#world cup#football#fifa#soccer#fifa world cup#world cup 2026#england nt
seen from United States
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i forget how much i love the clones sometimes. then i look at them and go hehehehe hot bald man
BUT NOT ALL OF THEM ARE BALD I SWEAR!!!!
LOOK AT THE COPY PASTE MEN. LOOK AT THEM. FUCK THEY’RE SO FINE GRRRRRRR
Full Gear, Full Attention***
Pairings: Tech X Female Reader
word count: 2.2k
Plot summary: You discover that you have a gear kink while watching Tech, your boyfriend, work. This only leads to your first intimate encounter in the Marauder’s cockpit.
Warnings: NSFW, 18 + only. Explicit sexual content), Oral sex (first time receiving, f!reader), Fingering, Mild dom/sub dynamic (Tech as attentive/controlling), Armour/gear kink, Public-ish location (cockpit, though isolated) explicit language & sexual dialogue, established relationship.
Authors note: thanks for the request @crischem ♥️
The Marauder is unusually quiet this afternoon which usually means you should be doing something productive. Maybe you should be sorting tools, cleaning a crate, checking your weapons or even assisting Tech with one of his little tasks.
But the only thing you’re doing is watching your boyfriend work.
He’s bent over a console, tightening a bolt with a satisfied little hum, armour shifting and clinking softly every time he moves. And he’s fully kitted out today: chest plate, harness, holsters, gloves, helmet, the whole collection.
You should be helping him… You should at least pretend you’re not staring directly at his arse.
Instead, you lean back in your seat and sigh, trying and failing to tear your eyes away when he adjusts the panel and the muscles in his back shift beneath the armor.
He glances over his shoulder. “You are unusually quiet.”
You blink, caught. “Am I?”
“Yes.” He turns back to his console. “Normally you ask at least six questions while I perform maintenance.”
“I do not ask six—”
“You average nine,” he corrects without looking up. “Sometimes eleven.”
You flush. Then again, you couldn’t be surprised that he took note of your behavioural patterns. “I’m just… giving you space.”
He pauses again, just long enough that you know he’s assessing something. Then he resumes tinkering with a small component, the movement drawing your eyes downward to the way his gloves flex around the tool.
“What are you doing right now?” he asks mildly, though there’s an edge in his tone that makes your chest tighten.
“Watching you work,” you admit.
“Indeed,” he says. “I noticed.”
“What—” you hesitate, embarrassed, “—what gave it away?”
“You have not blinked in approximately twenty one seconds.”
You snap your eyes shut, mortified. “Well, maybe I was thinking.”
“Thinking,” Tech repeats. He sets the tool down and slowly, deliberately stands up straight. “Would you like to specify about what?”
His voice isn’t teasing or accusing, just gentle and intrigued. Tone warm enough to almost liquefy your spine and turn your legs into jelly.
You swallow as you shift in your seat, crossing your legs over one another… tightly. “About you.”
He steps away from the console and faces you fully. He looks so composed. So steady. And so impossibly confident in all that gear.
Maker, you’re in trouble.
“What about me?” he asks softly.
“You look…” you trail off, fighting the burn rising to your ears, “…really good in your gear today.”
Something flickers behind his tinted lenses. “Good?” he repeats.
“Yeah,” you answer, throat tight. “It’s just… there’s something about it today. I don’t know. You look…Put together.” You laugh nervously. “It’s stupid.”
Tech tilts his head slightly, studying you quietly. “It is not stupid,” he starts. “It is arousal.”
Your breath catches. “Tech—”
“It is,” he continues matter-of-factly. “Your voice has lowered in pitch. Your pupils are dilated. You are shifting your weight in a way that suggests warm fervour.”
You nearly choke. “Warm fer— Tech!” You sit up straighter than before and look around in case someone, anyone could hear or see you both.
He steps closer, “Don’t worry, we’re alone.” He then leans over you, tilting his bucket. “I’ve seen the way you look at me in my gear, just like today. You are having a physiological reaction to my armour.” His tone changes in a way that sends heat straight through your belly. “Are you aware of that?”
His words made you swallow hard. “I… wasn’t. Not until now.” A gear kink? This was news to you and honestly, you were not mad about it.
“And now?” His hands move to your hips, gloved fingers tightening in your shirt.
“Now I’m very aware of it.”
Tech inhales sharply, a sound that slides right beneath your skin. “I would like,” he says quietly, “to explore this new information.”
Your heart leaps. “Explore how?”
He gestures toward the cockpit behind him. “If you will follow me.”
You follow, heart thumping with every step you take. He lifts his hand to tell you to halt and you do with a small stagger and watch him in curiosity as he detaches the whole steering stick from the pilot's seat. “What are you doing?”
“Ensuring you are comfortable for what is about to happen. Also, this area demonstrates the best area for this activity.” He explains but you don’t quite follow.
Tech notices your confusion and with a flourish, you are lifted into his arms and placed exactly where the steering once was, practically sitting on the control board. “Woah-” you say breathlessly, eyes widening as Tech flushes up against you.
But instead of touching you, he reaches up to the side of his helmet and ever so Tech, says: “I cannot perform oral stimulation with this on,” he says simply. “And my intention is quite clear.”
Your breath leaves you entirely. “You want to…here?” you whisper.
Tech’s voice drops to a low heat. “I want to pleasure you. Thoroughly. Immediately.”
He then adds, almost shyly, “And repeatedly, if you are willing.”
Your stomach plummets in the best possible way. “Yes,” you breathe. “Take it off.”
He removes the helmet with practiced ease. The moment it’s off, he pushes his goggles up, revealing warm brown eyes already darkened with desire.
He sets the helmet aside before returning his attention to you. His mouth parts and your sex burns as you watch him inadvertently lick his lips. “Spread your legs for me,” he murmurs. “I would like to see all of you.”
Your breath stutters, but you obey. Your legs spread, but your whole being feels excitement as his hands gently guide your legs further apart, gloved palms warm against your thighs even through the fabric.
His voice softens. “You’re trembling.”
“Because you’re looking at me like that,” you whisper.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re starving.”
His jaw tightens. “I am.”
Then he takes a seat directly in front of you, lowers himself until he’s between your legs. The sight of him alone is enough to make your core clench. He glides his hands up your thighs and pauses at your waistband. “May I?”
“Yes,” you say instantly, voice meek.
Tech pulls your clothes down with carefully, panties included, setting them aside neatly before settling back between your thighs. The shift of his armour and the way it frames him sends a bolt of heat straight through you.
He exhales shakily, leaning in until his breath brushes sensitive skin. “You are already so warm,” he murmurs, voice thick. “I wonder if you taste as good as I imagine.”
“Tech—”
You don’t get to but in another word as his mouth covers you with a single, devastating stroke.
Heat explodes through you so fast your body jerks against the console, hands flying back to brace yourself but you barely manage to stay upright when Tech groans softly against you. The vibration shoots straight through your core.
You gasp, “T-Tech—”
He’s already looking up at you from between your legs, eyes molten, goggles fogging at the edges.
“This,” he breathes against you, lips brushing your swollen clit, “is far better than I predicted.”
You whimper, thighs trembling around his head. “You predicted this?”
“Of course.” He drags his tongue up the length of your sex, slow but deliberate, like he’s savouring data. “But the reality is significantly more intoxicating.”
Your fingers curl into his hair, and he groans at the pull before burying his mouth back against you. Maker, he’s thorough and hungry. It’s like he’s been waiting for permission to do this since the moment you started dating.
And maybe he has.
Your relationship is still new. Sweet and careful with kissing and nights curled into each other’s arms.
But nothing like this. The pair of you hadn’t gotten this far yet. And you definitely hadn’t imagined your first time with his mouth on you would happen on the Marauder’s cockpit console while he’s still half in armour because it was your kink.
He pulls back just enough to speak, voice ruined with want. “I have wanted to do this for weeks.”
Your breath catches. “Weeks?”
“I did not want to… assume your comfort level.” His thumb strokes your inner thigh gently. “But today, when you looked at me in my gear, I was left with no doubt.”
You let out a shaky, embarrassed laugh only to be cut off immediately by a sharp gasp as he licks your pussy again, firmer this time.
“You taste,” he murmurs in reverence, “extraordinary. Such a sweet pussy.”
You’re about to melt into the console just by his words alone.
Then, his gloved hand slides up your thigh, higher this time and pauses right between your legs.
“Tech,” you whisper, hips lifting instinctively at the loss of his mouth.
He raises his head a little. “I would like to use my fingers,” he says. “But these—” he wiggles his gloved fingers “—are hardly ideal.”
You blink down at him, dizzy. “Then take them off.”
He hums. “My hands are occupied.”
Before you can ask what he means, he brings two gloved fingers to your lips.
“Remove it for me.”
