#sergeant hunter/reader

[221bshrlocked]

fatal dis|at|traction

Pairing: Hunter x AFAB!Reader

Words: 9774

Warnings: Unrequited feelings (in more ways than one). Touch-starved characters. Lots of sweet/dirty talk. Hunter likes to tease a lot. Oral Sex (female receiving). Fingering. Squirting. Just a bit of a knife kink (it's not everyone's cup of tea so it's a very short scene). Pentrative, Unprotected Sex (wrap it up folks). Creampie. Cuddling.

Summary: You have feelings for Tech who is now taken. Hunter notices your little predicament and decides to offer you a solution, one that you take enthusiastically. Little do you know that this could be the start of something new.

A/N: It's been a minute but I'm very thankful for the Life Day Gift Exchange by @cloneficgiftexchange because I finally managed to write something. This is for @intricatechaosofyou who gave a prompt after my own heart. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing it. Coincidentally, this also fits into one of the @clonexreaderbingo prompts I got which I am embarrsingly behind on.

With every little chuckle you heard from Phee, your heart beat in jealousy at not being Tech’s center of attention. You thought it wouldn’t be an issue in the beginning, assuming that Tech would remain uninterested in Phee’s flirtatious advances. But the more she hung out with the team, the more he warmed up to her subtle compliments and faint touches. Before you knew what was happening, he was hanging out with her whenever you and the batch had time off from the crazy missions Sid continued to send you on. 

Then she took you to Pabu and things really spiraled. Their time together increased each day and you barely got to see him. You couldn’t blame him really, or Phee. You just wished you had more time or perhaps been a bit more brave about your feelings towards him.

Another random laugh fills the afternoon air, this time from Tech, and you can’t help but stop what you’re doing and look at the two of them enjoying the preparation for Life Day. You look with longing at the man who managed to captivate your heart with a simple, random fact, and you sigh heavily at knowing that you’ll never really have a chance with him. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Hunter breaks your sad train of thought, and you turn around to look at him, silently praying that he didn’t just notice you staring at his brother. You pack the decoration boxes and look down to the ground, pretending you don’t understand what he’s talking about. 

“What?” You ask once, and when Hunter doesn’t respond right away, you glance at him quickly to try and gauge his reaction, hoping that you can fool him by acting as clueless as possible about his question. He stares at you silently, uncrossing his arms and heading towards you to help you out with the rest of the boxes.

“I- I’m not sure what you’re referring to, Sarge.” You say in passing as you make your way to the storehouse, already thinking of some lie to respond with in case he dragged this out. When you set down all the empty containers, you shut the door behind the two of you and head towards the center of the town. 

“Don’t do that…not with me.” Hunter breaks the silence after a while, stopping you in your tracks and waiting until you acknowledge him. You ring your fingers nervously, gulping down the nervousness that built up in your throat before facing him. There’s another fake reply at the tip of your tongue but before you can say anything, Hunter beats you to it, stopping you from embarrassing yourself any further. 

“Come on, you can’t lie to me.” He furrows his eyebrows, looking at the couple standing not too far from you before centering his attention back on you again.

“I’m not lying.” You’re more defensive than you’d like and Hunter sighs in irritation, shaking his head and taking those last few steps towards you. The last thing he wants to do is embarrass you but he knows this conversation won’t go anywhere unless you willingly open up to him. 

“Then why is your heart racing? I can practically feel you shaking. You’re not even looking at me.” Your palms grow sweaty the more he reveals those little details about you. 

“Talk to me.” You never thought you’d hear him plead for anything and when you finally look at him, you see a genuine, heartfelt expression on his face, one that makes you feel even more horrible about the predicament you found yourself in. 

“It’s not important, don’t- just don’t worry about it.” You wave your hand around and turn around to walk away from him, only to feel a strong hold wrap around your wrist and stop you from going anywhere else. 

“Tech is a genius, but he can be incredibly dense at times.” Hunter waits until you meet his eyes again before he whispers that last sentiment. The shock of the exclamation sends your heart racing, and your eyes widen in horror at the prospect of everyone else potentially knowing your feelings for Tech. 

“Wha- how…how did you know?”

“I know mesh’la, I know.” He loosens his grip a little, but doesn’t let you go completely, not wanting you to run away from him. The two of you stand in quietness for too long to your liking, and you give up on trying to pretend you don’t know what he’s talking about. 

You give up on trying to make it seem like you’re okay. 

“Is it that obvious?” The chuckle is self-deprecating, and you avoid looking into his hazel gray eyes, afraid you’d cry if he continues to give you that horribly sentimental expression. 

“Not to the others, although Echo guessed just as much a while back. But no, the others don’t know.” Hunter lets go of you then, but he doesn’t move away from you, wanting you to know that he’s here to help in whatever you’ll allow him to. 

“How did you find out?” You move away from the crowd slowly forming around the town square, wanting to have some privacy from prying eyes, from Wrecker and Omega. 

“I notice the way your eyes light up whenever he walks in the room, or goes on one of those rants about kriff knows what.” Anyone else would have laughed at you, but you feel at peace knowing that Hunter would never tease you about something like this. He was too kind to joke about such an intimate little secret. 

“Hmm.”

“And your heart beats like you’ve just run across the whole of Coruscant.” Hunter adds as he comes to a halt in front of the house you reserved for yourself when you first got to Pabu. 

“Ahh, that is extremely embarrassing.” You turn away from him as you respond, not wanting to be at the receiving end of whatever comment he was going to throw your way.

“It’s not…it’s natural to react that way when you have feelings towards someone.” You’re a little surprised by his explanation, mostly because you never thought he’d be the type to speak so sweetly about something as awkward as emotions. 

“Right.” You can’t help but smile when you see him shrug at you, and as you’re about to unlock your door, Hunter turns around and grabs the knob, preventing you from reaching for it, let alone turn around and get away from him. 

“You know what you need?” He asks, and you shiver at the sudden drop in his voice, wondering why he was suddenly becoming so friendly with you. 

“Please enlighten me, because this whole conversation hasn’t been humiliating enough as is.” You laugh in an attempt to diffuse the tension slowly building in between the two of you, but Hunter doesn’t crack a single smile, roaming his eyes down your neck and taking in a deep breath before meeting your gaze once more. 

“You need to get your mind off of him, just for a little while. Find a distraction…sometimes you have to stay busy so you don’t feel.” You’re too distracted by the proximity between his body and your own to dwell on the true meaning behind his words. 

“Yeah well, good thing we’re staying here. Helping rebuild the city will definitely take my mind off of him and…ugh, I guess make me focus less on seeing the two of them together.” Looking past him to the slowly busying town square, you completely miss the way he bites his lower lip as he studies you closely and shakes his head at your response. 

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh yeah, what do you mean th-” Turning your focus back to him, the words die in your throat when you finally notice the way he’s looking at you. You part your lips in a gasp, finding it difficult to breathe as Hunter leans into your space and groans his intentions against your jaw. 

“I mean…you need to get your mind off of him, and onto something else…perhaps someone else.” Your body freezes at the unexpected intimacy of the moment, and although you know you should push him away and tell him to forget whatever was happening, you tell yourself that this might just be what you need to forget about Tech. 

“I s-see.” Hunter’s hand reaches for your waist, holding you against him until he’s sure you’re accepting his advances. He smiles at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief that sends a zap of lightning down your spine. 

It was a warm day in Pabu, but having Hunter flush against your chest makes you even more heated, and you gulp down whatever nervousness was threatening to make itself known in the form of a rejection, allowing your fingers to dance along his forearm before you grab onto his shoulders for support. 

“W-what do you have in mind?” He gets even more bold then, wrapping his arm around your back and pulling you in until you nearly bump your forehead against his nose. 

“I think you know.” His voice is gravely, and it occurs to you then that he may have always had this deep baritone, but you just never truly appreciated it until now. 

“Humor me, Sarge.” You smirk right back at him, eyes dancing from his lips to his piercing gaze in preparation for what he’s about to say. 

“Well, you’ll first need to find someone willing to help you out, someone who knows all about distractions. Then, you take them somewhere private and…how should I put this, kindly ask them to fuck your brains out…take the edge off a little…and if you start thinking of him again, you get on your knees and have them dick you down real hard…till you can’t think straight.” His lips graze across the skin of your cheek, down to your neck, as he promises you the filthiest sentiments, and if you weren’t sure you knew the man standing in front of you was far beyond the average man, you would have asked him how he had you melting into his arms in such a small period of time. 

“Maker,” you nearly reach up to kiss him but then quickly remember that anyone can see you. Before you can push him away, Hunter nudges you harshly to get your attention again, not wanting you to get distracted by your surroundings or if anyone might hear what the two of you have in mind. 

“Hmm, I think your body agrees with me sweetheart. Why don’t you have that tired brain of yours catch up?” He nods at your head, tilting his head to the side as if he was asking you a silent question. 

“Do you…do you know someone that can do all of what you just said?” 

“You’re right in luck baby, I happen to be free for the next couple of hours.” Hunter responds right away, knowing that it would be extremely difficult to have you like this again. 

“Ahhh, t-that saves me from looking then.” You smile when he rests against you and nudges your nose with his own, aquiline one. 

“So, what do you want?” Again, his voice is smoother than honey, sending you spiraling in a matter of seconds out of anticipation. 

“I thought you…don’t be cruel, please.” You kiss the corner of his mouth, feeling the rough stubble across his sharp cheeks burn you in the sweetest way. Hunter turns his head far enough to finally tough his lips with your own, the kiss ending far too quickly to your liking but leaves you begging for more. 

“Never…never. I mean, how do you want it mesh’la? You want it slow, soft, sensual…” He slithers his hands across your body, leaving a trail of fire across your skin with each sweet touch he graces you with. 

“Or do you like it hard and fast…till you can’t scream anymore?” He digs his nails into your curves then grabbing and squeezing your ass until you nearly fall against him.

“Oh fuck…I- Hunter, please.”

“You’re a big girl, use your words and tell me what you want!” Hunter combs his hand into your hair, tugging on it harshly until you throw your head back and give him access to your neck. He descends down on you like a madman, nipping and sucking on the soft expanse of your skin until you’re panting in his embrace. 

“You want me to be sweet with you…or do you want to feel me with every step you take tomorrow?” He licks the bitemarks he’s left behind, chuckling to himself when he feels you shaking in his arms and practically begging him to fuck you right out in the open. 

“Please Hunter, be- be rough with me. As rough as you want.” You reach for the collar of his shirt, fisting it in your hands as if you were holding on for dear life. You should have known that as everything else, Hunter would easily take you down without breaking a sweat. 

“A girl after my own heart.” He chuckles then, the sweet sound shooting straight into your chest and making you wish he just pushed the door behind you open and took you somewhere more private. 

“I’ll take my time with you next time baby, worship every fucking inch of your body as you deserve. But tonight…tonight I’m going to teach you how to take me…please me…open up for me and take my cum like the good girl I know you are.” He kisses across your damp skin in between words, finding it difficult to continue holding back when he could practically smell your arousal the more he whispers into your ears. 

“I’m going to fuck you into the next galaxy sweetheart, till the only name your pretty little brain can remember is mine and mine alone.” Your heart beats so fast Hunter thinks you might pass out, but as you melt into his arms and pull him closer to you, he knows that you’re enjoying this as much as he was. 

“And believe me when I tell you, I’ll know if you’re thinking of him. So be a pretty little sweetheart and focus on me.” He moves away to take a better look at you, raising a curious eyebrow when he finds you completely lost in every touch and every sweet word he was gifting you with. 

“Yes,” you barely manage to breathe out, waiting for whatever he still has in stock for you. 

“Yes?” Hunter asks, his expression turning more serious when you open your eyes and look right into his own. There’s something so erotic about how much he can sense every little reaction you have to his advances, but he sets his thoughts aside long enough to hear you openly consent to him. 

“Yes, sergeant.” Those two words are music to his ears, and he steps away instantly, but not before making sure you can still stand on your own two feet. You snap out of your haze when you no longer feel the heat of his body against yours. 

“Good girl.” He grabs your hand and leads you away from your home, down the tiled pathway towards the quieter side of the island. 

“Where…where are you taking me?”

“Some place where you can scream my name without worrying about anyone hearing you.” He nearly stops in his tracks when he hears you moan in response to his words, but he knows that if he looks back now, he might never make it to his own place. If anything, the reaction he gets out of you makes him walk quicker, not caring for how you stumble several times as he continues towards the smaller, but more private homes at the bottom of the island. 

You can’t look away from him, and as you follow him blindly, you find yourself surprised at not wishing he was someone else. Maybe because you’ve always found him objectively handsome, all the clones were if you were being honest, or perhaps because you’ve always wondered what it would be like to be with someone like Hunter, someone who you knew would be so attuned to every sound and every muscle twitch you’d have that he’d know instantly how to please you. But the longer you dwell on it, the more you realize that you’re lucky to have someone like him pay you this much attention, or even be willing to give you this favor. 

Little did you know that while you were longing for Tech, Hunter was struggling to keep his own feelings at bay. He didn’t want to take advantage of you, far from it, but he figured that maybe, just maybe, if he showed you how much he cares for you, you’d look at him instead of his brother. 

He can feel your eyes on him, and his heart skips a beat at the prospect of finally having your attention. Hunter wants to ask you if you’re sure about this, but as he approaches his residence, he finds himself less willing to break the two of you out of whatever cloud you’ve fallen under, afraid that you’d change your mind and leave. 

The thought nearly breaks his heart, but as he slows down and unlocks his door, he feels your hands shaking even harder, and he knows then that he needs to give you an out because you may not be able to take it yourself. 

“Sweet girl, you’re trembling.” He turns around and cups your neck, forcing you to look into his eyes so you’re sure he doesn’t mind if you walk away from him. 

“If you’ve changed your mind…if- if you don’t want this anymore, we can stop. It’s- it’s okay.” The words sound less convincing to his ears, but he braces himself for the rejection he’s sure you’re about to give him. 

“No, Hunter please.” Your instant response sends a wave of relief and reluctance through his chest, and his eyes widen for a fraction of a second before they soften again, knowing that if you noticed his expression, you might push through just to not upset him. 

“I won’t have you against your will baby.” He leans over and kisses the small space in between your eyebrows, waiting until you relax against him before he pulls away and meets your gaze again. 

“I want this, Hunter. I- I want you. I’d be lying to myself if I said otherwise.” You tug at his forearms, wanting him to not shy away from you, perhaps even afraid that he’d change his mind and tell you to leave. Your nerves slowly rise again and Hunter must sense your spiraling thoughts because he pulls you into the small space and shuts the door behind you, pushing you against the wall and stepping impossibly close to you so you can only feel him. 

“Tell me what you need. Right this moment.” 

“Can you just...hold me for a minute? I- I need to feel your arms around me.” You barely manage to breathe out the request, not because you think he’ll laugh at it but because you find yourself having a difficult time thinking of a single coherent thought. 

“Sure thing ad’ika, come here.” Hunter slowly walks back to the small bed at the edge of the wall, sitting down on the soft surface of the covers before pulling you into his lap. You follow him quietly, finding it oddly soothing to have him in control of your actions rather than your own mind. You throw your arms around him and rest your head on his chest, willing yourself to relax as soon as you feel his hands roam across your back soothingly. 

“I want you to focus on my heartbeat.” You do as he says, moving your head down a little further so you can listen to his heart. If you’re shocked by how much faster it is, you say nothing and dwell on the fact that he may be just as nervous as you are. 

“Take deep breaths,” Hunter slides one hand underneath your shirt to test the waters, shutting his eyes and smiling to himself when your muscles relax deeper into him. 

“Nothing else matters, little one. Only you, and me…right here and now.” He reminds you one last time, massaging your back and turning his head every once in a while to kiss you. Hunter shuts his eyes to commit this moment to memory, unsure of whether he’ll ever get to have you like this again or not. He says nothing after, wanting to ensure that you have all the time you need before the two of you do anything. 

