing.

Simple

Bucky Barnes enjoys the simple things in life.

To Have and to Hold and to Fuck Whenever I Want

You really think a little bit of blood is going to keep your husband from having you?

Steve Rogers x Reader ❤️

Like Sin 🌶️❤️‍🩹

Your possessive boyfriend accuses you of cheating on him with his best friend- and you decide to rile him up.

Loki x Reader 💚

Yearn for You 🌶️✨

You’ve been friends since childhood, after all this time could he truly feel nothing for you?

Winter Rose Drabbles

The Winter Rose, an ex HYDRA assassin trauma bonded with Bucky Barnes in the aftermath of their deconditioning. They’re walking the fine line of love and friendship and both of them are too afraid to cross it.

Bucky Barnes x Winter Rose 🥀

Wounds ❤️‍🩹✨

Wash Over Me ✨

Fuck the Line 🌶️❤️‍🩹

One Shots

Bucky Barnes x Reader 💙

Temptation ❤️‍🔥

You text your boyfriend a nude selfie while he’s working and now he can’t stop thinking about it.

Good Girl ❤️‍🔥

So close you could taste it- but only if you begged him well enough.

Wants and Needs ❤️‍🔥

You come home late from girls night knowing Bucky will still be up. You want need him and you’re finally going to let him know.

Little Bookworm ❤️‍🔥

Your boyfriend can’t think of anything more adorable than watching you read. One night while you’re in the shower he picks up the book you left on the nightstand: “Haunting Adeline by H.D. Carlton” and thumbs through it, very quickly realizing just what kind of books his sweet little bookworm is really into.

Watch Me ❤️‍🔥

Anon request: “could you do something enemies/rivals where bucky accidentally finds out that you have a mirror kink during a training session?”

Unbreakable ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🔥

You’ve always wanted to be a mother but your husband is too tormented by his past to believe he could ever be a good father. For so long you’ve accepted that it will never be in the cards for you- after all, it’s only a small price to pay to continue to live the life you’ve built with the man you love. But what happens when you finally admit that you want what he refuses to give you? Will you push him away with your confession or will you finally make him realize that he’s not the man he believes himself to be?

Unbreakable- The After Years ✨🌶️

The conclusion to your story.

Stucky x Reader 💙❤️

Untitled - In progress ❤️‍🔥

Multipart fics

Bucky Barnes x Reader 💙

Ready to Comply Part One ❤️‍🔥

Tony Stark's shy, curvy intern finds herself fighting for her life when the quiet and reserved ex-assassin she's been pining after for nearly a year has been activated by HYDRA and given the order to kill her to prevent the completion of the new tech she's been developing alongside Tony Stark and Stark Industries.

Ready to Comply Part Two ❤️‍🔥

The second installment of Ready to Comply.

Ready to Comply Part Three - In progress ❤️‍🔥

Teaser

Current Taglist (Taglist is open):

@littleone2001 @suz7days @truthfulliarr @lilacka @writtingrose @samsgoddess @loveisallyouneed1125 @vicmc624 @millercontracting @wildernessflora @mydorkyboys @blackhawkfanatic @honestlywork @ladyvenera @cavity-exe @ihavetwoholesforareason @km-ffluv @shortnloud @mrs-katelyn-barnes @somnorvos @22rhianna2006 @fanfictionreaderfan @misshale21 @angelbaby99 @deans-spinster-witch @kezibear @acornacreacure @wintrsoldrluvr @terry2227

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lizardboiii · 6 months ago

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At The Tone ┃ DCU

Barry Allen x Spider-Woman!Reader

┃ Summary: Sometimes bad things happen to good people - and that’s where the Justice League comes in. Too bad you weren’t interested.

“Think I forgot how to be happy Something I'm not, but something I can be" Billie Eilish, "What Was I Made For?"

│cw: SFW, alcohol abuse, unhealthy coping mechanisms, grief, hurt/comfort, violent themes

│wc: 3.9k

│chapters: One shot

│notes: This fic has been sitting unfinished (with 2k words!!) in my drafts for a WHILE. randomly decided it needed to see the light of day ig. was gonna make it nsfw but i low key hate it and just wanted too move on oops. enjoy <3

・❥・

│One Shot: At The Tone

You have five new messages.

“Good afternoon, Spider-Woman this is Cla-”

You heard a throat clear.

“It’s Superman. I see you still aren’t picking up any of the team’s calls,” He swallowed thickly, “I understand your recent loss was… hard. Something none of us would have wished for anybody.”

You could feel the tension in his voice.

“Please take all the time you need. The league is more than capable of taking care of New York in your absence for the time being.”

The sound of a pen clicking disrupted the message every so often, “But at least give us some indication you're alive…and well. The team cares about you,” He chuckled warmly, “Even “Mr. I Work Alone” Batman himself.”

His laugh dropped abruptly with a soft sigh, “Call me back when you can.”

Beep

You crawled out of bed slowly, dragging your duvet behind you like a cloak. The plush cotton laid heavy on your shoulders. You wondered if this was how Big Blue felt every morning - the weight of knowing everything depending on him once he bore his iconic red cape.

You knew what that weight felt like, and you knew what it felt like to have it all come crashing down.

You have four new messages

“How’s it hanging, Spidy? Haha, you get it?” A dramatic sigh escaped the machine, “Sorry, poor timing.”

He took a moment to regroup, “It's Green Lantern, just calling to check in. Headquarters has been depressing without you. I mean even Martian Manhunter is down in the dumps. It's a total bummer.”

Another sigh, “Listen you don't have to call me back if you don’t want to, but at least let Flash know you're still alive. He needs you more than he lets on.”

Beep

You groaned at the shrill ring of the answering machine. The outdated tech was too cherished to be discarded but the pulsing headaches you received from it almost outweighed the fond memories of Aunt May.

Thoroughly woken up, you entered your kitchenette. Your eyes shifted between the week old coffee pot on your stove to the half empty Hennessy bottle next to it.

Maybe this time you would make the right choice. A sober evening is a good evening. However, the battle was always rigged to begin with and the winner already predetermined.

The Hennessy felt burdensome in your hand as you took a long swig. It burned violently down your throat, eating at your skin, before finally settling warmly in your stomach. Though you hated to admit it, it satisfied you more than any pot of coffee could.

Staggering to your couch, courtesy of one of New York’s finest sidewalks, you flopped down. The cushions were well used and musty. But who were you to pass up a free couch?

You have three new messages

“Spider-Woman.”

There was a lengthy pause.

“Your recent inactivity has caused some concerns regarding your whereabouts. The league seems to be having a hard time focusing on missions with your absence.”

Bats’ uncertainty leaked through the phone as he thought of his next sentence, “You have my condolences, Webs. However, the league cannot continue to work with this distraction. Please report to the Hall of Justice immediately.”

He hesitated, “We are worried.”

Beep

An involuntary snort escaped you. Bats’ attempt at comfort was interesting to say the least. He was surprisingly awkward for a leader of the Justice League. Though you supposed dark and brooding was his brand.

You have two new message

“Greetings, Spider-Woman, Wonder Woman speaking.”

You could hear muffled arguing in the background.

“Batman may have been a bit…straightforward in that last voicemail,” She attempted a fake laugh, “Please do not mind his bluntness, he is merely just as concerned as the rest of us. In his own way at least.”