Your stomach drops yet your mouth opens before you can think. Most likely the heat, instinct, and want of this. So you bite down gently on the fingertip seam. He pulls back slowly, letting you drag the glove off with your teeth, sliding it free.
The way he watches you through it with an expression so focused, aroused and with breath uneven… nearly sets you on fire.
He repeats the process with the second glove, your mouth tugging it off while his gaze burns into you like he’s memorising the moment.
When both gloves are discarded, he leans in again, this time cupping you with bare, warm hands.
You shudder violently at the difference.
“Oh,” Tech whispers, voice tight with awe. “You react even more strongly to direct contact. Fascinating.”
Then one slow finger slides through your slick, just once, collecting you.
“And you are…” He breathes hard, pupils blown huge. “Stars above, you are exceedingly wet.”
You make a broken sound and he moans in response, actually moans, the sound vibrating against the inside of your thighs.
He brings his glistening finger to his mouth and tastes you.
And that’s what undoes you.
His lips part, his lashes flutter, and a shiver runs down his spine so obvious you feel it. “I need more,” he whispers.
You barely have time to inhale before he’s on you again. His mouth hungry and eager, tongue stroking deep, hands spreading you open so he can press in closer to devour you properly.
He licks like he’s noting down every single reaction, every twitch of your hips, every gasp that tumbles out of you. His fingers slide against you again, this time circling your entrance in sync with his mouth, building heat with devastating efficiency.
You’re already shaking. “Fuck- you’re so...”
“Let me,” he murmurs into you, voice thick before placing a sweet kiss to your clit, “please let me.”
Then he pushes two fingers inside you.
Your head slams back against the bulkhead, a sharp cry leaving your throat.
He gasps at the sensation, at the way you clench around him, his rhythm faltering for half a second as he processes the reaction of you wrapped around him for the first time.
“Oh,” he says, breathless delight spilling into his tone, “you are… perfect.”
Then he moves.
Slow, deliberate thrusts of his fingers paired with long drags of his tongue over your clit, down your folds, sucking, circling, mapping you with ruthless rigour.
Your thighs clamp around his head and he groans like that’s exactly what he wanted.
“T-Tech— I’m gonna—” you pant, one hand still holding the back of his head as if to guide him, the other one palming your breast just for that extra touch.
One of his hands tightens on your hips, anchoring you against the console as he looks up briefly, lips shiny, and voice ragged. “Then come for me,” his tone almost pleading. “Please. I want to feel you cum on my fingers.”
That does it.
The orgasm hits you like a blaster round—fast and overwhelming—your cry echoing off the cockpit walls as your back arches and your fingers clutch harder in his hair. Tech moans into you as you ride his mouth, pinned beneath your shaking thighs, eating every shudder like he can’t get enough.
You don’t realise tears have formed until you blink them away.
He doesn’t stop, even after you are done seeing stars when you close your eyes. He keeps going with soft, slow licks until the last tremor leaves your body and you sag helplessly against the console. His fingers twist and pulse slowly and leave you devastatingly empty when he pulls them out.
Only then does he finally lift his head. His lips are wet, cheeks are flushed and his goggles have slipped down his nose.
He looks wrecked.
And proud.
He rises slowly, placing both palms on either side of your hips, leaning in until his forehead nearly touches yours.
“You,” he breathes, voice shaking with controlled hunger, “are extraordinary.”
You reach for him, pulling him close until his mouth brushes yours.
“Tech,” you whisper, still panting, “can we do… more?”
He smiles softly like he was utterly in love and leans in. “With pleasure.”
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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.
"Don't worry," Hunter assured him. "She's strong. Skilled too."
"I am aware," Tech acknowledged. Another moment of silence passed. "Her engine sounded strange. Perhaps I should comm her."
Hunter chuckled, clapping his hand on Tech's shoulder. "Knock yourself out. I'm sure she'd be glad to hear from you."
Do Not Look Away
Tech x fem!reader
2.7k words NSFW - eye contact kink, unprotected sex, light dom
Tech never really paid mind to eye contact. Finding you staring him down, however, changed that completely and working him up more than he expected.
Notes: 'Sarad' means flower in Mando'an, cute nickname. This gif makes me feral. Just think of that on top of you.
Tech absorbed the details of his surroundings with a meticulous eye, viewing the world around him as an intricate web of data to be analyzed and understood. Eye contact, though useful for evaluating intentions and planning strategies, wasn't his primary focus.
This preference shifted unexpectedly during a routine briefing in the Marauder. While Hunter and Echo discussed the mission's terrain, and Wrecker and Omega showed their usual enthusiasm, Tech was busy ensuring the mission data on his datapad matched the verbal instructions. Satisfied, he pocketed the device and prepared to give Hunter his full attention.
That’s when he inadvertently met your gaze.
You were watching him intently, your eyes steady and revealing nothing that he could easily interpret. Surprisingly, it was Tech who broke the gaze first, a rare moment of vulnerability for someone so controlled. He quickly looked back, his interest piqued by the challenge you presented, and noticed a small, confident smile playing on your lips. It was slightly disconcerting yet undeniably captivating.
This momentary exchange unsettled Tech in a way he hadn’t anticipated. The directness of your gaze stirred something within him, igniting a flurry of thoughts that were less about data and more about the curious look you had. He found himself eager to understand the enigma of your steady eyes and the subtle confidence they conveyed.
For the first time, Tech felt an urge to maintain that connection, to hold your gaze and engage in a silent conversation only the two of you could comprehend. This newfound fascination made him want to explore this interaction further, to understand why you seemed so intent on him and him alone.
Tech had assumed that, under the circumstances, your attention would be squarely on Hunter as he discussed the mission details. Yet, when he glanced away for a moment to check on his brothers and Omega, and then back to you, the intensity of your gaze was undiminished.
As he held your eyes this time, a warmth spread across his face, an unusual sensation for him. His chest tightened, a physiological response that was both puzzling and intriguing.
The way the light caught in your eyes seemed to draw him in deeper, binding him to the moment in a way that data and analysis never could.
He had rarely seen you so intensely focused, and it felt as if he was discovering a new facet of you. Being the exclusive focus of your attention was absolutely fascinating. It sparked a curiosity in Tech - did you frequently watch him?
The thought that you might often watch him with such focus sent a thrill through him, stirring a newfound eagerness within. Though he could never be certain of your habits, one thing crystallized in his mind—he would not overlook such moments again.
When your gaze finally shifted away, Tech continued to watch you, his thoughts now revolving around how he might recapture your attention. His mind raced through potential conversations and shared tasks that could bring your focus back to him. It was a new kind of strategy, one that involved personal connection rather than battlefield tactics.
Over the course of the next few rotations, as the mission unfolded, Tech found himself increasingly attuned to your presence. He noticed each time you looked his way, though these instances seemed to become shorter and less frequent.
With every brief glance, Tech felt a mix of anticipation and dissatisfaction grow within him. Each fleeting moment left him more restless, his mind constantly toggling between the mission data and the enigmatic patterns of your attention
As the mission drew to a close, you were under Echo's care, receiving treatment for a leg injury. Hunter and Omega were at the controls, piloting the ship, while Wrecker had retreated to his bunk for some much-needed rest. Tech stood a short distance behind Echo, ostensibly engrossed in finalizing mission details on his datapad.
Echo was busy tending to your wound, periodically dictating observations for Tech to cross-reference against their medical logs. Despite the important task at hand, Tech found his focus drifting.
When you, perhaps growing weary of the silence, looked up, your eyes met his. Tech’s head was angled towards his datapad, but his eyes were fixed on you.
You stilled at the sight. His gaze lingered with his earlier impatience giving way to a quiet intensity.
The room filled with the soft hum of the ship and the low murmur of Echo's medical updates, but you couldn’t notice anything beyond Tech.
You were the one to drop your eyes first, searching the rest of his face for a clue as to what he was thinking. The sight of a slight smile pulling at his lips sent warmth crawling up your neck and straight to your core.
Just then, a cool touch on your leg snapped you jolted you back to present.. Echo's concerned face came into view as he applied bacta cream—a detail you would have noted had your attention not been so thoroughly captured by Tech.
“"Did that hurt?" Echo inquired, mistaking your reaction for discomfort.
With a nervous laugh, you shook your head. "No, no! Just cool, that's all." As Echo completed the bandaging, your gaze drifted back to Tech. He had turned his attention back to his datapad, fingers tapping away with a renewed sense of purpose.
The rest of the ride back to Ord Mantell was uneventful. Upon landing Echo, Wrecker, and Omega quickly filed out to head to Cid’s. Hunter paused to speak with Tech before following them out.
"Make sure the systems are fully functional. We took fire before we made it offworld; I’d rather be prepped to go rather than make repairs later."
From behind his helmet, Tech nodded, albeit with a bit of exasperation. “I was already on it.”