You’re not sure how long you spend in his arms but when you no longer feel nervous at being in his presence, you pull away and rest your hands on his chest, willing yourself to be brave enough to look into his eyes after experiencing such an intimate moment with him. 

“Feeling better?” He reaches for your chin and moves it up softly to take a better look at you. As soon as he looks into your eyes, he smiles at you, waiting until you return the expression before doing anything else. 

“Hmm.”

“Then why don’t you lay back for me.” He moves you off of him and studies you closely as you maneuver yourself around his bed. You’re less shy than before, that he’s sure of, but you do as he says more confidently, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by Hunter, and makes him imagine all that he can do to you. 

“You know, I- I always thought you had a soothing voice,” you break the silence reluctantly, biting your lower lip when you notice Hunter smirking at the unexpected sentiment. 

“Yeah?” He questions as he kneels on the bed and slowly crawls towards you. 

“Yes, but now…now I’m realizing it’s your presence.” You waver in your response, finding it difficult to think of anything when he’s looking at you like you’re his prey. 

“Tell me more.” Hunter demands, dancing his fingers across whatever skin he has access to and watching as goosebumps erupt across your body at the simple touches. 

“It’s in your touch, your- kriff, your movements…your gaze.” You arch your back when Hunter digs his nose at the space just above the edge of your pants and takes a long whiff of your scent. You think that if anyone else has done something so strange, you’d be turned off by it, but this was Hunter, and scenting was important to him, especially since he must have been getting awfully close to you because he liked what he could smell. 

“Glad to be of service,” he comments in passing, nudging your shirt up to get more access to the skin of your stomach. He kisses your navel, breathing you in with each new bit of flesh he came across. 

“Gods above,” you can’t take it anymore, reaching for his shoulder and trying to pull him closer to you so he could speed things up a bit. 

“No sweetheart, it’s only me.” He chuckles at the whine you send his way, looking up at you as he parts your thighs and makes space for himself in between. 

“You’re d-driving me insane Hunter.” Hunter doesn’t move an inch as you try to bring him closer. If anything, he slows down even more and takes both of your hands into his own, softly kissing the wrist of each one before bringing them above your head. 

“If you’re still coherent, then I’m not driving you insane enough.” He’s teasing you, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think he was pushing you to a point where you could do nothing but beg for him. So distracted with the patterns he’s drawing across your arms, you don’t realize where the other hand is reaching until you feel his grip tighten around your throat. 

“Ahh, please.” You arch your back, grabbing the sheets beneath you in an attempt to keep your hands where he asked you to. You want nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and surrender to his lips, but you knew better than to disobey his orders. Hunter was a strict man in the field, and you were positive he wasn’t any different in this context. If anything, he was probably even more severe now. At least you hoped he would be. 

“And remember baby, it’s ‘Sergeant’ for you. Got it?”

“Yes, sergeant.”

“Now, do me a favor and keep your hands there.” He taps twice on them, waiting until you nod in agreement before he sits back up and takes your wrecked form. He hoped you’d open up for him easily, but he never thought you’d be so needy, let alone greedy for him. 

“But how will you take my clothes off?” You pout at him, the expression making Hunter wish he could flip you over and fuck you into oblivion. But he knew you needed him to be soft tonight, even if you were adamant in making him get a little rough with you. 

“Let’s not spoil the fun.” He warns with a pinch to your hip, chuckling at the way you jump and your thighs unintentionally close around him. 

“A bit sensitive, aren’t we?” He rests one hand near your head as he leans down and kisses the corner of your mouth, waiting for you to breathe before touching your lips with his own. It’s a chaste kiss, yet it sends your heart leaping through the roof because of how unexpectedly tender it is. 

“I…haven’t done this in a while.” You whisper against his mouth, chasing him along when he begins to pull away again. 

“Shame,” it’s such a simple comment, and yet you feel a string of butterflies in your stomach at the implication behind it. The fact that you held Hunter’s focus when so many on the island were begging for it makes you wish he could have approached you sooner. 

“Hmmph,” the sound of your moan reaches your ear instantly, and you try to hide from Hunter out of embarrassment, but he doesn’t let you, moving down your body slowly and continuing to drive you mad with need for him. 

“Go on baby, moan for me.”

“What if s-someone hears?”

“Everyone’s in town for the celebrations,” he reaches down and unbutton your pants, looking straight into your eyes as he pulls the fabric down your legs and throws it behind him. You try to close your legs quickly, afraid he could smell how wet you are. But Hunter is much faster than you, and he prevents you from moving another muscle, looking down once at the dark patch on your panties before meeting your eyes again, silently letting you know that he could smell you long before this very moment. 

“No one’ll hear you, mesh’la. So beg all you want, you’re mine tonight.” He slips one finger beneath the edge of your panties, thumbing at the skin of your hips to get you to calm down a little before he does anything else. 

“Only tonight?” You don’t mean to ask this question, not now at least, but you figured you may as well see if this was a one-time thing or not. 

“Oh I don’t get to decide that, you do.” He surprises you with his answer, and the shock must be visible on your face because Hunter tilts his head to the side and stares at you until you realize you really were in control of what goes on between the two of you. 

“So if I- oh kriff, if I want you to fuck me every night…”

“Then ask me nicely.” He slips one hand underneath your shirt, raising it above your stomach to your chest and laying it across your sternum to feel your heartbeat. When you don’t respond right away, he slides his hand a little further and draws random patterns just below your breast. 

“Better yet, beg me sweetly…and I’ll give you my cock whenever you like.” He promises as he continues to edge you into submission, something that makes you wish you could yell at him about and thank him for. 

“T-thank you, sarge.” Your breathing becomes erratic the longer he touches you anywhere but where you want him, and just as you begin to give up hope, he removes his hands completely from your form and reaches behind him. 

“Do you trust me cyar’ika?” The question is asked with hesitance, and you’re not sure why he’s asking you this all of a sudden, but when you hear the sound of a clasp coming undone, you know why he’s being so serious. 

“You know I do.” It’s the first thing you said since he dragged you behind him where you aren’t practically shaking beneath him, and once he’s completely satisfied with your response, he pulls out the blade from its holster and flips it around. You’re enamored by the swift movement of the weapon as it dances in between his fingers, and the faster Hunter plays with the knife, the more difficult you find it to breathe. 

“Then look at me.” He demands as he stops swinging the knife around, and you obey him instantly, gulping excitedly as he leans over your body once again and places the sharp end of the knife at the top of your shirt, inches below your neck.  

“Don’t,” Hunter warns slowly, nicking small holes into your shirt until the article of clothing rips down the middle, “move,” his voice is somehow even more gravely than before, and you stop breathing altogether, not because you think he’ll hurt you but because you can’t help but feel turned on by how focused he is on you and how safe you feel with something so dangerous, “a muscle.” He continues to ruin your shirt and you can’t find it in yourself to care one bit, knowing that being at Hunter’s mercy was worth far more than any shirt you could own. When he completely separates both sides of the fabric, he slips the wide edge of the knife beneath the fabric and pushes it to the side before grabbing the other with his fingers and displaying your nude skin to his hungry eyes. 

You let out a deep breath and refuse to look anywhere else but his dilated pupils, clenching your thighs tightly at knowing that you were the reason behind such a dramatic reaction from him. 

“I can smell you, little one. Does this turn you on?” He finally looks away from your heaving chest to your eyes, and when he finds you already staring at him, he smiles to himself and places the knife down gently on the small table near his bed. You’re disappointed that he clearly won’t be using it anymore, and Hunter notices the small expression because he trails his fingers down your front and pinches one nipple to get your attention. 

“Use your words and tell me.” You arch into his rough ministrations, whispering your response and moaning for more. 

“Y-yes, it does.”

“I knew you’d be fun.” He soothes the heated skin of your breast, drawing small circles around one nipple just as he leans down and takes the other in between his teeth. You whine his name over and over again, and Hunter growls his approval against you, lapping up the bitemarks he left around your hardened peak before sucking harshly on it again. 

“Fuck, I do love how sensitive you are.” He manages to say right before diving for the other nipple and tasting your natural scent along with the soap you use to shower. 

“And how hard your nipples perk at the touch of my fingers.” He thinks you’re about to move one hand so he reaches quickly for it, gripping it tightly and keeping it against the bed while he leaves angry marks across your chest. 

“Ahh maker, please sergeant.” Your moans are becoming louder, and Hunter decides then and there that if you were going to scream for him, it should be his name falling from your lips, not his rank. The only warning you get before he descends down your body is his hand slipping underneath your panties and instantly pushing two fingers into your cunt. You’re dripping for him, and his thick fingers rub against your tight walls with an embarrassing ease. 

“Kriff, I know I asked you to call me that, but forget it.” Hunter looks into your eyes as he lets go of your wrist and grabs the back of your neck, not bothering to say anything else as he lunges for your mouth and swallows your moans. You part your thighs and your lips for him, not caring for any rule he’s given you as you throw your arms around his neck and pull him closer to you. He fingers you slowly, but as begin to clench tightly around him, Hunter can’t hold back anymore and he moves off of you with a wet smack before crawling down your body. You’re shocked by the sudden urgency of his movement, and as soon as you reach for his hair and tug on it, you feel his warm lips close around your clit and his tongue aggressively lap at the engorged bundle of nerves. 

“I want you to scream my name, mesh’la. Scream my name as you come on my tongue.” 

“Hu- ahhh g-gods!” You’re not aware of what you’re saying, and the harder Hunter thrusts his fingers into you, the quicker you feel your release coming along. 

“You smell…so sweet.” Hunter manages to breathe in between his assault on your pussy, and you let go of his hair to grab for the sheets beneath you, not wanting to hurt him by how hard you’d pull on his hair. 

“But you taste so much sweeter.” He feels his cock harden as the taste and scent of you fill his nostrils. Normally, he’d find it overwhelming to be surrounded by so many strong scents, but the more you gush for him, the more he wants to dive into you and make you soak him with your arousal. 

“Hunter, oh right there…please.” You reach for his hair again, but this time, you pull so hard that his red bandana comes off in your hand and reminds you to loosen your hold so as to not overwhelm him with too many sensations. 

“Sorry, I-” You try to apologize but the words trail off when Hunter looks up and shakes his head at you. 

“I don’t mind, sweet thing. Go on, pull as hard as you want.” He leans down and kisses the hand near his head, nipping at your thumb to let you know that he was feeling more than okay. 

“But won’t that-” You don’t want him to feel like he needs to do this for you, but Hunter distracts you again, rubbing at your clit with his thumb to get you to listen to him. 

“Please cyar’ika, let me feel you…everywhere.” Hunter begs you, pushing your thighs apart even more in an attempt to get you to do as he says. He doesn’t wait for a response then, descending down on you again with more passion than you thought him capable of in such a setting, and before you know it, he has you right at the edge with his expert hands and his enthusiastic mouth. You should have known that he’d know what you like quickly, but something about him being so attuned to your responses pushes you closer to your orgasm, and before you know it, you’re shutting your eyes and letting the flood of sensations overtake you. 

“Hmm fuck, that’s it.” You scratch at his scalp as you pull on his hair, the action driving Hunter nearly mad and making him grab at your stomach to keep you planted to his face. 

“Hunter…I- I’m co-” His harsh breathing and how hard he continues to lick at your clit is all you need to fall apart, and as soon as he coils his fingers inside you and rubs your tight walls, you come around him instantly, shaking violently beneath his firm body and screaming nonsense into the damp air of the room. It’s becoming nearly too much, and although you want him to stop, you can’t find it in yourself to push him away, a part of you sensing that he may need this as much as you. So you let him continue his assault on your cunt, and before you realize what’s about to happen, Hunter pulls away and watches as you soak his arms and his bed with your juices. He doesn't let up once, plunging his fingers into you so quickly that you manage to wet even his thighs. When he hears your heart beating impossibly rapidly against your chest, he slows down and removes his hand from you, pulling away and watching as your panties hide you from his eyes again. 

He waits until you look at him before he slowly sucks on each of his fingers, smirking to himself when you hide behind your arms and close your thighs immediately. 

“I changed my mind.” His voice is rough, and you’re not sure if it’s because he’s turned on or because he’s having a difficult time breathing just as you. Then the words settle in your remind and you move your hands away to take a better look at him. 

“W-what?” You don’t have time to grab him as he gets off the bed and reaches for his shirt, throwing it away as well before unzipping his pants and pulling them down his thighs and stepping out of them before kneeling on the bed again. 

“We can do rough later. Right now, I want to watch you come undone…slowly.” He grabs your ankles and pulls them apart, not caring for how blatant he’s being with his staring as he moves towards you again. 

“Fuck baby, you’re gushing for me.” His disbelief sends a shiver down your spine and you softly smack his thigh to get his attention away from your heated core. 

“Hunter, don’t- don’t say stuff like that.”

“And why shouldn’t I?” He narrows his eyes at you, daring you to say anything in disagreement. 

“It’s…embarrassing.” You manage to whisper out, only to have Hunter shamelessly wipe the wetness over your legs with his hand. 

“No, it’s fucking sexy mesh’la….and if I had known taking my shirt off would turn you on this much, I would have walked around naked since you came on board.” He reaches for your hand and you squeal suddenly when he tugs you harshly until you nearly smack his chest. Looking down at you, Hunter bites into his lower lips as he pulls the rest of your shirt away and throws it away, not bothering to push you back into bed when you rest your hands against his naked chest and feel his muscles flex and unflex. 

“Speaking of taking things off…” You try to grab your panties but Hunter stops you, shaking his head and bringing your hand back to his skin. 

“No, keep’em on.” 

“But-”

“These are mine now, and I want nothing more than to smell your cunt and my cum on them…when I take them.” Hunter nods down at the wet article of clothing as he swipes your hair away from your face and softly grazes your bruised lips. 

“Hmph, you’re a shy little thing aren’t you?” He wonders out loud when you turn away from and rest your forehead against his stomach, once again feeling a sense of pride wash over him at being the one to bring such a reaction out of you. 

“Do the honors.” He takes your hands and moves them down his rigid form, not missing the way your breath hitches when you feel the muscles on his stomach flutter at the soft touch of your palms. You don’t dare look up at him as you drag his boxers down his hips until his cock juts out from beneath the elastic. 

“Oh fuck me.” You stop what you’re doing as soon as you see the size of him, and Hunter uses your moment of distraction to his advantage, pushing you back into the bed and moving away to step out of his boxers before returning to you again. 

“Since you asked so nicely.” He remembers the biosheath and finds one in his drawer instantly, but before he can take it out, you take his wrist and bring it back to you. 

“Wait-” You stop him, unsure of what to say now that he was looking at you with such an unreadable expression. 

“You don’t have to- like I said, I haven’t done this in…in a while. And I’ve-” Your attempts to explain to him that you don’t have anything and that you wouldn’t mind it if he didn’t use a biosheath with you evaporate into thin air, and as you give up on trying to relay the message, Hunter shuts the drawer and lays on top of you. One look into his eyes gives you away and you turn from him to avoid whatever embarrassing words you’re sure he’s about to relay to you. 

“You want me to fill you with my seed, little one?” The question is asked in such a low voice that you nearly miss the playfulness in between. You refuse to acknowledge him, afraid of how much he’d drag this out if you told him outright that you wanted to feel him leak out of you. 

“You want me to fuck my cum deep inside your pretty little cunt?” He asks again, this time as he slips his hand in between your bodies and wraps his palm around his hard cock, lazily stroking his length while teasing your clothed clit with the tip of his dick. He goes on for too long, and when you can’t take it anymore, you moan in agreement, hoping that the outburst pushes him to finally, finally, fuck you. 

“O-ohh gods, please…please.” The way he cups himself and teases the both of you nearly sends you into overdrive, and just as you begin to give up hope, Hunter tugs aside your panties, and pushes his cock against your wet folds, giving you a taste of what’s to come. 

