#tbb hunter x oc reader

[skellymom]

Welcome to my STAR WARS THE BAD BATCH fan fiction page!

Thanks to everyone who has been supportive, friendly and empathetic on this platform. Honestly, you guys have been a HUGE help on those dark and disquieting days.

"Vagabonds"

Ongoing OC x Hunter/Bad Batch Fanfic Series:

(Original Artwork by Skellymom. DO NOT copy, post, or use without permission)

Introduction: "Chaos On Coruscant"

+ Chapter 1: "Weight of the Galaxy" (posted 8/14/2023/reposted 1/24) NSFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/738467105361494016/vagabonds?source=share

"Vagabonds" #2: "Spotchka Under The Stars" (posted 9/12/2023) NSFW/SMUT

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/728315714878980096/background-hunter-and-mad-bond-make-love-and?source=share

"Vagabonds" #3: "Co-Conspirators" (posted 9/21/2023) NSFW/SMUT

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/729052697841582080/hunter-x-ocfem-reader-ongoing-series?source=share

"Vagabonds" #4: "Meet The Fam" (posted 10/5/2023) SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/730320896366149632/vagabonds-chapter-4?source=share

"Vagabonds" #5: "Secrets" (posted 11/8/2023) SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/733456994638462976/vagabonds-chapter-5?source=share

"Vagabonds" #6: "Job Gone Wrong" (posted 11/12/2023) SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/733835736590303232/vagabonds-chapter-6?source=share

"Vagabonds" #7: "Escape From Ord Mantell - Part 1" (posted 11/19/2023) SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/734468366280065024/vagabonds-chapter-7?source=share

"Vagabonds" #8: "Escape From Ord Mantell - Part 2" (posted 11/28/2023) SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/735297232933453824/vagabonds-chapter-8?source=share

"Vagabonds" #9: "In The Beginning" (posted 2/8/2024) SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/741739026615353344/vagabonds-chapter-9?source=share

"Vagabonds" #10: "Stranded" (posted 2/29/2024) SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/743633412345282560/vagabonds-chapter-10?source=share

"Vagabonds" #11: "In The Depths Of Darkness" (posted 3/14/2024) SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/744912201871245312/vagabonds-chapter-11?source=share

"Vagabonds" #12 "Love's Arrival" (posted 4/16/24) NSFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/747902380483526656/vagabonds-chapter-12?source=share

"Vagabonds" #13 "Precious Cargo" (posted 6/20/24) NSFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/753775679134466048/vagabonds-chapter-13-precious-cargo?source=share

"Vagabonds" #14 "In Confidence" (posted 7/31/24) NSFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/757579231979077632/vagabonds-chapter-14-in-confidence?source=share

"Vagabonds" #15 "Get In Losers (posted 8/8/24) NSFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/758223309018103808/vagabonds-chapter-15-get-in-losers?source=share

"Vagabonds" #16 "Trip Like I Do" (posted 8/14/24) NSFW SMUT!

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/758770205138845696/vagabonds-chapter-16-trip-like-i-do?source=share

"Vagabonds" #17 "WTF" (posted 8/15/24) NSFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/758867009187512320/vagabonds-chapter-17-wtf?source=share

"Vagabonds" #18 "The Force" (posted 8/21/24) NSFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/759480275949486080/vagabonds-chapter-18-the-force?source=share

"Vagabonds" #19 "Heart Of The Matter" (posted 9/9/24) NSFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/761182994193154048/vagabonds-chapter-19?source=share

"Vagabonds" #20 "Difficult Choices" (posted 9/12/24) NSFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/761407251706707968/vagabonds-chapter-20?source=share

"Vagabonds" #21 "Amaranthine" (posted 9/26/24) NSFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/762676548240277504/vagabonds-chapter-21?source=share

"Vagabonds" #22 "The Tempest" (posted 9/29/24) NSFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/762939005812801536/vagabonds-chapter-22?source=share

"Vagabonds" #23 "RETREAT" (posted 10/10/24) NSFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/763930279133970432/vagabonds-chapter-23?source=share

"Vagabonds" #24 &25 "Retreeat" & "The Nightmare" (posted 10/21/24) NSFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/764929745333927936/vagabonds-chapter-24-25?source=share

"Vagabonds" #26 "Hope and LOVE" (posted 10/29/24) NSFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/765645976136564736/vagabonds-chapter-26?source=share

"Vagabonds" #27 "Power Of The Force" (posted 1/23/25) SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/773452066226159616/vagabonds-chapter-27?source=share

"Vagabonds" #28 "The Gift" & #29 "The Warning" (posted 2/26/25) SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/776531746960375808/vagabonds-chapter-28-29?source=share

"Vagabonds" #30 "Retrieval Party" (posted 3/20/25) SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/778521573657329664/vagabonds-chapter-30?source=share

"Vagabonds" #31 "Dark Passenger" (posted 4/16/25) NSFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/780964321695088640/vagabonds-chapter-31?source=share

"Vagabonds" #32 "Rescue Party" (posted 4/23/25) SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/781602253244088320/vagabonds-chapter-32?source=share

"Vagabonds: #33 "Serpent" (posted 5/29/25) SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/784851552034783232/vagabonds-chapter-33?source=share

Vagabonds: #34 "Kamino Revisited" (posted 6/6/25) SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/785577385368158208/vagabonds-chapter-34?source=share

Vagabonds: #35 "Belly Of The Beast" Part 1 (posted 7/10/25) SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/788656881666228224/vagabonds-chapter-35?source=share

(Original Artwork by Skellymom. DO NOT copy, post, or use without permission)

CLONE FORCE 99/THE BAD BATCH GROUP FICS

"LOST & FOUND (In Amish Paradise) Chapter 2" (posted 7/17/25) BAD BATCH LAND ON EARTH SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/789376908999737344/lost-found-in-amish-paradise-chapter-2?source=share

"LOST & FOUND" (posted 4/29/25) BAD BATCH LAND ON EARTH SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/782210085449596928/lost-and-found?source=share

"MELEE" (posted 4/11/25) REVENGE FOR TECH'S DEATH SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/780566650350108672/melee?source=share

"SILENT BUT DEADLY" #1 in "ONE SHIT" Series (posted 1/1/24) FART HUMOR NSFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/739302379984388096/silent-but-deadly?source=share

"BOMBS AWAY" #2 in "ONE SHIT" Series (posted 1/22/24) FART/POOP HUMOR NSFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/740278235151106049/fionajames-talesfrommedinastation-n0vqni?source=share

"WHO DELT IT" #3 in "ONE SHIT" Series (posted 1/10/24) FART HUMOR NSFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/739120829947871232/who-delt-it?source=share

"REDNECK DOUG'S BATCHER FAMILY BBQ" (posted 9/5/23) Unhinged Family Drama/COMEDY/NSFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/727626634459529216/redneck-dougs-bad-batch-one-shot-background-bad?source=share

"BALLROOM BLITZ" (Posted 4/13/24) NSFW

The Bad Batch Fan Fic Clone Fic Gift Exchange FULL STORY

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/747672258377580544/ballroom-blitz?source=share

"HIGH TIMES" (posted 5/15/24) Medicinal Candy Mix-Up SILLY/NSFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/750529350552731648/high-times?source=share

"LITTLE BROTHER" (posted 6/14/24) Batch rehomes a baby clone. SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/753251556693032960/little-brother?source=share

"SLIDE" (posted 6/21/24-repost from 7/31/23) Jedi Groundhog Day SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/753955452070641664/slide?source=share

COLLAB

THE LAST ISLAND WOLF "ALTERNATE ENDING (posted 11/28/24) horror/SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/768424631791157248/last-island-wolf?source=share

Chapter 1-"The Tale of the Dathomir Witch"

Clone Force 99/Bad Batch Mini Series Fic

ONE witch attempts to save the galaxy (Posted 10/16/2023) SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/731338076301000704/the-tale-of-the-dathomir-witch?source=share

"The Tale of the Dathomir Witch" Chapter 2 (posted 10/17/2023) SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/731405312676003840/the-bad-batch-mini-series-halloween-fan-fic?source=share

"The Tale of the Dathomir Witch" Chapter 3 (posted 10/31/2023) SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/732696093237870592/the-bad-batch-mini-series-halloween-fan-fic?source=share

"The Tale of the Dathomir Witch" Chapter 4 (FINALE - posted 10/31/2023) Some violence/check tags

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/732696079947251712/posted-103123?source=share

TECH FICS

"Amber Eyes" Chapter 1 (posted 11/4/24) HOPE for Tech Fans! SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/766196448072187904/amber-eyes?source=share

"Amber Eyes" Chapter 2 (posted 11/23/24) HOPE for Tech Fans! SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/767923139764207616/amber-eyes-chapter-2?source=share

"For The Love Of Dog" (posted 7/29/24) Sweet SFW (features Crosshair)

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/757322076805906432/for-the-love-of-dog?source=share

ECHO FICS

"Wordless" (posted 9/3/24) Love/Hope SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/760581993393209344/wordless?source=share

"Smash and Grab" (posted 7/24/24) Angst SFW (Hunter featured too)

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/756858742702833664/smash-and-grab?source=share

WRECKER FICS

"Stasis" (posted 8/6/24) Love/angst and some humor SFW/NSFW epilogue

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/758038690108997632/stasis?source=share

CROSSHAIR FICS

(Original Artwork by Skellymom. DO NOT copy, post, or use without permission)

"The Platform" (posted 5/27/24) Angst SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/751604938204921856/the-platform?source=share

"Bring Me To My Knees" PART 1 (posted 3/7/24) SMUT++ /NSFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/744267915687264256/bring-me-to-my-knees-part-1?source=share

"Bring Me To My Knees" PART 2 (posted 3/7/24) SMUT++ /NSFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/744276448825769984/bring-me-to-my-knees-part-2?source=share

"Cup of Caf" (posted 12/4/23) Crosshairs sweet redemption arc SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/735755898541277184/a-cup-of-caf-the-bad-batch-crosshair-one?source=share

"Return to Pabu" Part 1 (posted 1/24/24) Companion to "Cup of Caf" SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/740375615328354305/return-to-pabu-part-1?source=share

"Return to Pabu" Part 2 (posted 1/24/24) Companion to "Cup of Caf" SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/740838054339723264/return-to-pabu-part-2?source=share

"Return to Pabu" Part 3 (posted 7/16/24) Companion to "Cup of Caf"SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/756137825067515904/return-to-pabu-part-3?source=share

"Return to Pabu" Part 4 FINALE (posted 7/16/24) Companion to "Cup of Caf" SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/756137857356349440/return-to-pabu-part-4-finale?source=share

HUNTER FICS

(Original Artwork by Skellymom. DO NOT copy, post, or use without permission)

"So Far From Home" (posted 5/7/25) SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/782927420672114688/so-far-from-home?source=share

"Little Interruptions" (posted 6/17/2024) MILDLY NSFW (mild smut)

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/753588665810386944/hiii-can-you-do-a-story-about-after-a-long?source=share

"The Incident" (posted 5/31/24) SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/751971675586822144/hey-skelly-youre-taking-requests-oh-id-love-to?source=share

"Healing Touch" (posted 5/28/24) MILDLY NSFW (suggestive)

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/751709195246649344/hey-skelly-i-was-wondering-if?source=share

"Unfortunate Turn Of Events (posted 3/21/24) SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/745530843675639808/unfortunate-turn-of-events?source=share

"I'm Your Man" (posted 2/29/24) SMUT++/NSFW (Body +)

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/743658453597323264/im-your-man?source=share

"Hunt And Peck" (posted 2/28/24) COMEDY SMUT/NSFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/743551116443336704/hunt-and-peck?source=share

"Sunset Over Pabu" (posted 2/12/24) ANGST/SADNESS SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/742174639837593600/please-like-comment-andor-reblog?source=share

"Fuck Around, Find Out" (posted 10/20/24) SILLY SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/770375451499757568/fuck-around-find-out?source=share

ORIGINAL ART

PLEASE send me some love too! I created this listing to not just help people find creatives, but to PROMOTE MY OWN Tumblr account. It's called networking, baby! ❤️

(Dividers Credit: @idontgetanysleep @phantom-z0ne @saradika )

IF YOU WISH TO BE ADDED OR DROPPED FROM MY TAG LIST, PLEASE MESSAGE ME! Don't comment as I might miss it. Thanks!!! ❤️

[staycalmandhugaclone]

Reassigned

Prompted by @clonexocweek's day one: First Meeting for the rather massive series of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!

We'll return shortly to your irregularly scheduled programming after this short, angsty break!

Warnings: Not a ton of warning: some bullying, some angst; written via phone, so probably could have used some more editing

WC: 1,480

There was a way these things were done; an unspoken social contract dictating some illusion of pleasantries in spite of whatever prejudice or disdain seethed beneath the surface, but I'd been warned long before forcing myself down the nauseatingly pristine halls of Kamino: the squad I’d been reassigned to flaunted their independence in every way they could absent thought of maintaining even a glimmer of such abstract notions of decorum.

I wasn’t deterred by those warnings. The thought of clones not only celebrating what self-autonomy they could but boasting that sense of individuality with unapologetic acts of rebellion offered a comfort both in ridding me of my own nervousness for adhering to the strict code of conduct dictated by rank in those first introductions as well as in the simple relief that they were allotted some glimpse of such freedoms at all. The variation in how closely these soldiers followed that code was staggering, fluctuating not just from legion to legion, but even between squads in the same platoon. Seeing some of the more reserved groups left me with a sense of gratitude for the men I’d initially found myself working with. Wolffe presented himself as some uncompromising, heartless tyrant, but the reverie and warmth that I'd so come to love amidst him and his men was evidence of just how deeply he cared.

But Wolffe wasn’t here. He hadn't offered to escort me like Boost had, a gesture I’d forced myself to turn down lest my first impression with my new squad present me as the weak, needy civi they surely expected. Still… I couldn't deny the deep disappointment, the confusion in how… clean our farewell had been… I hadn't expected tears… not from him, though I’d shed more than my share since learning of my reassignment, but he'd been so indifferent… cold… and that wasn't something I was used to from him… not anymore…

I tried not to focus on the shock that had stolen through me as he’d offered his hand when I'd moved in for a hug, tried to dismiss the ease with which he offered some rote semblance of gratitude for the work I’d done and platitudes toward my continued service with the GAR. I couldn't let myself focus on it, on him. He wasn't my commander anymore. I was no longer the medic of the 104th… For some unknown reason, a captain of the 501st had requisitioned me for a different squad altogether. None of it made sense, but I was in no position to voice objection to those orders. So, I walked through those sterile halls alone, cursing the way my heart pounded harder with each step toward the single room they'd been allocated in the stead of a proper barracks.

I'd read their files; studied reports of their unique abilities in addition to character evaluations that, even from the hands of a Kaminoan were… colorful, and I didn't doubt that they’d been granted ample warning about me, as well. I hadn't decided yet if the incredible strengths they were preported to possess were reassuring or frightening, and tried not to let myself form any conclusions until after at least meeting them.

The door to their room opened without preamble or warning, the software controlling it apparently already recognizing me as a squad member with full access. I stared into the jumble of gear and cables and miscellaneous supplies strewn between beds and tables and couches that certainly weren't regulation for several seconds too long, frozen in both surprise and confusion long before finally realizing that, as cluttered as the room was, it lay utterly empty before me.

Frowning, I slipped my helmet back on, eyes flicking to the chrono. I wasn’t late, nor was I inappropriately early… Glancing once more around the room, I also noticed a striking lack of footlockers at the base of each bunk…

Frown growing even harsher, I stepped back and started quickly toward the hanger. There was a mission already assigned to us, but we weren't slated to depart for several hours… My jaw tensed at the obvious conclusion I tried not to let myself draw, strides just short of rushed. I’d been so focused on what first impression I’d wanted to present that it never dawned on me how readily they'd use the opportunity to fully illustrate their apparent disinterest. Part of me wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt, to grant excuse for an unintentional mistake, but inventing such excuses would only lead to the creation of an endless cycle of similar events, and I had no intention of falling into that role, nor did I intend to make it easy for them to dismiss me so effortlessly, pace growing faster as I finally neared the hanger.

Their ship stood out among the far more popular LAATs, sharp fins boasting an elegance abandoned by the more utilitarian transports around it. I could just make out a pair of figures carrying crates up the ramp. The first quickly vanished within the cabin upon seeing me, but that quick glance was enough for me to note the shear mass of him, thick legs moving with surprising quiet as those final steps quickened to hide him from sight. The man behind him made no such effort to escape as I approached, dark helm tilting with an air of disdain I didn't need to see his eyes to feel.

“Think you've got the wrong ship.” His voice sounded almost hoarse, words drawn out with a slight drawl from lips clearly twisted into a scowl behind the cover of his bucket.

“Afraid not.” There was no apology in my retort, nor did I try to hide my own annoyance as I looked up at him. “I'm-"

“Don't care.” He interrupted, already turning back toward the cargo hold. “This isn't a cruise ship. Go play nurse somewhere else.” I felt the snarl pull at my face, shoulders pulling sharply back as I drew in a short breath to fuel my reply, but another man stepped out from the ship, strides deceptively laxed beneath a haughty stance, arms loose, torso leaned back just enough to give the impression that he was looking down on me despite his slightly shorter statute compared to the others, and I forced myself to release that breath in silence as I turned my attention to him.

“Thought we were supposed to meet at your barracks half an hour ago.” It wasn't a question.

“Must've missed that briefing.” My jaw clenched at the subtle, mocking lilt in his smoky voice.

“You certainly didn't miss the one about Scipio…” I muttered too quietly for the mic to pick up, but the barely perceptible tension that stole through him assured me he'd heard every word, proving the report of his enhanced hearing shockingly accurate. The home planet of the banking clan was, by all political standings, far removed from the war, thus any form of military presence could be grounds for far reaching repercussions. My knowing the location of their next mission was evidence enough of my place here, and he knew it.

I let that silence linger a moment, head tilting down just enough to indicate my impatience toward whatever hazing they’d planned, and to let him know that I knew he'd heard me.

“Seems like you intended on an early start. If your medbay is fully stocked, then I'm ready to go as soon as you are.” I let out a slow breath before I said it, tone reluctantly gentling into an unspoken olive branch I had to convince myself he deserved as I reached up to remove my helmet. He watched me for several seconds, and I loathed the way my skin crawled at that nauseating sensation of being studied, judged; of the unsettling certainty that I would never measure up to the impossible standards granted through a lifetime of training and meticulous genetic design, but I didn’t shy from the emotionless black crescent of his visor.

“It's stocked.” He finally replied, voice stiff, begrudgingly removing his helm as well. He looked so nearly identical to Wolffe and the others… but… not exactly. Beyond the startling half mask of faded ink, I could spot some differences. His nose was bigger, if only just, the already pronounced ridge even more prominent. The arch of his brows was softer, and his jaw slightly narrower. It was his eyes, however, that threatened to paralyze me.

I’d been to feral planets before; found myself the prey of frightfully dangerous beasts. Staring at him carried that same sense of dread, of danger. Here was a predator. He was stronger than me, faster than me, and I’d come to invade his home.

Without another word, he turned and tread back into the sanctum of his ship, and I knew it was the closest to a welcome I was going to get.

Click here or message me if you'd like to be added to a taglist!

Click here for my Masterlist.

[leenathegreengirl]

Classy AF 😌💅💕

💕💜Tag List💜💕

@legacygirlingreen @thora-sniper @thecoffeelorian @neyswxrld @somewhere-on-kamino @clonethirstingisreal @royallykt @morerandombullshit @burningfieldof-clover @tbnrpotato @keantha @returnofthepineapple @antisocial-mariposa @techs-stitches @resistantecho @kimiheartblade @dezgate @fiveofirstmuse @freesia-writes @heidnspeak @queenjiru @commanderfury @kyda-atshushi @deezlees @thebadbatchfan @aknightreaderr @eclec-tech @noirrart @justanotherdikutsimp @Teryx16 @jack-o-alltrades @ct7567329

[justaparsec94]

Celebration

Author's Note: Another February Fluff request, requested by anonymous. Written for the prompt: Soft, repeated pecks on the lips, causing the other to laugh/smile against their lips. Beware: Very soft FLUFF ahead.

Pairing: Hunter x fem!reader

Word Count: 4,933

****************

Hunter had travelled to many different places across the galaxy in his relatively short life. Unfortunately, though, most of the places he’d seen had been active war zones. For a soldier, death and destruction were just part of the job. But despite all of the carnage he had witnessed over the years there had still been times when he had been able to catch glimpses of all the galaxy had to offer. Wild oceans, peaceful forests, towering mountains, cities that felt like living things, even in the midst of the war beauty persisted. None of it, however, had ever compared to Pabu.

There was still a part of him that couldn’t quite believe that a place so beautiful, so peaceful could exist and that he, Omega, and his brothers were allowed to be a part of life on the island. He would be lying if he said the first few months hadn’t been a major adjustment for them. After a lifetime of battles, constantly watching their backs, and having no true home of their own, going from the structured lives of soldiers to free-will civilians had been difficult at times. Hunter especially had struggled with the change. There was a part of him that still felt guilty to have left it all behind, especially when he knew that Rex, Echo, and others were out there still fighting. It was hard not to think about what The Empire was inflicting on the rest of the galaxy while they were safely tucked away on their island paradise. But those thoughts were fleeting and grew less insistent as the rotations went on. Seeing Omega thrive was worth every doubt that plagued him. For the first time in her life, she was allowed to be a kid, she was happy, she was safe, and that was truly all that mattered to him. On nights like this one, watching her laugh and dance, her pure unaltered joy brimming out of her, he knew he would go through everything a thousand times over if it led to her happiness. 