Hunter gave you a pat on the shoulder as he turned to leave. “Keep him on track, will you?”
Tech had already moved to the control boards by the time you caught up, his back to you as he deftly navigated through the various system checks on the displays.
You hesitated for a moment, torn between the memory of his intense gaze earlier and the task at hand. With a deep breath, you started to walk past him toward the bunks, trying to focus on anything but him.
But as you passed Tech, the sound of the Marauder’s door sealing shut echoed through the hold. You turned, instinctively looking back over your shoulder.
“Sarad,” his voice stopped you in your tracks. The tone, soft yet certain, made you turn fully towards him.
You felt his stare before you saw it.
Slowly, you turned to face Tech, who now stood between you and the door. The sight of his eyes, clear and penetrating behind the frame of his helmet, sent a thrill through you.
He moved towards you with slow, deliberate steps, his gaze fixed intently on yours. "It seems that you have been watching me," he stated, his voice calm yet carrying an undercurrent of curiosity. As he removed his helmet, revealing his full expression, the room seemed to grow smaller around you. "Without my knowledge."
A nervous smile briefly crossed your face, words struggling to form as you met his piercing gaze. "What can I say? You’re easy on the eyes," you managed, your voice barely above a whisper.
He took a few more steps forward, reducing the distance between you. Instinctively, you stepped back, your back almost brushing against the bunks. Tech paused, adjusting his goggles as he noted your movement. His eyebrows knitted together in concern. "Does this make you uncomfortable?" he asked, his tone softening, indicating his readiness to step back if you indicated any discomfort.
“Not in the way you might imagine.” You answered, referring, whether he realized it or not, to the ache growing between your legs.
The slight raise of his brows indicated he understood precisely what you meant.
Without breaking eye contact, Tech raised his forearm and activated his comm. “Hunter, diagnostics are showing this may take some time. If you want this done in short time, keep the interruptions to a minimum.” His tone was firm, ensuring no further disturbances would interfere.
It took only one more step for Tech to close the distance between you. He placed a hand on your shoulder, applying just enough pressure to guide you gently. Your body responded instinctively to his touch, moving backward until your legs hit the cot, prompting you to sit.
Tech towered over you momentarily before he angled his head back, taking in the sight of you sitting wide-eyed before him. His gaze was intense, yet there was a hint of wonder in his eyes as he processed this unusual situation.
With a gentle touch, he tilted your chin up with his forefinger, the air thickening between you. “If you wouldn’t mind…” His voice was low, almost a whisper as he moved to crouch, bringing himself to eye level with you. “Remove your pants, Sarad.”
His hand slid over your thigh, his thumb grazing perilously close to the apex of your legs. “If I am correct, I may be able to help with the discomfort you are feeling.” A confident smile played across his lips, adding to the mounting tension. With a teasing glint in his eyes, he added, “And I am seldom wrong.”
You swiftly removed your pants, and with Tech between your legs, he assisted as much as he could. The feel of his gloved fingers on your skin was unexpectedly intense, the fabric of his gloves somehow amplifying the heat rather than muting it.
Dressed only in your panties, you felt Tech’s focus shift as he noticed the wet spot forming on the fabric between your legs. His head remained still, but his eyes lifted to meet yours, his hand traveling up your thigh again.
His thumb brushed lightly over the wet spot and then slipped between the fabric and your skin right to the source of your wetness. His finger paused and his eyes widened slightly. “Just as I suspected.” It was all he said before he pushed his thumb into you.
A low whine escaped you and your head tilted back, overwhelmed by the sudden pressure. Noticing your reaction, Tech adjusted his approach, replacing his thumb with two fingers into the tender area, drawing your attention back to him sharply.
“Do not look away,” he instructed, his fingers moving with a deliberate, slow curl that echoed the steady cadence of his voice.
You inhaled sharply and found yourself gripping his shoulder. “Then give me more,” you managed, your voice a blend of challenge and plea.
Tech’s eyes widened again, his focus intensifying as he registered your reaction. He pulled his fingers from you, leaving you empty and wanting.
Using your knees for leverage, he shifted his position with the fluidity born of his training. He crawled on top of you, maintaining eye contact as you adjusted beneath him. You lay back with your spread legs on either side of him.
Tech lowered himself on top of you. Caging you in with a forearm resting next to your head, he ran a hand up your neck to lightly grip your face. “I assume you know what I’m going to do.”
Your hands move between you, pulling away his gear as your only response. “Don’t make me wait, Tech.”
A noise came from him, acknowledgement mixed with hunger, and he nodded. You worked him free of his pants, hand grazing over the length of him. He flinched at your touch, momentarily looking between you to where your hand worked on him.
He pulled one of your legs to hook around him and angled his hips to line up with your entrance. Feeling the tip of him rubbing against you, you tried for a view of it, but Tech’s hand found your face again. His thumb pulled at your lip, working your mouth slightly open.
“I already told you,” he grunted as the head of his cock pressed into you. “Eyes on me.”
When your eyes met again, Tech rolled the full length of himself into you. He filled and stretched you out, pushing into you even after being fully sheathed. The pressure he forced into you made you see stars and your hands gripped at his neck, working into his hair.
When he moved, it took everything in you to maintain the eye contact demanded of you. You wanted to lose yourself completely, but you stayed present, jaw opening more at Tech’s grip on your face.
“That’s a face I have not seen.” Tech commented, his voice slightly breathless as he increased the pace. “Show me more.”
As he worked deeper and faster into you, you convulsed around him and in response you felt him throb. Your eyes, that focused look that had entranced him so thoroughly, drove him into long hard thrusts to control his mounting ecstasy.
Your breathing became labored with his steady, relentless thrusting. You drug your nails over the back of his neck, pleading to him, “Tech, wait.”
“Negative,” he panted and, with a groan, changed his angle. His cock hit a soft spot into you, wracking you entirely with pleasure. The grip of your leg tightened around him, matching the squeezing grip you had around his cock.
For a moment, your eyes fluttered shut. The break in eye contact flared something in Tech. He needed your eyes on him. In the moment he thought he may never be able to stomach you looking at anything but him again.
Tech slammed his hips into you harder than before. Shoved deep inside you, he stilled and you arched at the ache of his cock rammed against your cervix. Your eyes flew back open and back to Tech.
“Tell me what you did.” Tech murmured, making you suck in a breath.
“I closed my eyes.”
He moved his hips back only slightly before ramming back inside of you. You moaned loudly against him. “What were you supposed to do?” Tech moved your face side to side, watching as your eyes stayed steady on him.
“Keep my eyes on you.” You said, practically on the verge of tears. You’d wanted this for so long, although this was more than anything you could have imagined. Barely able to keep a coherent thought, you worked your muscles tighter around him.
“Excellent.” He whispered, delighted at the submission you displayed. Tech receded from you and filled you again - over and over. He hadn’t missed the changes in you, the heightened pitch of your moans and the tension rippling through you, when he shifted his hips.
Maintaining that splendid angle, Tech pounded into you. A bit of your saliva dripped onto his thumb at your lip. Curiosity driving him further, he dipped his thumb into your mouth and roamed over your tongue.
The softness of your mouth around him and the moan it elicited from you drove him over the edge. He hadn’t anticipated you’d drive him into a near delirium.
“Sarad, I’m-”
“Do it,” You begged, already knowing what was coming. Your own release ready to unleash. “Please, Tech. I need you.”
Those three words sealed it. His thrusts became rapid and shallow until he grunted against you, completely losing himself inside of you.
You felt him spilling against you, each pulse of his cock releasing another wave of his seed. Your own orgasm squeezing out every desperate ounce of him until he went slack against you, his forehead resting against yours.
The look between you changed, softening. All the tension built up over your mission dissipated as you both relaxed into each other's arms. When his eyes roamed your face, you finally were allowed to do the same to him.
Pulling yourself up, you moved your mouth against his. The softness of the kiss almost working you up for another round.
Releasing your face, Tech pushed up to position himself upright. He righted his goggles on his face and fully took in the sight of you splayed out for him. His own fluids seeped out around his cock still buried inside of you. A satisfied smirk rested on his lips.
"Judging by your relaxed state, I'd say that was effective as anticipated.” He said, wiping the sweat on his face away with the back of his hand. “Comfortable now, aren’t you?”
The pleasant, delirious hum you managed told him all he needed to know. “We can always go again to test that theory.” You purred.
He chuckled, extending you a hand. “After we finish the diagnostics.”
Before And After [Part 1]
Tech x Jedi!reader
includes ... post-Order 66, reunion fic, somewhere during season 2ish, Jedi!reader, feelings confession, Pabu mention, major fluff, long fic, etc.
summary: the 99 found you in the Outer Rim systems, redistributing foods, and with no place left to go, you join them back to Pabu, but now you have to decide whether you're going to stay long term. can a certain clone convince you to stay?
