The Extremely Bad Batch - part2
(Part 1 - here) (part 3 - here)
warnings: stockholm syndrome, dubcon, emotional manipulation, toxic relationship dynamics, yandere, tbb unhinged
note: this is a whole mess if you don’t read part one, I highly recommend reading that first. Ily thank you for taking the time of day to read my insanity <3
⛓️The Bad Batch as toxic boyfriends⛓️
Hunter
mini summary: toxicbf!Hunter basically gets off on your fear and is addicted to it, so he often likes to play chasing you in the woods at night
The night’s chase had been rougher than usual.
By the time Hunter finally cornered you in the forest, your lungs were burning so badly you could barely breathe. The second he stepped out from the shadows you broke completely; panicked sobs, shaking hands pushing uselessly against his chest as you tried to get away from him.
“Don’t- don’t touch me-!” You could barely get the words out between breaths. Hunter said nothing at first, he just grabbed you.
Strong arms hauling you against him no matter how much you struggled, your pulse hammering wildly beneath his fingertips as he carried you back through the dark trees. Rain soaked through both of you, branches snapping under his boots while your breathing turned more frantic against his shoulder.
Then finally, a low voice from beneath the visor.
“I’m sorry…. You really don’t deserve this.”
The words should’ve comforted you but instead they only made your chest tighten harder. Deep down, you couldn’t tell if he actually meant them.
Hunter carried you through the front door and straight to the bedroom, lowering you carefully onto the edge of the bed. Your entire body still trembled from the adrenaline crash, vision blurry, hands clenched tightly in your lap as you stared down at the floor. You couldn’t even look at him.
“I shouldn’t have panicked…” you whisper weakly. “It really wasn’t even that bad.”
“Stop.”
The word cuts through the room instantly. Hunter steps closer, looming over you now.
“You know I can tell when you lie.”
You swallow hard.
“I can tell when you’re scared from a mile away.”
His gloved hand comes up slowly, tilting your chin toward him despite your resistance. The black visor stares directly into you, impossibly unreadable.
Then quieter he adds:
“I can tell your every breath apart.”
Your throat tightens immediately. A tear slips down your cheek before you can stop it.
Hunter exhales softly at the sight.
“Aww… sweetheart,” he murmurs, thumb brushing beneath your eye. “Don’t cry.”
The gentleness in his voice almost makes it worse. Because there’s guilt there, real guilt, but underneath it, something else too.
Something hungry.
His hand slides slowly down your throat, fingers spreading over your pulse while he listens to the frantic rhythm beneath your skin. You feel him pause there for a second too long.
Like he enjoys it. Like he hates that he enjoys it.
Then suddenly, his other hand reaches up to his helmet, pulling it off. And for a second, everything stops.
Tired eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that makes your stomach twist. He seems softer without the helmet, but not enough for you to stop being scared.
Hunter leans down slowly before you can think too hard about it and kisses you. The second his mouth touches yours, your breath catches.
And he notices immediately.
You feel it in the way he exhales against your lips. In the way his grip tightens slightly at your jaw. Like your fear physically affects him.
The kiss deepens, slow and consuming, and every shaky breath you let out only seems to make him lose more control. A low sound rumbles in his chest when you tremble beneath him, his forehead briefly pressing against yours like he’s trying to compose himself.
But he doesn’t stop.
You barely notice the movement at first, only the quiet metallic sound of a blade being pulled out. Then suddenly, something cool brushes against your neck.
Your entire body tenses instantly and Hunter’s eyes darken at the reaction.
“Easy…” he murmurs against your mouth, though his own breathing has gone heavier now too.
The knife barely grazes your skin as he tilts your head back carefully, just enough to make panic bloom hot beneath your ribs again. Another unsteady breath escapes you, directly against his lips, and Hunter closes his eyes for half a second like it nearly undoes him.
“There it is…” he whispers. “Just how I like it”
The blade drifts slowly beneath your jaw while he kisses you again, deeper this time, swallowing every trembling inhale you give him. His hand remains steady on your throat, thumb feeling your racing pulse the entire time.