A loud slam made her curse under her breath.

“I apologize I must go, the “children” are fighting again. Don’t hesitate to call back. See you soon, Webs.”

Beep

Lifting the liquor to your lips, your brows creased when only a drop hit your tongue. Out already?

You let out an exaggerated sigh before placing the empty bottle on your coffee table. A quick glance at your barren pantry told you everything you needed to know. You’d have to go out and get some more. You felt your face scrunch. That means you have to go out in public.

You weighed your options.

You could stay inside and continue to peacefully hide from the world, but you're guaranteed to sober up eventually.

Or you could make a quick trip to the convenience store down the road and pray the minimum wage employee can’t smell the alcohol on you from a mile away.

You hummed thoughtfully. Though, now that you think about it, there’s a off chance you might run into the supe that’s covering your city for the time being. Then again, there’s a very high chance it’s not someone from the Justice League, a member from The Team at best.

Massaging your forehead, you tried to remember the last time a Justice League member took a leave of absence. A blonde goatee flashed in your mind.

That’s right. Green Arrow was out for a while when he got busted up pretty bad. His protégé, Speedy, ended up babysitting Star City in his absence. You bit your lip.

But you didn’t have one of those anymore.

You have one new message

“Hey Webs! Sent me to voicemail again, huh?”

An awkward laugh made the machine crackle.

“Just calling to check up on you. How are you doing? Feeling alright? Just say the word and I can grab you anything from anywhere. I mean literally anywhere. They don’t call me the fastest man alive for nothing!”

You could practically hear the large smile embedded on his face.

A large sigh passed through the speaker, “It’s been a month now. The team misses you…I miss you. A lot actually.”

He paused.

“Just call me back alright? I need to know if you're okay.”

Beep

Your hand paused over your front door handle. Flash’s deep voice was like a siren's call, beckoning you in.

What you’d give to turn around. What you'd do to call him back. It took everything in you to force yourself away from his voice.

Your best friend.

Your confidant.

Your everything.

You have zero new messages

・❥・

You weaved through the bustling sidewalk with a slight wobble, managing to dodge a third of the people you almost crashed into. Night was quickly approaching. That meant the streets were only going to get busier.

More people = More crime = More superheroes.

Fumbling into a dimly lit alley, you avoided Main Street completely. It was too risky. Even in your civilian disguise there was no guarantee your voice wouldn’t be recognized - mainly by your teammates but especially by… Flash.

You recalled how often you sought each other out in the Hall of Justice. Whether it was meddling in the business of others, or simply enjoying the company of one another.

His hand always seemed to find its way to the small of your back. Gently resting. While his thumb delicately circled the thin fabric of your suit.

He leaned in closer than he should. The dull smell of his cologne inevitably picked up by your heightened senses.

It wasn't how friends should behave - but that's all you ever were. Friends.

Thwack!

You slammed yourself against one of the side walls in surprise, extinguishing your mind of complex thoughts. Creeping closer, you cursed in your head when harsh thumps and muffled grunting filled the air.

“Where’s my money, Huey?”

Crack!

“I-I don’t know! Please!”

Whack!

You recognized the tell-tale sound of blood splattering against the ground, akin to paint splashing. The sound made you nauseous. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you thought of your next move.

Now, on any normal occasion you’d swing in all heroic and save the day. But today was different. You were different.

Excuses flooded your brain as you tried to explain to yourself why you felt little desire to help the abused man.

Your suit was at home crammed somewhere in between an ugly Christmas sweater and a latex bodysuit you practically begged Cat Woman not to give you.

Even if you had the energy, you were still considered MIA to the league. You’d basically be spoon feeding them your location.

Your internal dilemma didn’t last long as the pummeling swiftly came to an end. Peaking around the corner, you watched the assistants retreat into an adjacent alley. They moved lazily. Clearly they didn’t expect to be caught.

You could still catch them.

You found yourself making an internal description. Two Caucasian males both wearing black beanies and disgustingly outdated puffer jackets. The taller one sported purple and green. While the shorter preferred yellow.

Your foot shifted before you felt yourself hesitate. Maybe you shouldn’t. They’d probably be caught soon enough anyways.

If anything, the supe covering your city would swoop in and haul their asses to the local jail. Especially when you called an ambulance for the man who was passed out on the ground. It would put this area on tonight's map. You sighed and finally allowed yourself to relax.

This was fine.

Everything was fine.

Shifting your eyes to the ground, you located the poor soul who suffered the attack. His breathing was ragged and wet. You were quick to put two fingers on his neck, checking for a pulse. A wave of relief crashed through you when you felt a steady beating.

Pulling out your phone, you immediately dialed 911 and requested an ambulance, anonymously of course. You stayed with the man until you could hear loud sirens growing closer. Your sign to leave.

Exiting the alleyway, you reached the small convenience store in record time. The adrenaline in your system was starting to make quick work of the alcohol in your bloodstream.

You could feel your senses beginning to come back. Eyes clearer. Ears sharper. You could practically hear the heartbeats of everyone in the store.

Groaning at your misfortune, you beelined for the alcohol section in the back. My god was it beautiful. Itching to return home, you grabbed a random bottle that had the highest percentage. Taste didn’t matter. Only the effect.

Glancing at your selection you choked on your own spit. 30 dollars?? The glass bottle was swiftly put back as you grabbed the cheapest one you could find. Tucking the Shitty K under your arm, you turned to walk to the register.

“PUT YOUR FUCKING HANDS UP, OLD MAN.”

You froze. Extending your neck out, you caught a glimpse of the register.

Purple, green, and yellow.

You had to be fucking kidding.

You watched as the two assailants from the alley held the elderly cashier at gunpoint. His form shook like a leaf.

“Please! Just take the money and leave!”

You caught his eyes as he begged for his life. Tear filled and shaking. You could have prevented this. If you would have just stopped them when you had the chance none of this would have happened.

You could have saved the man in the alley. Saved the poor cashier.

You could have saved Uncle Ben too.

Your eyes watered. Fucking pathetic mistake. What the hell were you doing? You weren’t a teenager anymore. You were a grown adult who should have learned from your mistakes by now.

Shifting your eyes from the vodka to him, you pressed your lips in a thin line. You didn’t know what hurt more. The fact that you were repeating past mistakes or the fact that you wanted to take the more expensive alcohol and leave unnoticed.

When did you become this?

No wonder you let Spider-Girl die.

You needed a drink. Desperately.

Abruptly, a whiplash of red and yellow snatched you from your daydream. The streaking shape blew over the newspaper stand before spinning around the starstruck perpetrators. You knew those McDonald's colors from anywhere.

Kid Flash.

Like any speedster, he removed the gun in milliseconds before tying up the confused robbers. They stood no chance against the meta-human.

Dusting off his hands, Kid Flash smiled smugly at the dumbfounded duo, “Guns aren’t currency, you know?”

The man in yellow thrashed violently, “What the hell-Kid Flash!? Why are you in New York? Spidey taking a break or something?”

You cringed.

Kid Flash’s boyish voice laughed awkwardly, “Something like that.”

You need to get out of here. Now.

Slowly backing into the aisle, you clenched your teeth when your elbow hit the shelf. The bottles tinked in a symphony, altering everyone in the store of your presence. Fan-fucking-tastic.