While he and his brothers had taken time to adjust to life on the island, Omega had taken to it naturally. She embraced every aspect of it, especially the celebrations that seemed to happen regularly. Tonight was Pabu’s annual summer solstice celebration and the courtyard surrounding the Archium had been transformed. Lanterns and string lights bathed everything with a soft glow as the sun began to set, tables of food and drink lined the edges of the courtyard, and it seemed that nearly every person on the island had turned up for a night of dancing and socializing. His heart warmed at the sight of Omega in the midst of it all, her enthusiasm on display for all to see. She had been talking about this night for weeks and was clearly enjoying every moment of it. 

Tonight though, Omega wasn’t the only one who had his attention. In fact, he was having a very hard time looking at anything other than you. You were radiant as you danced with Omega and Lyana, head thrown back with laughter, smile brighter than the sun as the three of you held hands, dancing in a small, wild circle in the middle of the courtyard. Your breezy outfit swirled around you as you spun, your skin glowing beneath the lanterns strung across the courtyard. Even watching you from afar had his pulse racing beneath his skin. You were so beautiful, more beautiful than anyone he’d ever come across, both inside and out, and he had never wanted anyone the way he wanted you. 

He knew that on some level, from the way your pulse would quicken and face would flush whenever he was around, you found him attractive. But every time he thought about making a move, he just completely froze. He couldn’t fully understand it, usually, he was fairly confident in himself. He’d picked up enough dates from various places over the years. But when it came to you everything was different, he supposed it was because he wanted more than just one night with you. He wanted everything and he was terrified of messing things up. 

He sighed and slumped slightly in his chair as he continued to watch you laugh and dance with Lyana and Omega. The sight was causing an ache in his chest that he didn’t even know how to begin to deal with. For a moment, the desire to join the three of you was nearly overwhelming, but it vanished just as quick. Dancing was decidedly not in his set of skills. 

A scoff from beside him had him sitting up straighter suddenly. Hunter turned his head, his gaze narrowed, over to where Crosshair was sprawled across his own chair, long legs stretched out in front of him with his arms crossed over his chest. His hard gaze was trained on Hunter. 

“What?” Hunter asked gruffly, both annoyed that his brother was scoffing at him about something and the fact that his attention had been drawn from you. 

Crosshair rolled his eyes, the toothpick in his mouth rolling from one side to the other before he fixed Hunter with an unimpressed look, “Why don’t you just do something about it already and spare the rest of us from having to witness that sad look on your face any longer?” 

Hunter spluttered for a moment, face heating. Of course, Crosshair would have noticed. He noticed everything, a skill that was incredibly useful on the battlefield but incredibly annoying when it came to Hunter’s currently non-existent love life. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hunter replied gruffly but he was unable to stop his gaze from straying back over to where you were. It was as if you had a gravitational pull that only he was susceptible to. 

“Sure you don’t,” Crosshair scoffed. 

Hunter turned his head back just in time to swat away the toothpick that was headed his way before it collided with his chest. He glared at his brother, the urge to pick up the offending piece of wood and throw it right back at him was almost overwhelming but before he could even think about stooping to get it the sudden appearance of a smirk on Crosshair’s face had him freezing in place. 

“Oh look,” Crosshair hissed, grin widening, “here she comes…” 

Hunter’s head whipped around at an embarrassing speed, and sure enough, for once Crosshair wasn’t just trying to get a rise out of him. You were headed directly their way, drink in hand. When your eyes connected with his you raised your free hand and gave him a quick wave, solidifying your intention to join them.  

Hunter felt his palms begin to sweat as you made your way over to them, his heart rate picking up pace with each step that brought you closer. Your smile was so bright, so beautiful, and trained entirely on him. Before he even fully realized what he was doing he found himself standing up as you reached them. You greeted them both with a quick hello that he couldn’t seem to manage more than a deep grunt in response to. He tried his best to ignore Crosshair’s snort of amusement at his complete inability to keep himself in check as you drew to a stop in front of him. Your gaze was warm as you tilted your head back to look up at him, impossibly your smile seemed to grow even brighter. So much so that he averted his gaze, looking over your shoulder back to where you’d just come from. Misreading the movement as a question rather than what it truly was, a pure nervous tick,  you followed his gaze. 

“I really wish I had even half of the energy that those two do,” You said fondly, voice slightly breathless as you looked back over your shoulder at where Lyana and Omega were still dancing, “I was beginning to think I was about to keel over.”

Hunter’s fists clenched at his sides as he desperately tried to ignore the desire to reach out and touch you as you seemed to unconsciously drift closer to him, you were so close now that the smallest movement of his hand would have been enough to bridge the gap between the two of you. Your sudden proximity was quickly sending his senses into overdrive, every breeze had your scent enveloping him further. As usual, any time you were around you were suddenly the only thing he could focus on. His throat felt incredibly dry, but somehow he still managed to choke out a response to you, “Uh, yeah, those two have enough energy to power a hyperdrive.”

He ignored another snort from Crosshair at his bad joke, focusing instead on your soft laugh and the smile on your face that was so bright that it was nearly blinding. His face felt as if it were a hundred degrees as he watched you take a quick sip of the brightly coloured drink in your hand before you looked back up at him,  “Are you two enjoying your first summer celebration?” 

“Uh, yeah, it’s uh - nice,” He replied as he lifted a hand to rub the back of his neck awkwardly. Generally, parties and celebrations weren’t his thing, not that they’d ever had many opportunities to be a part of them before, but given that all of his senses were dialled to 1000 he tended to avoid crowds. But he supposed, as far as celebrations went this one was… nice. At the very least it wasn’t giving him a headache. 

“Nice…” You repeated with a soft chuckle before your expression turned teasing, “It’s a good place to start, but I guess we’ll just have to work a little harder to make it great.” 

Hunter watched with amusement as you lifted your drink to your lips, pausing for just a moment to flash him a wink that had him biting his lip before you downed the rest of the contents of your glass. He watched wide-eyed, face-burning, as you maintained eye contact with him as you put the glass down on a nearby table. 

Your face flushed and a quiet laugh escaped you before you spoke again, “Hunter, would you like to dance with me?”

Of all the things he had expected you to say, that had been very far towards the bottom of his list. He felt his entire body tense as his brain struggled to process the question you had asked. Equal parts desire and fear rushed through him at the thought of joining you out on the dance floor. The thought of being so close to you was overwhelming but even more overwhelming was the anxiety that came with it… he didn’t know how to dance. 

“I, uh,” He stuttered, his face feeling as though someone had taken a torch to it as his pulse raced beneath his skin. You were simply looking up at him expectantly, the same bright smile still on your face but he could see the look in your eyes beginning to shift the longer he took to answer. He wanted nothing more than to finally be able to touch you, to be so close, but the thought of embarrassing himself, of messing things up kept him rooted to the spot, “Uh…”

“One dance, just one - that’s all,” You continued softly with a shrug, still smiling at him,  “I’d like to try and make your night better than just nice."

To an untrained ear you would have sounded casual, light and airy, in your request but he could hear the undercurrent of doubt that had suddenly crept into your tone. As though you immediately regretted asking him, which only made him fluster even more. 

“I uh, don’t think that would be a good idea,” He finally managed to spit out, even though the last thing in the galaxy he wanted to do was disappoint you. And it was immediately clear that he had. Even though your smile barely faltered he still caught the slight downturn, the flash of pain in your bright eyes. He immediately wanted to take the words back but it was already too late for that. 

“Oh,” You replied softly, a nervous chuckle slipping out of you as you fidgeted with the strap of your top, “Yeah, no worries! That was probably a silly request anyway...” 

He was a di’kut. Not just any di’kut either. He was quite possibly the biggest di’kut in the entire galaxy, he decided as he watched your bottom lip tremble just slightly and your cheeks flush with embarrassment. It seemed you were unable to meet his gaze any longer and he watched in silent horror as you looked at literally anything other than him. 

“Well,” You said as you turned your head, clearly looking for an escape from the situation that he had made horrendously awkward, “I should maybe get back out there with the girls.” 

“Right…” He managed to choke out, unconsciously taking a step towards you, an apology on the tip of his tongue. He just needed to explain that you had nothing to do with why he’d turned down a dance. 

“Have a good rest of your night guys,” You continued, your smile still soft but considerably duller. Before he could even form a sentence he watched, frozen, as you slipped back into the crowd without so much as another look back at him. 

He watched you go, a lump forming in his throat as you joined Omega, Lyana, and now Wrecker in the middle of the makeshift dance floor. You were back to laughing and dancing with the group in moments, as though nothing had happened. 

“You’re a di’kut.”

Hunter startled, turning to glare at Crosshair who looked incredibly unimpressed from where he was still sitting.

“You’re one to talk…” Hunter shot back, unable to stop himself. He wasn’t even mad at Crosshair, he was mad at himself. You’d given him a chance at something more and he’d completely blown it.  

Crosshair simply rolled his eyes, “You’ve literally been pining over that woman for months and she finally makes a move you don’t have the guts to and you turn her down. Di’kut.”

He was right. He hated that he was right. 

“I don’t know how to dance,” It slipped out of Hunter before he could even stop it. The thought of eventually doing something that would mess up the friendship the two of you had, of destroying any chance of something more, went unspoken. Because truthfully, that was the root of it. If he kept his distance he could spend the rest of his days in safety, admiring from afar. He was a soldier, he didn’t even begin to know what a relationship would look like, but he was fairly certain he would mess that up. He’d messed up enough for one lifetime. 

“Who cares if you look stupid?” Crosshair scoffed, “Look at Wrecker, nobody cares. Just go dance with her.” 

Despite the truth in Crosshair’s words he stayed frozen in place, watching as you and the girls took turns being spun around by Wrecker, even without his enhanced hearing he would have been able to hear your giggles as you twirled. His heart clenched at the sight, he really was a fool. 

“Don’t waste your chance, Hunter.” 

He looked over at Crosshair who had schooled his look into one of casual disinterest but Hunter hadn’t missed the brief look of regret in his brother's eyes. For the things he’d done and missed out on, for the brother who would never get to experience any of it. Something inside of him solidified in that moment. He might be afraid of what came next but if he didn’t at least try he’d likely spend the rest of his life regretting it. 

Resolved, he was suddenly on the move, weaving his way through the crowd before he could fully comprehend that he was taking advice from Crosshair, of all people. 

He was only a few feet away when you caught sight of him and he watched with amusement as you completely froze in place. Your eyes widened comically as he crowded into your space until you were nearly touching. His heart was racing in his chest, his senses on overload at your proximity but for once he ignored it all. 

“Is that, uh, offer to dance still valid?” He asked somewhat awkwardly, trying his best to ignore the desire to look away from the intensity of your gaze, to fidget with his clothes, or to rub the back of his neck as anxiety coursed through him. 

Your answering smile was blinding, “For you, Hunter, always.” 

He chuckled softly, his heart rate reaching a speed that couldn’t possibly be healthy, “I should warn you though, I don’t know how to dance.” 

You laughed, shaking your head slowly as you grabbed hold of his hands. Your touch sent heat coursing through him like an electrical charge. Your voice was quiet as you leaned up into him, as though you were about to share a secret with him, “I don’t really know either. But that’s ok, we’ll just figure it out as we go."

He had the distinct feeling you were talking about more than just dancing. 

Hunter wasn’t able to stop the soft smile that spread across his face as you pulled away, but only just slightly as you guided his hands to your waist. He felt as if his skin was burning from the heat of you as you lifted your arms up to wrap around his neck. You were suddenly much closer than he had expected, your head so close that it would have taken only a slight turn of his head to bury his nose in your hair. Usually, such closeness was uncomfortable with his senses the way they were, but he found he didn’t mind though, with you it wasn’t nearly enough. He wanted you closer as you started to gently sway to the music. 

His focus was entirely on you as he followed your lead, swaying to music that was maybe a bit too fast for the rhythm you had set but you didn’t seem to care. Your grip on him tightened as you pulled back just enough to be able to look up at him. Your gaze was warm, sparkling with happiness as your eyes met his, “See, this isn’t so bad, is it?” 

He chuckled, his tone teasing, “It’s not the worst.” 

Your head tipped back as you laughed, the sound sending him nearly into heart failure, “‘Nice’ and 'not the worst', I'm really going to have to try harder to impress you.” 

He laughed again, shaking his head in amusement before turning sincere once more, “You don’t have to change anything to impress me.” 

The way your expression warmed at his words had him nervously looking away from you for a moment. A laugh escaped him at the sight that greeted him behind you. Wrecker had Lyana standing on one foot, Omega on the other, twirling the two girls around the dance floor, all three laughing loudly and drawing the attention of most in their vicinity. Hunter suddenly didn’t think he’d ever been happier, watching his family joyfully fool around and you safely in his arms. Even though there was a part of him that was still afraid of the unknown, it was something he could definitely get used to. It was something, he was beginning to realize, that he had always longed for.  

At your quizzical look he spun the two of you around so you could see what he’d been laughing at, “Looks like they’re having fun,” he said as you laughed at the small, silly group. 

“He’s a good dancer,” you replied, tone impressed as you smiled and turned your attention back to him.   

“Yeah, he must not have skipped that class on Kamino,” Hunter joked, earning another laugh from you. 

“Apparently,” You started before your own expression turned teasing, “it must have been while you and Crosshair were off learning to be brooding and mysterious…” 

Hunter snorted, his face heating slightly as he protested, "I am not brooding and mysterious,” At your raised eyebrows and skeptical expression he felt himself flush even further, “Alright, fine. Maybe a bit. Unintentionally.” 

“It’s ok, Hunter,” You replied softly but the amused glint was still in your eyes as one hand drifted further up his neck to his hairline, sending shivers racing down his spine, “You don’t have to change anything to impress me.” 

Undoubtedly, you were going to be the death of him, but what a sweet death it would be. He smiled slightly as he moved to grasp one of your hands, his voice low as he brought it down between the two of you.

“I think I might try though, just a little bit,” before you could say anything else he moved, spinning you out and away from him exactly as he had watched Wrecker do before pulling you back in towards him and spinning you both around in a circle. Your laughter was contagious and his pulse was racing as your body collided with his own as he brought you back in close.

You were absolutely glowing as you looked up at him, your laughter turning breathless as your gazes connected. The look in your eyes stole the breath from his lungs before you moved, arms wrapping around him once more as your cheek rested against his own. He wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, every nerve ending in his body electric as the curves of your body fit perfectly against his own. The two of you were quiet for a long time, swaying slowly to the music once more as you basked in each other's warmth. Everything around him had faded away as he focused entirely on the feeling of you. 

After what could have been minutes or hours you pulled back slightly, looking up at him, your eyes still glowing even in the darkness that had settled over the island, “Come with me,” you requested softly,  “the fireworks are about to start and I know a better spot to watch them.”

He nodded wordlessly, reluctant to let you go he only took a slight step away. His face flushed as you reached down to grasp his hand in your own, smiling softly at him before you pulled him along behind you, making your way easily through the crowd of dancers and other partygoers. You were silent as you walked but every once and a while you threw a look back at him over your shoulder as though you expected him to disappear. The only place he was going though, was with you. 

You didn’t slow until you reached an outlook a few levels down that jutted out over the ocean. With mostly everyone else being up at the Archium the place was completely deserted and Hunter felt his nervous system calm at the quiet seclusion of it. The festivities hadn’t been too bad but standing beside you, looking out over the water with only the soft sounds of the ocean was infinitely better. 

Hunter watched you as you leaned back against the half wall, angling your body so you were facing him. His hand was still grasped firmly in your own and as you smiled softly up at him you tugged gently on it, pulling him in closer to you. He went without hesitation, crowding into your space once more as the lines of your bodies pieced together. You tipped your head up to look at him, warm gaze tracing the lines of his face, as he instinctively reached out to you. One hand went to your waist while the other, ever so hesitantly, lifted to cup the side of your face. You closed your eyes, melting into his touch as your own hands slid around his waist, your touch leaving goosebumps across his skin in its wake. 

You both startled slightly as the first crack of a firework disturbed the silence of the night. You let out a breathless laugh as you turned your head to look, the bright reds and golds of the fireworks bathing you in light. Hunter didn’t even bother looking, he’d seen fireworks before and absolutely nothing compared to you and finally being able to hold you in his arms. 

Seemingly sensing his gaze you looked back towards him, the same gentle smile still on your face as your hands tightened just slightly on his waist. He felt close to combustion himself, every sense entirely consumed with you. He wanted nothing more than to kiss you, to close the final space between the two of you, but he seemed frozen, his heart absolutely racing in his chest at the thought. He wanted to know that you wanted this too, to be sure, because he was certain that once he started he was never going to want to stop. 

Your eyes seemed to be searching his face for something when he finally managed to speak. His voice was a rough croak as everything he was feeling seemed to be bubbling up his throat, “Can I kiss you?”

Your eyes lit up as fireworks continued to flash overhead, bathing the both of you in flashes of colour, “I thought you’d never ask.”

Hunter laughed, his face growing hot for a moment before he moved, finally closing the distance between you. Your lips were even softer than he had imagined, your warm scent washed over him completely as you pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. He moaned softly as you gently nipped at his lower lip, your hands sliding up from his waist to his back as his own grip on you tightened. It was better than anything he could have ever dreamed of. He broke apart from you for a second, his nose bumping against your own as he gasped for air. He felt light-headed, his entire body electric from just one kiss. He’d been right earlier, you were truly going to be the death of him. He felt your lips stretch into a smile before he kissed you again, his hand gently trailing down the side of your face to your neck. He could feel and hear your pulse racing, nearly as quick as his own as he kissed you. It thrilled him to know you were just as affected as he was. 

After a long while he pulled back, chest heaving slightly as he let his forehead tip against your own. Your gaze was a little wild as you looked up at him, lips swollen and red from your kisses and the sight did unspeakable things to him, desire pooling in his stomach at the thought that he had been the one to do that to you. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” You finally said, your voice a nearly breathless whisper as he lifted his hand back up to your face once more, marveling at how soft your skin was beneath his calloused hand.

Hunter chuckled softly as you pulled away slightly, just enough to be able to see his entire face, “I actually think I might have some idea.”

“Oh, really?” You asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow at him. 

“Well, if you’re anything like me it’s been from the moment we first met.” 

“Really?” You questioned as a teasing smile spread across your face, “If I remember correctly I’m pretty sure all you did the first time we met was grunt at me.”

Hunter laughed as his face heated, “Shush,” He leaned forward to press another kiss to your lips quickly, “I was just speechless.”  

You chuckled as your hands made their way up to thread through his hair, pulling him in closer to you, “Oh, yeah, sure…”

Hunter shook his head in amusement before closing the gap once more, capturing your lips with his own. He kissed you quickly, repeated, soft pecks against your lips to keep you from further pointing out his previous lack of social skills. His tactic worked as after only a moment he felt you smile against his lips before full-on laughing as he peppered you with kisses. 

He turned serious once more as you settled into a different sort of dance, the push and pull of your lips against his was intoxicating. Your kisses were warm and certain and he was breathless and completely lost in you. He wanted more as much as he wanted to keep things slow and savour the moment. 

You nipped gently at his lip one final time before you pulled away slightly, shoulders heaving softly as you attempted to catch your breath. You pressed up into him, nose brushing against his as you spoke softly, “Thank you for dancing with me Hunter.” 

The fireworks were still exploding overhead, bathing everything around you in light. The distant sounds of cheers and music were only just audible to his ears, but once again he found himself unable to focus on anything other than you, “Anytime.” 

And he truly meant it, he’d spend the rest of his life dancing with you if you let him. There were still a lot of things he was uncertain of, old soldier habits died hard after all. Without a doubt, there would be mistakes along the way but he found his doubts beginning to grow silent and the nervousness he’d felt before settling as you wrapped yourself tightly around him, your head resting gently against his chest as you turned your head to watch the sky above. He wasn’t going to waste his chance. He could learn to let happiness in.

[oceansssblue]

Hello, I hope that you are having an amazing day. If requests are still open, I have a funny Star Wars prompt/or/oneshot if you want. You know how in Top Gun, after Maverick flirts with a lady at a bar, only to find out the next day that she is his superior officer. What about a similar situation in the Clone Wars era, in which one of the members of the Bad Batch, or one of the 501st like Fives, flirts with a female Jedi reader (who's probably in her early twenties) at the 79s, not knowing that she is a Jedi General. Only to find out the next day that she is the Jedi General assigned to them for their next mission.

Her appearance in the bar makes her look nothing like a Jedi. She just looks like a civilian until she is in her jedi robes the next day. She doesn't deliberately deceive them or anything. She just wanted to unwind after an undercover mission. She just didn't think bringing up that she is a Jedi was important, she assumed they already knew. The only hint she gave on their "date" night was a happy and playful "see you tomorrow" as they part ways to get to their respective homes/barracks. She is happy to see them the next day.

Cool fun little oneshot! Decided to go with Crosshair, seems more like his thing.

Hope you like it!

Xx,

Sky.

"SEE YOU TOMORROW"

CROSSHAIR/F REDADER 📩💖

WARNINGS: ALCOHOL, FLIRTING&TEASING.

Your muscles still ache after a two year undercover mision in Alcaz. Spending long hours of running and hiding in the capital will do that to anyone; even a Jedi. Your first mision with the Order started years ago; even if you're still young right now. Everyone starts early these days; you went from youngling to padawan and Jedi Knight in just a blink of an eye. The war makes you feel older than what you really are.

