#bad batch gift exchange

[knightprincess]

Softness Suits You (Tech x GN! Reader)

Words: 2k Warnings: None - unless you count Kriff and Karabast as swearing. Note: Gender Neutral - Use of You and (Y/N) A part of the Bad Batch Gift Exchange @cloneficgiftexchange For: @theunderscorekinginyellow Prompt: "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. 

“What happened?” questioned Omega, quickly running back up the steps, moving to get the medical kit stowed away aboard the ship. At the same time, Tech pulled (Y/N) over to the sleeping racks upon getting you aboard. Nodding to Omega in thanks, when she brought the medical kit over to him, he reached for stem cells and bacta gel in hopes of aiding the healing process. 

“We could use a lift,” came the booming voice of Echo, the coms lighting up with the disagreement between the Arc Trooper, Hunter, and Wrecker. 

“That with or without Omega hanging from the ship and me falling out or over something?” asked (Y/N), doing your best to lighten the dreary mood and keep Omega from seeing just how bad things were. You had a soft spot for the kid and the boys. 

“It was an unscheduled study break,” Tech voiced in response. At least explaining Omega hanging from the ship. A smirk appeared across his lips upon remembering the two separate incidences regarding (Y/N) falling over something and falling from the ship completely. “And momentarily lapse in coordination.” 

“Just patching (Y/N) up, then we’ll be there,” announced Omega, keeping the trio of Hunter, Echo, and Wrecker in the loop. 

“This is going to hurt,” stated Tech, receiving a (Y/N) famous deadpan look in response. At least informing him, he was pointing out the obvious again, without calling the exceptionally minded clone by the normal nickname. Captain Obvious. 

“You mean more than it already does?” You asked, the next part of your comment forgotten as the bacta gel burned like someone had poured the lavas of Mustafar into your open wounds. “Kriff!” 

“Language” worded Wrecker via the comm link. 

“Aurebesh,” you replied, much to Omega’s amusement. Tech could only shake his head and roll his golden eyes. 

“Switch out the words, (Y/N),” spoke Hunter, once again the familiar sound of blaster fire following his words, hinting at the trouble the trio was in now. 

“Yes, Papa Hunter. Next time, I’ll use Karabast,” quickly shot (Y/N), not noticing Tech had stepped close with an anesthetic, at least not until he caught you with it. 

“Rest for now (Y/N). Omega and I can handle the extraction,” announced Tech. He made sure you were lying comfortably on his rack before heading to the cockpit with Omega. The young clone gave Gonky his own mission to watch over you while you slept. 

When (Y/N) finally woke up, the Marauder was on stable ground, and the ship was quiet—too quiet. The only noise was Gonky waddling the length of the ship with the normal “Gonk” on repeat, although the droid did seem to be pestering Tech, who sat at the communications desk just in front of the sleeping racks. 

“Where’s the others?” you asked with a cracked and broken voice. Your throat was dry and scratchy from the lack of use. Slowly, you moved your head to look around the ship. The cockpit was empty, void of Echo and Wrecker. The rear gunner's port had no Omega resting there, although Lula and her little clone trooper were. Hunter was nowhere to be seen either. Only Tech and Gonky were there. 

“Wrecker and Omega are following through with their tradition,” Tech replied, standing and walking over, an unreadable expression painted on his features. The moment he reached you, he placed a soft hand on your forehead, relief washing over him minutes later. "Hunter and Echo are delivering the package to Sid.” 

“How long was I out?” you asked. Then it hit you: You were no longer on Eadu but instead back on Ord Monell. 

“Just over a day,” started Tech, helping you sit up. “I’d appreciate it if we didn’t repeat what happened,” he added, pushing his goggles back up the bridge of his nose. 

“I’m not gonna let you get shot, Tech, and I did tell you to leave me,” argued (Y/N), feeling relief now the majority of your pain was gone, either nulled by the anesthetic or washed away by the bacta healing the wounds. 

“We don’t leave our own behind,” stated Tech, a matter of factly, with a pointer finger raised, as if to drill it into your head and make it stick. “The others are fine as well. Wrecker still thinks the scans are invisible spiders,” he added, allowing his stiffness to melt a little upon hearing your small ring of laughter. 

“Hunter and Echo still the parents?” (Y/N) asked, side-eyeing and suspicious, just in case something had changed while you were out for the count. 

“Careful (Y/N), your softer side is showing,” joked Tech. “Either that, or you hit your head harder than I thought.” 

“Or I’m high as a kite and hallucinating,” you commented. 

“Not lost your sense of humor, " Echo said upon boarding the ship. A scratch now donning his cheek below the left eye. However, the worry plaguing him now seemed to melt away. 

“Mustafar would freeze over before that happened,” (Y/N) replied with a small smile, “Or Hoth would warm up.” You quietened for a few minutes before it hit you: Tech had said your soft side was showing. Didn’t it always when you were around your found family? “Wait, what you mean my softer side is showing?” you questioned, hearing Echo chuckle as he held his hands up in surrender before walking off to the cockpit. 

“I don’t mean to offend you,” started Tech, suddenly uncomfortable, even more so when his hopes of you missing his words were dashed. “Normally, when out in the field or around Sid, you appear like Crosshair, stoic, cold, and armed with snide comments for enemies and sarcastic ones to lighten the mood,” he rambled, hoping to explain away what he now saw as a blunder. 

“Tech,” you softly call, a sweet grin appearing now as you made it apparent you weren’t offended by the comment, merely curious. 

“I thought it was obvious. Softness suits you,” directed Tech, 

“Will you two make it official already?” voiced Wrecker as he and Omega returned to the ship. Hunter followed along behind, slightly confused by the comment but smirking nonetheless. 

“Way to ruin the mood, Wrecker,” (Y/N) replied. “I’m recruiting Omega to help terrorize you the next time you go speed dating.” 

“That was one time.” 

“Wrecker went speeding dating?” questioned Echo 

“Yup, It’s right up there with Hunter and Crosshair waking up handcuffed in a fountain,” you reply, hearing Omega laughing, 

“I hate your memory right now,” commented Hunter, his cheeks redding as he sat down at his normal spot. 

“Please do tell me more,” commented Echo, knowing he and Fives got up to some crazy things, along with Kix, Hardcase, and Jesse, things he often got a chuckle out of when he allowed himself to remember them. However, he wanted to know more about what the rest of the batch got up to during the war. 

“No! I’m gonna die of embarrassment,” replied Wrecker, recalling the speeding dating disaster. Their first shore leave after joining the war effort. (Y/N) as their Jedi had told them to have fun, not expecting to get a call from Fox informing you, your squad was spending the night in detention. 

“Wasn’t that bad” replied Tech, trying to soothe the situation. Although he’d admit you laughing from behind him wasn’t helping. 

“I want to hear about it,” Omega called, her sweet, innocent voice seemingly breaking through. Hunter and Wrecker shared a glance, knowing (Y/N) couldn’t deny the young clone anything, although, thankfully, you told the stories in a child-friendly way. 

“Was that the one I have no memory of?” asked Tech, recalling they’d gotten up to a lot of mischief. He’d personally set off a few security breaches from hacking sensitive information. Wrecker had set so many alarms off with his explosives that the Coruscant Guard had come to expect it and, at points, used it as a training exercise. Hunter and Crosshair found themselves in contests with different goals. Meanwhile, (Y/N) collectively named everything the Lame Game. 

“Yup,” replied (Y/N), popping the p. “Never did find out how you ended up black-out drunk under the booth table. Or why you were wearing Wolffe’s helmet?” You laughed. 

“Tech’s right; Softness does suit you,” replied Hunter, the smallest of grins appearing across his lips as he got comfortable, ready to relive the embarrassing moments of the past. “You’re still the best storyteller, though.”

KnightPrincess Masterlist

#bad batch gift exchange #star wars #star wars fanfictions #star wars fic #star wars oneshot #reader insert #the bad batch #reader interactive #x reader #x you #fluff #hurt #comfort #soft tech #tech bad batch #omega bad batch #hunter bad batch #wrecker bad batch #echo bad batch #gender neutral reader #tech x gn reader #tech x reader #cross posted on ao3 #cross posted on deviantart #cross posted on inkitt #cross posted on quotev #cross posted on wattpad #cross posted on neobook #cross posted on novlr

[arctrooper69]

Mine

Here's my piece for the wonderful @isaidonyourknees for the @cloneficgiftexchange! So sorry it's a day and a half late! 😂😅

Warnings: Suggestive spice (nothing explicit), unwanted advances, jealousy, angst

--------------------------------------------------

"Leave me alone, Crosshair." The order meant to be snappish slipped out instead with a tired sigh.

"No," came the reply.

You sighed again as you felt him shift and sit down a few feet away. No more words were exchanged - the silence felt both peaceful, yet suffocating.

"Why are you up here pouting?" He finally spoke.

You glanced at him sharply. "I'm not pouting!"

"Yes you are."

"No. I'm not!"

He huffed dryly. "Sure looks like it to me."

"Hunter benched me!"

Crosshair shifted and sighed, "It's for your own good."

You scoffed, "And how would you know what's good for me?"

"You're exhausted. You're off your game."

"I'm fine. I feel fine."

He sighed again and you could practically feel him rolling his eyes. "That constant tapping of your foot and the way you're shaking tells me you're trying to run on stims and caf."

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. "And how would you know?"

He was silent. "Because I've done the same thing."

"So that makes you think you're better than me?"

"No."

You crossed your arms, turning away from him. “I’m still not pouting.”

“Sure.”

You glared at him out of the corner of your eye. “Just go away.” This time the words did deliver the sharp edge you’d wanted before, but now you weren’t sure it was exactly what you wanted.

You didn’t know what you wanted.

“Fine, came the equally snappish response. Crosshair stood and headed back down the wooded trail. A sudden disappointment threatened to overtake you and a heat burned in the back of your throat as you tried to swallow it back.

“Crosshair wait…” you called out, turning to face him as he paused and turned back.

“What?”

“I…” You stopped. No. Crosshair had better things to do than to deal with emotions that you yourself couldn’t even decipher. “Nevermind.”

For a second he paused, almost as if waiting for you to once again change your mind. He shook his head and turned around once again, disappearing into the woods, leaving you on your own.

Fine. It’s fine. You’d asked for privacy and that’s exactly what he gave you. Yet, it felt lonely nonetheless.

Crosshair was confusing to say the least. One moment it felt like he was trying to make an emotional connection, and the next he acted like he wanted nothing to do with you.

The roar of engines echoed through the trees from the base of the hill as the Marauder soared into the sky and disappeared into the atmosphere.

***

It seemed like forever ago that you'd met the surly sniper on a job. It was forever ago. So much had changed since a heated exchange of angry words led to a moment of heedless passion. One night. A romance ignited by the very intensity that divided you. The same fingers that rested pompously on the trigger of a rifle soon pulled through tangled hair and moved with purpose against your warmth. Tongues once sharp and taunting, now slotted through parted lips with desperate pleas for more.

And then it was over. Back to the cold realities of war. No words were spoken, only awkward avoidances and inverted eyes.

Talk to me, you'd wanted to say. Tell me what you want. Tell me what you need.

Perhaps that's all it was to him. Maybe you'd given him everything he wanted in that moment. Maybe that's all you were to him - a distraction - a soldier's relief from the stress of a never ending war.

You'd wanted to say something but the words wouldn't come. Then the galaxy changed and as the Republic fell, so did your hopes.

And now after so long, he was back.

***

It was nearing dusk before you finally pushed yourself from the ground and headed back down the path.

Fueled by a growing sense of hunger and the need to be around others, you found yourself walking towards the local cantina.

The music blared from somewhere above, pumping a bass that rattled your bones.

Despite the club-like atmosphere the lighting was dim, illuminating the same bar scene that haunted almost every planet in the galaxy.

The air was thick with the scent of spice and the sound of raucous laughter. You sat at the bar, nursing a drink. Despite the bustle, it still felt lonely.

“Hey there, sweetheart.”

Fingers ran across your back as you spun around to face the unfamiliar voice.

A large nikto smiled drunkenly over at you as he leaned against the bar.

“You look lonely. You here alone?”

His breath reeked of alcohol. “You're real pretty,” he slurred, reaching out to grab your arm.

You jerked away, shooting him a glare. "Back off," you growled, voice barely audible over the din of the crowd.

The nikto persisted, his grip tightening. "Come on, don't be like that.”

“Dude,” you rolled your eyes, “leave me alone.”

He sighed, seemingly annoyed at your refusal.

“A pretty girl like you shouldn't be alone in a place like this. Let me at least walk you home, baby.”

“Don't call me that,” You spat, wrenching your arm from his grip.

His jaw stiffened as he stood up straighter.

“You should be more grateful that I'm even giving you the time of day, bitch!”

Now it was your turn to stand. The nikto grabbed your arm again. Your fingers curling into a fist, ready to strike the stupid smirk from his drunken face.

"She's not yours to touch."

A familiar voice growled from behind as the nikto’s hand was wrenched from your arm with a cry of pain.

Crosshair.

What was he doing back already? You turned to face him standing behind you, expression dark and dangerous. His hand rested on the blaster at his hip, ready to draw at a moment's notice.

The nikto's eyes narrowed. “And who do you think you are, asshole?”

Crosshair glowered, taking a menacing step forward. “I'm the guy who's going to put an extra hole in you if you don't leave immediately.”

The nikto paused, unsure if he was bluffing or not.

Crosshair clicked the safety off, loosening the blaster from its holster.

"I'm not gonna ask you again," he said, voice low and threatening.

The nikto had enough. “Geez, okay fine! I'm leaving!”

Without another word, he turned and fled, disappearing into the crowd.

You stood silently watching as Crosshair stepped forward, his practiced eyes scanning every inch of you.

“Are you alright?” He asked, “Did he hurt you?”

You let out a shaky breath, “No,” you murmured, “I'm fine.” A smile flitted across your face as you looked up.

Honey brown eyes stared sharp, pierced with concern and something else.

Jealousy?

“Good.” He replied. His lips parted as if he wanted to say something more but couldn't find the courage to do so.

But this time something rose within your own chest, warm and encouraging.

“Crosshair?” The words came timidly despite their bold intent.

He looked sharply, “What?”

“What did you mean by that? ‘She's not yours to touch’?” You asked. His hand, still on your arm, gripped a bit tighter, pulling you close. Something flashed in his eyes. It wasn't the hardness you'd come to expect from him.

“It means you're mine. You've always been mine.”

--------------------------------------------------

@zoeykallus @ttzamara @nahoney22 @merkitty49 @viva-la-whump @agenteliix @dumpsters-little-matchbook @nekotaetae @ladykatakuri @loverofclones @heyitsaloy @padawancat97 @jambolska-grozdova @flyingkangaroo @melymigo @the-rain-on-kamino @jiabae @my-own-oracle @dragonrider9905 @queenofspades6 @ordinarylokix @jupitersaturnapollo @queencousland101 @vampire-rogue @southernbaguette @staycalmandhugaclone @dalu-grantkylo @dangraccoon @aconstructofamind @sev-on-kamino @sol-the-otter @pb-jellybeans @atomickidsoul @caitnotfound @ghostlyembassy @skellymom @freesia-writes @trixie2023 @jedipoodoo @reader6898 @all-mights-babygirl @arcsimper5 @red-robin-yum08 @wintersnnowie @whore-of-many-hot-men @theeyesofasoldier @griffedeloup @starswhores @totallyunidentified @waytooldforthis78

If you want to be on my taglist, feel free to send me a message! Also, asks are open! Reblogging is very much encouraged and it makes me do a happy dance every time any of my writing gets reblogged 😂❤️

#Crosshair #crosshair x reader #crosshair x you #tbb crosshair #tbb crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair x you #the bad batch crosshair #the bad batch crosshair x you #the bad batch crosshair x reader #crosshair tbb #crosshair tbb x you #crosshair tbb x reader #star wars #star wars the clone wars #the bad batch #clone wars #swtcw #sw tcw #sw tbb #tbb hunter #tbb echo #tbb wrecker #tbb tech #tbb omega #bad batch #crosshair bad batch #clone fic gift exchange #clone force 99 #sniper #clone trooper crosshair

[dragonrider9905]

Infectious Love

Summery: After a failed, almost confession of love, you and Hunter's relationship is skating on thin ice...that is, until someone falls through (or gets stabbed in the gut), so to speak.

Warnings: Angst, lots of it, but comfort too. Lots of emotions. Mentions of blood and sickness.

Hellooooooooo @imaginesfordifferentfandoms tis I, your Secret Santa in the @cloneficgiftexchange!!!!! I really, really, hope you like it. I worked really hard on it ;D So I hope it turned out the way I imagined it in my head ;D Enjoy this kinda longish drabble XD Hehehehe now you understand all the questions I asked. I hope you don't mind I went with Hunter. You seemed to not mind any of them; he's my favorite so I know I can get carried away :D and I wanted to make sure the story was nice! Also, I gave Hunter's scarf a destiny. A fate. A sense of purpose. We now know what happened to it. I have spoken.

Furthermore, I'd like to throw a huge shout out to some people who deserve it. Firstly, @ghostofskywalker. Thank you so much for organizing this event and all the other ones like it. They are always so much fun and I enjoy them immensely. It is safe to say the others who join feel the same way. Thank you for all the hard work you put into it all! Also, thank you to @photogirl894 for being an awesome beta reader and supportive friend. I don't know if I would have finished this fic on time if she hadn't helped me through all the rough spots by her encouraging words. Bestie, you read everything but the ending...I hope you like it <3

The decree is written, now, let the story unfold.

“As a father, you couldn’t ask for a better place to raise a child.”

You’d heard Shep say these words to Hunter your first day on Pabu, and you had to admit, it made your heart flutter a little bit. You’d fallen hard for Hunter a long time ago but duty always got in the way. At first, you hadn’t realized just how much you cared for him during the Clone War, serving as their medic, until Hunter received a shot in the chest. It was then that you realized, or rather were honest with yourself, that your friendship was always more than just a friendship. Almost losing him gave you a clarity and an honesty with yourself that you needed, but that didn’t make things easy. In fact, they made them harder.

Because now you knew how YOU felt, but you had NO IDEA how he felt. Every day, you’d face a new challenge, a new battle, overcome insurmountable odds against the Separatists on top secret missions and won. Every night, you’d have a heart to heart with Hunter, talking about things that made him laugh, made you laugh, things that made you cry, or things that upset him. 

But never unburying that heavy secret locked away in your heart. 

You considered yourself brave in many aspects but not when it came to problems with the heart. You could tell Hunter anything and everything, except how you felt about him. Instead, you’d find little things every day to show him you loved him. You’d fix his caf the way he liked it, you’d make sure the others were considerate of his sense, you listened to him when he wanted to rant, you showed him you trusted him. You were his shoulder to lean on, his unofficial right hand man. Technically, Crosshair filled those shoes but not always. You tried to be the head of reason when the boys fought and patched them up when they were done arguing. 

Then the Clone War ended with fateful Order 66. Your world turned upside down and even though circumstances were different, your situation was the same. 

That secret would have to be pried out of your cold dead hands. 

You’d been on the run, constantly in fear for your lives and that of the child in your care. You’d started to love her as your own daughter, and you could see Hunter did too. You’d seen Hunter with Cut and Suu’s children before, but somehow, this was different. He’d cared for her as a father would. And that made your heart melt more than you ever thought it could. 

Now, here on Pabu, having something that resembled peace and a chance at a life, was it time? Could you actually have the dream you despaired of. The dream which was a nightly comfort but in the morning seemed unreachable as something you thought you couldn’t hope for? 

Shep’s words teased you. Taunted you. Pried at you. 

Perhaps, perhaps it was time to open your heart? 

“So have you reconsidered staying?”

“For soldiers, putting down roots is an occupational hazard.” 

“Is that all you are? Soldiers?”

You’d seen the thoughtful look on Hunter’s face. It was the one he made when he was considering something. There was no contention, just thoughtful pondering. 

Somehow, some way, that moment spurred you and you worked up the courage. 

Hunter sat in the cockpit, swirling his knife. You approached and leaned against the door. You’d love to sit there and watch that for hours. You smiled a little to yourself, waiting for him to recognize your presence so as to not scare him into a mistake (not that he’d ever but…better be safe than sorry.) 

“Echo said he’s on his way. Will be here in a few rotations.” he said without looking up. “Omega will be glad to see him.”

“Yeah, she misses him, the poor kid.”

Sheaving his knife, he turned to you. 

“So, what can I help you with?”

“Oh, you know, just checking in on my Sargeant. You’ve been in here all day.” You placed some fruit native to Pabu in front of him. You never could remember the name, but you’d noticed he liked them. 

“Thanks,” he gave half a smile while you took the seat next to him. “What kind of trouble are Wrecker and Omega getting into?”

“Ohhhh probably best not to know right now. Just enjoy the few moments of peace while you can.”

He chuckled and cut into the fruit.

“Soooooo” your heart pounded. You were actually going to do it. You got this…just had to breathe and remain steady, it’d be ok. 

Hunter gave you a side eye, silently offering you a piece of the fruit. Kriff, he can tell. You tried to slow your heart best you could. 

“So.” He prompted you.

You laughed. “I heard Shep the other day. Something about settling down…ever think about it?”

He sighed. “More than you know. I honestly don’t know what to do about it. I’d like to but… It’s … complicated.”

“Ever think about marrying a pretty woman and having a family? Raising Omega somewhere safe where she’d be happy…”

He huffed a little. 

“Who’d I marry? Please don’t suggest the woman Wrecker’s friend was trying to set me up with.” 

At the words, the muscles in your face felt heavy and turned sour. The twinkle in your eye went out and the joy in your demeanor dissolved. 

An empty smile remained on your face. No indication to the outsider that anything had changed. But Hunter wasn’t an outsider. He knew you inside and out. 

Who’d I marry? You weren’t even a consideration. You weren’t on the list. Of course you wouldn’t be. It’d be foolish for you to think that. Why’d you hope in the first place? You should have known better. 

Swallowing hard, you bit back tears and forced a laugh. 

You had Hunter’s full attention now. He sat up straight and leaned forward a bit. 

He immediately sensed the change of demeanor. Your heart rate plummeted but beat hard. Your focus was gone, staring into nothing. Even if it was just for a millisecond, he’d have noticed it, but it lasted longer than that. 

Your hollow laugh filled the cabin.   

He knew he messed up.

Hunter moved to speak again but it was too late. You’d gotten up and moved toward the door. 

“Well um, I should go check on Omega and Wrecker and see what they’re up to before they do too much damage. Yeah, yeah…”

The next moment you were out of the cabin and down the ramp without a second look behind you. 

Kriff. He had to fix this. 

He almost went after you. He almost made it out the ship, but an incoming transmission stopped him. This could be the one he was waiting for. He looked longingly out to where he saw you hugging yourself, making your way slowly across the shipyard, and went back inside the ship. 

Kark it all. This’d better be important, Echo.

Tech was gone. Omega was taken. Crosshair a prisoner. Echo abandoned them, again. It was just you, Wrecker and Hunter now. A ship once filled to bursting with life and light, warm with the love and laughter shared between its walls, was now cold with an emptiness, a magnanimous devoid maw that the ship had never known before. 

Tech was dead. Crosshair was gone. Omega was taken. 

He was lost. 

Hunter might as well have added you to the list of lost as well, because even though you were physically on the ship, you weren’t with him. You were distant. Gone. In every way possible other than physical. You’d done your best to keep Wrecker and himself together. You’d been the same insurmountable strength you’d always been for them to lean on. You were being the strong one for them because you knew they couldn’t right now. He was angry, frustrated, focused and lost all in one but didn’t know where to direct that energy. As always, you came through. You acted the same as how you did throughout the entire Clone War, except not. The actions were all there, but there was a lost life to it. 

A lost love. 

And it was his fault. 

Though you were strong, you weren’t invincible. 

During the day you’d serve them. Got them food, made sure they rested, used every resource imaginable to find the little lost loved one. You tried to make them laugh and smile if you could or focus on the task at hand. Completing small missions to get by was his bane, because all Hunter wanted to do was find Omega, but you brought him back to the present, reeled in his reckless side when it got to be too much. You kept track of the inventory and how and when to push on. 

But every night he’d hear you silently cry yourself to sleep. 

You’d go and comfort Wrecker, then you’d offer the best gesture you could to him to encourage him, then you’d retire to your bed, broken down by the day. Tired, exhausted, empty. 

He saw it. And he caused it. 

And he hated himself for it. 

He’d lost you in a hasty, foolish sentence. One he’d said without much forethought. One he said because he was afraid if he’d said too much, or given any indication of the deeper feelings he had for you, you’d have rejected him and he’d lose you entirely. He thought he could be your friend. You deserved so much more. So much more than himself and what he could offer. He’d wanted to stay your friend so that way, even though he couldn’t have you, you’d be happy. He’d make sure that whoever he was, the man you’d marry would give you all the love he couldn’t. 

Turns out he was wrong.  

You did return his feelings and he broke you.

He should have gone after you, but he didn’t. He thought he’d have time. He thought he could do it when you’d return to the ship and he could sit down with you uninterrupted but he was wrong, so wrong. Echo arrived and in moments, though he didn’t know it, his life turned upside down. When the mission was declared, his focus turned to that. 

He should have talked to you. He should have let you know how he felt. 

But the manner of your hurt shifted. You were no longer hurt, but cold. 

Perhaps you didn’t want him to love you anymore. He didn’t know what to do. So much was wrong. So much that shouldn’t have been, was now his reality. 

In truth, you DID deserve more than him. Perhaps this was for the best. This hurt would pass and you’d meet the one you were supposed to be with. You could get over this fancy for him and live an actual life with someone else. 

The thought made his stomach churn and threatened to vomit, but perhaps, that’s what was meant to be. 