Instantly, you snatched your coat hood and covered your face and hair. Staring into the grime covered tiles, you prayed Kid Flash wouldn’t think too much of it.

“Hello?”

Of course. The one time he’s actually thorough.

“Are you alright?”

Bright yellow boots came into your vision as you tried to conceal yourself further. You hunched into yourself with clenched fists. Mistaking your actions for something else, Kid Flash placed a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, hey it’s okay! You don’t have to be sacred!”

You bite into your lip eager to escape the conversation, “I’m not. Please let go.”

Kid Flash laughed, sounding a little too similar to Flash in your opinion. Removing his hand from your shoulder, he stood next to you with his hands on his hips.

“Then why are you hiding?” A red glove entered your vision. It was headed straight for your hood.

You slapped his hand away, “Didn’t your parents tell you not to talk to strangers.”

He shrugged, “That rule doesn’t really apply to superheroes.”

You couldn’t contain the breathy laugh that left your throat. You hate to admit it but you actually really missed the kid.

However, you failed to realize your mistake. If anyone knew your laugh it was Kid Flash. You spent way too much time around him and Flash for him not too.

There was a long pause.

“…Webs?”

You flinched hard, “Wrong person.” You internally cursed at yourself for the obvious slur in your voice.

“Are you drunk?”

“…No.”

His hand grabbed your upper arm tightly, “Where have you been? Are you okay?”

You gently pulled against his hold, attempting to break free without force, “I’m fine.”

“No you aren’t,” Kid Flash raised his hand to his ear piece, “Just let me notify Flash-”

“NO!”

Your arm flew up to the communicator without thought. Taking advantage of his surprise, you were able to snatch the high tech earpiece from his loosen grip.

“Hey!”

Kid Flash grabbed at you. His lanky limbs attempting to reclaim his lost device, “Let go!”

“You let go!” You shoved his face away with the palm of your hand.

Kid Flash merely continued to grab at the air around you, “Never!”

If this was any other situation you would have laughed. The pair of you looked like children fighting over the last dessert.

However, this wasn't just any situation. This situation involved Flash.

“Listen to your elders you brat!” Finally, after a well fought struggle, you managed to hold the device out of arm's reach. A much needed success after the month you've had-

“Webs?”

You halted in your tracks.

The small communicator in your hand blinked on and off, identifying an unstable signal.

“Webs is that you?” Flash was urgent, “Wait there! I'm coming-”

You crushed the device in your hand. Terrified.

Small fragments engraved themselves into your skin, dotting your hand red. What have you done?

“Batman’s gonna kill you for that, you know?” Kid Flash laughed in an attempt to lighten the mood.

You frowned, uninterested in entertaining him. Kid Flash merely smiled awkwardly. It was evident the boy was taken aback by your unusually serious demeanor.

The thought didn't take up much space in your mind. You could only think of one thing. When would Flash decide to appear out of thin air?

As if conjuring the hero, a red bolt flew through the mostly empty convenience store. The glass doors shook from the force. While newspapers scattered through the air, Vogue landed atop the cashier's head.

Though he moved faster than the speed of light, he stood before you still. Unmoving. It was as if you might fade away if he got too close.

“Webs,” His voice was laced with reverence.

Your mouth went dry, “Flash.”

The tension between the two of you was thick enough to cut with a knife, suffocating you. Maybe this was how Flash planned to get back at you for ignoring him. Slowly killing you with hypoxia. A metaphorical death pertaining to how he felt during your absence.

“Woah, this just got really awkward.”

Kid Flash’s voice suddenly reminded you of his presence. He swayed uncomfortably. Trapped between you and Flash.

The younger male pointed his thumbs at the door, “Should I leave…or?”

“Yes.”

Startled at your synchronous voices, Kid Flash quickly shuffled toward the door, “Alright. See you later?”

Flash nodded his head in response, ushering his protégé away. Kid Flash couldn't leave fast enough. Magazines, once again disturbed, twirled around the ground from where he left.

You stared at the loose paper. Preferring the sight of perfume ads then whatever expression Flash held. From the corner of your eye you should see him shift. He moved with unease. Your mouth curled slightly. He never was able to stop moving for long.

“Webs, I-”

You cut him off, “I’m sorry.”

Flash furrowed his brows in confusion, “You don’t need to apologize. It's not your fault.”

“But it is,” You clenched your teeth in frustration, “It's always been my fault.”

The taller male crossed the space between you hesitantly. You flinched when he placed his large hands on your shoulders, completely engulfing them.

“It wasn't your fault, Webs. Nobody could have known.”

“I could have saved her,” you finally met his gaze, “I was right there.”

You saw his eyes widen slightly, clearly used to your masked form more than your real face.

Your name spilled from his lips.

Not just Webs - your name.

You took a shaky breath, “Barry.”

The name was foreign on your tongue. You had tried to keep your personal life separate from hero work. Though that only lasted a year. Barry managed to weasel his way into your home life before you knew it.

You wouldn't have it any other way.

Barry’s hands slid from your shoulders down to your hands, caressing them softly. “Believe me when I say this,” He took a deep breath, “I’ve been in your position before. We all have.”

Breaking eye contact, your stare bore into the wall of cheap booze, “I know.”

“And I know,” He cupped your cheek, “That drinking away your problems won’t help. It only makes it worse.”

You bit your lip, “I just want to forget.”

“I know. God, I know. I want to go back and change that day every time I open my eyes,” He placed his head in the crook of your neck, “But I've been down that road before. And it's not sustainable.”

Your eyes felt hot, your throat dry, “I don’t know what to do.”

Barry pulled your smaller frame into his arms, “No one does.”

You sunk into his embrace, inhaling his scent.

“Let me take you home, Webs.”

“Okay.”

・❥・

You held tightly onto Barry, arms circling his neck, as he brought you home. You had barely enough time to blink before you were standing in front of your apartment’s door.

Barry hesitantly let you down from his hold. Though his arm stayed wrapped around your waist for support. You gave him a gentle smile as a thank you.

Unlocking your door, you were immediately reminded of the state of your apartment. Dirty laundry and loose items scattered the floor.

Shame crept up your neck. The uncaring attitude towards your humble abode seemingly disappeared.

Barry entered slowly, taking in the messy state. His eyes were quickly drawn to the empty bottles strewn about your floor. Unsurprisingly, he began to pick one up. Then another. And another. You snapped when he started to replace your trash bag.

“Barry.”

His head whipped toward you, only focusing on you.

“That's enough,” You tried grabbing the bag from him, “You don’t need to.”

Barry held onto the plastic tightly, “I want to.”

You shook your head, “It's my mess. Leave it.”

“No.”

You jolted in surprise at his commanding tone, “Why?”

He tossed the bag to the side, “Why?”

Laughing dryly, he shook his head, “Why not? Why wouldn't I take care of you?”

You averted your gaze, “I don’t need you to take care of me.”

“But you do,” his voice was imbued with desperation, “If you didn’t, I wouldn't have spent a month doing everything in my power to find you!”

Your face felt hot, “I didn't ask you too!”

Barry closed in the space between you, “You didn't have too!”

You weren't sure when the tears began to pour down your cheeks, “I never wanted you too! I just want to be alone! Why can’t you let me be?”

