because i haven't seen anyone do this lately!! +he deserves more fics... (>__>)

notes: long post..!! gender-neutral, human!reader, some drabbles here and there, he/they pronouns for bastion, no proof read lol :P

◈ It's easy to say that you and Bastion have an unspoken closeness from the start. Even now, Bastion is surprised when a new human acquaintance doesn't immediately view him with a wary look. But you seemed fearless and serene, greeting him as any other friend. He loved the energy you brought immediately.

◈ The fastest way to Bastion's heart is through his bird-friend— Ganymede's- heart first. The more the sweet canary opened up to you the more Bastion did, and vice versa. Getting comfortable enough to joke and play around with the two soon made you all inseparable.

◈ Loves mimicking you, beeping through your catchphrases or copying your current favourite phrase, pitch and all.

You collapse into the couch, exhausted from the days activities.

There's some heavy metallic footsteps that approach from another room, and then Bastion enters with a hot drink in his hand. Your favourite mug, too.

Gratefully, you take the cup and sniff the warming contents. “Thank you, love.”

Bastion chirps happily in response, then sits beside you. The couch dips notably with his weight, but he pays it no mind, especially when it means you lean on his shoulder.

You bring the mug to your forehead and let the heat soothe the tension of a dissolving headache. Then, you chuckle.

Your partner tilts his head, curious. There's a couple flitterling beeps, and a long hum; as close as possible to “What's the matter?”

“Just...” you start, a lovestruck grin on your features. “How did you get to be sooooo cute, huh?”

Bastion laughs, a higher pitch than usual, and uses a finger to prod at your stomach gently.

“Dvoww-krr-krr-svoooooo-kvii?” He beeps, same tone and rhythm as you. Hell, even the pitch was unnervingly close.

You narrow your eyes with a faux-offended look, before it breaks out into a smile.

“Hey, shut up, you-” You laugh, “That was uncanny! You gotta stop with the accurate recreations...”

Bastion chuckles lowly, and wraps his arm around your waist. He tilts down so that his head nuzzles into your cheek.

“Svooooo-kvii, krrr?” Their voice rumbles, playfully mocking you again. It's clear what you said made them very, very happy. Unfortunately for you, you may never hear the end of it.

You take a long sip of your lovingly-made drink and smack your lips, satisfied. “Hmm, actually, don't really stop... Ever...” you say. “Even that part if you is pretty adorable...”

Bastion lets out an involuntary sigh, then a short affirmative boop. His body whines as metal joints decompress, finally relaxed.

◈ Physical intimacy is less of a challenge than you might think. Aided by Bastion's affectionate outlook, you often find them reaching for a hug or simply swooping you up and carrying you about in their arms.

◈ Language is, as with any relationship, a big hurdle to cross. Certainly made more difficult by the fact Bastion's model was not made with vocalisations in mind. It was simple at first, picking up on tones and context clues here and there, but it wasn't enough. You wanted- No, needed- to understand more.

“You know any morse code?” Torbjörn asks, hopping to his feet. He claps his hands against his work apron out of habit and the study you're in fills with the smell of dust and copper.

“A little,” you respond, “the important phrases. Could put together a few sentences, maybe. Why do you ask?”

Torbjörn snorts dismissively, pulling some of his affects from the cramped shelves that surround you. “Ahh, that won't do it.”

He teeters back over, hefty books tucked under his arms. “Binary, musical language, common signalling calls,” he places down each book slowly, emphasising each phrase with a hearty pat to the covers. “...And, one more fer good measure.”

You see him reach into one of the desk's drawers and reveal a worn-looking book; sleek white cover adorned with scratches and an impressive amount of indented bookmarks.

“Original Omnica translation guide- Now this is the true treasure when it comes to understanding those old bots." Torbjörn gestures it towards you, but snatches it back before you can reach for it. “I won't let ya have this, but you can make copies. They don't make many like these anymore.”

You nod appreciatively, letting the guide fall into your hands. “All this will help me communicate better with him?” Your finger trails along the spine of the book, feeling each rough indentation.

“Will help you well enough, I'd think. Though he's always teachin' himself new phrases, new twitterings from Ganymede, too.” He sits back down and runs a hand through his beard. “Sometimes I'm thinking he does it to keep me on my toes.”

Balancing the books atop one another on your lap, you hum in acknowledgement. You bite your lip for a moment, a surge of curiosity and anxiety swelling in your chest.

"What if Bastion's saying something I don't understand? Even if this is useful at first...” You avert your eyes as you stand up, carrying a new weight in your arms.

The Lindholm guffaws, and waves you off. “Oh, same thing you do for any language, really. You ask 'em what they mean, they'll usually rephrase to help ye out.”

“Besides,” Torbjörn continues, throwing you a knowing grin, “the amount of time you spend around Bastion? I'm sure you'll pick it up in no time.”

