#wrecker headcannons
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yoitsjay · 4 months ago
Note
I don't have a song to request but I had an idea, I really don't mind if the request is kept in the dark for however long, if you're not taking requests right now it's completely fine I just needed to ask (anxiety took over me and I have wanted to ask for quite a while now).
I'd like to ask for a Wrecker fic where the reader is bad with emotions and gets angered easily, like they lose their temper with little things, especially when overwhelmed (and/or when Crosshair is near) and Wrecker is their safe space. He might give them a hug and lend them Lula to comfort reader, I just know he gives the best hugs.
Thank you, you're an amazing writer ❤️.
Thank you so much! I made this into headcannons because I felt like it ♡
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Anger Outlets
Pairings: Wrecker x gn! Reader
Summary: Crosshair pissed you off yet again, but Wreckers there to make it all better.
Warnings: crosshair being annoying, Wrecker comfort.
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"God your so fucking infuriating!" You would shout, every single time Crosshair said something or did something so dumb, even if it was something small like moving or misplacing one of your personal items.
All of the bad batch knew that your shit? It was off. Limits.
But Crosshair loved to push those boundaries. And you started to wonder if he liked getting his ass kicked.
Crosshair had yet again moved your data pad, and you had found it almost falling into the Marauders toilet.
You went berserk. You ended up throwing your datapad point blank into Crosshair's head, cutting off his laughter as you knocked him out with ease.
Though your datapad was trashed upon impact.
Though despite that you were ready to kill the bastard, rather than just knocking him out.
Until Wrecker swept you up off your feet before you could start pummeling the bad batches prized sniper.
"Let me go you bitch!" You'd scream, kick, maybe even bite if his arms were close enough, though Wrecker held you at an arms length as you writhed around like a savage little beast.
It was kinda cute...
In a fucked up way.
When you had calmed down, at least somewhat. Wrecker carried you to your cot, and shoved his Lula doll into your arms.
Your eyes went wide. He never gave anyone his Lula doll, even for a few seconds.
"Seriously?" You asked, holding the doll close to your chest as Wrecker held you from behind, his firm grip on you relaxing.
"Yes really." Wrecker confirmed, resting his chin on the top of your head.
"You need the comfort." He added, and you couldn't stop the smile from growing on your lips.
You relaxed, and almost forgot about the shit Crosshair pulled-
Almost.
Though Wrecker was there to make sure you didn't cripple their sniper. That was for the future, not the present.
Wrecker tag:
Tbb:
@only-my-unexistent-fiances
All:
@moomoog017
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the-bi-space-ace · 7 days ago
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Trouble Sleeping Headcanons
hi I haven’t been sleeping well for the past few weeks (anxiety) so here’s what our favorite clones are like when they can’t sleep.
Echo
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He does one of two things. 1) Sometimes when he can’t sleep he goes to the cockpit to join whoever is on watch. He sits in the copilot’s seat and hangs out or chats. Keeps them entertained. 2) he picks a target and climbs into bed with them. He’s very quiet about it so he usually doesn’t wake them up. Often one of the batch wakes up to an armful of Echo and zero blankets because he’s stolen them in his sleep.
Crosshair
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Can’t stand suffering alone. He will wake someone up to talk to him and he will also try to convince them they woke him up. They rarely fall for this but go along with him anyway. Either that or he’ll sketch. Clean his rifle. Something to keep his hands busy. If they’re parked he will get out on top of the ship and stargaze.
Cody
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He rolls over and rubs a hand down his face and works. Reports. Battle plans. Messages from other commanders asking for his opinion. He just keeps going until his brain is so overloaded he just passes out. Sometimes he will wake up and stare at the ceiling and think about finding someone to bunk with for the night but often he prefers keeping busy.
Rex
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This man goes for a jog. Or boxes. Anything physical. He can’t sleep so he might as well train. If his muscles hurt and he’s exhausted he might be able to sleep. He will work out until he’s nothing but sweat and sore muscles and then he takes a shower. Sometimes other clones are doing the same thing he is, trying to do anything to get their minds to quiet, but other times he just walks around alone. He does a barracks check if that still doesn’t work, walking through the rows of sleeping troopers to make sure all is well.
Wrecker
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Is not often in a situation where sleep doesn’t come easy. But if he does find himself awake he will find a snack. Eating will usually get him to at least the sleepy stage again. His next trick is to just make sure Lula is close by. Once he’s warm and full(er) he can usually manage falling back to sleep.
Tech
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He’s gonna tinker. He will find any and every project and tinker until the sun rises. He has finished larger projects in one night from this very behavior.
Hunter
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I’m imagining him sitting in a chair on the Marauder and sipping on something warm. He will sometimes relieve the person on watch and take over. He is also more inclined to a physical distraction but their busy schedule means he can’t go for a run like he’d prefer. So sometimes he does quiet exercises in the cockpit to avoid waking anyone else up. Tire himself out that way. Extra headcanon that if Echo also can’t sleep they sit in the cockpit and talk. Sometimes share a bottle of whatever alcohol they have on the ship. Share stories. All in the quiet of the ship while everyone else sleeps.
Fox
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Sleep? What is sleep? He’s had ten energy drinks today and also three stims. He doesn’t remember the last time he closed his eyes. Not even to blink. Was that the caf timer??? Is it daylight already? It’s Thursday he thought it was still Monday? Someone take this man to bed and tuck him in please.
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ireadwithmyears · 9 months ago
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How each member of the bad batch would be with a visually impaired significant other (short imagine’s/headcannons
Part two|visually impaired reader masterlist
Word count: 5.4K
Pairings: the bad batch ex female reader (individual)
Tags/warnings: some are suggestive, mostly domestic fluff, hurt/comfort, mild injuries
note: look, it’s the epitome of self indulgence. I wrote this solely because I’m blind, and have never seen these ideas discussed when it comes to our beloved boys. However, I recognize that the majority of people reading this will not have shared this experience, so this is why I am adding a disclaimer/reminder to tell you that blindness is a spectrum, and the majority of us have at least a degree of useable vision left, so that is why I continue to use visual language/descriptors like look or watching. That being said, I hope you enjoy these, I had so much fun writing them, and if you have an idea for a specific scenario so I can do more of these, or another particular clone who isn’t a member of the batch, please let me know, and I would be happy to write more
Hunter🩷 
Hunter is the best at planning dates when it comes to keeping your accessibility and comfort in mind. 
If he wants to take you out somewhere, he’ll always go and scope it out beforehand, analyzing things that might not make it an enjoyable experience for you. I.e. if the lighting is too low and will obscure any of your remaining vision. If the music is too loud and will make it hard for you to effectively communicate with him. He knows that both of these things, especially when they’re working in tandem, can make you feel on edge and anxious, and that’s the last thing he wants you to feel when he’s taking you out on a date.
He will always ask the establishment about things like accessible or braille menus, or, if you happen to have a guide dog, seating that will have the space to accommodate and be comfortable for all of you.
If the menu isn’t accessible for you, he will always give you a heads up beforehand, using his datapad to pull up the menu on the holonet so that he can help you familiarize yourself with it, and you can decide what you want before you get there, taking a lot of the stress and pressure off of you because you don’t have to rush.
He wants you to feel cherished, loved, and safe when you’re out and about with him. So if you are going somewhere that’s particularly busy or crowded, he will also adapt himself. 
He’ll keep you close, whether it’s with your arm tucked securely in the crook of his elbow to guide you around, or his hand gently placed on the small of your back, letting it rest there so that you know he’s right there with you.
He never plans on getting separated from you, but if, by some unforeseen circumstance, it happens by accident, he has a plan for that too. 
If you’ve got remaining vision that is useable, he will intentionally wear bright, contrasting colours to make him easier to spot, even when he’s a distance away. 
If you don’t have any remaining vision, he’ll wear something like keys that jingle, or an article of jewellery that makes a distinct sound as he walks so that you can tell when he’s approaching. 
Regardless, every time you go on a night out, he will take the time to describe his appearance to you in detail, his general physical description, what he’s wearing, so that if, for some reason, you do get separated, you know how best to describe him to someone, so that they can locate him for you and help you make your way back to him
His enhanced senses have become innately attuned to your normal patterns and rhythms, and if he notices any rapid fluctuation or change be it with your breathing or heart rate, indicating that the environment you’re in is causing you stress, he’s whisking you away, taking you back home, despite any of your protests. He knows you’re just fighting him because you feel guilty about potentially messing up the night, which you absolutely are not.
He will not let you feel that way for long, because when you’re home, he is determined to make you feel like the beautiful, treasured, and wanted human being that you are.
He orders your favourite takeout food. He’ll lie you down on your bed, surrounding you with soft blankets and pillows, gently and tenderly beginning to caress and massage the tension from your tensed up shoulders and back, partly because he feels like he might have inadvertently been the cause of it being there in the first place.
“I’m sorry,��� you try to apologize. “I know you really wanted to...”
“Shh,” he quiets your apology, a hand coming up to softly brush a finger against your lips, resting his forehead against yours gently. “Meshla,” he breathes, unable to help the small smirk of amusement that pulls at the corners of his mouth as he observes, taking note of your breath audibly catching in the back of your throat as his finger, slow and slightly teasing, begins to lightly trace the edge of your bottom lip.
He presses his lips to yours in a sweet, chaste kiss as he affirms, “this is all I want,” he breathes in a whisper close to your ear that immediately has your whole body erupting in goosebumps.
“You,” he continues, his voice a low, husky rumble against your neck as his lips press, warm and deliberate, directly where your pulse flutters beneath them, pulling a soft, yet audible gasp out of you, that makes his lips curve up into a smile that you can feel against the skin of your neck.  “Are all I want.” 
He spends the rest of the night taking his time to prove that to you, in every way that he knows how.
*
Tech🩷
He takes note of every single bruise you get on your legs from bumping into shit all the time. 
You’re blind, it’s just an occupational hazard. You might not even notice that you have one, but he certainly does, and he’ll take care to notify you of every time you accumulate a new mark in your collection.
“There is a bruise directly above your left knee,” he observes, gentle fingers tracing over the mark with a soft frown marring his features. 
He naturally has picked up on using the language that is most helpful to describe the location of something visual to you. You didn’t even have to ask the first time you were on hands and knees on the floor, feeling around for one of your shoes. He didn’t point, and say “it’s over there,” which is just instinctive habit for most people. Instead, he had a used more specific directives like “behind you, on a slight diagonal to your right.”
“How did this happen,” he asks softly now, placing your hand directly on top of the blossoming mark on your leg.
You give him a half shrug and a rueful smile. “I don’t know,” you admit, honestly puzzled. “It happens all the time.”
From then on, he observes you closely, quickly coming to the realization that there are things that are just harder for you to look out for, and, just as quickly, doing his best to rectify each one. He’s easily able to identify a pattern of cause and effect that lead to your many bruises, bumps, and small every day accidents, and rather than being over bearing and cautious with you, he just figures out a way to remove the root of each problem entirely.
Each step on the Marauder’s gangway is suddenly marked with a long strip of brightly coloured tape at each edge, so that you can more confidently move down the steps without having to fumble to find the edge with your foot.
Low sitting caf tables in the middle of the living room, with sharp, jagged corners jutting out are suddenly pushed up against the wall, so that you don’t have to be careful while stepping around them, trying not to hit your leg off of one of them.
He makes sure that any overhead cupboards in the kitchen that are hard for you to notice until your head is colliding with their open doors, are kept securely shut, recalling a particular incident when, whilst putting away dishes, your head had caught on one of the cupboard doors, large bump blossoming on your forehead, just barely missing your eye. He had frowned, gently holding an ice pack to the swelling bump, deciding that from now then on, he would put any of the dishes away that needed to go on the top shelves. He wouldn’t budge on this, even when you tried to argue.
“Cyar,” he had said, voice stern, even as he gently took you by both of your shoulders. “I understand your need to be able to do things independently, and I respect it greatly. But, as much as you can make a light about getting bruises on your legs from these little incidents. Your head is much too important to apply that same lightness to, and I will not compromise on that so please, let me do this for you.” he had leaned down, barely brushing his lips over the bump on your head in a caring, affectionate gesture, and that had made your resolve completely crumble.
He’s also hyper aware of your systems and ways of organizing things, and it has become a habit for him to make sure that it is maintained. 