“Keep begging baby.”

“Please Hunter…I need you. I- I want you to come inside me, want to feel you all night long.” He was planning on making you cry for him, but the sound of your voice telling him everything he’s heard a thousand times in his dreams sends him reeling and before he can warn you, he pushes his cock into your slit, arms nearly giving out at finally feeling your cunt welcome him in. You arch your back as soon as you feel his thick, hard cock fill you, and although you should be embarrassed at how easily he slides into you, you don’t bother thinking about it, not when Hunter was finally giving you what you’ve been craving. 

“Kriffing hells, you feel so good mesh’la…so tight and hot for me.” He stops moving, the heat of your cunt making him nearly lose his mind and whatever bit of control left in him. 

“Hunter-” You don’t like the fact that he’s stopped pushing into you, but then he moves and you realize that maybe you needed a second to get used to him after all. 

“I know, love. I know, just a little bit more.” Hunter kisses your forehead, lips quivering at the thought of being too much for you to handle. He waits until you’re relaxed a little before he gives you more of his cock, and when you drag your nails across his arms and grab onto his shoulder, he stops again to soothe you. 

“You want to be a good girl for me, don’t you?” 

“Yes…oh maker yes.” Your voice breaks, making Hunter wish you weren’t so kriffing sensitive to him. 

“Then open up for me…take me.” He leaves a trail of wet kisses down your neck, licking and nipping at the taut skin in an attempt to distract you from whatever discomfort you were feeling. 

“Haa…ahh, you’re- so fucking hard.” Your words are unexpected, and Hunter fists his hands tightly into his pillows so he doesn’t do something he’d regret. He unintentionally thrusts the rest of his dick into your pussy, the action knocking the breath out of the both of you and sending a strike of pleasure down your spine.

“Only for you, sweetheart. O-only for you.” Hunter breathes against your chest, cursing at how much better you felt now than in his dreams. He could feel every inch of you squeeze him, and if it weren’t for the fact that you told him it’s been a while, Hunter would have begged to fuck you like he wanted. But it has been a while, and the last thing he wanted to do was to hurt you. When you wince at the slightest of movements, Hunter pulls back and studies you, carefully listening to your heartbeat and looking over you to see if you were too uncomfortable to do this now. 

“Are you okay?” He should be the one asking you this question, not the other way around, and even though a million compliments run through his mind, he barely manages to respond to your question. 

“Fuck, I’m more than okay.” He hisses out as you clench around him, and before he can let you know that he’s not reacting out of pain but of indescribable pleasure, you reach for his hair and tug him down, begging for him to do anything besides remaining still. 

“Then move…” You cross your legs behind his back to tempt him into moving against you, but Hunter remains impossibly still, resting his forehead against yours as he tries to tell you why he’s having a difficult time moving. 

“N-not yet, just let me feel you. Let me…feel all of you.” He hopes it’s enough for you to stop asking him to move, but he should have known better. 

“Is- is it too much?” Your shyness makes itself known again, and Hunter swears beneath his breath because he genuinely didn’t mean to come off so strained in his response. 

“No, it’s- you’re perfect.” It’s both everything he’s feeling and barely an explanation of what he’s reserved for you for so long, but he can’t find any other word to describe what he’s experiencing with you now. You’re about to ask him to keep talking when he finally listens to you and pulls out a little before thrusting back in. 

“Oh.” The simple word riles him up more than he cares to admit, and he sets a slow and sensual pace to calm himself down and give you what you desire. The small room fills with sounds of your harsh breathing and Hunter’s controlled growls, and before you know it, he’s hitting every inch of you in a way that makes you see stars. Then you look at him, and you find his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes shut tightly, and you just know that it’s because he wants to do more with you. 

“Hunter,” you call for him, soothing his back with your hands to let him know that you weren’t going anywhere. 

“Hmm?” His eyes flutter open instantly and you wonder if their color was always so intense and dark, or if this was just a product of what the two of you were doing. 

“Don’t h-hold back.” You cup his neck and pray to the maker that he listens to you.

“I already told you cyare, I want you to fall apart for me…nice and slow.” He pronounces each word with a soft push of his hips against you, and you know then that this would definitely not be the last time you sleep with him. It couldn’t be. 

“But I-”

“I want to commit you to memory. The way your heart skips a beat when I kiss your shoulders,” he leans closer against you and leaves a trail of wet kisses across your sternum to your shoulder, biting it playfully when he notices you trying to move along with him. 

“The way you bite your lips when I pinch with your nipples,” you throw your head back in ecstasy as he pinches your nipple and rolls it in between his thumb and his index finger. 

“The way your eyes shut when I sink my teeth into your skin,” Hunter takes one last look at the pleasure etched on your expression before taking the other hardened peak into his mouth, rolling his tongue around your nipple before biting down harshly just below the reddened skin. 

“The way your cunt clenches around my cock when I pull your hair,” you wrap your arms around his back and pull him flush against you when you feel him comb his fingers into the hair at the nape of your neck and pull harshly on it, the action letting you know that Hunter was most certainly capable of being rough with you, but was choosing to get your body used to his soft touch first. 

“And- fuck…ah fuck, the way your tight walls invite me in deeper when I play with your clit.” He lets go of your hair and slides his hand down your body, squeezing your hips and scratching along your thighs to leave his mark. As soon as you open your eyes and look at him, he begins to draw small circles around your clit, all the while picking up his pace just a little to get you closer to your climax. 

“I want it all baby,” he begs for you, roaming his eyes across your body to get his fill of you before he brings the two of you to the edge. You’re so sensitive from before, but something about having Hunter pay close attention to you makes you welcome whatever he has to offer you. 

“I- I’m close.” You manage to whisper to him as he continues to play with your body, and you realize the mistake you did in your claim when you hear him laugh and pause in his ministrations. 

“Already?” He doesn’t expect you to answer, but you whine his name and roll your hips around to get any form of friction. Hunter is distracted by the movement, and he resumes his attention to your clit, grunting with need when you reach down and scratch his stomach to urge him on. 

“D-don’t tease.”

“Never…never.” He responds immediately, thrusting into you with shallow pushes, already feeling the knot in his stomach slowly unwind the more he feels your heat pull him in. 

“I can feel your fucking heartbeat, can feel it singing for me the harder I fuck you.” Hunter cries out in a mixture of pain and pleasure, sitting up and moving the hand on his stomach down to your clit to get you to touch yourself.

“Please Hunter,” as soon as you start teasing your clit, Hunter grabs both of your hips and fucks into you with slow, languid movements, knowing that if he picks up the pace any further, he’d have you screaming so loud that the rest of the batch may actually hear you. 

“What do you want? Tell me.” There is a layer of sweat covering your body and making Hunter lose his mind. Your scent is more pronounced now that it has ever been, and he’s not sure if he’ll be able to interact with you normally now that he knew what you smelled like as you prayed for him to fuck you harder. 

“I want you to come with me.” Your request storms into Hunter’s mind, making him wish he could just tell you how he feels, how he’s felt for so long. 

“Kriff,” he throws his head back and looks at the ceiling, knowing that tonight would replay in his mind until you came to him and asked him to take you to bed again. 

“So close…so fucking close. Hunter, please…let me feel you come with me. Come inside me.” You grab one of his wrists in an attempt to remain grounded, and Hunter can’t help but whine at the desperation you were trusting him with. Never in his life did he think he’d have you so unabashedly wanton, but here you were, telling him that you wanted nothing more than to feel him come with you. 

“You’re killing me baby.” Hunter growls and looks down at where you’re joined, not caring for how crazed he must appear to you as his hair swings back and forth, and his face shines with sweat. 

“Oh-hhh f…fuck right there-” you scream into the darkening room, no longer able to hold back the pleasure from seizing you and showering you with a most beautiful distraction. 

“Mesh’la, I-” whatever he’s about to say is cut off by your lips as you pull him into you and mold your lips with his own. It’s a hungry kiss, and Hunter prays to the Force that you’re desperate for him out of necessity and not out of simple, physical attraction. He gives you what you want regardless, slipping his tongue into your mouth and surrendering himself to the pleasure just as your walls flutter around his cock and signal your orgasm. Feeling you tighten even harder around him is almost too much, and he doesn’t realize he’s thrusting so violently into you until you break the kiss and scream his name. He fucks into you without abandon, growling your name over and over again until he lets go and falls over the edge with you. You’re aware of how harshly you’re dragging your nails across his back, and before you can apologize for accidentally sending him into a sensory overload, Hunter is falling against you and sinking his teeth into your shoulders, shooting his cum so deep inside you that you feel the warmth of his seed spread across your body. Neither of you stop moving, wanting the other to reach absolute pleasure before you finally slow down. As you come down from your highs, you wonder if you should ask Hunter what he was going to say right before he came, but you get distracted by the way he begins to slowly move off of you. 

“No wait,” he’s about to move off of you when you throw your arms around his neck and keep him flush against you. You can almost feel his heartbeat sound against your chest, and you’re sure he can hear your own singing for him, but you pay no mind to it, instead focusing on the heat of his skin as it slides against yours. 

“Stay.” You ask once, hoping that he’d listen to you without wondering why you wanted to have him crush you with his weight. 

“Wrap your arms around me tightly.” He says after a while, and as soon as he knows you did as he said, he slips his hands beneath you and holds onto you as he rolls around. The action shifts his cock inside you, and both of you moan out in unison at the shock of oversensitivity that strikes across your spines. He is careful when he moves again, and once he’s comfortable on his back, he slides his hand up your body and grabs your neck. You pull back to look into his eyes, offering him a lazy smile before resting your cheek on his chest again. 

“Does this feel good?”

“I- I liked your weight on me…but yes, this is nice.” You decide not to lie to him, knowing that he may misunderstand your answer if you didn’t give him the whole truth. 

“Noted.” You can hear the smirk in his own voice and snuggle closer into him, not realizing that your playing with his hair until he nuzzles closer into your hands.

“Stay as long as you like, ad’ika.”

You make a mental note of asking him what all of those words mean later, but for now, you surrender to his embrace and the gentle touches he continued to grace you with. Neither of you say anything else as you relish the sweetness of the moment, and before long, you notice that Hunter’s heart was beating much faster than it should. You’ve been sitting without much movement for a long time, so you wonder briefly why his heart was threatening to leap out of his chest. The thought of being the reason behind such a reflex makes you think differently of Hunter, and you hope that your hunch is right or else you’ll end up making a fool out of yourself when you ask him to take you to bed again. 

Just thinking of doing this again with Hunter sends your spiraling and you unintentionally clench around him, but this time, you realize that he’s grown hard again. In fact, you could feel him pulsing inside of you, and you hope he doesn’t sense the shift in your body or else you’d have to explain to him why you were getting wet again. 

“Don’t forget our little agreement sweet girl. I told you I’d know if you were thinking of him.” Hunter breaks the silence suddenly, and you frown at the sentiment, not because it was far from the truth, but because Hunter thought you were thinking of Tech and not him. 

“I didn’t forget.” You pull away and pout at him, wanting him to see that you clearly weren’t lying to him. 

“Then what’s making your heart race so suddenly?” It’s the first time Hunter asks a question that he clearly doesn’t know the answer to, but when you look away from him and draw strange patterns over his chest, he knows instantly what it was you’re thinking about. 

“Interesting…” You roll your eyes at him, unable to hold back from giggling along with him when he cracks a smile and laughs at your obvious irritation. 

“H-Hunter,” you break the moment and gulp nervously when he meets your eyes and gives you his undivided attention. 

“Yes, mesh’la?” If there was ever a moment where Hunter was at his most peaceful, you think it may be this one. 

“Kiss me? Please?” You’re reluctant in your request, unsure of whether he’d draw the line here now that you weren’t actively trying to fuck each other. But as he’s done so many times in the past few hours, he surprises you with an answer that you’d later pinpoint as the first time you truly felt something deeper than attraction for him. 

“Never ask for what’s already yours, cyare.”

[aynavaano]

Good boy

Kinktober ‘24 - face sitting/submission

Hunter × F!reader

Rating: Explicit

Wordcount: 2k

Summary: You're part of the Bad Batch for a while and the tension between you and Hunter is about to snap.

Notes: This is the first time writing sub!Hunter and I have to credit @bring-backup-99 for making me fall in love with the idea of Hunter subbing. This fic is also meant as a little gift for you, for treating us so well to now already over 50!!! chapters of Bad Choices, I hope you like it. Tags: mutual pinning, sub! and simping Hunter, face sitting, oral f receiving. This is one of a few shorter fics I wrote for Kinktober. If you have any special kink and clone you would love to see, my requests are open.

It started innocently enough - fleeting glances, soft smiles exchanged when no one was looking - but it wasn't long before the tension between you and Hunter became impossible to ignore. He was always there, watching you with that quiet intensity, the unspoken need burning in his eyes. It drove you crazy, the way he hovered close, always attentive, always trying to make sure you were safe and taken care of.

But it wasn't just his protectiveness that got to you.

No, it was the way he looked at you.

Like he wanted to devour you. And that face - his strong, sharp features, that jawline, and his nose. The way his nose curved, slightly prominent and perfectly shaped. You couldn't stop thinking about it. How it would feel pressed between your legs, grinding against you while his mouth worked you over.

You'd fantasized about riding his face more times than you could count, imagining his tongue buried inside you, your hands tugging his hair while you used his nose to rub yourself to climax. His face, especially his nose, just looked so... rideable.

And the way he practically worshiped you with his eyes every time you were around, you knew he wanted it too. He seemed so desperate to please you.

Today the ship was quiet, the others out on a supply run, leaving just you and Hunter alone with not much to do. It had been a while since the two of you had been alone, and the silence between you had grown thick during the last hour, filled with the weight of your unspoken desires.

Hunter paced around the ship restlessly, pretending to do repairs. You watched him from your seat, biting back a smile at how worked up he was getting. He’d been trying to hide it for weeks, the way he looked at you, how his gaze lingered just a little too long. But you saw through him — you always did.

Finally, he stopped, running a hand through his hair he took a deep breath.

"I can’t do this anymore," he admitted, voice rough with frustration. His eyes were pleading, searching for any kind of relief.

You raised an eyebrow, acting innocent. “Do what, exactly?”

He turned to face you fully, swallowing hard before speaking.

“Pretending that there’s nothing happening between us. That I’m not thinking about you every damn second and slowly loosing my mind.”

The vulnerability in his voice made your heart skip, but you didn’t let it show. Instead, you crossed your legs slowly, watching his eyes flicker down to the movement, and you saw how his throat bobbed as he swallowed again.

“And what do you expect me to do about that?”

His shoulders tensed, you could see how hard he was holding himself back.

“Anything. Whatever you want,” he said, almost breathless. “Just—" He paused, his voice dropping into a desperate whisper, "I need you.”

You leaned back, allowing the power to shift in your favor. The way he looked at you, so raw and needy, sent a wave of heat through you. You had him exactly where you wanted.

“You need me?” you repeated slowly, savoring the way he hung on your every word.

Hunter nodded, his eyes wide, waiting, like a man on the edge, desperate for permission.

“Please,” he rasped.

You took your time, letting him sweat under your gaze.

A smile played on your lips as you stood up, moving toward him, savoring the way his breath hitched with each step. You stopped just inches from him, looking up into his beautiful golden brown eyes.

Hunter let his hands slide up your sides, gripping you like he was afraid you'd slip away.

"Want to see you fall apart for me," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear, inhaling your scent.

"Want to taste you," he breathed out, the words tumbling from his lips with no hesitation.

The thought sent heat straight to your core, but you didn't plan on making it easy for him. You leaned back, looking into his eyes, enjoying the way he seemed so desperate for your approval.

“Then get on your back,” you said softly, watching the way his body tensed with anticipation, his eyes widening at the command.