Your face flushes with a timid warmth, knowing that he's likely right, even if he was holding you to the same standard as one of the world's most dedicated engineers.

“Thank you, Mr. Lindholm.” You smile, and prop the study's door open to leave.

“Work hard, now!” He cheers behind you as the door closes, “And remember to return that book!”

◈ The first time you respond perfectly to one of Bastion's musings they light up. Literally and figuratively; they get so excited that their optics start flickering much brighter, nearly blinding you in the process. Bastion trills and speaks so fast that it's a little too much for you to keep up with, but he understands that you're still learning. They're just so overjoyed you're putting in so much effort...

◈ His favourite things to do with you are your daily mundanities, and also the most wholesome little dates you can think of. Tending to a garden, cleaning up an after-party, flying a kite in an open meadow... It's all so calming, and you agreeing to the one-on-one time in any regard sends joy sparking through his wires.

◈ Something you didn't expect when you started dating is how cocky Bastion can act... You're not sure who taught him such self-confidence, but you're torn between thanking and scorning them as Bastion wins the third bet in a row. Damn his intelligence AND his stupid cute chuckle that makes you forgive him instantly.

◈ Lets Ganymede in on nearly everything, both activity and gossip-wise. The silly bird has so much more character than initially thought and it doesn't escape your attention the way that he taps Bastion to alert to your presence, or the talon-print in ink at the end of letters you recieve, or the way the canary seems to be purposefully playing with you at times. Acting sly, like there's something he knows that you don't. Gany becomes your bastard bird child over time, but Bastion wouldn't have it any other way.

◈ Bastion's already cautious by nature, but this goes double for his romantic interest. Scaring anyone outside of the battlefield is already his worst fear. But he's fiercely protective, and he knows how dangerous the world can be— the concept of letting you get hurt is even more unthinkable.

Allying with Overwatch was always dangerous, but Bastion never expected you to be joining the fight so directly.

You were stubborn though, and you'd bonded to the rest of your team enough to want to protect them, to fight for them, and for a better future. Of course your omnic partner thought that was admirable, but the anxiety they felt was down-right inconsolable.

“It's alright, Bast,” you said as the airship grew ever-closer to the battlefield, “this is the perfect chance to show you what I'm made of, so you don't have to worry so much.”

You stay close to a medic the whole time, a compromise you'd made so that Bastion could focus on their own fight. Still, that alone wouldn't be enough to defend you from a hulking enemy four times your size.

The battle raged on as you dodged, defended and launched your weapon at the mech-like attacker as best you could. But at some point it had turned into a 1-v-1, and there was little stopping you from being thrown onto your ass by a heavy blow to your chest.

You cry out as you fall, shocked from the impact, and tried to scramble to your feet to no avail.

Still, the tank in front of you was charging up an attack, one likely to be a final blow. All you could do in the moment was pump as much of your own damage into the enemy as you could before it came swinging down.

Before anything came, the enemy collapses before you, only narrowly dodging crushing your legs— Several hundred bullet holes had pierced its back in moments.

In front of you was unmistakably Bastion, just in a different configuration, the E-54 Assault Form if Torbjörn's words serve your memory.

The lights that slipp through the cracks of his casing glowed a bold red and white, alternating hurriedly like a warning signal.

One thousand thoughts must have crossed Bastion's mind at once— If he could help it, he would never have shown you such an aggressive side of himself.

But he had no choice, the omnic reasoned, as he'd seen you mere seconds from injury before rounding the corner. He'd much rather you be scared than come into any meaningful harm.

Alarms still on the fritz, Bastion flicks his attention between any sound in the area; a crumbling stone wall, a passing aircraft-- You'd never seen a turret look so stressed before.

As quickly as possible, you're jumping to your feet to approach your partner, then practically throwing yourself atop of him with a sob.

You grab the chassis, using your returning strength to hold him tight. Your chest heaves, but you instantly feel more at ease as the vehicle-like whirring came to a stop. As did the blaring lights.

“Bastion, I'm okay! I'm okay...” You pant, a cold sweat painting your forehead.

He reconfigures quickly, sitting on his knees to meet you at optic-level and check you over. Any wounds? Any scratches?

Only when he's sure that you're damage-free and just very shaken up does he let his frame relax. He reaches his hand up to your face, moving your hair out of your face so he can better see your eyes.

Oh, how Bastion melts at that soft, weak expression you wear when you lean into his palm. No fear, no resentment. He'll protect it from evil for as long as he is alive. And for you, he'll stay alive a long long time.

◈ Has a huge soft spot for shows of dedication. Though Bastion's never okay with you putting yourself in harms way, they get very flustered when you do stand up for them. You; this perfect, generous, soft, squishy person- defending Bastion; a bulky, weaponised machine? He feels so seen with you, heat radiating through his core from the way you speak of him so softly. Yeah, this bot wants to marry you — can you get married? Oh, please tell him there are omnic-human weddings...