Shampoo and conditioner bottles that look almost identical with exception to the labels that isn’t much help to you are always set in a specific order for you to find in the shower. You always leave things like your wallet and your cane in the same place, and if anyone messes with these orders, it can really throw you off.
If anyone does touch or move any of your things, regardless of how insignificant, without telling you first, Tech will find out, and, especially if it’s one of his brothers, will thoroughly scold them for it, ensuring that they understand why somethings so small could be really frustrating and disorienting for you, and makes sure that they never do it again.
If you read braille, this man learns it for fun one day on a whim, and he doesn’t even tell you about it.
He’ll put away your groceries for you one day, and then you’ll be searching for something like a dinner ingredient, and find that he’s attached a braille label to the box, with completely correct use of the six dots that form the language.
When you confront him with it, he only shrugs, adjusting his goggles with a slightly confused expression.
“You sound surprised,” he observes with one raised eyebrow. “In a practical sense, this was a logical solution,” he continues, clearly unfazed by your display of shock.
“That’s not fair,” you pout, leaning against the counter and folding your arms. “If you’re going to learn braille, then you at least need to teach me some Mandoa,” you challenge.
“I was not aware that you were interested in the subject. But that is an agreeable request. What would you like to know?” He asks, looking at you questioningly.
“Like,” you bite your lip, considering, tilting your head in curiosity. “What’s that word that you always call me?” You ask. “It starts with an S? I think? Or maybe a C...c cyar?” You say, suddenly uncertain and cringing at your own pronunciation.
He straightens, suddenly grateful that you’re unable to see the blush that’s crept into his cheeks as he answers evenly. 
“Ah, yes, the word that you were saying is correct. Cyar... it means, love... or beloved,” he answers, voice going soft as he catches your hand in his, almost absently pressing his lips to the back of your knuckles briefly as you stare at him, surprised.
“You ... you love me?” You ask, hopeful and voice clearly bewildered. The smile that pulls at the corners of your lips lights up the whole room. 
Both eyebrows arch as he looks down at you, because now he’s the one who’s confused. When he responds, his voice is far less confident and sure than it usually is. It holds almost a shy, completely uncharacteristic timidness, which conveys the genuine honesty in his words when he speaks.
“Well ...cyar. of course I do. I thought it was obvious.”
*
Echo🩷 
Echo, unlike most people, understands all the aches and pains, mental and physical, that come with being disabled.
He’s sat with you on the bathroom floor, your head resting against the cool linoleum of one of the tiles on the wall after a concert. You had come home to find your head throbbing from the after affects of being surrounded by a combination of extremely loud music, a screaming crowd, and strobe lights that made you wish that you didn’t have any remaining vision at all. 
Your eyes were shut tightly, and  your heart fluttered with surprise and gratitude when, with his one functioning hand, Echo, movements slow and meticulous, carefully began to undo your hair from the tight updo it had been forced into all night. There he sat, fingers so, so gentle as they ran through your hair, undoing the tangles and soothing away some of the tight ache that had gathered at the back of your head. 
He’s careful to stay quiet, not wanting to interrupt the little bit of peace that you had found. The only thing that fell from his lips were gentle breaths and soft murmurs of “oh, sweetness, s’okay,” lips pressing the lightest kisses to your flushed cheek, the side of your aching forehead, until the painkillers had finally, finally kicked in.
If you’re a cane user, he always has his eyes peeled for the little bumps and cracks along the sidewalk.
He’s seen what happens when the tip gets caught in one of them, when the handle inevitably jabs against your stomach or ribs and the immediate discomfort on your face that follows.
He also sees the bruises that are left there afterwards, and as much as he loves gently pressing his lips to each of them, reassuring you that he’ll kiss them better, he’d rather them just not be there in the first place.
So, he always watches out for them, giving you an ample warning on ones that your cane could get caught in so that you can move it out of the way. 
He takes you to a holofilm, and you both don’t realize that it’s not available with audio description until you’re in your seats and the headset doesn’t work. He immediately turns to you, giving you a reassuring smile and offering his hand, saying “We can leave, if you want. If you’re not going to get anything out of this, we can go, and we’ll find something else to do.”
You decide to stick it out, rationalizing that you’ll still be able to get something out of the film, if not the whole story, and besides, he can catch you up on parts you didn’t understand after it’s over. 
In the end, it’s still worth it for you.  
You finish half of a bag of popcorn before commercials are even over. You’re intrigued by the movie for almost half of it, and then finally, you spend the rest of it passed out with your head resting on Echo’s shoulder, only for him to wake you, slightly chagrined, when the credits are rolling.
When you’re out of the theater, you walk together hand in hand down the street. He apologizes profusely, saying that he should have done more research. You try to laugh it off to reassure him that it was fine, because you just had one of the best naps of your life in that theater. When it’s clear that that doesn’t help, you’re turning to him, sighing with a small frown.
“Echo,” you say with a small shake of your head. “I’m the one who should be sorry, not you, love.” At his look of bewilderment, you continue. “You do so much for me already, and I’m just so, so grateful for that. It’s not always something I feel like I can repay you for.” You look away, ashamed. 
Because it’s true. He has his own set of issues and lingering problems from the injuries he sustained at the citadel. You can encourage him to do things like his physiotherapy exercises that ensures that his cybernetics are working in tandem with his body. But you can’t actually help him with them, whether it be with making modifications or repairs. It sometimes makes you feel a bit useless, because he helps you so much and you feel like you can only help him so little, and you feel like you’re just adding to his already overflowing plate sometimes.
“I know there could be easier people for you to be with,” you confess, voice quiet.
Echo stops dead at the street corner, catching your wrist to stop you from moving forward, and turning to fully face you with his brow creased in a frown.  
“Oh, Cyar’ika,” he says, voice soft, reaching out a hand to tilt your head up so that you’re looking at him. “Now who put that idea in your head, ner kar’ta?” he whispers, gazing down at you with pursed lips.
Unexpected tears spring to your eyes at his gentle tone. The truth is that you can’t place this feeling on a singular person, though people have contributed to it. Family members have made comments in passing, strangers who look at the two of you and immediately begin to judge from there own preconceived notions and outside opinions. It’s society at large, who has made you feel like your blindness is a burden to the ones you love. 
You don’t know how to say that, though. So you remain silent as Echo leans down, dropping a lingering kiss to your forehead as he whispers, “I don’t need you to make my life easier, cyar. You make my life meaningful, and that, to me, is more important. 
He rests his forehead against yours, brushing a soft kiss to your lips. “Your needs don’t make you a burden, cyar’ika. I want you to remember that. I want to make sure that they are always being met. It’s the least I can do, you understand?”
All you can do is nod, your heart in your throat. 
The next time you go see a holofilm with him, and the audio description isn’t available, Echo is prepared this time.
He still offers to leave, but when you refuse, he has a plan. In his own time, and on the occasions when you both have been watching something at home, he always makes sure the described video settings are on, for your benefit, and when he’s alone, for his.
He’s observed closely, listening and carefully paying attention to how the narrator’s go about describing things. So, when the movie starts, he leans over to you, keeping his voice low and quiet, beginning to describe to you what’s happening onscreen, careful to never interrupt any dialogue.
You stare at him, more than a little surprised. “Echo, are you going to do this for the whole film?” You ask, caught off guard and delighted all at once.
He gives you a quick nod. “Yes,” he answers matter-of-factly. “Now, be quiet and let me do it.”
True to his word, he does, staying close to you and keeping his voice quiet, so as not to disturb anyone around you. If someone still tries to shush him or gives him a dirty look for talking in the theater, he glares at them, in only the way that Echo can, until they stop.
This time, you stay awake during the whole film, watching intently, and listening to echos every word as he is meticulous in describing the visual things that you’re missing. In spite of all of the things that are different in comparison to your last date, one thing still remains the same.
You still finish the movie with your head resting on his broad shoulder, and he still looks at you like you’re the centre of his world.
*
Wrecker🩷 
The first time you make a blind joke about yourself in front of him, he’s terrified. 
Instinctively, he starts laughing, but then, registering your words, he immediately cuts himself off, not wanting to offend you, and is concerned that you’re being mean to yourself, which he will not allow. 
When you only snort at his reaction, playfully nudging him and explaining how it’s fine, because you have to make fun of the things that you are unable to change, and how it’s actually a mark of self love if you have the ability to laugh at yourself, slowly, he begins to understand. 
Soon enough, he not only readily laughs at your self deprecating humour and blind jokes, but at one point, he ends up slipping out one of his own before he can stop himself.
Again, he’s immediately apologetic and regretting his words, but when you throw back your head and laugh heartily, he feels a little less insecure and soon enough, you both have the ability to crack blind jokes with each other without missing a beat, to everyone else’s chagrin and fond amusement. 
He decides that having the ability to make you laugh, getting to watch your eyes sparkle with amusement and hearing the sounds of your joy is music to his ears, and is one of his favourite things. 
Wrecker is your number one protector. Not in a toxic, over protective way.
Even though he’s only got one functioning  eye, chances are he’s still got more vision than you, so he’s taking it upon himself to be the working set in this relationship, meaning he’s always watching out for you.
If you’ve got a guide dog, the first time he encounters it, he might have gone to pet it, but, before he did, he sees the do not interact sign, and stops short, quickly pulling back and apologizing. 
He asks questions, just to make sure he understands why it’s important, and after you explain it, he fully respects the boundaries and never forgets them, to which you are immensely thankful.
He doesn’t understand why you’re so grateful for him just doing the decent thing, until you tell him that a lot of people understand that you’re not supposed to pet the dog, but will either do it anyways, thinking that if you can’t see them doing it and they do it silently, you won’t notice, or they’ll talk in a distracting way to the animal, which is sometimes worse, and equally as distracting for the dog to work through.
This angers him, that they would take advantage of your blindness in such a disrespectful manner, and because you’ve explicitly told him that distracting your dog could potentially put you in danger, under the right circumstances.
From then on, he’s always watching.
If someone is petting your dog while it’s working, or trying to distract it, he’s right there, towering over them and glaring with his arms crossed, not so subtly pointing at the do not pet sign until they back away, stuttering and flustered.
If a child runs up to pet it, he’ll much more gently intercept them, crouching down on the ground to quietly explain to them the rules. In your experience, children are often much more respectful than adults, and watching him interact so kindly with them melts your heart every time.
Wrecker is tall. Standing at 6 feet six, it makes him not the most ideal guiding companion.
If he’s guiding you himself, sometimes, unintentionally, his elbow might knock against your head, for which he is immediately aware of, and instantly apologetic. 
He will always stop, large hands gently cradling the sides of your face as he looks you over, worried that even the slightest bump from him could leave a bruise. Regardless of what he finds, though, he’ll always lean down, dropping a kiss to your forehead with a soft, “m sorry, meshla.”
His solution to this problem, however, is a tad bit unconventional. 
When confronted with a situation where it’s just more efficient for him to guide you, for example, a street blocked off by construction, taped off areas and pylons everywhere, instead of offering you something like his hand or his wrist to hold, he simply reaches down, scoops you up into his arms and carries you over his shoulder until you’ve both cleared the obstacles together, you letting out a surprised squeak and giggling all the while.
Wrecker finds you beautiful, every day, all the time, and he is constant with his reminders of that.
As a blind person, it can be more difficult to coordinate a whole outfit, look, hair, and make up. He is so appreciative, and loves if you do that. But, if you’re one of those blind people who never learned how to do make up, who isn’t as confident in their sense of personal style, and you feel a little bit self-conscious about how much, or how little, in your opinion, effort you put into your look when you’re going out on a date with him, he will quickly assuage your fears the minute he catches wind of them.
He’s very good at detecting those days where you’re not feeling good about your appearance, just intuitively sensing when you’re having a bit of an off day, and when you could use a reminder of how beautiful and precious you are to him. He knows he can’t magically change your mind.
But he can  tell you about all the things he finds attractive about you, every day, if you need that reminder.
He’ll tell you of each one, each part of you that he finds beautiful beyond belief, while taking the time to softly caress and kiss each one, with whispered affirmations of “Such a pretty little thing,” and “You’re perfect, cyar, absolutely perfect.”
And if that’s not enough, he’ll keep going, keep moving downwards until he can look up at your beautiful face, watching from in between your parted thighs as your lips form equally beautiful noises for him.
*
Crosshair🩷 
It isn’t that Crosshair doesn’t want to help you. It’s just that, honestly, he’s a little bit hesitant to, in the beginning, fearing that he might overstep, because he places such a high value on choice, and respects your independence and autonomy to much to question you and your abilities.
He trusts that, if you need his help, you’ll come to him and ask. He also trusts that you’ve been living with blindness for a long time, maybe even since birth, and you’re aware enough to know your boundaries and limits, trusting that you’ll advocate when you need him to help with one of those limits.
Just because he doesn’t help you as much in the physical sense, does not mean he isn’t your number one advocate, because he absolutely is. 
For example, if you’re a guide dog user, and you both are going out together using a ride sharing app. If the driver refuses to let you in they’re speeder because of your service dog, he will wait patiently for you to explain, analyzing every micro expression of the driver and knowing when they’re still not listening to you, and he will step in without hesitation.
Wearing his most menacing glare, and in a voice that is deadly calm, he will absolutely read them the riot act. He knows every law regarding your guide dog, and knows just how properly to phrase them in a way that will make the driver scared, usually when he mentions the 5000 credits fine they could be sued for not denying you access 
He’s also keeping his eyes out to make sure that no one distracts your dog, and isn’t afraid to directly confront anyone who tries, saying something snarky like, “You know, maybe you’re the one who needs a guide dog, if you can’t read the don’t pet me sign that’s right in front of your face,” paired with a signature eye roll.
They always back away stuttering, and it always makes you laugh, even as you gently rebuke him, saying “Cross, that was a bit rude.”
He scowls, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you against him as he responds.
“And you, sweet girl, are too nice,” he purrs lowly against your ear. But, with the way that he begins to nuzzle at your neck, you don’t really think it bothers him that much.
If you’re one of those blind people who feels like asking for help is just burdening other people with your problems, and would rather risk facing the consequences by trying to do something yourself, rather than ask for help, he will find out, and he will not be pleased in the slightest. 
Your stubbornness is something that he loves about you. But if it has a tendency to go too far, especially if you’re putting yourself in harms way, that adoration will quickly turn to frustration.
For example, one time, you both were staying at a place that had a glass topped stove. 
These things are so inaccessible for blind people, it’s not even funny. But rather than admit defeat and let him cook dinner, you decided that you could figure it out, and gave it your best shot. 
Your best shot ended with you trying to line up the pot with the burner, and very quickly, receiving a searing burn on your hand from touching the heat. 
You had not anticipated it getting that hot that fast , and as you quickly pull your hand away, tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you let out a pained hiss.
““what are you doing?”
He had materialized behind you from seemingly out of nowhere, voice a silky, yet tensed coil as he reaches around you carefully, quickly flicking off the burner before long, dextrous fingers wrap  around your wrist, still gentle, even as he insistently pulls your hand away from where you’ve been clutching it to your chest, eyes keenly examining the burn with a soft frown on his face.
Wordlessly, he guides you over to the kitchen sink, hand on the small of your back, turning the water on cold and carefully placing your injured hand beneath the stream. 
Only then does he come to stand in front of you, placing both of his hands on your shoulders, his expression hard as he looks down at you. 
“What were you thinking, cyar?” He grits out, voice almost a growl as he tries to understand. “Why didn’t you wait for me? I could have helped and prevented this,” he gestures to your hand. “From happening.”
You blame the trembling in your voice on the lingering throbbing ache in your hand.
“I’m s sorry. I I thought that I could figure it out. You were busy, and I didn’t want to bother you B because I’m scared that I burden you with all the help I need sometimes and.”
“Stop,” he cuts you off in one quick, decisive syllable, and you instantly fall silent.
He tilts your chin up with one hand, guiding your eyes to look at him. His lips form a thin line when he sees the glimmer of unshed tears there. When he next speaks, his voice is still firm, but there is an underlying gentleness and softening in his tone. It has lost its hard edge, and it’s protective bite.
“You are not a burden, to anyone, but especially to me.”
“But,” you try to interject, but he easily silences you, taking your face in both of his hands and cradling it gently.
“Shh, cyar, listen to me,” he says, his voice a quiet command.
“If you are a burden, then you are my burden. In the same way that I am yours.” He takes your uninjured hand in his, relaxing his fingers against yours,  allowing you to feel it’s tremors.
Oh.
It’s been so long since his hand has shaken like this. He’s worked so hard to try and work through this particular trauma, and though it hasn’t completely gone away, it only begins to tremble during moments of high stress. You flush with shame, realizing that this moment of high stress is completely on you.
“I know what you’re doing, and stop it,” he says, voice stern, squeezing your hand in a silent warning. “Look at me, cyar’ika,” he continues, voice softening.
When you do, he continues. “If we are each other’s burdens, then we take care of each other, together. Do you understand me?”
You nod, actually stunned into complete silence at his proclamation.
“Good,” he says, voice softening further. He leans forward, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips, fingers gently caressing the side of your neck as he pulls back.
He gives you a playful nudge as he smirks.
“Don’t ever try something like that again, cyar,” he quips with a scowl. “Your eyes already don’t work, and if you lose one of your hands, you’re completely fucked.”
All the levity of the moment vanishes, and it ends with your face pulling into a smile, a soft laugh falling from your parted lips as he watches you, eyes filled with adoration.
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sinfulsalutations · 2 years ago
Text
𝕕𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒 𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕣 𝕤𝕞𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕤/𝕠 ⋆*・゚𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕓𝕒𝕕 𝕓𝕒𝕥𝕔𝕙 + 𝕔𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕣𝕖𝕩
➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛ ɴꜰꜱᴡ, ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ꜱᴘɪᴄʏ ɪꜱ ᴀʟʟ ɪᴍ ꜱᴀʏɪɴɢ.
⋆ ★ ɪ ꜰᴇᴇʟ Qᴜɪᴛᴇ ᴏʙʟɪɢᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴀꜱ ɪ ᴀᴍ 4’11 ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ꜰᴜɴɴʏ ɪ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴛᴏ ʟɪᴛᴇʀᴀʟʟʏ ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ɪɴ ꜱᴡ, ᴀɴᴅ ꜱɪɴᴄᴇ ᴍʏ ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ʙᴏʏꜱ ᴀᴛᴍ ᴀʀᴇ ꜰᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ ɢɪᴀɴᴛꜱ ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴀʀᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ ɪ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ɪ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀᴅ ʙᴀᴛᴄʜ+ʀᴇx ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ꜱʜᴏʀᴛ/ꜱᴍᴀʟʟ ꜱ/ᴏ! ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇʟʏ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ
➼ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ
⋆ ★ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3 ⋆*・゚ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀᴍ
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Hunter
Despite being the only one out of clone force 99 who’s the average clone trooper height, he still is immensely taller (and broader, to be frank, excluding that little slutty waist) compared to you.
It strokes his ego quite a bit
Maybe a bit more if you like to point it out.
It ties into any sort of praise you shower onto him, really. If you tell him all about how tall and big and strong he is, you’re practically begging for him to pounce on you.
Hunter’s just whipped for you like that.
Despite that, he finds your height to be really cute.
It’s not everything he likes about you, of course, but it just ties it all in; it's just an aspect he adores sometimes.
He tries not to do it anymore because he wants to be helpful, but occasionally he’ll sit back and watch you struggle to reach something high up. The grin that spreads across his face could lift the entire galaxy’s spirits.
If you realize, you put a hand on your hip and pout.
“Really?”
He hides his red face and shakes his head.
“I’m sorry, mesh’la. You just looked so cute.”
When you huff again he reaches for the object you were trying to reach and hands it to you like it was a delicacy on a silver platter.
Whenever you're in a position like that, where your chests almost touched and he looked down at you, you enjoyed going on your tip toes and pecking his chin affectionately.
“I’m adorable, aren’t I?”
Tech
At first, even as you start a relationship with him, it is simply an objective fact about you.
He’ll make slightly offhanded comments about it, but you know he doesn't mean any harm when he says them.
“I should probably handle this instead since it would be easier for me to complete. Considering our heights.”
“Please don’t climb over the shelves, dear. You might hurt yourself.”
Eventually, the comments stop, you don’t really know why.
You do realize though he will always offer help in a situation where you are vertically challenged and his comments aren’t meant to be demeaning.
The height difference between you two, however, shifts from a focus on your height to his.
Tech knew that you gained a sense of enjoyment from the contrast in appearance, but didn’t realize how much you liked it.
And you liked it a lot.
Something about Tech completely towering over you while ever so slightly asserting his intellectual superiority rubs you in all the right places.
You tell him about it, and he tries his best to nod it off. Emphasis on tries.
He subconsciously begins trying to catch you in positions where he’s physically overwhelming; dwarfing your body into his and enveloping you into him wholly.
He doesn't notice hes doing it, but you do; oh you do.
You won't point it out. Both of you get off on his little power trips.
Wrecker
Let’s be real, this man has a raging size kink.
Of course, even if you’re average height or above, you’re minuscule compared to Wrecker. But man, if you’re short, petite, etc.? Wrecker is GONE. Deceased. Done.
He simply will never be able to get over how cute you are.
And maybe you feed into it as well.
Call him ‘big guy’ or give him that doe-eyed look like you’re in awe of a giant overtop you and you won’t walk for the next week.
He gets just a tad bit feral.
Sometimes, he finds it more comedic.
Like when you topple over trying to reach something on a high-up shelf.
You’ve become quite embarrassed about always needing assistance from Wrecker, especially because of all the teasing you’ve gained from his brothers.
So despite him always being fully willing to help at any time, you get a little too flustered for your liking and try to do the tasks yourself.
And yet, this doesn’t solve your problem. You continue to fall straight on your ass every time.
His laughter fills the entire ship.
“I must’ve turned invisible” he toddles over and opens his arms out wide. “Your footstool is right here!”
You can’t help but facepalm.
Other times, he finds it arousing.
Like when you press up against his stomach and chest, your chin resting up so you stared at him with wide eyes.
His whole body could completely swallow you whole in those moments.
How could he not get a boner?
BONUS: You’re small enough to huddle up on his lap and fit your entire body onto him with your arms loosely wrapped around his neck. Yes, those are the best cuddles. Yes, you both fall asleep instantly.
Crosshair
I'm sorry, but if you didn't think Crosshair was gonna tease you, he’s not your man.
On a day he's being especially pesky, every other sentence that comes out of his mouth is commenting on your height.
Crosshair loves seeing you frustrated, he thinks you look cute like that. He's like a schoolboy in that way, but don't say that. He’ll get all pissy and refuse to talk to you for a few hours.
Yep. Definitely a whiny schoolboy.
Will use the top of your head as an armrest and won’t protest if one of his brothers captures a photo of you two in that position.
Even if you're sitting next to each other he’ll find an opportunity to prop an elbow on your shoulder or head. it never fails to make him chuckle darkly to himself.
But if you ask him to help you reach something high up, he’ll do it wordlessly. Save the teasing for after.
if you blush furiously and scold him, he’ll only smirk and if no one else is around, give you a peck on your forehead.
“Can’t stop myself, doll.”
Won't offer help with any vertical challenges despite him being much taller. He’d like to, but in his head, he still thinks that he’ll come out too soft.
He might do it wordlessly and swiftly, even if you don't ask. Perhaps that's his way of showing love.
Echo
He won’t comment on it. Not for a while at least.
This man has had his fair share of body insecurity, and he isn’t so sure if your height is one of yours. He won’t risk that, he cares far too much about you to hurt your feelings inadvertently, or accidentally trigger any association with bad thoughts about yourself with him.
You’re the one to first bring it up, in fact.
It came out when you had started to get a little tipsy at Cid’s, and were talking about the batch’s physiques.
“And Echo, I know there’s wrecker over there but…” you cradled his face and looked up at him with awe, more adoration than he’d ever felt in his life. “You’re just so big and tall… and strong” with your last word, a small, whimpered moan followed.
Oh, if you were only sober enough to notice how his codpiece rubbed against your stomach harder than usual.
Sure, you got some shit from the boys for it the day after when you sobered up, but you didn’t regret saying it.
Finally, you got out of your head and told Echo how much you loved your height difference.
He stumbles a bit at first with your confession, but once the two of you go to continue doing something else, you notice how his chest puffs out just a little bit more and his shoulders are more squared up.
He always used to help you when trying to reach something high up before, but after that day, every time he does it feels so… purposeful.
It kind of is (he’d never admit it though).
He just can’t get your comment out of his mind.
It’s almost feral how kindred his need gets when you look, feel so much smaller than him.
But he’d never say it.
Actions, however, always speak more than words when it comes to Echo.
Rex
Rex is such an act of service guy, c’mon
He’s the kind of guy to always clean up after himself always if he’s around at your place. Does all the gross, menial tasks in the kitchen. If you fall asleep watching something, he’ll turn it off and carry you to bed.
He’s just such a gentleman, you can’t convince me otherwise.
So of course, if you’re more, ahem, vertically challenged than most, he is there.
He’s not the type to hold off on helping you out, like Hunter or Crosshair, but he might make a couple quips after or just randomly through the day.
“You’re so cute like this.”
“Aw, cyare, ‘m sorry you need my help. Can’t imagine living like this every day.”
It's hard to get mad at his comments, though.
Not when he’s always there the second you need him.
Though, when the two of you are more… intimate, the size difference comes into play more.
He doesn’t really have a size kink like Wrecker does, but Rex would be lying if his dick hasn't throbbed seeing the way his hand completely covered yours while going to town.
But he’s just so sweet about it; you’ve seen the way he looks at you in moments like those, with pure awe and revel, it makes you feel so loved and protected.
He could never make you feel otherwise.wise.
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dreamswithghosts · 2 years ago
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Bad Batch x One Bed Trope
Prompt: You and the Bad Batch were on a mission and things went differently than planned. You and [Insert Desired Clone] got separated from the rest of the batch. You were told that they had escaped off-world and would return in one rotation to come and get you two. So you two find a motel to camp up in. Tired from the mission you accept the first room that was available and the cheapest. You two go to the room only to discover that there is only one bed. How will this pan out with the two of you have been pining for each other but not realizing it?
Notes: This is Gender Neutral friendly!
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Hunter
Both of you just stand by the door shocked for a moment, taking in the room. 
"I can sleep on the floor if you want." Hunter offered first, throwing his bag down on the floor at the foot of the bed. 
You instantly shake your head not wanting the higher-ranking sergeant to be sleeping on the floor, "No, I can't let you do that. I can sleep on the floor." 
"Don't worry about me, I've slept in worse places." Hunter was not budging. 
You had to come up with a compromise realizing he was going to be stubborn about this. You quickly realize that no matter what, you will be sleeping on the bed. 
But what if it wasn't just you in the bed? 
"Well, the bed is quite big. What if we both sleep in the bed?" 
Hunter looks genuinely surprised, but reluctantly agrees that was probably the best solution. 
Both of you get ready to go to sleep crawling into bed and keeping a respectful distance between the two of you. 
When the lights go out, your anxieties from today's mission start to grow in your mind. 
It doesn't take Hunter long to realize you are nowhere near falling to falling asleep.
"What's wrong?" His voice is quiet as if he had found you after one of your nightmares and the two of you were trying to keep quiet to not wake the others. 
"Do you think the others are okay?" 
"They should be fine."
The two of you talk quietly to each other about the mission and what is to come next. Quietly talking into the late hours of the night about anything and everything. 
His voice slowly calms your nerves and you start finding yourself relaxing. 
After a moment, Hunter spoke softly again, “Can I be honest with you?”
“Always.”
Hunter reached out into the darkness for you without any more words and quietly pulled you closer to him. 
You were surprised at first, but you trust him enough to wrap his arms around you and hold you close to his body. 
“I’ve wanted to do this since we first met you.” He buried his nose into the nape of your neck, his arms wrapped around your torso as your legs tangled with his. 
You smile into the night, finding his hands and entwining his fingers with yours. You pressed yourself back up against him, “Me too.”
You were quick to fall asleep in his arms, Hunter falling asleep just as fast, holding onto you. 
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Wrecker
"Oh, this could be fun!"
You are stunned by Wrecker's excitement that there is only one bed in this room, "What?"
"This can be like one of those sleepovers you told me about! We could stay up late and eat snacks and watch movies!"
He somehow made you laugh and feel a bit better about the whole experience. He was moving around the room excitedly putting all the gear away. 
"I'll go get some snacks! You stay here and start picking out a movie." 
"Be careful, please. They might still be out looking for us." You voiced your concern, considering you two just got finished with a mission. 
He just gave you a dazzling smile, telling you he would be fine. 
You got ready for bed, staying to one side respectfully looking through the movies to watch. 
Wrecker returned quickly, his arms full of all kinds of different foods.
He practically jumped on the bed, the frame groaning from his weight making you laugh. 
"What do you want to watch?" You asked him as he settled himself in the bed, laying out all of the snacks he managed to get. 
"Something fun." 
You nodded, eventually picking out a movie for the two of you to watch and grabbing from Wrecker's food pile to snack on your own.
Not long into the movie, you felt Wrecker's strong hands on your hips, pulling you into his lap. 
You weren't surprised at the physical affection, Wrecker being the one to show that type of affection the most. 
You relaxed into his lap, your head resting back on his shoulder. 
His warmth quickly pulled you to sleep, with Wrecker turning the movie off and wrapping his arms around you, and falling asleep with you.
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Tech
You were stunned when you saw only one bed in the room. 
Tech took a moment looking between the bed and his holo pad. 
“Well, I certainly wasn’t expecting this.” He stated, moving to put down everything the two of you had. 
“Do you think one of us should sleep on the floor?”
Tech paused what he was doing looking at the bed, “I don’t think that is necessary. The bed is plenty big for the both of us to have our own respective space.” 
You were honestly surprised he was so calm about the entire thing, watching him go back to putting away and organizing your and his things. 
"You don't have a problem with sleeping in the same bed with me?" 
"Why would I?" 
You had no more words for him and decided that this was okay. So you got ready for bed, settling yourself in with your own holo pad. 
Tech joined you not long, the both of you staying in silence with your own devices.
"Hey look at this," Tech said after a moment, leaning over to show you what was on his device. 
You found yourself smiling and scooting closer to Tech in the bed, "That actually reminds me of something." 
You show him something on your holo pad and before you know it the two of you are quietly sharing information with each other. 
Throughout the conversation of showing each other things from your devices, you realized the two of you got close enough in bed where his shoulder was pressed up to yours. 
Deciding to make a small leap of faith, you laid your head on his shoulder. Tech was unphased, still currently showing you what had interested him on his holo pad.
You don't know when, but you fell asleep like this, with your head on his shoulder. 
You woke up hours later to discover that Tech had fallen asleep as well. His arms wrapped around you with his cheek resting on top of your head. 
His holo pad was squished between the two of you. 
You smile feeling completely warm and comfortable, minus the hard device digging into your skin.
You carefully pull it out from between the two of you, laying his holo pad on the bed next to your own. 
You happily cuddled up closer to Tech, wrapping your arms around him and pressing your cheek against his chest.
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Echo
Both of you pause for a moment, staring at the room with only one bed. 
"I guess we can both sleep in it or would you rather I sleep on the floor?" Echo spoke after a while, "I don't mind. I've slept in worse places." 
You shook your head instantly saying no to Echo sleeping on the floor. He had already been through so much, the idea of him sleeping on the cold hard floor did not sit well with you. 
"We can sleep together. The bed is big enough." You offered. 
"Are you sure?" Your comfort was obviously the main concern for you. 
"Yeah. I'm fine." You assured him.
The two of you settle into the bed, keeping a respectful distance between the two of you. 
Echo ends up finding the holo drama the two of you have been watching when you got some downtime. The two of you decide to watch at least one episode. 
“Oh come on. This is a classic trope. Watch, because she’s now in the hospital, he is suddenly going to tell her his feelings about her.”
“Actually I think he’s going to try to tell her, but then feel guilty because she’s hurt. So he decides against telling her. Especially if there are family members in the room.” 
You ended up being right, the both of you softly laughing over the whole thing. 
You started to feel cold, wrapping the blanket around you and starting to shiver, and Echo noticed.
“Are you cold?” He sounds concerned. You shake your head no, but then your body betrays you and starts to shiver. 
Echo reaches over, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, and pulling you to him. His legs are surprisingly warm, the machinery of his legs under covers staying warm compared to when you’ve felt them out on a mission and they were cold. 
“You’re like a heater.” You muttered instantly curling up against him seeking out his warmth.
“Yeah. It surprised me too. My guess is when I’m covered, the airflow seems to get circulated less thus heat. Almost like if you leave a computer on while running a program that's intensive on the CPU.”
“I guess that makes sense. Have you ever overheated?”
Echo shook his head no. 
The two of you focused back on the holo drama you were watching. Once the first episode was over, Echo asked if you wanted to watch another. 
You fell asleep curled up against Echo’s side with your head on his shoulder watching the second episode. Echo was quick to follow suit with his arms wrapped around you.
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Crosshair
“Well I guess you are going to be sleeping on the floor,” Crosshair teased the second he saw that there was only one bed in the room. 
“What? No! You are the one who’s going to sleep on the floor.” 
“No, I’m going to be sleeping in the bed.” 
“No, I’m going to be sleeping in the bed!”
“Well, I guess we will have to sleep together then,” Crosshair smirked, putting his things away first and then moving to help you, by just taking your things. 
“Fine.” You huffed already tired from the mission today. You would rather have fewer arguments, “Just don’t get handsy with me. I don’t know where you’ve been.”
“Been around more than you have.” 
“Oh, and that makes you a better person?”
Crosshair just snorts in response. He starts getting ready for bed and you decide to follow his lead. 
The two of you get into the bed, keeping a fair distance between each other. 
“Well, goodnight then.” you sigh and turn off the lights, settling yourself in under the covers. You just hear a small grunt from Crosshair.
It takes you a little to fall asleep, but you eventually do. It was a lot faster than normal considering the fact you had another person in the bed with you. 
In the middle of the night, you wake up feeling a lot warmer. Actually, you feel really warm. 
Throughout the night, Crosshair had inched his way over to you, resting his head on your chest and wrapping his arms around your torso. He held onto you like you were a lifeline in his sleep. 
You found yourself smiling and slowly wrapping your arms around him as well, feeling very comfortable with him here like this with you. You quickly fall back asleep, hugging him to your chest.
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kapposuch · 2 years ago
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Domestic!Bad Batch x reader (headcannons)
Warnings: Absolutely none! just utter fluff!
I love these kids, I've adored them since I laid eyes on them and god I want the best for these sweethearts. It's been a long time since I've done anything like this, so if you have constructive criticism for me, please lay it on me! I'd really appreciate it!
Here's the bad batch! hope you enjoy
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Hunter
He's very much not used to a domestic setting, especially not one he's sharing with you
but god he wants to do right by you and make sure he doesn't mess things up
constantly cleaning up tiny messes he makes, even if it's not a mess. it's as if he doesn't want anyone to know he's even staying with you. it's not like that, he swears! just military habits
"What's with the state of the Marauder then?"
"You think Wrecker can keep things tidy for ten minutes?"
He's an early bird due to his military routine, so he's often up long before you. expect to be tucked in tight with a cup of caf or tea on its way to you when he hears you stir
but sometimes, he just likes to sit in the absolute bliss of freedom. even if it's for a short time before he has another mission with his brothers, he'll relish the contact and hold you close, cradling you like a babe.
moments like this make him feel alive. and it's all he ever wants.
on the rare occasion you wake up first, seeing him sprawled out on one side of the bed, barely covered by your sheets with unkempt hair and a missing bandana makes you melt. an absolute sight to behold, so you'll lay there and take it all in while you have the chance before those unflattering blacks are back on
no matter whats happening, where you are, or what you're doing around your apartment, he will make it his mission to be in your personal space. he wants to make sure nothing happens, and fears the loss if he steps away for just a moment
constant kisses. Hunter relishes in physical touch, and will always place a kiss on your temples, forehead, hands, cheeks, nose, lips, whatever he can reach the fastest. you'll never forget how devoted this man is to you.
even if he's wearing his whole gear and hasn't taken his head piece off yet, he'll delicately bump it to the top of your head if he's got a good enough angle.
he'll melt if you kiss his helmet. maybe he'd consider asking you to put on some lipstick and throw a big ole smooch onto the filter by his cheek so he can take your love with him to battle
"mark my helmet, would you mesh'la? I want to take you with me while I can"
oh no, your heart is missing, where in the galaxies could it have gone?
sweet angel
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Wrecker
Where do I even begin?
it won't be the tidiest arrangement by far, but he will always do his best to pick up after himself, even if it's not very often.
arrange a day where you both tidy, with music in the background, and he'll be so gung-ho about helping you clean up! with the occasional dance number during, of course
he'll give you a spin and a dip, and a big ole smooch! very very smily man, god take care of his heart
words of affirmation turn this sweet giant into a puddle of mush, please compliment him
you'll pick up on a few mandoan terms, and will throw them around here and there while you're busy
"Hand me a towel would you, cyar'ika"
"can you grab me that mug from the top shelf, ner cyare?"
his face will light up, eyes well with tears, and he'll scoop you up into a bone-crushing hug, waddle to the couch, and sit with his face buried in your neck, simply repeating the phrases you say in his head. he'd do anything for you to continue getting these sweet words
he's a little bit of an idiot, so sometimes you have to reassure him if you make a joke that he doesn't quite get. you find it endearing, but he worries you think he's not that smart
you can cup his cheek, stare into his eyes, and praise his wonderful mind
movie nights with mantell mix are a staple for this man's date nights. you'll never escape his embrace while watching movies, but you don't mind. he keeps you warm and safe
sleeping arrangements are as such: you're a little spoon. deal with it. he finds it most comfortable, though some nights he'll roll over and will wake up feeling your forehead on his back, and arms wrapping as far across his body as possible. he finds it utterly adorable, and loves it just as much as sleeping with you on his chest
as long as you're by his side, so that when you wake, you can share kisses and make a cup of caf together for the day ahead
"Don't know what I did t' deserve ya... But I ain't lettin' go. Don't even think 'bout it, cyare."
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Tech
clean. freak.
everything should be where it belongs after its used, and even you yourself have to get used to it if you're going to be accommodating his stay for a little while
of course, you accommodate willingly, to which he will always attempt to thank you for it, in his Tech ways
anything broken? not anymore
acts of service make his wizard brain hum with glee, so whenever you have an issue you'd like help with, he's already chomping at the bit and listing all the things he'll need to fix whatever ailes your mind
sleeping beside this man could not be more of a rollercoaster
sometimes he wants to cuddle up close, but other times he does indeed need his space. you've made a promise to always ask and find out what he's looking for, and this man practically melts like putty in your hands. god you're an angel in disguise for this troubled soul
with cuddle time, he'll place his hands where they're most comfortable. if they land somewhere spicy, it's simply because of his arm positioning. he's definitely a big spoon and absolutely relishes in the fact that he can make you feel safe. he doesn't mind if you're the only person in the galaxy that depends on him for safety, because he wouldn't have it any other way.
other nights when he needs his space, he'll lay beside you, fingers laced with yours, and wait for you to fall asleep comfortably. if you're talking for a little while, he pushes eye contact. it's his way of apologising for the lack of snuggles, which is equally taxing, but he wants to remind you that you are his world
absolutely a tea lover, and would just about pass away if you brought him a mug of leaf juice on a morning
always sneaking peeks at you, out of pure adoration. he thinks he hasn't been caught, but you caught him long ago, oogling at you fresh out of the shower wrapped in a towel
nice try Hun, maybe next time
hes leaving for a mission? he will break his internal rules and make a mess of your bed, filling it with blankets, pillows, and any soft items he can find. if he has a spare set of blacks, or even some clothes you bought for him as a casual wardrobe, he will make sure it smells like him so you've got extra comfort until he gets back
always telling you that he'll be back in -insert approximate date- but will forever promise to do his best to get back earlier
he won't call you call you petnames, but the way he says your name is so endearing. he says it with passion, and it melts your heart
"It won't take long. Around two weeks if all goes to plan, which is extremely unlikely due to the nature of the mission. But I do insist, I'll come back to you soon, y/n."
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Echo
this absolute darling boy has been through the lot
Echo is a tough one, considering he isn't to big on making himself at home anywhere. he's pretty cut and run nowadays but for you? god he'll do his best
he keeps relatively tidy, making sure to help out with the dishes if you ask, or if you're looking pretty tired. he doesn't want you to push yourself when he could easily do it himself
he absolutely shoves a sponge on his scomp. do not @ me about this, imagine the glass cleaning efficiency of this man, god
he's a vivid enjoyer of quality time. while he can't exactly 100% convince himself that you find him comfortable enough to lay with or cuddle, he will always do his best to let you sit where you wish
he'll often ask that you sit on his right side, so he can hold you in his arm and rub gentle circles into your hip or waist as he gets comfy
he is a sleep avoider. you know he's got a lot in his head, and always wants to keep busy, which you're usually fine with, but when it's time to sleep, you'll always do your best to ramble him to sleep. god, this sweet man needs someone to consume his thoughts to ward off the nightmares
you're a big spoon most nights. not because Echo doesn't like spooning you, because he does, he absolutely adores it, but most often, Echo needs that sort of safety net. having familiar arms and weight around him will help him doze, and it'll chase away the bad thoughts clouding his sleep
when you're lil spoon, he will always nuzzle his face into your hair. the smell of your shampoo, and just you in general, is so comforting.
whenever he wakes up in a cold sweat, he feels bad for dampening the sheets, but as you've learned to wake with him in these situations, you always shush him and suggest he take a warm shower while you switch the sheets out for lovely warm ones
echo in a towel. you insist he makes you hot and bothered, and he does believe you every time you say it. he's starting to believe it, and by god you're helping his self esteem more and more each time he stays with you
before he deploys with the batch on a mission, he sits and stares at you, hand cupping your cheek, eyes flickering back and forth between your own
he likes to drink all of you in while he has the chance, and if ever he's thirsty, all he has to do is remember you
you're the last thing he wants to remember if ever he's faced with something anywhere close to Skako again.
"Ner mesh'la... I'll come back for your eyes alone. wait for me, please"
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Crosshair
Where to begin?
Nightmare. he can be like having a teen in your home sometimes. snarky comments and sarcasm up the wazoo, but each one of them threatens to get you riled up
he's not the cleanest, but he will keep things in order a majority of the time, helping out with moving things and taking the bins out whenever you need, just so he can keep tabs on you
sharp shooters have sharp eyes, and his are trained like a hawk on you
he isn't the most affectionate, mostly expressing his love to you through teasing and sarcasm.
he likes commenting on your height, or making remarks on your handiwork with whatever you might be doing, though he never intends to be rude about it
sometimes when he's had an iffy day, or he's out of sorts, he'll wander up behind you and snake his arms around your waist, before he nose dives into your neck
he never does much without your explicit consent, but does cast glances often
let's face it. he does not care about what he's wearing around you. including nothing
"Cross- can you please at least put your briefs on?"
"Can you please keep your eyes off me? Cyar'ika, I thought you knew better."
sleeping goes as follows; if you want to spoon, he'll spoon, and hug you close in his sleep
if you want to lay on your back, your chest becomes free real estate.
oh, those are some comfy looking pillows you have there. big, small, or nothing at all, it's a pillow, and it's his
head on chest, hand on waist, absolute KO. he is not waking up
Cross, on the odd occasion, can feel vulnerable around you. when he's away from his work, he'll talk to you about some of the things that happened, and he knows you'll listen to every word, which he can't express his appreciation for
while you're not allowed to touch his rifle, he'll let you sit by him while he cleans it. in fact, he'll appreciate the company. he always does
"I'm off, cyare. Behave while I'm gone, and we won't have problems."
What a tease
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sadiecoocoo · 9 months ago
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Wait a minute… who’s the youngest in the bad batch? I mean it’s technically not omega…
I always thought it was wrecker cuz I mean… look at him.
But now I see a bunch of people saying it’s crosshair and I think it’s so funny because it makes a lot of sense but also why does he look the oldest then 😭
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skellymom · 4 months ago
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HEADCANNON SOUNDTRACK
FOR MY BAD BATCH LOVELIES
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youtube
"Heaven's Earth" by Delerium ft Kristy Thirsk
"This is seduction of the highest order"
Sorry, I use Youtube instead of Spotify (which is less buggy on certain devices...and Spotify has come under some scrutiny as of late...)
(TBB Pinterest Credit by Stardust-divider credit @cafekitsune and @4ngelic-wh1spers)
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Lyrics:
''I know you want me
But caution inspires
Your tamed indifference
Won't challenge me
Could it, could it be
Love's what you deny me?
This spoiled seduction Intoxicates thee,
So balanced on my halo
You long secretly
Could it, could it be
Love's what you deny me?
Don't deny yourself
'Cause I know what you want
You can't deny me
We'll be together
So try to run, love
But you won't get away
Could it, could it be
Love's what you deny me?''
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clownery-and-fuckery · 1 year ago
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I want you all to know that Tech holds things in his sleep like its his datapad. Hunter looks like a corpse, Wrecker can't actually stand it- dude hops whenever he finds Hunter sleeping because he goes SILENT. Crosshair kicks and moves in his sleep so much he either needs to sleep on the edge of the cuddle pile or held down. Echo sleeps with his eyes open. Omega snores like Wrecker
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box-of-chaooos · 1 year ago
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Someone wanted me to draw wreck from the headcannon post about rob!
Here he is, he’s a grey Rex rabbit with a white tail blue eyes (like post void rob) and a diamond shape on his back which sort of matches robs hole in his torso
He likes melons just as much as rob does and he’s messy about it (based on my rabbit lol)
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hsrblake · 2 years ago
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Yandere Types The Bad Batch Plus Hemlock Is
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Hunter Clingy Yandere Type
Is too emotionally dependent on their darling. They’re emotionally fragile requiring constant attention and support. They’re the type to constantly phone and text their darling, and they can feel overwhelmed if the subject of their clinginess isn’t around. They work to insert themselves into their beloved’s personal life and become very angry when their darling is not available to them. Their smothering is draining.
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Crosshair Possessive Yandere Type
Needs to own and dominate their darling. They become aggressive if their ownership is threatened and grow angry if their darling makes independent decisions. They want the darling utterly dependent on them and they will remove all of their safety nets to do so: friends and family members who support them, financial assets and savings, much needed resources, etc. 
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Tech Overprotective Yandere Type
Is inclined to safeguard, shield, or carefully supervise their darling to an obsessive degree. They never leave their darling alone, and they don’t know how to balance their concern with respect for their darling’s independence and freedom. They believe they’re acting in their beloved’s best interest, but they come across as overbearing, bossy, or controlling.
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Echo Delusional Yandere Type
Holds the belief or impressions that their darling already loves them, which is typically contradicted by reality. They take their darling’s actions the wrong way if they do something out of kindness, the yandere will think it’s out of love. If their darling says they don’t love the Yandere, they’ll think it’s all lies, or they’re darling is just shy. Their love distorts the reality they perceive. 
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+ Wercker Obsessive Yandere Type
Is fixated their darling is the only thing on their mind, and it’s taking over. The obsessive yandere is a prisoner to their own thoughts. Their obsession leads to poor eating, sleeping habits and withdrawal from society. They’re the type to spend so much time fantasising about the relationship they could have and how it might evolve: that first meeting, a rescue scenario, being the one person their darling trusts with their most intimate secrets, an instant bond and connection, sexual fantasies, etc. This is typically the type stalkers fall into.
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Hemlock Manipulative Yandere Type
Will exercise unscrupulous control and influence over their darling. This is the type of yandere were their relationship with their darling will appear normal. If their darling is already in a relationship they will use a position of trust to create wedges between in that relationship. And once they are together the yandere will do everything to stop them from leaving, from encouraging codependence to using their darling’s secrets and weaknesses against them.
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s-e-v-e-n-24 · 2 years ago
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Officially gone insane
Found family turned my brain to mush
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Anyway have some doodles that were Not supposed to get this much
35 notes · View notes
sharpescratch · 5 months ago
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As a follow up to this - I’m also convinced that Crosshair would listen to ‘Another One Bites The Dust’ as he’s casually sniping from a rooftop
You can’t convince me that Hunter wouldn’t have blasted ‘Wanted Dead or Alive’ in the Marauder at some point
83 notes · View notes
sinfulsalutations · 2 years ago
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𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕚'𝕞 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 ⋆*・゚ 𝕔𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕠𝕡𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕖𝕔𝕙
➼ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ☆ ᴛᴇᴄʜ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
➼ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ ☆ ᴀ ꜱɪᴍᴘʟᴇ ɢᴀᴍᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛᴇᴄʜ ᴀɴᴅ ʜɪꜱ (ɴᴏᴛ-ꜱᴏ) ᴜɴʀᴇQᴜɪᴛᴇᴅ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ ᴛᴜʀɴꜱ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ᴄᴏɴꜰᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ꜰᴇᴇʟɪɴɢꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ.
➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ᴛᴏᴏᴛʜ ʀᴏᴛᴛɪɴɢ, ʙʀᴀɪɴ ᴍᴇʟᴛɪɴɢ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ, ᴛᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ, ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ, (ᴍᴜᴛᴜᴀʟ) ᴘɪɴɪɴɢ, ᴅᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ, ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴋɪꜱꜱ
➼ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ☆ 4.2ᴋ
➼ ᴘᴏᴠ ☆ ᴛʜɪʀᴅ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ
➼ ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ ☆ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ - ꜱᴀᴍ ᴡɪʟʟꜱ, ᴡɪʟʟᴏᴡ - ᴛᴀʏʟᴏʀ ꜱᴡɪꜰᴛ
⋆ ★ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴀᴄᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍʏ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴛᴇᴄʜ ꜰɪᴄꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ꜱᴜᴘᴇʀ ᴡʜᴏʟᴇꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴜ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ᴛᴏ ʜɪᴍ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ꜱᴀʏꜱ ᴀ ʟᴏᴛ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴍᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ʜᴇᴀʟᴛʜ 😐. ɴᴏ ʙᴇᴛᴀ ᴄᴜᴢ ꜰᴜᴜᴜᴜᴜᴜᴜᴜᴄᴋ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜱʜɪᴛ ᴀᴛᴘ ʟᴍᴀᴏ
⋆ ★ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3 ⋆*・゚ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀᴍ
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“Would you rather have to shout all the time, or whisper all the time?”
Her voice cuts like a knife through the emptiness of the cockpit. It’s abrupt, no doubt, but it’s a sweeter tune than the ambient noise of machinery and mechanics. Tech turns to the co-pilot's seat where she reclines, having stolen Echo’s spot when he decided to go with Wrecker and Omega off the ship and explore the planet. She’d chosen to stay with him and Hunter. The reason wasn’t disclosed. 
Her eyes are still glued onto the book in her lap, absentmindedly pinching a page between two fingers while her leg rocks. His datapad drops from where it was lifted to his face as he stares curiously at her image. He can feel his eyes strain; only then he realizes that he’s been staring at a blue screen for far too long. She’s much more soothing, he can conclude rather quickly. Everything about her is rather calming and softer if he were to compare.
“I’m sorry?” He asks softly. She looks up with large eyes and raised eyebrows. Tech tilts his head, probing with his gaze. “You said something, did you not?”
She nods and repeats the question, softer than before. He blinks, still unsure of the context. Her eyes flash away anxiously when he doesn’t answer after a few split seconds.
“I-I’m sorry, that was super random,” She backtracks, sinking back into the cushion of her seat. Tech gapes, panicking as he sees how she hesitates and turns away, and he chokes on his next intake of breath.
“No, no, go on,” He tries to encourage her in a bubbling stammer, leaning forward to grip the back of the seat; the action cages her in ever-so-slightly. She looks back after a brief moment of uncertainty, eyes still wide and wary. “I-I was just surprised. Please, continue?”
His words manage to fix any damage he might've inflicted before; a sweet grin appears over the twist of her lips. Tech grins and takes a mental picture of the scene in front of him, in order to go back and admire her when he has the space and time alone. 
He isn’t very certain where these emotions initially came from, and he is usually so certain about most things. All he can say is that suddenly, or rather slowly building up, he isn’t sure, did they emerge and take up the forefront of his mind. Now when he has nothing else to think of, his thoughts drift to her. The little things he’s picked up on and likes about her. Small details. Interests and dislikes. It’s quite unfamiliar to him, but it isn’t unwelcome. If only he knew how to express these emotions outwardly…
She blinks, slightly dumbfounded, but continues.
“Well uh, personally, I think I would choose whisper,” She says, shrugging. She turns and leans back on the chair. “Shouting, I feel like I would just become a bother.”
Tech nods.
“I agree,” He says. When she gazes back, he realizes the connotation of his words. He takes a panicked breath. “Not that you would be a bother.” He corrects himself. She bites the corner of her lip as she listens, and he looks away for a moment as he talks. “Just that it would be quite annoying if anyone were to shout all the time. And um, I would certainly choose to whisper as well. Though I suppose some might choose to shout… Someone loud like Wrecker, perhaps, or-”
Before he is caught up in his words again, she lets out a warm chuckle. He gazes up, watching her eyes flutter open and close; she turns and leans her chin on the crest of her shoulder. 
“Don’t worry, Tech,” She assures him. “I knew what you meant.”
He blinks.
“Oh,” he mutters absentmindedly. “Right. I’m sorry.” 
Her eyebrows knit together.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” She remarks. 
He shrugs.
“I went on a bit of a tangent,” He says, looking away. The datapad resting on his lap looks very appealing at that moment. But he doesn’t reach for it even as his fingers twitch and curl around his thigh. 
She frowns.
“I wanted you to answer me,” She says. He bargains with his eyes at her insistence before shrugging without much care.
“Well, yes, I suppose you did.” 
When she scoffs, a small part of him panics. But she looks so sweet, so calming and relaxed that it's hard to think that she meant it to be any part rude or mean. 
"Let's play," She says ardently, patting her lap.
Tech nods and tries to appear as casual as he can, even with an invisible pressure tugging at his heartstrings.
"Let's," He responds.
She smiles, readjusting her spot in her seat and crossing her legs.
“Hm... Would you rather always say what you were thinking," She begins, her gaze fixating somewhere else with contemplation in her eyes, "...Or never be able to speak again."
Tech watches intently and doesn't even look away even as she returns her stare back to him.
"Always say what I am thinking," He says, then adds confidently, "I already do that anyway," But he doesn't realize the lie between his words until afterward.
She blinks.
"You do?" She asks.
He flashes a look of faux gawk, acting as shocked at her doubt as best as possible.
"Of course," He tells her, chin dipping down and turning inward. "I say most things that are on my mind."
She frowns and her lips purse together; something flashes over her eyes that he isn't able to decipher.
"Right," She exhales, before leaning back again and breaking the tension between the two. Tech lets out a heavy breath, before saying something to free himself of the stress being inflicted on his head. Talking to her without appearing so infatuated truly is harder than he thought. 
"Would you rather give away all your credits or all your possessions?"
She perks up, eyes brightening the longer he speaks. He can feel his own heart skip a few beats at the sight. 
"I think possessions," She says once he finishes. "Because, well, if you still have credits, you can just buy them again."
Tech nods in agreement. 
"That does make logical sense. Though... what if one weren't in much wealth?"
She hums, looking away to the window as she thinks for a brief moment. 
"I guess then credits. Because possessions than would be important."
"I think that's what I would choose," Tech further explains. Without even realizing it, that pesky habit of his peeks its head; as he continues talking, he raises his pointed index finger to additionally assert his point. "Because our squad doesn't have lots of credits, to begin with. And we couldn't do without the Marauder."
"You could always just continue doing jobs for Cid," She interjects. Tech turns his head. She bites her lip and shrugs. "Y'know, build your balance back up."
He nods softly.
"Exactly."
She asks the next question.
"Would you rather..." She leans in closer to him, only her bottom on the seat now as the rest careens toward the pilot's chair. His eyebrows knit together; he's unsure if she even realizes how she tries to come closer. But he dismisses it; he decides to lean in closer and leans elbows on his knees. "...Fight a blind or deaf Jedi?"
He hums thoughtfully and looks away, but he can feel the gentle gaze she holds on his face. Tech inhales a shaky breath, and he internally curses himself for acting like such a mess.
"I don't think there's much of a difference," He says, looking back. He almost leans away from the surprise that surges through him when he makes striking eye contact. She looks so interested, so thoughtful, and unbearably sweet. He drifts away from her eyes and lower to her parted lips but looks back up again quickly. He doesn't know which one is worse to look at. "Either way, they'll still have a powerful connection to the force and be able to fight competitively even without one of their main senses."
Thankfully, she's the one to break eye contact. He has time to breathe.
"Oh. That makes a lot of sense," She says. Her hands fold over each other and on top of a knee, her legs crossing. "Sometimes I forget how smart you are."
Unknowingly, a pigment of pink dust over Tech's cheeks at the compliment; but she seems to notice. She grins.
"Thank you," He manages to chirp through his tightly sealed lips.
She nods, but it's more of a subtle dip of her chin as she mouths 'You're welcome' without much thought accompanied by a sickly sweet smile. 
"Your turn."
"Huh?"
She huffs playfully, leaning one side of her body on the back of the seat.
"Y'know, ask a question," She says. 
Tech blinks.
"Oh. Right."
He thinks for a brief moment before he speaks again.
"Would you rather... have a one-minute conversation with your past self or your future self?" He asks. 
She hums, putting a finger to her chin and tapping it once, twice, staring off into the unseeable distance.
"Hm..." She says, half genuine, but half to be silly. She drops her hand and points it in his direction, but not to accuse. "Will anything I say be able to affect their decisions?"
Tech raises his eyebrows, actually surprised at the question.
"Good question," He compliments her, "Let's say, no. They don't."
She nods curiously and sinks further onto her side leaning on the seat.
"Then my future self. I'd like to see what I get up to," She explains.
Tech looks thoughtfully at her expression, the way she appears so perfectly poised and relaxed while he feels anything but; itching in his seat, overthinking every single word he says, attempting to perfectly craft and construct sentences all to come off still as a blubbering mess. But he'll try; he really will, if it means he can spend more time with her.
"And if you were able to affect decisions?"
Another look that he doesn't know the origin of washes over her face.
"Past," She says. "I'd tell her not to do certain things. Fix some mistakes, I think."
Tech's head lifts and his mouth drops ever so slightly with the revelation.
"Ah. I see..." He mutters; when she only makes a small noise of approval and goes silent again, looking at him as though he should continue, he lets out a shaky breath before he lets out an unconfined thought. "...Like what?"
She shrugs automatically without actually looking.
"Don't know." Her hand comes to the cushion, softly gripping it without her gaze lingering away from his eyes once. The act is so strangely intimate, yet they're still about a foot apart from each other. "I guess I'd stop myself from entering toxic relationships or making bad decisions..."
He nods in agreement.
"I think I would do the same."
"Would you rather lose your vision or your hearing?" She asks almost immediately after he finishes his sentence, and for once, he gratefully appreciates being interrupted; the silence is hauntingly loud when he is anxious.
Tech thinks for a brief moment before answering.
"Hearing," He answers. "Sight is vital in my field of work. And I could always learn BSL."
She tilts her head, perplexed.
"BSL?"
"Basic Sign Language, yes," He says quickly. Her mouth opens and she leans backward, nodding with understanding.
"That makes sense..." She mutters; he is unsure if it is to herself or to him. Instead, he decides to ask,
"What would you choose?"
She returns to how she sat before and shrugs lazily.
"I'm not sure," She says. "Hearing makes the most sense, I couldn't bear seeing darkness all day. But I love certain sounds. Replaying them over and over in my head wouldn't feel the same."
He lets out a breath through his nose.
"I agree. I couldn't imagine being unable to see your face every day."
Slowly, as the words begin to pour out, he realizes what he's said. His mouth shuts and his eyes widen, looking away with a ghostly realization and goes dead silent.
Her eyebrows knit together and she frowns.
"What?" She mumbles, head tilting as she speaks.
"I'm sorry," He blurts, hiding his face in his hands. Kriff, everything is ruined, he thinks. She'll immediately stop wanting to hang out after this, and he'll have to exile himself in his bunk and never see the light of day again, everything has been ruined by a tiny slip-up that should have never happened due to his great intelligence- "that was extremely inappropriate. I understand if you no longer want to continue this conversation, I-"
"No, no," She interrupts him mid-tangent. He gazes up from where his face is hidden between his palms and tilts his head. She looks extremely perplexed at his freakout, biting the corner of her lip. "I meant that I didn't hear you."
Tech's eyes widen.
"Oh," He states, extremely bland and more of a placeholder for something else. But for a pregnant pause, nothing fills in the blank.
"I, uh."
She lets her bottom lip free from her teeth and slumps backward, loosening the atmosphere.
"-I just said that there are certain things I couldn't bear never seeing again," He finally manages to illustrate. The excuse isn't as eloquent and believable as he'd wanted it to be, but it is suitable enough. She nods and softens up again, crossing her arms over her chest far too suspiciously to Tech's comfort.
"Like what?" She asks.
Tech shakes his head and waves a dismissive hand, almost too offhand.
"It isn't important."
Her lips twist into something between a frown and pursing her lips at this. He tenses under her gaze. But she quickly lets it go, letting out a very subtle eye-roll he barely even catches and dropping her arms back to her side.
"...Okay," She says before gesturing towards him again, encouraging to ask him a question this time.
He obliges, though rather worriedly.
"Would you rather-" He begins, scooting a bit further off his seat to be closer. "-surround yourself with lots of people you only moderately get along with, or one person you get along with perfectly?"
She answers almost too quickly.
"Definitely the latter," She tells him, before adding a little shrug when she continues, "I already sort of do that."
Tech squints his eyes.
"Oh?" 
She turns away and hides her face before rubbing her neck tensely and gritting her teeth. 
"I mean, why else would I stay back with you?" She says.
His eyebrows raise and his mouth drops with the revelation. He bites his lip before he tries to even talk again.
"Well, I thought you might have been tired, or Wrecker didn't require your assistance watching Omega, or..."
She shakes her head.
"Not at all."
He treads carefully over his next words.
"So you enjoy my company?" He asks.
She looks at him rather obliviously, a mysterious look of bewilderment across her face, accompanied by a little grin.
"Of course," She says.
He blinks.
"Oh."
She bites her lip and stifles a giggle. She excitedly readjusts in her seat, awaiting a longer response. But he still sits there, slightly dumbfounded. 
"...I enjoy your company as well," He finally says, eyes brightening under his goggles; though he doesn't know if she can see clearly through the yellow hue they color over the brown hue.
She smiles.
"Thank you," She responds, softly and through pursed lips. He pouts a little.
"That's not something you should thank me for. It is simply a statement," He says as emotionless as possible, looking away to try and compose himself. But he can still feel her stare. It does not help his mission.
"Sure, Tech," She wonders cheekily, crossing her legs and leaning back. "Would you rather be your own boss or work for someone else?"
Tech hums.
"My own boss," He says. "The only person I've ever really reported to is Hunter. Even when we were under the GAR. So I've always had plenty of control."
She nods, leaning her head on two hands as she watches him talk.
"Yeah..." She says absentmindedly, nodding in agreement. He finally looks back at her. "...Though I'd feel lost."
Tech looks at her with a thoughtful, probing gaze.
"Have you ever not been part of a group?" He asks, genuinely curious. 
She keeps eye contact even as she shrugs and bites her lip anxiously.
"Not really," She tells him. "Always working for someone. I'm a follower by nature."
Tech mutters nonsense in curiosity at her response, looking with a strange wonder into her eyes. The certainty in her words was peculiar to him, something he hadn't seen with such a statement. It felt rather odd, almost out of character.
"How do you really know that?" He asks. Her head cranes in his direction, perplexed. 
"What do you mean?"
Tech frowns, looking away to articulate his thoughts clearly, before looking back at her again and speaking.
"If you've never been your own boss, you've never known what it's actually like," He says. "You won't ever know if you are a leader by nature if you just haven't had the opportunity to ever be one."
She raises her eyebrows and turns away, surprise etched over her face.
"...I've never thought of it that way," she finally says before looking back up with newfound clarity. Tech nods to show he's listening but doesn't make direct eye contact with her.
"Lots of clones have dealt with the same complex," he explains his understanding of the topic.
She hums softly from an opened mouth, nodding slowly.
"Guess I am a clone," She jests with a chuckle.
Tech laughs, and a rush of confidence surges through him with his next words.
"Yes, a very pretty one."
She raises an eyebrow, suspiciously eyeing him with disbelief.
"...Right."
And Maker, the insecurities drop in again as if they never left.
"Kriff, I'm sorry," he immediately blurts, waving a hand to get her barely lingering attention. When she looks back, he continues.
"I- apologize, kriff... if I made you uncomfortable, it was a thought that just slipped out-"
Suddenly, a warm melody against his body, she reaches over and places a hand on his forearm. Tech's grounded now and gazes up. Her eyes are soft, fully understanding and relaxed, soothing in a way that steadies his erratic heartbeat. She smiles when he feels him calm down.
"Hey, again, it's fine," she says. He almost looks away with the intensity of her thoughtful, undeservedly kind stare. "I'd like to hear it. You did say you always say what you think."
Tech shrugs weakly in agreement.
"I did say that, yes."
She grins and pats his arm one last time before pulling away, going back to her original spot and gesturing with her chin in his direction.
"Okay. Ask one now."
He thinks for a moment.
"Would you rather have to spend an entire year sharing a room with me, or Wrecker?" He asks.
She gasps.
"Oh, Maker...."
He laughs at her exclamation but falls silent again with a gaping mouth when she continues.
"You, definitely."
He almost reacts with surprise; almost. He's able to suppress the giddy squeak he wants to let out and instead raises his eyebrows.
"I should've picked a harder question," He says, making her laugh softly. He observes her; she still looks away and out the window, somewhere that was nothing even close to spectacular. Her eyes twinkle; but not from lights; she lights them up all herself.
"Would you rather," She begins; her head cocks back to him and an open-mouthed grin spreads over her face. "Have to help me organize my life into a routine, or follow Omega around with no way of stopping her roaming?"
Tech hisses in a sharp breath, shaking his head in faux disapproval. He tries to tease, tries to be relaxed and composed, the perfect example of a casual flirt. He's intelligent enough to know he could never truly be one of those men, but he can try.
"A difficult decision-" She chuckles at his comment. "-But you. Again."
She grins; it's more languid than before, casual but sweet all the same.
"I'm flattered," She says delicately.
His lips purse.
"You should always feel that way when I am around," He responds coolly. He turns away to keep his composure. He's also intelligent enough to know that if he were to look back, any semblance of control or simple understanding of conversation skills would dissolve once his eyes locked on hers.
Yet in the corner of his eye, he can see her head tilt.
"Why?"
He stammers, a gloved hand rubbing at his neck while he coarsely forces out his next words.
"Well, since I said that I usually say what I'm thinking, I must be showering you with compliments all the time..."
His eyes shut tight for a split second, wincing over an invisible punch to the gut. Every single word that comes out of his mouth constitutes him to cuss himself out. Berate his mind for being so flustered and clammy around her. Slowly, he peels one eye open and forces himself to look at her. Her eyes are drowned in confusion, but the corners of her lips slowly curl up with each passing second.
"Oh..." She finally mutters. Her head fixes back upright and she blinks once, twice, eyebrows furrowing with concentration. She's thinking, anyone could tell that, but he doesn't know what. She still grins, like a cocky, yet timid Cheshire cat. "...I don't feel that way."
It's his time to look confused.
"I don't compliment you?" He asks.
Her eyes flit away, then back to him again.
"Well, you do but..."
He shakes his head; her own outward confidence makes him feel less silly trying to act flirtatiously. 
"Then I'm not doing it enough," He asserts with disapproval. "I should keep to my word."
Her eyebrow pushes together and she lets out a confused, but charmed breath.
"It's just would you rather, Tech," she giggles.
Her words almost catch him off guard, but he manages to rebuke her quick-wittedly.
"It's important to keep integrity at all times," He says.
She giggles and leans back, pulling away from his striking eye contact. He winces internally.
"Okayyy," She says. She crossed her legs and folds her hands on top of her knee. "If you say so. What are you thinking then?" 
She beams at him, and so, he says what he thinks in that moment.
"That your smile is enchanting."
Her eyes widen. Immediately she turns away and covers her mouth with her palm, hiding something, perhaps the smile he complimented so genuinely, and shakes her head. He grins at the sight.
"I'm also thinking about how I feel so suddenly incompetent and unable to communicate when you're around," he says.
She snaps her head back to him, eyes timid and soft. He can see the smile and wrinkles in the corners of her eyes. He can't understand why she'd want to hide it in the first place if he said how much he liked it.
"Really?" She asks through her parted fingers, quiet.
He nods entirely sure.
"Yes."
Her eyes flit to his and away again. Wordlessly, she turns completely to face him, scooting closer so her bottom barely lies on the cushion. Her face leans in closer so it lingers over his like a hovering bird over a branch. It's teasing and terrifying, and he shivers when he takes a deep breath in.
She asks, delicately and wary,
"Would you like to hear what I am thinking, Tech?"
"Please," he rasps.
"How much I want to kiss you right now."
His mouth drops, and her smile widens. Bashfully she looks away, wiping her cheek as if her blush would disappear. He watches, still awestruck and positively frozen. 
"...Tech?" She asks. Wordlessly, he scootches forward. His breathing fans over hers; their lips are so close to touching, but he hesitates.
Is this really happening?
Really happening?
"...You want to kiss me," He confirms verbally, and she softly swipes her tongue over her bottom lip, nodding.
"I do," She says.
Tech doesn't realize he's leaned in so close until she finally closes the small gap. A wave of tingling warmth rush over his skin; he shivers pleasantly. Her lips are soft, so gentle, feathery light over his that if he weren't so enraptured he wouldn't feel them. She dives in further, tilting her head to the right to gain better access; his lips mold to hers securely.
This is heaven; he never wants to leave.
She eventually breaks away but doesn't move. Heavy pants fan over his parted lips as they both catch their breath. Her eyes are shut close when his flutter opens. Tech smiles.
"Was it what you thought it would be like?" He asks.
Without missing a beat, she nods with her eyes still closed. 
"Even better," She smiles through it.
Just then, a curse echoes through the cockpit. They snap their heads to the voice; Hunter watches them with disdain and a defeat that couldn't have been from the kiss.
"Dank farrik, couldn't you have waited for a couple more rotations to do that?"
"...Why?"
"Now I owe Wrecker two weeks of Mantell Mix!"
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dreamswithghosts · 2 years ago
Text
Bad Batch x Reader - First Kisses
Notes: This is gender friendly! Also if you have any requests please let me know! It would be for little drabbles like this one. Let me know if you want to be added to the ping list for my writing shenanigans.
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Hunter
You were on a mission with the rest of the boys.
It was supposed to be a straightforward pickup mission, but it all went haywire when the entire place was swarming with Gundarks.
You got separated from the rest of the crew and were backed up against a cliff.
You were trying your best, shooting at the Gundarks as they slowly pushed you off the cliff.
Hanging off the edge, you were screaming for help, starting to lose your grip on the cliffside slowly. 
All of a sudden, the Gundarks above you disappeared and Hunter appeared in your vision. 
He reached down, both of you grunting and working to get you back onto the same level as him.
When safe, you both sat on the ground, catching your breath a safe distance away from the cliff. 
You were about to thank him when suddenly, he was pulling you to him, his helmet off from his head.
The kiss was sloppy and quick, mostly full of adrenaline, with heavy breaths and shaking hands.
“Don’t ever scare me like that again.” Hunter gasped for a moment, his eyes showing full concern and worry for you. 
Before you could respond, you both were drawn back into the battle.
You’ll talk to him after the mission.
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Tech
You and Tech had a weird way of flirting.
The two of you had been dancing around each other, constantly picking on or teasing each other. From a third party’s perspective, they would think the two of you just enjoyed annoying each other. 
It started with simple jokes, the two of you acting almost childish. 
Then it started getting physical. Tech would pick you up and move you if you were in his way and you would do the same by pushing him out of the way. 
Eventually, one night when the two of you were working alone on the Marauder, the two of you crossed that line. 
You both were blushing hard, standing chest to chest, playfully bickering like you normally do, when all of a sudden, Tech reached up, grabbed your chin and kissed you on the lips. 
After he pulled away, the both of you gasping for air, you both started to laugh.
“Should have done that sooner.” He muttered and leaned in, kissing you again.
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Wrecker
You were so excited to see the boys again.
You had managed to get some extra cash and went to get those extra sweets that Wrecker had been eyeing for weeks. 
When they all arrived back from the mission, you instantly ran up to the ship as the door opened. 
“Wrecker! I have a surprise for you!” You called out, watching him as he bounded off of the ship towards you. 
“What is it?” He asked you. 
You fished into your bag, pulling out the many packages of sweets you got. You held them out to him with a smile on your face. 
You watched Wrecker’s eyes go wide and his jaw slack some. 
“This is amazing!” He practically jumped in place. 
All of a sudden, both of his big hands were on your cheeks and he pulled you in for a kiss. 
“We should try these together,” Wrecker said after he pulled away, still looking super excited. 
You guess you both got a surprise today. 
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Echo
You and Echo sat on the steps of the Marauder watching the busy city skyline in front of you. 
The both of you were enjoying a moment of peace before you had to leave for another mission in the morning. 
Conversations were easy with Echo, you would always share stories of growing up as a child and he would tell you stories about the 501st.
Tonight’s conversation was a little different though. 
Tonight, you two were talking about the future and what you wanted to do in said future. 
With soft words and leaning shoulder to shoulder, you basked in the moment, sharing with Echo about what you had wanted as a kid growing up and how different it was now.
“Can I kiss you?” He asked you suddenly and so quietly, you thought it was your imagination at first. 
Staring into his eyes, you nodded softly. 
He leaned in, a little hesitant, and gave you probably the sweetest kiss you had ever received.
From that moment on, the only thing you cared about for your future was to have Echo with you. 
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Crosshair
You two had finally done it. 
After long days of quietly planning and waiting for the right moment, you managed to sneak not only yourself but Crosshair out of the facilities of Mount Tantiss. 
No one had expected a thing, and you both were able to relax for a moment without the fear of the hounds hunting you down. 
In the safety of what you think was Crosshair’s brother’s ship, the two of you sat down quietly in a corner, reflecting on what had just happened. 
After a long moment of silence, Crosshair gently nudged you on the shoulder with his own. 
“Hey. Thank you.” He whispered to you, for only you to hear
You were about to say you're welcome when he leaned in and surprised you by kissing you on the lips.
You melted into his touch, enjoying this moment and now the hopeful future.
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Ping List: @stripeverse @stardusthuntress @fantasyproductions
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kapposuch · 2 years ago
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You get in a fistfight
Bad Batch x reader (headcannons)
Warnings: Fighting, Alcohol, Slightly suggestive in some spots, nothing too spicy though
I'm super fucking ill rn and have been recovering from a medical procedure so here's some 100% self serving headcannons about my favourite group of boys because I'm itching for some sort of drama <3
apologies if this isn't great but I'm here to entertain myself for the long run
Scenario
It's an easy going night, and you're all in Cid's parlour, sitting in a booth and relaxing with drinks after a lovely payout from a very high-risk high-reward job. As the night went on, the rowdier you happened to get, as did the remainder of the group of people that had come into the parlour to bet on Omega's killer games of Dejarik, much to Hunters disdain.
An imposing zabrak seemed pretty intent on getting hefty winnings, so when things didn't go his way and he was beaten by the girl with the sunny smile, he too, got rowdy.
You were heading back from the bar with another round of drinks served by Cid, when he grumbled some obscenities towards Omega, to which, you were very much not impressed. Now, you're in no way a helicopter parent over this 5-parent child, but like hell were you letting that slide.
Can't have a Ho-down without a throw-down.
And so, you hit the fuck it button, my personal favourite, and take one of the drinks to pour down his face. A fist fight ensues. Naturally.
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Hunter
He wants to be surprised, he really does, but he saw this coming from a mile away
sort of just sits there and sighs, a lil shake of his head as he waits for you to finish this man and head back to them
he is in no way, shape, or form, worried about you. in the same way he'd let his brothers kick up a bar fight without stepping in to help, he'll do the same with you, because clearly, you can handle yourself.
and Christ, can you handle yourself
fists are flying, people are cheering, and Hunter feels a twinge of pride come barrelling towards him
a sort of 'hey, I taught them that' moment
you're honestly having the time of your life, which is valid, but also makes you some what of a target
if someone else steps in to help the zabrak who instigated, he's sure as shit gonna stand up and give them the coldest glare known to man.
you're definitely relying on hand to hand right now, keeping on your toes and being swift, all the while being at least a tad tipsy, which, props to you, Hunter is shocked by your tenacity
the fight doesn't take long to end, especially since you're hyped enough to take on a Rancor. last time he did that, it took Wrecker at least 10 minutes, and all of his own energy to do that
he'll settle you by his side once it's over, and have a sort of look that says 'you really shouldn't have' while he cuddles you tight to his side and takes a swig of his drink
if you're wounded in any way, expect some PDA. while it's not usually his go to, he's not particularly sober so wouldn't mind kissing your knuckles or grazing his fingers across your cheeks to check for cuts or scratches.
if there's anything bad, he'll scoop you into his lap and make sure to rub or kiss you better, and promises to administer first aid whenever you're ready to go
he knows alcohol works like a numbing agent, so either way, you'll be feeling it in the morning. so he may as well let you enjoy the rest of your fun as to not leave a sour taste in your mouth
he's proud as fuck, honestly.
depending on how much he's drank, he'll coo into your ear how much he'd love to 'spar' with you another time to help you out with some techniques.
all the while, snaking his arms around your waist, resting them on your thighs, and giving a light squeeze.
nothing better than some possessive squeezes to ignite the fire in your belly
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Wrecker
now,
in most circumstances, this man would just stand up when this asshat throws, or even threatens, to punch you, and that would just about chase anyone away
but he's had some drinks, and wants to witness chaos as much as the next good Samaritan. and who are you to deny the sunshine rainbow boy a healthy dose of chaos
there is a lot of items being thrown, much to Cid's clear disdain, but you don't care. you have claimed a chair and it is no longer for sitting, it's an improvised projectile
you land plenty of hits on this poor sod of a man, before he eventually backs down, all the while Wrecker is experiencing the entertainment of his life
it's hilarious to see someone he'd consider relatively calm lose their shit and start swinging, and to have that person be his? he already knows you have his back no matter what, but you have sealed the deal
"Your hand, I need it. so I can marry you."
"What?"
"Nothing."
you're probably hurt. you threw a chair, hon, you're gonna be hurt, it probably ricocheted and bounced directly off your skull, which
I'm not saying is a good thing, but I'm so glad, it made him keel over laughing. he cares but Christ it was beautiful.
if you come back to him hurt, he'll start pestering Tech to take a look at you, all the while cradling you like a baby and providing you with kisses and compliments on your wild gremlin-like fighting skills
you fit perfectly in his lap, so that's where you're staying, where he can keep you safe and let you calm down from all the excitement.
he's proud. he shouldn't be, because you just about beat that man within an inch of his life, but he's proud.
"That's ma' pardner!"
sounds like a cowboy because since when does he pronounce words properly. we love him though, our big dumb cowboy
you're the chaotic duo no one asked for
if it happens again (it probably will), no holding back. he will start throwing things. including his food if necessary
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Tech
he was waiting for this.
saw it coming a mile away
you're not the best at fighting but you're not the worst, so he wants to let it play out, but at the same time, he's calculating the chances of a tipsy, maybe even drunken you winning a fight with someone who's clearly more sober than you are
but he knows better than to underestimate the power of alcohol, and his love of course
most of the time is spent staring down at his holopad, with the occasional glance up to check that you're still physically standing
at some point, he gets bored of not having your presence next to him, so he'll stand and make himself known to your assailant
"I'd recommend sitting back down, y/n. It's clear someone so desperate for masculine validity isn't going to back down until you're giving in."
You look at him with the most confused eyes, having just about no idea what he said, but you know it was a roast as this zabrak has eyes on Tech
now, our sweet boy has no reason to prove himself. he's plenty good in battle, as you've seen, and it's naturally a mistake to try and take on a clone
your foe just about throws himself towards Tech with quite a lot of force, to which goggles simply steps to the side, takes his dance partner by the wrist and thigh, and tosses him over his head onto the floor
you're absolutely gobsmacked
Tech seems utterly unfazed and grabs you by the wrist this time, gently pulling you back to the table, all the while stepping over this poor bastard sprawled on the dirty floor
he sits you down, gives you a once over for bruises or wounds, before getting comfy and diving into his holopad
he shuts things out for a little while, though eventually, a free hand makes its way to lace fingers with yours between you
he'll lean over and whisper as to not interrupt his brothers conversation
"If you like, I'll teach you proper self defence. You're fine on your own, but it'd be smart to learn suitable techniques."
it's endearing, and the sort of compliment that doesn't sound like one, but you know it is, and you absolutely agree to it
anything to spend more time with him
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Echo
he's stunned for the most part, considering how calm you often tend to be around him
but he's not seen a bar fight since he was last at 79's with the 501st
a blast from the past, but a welcome one all the same
he's close to getting up and joining you while you're throwing punches, but he decides against it. he'll step in if you need him, so he'll just sit back and watch
considering he's had quite a few, and despite being half machine, he's still got the guts and brain of a clone, he's happily tipsy
some of the patrons don't seem so happy to be dodging a fight between a complete gremlin and a man with a dick smaller than your pinky nail, and you get a few threats from others mid fight
you're already too focused on your swings, dodging here and there to notice the words
Echo noticed though
now, he promised himself he wouldn't get involved, but now that you're getting threats to be ganged up against?
no sir.
he's swearing like a sailor, honestly. throwing a few 'shit's and 'bastards' here and there as he grumbles his way over to you
the zabrak eventually notices he's got what looks like a tank of a man hounding up the way behind you, and gradually raises his hands, asking to drop the fight
you have no idea Echo is now behind you, and with a healthy swing, you get a nice crack to your foes jaw
and down he goes
everyone gets back to it and your opponent, slumped on the dirty floor where he belongs, is left to sit
by the time you realise Echo is behind you, he's already chuckling, snaking his arm around your waist to pull you to his chest
he's mighty proud of you for handling the situation, and tells you he came for moral support, or defence if anyone else got involved, leaving you giddy
"good job, mesh'la, maybe you could... show me some of your moves another time?"
leaves a rough kiss on your cheek, almost as if to say to the rest of the parlour, 'this ones mine'
confident drunk. change my mind. I dare you
he's a bit too whizzed to check you for injuries, but so are you. you're not feeling anything but a flame in your belly as you sit down with him, almost on his lap
he won't let you go for the rest of the night, always reaching around you to pick up his drink to take a sip. his arm will not unwrap from you. you're stuck with him
I don't think you mind, though ;)
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Crosshair
he really wants to care
but Jesus Christ he's had enough of this shit from the good ol' days with the rest of the 99'ers when wrecker would throw his food tray
but honestly? entertainment factor just went up
watching his drunk little partner stumble around with a switch blade, god knows where you got it from, was so funny to him
he's doing his best to hide his grin, but considering his brothers are all far to drunk or unbothered to point it out, he lets go and simply gets comfortable
eventually, your swinging slows out of exhaustion, since you're pretty sleepy from the mission
cross notices pretty quick, and considers getting up
he waits a moment more to see what the zabrak does, until his grimy, dirty hand grabs your bicep
oh no. not a chance, buddy.
Cross still doesn't move from his seat, but simply pulls his own tactical knife from it's sheath and it absolutely flies across the room
in the zabrak's bicep
all's fair, right? he touches you, he gets punishment, yeah?
the zabrak just about screams and rips the blade from his arm, blabbering on about how the pair of you are crazy, before running off
you, still a tad weary, pluck his blade from the floor and look over to a very possessive looking Crosshair, whom is patting the space of the booth beside him, silently demanding you sit
you do as your told, snuggling into his side, and he simply leans down with a quiet whisper
"if you wanted my attention, all you had to do was ask, cyare."
his arm is snaked around you, and his hand comfortably glued to your thigh.
he's not letting you out of his sight
and god, he's glad he gave you a switch blade. maybe you need lessons
he'd happily oblige on the conditions that you... return favours for him
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