My Idea Of A Geralt Fic Would Be That He Somehow Traveled To Our Modern World And The Fem!reader Finds

My idea of a geralt fic would be that he somehow traveled to our modern world and the fem!reader finds him hurt and wants to help him. She happens to be a doctor. but also cant help but be attractive to him:)

I haven't written a Geralt fanfic yet, but I want to (so badly!!!) so I'm kind of training myself before writing my first full-length Geralt fanfiction. Right now I can only give you a (longish) drabble but I hope you'll like it.

Warning: injuries, implied smut

Suspension of disbelief (more than usually) is advised

You blink fast, waiting for the hallucination to end, but the thing doesn't move. It just stands there, a couple of feet from the curve of the road where you'd slammed the break of your jeep.

It looks like a man but he is huge and his eyes reflect your headlights like the eerie eyes of animals. You're wondering if the other pairs of glinting eyes are the figments of your imagination just like... is that a sword on his back?

"I am not a knight", he replies distractedly in an incredibly deep, gravely voice. Okay, weirdo. "And I'm fine", he adds but his words are slurred and when he tries to take a step, his gait is wobbly.

You slowly open your car's door, get out and carefully ask, "are you hurt, sir?" You saw the blood on his forearm, gushing from a seemingly deep wound and you also spotted blood on the shoulder of his dirty shirt.

"Sir, you seem injured. I'm a doctor, let me help you" you say to him, fear and your sense of duty battling in you. But of course you have to help him.

"A healer?" he asks, his voice getting weaker. You approach him carefully, and saw his eyes are in fact amber coloured, like a those of a big cat, and his face is harsh but handsome, his jaw lines sharp, long pale hair dirty and bloody.

You talk to him the whole time while you help the strange man in the back seat of your car and you carefully drive to your cabin.

Just after you help him lay down on your couch, he passes out, giving you an opportunity to examine his injuries undisturbed.

You button down his black shirt, manage to pull it from his limp upper body and throw it on the floor next to his sword and a belt containing curious little bottles of liquids.

You reveal an enormously wide and muscular torso peppered with dark chest hair and full of botched scars.

"What a sloppy work" you frown as you run your fingers through an especially angry looking scar. "Such a shame for this body", you muse, admiring his physique.

You touch the medal on his chest, an embossed silver circle with the profile of a wolf on it. As your fingers idly circle the edge of the medal, an image of a wolf with pale white fur appears in your thoughts, looking at you with hunger in its amber eyes, growling, showing you its impressive fangs.

You check his pulse and you’re shocked discover that his heartbeat is extraordinary slow. Who and what is this man?

There is a stab wound on his shoulder. It's not that serious but needs cleaning and stitches. You quickly take care of his injuries.

When you're done, you go to the tiny kitchen nook, take a beer from the fridge, pop it and sit on the rug between the couch and the small fireplace in which you've just kindled a tiny fire.

As you’re sipping the brew, you’re wondering whether this is another cosplayer who got lost in the woods during daytime. Or maybe he played swordfight with his buddies for a photoshoot, got injured and the others bolted, fearing being arrested.

But he looks so serious, so battered, so... He somehow looks both young and old. Something about him is so ageless. Based on his features and physique you'd say he's 40 years old, tops. He looks like a younger veteran.

You sit up on your knees and lean closer to examine his face. You carefully tug the base of a strand of white hair at his hairline. It's not a wig. Curious.

You pull up the edge of his upper lip with the pad of your index finger and see that his canines are a tad longer and pointier than the average (which of course sends little currents of excitement to your core - stupid instincts) but they are not unnatural. Speaking of which...

You touch one of his eyelids, pull it up carefully, and you frown when you don't see the telltale sign of contact lens just outside the edge of his amber iris.

You jump a little when the wolf eye suddenly focuses on you, and a hand shoots out, grabbing your hand that touched his face. His hand is so strong and warm.

"Where am I?" he rasps. "In my cabin," you reply, "I took care of your injuries. You are fine but you need rest."

"Hmm" he grunts, and the sound makes your skin tingle.

"What are you?" you ask curiously.

"I'm a witcher."

"Is that like a wicca thing for dudes?" you ask amused, eyeing the little potionlike bottles.

"Don't know what that is. Are you a mage?" he asks back, amber eyes roaming your face, making you giggly. Oh, come on, pull yourself together!

"A what?" you laugh.

"There are so many things here that must be of magical origin", he looked around, eyeing the few modern equipments of the small space. “There is magic in the air” he grunts.

"What is your name?" you asked, deciding to remain alert with this weirdo, but assume this night can't get any more absurd.

"Geralt."

You tell him your name, and ask him, "do you live in the woods, Geralt?"

"More or less", he replies. "I'm a hunter."

"A hunter..." you repeat his words, touching his nose, his cheek and his jawline with your tender fingers. It was so long ago that you touched a man this intimately. And Geralt was so handsome, so rugged, so huge. He looked like a man who knows his way around a woman's body, weird wicca dude or not. 

Oh shit, you think as you realize that you are getting aroused. 

Geralt’s nostrils flare and he takes a deep breath, holding your gaze trapped. You feel as though he has some power over your body. As if he can command it.

You involuntarily lean close to his face and plant a small kiss on his lips. He doesn't let you pull away, instead he cups your nape with his huge hand and kisses you back, his tongue pushing in your mouth, giving you the faint taste of rosemary and something inexplicably arousing.

When you break the kiss to get some air in your fluttering lungs, he grabs your hips and pulls you up on the couch on top of him.