Writer's Note: I just got back into Star Wars recently, and guess who likes Tech a slightly more than normal amount :nerd: (I wrote this in three days because I have no self-control)
AO3 link
banners by moosgraphics
"Hunter," Omega cuts through their conversation, cautiously.
She glances over her shoulder, briefly, to the cockpit where you and Tech navigate the Marauder back to Pabu in silence. He steers through hyperdrive, stoically focused on the space-time continuum, while you monitor the maps and comms systems, occasionally leaning over to the driver's seat to flick a switch Tech missed - which Omega has never seen him miss before.
"What is it, kid?" Hunter calls back her attention.
Omega frowns, trying to figure out exactly how to phrase her question, but as she looks between Hunter and Wrecker, she knows they already have an answer.
"We picked up a Jedi," she recalls. And both clones nod with her, uncrossing their arms. Wrecker leans forward, as if her question is a secret - one that he knows and needs to share with someone for once. "And you know her."
"We fought beside her during the War, yes," Hunter answers.
"Tech said that you guys thought you lost her." She looks at Wrecker, hoping he might be more forthcoming with your backstory, knowing that Tech (and most of the time, Hunter too) is not particularly an open book, unless prompted. "What did he mean by that?" Omega hops onto one of the bunk beds, sitting above eye level with her brothers. "I know about -" she lowers her voice, "Order 66." Omega peeks at you and Tech again through her sentence. You and Tech push forward two separate gearshifts. Normally, his large hand grabs both from the middle, pushing forward with his other hand on the wheel, but Omega watches you two do it together, index fingers almost punching each other. "But why are we bringing her back to Pabu?"
Hunter and Wrecker stare at each other for another minute; the entire Marauder so silent now that Omega can hear clicks from the cockpit down the hall. She kicks her legs between her brothers, drawing their attention again.
"Did they -" She pauses, searching for the right words again. "Did they fall in love or something?"
Hunter and Wrecker stare at each other again, the only indication of a conversation being the slight quirk of Hunter's eyebrow and a tilt of Wrecker's head. The Bad Batch knew that it was illegal for Clones to fall in love during the Galactic Republic. They were bred as property - to live, fight, and die for the Republic.
But for Omega, she didn't ever consider it to be illegal, especially not with the end of the War, end of the Republic. You and Tech, logically, might not have been able to say anything back then, but this is now. And Omega saw the way you and Tech shook each other's arms during your reunion. It looked like more than a simple forearm shake, especially for someone like Tech who barely initiates physical contact. He initiated that one though, that handshake for longer than you shook Hunter or Wrecker's hands. But you also ... just stood there, looking at him as long as he was looking at you, until Wrecker said something that made you laugh and break contact.
"Do they know it's legal now?" she whispers.
"It's, uh, a bit more complicated than that, kid," Wrecker says, rubbing the back of his neck. His entire suit creaks with his movement, filling in the silence.
Omega huffs and cross her arms like Hunter. "You're not telling me something again."
"More like they haven't told each other," Wrecker admits.
"What?!"
"Shh!"
All three of them glance forward at you and Tech, still sitting in silence, though now, you sit at the opposite edge of your seats, poking around the hyperspace buttons, not looking at each other. Omega can see Tech's ear perk in the captain's seat, from the gap between the chair and walls.
"I'll go check on our ETA. This route is still new to us, and I want to make sure Tech remembers the way," Hunter says, walking over to you and Tech, leaving Wrecker to fill Omega in on the gossip. It was one of the few things keeping life interesting for the crew during the War - Echo and Rex almost started a betting pool, and Hunter mentally prepared for any contingency plans, should the Bad Batch lose a member (he just didn't think it would be Crosshair, then Echo; then again, he didn't think Order 66 would've been A Thing).
Omega fully turns to Wrecker, sitting on her knees, eyes widening expectantly.
And Wrecker matches her energy, as equally excited, finally able to share this big secret more publically with someone. All of his close brothers knew about you and Tech, but none of them could speak about without code, otherwise face being court martialed.
"It all started on Corellia," Wrecker began, situating criss-cross applesauce across from Omega in his own bunk.
"Just checking on you guys," Hunter announces himself a quarter of the way from the pilots' chairs, his arms raised in surrender.
You single-handedly had your blaster drawn toward them, back in that seedy marketplace - no doubt to the clones that you used the Force to point the barrel at Hunter first. Taking out the squadron leader was often a strategy employed during the War, no matter who called the shots, Jedi and Clones alike. And in your other hand, underneath your open, form-fitted jacket, was a knife the size their palms. The hilt looked unnatural in your fingers, wrapping peeking between your knuckles. Even if you managed to stun - or worse, kill - one of them, Tech would have disarmed the knife you'd definitely stolen.
Evidently, you didn't trust them.
And none of them blamed you, lowering their weapons and showing off the scars on the sides of their heads where the biochips had been removed. Hunter was the first to tell you about it, but you didn't give into that trust until after Tech redirected you both to the Marauder where Omega and Wrecker waited. The kid helped you trust them a bit more - Hunter didn't know how much more though, even with Tech glued to your side, hence why he defaults to surrender in your presence.
"Take over copilot," Tech instructs monotonously, tugging a gearshift closer to himself, eyes unwavering from the window.
Hunter looks at you for confirmation, as if you ask for the reprieve through Tech, but you say nothing and you don't move.
"I only came to ask for an ETA," Hunter reiterates, slowly turning to his brother.
Tech's jaw squares and his hands tighten needlessly on the wheel (autopilot was turned on; Hunter just didn't know for how long). Hunter turns back to you, assessing the situation now. Your shoulders match Tech's jaw - squared and vigilant, but your eyes nearly fall into your cheeks, long shadows drawing a frown bellow the hollows.
You're still on alert in their presence.
Hunter guesses that the brief recap wasn't enough - again, not that he blames you; not that any of them blame you. They really only told you about the biochips, Order 66, the current mission, and about the kid. Hunter figured that they could tell you more on the way back to Pabu, but you stayed beside Tech the entire time, casually falling into routine as the copilot without another word.
"According to my diagnosis," Tech asserts, reminding everyone about his acting-medic role with Echo gone (again, something for which you did not know the history), "she needs rest, and for now, a brace until we can get someone to also bandage her chest on Pabu."
Tech speaks as if you're not seated right next to him and as if he were commanding the crew, a low edge to his tone, not up for debate. Though, you fail to agree, simply pressing two more buttons while Tech maps out your treatment plan, as if it were not meant to be implemented right now or for you.
"I'm fine," you say, short and nonchalant to both of them but mostly Hunter.
Neither of them, however, miss the way you hunch forward, using your small satchel to keep you sitting up. Tech stares at you from the corner of his eyes, and Hunter outright watches you, skepticism written across his face.
"We will be entering orbit in 20 minutes. Landing in 50," Tech notifies the cockpit, briefly speaking the announcement into the intercom so that Wrecker and Omega know to brace for impact. He sits back in the captain's chair, tightening his voice, "It would be unwise for an unprotected injury to face such gravitational force for that length of time."
"I am staying here," you assert, half panting by the end of your sentence. You lock yourself into the copilot's seat, buckling into the two-strap seatbelt, the lock ending the conversation.
"Okay," Hunter offers, having contributed nothing to the conversation but his presence. He takes a seat near the cannon controls behind Tech, to give you a visual of himself and him a visual of you.
In true Jedi fashion, you do not acknowledge him.
Once the ship docks, Omega, Wrecker, and Hunter clear the hull, shoving their latest haul into the plaza of the Pabu Island.
Omega objected at first, not exactly quietly, then Wrecker pushed her outside the ship. Hunter also followed, wordlessly and slowly, stopping at the door to see you and Tech interact. Neither of you unbuckled or removed your hands from the system controls. So, he sighed and left, closing the exit behind him.
Tech is the first to stand, immediately crossing to the singular storage cabinet in this cockpit - which happened to be behind your chair. You unbuckle as soon as he leaves your sight, holding your satchel tightly. Tech doesn't miss the way you grunt, hitting your head against the headrest.
"You need not stand for this," he says, sitting with you again.
More gently than he was in front of his brothers (and Omega), Tech holds your wrist and binds you into the brace. He holds your hand palm-side up, making sure the metal plate curves centered against your wrist.
"This will stabilize your wrist," he informs, tightening the third and final Velcro strap down your arm. He never speaks harshly directly to you, you realised before the Battles on Geonosis. Around you, yes, obviously, and sometimes in absolutes, but never directly or maliciously.
You turn your hand into his, the pads of your fingers latching loosely onto the heel of his palm. Your own palm arches where the metal rod is thickest, as if the two of you hold a small ball together.