That guilty little look still lingers in his eyes every time he pulls back to look at you. Like some part of him truly is sorry.
Just not enough to stop chasing the sound of your panicked breathing against his mouth.
You shove him away the second he lets his guard down.
For the first time all night, Hunter looks genuinely surprised, and you don’t waste the opportunity. You bolt off the bed, through the door, and straight into the darkness.
A slow grin pulls at the corner of his mouth. The thrill of the chase sparks to life instantly in his chest.
“That’s the spirit ,” he mutters under his breath.
He takes off after you, easily tracking every panicked breath and crashing footstep through the dark. He’s already gaining on you when bright headlights suddenly cut through the darkness ahead.
A black van screeches to a stop directly in your path. The side door flies open.
Before either of you can react, two masked Zabraks grab you and drag you inside. Your scream barely has time to leave your throat before the door slams shut again and the van tears down the road.
Hunter stops dead. For a moment he just stares after the disappearing taillights, completely frozen.
Then the rage hits. Hot, immediate, suffocating, followed closely by guilt.
Because you had been running from him, terrified. And while he was busy enjoying the chase, someone else had taken you right in front of him.
His jaw clenches so hard it aches.
“…No.”
The word leaves him in a low growl as he stares at the fresh tire tracks carved into the mud.
The Nightbrothers in that van have no idea what they’ve just done. Because now, Hunters chase is no longer just a hunt, but a reckoning.
Crosshair
mini summary: toxicbf!crosshair who never healed from his trauma, who still works for the empire, and is paranoid and keeps you locked up for your safety
You’ve been crying for days now. He hadn’t come to check on you either, and by this point you basically started believing he really had left you here to die, locked up in this apartment. The fear had gotten the best of you completely.
Curled up in the corner of the room, you silently cry into your arms, trembling, genuinely unable to believe this is happening to you. How could you have been so stupid? His name is literally Crosshair. You’ve watched people get shot right in front of you, and somehow the second he started acting like a good friend, you let your guard down.
It all comes crashing down at once, making you feel like a complete idiot.
The door unlocks. And there he is.
Tall, still in his gear this time, visor hiding his face. No reason to pretend anymore. He steps inside and locks the door behind him with a quiet click, there’s no point keeping up the act now.
Crosshair approaches slowly before crouching down in front of you. Even when you flinch at the movement, he still reaches out, gloved fingers brushing one of your tears away with unsettling gentleness.
“It’s been enough now, don’t you think?”
His voice is firm. Cold, almost. But the fear twisting inside your chest is so overwhelming you can’t even trust your own judgement anymore.
“Please… don’t…” The words barely leave your mouth before his hand settles against your shoulder, squeezing tightly.
“Hey,” he says quietly, leaning closer. “It’s still me, you know.”
You shake your head immediately, trying to pull away, but he only tightens his grip for a second, eyes locked onto yours through the visor. He hates this. Hates seeing you recoil from him like he’s some stranger.
Slowly, he reaches up and removes the helmet but somehow that’s worse.
Because now you can actually see him. See the exhaustion in his face, the irritation, the restraint barely holding together underneath it all. His hand slides from your shoulder up to your jaw, forcing you to look at him properly.
“You’re terrified of me,” he mutters, almost sounding offended by it.
“Aren’t I supposed to be?”
Something dark flickers across his expression at that.
For a long moment neither of you moves. The tension is unbearable, thick enough to choke on. Then suddenly his thumb presses against your cheek and he leans in closer, slow enough to give you time to pull away.
You should you really should. But instead you freeze when his forehead brushes against yours, his voice dropping low.
“I didn’t leave you.”
And before you can even process it, his mouth crashes against yours.
It’s not soft, not cruel either. Just heavy, desperate, almost angry in the way he kisses you, like he’s trying to force something through your panic and make you feel him there. Your hands instinctively shove at his chest, a weak attempt at resistance, but he barely budges.
Then he pulls back just enough for you to breathe, lips still hovering dangerously close to yours.
“See?” he murmurs. “Still me.”
The second he leans in diving into another kiss, the second his attention slips completely onto you, you move. The cuff snaps shut around his wrist with a sharp metallic click.
For a moment neither of you moves. Then his eyes slowly lower to the restraint.
“…Really?”
You don’t answer. Mostly because you’re already scrambling backwards across the mattress, clutching the cuff key so tightly your hand hurts. (you snatched the key from him the other day when he uncuffed you before leaving, i genuinely don’t know how, but you did)
Crosshair stares for a moment and then laughs. A short, disbelieving sound.
“You’ve been crying for three days,” he says. “And this is your plan?”
“Stay away from me.”
His expression immediately flattens. The humor disappears.
“Right.”
Only then do you realize something important. You managed to cuff him. You did not manage to get the apartment key from him.
Your stomach drops.
And Crosshair notices immediately.
“Problem?” he asks.
You glare at him. And he just raises an eyebrow.
“The key’s still on me.”
“You’re lying.”
“Check if you want.”
You definitely do not want to. The realization slowly settles over both of you. Neither of you is going anywhere tonight.
You’re trapped in the apartment. And Crosshair is trapped on the one bed in there. ;D
Tech
How is he here? He knows where I live?? He records me? How does he know what I read? Is he always watching? How much of me has he seen?
The questions crash through your mind all at once, each one louder than the last. Your breathing grows shorter. Faster. You can’t tell anymore whether your heart is racing because of his hand that’s still in your pants or is it because you’re genuinely on the verge of a panic attack.
Nothing about this makes sense.
Tech’s mouth isn’t helping; still against yours, lingering, kissing you tightly, not backing away, and you just can not get yourself to breathe properly. Suddenly the room feels too small. Too warm. You can’t get enough air. It feels as if the walls are about to collapse onto you.
And just as you genuinely feel like you’re at your limits, Tech stops. He pulls back just enough to study your face through his goggles.
“Your heart rate has increased significantly.”
The concern in his voice is real. You look at him and feel that same strange warmth you always do when you think of him, but this time it can’t cut through the panic building inside your chest. Your breaths become shallow. A tear gathers in the corner of your eye.
At that, Techs entire demeanor changes. His attention now completely onto your distressed face. Removing his hand carefully from between your thighs, he now just gently cups your face pulling you closer. Leaning in, pressing his lips against your gasps, he leaves a soft, lingering kiss. And then another even slower one. And another follows. Despite your chest going up and down violently against him, he stays calm, with those soft eyes locked onto you.
Your panic doesn’t frighten him. Doesn’t overwhelm him. If anything, he seems strangely prepared for it.
“Don’t panic,” he murmurs quietly between kisses. “Breathe with me.”
And you try. You really try. But your body just wont listen.
You focus on his voice, on the steady rhythm of his breathing, but the tears come anyway. One slips down your cheek. Then another.
Tech watches them silently. He knows he’s the reason for this. Knows he should probably feel guilty.
Knows something about this situation has gone terribly wrong. But he just can’t quite figure it out. He does not know how to solve it, and in a way, he cant help but take advantage of it either. He knows he should have backed away the moment you panicked, should have given you space, should have explained himself. Instead, he stayed, watching you, touching you, using the fact that he knows of your obsession over him as an excuse for it too.
It consumes him, being this close to you finally, after all those hours of recording you, watching you from behind a screen. There was a fair amount of comfort in that too, the safety of it, the consistency of it, but this, this is something else entirely.
Seeing you this emotional up close makes something inside his chest tighten. The way you feel everything so vividly, so openly, it almost seems impossible to him. And now, even through your tears, you’re looking directly at him as if he alone can somehow make thinhs better.
Tech has spent his entire life fixing things. The realization that he has absolutely no idea how to fix you is almost unbearable. And as he wipes another tear from your cheek, something twists painfully inside his chest.
As he holds you there, talking you through it, your breathing gradually evens out. The tears, however, just keep coming. At this point, it feels impossible to stop them.
“Uhh, sorry,” you mumble, sniffling.
“There is nothing to apologize for,” Tech replies immediately.
He gives your shoulders a firm pat before getting to his feet. You watch through blurry eyes as he slowly circles the room, stopping by your desk. He opens your laptop and turns it towards your bed.