"Geralt, you are injured!" you exclaim, trying to squirm away, not wanting to hurt him.

His hands hold your hips like two iron clamps, even the hand of his injured arm, and you feel a growing bulge under your core as he slightly shifts his pelvis. Your breath hitches.

He gives you an amused smile that forms delicious dimples on his masculine cheeks and as he pulls your mouth back down on his, he says

"Don't worry, little healer. I'm more than fine."

Let me know if the picture is yours so I can tag you for credits

Hey, I really enjoy your writing and what you do! Would you mind doing an enemies to lovers hc for TBB?

Aloha!

This topic is so loved in this house. Let's get some glimpses... Let's gooo!

PS: I think more detailed One-Shots would have been probably better, but I did the best I could with these HCs 😅

The Bad Batch x Reader HCs - Enemies To Lovers

Warnings: Partly Suggestive/Cat And Mouse Games/Slightly Angsty

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Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

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>Master List<

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Hunter

You may be opponents, but the tension between you is not just hostile, that's for sure.

He is an excellent opponent. Hunter is fast, he is skilled, his only weakness is that he tries not to hurt you every time. If he were more ruthless, he would have defeated you long ago. The encounters with him are exciting, they are like a kind of intoxication you can't resist.

You almost can't imagine to not let this cat and mouse game between you take place anymore. You could have taken him out from a distance more than once, and he could probably do the same the other way around. But something keeps you both from putting an end to it.

Sometimes it's unclear who's actually the hunter and who's the hunted, but that doesn't matter, both are exciting, you enjoy each of these encounters.

Hunter's senses have long perceived that your cat and mouse game does not leave you untouched, and your rapid pulse has nothing to do with fear. Even if this confuses him at first, he feels this magnetism as well. With every encounter, every chase, it's there again, his senses pick up everything, your pulse, your excitement, your hormones. Of course, he teases you with it, and you react to it defiantly at first, as expected. He's mocking you, "You're really excited. Are you excited to see me again?" You growl, "Keep dreaming, clone." Hunter has an unflinching gleam in his eye, you always feel like he knows exactly what's going on inside you. You want to resist, but you quickly realize that this resistance is beginning to crumble. "You can't hide from me". You jump out of your cover and shout, "Then I'll attack." Of course, he already knew where you were, fending off your attack with ease and pinning you between himself and a wall of a house. You squirm in his grip, but the heat between you only increases, your pulse quickens even more.

"Gotcha," he says in a deep voice with a triumphant smile. Part of you wants to kick the smile off his face, another wants to kiss those lips. He takes the decision from you quite unexpectedly. The kiss is wild, and the next moment you are tugging at each other's clothes, not in a fight, but to get even closer to the other.

Echo

He's probably the fairest opponent you've ever had, but he's also smart. As long as you stay fair in the fight, so is Echo. "I really don't want to hurt you if I don't have to," he says seriously when he has you deadlocked. "Don't worry, I won't make it that easy for you," you snort, getting ready to fight. He eyes you and you him, both of you tense. It's not the first time you've screwed up his game, beating him to the punch and snatching information or important items from under his nose. But this time, you don't seem to be getting away from him so easily. "Dead end," Echo says dryly. You stare at him angrily. "Captain Obvious," you grumble. He sighs and says, "I can't let you escape this time, I need those files you stole." "Let me get away? You've never let me escape before, I've escaped you."

Echo rolls his eyes. "Sure." Outraged, you clench your hands into fists. Echo suddenly smirks. "You look cute when you're angry". "Thanks...wait what?- I know, I mean.... Shut up!" Echo raises his brows in amusement, very slowly he moves closer. You consider backing away, but you're far too intrigued by that expression on his face. He seems so different than he usually does, not as grim. As he stands in front of you, he finally asks, "If you don't want to give me the files, how about a date?" You catch yourself actually thinking about it, feeling flattered. But then your eyes narrow. "That's an honest question," Echo says when he sees your reaction. "Really?" He nods with a small smile and puts his blaster away. "Neutral territory, truce?" he asks. Uncertain, you say, "Um, okay." The corner of his mouth twitches up again as he says, "You won't regret it."

Wrecker

Even as an opponent, he's playful, but he's also damn strong, and you have to be pretty damn careful. One blow can knock you out or even break your skull, even if he doesn't necessarily mean to. But in the heat of battle, that can happen. You're faster than him, that's your advantage. But he's smarter than you think at first. Every now and again, you narrowly escape your encounters. "Hey, you want to play hide and seek again?" the giant rumbles with a laugh. You sigh and shake your head. "Not today, big guy," you say, throwing him a kissy hand and deftly dodging as he tries to reach for you. "Oh come on, don't be a killjoy!" You laugh and hastily climb onto a low little house nearby. You look down and see him standing there, down in the alley. Wrecker looks up at you, disappointed yet expectant.

You want to make a cool exit and wink at him with a casual salute, but as you turn around, something breaks loose from the edge of the roof you're standing on. From one second to the next, you suddenly find yourself in free fall. Your heart skips a beat, you expect to land hard on the ground at any moment. But that doesn't happen. Wrecker catches you. He looks at you with concern, you in turn look up at his face in complete surprise, still lying in his arms. "Are you all right? Did you hurt yourself?" he asks quietly. Just as quietly, you reply, "Just got a fright." For a long time you just stare at each other, your eyes wandering back and forth, sometimes meeting, only to dodge again. At some point, however, you say quietly, "You do realize that we're actually enemies?" Wrecker snorts softly, then shrugs his shoulder and carefully eases you to your feet. "Nobody has to know that we don't actually kill each other. I don't like us being enemies, but I do like our cat and mouse games," he finally says with a smirk. You laugh softly and ask, "Should I hide again?" His smirk turns into a grin.