After all, sometimes to love someone you had to let them go. And Omega, she needed him right now, fully focused on nothing else but finding her. 

It was late in the night watch, Hunter sat alone staring at the broken pair of goggles and a plush toy that belonged to the child of the ship. His child, not by blood but by choice. 

Taken from him in a cruel twist of fate. 

He closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair. Hunter wasn’t normally one for crying but he felt close to it now. He didn’t know what to do, but he knew Omega took priority over himself. He HAD to find her. Bring her home. Oh Force, what was Hemlock doing to her?

He felt his head start to pound and his brow furrowed. 

It hurt so much to love. This was love, wasn’t it? After all, what would he know? All he knew of it was what was in the novels and holofilms…

Something cold touched his head and he jumped in surprise. Opening his eyes, he found you had taken a few steps back surprised, with a blanket and an ice pack in hand. 

It didn’t go unnoticed you’d had the scent of fresh tears on your hands. 

“I’m sorry, I thought you were in one of your uncomfortable sleep cycles.” You offered gently. “You looked like you had a headache so I brought you this.” You shook the ice pack. 

Hunter sat up and rubbed his head. “I…can’t sleep.”

He looked down. It was so hard to keep your gaze. His throat tightened and tears sprung against his will. All he could do was sigh, long and heavy. 

Hunter was silent, not knowing what to say. He tried opening his mouth a few times but closed it at every attempt, frustrated. 

You slowly drew near him, considerate as you always were. Giving him a chance to stop you if he wanted or needed, but he didn’t. You crouched down in front of him and took his hands. 

A shock of surprise sprung his head up immediately and sent a shiver through his body. His brain registered your hands were cold and instinctively he moved to warm them, covering them completely with his own. But his mind was fully focused on your face. 

Your eyes glittered with unshed tears and your mouth had a half, crooked smile. A ghost of the one you’d had before. But there was something in your gaze he’d missed, he’d longed for. 

It was ‘that’ look. 

You hadn't looked at him like that in a long time. 

There was a warmth and a love aflame. A gentleness that hadn’t been there these long past few weeks.  

If eyes were truly the window to the soul, he’d seen that the embers were dying, but not gone. 

You squeezed his hand. 

“We’ll find her. I promise.” 

There was such a conviction in your voice, determination. A rawness that almost freighted him. A testament to the power you had. The power of your will and spirit. The power of your determination. One of the reasons he loved you so much. One of the elements in your looks that he yearned to see again after missing it for so long. 

He squeezed your hands. 

“Thank you for everything.” He swallowed hard, voice now scratchy and sore. 

You nodded and stood, pulling your hands from his. You placed the pack on his forehead and placed the blanket on him in two swift motions and made to go. You were fast, but not too fast for him. You’d tried to retreat, but Hunter jumped and grabbed your arms, centering you to himself. 

A surprised look crossed your face and he saw you searching him, wondering. 

“We need to talk.”

You looked away, tears starting to gather again, a breath catching in your throat wanting to break free. 

Hunter cupped your face with his hand and slowly, softly turned your gaze back to him. 

“Please.”

You nodded, but then looked away again. 

“Ok, but not now.” Your voice was heavy and empty. That void look entered your eyes, extinguishing the flame that was there before. 

“No, you should get some sleep, you look exhausted. You’re always looking after us. Tonight, take care of yourself, yeah?” He rubbed his thumb against your cheek, whipping away a tear that escaped. “Tomorrow.”

You nodded. “Tomorrow.”  

Lifting the blanket you’d brought for him, Hunter placed it over your shoulders with a reassuring squeeze then turned back to his chair, cradling the ice pack to his forehead. 

Tomorrow came, but started off all wrong. Emergency lights flashed and sirens blared. The Marauder made an emergency landing on the treacherous mountainous planet below. The hyperdrive malfunctioned and threw you out of hyperspace. It was a tumultuous, uncontrolled landing but Hunter managed with minimal damage to the exterior of the ship. The haul was a little banged up, but other than that, the smoking hyperdrive was the focus of your concern.

There was no Tech to fix the ship now. You were on your own.

“Do you think you can fix it?” Hunter looked at you worriedly. You’d helped Tech plenty of times in the past. You considered yourself pretty capable with all the training you received from him. 

Taking a look around, you carefully considered. 

“I think so, but it’s going to take time. This superficial stuff I’m not too worried about. We’ll have to make port somewhere soon anyway for supplies. We’re low on everything.” You’d been looking at the inventory the last few days and the lists were concerning. “I think we have enough credits to get by until we can do a job and earn more.” You rubbed your forehead. “I’ve been running numbers on how to keep ourselves sustained without needing to distract ourselves from our mission with a whole bunch of side missions anymore. I think it’ll work but you’re going to have to trust me. But I digress. I’ll patch up the hyperdrive which seems to be the main problem. I’ve got a weird feeling about this place, I don’t want to be here too long. Weather might not hold out for extensive repairs either.”

“Alright, we’ll discuss this when I get back. I’ll scout the area and see what we’re dealing with.” Hunter turned to leave, then paused. Half looking back he spoke: “And, I do. Trust you, I mean.” 

With that he put his helmet on and shouted to Wrecker. 

“Keep her safe. I’ll be right back.”

It’d been an hour. And Hunter wasn’t back. 

Whipping the sweat from your forehead you heaved a big breath.

“I think that’ll do it Wreck. Where’s Hunt?” 

Wrecker looked nervous. “Not back yet.” 

You looked at your wrist chrono and raised your eyebrows in surprise. Highly unusual.

“Ok, I’ll go look for him. Protect the ship.” 

“We should stay together.” Wrecker added quickly, “I’ll come with you.”

“I would like that too but at this moment that’s a luxury we can’t afford. We have to split up.”

Wrecker groaned. “Bad things ALWAYS happen when we split up.”

You softened and patted his shoulder comfortingly. 

“I know, big guy, I know. But the less we argue, the sooner we get Hunt back.”

Wrecker paused and nodded. “Ok.” He sighed and took his place by the ramp of the ship. “And…..it’s good to hear you call Hunter, Hunt again…”he trailed off uncertainly, “but it’s kinda making me scared. You think he’s….?” 

Your heart clenched in realization. You didn’t think how your hurt would shed and affect others. “Oh Wrecker….” You started but he stopped you. 

“Aw Doc, I am just worried about ya. You two always meshed together, you know? So when you didn’t, and now get soft again…” He shook his head. “Get Hunter back, and everything will be ok, yeah?”

“Yeah, it will. I promise.” You started off your sentence quaking but with every word you found your conviction. It was time to go. 

“I hope you two can work things out. I always liked it that way, ya know?”

You smiled, “Yeah I do actually, and I did too.”

“Well, do you think that … whatever happened…you two can fix it?”

Your smile faltered a little bit but Wrecker didn’t see that. Really, only Hunter would have been the one to notice.

“I’ll do my best.”

With one last nod to Wrecker, you set out.

You weren’t exceptional at tracking but Hunter taught you a thing or two. 

It was time to bring Hunter home.

Hunter skirted the edge of the cliff carefully. His foot set a few loose rocks tumbling into the unknown. Knife unsheathed and corned against the endless void beneath him, he glared at his enemy. Hunter met these villains almost as soon as he left the ship. It didn’t take him long to realize their harmful intentions and led them away from the ship, hoping to buy you as much time as he could to fix the ship. He’d taken out ten of these bandits already, but this one was of a higher status, he could tell by the large hat he wore and more expensive weapons he possessed. He’d be more of a challenge but that would only make it more fun. 

Hunter growled and lifted his knife in the ready. Blood and sweat dripped from his face from the few scratches and scrapes he had. 

He was prepared for anything.

“Get away from him!” An agonized voice filled with terror screamed. 

Your voice. 

Hunter’s heart dropped to his stomach and for the first time since the crash, terror entered his veins. He was prepared for everything, except that.

Garnishing your blade, you swiped the air to show the mysterious stranger you were serious. “Leave him alone!”

Hunter’s throat closed up. You didn’t have your blaster, and while still decent with the blade, you weren’t ready for this yet. He hadn’t finished your training. 

“Meshla, no!” 

Hunter reached out, distracted only for a moment but a moment is all it took. In the second he tried to get in between you and the enemy, a kick to his stomach sent Hunter over the side

“Hunter!” You screamed after him in terror. 

What you didn’t see was the flip he made or how he grappled onto the rock. If only you had the enhanced senses he did, you might have heard his hard breathing, the uneven sob, and the continuous prayer that somehow you could live long enough for him to get to you. 

His heart pounded. He wanted to call for you but that’d only make things worse for you. He grunted as silently as he could. He had to get to you. 

He heard your angry grunts, the slices of knives through the air, missing their marks. He heard you yelling unintelligibly and savagely. The man’s gleeful laughter. 

Your painful cry.

No

Those were some of the longest seconds of his life. What happened? He tried to climb faster but the rock was so slippery.

Watching Hunter get shot. Finding him shot again in the same place all this time later by Cad Bane, and now seeing Hunter tumble over the edge was more than you could handle. Anger like you’d never felt it bubbling all over you, tingling your fingers and guiding your blade’s every movement with hardened focus.

No, you couldn’t lose him like this. You wouldn’t. The man was quick, practiced. But you’d had a good teacher. Now wasn’t the time to doubt. Sure, you wished your blaster had survived the raid on Ord Mantel but there was nothing you could do about that except replace it when you made port.

You tumbled, dived, parried. This demon wouldn’t win. He made a hit on your arm and you cried out. The evil, smug smile he had was enough to refocus you instantly. Jumping for him unexpectedly, you caught him by surprise. You pushed your entire body against his in a close roll.

And your blade found a home in his heart. 

Breathing hard, it took you a moment to realize…you’d won. You defeated him! Hunter would be so proud.

Hunter!

Diving for the cliff, you slid toward the edge. 

“Hunter? Hunter!”

Hunter looked up at you, face hidden behind his visor but all the emotions were spilling from his mouth. “Are you ok? Mesh’la, what the karking hells?”

“Grab my hand!” Ignoring him, you reached down. “I’ll pull you up.” 

Hunter clasped your hand but you let out a cry of agony. Collapsing in a heaping pile. You were shaking but your grip held firm.

“Mesh’la…” 

“Don’t you dare let go. Don’t you dare.” Your demand was dry and forceful, but fear spilled from every word. “Please.” Your plea was soft, broken.

“Alright.” He tightened his grip.

Tears streamed down your face as you panted, hulling him up. Hunter seemed so heavy. You’d done exercises like this before and it was a lot easier. Hunter seemed to notice your lack of strength too.

You pulled and heaved and scooted and rolled until you managed to get his body over the lump. Immediately, Hunter started his barrage on you in between heaving breaths of his own.

“What were you thinking? Don’t you know you could have gotten yourself killed?”

You got to your feet and brushed yourself off, head dizzy with emotion and adrenaline.

“Do you,” you panted, “have any idea what you did to me? Don’t start with me…”

“Oh honey, just wait until I get started—“ 

You turned to look at Hunter who also had gotten to his feet, the words registering, but sounding quite distant. Was he yelling? You weren't sure. Suddenly, your breath was knocked from your lungs and a sharp pain invaded your entire body. 

Falling to your knees, you clutched your side to find it wet and sticky, and warm. You didn't need to pull your hand away to look at it to know there was blood, yet that's what you did, and you were shocked nevertheless to find the red, sticky substance on your hands. Gasping with wide eyes, you missed Hunter’s cry of alarm.  

“You’re bleeding!”

Hunter ran over to you and caught you as you crumpled to the ground in pain. Gathering you to himself, he rested your body against his.

Tearing off his scarf from around his neck, Hunter pressed it to your wound.

“You’re losing so much blood.”

“Nah, I know exactly where it is. Here, there, and a little over there.”

“Not funny.”

“I thought it was.” you faintly chuckled. 

With a dark look, he cut the red fabric into strips and bound your abdomen tightly. 

“I’ll get you back to the ship as soon as I can, just hold on for me ok?” 

You nodded but your eyes now felt so heavy. You just wanted to sleep. 

Scooping you up, Hunter started at a full run. 

The bouncing hurt. Every pounding bounce sent fire mixed with ice through your body. Your head rolled back and your eyes shut.

“Hey, hey, cyare, look at me. Look at me! Don’t give up on me yet, please.” 

Hunter came in running. 

“Wrecker! Wrecker! Get the ship started, we’re leaving NOW!”

Wrecker didn’t miss a beat. He saw you dangling limpless in Hunter’s arms and dashed up the walkway. Wrecker tore through the room, doing the start up sequences as fast as he could then meeting Hunter in the gangway, he threw the med kit at him. 

Back in the cockpit, Wrecker took the controls. 

Placing you in his bed, Hunter slapped your face.

“I know you’re in there, wake up! Wake up! Don’t leave me now, I need you. I can’t do this without you. Omega is depending on you. You’re stronger than this, come on!”

Injecting you quickly with a stim and re-wrapping your wounds, Hunter frantically chaffed your wrists until your eyes fluttered open. 

“Hunter?” You were looking around, trying to sit up. 

“Hey, hey don’t get up.” He placed a hand on your forehead, then your pulse points. He felt you slowly but surely starting to equalize. “Just rest for a bit, ok? I’m going to stay right here if you need anything.” He pulled up a chair next to you. 

“I’m ok,” you smiled weakly, “I was so scared when I saw those tracks. I thought I’d lost you again. But you’re ok, and that’s all that matters to me.” You squeezed his hand, then let the darkness take you.

All was still and dark. The Marauder gently rocked in what would pass for the early hours of the morning, if there really could be a morning or night in space. 

All was still and quiet inside the Marauder. Wrecker was by the controls watching the ship’s course and motion beacons, Hunter was fast asleep, leaned over the bed and holding your hand. 

You on the other hand were restless. Buckets of sweat fell from your forehead. Dizzy and disoriented, even laying down, a nauseous feeling crept up your stomach into your throat. 

You wormed your hand out of Hunters, not wanting to wake him. It’d been too long since he’d gotten any sleep at all and at last the complete and utter exhaustion took him over. You pushed on the bed, attempting and failing to drag yourself up. 

You glanced at Hunter, considering only for a moment, then resurfaced your determination. No, you’d let him rest. You could do this. Grasping the blanket’s cocooning you, you attempted to untangle the heavy sheet entwining you. It was so heavy, suffocating. 

With a heaving breath, you pushed your feet off the bed and lunged your body forward.

You were standing. 

But as soon as you got up, you realized your mistake. The ship spun and the dull aches over your body were awakened. Your stomach’s pain blew its trumpet and your ears felt like balloons that were going to pop. You must have swallowed marbles because there was barely any room in your throat. 

Oh well, you could only push forward. 

Stumbling into the bathroom, you turned on the cold water. Perhaps that would help. 

The first thing Hunter noticed was his hand was cold and clammy. The lack of warmth left a devoid and empty feeling embedded with a nervous foreboding. 

Next came the darkness, which became a haze, and that haze turned into a bubble as he fought he was to consciousness. The bed in front of him was empty and Hunter could vaguely make out the things around him, noises indecipherable. He thought he heard trudging of feet scraping against the floor, the turning of a facet with the gush of water, then a loud crash, and thud with a BAM!

Instantly his body was alert. Dashing toward the source of the sound, he knew subconsciously what he’d find. Your body on the floor, sprawled out and drained. Your face was pale as death, eyes hollow. You didn’t look like this a few hours ago? 

“Mesh’la? mesh’la! what happened? Did you hit your head? Why are you up?” A thousand questions spilled from his mouth in worry. 

Worming his body behind yours, he gathered you up gently. You mumbled something that was lost even to his hearing. 

Concerned, Hunter removed his gloves, and placed them on your face. 

You leaned into his warmth, shivering, unable to get warm, yet your skin felt like fire to him. You were burning. Beads of sweat danced on your forehead as large as the tears that fell from your eyes.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” Cradling you now, he carefully wrapped himself around your body. This allowed you to curl in on yourself and tuck yourself in further to his chest.

“‘M sry.”

Kriff, you could barely speak. 

“Don’t be sorry. I got you now.”

“Hunter, I-I can’t hear you too well.”

A wall of realization hit him hard. Kark it, he knew what happened. 

The fever, the swelling, the loss of balance and your voice, not to mention your hearing? 

You had an infection. 

Fear invaded Hunter’s senses. He’d never been sick like this, having super immune genetics (one thing to thank the long necks for he supposed). But now, how could he help if he didn’t know what you were going through exactly? 

This wasn’t the first time you were sick like this. He remembered the story you told of your childhood, and how one winter, you fell through the ice which resulted in something like this. The incident left you vulnerable and weakened, and he worried about you. 

You were tough and fought it out. But what if you couldn’t fight this one off? Would your second brush with death be enough to claim you?

Tears swelled your eyes and poured onto your cheeks. Small sobs started to wrack your body as emotion overtook you.

“I…sorry…don’t burnden…’Mega, gotta find…” 

“Hey, hey, it’s ok, I got you, I got you. You’re not a burden. We’ll get you better then we’ll find her. Hey, I got you, it’s ok.” Hunter had no idea how he managed to sound so calm. He’d never seen you like this before and it terrified him. Your small sniffles and hiccups reminded him of a small child. Every nerve and essence of his being screamed at him to protect you. 

“I’ll get you some water, I’ll be back. You have to stay hydrated.”

“Stay, I’ll get it.”

Hunter looked up to find Wrecker looking down at the two of you with a sad look in his eyes. “You should be with her.” He disappeared then returned a few minutes later with a full flask of cold water. 

Hunter brought it to your lips, but you barely swallowed any before relinquishing your strength to an empty sleep, exhausted by the struggle. 

Silence bore down on the three of you as Hunter and Wrecker looked on while you slept an uncomfortable sleep.

“I knew we should have stuck together.” Wrecker said sadly at last, not looking at Hunter. “I told her I’d come with her…”

“It’s not your fault, Wreck.”

“Bad things happen when we split up, I told her that….”

“This is all my fault.” Hunter hung his head. “I—”

“That kind of talk isn’t going to help her, Hunt. Don’t even think that. She made up her own mind. She was scared for ya, Hunt. She even started calling you ‘Hunt’ again.”

Hunter looked up surprised, then back down towards you. You’d stopped that since that morning on Pabu. You’d been formal with him afterward. It was either Sargeant or Hunter. 

He shifted then lifted you in his arms, bringing you back to the bed. He set you down then ran his fingers through your damp hair, worry evident in his eyes. 

“We need to get her to a hospital, Wreck. I don’t know what to do…Without Tech…I’m really scared right now.”

Wrecker placed a large, comforting hand on Hunter’s shoulder. “Then we go. We’ll get her better, Hunt. Don’t worry. I think we have a few of those fake IDs left Tech made. We’ll make something work.”

Swallowing hard, Hunter nodded.

Instead of letting go, Wrecker’s grip tightened. In one swift motion, Hunter was enveloped in a hug. If he was being honest, he didn’t mind in the least. 

Hunter sat by you in silence as the ship flew through hyperspace toward the hospital, watching your fitful sleep. Your forehead was creased in pain and your mouth turned into a pout. One hand carefully stroked your sweat soaked hair, the other intertwined with yours.

The waiting was the worst part. Not being able to do anything to help or accept, fate could only take its course and he could only stand by and watch. The worst enemies were the ones he couldn’t protect you from and he hated that. He couldn’t fight the infection with his blade, or take away your pain by shooting the cause with a blaster bolt. 

He leaned his forehead against yours and swallowed a sigh. Was this agony what you'd felt when he'd been shot? He remembered what delicate care you took of him. You'd been more than thoughtful, and tried not to show your concerns but he saw them anyway; just as he could always see you. But there was something else there that at the time he hadn't realized. And now he hoped he hadn't realized it too late. 

“You asked me before if I’d settle down like Shep asked……………and in my dreams, yes. I always wanted to, even before he asked, with you. It was you, it was always and only you.”

Silence was your response. 

 “Please, don’t leave me now. I already lost the others, I can’t lose you too.”

The steady rhythm of your heart was promise enough for him right now, he had to hold onto hope. 

“We can take it slow. Take our time. We don’t have to rush into anything but please, please stay with me and I’ll be yours for the rest of our lives. That’s my promise to you. I–I love you. Always have, always will.”

Perhaps if he’d hadn’t been so tired, he would have noticed the slight squeeze of his hand you have him. 

Hunter walked into the hospital carrying you wearing civilian clothing hoping he looked more inconspicuous than he felt. He approached the nurse at the front desk. 

“Excuse me, my wife needs help. She had an accident…”

“Chain codes.” the nurse said flatly without looking up but holding out her hand. 

Hunter fished them out and gave them to her. 

“It’s urgent, she needs to see a doctor ri–”

“Just sit down over there and the nurse will be with you shortly.”

“But she needs a doctor NOW!”

The nurse glanced up annoyed. 

“Keep that up and she’ll have to wait a full rotation, buddy.”

Hunter glared but didn’t say a word. Normally he would have fought back harder but with your life on the line, he couldn’t find it in himself to do it. So he did as he was bid, and took a seat in the waiting area. 

You blinked your eyes open with a smile. 

“Hey Handsome.” 

You reached up for his face, and he took your hand in his and gave it a quick kiss. 

“Hey,” Hunter kept his voice low, giving you a quick smile before making a quick survey of the area, “to catch you up real quick, we’re married. You’re my wife and we took you here after an accident on our farm. You’re going to be ok, ok?” 

His eyes darted across your face, looking, searching, for any indication that his words would come true. Even here and now on the brink of being saved, he felt like you’d suddenly vanish and be taken from him. 

He didn’t know what he expected from you, a nod of recognition maybe? But he didn’t get that. Instead, you chuckled. 

“Married? Already? So much for wanting to take it slow, Hunter.” 

To his surprise, a laugh burst from his lips, a smile replacing the worry for a second. He shook his head. Even now, you were trying to look out for him, making him laugh while you were the one who needed help. 

“Always looking out for me, aren’t you?” His voice was warm and full. The deepness of his voice like chocolate on your sore ears, not that he’d know that of course. All he could hope for was that you could hear the depth of love and gratitude he had in such a few words. 

You smiled, “always have, always will, I promise you that.” 

Hunter heard the nurse approach and looked up, only to be faced with a jaw dropping phenomenon. 

“How can I help you today? Wait…Hunter?”

It was Nala, your old classmate.

“Nala?” Hunter repeated, stunned. “You work here?”

“Yes…” her eyes drifted down to you. 

An unsettled feeling came over Hunter. You hadn’t been in touch with anyone since Order 66. Whose side was Nala on?

He didn’t have to wonder long when her face went white and she dropped down on one knee to be at your level. 

“What do you need? Let me assess her and see what I can do.”

Nala came running up carrying various vials and all but shoved them in Hunter’s pockets. 

“Give her this as soon as possible. It’s safer for all of you if you just take it and administer it on your ship. I got word of Imperials coming here shortly. I’ve listed instructions on how to give it to her safely. You should go before someone recognizes you and hands you over. Goodbye, and good luck. Take good care of my friend. When she gets better, tell her to give me a call!”

With that, Nala turned and left, trying her hardest not to give an impression of concern. 

Back on the ship, Hunter did as instructed. After making sure you were carefully placed in bed and made as comfortable as possible, he enlisted Wrecker’s help as soon as they’d jumped to hyperspace. Hunter knew Wrecker wasn’t going to like it, but there wasn’t another way. 

You’ll want to give this one to her first. It’ll regulate her body so she can take the following medications. It’ll help her breathe easier and adjust to what’s coming…it won’t appear so right away so don’t worry. You’re going to need to give this to her in quick succession so don’t wait to see the effects.

Hunter injected the hypo into your arm. 

This one is the IV with the antibiotics. Get her hooked up quickly and make sure the bag is drained before you take it out. 

He rubbed your arm and inserted the needle.

This one, inject into her chest near her heart. This one will hurt the most. 

This one, he couldn’t do. 

“This…is going to hurt.”

“I know.” You stared at the ceiling, trying to catch your breath and collect your courage. “It’s ok.”

Of course you knew, you were a medic. He would have cringed at his own words, but he couldn’t help it. His own fear mocked him and he wasn’t ashamed of it. Pain was pain, and nothing could make him like it or want that for you. All he could do was prepare you in any way he could. 

Your breathing was labored, huffing your breaths, greedy for air, gluttonously swallowing in as much as your lungs would let you. 

“Tell me.” You looked into his eyes, trying to focus, “tell me about it? I can’t seem to remember anything from our big day. What happened? Who was there? How did it go….How did I look?” You huffed a little laugh at the last question, “nevermind, don’t answer that.” Your laugh caused a coughing fit to follow. 

Hunter gripped you firmer as your body racked, fear unmasked in his eyes. 

Shutting your own, you tried to center yourself. 

“Crosshair probably made trouble, didn't he. He and Wreck competed to see who could eat the most cake and got sick, right?” Your voice was nothing other than a whisper, but Hunter could still pick up the dream-like tilt in your voice. The little smile as if it was a real memory, breaking across your lips. 

“Of course, would you expect anything less?”

Another chuckle turned into a gasp of air. 

Hunter kept his gaze on you as he spoke, his hand on your cheek facing him so you wouldn’t have to see what was to come. Rubbing gentle circles in your cheek and wiping away tears, he tried to speak without a shake in his voice. He didn’t know if he succeeded, but ever after that, he’d remember the images burned in his mind both, of the story he was telling and the raw reality of your pain. 

“Tech filmed the entire thing; we’ll have to rewatch it; would you believe Echo had more champagne to drink than anyone? He was so happy the entire night. He was also the only one next to Wrecker to cry.”

You smiled through gritted teeth.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You looked beautiful all dressed in white…” he stumbled over his words now as Wrecker garnished the needle, “your dress dazzled with little jewel thingies and you liked spinning in it because it reminded you of a waterfall or a butterfly’s wing. I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. And when you walked toward me, I was a mess, because I knew I was the luckiest man in the world, and I couldn’t ever have imagined you more beautiful.”