It's weird being back in Coruscant. Back in a normal setting were you don't need to constantly be aware of your surroundings –even if it's instinctual, now–; where you're not constantly in danger. Entering 79's, your eyes quickly flickering over the crowd of tipsy clones and the dance floor, a tiny smile makes it up to your face. You feel inmediately relieved, somehow. You don't need to pretend here. You don't need to be a soldier, a Jedi Knight, a General. You don't have responsabilities and lifes dangling from your shoulders. Here, right now, you can just be you, a simple girl in her twenty-two's.

Happy smile still in your face, you make your way towards the bar. You order a sweet drink light on the alcohol side to start with; turning around and taking small sips while you scan the bar distractedly. There's a few eyes on you already. Not because you're necesarily pretty –though you believe yourself to look alright–; but simply necause you're one of the few natives around here, and more so a woman. Clones will always be ever the gentleman, it's ingrained in their discipline, their sense of honor; but they're still men, real humans, and they have urges like everyone else. Like Jedis do, too, no matter what many people think.

You're not really in the mood for sex, though. You're too tired for that; your plan is to spend a few hours drinking and chatting and then return to the Temple. You've got a meeting tomorrow, and you should make sure you get your well deserved, comfortable sleep. You're almost drooling thinking of a bed already, but you'd like to unwind a bit first; even though your body is tired, you feel your mind too active to surrender to dreamland yet. Plus, you need to disconect from your previous mision and adapt to your new situation; to the new changes.

A few troopers that you had the chance to meet before starting your jump around the galaxy to serve to the Jedi and the Republic recognises you, and you quickly find yourself chatting amicably in a booth with them. They're kind, and perfectly respectful; they speak to you as if you were a normal person, though –not a general, not a Jedi–, and you soon fall into a relaxed posture and a lazy smile. None of you speak about war, about their fears and worries; but of hopes and desires, jokes and secret lovers that await for them patiently all over Coruscant. Some look flustered after realising they've confessed such things in front of you; but you just shake your head and smile. You're glad they're finding some happiness wherever they can.

On your third drink in –and probably the last one, judging by your flushed cheeks and the low hum of carefree excitement & arousal spreading inside of you– you feel another stare on you. It's heavy, it's intent so clear it's almost screaming at you; and you listen to your Jedi instincts, eyes slowly flickering around the bar to find it's owner.

You come up with a pair of dark brown eyes. They're the exact same shade of most of the clones in the GAR; and yet, it's stare so much more intense. It could almost cut through you and hit someone on the other side.

You study him curiously in the same way he has been observing you before. Even sitting down in a booth with some other soldiers, you can tell he's taller than most; the shape of his body and muscles long and thin, agile, though still strong. It's impossible not to notice the tattoo around his right eye; it fits him well, really. What surprises you most about him –besides his stare– is his hair, though; a mix of greys so pretty it almost shines under the lights of the 79's.

He's still dressed up on armour, like a lot of other soldiers on the bar. His is black and grey with a few stripes of dark red; a white skull with a "99" underneath it on his right pauldron. It's right then and there when you understand who he is, who they are; and your eyes twinkle in amusement, your smile widening. This is Clone Force 99, the squad that will be under your command. The Council told you they were different, that they had special abilities very useful for battles; but they fail to mention you they were literally, physically different as well.

You understand... Crosshair's –he must be– cautious and curious study then; he might be wanting to find out who exactly their new General is, and how does she behave when she's not on duty like everyone else.

You shoot him a grin and Crosshair's neutral, almost uniterested face turns into a smirk. He arches an eyebrow, and makes a gesture with his head; a welcome for you to join them in their table. You nod and say your goodbyes to the troopers; smiling and shooting one or two more playful comments before making your way across the room, walking confidently to this squad of extraordinary men.

"Hey there, boys" you greet them, deciding for informality in order to not spoil their night of fun from the start. "Care if I join?"

There's various reactions around the table. Crosshair looks amused. Echo and Tech are purely surprised –the later one quickly scanning you almost as if trying to find information about you with just his eyes–; while Hunter looks hesitant. Wrecker is openly excited and happy.

"Yeah, take a sit!" He pushes his brothers to one side, making room for you in the circular booth their sitting in, ignoring the other's quiet, pained grunts.

They all look a little tipsy too.

You chuckle and take the offer, letting down your drink on top of the table and sitting besides Wrecker. Crosshair arches his eyebrow again, still finding amusing how you seem confident enough in a table –a bar– surrounded by men. He likes confidence in a woman, but such levels are a bit more rare.

"Comfortable?" He asks, his voice deep and smooth, almost a lazy drawl, and you grin back at him.

"Very" you answer, emphasising your answer by taking a long sip of your alcohol and laying lazily against the booths backrest.

After holding his stare for a few seconds, you turn your attention back to the rest of the group; scanning them curiously. They do de same with you.

"So, didn't have time to do a change of clothes?" You point out. "Did you come back from a mission today, or is this just an night outfit choice?"

Wrecker laughs, will Echo and Hunter show a tiny smile. Tech is completely serious still, lost in his thoughts without tearing his eyes from you. Crosshair also stares at you.

"We came back from a mission a pair of hours ago, yeah" Hunter finally answers, relaxing slowly. "Thought we should enjoy a bit of freedom before getting back to work tomorrow".

His voice is deep as well; a bit more soft yet raspy.

"Ah" you answer, smiling guiltily. "Got it. Well, I'm not going to cut out your fun, no worries. Feel free to drink and chat as much as you like. Also... This is still a good fit. Beautiful armour, guys".

This time Tech blushes, Echo clears his throat in silence and Wrecker, Hunter, and Crosshair, all smile widely. Ah, yes, you forgot; armours are precious to all Mandalorians, including clones, and you could have very well call them...

"So you think we're hot? That it?" Crosshair drawls, eyes interested.

You laugh shrugging your shoulders. Yeah, well, you might be a little too tipsy. This is definitely your last drink if you want to keep things professional. Force knows if you weren't a Jedi and this weren't your men you'd have had already tried to take one of them home. Huh, it seems you're not as tired as you thought.

"Pretty" you correct him, if only to mock him a bit and play with him.

Crosshair's stare darkens and you can feel his arousal and want calling you through the Force.

You smile down playing with the rim of your glass distractedly, and feeling a sudden wave of shyness. Alcohol is a dangerous thing.

The thought makes you giggle a bit.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The night goes on, and you switch to a non-alcohol drink as promised to yourself. The conversation turns normal and more easy as the clock ticks by; all of them being very interesting, fun people to chat with. Crosshair and Echo are more reserved than the rest; different types of quiet observing and thoughtfullness. You suspect the second one isn't as comfortable with your presence as the rest –while you have no doubt that that wouldn't suppose a problem in battlefield, you know he's an excellent soldier–; while Crosshair... Crosshair's intentions are still quite clear.

He's bold, you have to say. Most troopers wouldn't want to risk being reported for misconduct even if they know most Jedis would just gently shut their intentions down if it were the case. Clones usually don't want to risk it; though it's evident that Crosshair doesn't think you will or plainly, doesn't care.

It doesn't bother you. He's attractive, and it feels good to be desired; you're a Jedi, but you're also just twenty-two, and you can't help it yourself. Still, you're nothing but polite to him, if only a bit of playfullness here and there. You're not going to go to bed with him, not before your oficial meeting; not while you can still resist.

You sigh with a smile.

"Well, boys, it has been a pleasure" you start, standing up and patting Wrecker's shoulder besides you. "But I think I'm gonna go and try to shut an eye. Have your fun without me, see you tomorrow!"

Tech eyes widen slightly, observing your retreating figure while Crosshair makes a move to follow you out of 79's.

Tech grabs his brother's shoulder and pulls him back down, ignoring Crosshair's almost snarl.

"She expressed her desire to go to sleep, Crosshair. Let her be" he opted to say, still not 100% sure of his theory before proving it with a quick search on his datapad.

Crosshair sighed and gulped down the remaining of his drink.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

No matter that the Batch had left 79's pretty late in the night, they were all rised and prepared to meet their new General at 0600 puntually. Their faces carried nag under their eyes and various degrees of tiredness; but they weren't being shipped anywhere, so there was no real problem with that. It was just a formal meeting so they could put a face to the name and greet each other; then they'll be left alone to enjoy the rest of their shore-leave day.

"I hope she's nice!" commented Wrecker while they waited up in a line in front of the Marauder.

Hunter hummed.

"I just hope she lets us do our thing" he muttered, clearly not very happy about the new placement.

None of them were particularly enthusiastic; they had never had a personal Jedi General before, and it would be a big change for everyone involved.

"I am confident she will" answered Tech, perhaps the only one holding positive thoughts about it. "I have thoroughly researched our General in the early hours of the morning and she has an impressive record on undercover missions and other side tasks. It seems she is usually sent on unusual requests as well, just like us. In adition, she is fairly easy going. I am positive we would all be able to adapt to each other well".

Right when Wrecker was going to ask with a deep frown etched on his face how did he know she was as "easy-going" as Tech affirmed, a female figure crossed the doors of the hangar walking towards them with wide confident steps.

Wrecker's, Echo's and Hunter's faces stared back in shock; while Tech nodded firmly as if he were explaining something to them, and Crosshair followed the young Jedi's movement full of intrigue and a masked surprise.

"Morning, troopers!" She greeted them, still a few meters away from them.

Her smile was radiant in the greyness of the hangar bay.

Crosshair leaned towards the smartest of his brothers, subtle.

"Punishment for fucking your Jedi General?" he asked in a distracted whispered, eyes never leaving the woman aproaching them.

Tech answered completely unbothered by his antics; posture firm.

"From an informal reprimand to proper decomissioning".

Crosshair smirked.

"I'll risk it".

He arched an eyebrow in amused defiance when she looked straight at him.

THE END.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taraaa! Here it is love, hope you like it! It was a little fun cheeky thing to write :)

Not checked after finishing writing it cause I have exam tomorrow and still got a few finals left, but I hope I didn't make a lot of mistakes!

Only two more requests left before I jump onto another tbb Mermaid fic. Don't worry, yall, I will reopen requests the future, just let me survive my exams first ;)

Stay tunned!

Xx,

Sky.

Back to masterlist here:

[queenofspades6]

I need more seasons of The Bad Batch! I can’t believe this amazing series is almost over… what am I supposed to do after? Just live my life like nothing had happened? These characters are part of me, and I don’t want their story to end.

What do you think?

[blxkstar]

POV: You're in Star Wars!

This is a playlist I created taking all my Star Wars playlists and combining them into one. (With some tweaks to make it better)

Please check it out!

If you like this playlist, check out the others I have made for more specific Star Wars characters and scenarios.

[lucky13kola]

Imprisoned

Photo from @empiregothic

Summary:

After months of tedious collections of information on your Separatist Admiral father, you take a bigger risk than usual and send out your information to the Republic. But you get caught. Story starts after having been in space prison for a bit. And a specialized clone squad is sent to recover you from a high security prison.

Pairings:

Platonic Bad Batch x reader (Not meant to be read as romantic but could be super slow burn lol, platonic, as if you were just a plot in an episode)

Warnings:

Use of needles ( nothing graphic just a prick), isolation, typical canon violence.

Okay well here is my silly lil 5000 word fic that I wrote for fun :)

Reader is gender neutral, no use of y/n, almost no description of reader

Word count - 5000~

The cell door closed again and you finally had some peace and quiet. Not Peace, but certainly

quiet. As the last lock of the mechanic door clicked into place sitting down on the cot you see the small belongings you had were rifled through when you were at the mess hall for the first meal of the day.

It had been a long twenty three days. The separatist prison hadn’t been kind to you, being the offspring of a well known separatist admiral had made you a target. Most of the people in the prison knew exactly who you were, one brave prisoner even took as far to shiv you in your side. You were in the infirmary for almost two weeks because of that but luckily the wound itself wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. Now you were under such strict protection with guard droids always an arm length away. You knew without looking there were two assassin droids waiting on the other side guarding your door.

Sitting down on the hard cot you felt a dull ache in your right side where the bacta patch felt like it did little to help the healing process. Laying down you could feel how much your back and side were truly aching from the poor sleeping conditions weighing heavily on the healing wound. A slow breath in is a feeble attempt to still yourself. The prison was stripping you of your emotional peace but it did bring you comfort to think the information that you leaked would be useful in stopping the ever expanding destruction of the separatists. An unintentional deep exhale slipped your lips and the ache grew slightly being disturbed.

Laying against the pillow that was probably nothing more than a few layers of fabric, it was better smelling than the one in the med bay and that brought something akin to comfort. Although you would’ve killed to be laying back in your old bed. Your father’s recent recruitment as an admiral had thrust you into a higher tax bracket that you thought was untouchable. But that wealth brought guilt, knowing it was from the spoils of war and despair. It was so different than the life you led before, being self-sufficient and working hard to sustain yourself financially. The life before being thrown in the cell was comfortable and enjoyable at times. Worming your way into various meetings posing as an intern offering coffee runs and as a person to bounce ideas off of for your father’s associates. They found it hard to believe you had been collecting tabs on all of them. All the times you sat quietly in the command room you were recording anything vital they said to pass off to the republic. You had hidden your disgust of all the wealthy separatists and military officials well, with polite smiles and quiet nods. Your father was the most disappointed. The smile he had when you first asked to attend a meeting, he was beaming. eager to involve you. It was months of collecting intel, it took a while before the intel started to become more alarming. You had taken the chance to send out intel, knowing how dire the latest plans you had learned about needed to be immediately shared. But it had been your downfall, as far you could tell the intel had gotten out and you were successful. Your father being grossly upset with you also suggested your attempts to help the republic had worked.

The weight of your body felt heavy against the durasteel and the pathetic sheets. Shifting did nothing, the cold metal prickling against your skin was startling in sensitive spots. With a deep inhale and exhale you were letting your mind drift to the past few months of being a spy. Your heartbeat slowed, and you let your mind start to seep out into the cold energy of the cell. The walls were thick, but the minds inside some of the nearby cells were loud if you stopped and steadied yourself. The energy from beyond your walls was erratic , tense, high strung. It was relaxing to tap into the prison, and the life force of those in it, even if they other prisoners weren’t good company. You couldn’t pull exact words or coherent thoughts beyond vague feelings and shifting of energy. Letting yourself sink deeper, your body feels heavier in a more relaxed state. The ache is dull now falling to the edge of your mind. Time is blurry, falling between half sleep and listening to the conversations of the ever present force.

Its sudden and sharp, but you hear it echo in your mind , They’re in this cell block.

It juts you out of your peaceful stupor, and your body comes back in needle-like waves. The lights are suddenly very bright, the metal feels too chilling, and the prison jumpsuit is scratchy. But you were certain you heard, not hear physically, but the impression of it keeps echoing in your mind. And you’re almost certain someone here is searching for you. Your heartbeat quickens, unsure of what this means, and caught off guard. Sets of droid footsteps grab your focus. Something heavy in your stomach is telling you to look, that’ll be relevant.

Stepping on the stiff durasteel floor is bracing, and the pain medication you have been on is starting to fade into nothingness in your system. It takes a few seconds but you step to the door of your cell. Part of the heavy metallic door has a portion you can peer out that’s ray shielded. Through the blurry redness you see two prisoners who you’ve never seen before. They must be new, and the guard droids are escorting them to their new cell. It’s hard to make out details leaning dangerously close to the ray shield but some features jump out. As far as you can tell the fresh meat both have facial tattoos. You can’t see major detail but the one with longer hair has a long stretch of ink across their face. They seem quiet and stiff, and carry themselves with deliberateness. One of them looks at your small slit in the cell door, meeting your eyes without hesitation. Instinctively it makes you take a step back. You’re not looking to get stabbed for a second time. Their gaze is brief, but feels like a wave of intense energy drowns you for a second. The line is blurred between the force and anxiety.

The two rather tall and sturdy men pass, silently, and you can tell their cell isn’t that close to yours. Almost no one’s is. Your father, while distancing himself from you, had gone extra lengths to ensure your safety at the prison. Despite the lack of visits. Honestly it was surprising you hadn’t been executed for your treason against the separatist alliance. Your father must’ve been fighting tooth and nail against whatever capitol punishment was supposed to be headed your way. However no news of anything that horrendous had reached you. The thought had crossed your mind that something worse had to be happening behind the scenes. There must’ve been a trade off, a lack of execution meant you had a new role to fill in Dooku’s death march against the republic. The thought made your stomach sink but you just had to sit back down and let the feeling pass. There was nothing to do anyways except drift somewhere between sleep and the force.

It must’ve been hours, but your body forces you awake as the high pitched affirmation beeps on the other side of the cell. Trying to sit up but your side is protesting against your efforts. Your feet swing around. It’s second meal time. The heavy locks undo themselves and the ray shield drops. Two assassin droids are armed and ready to escort you to the mess hall. While it was suffocating to be under such an oppressive watch it offered your a bubble of

protection that you were immensely grateful for walking around the prison.

The mess hall is busy. There’s not many people still grabbing their portions as you step into line, still flanked from two guard droids as you do. Your rest didn’t feel like enough and your movements are sluggish as you shuffle through the line. The guard droids make sure no one in front or in back of you is too close. You can’t stand too close to the food the droids serve because you think it might make you sick. The smell is disturbing, but your stomach is twisting anxiously as you move through the line offering your tray towards the droid. After the food is unceremoniously plopped on, you realize why your body is acting so on edge. Out of the corner of your eye you see one of the new prisoners. Staring back at you with no hesitation, holding their utensil very still in their hand. It irks you, it feels like the same way the one who stabbed you stared at you. Some of the prisoners have a tendency to look, that’s a given, but the new prisoner with silver hair feels like he’s dissecting you with his eyes.

It takes a second to break away, not realizing your staring back as the droid makes a noise forcing you out of your daze. You take a hesitant first step but find your footing again as your followed by the ever present guards to the empty table that was always cleared for you. You sit down, you can still feel your stomach slightly churn. You’re trying not to stare back, unsure what the gaze could mean. In the back of your mind you're trying to think of what landed them in this prison, worried that the silver haired prisoner could have a grudge against your father he’s looking to level. You risk another look, but he’s not even staring back. But you get a good look this time, you’re able to take in the fact he is well built and could probably take you out in a fight if it came down to it. Not to mention the glaring facial tattoo that covers one his familiar brown eyes. The droids shift around slightly and it breaks your focus.

You turn back to what you’re supposed to be eating and you just have to not think about it and distract yourself to get through it. Mindlessly you eat but you’re watching the crowd. You can see some of the prisoners in hushed tones talking to each other, mostly likely about the new meat. The prison isn’t very big, anyone who lands themselves in this high security prison is usually a somebody. Not many war criminals, your father was particularly careful to not put you in arm’s reach of the republic.You’re a dangerous loose end for him. You wouldn’t even be surprised if Count Dooku himself orchestrated the stabbing himself. It makes you on edge to think about it, if the Count was to go behind your father’s back and have you killed in an ‘accident’.

You're ripped away from your mental ramblings by the clattering of a food tray. It almost startles you and you suppress the urge to jump. Looking up you’re confused, someone has sat down with you. It takes you a second but recognition flashes across your features , it’s the second new prisoner. The one with the longer dark and you get a good look at the tattoo on the side of his face now. You can see the way it supports the contours of his face, and you realize he must be a clone. You’ve only ever met one other clone after living so deep in separatist space far from the republic, and he doesn’t quite look the way the one sitting in front of you does. It makes you pause. You realize you’re staring a bit, and the clone infront of you is looking just as intensely back at you trying to figure you out.

His gaze flits quickly to the two droids flanking you before speaking. “ You seem lonely.” His tone is a slight dig, toying with you.

Your brow creases in annoyance and you let your gaze drop to the food when you realize this conservation most likely wouldn’t be fruitful. You're more so playing with your food than eating it. It was annoying when prisoners would come around trying to antagonize you, it’s not like anyone could do anything with two armed assassin droids clipped at your heel. Out of the corner of your eye you can see the silver haired clone has turned to watch the two of you. You're about to turn your whole head towards him but the one in front you speaks up again.

“ Rex sends his regards.” His voice is flat, and gravely almost, but there is an obvious undercurrent to his tone. It makes your head snap towards him in realization and you open your mouth to speak but you're at a slight loss for words. Rex was the one who gave you an encrypted military channel so you could leak the intel you had found safely. The tattoo on his face twitching into a slight smirk knowing he’s got your full attention now.

“ You know Rex?” The words spill out of your mouth in confusion before you can think twice about it. You looked over the clone again with new eyes trying to decipher more about the man in front of you.

“ He got your message.” He says very carefully, aware of anything he says around the droids could be used against him. Relief floods you for a moment, your intel to the republic made it. You feel triumphant for a moment. All your effort, the near death experience of sending out the intel, betraying your father, throwing your cushy life away, had been eating you away. Maybe your time in this suffocating hell hole has been worth it.

The clone sitting in front of shifts and he continues , “ Most of it.. there’s a few parts we need your clarification on.” He continues and looks at you, watching your expression partially falter as you realize not all the intel had gone through. It makes you wince internally and you stuff it down. After your initial disappointment, you realize the use of ‘we’

Your brow creases deeper, and you carefully eye the guard droids out of the corner of your eye before speaking again. “ We ..?” You repeat hesitantly, worried the guard droids would just snatch you away and lock you back into your cell again. The clone nods up and you follow his gaze. And he’s gesturing to the silver haired man sitting down, still dissecting you with his gaze. Raking over his face again you can see the similarities in their facial structure, and it hits you they might both be clones. But they certainly looked different from Rex, and the holos of other clones you had seen in the war room and it throws you off. You turn back around your head slightly cocked trying to put the pieces together of why these men were here in the first place. Your mind is starting to race, his words echoing in your mind that they might be here for you.