Tech

You've met many times before. But never has he seen your face, or much of you for that matter, you usually attack from cover, from the shadows. Today is no different. He's ahead of you at the finish line, ahead of you at the computer with the important data. He doesn't hear you coming. When you pull his legs away, he makes a surprised, startled sound, has to drop the holopad he's using to download the data to catch himself and not land on his face. He lost his helmet on the way when you shot at him from cover. He hasn't really laid eyes on you yet and is already impressed and annoyed by you, to the same degree. You deftly tied his legs together in a prepared sling with one quick move and jump over him, grabbing the holopad as you go. Somehow he's cute, the lanky, tall guy with the goggles. "Hey! That's mine!" he indignantly says, reaching for you but narrowly missing. You take off your helmet briefly to give him a cheeky wink, at which moment he seems to freeze for a second, staring at you as if he's seen a ghost or some other kind of special phenomenon.

„What's wrong? Having a stroke?“

For the first time in his life, Tech probably speaks without thinking as he says, "I didn't expect you to be pretty". When he realizes what he said, and you do too, you stare at each other, blinking. You sigh softly, crouching down at a safe distance from him, he's still on the ground, propped up on his forearms, looking at you, part critical, part curious, part confused. "And I thought you were smarter," you say dryly. He frowns, indignation clear in his expression. "I'm probably the smartest person you'll ever meet". You smirk at his reaction and say, "Then I guess we define that word in different ways." A noise distracts you, just a very brief moment, but obviously long enough for Tech to get the upper hand. He has freed himself from the sling and leaps forward, at the same moment that you look in his direction, startled. He rams you backwards from your crouch onto your back and is upon you. Your heart is beating up to your throat, but you calmly say, "Okay, handsome, looks like I underestimated you."

Tech blinks several times, having to classify and digest the word 'handsome'. "I'll take the holopad back from you". "You're welcome to try," you say with a smile. "And then I will go my way" You sigh softly, you know you should fight, not shy away from hurting him. But something inside you resists. Tech's gaze wanders down your face, again and again. "But I'd like to see you again." That is new. You say softly, "We're opposites, enemies, actually." "Do we have to be?" he asks back promptly. You blink, unsure, is it that easy? Is it that simple? "We have different clients," you note.

"So? We could go from enemies to a friendly rivalry after all. That would give us room to do other things." You laugh softly, still beneath him, pinned to the ground by him. "Other things?" you ask, amused. Tech's ears and cheeks flush as he says, "Well, maybe romance". You laugh and feel yourself getting all warm. He realizes that this approach is probably far too direct and awkward, but why waste time. "A romance? Well you have big plans" He shrugs and stays serious, ears and cheeks still flushed, "Why not, life is short, let's make the best of it" You blink in surprise and after another breath you say softly, "Okay. I'd be willing to give it a try" The smile on his face is undeniably adorable.

Crosshair

You already know that he is an excellent shooter and tends to use live ammunition rather than stun ammunition. So the first thing you do is concentrate on stealing his gun or making it useless in some way. You hear him swear as you grab his Firepunsher from your position in the vent and pull it off his back. He turns around so fast and jumps up, almost getting a grip on the weapon, you have to hastily throw yourself backwards, back into the ventilation shaft. You let out a startled curse as suddenly his hands grab the edge of the vent. You know you should react quickly, strike at his fingers, but you hesitate, and you don't really know why yourself at the moment. He pulls himself up and shortly after you see his Angry Face appear in the opening of the ventilation shaft. "You lousy little womprat," he growls as he pulls himself into the shaft. You want to aim at him, but the Firepunsher is far too long to turn it around in the shaft.

He grabs your ankle and pulls you out of the shaft with a jerk as he drops back out. You fall out of the shaft with your weapon and land hard on the floor in the hallway below. Your helmet slides off your head and rolls to the side. "Fuck!" you curse, snarling, and go to stand up, but there's the barrel of the Firepunsher in front of your nose. You curse again, much quieter this time, "Fuck..." You look past the barrel, up into the Sniper's angry face. You wonder why he hasn't pulled the trigger yet. You hold still, even trying to breathe shallowly, as if you fear any movement on your part might tempt his trigger finger. "That's the last time you mess up a mission for me," he says cuttingly. You don't quite know what to do or say, so you keep silent and stare at him as he stares back. This is the first time you've been able to get a good look at his face. Striking, masculine, serious, there is something bold in his golden brown eyes. Too bad you're playing on different sides, he's a looker.

After what feels like an eternity, you open your mouth. "Okay. So where do we go from here?" He seems to take a deep breath, as he answers he sounds annoyed, "Haven't decided yet." You try a little smirk and ask, "So what's the choice?" Crosshair clicks his tongue and says, "I kill you here and now and finish the mission and never be bothered by you again. Or I take away all your weapons, tie you up, finish the mission, and take the risk that you'll get on my nerves again someday." You ask perkily, "No third option?" His head tilts to the side barely noticeably, then he asks, "What do you have in mind?" You cautiously venture up on your elbows and look at him slyly, "I saw you staring at my lips. You're wondering how they feel, how they taste." He blinks several times. "You're full of shit," he growls.