You swallowed hard. 

“Omega couldn’t stop smiling or singing; and when the music at the Pabu sunsets starts and the orange sun starts setting in the sky, it hit you just right and…”

You screamed as muffled of a scream as you could, but it rang in Hunter’s head so loud it bounced around until he felt like he was going to be sick.  

“Aaand, and, when the sun set, we resaid our vows under the stars, just you and me. Always, just you and me. I’ve got you, it’s ok.”

Your eyes rolled back and all went dark.

Breathing never felt so sweet. You smiled, feeling like you could laugh and cry at the same time. The pain was gone and you felt great! Energy was surging, and life felt beautiful again. Despite the illness, you remembered everything that happened with vivid accuracy. Though your eyes were closed, your mind was very awake and registered everything in perfect memory.

Not just the pain, but the sweet moments too. Hunter taking such good care of you, his poor fear and concern, the thoughts he confessed because he thought you couldn't hear.

You felt the urge to stretch but couldn't move. Opening your eyes and looking around, the sight made your heart melt. Hunter was curled up half beside and half behind you. His body was curled in around yours, holding you as if he feared when he woke, you wouldn't be there. 

Your heart was gripped by the softness of the gesture and you didn't want it to end.

You reached your hand up, running your fingers down his face and neck. The touch was enough to wake him. He stirred, then jolted with realization.

“You're awake!!!” Tears gathered in his eyes as he cupped your face with both his hands. “You're ok.” He smiled and swallowed so hard you could hear it. You embraced him, burying your face in his neck.

“I love you.” 

You froze. You didn't expect him to actually confess to you while you were awake. Hunter sensed your hesitancy and started to pull away, but before he could move an inch, you were grabbing him toward yourself again. 

“I love you, too. So much.”

“Can…we talk? I can't wait anymore.”

“Of course.”

Hunter turned shy. He found his hands extremely interesting as he fiddled with the blanket rim. His face turned red and he tripped over his words.

“I only said what I did because besides you….I wouldn't want to marry any other woman. Who would I even marry…if it wasn't you?”

He paused briefly before continuing.

“I always felt like you deserved way better than me…I can't offer you anything but myself and that's not much of a gift.”

“Hunter! No! You—” 

He gave you a sheepish look and cut you off.

“And I'm so sorry for everything that happened, for how I hurt you. I should have gone to you sooner, I should have…”

Now it was your turn to cut him off, but instead of with words, you captured his mouth with yours in a kiss 

You felt his shock, which made you smile, and soon he joined and returned your soft show of love, holding you even closer than before.

“You scared me.” Hunter said, kisses becoming needier. 

“You scared me first!” You countered, meeting his veracity. “More than once!”

When you both stopped for breath, you settled back in his embrace. 

“Hunter, you're all I could ever need or want. The gift of yourself is more precious than anything or anyone in the galaxy, and that's more than I deserve. All I've ever wanted was the war to end so we could have a family of our own, your brothers all be near us if they're not with us while we raise Omega and children of our own.”

Hunter's face darkened. 

“I wasn't strong enough to protect you or keep this family together. I lost Omega.”

“You didn't lose her, Hunter. She made a choice. She didn't want to lose you, and neither did I. You don't control the galaxy or have some responsibility for everything that happens. It's ok to breathe, Hunt, and let go. All we can do is move onward and face the galaxy together, just like we always do.”

Hunter nodded, the shadow slowly falling from his face, replaced with something gentler. 

“And that story I told before, about you in the white dress?”

“Yeah?” You blushed sheepishly, recalling with a bubbling laugh trapped inside your chest. 

“What do you say we make that real?” Leaning closer, he whispered in your ear, “I want to see you all in white, for real. I want to be yours, only yours, forever. I want to have a family, with you and only you. My brothers can all live close by and we can all be together. We can raise Omega the way she deserves to be raised…and I can love you, the way you deserve to be loved.”

“Yes! Oh yes! My sergeant, I am yours and only yours, now and forever!”

Filled with new determination, you smiled even wider, gripped his hand and got out of bed.

“Come on, now, love, let's go get our kid. Time to bring our family home. Time to start healing and growing.”

"The Empire be warned, we're coming."

Dividers by @stars-n-spice @ve-ti-ver and @djarrex

#I gave Hunter's scarf a fate #We now know what happened to it #It deserved a story #Hunter's scarf is important and we recognize that here #sergeant hunter x you #hunter x you #hunter x reader #hunter #the bad batch #tbb hunter #star wars #tbb wrecker #tbb crosshair #tbb tech #tbb omega #tbb echo #star wars the bad batch #clone fic gift exchange #TBBE24

[isaidonyourknees]

The Stakeout

Crosshair x f!reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Prompt: “you’ve gone to far this time”

Summary: Sent to gather information on a potential separatist spy, you’re partnered with Crosshair to watch your target from above. Pairing you with Crosshair made sense at first, but after spending two weeks in a small room with him, you’re just about ready to snap.

Warnings: NSFW! Minors DNI. Smut, fingering, unprotected p in v, swearing.

A/N: hi! Another story for the @cloneficgiftexchange I decided to try something new by writing some smut. I’ve never written anything like this before so hopefully it’s alright. I was also aiming for enemies to lovers but it turned into something a lot softer. I wrote this for @heavenseed76 I really hope you enjoy it!

At first the pairings made perfect sense. The mission was to gather intel on a potential separatist spy from afar. So you had split into three teams of two.

With Hunter’s tracking abilities and Wreckers need for action, they were best suited for following your target from the ground - listening into conversations, watching what was bought and sold.

Tech and Echo were to remain on the marauder, which was parked just outside of the small beach town, tasked with monitoring comm channels and keeping in contact with command. If a quick getaway was needed then you also wanted Tech in the pilots seat.

And with Crosshair’s eyesight and sniper skills, and your patience and attention to detail, it made sense that the two of you were paired together to watch from above, monitoring your targets larger movements around the town.

Two weeks into sharing a single room with Crosshair was starting to make you wish you two didn’t make such a good pairing. The man was insufferable. He didn’t pick up after himself, leaving clothes and wrappers littered around the room. He was always grumbling under his breath about one thing or another. And his stupid toothpicks. It made you furious every time he used the stupid things to point at you as he talked.

But the real reason you were struggling with this mission was because despite all the ways he got on your nerves, Crosshair held all your affections. You cared for him more deeply than you should. And being caged in a single room with him for the past two weeks was wearing you thin. With each minute that passed your feelings were getting harder and harder to control.

Each time he silently handed you a ration bar, reminding you to eat, each time he quietly joked with you as you watched the marketplace below you while sharing snacks he had stolen from the vending machine in the hallway, each time you fell asleep by the window and woke up tucked in bed, each time he showed the quiet way he cares has your heart racing and a warm feeling spreading within your chest. He seemed cold and cruel on the surface, but if you knew where to look, Crosshair was a big softie and it had you melting for him.

With each day that passed, you were getting closer and closer to doing something stupid, something that will certainly leave your heart shattered.

Something like grabbing his stupidly handsome face and kissing him. Which is exactly what you did.

•~•~•

It was approaching two weeks of your stakeout. Two weeks of sharing the small, crappy room with Crosshair.

The marketplace below you was quiet, the afternoon rush having come and gone. The vendors were in their final few hours of their shifts before they would be shutting up for the night. Your forehead is pressed to the glass. You know that the target isn’t here. Hunter and Wrecker had commed you earlier, updating you that they had followed the target back to the room she was renting and it appeared that she wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon. It was completely pointless for you to be staring out of the window but you and Crosshair were instructed to keep round the clock surveillance in case Hunter and Wrecker miss anything. You hum a mindless tune to keep your mind occupied as you watch an elderly woman purchase her groceries.

“Stop humming” Crosshair huffs.

“No.” Your response is dry and you continue humming just a little bit louder than before.

“Stop. Focus on the task.”

“I am focusing. What do you think I’m doing?” You snap. He always had something to complain about.

“I think you’re watching that woman buy her dinner instead of the hotel across the square.”

You feel your face flush slightly at being caught. Curse his stupid enhanced eyesight.

“What woman?” You grumble, but it’s halfhearted and not very convincing. He sighs loudly and shuffles off the bed he was resting on. He drags the second chair over and positions it next to you. You unstick your forehead from the window to look at him, ignoring the fact that there’s probably a red mark on your head, to give him a questioning look.

“If you’re bored you won’t focus properly,” is all he says in explanation. You nod along.

“So what do you propose?” You ask. He doesn’t respond and your annoyance begins to creep in again. You huff and scan the small crowd of shoppers and vendors below you.

“See that blue twi-lek?” You ask, pointing the man out. Crosshair leans forward slightly, studying the man closely.

“What about him?”

“And see that vendor there? The guy with the glasses and pink hair?”

“Yes.”

“Well the twi-lek man definitely has feelings for the vendor. He’s there just about once a day and he always selects an object at random, not studying the produce like other shoppers. He also stays to talk with the vendor longer than anyone else,” you explain.

“Stop loosing focus” Crosshair snaps.

“I’m not! I’m taking in the square as a whole and therefore I notice the other people in it as well” you defend. Crosshair is silent for a moment.

“How do you know?” He asks. You shrug.

“I don’t. Obviously. I’m taking what I’m seeing and making something up to go with it. You have a go.”

Crosshair doesn’t say anything, but that doesn’t surprise you.

“I think the vendor is interested in the twi-lek as well. But he’s got a kid and he’s worried that it’ll scare the twi-lek away. It won’t” you continue your story. You go quiet for a moment, studying the crowd.

“That little girl keeps stealing from that particular fruit vendor” you say, pointing the two out. Crosshair doesn’t respond but he follows your gaze to see who you’re talking about and you smile to yourself. “She only does it because the vendors little sister makes fun of her at school.”

“That man by the herbal store,” Crosshair points out. You seek out the man he’s talking about and find a neatly dressed man’s pacing and muttering. You hum your acknowledgment and you feel Crosshairs gaze flicker to you for a moment.

“He’s going to propose tonight.”

You turn to look at him and give him a surprised look.

“I didn’t pick you for a romantic Cross,” you tease.

“I’m not,” he scoffs. “I saw him buy the ring when we first arrived.”

“Well who’s he proposing too?” You ask.

“How should I know” he huffs in annoyance.

“Make something up” you prompt. He’s quiet for a long moment. You’re just about to come up with a new story yourself when he finally speaks up.

“The girl who grew up next door from him. Their parents are friends so they’ve known each other since they were little, but he didn’t really notice her until she helped him get over his first heartbreak when they were fifteen.”

You turn to look at him again, studying his face, but he keeps it in his neutral scowl. You know that he can feel your gaze on him, but he ignores you. The story is sweet and romantic and a compete surprise coming from Crosshair. You can feel your heart beat pick up slightly. Crosshair could be romantic when he wanted and it only deepens your already overflowing feelings for him. He finally spares you a glance and you realise you’ve been staring at him. You clear your throat.

“Which holo-novel did you get that one from?” You gently knock his shoulder with yours in your attempt at teasing him, but it feels awkward and you internally cringe.

“Fine then I won’t play your little game.”

You pout at him playfully but it softens into a smile.

“You just surprised me is all. Didn’t think you had it in you Cross.” You hesitate before you continue, not wanting to risk overstepping. “I like you like this.”

He turns away from the window and looks at you. You’re already watching him. The two of you spend a moment just studying each other. Crosshair breaks it first, leaning forward to gently run his thumb over the still lingering mark on your forehead from leaning on the window earlier. He smooths his thumb across your skin, as if he’s trying to wipe away the faint redness. It’s soothing and soft and oh so tender.

His face is so close to yours, your breaths mingling together. He makes eye contact with you, his hand still on your face, and there’s a gorgeous warmth in his eyes and you just can’t control your emotions anymore.

You bring your hands up to his face and lean in, closing the gap between the two of you. The kiss you give him is sweet and tender, mirroring his previous actions. His hand on your face moves to the back of your head as he kisses you back. A glorious warmth fills your chest.

It’s quickly erased a moment later, however. Crosshair pulls back sharply, leaning as far back in his chair, as if to get away from you.

That sweet warmth turns into burning embarrassment. You’ve ruined everything now.

“I’m so sorry. I should’ve asked. I’ve overstepped and-“

“Don’t.”

You stop talking and look at him, waiting to see what else he has to say. But he doesn’t say anything. Typical.

“Cross-“

“Just don’t do it again.”

Kriff.

You can feel your heart shatter. You’ve read it all wrong. He doesn’t feel the same.

“I’m sorry. I thought you liked me. I misread the situation and I should have asked. I’m sorry Crosshair.” You’re rambling, but you don’t know what else to do. You feel bad. You’ve put him in a situation he probably never thought he’d be in.

“I do like you.” He says it simply, like it’s glaringly obvious. Like he didn’t just tell you to never kiss him again.

“What?” Your brain is taking too long to catch up. “Then why…” you trail off.

“It’s you that doesn’t like me” he states plainly. You’re still confused, but it melts into annoyance and a bit of anger.

“Crosshair- what?” You question. “Of course I like you! I wouldn’t have kissed you if I didn’t like you.” He shakes his head.

“Stop it. You don’t.” He tells you. Your anger really starts to simmer. Who was he to tell you how you felt.

“Don’t tell me how I feel,” you snap at him. “Don’t tell me that I don’t like you as if I didn’t just risk our entire relationship to kiss you. Like I haven’t pined after you for months. Like you didn’t catch my attention as soon as I joined this team.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You’re both furious and flabbergasted. Your mouth is opening and closing like a fish as you struggle to find the words to express your fury. Crosshair speaks before you can find them.

“You don’t actually like me. I’m just your chance to prove you were a little rebellious. That you slept with someone other than the vanilla partner you’ll end up with. You’ll tell the story of the daring few months you spent with me at your girls night to gain a few gasps. Ultimately, I’m just a quick fling to get it out of your system before you settle down for a quiet, boring life.”

He says it all plainly, his voice dry and lacking any real emotion. He says it as if he’s describing the weather.

You finally find your voice again and you just snap.

“You’ve gone too far this time, alright! This isn’t just a fling to - to ‘get it out my system’. This isn’t some attention seeking rebellious act or a story to laugh about with some boring date or partner in the future. What I feel for you is real. Do you want to know how I know this?”

“Pray tell.”

“Because I hate it! I hate the way you make me feel! I hate your stupid voice and your stupid comments. I hate your toothpicks and I hate the way you glare at me. I hate that you’re so charming without even trying and I hate the quiet ways you care for me. I hate you!”

You pant as you try to catch your breath. You stare at him but he gives no indication that he’s going to say anything. You hate how he speaks when you don’t want him to and is silent when you desperately need him to speak. You huff in annoyance, but all the fight has left you.

“I hate you so much and yet… here I am, yearning for you.”

He moves so quickly, you almost don’t register it until he’s in front of you. He grabs your face in both hands, and he kisses you. Fiercely. It’s deep and passionate and desperate. It takes you a moment to respond, but when you do you kiss him back just as hard.

He starts walking you backwards, his lips never leaving yours, until you feel your back press against a wall. It’s no longer just his lips and hands on you as he presses his body onto yours. You can feel all of him - his hard chest, his hips, his strong thighs - and yet it’s not enough. You need more.

He breaks the kiss, but he doesn’t move away from you. He studies your face for a moment before he speaks.

“I’m yours whenever you need me,” he murmurs in your ear, his lips brushing your earlobe before he begins tracing a path of soft kisses down your neck. Your breath stutters as you try to speak.

“I need you now Crosshair. I always need you.” You let out a small moan as his teeth run over your pulse point. He focuses on this spot, sucking and nipping until he’s satisfied with the mark he’s left behind.

“Tell me what you want, doll” he says, pulling away from your neck to look at you. You whine and turn your face away from him. He makes a disappointed sound as he gently grabs your chin to turn your face back towards him. “None of that now. Prove you can handle me. Look at me as you tell me what you want.”

He’s wearing that insufferable smirk. The one that makes you want to slap him and kiss him at the same time. It’s the stupid smirk that makes you push him off you and backwards until the back of his knees is hitting the bed. You push him down before straddling his lap. He doesn’t believe you can take him, but you are more than happy to prove him wrong.

“First, I want this off” you say as you begin mouthing at his neck, your fingers slipping under the hem of his shirt, lightly tugging the material upwards. He leans back slightly to allow you to slide his shirt further up his body and you take your time as you graze your fingers over his newly exposed skin. You drop the shirt carelessly on the ground, unable to tear your eyes or hands away from his gorgeous golden skin for very long. You trace your fingers over his chest and abdomen.

“See something you like?” His voice has a teasing lilt to it. You lift your gaze back up to his dark eyes. You can’t help your cheeky smile.

“It’ll do.” You add a small shrug to add effect.

“Well in that case-“ he moves you off him and gets up, walking away from you, giving you a wondrous view of his back.

“Crosshair don’t you dare!” You whine.

“That’s what I thought” he smirks. He stands in front of you and he hooks his fingers under your shirt. He stills though, silently asking for your permission. Something in your chest melts a little before you nod. You expect him to rip the fabric from you, instead he takes his time, brown eyes taking in every inch of your skin that’s exposed to him. Your heart races in your chest as he takes you in.

Once the offending garment is finally on the floor somewhere you reach up and grab his face, pulling him down to you in a searing kiss. Your emotions bubble under your skin and you need him. He runs his hands over your waist as you kiss, taking in the feel of you under him. Wanting more, you unclasp your bra, tugging it off without breaking the kiss. Crosshair groans into the kiss and you drink up the sound, wanting to hear it over and over again.

Crosshair pulls away, his eyes fixating on your chest. He brushes a finger over a nipple and your breath catches in your throat.

“Kriff look at you” he mutters as if he’s speaking to himself. Then he’s leaning down and wrapping his mouth around your nipple, his fingers lightly tugging at your other one.

“Cross” you keen, arching your back to press your chest further into his warm mouth. You feel the low groan he makes.

“Say my name like that again” he murmurs into your skin, and you oblige him as he switches sides. He moves, sucking a mark onto your chest, before he presses a sweet kiss to it. Your breath hitches and you feel your heart skip a beat. Here he is marking you as his before he’s switching to become soft and gentle.

He doesn’t remain at your chest for very long. He continues to trail down your body, licking and sucking gently as he goes, until he’s hooking his fingers under the waistband of your pants.

“Are you alright with this?” He asks, looking up at you from between your thighs. The sight of him sends heat burning through you.

“Crosshair please” you whine. You sound absolutely desperate, but you don’t care. Whatever it takes to get him to finally undress you.

His eyes darken at your words and he’s tugging your pants and underwear down in one swoop, shoving them on the floor so he can finally get a look at you. You feel a little self conscious under his gaze for a moment but he takes it all away when he looks back up at you again.

“You’re stunning” he rasps, moving back up your body to kiss you deeply again, his tongue exploring your mouth expertly. You run your hands over his back, taking him in, but they quickly move to grip his shoulders when his fingers swipe through your folds. You gasp into his mouth and he pulls away so he can hear the noise you make as he presses a single long finger into you.

“Look at you,” he groans, “so wet and tight and making the prettiest noises for me.” You moan at his words, but also the rough sound of his voice as he starts thrusting his finger, searching for the little spot that’ll have you seeing stars. You let out a cry when he brushes over it, clenching tightly around his finger. He smirks at your reaction before inserting a second finger.

“You feel so good” you groan, loving the stretch from his fingers alone. He picks up his pace, fingers moving rapidly, leaving you moaning and squirming beneath him. You can feel your release building and building. You’re almost there, you just need a little more to get you there.

“Crosshair” you plead, not quite able to find the words to convey how close you are. He can tell though, the way you squeeze and flutter around his fingers is indication enough. He presses his thumb to your neglected clit, tracing short tight circles over it as he leans down, mouth brushing at your ear.

“Come on doll, show me how gorgeous you look coming around my fingers.”

His simple command muttered in his rough voice sends you flying over the edge. You grip at his shoulders desperately as you clench around his fingers. He continues his movements, working you through your orgasm until your grip on him loosens. He places sweet kisses along your neck as he removes his fingers and lets you come down from your high.

You pant a little as you catch your breath, but as Crosshair shifts above you, you feel his length brush over your thigh and you feel your arousal and need growing again. As he continues to lather your neck with kisses, your hands move to his pants, quickly unbuttoning them. Just as you go to push them down you pause, looking up at the man above you.

“Can I touch you?” You ask. Crosshair lets out a groan, leaning down to press his forehead against yours.

“Please” he murmurs. You push his pants down enough to get them out of the way before you take his hard length into your hand. He’s long and oh so pretty. Your mouth waters at the sight of him. You want nothing more than to flip him over and to taste him.

“Next time doll,” Crosshair says as if he can read your mind. “As nice as having your mouth on me would be, I need to be in you. Now.”

You pump his length a few times, which earns you a groan through gritted teeth and a warning look from him. You smile up at him sweetly which he chuckles darkly at.

“Looks like I underestimated you, doll. Looks like you can handle me just fine.” He grabs your hands, pinning them above your head with one hand, the other making quick work of shoving his pants off before lining the head of his cock up to your entrance.

His movements were so swift and effortless it leaves you breathless and speechless for a moment. He doesn’t give you long to gather your wits before he is pushing into you with a smooth thrust. It completely knocks your breath out of you. You try to move your hands, needing desperately to grab hold of something, anything to ground yourself, but his grip on your wrists remains firm. You gasp as you clench around him, trying to adjust to his size.

“Fuck Crosshair! You’re so big. You’re s’good” you slur. He gives you his insufferable smirk, but you can’t find it in yourself to care at the moment.

“My babydoll is drunk on my cock and I haven’t even moved yet” Crosshair teases, pride written across his features. This sobers you up a little.

“Just shut up and move” you grumble. Crosshair kisses you, remaining annoyingly still inside you. You whine into the kiss. When he pulls away, he begins to pull out.

“You’re lucky I like you,” he says before he thrusts back into you, beginning a steady pace. You cry out at his deep thrusts and his quick pace right off the bat.

“That’s right. Let all the neighbours hear just how good I’m making you feel.” He changes his angle slightly as he says this, hitting your sweet spot deliciously, causing you to moan loudly as you clench around him.

“Only you make me feel this way Cross,” you manage to stutter out, brain going hazy with the pleasure he’s giving you.

“Such a good girl for me. So wet and tight, all for me.” You whine at the praise, feeling the pressure of your release starting to build. He pushes into you harder, feeling your walls flutter around him. He presses his thumb to your clit, circling it intently.

“You’re close, I can feel it. Feel you clenching and fluttering around me. You feel divine doll. Now show me what you look like as you come on my cock. Let me hear all the pretty little sounds you’ll make.”

His words murmured in his husky voice send you over the edge. He lets go of your hands and they grip at his shoulders desperately, nails digging into his skin as you cry out his name over and over again, lost in the pleasure he is giving you. Just as you’re beginning to come down from your high his hips begin to stutter.

“So good for me. You’re so good for me. Where-?” He asks hurriedly.

“Inside. Please” you beg. He groans deeply as he gives a few more thrust before you can feel the warmth of him spilling into you. He collapses onto you for a moment while the two of you catch your breaths. The weight of him is comforting and you can feel his heart beating against your chest. A content warmth settles in your chest as you draw aimless shapes across his back. The gesture seems to bring him back to his body. He pulls out of you and rolls off you, causing you to whine at the loss. He chuckles as he pulls you into him, wrapping you up in his arms.

“Don’t worry doll, I’m not going anywhere.”

He brings the blanket up over the both of you and you feel so safe and warm. You bask in the feeling for a moment.

“I meant everything I said you know.” Your voice is quiet, laced with sleepiness. “I really do want you. If you’ll have me.” Crosshair doesn’t respond, but his grip around you tightens.

You’re fast asleep when he finally does respond, his words a gentle whisper into your hair.

“I am yours entirely.”

#star wars #the bad batch #Crosshair #tbb Crosshair #Crosshair x reader #clone fic gift exchange

[orbitalmirror]

Grand Days and Small Gestures

Pairing: Hunter x Reader

Word Count: 9152

Warnings: Language, canon-typical violence.

Prompt: “Why can’t you just be normal?”

Summary: You didn’t expect to end up in Separatist prison cell. You definitely didn’t expect to be accidentally rescued by a squad of clones.

A/N: This fic is a gift for @ladyanidala, who gave me SUCH a fun prompt!! I’m gonna be honest with you, this got rather out of hand…I’m not used to writing romance, and then this pesky little thing called plot got involved. It’s not the most traditional reader-insert fic, but I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! It was my first foray into a second-person POV, and it was so fun that it inspired me to start dreaming up a (possibly fluffier?) sequel. Thank you so much to @cloneficgiftexchange for creating this event!

Today isn’t the worst day of your life.

Granted, the bar is pretty low; the worst day of your life was probably that time you were undercover in a sect of fascist insurrectionists on Brentaal IV, and you discovered that your encrypted comm was irreparably fried. You were stuck in that hellhole for nine weeks before somebody back in the Corellian intelligence HQ thought, “You know, maybe she didn’t suddenly go dark on purpose.” By the time they came to rescue your ass, you had finally decided to quit this job and go become a baker or something. Then you got back to Corellia and…didn’t quit. Didn’t even draft your resignation letter. Nothing in the galaxy makes you feel quite as alive as espionage does—what else could you do?

So now you sit on the concrete floor of a detention cell, your tailbone aching and your fingers stiff from the chill, and you remind yourself, today isn’t the worst day of your life. The idea spins itself into a sort of mantra: It could be worse. It could be worse. It could be worse.

Your stomach growls in dissent.