“ Rex vouched for you” He says in a serious tone, but is anxious about setting off your two guard droids. “ He says you can get us what we need.” He pauses his toying with his food to meet your gaze. His body is stiffer and he leans in a bit more, lowering his voice , “ And I need to know if my squad and I can trust you.” His tone is sharp and leaves no room for second guessing.

It takes you a second to process it, because it sounds like Rex had maybe sent a squad to come and rescue you. Unfortunately the first response you can think of is slightly sarcastic, “ I didn’t get thrown in here for my loyalty to the separatists.” You state back a little bitter that this man assumed you still had loyalties to the separatists, or maybe just your father. But the state of worlds you had seen after your father’s forces wreaked havoc on planet after planet was enough to radicalize you.

The clone lets out a slight huff of amusement, but there is some annoyance simmering. He’s taking this deadly serious. But it’s hard to tell what the soldier is thinking, leaving you in the dark. His eyes began taking in your form as much as he can as if he sees something you can’t. It’s silent for a moment and you feel a little concerned how hard he and the other clone are staring you down contemplating this. And he sighs, and shakes his head , “ well we didn’t come all this way for nothing.” He looks over to his compatriot, and they share a look of acknowledgement and they seem to be thinking something they’re not sharing. The silver hair one stands, and you can see how tall and slender he is, he smoothly walks closer to your guard droids but keeping a practical distance. The Clone with the skull tattoo then looks to the guard droid no longer focused on you as they look at the two guard droids waiting for a cue. Your brow is creased as you can feel the tense energy rolling off of the two clones in waves.

You blink and you miss it. All the lights go dark, and half a second later alarms start blaring. Red light vaguely bathing all the shapes in front of you. The power is out and in a few seconds you see the two clones go for the guard droids. You hear the fight more than see it. Only emergency lights illuminating their silhouettes and you hear two concise blaster shots, and the smoke hits your nostrils. You’re standing now, heart racing as it’s clear these two are your ticket out of here. You can barely breathe and you can hear the sounds of the clones checking over the blasters. The soft halo of red light illuminates the clone with long hair, he places a firm hand on your shoulder . “ Stay close. Stay low. And do not second guess our orders.” He’s looking at you but in the low light you can’t even see his eyes. You give a quick nod back, but your body feels shaky with the suddenness of the situation.

There’s no time to dwell on the feeling, his hand is a strong grip, similar to that of holding a blaster. But he’s pushing you towards a doorway. The other clone is following up the rear, it’s hard to see exactly what they are both doing. But in the chaos you’re impressed by the blaster shots the taller clone begins landing on the guard droids intent to disrupt your path. You get jerked to the exit of the mess hall to avoid being in the line of fire. There’s a quick blaster shot at the control panel, there’s little time for courtesy as he keeps shuffling you with determination to an exit. You're stumbling over your feet at first but you're finding the rhythm of walking in line with the soldiers. Part of you can sense the way they are walking is slowed down for you, and you make an effort to keep up but your side is straining every time you do.

You haven’t seen this part of the prison before everything is unfamiliar and you’re realizing how big this facility truly is. The shorter clone suddenly flattens you against the wall as you’re about to round a corner. The red lights are hindering your vision, but the silver haired clone moves ahead of the two of you landing three precise blaster shots on the guard droids ahead before they even look your way. Your breath is getting shaky as you’re forced to keep moving. Your wound is starting to get the best of you, as it aggravates with every step and quick movement to hide against cover. They stop again at another junction. The taller one keeps firing making sure no droid can get too close. But the one with the skull facial tattoo turns to face you , brow deeply furrowed. He finally speaks to you “ How you holding up?” You don’t even have to respond as he’s seeing your current state, you feel woozy and hope that you can just make it just enough to escape.

With a sharp inhale between your teeth you nod determined, there’s not much you can do except hold out. “ I can make it.” Your tone is almost brave and firm and it does reassure the clone just a little to hear you want to escape this badly. He nods in acknowledgment.

“ For kriff’s sake Hunter use the stim shot.” The taller clone retorts with a challenging tone. The tall one doesn’t even look back at you to know what shitty shape you're in. He keeps firing his stolen blaster, head on a constant swivel taking down the incoming droids like fish in a barrel.

“ I didn’t think it would be that bad. “ The longer hair clone stops firing around the corner, and he pulls something from a pocket of his prison jumpsuit. It’s a blur , but he says without hesitating “hold still.” And with the same firm grips pulls you in closer, finding a patch of bare skin. You don’t see it but you feel the pinch of the needle.

You don’t mean to be so shocked but it’s quick and the pinch is sharp. “ Ow” you instinctively slip out, recoiling as soon as he lets go. It stings but you know there’ll be relief in a minute. He gives you a slight remorseful look but he can’t dwell on it getting you out of here is more important. He gives your shoulder a gentle reassuring squeeze before he lets go. And he turns back to the action, his demeanor suddenly switching back into a soldier. Their blasters both raised down the hallway, “We’re almost to the extraction point. “ He gruffly states as he looks back at you seeing your starting to recover slightly.

You shake off the sting in your neck, the stim shot was needed but it still was a sting nonetheless. The clones press forward, you can see the one with longer hair glance out of the corner of his eye at you in the low light. You can’t tell how much is concern and how much is suspicion. But you're hoping the concern weighs out more. He pulls you to cover but not as harshly this time. You flatten your body against the wall and you can hear the exchange of blaster fire at the back of you seeing the lanky clone take down the droids. The other one is over the control panel, and he’s practically smashing the key codes now. “ Tech’s codes aren’t working.” He says in his frustration. You look over to see his apparent frustration. Your brow creases seeing your chance of escape start to slip through your fingers and it makes your stomach sink. Your hand twitches you could unlock it. You’ve done it before, you unlocked a hundred doors without the key code. If he stepped aside, you would just need a few seconds of quiet.“ They must’ve - “

He’s cut off by a close blaster shot, precisely hitting the keypad. The silver haired one had shot the panel and the sliding doors sputter slightly open functioning on emergency energy. You can see the longer hair clone furrowed his brow annoyed but the other speaks up with a slight smirk “ you were taking too long.” You're slightly amused by the interaction but there’s no time to even chuckle , as the one with the skull tattoos quickly leads you through the crack of the door. It’s dark but the room it leads to is big. But it looks like this must be a transport hangar. The end of the room has a ray shield and you can see the dark stretches of space dotted by the stars. Seeing something other than durasteel walls again makes your breath hitch, but you snap out of it following the two clones near the terminal. One is punching in codes, while the other one keeps landing difficult shots in the darkness on droids you can barely see.

But the door that led you in here, now is being pried open by the mechanic hands of droids. Innately you can feel it must be a whole squad coming this way that would overwhelm all three of you. The two clones exchange a quick glance worried for their circumstance, it feels like things are not going to plan clearly. “ Tech should’ve been here by now.” He stops fiddling with the terminal as some of the droids start to slip through the door that now has a wider crack. They are both firing at the onslaught of droids now coming in. To take cover you’re all forced back into a small alcove of storage supplies, as soon as all the droids fill the room you’ll be trapped. You’re looking around for something or anything to help your circumstance. The soldiers’ gazes are trained ahead on the growing threat you're now facing as you try to look for something that would be useful. You look into one of the crates, nothing but prison jumpsuits. You quickly peek in another, and another. Hearing the slight commotion you’re making, the silver haired clone throws a sharp glance your way, and he’s about to say something sharp. But you open a holy grail of supplies, it’s portable fuel canisters.

“ Here.” You pull as many as your hands can hold out , and he stops shooting for a second slightly impressed with your find. The long hair one shares this sentiment but can’t spend long on it.

“ Good work.” The shorter one gruffly says and you can tell he didn’t expect you to be proactive, and grabs two out of your hands. “ I’ll throw .” He says turning back formulating a plan with his brother. The silver hair clone nods, his focus becoming pointed again. You see him give you a sidelong glance before lining up his blaster anticipating the arc of his brother’s throw. With a firm throw the two fuel canisters are tossed within range of the hangar’s entrance. The tall one lands shot on one of the canisters before it can even hit the ground. You see it blow, of mixture of reds, oranges and some blues of whatever was in the fuel burns. The wave of heat hits your senses and you instinctively push yourself against what little cover you have. The blaster fire lessens for just a few moments.

“ Finally.” The roar of a ship can be heard, and you dare to peek from your cover. And coming through the ray shield comes a ship that’s nothing like some of the republic ships you knew of. The piloting is erratic but precise it moves into the hangar harshly. “ About time, “ The longer hair clone continues and turns to face you and there’s a sense of pride in his voice “ Our rides here.”

The gangplank to the ship opens, and it sounds almost like a hearty battle cry, a very large armored soldier begins firing into the mess of droids still marching in. You’re jerked from behind cover , “ Let’s move” and you followed the skull tattooed clone with a sense of urgency. Freedom actually is right in front of you now, and even if your side is burning up, there’s no chance you're hesitating. Running towards the gangplank the larger clone is firing, and he doesn’t seem to have the same brooding disposition as your two rescuers. But as soon as you get within arms length the bigger clone stops pulling his helmet to look at you with his one good eye.

“ They look nothing like the holo !” He quickly exclaims as if you all had time to talk in the middle of escaping.

You see the lanky one roll his eyes as he follows you aboard but your two rescuers say at the same time , “ We know.” It catches you off guard , and you’re wondering what the hell holo they had of you. You hear the controls getting punched in the ship “ Get us the hell out of here Tech.” The one with the skull tattoo barks his order as if it’s second nature.

The ship lurches forward, and you're thrown off balance a bit and your side makes you wince. And a new clone you haven’t seen supports you. His metallic scomp for an arm keeps you steady and gently helps you to a seat. “ You alright civ?”

“ Civ?” You repeat hesitantly, not a nickname you had been called before. Traitor and backstabber was the most recent in a long list of nicknames you weren’t fond to repeat. Your side hurts but you're ignoring it and just feel relief to sit on something that wasn’t a durasteel bench or shitty prison cot. You don’t know how much longer the stim shot in your system can hold you over now. Your blood is still rushing in your ear and you’re realizing how out of breath you are.

“ like civilian -“ The paler clone quickly clarifies for you nicely, and his more gentleman- like demeanor relieves some of your anxiety.

“ More like spy.” The silver hair clone cuts through sharply, still in the same prison jumpsuit as you but now somehow with a toothpick lulling in his mouth. He’s sat down across from you and there’s a fair amount of distance, but not enough. His piercing gaze is enough to make your stomach turn. But it makes your blood boil for him to insinuate that you could still be loyal to the separatists. It’s enough to make you want to snap a harsh rebuttal, opening your mouth you’re cut off.

The paler one turns back to you sensing the tension about to come to head. “ How’s your side?” He’s trying to redirect you, and you break your stare to gaze back at him.

You blink and exhale, you’re still feeling the anxiety and urgency of escaping the prison. There’s a sense of relief but not yet. You don’t even know these clone’s names. “ It’s sore .. but it’s fine.” You’re kinda masking how much it really hurts, but it’s a blurred sensation between the stim shot and out running guards you can’t tell how much it’ll hurt later or how bad it is. You’re trying not to let your heart race, but you’re on a strange ship. A Republic ship. You have no idea where you’re going, you know you were only rescued only for your valued intel. Your stomach clenches a little at the thought. Just because you didn’t like the separatists didn’t make you a blind patriot to the republic.

“ I’m Echo, by the way. “ He pulls you out of your thoughts, and it makes you self conscious wondering how long you must’ve stared off for. “ That’s Crosshair “ he points back to the silver haired clone still glaring daggers at you. “ Wrecker , Tech , and Hunter.” He gestures to the largest clone, maybe the largest man you have ever seen. Remembering how he said you look much different than the holo they had of you. And the one called Tech quickly turns around with the ship being in hyperspace. He’s holding his datapad as he makes his way towards you and your intuition is telling you he has a thousand questions. He’s about to speak but Hunter , you’re partially relieved to finally be formally introduced, holds up a hand stopping Tech in his path.

“ You should get some rest Civ.” He says more like an order than a suggestion. Your first instinct is to brush it off. You’re too uncomfortable in a strange setting you don’t want to let your guard down. Especially around the silver hair- Crosshair, who seems to think you have something up your sleeve. You want to protest and your brow flinches but it’s no use seeing the look Hunter gives you.

And is quickly cut off by the bigger clone butting in, “ You can take my bunk!” He quickly exclaims. Wrecker stands leading you to the back. You can see the scatters of toothpicks , random wires, spare parts, and a knife sharpener just laying around that you have to step over. And you’re realizing how dank it smells in there , the stale air of traveling through hyperspace for days. Wrecker stops you at a bunk and your lips twitches upwards when you see a stuffed tooka settled on the pillow. “ Oh “ He realizes your reaction and has a warm smile “ That’s Lula! You can hold onto her if that helps you sleep better “ He steps to the side so you could actually sit on the bunk now. “ It helps Crosshair “ He teases with a smirk on his face, and you can’t help a small laugh leave your expression. It’s nice to have him break the ice a little because you’re dreading when you need to face the clones again. You’ll have to recall every small piece of information you had ever come across even if it seemed insignificant.

“ Thanks Wrecker “ You're realizing how little energy your voice is carrying but you made an effort to make your voice sound warmer. You’re grateful one of them offered a bunk so you could rest on something that wasn’t a durasteel cot. The pillow looked real too, something that wasn’t just a pathetic excuse to rest your head on.

“ No problem Civ! I’ll let ya’ rest” His voice is kind of louder than you would like at this moment but his energy is contagious to say the least. It’s funny to hear that nickname again but you ignore it.

Laying down your entire weight settles into the bunk. It feels so much better than what you have grown used to. A heavy exhale leaves your body with some sense of relief. But it’s still strange, and you have no idea where they are even taking you, or what the Republic expects of you. You squeeze your eyes shut irritated at the line of thinking you're dwelling on. You have to stop yourself and just focus on resting, you don’t know the next time you could have a bed as nice as this. You feel Lula in the bed and you’re tempted to pull it closer, but you leave it, it’s not yours. But you make sure she’s settled safe on your pillow and out of the way. Shifting in the blankets you don’t know how long it takes but you finally drift off again

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

A glorious idea has spawned in my brain

Hunter x Criminal!reader where they have a Batman/Catwoman relationship, however this time Omega meets the reader and absolutely adores her so the reader decides to stick around a bit (despite Hunter's protests). During this time, the reader and Omega form a mother/daughter and Hunter secretly loves it and falls for the reader everytime he sees her with Omega

Hello my lovely anon,

Thank you for such a fantastic request. I hope I did your request justice. The setting is Season 1 of Bad Batch, so hopefully you don't mind too much. I wrote with f!Criminal!reader, hope that's okay. Reader has a nickname.

Enjoy.

Also, since this isn't part of the Fic Roulette request, it'll be filed under the One Shots Master List. It's a little longer almost at 2400 words.

Love oo,

Not Ready

Warnings: Slight thieving, Omega in danger, dangling from a tower, banter, angst, fluff, shooting, dangerous driving, I think that's it. If I miss any please let me know.

Part Two

AO3 Link   |   OS & MS Master List |   Main Master List  

“Give it back, and we can just both walk away.”

You twirled the rather large knife in your hand, “Hmmm, no.”

Hunter clenched his fists, “I said, hand it over.”

“And I said no.” You smirked underneath your mask, the only thing visible on your face were your eyes. Eyes so full of cockiness, determination and experience. “I gotta ask though, why so long?” You chuckled, “Compensating for something?” You flipped it back and forth in your hand, twirling it around your palm and the back of your hand. “Has good weight.” You smirked as you arched your brow, “If you know what I mean.”

“I don’t have time for your nonsense!” Hunter looked behind, sensing the Imperial troopers closing in, he let out a sigh, and before you even realized what was happening he tried to stun you. 

Unfortunately, he missed thanks to your ability to sense when danger was imminent. Without even thinking your body back-handspringed away from the blue stun blast. “That was rude.”

“Listen, I need to get to my sister, and I don’t have time to mess around!” Hunter could hear Tech on his comms as he described Omega hanging from the tower. 

“Your sister’s in trouble?” All teasing and flirting died on your lips as soon as you heard that.

“Yes!”

You nodded and tossed the knife back to the chiseled red-bandana wearing man in front of you, “Let me help.”

“No. You’ve helped enough.” His tone full of annoyance and frustration. He grabbed the knife and took off running towards Omega, ignoring the pang of regret from his tone. It wasn’t your fault, you didn’t know he was running to help Omega. Yet, the frustration from having to waste even a minute on you was more than enough to make him worry about Omega’s safety and that’s all that mattered. 

His feet came to a sudden halt when you appeared in front of him with a speeder bike, “Hop on!”

“What?”

“Just … I feel bad, ok! Now shut up, and get on!”

He didn’t delay, jumping on the back of the speeder holding on to your waist tightly as you weaved through traffic.

“Where is she?” You shouted over the noise of the air rushing past your ears. 

Hunter didn’t respond and simply pointed to the person dangling from the tower, as another helmeted person neared her position. 

You sped up the speeder, you’d know Fennec’s helmet anywhere. You weaved and dodged against the oncoming traffic, almost as though you could see where and when the next vehicle was going to be turning or shifting. Your heart nearly dropped as you saw the tiny person slip, driving faster and more dangerous to catch her in time. 

Hunter reached out his hand and grabbed a hold of Omega’s in midair, tossing her onto his lap, pinning her between the two of you. “You okay, back there?” You shouted to make sure everyone was safe as you saw Fennec jump down and commandeer a vehicle of her own chasing after the three of you. 

“We’re fine. Get us out of here!” He shouted as he quickly checked over Omega to make sure she was uninjured and safe. He couldn’t see much from how she was clutching to his chest plate, but it didn’t seem like she was in pain either. 

“You got this?”

“What?” 

“I’m asking if you know how to drive a speeder?”

“Yeah! Why?” He didn’t clue in to what you were preparing to do until you flipped over him and landed on Fennec’s vehicle.

“Hey gorgeous!” You smirked as you looked at her.

“Ugh! Should’ve known you’d be here.” Fennec answered, rolling her eyes as she tried to keep her eyes on her target.

“Wasn’t supposed but I sort of owed him one. Back off.” You stood aiming your blaster into the hood.

“No can do, little Butterfly.”

Force you hated that nickname, somehow it had stuck among the bounty hunters and assassins, simply because you were quick and light on your feet. Dazzling them with your antics and before they even realized you slipped out of their sight, blending into the crowds more often than not. 

“Fennec, I like you, but you need to back off!”

“What’s in it for you?”

“Nothing.”

“I’ll split the reward with you, if you help me capture the little girl.”

You tried to stay balanced as Fennec tilted the vehicle side to side, “You disappoint me, going after a child.”

“Jobs a job, honey.”

You shook your head, “I warned you,” you shot your blaster into her engine, jumping off onto a nearby transport, watching as her engine began to sputter. She jumped to safety standing on the closest terrace she could find, as she watched you and her target move further away. You jumped down, finding your way back to the ground, hoping from one transport to the next. 

Once you touched solid ground, you looked back up to see Fennec turn and walk away. ‘Until next time, gorgeous.’ You mumbled as you headed back to the marketplace, before you even got five feet away, you felt your body jerk forward as tiny hands wrapped around your waist. You looked down to see the blonde girl, the rather striking man had rescued, his sister. 

“Uh… thanks, kid. I think…” you giggled as you pulled her arms away from you. 

“You saved me!” She beamed with a brilliant smile as she looked at you.

“I think your brother did that. I just drove.” You subtly shook your head, subtly moving away from the overwhelming bundle of joy.

“She has a point,” Hunter offered, “if you didn’t show up with a speeder when you did …” you could tell on his face he didn’t want to think about what might’ve happened.

“Listen, Fennec would’ve come up with something. She’s a bounty hunter, but she’s a fairly decent one. Anyway I’m glad you’re safe,” you patted the little girl’s head, “take care of yourself and your brother. Seems like he gets into trouble easily.” You turned to walk away when she gripped your fingers.

“Come with us.” She pleaded looking at you with big eyes that were asking for more than you were prepared to give, or have given to anyone since you could actually remember. It was nice to feel needed, but it was too much. 

Hunter wanted to grab Omega and pull her away from this woman who showed up, and was constantly surprising and making him feel uneasy at every turn. “Omega, we don’t know her circumstances. She’s probably already committed to something else, right?” Hunter narrowed his eyes on the helmeted woman in front of him, not wanting her to take the invitation Omega offered.

You’ve seen that look a thousand times before. It said everything that really mattered, you weren’t welcome, and he wanted you to leave as soon as possible. 

“Don’t worry,” you started keeping your eyes locked on the man standing behind Omega, “your brother is right, I’m … currently … occupied with other matters.” You smiled as you turned your attention to Omega, and kneeled before her, “Omega, right?”

She nodded, not letting your fingers go. 

You smiled and pulled out a collapsable vibroblade, “This is Vala,” you flicked your wrist and opened the vibroblade, “my father gave me this when I was about your age, he told me ‘this galaxy is full of good and bad people. Sometimes the good outweighs the bad, and sometimes there are too many bad, you won’t be able to find a good one. Vala, will always be there to protect you.’” You turned her hand palm-up and placed the vibroblade in her tiny hand. “It will protect you. Ask your brother to train you on how to use it. Never rely on someone else to save you, in this galaxy, sometimes the only person you can count on is yourself. Take care, Omega.” You ruffled her hair one more time, before standing up and walking away without looking back. 

It felt strangely comforting to be wanted, even if it was for a brief second. 

“Wait!” Hunter shouted, causing you to turn around, “We left your speeder that way” he pointed over his shoulder, you couldn’t help laughing.

