Softness Suits You (Tech x GN! Reader)

Softness Suits You

"(Y/N)," called Tech, skidding to a halt as he rounded the corner. Blaster fire passed the corner mere seconds later. "Now is not the time to give up on me," he commented, pulling you back to your feet. You'd slipped down the durasteel wall you'd been learning against with a sharp groan of pain, an arm tightly wound around your midsection, the other putting pressure on another unseen wound hidden beneath your armor and the layers of fabric.

"Wasn't the time for the plan to go wrong either," (Y/N) voiced, recalling how the mission had gone sideways quickly. "We went over the plan five times," you grumbled, blowing out an agonized sigh as the stabbing pain grew in strength.

"I got the package, didn't I?" responded Wrecker, the sound of blaster fire being exchanged echoing through the com.

"Anyone injured?" came Hunter's smokey voice. Omega's innocent one followed, celebrating after hitting another target with her energy bow. Echo soon confirmed he and Wrecker were slightly banged up, but nothing serious. Their main problem was being pinned down.

"(Y/N) got hit, unsure how serious it is," announced Tech, seemingly ignoring your comment that you were okay. Even when it was evidently obvious you were anything but. You were losing blood, feeling dizzy and shaky, and could barely stand on your own two feet, and Tech had stated you looked paler than usual.

"Tech, get (Y/N) back to the Marauder," demanded Echo, his voice severe and unyielding. The job for Sid meant little compared to the life of a friend.

"Omega will meet you there," said Hunter. The young clone's protests shortly followed his words. "That's an order," he added, slipping into a mix of his previous Sargent Mode and that of a protective father figure trying to protect their child and family. "The rest of us Plan 13."

"Oh yeah," exclaimed Wrecker, launching into the attack on droids and mercenaries alike. The human wrecking ball wasted little time running head-first into the battle again. His actions a reminder of his days as a soldier of the GAR, back when everything was simpler before the dark times began to strangle the galaxy.

"Oh brother," mutters Echo before readying himself to rejoin the battle before him. Pushing aside the memories of the many food fights on Kamino before it was bombarded and forgotten about—memories of his brothers of the Domino Squad, 501st, and Bad Batch.

"Ready?" asked Tech, placing his D17s in the holsters for the time being, reaching for your arm to pull you back to your feet. Directing the arm around his neck as his own snaked around your midsection. Hearing the sharpness in your breath as you began to limp forward. The pilot soon pulled the yellow-tinted screen of his helmet down, scanning you over to get a clear idea of the damage and injuries sustained.

"What's the prognosis, Doctor?" sarcastically asked (Y/N), your eyes glazing over as you become confused and disorientated. "Is it as bad as Crosshair's friction burns from the Skako mission?" you asked with a light chuckle, wincing shortly after with the pain shooting through your ribs.

"I would argue that was worse," answered Tech, recalling Crosshair grumbling for days afterward—even more so when Wrecker refused to let him forget about it. "However, this is a close second," he said, trying to keep your spirits up and offer a distraction from your injuries and dire state.

"Damn. I was hoping to top him this time," replied (Y/N), as if you had forgotten Crosshair wasn't there. Instead, he had chosen to return to the Empire, even after they had bombarded Tipoca City with all of them inside. "Still working on that plan to get him back," you add with the smallest of grins.

"Crosshair ... chose a different path. We have to accept that, even if we don't agree with it," spoke Tech with a prang of sadness. Thankful when the Marauder came into view, Omega was already on the steps, waving at them with a small smile of her own. At least until it hit her, Tech was all but keeping you up now.