You smile unperturbed. But when he suddenly holsters the gun and pulls you to your feet by your collar, you make a startled sound that is smothered by his lips. At first, you are far too surprised to react, but only for the length of a heartbeat or two. Then you return the kiss. It's heated, wild, sloppy all at once, and undeniably glorious. When he suddenly lets go of you, you stumble backward, nearly falling, your knees unexpectedly weak. He looks at you, a smug smirk on his face. "Not too bad," he says dryly. "Well," you say a little beside yourself, "Right back at you." After another moment of silence, he asks, "You're still going to try and screw up this mission for me, aren't you?" In response, you merely grin. He sighs and finally says with a barely noticeable smile, "Go on, I'll even give you a little headstart, but when I get my hands on you again, I want more than a kiss. Deal?" You get hot and almost swallow your tongue, but you grin back and nod. "Deal."

@rintheemolion

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@1vlouds

Hello there! May I ask for a big favor? Could you write about Tech, after THE FALL, you know? About how he survived, maybe badly hurt, and how Hemlock wants to experiment on him. But female reader is an assistant scientist or nurse working there, and they fall in love, and she frees him?

Aloha!

Sorry for the late (and very long) response! Okay, this is something I can get behind. Hold on, I got you.

Tech x Fem!Reader One-shot - AFTER THE FALL

Warnings: ANGST/Hurt/Injured Tech/Tension/Fluff/Comfort

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Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

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First, euphoria floods him as he is slowed down more or less gently by the branches of one of the huge trees. But then he hits a thicker branch that breaks several of his ribs. Tech can't breathe for a moment, falling further, he slows down as he continues to fall through a tangle of branches. He loses his helmet, the branches whip him in the face, leaving bloody bruises. Then he loses his goggles. His hands automatically shielding his face as best he can. He can barely see, but he knows the ground is getting closer. The impact is hard, not fatal thanks to the tree, but extremely painful nonetheless. His right shin breaks, the sound unnaturally loud, and the pain travels through his body like a lightning strike, sharp and violent. The impact on the broken ribs does the rest. At first, his breath catches and his voice gets stuck in his throat. But finally a scream comes across his lips, shortly followed by a groan, his breath heavy with pain. But not only pain, also panic is spreading. He is badly injured, defenseless, in the middle of a forest full of alien flora and fauna and the Imperials who will surely search for his corpse soon and if he was unlucky, they would find one too. Tech lost his weapons in the fall, his visual aid, helmet and probably a few other things. For a moment, he wishes he had just died quickly, cursing the tree that gave him false hope only to take it away.

His fingers feel for the com on his wrist, unsuccessfully. He pulls off his glove with his teeth to feel for it more effectively. His fingers slide to the com again. Broken. "Kriffin hells," Tech groans in pain. It doesn't matter that he's still alive, without a com, with his injuries, without his goggles, in the middle of nowhere, his chances of survival are practically non-existent. He can only see his surroundings dimly, blurred outlines, blurred colors. The pain is bad enough to make him nauseous. Tech tries to breathe against the pain and rummages blindly with his fingers in his remaining belt pouches for the emergency painkiller. Some of the pouches are torn from his belt, and the belt itself is also hanging by a thread. He finds what he is looking for, hastily injects himself in the leg. The drug works quickly, the pain slowly subsides. Tech allows himself to breathe for a moment. The pain may be temporarily relieved, but his situation has not changed. He is afraid, for the first time in his life he is really frightened. It's a more than uncomfortable feeling. He is alone, helpless, his brothers think he is dead. Tech feels the wind brush across his damp face, and he realizes he's crying. "Pull yourself together, Tech, you're a soldier, you're smart, you'll find a way out," he says to himself, trying desperately to believe his own words.

But he can hardly move despite painkillers, he doesn't even know where to go, can't see his surroundings properly. Tech tries to crawl, but he repeatedly has to give up and lie down. The hours pass and the painkiller begins to wear off. The pain slowly creeps back into his body, steadily, increasing. On impulse, he calls Hunter's name, the big brother who always bailed him out, even as a cadet. He knows no one can hear him, but it's a helpless, automatic impulse. At some point he begins to drift, he's not sure if he's just tired, if he's dying, or just passing out, Tech just knows that his senses are fading, little by little, slowly enveloping him in darkness.

Lights, echoing voices, the smell of disinfectants, are the first things that reach Tech's senses as he slowly regains consciousness. The ground on which he lies is cool, hard. He can't immediately make out the words being spoken around him, he only understands snatches of them. "... the wounds will heal.... much potential.... take good care of him.... this will be an interesting project" Slowly he feels parts of his body again. The pain is just dull now, like an echo. Tech feels sluggish and suspects that he has been given strong painkillers. It is relatively cool in the room, he feels that all his equipment has been taken from him. The fabric on his skin is not that of his blacks, he has been clothed. He blinks several times, noticing that his vision is clearer. Tech wants to feel his face to see what visual aid he has been given, but he cannot lift his arms, there is resistance. He has been strapped to the surface on which he is lying. A figure appears next to him, his gaze clears, and he looks into the face of a woman, he finds her pretty, and somehow she seems familiar to him, but he doesn't immediately know why.

A man's voice snaps him out of his thoughts.

"You are not to make small talk with the project, only inject the serum".

Startled, you look up and into the face of Doctor Hemlock. His blue eyes are cold, despite the implied smile on his lips.

"Do what I told you and run some scans, then I need you in my office".

"Yes, Doctor," you say quietly, opening the small case of injections.