“Don’t worry about it, handsome, it’s not mine.” You smiled and walked away.

Omega turned to Hunter, a saddened smile on her face, “Why couldn’t she come with us?”

“Omega,” Hunter kneeled, “we don’t know who she is. Whether she can even be trusted? It’s best if she goes her way and we meet up with Wrecker, Echo and Tech.”

“But…”

“Omega, I know you have a good heart, but you’re too trusting. It’s best if we keep a low profile and avoid entangling ourselves with people we don’t know. Come on, we gotta meet back up with the others.”

He guided her back to the hangar trying to avoid the Pantoran police force and the troopers that seemed to be searching for someone. 

Omega kept watching as one Pantoran guard held up a picture to a passerby, it was a picture of you. She pulled on Hunter’s sleeve and pointed to the Pantoran’s datapad. 

“They’re looking for her.”

“We should go…” Hunter tightened his grip on her hand, but she refused to move.

“We have to help her.”

“We don’t know why they’re looking for her. She could be a wanted criminal or a murderer, a thief.”

“Hunter, please. She saved me, it’s the least we can do.”

He looked at the picture and commed Wrecker, “Wrecker, where are you?”

“Just entering the marketplace right now, why?” 

“I need you to take Omega back to the ship, I …” he turned his head to look at Omega, “I have to repay someone who helped us get Omega back.”

Wrecker walked through the crowd faster than the others as people naturally moved out of his way, he stood in front of the both of them, tilting his head. “Who, you helping?”

“Don’t worry about it, just get Omega back to the ship and tell Tech we need to take off the minute I get back. Make sure Echo makes it back to the ship too. We may have to get out of here faster than expected.”

“Copy that” Wrecker picked up Omega and had her sitting on his shoulder as he headed back to the hangar with her. 

Hunter could hear the comm chatter between Wrecker, Tech and Echo. He let out a huff and shook his head, this was just asking for trouble. He ran back, heading the way you were walking. It wasn’t long before he found you sitting at a cafe sipping on something warm. 

“Came back to tell me you love me?” You teased him.

“Came back to tell you, you’re in danger.”

“Shocker.” You didn’t react or flinch, as you kept your eyes locked on the man’s eyes. 

“I need to know, are you a murderer?”

“No.”

“Do you have a bounty on your head with some crime boss or something?”

“No.”

“Then get up” he grabbed your arm and forced you to stand, grabbing your helmet as he pulled you along, running behind him. 

“Wait… hey!” You stopped in your tracks and pulled your arm out of his hold, “Who the hell do you think you are, pulling me like that? You know I have the right …” he put a hand over your mouth and pushed you into a darkened alley, hiding you with his body as a Pantoran patrol passed the two of you.

“They’re searching for you, and not just the police. The Imperial troopers are looking for you too.” He stepped away and handed you your helmet, “Listen, I don’t care what happens to you, but Omega was worried, and I’m not going to disappoint her. You’re warned. So you can either go back out there and try and avoid whatever trouble you got yourself into or…” he let out a sigh regretting the words that were about to come out of his mouth, “You can come with us and we can drop you off somewhere.”

“Us?”

“My brothers, Omega and myself.”

“Why are you helping?”

“Like I said, I don’t want to disappoint Omega. So what’s it going to be?”

You looked at him and then at the increased patrols you hadn’t realized were slowly filling up the streets, they all seemed to be looking for you. You closed your eyes and tapped your helmeted head against the wall, “Alright. I’ll trust you. Lead the way.”

He stepped closer to you, “I’m taking a chance on you, you put any of us in danger, and you and I are going to go another round, understood?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Fine. What do I call you anyway? Because I don’t think ‘stuck up jackass’ would work.”

“It’s Hunter, and what do I call you? Because I don’t think ‘crazy tooka’ works.”

You smirked as you looked at him, “You can just call me Butterfly. Hunter.”

“Fine. Now let’s go. Butterfly.”

“You know I’m not as bad as you think.”

“And hell is just a sauna, shut up and follow me.”

As much as you tried to fight the urge to smile, you couldn’t help but enjoy the banter you two had. You also couldn’t help but examine his physique as you followed behind him, moving around the crowd, ducking and avoiding capture until you made it to his ship. 

Omega ran to you and hugged you again, “I knew he’d find you, come on. Let me show you inside.” 

She gripped your hand and dragged you along. You weren’t looking for family, but … as you moved closer to the ship, there was a strange sense of belonging that came from meeting the rest of her brothers. For the first time in a long time, you felt at home. 

Hunter watched you and the way Omega gripped your hand, as you introduced yourself to Wrecker, Tech and Echo. He had to admit, you were attractive, when he saw you without your helmet, he almost felt his tongue getting all tied up. Not to mention, the outfit you wore also drew attention to your physique which didn’t help. He didn’t know why but he had a feeling this could either be a really horrible idea, or it would be a very pleasant surprise. 

Next

AO3 Link   |   OS & MS Master List |   Main Master List 

Tag list:

@liadamerondjarin @badbatch-simp24@spicymcnuggies@lady-ren @firstofficerwiggles @darkangel4121 @discofern @kavecika @monako-jinn-stories @ladykatakuri @avathebestx @theroguesully @furyhellfire66 @carodealmeida @ciramaris @sprout-fics @twinkofthedink @dindjarin-mandalorian @ulchabhangorm @tortor-mcgee @vodika-vibes @clonethirstingisreal

[meadow-of-daisies-and-lavender]

Chapter One --------- A Burning Meteor

Summary: The Bad Batch returns after over a year away from Kamino. But things are not the same with a noisy Bright Eyed girl.

A/N: This is my last and final attempt to update my story. I love this story but wanted to update it as I've grown as a writer. Thanks to @lizartgurl for feeding my brain worms and @saradika-graphics for the paragraph break images.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, language, and abuse.

“Where are we at with the drive stabilization?” Hunter barked, cursing as the wires he held sparked and died. It would be a miracle if they made it out of hyperspace, much less Kamino, with the severe damage done to his ship.

“Kriff!” Wrecker bellowed as the Marauder lurched. His skull smacked against the metal bar as Hunter worked with Tech and Crosshair to keep the ship in one piece.

Fueling lines ruptured to Hunter’s left, leaking a foul, acidic stench. Lights flickered on the control panel, and an alarm wailed behind him, a shrill reminder of his ship’s frail capabilities. Hunter wondered where he could jam his knife into the wiring to make it karking stop for five seconds.

“We are almost to Kamino,” Tech announced over the chaos. Hunter spared a glance to the combusted right flank which burned a bright yellow.

“Get us there faster!” Wrecker complained. Hunter took a deep breath and closed his eyes. An electrical coupling went out to his left, increasing the colors flashing behind his eyes. He tightened his bandana. He just needed to make it through the next five seconds—and then the next five seconds.

“Everyone, strap in. We’ll have to land in the water unless we can slow our momentum,” Hunter spoke before sliding into a free seat once his vod strapped in.

“I’m going to be sick!” Wrecker yelled as the Marauder bounced from turbulence. 

Hunter blinked slowly and began to count: One, two…

“Don’t you karking vomit on me again!” Crosshair yelled. Hunter took another deep breath and gritted his teeth. They were almost home.

Three, four…

“Breaking out of hyperspace in three… two… one…”

Hunter’s stomach flung into his neck. Clenching the seat in his hands, his molars ground together as the bile rose in his throat. Flames burst on the rear right flank as they broke the atmosphere, and the rain of Kamino did little to stop it.

Five. They were home.

“Bay 218 is cleared and ready for arrival. Please proceed.”

Two emergency ships flanked the Batch, extinguishing the flames. Hunter sighed as lightning illuminated the northeast landing bay through the sheets of rain. Tech seamlessly guided them through the small hangar doors with steady hands, his racing heart the only sign of distress—the vibrations biting at Hunter’s skin.

“Preparing for landing,” Crosshair spoke, flipping a switch. There was one final sweep and drop before the Marauder touched down, sparking against the metal floors as she slid across the flooring. Hunter added the landing gear to the growing repair list.

Clone Force 99 sat for a moment, taking a breath. They had done it. Three hundred rotations away from home and a few close calls, they finally were home for some well deserved rest and repair. Though Hunter doubted it would be very long before the Grand Army of the Republic decided they needed the Batch’s help again.

Wrecker slammed the safety bar up and rubbed where he had hit his head, “Great flying, Tech!”

“Thank you, but I—”

Crosshair shoved out of his seat, blocking Hunter’s view of Tech. Metallic blaster residue wafted with his quick passing of Hunter, toothpick tucked between his white teeth.

“Are we clear to get off?” Hunter interrupted, flipping switches to turn off the control panel. A deep ringing sounded as Crosshair slammed his steel-toed boot into the door.

"The Karking door is stuck!” Cross hissed, kicking it again with more force. The door bounced open, bobbing back and forth, refusing to open fully.

“Let me get it!” Wrecker laughed.

“No, don’t-” Before Crosshair could stop him, Wrecker took off, jumping on the door and using his shoulder to break it open. The steps clattered down, and Wrecker fell out of the Marauder, thunking onto the concrete floors. Crosshair stepped onto the steps and over Wrecker’s body, no doubt making a snide remark. 

Hunter shook his head, turning to Tech who already had his datapad out, “Good job flying, Tech. Come on.” Hunter gestured for his vod to exit first. 

“You might wish to know we have a new assigned social worker, by the way. S.W. Shem,” Tech typed as he strolled off the ship.

“We get reassigned every two months. Does this surprise you?” Hunter smirked, removing his helmet. He stood atop the steps, surveying the ashen scorch marks scarring their ship. They had their repair work cut out for them, but at least they had supplies on Kamino compared to the backwater planets they had come from. The hair on Hunter’s arms lifted, the weight of a gaze settling over his skin- someone was watching. Hunter swept the room, finding most personnel tuned to either the Marauder or their tasks.

“Why would I?” A soft voice floated from the wall where a pair of women sat on cargo crates. The woman with blue hair gestured to the Marauder, smirking.

“That’s the Sargent. He’s your type. Tall, dark, handsome; blunt to match, according to SW Poth’s notes.”

Hunter blinked. Never in his life had he been considered attractive, and he hadn’t particularly thought about it either. He looked like every other clone except for his skull tattoo and long hair. His eyes slid to the other SW in question, covering her face in her hands. Shaking her head, she slid off the crate and looked up to address the blue haired SW. Her glimmering eyes narrowed, reminding him of a loth cat, as she tugged at the side of her jumpsuit, pressing her lips together. Her jumpsuit showed off the curve of her hips and waist and the long line of her legs.

Hunter snapped his eyes back to her face, her pretty eyes sparkling in the lights…

“Are you kidding me? That’s completely unethical, Shem,” The pretty woman hissed, head darting as if worried about someone overhearing her. “I’m already one misstep away from losing my job. I can’t afford schoolgirl jokes that’ll cost everything else.”

Hunter narrowed his eyes, observing her determined steps to the door. She hesitated at the threshold, stopping. Turning around, her eyes scanned the room until they landed on the Marauder. The hanger, blessedly, became din in those seconds as they locked eyes, her lips parting in an inaudible exhale. Hunter licked his dry lips and nodded his head in acknowledgement. Something harsh glimmered behind her pretty eyes, determined and precise, before she turned on her heel, her nose tilted up.

“She’s pretty,” Crosshair teased, drawing Hunter’s gaze away from the closing doors. He rolled his eyes.

“Who’s she?” Wrecker questioned Tech. 

“Must be medical personnel or an SW. I do not know; however, I will find out.”

“Goodie. Hunter can finally get his-”

“Enough, Crosshair. Unload while I report to Cody,” Hunter hissed, gesturing for Tech to follow him to the debrief rooms.

Bright Eyes sat in her office with a stack of data pads, signing off on paperwork between cadet observations.  While her roommate Shem ran psychological evaluations for the 212th, Bright worked alongside a few other SWs to track the psychological development of cadets. Bright worked specifically with failing cadets as a last-ditch effort to prevent cadets from being decommissioned. A cost-saving measure for the Kaminoans. 

The office door opened and Shem strolled in with two cups of caff. Smiling, Bright Eyes accepted the caff as Shem made herself at home on the couch.

“I thought your office would be crawling with ankle biters,” Shem teased.

“Usually yes. But no cadets today. They have their lessons,” Bright Eyes bit back a yawn. “I thought you would be doing intake with your new special ops team?”

Shem narrowed her eyes, always too worried for Bright Eyes’ wellbeing, “Not yet. I had to cover some other psych files today. Did you know their case has been passed from caseworker to caseworker? Nobody wants them for more than the three-month requirement period.”

Bright Eyes smirked, raising an eyebrow at her roommate, “If I didn’t know better, it sounds like you’re baiting me to read their files. Something you should have read before they got planet-side, perhaps?”

“Oh come on! Troublesome troopers are your specialty! You would love reading their files,” Shem giggled. 

“Bantha shit!” Bright Eyes laughed. “So I can read them to do your work for you? Nice try. Read the damn files yourself!” Her laugh turned into a wince as she held her side just as Commander Cody and Rex strolled into her office.

“Where are all the cadets?” Cody teased, removing his bucket.

“Clearly hiding because they knew you were planet side,” Shem teased, moving over on the couch to make room for the men.

“Very funny. Don’t you have my men to hound with your tests?” Cody smirked, setting his bucket on the table. Bright Eyes yawned again as she set her data pad to the side to pick up a new one. “Why the yawning?”

“Just tired,” Bright Eyes brushed off, typing away.

“Just tired. Yeah right. Wanna tell them about the nightmares?” Shem prompted.

“Thanks for sharing on my behalf,” Bright Eyes sarcastically replied. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Ruussan, you were shot,” Rex injected, furrowing his brow. “By one of your cadets! That has never happened on Kamino.”

“It wasn’t his fault!” Bright Eyes shouted, standing from her seat, pressing a hand to her side. “It was mine. He was having a flashback with a startle response and I couldn’t help him deescalate. He is dead because of me.” 

“He is dead because the Kaminoans put him in decommissioning and found him defaulted,” Cody gently reminded. “You can’t save us all, Ruussan.”

“Not from the Kaminoans and not from ourselves,” Rex added, placing a hand on Bright’s shoulder. “Besides, what you two are doing with the Testimonial Project is above and beyond what anyone has done for us Clones. We need you both alive, Ruussan. One cadet for all of us Clones is a small price for freedom.”

[skellymom]

"Vagabonds" Chapter 13 "Precious Cargo"

Ongoing fanfic Hunter x Reader/Fem Reader/OC

Hunter meets a smuggler Nomaadi Star Woman with a powerful force sensitive teen who changes the trajectory of CF-99's lives...as they ALL try to escape from The Empire together.

ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ

To read Chapter 12:

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/747902380483526656/vagabonds-chapter-12?source=share

Word Count: 1.7K

Background: Hunter contemplates his relationship choices.

Mad comes clean about what EXACTLY transpired during her last job on Ord Mantell.

I was SUPPOSED to have this part of the series done by May. But, got serious writer's block. Sorry so late. THIS is the shoe that needed to drop plot-wise.

To help with any confusion: Mad's Clone trans sister (non bio) is named "SHE" (mentioned in Chapter #9 "In The Beginning") and her name is capitalized to prevent any confusion of what character is being spoken of.

Warning: Swearing, flirting, brief discussion of female reproduction/menopause.

(Credit: Cool moving star dividers by @4ngelic-wh1spers )

Recap:

Hunter laid on his bunk sifting through the events that transpired since he met Mad. 

The throbbing pain between his legs, burning scratch on his face...the deep bite mark that FINALLY stopped bleeding. 

His heart ached a bit too. Pain, love, lust, yearning, uncertainty...so much...felt like it would explode. 

Cid’s words bounced around his head...paining him that she was possibly RIGHT. It was the ONLY accurate intel Cid had ever given him. 

“Ya looking for a world of hurt, Bandana?  “Cause that’s all you’re gonna get with that one.” 

"Precious Cargo"

She wasn’t the first woman Hunter had...but the first that stayed around longer than a few days. That was a record for him... 

Not due to infidelity or any other reason. It was only due to the war. No time to date. Heck, no time for hobbies, other jobs...or A job. He was property. Owned and controlled. The trajectory of his life beyond his own control. Not just him, either. A planet’s worth of enslaved men posing as blaster fodder. 

He was just a clone. What did he know about women. Dating, sexual relations, or reproduction were NEVER taught on Kamino. It was expressly forbidden among the Kaminoan's...the Republic as well. Hunter was lucky enough with his looks, hair, body to be pursued by MANY women to have learned about these things. However, how their minds worked and long-term relationships...that was another thing altogether.  

But no matter how he doubted, there was still a feeling of euphoria and happiness like he had never felt before. These feelings happened around Mad only. She was brave, vibrant, resourceful, protective... These things excited him. 

Is this what love feels like? 

Well...no lie...some considerable lust in there too.  

I’m sure Mad would agree with me... 

Hunter inhaled sharply, then chuckled... 

Maker...What did I get myself into? 

Mad finally awoke from the darkness. She lay there feeling weak. A heaviness in her abdomen...again??? 

She glanced down to see Tiggy outstretched and laying over her abdomen. The puppy looked much larger than she remembered. Tig was starting to lose her puppy fat, and her limbs seemed longer. She stretched out and yawned. Her puppy tail wagging and whipping the blanket. 

Mad tried to move, but both arms were strapped to the bunk. One of which had an IV line and fluids. She was also hooked up to a urinary catheter. Mad could feel the line between her legs. 

How long have I been out??? 

A few days. Love’s hand caressed Mad’s head. She looked up at them, levitating near the front of the bunk. You had me worried. 

I’m awake now. You look good for someone who vaporized a Venator. 

Love smugly smiled, then the concerned expression came back. You look BETTER for a person who was unresponsive. 

Sil? Omega? Hunter? 

They’re fine.  

Why am I in restraints??? 

Love looked gravely at Mad 

Oh no... 

Yeah, the dreams came back. 

Was that it?  

Love seemed reluctant to say any more. They didn’t need to as Hunter quietly entered the room. 

“Mad?” He whispered 

She immediately noticed the large bandage at the crook of his neck and the deep scratches on his face. 

“Did I...do that?” she asked quietly. 

He nodded as he sat down on the bunk beside her. 

“Oh Hunter...” Mad was clearly feeling shame and embarrassment. 

“You were delirious at the time...” He started undoing the restraints while giving her a reassuring smile. “The Mad I know wasn’t in control.” 

“This hasn’t happened...for quite a few years.” 

Concern creased Hunter’s brow. He was silent...waiting for Mad to answer if she felt safe enough to.  

Tiggy wimpered quietly and snuggled up next to Hunter. He put his arm around her. 

“My ORIGINAL family were experimental subjects for the Kaminoan’s.” 

Hunter was horrified. He also vaguely remembered strange things happening to him as a very young clone, his brothers too...possibly Omega had as well. 

“What? I thought you’re Nomaadi??” 

“I am. And the Nomaadi are my family now...but I HAD a biological mother and father that were not of The Star People...” 

“Had?” 

“All that I remember about them is fuzzy. I was VERY young when Maami and Paapi Daal took me in. A clone squad smuggled me out of the facility...along with a young defective clone. It’s been a LONG time since I’ve acted out in a fugue state...” 

Hunter was shocked. He had NEVER heard of this. 

“Only saw clones on Kamino. We clones were the only test subjects in the laboratories.” 

The Kaminoan’s have more than one facility on several planets. Love interjected. 

Hunter shifted unexpectedly. He forgot Love was able to speak to him through the Force. He wondered if it had to do with his enhanced senses.  

Mad caught Hunter’s expression. “...you can hear Love through the Force, can’t you?” 

He nodded. 

“So can Omega. Other than Sil and Tiggy, nobody else can. It’s a Force Bond...it’s SUPPOSED to be rare.” 

“Wait...you escaped with ANOTHER defective clone???” Hunter shook his head. 

Auntie SHE! Best Auntie EVER...well, next to mom... Love smoothed Mad’s hair back lovingly. 

Love and Hunter gazed at each other and smiled. Tiggy wagged her tail exuberantly. 

“I have SO MANY questions...” Hunter’s mind going in a million directions. 

“We’re pleased to see you awake.” Tech entered bringing Wrecker, Echo, Sil, and Omega with him. Tiggy excitedly ran to the end of the bed and launched herself at Echo. 

“NO!” Echo ducked behind Wrecker. 

Wrecker caught the pup in midair and hugged her to him. “Echo’s still gun-shy. You’re a scary widdle puppy dog!”  

Tiggy then begged to see Omega. Wrecker handed the puppy to her. Tiggy licked Omega’s face into a sloppy mess. The sound of her laughter lightened Hunter’s mood considerably 

Hunter glanced back at Mad. “What exactly happened during that job on Ord Mantell?” 

Mad’s eyes widened. It didn’t occur to her until now. The dreams were also stirred up from her visiting Dr. Zebba and the violence afterward. Everyone in the room stared expectantly at Mad. 

She and this botched job had thrust everyone aboard into this current situation. 

Sil showed us what was in the cooler. And the shot he gave you. Love Force Spoke and signed in Basic. I thought you were supposed to bring back two people with some cargo? 

“The parameters of the job changed at the last minute.” Mad sighed. 

Everyone in the room glanced at each other. 

Hunter needed answers. “WHAT changed?” 

Mad inhaled deeply. “There were supposed to be a courier for the cargo and a clone bodyguard that I was to pick up and take with us on the Beldame. According to my contact, they ‘didn’t make it’” 

Wrecker couldn’t help himself, wringing his large hands. “Ohh...they’re probably dead.” 