"The brace is flexible enough for you to move your entire arm without aggravating your wrist. It will redistribute strain toward your surrounding muscles. If you feel further inflammation, ice should be applied on the area for no longer than 20 minutes. And use a towel to prevent direct contact of the ice with your skin."
You nod wordlessly, already knowing how a brace works from your time as a war commander, still staring at your hand in his. He hasn't removed it yet.
It reminds you of a marksman training remote like the ones used by Initiates at the Jedi Temples on Coruscant. You remember training with those remotes while practicing for the Trials. Tech used to interrupt your training sessions to shoot stun rays at you more practically - a helpful lesson at the end of the war as you dodged the Clone attacks under Order 66. They targeted the Jedi Masters first, en masse, to neutralize the largest threat, then hunted down their Padawans - like you.
"Tech," you call his name softly, with more emotion than a Jedi was usually afforded. But the Order is not here anymore; the Jedi are no longer here anymore. And your fatigue catches up with you. "Are you sure - Am I -" You inhale, blinking slowly before looking at him; he was already staring at your face. "Was it really a biochip?"
"Yes," Tech answers quickly, flatly in his usual cadence. He turns to the side, displaying a faded but protruding scar. "We had our chips removed roughly eight months ago. Wrecker was experiencing migraines, and Rex informed us -"
"Rex is alive?"
Tech blinks at you. Jedi and Clones severed communications after Order 66, he theorizes despite zero contact with another Force-sensitive user recently. There must be so much you do not know, and him too.
"Imperial records declared Captain Rex killed in action, yes, but he survived," Tech informs you. "And he helped us remove our biochips before we complied with ..." Your fingers twitch across his palm, and he sees your eyes flash, so he euphemises, "with that command. Wrecker was experiencing headaches and attacked Omega, showing us that we were not immune, regardless of our genetic mutations. Captain Rex led us to an abandoned Venator on Bracca where an adequate medbay could successfully remove our inhibitor chips, which were the cause for ... the incident."
"Our?"
Your eyes nearly pop out of your head, glassy pupils ready to pop if you leaned forward any more.
Here, Tech takes into account your entire demeanor, recounting the dark circles under your eyes and the deep hollows in your cheeks, as well as the burnt injury on your torso.
"We should get you to the medbay in our quarters, then the team and I will recap you on the status of the Clones," Tech declares. You almost fight back, but a yawn tears through your body and you groan with the aftershocks. "Come." He slides his hand further down your arm, raising you to your feet.
Tech instantly falls under your arm, nearly snapping his body in half to match your height. Then, he guides you out the ship, one step at a time.
"I brought some food. You looked hungry back on the ship."
It's been a couple hours since you docked, and when Omega saw the med staff leave the room, she decided to bring you a tray of fruit and bread - as a peace offering. Hunter said you were scared when they found you in the markets. And despite your best efforts to hide it, you reminded her of Gungi, the Wookie who the crew saved on one of her first missions. She pressed both Hunter and Wrecker for more information about you and why Tech, out of all of them, stayed with you. They gave her as many details about you and the former Jedi Order as they knew - which could be summarized in one sentence: Tech illegally fell in love with you, a Jedi, during the War, and he hasn't said anything about it, ever.
Omega hoped that these last few hours before sundown gave Tech a chance to confess, but the further she walks into the room, the more she feels the distance between the two of you. She places the tray on the empty nightstand and stands by your bedside in awkward silence, glancing from Tech leaning on the wall behind her to you sitting hunched over a pillow on the bed.
"Thanks," you smile at her. "Omega, right?" Omega nods, smiling back brighter, even though your tone indicates that you already knew who she is. "Tech told me a bit about you." You nod in his direction. "He was just catching me up on the status of Clones after ..." Your smile falters but doesn't fall. "After the War."
"I didn't see the War," Omega discloses, looking at the floor regretfully as if she could've done something to stop the outcome. "But my brothers are teaching me about it, and I've met other survivors. We met a Jedi Wookie survivor on one of my first missions before we settled here on Pabu."
"Pabu, right," you say slowly, swallowing a peeled rambutan. You glance at Tech again to confirm Omega's story, and he nods once, affirmatively. You both discussed the mythical Hidden Path, before Tech told you more about this planet and its safety net from the Empire and its Inquisitors, assuaging your anxieties. "Are there ... Are there other Jedi here too?" It's been months since you last meditated on The Force, not bothering to try sensing other Jedi for fear of being discovered, but maybe ... if the Wookie ...
"No," Omega answers, unable to give you something more than food again. "Not that we know. We haven't met any other Jedi either. I've just met the one. Well, now two," she gestures to you.
You put the rambutan shell back on the tray and push your satchel, with your dismantled lightsaber, behind your hip.
"Right, and I suppose Hunter told you about me," you eye her warily. If it wasn't the clones, then she heard it from a third source, meaning that someone is looking for you. It's not like you've been exactly silent the last year. You haven't drawn your saber since you found temporary refuge on a desert planet, but you have been redistributing Empire rations back to the people. Maybe someone was collecting intel on you as a rebel and pieced together -
"Yeah," Omega confirms, interrupting your thoughts. You blink at her, slowly registering what her confirmation means: no one is after you. "Hunter and Wrecker told me they knew you from the War. Wrecker said you bumped into Tech outside a meeting. He said that Tech broke your holopad," Omega laughs.
You smile with her and take a slice of bread. "Did he also tell you that Tech also stepped on my holopad and snapped it in half?"
Omega perches herself on the chair. "No! He just said that Tech broke it."
You smile at the clone behind the kid and his eyes briefly reflect your energy, giving you the okay to tell this story.
"I was supposed to arrive fifteen minutes early to meet one of the generals, and Tech ran into me around a corner."
"I couldn't have seen you," Tech speaks for the first time. Omega jumps. She looks over her shoulder at him while he continues, although she can't imagine a time when Tech wasn't looking down at some scanner. "I was following my brothers to a briefing room for our next mission. You were around the corner and half my height."
You wave him off. "Excuses. I was your commanding officer. You should have anticipated me," you joke.
"No, she wasn't," Tech tells Omega, rolling his eyes. "We were never assigned to the same battalion."
Omega tilts her head to the side, looking at Tech. "Then how did you fall -" She catches the warning in his jaw and rephrases carefully, turning back to you, "How did you get so close with my brothers?"
"My master," you start brightly, then realize who you were talking about and frown. "I was always at the Temples or in briefing rooms where 99 would get their missions, and I guess," you sigh at Tech, "we stuck together."
"So," Omega draws out, "that's it? You just saw each other a lot?"
You laugh. "We did fight on the same battlefield. We just had separate missions."
Tech crosses the room and sits on the foot of your bed. "You were one of the few Jedi who ate with us in the same mess hall."
You smile at him, sinking into your pillow again, half-eaten starfruit now resting on your thigh. "I was one of a few Jedi on the battlefield with you in the first place. The Council only assigned three or five of us at a time." You put the starfruit in an empty bowl on the nightstand and hug the pillow tighter.
Omega watches Tech watch you fiddle with your hands, none of you saying anything for a moment until Tech stands up.
"We should let you get some sleep," he declares, already guiding Omega out the door. "The medical droid agreed; rest will replenish your body. It will also give you time for the salve to heal your ribcage without straining your bones."
Before Omega can confront Tech about this new revelation (that he is in love with you), he is already climbing up the stairs, like a true assassin under the mask of night, to his quarters.
"What are you doing?"
Omega jumps at Wrecker's voice and turns around to find two of her brothers. Wrecker catches her eye first, standing tall and broader than Hunter, eyes a bit more mischievous too. Meanwhile, Hunter just has his arms crossed, face observant as ever, as if he already knew what Omega had been up to.
"Nothing," she answers to Hunter, even though Wrecker asked.
"What are they doing?" Hunter asks, nodding to the Marauder, where you and Tech fix some of the wiring underneath a collapsed wing that had been shot during a previous mission. Hunter isn't literally asking what you two are doing. He knows.
"They've been doing this all morning," Omega answers.
It has been five rotations since you arrived to Pabu, none of the clones taking up another mission while you recover (they hadn't needed credits so badly anymore without Cid). Tech stayed within your vicinity at all times, often explaining his role as acting-medic while the actual staff was busy. He reiterated that title enough for you to also explain his presence the same way. And now, you follow Tech's schedule - breakfast, ship repairs, lunch, training, dinner. It's just that this was the first time Omega stalked you guys.
"So they're fixing the ship," Wrecker comments, pointing in your direction loudly. No doubt to Omega that you heard and compromised her position. She face palms, standing up tall. "Big deal. I have some weapons onboard that need modifications too. We do this everyday. We've seen them do this before."
Before the Order, Omega notes. All of them have memories with you from before the Order, and Hunter and Wrecker have been open about them, but their stories feel incomplete to Omega. Like, how did you get close with Tech after he broke your holopad? None of them confirmed whether he fixed it, or you got a new one. Or why does a Jedi know how to fix ships, evidently on par with Tech for the things you do fix? He doesn't even need to say which tools he wants before you're handing off the correct one. Actually, Omega isn't sure you've said a word to each other the last 20 minutes that she has been observing you two.
"Have you always had this ship?" she asks, lips pursed.
"It's been in our command since our formation," Hunter tells her. "Even before ... before Echo joined us."
Omega nods solemnly. So, you have known the 99 for ... forever, before she was an enucleated egg - because that's the word everyone uses when talking about you: before. It didn't occur to Omega that the clones actually acted on their emotions. All the brothers she met were loyal and duty-bound. She fought with Tech about Echo's departure and cried to Hunter about Crosshair's betrayals. Even the clones beside Senator Chuci had no concept of after the War or beyond their military conscription.
A soft yelp tears through the empty garage, followed immediately by a metallic thud, pulling all three of their attentions to you and Tech.
"I told you to keep on the brace," Tech scolds, his tongue clicking loudly.
With his back turned to the crew, Omega can only see a glimpse of your bare wrist between the poles as Tech guides you under the flashlight on his visor. Your face is equally hidden by a pole, perfectly too as if it were the size of your head. She can't see how you react to him - hopefully not a lot, given the way Tech gently wraps you arm with a loose bandage and thin metal rod. His eyebrows hidden by his visor too, but Omega imagines them perpetually furrowed in concentration, even more so now.
"The medic said I have to build strength," you retort softly. Omega has to strain her ears to hear you, nearly falling over a cargo crate. "I can't exactly do that, lifting planks twice Wrecker's size on lower Pabu." Tech gives you back your wrist, and you cradle it against your chest. "Unless you think rebuilding homes is better suited for my skills?"
"No," Tech answers flatly, a tone that Omega is accustomed to receiving. "I suppose you are more useful transporting supplies than you are gathering them. We have grav-carts for - What?"
"You agree with me," you marvel.
"Well, yes." Omega sees Tech adjust his visor to his forehead. "You gave a sufficient argument, and I changed my stance based on new information. This not the first time."
"You disagreed with me on Yalbec Prime."
"Yalbe - You were in imminent danger on Yalbec Prime. I initiated our best contingency plan to save both my squad and your battalion, as well as the 3-32 Legion."
"You were in more imminent danger than I or any of my fellow Padawans," you retort, voice still soft. There was no debate, to Omega, that either of you are arguing. You're simply recounting another battle she had not fought, or known.
"I hardly think mating constitutes as a threat."
Omega turns to her brothers. "What happened on Yalbec Prime?"
"Uh," Wrecker starts, rubbing the back of his neck.
"The Galactic Republic liberated Anaxes from Separatist control," Hunter answers without question, in a vague, not entirely accurate record. "Come," he gestures to both of them. "Tech will take you flying later. Let them finish repairing the ship before your lessons. We should help rebuild lower Pabu while a man down."
"But -"
"Now, Omega."
"Fine," she huffs, walking ahead of her brothers.
She just wanted to know more about them, about the Republic when she had more brothers, about you. It's not like Tech was forthcoming about non-technical data or even aware of his feelings. And with them staying on Pabu indefinitely, maybe Omega can help them settle.'
Omega flashes a glance back at you and Tech and accidentally meets both your eyes. She blushes deeply and runs down to the villages to help with building houses again.
"Curious one, she is," you comment about Omega.
You sit inside the Marauder cockpit with Tech now. He is standing, though, making adjustments to the pilot's seat for when he takes Omega on a driving lesson.
"Yes," he confirms, distracted by the addition of a booster seat. "Omega grew up on Kamino with little contact outside Nala Se. It is reasonable to assume she is curious about the galaxy. We have been teaching her surveillance skills, and as we fly through the Empire, she becomes more curious about why things are they way they are." He sighs, leaning against your chair. "The only history we can explain is about the War. It's not like we were bred for anything else."
You slide your legs off the chair and put a hand over where his rest on the shoulder pad.
"Does this not count as 'anything else'?"
"I'm not sure I understand to what you are referring," he enunciates, pulling out just one of his hands to push up his glasses.
Your face falls slightly again, but you pick up your smile when he starts analyzing you.
"This," you repeat, gesturing to the vessel with your injured hand. "Tech, you're raising a kid and building a community. You've settled on this planet and made a new life for yourself."
"While true facts to some extent," he acknowledges, turning his hand palm-side up to hold yours more tightly now, "Hunter, Wrecker, Omega, and I still venture into the galaxy in search of our brothers and on our own mercenary missions. It is not entirely correct that we - I have made a new life when we still operate as a Clone unit."
"Mmhmm," you hum and squeeze his hand. "Even if half-correct, I am still correct."
Tech stands there, holding your hand in deeper meaning than when they first found you.
"Would you -" He interrupts the comfortable silence, and your eyes dilate at him. "Would you like to join me for Omega's flying lessons this afternoon?"
You open your mouth, but he continues before you can even squeak. And all you can do is smile at him, waiting with the patience of a Jedi for him to finish.
"I understand it might not be wise to fly with a ... novice pilot," he gives you a chance to decline politely, "given that your injuries's still pertinent." Tech gestures, with your intertwined hands, at your ribcage, then at your wrist. "And while not particularly optimal condition for battle or for stealth mission, perhaps your injuries could ... sustain ... a single flying lesson with Omega ... and me," Tech trails off.
"Excellent argument," you agree, as you initially would have without debate. "Will we go after lunch?"
"I would not suggest having a full stomach while Omega drives," he says flatly. But he smiles when you laugh.
"It's been a long time since I've had a full stomach," you admit.
"Same," Tech corroborates. "Although, it may become more commonplace, the longer we stay here, on Pabu."
"We?"
"Yes." Tech pulls out a tablet. "I marked the date and time when Wrecker first had a full stomach on this planet." He shoves the screen at your face, and you grab his hand with both of yours, slowly peeling it backward.
That wasn't what you meant.
"You haven't been here for as many rotations as I thought," you admit, then place the tablet between your thighs. "Was that your first night?"
"Yes." Tech pushes his glasses up his nose again. They keep falling, the longer he looks down at you. "The island experienced a sea surge that night, too, but thankfully no one was harmed. We got everyone on the high ground before the lower level flooded. It's what we're rebuilding now." Tech looks toward the exit. "Hunter, Wrecker, and Omega should be down there right now." He looks back at you, and you start running your thumb across the heel of his palm. "Omega has a friend - Lyana, daughter of the mayor. You met them at your first feast."
You hum again, recalling the same events. "Mayor Shep and his daughter Lyana." You cast a small glance at Tech, frowning lightly but not malicious. "And the pirate."
"Phee."
"Phee," you repeat, nodding slowly, trying to place the way he says her name but he speaks too quickly.
"She calls herself a 'liberator of ancient relics'," Tech recites, then grows more serious, though he doesn't understand why. "She led us here after our agreement with Cid no longer proved mutually beneficial."
You nod again. "The Trandoshan from Ord Mantell."
You'd frequented the Mid RIm Territories during the War, especially when accompanying General Kenobi to the Numidian System, but you rarely touched based in the Bright-Jewel System where Ord Mantell is located. You had no reason by yourself, as a Padawan, barely making it to a Knight in the waning years of the Republic, because Ord Mantell eventually came to house crime syndicates. All your informants were in deeper lower levels of the Galactic Republic systems, and they were few. Not everyone was as connected as the Generals on the High Council - hence why you can't find the Hidden Path now, or any other Jedi. Even, the 99 were the ones to find you this time.
"The pirate," you circle back.
"Phee," Tech corrects.
"Phee," you say slowly, mimicking his nonchalance, watching him closely. He hasn't let go of your hand yet, and his stance looks uncomfortable as he tries to match your height, though he says nothing. "Is there a reason you chose to settle on her homeworld?"
Tech adjusts his glasses again. "We were informed that this planet has minimal resources for the Empire to mine, making it highly unlikely for them to search here." He takes note of your frown. "Plus, the Mayor told Hunter it is a good place to raise a child, and we have not been proven wrong."
"I see."
"Was that ... not a satisfactory answer?"
"What do you mean?"
Tech frowns deeper than you now, and he searches your eyes. "What do you mean?" He squeezes your hand tightly.
And you wince. "Tech, you're hurting me."
He lets go instantaneously and massages your hand with both of his. "I'm," he sighs, already forgetting the conversation. "I'm sorry. I know that I am not as strong as Wrecker, but I forget my own strength sometimes."
You place your injured hand on top of your hands, sandwiching his between your palms.
"It's okay, Tech," you smile. "Should we get lunch?"
Tech nods and guides you out the ship again, gently holding your uninjured hand.
At lunch, Tech wordlessly sticks to your side.
The Mayor set up a buffet-style feast for his constituents as a reward for everyone's community service. You told them that you can hunt some fish because you haven't exactly been a stellar community member while injured, but the Mayor assured you that the food was for everyone, especially the sick and injured. You'd have continued arguing, if Tech hadn't guided you down the table for lunch, leading you by the elbow.
His presence filled up the entire space, moving behind you as an extension of your shadow. Where you go, he goes, not even following because he correctly anticipates each of your moves.
You neglect most of the protein, filling a plate full of vegetables you hadn't seen since before the War. Tech doesn't copy you. Instead, he takes the protein - two fish and a breast - with a cup of vegetables, to ward off scurvy. His meal plan, lacking variety, made it easier to follow you down the table, picking a wide variety of colorful foods.
"Fish is a lean protein-rich food that can stimulate your inflammatory immune response," Tech comments on your selection, scanning the vegetables with his goggles. "It would be best to minimize muscle atrophy with protein."
"Mhmm, what an interesting concept," you agree, grabbing a starfruit the size of your palm. You hold it up to him, smiling with all your teeth, and he smiles back at you. "These have high levels of antioxidants that can also help during recovery," you tell him, putting the fruit on his plate and grabbing another one for yourself - one slightly bigger. "Good thing, I am halfway recovered now."
"Halfway, not completely," Tech points out and adds a fish belly to your plate, separating it from the vegetables by a blade of lettuce. "According to the med droids' scan, you still have at least another six rotations until your ribs set in their proper place."
You roll your eyes and accept it.
"Are there things you don't know?" you ask rhetorically and slip to the table with the rest of the 99 and Omega.
"I know most things, yes," Tech denies. "And I know how to apply the most relevant information to our situation. It is rare that I or my scanner do not know anything."
You roll your eyes again and sit next to Wrecker, Tech following on your other side with Hunter. The table is circular, giving you a view of all the clones and Lyana.
"Hi," you wave at the children and introduce yourself.
"Hi," they wave back.
"I'm Lyana," Omega's friend returns. "I'm not sure if you remember me. We met at your first feast."
You nod. "Your aunt is the pirate, Phee, and your dad is Mayor Shep. He mentioned you the few times I've talked with him."
Mayor Shep made a habit to check on you in the mornings along with his other constituents. He always makes sure to chat with you for a couple minutes until moving onto the next citizen - no doubt for your comfort. It seems everyone noticed how on edge you were the first couple rotations of your stay.
"She's going to join us for your flying lesson after this," Tech tells Omega between bites. You didn't realise he had been carrying on his own conversation at the table.
"Really?!" Omega turns to you, practically bouncing in her chair.
You nod, munching on a carrot. They're good for digestion - and potential nausea. Tech did say that Omega is still a novice pilot, not that your skills are much better. But you've acclimated to motion sickness in the latter half of your life so far.
"I think it's a good way to see more of the planet and the island," you explain, swallowing the last bite of your carrot. "And I could offer some insight to intraplanetary flying, I think."
"Does that mean you're staying?" Lyana asks hopefully. "Here?"
"Or ... with us?" Omega adds.
You pause mid-bite, chopped up salmon halfway to your mouth, and look at the kids. Tech tenses by your side. He's an unavoidable wall between you and them, your chairs pushed so closely together that your arm rests are basically one. One that Tech occupies, keeping you close.
"I - I haven't decided anything." Both girls sink into their seats, so you add, "Yet. I haven't decided anything yet."
"It is unwise," Tech comments, using his favorite word, "to make a major life decision while injured."
"I'm halfway healed," you remind him.
"Halfway is not completely."
You frown and grumble at your plate.
The girls turn to each other, whispering a conversation only people with enhanced senses can hear. People like the three clones at your table, specifically Hunter and Tech who flank their sides. You could hear them too, if you concentrated enough, but it has been months, if not a year, since you were last in tune with the Force. Severing your ties to it was your best chance at survival, until now. And even now, you are unsure about your near-future, much less your distant future, especially with Tech - the 99 back in your life.
You'd been unsure of your future during the then-endless War, too, like when you met Tech, but after speaking with some of the Grand Masters, you figured that your feelings were the normal doubt that every Padawan and Jedi has before committing themselves to the Order, forever. And it was illegal for Clones to fall in love, according to Galactic Republic rules. You thought the Kaminoans might have made them incapable of such humanoid emotions. Maybe you even hoped they did - to make your choice easier, logical, fitting of a Jedi Master.
There were rumors, of course. Rumors that the Clones would whisper about in the mess halls when you sat with 99. Rumors about deserters who formed families. But you knew that if you saw one, you'd have to turn them into the council. It was in your job description as a commander for the Galactic Republic, and as a Jedi Padawan for the Jedi Council. So, none of them could be forthcoming with the rumors, not even as fairytales, not even as conversation with the 99 or your battalion, the 106th.
Though, you consider, taking another bite of the salmon Tech put on your plate, they could tell you about the rumors now that it doesn't matter, now that you are no longer a mandatory reporter. It could force Tech to read between the lines, maybe make one or two comparisons to connect your dots.
"Would," you interrupt everyone's conversations, mental or verbal, and they all turn to you, eerily attentive, especially Omega. You glance at Tech for a second, then look directly at the girls. "Would you both be okay if I stayed here, on Pabu, for awhile?"
They say nothing, just stare at you with wide eyes.
"It might not be forever, I don't know yet," you explain slowly, cautiously, tossing a small glance at Wrecker and Hunter across from you then at Tech who remains stiff at your side. "But if you're okay with that," you say pointedly to Omega, who walks behind Tech until she reaches your chair.
"You're going to stay?" she asks, asking to cement her loyalty to you. "With us?"
You nod once. "Just for the time bein -"
Omega launches herself at you, hugging you around the neck.
You grunt, twisting your body to face her before she snaps your sensitive ribs in two, and pat her back, as you have seen parents do with children. You look at Tech and find him already staring at you with his regularly unreadable face.
"Here."
Tech lifts your chin and points your face to the left, baring your neck at him so that he can place an intradermal anti-motion sickness patch. It's longer lasting than an injection, he told you, and you'll need it for the duration of Omega's training.
He throws the trash in a waste bin on the opposite side of the Marauder's medbay, then crosses over to the scanners, to check your injuries once more. A safety inspection, he said.
"Tech," you call his name softly. He hasn't said anything of value to you since you told Omega that you might stay on Pabu. It's only logical, you thought he might say, because the Empire is hunting Jedis. But he hasn't acknowledged your plans.
"You haven't said anything," you tell him.
"I just informed you of the med patch," he retorts, swiping to the scan of your vitals.
"You haven't said anything about my arrangements."
"Your quarters here on Pabu are certainly comparable to wherever you'd been living in that marketplace." He hooks the scanner back on its stand and rifles through a medicine cabinet.
"That's not what I meant."
Tech turns around, leaning on the cabinet now, and picks through a jar of bandage scraps.
"What did you mean?" He says it distractedly, in line with his mastery over multitasking,
"Tech, I want to stay -"
"Excellent," he interrupts, taking your hand to change out your brace for a lighter-weight compression band. "Stay still."
"Tech," you stress his name, ducking your head to block the visual of your wrist.
And he finally looks at you.
"What?"
He says that so earnestly, as if you could be talking about literally anything.
You grab one of his hands, holding it between both of yours, now bare without the brace, waiting for him to bandage you up.
"Tech," you say his name again. "I'm -" You exhale loudly in the small space of the room. "Would you be okay if I stayed here ... with - with you... r crew?"
Tech stares at you for a moment, considering your words. "Have you spoken with Hunter?"
"No, I -"
"It would be wise to speak with Hunter before making this decision, seeing as he leads the team."
"Tech."
He stares at you, and you sit up straighter, slowly pulling the words from your teeth.
"I wouldn't ask Hunter without asking you first."
"Why does my opinion matter?" He tilts his head to the side, pretty brown eyes narrowing slightly. "It is logical that you stay on Pabu, far from the Empire's Inquisitors. I only suggest that you not make long term decisions while injured. Your current condition can influence your likelihood to -"
"Tech, I love you."
"- to remain hidden or venture into battle." He pushes his glasses higher up his nose. "You what?"
"I love you," you say with more affirmation. "I have since the War." You pull your hands back into your lap, pushing Tech back a step. "I wouldn't ask Hunter without your permission, because I love you. Your comfort is most pertinent. If my presence disrupts you, then I disrupt the team and Hunter wouldn't allow me with you anyway."
Tech takes your hand again. He places two med patches on either side of your wrist, then tightly winds a bandage for compression up your hand.
"I thought it was obvious," you continue, although Tech doesn't release your hand. "I thought maybe ..."
You frown at the ground and pull your hand out of his grasp, but he moves just as quickly, placing his palms on your face, making you look at him.