Hemlock looks at Tech, their eyes meeting.

"We'll see if we can't improve you," he says to the restrained Tech.

"Enhance?" the latter asks in alarm.

"A serum used for genetic manipulation, it should theoretically unlock more hidden abilities," is the brief explanation he receives, "I'm not going to lie, this whole thing could get very uncomfortable, painful, but a seasoned soldier can take a beating, can't he?"

With those words, Hemlock turns away.

Tech watches Hemlock disappear again, then his gaze twitches back and forth between you and the small case.

"This is a dangerous experiment," Tech says quietly, his tone clearly resonating with his unease, "genetic manipulation is a delicate thing."

"I know," you say quietly, taking one of the injections from the case.

Tech begins to struggle against the restraints, whereupon two Stormtroopers he hadn't noticed before start to stir. You pause and say to the men, "He's strapped down, no danger of escape, and no danger to me. There are other, more dangerous projects you should be monitoring."

The men look at each other, finally one says, "Fine by me. But call us if he gives you any trouble"

You nod curtly and wait for the troopers to leave the room. Tech is still writhing in his restraints on the table, but can barely move a millimeter.

"Calm down, Tech," you say gently.

He sees you coming closer with the injection and his breathing quickens, panicked.

"Now listen to me carefully," you say seriously, "I've switched injections. This room is video monitored, but without audio. So try to keep a low profile"

Tech blinks several times. The tone in your voice, conspiratorial, serious but gentle. He's torn between hope, fear and doubt.

"I switched out the injections. This is just saline and some food coloring to make it look just like the serum. Nothing at all will happen to you from this injection."

Tech frowns critically and says stubbornly, "Why should I believe you?"

You sigh softly and say, "I know it doesn't inspire confidence that I'm working with Hemlock. I just want to take away your fear, you'll see that nothing will happen to you from the injections."

"If you really want to help me, free me," Tech says shakily.

" This is not something I can do so easily-"

"Then why should I believe that nonsense!" he interrupts you angrily.

You push up his sleeve, feeling his muscles tense. He is still squirming uselessly in the buckles with which he is tied to the stretcher.

"Be reasonable, Tech, you're too badly hurt to try to escape, the baccta will take a few hours before you can walk again without assistance. That being said, this facility is well secured. Lots of troopers, droids, alarm system, lockdown mechanisms. You wouldn't get far, we need a plan first. Crosshair and I have been working on it for a few days. I just hope I can fool Hemlock with the serum long enough to get it done."

Tech's eyes grow wide, "You talked to Crosshair?"

You nod and say, "Daily, since he got here."

"How is he?"

"Better than you at the moment, even though he provoked Hemlock several times in the beginning, and he was often disciplined"

"Disciplined?" asks Tech brightly.

"Torture by electric shocks. Hemlock calls that corrective education."

Tech grits his teeth, then looks at you questioningly, "So you're helping him too. Why are you helping us anyway?"

You put the needle in place and Tech flinches briefly as he feels the sting.

"Because what's happening here isn't right. There are a lot of disobedient clones here, clones who have defied orders and Order 66. You guys have been through more than enough already. At some point, this nightmare has to stop. I only came here with Hemlock because I thought we could make a difference for the clones. But I soon found out that Hemlock had other interests and missions. So at first I started to ease the circumstances for the patients as much as I could. And little by little I managed to trick Hemlock into replacing the serum and so on. But it's only a matter of time before he figures it out. The doctor is anything but stupid, at the moment he's just very busy, with many… projects, probably the only reason why he hasn't caught me yet."

Tech blinks several times. The injection is over; at the moment, he feels nothing.

"You're taking a big risk," he says quietly.

You nod nervously and say, "I know if I get caught there will be no punishment, only execution."

The days pass, Tech's wounds heal, and you regularly send messages back and forth between the two brothers. You secretly pass on plans and ideas. But something is missing. The guys need floor plans, accurate data on troop movements around the compound, and information on all security and surveillance systems.

Getting this information is damn dangerous for you, but still you do it, little by little, skillfully, using the access codes of other employees among others. For days on end, you're under a constant flow of adrenaline, always in danger of being discovered. But you've finally gathered everything that's needed, except weapons.

"I don't know how to get weapons, the medical staff doesn't have weapons, only the troopers, and they're unlikely to give me their weapons willingly, I'm not a fighter," you say dejectedly.

Crosshair growls softly, "I'll figure something out, you've already done more than enough".

You say quietly, "I've given Tech all the information, like I did you".

Crosshair wants to nod, but his head is strapped to the table as you give him the fake injection.

"Good," he mumbles softly.

His serious face softens a little when he sees your worried expression.

"Don't worry, it's up to me and Tech now. You did what you could. Maybe you should come with us."

You look at him in surprise.

"Come with you?"

Crosshair shows a barely noticeable smirk and says, "Yeah, sure. Tech would be very pleased. If I remember correctly, he had quite a crush on you back when you were working on Kamino."

You pause in your movement, surprised.

"What?"

Crosshair laughs softly, "Don't tell me you didn't notice. From the moment you started working in the infirmary, he regularly hurt himself on his tools or fell, which miraculously almost never happened to him before you showed up. I told him several times it would be easier to just ask for your com number, but our Tech was just too shy. He was very disappointed when you suddenly disappeared."

"I had been transferred to Coruscant, unfortunately," you say quietly, still intrigued, surprised, and flattered by the news. You liked Tech back then, too. He always told a lot of stories, he had whole stories to tell to every question you asked him.