“And take off your shirt”

He hesitated for only a second before obeying, stripping the top part of his blacks and lying down on one of the bunks, his eyes never leaving yours. His chest rose and fell rapidly, the anticipation making him tense in every part of his body.

You’ve seen him topless before but he looked even better now, so eager for you, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on his caramel skin emphasizing his tattoo running down his chest and you noticed he was already sporting a prominent bulge. His blacks did a poor job at hiding it and you had to bite back a groan. The outline of his cock looked promising.

His broad form was sprawled across the narrow mattress, hands resting casually behind his head and his dark brown locks were slightly tousled but there was a tension in his jaw and the barely-restrained hunger in his gaze was impossible to miss.

You started by pulling your shirt over your head, your skin tingling under his intense stare. His breath hitched, though he stayed silent, watching.

You teased him, unbuttoning your pants slowly, sliding them down inch by inch until they pooled at your feet. Hunter shifted, his eyes trailing down your body.

Your fingers reached behind to unclasp your bra, letting it drop to the floor. The weight of his gaze was almost too much to bear, heat building low in your belly as you felt exposed in the best way.

Finally, you hooked your thumbs into the sides of your panties and slipped them down your legs, standing before him, completely bare.

Hunter didn't move right away, but the look in his eyes said everything - pure, raw need.

You relished the way his eyes darkened with desire, his control slipping as he took in every inch of your exposed skin. The cold air of the Marauder’s ventilation made you shiver, your nipples hardening from the sudden chill. It felt good to have such an effect on him.

With one step you closed the gap between you and reached behind his head to loosen his bandana. Before he could react you snatched it and with one swift motion you ran it through your soaked folds and threw it to the floor.

"Kriff," he growled dangerously, sitting up, reaching for you. "Please…"

“Please what?”

"I want you."

The desperation in his voice, the way he hung onto your every word, made you bolder. You pushed him back down and climbed onto the bunk, straddling his chest, your knees on either side of his head. You could feel the tension radiating off him, his hands hovering near your legs but not quite touching.

"Is this what you wanted?" you teased, leaning down slightly, your pussy hovering just above his mouth.

You could feel the heat of his breath on your skin, his anticipation building with every second but not daring to touch you, not yet.

"Yes," he groaned, his voice thick with need.

His nose brushed against your inner thigh, and you shivered, your body responding to the feeling of his sharp features so close to where you wanted him. And you would get there, but you wanted to drag this out, make him wait a little longer.

“Such a beautiful pussy", he whimpered.

You couldn't help but imagine what it would feel like to grind down on him, to ride his nose and make him watch as you used him for your own pleasure.

"I know you've been thinking about it for weeks, devouring me with your eyes", you murmured, running your fingers through his thick, curly hair, tugging slightly and earning a moan from him in return.

"Yes," he gasped, his hands twitching at his sides, "…been dreaming about it too... please, I need you."

“What is it that you want Hunter? Use your words.”

“I want you, want to touch you…to taste you, want to bury my cock in your pussy…I…I…anything…just let me make you come”

“So desperate” you said softly, “If you’ll be good Hunter, maybe I’ll let you fuck me. But first…”

You smiled, your heart racing as you finally lowered yourself onto his mouth, feeling his lips part eagerly and he licked a slow, deliberate line up your folds. His tongue was hot, wet, and perfect, and you let out a shaky breath as the sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through your body.

"Just like that," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly.

Hunter groaned against you, his hands finally coming up to grip your thighs, holding you in place as he devoured you like a man starved. His tongue flicked against your clit, teasing and circling as he sucked and licked, his nose pressing firmly against your mound. The feel of it, the pressure of his nose grinding against you as he worked his tongue deeper, was everything you'd imagined.

“Good boy”, you whimpered and earned a moan from him in return.

You started to move, grinding your pussy down against his face, riding his tongue and nose as he eagerly took everything you gave him. His moans vibrated through you, and you could feel how much he loved this - how much he loved being used, being under you, pleasing you, worshipping you with his mouth.

"Yes," you moaned, lewd sounds falling from your lips, your fingers tightening and tugging his hair as you moved faster, feeling the tension coil tighter in your core.

"You're doing so good, Hunter... so good for me."

His grip on your thighs tightened, his breath coming in heavy pants between licks as he worked harder, desperate to make you come.

"Please come for me," he mumbled, his voice barely audible against your wetness. "Please... let me make you fall apart."

The sound of him begging, his tongue buried inside you, his nose grinding perfectly against your clit - it was delicious. Your hips moved faster, chasing your release as you rode his face, using him for your pleasure. You could feel the tension in your body snap, your orgasm crashing over you as you ground down hard against his mouth.

“Don’t hold back mesh’la, make a mess of me”

"Fuck, Hunter," you gasped, your body trembling as the pleasure surged through you, wave after wave of ecstasy. You could feel him groaning beneath you, his tongue continuing to work you through your orgasm, drawing out every last bit of pleasure.

Before overstimulation settled in you pulled back slightly, still high on dopamine and out of breath. When you peeked down at him he looked absolutely beautiful. His face was glistening with your juices, his lips and chin soaked from devouring you. His eyes were half-lidded, his expression completely blissed out, like he'd just tasted heaven and couldn't get enough.

Your thighs still shook around his head when you slowly came down from your high and lowered yourself onto his chest. You leaned back reaching for his cock, he felt good, big and with a nice girth, you shuddered thinking about how good he would fill you, but you were pulled out of your thoughts when your felt something wet. You glanced down, surprised to see a dark stain spreading across the lower part of his blacks, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he panted beneath you.

He'd come.

He'd come just from eating you out.

You smirked, sliding off of him, watching as he blinked up at you, his cheeks flushed, his lips swollen and glistening with your arousal. You settled in beside him resting your head on his chest.

"Looks like you enjoyed yourself," you teased, brushing a hand over the tip of his cock and the wet spot on his pants. Hunter groaned, slipping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. You nuzzled his neck with your nose, he smelled heavenly.

"I couldn't help it”, he admitted, his voice rough. "You're just... you're so everything I ever wanted."

You smiled, leaning up to kiss him softly.

“Who would have thought you could be so obedient, Hunter”, you murmured against his lips, letting your fingers trail through the soft hair on his chest.

"Maybe next time... I'm going to ride you properly, I bet that dick is going to feel so good."

His eyes darkened, a satisfied smile curling at the edges of his lips.

“Give me twenty minutes and I’ll show you what that dick can do.”

[meshla-cyarika]

Instantly thought this during this scene 💀

[coffeeandbatboys]

The Clones reacting to you smushing their cheeks

Idk I had this idea and thought it’d be cute. Since the clones are supposed to have round cheeks, visualize live action and not animated 😂

Warnings: none, just fluff.

Fives, Wrecker, Hardcase, & Tup: Loving it so much, will lean into your hands and give you heart eyes. Maybe even press a few kisses to your hand.

Cody, Jesse, Kix, Echo, Vaughn & Mayday: Will blush profusely and look side to side for a second, before giving in and flashing you a tiny smile.

Rex, Hunter, Tech, & Fox: Not sure what to do, just give an awkward smile and internally scream because they secretly find it super cute.

Crosshair, Wolffe & Dogma: Not understanding any of it. Don’t know what you’re doing, not sure that they like it, 3/10 do not recommend.

[areyoufuckingcrazy]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do a TBB x Fem!Reader +any other clones of your choice, where they keep using pet names in mandoa like cyar'ika, mesh'la, and maybe even riduur?(because they might’ve gotten accidentally married? Love those tropes)

but the reader has no idea what they mean and that they’re pet names or that the batch likes her. Eventually she finds out of course and a bunch of stuttering cute confessions?

Your writing is so amazing and i literally can’t get enough of it! Xx

“Say It Again?”

TBB x Fem!Reader

You had gotten used to the way clones talked — the gruffness, the slang, the camaraderie. But ever since you’d been working more closely with Clone Force 99, you’d noticed something… different.

They used weird words around you. Words you didn’t hear other troopers saying.

Hunter always greeted you with a gentle “Cyar’ika,” accompanied by that intense little half-smile of his.

Wrecker would beam and shout, “Mesh’la! You came!” every time you entered a room — like you were some goddess descending from the stars.

Crosshair, as always, was smug and cool, throwing in a soft “Riduur…” under his breath when he thought you weren’t listening, though you never figured out what it meant. He often smirked when you looked confused, and somehow that made it worse.

Even Tech, who rarely used nicknames at all, had let slip a casual “You’re quite remarkable, mesh’la,” when you helped him debug his datapad. He didn’t look up, but you felt the heat in his voice.

And Echo? Sweet, dependable Echo — he was the least subtle of them all.

“You alright, cyar’ika?”

“You look tired, cyar’ika.”

“Get some rest, cyar’ika.”

You were starting to think “Cyar’ika” meant your actual name.

But something was off. The others never used those words with each other. Only with you.

So, naturally, you asked Rex.

And Rex choked on his caf.

“You—what did Crosshair call you?” he coughed, wiping his chin.

You repeated it: “Rid…uur? I think? I dunno. He said it real low.”

Rex gave you the slowest blink you’d ever seen and then rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Riduur means… spouse. As in… wife. It’s what you call your partner.”

You froze. “What?!”

“And cyar’ika?” he continued, amused. “Sweetheart. Mesh’la is ‘beautiful.’ They’re… Mando’a pet names. Very affectionate.”

The blushing.

The flashbacks.

All those words… those looks… Tech calling you remarkable like it was a scientific fact, Crosshair smirking like he had secrets, Echo’s voice dropping a full octave every time he said cyar’ika…

You marched straight into the Havoc Marauder like a woman on a mission — and promptly forgot how to speak when all five of them looked up at you.

“…You okay, mesh’la?” Hunter asked gently.

You blinked. Your voice cracked. “…You’ve been calling me sweetheart?”

The room went dead silent.

Echo dropped his ration bar.

Wrecker panicked. “Wait—you didn’t know?”

Crosshair chuckled and leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “Told you she didn’t know.”

Tech frowned at him. “Statistically, the odds of her knowing were—”

“You called me your wife,” you said, pointing at Crosshair like he’d committed a war crime.

He shrugged. “Didn’t hear you complain.”

You stammered something completely unintelligible, covering your face with both hands, and Wrecker let out the loudest, happiest laugh you’d ever heard. “So… does that mean you like us back?”

You peeked through your fingers. “…Us?”

Hunter stepped forward slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “We all… kinda do. Like you. A lot.”

You were red. Like, fruit-on-Ryloth red. “You’re telling me five elite clones have been flirting with me in another language this whole time?!”

“…Yes,” they all mumbled at once.

Crosshair grinned like he’d won a bet. “So… Riduur?”

“Riduur?” Crosshair repeated, lifting a brow like it was nothing. Like he hadn’t just dropped a romantic thermal detonator right in front of everyone.

You stared at him. At all of them.

Hunter’s quiet guilt. Echo’s embarrassed fidgeting. Wrecker’s hopeful puppy-dog smile. Tech’s analytical interest. And Crosshair’s smug little smirk that you really wanted to slap off his face… or maybe kiss.

You swallowed. “I—I need a second.”

And then promptly turned on your heel and walked right back out of the Marauder.

⸻

You spent the rest of the day spiraling.

Sweetheart. Beautiful. Wife.

They’d been calling you those for weeks. Months, maybe. You were out here thinking it was some fun cultural expression or inside joke you weren’t in on—and it turns out you were the joke. The target. Of five clone commandos’… affection?

It didn’t feel like a joke, though. It felt sincere. Soft. Safe.

And scary.

Because you liked them. All of them. Differently, but genuinely. The thought of them caring about you—of whispering pet names they grew up hearing in the most intimate, personal ways—made your chest ache in a way you didn’t know how to handle.

⸻

The next day, you avoided them.

The next day, they let you.

The third day, Hunter found you in the mess hall, sat beside you without a word, and handed you a steaming mug of caf.

You looked at him.

He didn’t speak right away. Then: “We’re sorry. If we made you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” you blurted out. “I just… didn’t know how to react. I’m still trying to figure it out.”

Hunter nodded, eyes kind. “We can stop. The nicknames, I mean.”

You hesitated. “No. I don’t want you to stop.”

He smiled, just a little. “You sure?”

You nodded. “I think I like them. I just… I want to know what they mean now.”

⸻

So, one by one, the boys showed you.

Wrecker said “mesh’la” every time you helped him carry heavy crates, with a goofy grin that made your stomach flip.

Echo said “cyar’ika” after every quiet conversation, letting the word linger like a promise he wasn’t ready to say aloud yet.

Tech, precise as always, began to offer direct translations.

“You look stunning today, mesh’la—objectively, of course.”

Crosshair didn’t stop with “riduur.” He started calling you “cyar’ika” too—softly, in rare unguarded moments—and he never looked away when he said it. Like he meant it. Like he knew what it was doing to you.

And Hunter? Hunter started saying “ner cyar’ika.” My sweetheart.

⸻

It wasn’t instant.

But slowly, their voices stopped making you flustered—and started making you feel home.

You started saying their names softer. Started touching their arms when you passed. Started blushing less… and smiling more.

And one day, while standing beside Wrecker during maintenance, you reached up on your toes, kissed his cheek, and whispered, “Thanks, cyare.”

He blinked. His whole face lit up like a nova. “You said it back!”

Later, you caught Echo outside the ship. Nervous, swaying slightly on his heels. You pressed your hand into his and whispered, “You can keep calling me cyar’ika, you know.”

He looked down at you with wide eyes. “You really don’t mind?”

You shook your head. “I like it.”

And Tech, when you repeated “mesh’la” with a teasing little lilt, glanced at you and—just this once—forgot what he was doing.

Even Crosshair dropped his toothpick when you looked him dead in the eye and whispered: “You keep calling me your riduur. What does that make you, then?”

He blinked. Once. Then smiled. Really smiled. “Yours.”

⸻

By the time you curled up beside Hunter one quiet night, your head on his shoulder and his hand tracing slow circles on your back, he murmured “ner cyar’ika” and you didn’t freeze or stammer.

You just smiled.

Because now you knew.

And you finally, finally understood that you’d never been the joke.

You’d always been the reason they smiled.

[dindjarindiaries]

Say Something

summary: Your peaceful life on Pabu was bought by a hard-fought battle, and the last thing you want to do is disturb it by confessing your unrequited feelings for Hunter. What you don’t know is that he feels the same exact way.

pairing: hunter (the bad batch) x reader

tags: mutual pining, post-s3/finale, tech lives, angst with a happy ending, perspective switches, mutual jealousy, alcohol, banter, love confessions, hunter is bad at feelings (but he’s trying), hunter is omega’s parent, protective hunter

rating: T

word count: 10.470k

main masterlist • hunter masterlist

You woke up just as the Pabu sun was starting to rise, for once feeling just as peaceful as the sight of it was on the horizon through your bedroom’s viewport. That was a rare feat these days, no matter how much time had passed since your final battle.

Resigning yourself to your awakened state, you got up and prepared for the day. There wasn’t much you, or the others for that matter, had going on, but there was a community event in the heart of town tonight. You had already agreed to go, and it was no doubt Wrecker’s scene, too. He was the most social of the group, after all.

With the two of you slated to be there, it wasn’t hard to guess who else would be coming along. His protective tendencies had only seemed to worsen after Tantiss, but you couldn’t blame him.

If all was as usual right now, however, everyone would still be asleep. If anyone else was actually awake, it would be Crosshair, but he would be roaming the shore with Batcher if that were the case. With that in mind, you carried yourself quietly out of the room into the upstairs corridor of the squad’s shared home.

That was still something you were getting used to. After countless months spent living out of a ship, it was unreal to have somewhere you could truly call a home. You would do anything to preserve its sacredness.

Even ignore the storm of complicated feelings for a certain someone inside the house that had long since been brewing inside of you.