Echo shushed Wrecker. 

“Ok?” Hunter probed. 

Mad had a captive audience. 

“So...a doctor paid me extra to carry the cargo.” 

“...Ok? Where is it? You came back with a cooler of...Tech, help me out.” 

Tech adjusted his goggles “You are currently in possession of a cooler filled with hormone stim syringes. Even with my intellect I fail to see any correlation to this being any type of valuable cargo.” 

“Oh...I have the cargo.” Mad calmly stated. 

“Well...where?” Echo couldn’t contain himself.  

“Inside me.” Then Mad started to weakly giggle. 

Tech perked up. Hunter could smell his brain burning...putting together the pieces. 

“Mad...out with it.” Hunter demanded. He was starting to worry again. 

Mad took another deep breath. “You know the Jedi had the best healthcare that any citizen in the galaxy could receive. Preventative care, health screenings, yearly blood tests and full body examinations. Of course, they were scanned for any disease. Sometimes biological samples are taken to test for ‘health' "reasons... 

...some of that tissue was preserved and saved. Especially reproductive material. SOMEONE somewhere realized that it might be best to not dispose of it...” 

Tech interjected. “Then Order 66 occurred, the Jedi Genocide, and the Kaminoan medical facilities were shut down...” 

Mad finished his sentence. “And I took a job to help smuggle some of the remaining Jedi reproductive material to a safe location. Away from the Empire to a place that will extract it and put it back into storage for possible future use.” 

Everyone was in shock. Except for Tech. He was EXTREMELY interested. 

“My educated guess is that you are carrying ovuum. And that is why that cooler contains hormone syringes. Without that hormone, your body would menstruate and eject the ovuum out of the body. But, in your case...with the recent stress and being of...a certain age...you have lost some of the ovuum already...” 

“Tech...a certain age? Really???” Hunter snapped back and turned around to see Omega’s reaction to the conversation. She was seriously engrossed. 

“Well" Tech pushed his goggles up the bridge of his nose. "Technically she IS past childbearing age and menopausal...” 

“WOAH!” Wrecker shouted, covering Omega’s ears. 

“TOO MUCH INFORMATION!” Echo followed. 

Mad, Love, and Sil laughed at them. 

Hunter spun back around to stare “WHAT???” 

Sil answered in a string of Nomaadi slang. He laughed along with Love and Mad. 

“They are making fun of us.” Tech interpreted and side-eyed his brothers. “Specifically, Echo and Wrecker.” Then shot Sil a look. “Called us Naif’s.” 

“Ah, you know some of our language, eh?" Sil smiled proudly.  

“What’s a Naif?” Wrecker asked. 

Love signed Newbie, naive...you act so silly about body stuff. 

“The Nomaadi learn very early about biology, sex, reproduction, and how our bodies work. Male, female, intersex, fluidsexual, all of our people speak freely about it with ease and no shame.” Mad explained. “Just like eating, sleeping, thinking, feeling...it’s just part of life.” 

“Kamino didn’t really prepare us. Combat was our specialty.” Hunter defended. 

“And yet YOU’RE pretty KNOWLEDGEABLE there Hunky.” Mad winked. 

Hunter flushed deep red. 

“And Tech over there is NO Naif!” Sil and Love erupted into laughter 

Omega looked up at Wrecker pulling his hands from her ears. “I CAN hear everything they’re saying.” 

Echo interrupted “Wait...THAT’S what all of those credits are from?”  

“Yes, with more upon delivery of the ovuum. We are going to be financially set for a while.” Mad nodded to Tech. “I have coordinates to where the extraction point is. I’m supposed to be there within 7 rotations.” 

“Less than that, you’ve been unconscious for over 2 rotations.” Tech corrected Mad “We need that intel to get you safely there.” 

“Wait!” Hunter was wary “How do we KNOW this place is safe? What about any medical risks?” 

“The Empire’s gotta be looking for ALL of us.” Echo added. “The Marauder as well as The Beldame was being targeted.” 

“Hunter, Echo and I can do some digging on our comm channels. However, before we do, I should remove both of your catheter’s.” Tech pointed toward Mad. 

“Everyone out.” Mad motioned with her hand.  

“WHAAT? Thought you were ok about ‘Body Stuff’” Wrecker sassed Mad. 

Echo shook his head, ushering Omega, Sil, and Love out of the room. 

“You REALLY wanna see Tech pull a urinary catheter out of my bladder, big boy?” Mad sassed back. 

Wrecker visibly shuddered. She got him. “Oof...no.” He left the room. 

Hunter grabbed Mad’s hand and squeezed.  

Would he and his siblings have been happier on Ord Mantell still running jobs for Cid?  

No. THIS is where WE need to be right now! 

It was an uncertain journey so far, but Hunter was willing to see it through. 

PLEASE like, comment, and/or REBLOG!

To read Chapter 14 "In Confidence"

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/757579231979077632/vagabonds-chapter-14-in-confidence?source=share

[lokigirlszendaya]

The Force Works in Mysterious (and Fabulous) Ways

Polyamorous Bad batch x OC

warnings: slow burn poly relationship

Chapter 1: Angel in Lip Gloss

The Marauder touched down on the landing pad with a low hum, dust swirling in the warm breeze of Naboo’s atmosphere. Clone Force 99 was not in the habit of expecting surprises—unless they were planning them. But today, the surprise had been handed down straight from the Jedi Council.

“A new commander?” Crosshair muttered, chewing on the toothpick in the corner of his mouth. “We don’t need babysitting.”

“Apparently, the Council thinks we do,” Tech replied, tapping through data on his datapad. “They’re sending us a Jedi. Effective immediately.”

Hunter’s brow furrowed as he stared toward the incoming transport ship. “We don’t work well with strangers. Especially ones who think we need hand-holding.”

“I dunno,” Wrecker said, stretching his arms behind his head. “Could be fun. Maybe she’s one of those cool ones with the double-bladed sabers.”

“Or maybe,” Crosshair said flatly, “she gets us all killed.”

The transport ramp hissed open.

And out stepped… her.

She wasn’t what any of them expected. Clad in a flowing, pastel version of Jedi robes (were those rhinestones on the hem?), the woman descending the ramp looked like she’d wandered out of a holo-drama about space princesses and glittery makeovers. Her violet hair flowed in soft waves, catching the sunlight in a way that made it shimmer like starlight. Her features were delicate and impossibly elegant—high cheekbones, a small pert nose, and pointed ears that gave her an almost ethereal, Elven appearance.

“Hello, boys!” she called in a singsong voice, giving them a wide, glossy-lipped smile and a wave that made her long sleeves billow. “I’m Master Talia Auren. But you can call me Tally.”

Crosshair spat out his toothpick. “You’re joking.”

Hunter blinked once. Twice. Then again, slower. “You’re… the Jedi?”

She beamed. “Mmhmm! The Council said you were all very special, and I just love working with special boys.”

Wrecker looked completely mesmerized. “She’s like a fairy.”

“I’m not a fairy, silly,” Talia said with a giggle, touching her lightsaber hilt, which had little lavender crystals woven into the grip. “I’m a Jedi Master. Totally serious. Promise.”

Tech opened his mouth to say something—likely “statistically improbable” or “violation of Jedi dress code”—but nothing came out.

⸻

They got their first taste of her “skills” within the hour.

A distress call from a Republic outpost nearby had them rushing into action. Separatist droids had overrun the perimeter. The Batch took cover behind a ruined speeder, blasters at the ready.

Talia, meanwhile, stood in the middle of the battlefield, twirling a strand of hair around her finger as if waiting for a fashion show to start.

Blaster fire erupted. Talia squealed—not in fear, but delight—and ducked just as a bolt zipped past where her head had been. She straightened with a grin, turning to glance at her reflection in a scorched droid chassis.

“Oh Force, my bangs,” she said. “Hunter, do you think I should part them in the middle? Or does that say ‘trying too hard’?”

“You’re in a firefight!” he shouted, dropping a droid with one clean shot.

She gave him a pout, then lazily flicked her fingers. A series of crates lifted from behind the droids and slammed into them like a game of smashball, knocking out half the enemy forces in a single swoop.

Wrecker whooped. “Did you see that?!”

“She didn’t even look where she was aiming,” Tech mumbled, stunned.

Talia turned, radiant. “Oh, I don’t aim. I just… vibe.” Her saber ignited with a flash of pastel violet. “Let’s go, babes!”

Hunter gave a slow exhale. “This is either going to be a disaster… or the weirdest success of our careers.”

Crosshair scowled from his perch. “I still vote disaster.”

But as the battle raged on, one thing became clear: wherever she went, things just worked out. Blaster bolts missed her by inches. Droids tripped into their own mines. Tech found encrypted doors already unlocked. She laughed through it all, never panicked, never hurt, and somehow leaving a wake of destruction she barely seemed to notice.

Luck? The Force? Divine chaos?

Whatever it was… she was now their Jedi.

[staycalmandhugaclone]

Fool's Errand Pt 14

Part (14) of Fool's Errand, the next arc of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!

For those who didn't read that Bane fic, I've been feral about FINISHING THIS DAMN ARC. So, apologies: I owe loads to responses, and I'm so, sooo grateful for everyone's kind comments! But it's done!! Finally! Now, I get to catch up on some fics I'm super excited to finally read, and will actually take some time to say hi to everyone 😅

Warnings: Reference to mortal danger, more brotherly teasing, angst, horrors of war, ableism toward a child, sexism if yuh squint, reference to medical procedures

WC: 9,027 (...oops)

Mandoa Translation: osik buurenaar   -   shit storm

I’d yet to meet the Alpha-class clones, but tales of their ferocity and intellect were legendary, as was their brute strength. I wondered if they stood taller than other clones, if a divide lay between them and their brothers because of differences neither could control. How would they measure against the unique men of this squad? Would they find themselves celebrating each other for what power stemmed from those differences? Or would that divide become even more pronounced amidst “defects” and “abnormalities”?

When I thought of the Alpha-class, I couldn’t help but picture some slight variance of Wrecker. Maybe they wouldn’t share that innate warmth and joy so pronounced in his mismatched eyes, but I couldn’t picture them without that stature so many immediately feared, without the shocking mass of muscle that gave his every movement a sense of command that was so readily abandoned beneath the ease with which he smiled and laughed.

Even if they shared some facet of his physique, there was a gentleness about the lounging man sprawled out atop his bed that I couldn't imagine mirrored in anyone else.

I looked at his hands, at the thick calluses and scars earned from a lifetime of danger and pain, and yet, when he touched me… I thought of those days when Tech writhed at the mercy of that wretched withdrawal, how tentative Wrecker's movements had been as he dragged his thumbs so carefully down my palm as though I might break at the slightest misstep. I thought of how small my hands looked beside his; how small I looked beside him, and I marveled anew at that gentleness. He could be a monster. He could use his strength and size to bully other's and instill fear. But, instead, he lowered his voice in the presence of a frightened child. He laughed when his brothers needed a moment of levity, and he touched me with only the softest of caresses. No. I couldn't imagine the alphas as sharing that gentleness. Even if there were some similarities in the breadth of their shoulders, there was a strength to Wrecker that few understood, and even fewer had the means of sharing in.

Bickering gradually shifted to boasting as Wrecker recanted the destruction wrought upon the Separatist transfer station after I'd had to leave, again surprising me with the revelation that nearly half of the hanger caved in from what I only then realized were strategic placements of bombs to target load bearing struts. That's why we’d been able to escape the planet with relative ease.

“You used over a dozen explosives to bring down half of a hanger.” Crosshair sneered. “I took out their secondary power transformer with one shot.” I rolled my eyes, my own attention tuned to the inflamed limb beneath my hands, watching for tension or flinching as I slid my palm firmly along tendon and muscle to gradually draw away the swelling.

“Hey, your target was meant to be a target! They were countin’ on it getting’ blown!” Wrecker argued proudly, but the way Crosshair's body suddenly tensed left us both hesitating.

“Clearly.” Silence followed the hushed growl, taunting what flicker of reprieve that moment of brotherly teasing had briefly allowed. Wrecker's expression twisted with every ounce of guilt and regret I could feel churning in my own gut, the slight misstep treading just close enough to remind all of us of the very horror I’d hoped we might help Crosshair forget, even if only for those precious few minutes.

Without warning, I stood, snatched the pillow from Tech's bed, and chucked it at the broody sniper, instantly earning something torn between a gasp and a shout as he shot up, clawing at the thin cushion, lips wrenched into a seething snarl. Wrecker was stunned for just a handful of seconds before letting out a barked laugh.

“Every single one of you only barely walked away from this Force-forsaken mission, but you did walk away.” My voice went quiet; firm. “Your eyes… Wrecker’s knee… Tech’s arm…” I didn’t mention Hunter… There was still too much anxiety surrounding his injuries… And I knew I didn’t need to speak his name for both of the men around me to wilt beneath the fear of how close we’d all come to losing him. Not even Echo managed to escape unscathed.

“Even by our standards, this mission was an osik buurenaar from the start, but I'm going to make damn sure you all heal up just fine.” Wrecker let out a quiet, humorless huff of agreement, gaze falling to absently watch the leisurely movements of my hands working over the swollen tissue surrounding his knee once more.

The rage faded almost reluctantly from Crosshair's face, pillow still held before him though now free of the way his fingers once dug into the miniscule padding.

“‘Buur-re-naar.’” He muttered after a moment, and I glanced toward the suddenly resigned man with a flare of confusion, a quiet, “what?” escaping before I’d registered what he’d said.

“‘Buur-re-naar.’” He repeated, more clearly emphasizing the flow of each syllable. “If you’re going to go around playing combat medic, at least get the damn swear words right.”

“Play?” I nearly snarled. Whatever taste of fire the word was meant to have, however, vanished beneath the laughter I couldn't quite silence, but Crosshair responded only by shoving Tech's pillow atop his own and making a show of lying back down.

“Ah, we used to say it the same way.” Wrecker dismissed with a lazy brush of his hand. “Prob’ly still would if Echo hadn't gone off on the lot of us anytime we said somethin’ wrong.” He added with a roll of his eyes, but there was such an obvious affection in the subtle upturn of his lips, it proved infectious, and I quickly found myself smiling softly as well.

“I suppose if I heard someone say ‘kraff' instead of ‘kriff', I wouldn't be able to take them seriously, either…” I muttered with a small huff.

There was still a heaviness weighing down the air in the bunk room, but it wasn't quite so tainted with that almost frenzied panic, and I vaguely realized that Crosshair wasn't shaking anymore, at least not enough for the metal frame of his cot to betray. His shoulders were still set beneath a lingering dread that sent a deep ache twisting through my chest, but his breathing was far more even.

I caught Wrecker's gaze returning to the raised bed endlessly, his own worry painting a subtle crease between his brows that lingered until his own breathing finally began to slow, body gradually sinking deeper into the thin mattress beneath him as the careful dance of my hands drew the tension from first his injured leg, and then the other purely for the glee of what pleasure that touch brought him.

“Started taking bets on him passing out like that.” Cross said dryly as Wrecker's snores echoed quietly around us.

“What? On if he falls asleep during a massage?” I tried to keep my relief secret at the simple evenness of his voice.

“Not ‘if'. We bet on how long he lasts.” I let out a small snort before reaching across the massive clone to slip his blanket over him.

“Most of you guys fall asleep at some point during them.” I retorted as I slowly pushed myself to my feet, arms raising to stretch over my head with a small grunt, and I relished the little rush of affection at his muttered growl of objection.

“What are my chances of convincing you to eat something?” I asked after a moment of silence. No… not quiet silence. The air cyclers hummed softly beneath the distant thrum of the engine in a gentle song that so easily faded into the background, but there was a comfort in it, in the promise it represented as we fled through the dim of hyperspace.

“Low.” He grumbled almost petulantly, drawing a snort from me.

“Too bad.” There was a subtle threat in the gentleness of my reply despite the warmth woven through the words, and something between a growl and a groan voiced his obvious disdain. I'd only barely begun to move when his hand suddenly whispered over my shoulder, freezing me in place. He remained pointedly turned away from me, and my heart broke upon noting the faint tremor still seizing through those nimble fingers. It was subtle but undeniably there.

I instantly reached up to cradle his hand between mine, touch delicate even as I shifted to press my lips firmly to his knuckles.

“Do you want me to stay?” I barely breathed the words against that callused skin, against the scars from too many injuries to remember as my thumbs trailed the ridges of tendons stretching toward his wrist. He hesitated, and I could see how tightly his jaw ground shut, but then he gave a tiny nod. I needed no further encouragement, hold tightening briefly before releasing him to climb the narrow ladder, movements careful as I crawled into the too small bed beside him.

He didn't fight the way I settled against him, arms looping around his head to let my fingers trail through messy, silver curls long since left in perfect disarray from too many hours trapped in bed. He merely let me hold him for a long moment, body stiff, but then he shifted into me, face hiding against my chest as his arm slipped around my back, clawing at the skin-tight fabric of my undershirt, and I knew this was something we’d never speak of later, that his pride would never have let him cling to me like this absent a need too great for words to ever begin to portray.

“After the war ends, I'm going to buy us a real bed.” There was a new kind of quite softening hushed promises whispered through the curls twirling between my fingers. “Something big… maybe a round one.” He said nothing; made no show of tilting his head in an eye roll I couldn't see nor scoffed with some mocking dismissal, but I knew he was listening. “Put it right in the middle of a room with lots of windows - keep you from sleeping in until noon.” That, at least, earned a small groan that left me chuckling softly against him.

“Maybe I’ll sneak out before you wake up,” I continued, lips just brushing against him, “surprise you with a cup of caf.” His hand slowly crept up my spine, head shifting ever so slightly toward me, and I was all too eager to answer in kind, heart leaping at the taste of him as though I hadn’t kissed him a hundred times before, as though I didn’t know every divot of his body as intimately as I knew my own. It was intoxicating, the ease with which I lost myself in him. It didn’t matter how chaste the caress of his lips was; how gently they pressed against mine with words he couldn’t bring himself to speak aloud, still, it left me breathless as he quietly pulled away.

“I’m sorry.” My arms tightened around him before that accursed apology faded, chest swelling with a carefully slowed, deep breath.

“I know.” I whispered back, cheek shifting delicately against him. “I know.”

I hadn’t meant to stay with him. I’d meant only to grant him a moment of reprieve from the terrors he wouldn’t be free of until those bandages finally came off, but the way he held me, the hesitation in how slowly that tension finally began to ease from his lithe form, the rare display of unconditional trust revealed only as consequence of forced vulnerability… how could I walk away from that?

Only after my arm had long since lost all feeling and the Marauder’s light faded with the automated façade of a night cycle did I began easing myself free of him. He barely shifted, the gentle ebb and flow of sleep still mediating unrushed breath as I slipped down onto the empty frame of Hunter’s bed.

No one had passed through the bunkroom in those few, precious hours I shamelessly squandered toying with silver curls and tracing senseless shapes atop now laxed muscles. I wasn’t surprised that Tech was surely still nestled in the worn pilot’s chair, but Echo’s absence left me growing even more anxious.

Footsteps carefully softened, I started silently toward the aft of the ship, but the rear cargo room was empty, and only Hunter lay within the medbay. I nearly walked away, intent on scouring the entirety of the damn ship to find the impossibly illusive arc trooper but found myself pausing at the offensive disarray of the room before me. Empty wrappers circled the misaligned cots like spent confetti, and the empty saline bag still hung over the mattress Crosshair had fled, crumpled blankets a testimony to his frenzied movements.

A few minutes… I could spare a few minutes to reclaim some semblance of order from the horrid chaos still so evident in abandoned vials of spent medication and crudely discarded syringes, and if I stole a couple seconds in between to merely watch the steady dance of that tiny line across the screen of the cardiac monitor, to slip my fingers against bronze skin and simply feel the heat of him, to count the lazy beat of his pulse and study the way his chest rose and fell with breath that I could still taste on my lips as I’d forced air into his lungs; if those brief, stolen moments saw me holding my own breath lest it tremble as I fought back regrets and what-if’s and if-only’s, then that was a delay easily dismissed beneath the weight of a relief I’d never grow weary of cherishing.

How many times had I done this? Lost hours in the meditation of cleaning and organizing and recording an inventory destined to prove inaccurate as supplies mysteriously vanished in the days to come? My bed now lay atop its frame once more. The trash was gone and the floors scrubbed clean of stains. I heard the clatter of my datapad hitting the counter before understanding why my grip had suddenly failed me, eyes wide even as I found myself frozen, some haunting doubt yet forbidding me from turning around, from glimpsing the source of that tiny sound. It was barely more than a huff, breath hitching in the echo of a pain transcending the residuals of sleep. But it was there.

Only when that faltered gasp just hinted at a groan did I finally turn to face him. Tension coiled through his jaw, brows twitching absent the strength to truly furrow above weakly pinched eyes, strained inhales bucking as broken ribs rebelled from the abuse, and, in an instant, I was at his side, knees aching from how harshly I dropped to the ground beside his cot, hands hovering uselessly above him as years of medical training abandoned me.

“Hunter?” His name left in a barely audible gasp, but it was enough. His lashes fluttered, some fleeting sound just catching in his throat. “Hunter! Hey-hey-hey, easy; you’re alright.” I don’t know what comfort he could find in the rapidly whispered words as I fought against a rushed flurry of too many emotions to begin to quell, but his head shifted toward me nonetheless, and when his eyes opened, when I saw the subtle hints of green woven through umber and gold, when I knew, free of that crippling uncertainty, that he saw me… that he knew me, I couldn’t help but sob, hands sliding so carefully about his cheeks as I leaned down to just touch my forehead to his.