“Because I can't let you be!” Barry’s hand slammed down on your tiny island counter, “You're all I think about! From the moment I wake up to the time I go to sleep, all I know is you. I would rather you hate me for the rest of my life just to see you for a moment than ever ignore you.”

You felt like a deer in headlights, “What?”

“That day when Spider-Girl died,” He gripped the counter, slightly cracking it under the force, “I felt like I lost a piece of you too. And I could bear it.”

You felt like you lost your breath when Barry met your gaze again. His eyes were laced with anguish. Bloodshot rims already forming.

“I know you're hurting. I know what I am experiencing is nothing compared to what you are going through,” He searched your eyes, “But I'm in love with you! And I have been for as long as I can remember.”

The start of a cry made his voice waver, “And this is definitely poor timing for a confession, but I can’t lose you-”

You weren't exactly sure which one of your muscles was still intact enough for you to move. However, the feeling of plush lips against your own thwarted any other thought.

Barry stood rigid for a moment. Hands clenched at his sides. Then, he dominated the kiss like his life depended on it. His hands held onto your waist tightly, before slowly making their way to your face. You couldn't remember the last time you felt this happy.

Pulling away, you took shallow breaths, “I love you.”

Barry smiled and swiped a loose teardrop from your cheek, “I love you too.”

The warm moment didn't last long. Your mind was quick to remind you that there was a reason Barry had to confess in a messy studio apartment rather than someplace special. That reason was because you were broken.

You pressed you mouth into a thin line, “Do you still want me even if-”

“I want you no matter what,” Barry didn’t allow you to get another word in, “We can go through this together.”

He placed a soft kiss on your forehead, “You're not alone, Webs. You never were.”

You swallowed hard, “Together?”

"Together."

・❥・

#dcu x reader #dcu x mcu #dc universe #justice league #barry allen x reader #barry allen #wally west #the flash #flash x reader #kid flash #young justice #dealing with grief #grieving #unhealthy coping mechanisms #hurt/comfort

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labooza · 2 months ago

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Sub! Caitlin Clark Headcanons

Some SFW some NSFW

caitlin clark x reader

NSFW past the mark

SFW:

•after a rough game when all of the adrenaline went down she will just slump into your arms

•loves loves loves to be shown off especially on social media

•always has to be reminded before games to chill on the techs (clearly it isn’t working)

•loves it when her girl makes her an iced coffee or something in the morning

•favorite post-game activity is just cuddling with her gf and watching a stupid movie

•even tho she’s super tall when her gf picks her up and like spins her caitlin finds it to be the best (and funniest) thing ever

•defo a netflix and spooning type girl (she’s a little spoon idc)

•when her gf reminds her how pretty she is and how special and talented she is she instantly folds.

•sometimes she just needs to have a night where she can just be soft and vulnerable and just chill for one day

NSFW:

•caitlin’s a kinky little bitch, tell me otherwise

•she expects to be a pillow princess every time and when she has to do something during sex she always bitches about it

•can take 3 fingers like it’s nothing

•caitlin always tries to be quiet even when there’s no need

•LOVES a good quickie

•overstimulation is HER THING. loves the feeling of being overwhelmed and like she’s always on the brink of breaking

•when she’s playing at away games she will send videos of her masturbating and saying something like “so fucking soaked…. wish these fingers were yours”

•when it’s a real crazy night she’s so very intro degradation

•scissoring GOD.

#caitlin clark #caitlin clark smut #caitlin clark x reader

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c0smiclatt3 · 3 months ago

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SATORU GOJO: i need you (like i need a broken leg!)

after you started securing your role as a healer at jujutsu tech, satoru quickly learned that the surefire way to get close to you was to conveniently 'get injured'. (wc: 1k)

☾₊ ⊹ TAGS: fluff!, sfw, satoru is just an attention seeker, descriptions of blood and injuries, x reader

Of all people, Satoru Gojo has no reason to be coming to the infirmary. He is completely capable of avoiding any and all injuries on his missions and is, for all intents and purposes, untouchable. Invincible. He was the strongest after all, wasn't he?

And yet once you started displaying an affinity for complex RCT and dedicating your time working in the infirmary, he'd mysteriously return from missions with angry gashes along his back, scrapes along his forearms, and bruises down his legs, moaning and whining like a baby as he hobbles into the infirmary like a wounded animal.

"Fuuuuuck, he'd groan, dragging his feet on the tile as you look up, unamused, from your seat by the window, "that huuuuurt..."

Admittedly, the first few times this happened you immediately rushed to his side. What in the world could possibly be so strong as to overpower the Satoru Gojo?

That first time had been a complete accident, back when you both were just teenagers. You began your apprenticeship as a healer and dedicated less time to being deployed on missions, more time in the infirmary. And as strong as he was, Satoru was still a sixteen year-old, and had yet to perfect his technique (and his attention span), which earned him a clean slash to the chest and a blast out from under his feet, sending him rolling down the concrete.

He had stumbled in the infirmary, weakly raising his hand to knock on the doorframe to get your attention. "... Yo." That's when you saw the blood on his chest.

Your mouth fell open. You virtually shoved him straight into the infirmary bed.

"Calm down woman, it's just a scratch-"

"Oh my god -" your hand lightly dabbed the blooming wound through his jacket, "oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," you muttered under your breath. Hovering your hand over the wound you focused your energy to the source of the bleeding, your brows knitting together and lips pulled in a tight line.

"Damn it," you hiss, "I can't penetrate the fabric," you reach for the buttons of his jacket, tugging it open, hands so jittery you virtually tore the thing right off. He flashes a wolfish grin.

"Heh, at least take me out to dinner first."

"Can you shut up?!" you snap, exasperated. "Be serious, Satoru, you're hurt!"

You set your hands on his chest, solid and firm under your trembling. You tried to focus on the wound, but seeing the blood blossom from his chest -from Satoru's chest - made you queasy and terrified.

You were all sorcerers here, but your early years of sparring were small potatoes compared to the proper missions Yaga was sending the team out on now. In all fairness today's curse was a little bit above the team's pay grade, but Satoru knew he'd be just fine, anyway. Whether or not you believed that was another story.

Satoru watched your eyes flit from his chest, to his scratched arms, to his bruised abdomen, and your eyes were wild, frenzied, as if completely overwhelmed by the sheer extent of what you were seeing on a body you never imagined could even be touched. You grit your teeth. "Damn it," you hiss. You squeeze your eyes shut, shaking your head. "Damn it, Satoru."

Satoru blinked, his expression softening while he watched you, lips parting. You usually hated his guts. This was quite a change of pace for you two.

He could get used to this.

And so since then the visits became more frequent. An odd scratch or bruise on his arm or leg. A slash on his shoulder. Scraped knees. And since they became more frequent you realized... That little shit is doing this on purpose.

So now when he walked into the infirmary, bitching and moaning about some painful wound he'd picked up on today's mission, you barely even looked up from your phone as he slumped into the infirmary bed himself, falling over backward onto the pillow like some kind of princess. "Oh, my shoulder," he'd sigh, "won't someone take pity on this poor, injured sorcerer?"

And you'd sit there in your corner, feet up on the desk, idly scrolling your phone as if you hadn't even noticed his presence at all. So he'd walk up and collapse behind you, drawing his arms around your neck and pulling your back to his chest. "If only some kindhearted healer could help me out of the goodness of her pretty soul!" he declared to 'no one in particular', sighing dramatically and resting his head on your shoulder, flashing his eyes at you, innocent like a little puppy waiting to be pampered.

