I write mostly for Star Wars and Hobbit/LotR, but someone asked me a while back about listing some of my other works. I already have lists to my Star Wars and Hobbit/LotR fics, so I just linked those here.
Link to Sideblog where I write a few other fandoms
Star Wars List
Hobbit/LotR List
BBC Sherlock:
Sherlock x Reader
Sentiment
Dignity & Disposition
Comfort
Holiday Cheer
Mycroft x Reader:
Secrets
Marvel:
TASM!Peter x Reader (Set in Spider-Man: No Way Home):
(The Hobbit) Imagine: Him Teaching you How to Fight
(Imagine: Him Teaching you How to Fight + His Reaction When you Best Him in a Match) Featuring: Thorin, Fili, Kili, Bilbo
Word Count: 1,138
Warnings: Fluff, Training
Thorin:
As the leader of the company, the responsibility of training you did not fall to Thorin. Instead, it started out with Dwalin teaching you. Your progress was slow at first, but you absorbed Dwalin’s instruction and applied it well. Thorin would watch your evening training sessions from the campfire. With so many things on his mind, it gave him a sort of calm to focus on something else. As his fondness for you grew, so would his concern, though he would not let anyone know that. He finds himself suddenly wanting to be involved, wanting to take part in preparing you for whatever threats lay ahead. So, one evening, he feigns irritation at your progress and rises to give you instruction. He hopes that his hard tone will disguise the fact that he wants to be involved as he draws his sword and begins a lesson of his own. Dwalin sees past it all, but says nothing out of respect for his leader as he steps aside and watches a little smugly.
After many lessons, you are rather confident in your ability. You’d been up against Fili and Kili in a few playful spars, and they commented on how well you’re doing. Thorin decided to put what you’ve learned to the test. He drew his sword and challenged you to a match. At this point, the entire Company had turned to watch it unfold. Thorin swung first, and you swiftly defended, knocking his blade away and retaliating. It was quite the dance between the two of you, by the light of a campfire, with your closest friends exclaiming whenever either of you locked blades.
It finally ended with you victorious. Thorin was backed against a tree with your blade aimed at his chin. Thinking he’d be angry, or at least, irritated, you quickly pulled away. But to your surprise, he only gave one of his rare smiles.
“You are ready.”
Fili:
He began by giving your pointers and instruction, and that turned into full-blown training sessions. You’d been taught only a little self-defense in your youth, and you had not put it to use yet. He found himself drawn to you and feeling quite protective. The last thing he wanted was for you to be unprepared for the next fight. The best way he could protect you was to teach you how to properly defend yourself in case you’d ever need to. He was gentle and took it easy on you early on. He couldn’t help it. It was hard for him to be strict with you, but even so, you were very motivated in your lessons. Sometimes, he would enlist one of the others to step in and give you a test spar. As your skills grew, Fili upped your training until he didn’t have to take it easy on you anymore.
The time came for Fili to test you once more. You readied yourself, and he made the first strike. You brought your blade up to meet his with a clang of metal against metal. He gave you an impressed look with his brow raised, and you had to keep from smiling before swinging your own weapon. You could tell he was still holding back, as he tended to do, so you tried to kick things up a notch by striking dangerously close to him. He got the message. The match became more heated, but you were up for the challenge.
You weren’t sure how, but it resulted in Fili’s sword being knocked from his hand, which left him standing there with yours pointed at him. His eyes were at first wide with surprise, and then his expression melted into an impressed smirk.
“Very nice.”
Kili:
He volunteered to teach you right off the bat. There was no playing it cool or feigning indifference. Kili was unashamed in his efforts to not only spend more time with you, but to help you to protect yourself should the occasion arise on the perilous journey. Though he does take the endeavor seriously, he cannot help but throw in a flirt here and there during training. He’ll say you have good form with a wink and insist on testing you periodically with a spar. But never fear, he is quite patient and seems to have mastered the ability of challenging you without pushing you beyond your limits.
After many duels and spars, the day comes when you finally best him. Some members of the Company are seated nearby, having taken an interest in your progress. After a training session, Kili challenges you to one of his tests; a hand-to-hand sparring match. You block nearly every strike, moving swiftly and with ease. He gets you in a hold, but you counter by knocking him off balance with your hip and throwing him over your shoulder. The others gasp in surprise and break out in applause while Kili stands to his feet with a grin.
“Good form.”
Bilbo
He is not much of a fighter, especially early on in the journey. In fact, he is still under the tutelage of other members of the Company himself. That doesn’t stop him from wanting to see you confident in your ability to protect yourself. It would be mutually beneficial, he decides, for the two of you to train together. You could help him, and he could help you. He takes on less of an instructing role, and more of a supportive role as a fellow learner. Bilbo is patient, focused, and a most honorable opponent. He’s almost a bit too polite, some of your fellow Company members argue. Too much of a gentleman. They argue that you won’t grow and improve if he’s holding back on account of you not being ready yet or not wanting to counter in case you weren’t prepared for it. More often, you will need another to spar with. But when it comes to simple training exercises where he can be used as a training dummy for you to learn new moves, he is very willing.
It does not come as a surprise when you best him the first few times in a sword duel. Bilbo is most certainly holding back. He’s too timid to counter. But then one day he finally is convinced by the others that he’ll be of more help to you if he doesn’t hold back: you will reach your full potential when faced with a challenge. That day, you are taken by surprise when he has a bit more fire to him during a session. Even so, you don’t recoil. You respond with similar determination, and the session ends with you victoriously having disarmed him and with a blade pointed toward him. The others gasp and clap, entertained by the duel and impressed to see how much the two of you improved.