“H… Hu-… d-dammit…” I couldn’t force my voice steady enough even to breathe his name, entire body suddenly trembling with the apex of a fear I’d barely allowed myself to acknowledge until faced with the blessed proof that it was baseless. He made no attempt to push me away, eyes open just enough to meet mine as I trembled against him, and when his hand managed to slide about my elbow, grip weak but undeniably there, I found myself sobbing even harder, shoulders bunching about my chest in some futile attempt to regain a control that was too eager to cave just as I so nearly managed to force myself to calm.

“Y… you can’t d-do that to me again.” I ordered, shameless of how hopelessly my voice broke, thumbs sweeping across still bruised skin with a tenderness that should have brought a flush to my cheeks. I wanted to ask what litany of thoughts danced behind those eyes; wanted to hear him recant the impossible breadth of incalculable possibilities he seemed to consider even now before allowing himself to respond, but something about the softness of his expression as I pulled away to better see him, the gentleness of his gaze as his head shifted in a tiny nod left me staggering far too much to even remember how to speak. Only when another too-deep inhale left him flinching in pain, did I finally remember myself.

“Don’t… don’t try to move, yet.” I ordered, chest bucking with a quiet sniffle as I turned sharply away from him, hands reluctantly abandoning his warmth to snatch at nearly supplies. “I didn’t think you’d wake up so soon, but this will kick in quickly.” He watched idly as I flooded his IV with pain meds.

“M… ch… ch’st…” I grimaced at the barely audible attempt at speech.

“Broken ribs.” I explained. I wasn’t surprised at how quickly his confusion shifted to something quiet, haunted, and I knew I didn’t have to explain further.

“We’re about a day out from the Vigilance.” I murmured. “Everyone’s on board – they even got the Senator out.” His eyes still held a darkness I knew only time might ease, but he gave another nod in response, this one quick; distracted.

When I found myself reaching for his hand, I couldn’t say if it was for my own comfort or for his, but neither could I deny the thrill in feeling how readily his fingers slipped between mine. It took only a moment longer for that clarity to fade, taking with it the tension and pain coiling through still exhausted muscles.

There were still too many uncertainties surrounding his condition to truly relax… I could still only guess towards how long he’d been down before I found him… how long he’d been dead. Five minutes… that all it took for a normal human to suffer brain damage. Hunter wasn't a normal human… but it felt like so much longer than five minutes had passed between the moment his comms went silent and when his heart finally began to beat again…

“I’m so sorry.” I whispered, pulling his knuckles up to brush lightly to my lips. “Maker, I’m… I’m so sorry…”

“Shh…” I didn’t think he was still awake, but his hand shifted to slip softly against my cheek, eyes glancing only briefly toward me before falling shut once more. “D’dn’t… do an… ‘nythin’ wr’ng…” He mumbled, lips barely shifting around words that sounded almost more akin to a soft growl than true speech as drugs and exhaustion left his already smoky voice an even deeper rumble.

“You were only there because of me…” I wasn’t sobbing anymore, but there was no hiding the depth of sorrow threatening to bring a fresh wave of tears sliding down my cheeks. “If you’d… I… I thought I lost you…” I barely breathed that devastating truth, fingers sliding delicately up his arm as though there was still some danger of him slipping away from something so simple as a rough touch. His thumb trailed along the ridge of my cheek, the movement faltering, stuttering, as though he kept forgetting he was doing it, but it was all the softer for it.

“M… ‘m here…” He murmured, face so perfectly laxed that it seemed only seconds before sleep might reclaim him, and there was something frightfully beautiful about that; that foreign calm softening his features; how young he looked absent the constant furrow between his brows from the crippling weight of leading his brothers through dangers far greater than any should be forced to suffer through. Like this, that faded tattoo looked almost comical against a youth that was so easily overlooked beneath the veneer of war-hardened soldier, and I couldn’t ignore how my heart jumped at the sight even as his touch finally stilled.

It was selfish… stupid… but I didn’t want him to sleep yet… I wanted to hear him whisper to me in that sleep-draggled voice; I wanted him to promise me that he’d be okay – that we’d be okay…

“… Hunter?” His name slipped from my lips before logic could force it back, and I found myself holding my breath as I awaited some response. My chest bucked with a jilted exhale when none came, jaw tensing against an entirely different taste of regret even as I strained to grasp the relief of being spared whatever senseless thoughts had led me to call out to him with that almost shy whisper.

Heart still racing, I carefully set his arm down before thoughtlessly reaching across him to resettle the blanket over his still bare chest as though it might ease the image of what dark bruises marred bronze skin from a memory too eager to forget those wounds in favor of gentler times; when he lay atop my bed for reasons veiled in therapeutic touch, and I didn’t find myself second-guessing our every interaction beneath a shame and guilt that had nothing to do with my profession.

I couldn’t bring myself to even attempt to rest. Not when he slept so peacefully barely a meter away; not when Crosshair lay curled atop his own bed in the neighboring room suffering beneath injuries threatening his very identity. I needed to calm down; to breathe; to quiet those raging emotions lit anew beneath the terror of losing him and the blistering relief following in the wake of seeing his chest rise, of hearing his voice and feeling his touch and knowing it would never be enough.

-

We didn’t have sonics on Agamar. There was no reason for them. Water was plentiful and clean, and there was no substitute for the numbing pleasure of feeling it wash the tension and dirt and anxiety away. Only luxury vessels could afford to waste the extra weight and space needed for such extravagances, however, and the pulsing pressure callously beating the grime from my skin offered none of the gentle clarity I’d hoped for upon hiding myself away in the utilitarian fresher. At least I was clean…

The Senator had nestled himself among a handful of spare blankets with Areeya in the cabin, and neither stirred as I made my way toward the narrow ladder dropping down into the cockpit. Tech wasn’t studying his datapad, nor was he tinkering with some half-built weapon or tool or “upgrade” to the Marauder. He was merely watching the infinite trails of stars shooting past us at speeds I couldn’t begin to comprehend.

I didn’t sit down in the empty co-pilot chair, instead granting whatever unspoken excuse or forgiveness or feigned ignorance I needed to lower myself to the ground beside him, back pressing against the uncomfortable ridge of dented durasteel framing his seat as my head tilted just enough to rest against the side of his thigh. From the corner of my vision, I saw how quickly his attention shifted, wide eyes studying me with a confusion I should have felt guilty for causing.

“Are you… alright?” He asked hesitantly, hands torn between releasing their hold on the controls and grasping them even tighter.

“Hunter woke up.” It wasn’t an answer, but those few words held far more value and interest than any false platitudes I might offer, and Tech instantly responded with a flurry of relief and hope and then dread as that silence lingered. “I think he’s okay.” I added far too belatedly, earning a sharp breath from the brilliant pilot. “It was just for a minute… Painkillers knocked him back out pretty fast.”

“But he seemed… coherent?” Tech pressed, hesitant to allow himself to cede the fears lingering in the unknowns.

“There wasn’t time to really assess him, but… he was aware.” I explained, knowing such a meager reassurance would offer just as meager a balm to the what-if’s still hovering over us.

“I think Echo’s avoiding me again.” I continued with a heavy sigh.

“I do not believe so.” He responded after a brief pause. “We were just discussing the redesign of his upgraded prosthetics. He’s been working on them in the gunner’s nest during flights.” Surprise and understanding rushed through me, gaze turning back toward the ladder as though there were some chance I could see him from here.

“Huh… that’s… that’s good.” I murmured, and I couldn't say with any certainty if the relief in my voice outweighed the disappointment. Logically, I knew there was likely little I could honestly contribute in light of the incredible breadth of knowledge shared between Tech and Echo, but a part of me had hoped he might still find a reason to seek me out, if only for some fabricated uncertainty regarding nervous system integration or proper fitting of the socket, or just to share in the progress they'd made… but there was still too great of a divide between us… too much confusion toward where we stood with each other… too many blameless apologies neither would accept. And the non-stop sprint from one mission to the next offered little chance of privacy in which we might talk it through…

“When is this going to end…”  I think I hated myself for letting those words escape, for letting him hear the weight in them, the threat of a hopelessness we couldn't afford to feel lest it rob us of the will to keep fighting.

“I presume you're not referring to our rendezvous with General Kenobi's flagship.” It wasn't a question, and I didn't need to voice the answer screaming in the pregnant silence that followed as eyes barely open beneath the remorse and weariness that had forced me to purge that wretched plea from myself to begin with rose just enough to see a heartbreaking glimmer of concern staring down at me through topaz lens.

“Traditionally, enlisted servicemembers are deployed for no more than one point five cycles between mandatory leaves… Medical emergencies aside, you haven't taken-"

“Don't.” I interrupted quietly, begging him to rid even his thoughts of what he was implying. “You… your brothers… This is it, for me.” I let my head shake almost lazily against his leg, dismissing the very notion of changing that. “I don't have anything else… I don't want anything else.”

“I'm… not sure that level of dependency would be considered healthy.” My face instantly pinched in offense before noting the teasing glint just toying with the edges of his lips enough to draw faint creases along the corners of his eyes.

“I know your sleep schedule, Tech… You really don't want to talk to me about unhealthy dependencies.” I shot back, challenge clear even through the grin lighting my words, but his smirk only grew.

“Clones were designed to have far superior tolerance to both physical and mental deficiencies.” He didn't brag with that haughty lilt intent on belittling others, nor was it quite accurate to call it pride as he recanted that sales pitch I so loathed every time I heard it in the almost musical cadence of the Kaminoans, but there was an air of confidence driving his boast that was so hard to argue with… still…

“Don't give me that ‘superior genetics' osik! Tolerance doesn't make you immune to going days on end without sleep.” I retorted with a scowl ruined by the smile I couldn't fight from my lips. “Especially now with your arm practically hanging off…” His lips bunched, gaze dropping to the thick bandages about his still immobilized arm with an impatient exhale that sent a sharp flare of guilt through my chest.

Head pressing just a touch harder against him, I raised my hand to lightly brush against his elbow, the touch aimless beyond the compelling urge to offer some reassurance amidst a silent apology.

“The war…” he didn't look at me as he spoke, the elegance of his voice lowering into something just shy of a whisper, “An ending of some manner is inevitable, of course… and though it is impossible to say with total certainty, statistically speaking, the Republic appears to have a far greater likelihood of victory.” There was something teeming beneath words not necessarily meant to offer comfort so much as to state simple fact, something dark and forbidden but too dreadful to ignore. “Unlike the Republic, the Separatists forces are dependent on very few, individual leaders, namely General Grievous and Count Dooku, both of whom often participate directly in armed combat despite the obvious shortcomings of such a strategy given how vital their lives are to the war effort.” I could hear him tapping softly against his other thigh, alternating between his ring and middle fingers with an almost frenzied pace.

“Tech?” I barely breathed his name, a gentle, worried question sown into my voice that quickly drew his eyes back to mine for just a moment before returning pointedly toward the viewport. He wasn't tapping anymore; the muscles atop his jaw bound tight as he thought over what he might say next.

“You speak of the war ending as though it will solve more problems than it will create… but for us… for clones… We have no place in this galaxy beyond the battlefield.” I couldn't breathe as he finally purged that horrid truth, watching aghast as his lips drew into a thin line even as they shifted for a moment longer in silence before continuing. “There are more than twenty million clones currently serving in the Grand Army, in addition to those still in training on Kamino.” He spoke slower, now, allowing the brief moments of quiet to scream everything he wasn't supposed to say, everything he wasn't supposed to think.

“I fear it would be naïve to assume a government reluctant to provide adequate funds for even basic supplies during active war to willingly support the clones once that war is won.” There. There was the heart of that darkness. It wasn't rare to hear him speak with disinterest or even disdain toward matters he believed to be obvious or simply irrelevant, but this went far beyond that. Poison seethed beneath a flurry of repressed emotions: rage, frustration, hopelessness, sorrow, fear… He was suffocating beneath it, body nearly vibrating despite the icy calm in eyes still studying the star trails gleaming through the duraglass.

“Hey.” The gentle murmur left on a slow breath. My arm draped tentatively over his lap, knees curling beneath me as I turned to face him, to reach for him with an almost desperate need to offer some glimmer of comfort or, if none could be found, to join him in that darkness if only so he wouldn't be alone in it. “I don't know what's going to happen,” I answered, voice only just loud enough to twirl through the air between us before fading absent the faintest echo to prove they’d ever existed as my fingers trailed softly up his cheeks, “and I wouldn't know where to begin with fixing any of that… but I meant what I said.” The depth of the promise burning through my words finally managed to draw his gaze back to me, and I held him even more gently for it. “This is it for me… whatever happens… I'm with you.” He was silent for a moment longer, but I watched as that fury slowly quieted, and I didn't know if I wanted to sob or scream or rage at its loss.

“There is high probability that peace may see us all homeless.” What sharpness that warning was meant to have dulled beneath the tentative hope that only grew as I offered him a weary smile.

“I've been homeless since Wolffe blew up my ship.” I answered with a shrug, and my heart leapt at the tiny huff of laughter it drew from him.

“Manual labor is also a possibility.” He pressed, almost teasing me.

“Are you really going to question my brute strength again?” I shot back, unable to stifle my own laughter at the blush dancing up his neck that he couldn't hide regardless how quickly he turned back to the viewport.

“You’re a medic.” That flare of lightness faded, his voice going quiet once more. “You would have ample opportunities for employment outside the GAR.” My touch shifted purposefully back down his jaw, willing his gaze to return to me.

“And you're a genius.” I replied, a tenderness to my voice that I could only hope might reach him. “In all the time you've known me, have I ever given you reason to doubt me?” He stared at me in silence for a long moment before answering.

“No.” My smile only grew, aimlessly tracing the lower ridge of his goggles with my thumb as though there was some hope of sweeping away the line I knew they'd leave in his softly tanned skin.

“I said I was staying until you told me to leave… might put up a fight even if you tried.” I added, nose scrunching beneath a coy sneer. His lips started to pull into a grin but paused, stifled by a sadness I wasn’t expecting and didn't know how to begin to address.

“Hunter and I already planned it out, you know.” I whispered it, as though revealing some secret conspiracy, head tilting to rest against his thigh once more as I looked up at him. “We’re going to become explorers. All six of us.” The skeptical frown that overtook his slender face was a far more welcomed sight than that sadness was, and I didn't hesitate in sharing the joy it brought me, my own lips stretching wide as I beamed at him.

“We’ll settle foreign worlds… discover knew lifeforms… establish relations with never-before-seen sentients… again.” Despite himself, that little smirk again played with lips bunching in a vain attempt to hide the subtle interplay of pride and excitement at the memory of being the first to manage communication with those nearly subterranean, insect-like inhabitants that had so nearly killed me with their poison arrows, the wealth of discoveries he got to make and record and share with the galaxy because he was able to learn their language in a matter of hours, and I couldn't help but echo that excitement.

“As alluring as that plan might sound, being “explorers" is unlikely to provide the credits needed for such a lifestyle.” He reminded unapologetically, a very real concern that I was perfectly happy to ignore.

“So, I'll freelance here and there.” I replied lightly before adding, “‘Ample opportunities for employment outside the GAR.’ Right?” He rolled his eyes but didn't argue. He didn't need to. We both knew it was an impossible dream… but that's what dreams are for: granting a glimpse of better times and better places absent the limitations of a reality far too unforgiving of factors beyond anyone’s control.

“It would be far more logical – and lucrative- for us to freelance.” I thought over his reply for a moment before shaking my head, expression falling.

“I don't want you to have to fight anymore…” I whispered, shifting slightly so the words were muffled against his leggings, “especially not in someone else’s war...”

He didn't respond, and when I finally looked back up at him, I understood why. The beauty beyond the viewport was forgotten, as was whatever embarrassment or doubt had pulled his gaze so pointedly away from me. He stared at me as though he'd just solved some great mystery, and the answer was something he wasn't prepared for, something he couldn't fix. He stared at me as though that knowledge would haunt him for eternity. There was a sadness to it, but it wasn't marred by regret. There was guilt, but there was also gratitude, and when his hand finally abandoned the controls, when he let himself reach for me, the backs of his fingers just brushing the hair from my eyes before sliding down to the curve of my jaw as though mapping the planes of my face by touch alone, I found myself consumed by the weight of that silence. I felt no need to break it, to offer either word or touch in return, but nor could I breathe beneath it, as though the slightest movement might scare him away.

He was the first to breach that quiet, but he did so gently, chest swelling with a slow breath, eyes closing for just a moment before again returning to the viewport, but he didn't pull away, hand instead shifting to softly cradle the side of my head, gloved fingers sliding carefully through locks of my hair, and, with a sigh full of my own relief and gratitude and exhaustion, I nestled more comfortably against him, legs stretching out across the cockpit floor as my cheek rested heavily atop his thigh, relishing in that moment of quiet with him for however long it might last.

-

“I carried your worthless shebs down the damn mountain. If you can’t even manage a ‘thank you,’ the least you could do is let me sleep.” I shouldn’t have been surprised that their first interaction after so nearly losing each other would be to fight, but I couldn’t keep my shoulders from sinking beneath a low sigh.

“You shot me.” Crosshair snarled, and I had to keep from rolling my eyes as I began carefully unwrapping the bandages about his head, silently thrilling in the relief of hearing the clarity in Hunter’s voice.

“I stunned you.” Hunter retorted with nearly the same degree of annoyance. “You’d been screaming for half a klik – made sure every damn clanker in that forest knew exactly where we were.” I felt Cross stiffen, his thin lips pulling into a subtle frown as his hands tightened around the edge of my bed, and I had to bite back the cringe pulling at my own lips, the worry that maybe I should have allowed them some separation, at least until tempers weren’t already strained beneath injury and fear. He’d almost refused to enter the medbay despite his eagerness to be free of those dreaded bandages, relenting only after I threatened to drag him there by force.

Those threats haunted me in the moments that followed; in the hesitation jilting his every movement despite how vehemently he tried to hide it; how violently he refused to hold onto me for guidance even when he nearly tripped over Hunter’s mattress in search of my own, waking the Sargent with a start.

“I’ve carried each and every one of you,” I grumbled loudly, “You don’t see me moaning about not getting a damn ‘thank you’… and I told you to let me help – won’t be doing either of you any favors if you go falling over each other like that…” I added sternly to Crosshair, silencing them both.

We were mere moments from finally reaching the Vigilance, and I knew how much worse Crosshair’s anxiety was sure to get the instant he stepped foot off the Marauder without the use of his eyes. I’d initially intended to wait another day, but his scans were promising enough to relent if only to spare him that added dread.

“There’s still bacta on your eyes,” I warned, voice softening, body leaning forward just enough to subtly press my thigh against his knee in a silent offer of reassurance, “So don’t freak out when everything’s still blurry.” He answered only with a small grunt but didn’t pull away from my touch. I could see how closely Hunter was watching us, his own breath held despite the strain it surely placed on his ribs in those final moments before the wrappings fell away.

Crosshair didn’t move for a moment longer, eyes closed in a final display of that heartbreaking fear; clinging to that last moment of uncertainty for what glimpse of denial it granted before he’d have to face the reality of his injuries.

When he finally forced those sharp eyes to open, his entire body went taut.

“I know.” I murmured gently, hand whispering over his. “Blurry is okay. What we’re worried about is dark spots; gaps where you can’t see anything.” He tried not to show that growing panic, but his brows furrowed further together with each passing second, and I found my movements hurrying if only to keep him from falling too deeply into his own thoughts.

“I want you to keep your eyes on mine, Cross. Using your peripherals, let me know when you can’t see my finger.” I didn’t bother reminding him that everyone had a blind spot, that the small junction where the optic nerve connected to the retina robbed everyone of a sliver of sight so small as to be unnoticeable, aware of how familiar he was with not just the general anatomy of human eyes, but of every way in which his own eyes differed, how they were better. Still, his hand tightened even more around the lip of the bed when my finger wandered toward the edge of his vision.

“There.” It was only because of how intimately I knew him that I heard the hint of panic in that hushed word.

“Anywhere else?” I asked, cadence carefully even as I slowly moved my finger before him.

“No.” It wasn’t a whisper, but the relief was so consuming as to rob even the rasp from his voice, and I readily mimicked that relief with a gentle smile, thumb trailing softly along the edge of his hand, heart jumping when he released his grip on the mattress to tightly lock his fingers through mine.

As I repeated the test on his other side, I remembered trying to guide him through an exam to test the range of motion in his hands after a complication threatened the nerves stretching down his arm, the skepticism in his deadpan glare as he watched me model the movements. There were no reservations now; no doubt toward my motivation nor skill or devotion, and that only heightened both the stress in bearing the responsibility of their care as well as the joy of helping them through injury or illness or insecurity.

“Now the fun part…” My warning was lost beneath the mirth still lighting my voice, and he had to force himself to pay attention. “We still need to rinse that gel out.” Even that failed to sour his relief, and I found myself murmuring lest I breach that precious moment of calm. “We can do that in the fresher – let you clean up a bit easier after.” I offered, earning an almost dazed nod from him as I stepped back, hand tightening once more around his before sliding away. “Let me grab a few things, then I’ll be right behind you.” He hesitated only briefly, mind belatedly making sense of what I’d said before pushing himself to his feet.

He paused once more just before reaching the door, attention shifting down to where his brother still lay in a slight daze of his own, though one of medication more than euphoria.

“Thanks.” It was quiet, but no less earnest for it. Hunter held his gaze for a moment in silence before giving a small nod, a flare of something ancient and powerful and safe burning in his eyes. He’d nearly died – had died – saving his brother, and that look screamed just how willing he was to suffer that agony a thousand times over if it meant his family would be okay.