Noticing your concentration on your phone, he used his technique to lift your phone from your hand. "Hey!" you huffed, "I was watching something."

"Me first. Watch later." He has a pout on his lips like a toddler deprived of attention. You roll your eyes and raise two fingers to his forehead, gently pushing him off your shoulder. "Hey!"

It almost makes you want to laugh. He wasn't fooling anyone. Not even his students, who he often accompanied to the infirmary when they got injured (and who also noticed that he'd then get a little too excited seeing them get hurt). Your lips curl into a smile you hope he doesn't notice.

"Alright. Get on the bed."

He chuckles, leaning by his elbows back on the bed as you pull up a chair like you've done all these years. "Easy tiger."

"Don't test me, Satoru."

"Yes ma'am!"

EPILOGUE

Nobara, Yuji, and Megumi knew their teacher was kind of a wackjob but this was something else.

Satoru Gojo had his arms crossed, levitating the cursed spirit they were meant to be fighting in midair, his face right up to the thing's grotesque 'fist'.

"You can't be serious, right? You've gotta be able to hit me harder than that!" Satoru groans, "that was, like, nothing!" He turns off his infinity, grabbing the thing's hulking arm, miming the arm socking him in the face. "Like this, see! Preferably on my mouth," he flashes a wide grin.

His students stand back, dumbfounded. Yuji lowers his fists. Nobara lowers her hammer. Megumi shoves his hands in his pockets and frowns, unamused.

"... What's he doing...?"

"... No clue."

writing masterlist | bot masterlist

☾₊ ⊹ AN: this is a rando headcanon i've had about gojo for a long time hehe. thought i'd write something short about it.

#satoru gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk imagines #jjk fic #jjk fanfiction #jjk x reader #gojo #jjk fluff #writing by junie #jujutsu kaisen #jjk

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lothcats-and-clones · 5 months ago

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This is so sweet. You captured Tech's personality perfectly. I love how it takes him a while to articulate his feelings. Well done!!!

Need a Hand? - Summer of Bad Batch

A/N: This was completed to fulfill week 5 of Summer of Bad Batch! The prompt was “Need a Hand?” This version is fluffy, but I’m working on a spicer version too 😏

WARNINGS: Fluff

1.9k words under cut

You first met the group of siblings you learned to be Clone Force 99 when they stopped at your shop in Ord Mantel. You were rewiring some components at the counter when the little blonde girl had come dashing over first. “What’s a…Certified Preowned Assorted Parts Emporium?” she asked you, reading the sign over your stall. She had expressive brown eyes and a heavy accent.

You laughed. “Fancy name for a junkyard, kid.”

The rest of the group had caught up. Despite the fact that they were with such a sweet young girl, they seemed like an extremely rough crowd. The one with the long hair a had half his face tattooed like a skull, and the one glowering at you with a toothpick in his mouth had a sniper’s crosshair tattooed around his eye. One had lost an arm and replaced it with a scomp. There was also an absolute giant of a man who looked like he could snap anyone or anything in half without effort. Last, though, came was someone who didn’t look like he belonged at all. He didn’t have any visible tattoos and seemed to have all his appendages. He wore goggles and was walking along with his nose in his datapad. When he spoke, it was in a crisp, matter of fact tone.

“Hunter.” Face Tattoo turned. “I sincerely doubt any of the second-rate establishments on a backwater planet such as this would carry the precise components we need for the Marauder.”

“Hey nerd,” you called, only mildly offended. “Fortunately for you, you found the only first rate establishment on this backwater planet.” You winked at the girl. She giggled.

“The definition of first rate is debatable,” Nerd replied, fidgeting with his goggles.

“Alright, then. Let’s deal with the objective,” you shot back. “Give me the list of parts you need and if I don’t have them in stock or I can’t get them with in a standard week, I’ll settle for second rate.”

You held out your hand for his datapad. Nerd looked at Face Tattoo, who nodded. With a heavy sigh, Nerd handed it to you.

“You’ll have to excuse Tech,” said Sniper lazily as you scrolled through the list of parts. “He’s always convinced he has the only brain cells for a radius of 100 clicks.”

You had every part in stock. “C’mon,” you told the group, leading the way to your inventory out back.

After you were able to win your wager with Tech, the Batch started coming around a lot more.

Omega had been the first to capture your heart, and no wonder. She saw the best in everyone and every situation, but was still tougher and more resilient than most adults you knew. Wrecker was almost just sweet but had a knowledge of weapons and explosives that far surpassed your own. It took a minute to figure out Crosshair, but he respected someone who could dish out the sarcasm as well as they could take it. Echo and Hunter were fiercely protective of their squad, and as soon as you demonstrated that same loyalty, you were as good as one of their own. You had even accompanied the Batch on a few missions when your technical expertise would come in handy.

But Tech…It had been almost a year since you had met the Batch, and despite the trust and friendship you had with the rest of the squad, you were still getting nowhere with him.

At first it seemed like he should be the easiest for you to get along with. You were both mechanically minded and loved ships and flying. But he almost never even looked up from his datapad when you were around, and when he did, he was always annoyed whenever you tried to help.

It wouldn’t have bothered you so much if you didn’t have such a silly crush on the man. He could rattle off facts for hours on just about any topic in the galaxy. You hadn’t known him to encounter a technological problem he couldn’t resolve. You were tall, but Tech’s lean body still towered over yours. And he was just as much a super solider as any of his brothers. Some of the missions you had accompanied the squad on had gotten pretty rough. Tech was right in the middle of the action, taking tactical risks and scoring hits as much as any of his brothers.

You had spoken to Hunter about your concern a few months ago. “I just don’t understand why he dislikes me so much. I don’t know what I did to offend him.”

Hunter signed. “Nothing. That’s just Tech. Usually he might have warmed up to someone by now, but I would try not to take it too personally.”

“I’d take it personally,” Crosshair sneered as he walked by.

“Yes, you definitely should,” you quipped back grinning, “since everyone dislikes you on a personal level.”

“Want me to talk to him?” Hunter asked.

You considered. “No, it’s ok. If it really starts to bother me, I’ll bring it up myself.”

You tried to push the issue to the back of your mind, but to no avail.

When you received a message from Omega saying they had returned from their most recent mission, you made up your mind to talk to Tech about it. You headed over to the usual docking bay to welcome the Batch back. The ramp of the Marauder was closed, but you heard the metallic clicking of tools coming from underneath.

“Hello?” you called.

Tech’s voice answered. “Down here.”

Instantly you felt the sensation of butterflies in your stomach. You knelt down, leaning your head under the ship. “Need a hand?” you asked brightly.

“I do not,” he said in a clipped tone.

You held back your disappointed sigh. “Where’s everyone else?” you inquired, still trying to sound cheerful.

“Supply run.”

“And I bet Omega and Wrecker are getting their celebratory mantel mix after another successful mission.”

“That would be a logical deduction based on their past patterns of behavior.”

You examined the underside of the ship. There was quite a bit of carbon scoring.

“Oof, glad you made it back in one piece!” you exclaimed. “Looks like the last mission got pretty hot!”

“Hence the repairs,” Tech replied.

You scooted under the ship to see what he was working on.

