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#go walk under a fucking ladder you fucking normie.
hoodie-prince-kid · 1 year
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sure, humiliate me in the one game i'm good at, but do NOT disrespect Mr. Martinet, ESPECIALLY IF YOU'VE MET THE MAN.
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happytroopers · 3 years
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Sick days // Hunter x reader
My google history search after this: what do they call toilets in Star Wars? Star Wars rabies?
Summary: I would do anything for Hunter, even take care of him when he has food poisoning. I saw a sick day prompt list and didn't end up using anything but it inspired this cluster fuck
TW: throwing up, alcohol mention but no use, bad writing I just love him ok
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"Hey, have you seen Hunter? I need him to sign off on some damage reports." You announced as you entered the cockpit of the ship as it barreled through hyperspace, throwing a pointed look at Wrecker who was the main reason for most of aforementioned damage reports.The other members of Clone Force 99 made some sort of acknowledgment of your existence. Wrecker grinned obliviously at you as continued doing bicep curls with a GONK droid while Tech made brief eye contact with you before going back to some sort of machinery he’d dissected. Crosshair was the only one to actually somewhat answer your question, giving you a sassily quirked eyebrow and motioning down with his toothpick. "I’m assuming that super vague motion would mean he’s in the cargo hold?" You pressed but you had already turned around to go find the sergeant. "Should we tell ‘er?" You heard Wrecker ask but when no one answered him, you assumed things would be fine. Besides after almost a year with the Bad Batch, you’d walked in on them in all sorts of compromising moments. Nothing would surprise you anymore.
After popping down the ladder into the cargo bay, you did a cursory sweep. Crosshairs rifle was disassembled on a crate for cleaning, more of Tech’s mechanical experiments in a heap by the bay doors, your own trunk of belonging… but no sign of Hunter. "Hunter? Are you down here?" You poked a little further into the sleeping quarters, like any room that housed four soldiers who didn’t know how to mop, the smell chased you right back out. Shaking your head you thought to yourself, That should be considered a hazard zone. You paused by the fresher to listen for water running but heard nothing, which officially meant Hunter hadn’t been anywhere you checked, Hell, did he jump out of an airlock? Just as you were about to give up, you heard an awful noise come from the fresher. Like a bantha dying in a fire. Did some animal stow away? Absentmindedly you considered getting Wrecker to handle it- the last thing you needed was contracting some planet-specific strain of rabies. But then you considered that in the process, Wrecker would probably destroy the entire bathroom. And then everyone would be without a bathroom for the next two days… and that could get ugly. Then the noise came again, bringing you out of your mental debate. With a heavy sigh, you decided you’d have to check it out yourself. So, after pulling a random tool off your belt, you let the door slide open. To your surprise, Hunter was the first thing you saw, bent at the waist over the vac tube, bracing himself with one shaking arm against the durasteel wall. His helmet was discarded carelessly two feet closer to the entrance, and the enhanced trooper was heaving breaths, looking rather haggard. Almost stupidly the first thing that came out of your mouth was, "Oh my God, did the animal do this to you?" Hunter actually startled, which had never happened before. He was impossible to sneak up on, it was his whole thing. When he did look up at you, he looked confused, among other things. His skin pallor was four shades lighter than it was supposed to be, slightly greenish gray, and dew dropped with sweat. "Animal? What animal?" "The animal that made that-" You cut yourself off suddenly feeling dumb, now lamely dropping your defense tool. Then the disbelief, "Oh my- that noise was you?" He didn’t get the chance to answer again, instead turning his head back towards the vac tube to wretch again. Now with that information, the haggard appearance made more sense. "Hunter… you look like shit." You scolded, hesitantly moving closer, “Like, legitimately corpse like.” The sergeant coughed a bit before throwing you glare, “Thank you, (Y/L/N), that’s very helpful. Did you need something?” Damage reports long forgotten, you ignored the question instead more concerned with the trooper in front of you, “Why the hell are you standing like that? What’s wrong with you? Are you sick?”