"Tech," you say his name slowly, the single syllable elongating into three, your eyes walking closer to his - to really gauge where he stands.
All he says is your name.
He breathes your name, heavily accented now by Mando'a. Then, he kisses you, as equally slow and softly, as if beginning a research experiment. And when he pulls away, he mumbles a Mandalorian word - one that you have heard before, during the War, but did not understand, since it was not a strict tactical word. Jedi were only given minimal language instructions to communicate military strategies with a variety of species, not kiss them.
"What does that mean?" you ask him, drawing in a large breath and holding it in your throat.
"Cyar'ika," Tech repeats, stroking your face. "It comes from the word cyare, meaning beloved. It .. It is a term of endearment," he clarifies, "for loved ones."
And you smile at him. He used a term of endearment on you.
"So you'll be okay if I stay with the 99?"
Tech nods. "I wouldn't make definite plans -"
"While injured, I know," you finish for him, rolling your eyes. "But I am halfway healed."
"Halfway is not completely," Tech reminds you. His hand slips behind your neck, giving you support while you look up at him. "But, uh, no, I was going to say that I wouldn't make definite plans before you experience Omega's piloting skills."
You tilt your head to the side, then when you get the joke, you laugh. But your laugh is short lived as he kisses you again, pressing you toward the medical bed.
"I love you, too," Tech breaks away, his forehead resting on yours, "In case that wasn't clear. I have also loved you since the War."
>> Part Two >>
Am I allowed to ask for my clone husband back? Please?
not bad at all
Tech x reader
summary: Yeah it's kinda just the reader's first time kissing and making out with Tech.
warnings: kissing, making out, first kiss
words: ~550
a/n: hello everyone! i thought a lot about posting this, but i decided i give it a try! it's been a long time since i wrote something for tech, but i hope you enjoy!
MASTERLIST
It's your first kiss.
You're not sure if it's his first, it certainly doesn't feel like it - but then again, you don't have any examples you can compare this to.
Not that you want to.
He's bent over you, supporting his weight with his forearms, that are positioned on each side of your head.
Every time he looks at you, you feel like melting into a small puddle just beneath him, and at some point you wonder how it didn't happen already.
You put your hands on his shoulders and use your thumb to draw small circles on his neck.
For a second, you look into each other's eyes. You see how his roam over your face, to make sure anything is okay, before he meets your gaze again.
"How does it feel?" Tech asks and comes closer again.
You turn your head up and slightly tilt it to one side, ready to meet his lips with yours.
When they do, a little gasps topples out of your mouth, but none of you mind.
Tech's mouth is heaven. His tongue is warm and gentle against yours. And so wet.
You didn't think kissing would be that... wet and messy. Of course, you knew you would have to use your mouths to do it, but you just somehow forgot about the spit when you imagined doing that. With him.
The feeling is... weird. It's unexpected, and when you picture yourself with someone else you would be doing that with, you would be freaked out. But- It was Tech. And knowing that, feeling him close like that, makes a shiver run down your spine.
"It's... strange," you mumble when you break away. You're still so close, your lips touch when you talk.
You look up into his brown eyes, that are framed by his goggles.
"Strange?" He asks back, hesitating to put another kiss on your lips.
"Yeah," you whisper and close the gap for another small kiss. "But not bad."
Tech moves his lips against yours, this time it's without his tongue, and you could do that forever.
His lips are warm and smooth, and he smells so good, and he is so close-
You let your hand wander from his shoulder to his hair, burying your fingers in his curls, pulling him closer.
This time, a groan leaves his lips while he adjusts his position, almost laying on top of you.
Tech starts to place small kisses around your face, until he reaches your neck, making you shiver one more time.
"Not bad at all," you whisper and press into him. He couldn't be close enough at that moment.
But you feel like you need him closer, closer, closer.
"Tech," you gasp again when he hits a sensitive spot around your throat.
He hums quietly, but doesn't stop his exploring.
The hand that isn't in his hair, clings to his shirt. You need something to hold on.
When he decides to end his playtime around your throat and comes up again to look into your face, you're speechless.
His cheeks are so red, his lips look gorgeous, pink, like they want to be kissed again. His hair is messy, thanks to your doing and his eyes, oh his pretty eyes, are so full of love and adoration, you couldn't do anything else than pull him close again.
Really not bad at all.
MASTERLIST
TAGLIST
@isthereanechoinhere96 @trixie2023 @freesia-writes
I’ve recently fallen into Tech and Crosshair brainrot and we just had a storm here and I was wondering…may I request comfort headcanons of the bad batch comforting the reader during a thunderstorm? I tend to flinch like a big baby whenever I see lightning or a big rumble rolls through but I still sorta enjoy thunderstorms like if I’m safe if that’s any help or writing inspiration 👉🏽👈🏽 I hope that makes sense I’m super shy and have never requested any writing before. Like I can totally see Tech explaining the science behind thunderstorms to comfort the reader and Crosshair teasing them but secretly priding himself in being the reader’s “protector” hehe
Hey anon!
I really like the concept of this request, and I hope you enjoy it!
[The Bad Batch x gn!reader (headcanons)]: Thunderstorms and comfort
----
----
Summary:
You tend to be afraid of thunderstorms, but thankfully, your favourite batcher is always there for you.
TRIGGER WARNINGS: None, fluff. Crosshair's a bit of an asshole but that's it.
Enjoy!
Requested by: anon.
----
HUNTER:
Due to his heightened senses, Hunter usually gets very annoyed by thunderstorms. But he doesn't get as scared as you as he's used to thunderstorms.
He noticed you flinch every time lightning struck, and the sound of thunder filled the Marauder's walls.
He approached you, asking if you were alright. Clearly, you weren't doing fine. However he wanted to make sure.
"Ad'ika...are you scared of thunder?" He asked, sitting down next to you.
You nodded and laughed it off.
"Yeah, just a bit."
He understands your fear, after all, loud sounds like thunder do bother him and sometimes freak him out.
He suggested playing Sabaac to get you distracted from the loud noise, and it worked.
Even though Hunter isn't a very touchy man, he agreed to cuddle with you that night to keep you company.
ECHO:
As he's lived lots of things, he's used to thunder.
Especially, since he grew and spent most of his childhood in Kamino.
He didn't know you were scared of thunder, though.
Echo doesn't really like physical touch, but he's willing to talk you through the scariest moments of the storm.
When he first realised you were scared of thunder, he sat down next to you and sked you if everything was alright.
He's willing to stay with you as long as you'd like, probably until you fall asleep.
Sweet boy will soothe you telling you stories about his old brothers, and the adventures he had with them.
He knows that calms you down, and he doesn't mind doing it often, especially since it rains most of the time the Marauder lands on
WRECKER:
To be fair, he was really surprised when he saw that someone that fought against stormtroopers every day and other people on a daily basis.
However, he didn't see you as weak, as some might think. It was actually quite the contrary.
He used to be scared of thunderstorms too, so scared that he'd even ask Omega for Lula back sometimes so he could hug her.
The rain reminded him of Kamino and that sometimes scared him, or brought back some odd memories.
"Well, you can hold my Lula if you want, sarad." he offered, once he realised you were scared of thunder.
"You...sure?"
"Hah! Yeah! I ain't scared of nothing!"
Of course, he always offers to cuddle, since it's his way of showing love and he also feels like he's protecting someone he loves as much as you.
TECH:
He's used to thunderstorms and perhaps slightly weirded out by the fact that you're scared of them.
"Are you scared of thunderstorms?"
He didn't need an answer when he saw you flinch when the thunder struck.
He blinked a few times, analysing the scene before he left his tools and sat down right beside you.
"You see, sarad, thunder is the sound caused by a flash of lightning."
You stared at him while he explained with his datapad de process of lightning.
"As lightning passes through the air, it heats it up the air really quickly. This causes the air to expand rapidly and forms sound waves we, as humans, hear as that sound"
He passed the datapad onto you, while adjusting his glasses and looking at you.
"Does that information suffice for you not to be scared anymore?" He asked.
You nodded, yet asked him to keep telling you facts about thunder.
CROSSHAIR:
Loves teasing you about it.
"You scared of thunder, mesh'la?"
It doesn't matter if you try give him the silent treatment, he will tease you endlessly until you scream 'YES' to the seven seas.
Even though he teases you and calls you weak for being scared of thunder, he still prides himself whenever you silently ask for a hug so that you feel protected.
He has a lot of pride, but his ego grows bigger whenever he gets the chance to tease and call himself your protector.
He loves hanging on to your waist whenever you flinch or pout at the sound of thunder.
----
Yeah no, let's act as if I didn't post for three whole months because teachers want to kill me TT
I hope you all have a great Christmas day!
And I'm so sorry I took this long to make this request :((
(I might go on another hiatus, again, due to everything I have to do TT)