Every now and then when life gets hard, I play "September" by Earth, Wind, and Fire, very loudly, and suddenly I'm partying with a bunch of exhibits at the end of Night at the Museum.
The lengths you'll go to in order to spend an extra few minutes with this man.
Word Count: 1,308
Warnings: Fluff
Truth be told, the instant caf that the Resistance supplied to its members left much to be desired. Each sip flooded your tastebuds with bitterness- the first time you gave it a try, you actually choked. Even catching a whiff of the dark liquid in passing made your stomach turn; which was unfortunate because the rest of the Resistance seemed to live on the stuff. Everywhere you turned, someone was taking a (much-deserved) break with a steaming cup wafting that horrid scent into the air.
But this morning, like every other one, you hurried down the hallway as fast as you could without risking a collision with a fellow comrade. It was quite early, so the usual hustle and bustle of the day hadn’t quite kicked off yet.
Just one thing was on your mind. Believe it or not, it was caf. You couldn’t get your hands on a cup of that disgusting beverage fast enough.
The cafeteria was hardly occupied. A few filtered in and out, and the line for the caf machine was fortunately a short one. Even so, those who were in line happened to be tiredly moseying along, having not been properly awakened. On a normal day, you’d find entertainment in watching them come to life after their initial sip; eyes suddenly alert and lips parting to speak their first words of the day. But you were anxious to be on your way. You were running late this time.
Finally. Your turn at last.
You grabbed a cup and held your breath as you dispensed liquid death from the machine. Additives wouldn’t truly make any difference, but you still threw in a little extra something to try and dilute the flavor.
And then it was back to hurrying down the halls, this time trying to keep the cup from spilling too much. It was imperative that some remained when you reached your destination.
The last set of sliding doors hissed open, and a cool breeze blew the delightful scents of greenery and ground damp from a recent rainfall. The air was humid, temperature rising as the sun began its climb. You took a brief moment to simply enjoy the pale blue morning sky and bird calls in the very forest that concealed the Resistance. The halls inside the base were relatively quiet, but outside, things were already picking up. Vessels lifted off for patrol, and dozens of individuals marched with purpose in different directions.
Then, your gaze landed on a familiar head of curly dark hair in a standard issue bright orange flightsuit.
There he was, his masculine form leaning against an exterior wall casually, caf cup in hand as he gazed out at the jungle beyond. Dewey leaves glistened in the morning light. Your heart began to melt as you observed him from a distance just like you had so many times before.
Poe Dameron was the bravest person you knew. Selfless. Bold when the situation called for it. Kind. His laughter, though rare, was absolutely contagious. And when you were paired with him on a mission, his ingenuity was mind-blowing. So was that boyish smile that crossed his features when something went right.
It wouldn’t exactly be a lie to say that you’d fallen head over heels for the man. Not that you’d come out and tell him anytime soon.
You remained still for a few more moments before venturing forward, giving the appearance of nonchalance as you took residence on the opposite side of the dirt path leading out from the base doors. Your footsteps seemed to make just enough noise because Poe turned his head to look your way. His dark eyes were already alert, observant, but his demeanor was still laid-back and relaxed, hair still disheveled from sleep.
“Mornin,’” he said, lifting his cup as a gesture of greeting with one of those smiles that made your heart melt all over again.
“Good morning,” you replied. That queasy feeling was beginning to settle in after the first revolting waft hit your nose. It was quite the endeavor to position yourself so that the caf in your hand was as far away from you as possible without arousing suspicion.
“There’s nothing quite like a cup of caf,” Poe said, tilting his head back to take a gulp of his.
You nodded. “Can’t think of starting the day without it.”
Because then I wouldn’t have an inconspicuous excuse to come see you.
Poe shifted his stance, coming away from the wall to join you on your side of the dirt path. “This has got to be my favorite part of the day,” he confessed with a sigh. “I love the action, don’t get me wrong. But fifteen minutes of peace, with you…” His eyes traveled back to meet yours. “It’s what I need.”
You held his gaze for a moment before turning, forgetting yourself for a moment and idly taking a swig of the beverage in your hand. What started as a sputter turned into a violent coughing fit, and you were mortified to feel Poe’s hand patting your back.
“You okay?” he asked. “Went down the wrong pipe, eh?”
“Yeah.” No, this stuff is just disgusting. “Sorry.”
He chuckled. “You really can’t stand the stuff.”
You froze. “W-what?”
Poe hadn’t removed his hand from your back even as you straightened. “I see you with a cup of it every morning, but hardly ever drinking it. And when you do, you make a face.”
“I do not,” you countered, taking another sip. The flavor was despicable. You smacked your lips. “See?”
There was no mistaking that pointed smirk on his face. “You just did it again.” Before you could withdraw, Poe shook his head and amusingly brushed his finger under your chin to tilt it upward to meet the glint in his eye. “How about we meet here every morning, like we’ve been doing all along? But you ditch the caf.”
Your face heated up like it was beneath the blazing suns of Tatooine, but you nodded. “Alright.”
A comfortable silence fell between you two as you both turned to observe the view again. Your mind roved over the interaction, occasionally stealing a glance at him while he finished his cup.
He wanted to keep spending time with you every morning?
What did that mean? Did it have to mean anything?
Poe Dameron cleared his throat and rolled his shoulders in a light stretch. He exhaled in a huff and turned to head back inside, giving you a playful nudge as he passed by you. “I’ll see you later.”
That next morning, you arrived at the spot a little extra early. Poe greeted you shortly after with a cup of caf in one hand, and a cup of another beverage entirely in his other. He offered it to you, and you accepted it with a grateful smile. A gasp escaped you when you looked inside.