“Keep it there for me, just tonight” he says, casually glancing to your webcam. “I do not think you should be alone after all of this.”
Before you can even think of an answer, he continues.
“I will be more comfortable as well, knowing that you are alright.”
And not long after that, he simply leaves.
*
The moment your front doors close behind him, his pace quickens. He’s practically rushing home now, hands shoved into his pockets, shoulders tense, head ducked low. He feels like he’s done something terrible.
A thousand thoughts flash through his mind.
He should have explained something. Anything. If nothing else, enough to keep you from closing the laptop again. If you knew how important it was that he recorded you, then you never would have closed it in the first place. Simple as that.
At least, that’s what he tells himself.
The moment hes home, he immediately reaches for his desk, his movements almost robotic. Face completely blank as he logs in and connects to your webcam, barely even looking at the keypad.
He doesn’t show it, but a deep sigh of relief leaves him the second your room appears on his screen.You’re right there. Still on your bed. The laptop exactly where he left it.
Tech leans forward, resting his elbows against the desk l lowering his head against his knuckles, one of his legs bouncing restlessly under the desk as he watches you shift beneath your covers.
He can tell you’re still shaken up. Still a little freaked out.
But despite everything, despite the panic attack and everything that happened tonight, you listened to his request.
And somehow, that reassures him.
For the first time since leaving your apartment, some of the tension finally begins to leave his shoulders.
*
At some point, Tech must have dozed off at his desk.The sudden ringing of his comlink jolts him awake. For a brief moment he’s disoriented, blinking at the screen in front of him before realizing it’s an incoming call. From you.
His gaze flickers to your webcam feed instinctively before he accepts.
“Hello?”
“Hey.” You give a small, awkward wave toward your laptop camera.
Tech straightens in his chair immediately.
.“Is everything alright?”
“Yeah, yeah.” You hesitate. “I was just thinking…Maybe I could close the laptop?”
His brows pull together in confusion.
“And we could just… sleep on the call together instead?”
For a moment, Tech says nothing. The suggestion catches him completely off guard.
“I mean, only if you want to,” you add quickly. “I just really dont wanna be alone right now, this whole camera thing, feels a bit one sided..”
Something twists uncomfortably in his stomach. After everything that happened tonight, he feels as though he owes you at least this much.
“Very well,” he says quietly. “If that would make you more comfortable.”
The relief on your face is immediate. Tech finds himself staring at it for a second longer than necessary before shutting his screen off.
A few moments later, Tech settles into his bed, placing the comlink carefully on the pillow beside him. His eyes remain fixed on it. Logically, there is nothing to look at. The call is voice only.
Yet he finds himself glancing at the screen every few seconds anyway, as though he might somehow catch a glimpse of you.
He hadn’t expected to enjoy this.
The two of you talk quietly for a while after that. About nothing in particular. Just whatever comes to mind. Eventually your words start blending together, growing slower and sleepier with each passing minute.
A comfortable silence settles between you. Then Tech’s voice breaks it.
“…I am sorry if I frightened you earlier.”
For a moment, you aren’t entirely sure what he means. Then you remember. The panic attack. Everything.
“Oh.”
You pull your blanket a little closer. “It’s okay..”
“It is not, actually.”
His answer comes so quickly and firmly.
“I did not intend for that to happen.”
You roll onto your side, holding the comlink a little closer.
“I know.”
Silence falls again.
“Hey, Tech?”
“Hm?”
“I think…we should try that thing again someday.”…..“The thing I read on tumblr.”
For a moment he completely forgets how to speak. Heat rushes straight to his face.
“Oh.”
A sleepy laugh escapes you. “Yeah. That.”
Tech clears his throat. “…Affirmative.”
“…Affirmative?” you mumble.
“Correct.”
You laugh softly. “Youre such a dork”
Tech stares up at the ceiling.
“…That assessment is irrelevant.”
By the time he comes up with something better to say, your breathing has already evened out on the other end. Asleep.
Tech lets out a quiet sigh and rubs a hand over his face.
Affirmative. Really?
continue reading, part 3 - here
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