Hunter was confused with this sudden line of questioning, turning his head to gag a little bit but this time he kept it under control to answer you, “Clones don’t get sick.”
“So this is normal for you?” You snarked right back, “Here, try kneeling, it won’t take as much of a toll on your body like that.”
At first he didn’t listen to you, just when the ship hit a patch of turbulence it triggered another wave which forced him to a knee. Then it hit you, clones don’t get sick, they’re engineered with near perfect immune systems.
“You’ve never been sick before have you?” You whispered sympathetically, he legitimately didn’t know how to handle being sick. Frowning, worried welled up in your stomach. It was almost painful to watch the man be so sick, after all how many times had he saved you or helped you out of a tight spot, so you looked away until he quieted again. This time he took a minute to catch his breath so you took some liberties.
“First, let’s get your hair off your neck and face. You’ll feel less gross.” You promised, going behind him to gently scrape his long hair into a makeshift bun and tie it off with a spare hair tie.
“What are you doing?”  He croaked, but didn’t pull away from your hands.
“Taking care of you, now shut up and let me.” While your voice was still kind, you were just stern enough not to argue with you, “Now, lean up.”
You didn’t wait for him to follow the orders, instead you started unfastening pieces of armor on his arms before moving on to the chest and torso pieces. Moments later he was able to move a little freer and his armor from the waist up was neatly stacked to you right.
“There, that should help with the overheating.” You announced, not mentioned how he couldn’t bend over properly with a piece of plastoid against his abdomen. You gave him another once over, he was taking deep breaths with his eyes closed, little baby hairs already escaping your rather pitiful man bun situation. You’d never seen him so vulnerable.
“So clones don’t get sick, why are you throwing up like my roommate after her twenty first birthday?” You asked quietly, gently moving the stray bits of his forehead.
“Would you believe that I ate an expired meal ration?” He asked with enough doubt in your voice that you immediately shook your head.
“You’re not that stupid Hunter.”
“I lost a bet with Crosshair and had to eat part of the Yalbec stinger. Tech did say it was a delicacy on some planets.” He sighed, dry heaving again.
“I also remember him saying it was mildly poisonous to humans.” You reminded him, going past him to the shelves that held shower things. Reaching into your own caddy, you produced a rag before wetting it in the sink.
“Yeah, I lost the bet before he enlightened us.” Hunter admitted, visibly relaxing when you put the cold rag on his neck before sliding into a sitting position next to him, “How do you know all this stuff?”
“Well, us normies get sick a lot.” You teased, laughing when you caught the disgusted look on his face, “But, I learned most of this stuff taking care of my hungover friends.”
“Oh, just your friends?” It was Hunter’s turn to sass you, but you just rolled your eyes. The two of you fell into a halfway comfortable silence, so you took your data pad to do a little research on Yalbec poisoning.
“You don’t have to stay for this?” Hunter reminded you, using the back of his hand to wipe sweat off his forehead. When you looked back over to him, he was staring at you. Even when puking, his eyes could stare straight through you. Hurriedly, you dropped your gaze back to your data pad.
“Well, you spend all your time taking care of them,” you motioned up towards the cockpit, “And me. So someone has to look out for you when you need it, you don’t have to suffer alone.”
His eyes softened as he relaxed slightly, you were glad to see his coloring was already getting better. But after a few moments, even the softness of his stare brought a flush to your cheeks so you just cleared your throat, “Well, the good news is that the holonet says someone of your size and weight will be fine. Symptoms should pass within twelve hours at the most, and it’s already been five.”
“Thank you, (Y/N).”
Your head snapped back up, he rarely ever called you by your first name. Somehow it almost felt intimate.
“Of course, Hunter.”
You scooted a little closer so that your knees would touch. Closer than you had ever been to him, but he didn’t scoot away. You smiled at the small contact, shaking your head.
“Can I impart on you a bit of civilian wisdom?” You asked teasingly, not even waiting him to nod. You took the rag off his neck and used it to dab sweat off his forehead, “Don’t eat random things on a dare, especially things you cut off foreign animals.”
“You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”
“Not a chance.”
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