Hours have passed since the battle droids caught you, and you don’t know why it’s taking so long for a real Separatist officer to arrive for an interrogation. Clearly there are no living beings in the compound, which means clearly your intel was wrong. The datapad you’re after is too valuable to leave in the clumsy, three-fingered hands of droids. The B2s guarding your cell left about twenty minutes ago, and you’ve spent the past ten minutes trying to pry open a panel on the wall with your little transparisteel knife, the only weapon of yours that wasn’t found by the droids and their metal detector.

The panel finally pops off, and you almost groan in dismay. The only things visible in the wall are a thick bundle of electrical wires and some pipes. The pipes look too sturdy to be damaged by you and your little knife, and anyway, flooding your cell probably wouldn’t do anything except electrocute you. Cutting the wires might cut off electricity to your cell door, but that’s just as likely to leave the door locked as it is to open it, and it also might electrocute you. You’re no technician. It isn’t worth the risk.

It could be worse.

The passing of time is almost visceral now, like the ticking of an analog clock in your ribcage. You shove the panel back on the wall. Time for the ceiling. The cell’s metal bench—you can’t even call it a cot—is just tall enough that you can reach up to pry around the edges of the ceiling tiles. You start on the one in the corner, hoping that there’s a ventilation shaft above it. The left edge is just starting to come loose when—

Click.

Darkness.

That definitely wasn’t your doing.

Half a second passes, and then a loud pneumatic hiss heralds the miraculous opening of your cell door, and the adrenaline really kicks in. Has someone finally come to collect you? But why…

You listen. No footsteps.

You hop down from the bench to peek out the cell door. Nothing to see, either.

Another hiss startles you, and you dart into the hall just as the door suddenly closes again, deafening in the eerie silence. The overhead lights are still off, and only the weak blue emergency lights lining the corridor offer you any sense of direction.

You’re free, and nobody is around.

Well, this just got interesting.

~~~

As you make your way through the base, you quickly realize that something very strange is going on. That something strange is probably best exemplified by the droids lying in scrap heaps all over the place, most of them burned through with blasters, but some of them dismantled in a way that you can’t even identify. Whoever or whatever is in this base with you, you do not want to meet them.

So, of course, you meet them less than ten minutes after escaping your cell.

You’ve picked up a blaster from a fallen B1, and are carefully scouting out the control rooms, looking for anything that can help you find your confiscated ship. Unfortunately for you, the walls and blast doors of the compound are so thick that they’re effectively sound-proofed, making it difficult to tell what lies behind each door before you open it. Despite the fact that you haven’t yet run into any functional droid or living being, you feel a spike of adrenaline every time you enter a new room or hallway.

The next one, you think, opens into the hallway where the main control center is housed. If you were paying enough attention while the droids frog-marched you through the base.

When it opens, you don’t find droids.

You find clones.

There are four. Their armor looks different from the clones you’re used to seeing on the major core planets: all of it is painted a dark grey, their helmets heavily customized. Two of them immediately turn to look at you. One is holding a pistol. The other is holding the scariest sniper rifle you’ve ever had pointed at your face. (And you’ve had quite a few sniper rifles pointed at your face.)

Nope, you think. Not happening.

Immediately, you dart around the corner and slam the button to close the door. Shouts ring through the hallway. You shoot the access panel for good measure. Corellia may be a member of the Republic, but that doesn’t mean you want anybody working for the Senate to know what you’re doing here, least of all soldiers.

Time has suddenly become far more pressing.

You abandon some of your previous caution and take off at full speed through the compound. A few active battle droids wander the halls, their tiny electronic brains seeming utterly flabbergasted by whatever turn of events lead to a group of at least four clones carving through an entire Separatist base. You pick them off with ease. They’re not the enemy you’re worried about.

Where are the rest of the clones?

There’s no way in hell a squad of four men could do this much damage…right?

But there are more pressing matters. There’s no signage in the base, which means you’re relying on memory and educated guesses to make your way to the airfield where you know a wide array of starships are parked. You’ve finally made your way up to the ground level of the base, only minutes away from where you think the airfield is.

Unfortunately, the stars are not on your side today.

Footsteps—organic ones, by the sound of it—are coming towards you down the hall.

You duck into an alcove in the wall and press yourself as deep into it as you can, hoping desperately that you’re hidden from view. A few moments pass, and then a clone in that strange grey armor sprints past you. Then a second, and a third, and a fourth.

A few seconds pop by, and you’re about to peek out of your alcove when a grey helmet pops back into view, startling you so badly that you bang your elbow against the steel wall.

“Who are you?” the clone yells.

“Who are you?” you retort, for a lack of any better things to say.

“Sergeant CT-9901. Call me Hunter.”

You blink at him. He tilts his head at you.

You say nothing.

“Hunter! We need to go!” a voice shouts.

“Are you a Separatist?” the clone called Hunter asks you.

“Absolutely not.”

“Then come on!” he exclaims, motioning you to follow him.

“Where are you going?”

“We’re escaping.”

“You’re going the wrong way!” you exclaim. “The airfield is in the direction you came from.”

“Yeah, and we just rigged the airfield to blow. Now come on!”

Well, shit. What other choice do you have?

Hunter takes off running, and you follow as closely as you can. The tall clone with the sniper rifle is waiting for you at the end of the hall, and he says something to Hunter that you can’t quite make out. They’re probably talking through their helmet comms, you realize. The three of you make your way away from the airfield, through a part of the base that you don’t recognize. Here and there, you catch glimpses of the other two clones up aheads, but they don’t seem to be slowing down at all. Metal carcasses of battle droids are strewn around you.

Finally, you break out of the compound and into the sunlight. It seems to be early afternoon, if you’ve been tracking both the passing of time and the cardinal corrections correctly. The base is located in a valley between rolling mountains, surrounded on every side by thick forest and strange rock formations. You follow the two clones to a large boulder, where the other two clones you saw earlier are standing. One is tall, with goggles in his helmet. The other one is even taller, so tall that you could reasonably call him a giant.

“Who is this?” asks the one with goggles.

“Not a Separatist,” says Hunter. “Which is good enough. Wrecker, are we good to go?”

The giant—Wrecker, apparently—gives Hunter a thumbs up, and hits a button on his vambrace.

The airfield behind you blows up. Somehow, it’s one of the most normal things that’s happened all day.

“That should keep them distracted for at least thirty minutes, which is long enough for us to escape the range of their scanners,” says goggles.

“I don’t want to take any risks. Let’s get moving,” says Hunter. He turns to you. “Alright, Miss ‘Absolutely Not a Separatist’. You coming with us?”

“Is that an option?” you ask.

“As long as you don’t shoot us.”

“Didn’t even occur to me,” you say, honestly. “But where are the other clones?”

“What other clones?”

…you’re joking.

“You did all of that yourself?” you ask, utterly incredulous.

“Sure did!” Wrecker exclaims. “It was fun, too.”

“We specialize in smaller operations,” says Hunter. “Wrecker’s our munitions guy. Tech is pretty self-explanatory. Crosshair’s our sniper. We’re Clone Force Ninety-Nine.”

There’s so much information to be taken in right now, you don’t even know where to begin.

“Alright,” you say, because really, you’re completely out of options here. “I guess I’m in.”

~~~

Cool air burns in your lungs. Everything hurts. Everything hurts. Keeping up with the clones’ long strides has forced you to jog in places, and even then, you’ve fallen to the back of the group. Twenty minutes have passed since the airfield was blown to bits, and in that time, you’ve finally made sense of the incredible influx of information you’ve been given. You’ve also developed a veritable laundry list of questions. Chief among them:

“Where are we going?”

Crosshair turns around, and though his helmet covers his face, he’s definitely glaring at you. “To our cache. Keep up.”

“How much farther?” you ask, trying—and mostly failing—to keep the despair out of your voice.

Crosshair says nothing.

Such a conversationalist.

“What’s going on?” calls a low voice—Hunter’s. All four clones are looking at you now, peering through their unreadable masks.

“I asked where we’re going.”

Hunter pauses, tilts his head. Then he starts making his way back down towards you, his posture tense even as his steps are light and fluid. You eye him closely; despite Crosshair’s rifle, and Wrecker’s size, and Tech’s explosives, you’re getting the feeling that Hunter is the dangerous one here. You just haven’t figured out why, yet.

You straighten as he approaches, expecting him to size you up. Instead, he walks right past you, and sits on a fallen tree.

“When was the last time you drank something?” he asks.

…what?

The question sounds downright concerned. You say nothing. The duration of your imprisonment is not information you’ll give out willingly.

Hunter is unclipping something from his belt, now. It’s a small bottle with a colorless, slightly cloudy liquid inside. He holds it out to you, and says, “Drink.”

“What’s in it?” you ask.

“Water, a mild stimulant, electrolytes, and sugar,” Tech rattles off.

Helpful.

Hunter shoves it towards you a little further, and you push it back. Poisoning is not on today’s agenda…not that literally any of this was on today’s agenda.

“You, first.”

Hunter nods, and pulls his helmet off of his head. His face is…not what you expected. His skin is a light brown, dotted with a few faint freckles on the left side, and dominated by a dark tattoo of a skull on the right. His nose is aquiline, his jaw is strong and rounded, his cheeks ever so slightly hollowed. Dark curly hair falls in a tangled mess to his shoulders, held back only by a red bandana tied across his temple. A few flyaways have escaped its hold, as if yearning for freedom. 

You’re a professional. You do not ogle the handsome soldier. Instead, you watch closely as he lifts the bottle to his lips and takes a small sip. Swallows. Your eyes follow the motion of his throat.

Satisfied, you nod, and take the offered gift. The liquid is sweet and a little salty, but otherwise bland. A faint bitterness lingers on your tongue when you’ve finished taking a few gulps.

When you hold the bottle out for Hunter, he waves you off. “All of it.”

It takes you a minute, but you finish the bottle, and thank him as you hand it back to him. He nods silently in response. What a repartee you’ve established.

“You feel better?” Wrecker asks.

“Sure do. Thanks.”

“We stowed the rest of our gear at a spot fifteen klicks away,” Hunter says. “Can you make it that far?”

Now that’s the real question. The fluids and the short rest have certainly helped, but your legs still ache, and the mountain in front of you is only getting steeper as you climb. Fifteen klicks is just a very long walk over normal terrain. Fifteen klicks now…

“Definitely,” you say, with confidence. “Shall we?”

Hunter motions the group forward, and you fall in behind him.

What a day.

~~~

Time starts to blur, after that. Your world reduces itself to the diffused ache of exhaustion in your legs and the tree roots under your feet…and Hunter. More precisely, the mud-splattered heels of Hunter’s armored boots, as you follow close behind. The clones’ pace is almost punishing; you start to worry how long you’ll be able to keep up, as the soldiers plod along without complaint. Well…almost without complaint.

“I’m hungry,” Wrecker groans, only for the fourth time in the past ten minutes.

“With only three ration packs left, protocol dictates that we reserve our food supply until we restock, or until nutrition becomes an immediate concern,” says Tech.

“This is immediate,” Wrecker insists.

“Your appetite has been an ‘immediate concern’ since we were three years old,” says Crosshair.

Your own stomach growls in affirmation, as if feeling left out of the conversation. When was the last time you ate? Hours have lost their shape. At this point, you feel like time is being measured by the number of feet you’ve climbed.

Abruptly, Hunter halts. Without saying a word, he swings his rucksack to his front, pulls out a foil ration pack, and tosses it over his shoulder. It sails through the air in an elegant arc, right into Wrecker’s waiting hand. You try not to be too impressed.

(You fail, because it was impressive. Actually, you’re not even sure how it was possible.)

There’s a pause as Hunter’s hand hovers over his rucksack.

Then: “Catch.”

The warning seems only an afterthought, delivered as the ration pack is already airborne. You manage to catch it anyway, and you turn it over in your hands. It’s cold-start, the kind that’s mixed with water to form a vaguely edible mush. Hunter is already moving forward again.

“Do you have any more water?” you ask.

This time, he doesn’t even bother with a warning as the metal canteen comes hurtling at your head. It stings your hand as you catch it. You tuck the ration pack into your belt so you have a hand free to open the—

To open—

To—

What the hell?

“Is this sealed?” you call out, even though the canteen is clearly half-empty, and you remember him drinking out of it just minutes ago.

Hunter turns and starts to make his way back down to you. Not for the first time on this bizarre trek, you wish that you could see his facial expressions. His body language betrays little, his movements as elegant and efficient as a supersoldier’s should be. When he reaches you, he holds out his hand. You drop the canteen into his palm with a little more force than is really necessary, but he doesn’t react, simply twists open the lid without any visible effort.

“The ration,” he says, holding out his hand again.

“I know how to mix a ration pack,” you grumble.

But you’re tired, and your hands are stiff from the cold, and you’re starting to wonder whether this is an elite super-soldier’s equivalent of kindness. You won’t bite the hand that feeds you. With a nod, you hand over the ration pack. Hunter mixes it with the sort of automaticity that betrays a thousand repetitions of the motion. Your fingers brush when he hands it back.

One swig of the stuff makes you wonder if it’s not too late to go back to the Seppie prison.

“Urghh,” you groan.

Hunter makes a sound that’s almost…oh stars, he’s laughing at you. You’re dying of hunger and thirst and trying to drink what tastes like cardboard in puréed form, and he’s laughing at you.

“Never had GAR rations before?” he asks. “They’re not like what you civilians get for your backpacking trips.”

“That was…rude, I’m sorry,” you say, kicking yourself for reacting that way when he just offered you help.

“That’s the usual reaction,” he says. He swings his rucksack over his shoulder and turns back up the mountain. “Come on, we’ve got a long way ahead of us. Drink it while we walk. You’ll get used to the taste.”

“Stars, I hope not,” you mumble.

Hunter’s rumbling laugh floats back to again, and you smile despite yourself. For a moment, you wonder if you’ll get along after all.

~~~

It turns out rations for six foot tall super-soldiers are really energy-dense. With a stomach full of food—if you can call it food—the day starts to feel a lot less like a catastrophic mission failure and a lot more like a strange little side quest. Wrecker seems to feel the same, a bright levity emerging in his booming voice.

“Did I ever tell you about the time Hunter took on three regs at one time because they were picking on Crosshair?”

“When would you ever have had time to tell her that story?” Crosshair asks.

“There were only two,” Hunter corrects, “and they were almost a year younger than us.”

“What are regs?” you ask.

It’s a can of worms that you’re glad you’ve opened.

Wrecker seems to delight in having an audience, and the other three can’t help but contribute to the conversation. Their stories are all out of chronology, and the discussion is frequently derailed by your complete lack of knowledge about the Grand Army of the Republic. The Senate wants it that way, you know. Honestly, it’s incredible how much intel you’re getting right now…not that you feel like you could use it for anything productive. It paints an ugly picture that the clones don’t seem to realize is ugly, a tale of forced conformity and a brutal life.

The landscape goes by. You learn that most clones like them are considered defective and relegated to maintenance duty. You learn that, although the clones as a whole view themselves as brothers, there’s nasty people in any group. You learn who “regs” are, and about the ones who picked on the 99s—Crosshair especially, who grew up tall but unusually thin, unable to develop the impressive muscle mass that most of the clones possessed. You learn that Hunter, the only one not visibly defective in some way, learned to bridge the gap between his squad and their other brothers.

(You learn that, when his diplomacy failed, he was always willing to throw punches in their defense.)

A story unfolds, of four boys who turned into four men, all so different in temperament that it seems impossible for them to be held together by anything except circumstances. Wrecker starts fights because he thinks they’re fun, but cares far more about what other people think of him than he’s willing to let on. Tech simultaneously lives in his own head and is inextricably steeped in the world around him, every phenomenon looking more colorful through his goggles, every system of nature a machine that can be disassembled. Crosshair is a cynic, through and through, but his loyalty to his brothers runs so deep that you wonder if it might be affection, rather than a sense of duty, that drives him. Hunter…

In all of their stories, none of the other clones truly describe Hunter to you. There are no off-handed compliments that he’s brave, or that he’s kind, or that he’s level-headed. Wrecker tells you, “Crosshair is the best lookout in the entire galaxy.” Hunter tells you, “Wrecker has this habit of offering to help people at very inconvenient times,”—an amusingly brotherly way to say that Wrecker is a generous soul. Crosshair tells you, “Tech saved our mission because he read a book about karking butterflies.”

But still, in between the tales of rescues and hijinks, you weave together the threads, and you find yourself looking at a very different person than you thought you had met when your day began. Hunter’s facade of gruffness is hastily constructed and easily chipped away, and beneath it he is not a complicated man. Above all else, he is singularly devoted to protecting others, and everything else about him seems inconsequential in comparison.

Evening falls, and you make it to the place where the clones have stored their gear. Their ship, Hunter explains, is another twelve klicks away, near a small outpost that they initially investigated, and then decided not to infiltrate.

After you’ve finished your dinner—which includes some real food this time, even if it is canned—you find yourself sitting by a tiny brook, too small for anything to swim in it. A day’s worth of stories tumble around in your mind.

You only hear Hunter coming when he’s a few feet behind you.

“I won’t ask you what you were doing in a Seppie detention cell.”

Smart man, you think.

“But,” he continues, “whatever it was you did, they’re going to be after you as much as they’re after us. You need to be able to protect yourself.”

You resist the urge to respond with a dry, “Yeah, no shit, Sergeant.” Instead, you offer a non-committal hum.

“I’ve got a spare DC-17 pistol. You should learn how to use it.”

You turn to look at him. He’s standing with one hand on his hip and the other holding his blaster, empty of a power cell. He looks very serious.

You try to resist the urge not to laugh. You’ve had a blaster in your hand since you were twelve years old.

Instead, you say, “Sounds like a good idea. Now?”

“No better time,” he says.

He makes his way over and sits down next to you, and you find yourself leaning in to watch as he turns the blaster over in his hands.

“So we’ll start with assembling it…”

You’re only half paying attention to the actual words tumbling from his lips. Like a sweater catching on a bush, your mind catches on the low, rumbling timbre of his voice. The sound buzzes in your ears. The sun is going down, but you could swear it’s getting warmer. Was he always that—

“Were you paying attention?” he asks, breaking your reverie.

“Yes,” you lie. Well, half-lie, because you were paying attention…to other things.

“Repeat back what I just told you.”

Well, that definitely isn’t happening. In lieu of an answer, you pluck the blaster and its power cell from his hands. Your conscious mind is barely engaged as you assemble it with steady hands, as quick as you reasonably can without jamming it. A DC-17 isn’t your preferred style of pistol, but the principle is the same.

And if you’re not mistaken, the subtle arch of Hunter’s brow means that he’s impressed.

“Good. Now, this blaster handles a little differently than the ones you’ve probably used…”

Maybe it’s the smooth confidence in his voice, or maybe you’re just desperate to learn more about the man, but you find yourself going along with it. You nod as he explains the kickback of the weapon, its effective range, its possible styles of blaster bolts.

Finally, he stands behind your left shoulder, and quietly instructs you to aim the weapon. It’s as easy as breathing. His hands come up to adjust your grip; his fingers are warm and rough, heavily calloused by his own use of weaponry. The heat lingers even as he pulls away, apparently satisfied with the positioning of your hands.

You immediately slide your grip back to where it was.

“My hands are smaller,” you explain, even though you don’t owe him an explanation, because you’ve been doing this at least as long as he has. You almost tell him that, too, but it would reveal more about you than you actually want him to know.

“Mmm,” he hums, his face now tantalizing close to your ear. “See if you can hit that hollow tree.”

The tree is maybe thirty feet away. Half of you is wildly offended by the suggestion that you couldn’t hit such an easy target. The other half of you is ruled by the pounding of your own tyrannical heart, Hunter’s mere proximity throwing you out of your disciplined calm.

You breathe in. Breathe out. Aim. Squeeze.

There’s now a burning hole in the center of the dead tree.

“Good!” Hunter says, and good heavens, could he not stand so close? “Now—”

Fweeoo.

Maybe you should feel bad about cutting him off. You don’t, at all.

Fweeoo.

Fweeoo.

Fweeoo.

Hunter is silent, now, just standing there watching you draw a neat little line of smoking holes in the tree. The petty part of you is winning your internal war, so you line up a sixth shot, turn your head to meet his gaze, and pull the trigger. His dark brown eyes flicker away, then back to yours.

“You’ve made your point,” he murmurs.

You glance at the tree, where a wisp a smoke rises from a knot in the bark. It’s not a perfect bullseye, but a victory nevertheless.

“I’ve made better points,” you retort, smiling. Four precious seconds pass before Hunter finally steps away.

“So, no target practice for you, then. I set up your bedroll. You should get some rest.”

“Which watch should I take?”

Hunter frowns slightly. “None of them. I’m going to scout out the area for a bit longer, then I’ll take first watch. Crosshair and Tech take second and third.”

“Do you want a second pair of eyes?”

“Don’t need them.”

You nod, and suddenly realize what an awkward thing that was to say. “Well then, I’ll head back up to camp.”

“Goodnight,” says Hunter, softly.

You don’t manage to summon a response.

(Your heart still pounds against your ribs.)

~~~

Despite the food, rest, and water, the morning’s trek is harder than yesterday’s. The terrain turns rocky and the foliage becomes sparse, leaving you exposed to the cold wind. The group’s pace slows as you make your way down the mountain, carefully stepping around loose stones that could send you tumbling. Your eyes are once again trained on Hunter’s heels. You trust him more than you trust yourself to pick out a safe path on the treacherous slope.

Still, the difficulty of the endeavor doesn’t seem to dampen the squad’s mood. Hunter’s helmet is off, strapped to the top of his pack, and he often tilts his face towards the sun. The wind blows his curly hair in every direction, until the bandana is only keeping half of it out of his face. Tech is delivering a detailed lecture about geology. You have no idea what he’s talking about. Wrecker seems as confused as you are about the subject, but while you simply let the words wash over you, Wrecker eagerly interjects with questions and commentary. Their dialogue is far from socratic, but it starts to intrigue you, and you can’t help but smile at the exchange. Every once in a while, the conversation is punctuated by a comment from Crosshair, dripping with sarcasm and yet received with good-hearted laughter. Hunter’s contributions, frequent at first, begin to taper off. The other three don’t seem to notice, but then again, it’s not their job to study people. It’s yours.

You’re about to ask him what’s wrong when he answers your question preemptively.

“Someone’s in the ship,” he says, turning around to face the group.

“Clankers?” Wrecker asks.

“No. I would have felt them if they were droids. I’ve been sensing something else: comms, or another type of small electronics. But just now, they turned on power in the ship.”

The cogs in your head are turning. Did you hear him correctly?

“How do you know?” you ask. “What do you mean, you felt…”

You trail off as Hunter holds up a finger to silence you. His brow is drawn into a tight scowl and he closes his eyes, tilting his head as if listening for something.

Tech makes his way over to you. Quietly, he explains, “Hunter can feel electromagnetic frequencies. He can sense droids, or the electronics that people carry on them if they’re quite close. When the electrical power on the ship is turned on, those frequencies change, so he can feel those, too.”

“How could somebody turn your ship on without a key fob?” you whisper.

“The ship has no key fob. It would be dangerous to rely on a small object, which could easily be lost or damaged during a mission, to access our only means of escape. One can enter the ship and activate some systems with no restrictions, and the engine can be started with a key code.”

“And somebody just got on your ship?”

“Apparently, yes.”

You glance up at Hunter. His right thumb is rubbing absently at the scuffed paint on his vambrace.

After a long moment, he says, “There are definitely no droids. I think there are locals here, and we didn’t realize it. We need to move. The ship is only a fifteen minute run from here.”

“Should we leave the packs?” you ask.

“Leave everything except weapons and combat gear. We’ll put the explosives and grappling hooks in Wrecker’s pack.”

“Aww, yeah!” Wrecker cheers, albeit quietly. The rest of the group is in motion immediately, rearranging their burdens and leaving all by the necessities tucked under a rocky outcrop. You have no rucksack, so you help Wrecker in carefully repacking the explosives into his. You’re almost finished when you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder.

“You’ll want these,” Hunter says. He hands you two spare power cells for your blaster.

“Two? But you only have three spares.”

“I’m hoping we can reason with the locals,” he says, “or scare them away. But if things got really bad, I’ve got this.”

There’s a metallic hiss as he slides a vibroknife out of the sheath on his forearm. He twirls it in his fingers a few times, a display of skill so casual that it feels almost unreal.

Wait.

Wait.

“Back in the base, did you stab those droids?” you exclaim.

Hunter grins, a full smile that seems so out of place in your current situation. And yet, you find yourself mirroring it right back at him.

“Let’s go get our ship back.”

~~~

Jagged rock digs into your skin as you lie on your stomach on a ridge, peering out at the clones’ ship. Hunter was right; you can vaguely make out the shapes of at least three humanoids milling around it. From where you are, though, you can’t see any more details than that. The group’s only pair of binoculars is currently in Crosshair’s hands.

“Three outside the ship,” he says. “Armored, helmeted, and carrying blasters. These might be more than just locals.”

“Anything else?” Hunter asks.

“They’re waving their hands at each other.”

Hunter holds out his hand for the binoculars, and Crosshair hands them over.

“Sign language,” says Hunter. “Either they don’t want to be heard, or they can’t hear. I can’t feel how many there are. The ship is interfering too much.”

“Are they doing anything to the ship?” you ask.

“Not from the outside. Who knows what they’re doing inside of it.”

“I have encrypted all information present on board our ship,” says Tech from next to Crosshair. “It would be nearly impossible for them to elicit any intelligence from its databanks.”

“I’m more worried about them gutting it,” says Hunter darkly.

To your surprise, he does not hand the binoculars to Tech next—he hands them to you. Nodding in thanks, you take them, and try not to think about the way his shoulder presses against yours. You fine-tune the focusing knob until you have a clear view of the people standing in front of the ship.

Then you almost drop the binoculars.

Hunter notices the jerk of your hand immediately. “What’s going on?” he asks, alarmed.