As if to mock you, a dim light glowed out into the corridor from one of the refresher doorways, which had been left open. You lifted your brow in curiosity, stepping forward with weightless feet as you tiptoed closer to see who was inside without disturbing them.

You were thankful you had kept yourself as quiet as possible, because the refresher was currently being occupied by the person who had the highest chance of hearing you no matter what—and the same person you had just been thinking about. The relief was short-lived as the scene of what you were witnessing fully sunk in.

Hunter must have just hit the shower. His scarred upper half was still steaming as he tended to his hair in a gentle way that brought a mindless smile to your lips. For so long during the war, he hadn’t been able to take care of his hair the way it truly deserved; the last few months on Pabu had changed that. Now, his natural curls were allowed to shine.

That and everything else he offered would have been enough to keep you staring, but what continued to captivate your wandering eye were the maneuvers of his careful, practiced, and calloused fingers.

You weren’t used to seeing them so vulnerable when the former sergeant had almost always had them covered by his gloves. It wasn’t a sight you ever would get used to. Even just the thought of them brought a blistering warmth to your face and the tips of your ears, and the longer you stared, the more it burned.

Something in your chest pulled tight, as if there was an invisible tether between the two of you. You wanted so badly to see where it led, to find out if it was inside your own mind or something shared between you, but the peace you had achieved kept you from saying anything. Ruining everything he especially had worked to give you and the others was your worst fear.

That’s why you settled for this, lingering like his shadow as your eyes carved swirling designs into the skin of his fingers and the rippling muscles on his scarred upper half. You stayed just out of sight as you did so, barely able to see his eyes in the reflector as he watched his work carefully.

Then, for a fraction of a second that left you breathless, the reflection of his amber gaze flickered to yours.

Immediately, that burning warmth rushed down into your neck, and you turned on your heel to walk back towards your room. Of course, it would do nothing to stop him from addressing you in his usual low timbre.

“You’re up earlier than usual.”

You hummed, hiding the breath you took for composure, and turned back around to face him. You crossed your arms over your chest to keep him from seeing the heart you had accidentally been wearing on your sleeve. “I could say the same to you.”

Hunter let out an amused huff. One of his hands was set on his hip as his other side leaned against the doorway, and he tilted his head while his gaze regarded you with a fondness you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

All the while, you were trying not to visibly marvel at the sight of his hair falling freely without his bandana. It wasn’t a style he wore often at all—even on the island, he still wore a newer, woven bandana to keep his curls in place—but it was fitting on him. Liberating, even. It was a sight you wanted to get used to.

“So.” You tapped your fingers along your arms and raised your brow. “What’s got you rising with the sun?”

Hunter lifted a single eyebrow, matching the corner of his mouth that also rose in a slow, sly motion. “Considering you’ve been watching me for the last few minutes… I think you know.”

You fought off the warmth that attempted to overpower you as you shrugged. “Maybe I was just waiting for the ‘fresher.”

“There are other ‘freshers you could use.”

“Yeah, but this one’s my favorite.”

“Just like me, huh?”

You gave your eyes a dramatic roll, despite the way his words tightened the knot inside your chest. “You keep telling yourself that.”

Hunter chuckled and shook his head, jostling some of the curls he had just set. Your gaze softened at the sight before you could stop it. “Now, what about you?” Hunter’s expression grew more serious as he nodded at you. “Why are you up?” His warm gaze gave you a quick yet cautious once-over. “You feeling okay?”

You nodded to reassure him. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine today.”

Hunter’s brow furrowed. “‘Today?’ Is something usually wrong?”

The pure concern in his voice made you feel safer than anything or anyone else in the galaxy ever could, but you quickly reminded yourself that he treated the rest of his family the same way. “I mean, I’m pretty sure that’s the case with all of us after…”

You hesitated to actually say the word. You hadn’t had it half as bad as Hunter did inside Tantiss, and you were reluctant to make him remember everything he had been through. You bit back a wince as you watched him avert his gaze for a few moments, his amber eyes glossing over with a haunted look before he circled his jaw and refocused.

“Fair point.” Hunter lifted himself from the doorway and straightened as his gaze pierced yours. “But you know you can always talk to me if you need to.”

You offered him a small smile and nodded. “I know.” You tightened your grasp on your arms and looked down at your feet. “You’ve got enough going on as it is, though, and I can manage it just fine on my own.”

Most of the time. It wouldn’t do Hunter any good to mention the times where you woke up utterly breathless and trembling from the terrors that haunted your mind relentlessly, especially when he was at the center of them all. If he learned that the torture he endured had also become your own torment, he would take responsibility for it—and you simply wouldn’t let him.

Hunter let out a soft sigh and took a small step closer to you. “You don’t have to do it alone.”

You looked back up at him. The depths of Hunter’s gaze were still plagued by hauntings he was clearly trying to hide, something that made concern flicker within your own chest as you gently raised your brow at him. “Neither do you.”

Hunter broke your stare, his gaze searching as he looked at the floor beside you. You let out a sigh soft enough that Hunter might not have even caught it with his delicate senses. The two of you made quite the sorry pair when it came to sharing feelings, in more ways than just one.

But one of those ways was just you.

The least you could do for him now was find an appropriate topic switch. Your gaze, unsurprisingly, continued to study him up close, catching specifically on his tightened jaw. He had always left behind just a touch of stubble while shaving, but it was clear he was starting to grow it out more here on the island. You smiled again and spoke up into the silence.

“Looks like you’re trying something new.”

Hunter’s gaze flickered back to you, his brow creased in silent questioning. You resisted the urge to reach forward and brush your fingers along his jaw, instead resolving to tap your own.

His eyes flashed with understanding, and there may have been a flush that appeared over his cheeks, though it was hard to tell in the dimmer lighting of the corridor. “Yeah. Yeah, I just… I got lazy with it one day, then decided to keep taking it further.” Hunter offered his best nonchalant shrug.

You let out a soft hum of approval. “I like it.”

Hunter’s shoulders lifted in a movement so subtle you would’ve missed it if you had blinked. “You do?”

You fought off a chuckle at his pure disbelief and nodded. “I do.” You let that sound of amusement out as you gave his bare shoulder a playful punch. “And I bet all the townsfolk who definitely have secret crushes on you are gonna love seeing it tonight.”

Hunter huffed and shook his head, running his hand over the back of his neck in clear embarrassment. “You’ve gotten as bad as them with that, you know.” He gestured with his head to the other sealed bedroom doors.

You let out another soft laugh and shrugged. “It’s true.”

Hunter sighed and gave his eyes a half-hearted roll. “It is not.”

You grinned. “Yes it is!”

“You think it’s funny, but it’s not.” Hunter’s growing smile betrayed his words.

“I’m not trying to be funny. I’m just telling the truth.”

The sound of a door opening in the corridor split the air, but neither you nor Hunter paid it any mind as he continued your banter. “That’s not the truth, though. You’re all making that up.”

You let out a scoff and shook your head. “No we’re not!”

Hunter set his hands on his hips and lifted his brow. “Yes, you are.”

“And why would we lie?”

Hunter gave his head a shake as he let out a heavy sigh. “Either way, it doesn’t matter.”

Your heart stalled in your chest as you gave him an inquisitive look. “Why not?”

Before Hunter could say anything, a shadow suddenly moved into the space between you. You had to take a step back to make enough room for them—just to realize it wasn’t a shadow, but was, in fact, Crosshair, who was headed for the nearby staircase.

Crosshair continued his stride as if the two of you hadn’t even been standing there, close enough to one another that you had to physically create more distance for him to fit. Both you and Hunter watched him go before you turned back to each other. Hunter’s smile was shy as he took a step back past the refresher’s threshold.

“I’ll be done soon.” With that, Hunter hit the panel on the inside of the refresher and closed the door.

You stood there, blinking into the sudden darkness of the corridor without the dim lighting of the refresher, as you recollected yourself. You hadn’t noticed how close you and Hunter had gotten, not until Crosshair passing by had made you realize it.

You wished that neither of you had noticed, because there was no telling how much closer you might have gotten if you hadn’t.

You inhaled a steady breath as you turned away from the door and continued towards the stairs. Following Crosshair’s path, you made your way downstairs and into the conjoined kitchen and living area. The sniper was already there, brewing a pot of caf as you leaned against the counter in your best nonchalant act.

“Morning.”

Crosshair cut his gaze at you. “Hmm.” He pressed a button on the caf machine and turned around to face you. “I thought you would’ve taken longer.”

You blinked at him as your lips parted in surprise. It took a few silent moments for you to even find the words to say in response. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Crosshair crossed his arms, his stare never once leaving yours as he slowly lifted a single eyebrow. “Nothing.” He took a toothpick from a nearby glass cylinder on the counter and balanced it between his lips.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You wouldn’t have said something like that without a reason.”

Crosshair twirled the toothpick and shrugged. “You’re smart, aren’t you?” He lifted the toothpick and studied it closer than he had to. “You’ll figure it out on your own.”

You pursed your lips, but said nothing. Crosshair set the toothpick back where it was and turned to take two mugs from a nearby cabinet.

“Or… you’ll keep acting like an idiot.”

You sputtered as you pushed yourself off the counter and frowned at him. “Did you just call me an idiot?”

“No.” Crosshair turned to face you again. There was no hiding the clear amusement that tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I said you’re acting like one.” He pointed at you with his toothpick. “There’s a difference.”

You set your hands on your hips and furrowed your brow. “And how exactly am I acting like an idiot to you?”

Crosshair huffed, the best version of a laugh you could ever hope to get from him, and tilted his head. “By pretending you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

You palmed your forehead. “You’re not making any sense.”

Crosshair’s amusement flickered into frustration as he rolled his eyes. “Sure.” He spun back around to face the caf as it finished brewing. “You keep telling yourself that.”

You let out a sigh as your hand slipped from your forehead. Crosshair filled both mugs in silence, but the gears of your mind kept turning. Once Crosshair finished and handed one of the mugs off to you, you held it between your hands and stared into the steaming liquid. Your voice was hushed as you broke the silence.

“It wouldn’t matter, anyway.”

Crosshair hummed in acknowledgement. “Now you’re the one that’s not making sense.”

You huffed and set your mug down onto the counter, opening the cooler to grab the bantha milk. “If I faced the truth.” You removed the lid on the canister and poured it into the mug. “It’s only my truth.” You shook your head and resealed the canister. “I don’t want to break our peace here.”

“You’re not serious, are you?”

You leveled Crosshair with a glare from over the cooler door before you closed it. “What makes you think I’m lying?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Crosshair drew a long sip from his caf as if it wasn’t still hot enough to burn his throat. “Just the fact that I saw something entirely different with my own eyes this morning.”

You frowned at him from behind the rim of your mug. “That wasn’t anything. We were just…” You paused, your gaze searching as you tried to find the words.

“Exactly.” Crosshair huffed and swirled his mug around. The amused smile was back on his lips. “You can’t even think of an excuse.”

Your ears burned as you offered him an unamused frown. “Whatever. You’re just trying to make me feel better.”

Crosshair gave you an unimpressed look. “You really think that I would do something like that?”

You pondered his words for a moment. “That’s… true, actually.”

Crosshair snickered and shook his head, his smug smile disappearing behind his mug as he drew another sip from it. Meanwhile, your gaze was left searching the floor beneath your feet. Crosshair’s words had gotten you far too lost inside your own mind, and you were desperate to find a way out before the feelings trapped deep within you got even more overwhelming.

You tapped your fingers along your mug and gracefully switched topics. “I’m surprised Omega isn’t up yet.”

Crosshair remained as unbothered as usual while he offered his response. “That’s because she isn’t here.”

Your brow shot up. “She’s not?” When Crosshair gave his head a small shake, you let out a soft hum. “She stayed at Phee and Tech’s last night, then?”

“That’s the only place she’s allowed to stay at overnight other than here.”

You let out a huff. “True.” You gestured to Crosshair with your mug. “Shep’s too, though.”

Crosshair hummed to acknowledge you. In the brief silence, you looked towards the stairs.

“I’m surprised Hunter didn’t end up staying there with her.”

Crosshair made a low sound of amusement that was quickly muffled by the sound of him sipping his caf. “Why else would he be up this early?”

Your stare returned to the sniper. “What do you mean?”

Crosshair’s metallic hand tapped his mug once, then twice. “He’s going to pick her up and walk her home.”

You let out a sigh at that, though the sound was too fond to be one of any true annoyance. “She would be just fine walking here by herself. They’re just a few streets over.”

Crosshair gestured with his chin to the stairs. “Try telling him that.”

You exhaled sharply through your nose. “Fair point.” Your attention returned to the stairs, where a faint glow had illuminated the corridor again. Your lips widened in a subconscious smile. “I think I’ll go with him.”

“Naturally.” You didn’t have to look at Crosshair to know that he was smiling. The smugness of it was evident in his tone.

Still, you cut him a look just as the stairs began to creak. You willed your sudden racing heart to calm down and hid behind your mug by drawing a sip of your caf. When you lowered it, you were greeted with the sight of Hunter leaning into the kitchen area to look between you and Crosshair.

“I’m headed to Tech and Phee’s to get Omega.” He gestured with his head to the front door. “I won’t be long.”

You spoke up before your shyness could take a hold of you. “Want some company?” You lifted the mug in your hand. “I’ll take my caf on the go.”

The corners of Hunter’s mouth rose in a small smile. “Sure.” His warm gaze flickered over to his youngest brother. “Cross?”

You also looked at the sniper, whose gaze flitted between the two of you before he shook his head. “I don’t remember offering my services as an escort.”

Hunter rolled his eyes and stepped fully into the living area. You threw Crosshair a look, but all you got was yet another sly smile in return. Your ears began to burn once again as you followed Hunter over to the door. It slid open, and he gestured for you to walk through the open threshold first.

As you stepped through, Hunter’s hand brushed over your back, a phantom touch that was just firm enough to intensify the warmth that blazed beneath the skin of your face and neck. The quick gesture left you silently reeling even as the two of you started to make your way down Pabu’s stone streets.

The sun had risen higher, but there were still streaks of pink, orange, and purple in the blue sky overhead. The smell of the salt sea drifted on the breeze that tugged at Hunter’s curls, which bounced lightly with each step he took as you stole a look over at him. It took a lot of effort to look away, especially as the warmth of the morning sun radiated off his skin and his amber eyes.

“I have to say, I’m surprised you didn’t stay with Omega.” You held your mug in both hands and stared ahead as you broke your peaceful silence.

Hunter let out a soft exhale. “I’m… trying to be better about giving her space.” His lips tightened into a firm line. “It’s not fair to her for me to be around all the time.” He shrugged. “And it’s Tech and Phee. She’s in good hands there. Safe hands.”

You softened as you glanced over at him. “I don’t think Omega would ever blame you for wanting to watch over her.”

“You’re probably right.” Hunter’s bare fingers fluttered at his sides, no doubt a subconscious habit to ready himself to grab his weapons—weapons that he no longer kept on his belt. “But she shouldn’t have to tolerate it for my sake. We’re safe here, anyway.”

“We are.” You paused to take a sip from your caf. You thought through your words carefully before you spoke them aloud. “I still think it’s nice that you want to watch our backs, though.”

The warmth of Hunter’s gaze burned through the side of your head. “You do?”

You turned to meet his stare and nodded with a soft smile. “Yeah.” You swung your mug out towards the surrounding view of Pabu. “This life is nicer than anything I could’ve ever asked for, but it’s still an adjustment. You watching our backs is something that’s… well, it’s familiar. It’s a nice constant in all this change.”

Hunter returned your smile, but he was quick to look back to the way ahead, his gaze lowering more than before. You took the time to observe the heaviness sitting upon his shoulders almost like a physical weight—one he had no doubt been bearing ever since cadethood.

You freed a hand from your mug to set it upon his arm, keeping your touch as light as your voice was when you went on. “But you do know that you’re allowed to rest now, too, Hunter. Right?”