Suddenly Crosshair's expression changes, his eyes shift to the right, looking behind you. You hear the typical sound of troopers in gear.

"Hemlock wants to see you, it's urgent," growls one of the two troopers who have entered the room. You turn around and see that both men have their weapons at the ready.

"But I'm still not-"

"Right now," the second interrupts you.

Panic rises in you, burning hot and freezing cold at the same time. He must have figured out what you were doing, you think nervously. Crosshair thinks the same thing and automatically braces himself against the restraints, whereupon one of the troopers smacks him in the forehead.

You sit in the chair opposite Hemlock, at his desk. The desk is so gigantic that you both seem quite small next to it. Behind him a huge panoramic window, forest, mountains and clouds can be seen.

You have your hands folded in your lap, nervously kneading your fingers.

Two troopers stand at the door in a guarded position. Hemlock in front of you is calm, he doesn't seem furiously angry as you expected. Not at all. He seems strangely composed, calm, collected. You are not sure what would have frightened you more. There was something strangely, ominously subliminal about this calm, something you couldn't directly grasp, but it was there. Like a monster waiting in ambush.

"I know what you've done," Hemlock says quietly, after an awkward, seemingly eternal period of silence.

"Doctor?" you ask cautiously, still clinging to the hope that you're here for different reasons than you think.

"Please don't insult my intelligence by pretending you don't know what I'm talking about."

You remain silent, not knowing what to say anyway.

After what feels like an eternity, you sigh, and somehow some of the tension that has clung to you for so long falls away.

You say indifferently, "I would say I'm sorry, but that would be a lie."

Hemlock laughs softly.

"I have to admit, you have more moxie in your bones than most troopers I know. You may not be a fighter in the usual sense, but girl, you have guts."

You blink, trying not to let on that you're confused at the moment and don't quite know where you stand.

Hemlock claps his hands a few times, making you frown critically.

"You need to use that grit more constructively!" he says, suddenly sounding excited.

You want to sound cool, to say something cheeky, to not mince words, but his demeanor elicits only a confused, "Huh?" from you.

"I know," Hemlock says indulgently, almost understanding, "You think you're doing something good here, for these men. But you're missing the big picture."

As he stands up and comes around the table, you automatically stand up as well, prompting the troopers to point their weapons at you, but Hemlock waves them off with a simple gesture and the men lower their weapons.

You back away a step as he walks toward you. Hemlock stops, reading your posture, your demeanor.

"You don't have to be afraid of me, I wasn't planning to hurt you," he says calmly and finally continues explaining, "Now this big picture I'm talking about is why we're all doing these projects. The reason why all these projects are necessary."

You shake your head and say, "Nothing justifies what is happening to these people here".

Hemlock raises his finger and corrects you, "Clones, my dear, clones, not people. Copies of a man, not even a particularly honorable one. Copies of a bounty hunter. But that's not the point. What I'm getting at is the big picture. The purpose of these experiments."

"Improved soldiers for the Empire"

Hemlock smiles.

"That's right, my dear, that's right. Better soldiers, for the protection of our Empire and all the people who live in it, for the protection of every single citizen. Yes, we are experiencing setbacks and some of the clones are suffering terrible agonies, but the end certainly justifies the means in this case"

You shake your head and say, "No it doesn't, it shouldn't."

Hemlock shrugs.

"Wait until your home world is attacked, and no adequate protection is in place, then I'm sure you'll think differently"

Hemlock walks slowly, leisurely up and down. His gait is supposed to make you think he is relaxed, sure of himself, but the fact that he is walking up and down at all already exposes his inner turmoil.

You watch him and finally ask, "Why so restless?"

Hemlock stops, turns back to you, and looks at you critically.

"I'm thinking about what to do with you. Basically, you sabotaged me and probably broke some other rules that I don't know about at the moment. Normally I wouldn't think twice about that, but you're a very good assistant, despite everything"

Your heart hammers nervously in your chest.

"So you won't have me executed?"

Hemlock clicks his tongue and shakes his head.

"No. But I need to make sure you don't do something so reckless again".

Distracted by an unusual flying Omicron shuttle you see through the panoramic window, you say something absent-mindedly.

"And what do you have in mind, Doctor?"

Before he can discuss what exactly he means by that, the power goes out, for a few seconds, then the emergency power comes on and a shrill alarm sounds. A metal shield covers the huge window, blocking your view of the shuttle.

Hemlock seems tense. He tries to contact someone, but the com systems don't work. Your pulse is racing, nervousness, excitement. You know this can only be a sign that Tech and Crosshair are on the run. The Omicron shuttle, must be their brothers.

It's a satisfaction to see Hemlock panic, trying to make contact with his men, trying to grasp the situation, figure out what's going on. But then he spins around, furious, and he sees the smile on your face before you can hide it.

The doctor reaches into a drawer at his desk and pulls out a blaster from it, pointing it at you.

"You! This is your doing, this has something to do with you and those clones from the 99 batch!"

You blink, suddenly back in fear mode. You're relatively sure, that blaster in his hand, isn't set to stun.

The sound of a plasma cutter distracts you both. Someone is cutting through the metal guard and glass on the paned window.

"What the hell-"

With a clang and a thump, the material comes loose and falls into the room, directly behind it the ramp of a shuttle and an armed Tech in full gear. You barely have time to react, or say anything. Tech stuns Hemlock and the troopers with quick, well-aimed shots, deftly puts the weapons away again, and finally reaches out his hand to you.

"What are you waiting for? Come here!" he calls to you.