What’s going on? What’s going on?

What’s going on is that you are never getting that ship back, and you’re all in deep shit, and you’re starting to wonder if you really will quit your job this time.

Kark. This.

“Those are Third Hand,” you say.

“Third Hand?”

“Mercenaries. They’re…” you trail off as you watch one of the distant figures make a wide sweeping motion with his right arm. You wrack your brain trying to remember what it means, but it’s been years since you’ve encountered one of the Third Hand. Usually, the correct response to encountering one is to run very fast in the other direction and pray to anybody who will listen that they don’t follow you…and not to ask them for sign language lessons. The only reason you even recognize them is because their appearance is so distinctive: Ubese filter helmets and cortosis-weave plate armor, painted in swirling multicolored hues with jagged black symbols on top, studded with spikes. The effect is like a monstrous creature emerging from a beautiful supernova. These ones have relatively few spikes each—a good sign, but not a great one.

“What?” Hunter asks.

You refocus yourself. “They’re Ubese mercenaries. Very good ones. Usually contract with the Spice Cartel.”

“So what are they doing out here?”

“Nothing good. If there are six here, there are probably at least twelve in the area.”

“How do you know there are six? Can you see them?”

You’ve mentally catalogued everything you’ll be able to learn from looking, so you hand the binoculars back to Hunter.

“Third Hand always travel in groups of threes. There are three outside, so there will probably be three inside.”

“Six is manageable,” he says.

…manageable? He’s joking. He has to be joking. The man who used to start fist-fights to defend his brothers would not turn them into target practice for the Third Hand.

But his voice is deadly serious.

“Six against four?” you ask, incredulous.

“Six against five.”

“I’m not wearing armor. I’m not a soldier. I don’t count.”

“I’ll still take those odds. We need to complete the mission, which means we need to scout the other large bases on this moon. And for that, we need our ship.”

“They’re armed to the teeth and don’t shy away from killing people like you do.”

“We’ve had worse. We need to complete the mission,” he repeats.

“Hunter, what is wrong with you?” you whisper-scream, utterly furious but fully aware of how exposed your position is. “Do you actually think it’s a good idea to take on six extraordinarily well-trained mercenaries just for a ship? Any sane officer would turn his men around right now and send for evac!”

“We don’t need an evac!”

“Stars help us, Hunter, stop trying to be a hero! Why can’t you just be normal?”

Hunter goes deathly still.

Silence falls upon you; the air seems to turn brittle. You glance between the men. Crosshair is staring at you coldly. Wrecker is fidgeting, his eyebrows raised in alarm. Tech is glancing between you, Hunter, and the display on his Hud, his fingers still tapping against his wrist comm.

Hunter isn’t looking at you.

“We have never been normal,” he mutters.

The word seems laced with poison, and your chest clenches. Of course you had to go and put your foot in your mouth. Of course you picked the one adjective that would feel so personal to him. His expression is angry, but somehow you get the feeling that it runs deeper than that.

“Hunter,” you say, softer this time. “This is a suicide mission.”

“Then don’t come.”

Stubborn man! “Has it not occurred to you that I don’t want you to die? Any of you?”

Hunter does look at you now, his face a mix of so many emotions that it’s become unreadable. You meet his dark eyes and hold his gaze, willing him to understand. Willing him to trust you.

“We’ll be going home with one less ship and no information,” he says. Damn him. “We don’t even know where the datapad is, now.

Something about that sentence catches in your mind. You don’t even know where the datapad is. You don’t…

…no, you do.

It all clicks together.

“Yes, we do.”

“What?” the men chorus, sounding more alike than they ever have.

“You told me that there’s a small outpost near here, right?”

“That outpost was far too small and poorly-manned to contain the datapad we’re looking for,” says Tech. “The Separatists would never leave something so valuable so vulnerable.”

“But what if it is well-guarded? Just not by droids.”

Hunter shifts, turns to look at you for real now. The anger hasn’t entirely faded from his face, but there’s something else there now, a new glint. “Are you saying that the outpost is guarded by these mercenaries, and the datapad is actually being kept there?”

“It’s the best explanation. How much do you know about the outpost?”

All four men glance at each other. Wrecker grins.

“Well,” says Tech, “when I sliced into the Separatist servers…”

~~~

The plan is insane.

The plan is so utterly insane that you wonder if it wouldn’t be better just to take on six mercenaries in a firefight to get the ship back.

The outpost is less than an hour’s hike from the ship; the clones were able to land close to it because it lacks the long-range ship detection system that the large base had. The mercenaries have only been at the ship for twenty minutes or so, and based on what you know of the Third Hand, they will pick it apart piece by piece before they’re satisfied. That takes six men out of the running, but the second the alarm sounds at the base, your countdown will begin.

Hunter and his bizarre superhuman abilities prove invaluable. From this range, he can tell you that there are somewhere around forty droids, and that they’re remotely controlled. Tech has been able to override certain models of remote-control battle droids in the past, and he’s confident in his ability to do so here. 

Crosshair will set up on the hill overlooking the outpost and cover Wrecker, who will launch an artillery attack against the east end. You, Tech, and Hunter will sneak in through the north entrance, where Tech will slice into a terminal and take control of the droids to attack the mercenaries. You and Hunter will look for the datapad, and once you have it, you’ll steal a ship and escape.

So, just normal Taungsday things.

“If anything goes wrong,” you say, “we scrap the mission. If their scanners are strong enough to detect us, we quit. If the droids are the wrong model, we quit. If there are more than fifteen men, we quit.”

Tech, Wrecker, and Crosshair agree.

Hunter just glares at you.

The trek to the base is made in silence. Your trigger finger is itchy, and you startle at things that shouldn’t bother you: small animals darting between the rocks, your foot sinking to deep into mud, Crosshair clearing his throat. The group walks in single file: Hunter, Tech, Wrecker, you, and Crosshair. You can’t see Hunter from here. It’s better that way.

At one point, Wrecker falls back a little to walk side by side with you. He leans down a little, as if to whisper conspiratorily. The effect is comical—he really just ends up hovering far above your head.

“We, uhh…we failed our last two missions. It was bad. The Admiral said that Hunter made a bad call, and if we couldn’t do the next one, we’d be sent back to Kamino. Said if we couldn’t function like a normal squad, we shouldn’t be here.”

“So if you fail…”

“Tech and me go to maintenance. Hunter and Crosshair have to teach the cadets. Hunter doesn’t mind it”—you remember his careful instruction with the blaster, and a smile flickers across your face—”but he’d rather be out here.”

“Well, then,” you say, shoulders straightening. “We better not fail.”

~~~

The first ten minutes are a dramatic, spectacular victory.

There’s more firepower packed into Wrecker’s rucksack than you could possibly have imagined. The ground shakes when he begins his assault, and a small part of you worries that he might do his job too well, and send the outpost crashing into a pile of rubble. But, though Wrecker might not always come across this way, you spent much of yesterday listening to stories about him: the man is brilliant with explosives. What you wouldn’t give to be watching the display through Crosshair’s scope right now.

Tech, Hunter, and you manage to sneak into the base with little issue. All of the alarms in the base are already going off, so your illicit entry adds nothing new to the cacophany. Quick as a flash, Tech slices into the outpost’s computer system, and then the real fun begins.

The droids are only B1s, but the great strength of B1s is their numbers and their complete disregard for their own safety. Through the outpost surveillance system, you watch the Third Hand mercenaries scramble to deal with the chaos wrought by explosions on one side and traitorous battle droids on the other. There seem to be nine of them here, and before you and Hunter even set out to look for the datapad, four are already dead or seriously wounded.

(Although you know that they’ve all killed more people than you could count, you still wince at the carnage.)

When all of them seem sufficiently occupied, you and Hunter set out, blasters locked and loaded. After three turns—right, left, right—Hunter motions down a narrow corridor.

“You go that way, look on the west side. There’s nobody there, and there’s a communications room about fifty feet down. I’m going south, this way.”

You resist the urge to argue with him, as much as you want to. He took a chance, trusting you, and now you need to do the same for him.

“Comm me if you find anything,” you say.

“I will.”

You’re sprinting down the hallway when you hear him call out, “Be careful!”

One by one, you sweep the rooms off of the hallway. Most of them are small storage rooms or engine rooms, with one small dormitory. At last, you reach the communications room. Knowing that this is the room most likely to have people in it, your heart pounds as you open the door as fast as you can, blaster raised. It’s empty.

Adrenaline keeps coursing through you as you search the entire room, looking for the datapad. There’s nothing. On your way out, you notice a box of empty data sticks. It’s not what you’re here for, but you shove one of them in the nearest console and wait for it to download the basic schematics of the computer. There’s no time to go searching through the computers for information—there’s probably nothing useful on them, anyway—but you’re hoping that knowing what kind of tech the Separatists are using might help somebody back at HQ.

Bzzz. Your comm goes off.

“Hunter?”

“I found the datapad. It’s at the end of the south corridor I went down, at the very end on the left.”

“On my way,” you say.

In the privacy of the empty room, you allow yourself a sigh of relief. This is not your standard sort of operation. Explosions are still shaking the compound, though they’re beginning to slow down, and you eject the datastick even though it’s not quite finished. You’re here for one thing, and Hunter has found it. Only a few more minutes. Then you can all get off of this planet.

Luckily, you encounter no mercenaries during your sprint to where Hunter is. When you arrive, you find him leaned over a datapad that’s been detached from the main console, a strange-looking datastick plugged into its main port. Hunter glances back and nods a greeting at you.

“Almost done,” he says.

You fiddle with one of the datasticks that you swiped from the communications room, ready to switch yours with his the moment that his download is finished. The next twenty seconds feel like eternity.

Then: green light.