Your words, and your touch, earned you the former sergeant’s gaze again. Every feeling you had been trying to push down that whole morning arose with even more strength than before as the urge to comfort him tugged at your heartstrings relentlessly. His stare flitted between your eyes before he faced the way ahead again.

“I’m trying. It's just…” Hunter let out a soft yet troubled breath. He lifted his hand and ran it through the curls that weren’t secured within his bandana. “It’s hard to let go.”

“I understand.” You gave his arm a gentle squeeze before bringing your hand back to your mug. “Are you at least sleeping better?”

Hunter shrugged. “Better than I was after Eriadu.”

His rough voice withered as he said the planet’s name. Tech may have survived that day—by a miracle that none of you could truly understand—but the permanent injuries he suffered as a result of his fall, and that stretch of time where none of you had known that he had even survived, left deep scars on all of you. Hunter’s, however, was the worst, given the responsibility he felt for it all.

Especially after Omega was taken.

“That’s good.” You offered him a smile from behind your cup of caf. You drew a sip from it and let yourself bask in the peaceful silence between the two of you. The only noises around you were the distant waves crashing against Pabu’s shores, the chirping of birds and moon-yos, and the gravel crunching beneath your feet.

Surprisingly, Hunter was the one to break your silence this time. “How about you?”

You looked over at him, observing the concerned knit in his brow.

“Are you sleeping okay? Other than what you mentioned this morning.”

You gave him your most reassuring smile. “Most of the time, yeah.”

Hunter’s amber eyes, glowing golden in the early daylight, flashed with something intense that passed too quickly for you to read properly. “Most of the time?”

You let out a soft chuckle and raised your brow at him. “You don’t have to worry about me, Hunter.” You playfully nudged his elbow with your own. “You’ve got to focus on your own sleeping habits first.”

Hunter didn’t match your amused energy. Instead, his brow tightened in further severity. “I’m always gonna worry about you.”

His words were enough to make butterflies take flight within your stomach—until he kept going.

“Just like I do with everyone.” Hunter tilted his head at you, his lips finally giving way to another small smile. “Remember who you’re talking to.”

You let out a huff, hoping it sounded lighter than it felt as you forced it out of your suddenly corrupted lungs. It was selfish not to be more appreciative of the fact that Hunter truly did worry about all of you because of the deep care he had for his family as a whole, but you couldn’t hide from the jab of jealousy his words brought you.

For once, just for once, you wanted to be special to him. You wanted him to worry about you just a little bit more than everyone else. Omega, of course, was the only exception; she would never stop being the ultimate priority for any one of you.

The two of you fell back into silence, though it was more tense on your end than it had been before—but you were only a few homes down from Tech and Phee’s. That kept both you and Hunter quiet as you eventually made your way up to their door. The thought of the couple eased the tension from your shoulders, and soon, you were smiling as Hunter lifted his fist and executed his signature knock.

It took a few solid seconds for the door to slide open. Tech was standing there with his walking stick, which—unsurprisingly—had even more specs added to it since the last time you saw him just a couple of days ago.

“You are late.” Tech blinked at his older brother before his gaze slid over to you. His brown eyes widened slightly behind his non-combat spectacles as the hand not holding the stick adjusted them. “Oh. I was not aware you were coming.” The corners of his mouth rose in a small smile. “Good morning.”

You returned his grin. “We’re late because he was doing his hair.” You rocked your shoulder against Hunter’s own as you stepped forward to give Tech a side-hug, minding the side that favored his walking stick. “Morning, Tech.”

“No, it’s because you’re a slow walker.” Hunter flashed you an amused grin even as he held Tech’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Already added some more modifications?” He nodded at Tech’s walking stick.

Tech nodded. “I discover new ways to improve the device each time I use it.” Tech spared a glance behind him, further into the home he shared with Phee. “However, I do still prefer the cybernetic braces, when it is both convenient and advantageous to wear them.”

“Makes sense.” Hunter’s expression grew more serious as he gave his brother a once-over. “And they’re not giving you trouble anymore, right?”

“That is correct. I have made the necessary adjustments. As I told you before, I have plenty of experience from working with Echo on his own cybernetic legs.”

“I know. Just…” Hunter let out a soft breath. “Don’t be afraid to reach out to him for help if you need it, Tech.”

Tech’s gaze softened at Hunter from behind his glasses. “I understand.”

Your chest warmed at the brothers’ interaction,  making you wait a few more beats before you changed the subject. “Where are Omega and Phee?”

“We’re here!” Omega answered for the two of them as she shouldered on her knapsack and bounded down the stairs. “Phee was making sure I had everything.”

“I told you, kiddo, it’s fine if you leave something here.” Phee shook her head fondly as she followed Omega down the stairs. “You’re here enough times for it not to matter. Plus, you’re right down the street.”

“Yeah, but I’m not allowed to walk here by myself.” Omega shot Hunter a look, but it was far from being one of anger or frustration.

You snorted. “Not yet.”

Hunter raised an eyebrow at you in warning. You hid your smile behind your nearly empty mug of caf as he let out a soft sigh and ran his hand over Omega’s head. “You ready to head back, kid?”

Omega nodded before she turned back to Tech and Phee. She gave Phee a hug first, and then did the same with Tech, whose balance was assisted by Phee behind him. “Thanks for letting me stay over last night, guys! Are you still coming for dinner tomorrow?”

“That is correct.” Tech looked between you and Hunter. “Though I presume we will be seeing you both this evening?”

You glanced over at Hunter, who returned your gaze expectantly. You laughed and nodded at Tech. “Yeah, I’ll be there. Wrecker definitely will, too, but I’m not sure about Crosshair.”

Hunter shrugged. “Then I guess I’ll be there, too.”

“As anticipated.” Tech offered a small wave. “We will see you then.”

“Be ready to have some real fun.” Phee grinned as she kept an arm slung over Tech’s shoulders and gave the one opposite from her a squeeze.

You responded to them from over your shoulder as the three of you started to walk away. “He’ll try!”

Hunter rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t hide the fond smile that spread across his lips. You bit back your own grin at the sight of it and turned your attention to Omega.

“Did you have fun with Tech and Phee last night?”

Omega nodded, looking up at you from her place between you and Hunter. “I did! I helped Tech make some of his new modifications to his walking stick.”

Hunter beamed at that. “So, he’s teaching you more about welding?”

Omega nodded. “Tech said there’s still a lot left for me to learn, even though I’ve been making good progress.”

You and Hunter shared a look before he let out an amused huff. “Of course.” He ran his hand over Omega’s head again, brushing away some of the loose pieces of hair that escaped her ponytail. “Well, I’m proud of you for still learning and training, Omega. I know Tech appreciates the company, too.”

Your chest warmed at Hunter’s praise for Omega, especially as his words made her entire face light up. “Thanks, Hunter.”

She grinned, but it began to somewhat falter in a way that made her true youth strikingly obvious.

“I love spending time with them, but… I still miss you guys when I’m there.” She shrugged. “It’s just weird not being together the way we all were on the Marauder, especially since Echo’s on Pantora, now.”

You let out a sympathetic hum and gave Omega’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I get it. A lot has changed in the past year.” When her sparkling eyes met yours, you gave her a nod. “But you know you’ll always have us, no matter where we are.”

Omega’s smile started to return at that. She returned your nod and looked between both you and Hunter, whose brow was furrowed at her in genuine attentiveness.

“I know I’m probably too old for this now.” Omega’s grasp on the straps of her knapsack tightened, and her voice lowered in shyness. “But… do you think I can hold your hands the way I used to? Just for the rest of the walk home?”

You softened as your chest ached with bittersweet affection, but before you could even part your lips to say anything, Hunter stopped in his tracks and knelt down to Omega’s level. His expression was soft yet serious as he set both his hands on her shoulders.

“Omega, you’re not too old for that. It’s okay to still be a kid.” Hunter offered her a small smile before he went on. “Hemlock and the Empire took too much from you already. Don’t let them take the rest of your childhood, too.”

You held your mug of caf against your chest to contain the warmth that blossomed there, especially when Omega sniffed and threw her arms around Hunter’s neck in an embrace that said more than her words ever could. Hunter closed his eyes as he held her back, his secret desperation to keep time from slipping away evident in the deep furrow between his brows.

After a few heartbeats, they both pulled away, and Hunter offered Omega his hand as he stood back to his full height. You offered Omega yours, and then the three of you were headed back down the Pabu streets to your home, the way you used to guide Omega through crowded marketplaces back during your wandering days on the Marauder.

You stole a glance over at Hunter, but he was watching Omega practically skip between you with an admiring smile spread across his lips. The amount of love he had to share was clear enough to make you breathless. It was so obvious how deeply he cared for every single person in his family, and yet you somehow still wanted more from him.

Maybe that made you selfish, but it was a feeling that was only getting harder and harder to ignore—even if you continued to do so for the sake of keeping the peace.

════════════════════

You threw your head back in laughter at something Phee had just said, but all Hunter could see was the image of you laughing with Omega this morning as the three of you walked back to the house. The earliest lights of dawn had been flickering within your gaze, and he saw some of that same sparkle within them now, illuminated by the lighting of Pabu’s cantina.

“He’s not listening.”

Crosshair’s hiss snapped Hunter out of his daze. The former sergeant whipped his head towards his youngest brother, his brow lifting as he realized all his brothers were staring at him. His gruff voice managed to supply some kind of response to their attention. “What?”

Tech’s eyes crinkled with amusement behind his spectacles as Wrecker let out a boisterous laugh. Crosshair’s lips spread wide in a kark-eating grin, and Hunter had to fight hard to resist the urge to roll his eyes. “If you’re done staring, then maybe we can catch you up on everything you just missed.”

Hunter hoped the dimmer lighting of the cantina hid his flush from his brothers as he shook his head and tightened his hand around the remnants of the drink left sitting inside his cup. “Fine. I’m listening now.”

The remaining brothers shared an amused look before Tech spoke. “Hm. I remember a time when you were able to stare and listen simultaneously. Perhaps if you took some time to train again…”

Hunter gave his brother’s shoulder a shove, but he was much gentler than he would have been before Eriadu. It gave Tech’s cybernetic braces the proper amount of time to recover as he tripped a step. The engineer smirked as Wrecker chuckled.

“We were talkin’ about you.” It was Wrecker’s turn to give Hunter a light push.

Hunter let out a tired sigh. “What did I do this time?”

Tech blinked. “Well, other than the obvious failure to listen…”

“It’s not about anything you’ve done.” Crosshair glowered at Hunter as he unapologetically interrupted Tech and crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s about what you won’t do.”

Hunter was getting tired of his brothers beating around the bush. They had always been the direct type, and the former sergeant was missing that right about now. “Which is what?”

“Your tone suggests that you are agitated.” Tech’s sly grin indicated that he was still teasing his older brother, and clearly still getting amusement from it. “A deep breath could potentially be of great assistance in—.”

“I’m already starting to get a headache from this environment.” Hunter freed a hand from his glass to pinch the bridge of his nose. “And you lot are gearing me up for a migraine.”

Crosshair let out his own sigh and shifted his weight to one hip. “It would help if you stopped pretending that you don’t know what we’re talking about.”

Hunter’s brow shot up. He observed his brothers closely, but their gazes weren’t on him any longer. He glanced over his shoulder to where you were still standing with Phee, and for a moment, the light that danced across your eyes and your expression made him want to tune out the galaxy and admire you again—but the heavy weight of his brothers’ stares was quick to bring him back to reality.

“No.” Hunter exhaled through his nose and set his free hand on his hip as he faced his younger brothers with an all-too familiar authoritative look. “We’re not doing this again.”

“If not now, then when?” Crosshair’s voice was a hiss. “Shoving down your feelings won’t make them go away.”

“Yeah.” Wrecker nodded in Crosshair’s directions. “Didn’t ya’ learn that lesson after Tech and Omega, uh…”

“That was different.” Hunter narrowed his eyes in Wrecker’s direction first before leveling the same look upon his other two brothers. “What would you boys know about relationships, anyway?”

It only took one beat for everyone’s gazes to slide over to Tech. He adjusted his glasses as he visibly fought back another amused smile. Tech raised a single finger in the air. “I am, contrary to your question, quite well-versed in that area.”

Hunter fought off another sigh and forced himself to entertain the idea of taking relationship advice from… Tech.

If he had been told any of this just two standard years ago, Hunter would have bet a million credits that it wasn’t true.

“Alright, then.” Hunter gestured to Tech with his glass. “What’s your advice?”

Tech’s hand rose to his chin. “Well, you and I are two very different individuals.” He spared a look at you and Phee. “As are the two of them.” Tech’s attention returned to Hunter. “The nature of my relationship with Phee is also quite different from… whatever it is you two have been nurturing. On that basis, in addition to my own personal experience, I only have one potential piece of advice.”

Hunter was wary before he even spoke. “Which is?”

Tech deadpanned his response. “Perhaps you need to have a near-death experience.”

Both Wrecker and Crosshair began snickering right away, as if they had at least tried to hold back their laughter, but Hunter was just utterly shocked. He was still far too sensitive to Tech’s all-too-close brush with death on Eriadu to make jokes about it, even if that’s how the rest of the squad coped.

“That’s not funny.” Hunter lifted the glass to his lips and threw his head back to down the rest of the drink in his glass. The alcohol didn’t burn his throat nearly enough to remove the sting of what was happening around him. “And it’s not helpful, either.”

Hunter reached around Tech to set his empty glass on the bar behind him. He set both his hands on his hips when he had returned to his original spot.

“Can we move on, now?”

Crosshair rolled his eyes and took a step closer to his older brother. “We’ll move on when you stop being so dense.”

Hunter gave his brother an incredulous look. “What did you just call me?”

Crosshair threw up his hands, the metallic one on his right side catching the light as he did so. “There’s no way you don’t see that you both want the same thing.” He gestured with one hand over Hunter’s shoulder, no doubt in the direction where you were still standing. “Or do you expect me to pretend I didn’t see what happened this morning?”

Both Wrecker’s and Tech’s gazes lit up at that. Wrecker was the first to get the question out. “What happened?”

Hunter embedded a hand in his curls as he closed his eyes and sighed. “Nothing happened.”

Crosshair had a different answer. “They were close, and they were talking.” He smirked. “Sorry. Flirting.”

Hunter’s eyes reopened. “There’s no way you would have known that.”

“And? You weren’t even wearing a shirt.”

Wrecker’s eyes doubled in size. “What?”

Hunter’s hand moved from his hair to his forehead as he fought the uncomfortable heat that burned in his face and neck. “It wasn’t like that. I had just hit the shower.”

Tech’s brow furrowed. “Then you purposefully must have left the door to the refresher open. Correct?”

Hunter’s hand fell as he faced Tech. “To let the steam out.”

Crosshair’s sly grin widened the most it could for Hunter’s youngest brother. “Naturally.” He let out an amused huff. “You’re doing more flips trying to avoid the truth than you ever did during our training drills on Kamino.”

“Hah!” Wrecker nudged Crosshair, who scowled at him in response. “Good one, Cross!”

Hunter shook his head and stared at the floor. His brothers were giving him too much to consider, and pushing down his feelings was all he knew how to do—especially when he was still so concerned with everyone’s safety. It didn’t matter how much time was put between Tantiss and his family. Hunter was always on high alert.

You deserved better than someone who was constantly looking over his shoulder.

“Hunter.” Tech’s voice drew Hunter from his sudden spiraling. Both his tone and his expression had taken on a severity that was vastly different from before. “If I may give you a more fitting word of advice?”

Hunter remained silent, allowing Tech to continue. His younger brother set a hand on his shoulder as he did so.

“You must make use of the present. You can never be certain what may happen next.” Tech’s gaze gestured down to his own cybernetic braces. “You do not want to wait until it is too late.”

Hunter nearly winced at the raw truth of his brother’s words. Tech and Phee had only taken that first, true step in their relationship after Eriadu—after all of them, Tech included, had thought he was as good as dead. That moment would never fail to remind Hunter of how precious life really was, especially lives like theirs.

The Kaminoans were already taking half a lifetime away from all of them. Hunter had told Omega to stop letting Hemlock and the Empire take more from her, but when would he stop letting the galaxy take more from him, too?

Hunter trusted his brothers more than anyone else, aside from you and Omega. If they were so confident in their collective evaluation of the feelings between the two of you being mutual… then he was going to believe them, as terrifying as it was.

Hunter, whose gaze had fallen to the floor again, looked back up at his brothers. Crosshair had briefly stepped away to order a shot of some kind of clear liquor from the bar—it shocked no one that he preferred to drink everything straight up like that—but he had since returned. Hunter gave them all a firm glance before he nodded.

“Fine. I’ll… say something.”

Tech smiled in satisfaction while Wrecker let out a dramatic breath of relief. Crosshair lifted an eyebrow, as if he didn’t quite believe his older brother’s words. “Now?” The sniper’s gaze cut to the sight of you behind Hunter.

“Almost.”

Hunter leaned forward to take the shot from Crosshair’s hand, catching him off guard enough that it slipped from his grasp without a struggle. The former sergeant threw the liquor back before his youngest brother could protest, and the resulting burn was just what he needed to prepare himself for a conversation he had already mused upon for countless months.

“Now.” Hunter handed the empty shot glass back to a displeased Crosshair and spun on his heel before the sniper could say anything about it.

Hunter started to make his way over to you, gently weaving through the tight crowd of Pabu locals as he did so. He could hear his own heartbeat roaring loudly in his ears, but the master tracker forced himself not to focus on the sound. He had rehearsed this speech so many times in his own head, and he needed to get it right.

He was only about halfway over to you when he stopped abruptly. You were right where you had been before, but you weren’t with Phee anymore.

You were with someone else. Someone Hunter didn’t recognize. And you looked happy.

The crowds moved around Hunter in slow motion as he watched the stranger, another human, lean close enough to whisper directly next to your ear. They steadied themselves with a hand on your upper back, and you laughed sweetly at whatever they had said. If Hunter strained enough, he could probably hear…

No. That was a sickening violation of your privacy. Staring at the two of you felt violating enough for him.

And it was just enough to bring all of Hunter’s doubts back.

How could he and his brothers really be sure that you felt the same way? You would never act the same around him again if he confessed his truth and you felt differently. It would completely disrupt the peace you and the others had worked so hard to build here, and that was the last thing Hunter wanted to do.

Hunter could withstand a lot of difficult things, even the torture Hemlock had cruelly unleashed upon him on Tantiss, but a permanent, awkward distancing from you was something he truly wasn’t sure he could ever stomach.

The hot sting of jealousy burned sour in Hunter’s stomach as he turned and instantly headed back in the opposite direction of where you were standing. He planned to go around his brothers, but they had clearly been watching him, as Wrecker was already starting to approach him.

“Hunter, what’re ya’—.”

“I’m going home.” Hunter spared his brother a quick look. “Keep an eye on everyone and comm me if something’s off.”

That was all Hunter could bear to leave them with. He was too embarrassed, and too hopeless, to say anything else. He shouldn’t have let them talk him into even attempting anything tonight. If you found out… it could ruin everything.

Hunter shoved his feelings down deep inside himself and stepped out into the Pabu evening, caring little about the downpour that soaked every inch of him. He could use the cleanse, anyway. If he was lucky, maybe it would completely wash away these feelings, and he would never have to risk what closeness he still had with you.

════════════════════

You were grinning when you had spotted all four brothers standing across the cantina, but the brief conversation with your coworker had kept you from making your way over to them. Now, however, you were free to approach them, but your excited smile faltered when you realized there were only three of them now.

And you had definitely not expected Crosshair to outlast Hunter, even in an environment as overstimulating as this.

“Hey, guys.” You couldn’t hide the curiosity in your voice as you looked around the group. “Did Hunter get lost or something? I could’ve sworn he was just over here.”

Wrecker lifted a hand to the back of his neck and rubbed it, his gaze averting yours in a way that was wildly uncharacteristic of him. Even Tech’s eager stare refused to meet yours. Of course it was Crosshair who stood his ground across from you and shrugged.

“He said he’s going home.”

Your brow shot up. “Already?” You gave your head an aimless shake. “Omega isn’t even there right now. She’s with Lyana at Shep’s.” You circled your jaw and met Crosshair’s stare again. “Did he say why?”

“No.” Crosshair took a toothpick from his belt and set it between his lips. “But he was on his way to talk to you.”

You blinked at him a few times in shock. “When?”

Crosshair hummed. “Just a couple of minutes ago.”

There was something Crosshair wasn’t telling you. Your eyes narrowed as you cautiously asked your next question. “And what happened?”

“Again, he didn’t say.” Crosshair held his toothpick out and gave you a knowing look. “But if I had to guess? It’s because he saw you talking to whoever that was.” He pointed with his toothpick at your coworker, who had since rejoined their partner.

It only took you a few heartbeats to put the pieces together.

“No.” You shook your head almost frantically. “No, that wasn’t… no.” You had to let out a laugh in your disbelief. “We’re not—that’s just my coworker! They have a partner!”

Crosshair nearly looked amused, while Wrecker and Tech shared a look you couldn’t quite decipher. “We’re not the ones you need to convince.”

You glanced around the group. They were all giving you an expectant look, as if confirming the question you couldn’t bear to ask them.

They knew what Hunter’s intentions had been. You didn’t have to hear them say it to understand that. If he had really been that close to confessing the very same thing you had also been feeling for so long… you weren’t letting this chance slip away.

Without another word, you moved for the threshold of the cantina, slipping out of the lively atmosphere and into the dampness of the Pabu evening. The island was solely lit by the lanterns and other stringed lights that decorated the villagers’ homes, though even those lights were hard to see in the downpour that pounded against the stone streets you walked upon.

Your desperation to reach Hunter made you care even less about the way your clothing was beginning to stick to your skin. You blinked the droplets of water away from your lashes and squinted into the darkness, following the familiar trail home with haste until you caught up to him—if you could.

Then, when you were just one street away from the house, you saw him.

“Hunter!” You had to raise your voice to be heard above the sound of the rain hitting the stones beneath your feet.

Between that and Hunter’s enhanced senses, it wasn’t shocking that he almost immediately stopped in his tracks and spun around to face you. The curls he had worked so hard on doing this morning were now completely out of shape, sticking tight to his head and bandana and failing to move with him as he turned. His eyes widened in shock as he started to approach you.

“What are you doing out here?” Hunter shook his head, stopping when he was just a few paces away from you. “It’s pouring, and… I thought you were having a good time.”

“I was.” You took a step closer to him. “But whatever you saw wasn’t what you thought it was.”

Hunter’s brow furrowed, but it straightened as his gaze flickered with realization. “Let me guess. The boys told you that’s why I left?”

You bobbed your head. “Basically. But, Hunter, that’s not… they’re not—we’re just coworkers. They have a partner, so I can promise you, we’re not—.”

“Hey, it’s fine.” Hunter held out both his palms towards you. “You don’t have to explain anything.” He gestured with his head to the path behind him. “I just left because I started getting a headache. I was going to tell you, but I didn’t want to interrupt your conversation. That’s all.”

All you could do was blink at him for a few heartbeats as you processed his words. The difference between what Hunter was telling you now and what the rest of them had clearly implied at the cantina couldn’t have been greater.

The question was, who was telling the truth?

“Oh.” You forced out a laugh and gave your head a shake. “Well… sorry, then. I didn’t mean to bother you.”

Hunter flinched at that. “You’re not bothering me.” He lifted a hand in the direction of the cantina. “If anything, I feel bad that you left and walked this far in the rain just because you thought you had to explain yourself.”

This wasn’t the outcome you had been expecting. It was hard not to feel disappointed as you let out another fake chuckle and shrugged. “It’s fine.” You couldn’t meet his gaze as you instead focused on something behind him. “I guess I’ll just…” You stuck your thumb over your shoulder. “Head back.”

Hunter offered you a small smile, but it wasn’t like the ones you had seen on him earlier that day. This one was almost sad, as if he was forcing it onto his own lips. “Yeah. Wouldn’t want you missing out on anything else because of me.” He gave you a nod. “I’ll be fine.”

You finally met his eyes, and what you found there broke you. Hunter was easier to read than he probably liked to think, but maybe that was just because you had taken the time to truly learn him. What you found there was confliction and heartbreak, evidence that he was, indeed, the one who wasn’t telling the truth.

For some reason, he was trying to push you away.

“Keep an eye on the boys for me.” Hunter turned and started to walk away, though he added one more thing over his shoulder. “I’ll see you later.”

You closed your eyes and let out a long, trembling sigh. It would be so easy to let him go; Hunter was good at making it seem like he was okay, and that this was what he wanted, but he so clearly didn’t—and you didn’t, either.

You were tired of dancing around each other. You would never be able to enjoy the peace he especially had fought so hard to give you and the others if you lived with this secret forever. Even if nothing came from it, you had to tell him, and you had to do it now.

“It’s you, Hunter.”

You yet again raised your voice to be heard over the rain. Hunter stopped again, his head turning just enough for the tattooed half of his face to be visible to you. His brow furrowed before he spoke. “What?”

You tightened your hands into fists at your sides and forced yourself to go on. “When I can’t sleep well, and I wake up earlier than usual… it’s because I’m dreaming about you. About what you went through on Tantiss. The fact I couldn’t stop it.”

Hunter’s brow relaxed even as his jaw tightened in sudden severity. He slowly turned back around to face you fully, but he stayed where he was, and so did you. Now that your floodgates had opened, you weren’t holding back.

“But I’ve gotten used to those dreams, because I had similar ones after Bracca, and Daro.”

Hunter blinked once, then twice. He took a few steps closer to you, but his gaze looked more confused than anything else, as if he couldn’t process what he was hearing. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because.” You inhaled and hesitated, suddenly growing shy.

No. Not now. Not when you’ve gotten this far.

Hunter took another step towards you. “Because?”

You closed your eyes and threw your hands up in frustration—towards yourself or him, you weren’t sure. “Because, Hunter!”

You reopened your eyes and let the knot in your chest loosen with the truth.

“Because I worry about you more than anyone else. Because I care more. Because I’m tired of only having you at a distance. Because I wish you had come over and interrupted my conversation tonight.”

You took a deep breath, never once letting your gaze stray from Hunter’s as you went on.

“Because I wish we hadn’t realized how close we’d gotten this morning before Crosshair walked between us.”

Hunter was frozen, and you hung onto his every breath. His chest rose and fell a few times before he took a few more steps towards you, nearly closing the gap between you. His brow pinched together before he spoke. “Are you being serious?”

You let out an incredulous huff. You weren’t sure whether to laugh or be offended by his words. “Really, Hunter?”

He set his hands on your shoulders and gave you a once-over, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing—or what he had just heard. “You’re not joking, like you were this morning?” His gaze flickered to the street behind you. “The boys didn’t put you up to this, did they?”

You shook your head. “They might tease you, Hunter, but they wouldn’t do something as cruel as this.” You tightened your jaw. “And neither would I.”

Hunter’s shoulders rose and fell in another steady breath. “So, you are being serious.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, Hunter!” You nearly let out a laugh in your pure frustration, now that he seemingly didn’t believe what you were saying. “Is it really that hard to believe? How many times do I have to say it before you—?”

You didn’t have a chance to get the rest of your words out, because in an instant too quick for you to even process, Hunter’s hands had suddenly risen from your shoulders to the sides of your face—and he was fully closing the gap between the two of you the way you had secretly hoped for that very same morning.

By the time you were able to register the fact that Hunter’s lips were on yours, he had already separated from you, his expression uncertain at your lack of reciprocity. His hands even started to slip away from your face, regret quickly darkening whatever light had once been shining in his eyes.

That was when you threw your arms around his neck and pulled him back to you.

Nothing about this kiss was shy. It ached with fierce longing and a familiarity that surprised you, given how new this affectionate display was for both of you. You devoured one another as if you were making up for the time you had already lost, the months and even years spent keeping each other at an arm’s distance for no good reason.

Now, being this close to him, feeling and tasting the true warmth and sweetness of everything he forced himself to hide within the depths of his being, made you want to curse yourself for not saying anything sooner.

But Hunter made up for it, whether he understood how you were feeling in that moment or not. He held you and touched you in all the right places, somehow even managing to shelter you from the downpour in the protective cover of his own body. It was easy to lose track of time when this rhythm was all that mattered, superseding that of any chrono—or even your own heartbeat.

You only pulled away when you had completely lost your breath, and even then, you stayed close, if only to convince yourself that this was real. Your forehead and nose continued to brush against his as you let out a breathy laugh.

“Guess you feel the same way, then?”

Hunter huffed, and you were filled with warmth at the sight of his eyes regaining their sparkle, even in the darkness of the rainy Pabu evening. “Need me to prove it to you again?”

You hummed, your gaze flickering between his eyes and his lips as you shrugged. “It wouldn’t hurt to have a reminder.”

He was the one who chased you this time, holding you closer than anyone else ever had. It was an embrace you never wanted to escape, and his mouth was a delicacy that could never be matched.

This was the peace you had long since been seeking. It was the final step in your healing, already dispelling the remnants of darkness that had lingered like shadows on your psyche. This was the full, true reminder that no matter what you had been through, you were okay, and Hunter was, too.

You hadn’t been able to save him then, but you were doing so another way now.

You were so engrossed in these thoughts and in him that you were genuinely alarmed by the sound of another voice from somewhere near him. “Couldn’t even make it home.”

You and Hunter both jumped apart to look at whoever had spoken. Of course, it was Crosshair, who wore his signature kark-eating grin from underneath a rain shield he had clearly conned off of someone inside the cantina. He gave his head a shake before he rolled his eyes.

“And you two idiots thought the feeling wasn’t mutual.”

Crosshair simply kept walking after that. You and Hunter shared a look before you burst out laughing. Hunter chuckled with you as he shook his head at his youngest brother.

“I hate that he’s almost always right.” Hunter turned his attention back to you and ran a hand over your head. “He does have a point about getting home, though. Don’t want you getting sick or something.”

You raised your brow at him. “And did you even consider that for yourself before you marched out here with no rain shield?”

Hunter leveled you with a similar protective stare. “Did you not do the same when you came after me?”

You rolled your eyes, though your fond smile betrayed you. “Whatever.” You held the tattooed side of his face to press a kiss against his opposite cheek. “Come on.” You laced your fingers through his. “Let’s go home.”

Despite the fact that the house on Pabu had been your home for quite some time, it was different saying it now as you looked over at Hunter—because your true home had been extended to a person. He must have felt the same about that, too, because he pulled you closer to his side in response.

You then hurried home together, leaving every thought, doubt, and feeling you were no longer taking with you behind in the downpour.

main masterlist • hunter masterlist

hunter tag list: @zenrobbins0021 @cw80831 @yunggoblin @maddiedrmr @Molmcb @jellybeanstacey0519 @violetlilly2020 @singularattitudeofasafetypin

[tinywitchgoblin]

Obsessed!Hunter Thoughts (NSFW)

Hunter x fem!reader

Author’s note: when I say obsession here, I don’t mean in a creepy stalker way, I mean in the Gomez Addams kind of way because that is absolutely the type of lover Hunter would be, and no, you cannot convince me otherwise

Author’s note 2: I actually proofread this one but it’s entirely possible I still missed something, oops

Word count: 542

Warnings: m!masturbation, body worship (is this even a warning?), Crosshair being the little shit (affectionate) of a younger brother we all know he is, facesitting, oral (f!receiving), hair pulling, unprotected piv sex (wrap it up y’all), creampie, Hunter being an absolute sweetheart

@dindjarindiaries I feel like you might like this (if not, no worries!)