“He was awake,” I murmured, still watching the door long after it slid shut behind the lithe sniper, “when I was… when I was trying to bring you back.” I hesitated before looking toward him, an apology screaming through my eyes even as I continued speaking, my own worry about how that trauma might yet haunt Crosshair superseding the fear that I was revealing truths he might never have wanted revealed. “I’ve never seen him like that…” He didn’t respond for a moment, jaw tensing with a guilt that left my heart writhing in my chest.

“… how long was I…” He didn’t say it, narrowed eyes staring blindly through the far corner of the room.

“I don’t know.” I answer quietly. “A few minutes?” A silence stretched between us; a silence that wasn’t meant to be broken for want of guidance or reassurance.

“I’ll asked Wrecker to bring you your datapad.” I sighed, finally moving to gather my supplies. “And a shake.” I added more firmly, glancing back to catch his eye to clearly voice the unspoken threat. He answered only with a small smirk, and I didn't hide the weight that fell from my shoulders in that moment. He was okay. Crosshair was okay. Wrecker, Tech, and Echo were all healing. Maker, we'd made it…

“I’ll come back to check on you soon.” With that parting promise, I finally followed after his brother, arms locked around jugs of saline and large flush syringes.

“Good luck.” He called after me, and I made sure he could hear my scoffed laugh of a response.

-

If there was some great difference between the Vigilance and the Negotiator, my untrained eyes couldn't see it:  same interplay of muted grays lining the hanger floors and walls; same curtains of blue light illustrating massive shields, same precise orchestra of soldiers marching in perfect synchrony across the gaping stretch of space between transports.

No… not the same… Surely the soldiers hidden beneath the ivory and gold armor of the 212th weren't the same as the ones I’d walked past so many months ago on the Negotiator. Those men were gone… How many? Why? Part of me wanted to blame the General, to shout at him purely to grant my rage and sorrow some outlet greater than merely allowing the anger to simmer in my chest. I wanted to accuse him of callously throwing away their lives, ask if he even knew the number of clones killed under his watch… but I knew that rage was born of a sorrow he felt just as keenly.

I’d only spent maybe an hour with the Jedi master; back when my own armor still gleamed white and I’d barely begun to develop some early taste of acceptance from the men who now held more of my heart than was right or proper or fair. Back then, I kept waiting for him to justify my prejudice, to shift blame and dismiss me with little more than rote reassurances and empty promises. Instead, I’d left that meeting with a sense of comfort, tentatively confident that he wasn’t there purely to placate me but to earnestly try to help. He cared. And I found myself mourning him just as strongly as those who’d fallen with his previous flagship, certain that he would never be free of the weight of loss growing ever heavier with each day the war continued.

General Kenobi was there when we landed, flanked by teams of medical staff with the Marshal Commander at his side. I saw them from only a fleeting glance, attention focused on addressing the pair of medics that had broken off from the main group to help transport Hunter. Tech, Wrecker, Crosshair, and Echo stood in formation behind the Senator. It was the first I’d seen of the arc in days, and there was a bittersweetness in that, in finally finding him only now when circumstance forbade me from speaking with him, not while Tech was providing as succinct of a debriefing as he was capable of and I was moments from taking my leave to oversee Hunter's care.

“I'm not sitting in that thing…” The words snarled from just within the Marauder where one of the Vigilance's men awaited with a hoverchair.

“The hell you aren't.” I snapped, shoulders pulling back as I turned an impatient glare toward the man leaning hazardously against the metal doorframe, jaw clicking shut around the curse burning atop my tongue to see him standing at all.

“It’s just outside the hanger. I'll walk.” He pressed with an impatience of his own.

“How about I neutralize those pain killers? See how eager you are to argue then.” His eyes narrowed with a slow, tense exhale just shy of a growl. “Chair or gurney.” I continued sternly. “Those are your choices. Or I can see if General Kenobi wants to do that force thing and magic you over there.” I added with a devious smirk. His lips drew up in a scowl just enough to flash a glimpse of clenched teeth, but, begrudgingly, he lowered himself into the hoverchair. The trooper behind him didn't linger, instantly moving forward before the unruly Sargent could voice further objection.

“Miss?” A voice called just before I started after them, and I turned to find the Senator approaching me, a confidence in his stride that was frightfully absent from eyes left almost timid from all he'd had to endure since his capture. He'd barely spoken to anyone beyond his daughter during the flight, movements almost neurotic beneath the desperate need to keep her close, to keep her safe, and none of us could truly begrudge him for that self-imposed isolation. Now, though, he’d ventured across the handle of meters separating us, for the first time since boarding the Marauder leaving the girl just beyond his reach.

“Senator.” I greeted with a small bow of my head.

“I… I just wanted to thank you.” There was still a slight tremor to his voice, and I wondered how he’d be able to return to politics after this, how he’d sleep knowing exactly what it meant to put himself and his family the spotlight like that.

“Just doing my job, sir.” I replied, though the automatic response wasn't without warmth. Still, he quickly shook his head.

“You took care of my girl… There's nothing in this galaxy that means more to me than her…” he pressed, and I had to bite back the flare of annoyance with a slow breath.

“I treated her injuries… but they were the ones who took care of her.” I said firmly, nodding to where Areeya was bouncing happily from Tech to Crosshair before, steps just a touch more hesitant, treading to Wrecker. The towering man instantly lowered himself onto a knee, and I cringed at how it surely strained the injured joint, but his scarred face was nothing but gentle as he smiled at the child. She tentatively reached for his hand. I couldn't hear what he said, but it left the girl giggling loudly, tiny fingers clutching onto him.

“He went back for her – hobbled through a burning ship with a dislocated knee because he was the only one who knew where she was.” I told him quietly as we watched the scene unfold. I vaguely noticed Tech's attention shift to watch the handful of troopers escorting Hunter to the medbay, and, with a final flurry of words, started toward us.

Areeya released Wrecker to free her hands for some frenzy of movements I was too far away to even try to interpret, and my heart jumped to see Wrecker respond in kind, movements hesitant and clumsy, but even from where I stood, I could see how the attempt left the girl bursting with glee, and without warning, she threw herself forward, arms straining to wrap around his broad chest.

“She’s… she’s signing.” The senator gasped.

“Yes…” Tech hummed thoughtfully. “We were curious as to why she was initially so opposed to that form of communication when she clearly has a fluent grasp on the language.” The father seemed to deflate around a heavy breath, eyes never once leaving his daughter.

“She… overheard her mother… My wife means well, truly, but… she doesn’t have much patience for our daughter’s… unique preferences.” He explained tensely. “She worries that, by giving Areeya an alternative to speech, we’re enabling her mutism.” I tried to speak, but Tech quickly cut me off.

“On the contrary, limiting anyone, particularly a child, of some means of communication is more likely to further isolate them and harm both social and mental development.” There was an edge to his voice, and I wasn’t surprised to note the subtle line forming between narrowed brows. “Whether her mutism stems from a reluctance to speak or an inability, neither is grounds for depriving her of what means of self-expression she does prefer.” I half expected the senator to balk at his blunt words, tensing in preparation to get between them, but the man before us merely closed his eyes beneath a weariness that left my heart aching for him.

“I know.” He barely whispered, looking back toward his beaming child. “…I know…” With little more than a final, shaking breath, he started toward the girl once more, steps slow; heavy.

“You okay?” I asked quietly. He didn't look at me as I whispered it, but I could see the stiffness in his shoulders as he watched the man approach Wrecker next.

“I'm eager to see the results of Hunter's scan.” It wasn't an answer, but it was enough. I let out a quiet sigh before nodding and, shoulder brushing lightly against his, turned to finally follow the path toward the medbay, allowing myself some solace in the safety of finding ourselves on one of the most prized ships of the GAR, in the knowledge that, here at least, I could finally see that my men received the care they needed, the care they deserved, even though I knew that this glimmer of respite was bought by blood and was doomed to be stolen from us far too soon.

Continue Reading

Click here or message me if you'd like to be added to a taglist!

Click here for my Masterlist.

Taglist: @arctrooper69 @eclec-tech @jennrosefx @echos-girlfriend @starqueensthings @manofworm @merkitty49 @idoubleswearimawriter @abigfanofstarwars @chopper-base @daftdarling222 @pb-jellybeans @bacta-the-future @rosechi @legalpadawan @drummergirl1701 @6oceansofmoons @dangraccoon @ji5hine @dathomiri-mudpuppy @mooncommlink @inneedoffanfics @totally-not-your-babe @delialeigh @callsign-denmark @blondie-bluue @ray-rook @iabrokengirl @arcsimper5 @rndmpeep @amorfista @flawsandgoodintent @passionofthesith @followthepurrgil @heidnspeak @roam-rs @foodmoneyandcats @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @9902sgirl @captainrex89 @waytoooldforthis78 @msmeredithrose @mythical-illustrator @sleepycreativewriter @anythingandeveythingstarwars @littlefeatherr @thegreatpipster @melonmochii @totallyunidentified @mickeyp03 @hipwell @echos_pile_of_bones @leotawrites @Asgre_Thar @fruityfucker

[jedipoodoo]

The phenomenon of OCs who are in love with Fives and then Hunter needs to be studied

[clownbloody]

Mechanical Bulls Hunter Badbatch the man that you are... Introducing the clownbloody censor bar featuring my fuckass mullet :D

[oceansssblue]

100 CELEBRATION — PROMPT 15. ARRANGED MARRIAGE / FAKE DATING

CROSSHAIR/F READER 💖

WARNINGS: past friendship breakup, fluff fluff fluff.

Note: I originally had a different idea planed for Crosshair with this prompt (a proper arranged marriage oneshot), but it was becoming extremely long so I decided to park that one out for the future and came up with this little idea instead. I hope you like it! We ony have two more prompts left (servant!rex & demon!echo); for which I've planned a longer story, so I might just acept requests to give you all a little something while I write that. I'll let you know when I decide that. Xx, Blue.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

As soon as the words come out of your mouth, you know it's a big, ugly mistake. The eyes of your ex-best friend and sister widens; the surprise and incredulity so raw and visible in their expresions it hurts. Yes, your luck in love has been sparse; but it shouldn't be that much of a shock to hear things are working out for you for once.

"What? Since when?"

At least your sister is on the good side of surprised. On the confused but genuine one. The girl you used to consider like a second sister, however, –Mara–, almost sneers at the –admitedly, very false– news.

"More importantly" she waves of your sisters questions impertinently and asks "With who?"

You blurt out the first name that comes to your mind.

"Crosshair".

That's the second, big, ugly mistake. You don't even know if you could consider him a friend. He's no stranger –you've seen each other fair enough in both the market and Cid's Salon–; but words are few and far between the two of you. You know more about him by his brother's and Omega's stories than by the man himself. He's incredibly reserved.

Ana seems to recognise the name.

"Isn't he one of Wrecker's brothers?"

You nod in silence under Mara's watchful eyes. Your sister Ana has a stand of sweets in the market; Wrecker is a regular there.

The Batch is a curious bunch. They're hard to forget.

"Well" Mara all but looks you up and down and you have to clench your teeth to not hiss a few ill-intended words at her. "I'm glad you're having fun even if it's with a worthless fling".

"Mara..." Ana intervenes, calling her out with a frown on her face.

Your sister is the sweet, quiet type of girl; but she's protective as well. She's probably suspicious of this, of not having heard of it from you before; but she'll stay quiet for your sake until she has the oportunity to interrogate you in private. She knows you and Mara have history.

Mara shrugs and grins; and your smile is just as fake. She has developed an uncanny ability to make your blood boil.

"I wouldn't call an engamement that" you casually reply, if only just to shut her mouth and swipe her smile off of her face.

Mara's satisfied expression drastically shiftes. Oh, it tastes so sweet... It almost makes you forget that everything you've said is a sequence of lies. Almost.

"Look at you... It's been ages since you had something remotely serious" Mara comments in an humiliating chirp. "He must be special. Why don't you bring him along next friday? We're having a small get together at home with a few old friends. I'd love to meet him".

Panick fires up in your veins; and some must be reflected on your face, because Mara smiles wide like a lothcat.

Anger burns through you; once again remembering all the pain this woman has put you through.

You arrange a small, relaxed expresion for her.

"I'll try to convince him" you accept, swallowing down all the anxiousness and doubts. "I guess you'll send me the details?"

At first, Mara looks surprised; but she quickly falls back to her irritatingly sweet condescendance, smiling politely.

"Of course. I still have your com number. I'll let you know".

Mara nods at your sister; then bristly turns around without bothering on sending a goodbye to you as well.

You watch her retreating form with a mix of relief and wariness. Ana bumps her shoulder with yours.

"Hey" she calls you, quietly worried. "You okay?"

You sigh, tension melting away from your shoulders momentarily.

"Yeah" you glance back at her. "I just have to find the way to convince Crosshair to act as my soon-to-be husband. Should be easy, right?"

Ana chuckles at your sarcasm, inmediately catching up on your lie.

"You digged that hole down yourself" she reminds you, good-heartedly. "It would have been easier if you've thought of Wrecker or Hunter. Or even Tech".

You sigh tiredly. Crosshair agreeing to act as if he were in love with you?

"Yeah, right".

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Cross!" Wrecker's voice echoes in the cockpit of the Marauder. "Gun-girl is here to see you!"

You try not to wince at the volume –nor the pet name–; waiting patiently and praying the man won't interpret the visit as an invasion of his privacy. This ship is their home, after all. And like you pointed out before, he's very private.

Slow, carefull footsetps anounce his presence. Seconds later, a fully armoured Crosshair –minus the helmet– is staring at you with a mix of calculated wariness and confusion. He's probably wondering what the hell are you doing here.

"Hello, Crosshair" you greet him nervously. "Can I talk to you for a bit?"

He continues to stare at you in that way of his you find both nerve-wracking and intriguing; then glances at his smiling brother, and gestures you to come in.

You take a deep, centering breath and step up on the ramp of the Marauder, firmly walking towards the cockpit. You've been inside the ship only once before; when you delivered some supplies for the guys' weapon stock. Crosshair follows you; Wrecker stays outside. The Marauder is otherwise empty; which means that at least only a maximum of two persons will hear how stupid you are.

"So?" Crosshair asks, sprawling down on the pilot chair and prompting you to take the other one.

You bite your lip anxiously before you start.

"So... I need your help" he arches an eyebrow –how can that look so elegant?– and you start to explain yourself. "I... May have told someone I despise I was engaged to you, and she might have invited us to her house next Friday. I was wondering if you'd... agree to play the part?"

It sounds even more ridiculous out loud; as if you were pulling a silly prank. Crosshair's neutral reaction doesn't help either. Far from showing surprise or irritation, he stays painfully normal.

He tilts his head; long fingers taking a toothpick of his pack and placing it between his lips. A sort of endearing habit of his.

"Sounds like unnecesary trouble for me" he points out, not necessarily cold but brutally honest.

You search your brain for an answer that could please him. Perhaps if you give him something in return for this favor...

"I have a new sniper scope model arriving soon. I'll let you try it out first. I'll give you a discount too".

The offer seems to catch his attention; for he hums thoughtfully while never taking his eyes off of you.

"And who is this person you despise?" He asks –dare you say– curiously.

Your answer is acompanied by a long tired sigh.

"An old friend. She tried to humiliate me pointing out my lack of love life and I... Had to swipe her smile off of her face".

You're ashamed of admiting it to him. He always looks so controlled... You know this whole thing is inmature and futile. You don't want him to see you like a kid.

"What happened between the two of you?"

You're surprised by the ammount of personal questions Crosshair is asking. You would have thought he would have inmediately shut down your idea; or perhaps agreed but without wanting to get into the emotions and story behind it. Perhaps you don't know him as well as you thought.

"She gave me some very good memories back when we were younger" you admit. "But I then realized she's the kind of person who wants to see you doing good; but never better than herself. She tried to sabotage me when that ocasionally happened. Stole a boyfriend, a job, or two".

You hadn't intended to go that deep; but you mean every single word, and your vulnerability is exposed to Crosshair for the first time ever. For all he's a private person, you are too. You'd hate for others to consider you weak.

Crosshair observes you for what feels like an eternity, taking the information in. You force yourself not to hide from his perceptive eyes.

"Mm" he finally hums, thoughtful. "There's something I still don't understand. Why was I the first name that came to your mind?"

You blink back at him, stunned, cheeks blushing upon the implication of the question. You hadn't really thought about it either. You had somehow always paid more attention to Crosshair than the rest of your clients; but you had never realised it might mean you were simply into him. Are you?

"Well" you take a bit too long to answer, trying to sound casual and firm. "You are, as far as I know, single, and no-one really knows you in Ord Mantell. It seemed the most logical option".

Crosshair looks skeptical, but he lets you get away with it.

"Right..." he drawls, searching for something in your still warm face. Then, to your surprise, he smirks and says "I'll check your stand for that new scope on thursday. You can update me on our love story then".

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

At first you were dissapointed, then irritated, and now worried. Crosshair had agreed to meet you outside of Mara's house at eight; but no matter how long you waited for him, he hadn't appeared. You had had no other option than to knock on Mara's door on your own; and her grin upon seing you arriving alone had been another level of irritating. You had set up an excuse for him, trying not to make your hurt visible. After a few minutes of interiorising it, you had grown angry; Crosshair could have just refused to help you instead of backing off at last minute without a warning. Halfway through the dinner, though, you had received a message on your coms; and all those negative emotions had switched to genuine worry.

An hour later, in the quietness of the kitchen, you carefully read the text again.

"Mission off-world, things got out of hand. Just arrived. I'll be there shortly –Crosshair."

You're aware that the Batch often work as bounty hunters for Cid; and how the boys sometimes help with small missions for the Rebellion. You've never asked into it –you understand how dangerous the fact that you know they're on the run from the Empire and helping the Rebellion already is–; but you know it's usually dangerous, specially the second sort. You wonder just how out of hand things got. Did someone got hurt? Did he?

You're a nervous wreck throughout the rest of the night; and Mara and his friends –pretty polite and nice for a bitch like her, you have to say– can't help but notice and finally question it.

"Sweetheart, is everything okay?" One of the girls ask, genuine concern on her eyes.

You force a small smile on your face.

"Yeah. Just... Crosshair commed me telling me he had some trouble on his way back to Ord Mantell, so I'm just a bit worried" you tell them, all but Mara's face showing various degrees of sincere understanding. "I'll be fine once he gets here".

"If he manages to arrive at all, that is" Mara halfway sneers, then plasters a big smile on her caked face. "Shall we move outside for a drink?"

Your mind is so focused on Crosshair that you don't even feel the need to assesinate her this time.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

When you're well onto your third glass of wine, you feel a hand carefully grazing the skin of your spine. Lips brush across the crown of your hair; the combination bringing pleasant goosebumps to your body. Far from tensing at the unexpected contact, you melt upon hearing his voice.

"Hello, darling" his low tone is a sin. Then, he turns to look at the rest. "Forgive me for arriving this late".

You hear a chorus of acceptance from Mara's friends; but you turn towards him and your attention is solely fixed on Crosshair. You frown at the scratches on one side of his face; an angry red against his skin. Your fingers involuntarily travel upwards to his cheek, carefully tracing the contour of them.

"You're hurt" you whisper, ignorant to how Mara is quietly observing the interaction between the two of you.

Crosshair hums and takes your hand in his, squeezing softly while he takes a seat besides you at the table. He doesn't let you go; and you don't make the effort either.

"I'm okay" he assures you, voice calm. "Did I miss something interesting?"

To your luck –because you're suddenly enthraced by him, by the way the moonlight makes his grey hair look almost white and his dark brown eyes lighten up– someone answers for you.

"Just a lot of embarassing stories about our youth" there's a general laugh, and Crosshair conjures a tiny tiny smile.

Your heart swoons upon noticing it.

His gaze turns back to you. You're painfully aware of how he's still craddling your hand in his; of how gentle he is.

It's a whole new side of him you didn't even know it existed. You feel honoured to experience it.

"You'll have to tell me yours later" he tells you, and you force yourself to come back to the present with a chuckle.

"No thanks. I'd like to remain engaged tomorrow morning" you joke, and everyone laughs.

Even Mara seems reluctantly enchanted with Crosshair at the end of the night.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Well, that went surprisingly well" you comment once you've parked your speedcar next to the Marauder, having offered Crosshair a drive back. "You're a great actor, by the way".

Crosshair shrugs, body now turned towards you while you both remain sitting in the privacy of your car.

"It's not like it was a difficult task" he answers, eyes flickering over your face before slowly adding. "You know what I thought we'd had to do, and we haven't yet done?"

He gives you a few seconds to process his words, his intentions; before one of his hands slowly take hold on your chin and tugs you forwards to join your lips together in a surprisingly soft, unhurried kiss. Warmth bursts inside of you, heart speeding inside of your chest; surrendering to the kiss with a pleased sigh. When you part from each other, you see an unusual vulnerability in Crosshair's face.

"Well, it would have been impossible not to sell it, with a kiss like that" you try to rest tension to the scene.

Crosshair's following words shake up your world; make you look at things with a different perspective.

"It's easy to sell something when not all of it is built upon lies".

The meaning behind it swirls in your mind. He's admiting there's something between the two of you besides the mess you've put both of you through. His half-conceiled confession leaves you too shocked to react; and you can only stare at him while he gets out of your car.

"Night, gun-girl" he smirks through your window, and then casually walks away towards the Marauder.

Perhaps you'll see him tomorrow in the market, and perhaps you'll go on an actual first date with your fake soon-to-be husband.

You drive back home with thoughts of Crosshair swimming in your head. You're sure you'll dream of that kiss tonight as well.

THE END.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Back to my main masterlist here:

Back to 100celeb list here: