#fishieswrites

Oooooo, shiny ship *grabbed hands*. I hope you like this! (Spoilers for The Bad Batch season 3)

29. A kiss to the back of the hand (au where everything happens exactly the same. Except Mayday didn't really die. Echo finds him with the rest of the clones on Tantis.)

Crosshair had been a marksman most his life. That may not be a long time compared to most humans, but it was all he had to fall back on for that short time.

Losing his hand had brought clarity to the need to diversify his skill set, but he hadn't wanted to give up shooting. There was a peace to sniping that he craved. The planning, the wait for the perfect moment- anticipation, and the pride in a successful hit. He only found such satisfaction with one other.

He glanced up from cleaning his rifle to find the man who swept back into his life like a hurricane. Mayday was in his spot, an old chair salvaged from a ship and parked unceremoniously in Crosshair's work area. The fact Mayday had a regular spot still stole his breath some days.

He didn't deserve all the luck that had fallen in his lap. Omega insisting on saving him as well, the Bad Batch taking him back, and now Mayday. Yes there had been bad luck too. His hand had been a loss, but not as great as Tech...

He looked back to the rifle, fine tuning it to adjust to him. The repetition could have been a black spot, a chance for his mind to spiral and focus on the bad even as the sun shown brightly through the window. But it isn't. Instead he finds the peace he'd earned on Tantis.

Only for a few minutes, though. The chair across from his worktable creaks and a shadow moved around to shift beside him. Crosshair points to the spanner across the table, new metal prosthesis catching the evening hues as night settles around them.

Mayday grabs the spanner and places it next to the rifle. As Crosshair murmurs an irritated thanks, he intercepts the hand moving to pick it up. Warm, living flesh kisses the back of the cold metal just as lovingly as if it was real human skin.

"Come on. Hunter's making us go out. Some bantha shit about teambuilding."

"I have receive no such message."

"There's a new training sim-

"I am familar with it. I have already broken it down and given my notes to him."

"Tech..."

"I do not plan on spending my free time with group activies today."

"Just say you want to be left alone."

"I did not say that because I do not desire to he left alone, but I will not waste my precious off time on training we will be assigned tomorrow."

"Why didn't you tell Hunter that? He's going on about bonding and teamwork-"

"I do not wish to spend with the team."

"..."

"I'll grab the Firepuncher. She needs a cleaning."

"I knew you would see my way."

What is Touch Between Friends series, AO3 link:

Rating: E

Pairing: Bad Batch poly, Crosstech focused in Mosaic, with a Huntech addition because my lovely co writer for most of the series @sergeantgoggles must captain her ship 🚢

Summary-

WiTBF: Echo wasn't stupid. People forget that when they're confronted with 501st ARC trooper crazy. But to be able to survive that crazy you have to be able to plan it and adapt on the fly. Which is why after a month Echo had figured out who was sleeping with who in the Batch. They were all sleeping with each other.

Mosaic: They've been on the run for months with out Crosshair when Tech gets a message. Crosshair wants Technician and he's willing the bargain.

Say it's Alright: It's been a while since Hunter and Tech have had a night to themselves. Hunter steps up to change that and to make sure they're still on the same page after the upheavals and readjusting of Crosshair leaving and returning to them.

Angel Crosshair and Demon Tech fluffy short. Again this is inspired by @letshareapapou 's au(sorry I'm tagging you so much recently!)

rateing: g

pairing: Crosstech

summary: Crosshair doesn't do mornings

Of course oh captain! 40- impulsive kiss (added in a few of your head canons for funnzies)

To see Hunter in his element was something Tech had thought would always be fascinating as a cadet. When they were being molded into an elite squad it had been mesmerizing to see Hunter pin point electronics and more with seemingly arbitrary actions.

But that had been when they were younger. Now he knew Hunter felt electromagnetic fields just as he could feel wind on his skin. That the seemingly random actions where to gain more data on distance and strength of the fields. He'd become so used to it that most times he completely missed Hunter using his enhanced senses, his nose to far buried in his datapad trying to find Intel or sometimes in the pursuit of his own interests.

Occasionally though he'd look up as Hunter was running a hand through the dirt, enhance senses taking a back seat to a skill that they had all learned but Hunter had taken to best. His tracking skills worked in tandem with his senses. Finding the fastest routes to any target, sometimes even quicker then he could himself.

This time it was training, but that didn't take from the pleasure of seeing Hunter where he wanted to be most. In the field, guiding them to another victory. Where his Sergent belonged.

Hunter smiled at him, eyebrow cooked with a hint of concern in his eyes. "Everything good? You've been staring, Ace."

"Yes. We are on track to complete the mission two rotations early if we keep this pace." He walked over to Hunter and put away his data pad. A moment of impulsiveness took over and he took off his helmet. There were no cameras here.

"Keep your bucket on-?!" Hunter's words died, silenced by lips pressed against his for a brief kiss. Tech didn't often give into impulses, but with Hunter his logic seemed to leave in moments of fancy.

And it always paid off. Hunter quickly wrapped an arm around him to readjust to the kiss. Their buckets knocking against each other as they parted.

"What was that for?"

"... You are very attractive when you are focused on a goal."

Hunter chuckled and slipped his bucket back on. "Keep watching then. I'll be your dream man for the next two rotations."

Mark me, AO3 link :

Rating: E

Pairing: Crosshair/Hunter

Summary: Hunter wants to write his name on Crosshair. Crosshair's willing to humor him.

Crosshunt isn't a ship I write for often. I remember writing this after drawing a doodle of Crosshair hand cuffed to a wall(?) with a hard on and a thin cut, because afterwards it scream Crosshunt to me.

Snow was a novelty the first three times Tech saw it. After that it was a scientifically understood natural phenomenon, like rain. Mostly it was an inconvenience. The cold affected his datapad, stiffened his fingers to being almost unusable, and often made his goggles fog when entering buildings after long periods outside.

Still Tech made sure to only make surface level grumbling, nothing that would make Hunter move faster in the cold weather. For Hunter it was novel every time.  Cold numbed the senses, giving their sergeant a rare respite from his heightened senses. With the added bonus of snow muffling sound enough that Crosshair could bitch freely once Hunter was out of sight. His grumbling was often a much needed relief from the tedium of having to fuss and baby technology into working.

The only sense not affected was Hunter’s ability to read electromagnetic fields, which meant he could track their targets and keep track of the squad. Sometimes even better then usual because of the lack of physical distraction of being over sensitized.

There was one bright side to the cold for Tech.

When the mission was over and they returned to their ship. Hunter would hesitate, delaying the inevitable pins and needles of raising his surface body temperature rapidly. Maybe Wrecker would start a snowball fight, maybe he and Crosshair would rush into the ship, cursing because snow worked past the seal of his armor somehow.

Eventually there would be a moment with only him and Hunter. His sergeant holding his bucket under his arm, face exposed to stare at the landscape as if it held an answer he’d been long looking for.

There was always the temptation to go in, to leave Hunter to his musings and warm up in the engine room.

Patience was well rewarded though. Eventually Hunter would turn to him, perhaps with snow caught in his lashes. Tech would remove his own helmet, always waiting until the last moment to expose himself to the frigid air. Saving his own senses from the numbing cold.

Hunter would chuckle as Tech winced at the cold and pull him closer for a kiss. It should be unpleasant. To cold wind biting at his cheeks as Hunter’s chill lips meet his, and it is in a fashion, but Hunter’s reactions are well worth the minor discomforts. A rare moment when he can kiss as hard as he wants, take as much as he wants without worrying about lingering stressors deciding this was the straw that broke the camel’s back and pushed him into a margarine.

When they separate Tech is breathless, the cold air feeling far too thin suddenly.

Hunter smiles at him. “Come on Ace, let’s get you back inside where your toys work.”

Tech follows, as he usually does. “My datapad is not a toy. It is a highly complex-“

🔪- I want to say whale 🍆 for the mer au's 😅

🍦- This is a cruel ask 😭 Tarkin- freed the clones(in the worst way for the worst reason, but he did), was flexible enough to admit when an idea he thought was bad was actually good, good at handling work place disputes