Hunter yanks his datastick out of the console. Then, wiith a flash of movement so fast you can barely processed what just happened, he sinks his vibroblade into the datapad and tears it down the center, splitting the machine into two sparking hunks of ruined metal.

~~~

Here’s the thing:

You’re a spy. Spies have rules. Perhaps chief among those rules is, “Don’t trust anyone.” Especially, “Don’t trust foreign special operatives who you just met yesterday.”

Here’s the thing:

That intel was kept on an encrypted datapad that could not be accessed remotely. It was not backed up. And Hunter just destroyed it beyond any hope of recovery. While his mission is safe and secure in his pocket, yours is a complete loss. And he did that on purpose.

Here’s the thing:

Until five seconds ago, you actually liked him.

It takes a moment before your brain truly catches up, and by then he’s moving towards the exit.

“Let’s go!” he calls.

You hate your traitorous legs for the way they heed his order without question, pounding against the concrete floor as the two of you sprint through the halls of the compound. You hate your traitorous hands for firmly gripping your blaster, not once reaching out to grab him by the shoulder and stop him. You hate your traitorous voice for not crying out in protest, for not calling him a liar and a cheat and a terrible excuse for a human being.

You hate yourself for doing as he says, even as his betrayal lies in a smoking heap behind you.

Your body moves automatically, dodging behind a corner when you see a mercenary. Hunter strafes in the opposite direction and takes a few shots at the man. By the thump you hear, you presume that one of them landed.

“Bet you’re glad you don’t have a ‘normal’ soldier with you right now,” Hunter quips.

Anger rises in your throat. Is that really what he’s hung up on? Your single comment, that’s what made him destroy that datapad, ruining your mission? Maybe you’d understand better if he’d done it for the sake of the Republic, but this just feels like a low blow.

As you round the next corner, Hunter pulls off his helmet and tilts his head, apparently listening for something. Briefly, his eyes flicker to yours, and he gives you a cocky half-smile.

Asshole, you think. It’s a petty word and a petty thought, but your anger is pulsing through your body with every beat of your heart, every memory you’ve formed in the past day suddenly tainted. Quieter, but just as poignant, is a deep feeling of shame. Were you really fooled by a handsome face and a few acts of kindness? Is this the man he’s been all along?

You shake your head to clear the thoughts away. Right now, you need to focus. This is the final leg of the plan: you and Hunter have to get to the far north-east side of the compound, where three ships are kept in a tiny hangar: two fighters, and one shuttle.

Hunter is yelling at Tech through comms: “Tech! Open the door into the hangar and get over here!”

You can see the door slowly open up ahead.

So close.

You’re nearly to the door, making a beeline for the nearest fighter, when you hear Hunter shout.

Then something slams you into the wall. Heat envelopes you, carried on a strong gust of wind. You struggle to take a breath.

One second passes.

The sound of blaster fire rings in your ears.

Two seconds pass.

You finally realize what’s happening. Hunter is pressed against you, his arms held up to protect your head. It wasn’t a something that threw you against the wall just now; it was him, pushing you out of the way of what seems to have been a grenade.

“Got ‘im!” Wrecker yells over comms. The sound rings in your ears, tender from the sound of the explosion.

“If my counting was correct, that was the last of the Third Hand,” says Tech.

“Not the last,” says Crosshair. “I see the other six. They’re on their way here. Four minutes.”

Hunter shifts away now, and you try to take a full breath through the smoke.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

You nod. Your voice feels too raw to work right now.

“Come on, we don’t have much time.”

Emotions are bouncing around your head like a damned pinball machine, and you push them all away, focusing on the task at hand: you need to get to a ship. You need to escape. So you follow Hunter through the door and into the hangar. The wind has changed, blowing the smoke of Wrecker’s explosions away from you, and you breathe deeply as you run.

To your surprise, Hunter doesn’t make for the shuttle. He makes for the nearest fighter, instead. Across the hangar, you can see Wrecker wave.

“Wrecker!” Hunter yells. “Start the shuttle!”

“On it!” Wrecker calls back.

“I thought you were all going together,” you say.

“We are. I need to give you this, first.”

Hunter takes your hand and presses something small and hard into it. The tips of his fingers are warm and calloused, and though you could count on his hand the number of times you’ve touched, he feels as familiar as a home.

“Here,” he says. The warmth is gone as quickly as it came as he pulls away, ducking around the fighter to look around the hangar, scanning for enemies.

All you can think to say is: “What?”

“You can access it with the code 223-228-24!”

“What is it?”

“The datastick. Don’t access it until you’re in a secure position.”

“I don’t understand. You destroyed the datapad.”

Hunter turns to look at you and cocks his head. “I got a copy first.”

“Just one, though.”

“I downloaded it to my wrist comm. This is the original.”

Oh.

Oh!

You want to sigh-laugh-sob with relief. Hunter was never leaving you out to dry. His comment about being a normal soldier…that was teasing. You were running for your lives, being shot at, and he was teasing you.

“Thank you,” you whisper, because your voice can’t be trusted in full.

Hunter only shakes his head. “Don’t thank me. We’d have been dead men without you.”

“Not…not the datastick. I just…”

Words stick in your throat. There’s an ocean between you and Hunter that you can’t seem to cross, the crash of its waves inaudible over the pounding of your heart. There’s an ocean between you, and it’s only an arm span across. Words stick in your throat, but your feet…

Your feet are as light as ever, and you find yourself standing in front of him, looking up into dark eyes that finally seem readable. Hope and fear flicker across them in equal measure.

You move slowly, telegraphing your movement to give him a chance to pull away, but he doesn’t. The world stills, and you brush the gentlest kiss on his left cheek, where ink meets blank skin.

(If it were quieter, you would hear his delicate inhale as your lips touched him.)

“Thank you,” you murmur.

You start to step away, hoping—praying, maybe, to all the stars that will listen—that your message was received and decoded. Then a warm hand, calloused from war and gentled from compassion, takes yours. This time, there is nothing for him to give you; there is only an affection that feels so out of place and so, so right. His other hand tilts your chin up.

When he kisses you, all you can think is, finally.

It’s everything that the past two days haven’t been: slow, unsure, and tender. You feel yourself smiling despite yourself. You feel him smile back, and the kiss is broken in the best way possible: with soft laughter.

Time is slipping like water between your fingers.

You kiss him again. And a third time. You’re starting to wonder whether you’ll ever tire of it when the rumble of a ship tugs you from your bliss. It’s Hunter who pulls away first.

“You’ll be okay?” he asks.

The ghost of a smile still lingers on his face, but his brow is knit together with concern.

“I’ll be fine,” you reassure him. “Really. I’m a professional.”

Hunter snorts. “We found you in prison.”

“Occupational hazard!”

Hunter’s laugh is brighter than you’ve ever heard it, and sadder all the same. You brush a finger along his jaw, as if you can catch that laugh in your hand and tuck it in your pocket.

“I’ll see you around, Sergeant,” you say.

Hunter nods. “I’ll see you around.”

The way he turns is abrupt, as if forcing himself to move before he changes his mind. You waste precious seconds watching him sprint across the tarmac and up the ramp of the ship, 

Hunter doesn’t look back, but as you watch the ship’s engines ignite, you can almost feel his gaze still lingering on your face.

Time to go.

Somehow, it doesn’t feel like a goodbye.

#clone fic gift exchange #sergeant hunter #tbb hunter #hunter x reader #hunter x you #the bad batch #the bad batch fanfiction #TBBE24

[jedipoodoo]

In The Garden Would You Trust Me? (Wrecker x Fem!Jedi!Reader)

This was written for @imarvelatthestars for the @cloneficgiftexchange Di, I hope you enjoy this one!

Notes: No warnings, Jedi reader, injured Wrecker, tending to injuries, self-disparaging Wrecker, discussion of trust, Wrecker feels bad about himself, but you're there to make him feel better.

"I am so in love with her right now," Wrecker held his head in his hands, keeping his head upright so that he wouldn't have to look away from his general. Your lightsaber cut through the droids that had ambushed them like shaak butter.

Tech coughed sharply and waved his flashlight, "Wrecker, eyes on me." He needed to see if his brother had another concussion. Wrecker hesitated, so Tech finally grabbed his chin, forcing his brother to let himself be examined.

"We've gotta get him out of here!" You were suddenly standing over them, and Wrecker stared at your hand on his shoulder, unaware of the dorky little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Hunter, however, didn't, and couldn't resist a conspiratorial grin beneath his helmet, "We can hold them off, can you get him to safety?"

Tech missed Hunter's intentions, "The general is the most formidable of all of us, if anyone is going to press forward with the mission is should be her-"

Hunter gripped Tech's shoulder tightly, "The general has the medical training to take care of Wrecker for now, but she doesn't have your prowess with technology."

"Hey!" You teased, though it was true. No one could best Tech's skills with hacking and reprogramming.

"Still, It would be quiet unorthodox if the general was unable to ensure the completion of the- ow!" Tech batted Hunter's hand from his shoulder.

You laughed softly, "A true leader protects their people," You said wisely, "Besides, if I can't count on you boys to take down this prison outpost, who can I trust?"

Wrecker felt a bit ashamed at that. Did you mean that you couldn't trust him? He did tend to get a little overexcited from time to time, but you always picked him to stand by your side and to stay with him to disarm any explosives you encountered on your missions. Had he been mistaken in thinking that meant that you trusted him?

Tech humphed, "Very well. Though we should move quickly, another wave of droids is making their way towards us."

You nodded and slung Wrecker's arm over your shoulder.

Surprisingly, the rest of his body followed, laid across your shoulders like the spoils of a hunt. If Wrecker hadn't been in love before, he was a goner now.

"See you at the rendezvous, boys!" You bid farewell to his brothers, and then Wrecker was flying.

He'd seen you use the force before; leaping to incredible heights, deflecting a hailstorm of blasterfire, calming the angriest gundarks, even making a tiny flower bloom right before his eyes, but it was another thing entirely to experience it for himself.

You'd explained it to him before: the force was an energy field that connected everything together. He could almost feel that energy field himself in this moment. The air around him tingled, like right before an explosion was primed to go off. Is this what you felt like all the time? It was exhilarating.

You came to a stop some klicks away from the Separatist outpost the others were supposed to infiltrate to find the Wookie prisoners and lay Wrecker down to rest against the trunk of a grand wroshyr tree

"How's your head?" You asked.

Wrecker shrugged, "Dizzy, but it doesn't hurt right now."

"Are you nauseous?"

Wrecker shook his head, and instantly regretted it, "Whoops, now I am."

You pushed him backwards until he was sitting on one of the large, exposed roots, and helped him lean forward to bring his head between his knees.

"Stay like that until it feels better, focus on this leaf and try not to think about throwing up." You placed said leaf on the ground between his feet, and as he looked at it, Wrecker felt his headache fading. You were a lot better at this medical thing that Tech was, more patient, more gentle.

"You're a good medic," He mumbled.

"Why thank you," You grabbed a stick that could serve as a temporary splint for his leg, comparing it to the size of his leg to see if it would hold.

"I wish you could be our medic all the time, you're way better than Tech." Wrecker continued, trying to focus on that one leaf like you'd said. It was still a little blurry, but it was getting better if he concentrated.

You giggled, "Then who'd be your general?"

"Hmm, good point." Wrecker hummed, "I like that you're my general."

You ducked your head, staring intently at his twisted ankle. "I do too, Wrecker."

Wrecker sat up. He couldn't hear very well with only one good ear, but your quiet tone sounded...off. You were never that quiet. Even when Hunter was trying to sleep, you always spoke in a more exaggerated whisper, always making sure Wrecker could hear.

"You okay, General?" he asked, not sure why he felt so shy. Was it true then? Did you really not trust him to do a good job and that's why you were always hovering next to him?

"Huh? Oh yeah, I'm fine!" You insisted. You tore a few strips of fabric from the hem of your robes, wrapping it around his leg as fast as you could.

"Yow!" You wrapped it a little too tightly, and Wrecker yanked his foot out of your grasp.

"Sorry! Sorry, I wasn't paying attention!" you blabbered out apologies, quickly unwrapping the bandage so that you could adjust it. You bit your lip, but your nerves had already spread to Wrecker, who anxiously tapped his fingers against the wroshyr roots while he waited for you to finish bandaging his ankle.

"General?" He started, trying to speak calmly so he wouldn't spook either of you again, "Do you trust me?"

Your hands froze, "Do I what?" Finally, you looked up, puzzlement in your radiant eyes.

Wrecker's heart did a summersault and he gulped.

"I know I can be a bit...a bit much, and sometimes I miss things that are obvious to people like Tech, but I just-"

Both your comms beeped insistently, interrupting Wrecker's heartfelt confession. It was Hunter.

"General, how are you and Wrecker?"

You answered with another curious glance at Wrecker, and he felt embarrassed for even asking.

"We're alright, Sergeant, we're out of danger and getting him all bandaged up."

"Good. The wookiee prisoners are free, and we've handed out the extra weapons we were able to carry."

Wrecker sighed heavily. He was missing all the action! What good was he all bandaged up and stuck on the sidelines? No wonder the General didn't trust him.

He stood up, with every intention of marching back to the outpost to help his brothers, to prove to you that he could be just as reliable as Tech or Hunter, but his ankle just wouldn't support his weight. It slipped out from under him, and he pitched forward.

"Woah!" You were under him in a second, arms wrapped around his torso to keep him from falling face-first into another complex root system.

"...Is everything alright?" Hunter asked over the comms.

"We're fine, hold the outpost for now, and wait for General Windu's regiment to meet you." You cut the comm, and adjusted your hold on Wrecker so that you could look up at him.

"I can't leave you alone for a second without you getting into trouble, can I?" You asked.

Wrecker tried to dig the toe of his boot into the dirt, "I don't mean to, general."

"I know you don't," You grinned at him, and kissed the tip of his nose.

Wrecker froze, heat gathering on his cheeks.

He wasn't thinking. He knew he wasn't, but he never had much of a filter in the first place.

"You're beautiful," He whispered.

Your face went bright red.

"Thank you," You said softly.

You were both silent as you helped him sit back on his throne of roots, and you knelt in front of him, squeezing his hands to grab his attention before his thoughts could start to wander again.

"I trust you Wrecker, I promise. More than even your brothers."

"More than Hunter?" Wrecker asked in surprise.

You nodded, "I promise. Never for a second think that I don't trust you, because I do. Why do you think I always ask you to be my backup every time we have to split up? It's because I know I can trust you to watch out for me the way I look out for you."

Wrecker rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, "Well, I trust you too, General." He said.

You sighed, and opened up your arms, "Get over here, you big goof," you wrapped your arms around his neck, and even before Wrecker could reciprocate, you pressed a kiss to the side of his head.

Wrecker enveloped you in his own arms, holding you close. He may not know exactly what this meant for the two of you, but he might have to get injured more often to find out.

#TBBE24 #lizart writes #tbb gift exchange #wrecker x reader #wrecker x you #tbb wrecker x reader #tbb wrecker x you #wrecker bad batch x reader #wrecker bad batch x you #the bad batch wrecker x reader #the bad batch wrecker x you #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch x you

[disastertriowriting]

It's been a while since we've done an exchange, but we're back!!!

And we're here with an Anakin-Clone Appreciation Exchange! :D

Unlike previously, we're hosting this one on ao3. Gonna be a new experience for all of us, so please be patient while we figure this out!

This is our most important rule:

This is a gift exchange to appreciate the relationships between Anakin (or Vader) and the clones. As such, character bashing is NOT welcome. Bashing on Anakin or any of the clones is not welcome.

This exchange is NOT limited solely to "gen" fics. This is an exchange to appreciate all relationships with Anakin and the clones, regardless of their nature. :)

Both fanfics and fanart are welcome!!! :D

Here's our planned schedule for this exchange!

Sign ups open: April 7th

Sign ups close: May 5th

Assignments due: July 8th

Works Revealed: July 15th

Creators Revealed: July 22nd

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #fanfiction #fanart #star wars fanart #gift exchange #anakin #anakin skywalker #anakin and the clones #the clone wars #clones #rex #cody #fives #echo #jesse #kix #hardcase #fox #the bad batch #hunter #tech #wrecker #crosshair #omega #emerie #501st legion #platonic relationships #romantic relationships

[dystopicjumpsuit]

I Wish All Readers a Very Hunter Life Day

A/N: This is a gift for @captainpains for the @cloneficgiftexchange Life Day Exchange. Prompt (will be in BOLD RED): "I know I love you and all, but you are really making this really hard for me!"

Pairing: Hunter x Reader (Fem; has hair)

Rating: M (minors DNI)

Wordcount: 2K

Warnings and tags: a minor guilt trip; light Life Day angst with a happy ending; Hunter is in his fratboy era; SMUT; hair pulling; oral sex; rough sex; biting; marking; dirty talk; praise kink; glove kink; armor kink; protected PIV (Reader is on space birth control/STI protection); strong language; fluff

Summary: Hunter may be a bit of a Life Day Grinch, but that doesn’t stop him from distracting you when the war threatens to keep you from spending Life Day with your family.

Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list

Hunter didn’t mean to eavesdrop. If anything, you dropped the eave on him. He stalked toward the Marauder, supplies in tow after a successful run to the open-air market on this Maker-forsaken backwater of a planet. As he approached the ship, his enhanced senses meant he couldn’t help overhearing your low, strained voice—or the fact that you were definitely crying.

“I wish I could be there, but there’s just no way,” you said.

“I just don’t want you to miss your nephew’s first Life Day, sweetie.” 

The woman’s voice was unfamiliar, and Hunter slowed down, analyzing the situation.

“I know, Mom…” you sniffled a little bit. “I love you, but you are making this really hard for me. It’s not like I asked to be deployed to an active war zone.”

Hunter stopped in his tracks, frowning. He knew Life Day was coming up, but to be honest, he hadn’t thought much about it. It had always seemed more like a holiday for nat-borns, though he knew some of the regs had started to join in the celebrations since the war had broken out and they’d begun to interact with beings from other cultures.

It all seemed a bit excessive, if he was honest. A whole festival, just to celebrate family? He spent all his time with his brothers. He didn’t need to binge-watch Holomark Life Day flicks and decorate a kriffin’ tree, too—no matter how many times Wrecker asked. 

But still. You were a nat-born, and for the first time, it occurred to him just how much of a strain it must be on you to be plunged into the chaos and peril of the battlefield without even having the comfort of your family close by. You’d never mentioned it, and he had never wondered why until now.

He walked up the ramp of the Marauder, stomping a little harder than necessary to give you ample warning that he was back, and he heard you hurriedly end the comm just before he entered the ship.

“Hey,” you said with a forced smile. “Supply run go okay?”

“Mm-hmm,” he grunted, dropping the crate and kicking off the lid.

“Where’s the rest of the squad?”

“Still out,” he replied, moving closer to you and raising his hand to your chin, tilting your face so he could inspect it. “You’ve been cryin’.”

Your eyes widened, and you pulled away. “No, I haven’t.”

He let you go, ignoring your blatant lie. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Nothing to talk about,” you replied, dumping out the crate and beginning to stash the supplies in a cabinet.

He watched you silently for a moment, then crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall, his gaze fixed on your face. “Wanna forget about it?”

You huffed an impatient laugh through your nose as you continued your work. “Why? Did you buy some kyrf while you were at the market?”

Hunter grimaced at your jab, remembering the particularly horrific after-effects of too many shots of kyrf liquor the last time the squad went to 79’s on shore leave. “That’s not exactly what I had in mind.”

“What, then?” You tossed the last of the supplies into the cabinet, then slammed the door and turned to him.

His dark eyes dropped to your lips. “I could distract you.”

You stared back at him in silence for a long beat. You couldn’t possibly have heard him right.

“What?” you asked blankly. 

He smirked—damn his stupid, handsome face—and leaned closer to you. You resisted the urge to swallow when he did, knowing he’d hear you. Instead, you put on your grumpiest expression and deflected like a champ.

“I’m not playing sabacc with you again,” you said with a scowl. “You cheat.”

“I just notice your tells. That's not cheating.”

“It is when you have enhanced senses,” you retorted.

“Not like I can turn ‘em off,” he pointed out. “For example, right now, you have a tell.”

You raised your eyebrows but didn’t respond. He reached out and trailed his fingertips up the inside of your wrist, leaning close enough to whisper in your ear.

“Your heart is racing, little one.”

You yanked your wrist away from him. “That’s not funny.”

“I’m not joking.” His gaze filled with an intense heat as he stared into your eyes. His face was close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from his skin. “The others won’t be back for hours. It’s your call. Tell me to piss off, and I’ll go for a run and never touch you again. Or…”

Your heart hammered in your chest, and you just knew the cocky son of a tube could hear it. Your voice sounded embarrassingly breathless as you echoed, “Or…”

“... or, you could let me take your mind off things.”

You forced yourself to breathe at a normal pace—maybe even too normal; who karking knew? Hunter, that’s who, you thought bitterly. He probably has the whole damned squad’s breathing patterns memorized. You considered his offer, not that it was easy to make a rational decision when he was standing so close to you, smelling goddamned delicious and looking even better. 

Gods, his mouth is just. Right. There.

When you didn’t reply after a few moments, he asked, “I think we’ve been dancing around this long enough, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I guess we have.”

Duraplast armor made a surprisingly good handle as you grabbed him and pulled him against yourself. Your lips crashed together. His hands cupped your face and his fingers tangled in your hair as teeth and tongues clashed, your bodies coming together in a desperate, frantic embrace. Your hands scrambled and roamed over his armor as you searched for access that you simply couldn’t find.

You growled with frustration, and Hunter laughed quietly as he kissed his way across your jaw and down your throat. “Why the hurry, pretty girl? We’ve got time.”

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you hadn’t gotten laid in as many months as me,” you muttered, fumbling at his crotchplate. “How the kriff does this thing work?!”

A telltale zipping sound alerted you to the fact that Hunter was having significantly more success in getting you out of your flightsuit. He tugged it down your shoulders and let it drop down your body, following its progress with his mouth. He reached your compression bra and yanked it off over your head. You had no idea where it landed as he flung it across the ship, but you hoped it wouldn’t be too hard to locate it later.

That’d be fun to explain to Crosshair, you thought with a slightly horrified shudder.

Any concerns you had about your missing undergarment fled your mind about half a second later. Hunter’s lips closed around your nipple, swirling his tongue as he squeezed and teased your other breast, the rough fabric of his glove providing a shockingly pleasurable abrasion. Your head fell backward to rest against the durasteel wall, a hoarse moan tearing from your throat.

Hunter responded immediately, scraping his teeth across your skin, then smoothing his warm tongue over the bite mark. You shivered at the sensation, and he dropped abruptly to his knees, gripping your ass in both hands as he pulled you hard against his face. His tongue slid into you as his lips pressed over your cunt.

“Oh, fuck,” he murmured. “You’re delicious. And wet, holy kriff. So, so wet—”

Your legs nearly gave out, and you clutched his head for balance.

“Goddamn,” he hissed as your fingers tangled in his hair. “Pull it harder.”

You complied, tugging his hair firmly, and his eyes drifted blissfully closed as he leaned close and breathed in your scent. He flicked his tongue over your clit and back into you again and again, alternating between kissing and licking and sucking on your sensitive skin until your legs trembled. Distantly, you heard a clatter of plastoid on durasteel, and then he stood, spinning you around and pushing you forward to lean against the wall of the ship as he gripped your hips and pressed his knee between your thighs, urging them apart.

“Implant?” he asked hoarsely.

“Y—yes,” you confirmed, forcing your brain to focus on the question.

You felt his cock nudge between your thighs, and then he thrust into you, barely giving you time to adjust. His cuisses were cold as they pressed against your thighs, hard against your soft skin, and his hand snaked around your body to cup your breast as he pulled you upright and backward onto his chest. He held you upright as he thrust into you, and with his other hand, he slid his fingers over your cunt, massaging your clit and pressing against your mound firmly. He was still wearing his gloves, and the fabric felt unbelievable on your skin.

“You like it rough, don’t you, pretty girl?” he growled in your ear. “You like it when I use that perfect little pussy, don’t you, sweet thing?”

“Yes,” you gasped, your breath punching out of your lungs as he thrust particularly hard into you. “Fuck, yes—”

He sank his teeth into your shoulder abruptly, and your words cut off in a scream. He began to work his fingertips in tight, rapid circles over your clit as he kissed over your sore, abused skin. That’s definitely leaving a mark, you thought distantly, as a rush of fresh arousal flooded you.

“That’s right,” he murmured smoothly. “Just like that, good girl. Sweet little doll, taking my cock so well. Gonna come for me?”

“Uh-huh,” you groaned, feeling all the muscles in your center begin to tense.

“Use your words, little one,” he whispered, his breath teasing your neck and ear as his teeth closed softly on your earlobe.

“I am—I’m—FUCK!” You cried out loudly as your orgasm tore through you, pleasure exploding from the base of your spine and bursting through your body.

“That’s it, love,” he said, speeding up his pace. “Feels so good—so fuckin’ perfect, such a good girl—where do you want it, darlin’?”

“Inside,” you gasped.

“You sure?” he asked, his hips stuttering slightly as his hand suddenly clenched harder around your breast.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “Fill me up.”

“Fu—ah, kriff!” he grunted, thrusting hard, and you felt heat flood your cunt as he spilled into you. 

He pressed his hot, open mouth against your neck, sucking hard on your skin as he groaned loudly, clutching you hard against his rigid armor in an almost painfully tight embrace. Slowly, he loosened his grip, reaching out to lean his forearm against the wall in front of you for support.

“You all right?” he panted, kissing your head gently.

“Yeah,” you replied. 

“Armor didn’t hurt?”

“No, it was actually kind of hot,” you replied. “I can’t lie, I was kind of hoping to see how far down your tattoo goes, though.”

He laughed quietly into your hair. “Who said we’re finished? I told you the squad wouldn’t be back for hours.”

Two weeks later, the Marauder lurched and dropped out of hyperspace. You glanced up from your datapad, curious.

“Are we back to Coruscant already? I thought we wouldn’t arrive until tomorrow.”

“We require an emergency stop for repairs,” Tech replied.

You looked out the viewport and gasped as you recognized a familiar sight. “Tech, this is my home planet!”

“That so?” A quiet, smoky voice sounded from close behind you. You turned to see Hunter leaning against the cockpit doorway, an inscrutable expression on his face.

“Unfortunately, it appears that every part supply shop in the system is closed to observe the final rotation of the Life Day celebration,” Tech said. 

“Shame,” Hunter remarked. “Guess we’ll have to stick around at least until tomorrow.”

You stared at Hunter, and then at Tech, and finally out the viewport at the swirling atmosphere of your homeworld.

“Don’t suppose you know anywhere worth visiting in this system,” Wrecker said with a twinkle in his good eye as he joined you in the cockpit.

Your eyes stung with unexpected tears that you ruthlessly blinked back as you turned to look at your squad, who watched you with varying degrees of interest. Your heart squeezed.

“Yeah,” you replied at last. “How would you boys like to meet my other family?”

---

Want more Hunter x Reader? Check out this fluffy, slightly sexy first kiss ficlet.

#wrecker painstakingly hand-painted the ornaments in the dividers #he's a life day girlie #the reason hunter knows about holomark life day flicks is because wrecker binge watches them every year #the twinkle lights wrecker hung up in the gunner's mount when he turned it into omega's room were from his personal life day stash #clone fic gift exchange #LDE23 #hunter x reader #tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter #sergeant hunter #the bad batch #star wars #bad batch fanfic #star wars fanfiction #dystopicjumpsuit writes

[starrylothcat]

Pairing: Echo x Reader

Summary: Echo knows you are alone on Life Day Eve and wants to spend the holiday with you.

Warnings: Light angst/meloncholy related to the holidays, kissing/making out, slight allusion to sexy times but not described and nothing explicit. Fluffy and happy ending. 🎄

WC: 2676

A/N: This is a gift for @cc--2224 as part of the Life Day Fic Exchange hosted by @cloneficgiftexchange !

I played with ideas from the prompt: Having no one to spend the holidays with and being invited out/over to spend it with [x clone].

❄️ Happy Holidays and I hope you enjoy @cc--2224 ! ❄️

The sun was setting, and delicate rays of light poured into the streets from residences up and down every street on Pabu.

Life Day lights began twinkling on above doors and around windows as the sun sunk beyond the horizon.

Laughter and melodic tunes floated in the air, along with mouth-watering aromas from holiday feasts being set out on tables for friends and family to enjoy.

Echo stood outside your small Pabu cafe, trying to steady his nerves. He was clutching a bottle of rare Tevraki whiskey in his hand, something he had been saving for some time.

Your neon “Open” sign was switched off and the cafe was dark, though a string of Life Day lights flickered above your storefront sign.

You lived in a small apartment in the back of the cafe, and Echo could see a dim light illuminating your living room window.

It was Life Day Eve, and Echo knew you were alone.

Echo had been frequenting your cafe for a while now, making a point to come in the early mornings when your delectable baked goods were fresh out of the nanowave oven.

The more he got to know you, sipping caf and sharing stories and smiles, the more he realized he was catching feelings.

It started small, at first. Little fleeting flutters of his heart when he entered your cafe, knowing you’d be behind the counter. His face warming when you’d laugh, a wonderful medolic laugh that made those flutters in his chest beat like a porg’s wings trying its damdest to fly.

When he was away on missions with Rex, he thought more and more of you, truly missing you and how he felt when he was in your presence.

He felt…safe. Comfortable. At ease. Emotions he hasn’t felt in a long, long time.

You were kind and generous to everyone who entered your cafe and went out of your way to help the people of Pabu. You often hand-delivered bespoke baked goods to new arrivals to make them feel at home.

Echo admired your kind heart, quiet strength, and warm demeanor. It took him time to fully realize what he was feeling, but let it happen. Echo had been thinking more and more of his future, especially now that he was in control of his destiny for the first time in his life.

He had much taken from him, his very soul used against his will. He was given a second chance, and he was not going to waste it.

So when Echo discovered you were spending the holiday by yourself, he knew he couldn’t let you be alone, not tonight.

You cared so much about Life Day, just the day before describing your fond memories of celebrating with your family as a child. You were a refugee like most Pabu residents, and you’ve been unable to see your family for many years due to the war.

Echo picked up the melancholy in your voice and how your body language changed when you spoke of your memories, a heavy weight anchoring you down knowing it was another Life Day without them.

Echo had his brothers and Omega. He was incredibly lucky to have a support structure, even after all he had been through.

The thought of you having no one to celebrate with didn’t sit right with him, so he decided to surprise you with a bottle of whiskey he purchased some time ago, a drink he used to share with Fives on this very holiday.

Echo found himself with a similar weight in his chest this cycle, thinking of Fives. Life Day was Five’s favorite holiday, and Echo had many memories of him and Fives savoring this drink on this nat-born holiday, cheering their brothers, and speaking of their hopes for the future.

Echo couldn’t think of anyone else he’d want to share this drink with tonight. Not even his own brothers. But you.

Now Echo stood in front of your door, hesitating for a moment, hoping he wasn’t coming on too strongly.

Echo never had time for relationships and was currently flying by the seat of his pants, but wasn’t dumb.

Echo has noticed how your expression softens when you look at him, or how your hand always brushes against his every time he hands you credits for his caf, touching his hand just long enough to be noticeable.

He was here as a friend, as much as he wanted to be more than friends. He wanted to kiss you, hold you, and let you know just how much you meant to him.

Echo wanted to respect your boundaries, though, and if you just wanted to be friends, he would continue to stand by your side as that and nothing more.

Echo took a breath and walked to the back of your cafe, up to your front door that was adorned with a Life Day wreath.

He tapped on your front door with his scomp.

It was now or never.

He waited a moment, hearing quiet music playing and some shuffling.

“Hello?” Your voice called from behind your door.

“It’s Echo.”

Your door clicked open, revealing your face, warm light spilling out, illuminating Echo who stood before you.

You were wearing your apron, the one you always adorned in the storefront, and Echo could immediately smell something sweet drifting from your kitchen.

“Echo!” Your face lit up. “What are you doing here?” You looked surprised, glancing at the whiskey in his hand.

“Thought you could use some company tonight.” Echo held it up, trying his best to act casual.

Your lips parted in a delicate oh, a blush warming your cheeks as you took in the man you are seriously crushing on standing in your doorway.

“Echo…you didn’t have to…I’m sure you have plans with your brothers…?”

Echo shook his head. “I want to be here, with you. You shouldn't have to spend the holiday alone.”

A genuine smile graced your features and Echo felt the tension in his shoulders dissipate.

You stepped to the side, gesturing inside. “Please, come in!

Echo stepped inside your small home. It was cozy, with a few dim lamps casting a pleasing glow throughout your living space. A Life Day tree was tucked in the corner of your living room and sparkling lights lined the ceiling, adding a magical feel to the space.

Your dining room table had racks of tooka-shaped cookies cooling, the culprit of the delicious smell.

“Sorry for the mess.” You walked to your kitchen, opening a cabinet to grab glasses. “I wasn’t expecting company…” You laughed, reaching with your tiptoes into the cupboard.

“No need to apologize. I’m the one intruding.” Echo stood near the table, placing the whiskey bottle down where there was space.

You walked back over to him, holding the glasses.

“No, not at all, Echo. I’m…really glad you’re here.”

You smiled your beautiful smile that Echo replayed endlessly in his head, making his heart do flips in his chest.

“Hope you like whiskey.” Echo said, “I used to drink this with my brother on Life Day. We’d save up credits for months to get a bottle.”

You scooted a rack of cookies out of the way, placing the glasses on the table.

“I’m honored you’re sharing it with me.” You untied your apron, draping it over a nearby chair.

“And yes, I do like whiskey, so you will have to share.” Your eyes held a mirthful glow, the Life Day lights hanging above mirrored in your irises.

Echo’s heart was thumping as he poured you each a glass of the amber liquid.

You gestured toward your couch. “Shall we?”

Echo sat next to you on your couch, sinking into the comfortable cushions as you settled near him. The couch was small, leaving little room between you.

You cradled your glass of whiskey, the lights from your tree reflecting off the crystaline glasses. A comfortable silence spreading between the two of you, only interrupted by the music playing from your radio.

Echo looked so handsome in the glow of your lights. His jaw was set, strong, and stubbled. His skin had gained some color back from the Pabu sun, and you could see his muscular shoulders tight against the civilian clothes he was wearing.

You have known Echo for some time now, ever since he and his brothers first came to the tropical planet. He stopped by your cafe every morning he could for caf and a spice cake. You learned some of his story before Pabu, but not all. You knew how he got his cybernetics, a story he told you early one morning in your shop.

Your heart broke for him but admired his resilience and ever-present strength. It’s one of the many reasons why you have fallen for him.

“Thank you, Echo.” Your eyes met his brown ones, butterflies coming to life in your stomach.

“I didn’t mean to give you my whole sob story yesterday…I usually keep myself busy on Life Day, as you can see.” You motioned behind you to all the cookies.

Echo shook his head. “Don’t apologize. The holiday can be hard on everyone, especially now. I’ve been thinking more of my brother, and it hurts knowing he can’t be here. You’re not alone in this.”

He lifted his glass of whiskey toward you.

“Cheers.” He said, clinking his glass against yours. “To friends and family.”

“Cheers.” You replied, “To friends and family.”

You both sipped the sweet alcohol, enjoying the warmth in your chest it provided as you swallowed.

“You and your brother had good taste.” You smiled behind your glass, taking another small sip, savoring the drink.

Echo chuckled.

“Glad you think so.”

You watched something flash across Echo’s eyes.

Echo had told you a little about Fives in passing, but not much.

“I’m sure he’d be happy that you are continuing your tradition.”

Echo nodded, a small, sentimental smile pulling at his lips.

“Yeah…he was a good man. One of the best I’ve ever known.”

“Tell me about him,” you started. “Only if you want, though.”

Echo knew Fives would be happy for him, and while he desperately wished he could be here, talking about him lifted the stone off his chest that had settled ever since he saw this whiskey.

He told you of the first time they bought this drink, and almost getting caught with it in their bunk when they were cadets.

The night went on, trading stories of the past, you talking of your family and Life Day traditions, and Echo speaking of his brothers, reminiscing on the trouble he and Fives used to get up to.

There was a newfound intimacy between the two of you, for once not just talking in your cafe. Echo had never felt closer to you than now, watching how your features glowed under the lights, talking of fond memories and the current goings on in Pabu.

You weren’t sure when it happened, but you ended up sitting close enough to Echo that your legs were almost touching.

Your conversation lulled, and Echo glanced at your chrono, seeing how late it was, well past midnight.

Time always went by so quickly with you. That peaceful serenity that he only felt with you had overtaken him, not wanting it to end.

“I didn’t mean to keep you this late.” He spoke softly. “I should go.”

Without thinking, your hand shot to his knee, feeling the hard metal underneath his clothing.

“You don’t have to go, not yet.” You said quickly.

You didn’t want him to leave. Your gaze met his, your hand still on his cybernetic knee.

Echo’s honeyed eyes swam with emotion, feeling your hand on his knee slide up toward his thigh, where his skin began.

Echo, spurred on by your touch and maybe a little bit of the whiskey, laid his hand atop yours. The gentleness of your hand contrasted with his larger, calloused palm.

Your eyes darted to where your hands met, and back to his.

Echo whispered your name so quietly you almost missed it over the thrumming of your own heart.

“Thank you for being here tonight.” You took a breath.

“I know we both have people we are missing right now…it’s usually a difficult time for me, but this is the happiest I’ve felt in a long time.”

Your voice was quiet too, enjoying the weight of his hand atop yours.

“You…mean a lot to me, Echo.”

Echo’s eyes widened slightly, heat rushing up his neck, hoping he was hearing you correctly.

“You mean a lot to me, too.” Echo’s hand lightly squeezed yours, your confessions hanging around you as excitement flooded your systems, realizing you both felt the same.

The air was suddenly thick, a magnetic pull tugging at both of you toward one another.

You were so close now, his nose brushing against yours as you both tentatively leaned in, your lips just centimeters away as you slowly closed the distance.

Finally, your lips touched, soft and chaste, his scomp lifting to gently trace down your arm as his lips captured yours.

Echo felt as if sparks were going off in his entire body, your lips sweeter than he imagined. He never wanted to let go of this moment.

It was pure bliss to kiss you, Echo’s mind solely focusing on you, how you felt, the way your breath hitched when he brought his hand to cup your face, gently caressing his thumb under your eye.

You pulled away, already missing his spicy musk and surprisingly plush lips.

“This is the happiest I’ve felt in a long time, too.” Echo traced his knuckle down your cheek. “And it’s because of you. It’s always because of you.”

You leaned in again, overwhelmed by emotion, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing him into a more passionate and fervent kiss.

Everything that had been building between the two of you didn’t need to be spoken, the way your mouths danced and hands roamed one another’s bodies spoke for itself.

You sighed into his mouth as he shyly slid his tongue across your lower lip, politely asking for more.

His hand cradled the back of your head, entangling in your hair as your kiss deepened.

Emboldened, Echo broke the steamy kiss and traced his mouth down your jawline, placing hot kisses slowly down your neck.

The quiet whimpers that left your swollen lips ignited his body with passion, hoping he hadn’t fallen asleep on your couch and this was just a dream.

Echo lavished your skin, making his way back up to your lips for another profoundly devoted kiss.

When you both finally pulled away to catch your breaths, your lips were shiny with saliva, and your bodies flushed.

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh as Echo held you against his strong body.

“Do you still want to go?” You asked.

Echo shook his head.

“I think you convinced me to stay.”

He brushed his lips against yours, slowly leaning you back on the couch, until you were laying down and he was above you.

You looked up at him through hooded eyelids as he took in your form beneath him, your soft body pliable against his.

“Can’t let you wake up alone on Life Day, either.” Echo’s voice was deliciously deeper than usual as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss right under your ear, causing you to shudder in delight.

Echo waited for your answer, not wanting to take things further than you wanted.

“No, you can’t.” You replied, pulling him down flush against you, your lips meeting again, your bodies entwining.

When you awoke the next morning in one another’s arms, for the first Life Day in a long time, you both felt indescribable happiness.

As you drifted off the night before, speaking softly to one another in the afterglow of your ignited feelings for one another, Echo was afraid when he woke up, that peace he felt only with you would be gone. Or that maybe you’d only wanted that one night with him, and nothing more.

The feeling was still there, even stronger than before. His fears dissipated when you left feather-light kisses across his chest, asking if he’d like to stay for breakfast and help decorate some of the cookies you had made last night.

Echo wholeheartedly agreed, inviting you to the dinner Hunter was hosting that evening with Omega and the rest of his brothers.

The heaviness that had settled over both of you leading up to the holiday had lifted away, replaced with glimmering elation and harmony that only you could give one another, knowing you would never have to be alone on Life Day ever again.

⋆｡˚❆˚ ⋆ Comments & Reblogs Appreciated! ⋆｡˚❆˚ ｡

Dividers by @saradika

#echo x reader #echo tbb #arc trooper echo #the clone wars #the bad batch #life day #star wars fanfiction #clone fic gift exchange #echo tbb x reader #tbb echo x reader #clone trooper echo #clone x reader #the bad batch fanfiction #the bad batch x reader #starrycatwrites #clone trooper echo x reader #echo fanfiction #x reader #echo x you #lde23 #echo tbb x you

[wizardofrozz]

TBB Hunter x Reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: Just straight fluff 🥰

A/N: This is my gift for @isaidonyourknees for the Life Day gift exchange hosted by @cloneficgiftexchange 💙

I used the prompt "Midnight snack run" and I hope you enjoy it @isaidonyourknees!! 🤍🩵

The Marauder was quiet...well quiet if you ignored Wrecker’s muffled snoring a few feet away where he was lying face down on the floor. You turned your head, looking over the side of the bunk, smiling to yourself as you watched him before turning your attention to the body crammed into the bunk beside you. Hunter’s mouth was open, much softer snores filling the air, his bandana pulled down over his eyes. You envied the brothers and their ability to sleep just about anywhere, especially on nights like this one where sleep was just out of reach. Forcing your eyes closed, you tried to will yourself to sleep but what felt like only seconds passed before your eyes popped open again. 

You glanced at Hunter one last time before blowing out a long sigh. Moving quietly had become second nature around Hunter, especially during the time he managed to fall into a deep sleep. You were silent as you climbed down, Wrecker’s snoring covering up the soft hiss that whistled through your teeth when your feet met frigid durasteel. Your eyes dropped down to the bottom bunk, a small smile lifting the corner of your mouth as you pulled the blanket up over Echo’s shoulders. You knew he hated the cold. 

The ship was a mess but you’d spent long enough navigating it that tiptoeing around the items strewn across the floor took no thought. You absently glanced at the bunk again as you grabbed your boots, smiling softly when you noticed Hunter had rolled on his side, curling in on himself. The insoles were stiff from the cold, muffled slightly by the thick socks you grabbed. You double-checked that the small pouch of credits was still in the pocket of your coat before grabbing your gloves and heading for the ramp, glancing into the cockpit. 

Faint lights danced across the ceiling and you stifled a giggle when you caught a glimpse of the top of Tech’s head peaking out from the side of the chair. You rolled your eyes, knowing his neck would be sore in the morning but waking him wouldn’t do any good.

The ramp lowering was silent but you held your breath, anxiously watching the siblings you could see. Echo shivered at the rush of cold air but no one made any sudden movements. Snow crunched under your boots as you hurried out of the ship, shutting the ramp as quickly as possible. Once it sealed with a quiet hiss you let out a long breath and huddled down into your coat.

The snow glistened in the moonlight like thousands of little gems scattered across the ground. The rush of cold air wasn’t the only thing making your chest feel tight as you looked out over the pristine white blanket. You almost felt bad disrupting the beauty of it as you slowly started toward the path leading to the small town. 

It wasn’t Wrecker’s snoring that woke him; Hunter had learned to ignore his brother over the years. No, it was the absence of one specific sound. It was useless to open his eyes with the bandana covering them so Hunter blindly swiped his hand over the warm bedding. With a soft groan, he pushed the piece of fabric onto his forehead, blinking a few times to clear the fog from his eyes. Hunter couldn’t hear the unique pitter-patter of your heartbeat anywhere on the ship and his brows pulled together. 

Silently, Hunter slid off the bunk, searching for the civilian clothing he'd been wearing the day before. Without removing his blacks, he slid the thicker pants and thermal shirt on, unceremoniously shoving his feet into his boots. Hunter fixed his bandana before grabbing the heavy coat you had insisted each of them get and made for the ramp. Silence fell over the ship and Hunter strained to hear Omega’s even breathing; it helped calm his racing heart slightly. Tech’s breathing hitched when the ramp groaned quietly but it quickly evened out again. 

Your footprints were the first thing Hunter noticed, and he hopped off the side of the ramp, absently hitting the control panel. He followed the path you had taken only to freeze when he lifted his head. You were a few yards ahead of him, stopped under the bare trees lining the path that led toward the town, your head tilted back admiring the snow-covered branches. A small, admittedly relieved, smile lifted the corner of his mouth as he carefully moved closer. 

The crunch of snow under his boots made your heart skip and he stopped, biting back a smile when you spun around, looking ready for a fight; Hunter couldn’t deny that he was proud. 

“Hunter! You scared me half to death,” you scolded, resting a hand on your chest. The gentle yet icy breeze blew a few strands of your hand around your face and if you didn’t look ready to throw snow at him, he’d tell you how beautiful you looked. 

“Sorry, cyar’ika,” he chuckled, moving closer. “Could say the same about you.” Your expression shifted, a sheepish smile spreading across your face. 

“I couldn’t sleep,” you explained, wrapping your coat tighter around yourself. “Thought I’d see about a midnight snack. Care to join me?”

“‘Course,” Hunter replied with a smile and offered his arm. You looped your arm with his, beaming up at him and Hunter leaned over, kissing your temple.

Flurries drifted down from the trees overhead, dotting your hair and cheeks, bringing a smile to your face that nearly stole Hunter's breath. The silence was pleasant and before he knew it, the lights of the small town came into view, dotting the snow with splashes of color. 

The single all-night shop was pleasantly warm, making you sigh softly at the sudden temperature change. The young man behind the counter didn’t spare you a glance as you wandered through the store, Hunter on your heels. Your intrigued hum caught his attention and he looked over your shoulder, resting a hand on your side. The prepackaged fruit-filled pastry didn’t look like anything special but apparently, it has caught your attention. 

“Tech was telling me about the fruit native to this planet,” you explained, tapping the name before turning your head to look at him. “Do you wanna try one too?”

“I’ll try yours.” You rolled your eyes but there was a hint of a smile on your face. “Better get Wrecker and Omega one too.”

‘Well, of course,” you giggled, kissing his cheek. After another few minutes and a couple of other treats, you led Hunter back into the cold night air, already pulling one of the pastries out of the bag. He took the bag without prompting, watching you hesitantly take a bite of the fluffy dough. 

“Good I take it,” he commented when your brows lifted. 

“Here try,” you mumbled around a mouthful, holding the treat toward him. Hunter could smell the sweetness already but it was surprisingly subtle. The fruit filling was unusually tart and he hummed, finding that he actually didn’t mind it. 

“Not as sweet as I was expecting,” he said once he swallowed. The expression on your face was far too smug and Hunter rolled his eyes, hooking his arm around your shoulders, pulling you against his side. Your laughter was bright and carefree, a rarity for them recently and Hunter cherished it. 

“As I was saying earlier, Tech and I were talking about it earlier. Specifically how you’d probably like it, seeing that anything too sweet bothers you.”

“You’re sweet but I keep you around,” Hunter teases, kissing your forehead.

“Smooth, sarge,” you laughed, resting your head against his shoulder. 

“I thought so,” he mumbled, hiding his smile against your hair. 

The Marauder came into view suddenly and Hunter’s stiff fingers were grateful. Glancing down at you he concluded the cold was starting to get to you too and pulled you a little closer. 

“Think you can sleep now?”

“I hope so,” you huffed, shoving your hands under your arms. “But above all else, I want to get warm again.”

“You did this to yourself,” Hunter mumbled, smirking when you smacked his stomach, a quiet laugh bubbling past his lips. 

Tech hadn’t moved, not that Hunter had expected him to, and he herded you toward the bunks again, waiting for the hatch to close. You quickly hid the treats with your things, winking at him when he stepped out of the cockpit. Quickly shedding your extra layers you climbed back into bed as Hunter stripped to his blacks again. Echo shifted, the whites of his eyes standing out in the otherwise dark ship.

“Wha?” Echo mumbled, blinking up at Hunter. 

“Go back to bed,” Hunter whispered, reaching down to lightly rub Echo’s arm before climbing up to join you. You had your back against the wall, holding the blanket up for him. He barely got settled before you curled into his chest, pressing your ice-cold nose against his collarbone. 

“Sorry for waking you,” you mumbled, draping your arm over his waist. Hunter smiled, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, and pressing his lips against the top of your head. 

“Don’t be. I liked our little adventure,” he replied quietly, rubbing between your shoulders. 

“Love you,” you slurred, your breathing already slowing. Hunter kissed your hair, letting his eyes drift shut as he listened to the thump of your heartbeat. 

“Love you too, cyar’ika.” Sleep was precious to them...but in a galaxy filled with sorrow, it was the little adventures that made it worth living.

#tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter #hunter tbb x reader #clone fic gift exchange #life day gift exchange #the bad batch hunter x reader #the bad batch #star wars

[cc--2224]

Comfort

Pairing: Tech x Reader

Summary: You planned the perfect Life Day trip for yourself and Tech, positive that everything will go perfectly. When it doesn't, Tech is able to cheer you up and comfort you.

Warnings: Perhaps a touch of angst but it's generally all fluff

Notes: This was written for the Life Day Fic exchange @cloneficgiftexchange for @clone-anon HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!

Prompts: I tried to use them all as best as I could but as requested - first life day together || stuck in a storm and forehead kisses || "wait, please don't go" || one bed trope next morning with "is it weird I'm comfortable"

Word Count: ~1.9k

Read on AO3 Here

Taglist: None, let me know if you'd like to be added!

Masterlist

You always loved to celebrate the holidays with your friends and loved ones and knowing that this would be your first Life Day with Tech made you even more excited. You had a tendency to go a little overboard with preparations, but one of the first things Tech noticed about you was how much fun you had making plans; whether it was briefing before a mission, or even something as small as going to the best markets for supplies and rations. He began to love how much thought you’d put into everything you did.

But when you approached him about spending the holidays together, he was a little apprehensive. He and his brothers had never done anything for Life Day, it wasn't something the Kaminoans ever observed, and during the war it was the last thing on anyone’s mind, so he wasn't sure exactly what he was supposed to do. He relaxed when you had told him that you would handle everything, and eventually agreed.

The first thing you decided on was renting out a small cabin. You decided on a room with two beds, making sure there would be plenty of room for both of you to be comfortable. You hadn't been together very long, there was the occasional hug or kiss on the cheek, but you hadn't quite been able to broach the topic of cuddling with a man who was very protective over his space, so for a first Life Day, this was a better option.

The activities were next. You always loved spending the day before Life Day venturing out and looking at the decorations people had. Festive string lights, standees or statues of Wookiees in red robes, holiday candies, you loved when people went all out, and you always enjoyed being able to share that with the people you love. Even if it was cold, snow was always welcome, a gentle snowfall always made this time extra special. And then when you'd get home after seeing all the beautiful decorations, you'd always put on a holofilm to enjoy with your loved ones as a relaxing way to end the day.

You also made sure that, while it wasn't necessary, you had a gift for Tech. It was difficult to shop for him, but you knew it was worth it. The market stalls you visited didn't seem to have much that really stood out, not for Tech anyway. You wanted his gift to be special. He seemed like the type of person who, if you were to ask what to get him, he would list things he needed to make repairs to the Marauder, and while you'd happily buy them for him if that's what he truly wanted, it didn't seem like a good enough gift. He deserved something to use for himself rather than to use to work on the ship. You had soon passed by a shop with some newer devices, including a datapad that had just become commercially available. You knew Tech had always been fiddling with his, and you'd heard him complain about it more than once, so in your indecision of what to get him, you decided to at least start there. It seemed easier to buy something for the others than it was for Tech; a Loth cat stuffy for Wrecker, a new knife for Hunter, and a seemingly endless box of toothpicks for Crosshair.

But, with all of that out of the way, you could really focus on finalizing your plans for your time with Tech, and when Life Day finally rolled around, you felt completely prepared for it, and your excitement was palpable. Even Tech seemed excited, though you weren't sure how much of it was excitement rather than curiosity.

The morning of your reservation at the cabin, the others dropped you and Tech off, sending you with their best wishes and reminding you to comm them when you wanted to be picked up.

Before you left the ship, Hunter pulled you aside. "Something seems off today. It feels like a storm's coming. I hope it doesn't mess up your plans, but... just be careful, and comm us when you want us to come get you."

You tried not to take his warning to heart, you knew he was probably right, but you didn't want to think about anything getting in the way of your plans. With a quick nod and reassuring smile, you left the Marauder with Tech following behind you.

Hunter's warning was only the first of your problems. The second was the cabin itself.

It was a beautiful location, and when you opened the door, it seemed welcoming and comfortable, but perhaps a little too cozy.

Heat flooded your cheeks as you noticed the lack of a second bed, and panic began setting in at the thought of making Tech uncomfortable.

"I swear, I requested two beds! I even double checked when they confirmed it I-"

Tech shrugged. "It must have been a mistake on their part. Or perhaps, they had assumed any couple reserving a place to stay would only want one bed."

"I promise I will fix this, I'm so sorry." You couldn't begin to express your embarrassment. Tech didn't seem to notice, he just walked in and set his bags down before exploring the rest of the cabin.

He turned back to you, "I really do not mind, it is likely a busy time for them. You don't have to apologize."

He offered you a small smile before walking back toward you.

You returned the smile, but you began to feel crushed that your plans had already begun to fall apart.

Tech had never been great at recognizing your emotions, or his own for that matter, but this once he could see that you were genuinely upset. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to his chest.

“It is okay, Mesh’la, I promise.”

You sighed against his chest and returned the hug, feeling as though your worries were melting away from you, when you suddenly remembered that you had bought a present for him.

He looked down at you when he heard you gasp, and you grinned and ran to your bag to pull out a box wrapped to near perfection in bright paper.

“What is this?” He asked when you held the box out to him.

“Your present!”

His smile faded, “Present? But I... I did not get anything for you in return.”

“That’s not important, you’re here, and that’s all I wanted. Now open it!” Your last statement, as demanding as it sounded, pulled his smile back as he meticulously fiddled with the paper, trying not to tear it.

You watched on in amusement, incredibly aware that this was likely the first Life Day present he’d ever received, just by the way he was pulling at the paper. When he finally freed the box from its wrapping, he opened it and peered inside briefly before pulling the datapad out.

“Well...?” You asked. “Is it okay?”

He examined the datapad closely, his expression unreadable. You could feel your anxiety slowly starting to return when he finally spoke.

“It will need to be re-programmed to be compatible with my equipment and the Marauder, however, this is a wonderful present. Re-programming it will be no trouble at all.”

You breathed out a sigh, “I’m glad. You’re remarkably difficult to shop for, I hope you know that.”

He smiled slightly, “You did not need to get me anything at all, just to spend this time with you is satisfactory. May I ask what else you have planned?”

“Well, one thing that I always liked to do with my family was to go out and look at the decorations, so maybe while the weather is still nice, we could--” You cut yourself off as you turned toward the window. You could hardly see to the end of the lane through all the snow, whatever it was like when you arrived only a short time ago had done a complete 180. The winds had nearly blown over the trees outside, and the sky seemed to have turned completely white with snow.

“I suppose this means we will stay indoors.” Tech suggested.

The disappointment you had felt when you arrived crept back into your chest. Nearly everything you had planned fell apart. Hunter had warned you that a storm was coming, but you tried not to believe him. You felt Tech’s arm drape around your shoulders, and you leaned into him.

“I’m sorry...” You mumbled, still looking out the window.

“You needn’t apologize, nothing that has happened has been your fault.”

You didn’t say anything back, instead you began to walk away, not wanting to look at the blizzard outside, and not wanting to wait around to see if Tech was disappointed. Before you could leave the room, you felt him grab your hand.

“Wait, please don’t go.”

“I just... I wanted this to be perfect, and now almost everything I planned has fallen through.” You looked down, disappointed. “I’ll just comm Hunter and ask him to pick us up.”

Tech pulled you toward him once more with your back against his chest, resting his head atop yours. “We do not need to leave yet. I am not the best person to speak on this matter, but not every single one of our plans needs to be perfect. You put the effort into making this a good experience, and I for one am just happy to be spending the time with you.” When you didn’t answer him, he turned you to face him, and he gently kissed your forehead. “I assure you; I am perfectly content to just be here right now.”

“Thank you, Tech...” You finally replied. “I’m sorry for getting upset.”

“You have nothing to apologize for” He reminded you once more. “Now, seeing as how we are snowed into this cabin, perhaps we can find a holofilm to watch and we can just relax for now.”

You nodded and nestled into his chest. “That sounds wonderful.”

Tech picked up the datapad he had just received and began finding something to watch as you made yourself comfortable on the bed, still making sure that there would be plenty of room between you. When he finally joined you, he looked at you expectantly, then lifted his arm as an invitation for you to come closer to him.

“Are you sure?” You asked, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

“Just come here.” He answered with a smile.

You scooted over to him and leaned into his chest, feeling his arm drape over your shoulders again. His warmth and the steadiness of his breath instantly comforted you. The film played, projected at the end of the bed, and before you knew it, you felt yourself drifting off to sleep.

The next morning, you opened your eyes, not even aware you had fallen asleep.

“Happy Life Day.” You heard from beside you. Tech’s goggles were off, and his tone sounded as though he had just woken up as well. His arms were still around you and he kissed you on the forehead again. When you tried to get up, his arms tightened around you.

“Let’s just lie in for a little longer. Perhaps it’s strange, but I am quite comfortable.”

While your trip had started out a little rockier than you anticipated, it had ended perfectly. Without asking, Tech had become almost a beacon of comfort to you, and all you could think about was how much you were looking forward to spending future holidays with him – only this time ensuring you had back-up plans.

#the bad batch #the clone wars #star wars #tbb tech #tech bad batch #tech x reader #tech bad batch x reader #tbb fanfiction #star wars clone wars #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #tbb fanfic #tbb tech fluff #tech fluff #fic exchange #the bad batch fanfic #the bad batch fanfiction #clone fic gift exchange

[arctrooper69]

Born for This

This is my gift for @starborncyare-deactivated202303 as a part of the @cloneficgiftexchange (which you should go and check out bc there are a TON of amazing fic authors).

Prompt: "Cyar'ika no." // "But it followed me back to camp!"

P.S. Sorry for posting so late tonight. I meant to post it earlier but life got in the way. Hope you like it though!

Holy crap I tagged the wrong person 😱😱😱 I'm so sorry!

Warnings: None?

--------------------------------------------------

"Where in the kriffing galaxy have you be -" Kix stuttered, cutting himself off as you walked through the door holding what looked like a large bundle of towels. Whatever you were carrying barely fit in your arms. "Uh...what is that?"

Before you could respond, the bundle began to wiggle and two long angular ears popped out of the top.

Kix's look of concern flipped to one of disbelief in a matter of nanoseconds.

Oh Force, not again.

Jesse and Hardcase had brought him an injured tooka the week before and it had wrecked havoc in his med bay when it got loose. Kix desperately hoped this wouldn't be a repeat of that disaster.

Though, despite his initial worries, he had to smile. You did look awfully cute sporting that wide grin of yours. He loved how the tip of your nose crinkled when you were truly happy.

Kix took a step forward, curiously peering at the creature cocooned in your arms.

Oh. Kriff.

He almost wished it was a feral tooka.

He slid his hand down his face and took a deep breath as he stepped back. "Cyar'ika," he said evenly, keeping his voice as calm as he could muster. "Please tell me that isn't what I think it is."

You looked down as the creature in question poked his head out from beneath the towel, large yellow eyes curiously gazing around the room.

"This little guy?" You cooed at the large cub. He barely fit in your arms.

"Little!?" Kix almost yelled, shooting you an incredulous look. "That thing is a gundark and could very easily tear you apart!"

As if on cue, the cub let out a purring growl before yawning, displaying rows of razor sharp teeth.

You frowned. "His name is Tiny and I don't think he likes what you just said about him."

Kix pinched the bridge of his nose, not quite believing the scene before him.

"You named it!?"

You nodded enthusiastically.

"And....what made you decide to bring it here?"

The gundark whined, knocking his head against your shoulder, blinking up at you.

"He was wandering around just outside the base. I think there's something wrong with his paw. He was limping and I thought you could help him!"

"It is a gundark, cyar'ika. Please get it out of my med bay before it eats someone."

Your expression fell. "But he's hurt! He doesn't have a mom anymore! We have to keep him!"

"No. Absolutely not. Go outside. Put it down immediately and go wash your hands."

"But he followed me back to camp! I think he thinks I'm his mom now. Please at least just help me patch him up!"

Kix sighed. Part of him wanted to yell at you, tell you that the cub was dangerous, that it could seriously hurt you. Kix had seen brothers be torn to pieces by these creatures. He could still hear their screams as they were eaten alive. He wanted that danger as far away from you as possible.

On the other hand, the amount of compassion you displayed towards this injured animal was the same kindness he'd seen you show daily as you helped nurse his wounded brothers back to health. You were born for this - he saw it everyday. Watching you be so gentle towards such a bloodthirsty creature stirred something inside of him. You were strong, he knew that, and as much as he tried to keep you out of trouble, danger just followed along behind, but you faced it head on with such a genuine, loving thoughtfulness. It was part of who you were.

Maybe it was time to act on those feelings that had been growing stronger day by day.

Kix chuckled softly as his hand grazed your shoulder. He smiled warmly, latching onto that growing sparkle of dedicated excitement in your eyes.

"Alright, cyar'ika. Let's see what we're working with."

--------------------------------------------------

@zoeykallus @ttzamara @nahoney22 @merkitty49 @viva-la-whump @agenteliix @dumpsters-little-matchbook @nekotaetae @ladykatakuri @loverofclones @heyitsaloy @padawancat97 @jambolska-grozdova @flyingkangaroo @melymigo @rain-on-kamino @jiabeewrites @my-own-oracle @dragonrider9905 @queenofspades6 @ordinarylokix @jupitersaturnapollo @queencousland101 @vampirerouge @southernbaguette @staycalmandhugaclone @dalu-grantkylo @dangraccoon @aconstructofamind @blueink-bluesoul @sol-oya-6116

If you want to be on my taglist, feel free to send me a message! Also, asks are open! Reblogging is very much encouraged and it makes me do a happy dance every time any of my writing gets reblogged 😂❤️

#clone fic gift exchange #cloneficgiftexchange #star wars #star wars the clone wars #swtcw #clone wars #clone medic kix #clone medic kix x you #clone medic kix x reader #clone wars kix #clone wars kix x you #clone wars kix x reader #tcw kix #tcw kix x reader #tcw kix x you #arc trooper jesse #clone trooper hardcase #the bad batch #sw tcw #sw tbb #tbb crosshair #tbb hunter #tbb echo #tbb wrecker #tbb tech #tbb omega #captain rex #Kix #kix x you #kix x reader

[skellymom]

"Ballroom Blitz"

The Bad Batch Clone Fic Gift Exchange

*FINISHED FULL STORY*

(Pinterest pic credit: Not Labeled)

 @hexerein SURPRISE! Here is your gift for the @cloneficgiftexchange ENJOY!

Used BOTH of your prompts:

"This is not a clone clubhouse." Appears in this introduction.

"I don't believe that is the proper use of delicate equipment."

Characters: Hunter, Tech, Wrecker and 3 female OC's to pair with them. Stayed away from the tropes mentioned that you didn't want used. Had these OC's dancing around in my mind for several months...and YOU gave me the inspiration to use them! Thank you!!!

Story is written in third person as I LOVE supporting characters and being omniscient about the surrounding environment, building it up like YOU are watching a movie.

Summary: Clone Force 99 visits a dumpy nightclub for "science". These guys can't stay out of trouble. Tech finds friendship, Hunter figures out a secret, and Wrecker falls in love for the first time.

Word Count: 3.2K

Warnings: Swearing, fighting (no blood), explosion, fire, clone angst, sexual suggestion only.

Dancers waited behind the stage for their cue scanning the club’s dance floor. 

A Chiss named Saxe remarked with a disgusted look as she spied numerous shiny's among the crowd, "This is not a clone clubhouse."  

Rueby rolled her eyes at Saxe and sassed, “Honey, I thought this was a clone WHOREHOUSE!” 

The other dancers laughed at the clap back. Most of them KNEW the clones enjoyed the woman, men, and the genderfluid staff genuinely, happy to lap up the attention, tipped handsomely, and brought their favorites gifts as often as they had GAR leave to visit. Plus, they were handsome, non-threatening...most of the time. Usually only did the occasional stupid thing, which the Republic covered for monetarily. 

However, there was the rare dancer that didn’t appreciate these men. Usually, the uppity, better-than-you types. Rueby shot a disdainful glance at Saxe who backed off. Saxe then exited the stage to relieve one of several cage dancers. 

Rueby took a deep breath and did her most inspiring power pose, psyching herself up for the next number.  

She made her entrance oozing sass and sex appeal.  Cat walking, swinging her hips and ass.  Kill you/fuck me eyes trained on the audience.  All 6 and 1/2 ft of strongly muscled dancer's frame with ONE mission in mind: TO SLAY! 

MUSIC FOR THIS FIC!

The seedy club flooded with patrons.  Officially over capacity for fire code and safety.  But the deadbeat owner of the Flushed Orchid considered this a suggestion and not a rule.  He paid off the authorities to stay open.  They looked the other way on fire codes, treatment of his dancers, dealing of spice/death sticks/sketchy backdoor tub liquor, along with other unsavory activities. 

Rueby gyrated and flipped her hair around to the eardrum splitting music.  Multicolored lights trained on her through the dark while she danced her heart out on the elevated stage. She LIVED to dance. The harder, louder, and dirtier the music, the better. A collective whoop went up from the crowd as she backflipped and ended up in the splits on the floor. 

Hunter, Wrecker, and Tech wandered into the club taking in the chaos.  

“Eh...if you guys want to leave; I have no problem...” Hunter wasn't really a fan of the lights, noise, crush of people pressing by, or the prospect of getting a beer spilled on him. 

“The Coruscant Guard HIGHLY recommended this establishment.”  Tech practically yelled over the din.  “I’m here to conduct RESEARCH.” 

Hunter wrinkled his nose. “Tech, this place is a DUMP!” 

“True, it’s not 79’s. My data gathering there is complete.  I required another study environment.” 

“WHAT WERE YOU STUDYING?”  Wrecker’s regular voice could be heard perfectly within the loud environment. 

“The pre-mating rituals of the general populace of Coruscant.”  Tech answered.  “Specifically, their affinity for meeting at extremely loud and crowded places that handicap their ability to communicate effectively.  In addition, to observe how the consumption of alcohol changes the degree of their deeply held inhibitions.” 

Hunter shook his head.  “Go head, gather ‘data’.  I’m going to the bar to inhibit my senses.” 

Tech made a beeline for the stage.   

Wrecker followed...then he spotted Rueby! 

A beautiful, strapping Zeltron woman, with ample hips, and a Calypgian behind.  Her smooth skin was a beautiful shade of passionate red. Wrecker heard of legends regarding woman warrior giantesses.  Women almost as large as himself.  Probably even strong enough to sweep him off his feet.   

And she was hanging upside down off a metal pole, sensually caressing her deep indigo hair. 

Wrecker followed Tech through the crush of gyrating bodies on the dance floor.  They could only get 20 feet from the stage. 

Tech was too busy being IN the crowd, watching the “pre-mating ritual” of the people around them. 

Wrecker was entranced.  Rueby was now SPINNING ON THE POLE and holding herself horizontally off it with minimal effort!  While wearing stiletto boots.  

Rueby DEFINITELY noticed Wrecker.  She smiled right at him and released pheromones in her excitement. 

Honestly...this was a FIRST for Wrecker.  He usually noticed food, bombs, and the infatuations of his brothers.  For himself...it just never seemed to be the same. 

Until tonight.  Wrecker was experiencing an AWAKENING. 

Meanwhile, at the bar, Hunter flagged down Tipsy, the Twi ’lek barkeep.   

“What’ll it be Handsome?” She usually flirted playfully with the patrons.  And her tips reflected the extra attention they appreciated. 

“Take some Spotchka.” Hunter smiled. 

Tipsy filled the glass, sliding it across to Hunter.  “YOU boys don’t strike me as the usual clones who hang out here.  What’s your story?  IF you care to tell...” 

Hunter sipped his drink.  The lavender hued lady taking an interest had him rethink hurrying Tech and Wrecker out of the bar early. 

“We’re defective.  Belong to Clone Force 99.” 

“Oh!  Heard about you guys!!!”  Tipsy leaned forward on the bar taking extreme interest.  “Crazy stories.  You guys are OFF THE CHAIN!” 

Hunter grinned.  “Hm...we get the job done.” 

“Good looking AND capable.” she winked. 

Hunter blushed and took another sip. 

Several Reg clones and a Gotal summoned for service at the other end of the bar. 

“Be back later.  Gotta serve the patrons.” 

Hunter watched her go, grinning into his glass. 

Vix loaded up her tray and waded out into the tight crowd.  She HATED nights like this.  Being short and petite felt stifling in the crush of bodies.  On top of that, carrying a tray full of drinks and hoping not to spill anything was nerve wracking. 

She was SO CLOSE to earning enough money to quit this dump and start school.  Her plans were to study Botany off-world.  The thought of sitting in a quiet hololibrary and studying up on plant life relieved a bit of stress until... 

...someone YANKED on her tail!  Vix yelped angrily, baring her teeth. 

SHE WAS SO SICK OF THIS SHIT!!! 

Tech heard Vixs’ protest and looked up from his holopad. 

He noticed she was a small Amaran female who seemed to be in pain.  Their eyes met briefly.  His in query to her predicament, her’s in frustration. 

Vix flattened her ears and turned away from Tech to the large Houk holding her tail in his grasp. 

“Hello foxy lady.”  He leered. 

“Sir, the view is the ONLY thing I’m obliged to give you.  Let go of my tail!”  Her anger rising. 

“Aww...such a cute little angry redhead...” 

“I do believe the lady politely requested that you release her coccygeal vertebrae.”  Tech was now standing next to Vix. 

“Wut?” The Houk was dumbfounded. 

“HE SAID LET GO OF MY TAIL, YOU ASSHAT!” Vix screamed above the din of the nightclub.  Some of the patrons stopped dancing, turning to watch the fracas. 

The Houk’s attitude went from stupid to vitriol.  “BITCH!” 

Vix had enough.  She threw the tray of drinks at him. 

He finally let go of her tail.  But he went for the throat with his big hammy hands. 

Tech pulled her out of the way, the Houk stumbled past knocking over patrons.  Many of the dancers stopped and stared at the altercation. Some of the clones stepped up to assist but fell back seeing it was only the Defective Clones who were in a bind. 

The Houk got up and ran for them again.  Vix yanked the holopad from Tech’s hands and threw it with all she had, hitting the Houk right between the eyes.  It stopped him only minimally, as he bellowed in anger. 

"I don't believe that is the proper use of delicate equipment" Tech quipped as the Houk picked him up off the ground and was lifted above its head. 

“Oh...NO... I’M SO SORRY!!!” Vix was terrified Tech would meet his end trying to help her. 

Tipsy and Hunter were really hitting it off, until... 

Her eyes went wide in horror, pointing over Hunter’s shoulder “Is THAT one of your guys over there???” 

Hunter spun around to see Tech being held aloft horizontally above the crowd by an angry Houk.  To his credit, Tech looked extremely calm.  But the Houk looked as though he was going to throw Tech across the room. 

“WHAT THE KRIFF DID HE DO???”  Hunter just wanted a drink or two, then leave to go to bed.  

There was NO way Hunter was going to get across the bar to save Tech’s ass in time.  Too many bodies in the way...but he tried to wade through... 

Until Wrecker’s fist connected with the Houk’s face.  He went down like a sack of bricks.  Wrecker caught Tech from falling into the crowd. 

That move caused TOTAL MAYHEM!  Drunken patrons with pent up emotions took this as a sign to commence in a BAR FIGHT!!! 

People started screaming, fighting, breaking things. Mob mentality took over, infecting the whole establishment. 

Wrecker stood above the fray with his tall frame.  Still holding Tech to keep him from being dragged under in the craziness.  Vix wasn’t as lucky. 

“Vix!”  Rueby yelled from the stage.  Wrecker turned to see his Zeltron crush dive off the stage into the crowd like it was a river.  She came up pushing bodies furiously away from her path.  One patron decided he wanted to throw a punch her way.  She picked his ass up and threw him across the room. 

“Rueby!  HELP!!!”  Rueby pushed and struggled her way through the crowd towards the small panicked voice.  Then dipped down below the frenzied sea of bodies.  A minute later, Rueby emerged pushing bodies out of the way while holding Vix. 

Someone’s death sticks ignited something flammable in the room, and huge flames erupted.  The patrons who weren’t fighting were pushing and trampling each other to escape the burning building. 

“WRECKER!  TECH!!!”  Hunter was now caught in the fray and being pulled away from his brothers. 

“RUEBY!”  Tipsy could see Hunter was too far out in the crowd to bring him back to the bar.  “Help him!  WE ALL HAVE TO GET THE KRIFF OUT OF HERE!!!”  Tipsy pointed to Hunter.  Then she grabbed a chair, busted out the window, and jumped through it. 

Rueby recognized the boys by their matching armor, knowing they belonged together. 

“HEY BEEFCAKE!”  She yelled to Wrecker.  “GO OUT THROUGH THE BACK STAGE!  I’LL GET YOUR SERGEANT.” 

Wrecker nodded. 

“WAIT!”  Rueby yelled.  “CATCH!!!” 

She tossed Vix over the heads of the crowd to Wrecker.  He shifted Tech to his right arm and caught Vix with his left.  She yelped in terror.   

“Hold on!”  Tech grabbed onto Vix “This is going to be a VERY bumpy ride!!! 

Wrecker mowed through the crowd, hip checking people out of the way and hopped up on the stage. 

Rueby pushed and body slammed people out of the way best she could in the chaos.  Reaching out to Hunter as he extended his hand to her.  She grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him up and out of the crowd.  As her other hand could reach, she grasped the front of his armor and yanked him up over her shoulder...like he was a tiny child. 

Hunter was used to Wrecker doing this, but not a beautiful strapping woman wearing next to nothing.  She was holding his leg with one hand and gripping his buxom bottom with the other.  He could feel the fire, smell everything burning, the screams of fear were too much for his ears...it ALL was too much for him right about now. 

He just wanted a drink.  How did everything go SO WRONG??? 

Rueby managed to make it to the stage.  Wrecker set down Tech and Vix.  Then pulled Rueby up.  She set Hunter down. 

“We gotta bolt!  When the bar catches fire, WE’RE BANTHA BARBECUE!!!” 

Everyone ran like hell to the backstage exit. 

Hunter, Vix, and Tech made it out first.  They ran behind the trash dumpster for safety. 

Rueby and Wrecker barely made it out when all the alcohol in the bar ignited. 

The back door blew off its hinges, slammed into Wrecker, who slammed into Rueby.   

Hunter, Vix, and Tech watched their friends literally ride the heavy metal door across the back courtyard, over the tower railing...screaming bloody murder all the way. 

They disappeared out of view... 

...as their screams carried off into the distance...and down. 

“HOLY SHIT!” Hunter was mortified. 

“They...are they...” Vix couldn't even finish. 

“Sounds as though they are in freefall.” Tech’s head was cocked, listening.  “It’s an awfully long fall down to The Bottoms of Coruscant.” 

They ran past the courtyard, up to the railing, and leaned over... 

...to see Rueby and Wrecker hugging each other tightly, sitting on the steel door like a magic carpet as it gracefully glided up towards them. 

“How the HELL???”  Hunter was STILL mortified. 

Tech was glad he recorded the whole ordeal.  What an amazing visual. 

The door glided up over their heads coming down to rest on the balcony.  Both Wrecker and Rueby were safely out of harm's way.  But they wouldn’t let go of each other for quite some time. 

They all stared at each other for a minute speechless. 

“You’re welcome!”  Came a voice behind them. 

They all spun around to see Anakin Skywalker standing up in his hover craft hands raised.   

Obi Wan Kenobi was in the driver’s seat.  “Detonation Surfing seems to be a rather dangerous sport to take up, wouldn’t you say?”  His eyes twinkled. 

“You’re pretty lucky we drove by when we did.”  Anakin smirked.  “That first date would have been your last.”  

Wrecker sheepishly glanced at Rueby, who hugged Wrecker tighter. Her Zeltron pheromones had him in a state of horny bliss. The danger aspect of what just happened had her shivering against him...in an excited manner. 

“Anakin and Obi Wan thank you for assisting Wrecker and...” Hunter deferred to... 

“Rueby!” Tipsy appeared, running up and embracing her and Wrecker. Then she ran to Vix and Tech hugging them both. “I’m SO GLAD everyone is safe!”  

Tech was surprised by the physical contact. But not put off about it either. 

Tipsy then embraced Hunter and planted a HUGE kiss on his lips. He leaned in, embracing the Twilek, kissing her deeply, then pulled away, face bright red. He turned to see everyone staring at him... 

...Anakin Skywalker gave Hunter a conspiratorial look and smiled...something passed between them both in an instant... 

...and it occurred to him suddenly WHY Anakin was so odd with Rex the other day on the landing pad, why he seemed to spend SO MUCH time with Senator Amidala. 

That DOG! His secret was safe with Hunter.  

“General Skywalker, General Kenobi.” Hunter cleared his throat and nodded to them both. 

Kenobi spied the nightclub on fire behind him then addressed Anakin. “Seems there may be more souls in need of our assistance.” 

Before Kenobi could brief his padawan, Anakin Force jumped from the craft...over the guardrail and the group, then ran TOWARDS the fire disappearing from view. 

Kenobi shook his head and sighed “A Jedi’s work is NEVER done. Stay safe, everyone!” He swung the craft around and headed towards the burning building. 

The group waved as he sped away, stunned by their Jedi antics. 

The night wasn’t a total loss.  

Our merry group convened at the local Waffle Hovel. It was Wrecker’s idea. 

The men pushed together several of the small tables to fit everyone in their party. Besides, Baash the “Awful Waffle’s” owner, was used to seeing people in all sorts of conditions after partying all night on Coruscant. He didn’t care, long as they paid the bill. 

Rueby, Tipsy, and Vix lamented that their wallet’s burned in the fire...as they certainly didn’t have pockets in their skimpy attire to carry on their person.  

“No worries, ladies. We’ve got you covered.” Hunter’s headache left him as soon as they stepped into the quiet establishment, smelling the wonderful aroma of Baash’s Space Flapjacks.  

His attention was also taken up by Tipsy, who sat across from him. They made silent goo-goo eyes at one another. 

Same for Wrecker. He and Rueby eyed each other over their menus, making funny puns about the food. 

Sitting across from one another and between the two smitten duos were Tech and Vix. They babbled and info dumped excitedly realizing they both shared a passion: Botany. 

“...we were lucky to have survived the carnivorous Meat Flower of Dagoba, and I must say...” Tech trailed off. “Whatever is the matter?” 

Vix had suddenly gone silent and sad. “I was SO CLOSE to being able to quit the Flushed Orchid...and start my studies. Have to find another job that will hire an Amaran...don’t know if we are going to see our last credits from this one.” 

Tipsy added “Bet that slummy boss of ours will take all the insurance payout credits and run off.” 

“He was probably betting on it being the Fried Orchid at some point. That man let the place go SO badly. And he’s got friends that will ignore the way he kept it to get those credits.” Rueby was angry. 

“We know people at 79’s who will happily hire you. That is if you want to continue bar work and dancing?” Hunter offered. 

“Yes! It was much harder to get hired in due to it being more upscale. I’ll take it!!! Tipsy perked up. “The pay is SO much better too.” 

Rueby smiled. “Whooo! I’ll get to dance at the REAL CLONE CLUBHOUSE!!!” 

“OOH, and I can visit ya at work in-between missions!” Wrecker was excited at the prospect. 

“Oh honey...YOU can visit me ANYTIME.” She released more pheromones. Wrecker almost floated away with pure bliss. 

Vix exhaled and exhaustedly hung her head. “I can’t do it. Tried so hard...but, the bar scene just isn’t for me.” 

Tech politely intervened. “I am quite certain you will qualify for some financial assistance, including dorm rooming as well...If you choose.  In addition, I shall speak to Coruscant University’s head administrator. They have some...’ wiggle room’ filling seats at their lectures.” 

Vix was speechless.  “Wait...what’s the catch?” She warily inquired. 

Tech and Hunter were taken aback by the query. 

Rueby and Wrecker ignored the conversation and kept flirting. The rest of the people at the table no longer took precedence. They were in their own little world. 

Tech added curtly “Vix, remember the clones who witnessed how you and I were treated tonight? And their refusal to step in to help a stranger in need...and a fellow brother.” The memory struck a chord with the otherwise emotionally removed clone. 

“Oh... Yes.” Vix’s face clouded with disappointment. 

“We are NOT like THEM.” Tech glibly answered.  

Hunter softened and fixed Tipsy and Vix with puppy dog eyes “Just want to help. We know what it’s like to struggle. There are no strings attached. WE PROMISE.” 

“Ehhhh, MY FAVORITE CLONES! And they got some company here. HELLO LADIES! What are we orderin’ tonight eh?” Baash swooped in. “Tonight's special is Baash’s Hash! Best spicy potatoes this side of Coruscant. Ha-HAAA!!!” 

Tech and Vix debated the various choices on the menu while Baash patiently assisted. 

“Mmmm...I LIKE spice...” Rueby eyed Wrecker. 

He giggled like a maniac. 

“Get a room you two.” Hunter sassed. 

He was then hit in the face with a wadded-up napkin from across the table. 

Tipsy’s lekku went from a light lavendar to a blushed grape color. He noticed her sly smile. Then he detected a heady scent just under the aroma of cooked food. 

She leaned forward and whispered, “Let’s get one of our own.” 

(Credit: Cool moving star dividers by @4ngelic-wh1spers )

PLEASE like, comment, and REBLOG!

#the bad batch #star wars #tbb #bad batch #tbb hunter #clone force 99 #tbb tech #tbb wrecker #the bad batch fan fic #the bad batch fan fiction #clone force 99 fan fic #clone force 99 fan fiction #tbb hunter x reader #tbb tech x reader #tbb wrecker x reader #shellymom #clone fic gift exchange #cloneficgiftexchange #tbb clone fic #tbb cloneficgift exchange #hexerein #tbb ballroom blitz #the bad batch ballroom blitz #Youtube

[photogirl894]

I am one of the authors participating in the @cloneficgiftexchange and the person I had the wonderful pleasure of writing for is @embeanwrites 💜💜 Her Clone of choice was Tech...which admittedly, was hard to write for after the recent finale, but I got through it and hopefully, this will be heartwarming enough for Em as well as all of you to make you forget about all that at least for a little bit 😊

Hope you like it, my dear!! 💜

"Logical"

Prompt: "You could've died! Did you even think about what that'd do to me?"

Pairing: Tech x gen neutral reader

“Tech! We’re pinned down! We need air support!” you heard Hunter cry out on comms as he and you ducked behind cover to avoid getting shot. 

You and Clone Force 99 were trapped due to an influx of Imperial fighters flying around and trying to shoot at all of you from above. You all sought cover behind some pillars of the base you had infiltrated, hoping to wait out the attacks, but the fighters kept coming and were not letting up. Tech was still back at the Marauder on standby as backup while you were waiting for Captain Rex for a pickup. 

“Hang on, I’ll draw their fire away from the base,” you heard Tech respond in your helmet comm. 

You activated your comm and replied, “No, Tech, don’t! There’s too many of them! They’re going to overpower you!”

“There’s no time. It’s the only logical solution,” he said back. “Captain Rex is on approach. Be ready for extraction.”

“Tech!” you cried into the comm with worry. 

Though just then, the Marauder came zooming overhead, flying in front of the Imperial ships and nearly clipping the wings of one of them. As it soared away in the opposite direction, you saw a lot of the other ships starting to change course and turn the other way to follow after Tech, shooting at the ship. Your heart was pounding in your chest, fearing for Tech’s life. You didn’t doubt that he was a skilled pilot, but there were a lot of Imperial ships on his tail and even he had his limits. 

Activating your comm again, you pleaded into it, “Tech, please, don’t do this! You can’t outrun them! Just get out of here!”

His voice came back through, “Negative. If their attention is not diverted, they will compromise the success of our mission. I will hold them off as long as I can. Don’t worry about me.”

Just as he said that, a shot from one of the ships made a direct hit on the Marauder and its flight pattern faltered slightly, causing your heart to jump up into your throat.

You were in love with Tech. You had been for some time, but could never find the courage to admit your feelings. The two of you had a close bond, at least, and he knew you cared about him, but he just didn’t know the full extent of them, as far as you knew. He was extremely intelligent, maybe he already knew. Though, he also processed thoughts and feelings differently than most people, so there was also the possibility that he maybe had no idea at all. However, if he were to get shot down now, he would never know the truth.

“Tech!” you screamed just as you felt someone take you by the arm.

“Rex is here! Come on!” Echo cried out, tugging you back with him. 

“There’s nothing we can do for Tech, (Y/N). We need to go,” you heard Hunter say to you on your other side. “He knows the rendezvous point. He’ll meet us there.”

When you turned around, you saw that Rex’s ship had indeed arrived, but you had been so fraught and consumed with terror over losing Tech that you hadn’t even noticed it was hovering above you and there was a line hanging out of the entryway where Rex was looking down on all of you, motioning for you to climb. Wrecker gave you a boost up to the wire and you along with the rest of the Batch climbed to safety.

You could only hope that Tech was safe, too, wherever he had flown off to.

Quickly, you all retreated to your rendezvous point on the other side of the planet, waiting for Tech to arrive. Minutes passed by and with every second, your anxiety began to spike more and more. Where was he? Why was he not back yet?

“Why hasn’t he come back?” you asked aloud nervously as you paced the platform.

“He’ll be here. Don’t worry,” Hunter reassured you.

“But I am worried, Hunter!” you blurted out. “I…can’t lose him.”

He came up to you and laid his hands on your shoulders. “I know,” he simply said. 

When you looked up at him, there was an expression of understanding in his face. Did he know how you felt about Tech? If anyone from among the squad were to figure it out apart from possibly Tech himself, it would’ve been Hunter. You weren’t sure of how to respond to him, so you just turned away and resumed pacing back and forth, hugging your arms tightly.

Time continued to pass; time that made you feel as though your insides were twisting and eating themselves out of worry. The sun was setting as evening was approaching. What had happened to Tech? It had been too long.

“He should’ve come back by now,” you commented, your voice choking.

Finally, Hunter took out his comm and spoke into it, “Tech, come in. Where are you? Tech, do you copy?” 

There was silence.

“Do not fret, Hunter. I am approaching the platform.”

The sound of his voice almost made you fall to your knees with relief. Just after that, you heard distant engines and then the shape of the Marauder came into view on the horizon. Tech was okay!

Within a minute, the ship landed and you could tell it had definitely taken a few hits to the exterior hull and possibly one of the thrusters was damaged. Though, as soon as the ramp lowered and you saw your beloved goggled Clone exiting the ship, all your worries about the ship disappeared immediately.

“You made it,” Wrecker observed as Tech made his way over to all of you.

“Of course, I did,” Tech replied, adjusting his goggles. “The ship took substantial damage, but not enough to impede my piloting. I managed to shake them in a highly mountainous area close to the base and I escaped.”

“Nice work,” said Hunter. “The ship’s going to need repairs before we head out, but we’ll deal with that tomorrow. For now, let’s all get some rest.” 

He turned back to Rex and thanked him for his help. Rex saluted them gladly and before long, he departed their company. After that, the rest of the squad got back onto the Marauder with Echo electing to keep the first watch. Once all the boys were in their bunks, you stormed into Tech’s bunk. Now that you knew he was okay, you needed to have a word with him…or several words.

He looked up at you, having stripped down to just his blacks, a bit startled as you walked into his room and the door closed behind you. “I do believe you have wandered into my bunk by mistake, (Y/N),” he stated.

“Oh no, this was no mistake, Tech,” you said back. “What were you thinking back at the base?”

“I was utilizing the best solution for completing the mission,” he answered.

“Putting your life at risk? There were a lot of Imperial fighters back there!” you cried out. 

“I was not concerned about that. I managed to do exactly as I said and drew them away,” he simply said back.

Your teeth clenched and your hands curled up into fists of frustration. “For someone so smart, you’re still not getting it!” you exclaimed. You strode up to him until you were directly in front of him. “You could’ve died! Did you even think about what that’d do to me?”

For once, Tech was rendered speechless.

Then you blurted out, “I’m in love with you, you idiot, and I thought I was going to lose you today! I can’t go through that again!” After that, unable to stop yourself, you grasped the front of his blacks, pulled him forward and crashed your mouth into his with desperation and need. You kept your kiss brief so as to not startle Tech too much; or at least, more than you probably already had. When you pulled back, his eyes were wide with surprise.

He cleared his throat and adjusted his goggles. “I see,” he replied after a moment. You were about to yell at him for such a casual response to your confession and your kiss, but then he spoke up again, “I will admit: I had not taken your feelings into consideration earlier. I was focused on the mission to consider much else. However…I was also unaware of how you truly viewed me. You had not said anything on the subject before so I was under the impression that we…were only friends and there was no other underlying factor behind your fear on my behalf.”

That, you knew was on you because he was right: you hadn’t confessed your feelings and so he couldn’t have known how his decision would affect you. “Well…I’m saying something now,” you said back to him with a sigh, hoping he would catch on and give you some sort of answer in return. 

He looked down at you and, with a slight newfound confidence, he stated, “Then the only logical reply on my part is this: I must now declare that your affections are requited for I too have strong feelings for you...feelings I had struggled for some time to understand until this very moment.” He reached up and ever so slightly traced your cheek. “What I feel for you is indeed love. I cherish every glance I receive from you, every word you speak to me, every moment you laugh and every second you smile. You have a genuine heart that is kind and generous. What I believed was simple fondness and adoration, I now realize was something more all along. I just needed you to open my eyes.”

Nothing in the world felt as wonderful to you than that very moment, hearing such heartfelt words of love from Tech, which was something you never expected. He was not always a man of such flowery language, but it appeared he could still surprise you.

His hand came to rest on your cheek as he then asked you, “My darling…may I return the gesture and bestow a kiss on you?”

With a huge smile forming on your lips, you answered him, “Tech, you never need to ask me that.”

That being said, he leaned down and brought his lips to yours, gentler than you had done previously. With how lovingly he kissed you, you felt as though you could sprout wings and fly as high as the Marauder that he was so good at piloting. It was far better than you could’ve ever dreamed of.

When the two of you came apart, you said to him, your lips just hovering above his, “If you scare me like that again…it’s not the Empire you’re going to have to worry about coming after you.”

He responded, “That notion does indeed strike fear into my being.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his reply…a lovely sound that brought an endearing smile to Tech’s face.

#CFGE23 #clone fic gift exchange #star wars the bad batch #the bad batch #bad batch tech #bad batch fic #tech x reader

[gun-roswell]

Chapters: 3/3 Fandom: Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon), Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody/Hunter (Star Wars: The Bad Batch) Characters: CC-2224 | Cody, Clone Trooper Hunter (Star Wars), CT-9904 | Crosshair, CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo, Clone Trooper Tech (Star Wars), Clone Trooper Wrecker (Star Wars), Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), CC-5576-39 | Gregor, CT-7567 | Rex, CC-3636 | Wolffe, Clone Trooper Howzer (Star Wars) Additional Tags: Light Angst, Clone Haven Server Exchange Fan Event, Gifts, Established Relationship, Cody Day Fan Event, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Cloneshipping | Clone Trooper/Clone Trooper Relationships (Star Wars), Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, mission fic (sort of), fluff and love, Cody Day 2/2/24, Coday Series: Part 1 of Cody/Hunter, Part 1 of Clone Haven Server Exchange Fics, Part 1 of Cody (CC-2224) Day / CoDay Summary:

Hunter’s got a boyfriend much to the surprise of the returned sniper, Crosshair. Well, they/we all need someone to love, right?!

A new life, love and family - what could go wrong?

Part of Cody/Hunter series and Clone Haven Server Exchange *Cody Day* fan event For Swiftwater_Prawn


#fanfic #Star Wars #the bad batch #the clone wars #coday #gift exchange #cody hunter #shipping #angst and fluff #cody day 2224

[jedipoodoo]

Live footage of me waiting for all the @cloneficgiftexchange fics to drop on Saturday morning

#I finished my fic last night and it gave me such an adrenaline rush #TBBE24 #the bad batch #gift exchange