somehow all these good vibes have washed back on me and it's great. y'all are manifesting writing mojo for each other and me and I love it. keep going. don't stop.
The heat here's been absolute killer the past couple days - so it got me thinking how the rest of the Batch would cope and this cute idea popped up
All my love and thanks again to @itscanonfellas for being a huge help with this!
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Heatwave
Wrecker X Reader
Warnings: None
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The first year on Pabu, you’d learned a valuable lesson.
And it was that the heatwaves here were relentless.
The heat’s been gradually ramping up throughout the day - what was once a tepid warmth is now downright blistering both inside and out.
The batch has scattered to the four corners of the property once it became apparent that the temperature wasn’t cooling down anytime soon.
You’re pretty sure the only one who’s still technically in the house aside from you is Tech; though last time you checked in he was doing what he could to actively combat the heat, opening every single window in the vicinity while tinkering with what you hope is the beginnings of a fan from the living room couch.
Most of your morning has been spent in and out of the fridge - most of the time to fetch drinks but you’ve been caught a couple times leaning into the thing for a two second break from the sweltering temperature only to be griped at for wasting the cold.
It’s around lunchtime when you finally decide to check on everyone, fishing out a pitcher of water from the fridge that someone - likely Tech - had the foresight to stow away earlier. The icy chill against your hands is sorely welcome as you pour out several glasses - it’ll take a few trips to dish them all out, but you’d rather not try to pull a balancing act and risk smashing the glasses trying to show off.
Making the rounds is simple. Even on the hottest days you can always find the batch in their regular haunts, so tracking them down is rudimentary. Your first port of call is the living room, of course. Though Tech barely even glances up at you, thoroughly invested in the amalgamation of machinery scattered across the coffee table, he expresses his gratitude in his own way, giving your arm a brief pat as you push the glass into his field of view. With him taken care of your next route leads you outside.
From the vantage of the rooftop, you can make out a few figures across the backyard and beyond. It gives you a good idea on where everybody’s camped out. A couple of weeks after moving in, the rooftop had to be renovated; Crosshair had been a big help in getting it done, and had promptly claimed a corner of the building for his stuff the moment it was finished. You’d wondered why he had been so helpful, until you figured out it was for personal gain. Well played. Balancing the glass and working the stairs takes some work but you manage to reach the rooftop where, as expected, you find Crosshair propped up in the usual spot.
The hammock’s a new addition, and as you approach, Crosshair peeks out from his current perch, eyes sharp gauging whoever’s brave enough to come into his space. Once he spots you, or more accurately, the drink you basically hover over his face he softens considerably, though the drink is promptly swiped from your hands the very next second.
You head to your next target.
By the time you find the poor soul lost to the heat, you have to practically peel Omega off of the large rock she’s decided to lounge on like a damn lizard. It takes some maneuvering with only one hand but you manage, holding her up long enough to accept the offered drink and making her promise to find somewhere shadier. Though she looks content to bake in the sun, the last thing you need is to explain to Hunter how Omega ended up burnt to a crisp if she stays out much longer.
Echo’s got the right idea when you locate him, tucked away beneath the tree to the right of the house basking in the shade with the company of the ice packs previously left forgotten in the back of the freezer. You’re a little miffed you didn’t think of that first honestly, and you praise him for the smart thinking, as you kneel down to nudge him into taking a glass. Echo’s polite enough to offer you a pack for your trouble and while it’s tempting you inevitably turn it down. You’re not blind - even in the shade you’re sure the sweltering heat has a poor effect on his cybernetics and you can only imagine the extra trouble he has to go through not to overheat.
Even Hunter, whose body temperature runs cooler than the rest of the batch, is working up a sweat in the unrelenting heat, legs kicked up on the fencing as he presses himself into a shaded corner of the porch bench when you meander over.
He’s got a datapad in his lap and his sunhat is tilted down to hide his face from view. He looks every bit the napping dad, down to the uncomfortable sleeping position which definitely won’t help his back when he moves. You’re already conjuring up an old man joke in your head, giggling on approach, when Hunter tips the hat back and eyes you up with one eye.
Probably best not to test his patience on a day like this, the supporting the elderly jokes can wait until the temperature becomes inhabitable.
Still, the glass is accepted graciously after being assured you have your own drink inside. That leaves you with just one more person to find - thankfully you know exactly where he is.
Wrecker is definitely suffering the worst from the heat - his body runs warm enough that he is basically a walking furnace, even without any extra layers helping him. Maybe it’s all the extra muscle or the excess energy that practically rolls off of him in waves, but Wrecker’s always ran the warmest out of his brothers.
Stars, you still remember having to drop by Hoth once a year back. The Marauder’s AC had sputtered and packed up the moment you’d hit planetside. While Wrecker didn’t so much as shiver the rest of the crew weren’t so lucky, and had to pilfer every single piece of clothing and blankets on the ship just to feel a fraction of warmth. And even then it’d taken cuddling up close to the bigger clone just to stop your body from turning into an ice cube - a kindness you repaid with as much junk food as you could physically carry as soon as you were able to defrost back in temperate climates.
Sure Wrecker’s warmth had been a lifesaver during the frigid months - You quite happily spent as much time as you could wileing the winter nights away curled up in his arms, sapping at that endless source of body heat as he tucked you eagerly against his chest.
But now? It looked like his internal oven was biting him in the ass.
You find him in the backyard sprawled out on one of the deck chairs, looking a couple of minutes away from melting and becoming one with the furniture. You’re careful to step over the shirt and shoes carelessly discarded in Wrecker’s bid to cool off, but even stripped down to his shorts the poor man’s sweating bullets.
It’s impossible not to feel bad for him; you’re hoping that the water will be enough to ease some of his suffering. Taking pity on the sorry state he’s been reduced to, you carry the ice-cold drink over to where he’s slumped, the ice cubes clinking against the base of the glass as you round the deck chair he’s slumped against.
You make sure Wrecker knows that you’re there before you try anything, you’d rather not have the thing go flying if he were to jump up because you’d surprised him. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s knocked something flying because he’d been taken by surprise - by complete accident, of course, and you recall the hour worth of profuse apologies following the fiasco as he’d helped you clean the mess.
Leaning up against the chair frame you bring a hand to smooth over his bare shoulder, and the heat from his skin practically radiates beneath your fingertips. Stars he really is burning to the touch. Wrecker grumbles leaning a little into the gentle caress but doesn’t open his eyes. Your heart breaks seeing your usually overexcitable partner looking so drained.
“Oh Wrecker,” sighing, you rub slow circles into his shoulder, hoping to coax him into rousing long enough to show him what you’ve brought with you. When that doesn’t work you try the next best thing - gently pressing the drink to his temple.
The moment the chill of the glass touches his feverish skin, the sigh that Wrecker lets out is one of absolute bliss, head tilting back desperate to chase the relief that the glass provides.
“Oooooh that feels nice.” and you’re sure it does, as the knit in his brows eases and his expression morphs from discomfort to content.
Now that you’ve got Wrecker’s attention you lift the glass from his forehead - reluctantly, but you’d rather he enjoyed his drink before the ice melts. It’s a good thing he isn’t looking at you yet, because it takes all you have not to laugh at the way he groans at the loss, leaning back far enough on the chair you have to press against his shoulder before he ends up tipping the whole thing over.
He cracks an eye open to look up at you, and your expression warms at the cute lopsided grin he flashes. Your name falls from Wrecker’s lips with a content rumble as he stretches out, no doubt working the feeling back into his limbs.
“C’mon Wreck,” you sooth, pressing a quick kiss in place of where the drink had just been - a little cooler than it was before thankfully. “It’ll be better if you drink it before it melts.”
Wrecker’s sluggish but pushes himself upright at your instruction. When he no longer looks as though he’s about to sink back into the deck chair you balance yourself on the edge of it.
Slotting into a space where the chair dips with his weight you make yourself comfortable beside him in spite of the heat. From this spot the sun is relentless - it definitely isn’t helping Wrecker’s overheating problem - and you’re vaguely aware of the warmth that burns along your shoulders and the back of your neck as you twist to face away from the sun. Condensation drips along the outside of the cup in hand, a clear sign as any that you’ve been holding the thing for too long; and the moment you’ve got his eyes on you you’re handing it over.
Wrecker visibly brightens as you give the glass a little swirl, wordlessly coaxing him to take it. A large hand overlaps yours as he accepts the offered drink, giving your fingers a grateful squeeze before freeing the cup from your grip. He tips his head back and just about necks a good third of the glass’ contents, more than a bit of it dripping down his chin in his haste to get something cool into his system.
He’s halfway through chugging the thing before apparently deciding it’s not cooling him down quick enough. In the next second the remaining contents of the glass are promptly poured over Wrecker’s head, rivulets of water streaking pathways over his shoulders and down his front as he groans in relief.
As though the refreshment has breathed life back into your beloved boyfriend Wrecker barks out a laugh, running a hand over his head. You bite back a chuckle at how fast he perks up, shaking his head like a wet dog - you have to lean back to avoid the splash zone, your eyes following the trails of water droplets that roll down his cheeks and drip from his jaw like a leaky faucet.
“You’re the best, Mesh’la!” Wrecker’s got the foresight to put down the empty glass first before he ducks down, pressing his lips to yours.
Thanks to the refreshment they’re wonderfully cool and you’re more than happy to sink into the kiss, cupping his face between your hands with a blissful sigh of your own.
“Oh am I?“ You break the kiss just long enough to hum, your thumbs chasing the leftover drops on his chin and swiping them away. You already know the answer - Wrecker never shies away from reminding you every chance he gets - but it never fails to make your heart swell.
“Aw, c'mon ya already know it.” Saying this his kisses start wandering away from your lips, peppering over the bridge of your nose and across your cheek to just below the curve of your ear.
He noses the area affectionately, grinning against your skin at the giggle it elicits from you - a sound that makes him melt all over again.
Wrecker’s affection is all-encompassing - eager to crowd into your space and shower you with all of the love you could possibly want and then some. It’s one of the many things you adore about him, and you’re eager to reciprocate as he drags his mouth across your skin to your lips for more kisses.
He’s still unbearably warm, sweat slicked skin pressing against your side as he curls one arm around your waist, fingers squeezing tenderly at the bare space where your shirt rides up. The other hand comes to rest on your lower back, large palm spread flat along the dip of your spine pressing you against him and you all but fall pliantly into place. Each brush of his mouth against your own ekes out soft, dreamy sighs, and your hands trail down the back of his neck, looping around broad scarred shoulders to tug him closer.
You’d quite happily kiss him all day if you could - maker knows Wrecker would literally jump at the word go. Too bad the hot weather ruins your fun, as you become aware of the burning heat that begins to crawl down your neck and back in the wake of his touch - unfortunately not just thanks to his kisses, as the sun is apparently keen on reminding you.
Your attempt to avoid the heat is followed easily by Wrecker, whose huge form provides an excellent form of shade. That is until you start to feel the deck chair beginning to tip back.
Your hands fly up to curb the affectionate onslaught before he sends it toppling along with the pair of you. Reluctantly you push away from his lips, though Wrecker is quick enough to steal a couple more kisses for good measure before you can get a word in.
“You’re hot.” you huff, but it only gets you a cheeky grin as he bumps his nose against yours.
“Thanks.”
With a snort you press a hand to Wrecker’s bare chest before he can dive in for another kiss. “I meant that literally, Wreck. You need to cool off - I’d rather not have to pry you off of this chair when you overheat again.”
This time it’s Wrecker’s turn to huff, breath stiflingly warm on your neck as he buries his face into the crook of it. “I dunno, these kisses are helping an awful lot…” he presses another kiss, just for good measure and you snort a laugh.
“That’ll do anything but cool you down and you know it.”
The pads of your fingers smooth out along his chest, idly tracing over an old scar that stretches below his collarbone. “Could always spray you down in the fresher,” you suggest, “But I’m pretty sure Hunter wouldn’t be happy about wasting all the water.”
“Wouldn’t call that a waste.”
“Your brothers would say otherwise.”
The defeated groan he lets out in response when he realizes you’re not budging vibrates against your skin, and you bring your hand up to pat his back in a ‘there there’ gesture that only earns another groan.
Wrecker goes quiet after a moment, uncharacteristically so considering how boisterous he usually is. That lasts for a moment too long, and you’re beginning to worry you’ve lost him to heatstroke when he suddenly pushes himself upright with a gasp.
“The beach!”
“The beach?” You laugh, a little baffled at the sudden switch. “How did we make the jump from the freshers to the beach?”
“Think ‘bout it! It’s the only way to have constant water without Hunter blowing a fuse!” He taps against his head with his finger and then pokes the center of yours, as if transferring the thought.
Huh. That’s actually a good idea - one of the many perks of living here was basically being a couple clicks away from the beach. You have to wonder why no one came to that conclusion before. Maybe it was the brain fog accumulated through trying to avoid actively baking beneath the sun for the past couple of hours?
“Right, you wrangle up the others. I’ll head back inside and get the swimsuits and-” your would be list is cut off abruptly as Wrecker promptly scoops you out of the chair, the ground leaving your feet as you sail airborne upwards, finally finding your place over Wrecker's shoulder. It’s wide enough you don’t fall off at all but your vision is upside down for a few seconds.
“WRECKER!”
“Na, we don’t need no swimsuits! We’ll be in the water!”
You fail to see the logic there. “Wrecker, I'm not swimming naked!”
“You won’t, you can wear what you’re wearing right now.” He protests, still making strides away from the house.
“I can’t swim fully clothed either.”
“Why not? It’ll be fun!”
It doesn’t seem like Wrecker’s in much of a mood to listen to reason - not that he ever is when his mind is set on something. It’s something you both loved and hated about the man. “Fine. But you’re the one who’ll be scrubbing the sand out of everybody’s stuff later.”
“That’s a sacrifice I am willing to make.” He adjusts you on his shoulder, moving you so you’re less like a sack of potatoes and more perched atop it, allowing you to look down at his grinning face. “Now can we go to the beach?”
“The beach?!” As if the words alone have summoned her, Omega skids into view. All signs of fatigue are long gone and she’s practically beaming, looking significantly redder than the last you saw of her - oh, she is definitely sunburnt. Hunter’s going to kick a fit. “We’re going to the beach?!”
“You bet we are kid!” Omega cheers, practically jumping for joy on the spot. “Go round up the crew and we’re out of here.”
She stands to attention in an instant, hand raised in a mock of a salute with all the seriousness of a child being promised a reward. “Sir yes sir!” and she’s gone in a blink of an eye, sprinting up the path towards the house; stumbling in her haste “Guys! Wake up! We’ve got a mission!”
It takes seconds for Hunter to burst through the back doors into the yard; leaning over the fence with wild eyes and - he had most definitely drifted off between your conversation and this rendezvous, he still looks half asleep. Looks like peace has done Hunter some good. “What? What mission, what’s happening?”
“The beach! We’re going to the beach!” Her shrill voice carries and from your vantage point, you see Hunter press his head to the wooden railing. It looks like he’s either trying to calm his heart or gather his strength not to throttle Omega for the fright. “Did you hear, Crosshairs?”
Your gaze travels.
Crosshair is on the roof, rifle already in hand, though he seems to have clocked on that there is no danger and seems to be contemplating using Omega for target practice instead.
The girl really didn’t know how often her life hung in the balance in this place.
She disappears into the house in a blur of blonde and red - followed swiftly by Hunter, who definitely clocked onto the sunburn the kid’s sporting and runs a defeated hand down his face as he trails behind.
Sighing at their antics you drop your arm to rest atop Wreckers head, bracing yourself on his shoulder. The victorious grin on Wrecker’s face only brightens as he places a hand on your thigh to help keep you upright, rubbing slow circles. Clearly he’s got no plans on putting you down any time soon. You wouldn’t be surprised if he’s planning on carrying you the whole way there atop his shoulder.
The thought makes you smile - a smile that breaks into a knowing smirk as you hear a shout from inside the house demanding to know who’d used the last of the sun screen.
Been going through a bit of a bad batch kick and got inspired by a prompt so I wanted to try my hand at writing a lil something!
Huge thanks to @itscanonfellas for helping me with this and putting up with my rambling!
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A Reprieve
Tech X Reader
Warnings: None, just pure fluff really
Prompt: 1. Firefly outside on a dark night.
prompt list x
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With the Empire a constant threat breathing down your neck, respite was a luxury rarely afforded and often downright ignored for the sake of survival. It was to be expected, you knew what you had signed up for traveling with your wayward band of misfit clones - but with each day of endless running and hiding, it was becoming harder to remember times that you weren’t bunged up in the Marauder for a mission or being chased down on a supposedly ‘safe’ planet.
Whether it was your own wishes spoken into existence, or something out there in the universe had taken mercy, your break finally came in the form of blaster fire.
You were never good with technology, but judging by Echo’s grumbling as he assessed the damage on the monitor, it wasn’t very good, whatever had been hit. Something about being a pain in the shebs to fix, but manageable. You didn’t speak much Mando’an but you felt you could connect the dots on that one.
The ship would have made the journey back to Ord Mantell just fine if a little slower than wanted, but with the job done and no one particularly eager to return to Cid’s parlor, there was no rush to get back planetside just yet.
Instead Hunter had relented, landing the Marauder for a quick pit stop, settling onto the first small planet that was far enough away not to draw unwanted attention.
This temporary stop is probably the most peace you’ve had in months. Dense treelines stretch out as far as you can see on all sides, rich with flora of all kinds that Hunter double checks are safe before he lets anyone even get a foot off the craft.
There are small bodies of water dotted across the grassy terrain and you can’t take a few steps without stepping in one on your path through the grass. They go no deeper than knee-length, a fact quickly discovered when Wrecker had jumped straight into the nearest one - expecting a puddle only to sink straight down to his boots, water flooding through the crevices much to his annoyance.
You and Omega had laughed at his plight, until he’d rounded on you both and you’d scattered, avoiding your own watery fate from the hands of your bomb expert. Once the initial scan of the immediate vicinity flagged no dangers – and the three of you had made a fine show of kicking up water, Hunter had allowed you to take off to - for the lack of a more professional word, play.
It’s nice to see Omega get to be a child, the moments are few and far between and the girl is so clever, it’s hard to remember she’s only been around for 13 cycles.
You allow yourself this moment, splashing around and soaking your fellow teammates whilst the ship is getting fixed. Hunter watches from the sidelines - supervising to make sure they don’t get too out of hand.
At least until Omega catches Hunter in the watery crossfire that was originally meant for you. You both freeze. Wrecker bellows with laughter somewhere behind you all. Hunter slowly turns to face Omega, hair dripping into his face, covering his tattoos so he looks positively menacing.
Omega takes off running first with a cackle, already anticipating when Hunter follows in hot pursuit. It’s an unfair fight, Hunter’s legs are longer and the man’s got unnatural speed, but Omega’s crafty and uses the terrain to her advantage.
Of course, just as you start to cheer Omega on, she trips head first into the puddle at her feet, disappearing in a spray of water. Hunter trudges his way through the marsh and pulls her out by the collar, much like a bedraggled Lothcat.
That signals the end of the battle for the new planet; Hunter tucks Omega under one arm and takes her back to the safety of the Marauder.
From inside the vessel, there are very loud complaints that water should be kept outside of the ship and that included Omega in her current state. This of course is ignored.
“Well, party’s over.” Wrecker wades his way back to dry land, beckoning you to follow which you do - at a much slower pace.
You’re both sopping wet when you reach the grassy bank and you decide you’re not going to risk Echo’s or Tech’s wrath on this one, leave that for Omega and Wrecker. “I’ll just be a few, if you need me you know where to find me.”
Wrecker shrugs, like he doesn’t understand the want to be outside alone, but allows you this piece of solitude “Don’t forget, this ain’t over, next planet we’re on it’s victor against victor.”
Technically, there had been no victor - Maker you weren’t even aware it was a fight for the title, or what this title was. Still, you’ll allow Wrecker to have this. You shoo Wrecker away with a grin. He jabs his two fingers at his eyes and then towards you, which you mimic before he disappears inside the ship.
“Wrecker, for the last time you are not a mop, wring yourself out before you step foot on this ship.”
Even from outside the ship you can hear the impending scolding and you snicker as your own shoes squelch with each step.
The last slivers of sun are gone by the time you flop onto the bank, squeezing out what water you can from your hair and clothes, before splaying out onto the grass.
A chill settles in now that you’re not stomping through puddles, but the cool breeze is welcome after your tussle on the marshy battlefield and you stretch out, breathing deep. The air smells of wet soil and fresh grass and you give yourself a moment to just enjoy something that isn’t stale air and smoke.
Almost on instinct, your eyes flutter closed, basking in the feeling while you have it. Your senses are nowhere near as refined as Hunter’s - which, considering how loud things can get on the Marauder, the poor man must suffer terribly - but like this you catch the little things. The wind simpers, making a low howling sound as it blows softly through the breaks in the treeline, masked only by the dull hum of the ship.
If you strain your ears you can make out the commotion inside - can hear Wrecker arguing that his armor’s still good to wear even though it had been dripping buckets earlier. You catch Omega grumbling something about drying her hair herself and grin, knowing that the kid’s not going to escape Hunter’s grip till she’s not a walking water balloon skulking around the Marauder.
The bickering is playful, void of any of the stress that’s been bubbling among the crew for too long. The batch had needed this excursion even if at first it had been an inconvenience - things were content, relaxed for the first time in a long while.
All too soon, however, this tranquility would be over. No doubt it won’t be long before you get the call to head back and the illusion of peace will shatter. You frown. It’s a sobering thought, an unpleasant reminder of the routine the whole team will fall back into once you leave this planet behind. You want it to last longer - to forget about anything that exists past this planet's atmosphere, so the galaxy doesn’t feel like it’s crumbling apart for once and it’s not your job to try to patch up the cracks. If for just a few more hours.
With a sigh, you run a hand through your hair – damp but thankfully not soaked. With any luck you’ll be able to sneak onboard without catching as much flack as Omega and Wrecker did-
“Have you been banished from the ship for any particular reason?”
If anyone asks, no, you don’t almost jump out of your skin at the sudden noise, and you definitely don’t narrowly avoid slipping down the bank as you dig your heels in and scramble to look up. You have to crane your neck back to see his face, but your blood pressure is still cussing out Tech for the scare the moment you recognize the clone standing behind you.
“Me? Banished? Never.” You mock gasp taking the shock in stride as you clutch your chest - partly for dramatics but also to check that your heart’s still beating. Somehow that doesn’t seem to convince him - not that you have the best track record anyway - so you shrug.
“Thought I’d dry off before getting onboard. Wouldn’t wanna add to the indoor pool Omega and Wrecker have got going on in there.”
Tech looks positively miserable at the reminder of the mess, sighing. “Well the sentiment is appreciated. At least one of you has the sense not to risk waterlogging the ship.”
You go to argue that he’s exaggerating - it wasn’t like they’d been that badly drenched. Until you remember Omega was more water than girl by the time Hunter had carried her back into the ship, and Wrecker wasn’t any better with half the marsh stuffed in his gear. Point taken.
You half expect Tech to herd you back onto the ship. If he’s out here, then that means the Marauder’s patched up and ready to go - Tech’s never one to leave a job half finished. But he doesn’t. Instead he pads over to the space beside you, making sure it’s dry before taking a seat on the bank, unclipping his datapad from his belt and bringing it to his face.
Blinking you roll over to get a better look at him, watching Tech tap away at the screen with no urgency. The wind picks up, ruffling his hair and cutting through the silence that stretches for a moment. When had his hair gotten so long? It had been short and slicked back when you had met so many moons ago, now it curled just past the ear - still kept meticulously out of his face. You supposed there weren’t many options out in deep space, you couldn’t imagine being caught by the Empire with half a head done.
And you weren’t about to trust Wrecker and his clippers either.
The silence is almost comfortable, settling between you until Tech speaks again, not sparing a glance from the machine.
“I suppose statistically there are worse planets to land on.” He muses, almost to himself. You were sure he was until he gave a sideways glance in your direction “Though we won’t be interrupting its tranquility for long, we will be space worthy within the hour.”
“Ah. Done already?” Propping your cheek in your hand, you tilt your head trying to catch a glimpse of his screen - with no luck. You’ve always wondered what he types away on that thing. Maybe it’s his diary.
The image of a teenage Tech writing all his secrets in a data pad, hiding away what he had done that day or who had gained his highest admiration, makes you smile, and you hide it in the palm of your hand.
“They were simply routine repairs” Tech reassures “The blaster fire compromised a few controls. Nothing I could not fix, naturally.” from anyone else that would be bragging, but knowing Tech it’s as easy for him as he makes it sound, probably could have done it in his sleep if he was so inclined. Not that he does, mind you.
A pause, then he glances up from his data pad finally in your direction. “You sound disappointed?” there’s a questioning to his tone, like he’s unsure why exactly you would be disheartened having to leave this little haven.
“Well I don’t think any of us wanna be stranded, Tech.” Absently you run your hand through the grass, tugging a few blades between your fingers. Maker, how long had it been since you’d gotten to touch real grass? “Just a shame is all. I was getting used to it.”
“It?”
“Yknow, this” You gesture around. “The peace and quiet-”
As if on cue, a crash rattles the Marauder, Wrecker’s cackle echoing from inside; making you startle and Tech sigh like he was expecting it. After a moment it settles, the rocking slowing and you turn back to Tech.
“Okay maybe not quiet - you know what I mean.”
Tech gives a hum of acknowledgment. “I understand. Between missions from Cid and maintaining a low profile, there’s been little else. Rest has been difficult.”
For him more so than most, you want to add. You can’t remember a time since joining the crew that Tech’s had more than a Powernap. You’ve found him curled up in the pilot’s seat a few times, or face down on his datapad for a couple clicks when things quiet down. But anything longer than that? Maker, you can't tell if that’s just a Tech thing or if the rest of the batch have the same struggle.
You wouldn’t blame them, not after everything they’ve been through.
“Though the amount of water brought back aboard is less than ideal, this brief excursion has been…” Tech trails off, like he’s trying to find the right word. “It’s…nice.” He decides and you chuckle.
“Eloquently put from a man of many words.”
You catch him rolling his eyes behind his goggles, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips, but he doesn’t comment further on the sarcastic comment.
Conversation lulls so your attention wanders elsewhere. The water around you has settled without several pairs of boots stomping through it. You can see why Wrecker thought they were just puddles - the only indication otherwise is the reeds that sprout up around the marshy underbrush, standing tall and almost glowing against the deep blue reflection of the-
Wait.
There’s a blue light beginning to glow between the reeds, which is new. You change directions; lying flat on your belly so you can peer over the edge into one of the little pools, trying to make out what the source of the light is and where it’s coming from. Tech begins leaning closer as if to pull you back from the edge.
“I wouldn’t advise-“ Tech goes to warn you but you beat him to it with an excited gasp.
“Fireflies!”
“What?”
Sure enough the source of the light is indeed fireflies, or at least, something that resembles them. There’s dozens of them; they weave in and out of the reeds, appearing from small pockets around the pools and slowly rising up into the darkened sky, generating a hazy blue bioluminescent light.
You lean back at the revelation, pushing yourself a safe distance from the waters edge as they begin to emerge and fan out across the terrain, their numbers increasing with every second. What had once been a sea of browns and greens, is now an artwork of azure blue.
There have been many wonders that you have come across exploring the galaxy, only multiplied further by the arrival of the batch. And yet sights like these never get old - little pockets of something far removed from the chaos of the universe just waiting to be discovered.
In another life you could stay here, longer than an hour, longer than a day, if only for the promise of such a sight waiting outside of the ship every night. But with that a distant wish you settle for just now, entranced by the vibrant hues that makes the whole place glow like it’s alive.
“It’s been a while since we’ve seen something pretty that hasn’t immediately tried to kill us.” Your sigh is wistful as you pull your legs up to your chest, chin resting on your knees as your eyes trace patterns of the lightshow generated by the myriad of luminescent insects.
“I agree. Though what you have found ‘pretty’ in the past has been notably questionable.”
You clutch your non-existent pearls at the jab, mouth aghast.“Really? Name one time I’ve been questionable!”
“I distinctly remember you calling a rancor ‘adorable”. The quotation marks Tech makes with his free hand earn him a glowering look as you jab an accusatory finger at him.
“Muchi was adorable!”
“Was that decided before or after almost being trampled in her rampage?”
…Fair point. That point of course is promptly ignored as the sky is suddenly far more fascinating than deigning him with a retort that just proves him right again.
With night rolling in, many of the fireflies have wandered from the marshes, meandering overhead and dotting about the skyline above you. They blend into the sky, merging alongside the myriad of stars until you can hardly differentiate the two in a canvas of breathtakingly dark hues. It’s a humbling kind of beauty, and you take your time idling the moments away admiring the sapphire speckles of light buzzing through the air for a while, mesmerized by the simple wonder before you turn to see if Tech’s watching too.
Only to stifle a chuckle.
A firefly has perched itself on the rim of Tech’s goggles, a tiny little thing that casts a soft blue glow over the yellow tint of his lenses. He hasn’t noticed, face still half buried in the datapad in his hands, laser focused on whatever he’s working on.
As much as you’d love to see how long it takes to notice his new companion, as the seconds tick by the urge to point it out is too great and a minute later you cave.
“Tech.” He hums in acknowledgment but doesn’t look up. It’s only by the third call that Tech finally deems it necessary to tear his gaze away from the device, and there's no hiding the little grin on your face when he tilts his head to face you.
“I think you’ve got something there.” you tap a finger beside your temple just above your right eye, mirroring where his goggles rest on his face.
Of course he connects the dots quickly, and on instinct Tech brings a hand up to adjust his goggles. You half expect the firefly to take off the second he does so, and though its wings flutter briskly to keep itself balanced it doesn’t budge. In fact the little bug uses the gesture as a bridge to climb across the frame and onto his glove, pattering delicately down the fabric before coming to settle on one of his knuckles, where it stops with a deciding flutter.
Whether emboldened by their fellow firefly or drawn in by its light reflecting off of Tech’s glove, it doesn’t take long for a few other fireflies to break from the formation above your heads and move to join the insect.
Before you know it, several of the little things have come to rest on the back of his hand, essentially using the clone’s hand as a landing pad. For what it’s worth Tech doesn’t even flinch at the development, even though the glow is now bright enough that he looks blue right up to his wrist.
If Tech wanted to, he could easily ward them off with a shake of his hand. Surprisingly, he doesn’t. Instead he places his datapad onto his lap, maneuvering his hand to better view these miniscule guests who have made his hand their temporary perch.
Fearless little things; they hardly move an inch as he does so. This time your laugh at his plight doesn’t go unnoticed and Tech gives you a side glance at the soft sound, wordlessly questioning what you find so amusing with an arched brow.
“They must like you.” You tease, grin a little squished with how your cheek presses against your knee when you tilt your head.
“Unlikely.” Tech is quick to dissuade you of the notion, no doubt pulling on the well of knowledge knocking around in his brain as he continues.
“It is merely a lack of socialization.” He explains, twisting his hand to allow you a closer look. “This planet would rarely see interference from outside influences, and natural predators are limited in such a way that they lack the reservations for caution. Simply put, they have no reason to fear us.”
You nod sagely, like you understood more than the last third of what he’d just said. You’re more focused on admiring the fireflies now that they’re a little closer. Though there’s some distance between the two of you, you can make out that the light the fireflies admit isn’t one stagnant color. No, they instead seem to cycle through several shades of blue - from azures to royal tints that remind you all too fondly of the tumultuous hues of deep oceans.
When you look up to point it out you’re surprised to find Tech's attention is solely on you. Warm brown eyes regard you intently through tinted lenses, and you instinctively give yourself a once over to check that you don’t have any bioluminescent plus-ones of your own. Upon finding none you’re puzzled and begin to ask what’s wrong; only to pause when he nods as though resolving an internal matter in his head.
“Very well - come closer.”
“What?” Brows furrowing your expression scrunches up in confusion. What is he-?
He doesn’t explain, instead shifting positions so that his whole body is facing you. “It will only take a moment. Just raise your hand - like so.”
Curiosity wins out and you do as he asks, scooting closer and holding out your hand with the palm facing upwards as Tech demonstrates. Your legs knock against the knee pads of his armor and you have to readjust yourself a few times to get comfortable, but eventually you get settled so you’re sitting face to face.
Satisfied with your cooperation Tech’s free hand moves to catch your wrist. It’s a small gesture, but your whole arm prickles like a shot’s gone through your system as you freeze. His touch is gentler than you’d anticipated but the weathered material of his gloves takes some getting used to as he steadies your hand, the warmth a stark contrast to the cool night air.
“Do I need to ask what you’re doing?”
“You can, though it is far easier to show you if you are patient. Now try not to move.”
Easier said than done when he’s holding your wrist like that, and even more so as he brings both hands to cover yours. Your gaze snaps up to Tech’s face, attempting to gauge what’s going through that brain of his. His expression is frustratingly neutral so you have nothing to clue you in on his train of thought. You’re about to bite the bullet and just ask when-
“There we go.”
“Huh?” blinking, you glance down at your connected hands and finally realize what he’d been doing.
The fireflies have taken advantage of the new connection and transferred from Tech’s hand to your own. They tickle as they pad across the bare skin of your palm, leaving it tingling in the wake of their tiny legs as they fan out along your palm. A faint prickle settles all the way up to your fingertips as they potter about, reminding you vaguely of static - you have to wonder if that’s got anything to do with the electrifying colors that they display.
You giggle, wiggling your fingers slowly and their wings flutter at the motion, that fascinating light flaring up brighter and bathing your fingers bright blue. No doubt your face paints a similar picture of the vibrant hue as you lean in to get a closer look, eyes alight in the dance of the emanating glow with a reverent awe.
“I believe they must like you too.” You catch the amused lilt in Tech’s voice as he speaks, breaking you from your reverie and echoing your own words back to you. You snort at the irony.
“Hey, that’s my line-“ you prepare yourself for another teasing jab, grinning despite yourself when you glance up and-
Oh. Oh. He’s a lot closer than before.
Tech’s hunched forward, assuming the usual posture when studying something of interest - definitely not good for his back, but that complaint has fallen on deaf ears for a few months at least. Now though he’s close enough that your faces are only a couple inches apart, and while Tech is focused on your hands you can’t tear your eyes away from him.
The soft blue glow of your surroundings highlights the sharper edges of Tech’s features, azure running along his cheeks and glinting off of his goggles turning them a deeper hue than the usual yellow. Beautiful, is the first word that comes to mind, eyes running along the curve of his jaw as he speaks.
“While it does not happen often, I must concede that you were right in your assessment.” There’s a hint of praise in his words, and that really doesn’t help your brain from overthinking this gesture.
It takes a second to remember how to breathe - since when has breathing suddenly become a conscious effort? Your inhale is sharp as you will your pulse to stop pounding in your ears - with no luck.
“Uh, Tech?”
“The bioluminescence they generate is both aesthetically pleasing and practical-”
“Tech you’re a bit-”
“-That is to say, yes, they are rather pretty.”
“Tech-”
“Yes?”
You startle at how fast his eyes are back on you, that intent gaze from before settled on you with enough intensity that you feel as though you’re under a damn spotlight. The hand cupping your wrist still holds you with a gentle firmness, and you’re pretty sure that your heart shoots straight up into your throat when you feel Tech brush his thumb along the radial pulse.
What were you even going to ask? Were you going to warn him of the close proximity? If you were you’ve no doubt that Tech would be quick to rectify the issue - but was it really an issue? Somehow the thought alone of him moving an inch away is a disheartening prospect.
You force the lump in your throat down, swallowing hard as your lips part with half formed thoughts before you think twice. “I…Tech, do you think-”
“HEY!”
A calmer person wouldn’t have jumped at the sudden interruption, would have heard the call coming from a mile away. You aren’t that lucky - you shoot up so fast that your head bumps against Tech’s with an audible click. The reaction is immediate, both you and Tech groan in pain; shooting away from each other to avoid any other potential collisions and the fireflies instantly scatter to the wind.
Fucking ouch.
You clutch at your head, the point of impact throbbing beneath your touch. That’s going to leave a mark for sure.
Your attention snaps over to the ship to locate the owner of the voice and cause for your newfound injury, just in time to catch Omega as she pokes her head around the hatch from inside the Marauder. Her hair’s curled thanks to the earlier dunk, messy blonde strands framing her face and slightly frizzed no doubt thanks to Hunter’s attempt to dry her off. The man probably scrubbed every last drop off of her poor kid.
“We’re ready to go!” She waves you over excitedly.
Just as quickly as she appears the young girl vanishes back within the ship’s interior, leaving you staring at the empty space she had just inhabited.
Just like her brothers - causes chaos and leaves just as quickly.
You look back over to Tech who is also clutching his own head; you’d gotten the worst of it, but the bump had clearly caused Tech some discomfort as well. He rubs the spot with a pout, wincing under the touch.
The situation is so silly, like something out of a holofilm and, despite the pain, you can’t help but smile a little. Still you at least have half the mind to make sure your skull hasn’t done any lasting harm to Tech. Once you’re sure there’s no more surprise interruptions imminent you shift to check in on Tech, bringing a hand to cup the side of his face angling his head to survey the damage.
“You okay? Didn’t cause too much damage did I?” His skin is a little rosy from the knock but thankfully there’s no imminent bruising - you don’t think anyone would be particularly happy with you if you’d injured the beloved brains of the group, Tech especially.
Tech waves off your concern with ease, though doesn’t pull away as you tilt his head this way and that. “I am fine, though the impact - while accidental - was less than desirable.”
An understandable sentiment, and an obvious one that makes you chuckle. “Well you can thank your sister for that one.” Saying this you give Tech’s cheek a pat, adding, “Or stay out of headbutting range next time.”
Tech huffs a little at the sarcasm but returns your smile with one of his own. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”
“I’m sure you will. Now come on before they decide to fly off without us.”
While you clamber back to your feet on the bank Tech is in no such rush, taking the time to retrieve his datapad before rising to his feet. You move to head back towards the Marauder, taking a few steps before realizing that you’re making the trip alone. Looking back you see Tech staring out over the glowing landscape for a final time, quickly typing something into the datapad now safely back in his hands.
Tech mutters something as he does so but you don’t catch what. A click later he’s seemingly satisfied with the result and clips the datapad back to its rightful place on his belt, catching up and coming into step beside you in a few brisk strides.
The idea of a peaceful walk back to the ship all but goes out of the window the second another shudder rocks the spacecraft, and Tech’s sigh is one of knowing resignation as his pace picks up. Making a beeline to the hatch you can practically see the gears in his head turning, already forming what you’re sure is a warning on why giving the ship more damage than what it landed with isn’t a good idea.
Shaking your head you follow behind, a smile still tugging at your lips as you prepare yourself for what you’ll find the moment you step onto the Marauder. No doubt a new brand of chaos - but you don’t think you’d have it any other way.
Been going through a bit of a bad batch kick and got inspired by a prompt so I wanted to try my hand at writing a lil something!
Huge thanks to @itscanonfellas for helping me with this and putting up with my rambling!
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A Reprieve
Tech X Reader
Warnings: None, just pure fluff really
Prompt: 1. Firefly outside on a dark night.
prompt list x
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With the Empire a constant threat breathing down your neck, respite was a luxury rarely afforded and often downright ignored for the sake of survival. It was to be expected, you knew what you had signed up for traveling with your wayward band of misfit clones - but with each day of endless running and hiding, it was becoming harder to remember times that you weren’t bunged up in the Marauder for a mission or being chased down on a supposedly ‘safe’ planet.
Whether it was your own wishes spoken into existence, or something out there in the universe had taken mercy, your break finally came in the form of blaster fire.
You were never good with technology, but judging by Echo’s grumbling as he assessed the damage on the monitor, it wasn’t very good, whatever had been hit. Something about being a pain in the shebs to fix, but manageable. You didn’t speak much Mando’an but you felt you could connect the dots on that one.
The ship would have made the journey back to Ord Mantell just fine if a little slower than wanted, but with the job done and no one particularly eager to return to Cid’s parlor, there was no rush to get back planetside just yet.
Instead Hunter had relented, landing the Marauder for a quick pit stop, settling onto the first small planet that was far enough away not to draw unwanted attention.
This temporary stop is probably the most peace you’ve had in months. Dense treelines stretch out as far as you can see on all sides, rich with flora of all kinds that Hunter double checks are safe before he lets anyone even get a foot off the craft.
There are small bodies of water dotted across the grassy terrain and you can’t take a few steps without stepping in one on your path through the grass. They go no deeper than knee-length, a fact quickly discovered when Wrecker had jumped straight into the nearest one - expecting a puddle only to sink straight down to his boots, water flooding through the crevices much to his annoyance.
You and Omega had laughed at his plight, until he’d rounded on you both and you’d scattered, avoiding your own watery fate from the hands of your bomb expert. Once the initial scan of the immediate vicinity flagged no dangers – and the three of you had made a fine show of kicking up water, Hunter had allowed you to take off to - for the lack of a more professional word, play.
It’s nice to see Omega get to be a child, the moments are few and far between and the girl is so clever, it’s hard to remember she’s only been around for 13 cycles.
You allow yourself this moment, splashing around and soaking your fellow teammates whilst the ship is getting fixed. Hunter watches from the sidelines - supervising to make sure they don’t get too out of hand.
At least until Omega catches Hunter in the watery crossfire that was originally meant for you. You both freeze. Wrecker bellows with laughter somewhere behind you all. Hunter slowly turns to face Omega, hair dripping into his face, covering his tattoos so he looks positively menacing.
Omega takes off running first with a cackle, already anticipating when Hunter follows in hot pursuit. It’s an unfair fight, Hunter’s legs are longer and the man’s got unnatural speed, but Omega’s crafty and uses the terrain to her advantage.
Of course, just as you start to cheer Omega on, she trips head first into the puddle at her feet, disappearing in a spray of water. Hunter trudges his way through the marsh and pulls her out by the collar, much like a bedraggled Lothcat.
That signals the end of the battle for the new planet; Hunter tucks Omega under one arm and takes her back to the safety of the Marauder.
From inside the vessel, there are very loud complaints that water should be kept outside of the ship and that included Omega in her current state. This of course is ignored.
“Well, party’s over.” Wrecker wades his way back to dry land, beckoning you to follow which you do - at a much slower pace.
You’re both sopping wet when you reach the grassy bank and you decide you’re not going to risk Echo’s or Tech’s wrath on this one, leave that for Omega and Wrecker. “I’ll just be a few, if you need me you know where to find me.”
Wrecker shrugs, like he doesn’t understand the want to be outside alone, but allows you this piece of solitude “Don’t forget, this ain’t over, next planet we’re on it’s victor against victor.”
Technically, there had been no victor - Maker you weren’t even aware it was a fight for the title, or what this title was. Still, you’ll allow Wrecker to have this. You shoo Wrecker away with a grin. He jabs his two fingers at his eyes and then towards you, which you mimic before he disappears inside the ship.
“Wrecker, for the last time you are not a mop, wring yourself out before you step foot on this ship.”
Even from outside the ship you can hear the impending scolding and you snicker as your own shoes squelch with each step.
The last slivers of sun are gone by the time you flop onto the bank, squeezing out what water you can from your hair and clothes, before splaying out onto the grass.
A chill settles in now that you’re not stomping through puddles, but the cool breeze is welcome after your tussle on the marshy battlefield and you stretch out, breathing deep. The air smells of wet soil and fresh grass and you give yourself a moment to just enjoy something that isn’t stale air and smoke.
Almost on instinct, your eyes flutter closed, basking in the feeling while you have it. Your senses are nowhere near as refined as Hunter’s - which, considering how loud things can get on the Marauder, the poor man must suffer terribly - but like this you catch the little things. The wind simpers, making a low howling sound as it blows softly through the breaks in the treeline, masked only by the dull hum of the ship.
If you strain your ears you can make out the commotion inside - can hear Wrecker arguing that his armor’s still good to wear even though it had been dripping buckets earlier. You catch Omega grumbling something about drying her hair herself and grin, knowing that the kid’s not going to escape Hunter’s grip till she’s not a walking water balloon skulking around the Marauder.
The bickering is playful, void of any of the stress that’s been bubbling among the crew for too long. The batch had needed this excursion even if at first it had been an inconvenience - things were content, relaxed for the first time in a long while.
All too soon, however, this tranquility would be over. No doubt it won’t be long before you get the call to head back and the illusion of peace will shatter. You frown. It’s a sobering thought, an unpleasant reminder of the routine the whole team will fall back into once you leave this planet behind. You want it to last longer - to forget about anything that exists past this planet's atmosphere, so the galaxy doesn’t feel like it’s crumbling apart for once and it’s not your job to try to patch up the cracks. If for just a few more hours.
With a sigh, you run a hand through your hair – damp but thankfully not soaked. With any luck you’ll be able to sneak onboard without catching as much flack as Omega and Wrecker did-
“Have you been banished from the ship for any particular reason?”
If anyone asks, no, you don’t almost jump out of your skin at the sudden noise, and you definitely don’t narrowly avoid slipping down the bank as you dig your heels in and scramble to look up. You have to crane your neck back to see his face, but your blood pressure is still cussing out Tech for the scare the moment you recognize the clone standing behind you.
“Me? Banished? Never.” You mock gasp taking the shock in stride as you clutch your chest - partly for dramatics but also to check that your heart’s still beating. Somehow that doesn’t seem to convince him - not that you have the best track record anyway - so you shrug.
“Thought I’d dry off before getting onboard. Wouldn’t wanna add to the indoor pool Omega and Wrecker have got going on in there.”
Tech looks positively miserable at the reminder of the mess, sighing. “Well the sentiment is appreciated. At least one of you has the sense not to risk waterlogging the ship.”
You go to argue that he’s exaggerating - it wasn’t like they’d been that badly drenched. Until you remember Omega was more water than girl by the time Hunter had carried her back into the ship, and Wrecker wasn’t any better with half the marsh stuffed in his gear. Point taken.
You half expect Tech to herd you back onto the ship. If he’s out here, then that means the Marauder’s patched up and ready to go - Tech’s never one to leave a job half finished. But he doesn’t. Instead he pads over to the space beside you, making sure it’s dry before taking a seat on the bank, unclipping his datapad from his belt and bringing it to his face.
Blinking you roll over to get a better look at him, watching Tech tap away at the screen with no urgency. The wind picks up, ruffling his hair and cutting through the silence that stretches for a moment. When had his hair gotten so long? It had been short and slicked back when you had met so many moons ago, now it curled just past the ear - still kept meticulously out of his face. You supposed there weren’t many options out in deep space, you couldn’t imagine being caught by the Empire with half a head done.
And you weren’t about to trust Wrecker and his clippers either.
The silence is almost comfortable, settling between you until Tech speaks again, not sparing a glance from the machine.
“I suppose statistically there are worse planets to land on.” He muses, almost to himself. You were sure he was until he gave a sideways glance in your direction “Though we won’t be interrupting its tranquility for long, we will be space worthy within the hour.”
“Ah. Done already?” Propping your cheek in your hand, you tilt your head trying to catch a glimpse of his screen - with no luck. You’ve always wondered what he types away on that thing. Maybe it’s his diary.
The image of a teenage Tech writing all his secrets in a data pad, hiding away what he had done that day or who had gained his highest admiration, makes you smile, and you hide it in the palm of your hand.
“They were simply routine repairs” Tech reassures “The blaster fire compromised a few controls. Nothing I could not fix, naturally.” from anyone else that would be bragging, but knowing Tech it’s as easy for him as he makes it sound, probably could have done it in his sleep if he was so inclined. Not that he does, mind you.
A pause, then he glances up from his data pad finally in your direction. “You sound disappointed?” there’s a questioning to his tone, like he’s unsure why exactly you would be disheartened having to leave this little haven.
“Well I don’t think any of us wanna be stranded, Tech.” Absently you run your hand through the grass, tugging a few blades between your fingers. Maker, how long had it been since you’d gotten to touch real grass? “Just a shame is all. I was getting used to it.”
“It?”
“Yknow, this” You gesture around. “The peace and quiet-”
As if on cue, a crash rattles the Marauder, Wrecker’s cackle echoing from inside; making you startle and Tech sigh like he was expecting it. After a moment it settles, the rocking slowing and you turn back to Tech.
“Okay maybe not quiet - you know what I mean.”
Tech gives a hum of acknowledgment. “I understand. Between missions from Cid and maintaining a low profile, there’s been little else. Rest has been difficult.”
For him more so than most, you want to add. You can’t remember a time since joining the crew that Tech’s had more than a Powernap. You’ve found him curled up in the pilot’s seat a few times, or face down on his datapad for a couple clicks when things quiet down. But anything longer than that? Maker, you can't tell if that’s just a Tech thing or if the rest of the batch have the same struggle.
You wouldn’t blame them, not after everything they’ve been through.
“Though the amount of water brought back aboard is less than ideal, this brief excursion has been…” Tech trails off, like he’s trying to find the right word. “It’s…nice.” He decides and you chuckle.
“Eloquently put from a man of many words.”
You catch him rolling his eyes behind his goggles, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips, but he doesn’t comment further on the sarcastic comment.
Conversation lulls so your attention wanders elsewhere. The water around you has settled without several pairs of boots stomping through it. You can see why Wrecker thought they were just puddles - the only indication otherwise is the reeds that sprout up around the marshy underbrush, standing tall and almost glowing against the deep blue reflection of the-
Wait.
There’s a blue light beginning to glow between the reeds, which is new. You change directions; lying flat on your belly so you can peer over the edge into one of the little pools, trying to make out what the source of the light is and where it’s coming from. Tech begins leaning closer as if to pull you back from the edge.
“I wouldn’t advise-“ Tech goes to warn you but you beat him to it with an excited gasp.
“Fireflies!”
“What?”
Sure enough the source of the light is indeed fireflies, or at least, something that resembles them. There’s dozens of them; they weave in and out of the reeds, appearing from small pockets around the pools and slowly rising up into the darkened sky, generating a hazy blue bioluminescent light.
You lean back at the revelation, pushing yourself a safe distance from the waters edge as they begin to emerge and fan out across the terrain, their numbers increasing with every second. What had once been a sea of browns and greens, is now an artwork of azure blue.
There have been many wonders that you have come across exploring the galaxy, only multiplied further by the arrival of the batch. And yet sights like these never get old - little pockets of something far removed from the chaos of the universe just waiting to be discovered.
In another life you could stay here, longer than an hour, longer than a day, if only for the promise of such a sight waiting outside of the ship every night. But with that a distant wish you settle for just now, entranced by the vibrant hues that makes the whole place glow like it’s alive.
“It’s been a while since we’ve seen something pretty that hasn’t immediately tried to kill us.” Your sigh is wistful as you pull your legs up to your chest, chin resting on your knees as your eyes trace patterns of the lightshow generated by the myriad of luminescent insects.
“I agree. Though what you have found ‘pretty’ in the past has been notably questionable.”
You clutch your non-existent pearls at the jab, mouth aghast.“Really? Name one time I’ve been questionable!”
“I distinctly remember you calling a rancor ‘adorable”. The quotation marks Tech makes with his free hand earn him a glowering look as you jab an accusatory finger at him.
“Muchi was adorable!”
“Was that decided before or after almost being trampled in her rampage?”
…Fair point. That point of course is promptly ignored as the sky is suddenly far more fascinating than deigning him with a retort that just proves him right again.
With night rolling in, many of the fireflies have wandered from the marshes, meandering overhead and dotting about the skyline above you. They blend into the sky, merging alongside the myriad of stars until you can hardly differentiate the two in a canvas of breathtakingly dark hues. It’s a humbling kind of beauty, and you take your time idling the moments away admiring the sapphire speckles of light buzzing through the air for a while, mesmerized by the simple wonder before you turn to see if Tech’s watching too.
Only to stifle a chuckle.
A firefly has perched itself on the rim of Tech’s goggles, a tiny little thing that casts a soft blue glow over the yellow tint of his lenses. He hasn’t noticed, face still half buried in the datapad in his hands, laser focused on whatever he’s working on.
As much as you’d love to see how long it takes to notice his new companion, as the seconds tick by the urge to point it out is too great and a minute later you cave.
“Tech.” He hums in acknowledgment but doesn’t look up. It’s only by the third call that Tech finally deems it necessary to tear his gaze away from the device, and there's no hiding the little grin on your face when he tilts his head to face you.
“I think you’ve got something there.” you tap a finger beside your temple just above your right eye, mirroring where his goggles rest on his face.
Of course he connects the dots quickly, and on instinct Tech brings a hand up to adjust his goggles. You half expect the firefly to take off the second he does so, and though its wings flutter briskly to keep itself balanced it doesn’t budge. In fact the little bug uses the gesture as a bridge to climb across the frame and onto his glove, pattering delicately down the fabric before coming to settle on one of his knuckles, where it stops with a deciding flutter.
Whether emboldened by their fellow firefly or drawn in by its light reflecting off of Tech’s glove, it doesn’t take long for a few other fireflies to break from the formation above your heads and move to join the insect.
Before you know it, several of the little things have come to rest on the back of his hand, essentially using the clone’s hand as a landing pad. For what it’s worth Tech doesn’t even flinch at the development, even though the glow is now bright enough that he looks blue right up to his wrist.
If Tech wanted to, he could easily ward them off with a shake of his hand. Surprisingly, he doesn’t. Instead he places his datapad onto his lap, maneuvering his hand to better view these miniscule guests who have made his hand their temporary perch.
Fearless little things; they hardly move an inch as he does so. This time your laugh at his plight doesn’t go unnoticed and Tech gives you a side glance at the soft sound, wordlessly questioning what you find so amusing with an arched brow.
“They must like you.” You tease, grin a little squished with how your cheek presses against your knee when you tilt your head.
“Unlikely.” Tech is quick to dissuade you of the notion, no doubt pulling on the well of knowledge knocking around in his brain as he continues.
“It is merely a lack of socialization.” He explains, twisting his hand to allow you a closer look. “This planet would rarely see interference from outside influences, and natural predators are limited in such a way that they lack the reservations for caution. Simply put, they have no reason to fear us.”
You nod sagely, like you understood more than the last third of what he’d just said. You’re more focused on admiring the fireflies now that they’re a little closer. Though there’s some distance between the two of you, you can make out that the light the fireflies admit isn’t one stagnant color. No, they instead seem to cycle through several shades of blue - from azures to royal tints that remind you all too fondly of the tumultuous hues of deep oceans.
When you look up to point it out you’re surprised to find Tech's attention is solely on you. Warm brown eyes regard you intently through tinted lenses, and you instinctively give yourself a once over to check that you don’t have any bioluminescent plus-ones of your own. Upon finding none you’re puzzled and begin to ask what’s wrong; only to pause when he nods as though resolving an internal matter in his head.
“Very well - come closer.”
“What?” Brows furrowing your expression scrunches up in confusion. What is he-?
He doesn’t explain, instead shifting positions so that his whole body is facing you. “It will only take a moment. Just raise your hand - like so.”
Curiosity wins out and you do as he asks, scooting closer and holding out your hand with the palm facing upwards as Tech demonstrates. Your legs knock against the knee pads of his armor and you have to readjust yourself a few times to get comfortable, but eventually you get settled so you’re sitting face to face.
Satisfied with your cooperation Tech’s free hand moves to catch your wrist. It’s a small gesture, but your whole arm prickles like a shot’s gone through your system as you freeze. His touch is gentler than you’d anticipated but the weathered material of his gloves takes some getting used to as he steadies your hand, the warmth a stark contrast to the cool night air.
“Do I need to ask what you’re doing?”
“You can, though it is far easier to show you if you are patient. Now try not to move.”
Easier said than done when he’s holding your wrist like that, and even more so as he brings both hands to cover yours. Your gaze snaps up to Tech’s face, attempting to gauge what’s going through that brain of his. His expression is frustratingly neutral so you have nothing to clue you in on his train of thought. You’re about to bite the bullet and just ask when-
“There we go.”
“Huh?” blinking, you glance down at your connected hands and finally realize what he’d been doing.
The fireflies have taken advantage of the new connection and transferred from Tech’s hand to your own. They tickle as they pad across the bare skin of your palm, leaving it tingling in the wake of their tiny legs as they fan out along your palm. A faint prickle settles all the way up to your fingertips as they potter about, reminding you vaguely of static - you have to wonder if that’s got anything to do with the electrifying colors that they display.
You giggle, wiggling your fingers slowly and their wings flutter at the motion, that fascinating light flaring up brighter and bathing your fingers bright blue. No doubt your face paints a similar picture of the vibrant hue as you lean in to get a closer look, eyes alight in the dance of the emanating glow with a reverent awe.
“I believe they must like you too.” You catch the amused lilt in Tech’s voice as he speaks, breaking you from your reverie and echoing your own words back to you. You snort at the irony.
“Hey, that’s my line-“ you prepare yourself for another teasing jab, grinning despite yourself when you glance up and-
Oh. Oh. He’s a lot closer than before.
Tech’s hunched forward, assuming the usual posture when studying something of interest - definitely not good for his back, but that complaint has fallen on deaf ears for a few months at least. Now though he’s close enough that your faces are only a couple inches apart, and while Tech is focused on your hands you can’t tear your eyes away from him.
The soft blue glow of your surroundings highlights the sharper edges of Tech’s features, azure running along his cheeks and glinting off of his goggles turning them a deeper hue than the usual yellow. Beautiful, is the first word that comes to mind, eyes running along the curve of his jaw as he speaks.
“While it does not happen often, I must concede that you were right in your assessment.” There’s a hint of praise in his words, and that really doesn’t help your brain from overthinking this gesture.
It takes a second to remember how to breathe - since when has breathing suddenly become a conscious effort? Your inhale is sharp as you will your pulse to stop pounding in your ears - with no luck.
“Uh, Tech?”
“The bioluminescence they generate is both aesthetically pleasing and practical-”
“Tech you’re a bit-”
“-That is to say, yes, they are rather pretty.”
“Tech-”
“Yes?”
You startle at how fast his eyes are back on you, that intent gaze from before settled on you with enough intensity that you feel as though you’re under a damn spotlight. The hand cupping your wrist still holds you with a gentle firmness, and you’re pretty sure that your heart shoots straight up into your throat when you feel Tech brush his thumb along the radial pulse.
What were you even going to ask? Were you going to warn him of the close proximity? If you were you’ve no doubt that Tech would be quick to rectify the issue - but was it really an issue? Somehow the thought alone of him moving an inch away is a disheartening prospect.
You force the lump in your throat down, swallowing hard as your lips part with half formed thoughts before you think twice. “I…Tech, do you think-”
“HEY!”
A calmer person wouldn’t have jumped at the sudden interruption, would have heard the call coming from a mile away. You aren’t that lucky - you shoot up so fast that your head bumps against Tech’s with an audible click. The reaction is immediate, both you and Tech groan in pain; shooting away from each other to avoid any other potential collisions and the fireflies instantly scatter to the wind.
Fucking ouch.
You clutch at your head, the point of impact throbbing beneath your touch. That’s going to leave a mark for sure.
Your attention snaps over to the ship to locate the owner of the voice and cause for your newfound injury, just in time to catch Omega as she pokes her head around the hatch from inside the Marauder. Her hair’s curled thanks to the earlier dunk, messy blonde strands framing her face and slightly frizzed no doubt thanks to Hunter’s attempt to dry her off. The man probably scrubbed every last drop off of her poor kid.
“We’re ready to go!” She waves you over excitedly.
Just as quickly as she appears the young girl vanishes back within the ship’s interior, leaving you staring at the empty space she had just inhabited.
Just like her brothers - causes chaos and leaves just as quickly.
You look back over to Tech who is also clutching his own head; you’d gotten the worst of it, but the bump had clearly caused Tech some discomfort as well. He rubs the spot with a pout, wincing under the touch.
The situation is so silly, like something out of a holofilm and, despite the pain, you can’t help but smile a little. Still you at least have half the mind to make sure your skull hasn’t done any lasting harm to Tech. Once you’re sure there’s no more surprise interruptions imminent you shift to check in on Tech, bringing a hand to cup the side of his face angling his head to survey the damage.
“You okay? Didn’t cause too much damage did I?” His skin is a little rosy from the knock but thankfully there’s no imminent bruising - you don’t think anyone would be particularly happy with you if you’d injured the beloved brains of the group, Tech especially.
Tech waves off your concern with ease, though doesn’t pull away as you tilt his head this way and that. “I am fine, though the impact - while accidental - was less than desirable.”
An understandable sentiment, and an obvious one that makes you chuckle. “Well you can thank your sister for that one.” Saying this you give Tech’s cheek a pat, adding, “Or stay out of headbutting range next time.”
Tech huffs a little at the sarcasm but returns your smile with one of his own. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”
“I’m sure you will. Now come on before they decide to fly off without us.”
While you clamber back to your feet on the bank Tech is in no such rush, taking the time to retrieve his datapad before rising to his feet. You move to head back towards the Marauder, taking a few steps before realizing that you’re making the trip alone. Looking back you see Tech staring out over the glowing landscape for a final time, quickly typing something into the datapad now safely back in his hands.
Tech mutters something as he does so but you don’t catch what. A click later he’s seemingly satisfied with the result and clips the datapad back to its rightful place on his belt, catching up and coming into step beside you in a few brisk strides.
The idea of a peaceful walk back to the ship all but goes out of the window the second another shudder rocks the spacecraft, and Tech’s sigh is one of knowing resignation as his pace picks up. Making a beeline to the hatch you can practically see the gears in his head turning, already forming what you’re sure is a warning on why giving the ship more damage than what it landed with isn’t a good idea.
Shaking your head you follow behind, a smile still tugging at your lips as you prepare yourself for what you’ll find the moment you step onto the Marauder. No doubt a new brand of chaos - but you don’t think you’d have it any other way.
Oooh I’d love to write for some of these if you guys are up for requests! Mostly focusing on Star Wars stuff atm but feel free to send any you’d like to see! 🧡
Going absolutely feral over @gregorsmissingarmor's ocs/insert bc they're all GORGEOUS so ofc I had to doodle em.
Your art is literally scrumptious and has me doing laps round my house every time it crosses my dash thank you for letting me draw them!!! I hope I did them all justice 🧡🧡🧡
Doodles based on @sergeantbandana's god-tier headcanons about the Bad Batch and their tattoos!! Realized far too late that Hunter's is on the wrong arm akdjsklakdafdsk but just pretend it isn't ok
Original post: https://www.tumblr.com/sergeantbandana/711457440262144000/headcanon-time?source=share
I like to think that Haarlep would display affection through quality time. While physically touch would obviously play a non-insignificant part in a relationship with Haarlep, that would be true about any kind of relationship with the incubus including hateful and/or nonromantic/nonplatonic relationships. Spending time with you and only you, even when steamy times are not even remotely involved, is a sign that, one way or another, you're important to the incubus.
Oh I absolutely love this idea! Haarlep definitely gives physical affection vibes but I could definitely see them showing affection through domestic moments and quality time.
Ended up writing something for this bc I thought it was cute 🧡
=
Warnings: None really aside from the insinuation to Haarlep's encounter at the House of Hope.
=======
You don’t know what to make of the arrangement you’ve found yourself in.
The dull embers of the indoor lamps occasionally crackle with life, just bright enough to make the book you’re reading legible – not ideal, but in your travels you’ve worked with far less. You’ve been curled up in the same spot since the late afternoon, if you were to hazard a guess. In all honesty, your only gauge of the time had been the sun which had once cast vibrant streaks through your windows, a sun whose last dregs of light have long since sunk behind the buildings surrounding your humble abode by the time you glance up from where you’re curled up on the sofa.
Craning your head back, the dull click at the base of your neck is a tell-tale sign that you’ve been here far too long. No doubt your spine will be cursing your name the next morning for the crime of poor posture.
Not that you can move right now anyway, as the warm body draped over you reminds you.
Speaking of.
Smoothing your fingers over your current page you feel a shift beside you and your gaze falls to the incubus nestled against your side.
Haarlep’s head had come to rest upon your shoulder at some point, having gradually advanced from the one end of the sofa where they had once been to being a breath away from outright lounging over your front. You’ve long grown used to accommodating the horns, angling your head to avoid where the ridges are sharpest though they still catch on the collar of your shirt whenever they move.
A clawed hand rests on the armrest close to your waist, alongside their tail which seems content to remain draped along your leg, occasionally reminding you of its presence with periodic taps against your knee. The other hand has snagged one of yours, sharp nails gently dragging along the skin of your wrist and forearm mapping every freckle and mark. There’s no urgency, no rush to the lazy circles and patterns that tickle the skin in a way that makes you huff in the wake of their touch. Without a second thought you twist your hand around in their hold to give them better access in their pursuit, and you don’t need to see to know that they grin at the gesture.
They seem vaguely interested in the book you’ve been thumbing through for the better part of the afternoon, though you know better than to assume a simple tale will keep them entertained for much longer. Haarlep is rather fickle about staying put, you’ve learned. Gods knows how they remained in the House of Hope for so long without going stir crazy.
You pause, fingers stilling in their path along a crease in the book’s spine at the thought. Months had passed since the impromptu break into Raphael’s home. Running into an incubus of all things lounging around in Raphael’s boudoir hadn’t been what you’d expected to find in the escapade. But they hadn’t outright killed you, offering a coy grin as they’d motioned you over to the canopy bed with the crook of a finger. So you’d improvised.
It was mutually beneficial. You got the information that you needed to find what you’d been tearing the house apart for, and Haarlep was provided an entertaining reprieve from the horrendous sex they’d put up with for decades; a fact that they were more than happy to share and you were more than happy to spit in Raphael’s face on your way out. Rightfully, you assumed that would be the last time you’d see the incubus again. It’s not as though they had any further reason to stick around, right?
The persistent weight and warm exhales you feel against your neck says otherwise.
A nudge pulls you from your reverie. Haarlep doesn’t need to look up to know your eyes on them now.
“You’ve stopped turning.” There’s a lilt in their voice as though the act itself is frustrating. You have to bite back the urge to smile. A few hours ago they were trying to pry the damned thing from your hands to get your attention away from it, but now they seemed likely to take your hand if you so much as tried putting it down.
“I’m surprised you’re not bored yet.” You muse, your words earning you an inclination of their head as they look up at you. Their eyes are alight in the dim lighting, a faint orange glow offering a stark contrast to the dark slits of their pupils as they stare into you.
“Me? Bored? Perish the thought.”
Your eyes narrow and you quirk a brow, not believing that for a second. The grin that they shoot back reveals sharp teeth with the curl of their lip, and the hand tracing patterns halts to wrap around your wrist as they move to prop their chin upon your shoulder.
“If you’re not content, I could always find something far more fun for us to do~”
Saying this you feel their tail begin creeping up your thigh, the tip knocking against your hip as it curls around your side. With a snort you playfully swat the offending tail away and Haarlep snickers; it’s all in good fun, as it usually is with the meddling incubus.
You take the opportunity to free one of your legs from underneath you, and almost immediately hiss at the twinge of protest from neglected muscles. Okay this had been fun, but there was no more putting off the inevitable. Moving to sit upright – or as upright as you can get with an incubus swathed over you like a blanket – you slip your shoulder from under them. Haarlep catches themself quickly but clearly doesn’t appreciate the lack of warning giving you a questioning look.
“Move over; I need to walk around a bit.”
The explanation does nothing to convince them. Instead they let out a hum; an unspoken ‘is that right?’ as they unceremoniously flop back into your side and turn their attention back to your book.
“Do you? I’d say you look rather comfortable.”
“My back would disagree.”
They only lean into you a little harder in response, essentially caging you against the sofa for good measure and you groan as they bring a finger to run along the book feigning interest.
“Just a moment – this passage is absolutely riveting-“
“Haarlep-”
“Weren’t you the one who insisted on finishing this-“
“Haarlep!”
“Fine, fine.”
Finally, reluctantly, Haarlep slinks further back on the sofa, relinquishing just enough space that you can finally move. The book hits the furniture with a dull thunk swiftly forgotten as you stretch out. There’s a pop between your shoulder blades and the relief is palpable, a satisfied sigh passing your lips at the much needed ease upon your muscles.
When you rise to your feet the accompanying pop of your knees is arguably less welcome. The look Haarlep squares you with is pitying as they slink effortlessly off of the furniture to follow.
“It’s a miracle you don’t pop a joint free from its socket.” They tut; making a point to stretch to demonstrate that they have no such issues. “Is that a curse all mortals share, or are you just unlucky?”
“Blame the adventuring.” you deadpan rolling your shoulders. “Months of slugging through muck, guts and mould isn’t exactly conductive to a healthy lifestyle.”
With another end of the world scenario safely avoided in your little pocket of the world you’ve begun hanging up your fighting days, hoping to take advantage of the little peace you and your companions had fought tooth and nail for. It’s taken time to fall back into a domestic routine but you’ve adjusted, though you still find yourself getting used to waking up to a roof above your head instead of open air.
“Need some air.” You mutter, glancing over to the window where the glow of the lamplights greet you. “Markets will probably be closed by now.”
“A shame. Would have been fun.”
You blink. “You wanted to come with me?” You could only imagine the kind of chaos seeing an incubus of all beings would cause. A fun thought, but Haarlep shakes their head and gestures to themselves as though the answer is obvious.
“These forms are just as good for disguises as they are entertainment.” Haarlep chides as though you should know better. Maybe you should have.
“I hadn’t thought about that. That’ll be useful next time we’re out.” The thought rolls around in your head, tucked to the back for future reference as you pad over to the front door.
Of course Haarlep’s right behind, ever content to go where you go. You’d think with all of the time freed up with Raphael’s death they’d be all over the place, making connections and chasing pleasures. Instead they hover over your shoulder, a hand idly brushing along your hip as you slip on your shoes.
Stepping out of their grip you move to grab your keys from the door hook, only pausing long enough to cast a final look at the incubus. There’s far less straps than their usual outfit, but with the crown of horns and imposing wingspan they’ll turn heads even at a distance. Haarlep catches your stare and gives a small dramatic turn to flaunt the look.
“What do you think?”
“I think you’ll give the nosy neighbours a heart attack.”
Haarlep’s head tilts back with a cackle as a hand flies to their chest.
“Oh if only-“
Even as you roll your eyes you find yourself unable to hide your grin as you unlock the front door and nudge it open with your hip. This time you’re the one urging them forward with a curl of your finger, stepping out into the sleeping city with the ever present incubus hot on your heels, ever present at your side.
Congratulations on your 650 followers Vodika! I bring you a request. May I please have a fairy tale AU with Jango Fett. Jango is the king of Mandalore and he hires you as his son's caretaker. As you spend more time with Boba and Jango the two of you fall in love with one another and even though you are just a commoner and Jango can have any woman he wants all Jango wants is to marry you and make you his queen.
Once again congratulations Vodika! I look forward to reading all of your requests once they are finished ❤️
Cin Vhetin
Summary: After losing your well-paying career as an in-home nanny due to a lie, you’re forced to move in with your older sister just to make ends meet. You’re about to give up on ever finding another job when your sister brings you an opportunity that you can’t turn down.
A/N: Alright, I've had this mostly written for days now, I just couldn't get the final section to come out right. But I'm finally happy with it! So I hope you like it!
“I’m home~”
You look up from where you’re putting the finishing touches on tonight's dinner as your sister waltzes into the kitchen, a broad grin on her face. “Welcome back,” You greet tiredly, “You’re in a good mood, Rayne.”
“Of course I am, I got to see my future husband-”
“You mean the one who doesn’t know you exist? That future husband?”
“Hush, stop raining on my parade.” She spins around the kitchen, as though she’s still a teenager and not a woman nearing forty. “Anyway, I saw my beloved. And we had a conversation.”
“Oh?”
“He asked me if I wanted two loaves of bread or if one would be enough for tonight.”
“Sis, that isn’t talking, that’s him doing his job.” You counter with a roll of your eyes, “But continue.”
“It’s a step up.” She huffs as she stops spinning and flings her arms around your shoulders in a tight hug, “But, much more importantly. I signed you up for an interview at the palace tomorrow.”
“You what?!” You spin and glare at her, “An interview for what?”
“Don’t freak out,” She says as she jabs her finger in your face, “I’m doing you a favor.”
“Rayne!”
She rolls her eyes, “As you know, King Jango now has an infant son, and he needs a skilled nanny for Prince Boba. And you, my darling baby sister, are a skilled nanny and governess.”
“Yeah, aside from the fact that I was fired from my last job.”
“Okay, so you weren’t fired because of anything you did, first of all. Those people lied about you and ruined your reputation, and this is an excellent way to repair that.” Rayne says as she places her hands on her hips, “Also, I know you’re doing your best to get a job and everyone is denying you because of the rumors, but I really think that this is the way to go.”
“If I get denied because of this lie—”
“You won’t,” Rayne reassures. “Your skill speaks for itself. And the King is rumored to be a discerning man.” She places her hands on your shoulders, “Will you go?”
You sigh, “Yeah. Okay.”
She squeals and flings her arms around you, “Oh, you won’t regret this, I know it.” Rayne releases you and claps her hands in front of her face, “Now, your interview is at the end of the day tomorrow, do you have a proper outfit to wear? I know you prefer your tunics, leggings, and boots. But do you have any skirts?”
“You know I don’t.” You say with a sigh, “I have a nice tunic and leggings that I can wear tomorrow. It’ll be fine.” Rayne opens her mouth to say something, but you cut her off, “I know you’re worried, but my clothes will be fine.”
She sighs and folds her arms, “I know, I know. I just…you’ve been so unhappy since you lost your last job. I’ve been worried.”
You make a face, “Well, the rumors weren’t kind to me, Rayne.”
“No, they weren’t.” She takes your hands and squeezes them, “I’ll leave you to your cooking, alright? I need to tend to the garden and then get cleaned up. Call me when dinner is done?”
“I always do.”
Rayne smiles at you and turns to leave the room, and then she pauses and looks at you, “Vod’ika,” you start at the familiar word falling from her lips, “Our buir’e would be proud of the woman you’ve become. I know I am.”
Your face heats and you avert your gaze, “You think so?”
“I know so.” Rayne hurries over to you and presses a light kiss to your temple. “Now, I do have to tend to the garden. Are you good?”
You smile at her, “Yeah. I’m good.” You watch as she leaves the room and then turn your attention back to the meal you’re preparing. You are so lucky that your sister is such an amazing person. You’re never going to be able to pay her back.
The next day, your sister walks you to the palace, where you join the veritable army of other women who have applied for the position. “Are you sure you don’t want me to wait?” Rayne asks as she tucks some hair out of your face, “I don’t mind.”
“I’m sure. You have better things to do than wait hours for me to finish my interview, Rayne. And I know you have some things you need to do.”
“Well, yes-”
“Don’t worry about me.” You reassure her, “I’ll be okay. I’ve done this before after all.”
Rayne sighs, “Alright. I’ll see you this evening then. I love you.”
“Love you too.” You watch as Rayne hurries into the crowd and you settle back to wait for your turn. You know it’ll be a long wait.
King of Mandalore, Jango Fett, leans back in his chair as the most recent interviewee is escorted from the room. He pinches the bridge of his nose as he tries to stem the growing migraine.
“Well, this is going splendidly,” Miles notes dryly, “Half of those women have never seen a child, and the other half would be bad fits for living in the palace.”
Jango grunts, and then drops his hand, “You heard the woman who claims that children need a firm hand?”
“Oh yes,” Miles’ smile isn’t nice, “I made a note of that.”
“How many more?”
“Just the one,” Miles replies.
“And what do we know about her?”
“She’s quite the talented nanny,” He replies, “Has been caring for children since she was a child, used to Nanny for the Kryze clan.”
Jango lifts his head, “Used to?”
“There were some allegations of inappropriate behavior. Rumors and hearsay, mostly. Though, there are quite a few notes here, from a lot of people, indicating that those rumors and allegations are nothing more than lies.”
“Shocking, someone from the Kryze family lying.”
“Hm, if only we could power your kingdom with sarcasm-” Miles counters, just as sarcastically.
“Yeah, yeah.” Jango glances at the peacefully slumbering Boba, and then looks at Miles, “Well, we might as well get this over with. Call her in.”
Miles nods, once, and leaves the room.
He’s gone for almost five minutes, though Jango knows that’s because Miles is doing his pre-screening. Something that he started after the second woman let slip that she was looking for a title and a crown.
Honestly, he’s never going to get used to these leeches. Being a member of the royal family is hardly worth all that.
He sits up when the door opens, and Miles steps into the room, looking very smug. Trailing behind him is a young woman. Her hair is neatly pulled out of her face, and her clothes are neat, but don’t hang overly loose.
And, unlike most everyone else, her gaze skips right over him to focus on Boba.
That, by itself, moves her to the top of the list.
“The last applicant, your Majesty,” Miles says with a gesture towards the young woman, and then he bows and leaves the room.
“His name is Boba,” Jango says, “He’s only a couple of weeks old.”
The corners of her lips turn down thoughtfully, “Forgive me for saying so, but having such a young baby around so many people is not safe for him.”
Jango leans back in his seat, and a small smirk plays on his lips. Negative reputation or not, his estimation of her is going higher and higher. “I haven’t been allowing anyone to hold him.”
“Well, that’s something I suppose.” She finally turns her gaze to him and offers a shallow, but respectful curtsy. “I apologize, then.”
“There’s no need for that.” Jango scans her thoughtfully. She is young, but she looks tired. And her clothes hang on her, as though she’s recently lost a lot of weight. Or the clothes used to belong to someone else. “You were looking out for my son.”
He picks up her resume and motions for her to take a seat, which she does.
“I have your resume here,” He says, “And, honestly, I have a hard time believing that you don’t already have a job. Nannying since you were a teenager. A qualified governess in your own right. You’ve nannied for some very big names over the years. The most recent being the Kryze clan.”
“That’s all accurate, yes.” She replies, though her lips tighten at the mention of her previous employers.
Jango sets the resume down on the table, “Based on your qualifications, you’re more than qualified for the job.” he says lightly, “But, understand, Boba is my only son. So I have to ask about these rumors-”
She winces and her shoulders curl in on her, “What would you like to know?”
There’s something like resigned defeat in her voice, and Jango finds himself not liking it. “What happened?”
Absently she rolls the hem of her sleeve between her fingers, “I was hired as the Nanny and Governess for Korkir Kryze three months before he was born.” She explains quietly, “I prepared the nursery, made sure that the house had everything it needed, and when he was born, I was the first one to hold him. I don’t think the Duke or the Duchess ever held him.”
“Go on.”
“I can’t remember a single instance of his parents ever being in the same room as Korkie for longer than it took for a photo op or a meal.” She continues, “When he started talking, he called me mom. The Duchess…” She trails off, “She wasn’t happy about it.” She finally says.
“They fired you.”
“And spread rumors that I was a Noble Hunter and that I tried to seduce the Duke.” She bristles slightly, “I would never. I have enough self-respect to not try and poach from another woman-”
Jango holds up a hand, “Peace.”
She quells, though she still looks very unhappy.
“What happened after you were fired?”
“I moved in with my sister, it’s where I’ve been living.”
Jango nods thoughtfully, “This position comes with a series of rooms in the palace,” He explains, you also get two days off a week, days that you can set. You will be responsible for Boba during the day when I’m working, but you’ll only need to take him in the early mornings, evenings, or at night if I’m indisposed for some reason.”
She blinks at him, “Wait, you mean-?”
He smiles, “The position is yours, we’ll work out the rest of the hard details a bit later.”
“Thank you!”
His smile widens, “Would you like to hold Boba?”
She immediately walks over to the infant and allows Jango to place him in her arms. He watches as she adjusts his weight with the ease of someone who’s been caring for children for a long time.
“Time for the grand tour,” Jango says, “Follow me please.”
You settle into your new routine with ease. King Jango is a fine father and an even better man. He never treats you as if you’re less than him, and he listens to you if you say that there’s something wrong with Boba, or if you note that something needs to be changed.
In the 6 months that you’ve worked for him, you come to realize that you’ve never been as comfortable working for a family as you do when working for the King.
And yes, there is something of a small crush there. But you would never dream of risking your job in the hopes of catching his eye.
At 6 months old, Boba can roll over in both directions, and he babbles, though he still isn’t quite at the talking stage. More importantly, he’s learned stranger anxiety. Luckily, you’re not a stranger and he reaches for you as often as he reaches for his father.
Right now, though, Boba’s asleep in his crib and you’re organizing his nursery.
It’s one of the few nights where Jango isn’t able to put Boba down for the night, though, knowing the King, he’ll pop in as soon as he’s done in his meeting.
And, true to your expectations, half an hour later the nursery door opens.
The King offers you a tired smile, and then walks over to the crib to peer down at the baby, “How was he today?”
“A little grumpy.” You reply, “But he settled around noon time.”
“That’s good.” You watch as Jango smoothes a curl off of Boba’s forehead, “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to put him down for the night.”
“It happens,” You reply lightly, you slip a couple more diapers into the drawer, and then you glance at him, “It’s been happening a lot these last couple of weeks.” You note, almost absently.
It’s an offer for him to confide in you if he wants.
Jango sighs, “It has, yes.” He falls silent for a moment, “I know I only hired you to take care of Boba, but it’d be nice to have someone to talk to. Someone who’s not involved.”
You finish folding Boba’s clothes and put them in the dresser before you turn to look at him, “I’m always happy to listen, Jango.” You make sure the baby monitor is on, and then follow him out of Boba’s nursery and into Jango’s suites.
You sink onto one of the plush couches as he offers you a glass of juice, before he sits next to you, “The Council, and Miles, are pushing me to get married.” Jango says.
“I wasn’t aware that you had a partner,” You note thoughtfully as you take a sip of the juice and set the cup on the table.
“I don’t. That’s the problem.”
“You’re the King, if you want them to stop just tell them.”
“Sadly, it doesn’t work like that. They have lists of women who might be interested in marrying me, but—” He shakes his head.
“But you’re not interested.”
“I’m not blind, I’m well aware that I could have any noblewoman that I wanted. The problem is that I don’t want any of them.”
“May I ask why not?” You ask, curious.
“Boba.”
You exhale slowly, “Okay, that’s fair.”
“Plus, I have no interest in firing you. And the last thing I want is to put you in another situation like the Kryze situation.”
“That’s kind of you, Jango. But I really shouldn’t be a consideration in this.”
“Why not? You’re basically Boba’s mother at this point.”
You laugh softly, “That’s going to get me in trouble, I know it.”
Jango leans back for a moment, his dark eyes scanning you, “I lied.”
“About?”
“Not wanting any woman specifically.” Jango clarifies, “There’s one woman I’m interested in.”
“Okay, so you should talk to her.”
“I am.”
“Oh. Oh!” Your face heats and you press your hands against your cheeks, “Me. You mean me.”
Jango chuckles softly, though there’s nothing unkind there, “I do mean you.”
“But I’m just a nanny.”
“So? My parents were farmers, it was my adoptive dad who made me King.” Jango shifts on the couch so that his knees are almost touching you, “Boba loves you. And you’ve managed to keep me sane these last six months.”
“I don’t know anything about ruling a kingdom.”
“You don’t have to, that will remain my job.” Jango’s warm fingers brush against your cheek, “Tell me you’re not interested, and I’ll never mention it again.”
You stare at him, “I just…why me?”
“Because you’re you. Because the idea of you not being in my life makes me miserable.” Jango’s fingers slide across your lips.
“People will make assumptions—”
“Let them. So long as we both know the truth,” Jango leans in, his lips hovering just over yours, “You are the one I want. The only one I want.”
A soft sigh falls from your lips, “Jango—”
You’re not able to finish your thought, as his lips catch yours in a gentle, almost chaste, kiss. Your hands come up to lightly press against his cheeks, and then one of your hands slides to card through his curls.
Jango releases a low groan, the kiss deepening as he leans you back, so you’re lying on the couch and he’s supporting his weight on his elbows. He lightly nips your lower lip and then soothes the sore spot with his tongue.
You don’t mean to release the breathy whine at the feel of his teeth against you, but you do, and Jango practically collapses on you with a deep appreciative moan.
His lips move to your throat, and you gasp when he bites down on the sensitive skin located there, intent on leaving a mark.
You know that he would keep going and that you would let him when the baby monitor releases a little noise, and you both still at the sound of Boba waking up.
He stares down at you, and you blink up at him, “I need to go get him,” You whisper.
“Yeah.” Jango kisses you one more time, “We’ll have to continue this later. If you want?”
“Well,” You smile at him shyly, “I wouldn’t say no.”
He flashes an eager, and boyish, grin. “I can’t wait,” Jango murmurs as he climbs off of you and allows you to grab the baby monitor to hurry to the nursery.
And, when Jango joins you in the nursery half an hour later and wraps himself around you to watch you take care of Boba, you’re really not surprised. Just like you’re not surprised when his arms slide tightly around your waist and he holds you tightly.
You know that it’ll be a change, being in a relationship with the King. But you find yourself excited about the change, rather than anxious.
Just dropping by to say that you do such a good job with the asks about, for lack of a more eloquent way of putting it, Tav's with some kind of gimmick (Silver Dragon Tav and Sibling Tav to name two examples). It's really fun and enjoyable to read what you come up with and I always look forward to them! 🫶 Thank you!
aaaaaa you're too sweet thank you so much for dropping in with such kind words!!! 🧡🧡🧡 I am an absolute sucker for any kind of specific gimmicks so they're a pleasure to write for!!!
I'm excited to make more in the future as well! I do hope that you'll enjoy the ones to come dear anon! 🧡
hi! before I request something, I was just wondering if you write chubby/plus sized readers?
Hiyya hun! Of course I write for plus sized readers! I am more than happy to fufill any requests just be sure to add it to the ask and I'll gladly make it for you! :D
rules: answer + tag 9 people you want to get to know better and/or catch up with
Many thanks for the tag @hugmekenobi ❤
Favorite colour?
I love deep shades of red and purple
Last song?
Lost in Paradise by ALI, absolute banger idc
Currently reading?
No books lately (I know I'm so bad) but I've read a lot for work lately (very technical, boring stuff)
Currently watching?
I'm watching Jujutsu Kaisen, Star Wars Rebels and Bridgerton!
I'm also rewatching random episodes of The Clone Wars and The Bad Batch because of my writing
Currently craving?
A gelato milkshake with a lot of whipped cream on top
Coffee or tea?
The Italian in me says coffee, but like a very nice iced latte
Tags: @tbbtechlover @waywardsou2 and anyone else who wants to join!
rules: answer + tag 9 people you want to get to know better and/or catch up with
Aww Midnight, thanks for the tag :)
I'm doing it in a chain because I prefer those. They are fun. Hope that's ok!
Favourite colour?
I like deep shades of Green. Like the colour you would see in a pine forest. I also really like blue the colour you would see in the sky at dusk. Brown like you see on trees and black like you would see in the ashes of a fire.
Last Song?
I woke up singing Half Empty Girl by Eliza and The Delusionals. But let me check my Spotify - Experience by Ludovico Einaudi, it is a beautiful acoustic song with only volin. It is magical and I recommend it to anyone!
Currently Reading?
The Witcher - Blood of Elves I believe. I think it's his backstory. The book is full of short stories all about Geralt. It's not the official first book tho. Although I haven't picked up the book in months.
Currently Watching?
The bad batch :) for the second time :)
Currently craving?
...chicken nuggets
Coffee or Tea?
I don't drink coffee. I was addicted to it for a while but that was just because I was purposely fucking up my sleep schedule. I didn't even like it that much. I drink tea darling, green tea specifical
rules: answer + tag 9 people you want to get to know better and/or catch up with
Favorite colour?
• Yellow, Blue, and Green are my favorites right now!
Last song?
• July - Noah Cyrus (goin through a moots playlist)
• But I've been listening to No Angels - Stellar & Home - Good Neighbors a lot lately :3c
Currently reading?
Honestly only Tech fanfics
Currently watching?
• An octopus documentary mainly :') but I just started Ace Attorney and I'm chronically always rewatching Soul Eater
Currently craving?
• Honestly honey garlic chicken and rice. And popcorn. Always
Coffee or tea?
• Coffee! I like both but I just drink coffee more- to be more specific my favorite order at my local cafe is usually an iced lavender latte or one of their summer specials :D
Favorite Animal (I wanted to add this so I could ramble lmao I'm so sorry feel free to ignore this)
• Bonnethead Sharks!!! The world's only omnivorous shark, the first recorded cartilaginous fish to have a pup via parthenogenesis, the smallest of the hammerhead family, and the only known shark to have sexual dimorphism of the head (female: smooth n rounded || male: bulge) though it's only prevalent in adults though all juveniles and pups have smooth rounded cephalofoils. They're super cool, but sadly they're endangered as a result of overfishing and the international shark fin trade.
I only have 8 if I'm not including @tbbtechlover who already added me- sorry!! This is just for fun, don't feel pressured to participate if you don't want to!! Message me if you don't like moot games and I'll remember for next time :)c
rules: answer + tag 9 people you want to get to know better and/or catch up with
Favorite colour?
I adore anything and everything orange! Vibrant yellows too are such pretty colors to look at.
Last song?
Could have been me by The Struts
Currently reading?
I've been reading the Metro series on an off for the past couple weeks between breaks, definitely invested in em right now.
Currently watching?
The bad batch! I'm on season 2 rn and it's amazing! Also I know this technically doesn't count as watching but I'm getting back into the Magnus Archives again lmao.
Currently craving?
Would kill for some garlic chicken kievs right now tbh
Coffee or tea?
Definitely tea! Put a cup of tea and a pack of digestives in front of me and I'm more than happy lmao
Favorite Animal (this was a cute addition to the tag game ofc I had to do it too!)
I love Armadillos! Unfortunately they're not native to my country but they are literally so cute and it brightens my day whenever I see them on any kind of animal documentary.
@cakeboxie @vodika-vibes @imabeautifulbutterfly @felswritingfire @avocado-writing @bruh-myguy-what @wanderer-six and anyone else who wants to join! No pressure to join though! And I'd also love to get to know everyone in this thread better 🧡🧡🧡