Your heart pounds in your throat as you grab his hand, and he gently pulls you toward him and into the shuttle, closing the ramp immediately after. He gently but firmly pushes you into a seat and straps you in.

"Hold on tight, we're not safe yet".

As if his words were the cue, the shuttle suddenly comes under fire and Tech rushes back into the cockpit. Crosshair sits at the gun, across from you sits a giant who grins kindly at you, next to him a clone who has almost more prosthetics than body parts on his body, also with a smile on his face.

The evasive maneuvers are violent, daring, you are jolted back and forth in your seat. You know Tech is at the wheel, and he's one hell of a pilot. Hell of a good one. Your hands are clutched to the seat, you're getting hot and cold, your pulse is racing. It's like the worst, gnarliest roller coaster ride of your life. Tossed back and forth in your seatbelt.

Then, finally, the shuttle settles into a steady position, and you hear the typical gentle noise of hyperspace.

Tech comes back out of the cockpit and looks at you.

"Are you all right? You look a little light-headed," he says with concern, and unbuckles your seatbelt.

You're dizzy and reality hasn't quite gotten through to you yet, but you finally nod and say, "Sure, I'm fine."

"I guess she's not used to combat maneuvers," the giant says with a laugh.

Crosshair, climbing out of the gun seat, laughs softly, still wearing the suit from Hemlock's facility.

"Tech's maneuvers take some getting used to," he says, winking at you.

Tech is indignant, "My maneuvers are extremely effective and have saved us several times, including today"

You slowly stand up, but your wobbly knees shake, and you practically fall towards him.

With a "Woah", he catches you, with his arms around your hips, your hands braced on his breastplate.

You look up and as your eyes meet, Tech's ears flush red.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asks quietly.

In the background, Echo pushes the rest of the group into the cockpit to give you a small moment of privacy.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Crosshair still trying to look around the corner, but a hand on his collar pulls him away.

You blink and look at Tech again.

You laugh softly, nervously, his arms around your middle releasing a swarm of butterflies in your stomach. Almost automatically, your hands move to his shoulders.

"Sure, I'm fine. It's just like Crosshair said, I'm not used to this kind of flying. Impressive, I didn't think we'd escape."

Tech smirks flattered.

"Thank you for not leaving me behind," you say softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, whereupon his ears turn even redder.

Tech blinks several times, then smiles nervously and says, "You didn't think we'd leave without you, did you?"

You grin at each other.

Still smirking, Tech says, "This time I'm not letting you go without asking for your com number."

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

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@palliateclaw

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@extrahotpixels

@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

@malicemercy

@bebopsworld

@echos-girlfriend

@cpnt616

@dangraccoon

@jediknightjana

@pb-jellybeans

@antishadow2021

@sleepycreativewriter

@projectdreamwalker

@1vlouds

@starwarsnerd111

Call me crazy but I want to go back to the times when we kept our sexual fantasies about celebrities to ourselves and in our own heads instead of requesting tumblr mutuals to write RPF about them and sharing them for us all.

if you ship real people who actually exist in real life, you’re a fucking creep. no exceptions. yes this includes roleplay versions of those people that they put on “as characters”; if they’re still essentially playing themselves, if they haven’t come up with a separate character to play, it’s still extremely fucking creepy to ship them.

bad caf

relationships: crosshair x reader

masterlist

word count: 1700

warnings: medic reader (yes this is a warning im sorry its basic), injuries but its not super descriptive, fluff

summary: 2 idiots would rather not talk than admit their obvious feelings

author's note: sorry for the lack of posts. im trying to write more than i do but school is taking up most of my time. i have so many drafts that im trying to finish. hopefully more posts soon. i also want to start a series. thanks for reading :)

divider by saradika

Your feelings for Crosshair were confusing.

Well, maybe not yours, but figuring out how he felt was.

You knew how you felt. You liked him. You liked everything about him, although you would never admit it out loud to anyone. You didn’t know how he felt, though. Somedays you thought there was something there, but Crosshair was so quick to change moods that you could never really tell. He would do everything that would say that he felt something, the lingering touches, the small conversations that he wouldn’t have with anyone else other than you, but it was Crosshair. Nothing ever made sense with him.  

The day had started as it usually did. Crosshair wakes up before everyone else, not being able to sleep. He makes you caf. It’s the horrible kind, but somehow, he finds a way to make yours enjoyable. He leaves it on the shelf in your bunk, not bothering to wake you. The smell of it is what stirs you awake, only to find he had already left the room. This had been happening for several rotations. Always the same. You stumble out of your bunk, careful not to wake anyone else, and head to the refresher with the caf in hand. It was too early to already be thinking about your feelings for him.  

You sat down with him before anyone else was awake. This was your favorite part of the day. Crosshair was more vulnerable without his brothers around him. You both sat there drinking your caf. You tried to savor it just so you could have more time with him. Little did you know, he was doing the same thing.

“The caf is terrible.”

He laughs a little, something most people don’t see from him. It makes your heart swell.

“It always is, yet you still drink it.”

He was right. He didn’t know you only liked it because he made it.

You looked up at him and smiled. He smiled back. He rarely smiles. He has the cutest smile. Gods you have to stop thinking like that, but you can’t help it when he looks like that. For a moment, you thought he was finally going to say something about what was going on between you both.

Tech walked into the small room and just like that, the moment was over. It wasn’t Tech’s fault. You were probably just reading too far into it. Nothing was going on between you and Crosshair.

If you would’ve known the day would end with you being shot by a Separatist droid, you would’ve stayed in your bunk.

The mission couldn’t have gone any worse. There were more droids than expected. Tech was injured, which is why you ended up injured as well. Being a medic during a war meant taking risks to help others during a battle.

Crosshair didn’t care. He didn’t want you anywhere near the action. He wanted you to stay on the ship. But he knew the second Tech had gotten hurt, you would be there. Tech could handle himself, he always did even before you were there. He only had a cut, sure it was big, but he would have made it out just fine. Now you were laying here unconscious and there was nothing he could do. All because you made a stupid decision to help Tech. He felt horrible. He could only watch as Tech stitched your side.

Crosshair knew he had feelings for you. He hated it. It made him soft. Vulnerable. Weak. Things that he couldn’t afford to be during a war. You were their medic. It was wrong. But he couldn’t help it. The way you smiled, the way you treated him so gently, the way you matched his sarcasm. It made him melt. He loved it, all of it. And he hated that he did.

Something awoken in his head the moment he saw you unconscious. He knew Tech had given you something to knock you out, but he still felt guilty somehow. Like he should’ve been there to protect you. He decided in that moment that he couldn’t do this anymore. He would push away all feelings for you. It was changing him and he couldn’t have that. Not now, not when any of them could die at any moment. And especially not when you didn’t feel the same.

Crosshair was different after that day. He didn’t speak to you anymore, didn’t look at you, and definitely wouldn’t make you caf anymore. It had been months since your injury. You were physically fine, but the emotions were taking its toll. You missed his sarcastic remarks, you missed the way he would roll his eyes at you, you missed his laugh. You missed him. It wasn’t like he wasn’t there. He was physically there. You just couldn’t figure out why he shut you out. It hurt.

You and Wrecker were sitting in the cockpit. It was Wrecker’s watch, but you couldn’t sleep. It was nice to just sit with him and watch space as it flew past.

“What’s going on with you and Crosshair?”

Of course Wrecker would ask. He was your best friend. You just didn’t think anyone noticed anything was different.

“I’m not sure what you mean. Nothing’s going on,” you replied. You couldn’t tell him how you felt, especially not with the risk of anyone else hearing. It was stupid, you trusted Wrecker, but you couldn’t admit it if you can’t even find the courage to talk to Crosshair about it.

“You both aren’t talking to each other. And you seem sad.”

That was true. You were sad. You missed him so badly, even in just a friendly way.

“I promise there isn’t anything going on. You know how Crosshair is.”

That was also true. There was nothing going on.

You sat there for a few more minutes before deciding you should try to sleep again. It was late and you couldn’t spend another sleepless night longing for Crosshair. At least you could ignore the pain in your sleep. You said good night to Wrecker and walked out.

You didn’t expect Crosshair to be sitting in a chair cleaning his rifle. Had he heard what Wrecker said? You hadn’t been alone with him since before the accident. You should have just kept walking, but you just stood there staring at him. It wasn’t until he moved to get up that you said anything.

“Wait… please,” you whispered at the end.

He stared at you. He didn’t say a word, just stared waiting for you to talk. Gods his eyes were so pretty. And just like that, all of the emotions came crashing down on you. You loved him. And you needed him to listen.

“I’m not sure what I did or if I even did anything. If you don’t want to talk that is fine. You are not obligated to. But I need you to know you don’t have to leave a room every time I come in. You don’t have to ignore me. You don’t have to do anything for me. I don’t need an explanation for any of it. I just need you to know that I miss you.”

Fuck. You didn’t mean to say that last part. It all came out in a jumble of words. Maybe he didn’t hear it. He certainly wasn’t responding. You could feel the tears about to come any second. You moved to walk away, just needing to get away from his stare.

Just as you were about to walk into the bunks, you heard him.

“I miss you too.”

You stopped. Did he actually say that or am I imagining it? You turned around to see him staring at you again. It didn’t make sense. Why wouldn’t he talk to you then?

“I want to talk to you, I just don’t know how,” he whispered.

It was making even less sense now. You walked back to where he was and sat down.

“You almost died.”

Oh. That’s what this was about.

“Cross, I’m fine. It wasn’t that bad, I barely even have a scar from it,” you lifted your shirt as you spoke, showing him the small scar above your hip.

“You know I’m not good at this. I’m not good at talking about… my feelings,” his voice was barely above a whisper.

“What do you mean your feelings?”

He looks at you with those pretty eyes again. Fuck. You were going to crumble. His hand reaches for yours. He rubs his thumb against your knuckles. Gods can he hear how fast your heart is beating? He intertwines his hand with yours and looks at you once again.

You get it. You understand all of it now. For months he’s been trying to tell you in his own mysterious way. No one else would understand him. It wouldn’t be enough for anyone else, but it is for you. Because you understand him better than anyone.

“I love you.”

He says it. He doesn’t have to. You knew he always did. It all makes sense.

“I love you too. Always have.”

You didn’t have to say it back. He always knew you did. Because just as you know him, he knows you. Better than anyone else.

You both sat there for hours, enjoying each other’s company, talking about everything and nothing all at once. His hand didn’t leave yours for more than a second the rest of the night. You had no idea what any of this meant for both of you going forward, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care in this moment. He loves you. You love him. You could figure it out in the morning.

You woke up the next morning to the feeling of someone climbing in your bunk. You opened your eyes to see Crosshair with 2 cups of caf. He set them down on the shelf where he always does. You couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across your face. You love him. And he loves you.