It was your favorite comforting drink.
“I didn’t even know we had this!” You couldn’t hide the amazement in your voice.
“I might’ve put in a special request a few weeks ago for us to keep a stock of it,” Poe explained. “You work hard. You deserve it.”
Your eyes travelled back up to his. “Thank you, Poe.”
So began the tradition of him meeting you outside base (as long as the Resistance was set up in an environment that allowed you to do so) and bringing you a cup of your favorite cozy drink that didn’t taste like hot juice from a trash compactor. The two of you would stand there, talking, laughing, and enjoying that slice of peace and comradery each day.
Things took a turn when you two became an item, and then you got a taste of that caf each time he kissed you.
Today marks 5 years since we officially met the Bad Batch in The Clone Wars!
It also marks 1 year since the premiere of The Bad Batch season 3.
It’s hard to believe we’ve had the Batch for half a decade now, but I’m so grateful, because they’ve since become some of my favorite Star Wars characters ever!
Summary: After the Battle of Kamino, Rex finds you surrounded by clone cadets.
Length: 1.4k
Warnings: Post-Battle; Lots of Teasing; Rex's Flirting is Improving
The battle of Kamino had yielded heavy and unfortunate losses, but the Republic managed to repel the Separatists in the end. Rex, after promoting Echo and Fives to ARC Troopers, sought out the generals. He walked over to where Jesse and Hardcase were relaxing, assuming they would have an idea.
“Has anyone seen the generals?” Rex asked, resting his bucket against his hip.
“General Skywalker’s at the south end of the city, but I have a feeling that you’re not asking about him,” Jesse quipped, causing Rex to narrow his eyes. “She’s with Kix in the infirmary.”
“You know how she always turns into a mother hen after battle,” Hardcase reminded his captain, leaning back against the wall. He elbowed Jesse with a mischievous grin. “She’s probably giving shinies heart attacks.”
“Well, if she can make our esteemed captain blush, what hope do the shinies have, Hardcase?”
Rex, tuning out the rest of their conversation, turned and made his way to the infirmary. Due to the overflow from battle, it had expanded into the mess hall. But Rex assumed that a Jedi would be easy to spot among the clones and Kaminoans. But when he didn’t spot you, Rex made his way over to Kix, who was setting another trooper’s ankle.
“Kix, have you seen the general?”
“She’s in the other room,” Kix stated, pointing to his right. “You won’t be able to miss her.”
Rex raised an eyebrow, but continued on his way. Stepping into one of the wings of the infirmary, Rex paused when he spotted exactly what Kix was talking about. You sat at the end of the room, smiling and talking with all of the young clone cadets gathered around you.
“And then the bridge started to collapse,” you retold dramatically as you carefully bandaged up a cadet’s wrist. “The Separatists planted detonators along the bridge and lured us onto it. And the tactical droid tried to blow us all up.”
“How did you escape?” one of the cadets asked, sitting on the edge of his seat.
“Well, we started running. Anakin and I pushed your brothers to safety with the Force because all of you and all of your brothers in every corner of this galaxy are important to us.”
You gently poked one of the cadets on the tip of his nose to emphasize your point. He blushed bright red, reminding you of another clone, and looked down at his feet bashfully while one of his brothers grabbed his shoulders from behind.
“And no good leader and certainly no good Jedi would say otherwise,” you added, looking out around at the clone cadets.
Rex was quite sure that the meaning behind your story was not part of the approved Kaminoan curriculum, but he couldn’t help but smile at his younger brothers’ reactions to your story. You smiled and finished up with bandaging a cadet’s wrist before continuing with the story.
“But then we had to run to safety ourselves. Now, Anakin was lucky enough that he was standing close to the edge. So, he escaped easily. But I wasn’t so lucky because a lingering detonator went off right behind me, causing me to lose my balance.”
“What happened next?” a cadet gasped.
“Shhh!” one of the other cadets shushed his brother.
“I’m getting to it,” you promised them with a chuckle. “As I was saying, your brother, Captain Rex, grabbed a long gun—right out of Mule’s hands, mind you—and shot a cable at me.”
“Did he hit you?” one of the cadets asked quickly.
“Do you think I’d miss, Cadet?” Rex called out teasingly.
“Captain Rex!” the cadets called turning around to see him walking towards them.
They all jumped to their feet and stood at attention. Rex stopped in front of the crowd of his young brothers and dismissed them, urging them to sit down again. He turned to you as the cadets got settled again. And even though Rex felt a familiar heat start to climb up his neck, he moved to take a seat on one of the beds. Clearing his throat as you offered him a soft smile, he nodded.
“You were saying, General.”
“Right, Captain,” you mused before turning back to his brothers. “No, Captain Rex didn’t hit me with the cable. It landed in front of me and I held onto it as the bridge tumbled down. And with some help from some of your other brothers, he pulled me up to safety.”
“Captain Rex saved your life?”
“Yes, he did,” you stated without hesitation.
“To be fair, you’ve saved mine a number of times, General,” Rex spoke up, causing you to smile.
“Yes, shall I tell all of you one of those stories next?”
The cadets cheered but Rex got back to his feet and motioned towards the door. You nodded and slowly stood up, causing the cadets to sigh and whine. Giving them a kind smile, you kneeled down so that you were eye level with all of them again.
“I must go back to being a general. But you should try and find General Kenobi, for he’s an even better story teller than me. But which battalion is the best in the GAR again?”
“The 501st!”
“And don’t you forget it,” Rex added, causing his younger brothers to grin.
Bidding the cadets goodbye, you stood up and walked with Rex out of the infirmary. The two of you moved in silence for a moment before Rex turned to you with a soft look.