He was trying to rewire a circuit board, but hands were too big to access the compartment properly to remove the panel. He was holding the screwdriver at an angle. Instead of loosening the screw, the tool just kept slipping.

You leaned over him slightly, extending your hand for the screwdriver. “Here, my hands are smaller, I bet I can do it.”

“I do not require assistance,” he said stubbornly.

“I know you know how but that doesn’t change the physics of your hands. Just let me…Ugh, you’re gonna strip the screw, Tech!” you said frustratedly. You tried to take the tool from him but he held it out of your reach.

“What is your problem with me?” you demanded angrily.

“You make everything much harder than it has to be, regardless of what you do, just by being present,” he replied immediately.

You were shocked into silence. You were embarrassed to feel your eyes stinging with tears. “I’ll just go then,” you said, starting to wriggle out from under the ship.

“Wait. Will you allow me to clarify what I mean?”

Great, you thought. Hearing in excruciating detail exactly why Tech hates you. “Fine,” you mumbled, blinking furiously to try to keep from crying.

Tech didn’t look at you, but stared up at the underside of the Marauder.

“It is hard for me to say goodbye to you before we leave on missions. While the squad does have an undeniable success rate, there are always variables that cannot be accounted for, and there is no guarantee we will return unscathed, if at all.

“Similarly, it is hard for me to watch you leave at night to return your domicile. I am well aware you are capable of looking after yourself, but I am concerned for your safety and I do not want any harm to befall you.”

Wait. This was not what you were expecting.

“It is hard to watch you watch you interact with my brothers and sister,” he continued. “You have an ease with them you have never had with me. I am quite certain the issue is with me, but I am equally uncertain how to fix it.

“It is hard for me when you seem to know as much about the mechanics and systems of the Marauder as I do. I both resent and respect you for that, and I cannot comprehend how I can harbor both conflicting emotions.”

He hesitated. “It…is also hard for me when I see you smile or your hair falls in front of your face when you are working. Or…” he cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Or when you are in…certain positions, making repairs. I’m inexplicably drawn to you physically. But I don’t know what to do or how you would react to such a gesture.”

He lapsed into silence.

Your heart was beating wildly at the implications of his lengthy speech. “Tech…” you whispered.

“Thank you for your courtesy in listening. You may leave if you like,” he said returning to his usual brusque manner. Tech turned his attention back to the repairs.

“Conduct an experiment,” you suggested with a shy smile.

“An experiment?” He looked over at you, confused.

You rolled over onto your stomach, propped up on your elbow so your face was above Tech’s. Your hair fell forward in front of your shoulder. “Sure. You said you’re physically drawn to me when my hair is down. Or when I smile. Conduct an experiment and see how I react.”

Hesitantly Tech reached up. He ran his fingers through your hair, tucking the loose strands behind your ear. Your smile widened.

His hand lingered on your cheek. Slowly he raised his face to yours. Behind his goggles, his beautiful eyes searched your face, settling on your mouth. You couldn’t wait any longer. You pressed your lips to his. For a moment he didn’t react, but then he was kissing you back.

“How do you find the results of your experiment?” you asked, slightly breathless, when you finally broke apart.

“Very favorable,” he said. There was a pink tinge to his cheeks. “However, tests often need to be run multiple times to verify the validity of the original results.”

You laughed softly. “I think that’s a good idea.”

He pulled you back to him.

Neither of you were paying any attention to anything else. Not even even when the sound of voices came floating across the landing pad. Or when a pair of boots appeared. A moment later Crosshair’s head peered under the Maurader.

“Found him,” he drawled, making you both jump. “Ooh, and if it isn’t our favorite little mechanic too. Looks like she found something she likes,” he added in taunting delight.

You heard Wrecker’s booming laugh. “About time!”

You sat up to tell Crosshair off, but smacked your head on the underside of the ship. You rubbed your head, already feeling a bump. “For kriff’s sake Cross, go away,” you snapped.

With a final smirk, he stood up and walked onboard.

You turned your head to Tech. He was blushing furiously now. Then you both burst out laughing.

“Next time, we’ll go to my place!” you declared.

“Next time?” he asked hopefully.

You grinned and kissed him on the nose. “Mhmm. Lots of times.”

(My Master List)

Slightly 🌶️ version here

@summer-of-bad-batch

#sfw #tbb #tbb fic #tech x reader

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loganlermanstanaccount · 11 months ago

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RM! Miguel O'Hara headcanons (SFW)

(Wattpad) Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist

College roommate!Miguel O'Hara x reader

summary: In light of the most recent chapter of my college au fic, Rigor mortis; here are some headcanons I have for this version of Miguel <3 .

warnings: none, just fluff :)

a/n: trying to get out of bad writer's block with some drabbles. looking through my asks and making my way through them rn!

wc: 0.5k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He's meant to wear reading glasses but literally never does. You see him squinting at shit all over the apartment, and it only really clicks when you catch him early in the morning (because I know he wakes up at disgusting hours in the day to be productive) and he's got a pair on.

He gives amazing gifts. I feel like he's really detail oriented so he'll take forever to choose meaningful gifts. Not even necessarily expensive; just something that shows he pays attention to conversations: like that item of clothing you loved but can’t afford, something super specific for your hobbies, a whole bunch of books you like because you just mentioned a specific author or genre you love.

Conversely, he's the kind of person that's really difficult to buy gifts for. Everything that he could possibly want, he'll just buy for himself; his interests are too niche for you to buy him tools and things; and he'd give you absolutely bs answers when you ask him straight up. You'd be like, hey, I know your birthday’s soon, what do you want; and he'll say oh, I just want you to be happy, or I have everything I need right here, baby. And you'll be like ok cool, is that yes or a no on the ipad?

Coffee addict. Has all the expensive machines and fancy filters. He lives pretty modestly, but it is the one thing he'll really invest in.

Similarly, will collect old tech and gadgets just to fiddle around with. He has a box of junk underneath his bed that lowkey he’s been building up since he was a kid. I feel like he was such a curious kid and all his tías and tíos would pinch his cheeks and pat his head and give him all their old junk because he shows an interest.

Sleeps like a dad on the couch. Especially after a long day. He stretches out on the sofa like a cat with his hand on bare belly and it is simultaneously super fucking funny and kind of hot??? Like you can see his happy trail and that peek of tan skin and you just knoww that v line is sharp asf.

He talks to himself. Especially after a frustrating day, and it's pretty funny to watch. He becomes so animated and will have a whole ass conversation with himself whilst chopping veg, or something. He'd wave the knife around, playing both sides of a situation. It helps him to decompress and logically reason with difficult problems. It's something he will 10000% deny if you bring it up.

He's funny. Not necessarily laugh out loud, quippy one liners; but he has a super dry sense of humor. He's fond of a deadpan, and will often play it straight whilst saying something ridiculous. I feel like no-one usually gets when he's being sarcastic, but for some reason you do, and it makes his eyes go wide the first time. Like you catch something he says under his breath and laugh; and he's stuttering because people don't usually have the same kind of humor as him.

long story short, he's a big ol' softie. more bark than bite :)

#i luv him #miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #rigor mortis 😼#miguel o'hara #miguel o hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #kat_writes😼#fluff #miguel o'hara headcanons

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soaringthroughthegalaxy · 1 year ago

Note

Hi. I read your work on Ao3 and I saw that you said we could come here and leave a request. Can you write something with Crosshair x fem reader with the prompt "What kind of spell did you put on me?" And if I can help you with the plot, maybe the reader could be a shy doctor who agreed to work with the boys when everyone else rejected it. There aren't many stories out there with Crosshair and a shy reader. You choose whether there will be smut or not. xoxo 🌺

Thank you so much, anon. Writing a shy reader was fun. I hope I did it justice! Kept this one SFW.

Cracks in the Wall

Not much could ruffle Crosshair's feathers or get past the wall he'd built around himself over the years - until he met you.

Pairing: Crosshair x f!reader

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: sibling banter/teasing, shy!reader, doctor!reader, Cross doesn’t know what to do with feelings but he’s trying okay, sprinkle of self-doubt from both Cross and reader, alludes to medical trauma, fluff, softness, cheeky lil’ kiss, pet names.

“Off somewhere?” Hunter’s voice cuts through their shared barracks, stopping Crosshair as he heads for the door. He’s careful to keep his voice even, suppressing the smile that’s trying to appear.

Crosshair grits his teeth, freezing at his older brother’s question. He’d hoped to get away with minimal fuss, but the Maker didn’t look to be on his side today. “Fresh air.” He answers cooly with a slight shrug, sliding effortlessly behind a mask of indifference.

“Right…” Hunter drags out the word, raising an eyebrow as he glances out the panoramic window. “In the storm?” He clarifies, knowing eyes turning back to his baby brother.

“Nah, he’s slinking off to see that pretty doctor again, ain’t ya?” Wrecker steamrollers, not one to miss the opportunity to tease Crosshair. He sits on the edge of his bunk, leaning forward like an excited child about to be told a deep secret.

Crosshair doesn’t dignify the question with an answer, though nerves have him sliding the toothpick between his lips to the other side of his mouth.

Tech knows he shouldn’t torment his twin, but when it’s been so beautifully laid out for him, he would be remiss not to. “Feeling unwell again?” He asks, tone neutral though the mirth in his eyes is unmissable.

The frustrated grunt Crosshair lets out makes his brothers chuckle, and he stalks from the room, the sound of their combined laughter only dying out once the door slides shut behind him.

Making his way down the corridor towards the medbay, the sterile white halls of Kamino make him squint, the light unnecessarily bright. He hates the constant noise and busyness here, the Regs sneering at him as he passes. He hates how sterile everything is and all the memories of being tested and tormented as a cadet.

But that hatred evaporates as he rounds the corner and spots your name on the board for ‘on duty’ doctors. At least there was one good thing about coming back.

Crosshair’s pace slows as he reaches the doors to the medbay, pesky nerves settling into his gut. He takes a moment to compose himself, adjusting his armour and smoothing a hand over his hair. He might be an expert marksman on the battlefield, but the prospect of a simple conversation with you has him feeling oddly out of his element.

You were the only doctor who’d tend to him and his brothers when they were injured, the only one willing to adapt how you worked to suit their differences. The memories of your considerate actions flood his mind – dimming the lights so he doesn’t have to squint, providing candy to uplift Wrecker’s spirits, explaining procedures to Tech, and creating a more comfortable space for Hunter’s senses. It wasn’t just out of professional duty; there was a personal touch, a kindness rarely extended to him and his brothers.

Somewhere along the way, Crosshair had found himself replaying your interactions like a cherished film, analysing every word and every gesture, searching for any signs that you enjoyed his company as much as he did yours. You never pushed or asked too much of him, never complained when he denied a test, and you didn’t draw attention to the way his body betrayed him by trembling ever so slightly whenever you approached with a needle for blood tests or booster shots.

With a deep breath, he pushes open the medbay doors. The familiar hum of medical equipment and the crisp scent of bacta greet him as he steps inside. Memories try to resurface, but he battles them down, even as his heart races.

The medbay is relatively quiet, with a few Regs resting in recovery beds and a medical droid diligently tending to its duties. And there, at the back of the room, head bent over a datapad, he spots you. He hesitates for a moment, watching you work. He shouldn’t be disturbing you; he knows you’re always busy, but since Tech had informed him that they were heading back to Kamino, he hasn’t been able to shake the urge to see you, speak to you, and exist in the same space as you.

As he approaches, his boots make a minimal sound on the pristine floor, and he clears his throat, his usually confident demeanour faltering in the presence of the one person who manages to unravel his composure. “Hey.” His voice breaks the silence, though it doesn’t draw the attention of the Regs or droids.

Caught off guard, you startle a little, glancing up. Your eyes widen slightly as you take in the man standing before you. Elation floods your body as you gaze into the sharp brown eyes you’d come to adore, and relief follows quickly at the realisation that he’s in one piece and has survived whatever mission he’d been sent on recently. For the longest time, you’d tried to convince yourself that your care for the quiet sniper was solely professional, but you were fooling no one. “Cross… you’re back.” You greet him, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

He’d never admit it, but warmth spreads through his chest at the nickname. “Didn’t mean to startle you.” He mutters, sliding his toothpick back to the other side of his mouth.

Your eyes track the movement of the toothpick before flicking up to meet his gaze, offering him a warm smile. “No problem. Just caught up in the datapad, you know how it is.”

He nods, though internally, he’s relieved by your easy response. The following silence is awkward, and your gaze dips away momentarily, but you take the initiative and set aside the datapad. “What brings you to the medbay today? Not feeling under the weather, I hope?” You inquire, concern evident in your expression.

Guilt churns in Crosshair’s gut, but he refuses to let it show. He can’t help himself. “Feeling off.” He states, the lie rolling from his tongue with ease.

With a slight frown of concern, you gesture towards the private consultation room, a familiar song and dance now. Crosshair enters the room first, depositing his toothpick in the trash can near the door before he slides himself up to sit on the exam bed while you enter. The door clicks shut, and you fall into a standard med check routine.

Crosshair answers your questions with his usual brevity, providing enough information to satisfy your professional curiosity and cover up that he’s lying to be here with you. As you work, the tension in the room eases.

As you move to the physical examination, you watch as Crosshair pries his left hand plate and gauntlet off, enabling you to slide your fingers under the cuff of his blacks, pointer and middle fingers pressed to his wrist, counting the beats of his heart.

Despite his best efforts to remain indifferent, he can’t help but feel warm at your touch, heart rate elevating.

Under your fingers, you feel his pulse quicken. It’s throwing off your count, and you know that once again, you won’t get an accurate figure, but you don’t draw attention to it, blissfully believing it was his anxiety at being in the medbay. Selfishly, you enjoy this part the most. Crosshair is warm to the touch, skin surprisingly soft, and you can stand a little closer than usual, enabling you to breathe in a scent you’ve come to associate with him – regulation body wash, blaster cleaner, and a sour sweetness you’re sure is from candy. You’ve seen how he eyes up the sour gummies you hand to Wrecker whenever you’ve finished patching up or looking over the gentle giant.

After a minute, you draw your hand back, offering a slight nod, which sees him sliding his armour back into place. Lifting your pointer finger, you wait for his gaze to snap towards it, and then you watch as he tracks it side to side, up and down, near and far. You’d recommended the addition of this check when you’d learned about his enhancements – never a defect, in your opinion – and how heavily he relied on his vision.

He tracks your finger with ease, eyes moving smoothly and quickly. “Everything seems to be in order.” You state quietly, reaching for a nearby datapad to update his medical file.

Crosshair can’t help but admire you as you tap away at the screen. He sees a great deal from afar, but being closer opens a new world. “How’ve you been?” He asks, finding himself genuinely curious. He hates small talk with a burning passion, but he’ll always make an exception for you.

“Good! It’s been busy. We had some of the boys from 184th come in, and their injuries were unlike anything I’ve seen before.” You paused in your tapping, glancing up at Crosshair, gauging whether to continue. His gaze was focused on you, and the fact he was still listening gave you the courage to continue. “I mean, I’ve dealt with blaster wounds, shrapnel, even the occasional strange accident, but this...this was something else.” You shared, focusing back on the screen before continuing the story.

“They had this inexplicable rash all over their bodies. I’ve never seen anything spread so fast. And the worst part? No one could figure out where it came from. We ran every test imaginable, yet their blood work was normal; there were no signs of infection, but this rash kept spreading.” You rambled, excited at getting to share this with him. It had been a highlight of the last few weeks – a break from the usual. “We started brainstorming, throwing around ideas, and then it hit me. We needed to check their gear, their uniform, everything. And you won’t believe what we found.” You paused again, looking up at Crosshair with wide eyes.

Did Crosshair give a damn about some Regs with a rash? No, not really. But he cared about you, and the excitement on your beautiful face, as you shared this story, meant he’d gladly listen to the tale a hundred times. “What did you find?” He asked, watching as you broke out into a smile. Sometimes, his heart ached at how easy it was to make you happy – that all it took was someone willing to listen to you.

“Coma-bloom flowers. They’d made camp beside a huge patch of coma-bloom and, while sleeping on the ground, had rolled into some of its pollen. It could’ve killed them if they’d accidentally ingested it, so thank the Maker, all they did was get it on their skin. But still…took a lot of meds, and a lot of showers, to get it out of their systems.” You explained. It had been a fascinating case, expanding your medical knowledge and driving you into exploring other fauna and flora that could be toxic to the men who swung by the medbay.

The realisation sank in quickly that you’d rambled for a while, excited over a case of troopers with a rash. Maker above, he’d think you were crazy. Head dipping a little, you tapped at the datapad screen nervously.

Your sudden shift in mood wasn’t lost on him. He’d seen his brother act the same way after info-dumping. “Smart girl.” Crosshair murmurs, a deep feeling of pride settling in his chest. The shyness that overcame you at his compliment made his gut twist. You were too sweet.

Warmth blooms in your chest at the compliment, and you busy yourself by sifting through his medical file, so you don’t dwell on the feelings bubbling inside you. “You didn’t collect the prescriptions from your previous visits...” You mumble with a frown, double-checking that you were reading his notes correctly. “Did the symptoms go away on their own?” You ask, glancing up at him.

Crosshair freezes, mind racing as he tries to devise an excuse. Any excuse would do.

They were shipped out before he could collect them? No. Once, perhaps, but more than that, and it would be obvious he was lying.

He could go down the route of feeling better before collecting them. But no, that would only make it seem like he’d been wasting your time.

With a sigh, Crosshair realises he only has one path. “They were never there to begin with.” He comes clean.

Brow’s furrowing, your head tilts ever so slightly, curious and concerned. “What? Then why did yo-“

“What kind of spell did you put on me?” Crosshair unintentionally interrupts, watching as your concern melts into surprise, your beautiful eyes blinking a few times. He reaches out, tracing a finger across your cheek before dragging his thumb across your lower lip. “You won’t leave my thoughts. Driving me crazy.” He whispers, loathing how vulnerable he feels but unable to stop himself now there are cracks in the wall he’d built up around himself.

“O-Oh…” You swallow, not sure what to do with such a confession, caught off guard by the intensity of the words and his gaze. The thud of your heart rings in your ears, and butterflies erupt in your stomach. “Urm, well, I’m so-”

Before you can finish the sentence, Crosshair presses his thumb more firmly to your lips. “Don’t you dare apologise, doll.”

Silence hangs in the air between you. Your thoughts are a whirlwind, processing the unexpected confession from Crosshair. His touch lingers on your lips, and you can feel the warmth of his skin against your face. The nickname catches you off guard, and a flutter of something unspoken stirs within you.

Crosshair, for all his stoicism, appears different in this moment. Vulnerability seeps through the cracks in his demeanour, and the intensity of his gaze makes your heart race. You can’t deny the attraction you’ve felt for him, the way your heart would skip a beat whenever he entered the medbay, but this...this is a revelation.

Finally, Crosshair withdraws his thumb from your lips, filling the room with a charged silence. It’s as if the atmosphere has shifted. “When are you next off duty?” He asks. He’d already shown his hand, and you hadn’t run away or demanded he leave – it was worth pushing his luck just a little more.

Confusion mars your brow. “Tomorrow.” You answer quietly.

“I know this great place on Kowak.” Crosshair pitches, anxiety clinging to his words despite his attempt to sound casual. He’s never been one for small talk or sweet gestures, but the prospect of spending time with you outside the confines of the medbay is something he finds strangely appealing.

Your eyes widen in surprise, the unexpected invitation catching you off guard. Kowak isn’t exactly a typical choice for a casual outing, but then again, Crosshair is anything but typical. “Kowak? Really?” You respond, a mix of curiosity and amusement colouring your tone.

He nods, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “Yeah, there’s this little cantina with the best atmosphere. Quiet, secluded. I think you’ll like it.”

A genuine smile tugs at the corners of your lips. “I’ll take your word for it. Tomorrow, then?”

Crosshair nods again, a subtle tension releasing from his shoulders. “Tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at 0900 hours.” He shifts off the exam bed, booted feet meeting the floor. He holds your gaze for a second longer before breaking it and heading for the door.

A fleeting feeling of panic laces through you. You don’t want Crosshair to go, even though you’ll see him tomorrow morning. As he reaches to press the small button to open the exam room door, you call out his name, watching as he pauses. Feet carrying you across the small space, you don’t know where the courage comes from as you push up on your tiptoes, pressing a feather-light kiss to his cheek.

Crosshair freezes at the unexpected touch, his heart pounding in his chest. The sensation of your lips against his cheek sends a jolt through him, and for a moment, he’s unsure how to react. It’s a rare instance where he finds himself genuinely caught off guard.

He turns to face you, his sharp brown eyes meeting yours. The vulnerability in his expression is back, your small gesture cracking open another layer of the wall he tried to hide behind, and Crosshair finds himself at a loss for words.

You, on the other hand, feel a mix of bravery and uncertainty. You’ve taken a leap, and now you’re waiting for the reaction, unsure what it means for the dynamic between you both. His gaze lingers on you, and the air is thick with tension.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Crosshair breaks into a rare, genuine smile. It’s a subtle curve of his lips that transforms his usually serious countenance into something softer. “You surprise me, doc.” He says, his voice a low murmur. “But I’m not complainin’.”

With that, Crosshair steps back and opens the door, sliding a fresh toothpick between his lips. As he exits the room, he glances back at you, a lingering intensity in his gaze. The door slides shut behind him, leaving you in the quiet room, heart racing and mind reeling from the unexpected turn of events.

Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough.

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