She's coming in 🔥HOT🔥 doing a shameless self-promotion. 🤌🏻
✨️ Hey, mootie patooties! I go by K. 27. Dark-side user. Married with three adorable, furry children. I intend to use this outlet as a free-for-all for fanart, fanfiction, and safe space to vent about my ever-growing laundry list of hyperfixations! Whatever is trending, I most-likely follow it. Asks are open for Bad Batch one-shot requests. Don't be shy. Let's create chaos together. ✨️
☆ Same user on A03 & Wattpad ✍️🏻
☆ Click the link below to check out my Bad Batch OC, Alexei! 💜👇🏻
💬 0 🔁 1 ❤️ 1 · Tech × Alexei (OC) · [I haven't even written this scene yet BUT OH BOY does it keep playing in my head.]
Also. HC that Tec
I didn't expect messy curls English accent Oscar Isaac to appear on my bingo card twice in one lifetime but here we are and my elbow pits are already sweating.
I'm trying my best not to fall away from my craft because I was REALLY on to something. I require validation. I need to know that I'm actually REACHING people with my writing and not just putting my best work out there when no one is around to indulge in it. Dis shit frustrating frfr. I need to lock tf IN.
Omega rating the snuggle comfort of the batch during bedtime
Written in her POV
Hunter- 3.5/5
Wakes up super easily
Hard to match breathing with
Bonus point for trying his best not to disturb me
Wrecker- 5/5
Big, but I don’t have to worry about falling since he holds me in place
Spreads out, I have lots of nooks to curl into
Super warm
Lula
Perfect, first choice
Echo- 4/5
Perfect size feel
Lack of legs leaves me good ventilation
Skin texture is unique—in a good way
Twitches more than the others
Overall, nearly perfect
Crosshair- 3/5
Once he falls asleep in his bed he is out for the night
Sometimes I wonder if he’s dead
Pretends he doesn’t like it, but I broke Hunter and will break him too
Not bad
Tech- 1/5
Hardest part is finding him in a comfortable position
Moves around way too much
Stays up super late
Bonus point because he tries not to move around as much when I’m comfortable, and he goes to sleep earlier for me
Phee suggested I put my entire body weight on his chest/torso, but I think I’m too small and don’t weigh enough.
Batcher- 1/5?
Good girl deserves a pity point
She’s great to nap with during the day
But at night she does not stop licking her paws. Ever.
Hunter doesn’t like her being on the bed anyway
=========
This was inspired by Izutsumi from Delicious in Dungeon who rated snoozing with her party members. I thought it was very cute and wanted to do the same with Omega and her brothers.
Hi!!! I wanted to come back and tell you that your blog and writing brings me so much joy 🫶🏻💗 if you don’t mind, could I maybe make a request please? I LOVED your fractured fault fic so so much!! Could I please request something with crosshair and tech like that one that is soft and fluffy, maybe them having a day off and just relaxing/cuddling or literally anything you want! You are amazing 🥹
One Bunk
Written by @ohheycallmek
Tech x Crosshair x OC (Alexei)
-------------------------------
Alexei should have known better than to eagerly volunteer to assist in a side mission with Tech and Crosshair at the helm. The job was fairly simple. Hand over the goods, recieve their credits, head back to Ord Mantell, and to quote Cid, “make it snappy”. However, a very minor miscalculation had landed them in dire straits. They needed a place to lay low for a while and the closest destination was a dingy single room outpost sequestered on the outskirts of an unexplored planet.
Tech's chest plate unlatched with a click, the rainwater rushing off the cool metal and into various puddles on the floor. Crosshair sauntered over them in disgust, slamming his cargo down onto the floor.
“The unfortunate reality of the situation is that this was, in fact, the only viable option.” Tech noted, peeling his goggles off and rubbing his thumb and forefinger against the foggy transparisteel.
With a disgruntled huff, he tried but failed to wick away the moisture. Alexei's hair stuck slick like purple flames against the frame of her face, chills rising all too quickly. She splayed her fingers over her cheeks with an exaggerated groan.
“Well, isn't this lovely.” Crosshair's voice resounded like a hiss between his teeth, “One bunk. No heat. No electric. No thanks.”
He crossed the tiny room in a single leg's length, ripping his gloves off to inspect the contents of the faucet. He flicked it on in a single, swift motion and instantly recoiled as it hit his digits.
“Ice cold. Dammit.”
Alexei snaked her arms out of their soaked sleeves and shook her jacket out, a wild series of expletives murmured beneath her breath. She slapped her comm against her thigh in an attempt to conjure its spirit back to life. No use.
“Hunter…Hunter, come in…Hunter? Ugh. Great. This thing's fried.”
Tech reached for her link, eyeing it from all ends, goggles stationed back over his eyes, “No, not fried…reception seems to be low in this particular region.”
“Oh, even better!” Crosshair exclaimed, hands raising to the ceiling theatrically.
Alexei shook her head as she began to wring out her blacks, the moistened fabric curling effortlessly in on itself.
“Well, one of you can have the ‘luxury suit’ and the other can crash in a makeshift bed on the floor. I can just keep watch. I'm a night owl anyway.” She noted.
“Absolutely not, kid. You need your sleep just as much, if not more, than either one of us.” Crosshair noted, his boots punctuating with a soppy squelch as he toed them off one by one.
Alexei's brows knit intensely as she pulled a sock off, the sad, wet fabric looking like an ocean creature on the sea floor as it landed against the cracked wooden floorboards with a splat.
“It's okay…r-r-really…” Her words stuttered between the sudden onset of teeth chitters.
Crosshair's arms wrapped like a shield around himself in a failed attempt to protect himself from the dangerously lowering temperature, “K-karabast, Tech. It really is fr-freezing in here.”
Tech anxiously ran his fingers through the fringe of cropped hair hanging loose across his forehead, “This is only a t-te-temporary solution to keep shelter from the rain. If we intend to conserve heat, it is i-imperative that we sh-share the bunk.”
Crosshair let out a long breath through his nose, clearly unamused, “So what? We all cram onto that sorry excuse of a m-mattress like a pack of t-tooka kittens?”
Tech placed his datapad against the rickety bedside table before removing his holster and scouring their luggage for clean clothes.
“That is the most eff-efficient solution. Shared body heat will prevent core t-temperature loss.”
Alexei hesitated, eyes flitting between the two men, “We’ll all f-fit?”
“We will make it work,” Tech said with quiet finality, pulling his shirt over his head with grace and shimmying a dry one on, “Unless, of course, you’d prefer to r-risk hypothermia. S-st-statistically, the choice is clear.”
Only a few moments later, Alexei was strewn like the meatlink center of a wronto wrap between two, stubborn pieces of genetically-modified pita. Despite the exhaustion clinging to her like a shapeless cloud, her eyes kept staring up into the ceiling and her body ached from her feeble attempt to keep her limbs to herself. While the discomfort of cold stutters left their voices, the tension of shared space remained prominent.
“Alexei,” Crosshair murmured from her left, “You’re practically preparing for liftoff back there.”
She shuffled in place, “I'm just-...attempting to get comfortable.”
Tech tapped idley on his datapad, turned away from both of them, “Her kinetic restlessness is stress-induced.”
She flipped over to him, propping herself up, “I'm not stressed. It's just hard to get settled when I'm the garnish of a clone-baked burrito.”
Crosshair pulled back and jabbed an elbow into her spine, his body smooshing closer, “You're ewok-sized, kid. You'd fit in our cargo pack.”
“And you have unforgivably pointed kneecaps. Move back a little, sniper boy.”
Alexei huffed as she spoke, pulling the thin, woolen blanket tighter around her shoulders. It didn’t take long for her to realize that her fist had balled up a single, sad corner of fabric while the rest was wrapped around Crosshair's lanky form.
“Cross’.”
Silence.
“Cross’.”
Nothing.
“Crosshair!" She snapped, jabbing her arm into the lump stationed beside her, “You’re hogging the entire blanket!”
A low, mumbled grunt emerged from the mass. “You're sandwiched between heat sources, you said so yourself. I'm sure you can manage.”
She shoved him harder but he barely moved. Even in the pitch black of the room could she detect Crosshair's all too obvious grin.
“I swear to the stars…Tech, are you hearing this?”
“Yes. I'm choosing to observe from a distance rather than intervene.”
“Unbelievable.” She scoffed.
Tech placed his device on the bedside table and reached up to remove the goggles from his face, exhaling deeply as if peeling away what remained of the evening. Alexei's fingers spooled through her ration of blanket, a small, knowing smirk pulling on her lip. Without delay, her leg motioned to the left ever so slightly, the arch of her icy bare foot finding the curve of Crosshair's calve.
"Dank farrik, woman! What is wrong with you?” Crosshair's voice resounded between a hitch of breath, his jolting body creaking the entire cot.
Alexei laughed, toes wiggling like smug, little ice cubes against his skin, “I told you I was cold!”
“Maker, if I die in this bed due to frostbite on my a-”
“Then you'll die surrounded by friends. Consider that happy thought.”
Tech cleared the sleepless rasp from his throat, “If you are cold, Alexei, you may move closer to me. Thermoregulation is important.”
He flipped onto his back, a single arm casually outstretched as an invitation, his hand gesturing her forward. She stuck her teeth between her lower lip in contemplation. Tech nodded subtly as if to give further permission.
She slid over tentatively, letting herself lean into him. She settled against the lean, soft plane of his stomach. His hand came to rest lightly against her, his touch calculated and certain.
From across the way, Crosshair’s voice cut through the quiet like a viroblade ripping through silk.
“Adorable. Maybe next time you’ll remember to pack an extra spread instead of unresolved tension.”
Alexei's leg kicked back like a bucking tauntaun, hitting him square in his backside.
“Ow! You rascal!”
“Watch your mouth, boney butt.”
×
A moment later, the room had settled into the barely audible hum of breath. Alexei's temperature was beginning to level out slowly, her body subconsciously seeking Tech's chest as one leg looped lazily over his. Crosshair was curled in a loose fetal position against her back, a good portion of blanket still glued to him.
Tech attempted to shuffle his position, realizing soon after that a slick moisture had soaked to his skin.
The source? Alexei.
Sound asleep, face half-buried in his chest, mouth parted ever so slightly. Drool glistened from her puckered lips like distant galaxy stars onto his undershirt.
He stared down at her and then moved his gaze to the ceiling. Then his eyes flit back to the damp spot, practically gawking.
“…Fascinating.”
“What now?” Came Crosshair’s annoyed, sleepless voice, partially muted by the pillow smothering the side of his face.
“She's...salivating.” Tech replied flatly.
There was a pause.
Then laughter.
Crosshair couldn't hold it back, spinning around to view them both, “And that’s what you get for being the favorite.”
“I am not the favorite.”
Alexei's body loosened around him, her ear pressing further, the even thudding of Tech's heart like a distant lullaby as she fell even farther into a dreamless sleep.
“The evidence is clear as kyber crystal, vod.”
Tech frowned, attempting to inspect the damage, but the shift in his body only caused Alexei to snuggle in deeper. Another line of spit steamed from her mouth like a slug on concrete.
“Stars.” Tech's nostrils flared in partial disgust, “It seems as though her aim is remarkably strategic.”
“She’s practically using you as a salt lick,” Crosshair noted smuggly.
“Test me again and I will gladly roll her onto you.”
“Try me,” He snarled. “I’ll just roll her back.”
Alexei gave a tiny, unbothered murmur of contentment, then smacked her lips and wiped her face instinctively against the comfortable fabric.
“…It seems as though I will require a decontamination shower…potentially two.” Tech whispered.
“Should I grab the medkit?” Crosshair asked innocently.
“Shut up,” Tech sighed, eyes rolling.
They both lay there as the steady flicker of lights outside the window created a luminescent glow across the room. The only sound of note was the rhythmic, unyielding rattle of water against the sides of the outpost building.
“Tech?” Crosshair's voice resounded, his bitterness lost, tone stripped of its typical edge.
“Yes?” Tech's voice was equally as subdued.
“Do you remember the first time we met her?”
Tech blinked, chin pressing into the top of Alexei's head as he reminisced, “Certainly…Cid’s back room. She was brandishing a ration bar like a weapon, standing her ground against Wrecker of all people. He didn't even say much. He just offered her a seat at the bar with a large, open palm and that signature, goofy grin of his. She was practically vibrating in fear. She must've thought he was a rancor.”
Crosshair chuckled gently, shoulders shaking, “It wouldn't be the first time someone's made that mistake.”
Tech reached up to run hills along Alexei's shoulder blades, slow and methodical, fingers delicate.
“...She thought we were going to use her…like everyone else in that place had.” He noted, his matter-of-fact nature becoming more organic as he peered down at her breathing in waves.
Crosshair hummed in agreement, “She never sleeps well. It's like her body is in constant fight or flight mode. The poor thing runs on caffeine and sarcasm.”
Tech shifted slightly, careful not to wake her. “But not tonight.”
“No, not tonight.” Crosshair echoed.
A fragile silence stretched between them like a line of soldiers.
“I-...don’t think I understood how empty it truly felt until she came along,” Crosshair noted, “All those missions…the constant relocation…”
Tech turned his head slightly toward him in the dark, “It was never truly empty. We had each other. She was just a piece we didn't realize we needed until we were lucky enough to recieve her.”
Crosshair gave a tired chuckle, eyes half-lidded, “You always did say it better.”
“No,” Tech said gently, pressing his lips undetected into Alexei's hair as if to pocket the moment, “I just take my time to understand it.”
x
It was well past midnight at this point. The infantile outpost room was steeped in blanketed shadows and the disjointed warmth of shared sleep. It was in that partial silence that it happened.
A low, guttural grind followed by a sharp inhale, and then a wavering beat of silence. Distant machinery? The walls slowly disintegrating?
And then again.
Hrrghnk-hhkrrh.
“Oh no.”
Tech didn’t move, but he answered grimly, sleep evading him now, “Oh yes…Crosshair seems to have entered his…final form.”
Hrrrrrghnk-kh-kh-kh.
Alexei blinked all the essence of sleep away and spoke in a groan, “Is he snoring or detonating?”
“No one knows for certain. I have my theories.”
Alexei turned her head just slightly, catching a glimpse of Crosshair’s face behind her…peaceful, for once, ever-present scowl erased. His browline had smoothed over. It was as if the universe had finally stopped pressing in on him from every angle.
She flipped back around, and that’s when she noticed it…a warm, crusting dribble at the edge of her mouth.
“Oh…no no no.” She whispered, her hand flying to press her fingers to her lips, “I-...drooled on you.”
Tech glanced down, then back at her, expression unreadable, “Ah. Yes. Indeed you did.”
Her face flushed with horror, cheeks fading to pink, “Kriff…I'm so sorry.”
He shook his head from side to side, adjusting his arm around her, “You are quite fine.”
She peered up at him, embarrassment ever-present, but the kindness in his eyes made the situation feel far less mortifying. His thumb brushed just lightly over the exposed skin of her shoulder.
“Besides,” He added, “I’d much rather endure a bit of drool than the apparent seismic activity occurring on your opposite side…”
HHHHRKHHHK.
She winced, “Maker. That’s awful. Worse than Wrecker even.”
“His bunk is directly across from mine. He does this occasionally. Once, on Daro, he snored so loudly Echo thought we had made a crash landing. It practically shook the durasteel.”
Alexei muffled a laugh into her sleeve. “Should we-...nudge him?”
“I wouldn’t. He gets rather hostile if his sleep cycle gets-”
HHHHHRRRRRRRRRRNK.
“...Interrupted.” He finished deadpan.
Eventually, the cacophony died down and the room settled again.
“I don’t remember the last time I felt like this.” Alexei sighed deeply, fingertips tracing down the center of his sternum.
“Like what?”
She stopped the action for only a moment, "Perfectly safe...on an unknown planet, no less. Tired…but not in a post-mission kind of way. It's almost as if-...as if I'm-...floating. If the galaxy caved in on itself at this very moment, swallowing us whole, for whatever it's worth, I suppose I wouldn’t feel like I missed out on anything. I'm...content."
Then, gently, “We’ve lived each day preparing for the worst, it’s easy to forget that the uneventful meters of time matter just as much.”
“They matter more.”
Tech nodded, "I suppose that they do."
"Tech?"
"Hm?" His eyes were beginning to close now, the pressure of her body against his urging him to rest.
"...Thank you. For letting me in like this. For not shifting away like you do most people.”
He seemed to consider her words like he always did, with such precision it was actively criminal, "You were...extremely comfortable. I didn't wish to disturb you.”
Her smile deepened, “Still. Most people wouldn’t be so accommodating...especially when spit is involved.”
“I am not most people,” He said, almost absently, and she could hear the faint click of pride behind the words.
“No,” She whispered back, “You’re not.”
A pause.
“You know you’re kind of good at this…right?”
His brows pulled together. “At what?”
"This. Being safe. Being…warm.” The word felt clumsy tumbling past her teeth, but it was true all the same.
Tech's stomach rapidly dropped below his knees at her words, his heart stuttered momentarily before resuming a slightly more heightened rhythm. He hoped she couldn't detect it.
"I-...was unaware that I could be that person for someone." He tried but failed to keep his voice from hitching.
"Well, you are...to me."
×
Alexei awoke to warmth…deep, enveloping, dangerously tantalizing warmth. Her face was pressed into soft, scarred skin. Strong arms loosely cradled her, the apex pulse against her cheek was more calming than she’d ever dare to admit aloud.
She yawned audibly, stretched her arms ever so slightly, and it was then that she realized she was not holding who she thought she was…
Slowly, cautiously, she cracked one eye open.
Bare chest. Pale skin. The dark, delicate sweep of a sniper tattoo branded over the expanse of his ribs.
Stars.
Not Tech.
No. Not even close.
Her legs were practically fused to Crosshair's like expertly tangled rope. His arm was draped possessively against her hip bone. Her hand was placed delicately across his stomach, rising and falling with each inhalation of breath. Her ankle was tucked between his thighs, losing feeling by the minute.
She didn’t move. Not right away. Maybe if she stayed perfectly still, the planet would suddenly hit the rewind button. Ten minutes or so is all she would need to place her right back to where she definitely recalled falling asleep; on Tech’s chest, stuck fast in data-scented underclothes and polite, awkward arms.
Crosshair shifted slightly and pulled her in tighter. She didn't dare to breathe. She couldn't tell if it was her heart hammering, or his. Maybe, just maybe, she could slither away without-
“Good morning, starshine.” Came his gravelly voice; smokey, low and annoyingly smug.
She froze.
He hadn’t even opened his eyes yet. The bastard knew.
“…Hi…?” Her voice was meek, questioning.
A beat.
“For someone with shoulders so tense, you’re surprisingly cuddly when you’re unconscious.”
“I-...I thought you were Tech!” She exclaimed.
Crosshair cracked one eye open, brow raising, “Wow. Isn’t that crushing.”
Alexei scrambled back like she’d touched a live wire, rapidly padding the opposite side of the bed. It was empty. Cold.
“Tech?”
Tech, fully dressed and sipping a coffee by the wall, didn’t look up from his datapad as she floundered about.
“You rolled over approximately two hours ago and latched onto Crosshair like a purring loth cat.”
“Two hours?! And you let me?!”
“I found it…statistically interesting.”
Crosshair stretched, looking far too pleased with himself. “Not a terrible wake up call, sarad.”
Alexei muddled a sorry excuse for a pillow into her palms before chucking it at Crosshair's head, “I can't stand you.”
Tech glanced up now, tilting his head, “I’m compiling footage, if you’d like to review the cuddle migration later.”
Alexei groaned and flopped onto her belly, arms and legs sprawled like a defeated fish, “I wonder if I have to put in a request for a new squad.”
“It's too late for that, sweetheart,” Crosshair said, arms behind his head nonchalantly, “You’re ours now.”
Alexei turned her head to the side, one eye obscured by the fall of her hair, the other glinting up at Crosshair. A small, undeniable smile stretched across her lips.
I am OBSESSED with this!!!!!!!!!! 😭🩷 thank you for accepting my request and writing the absolute best cutest soft and fluffiest thing ever 😭 can I be Alexei please?😂🩷 I feel like some Tech and Crosshair snuggles would heal my soul. I can’t even tell you how much I love this 🫶🏻 how is your dialogue so perfect?? Like the conversations are witty and emotionally perfect and cute and you are so talented!!! I am going to re read again tomorrow when my friend isn’t in town and send some of my favoritest parts if thats okay?? 💗
@precioustech This might be my favorite comment on a thing EVER. I am SO glad you liked it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Honestly, dialogue always comes first before anything else and I recieve the MOST fulfillment out of crafting something that, to me, sounds in universe/in character. I'm SO happy that my silly, little fluff piece could brighten your day. A lot of myself is poured into Alexei, so my journey with her has become incredibly therapeutic. I look forward to more requests in the future. By all means, DO NOT be shy...AND YES, PLEASE TELL ME ALL OF YOUR FAVORITE PARTS BECAUSE I WOULD LOVE THAT MORE THAN ANYTHING! 😭😭💕💙
Andor makes me want to write a Star Wars fanfiction but it's so scary. What if I write "Glup Shitto was sitting on the balcony, drinking coffee and reading his favourite book", but someone comments "didn't you mean he was drinking glop-goppy and reading a holo-journal? 🤨" so I open wookiepedia to check it out and it turns out that they also never invented balconies in the star wars universe and Glup Shitto can't read because of the freak accident he suffered in the episode 10 of the 2024 show "Jar-Jar and Babu Frik". What then.
Hi!!! I wanted to come back and tell you that your blog and writing brings me so much joy 🫶🏻💗 if you don’t mind, could I maybe make a request please? I LOVED your fractured fault fic so so much!! Could I please request something with crosshair and tech like that one that is soft and fluffy, maybe them having a day off and just relaxing/cuddling or literally anything you want! You are amazing 🥹
One Bunk
Written by @ohheycallmek
Tech x Crosshair x OC (Alexei)
-------------------------------
Alexei should have known better than to eagerly volunteer to assist in a side mission with Tech and Crosshair at the helm. The job was fairly simple. Hand over the goods, recieve their credits, head back to Ord Mantell, and to quote Cid, “make it snappy”. However, a very minor miscalculation had landed them in dire straits. They needed a place to lay low for a while and the closest destination was a dingy single room outpost sequestered on the outskirts of an unexplored planet.
Tech's chest plate unlatched with a click, the rainwater rushing off the cool metal and into various puddles on the floor. Crosshair sauntered over them in disgust, slamming his cargo down onto the floor.
“The unfortunate reality of the situation is that this was, in fact, the only viable option.” Tech noted, peeling his goggles off and rubbing his thumb and forefinger against the foggy transparisteel.
With a disgruntled huff, he tried but failed to wick away the moisture. Alexei's hair stuck slick like purple flames against the frame of her face, chills rising all too quickly. She splayed her fingers over her cheeks with an exaggerated groan.
“Well, isn't this lovely.” Crosshair's voice resounded like a hiss between his teeth, “One bunk. No heat. No electric. No thanks.”
He crossed the tiny room in a single leg's length, ripping his gloves off to inspect the contents of the faucet. He flicked it on in a single, swift motion and instantly recoiled as it hit his digits.
“Ice cold. Dammit.”
Alexei snaked her arms out of their soaked sleeves and shook her jacket out, a wild series of expletives murmured beneath her breath. She slapped her comm against her thigh in an attempt to conjure its spirit back to life. No use.
“Hunter…Hunter, come in…Hunter? Ugh. Great. This thing's fried.”
Tech reached for her link, eyeing it from all ends, goggles stationed back over his eyes, “No, not fried…reception seems to be low in this particular region.”
“Oh, even better!” Crosshair exclaimed, hands raising to the ceiling theatrically.
Alexei shook her head as she began to wring out her blacks, the moistened fabric curling effortlessly in on itself.
“Well, one of you can have the ‘luxury suit’ and the other can crash in a makeshift bed on the floor. I can just keep watch. I'm a night owl anyway.” She noted.
“Absolutely not, kid. You need your sleep just as much, if not more, than either one of us.” Crosshair noted, his boots punctuating with a soppy squelch as he toed them off one by one.
Alexei's brows knit intensely as she pulled a sock off, the sad, wet fabric looking like an ocean creature on the sea floor as it landed against the cracked wooden floorboards with a splat.
“It's okay…r-r-really…” Her words stuttered between the sudden onset of teeth chitters.
Crosshair's arms wrapped like a shield around himself in a failed attempt to protect himself from the dangerously lowering temperature, “K-karabast, Tech. It really is fr-freezing in here.”
Tech anxiously ran his fingers through the fringe of cropped hair hanging loose across his forehead, “This is only a t-te-temporary solution to keep shelter from the rain. If we intend to conserve heat, it is i-imperative that we sh-share the bunk.”
Crosshair let out a long breath through his nose, clearly unamused, “So what? We all cram onto that sorry excuse of a m-mattress like a pack of t-tooka kittens?”
Tech placed his datapad against the rickety bedside table before removing his holster and scouring their luggage for clean clothes.
“That is the most eff-efficient solution. Shared body heat will prevent core t-temperature loss.”
Alexei hesitated, eyes flitting between the two men, “We’ll all f-fit?”
“We will make it work,” Tech said with quiet finality, pulling his shirt over his head with grace and shimmying a dry one on, “Unless, of course, you’d prefer to r-risk hypothermia. S-st-statistically, the choice is clear.”
Only a few moments later, Alexei was strewn like the meatlink center of a wronto wrap between two, stubborn pieces of genetically-modified pita. Despite the exhaustion clinging to her like a shapeless cloud, her eyes kept staring up into the ceiling and her body ached from her feeble attempt to keep her limbs to herself. While the discomfort of cold stutters left their voices, the tension of shared space remained prominent.
“Alexei,” Crosshair murmured from her left, “You’re practically preparing for liftoff back there.”
She shuffled in place, “I'm just-...attempting to get comfortable.”
Tech tapped idley on his datapad, turned away from both of them, “Her kinetic restlessness is stress-induced.”
She flipped over to him, propping herself up, “I'm not stressed. It's just hard to get settled when I'm the garnish of a clone-baked burrito.”
Crosshair pulled back and jabbed an elbow into her spine, his body smooshing closer, “You're ewok-sized, kid. You'd fit in our cargo pack.”
“And you have unforgivably pointed kneecaps. Move back a little, sniper boy.”
Alexei huffed as she spoke, pulling the thin, woolen blanket tighter around her shoulders. It didn’t take long for her to realize that her fist had balled up a single, sad corner of fabric while the rest was wrapped around Crosshair's lanky form.
“Cross’.”
Silence.
“Cross’.”
Nothing.
“Crosshair!" She snapped, jabbing her arm into the lump stationed beside her, “You’re hogging the entire blanket!”
A low, mumbled grunt emerged from the mass. “You're sandwiched between heat sources, you said so yourself. I'm sure you can manage.”
She shoved him harder but he barely moved. Even in the pitch black of the room could she detect Crosshair's all too obvious grin.
“I swear to the stars…Tech, are you hearing this?”
“Yes. I'm choosing to observe from a distance rather than intervene.”
“Unbelievable.” She scoffed.
Tech placed his device on the bedside table and reached up to remove the goggles from his face, exhaling deeply as if peeling away what remained of the evening. Alexei's fingers spooled through her ration of blanket, a small, knowing smirk pulling on her lip. Without delay, her leg motioned to the left ever so slightly, the arch of her icy bare foot finding the curve of Crosshair's calve.
"Dank farrik, woman! What is wrong with you?” Crosshair's voice resounded between a hitch of breath, his jolting body creaking the entire cot.
Alexei laughed, toes wiggling like smug, little ice cubes against his skin, “I told you I was cold!”
“Maker, if I die in this bed due to frostbite on my a-”
“Then you'll die surrounded by friends. Consider that happy thought.”
Tech cleared the sleepless rasp from his throat, “If you are cold, Alexei, you may move closer to me. Thermoregulation is important.”
He flipped onto his back, a single arm casually outstretched as an invitation, his hand gesturing her forward. She stuck her teeth between her lower lip in contemplation. Tech nodded subtly as if to give further permission.
She slid over tentatively, letting herself lean into him. She settled against the lean, soft plane of his stomach. His hand came to rest lightly against her, his touch calculated and certain.
From across the way, Crosshair’s voice cut through the quiet like a viroblade ripping through silk.
“Adorable. Maybe next time you’ll remember to pack an extra spread instead of unresolved tension.”
Alexei's leg kicked back like a bucking tauntaun, hitting him square in his backside.
“Ow! You rascal!”
“Watch your mouth, boney butt.”
×
A moment later, the room had settled into the barely audible hum of breath. Alexei's temperature was beginning to level out slowly, her body subconsciously seeking Tech's chest as one leg looped lazily over his. Crosshair was curled in a loose fetal position against her back, a good portion of blanket still glued to him.
Tech attempted to shuffle his position, realizing soon after that a slick moisture had soaked to his skin.
The source? Alexei.
Sound asleep, face half-buried in his chest, mouth parted ever so slightly. Drool glistened from her puckered lips like distant galaxy stars onto his undershirt.
He stared down at her and then moved his gaze to the ceiling. Then his eyes flit back to the damp spot, practically gawking.
“…Fascinating.”
“What now?” Came Crosshair’s annoyed, sleepless voice, partially muted by the pillow smothering the side of his face.
“She's...salivating.” Tech replied flatly.
There was a pause.
Then laughter.
Crosshair couldn't hold it back, spinning around to view them both, “And that’s what you get for being the favorite.”
“I am not the favorite.”
Alexei's body loosened around him, her ear pressing further, the even thudding of Tech's heart like a distant lullaby as she fell even farther into a dreamless sleep.
“The evidence is clear as kyber crystal, vod.”
Tech frowned, attempting to inspect the damage, but the shift in his body only caused Alexei to snuggle in deeper. Another line of spit steamed from her mouth like a slug on concrete.
“Stars.” Tech's nostrils flared in partial disgust, “It seems as though her aim is remarkably strategic.”
“She’s practically using you as a salt lick,” Crosshair noted smuggly.
“Test me again and I will gladly roll her onto you.”
“Try me,” He snarled. “I’ll just roll her back.”
Alexei gave a tiny, unbothered murmur of contentment, then smacked her lips and wiped her face instinctively against the comfortable fabric.
“…It seems as though I will require a decontamination shower…potentially two.” Tech whispered.
“Should I grab the medkit?” Crosshair asked innocently.
“Shut up,” Tech sighed, eyes rolling.
They both lay there as the steady flicker of lights outside the window created a luminescent glow across the room. The only sound of note was the rhythmic, unyielding rattle of water against the sides of the outpost building.
“Tech?” Crosshair's voice resounded, his bitterness lost, tone stripped of its typical edge.
“Yes?” Tech's voice was equally as subdued.
“Do you remember the first time we met her?”
Tech blinked, chin pressing into the top of Alexei's head as he reminisced, “Certainly…Cid’s back room. She was brandishing a ration bar like a weapon, standing her ground against Wrecker of all people. He didn't even say much. He just offered her a seat at the bar with a large, open palm and that signature, goofy grin of his. She was practically vibrating in fear. She must've thought he was a rancor.”
Crosshair chuckled gently, shoulders shaking, “It wouldn't be the first time someone's made that mistake.”
Tech reached up to run hills along Alexei's shoulder blades, slow and methodical, fingers delicate.
“...She thought we were going to use her…like everyone else in that place had.” He noted, his matter-of-fact nature becoming more organic as he peered down at her breathing in waves.
Crosshair hummed in agreement, “She never sleeps well. It's like her body is in constant fight or flight mode. The poor thing runs on caffeine and sarcasm.”
Tech shifted slightly, careful not to wake her. “But not tonight.”
“No, not tonight.” Crosshair echoed.
A fragile silence stretched between them like a line of soldiers.
“I-...don’t think I understood how empty it truly felt until she came along,” Crosshair noted, “All those missions…the constant relocation…”
Tech turned his head slightly toward him in the dark, “It was never truly empty. We had each other. She was just a piece we didn't realize we needed until we were lucky enough to recieve her.”
Crosshair gave a tired chuckle, eyes half-lidded, “You always did say it better.”
“No,” Tech said gently, pressing his lips undetected into Alexei's hair as if to pocket the moment, “I just take my time to understand it.”
x
It was well past midnight at this point. The infantile outpost room was steeped in blanketed shadows and the disjointed warmth of shared sleep. It was in that partial silence that it happened.
A low, guttural grind followed by a sharp inhale, and then a wavering beat of silence. Distant machinery? The walls slowly disintegrating?
And then again.
Hrrghnk-hhkrrh.
“Oh no.”
Tech didn’t move, but he answered grimly, sleep evading him now, “Oh yes…Crosshair seems to have entered his…final form.”
Hrrrrrghnk-kh-kh-kh.
Alexei blinked all the essence of sleep away and spoke in a groan, “Is he snoring or detonating?”
“No one knows for certain. I have my theories.”
Alexei turned her head just slightly, catching a glimpse of Crosshair’s face behind her…peaceful, for once, ever-present scowl erased. His browline had smoothed over. It was as if the universe had finally stopped pressing in on him from every angle.
She flipped back around, and that’s when she noticed it…a warm, crusting dribble at the edge of her mouth.
“Oh…no no no.” She whispered, her hand flying to press her fingers to her lips, “I-...drooled on you.”
Tech glanced down, then back at her, expression unreadable, “Ah. Yes. Indeed you did.”
Her face flushed with horror, cheeks fading to pink, “Kriff…I'm so sorry.”
He shook his head from side to side, adjusting his arm around her, “You are quite fine.”
She peered up at him, embarrassment ever-present, but the kindness in his eyes made the situation feel far less mortifying. His thumb brushed just lightly over the exposed skin of her shoulder.
“Besides,” He added, “I’d much rather endure a bit of drool than the apparent seismic activity occurring on your opposite side…”
HHHHRKHHHK.
She winced, “Maker. That’s awful. Worse than Wrecker even.”
“His bunk is directly across from mine. He does this occasionally. Once, on Daro, he snored so loudly Echo thought we had made a crash landing. It practically shook the durasteel.”
Alexei muffled a laugh into her sleeve. “Should we-...nudge him?”
“I wouldn’t. He gets rather hostile if his sleep cycle gets-”
HHHHHRRRRRRRRRRNK.
“...Interrupted.” He finished deadpan.
Eventually, the cacophony died down and the room settled again.
“I don’t remember the last time I felt like this.” Alexei sighed deeply, fingertips tracing down the center of his sternum.
“Like what?”
She stopped the action for only a moment, "Perfectly safe...on an unknown planet, no less. Tired…but not in a post-mission kind of way. It's almost as if-...as if I'm-...floating. If the galaxy caved in on itself at this very moment, swallowing us whole, for whatever it's worth, I suppose I wouldn’t feel like I missed out on anything. I'm...content."
Then, gently, “We’ve lived each day preparing for the worst, it’s easy to forget that the uneventful meters of time matter just as much.”
“They matter more.”
Tech nodded, "I suppose that they do."
"Tech?"
"Hm?" His eyes were beginning to close now, the pressure of her body against his urging him to rest.
"...Thank you. For letting me in like this. For not shifting away like you do most people.”
He seemed to consider her words like he always did, with such precision it was actively criminal, "You were...extremely comfortable. I didn't wish to disturb you.”
Her smile deepened, “Still. Most people wouldn’t be so accommodating...especially when spit is involved.”
“I am not most people,” He said, almost absently, and she could hear the faint click of pride behind the words.
“No,” She whispered back, “You’re not.”
A pause.
“You know you’re kind of good at this…right?”
His brows pulled together. “At what?”
"This. Being safe. Being…warm.” The word felt clumsy tumbling past her teeth, but it was true all the same.
Tech's stomach rapidly dropped below his knees at her words, his heart stuttered momentarily before resuming a slightly more heightened rhythm. He hoped she couldn't detect it.
"I-...was unaware that I could be that person for someone." He tried but failed to keep his voice from hitching.
"Well, you are...to me."
×
Alexei awoke to warmth…deep, enveloping, dangerously tantalizing warmth. Her face was pressed into soft, scarred skin. Strong arms loosely cradled her, the apex pulse against her cheek was more calming than she’d ever dare to admit aloud.
She yawned audibly, stretched her arms ever so slightly, and it was then that she realized she was not holding who she thought she was…
Slowly, cautiously, she cracked one eye open.
Bare chest. Pale skin. The dark, delicate sweep of a sniper tattoo branded over the expanse of his ribs.
Stars.
Not Tech.
No. Not even close.
Her legs were practically fused to Crosshair's like expertly tangled rope. His arm was draped possessively against her hip bone. Her hand was placed delicately across his stomach, rising and falling with each inhalation of breath. Her ankle was tucked between his thighs, losing feeling by the minute.
She didn’t move. Not right away. Maybe if she stayed perfectly still, the planet would suddenly hit the rewind button. Ten minutes or so is all she would need to place her right back to where she definitely recalled falling asleep; on Tech’s chest, stuck fast in data-scented underclothes and polite, awkward arms.
Crosshair shifted slightly and pulled her in tighter. She didn't dare to breathe. She couldn't tell if it was her heart hammering, or his. Maybe, just maybe, she could slither away without-
“Good morning, starshine.” Came his gravelly voice; smokey, low and annoyingly smug.
She froze.
He hadn’t even opened his eyes yet. The bastard knew.
“…Hi…?” Her voice was meek, questioning.
A beat.
“For someone with shoulders so tense, you’re surprisingly cuddly when you’re unconscious.”
“I-...I thought you were Tech!” She exclaimed.
Crosshair cracked one eye open, brow raising, “Wow. Isn’t that crushing.”
Alexei scrambled back like she’d touched a live wire, rapidly padding the opposite side of the bed. It was empty. Cold.
“Tech?”
Tech, fully dressed and sipping a coffee by the wall, didn’t look up from his datapad as she floundered about.
“You rolled over approximately two hours ago and latched onto Crosshair like a purring loth cat.”
“Two hours?! And you let me?!”
“I found it…statistically interesting.”
Crosshair stretched, looking far too pleased with himself. “Not a terrible wake up call, sarad.”
Alexei muddled a sorry excuse for a pillow into her palms before chucking it at Crosshair's head, “I can't stand you.”
Tech glanced up now, tilting his head, “I’m compiling footage, if you’d like to review the cuddle migration later.”
Alexei groaned and flopped onto her belly, arms and legs sprawled like a defeated fish, “I wonder if I have to put in a request for a new squad.”
“It's too late for that, sweetheart,” Crosshair said, arms behind his head nonchalantly, “You’re ours now.”
Alexei turned her head to the side, one eye obscured by the fall of her hair, the other glinting up at Crosshair. A small, undeniable smile stretched across her lips.
Star Wars: These are the clones. They're soldiers, warriors, they're bred for war and absolute dangerous killing machines. They're tough and loyal and hard to beat. Theyre-
Fandom: Baby boys? 🥺 Little Babys who need love and care 🥺 ? Brothers with parental instincts that I will protect with my life and soul 🥺 ? Sweet pure innocent boys-
The effect of size or height on the mammalian brain is one of the easiest to explain from an evolutionary perspective; those who appear to take up more space pose an obvious threat.
Additionally, when someone is significantly taller than others, it can create a sense of comparison or inferiority among those who are vertically challenged. This feeling of being overshadowed can contribute to perceptions of intimidation.
Now, what do you suppose you are afraid of, pet? Is it my commanding physical presence or the fact that, in some cultures, height is associated with authority and leadership?
I love how Yoda’s first inclination when Luke crashes into his self imposed exile is to just absolutely fuck with him. He proceeds to rummage through his shit and pester him and beat his droid with a stick and talk nonsense while stealing his food and when Luke is understandably testy with him Yoda turns to Obi-Wan’s force ghost and goes this fuck ass kid is an impatient bitch just like his dad.
Could you write a mega soft Tech fic where Y/N deals with overstimulation/panic attack/anxiety post-mission? Have him still be his analytical, proper self but have him deeply understand the need for physical comfort/intimacy in these moments. Grounding, hugs, forehead kisses, hand-holding, head-to-chest, etc. ❤️
solitude
tech x gn reader
summary: tech comforts you after a difficult mission.
warnings: none
a/n: hehe tysm i sincerely apologize for the delay on this :((
divider by @dollywons <33
The faucet sputters before a jet of water rushes over your palms, cold and striking like the struggled gasp that heaves your chest as you hang your head low in front of the bathroom mirror. You can hardly breathe through the quick splashes you try to drown yourself in, muffling any noise heard beyond the closed door behind you. But the noise in your head grows louder, and it feels dizzy like you’re out of balance. Like the floor is slowly but surely caving below your feet, luring you toward an inescapable darkness.
Coming back up for air, you brace your hands on either side of the tiny sink while still panting in waves that overtake the previous with no mercy. It’s hard to keep yourself upright when your legs are close to giving out, shaking like the rest of you. You don’t notice when the door opens, but seeing a figure in the mirror triggers the impending drop of your stomach. It’s not exhilarating like entering or leaving hyperspace. It’s just awful, squeezing out your sanity as this pain ebbs and flows through your blood. There’s no open wound to explain this feeling, though. Only your own mind as it traps unwanted memories inside of you.
“You’re needed at the bridge,” you hear over a methodical sound of fingers against a screen, “Hunter’s orders.”
“Can he give me a minute?”
You attempt to sound irritated, but all Tech hears is exhaustion. Your voice is small, devoid of its usual energy and strength. He looks up from his datapad, wide-eyed with curiosity rather than immediate concern, until you lean over the sink on the verge of collapse. Nausea sinks its claws into your throat as the world spins, but it’s really just you losing sight of what’s in front of you. You hardly register when your knees buckle, even more unaware when he surges forward, even though this bathroom isn’t big enough for more than one person at a time. The sound of his datapad clattering to the ground is jarring, but not nearly as much as the sudden weight of his arms around you. He sinks to the floor without letting go of you, holding you to his chest.
“Let go,” you mumble, squirming slightly before a restless thrash jerks your entire body, “Please. I can’t—”
He turns you so that you’re now facing him, loosening his grip on your shoulders. You’re not sure what’s preventing you from seeing clearly—the water from the sink or your own tears—but one pair of eyes remains clear among the haze. They’re brown and kind, and they look at you as if knowing what’s passing through your mind right now.
“I can’t do this anymore,” you sob, “I’m not like the rest of you. I can’t pretend I’m not scared shitless when things go wrong like that—”
Uncharacteristically wordless, Tech brings a soft cloth to your face and wipes both carefully and patiently. He’s not looking at you directly anymore, almost avoiding your gaze as your shaky breaths interrupt your rambling. His mouth twitches nervously when he pauses his movements near your lips, deciding not to clean you there. Leaning back a little, he asks, “What gave you the impression that this isn’t difficult for us, too?”
“Huh?” You whisper weakly, glancing up at him.
He purses his lips before shaking his head. “You’re in shock. Hunter’s request isn’t as urgent as he makes it sound, so I’ll inform him of your inability to—”
“What? No—” You try to stand as panic seizes your lungs, “I’m fine. I just—I just need a minute—”
He stares at you when you slump back to the ground while mumbling, “I’m fine. It’s fine—stop looking at me like that.”
Your hands come around your head, covering your ears from the echoing screams that feel so near with how loud you hear them. It doesn’t seem like you’re safe on the Marauder when your mind remains on the battlefield, worn down and afraid after constant survival.
“Stop,” you bite out even though his presence has been made so minimal that you almost forget he’s still here, “Just stop—”
You cut yourself off in surprise when he pries your arms away before tentatively cupping your face. His fingers aren’t fully touching your skin, hovering with caution, but you feel the cool sensation as light as it is. A teardrop rolling down your cheek catches against his thumb, which he catches in a swift outward motion. You look at him with uncertainty, leaning away from his touch despite how safe it feels. But when he asks, “Would you mind if I held you for a moment?” you answer by closing your eyes and giving in to the tension trembling through your body. It loosens and relaxes, allowing you to go limp in his responding embrace once he feels your compliance.
His heartbeat is strong against your back as you release the excess of your cries, swallowing hard with increasing desperation for air. You listen for this rhythm subconsciously until he says, “Breathe at my pace.” So you do, following his calm inhales just to exhale everything back out with him.
“Tell me five things you can see.”
You open your eyes in narrow slits, barely letting the light above your head infiltrate your vision. “Um…the ceiling…the walls…the sink…the mirror…”
“One more.”
Lowering your head a bit, your hands find his as they rest against your torso. “And…you.”
He’s quiet for a beat before continuing, “Now, four things you can touch.”
“Um,” you take a deep breath and feel your surroundings, “The floor.”
“My clothes,” you fist your rumpled jacket, “Um…the wall again. Right here.”
“And…you,” comes the last whisper.
His posture stiffens behind you, but he doesn’t let go of your body. “Three things you can hear.”
Your eyes flutter shut again to focus, and it sinks in that you truly are back on the Marauder with your squad. Familiar voices outside of the bathroom begin to trickle through your guarded attention, giving you the answers you hardly need to think about.
“Hunter, Wrecker, Crosshair,” you list, “And you.”
“That was four.”
“I know.”
“Hm,” he replies skeptically, “Two things you can smell.”
A brief chuckle slips out without hesitation. “You.”
“Is that humorous to you?” He retorts with an edge of defensiveness seeping into his tone.
“We just got back from a mission, so…”
“So, you mean to insult me.”
“No,” you lean back into his chest, “Never.”
He sighs before telling you, “You still need one more for your response to be considered complete.”
“Um…” you wrinkle your nose, “Me, I guess. I need a shower, too.”
“It’s tolerable,” he says a little haughtily.
“Lucky me,” you hum, thinking that’s the last of his interrogation.
He proves you otherwise when you hear, “One thing you can taste. If anything, at the moment.”
“I guess…” you take a moment to think, “The caf you made us this morning.”
“That was several hours ago. I highly doubt you still—“
“It’s my final answer,” you release a conclusive breath and fall silent, wishing you could stay tucked away in this little corner forever. In his arms, really. There’s a comforting solitude in this moment that will soon be disrupted by the responsibilities waiting just outside the door, with the rest of your life. You surprise him when you take his hand and drape it over your heartbeat, feeling the steadying thump together. In a way, he takes this as a sign of your gratitude. So he responds with a gentle kiss to your temple, leaving his lips pressed against your skin instead of pulling away.
You shift in his arms to face him more clearly, trapped between his long legs that don’t fit well in this small space. Still, you manage, and his eyes cast away from yours again. He looks at your joined hands, lifting them higher until his lips brush against your knuckles with the same softness as before.
“I understand,” he murmurs, “Thinking you’ve reached your limit.”
“You do?” You whisper, finding it difficult to believe someone as knowledgeable as him would ever need to doubt himself.
He nods once, meeting your eyes with a flash of hesitance. “We all do. I believe that makes you more like us than you think.”
“I don’t know. You could be wrong…about me.”
His eyebrows briefly raise at this, but his expression is neutral when he explains, “There’s nothing abnormal about your reaction today. What you’re experiencing isn’t uncommon to the rest of us, even if you’re not aware of it.”
You squeeze his hand, noticing the heavy implication in his tone. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you needed help.”
“Your apology is unnecessary. I only meant...that you’re not alone.”
“I never feel alone,” you tell him honestly, touching your forehead to his, “Not when I’m with you, at least.”
He leans into you, too, lacing your fingers together. “Then we’re in agreement.”
You smile and close your eyes after seeing that he’s done the same. Anything you might have said in response falls away from your tongue, saving itself for another time. For now, you simply breathe at his pace, finding it easier to keep up now that the eruption of your fears is a figment of the past. And if it returns as it always does, you’re sure that he’ll find you where you need him to. You're confident that he'll know exactly what to do.