“You survived the battle alright, General?”
“I should be asking you that question, Rex. This is your home. All of your homes.” You sighed and added quietly, “I’m sorry we didn’t defend it better.”
“Kamino was always a target to the Seppies,” Rex stated, turning to look forward again. “But thank you, General.” Clearing his throat a bit, Rex turned forward once again. “And thank you for looking after the cadets. They were bred for war, but they were never trained for it to happen in their own home.”
“Of course,” you returned, nodding politely. “I have a soft spot for children. I believe my master’s habits rubbed off on me.”
“It’s not a bad habit to have.”
“Well, and clone cadets are adorable. In a way, the clones and the Jedi have a lot in common. We were raised communally as well. It’s a setup most citizens find unnatural, almost.”
“Well, your people can move things with their minds. My brothers and I all share the same face. They might not be far off,” Rex quipped, causing you to chuckle.
Stepping into the lift together, you stood side by side as you made your way back to the upper floors of the facility. No doubt that Shaak Ti and Obi-Wan were looking for the two of you. Placing your hands on your hips and turned to Rex with a mischievous smile.
“What were you like as a cadet, Rex?”
“Top of my class, of course.”
“Of course,” you agreed teasingly, causing Rex to tilt his chin up. “But don’t tell me that you were always this stoic and brooding.”
“Brooding?” Rex repeated, earning a laugh in return.
“Come on, Rex. You must have broken a few rules in your time on Kamino.”
“I would assume as many as you did when you were a padawan, General.”
“My master was on the Jedi High Council, so I had an image to uphold.” After a moment, you added with a grin, “But also more time unsupervised. And, well, Anakin was a poor influence on me.” Your smile softened as you turned back to Rex. “Perhaps I’ll tell you some of those stories one day, Captain.”
“I look forward to it, General.”
Stepping off the elevator together, you and Rex shared a smile before Commander Cody called out to the two of you. Rex winced when he spotted Cody’s knowing look and you pulled on a more professional expression in the presence of the marshal commander.
“General Kenobi requested your assistance with moving some of the larger pieces of debris,” Cody told you. “He’s in the eastern part of the city.”
“Thank you, Commander Cody, I will go meet him.” Nodding to Cody, you turned to Rex, who returned your burning gaze. “I’ll see you later, Captain.”
And with that, you walked down the hall and away from them. You couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder at Rex. Staring after you until your figure disappeared around the corner, Rex ignored Cody’s stare and smirk. Rolling his eyes, Rex brushed past his brother.
“I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?” Cody called after him, causing Rex to wince.
Hi I just wanted to say i love ur bad batch reader insert posts!!! Do you think you could do one of how they respond to the reader's body image issues? Thanks so much for your service 😭
Author's Note: I'm sorry this took as long as it did!! I hope you enjoy this!
Hunter: Will pick up on certain things. He gets a feel for what's bothering you when you don't respond to his compliments. It's only at particular times, and he'll finally decide to tentatively ask what's going on. He'll listen to whatever it is that you're insecure about patiently, but is right there with reassurance. He knows that words can only go so far, but now that he's aware, he can be more intentional about it. He's nurturing and supportive without coddling.
Wrecker: Is in absolute disbelief when you tell him about your insecurities. He's rather comfortable with himself and loves who he is despite things that others have taunted him for, and he adores you. He chuckles warmly after your confession and assures you that you're absolutely beautiful. He doesn't want to undermine your feelings in any way, but hearing his chuckle, knowing that something that seemed so major to you wasn't that big of a deal to him helped.
Tech: Can't quite understand at first. You are loved by the Bad Batch, and you have his love, so why were you struggling with it? He comes to understand when you explain, and his no-nonsense way of responding ends up being quite sweet and romantic. Tech is not one to fudge facts or skirt around the truth, so his compliments and assurances are genuine and straight from the heart.
Echo: If anyone could grasp body image issues, it's him. In front of others, he took his own changes in stride... but every now and then, he'd let you in on the truth that deep down it is still a struggle. What he can't grasp is why you feel the way you do when you are so absolutely gorgeous and make him feel like the luckiest guy in the galaxy. He lets you know on the daily just in case you weren't sure.
Crosshair: He listens in silence as you tell him your insecurity. When you've told him, he pauses for a few seconds and utters, "you done?" He'll tell you straightaway what he thinks, that you are beautiful and how you make him feel like he has to protect you. He's not one for words, but he continues to let you know in his own way how important you are to him with gestures of affection.
Author's Note: Hello! Here's a snippet of something cozy and cheery I wrote a few years ago and never got around to posting. You can decide who it is at the end that requests you sit beside them!
Additionally, I just wanted to say I wish everyone a Merry Christmas! For me, it's a time to be grateful for loved ones and of course, most of all, the real reason for the season!
Word Count: 708
Warnings: None
Description: You join the Company for a celebratory holiday feast!
Erebor had truly been a sight to behold when you first arrived. The halls were numerous and so vast. Everywhere you looked, there were displays of the dwarves’ handiwork and ingenuity. It was beautiful. You understood why the Company had gone to such great lengths to win it back from Smaug the Terrible.
Once the mountain was reclaimed, it became a home to the dwarves once more. You’d only heard stories about Erebor in the olden days when the halls were filled with bustling trade and friendly chatter. Night after night, your comrades told you of its wonders, but you’d never witnessed it for yourself.
You imagined that it was much like it is now, with the Company settled there and their relatives flooding in- so utterly warm and welcoming.
Especially this time of year. You walked down the dimly-lit hallway, the lovely scent of evergreen trees filling your nostrils as you passed lanterns that were decorated with the branches. The harsh winter weather had ushered in a season of cheer, and the entire kingdom was celebrating. Everywhere you went, there were woven banners of red and green, holly leaves adorning every dwarrowdam’s hair, and warm spiced beverages passed around. Feasts were always merry occasions, but more recently, they had become even more grand with special meats and desserts.
It was spectacular, and you felt so fortunate to have been invited to stay and enjoy it. You traveled with the Company at the request of Gandalf and became very close with the group, and when Erebor was reclaimed, you were offered a place there. Thorin stepped into his role as the rightful ruler, and Fili and Kili respectively as princes.
As pleased as you were to remain with the Company, there was one in particular that you were glad to be near. He had become the object of your affection over the course of the journey, and your feelings continued to grow as more time passed. The cheerful, cozy season made you wish you could have him as your own, with all the happy couples that you passed every day and dined with. The longing to have someone to kiss and huddle close to for warmth in the cold weather grew stronger each day
As you approached the dining hall, the chatter that had echoed down the passageway grew louder. Booming laughter, the clink of goblets, and jingle bells filled your ears.
You paused just before the doorway to smooth out your red and green gown and check your hair in the nearby reflective gold ornament. You couldn’t help but think of how beautiful you looked, and you hoped that he would think so too. With a deep breath, you stepped into the doorway. The hall was filled with long tables, but there was one table in particular you headed straight for.
It was the Company’s table, complete with specially-adorned seats for those who had made the hard journey to reclaim Erebor. Thorin sat at the head with Fili and Kili’s chairs on either side.
“There she is!” Bofur announced with a grand gesture and a wide grin. “Why, lass, we were just talking about you! Wonderin’ when you’d be joining us!”
“Here I am,” you laughed. Dwarves weren’t sticklers for punctuality, so no one took offense to your slightly late arrival. You were met with many smiles and boisterous greetings as you neared the table.
“Why, don’t you look lovely?” Balin complimented. He smiled kindly from his seat beside Fili. Dwalin was on his other side, chewing a large bite of roasted meat. “Absolutely lovely, my dear.”
“Thank you, Balin,” you said. “As always, it’s a pleasure to see you all. How is dinner?”
“Dinner is delicious,” Dwalin piped up after a loud swallow. “But don’t take my word for it, see for y’self.”
You smiled. “I definitely will. Everything looks fantastic.” You turned and headed toward the other end of the table where there was an empty chair. Before you had even taken two steps, Balin’s voice rose up.
“Wait, dear. There’s a seat for you up here. A certain someone has requested it.”
Heart thumping wildly in your chest, you halted and glanced over your shoulder to see who it was that made the request.
Author's Note: I struggle publishing Sherlock fics because as a Christian I personally disagree with his statements about God on the show and find it insulting actually. However, I otherwise enjoy the show and enjoy writing fics with his character.
Just a little blurb about the holidays with the Baker Street boys! Enjoy!
Word Count: 954
You slowly lifted the mug of hot chocolate, pausing to inhale the rich, sweet scent of the beverage and feel the liquid’s warmth waft against your skin. With a smile, your lips skated over the dollop of whipped cream as you tilted the mug to take a sip.
Mrs. Hudson was known for keeping the flow of cuppas constant at 221b Baker Street, but since the Christmas season had begun, she came walking up the steps with a tray of hot cocoa and an assortment of cookies instead.
The flat was all decorated for the holiday with strings of soft, glowing lights hanging on the wall and wrapped around garlands. Holiday knickknacks decorated the area. A few Christmas cards had arrived as well, so you and John took turns arranging them nicely on the fireplace mantle as you received them in the mail.
At the moment, you were seated comfortably in one of the living room chairs, eyeing the decorations and occasionally gazing wistfully out the window at the heavy snowfall that covered London streets in a blanket of white. A lovely Christmas tune on the violin drifted through the flat as Sherlock practiced. Despite it being an afternoon in, he was fully dressed in a dark blue suit. John was at the table, typing away on his laptop about a recent case. It was evident that he was trying to record many details because the click-clack of the keys was rapid and constant.
Occasionally, he paused to check the notes he had previously jotted down.
You turned your attention back to the fire crackling in the fireplace.
What a scene, you mused to yourself.
You took another sip of the hot chocolate and savored the rich flavor.
John glanced up from his laptop at you. “That looks good.”
“It is. Mrs. Hudson really knows what she’s doing.” You proceeded to pour him a cup, dropping a dollop of whipped cream in with a spoon. John set his laptop aside and rubbed his hands together in anticipation before you handed the mug over to him.
“Mm.” He took a sip and nodded in approval.
Sherlock had paused his playing, setting the instrument down to instead gaze out the window in silent observation. You wondered what was going through that mind of his. It wasn’t always a mystery. Sometimes he uttered his musings aloud for anyone nearby to hear his train of thought. Other times, when he was in the deepest of thoughts, he fell silent.
You always wondered what thoughts could prompt that. The great Sherlock Holmes loved to hear himself talk. It gave him some sort of satisfaction to sprinkle in his genius observations into everyday conversation. More than that, he enjoyed a long spiel to summarize his logic and make a final statement about his conclusion of the solving of a mystery just to observe the shocked and impressed faces of those around him. You and John both discovered that after working cases with him for as long as you had.
“I was thinking,” John spoke up, setting his mug down on the tray.
Sherlock’s voice sounded as a deep rumble from across the room. “That’s dangerous.”
John, now used to his roommate’s antics, continued on, ignoring him. “I was thinking about taking a stroll tonight to see the Christmas lights. Would you like to come?”
Excitement welled up inside you at the prospect. London famously had spectacular lights around the holidays. Whole streets were lit for passers by to see, and they made for lovely walks.
“That sounds like fun,” you replied enthusiastically. John smiled, and both of you turned to the consulting detective. “What do you think, Sherlock? Want to come?”
“I have other matters to attend to,” he said over his shoulder.
“Oh, well, okay then.” You shrugged, hoping to disguise your disappointment. “John and I will go.”
“I said I have other matters to attend to. I did not say I wasn’t going.”
John’s brows furrowed in a look of confusion. “Okay…?”
Sherlock proceeded to take up his violin again and play another holiday tune. You stifled a chuckle in frustrated amusement of your friend. John exchanged glances with you and shrugged.
. . . . . . . . . . . .
“Oh, how beautiful!” You exclaimed in awe.
The street was very festively lit with strands of lights hung overhead. You and John were enchanted by the sights while Sherlock walked beside you with his hands stuffed in his coat pockets. His expression was guarded, though you caught him glancing around. The great Sherlock Holmes was not impervious to holiday cheer, even if he tried to act like it.
John stopped to look at one fixture in particular, and you turned to Sherlock, who was already inches away.
“What do you think?” you asked, trying to look unphased by the close proximity. It was difficult enough with any other person, but especially with the detective. You were very aware of how he could pick up on the smallest details. He probably already saw your pupils dilate, or noticed some other telling sign of your affection for him.
He tilted his head so that he was face-to-face with you, eyes flickering down to meet your gaze. His eyes were like ice, but with the twinkling lights shining in them, they didn’t look quite so cold as they regarded you. “It’s not so bad,” his voice rumbled lowly.
You were frozen in place, lips parted to speak, but with no words coming out. Neither of you moved for what felt like ages until John spoke up somewhere ahead. Sherlock took a step back to create a little distance, though he paused so that you could walk beside him before the two of you continued your stroll down the lane.
hi! I don't know if you take requests, but if you do may I request a Tech x f!Jedi reader where they sort of acknowledged their feelings for one another during the era of the clone wars, but never really acted upon them. then after order 66 happens, they somehow reunite and ofc Tech is super happy to see her again, then on pabu his brother have to convince him to act and kiss her since neither of them know when or if they will see one another again, and he does?
thanks!
(Bad Batch) Tech x Reader: Ghost
Author's Note: Consider this a late Tech Tuesday! Enjoy!
Word Count: 3,108
Warnings: Fluff, some angst, kiss
"You look like you've seen a ghost."
Tech tilted his head to steal a sideways glance at Hunter through his goggles, brows furrowing over his narrowed eyes as his mind considered a million and one possibilities.
"One might say I have," he answered cryptically, not wasting any more time before pursuing the figure.
It was evident that Hunter was puzzled by the reply, but he knew better than to ignore that look in his squadmate's eyes. He reached out with his senses in hopes of noticing anything in particular.
But even he has difficulty finding something in a bustling square when he hasn't the slightest clue of what that something is.
Tech was determined to track down his target. It was only a fleeting glimpse... But he was sure he'd seen it. His brown eyes scanned the crowd of faces as he shouldered his way through in the most polite way he could in such a hurry. A chorus of, "excuse me"s and "pardon"s left his lips. He even had to utter a full apology after stepping on a bystander's foot.
Then, he saw it again.
This time, he wouldn't lose sight of it. His eyes remained locked on it- on her.
It was her, he realized.
She had joined a small crowd in the main square to observe the festival performers.
She wore dark clothes- very different from her robes.
But of course, Tech thought. She was in hiding. Obviously, she would have to protect her identity after Order 66 occurred.
Tech looked over his shoulder to see Hunter with widened eyes. He'd finally seen you too. They both locked gazes and nodded, mutually deciding to approach with caution.
For once in his life, Tech wasn't entirely sure how to proceed. The last thing he wanted was to startle you. After all, it wouldn't be unheard of for your instincts to kick in, especially towards clones.
By the time he reached you, he was even less sure.
Hunter took the liberty of greeting you simply and in a light-hearted way in hopes that you'd be put at ease.
"Fancy meeting you here," he rumbled.
Tech's eyes flickered back to you, watching as you turned around. The way your face lit up at the realization of who it was warmed Tech's heart. Your smile grew wide, and your eyes began to glisten with tears that welled up.
He waited, even as you threw your arms around Hunter in a gleeful embrace, to see if any fear or uneasiness registered in your expression. Your body language toward the squad leader showed no indication of anything other than relief and familiarity.
You pulled back from Hunter, sharing a meaningful look with your friend, before turning to Tech.
"Oh, Tech." you practically launched yourself into his arms, and he took a second to process the action before tightening the embrace. "Do you know how much I've missed you?" you whispered into his neck.
His heart fluttered at the feeling of your lips against his skin as you uttered the most sorrowed question in a barely-audible voice.
She's here, his inner voice kept saying. She's here. She's here in my arms. Nothing is going to harm her. I will never allow it.
Tech squeezed tighter, swearing to himself that he'd never let you go again. It was duty that had separated you during the Clone Wars. But now that the Republic had fallen, this duty no longer existed.
The embrace was long, but not nearly long enough. You pulled away, wiping the wetness from your cheeks with a sleeve, sniffling.
"I knew it," you said shakily, your voice breaking off into a laugh. "I sensed you when I landed. After the Order, part of me hoped beyond hope... But I wasn't sure I'd find you either way."
"Small Galaxy, I s'pose," Hunter joked. "Still, how'd you know we weren't going to..."
"Blast me to smithereens?" you finished with a grimace. "Well, this planet doesn't seem to be occupied by the Empire. I figured if you were here, you weren't likely to be under the influence of chips."
"Still," Tech spoke up again, meeting your gaze. "We could have in theory been doing recon work for the Empire. Hunting undercover. "
"I guess that was a chance I was willing to take," you said, your own gaze unwavering as it bore into his soul. A flood gate of memories opened up as he looked own into your eyes.
Suddenly, he saw you on the battlefield, standing right at his side with your lightsaber in hand, deflecting blasts. He saw you in the cockpit of the Marauder, your features shadowed beautifully by the light of stars streaking past in hyperspace. He saw you seated on a crate, the sleeve of your robe rolled up to reveal a wound that he tended to with a bacta patch. He felt you press against him as the two of you made your way through a dark cave back-to-back.
He saw your downcast expression as you waved the squad farewell after being transferred to another system to aid a fellow Jedi in the War effort.
"Hey! Look who it is!" The booming voice of Wrecker sounded over the commotion of the festival. You looked over to see him approaching with a small girl on his shoulders, and Crosshair in tow. Another soldier was following not too far behind.
"Wrecker! Crosshair!" you greeted. "Am I glad to see you!"
Wrecker set the girl down to hug you properly, and Crosshair begrudgingly accepted an embrace from you. The girl was watching you curiously. The other soldier also seemed intrigued by your familiarity with the squad.
Finally, Hunter continued with introductions. "Omega, meet ______, an ally and good friend of the squad."
He didn't dare use the word "jedi" in a crowd, not even in a place as safe as Pabu.
You hadn't expected to see her face light up in realization, as if she knew all about you.
"And this is Omega," Hunter continued. "It's...a long story. In short, she's-"
"Our sister!" Wrecker finished.
You couldn't help the awed smile as you greeted her properly. "Wow, it's wonderful to meet you, Omega."
She was beaming up at you as she stepped forward to shake your hand. "You too. I've heard a lot about you."
"Oh yeah?" you shot Wrecker a humorously suspicious look. "All good things, I hope."
"Mostly," he guffawed.
"This here is Echo," Hunter said, motioning to the other soldier. He seemed to know who you were already because he saluted with his scomp arm. Touched by the gesture, you saluted back. "He joined the squad shortly before the War ended."
"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Ma'am," he said.
"Likewise," you replied.
Tech had been unusually silent the entire time, and you found yourself glancing his way, hoping to get a read on what might be going on inside that mind of his. His gaze was already locked on you, and his lips were pursed, a sign that he did have loads to say. The sight nearly made you laugh.
Same ol' Tech.
The group naturally made its way out of the crowd, heading for the beach so that you could all talk openly and get caught up. Each of the squad took turns recounting in their own words some of the adventures that took place after Order 66. They were beyond curious to know the events that transpired in your escape and evasion of the Empire in the following months.
For the first time in a long time, you felt like you were home.
. . . . . . . . . . .
"You can't stay, can you?"
The question wasn't wholly unexpected. Hunter's heightened senses allowed him to see more than what was around him. Sometimes he saw into you just a little too well.
You let out a sigh, looking out over the perfect view of the island from your spot on the porch. It was almost painful to confirm Hunter's suspicion when you were gazing at blue water shining in the sun, waiting for the rest of the squad to return to the neighborhood after their work was done for the day.
After over a month on Pabu, you couldn't imagine being anywhere else.
But the fact of the matter was, there was some unfinished business to take care of.
"I need to go away for a while," you admitted.
"Are you sure?" Hunter asked, brows raised. "You're safe here."
"I know." You closed your eyes, breathing the salty air into your lungs peacefully. "But there are others who aren't. I can sense it. They're lost and confused, and...afraid. They need me."
He nodded gravely. As always, he respected your judgment. He honored your sense of duty to others, despite his concern. If there was anyone who understood, it was him.
"I'll be back," you told him. "In a little while. I will return to you all."
"We'll be waiting."
. . . . . . . . . . .
Breaking the news to the others wasn't something you'd ever want to do again. Omega and Wrecker were downcast. Crosshair voiced his disapproval in his own way, flicking a toothpick onto the ground. Echo wasn't happy to see you go, but he seemed to understand. Duty to his brothers would soon to call him away also as it had before, or so he'd told you.
What you hadn't expected was Tech to fall silent. His expression didn't exactly betray frustration or displeasure, but you'd always known him to express emotion differently. After all, as you'd come to find out from the others, your departure from the squad during the Clone Wars had affected him more than he'd let on to you.
Just when you thought that maybe Tech's feelings didn't go as far as you once thought, he broke the silence.
"Leaving the safe haven of Pabu is most unwise."
The entire squad froze at Tech's version of an outburst. It wasn't a shout. It was controlled, but each word was laced with a tinge of bitterness- something you'd rarely ever heard.
At that, suddenly the others felt the need to excuse themselves, for one reason or another. Wrecker out of the blue remembered that he and Omega needed to go see Shep about...something. Echo was adamant about joining them. Hunter excused himself to finish a household chore. And Crosshair just up and walked away without a word.
When just you and Tech remained, you responded to his statement calmly.
"I know, it's a risk. But it's one I have to take. I'd hoped you would understand."
"Forgive me," he said curtly, turning his face away, putting his chiseled profile in full view. "I do understand."
Your heart broke at the sight. "Tech..."
He faced you again, an unreadable expression crossing his features. "I understand perfectly."
Before you could say anything more, he walked away.
. . . . . . . . . . .
Tech paused tinkered adamantly with the device in his hands.
He felt like an adolescent. Like some young cadet.
When Crosshair had gone his own way, seemingly lost to the squad, Tech found a way to rationalize it. When Echo departed from the squad for a time, Tech processed the shift in his own way.
Adapting was the name of the game. Tech always felt that finding a way to adapt to changing scenarios would mean a higher probability of survival for himself and the squad as a whole. Rather than wasting time trying to change things according to his own wishes, or longing for things to be different, he found the rate of success would increase immensely if he simply, "rolled with the punches."
So, why did he act contrary to that belief just now? Why didn't he simply shake your hand without so much as a nod and let you continue on your way?
Perhaps it was the environment. The peaceful planet of Pabu, where the squad lived out its days safe and sound- having long since abandoned the life of soldiers and mercenaries- brought about a softer, gentler existence. Survival was no longer something that the squad struggled with.
The lack of a need to adapt perhaps left room for Tech's true emotions to shine through- a luxury previously unheard of in his mind.
"Let me guess," Crosshair's coiled voice interrupted his train of thought. "You didn't tell her how you feel...again."
Ah, fantastic. This was just what Tech needed at the moment. A dose of his brother's difficult and unyielding character.
He adjusted his goggles, resuming his tinkering as if he was unbothered. "I fail to see how that is relevant."
"You know, if you tell her, she might stay."
Tech paused. "I do not see why she would. She had made it quite clear that her mind is made up."
"Is it now?" Crosshair leaned against the doorway of Tech's quarters, crossing his arms. "And how do you know she won't change it?"
Tech didn't reply. Perhaps his brother would give up and leave.
"She deserves to know."
...But of course not.
"What makes you say that?" Tech looked up.
"Because it's the sort of thing people do." Crosshair placed a toothpick between his teeth. "When they care about someone, they tell them. They never know when they'll get the chance to...or if."
That one sent Tech's mind reeling.
Regret. As much as he tried to distance himself from it, as it was another hindrance to adapting to the situation at hand...he knew it would be something that he'd be faced with if he left things the way he had...
But telling you how he felt? Tech wondered how he could even begin to do so. He was eloquent in matters of machinery. Science. Technology. Those were languages he spoke fluently.
Telling you that he cared for you?
Loved you?
That was a foreign concept entirely.
. . . . . . . . . . .
The time of your departure had come all too soon. The squad was gathered around your ship on a rainy afternoon to see you off.
You'd be back soon, you kept reiterating to each of them. Tech watched as you hugged Hunter, and the leader wished you well. Wrecker picked you up and spun you around. Omega, who'd come to admire you so, wrapped her arms around you in a heartfelt hug. Crosshair once more allowed an embrace, bringing his hand up to awkwardly pat your back. Echo, in his fashion, saluted you before you laughed and embraced him also.
Tell her how you feel. Tell her how you feel. Tech kept telling himself that over and over again. It didn't seem to make his next move any easier. Even with the hours and hours of thought he put into it, the task of telling you that he cared for you still seemed monumental. Impossible even.
But his brother's words rang true.
He had to let you know. Somehow.
You were standing in front of him, concern etched on your face. It was evident that his last interaction with you left you unsure as to what his behavior would be. Tech hated that he'd caused that uncertainty.
He opened his mouth, but for once in his entire existence, nothing came out. There was no spew of information. No explanation rolling effortlessly off his lips. Not even a peep.
You were waiting patiently for him to get his bearings- though your uneasiness seemed to increase.
His brain shorted out, and then suddenly everything became crystal clear. If he couldn't begin to tell you how he felt, perhaps it would be best if he didn't tell you.
Tech's resolve cemented, and he closed the distance between you with a single step. Your eyes widened as he stepped into your space, and your hand came up to rest on his chest. When it registered that there was no force behind it, that you were not trying to push him away, Tech placed a hand on each of your shoulders and leaned in.
Your expression melted before his very eyes. With no further thought to your surroundings, you leaned in the rest of the way.
Your thoughts were racing as Tech's lips pressed warmly against your own.
The determined look in his eyes had made your heart flutter. The way he'd so decidedly stepped into your space, how his hands held you in such a way that you doubted anything could move you from that spot... It was captivating.
You recalled the time when thoughts of kissing Tech were the sort of thing that used to keep you up at night.
During the War, your familial affection for the squad would have been questionable in the eyes of the Council, if they'd known. But your attachment to Tech in particular would have been considered dangerous. Absolutely forbidden.
But love is a force of its own.
You were certain of that more than ever, with Tech tilting his head to deepen the kiss, his arms sliding around your form to hold you tighter as the rain pelted you both from above.
What began as a fervid gesture rendered something softer, sweeter in the end. His lips brushed yours tenderly one last time, feather-light, as if savoring the moment, before pulling away.
You tugged him back before he got too far, holding him in an embrace as you buried your face in his chest.
"Stay."
There was no edge to his tone with the request. It broke your heart all the same to hear it.
"I can't," you whispered.
"Perhaps I can accompany you, then." There was a waver in his exhale from the chill of the rain.
"There's no need. Besides, I'll be back faster than you can say, 'Marauder.'"
"I highly doubt that you will return that quickly."
You chuckled, reaching up to wipe some of the drops from his goggles. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"This. I needed it."
The two of you parted, and Wrecker whistled jokingly. Crosshair gave Tech a nod of approval, and Echo was shaking his head in amusement. Hunter merely looked at you with a raised brow, and suddenly your shoes became very fascinating to you.
"I'll see you all soon."
"Keep us updated, will ya?" Hunter asked, giving you a nudge.
"Absolutely. Bye, everyone!" you gave one last salute before boarding your ship. As you engaged the take-off, Tech received a variety of shoulder-pats and nudges of sympathy from the squad.
And when your ship disappeared on the horizon, he found himself glued to the spot for several minutes.