(also this GIF just Does Things to me)

-When he first meets you, he cannot get his eyes off you

-Tries to be polite and respectful, but can’t stop staring at your ass, your tits, your stomach, your hips, your thighs… literally anything squishy takes hold of his mind and will not let go

-Always wants to be near you, smelling you, touching you

-He wants to be surrounded by you and you only

-Definitely has wet dreams about you

-And wakes up with a massive hard-on

-Something Hunter will never willingly admit to anyone is that there are times when he’ll just be so intoxicated by you that he has to sneak off and rub one out because it’s the only way to calm himself down

-Crosshair caught wind of it happening one time and will not stop teasing Hunter about it

-One time Crosshair almost “let it slip” in a conversation with you… which is how he ended up with a black eye and a couple of bruised ribs

-When you finally have sex for the first time, he takes his time and shows love to every single inch of your body

-He wants you to know just how much you and your beautiful body consumes his every waking thought

-Can and will beg you to let him eat you out

-Once Hunter’s face is between your thighs he is not leaving

-Wraps his arms around them and presses his entire face into your pussy

-Eats you out like you’re the only food source and he hasn’t eaten in days (he just ate a couple of hours ago, he’s fine… but he doesn’t know that)

-Pulling his hair while he eats you out will only spur him on even more, too

-👏 SIT 👏 ON 👏 HIS 👏 FACE

-And none of that hovering shit, either

-He’ll lay back, pull you down onto him and go absolutely insane in the best way possible

-All the while he’s thrusting up into nothing because eating you out turns him on so much

-Has definitely came without being touched solely due to getting so turned on from eating your pussy

-👏 OXYGEN 👏 IS 👏 OPTIONAL

-When you come, he keeps eating and will continue unless and until you pull his head away from you

-But will definitely ask for more

-“Please, mesh’la? Give me another one? You look so pretty when you come on my face”

-And when he does finally pull away, the scent and feeling of your arousal covering his face gets him hard all over again

-When he finally slides into you, he buries his face into your neck and moans out the sexiest “oh, fuck” you’ve ever heard

-Does his best to make sex as pleasurable for you as absolutely possible

-But might not last super long

-Being buried deep inside you, feeling the softness of your body underneath his hands, smelling the scent of you still on his face,,,

-And yeah, if you ask him to, he’ll pull out, but will lose it if you let him come inside you

-After sex, all he wants to do is wrap his arms around you and cuddle because all he wants in that moment (and a lot of other moments, let’s be completely honest here) is you

•••

Thanks for reading! If you liked this, please make sure to reblog. 💚

And why not check out my masterlist while you’re at it?

[jedipoodoo]

Sniffles (Sergeant Hunter x Reader)

Notes: No warnings. This is My attempt to make Hunter as pathetic as possible. sick fic, Hunter gets the common cold and reacts accordingly as any man would.

"Help!" a rapid pounding at your door interrupted your peaceful morning.

You opened the door to find Omega standing there, fidgeting something fierce.

"Omega, what's wrong? Is everyone okay?"

"Somethings wrong with Hunter," Omega said nervously, "I woke up to a really loud noise, almost like an explosion, and I heard moaning from his room. He sounds hurt!"

You took a deep breath. Panicking wouldn't help Omega.

"Stay here I'll go check on him." You grabbed your medkit and started up the path towards the house Omega and Hunter shared.

You opened the door, painted red. It was one of the charming touches Hunter had made to the home that you absolutely adored.

"Hunter?"

A loud sneeze almost shook the house. That must have been what had woken Omega. You pressed further, searching for his bedroom. On his bed, you found a mountain of blankets, shuddering slightly under the light streaming in from the window.

"Oh Hunter," You sighed, but smiled, picking your way through the battlefield of used tissues that littered the floor.

"Day back," A shaky hand emerged from beneath the blankets, a warning, "I'm dying."

"Hunt-" You started to giggle, and then you couldn't stop.

"'S nod fuddy," Hunter insisted, but the way he sounded with a stuffed nose only made you laugh more.

"Who would have thought," You laughed, removing a couple of blankets from the top of the pile, "Sergeant Hunter of Clone Force Ninety-nine laid low by the common cold."

Hunter huffed, throwing off the last of the blankets, "Dere id nudding common aboud dis!"

His face was pale, his dark tattoo contrasting sharly against his sickly looking skin. He reached for another tissue and blew his nose loudly.

"Have you ever had a cold before?" you asked.

"No!" Hunter moaned and fell back against the pillows, "Clones are'd supposed do ged sick!" he grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around himself, burying his face in his pillow.

"How long has it been since you've seen a doctor?" You asked. He muttered something unintelligible.

"Why is id so brighd?" He muttered.

You closed the curtains for him. "Migraines can be a side effect of colds."

"Gread." he sighed.

You held out the box of tissues. Hunter bravely stuck a hand out from the blanket, groping for one to blow his nose with.

"Take one of these," You took a bottle of pills out of your medkit and placed it in the table next to his bed, "I'll be right back."

In the kitchen, you filled Hunter's canteen with water and started warming some broth on the stove top.

The door slammed open, and Wrecker filled the room with his booming voice.

"Is Hunter okay?" He demanded. Crosshair and Omega filed in behind him.

"Woah Woah Woah," You held up your hands, blocking them from going down the hall, "He's fine, he's just got a cold."

"Are you certain?" Crosshair tried to push past you.

"I'm very certain," You rolled your eyes and gave him a shove. In spite of your assurances, Hunter moaned from down the hall once again, blowing his nose rather obnoxiously.

"He sounds like he's dying," Crosshair folded his arms.

"He's not, I promise. He just needs some rest and some decongestant. His sinuses are so clogged they're putting pressure on his head and making him sick. Hell be fine within two days."

"Hey Hunter!" Wrecker hollared down the hall, "Can I have your knife when you're dead?"

"No!" Hunter shouted, his voice gravely. He fell into a fit of coughing from talking so harshly.

"I dibs the bandanas," Cross hissed.

"Whad was dat?" Hunter stumbled into the doorway, the blanket around his shoulders resembling more of a cocoon than a heroic cape. The cold was taking its toll on his senses.

"That's it. Out, all of you!" You shoved Crosshair back towards the door.

"Can I help?" Omega pleaded.

"Sorry honey, we don't want you getting sick. Or you!" You tried in vain to drag Wrecker out the door with the others.

"But he's not dying?" Omega asked once more for reassurance.

"No he's not. Don't listen to your brothers. Go hang out with Lyanna for the day. I'll let you know when he's all better."

Wrecker finally moped out of the house, and you slammed the door shut behind them, locking it for good measure. By now, the broth you'd left on the stove top was starting to simmer, but Hunter was still standing in the doorway of the bedroom.

"Back to bed. Now." You pointed at him.

"How come you are'd worried aboud gedding sick?" He asked, swaying a bit.

You rolled your eyes and placed his arm over your shoulder, escorting him back to bed.

"I've gotten a cold plenty of times before. I know how to deal with it. But if you're gonna act like a baby about it, I can only imagine how Wrecker would get with it."

"I'd nod a baby." Hunter pouted as you all but dropped him on the bed. You pushed him back, spreading the blanket over his body.

"I'll grab the soup and some water. You take the medicine yet?"

Hunter nodded, eyes half-closed. "Tasted terrible."

You laughed softly, and pressed your lips to his forehead. His skin was clammy to the touch.

"Medicine usually does, Hunt."

You brought back the food, along with a damp cloth to wash his face. You fed him, spoonful by spoonful, until he'd fallen back to an uneasy sleep. You braided his hair to keep it off his face, and left the cloth on his forehead to let the humidity break up some of the blockage.

As Hunter slept, you busied yourself with making sure he had enough supplies to ride out the cold. You went and bought some more tissues and broth, and packed an overnight bag for Omega to have at Lyanna's place.

You stopped by your house to grab some of your own things, and noticed the book sitting on the shelf. Hunter had bought it for you as a birthday present, but you hadn't gotten the chance to read it yet. Maybe you could read it to him.

When you returned after your errands, Hunter was sitting up in the bed, taking sips from the canteen.

"Where'd you go?" He asked, looking something like a kicked puppy as you returned to his bedroom.

"Just grabbing a few things," You placed a fresh box of tissues on the table to replace the empty one. You made a mental note to grab the trash can and clean up the floor later.

Hunter nodded, sinking back into the pillows. "I missed you," He mumbled apologetically.

Your heart melted just a little bit.

"Missed you too," You smiled, and kissed his forehead again

[sinfulsalutations]

𝕣𝕚𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕨𝕒𝕧𝕖 ⋆*･ﾟ 𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕘𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕙𝕦𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣

➼ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ☆ ꜱᴇʀɢᴇᴀɴᴛ ʜᴜɴᴛᴇʀ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➼ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ ☆ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ʜᴜɴᴛᴇʀ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴢᴇꜱ ʜᴏᴡ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ʜɪꜱ ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ᴀꜰꜰᴇᴄᴛꜱ ʏᴏᴜ.

➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴘᴏʀɴ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴘʟᴏᴛ, ꜰᴇʀᴀʟ+ʜᴏʀɴʏ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏʀ, ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ᴘʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ɪɴ ʜᴇᴀᴛ, ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ᴋɪɴᴋ, ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴛᴇɴꜱɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴀɴᴛᴀꜱɪᴇꜱ, ᴍᴜᴛᴜᴀʟ ᴘɪɴɪɴɢ, ʀᴇꜱᴏʟᴠᴇᴅ ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴛᴇɴꜱɪᴏɴ, ʜᴜɴᴛᴇʀ ɪꜱ ᴛᴏᴏ ꜱᴇxʏ ꜰᴏʀ ʜɪꜱ ᴏᴡɴ ɢᴏᴏᴅ, ᴍᴜᴛᴜᴀʟ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴜʀʙᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ɢʀɪɴᴅɪɴɢ, ᴍɪʟᴅ ɢᴏʀᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴇꜱᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴡᴏᴜɴᴅꜱ, ɪ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ʀᴇɢʀᴇᴛ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʟᴍᴀᴏ

➼ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ☆ 9.1ᴋ

➼ ᴘᴏᴠ ☆ ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ

➼ ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ ☆ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ - ᴇᴛʜᴇʟ ᴄᴀɪɴ, ᴍᴏᴏɴꜱᴛʀᴜᴄᴋ - ᴇɴʜʏᴘᴇɴ

⋆ ★ … ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛᴏᴏᴋ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴀᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ᴇxᴀɢɢᴇʀᴀᴛɪɴɢ, ᴀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ʏᴇᴀʀ ᴛᴏ ꜰɪɴɪꜱʜ. ɪ ʙᴇɢᴀɴ ɪᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇɢɪɴɴɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ᴊᴜʟʏ ᴏꜰ 2023 ᴀɴᴅ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴋᴇᴘᴛ ᴘᴜᴛᴛɪɴɢ ɪᴛ ᴏꜰꜰ ꜰᴏʀ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴘʀᴏᴊᴇᴄᴛꜱ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴀꜱ ɪ ᴋᴇᴘᴛ ᴡᴏʀᴋɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ɪᴛ ɪᴛ ᴋᴇᴘᴛ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ʟᴏɴɢᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴏɴɢᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴜʜʜʜ ᴏᴏᴘꜱ ɪᴛꜱ ᴀʟᴍᴏꜱᴛ 10ᴋ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ. ᴀʟꜱᴏ, ʏᴇᴀʜ, ɪ'ᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ. ʏᴀʏ? ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ.

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

⋆ ★ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3 ⋆*･ﾟ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀᴍ

Despite the gradual (yet quite quick, in retrospect) increment of your feelings toward the skilled soldier, you do, in fact, notice the blunt sexual appeal of Hunter when you first meet Clone Force 99.

It’s difficult not to; with his long hair you can’t quite place how the Kaminoans allow him to have, the striking skull tattoo, his toned body, and discernable shape even through the heavy armor, you can’t help but flutter your eyelashes and rock your feet back and forth like you’re a schoolgirl all over again. Hunter is the Bad Batch’s essential leader, the closest in appearance to the rivaled ‘regs,’ leading them as their Sergeant and CT-9901, and he stands out more than any other clone you’ve interacted with.

His warm, welcoming, yet slightly wary smile is just as firm as the handshake he gives you when you first meet him, leaning down a little to your height (you’d think clone defects would be the same height, or maybe even shorter than a veritable trooper, but instead you feel enveloped by his vertical. Not that you don’t enjoy the feeling, of course) and nodding firmly.

Then you hear his voice.

It’s only a short sentence; a brief introduction and warm gratitude for joining them as their medic before you acquaint yourself with the rest of the squad. But your ears wrap around the waves of his rough, musky baritone like a magnet. Everything feels as though it’s finally clicked into place and created the perfect picture of your desired man.

Your mind immediately begins to create dreamy rhetoric, wondering silly things to yourself.

Had your mind been aimlessly wandering the galaxy for this long, circling like materials until you finally found an opposite —An opposite so charmingly rugged?

The feeling that rushes through you feels so destined.

Lucky for you, Hunter seems to express his commands frequently with his voice; sometimes hushed through a link, the vibrations of your comm humming pleasantly between the soft undersides of your fingers as he talks.

It always during the times when you’re deep past enemy lines, taking down clankers more efficiently than a Starfleet. Initially too, as you were still trying to memorize their master list of designated plans and being weighed down by the extra weight of regulation armor.

“Don’t go through there yet. Squad of clankers waiting for us.”

“You sure, Hunter? I don’t hear any steps.”

“Take it from the person with enhanced hearing, little medic. Just wait for me.”

Other times when he speaks to you, it’s thunderous commands; ones that he yells out across a field or war front. It frightens you at first, your shoulders jolting and hands instinctively clamping over your ears to deafen the noise, but you quickly realize he’s ordering you to act. Once you get used to the intensity, you come to equally enjoy and indulge how his voice takes on a new edge in fleeting moments of urgency and demand; a once blissful burning of wood turning into threatening crackles, and from there a bleeding forest fire.

“Wrecker, move in! Now, now! Crosshair, how’s the bird's view looking?”

It’s incredibly embarrassing how something as simple as his voice can leave you this breathless. Even from the snide comments he can’t seem to help himself from saying when Wrecker retells stories to you, either from their days as shinies and cadets to missions where you stayed back on the Marauder. Between Tech’s rambling and Wrecker’s enthusiastic narration, the sound of Hunter’s voice becomes even more of a calming sedative to you.

Though it equally arouses you in other moments.

How his morning voice is somehow even lower and raspier than his regular tone is a study that must be researched and conducted by only the galaxy’s best scientists. It seems just so impossible, unbelievable; none of it is inauthentic either—the grogginess is always equally spread through his body, from his tired slouch and ruffled hair, lolling eyes, the unkempt composition of the clothes hung over his broad shoulders and slim waist. It’s unspoken the things you might do if you felt there was even the slimmest chance of starting your every day with that sound so deep and lovely right in your ear.

When he addresses you directly before you both allow yourself the time to sleep, asking you to check on old injuries or patch up new ones he got on the last mission. He always manages to get hurt in the most menial yet bothersome ways, and you’re once again forced into close proximity; you’re beginning to consider paying a few scientists and investigators to study the sexy phenomenon that is Hunter. But either way, you sit legs crossed at the ankles in the cockpit, forcing yourself to zone out on anything he might be saying every few minutes so you don’t have to squirm and change your position in your seat every so often and prevent showing how damn flustered and hot he makes you; in more places than just your cheeks and ears.

In flitting moments you get time to relish in his conjured wavelength, take in the scene you can create with just the sound of his voice; he transports you to a world of the dark morning fog, the red of his bandana the most vibrant sight in your nearest vision as he takes you on the forest floor just like that, no civil thoughts daring to come to each of your minds as he finally gives you the relief you crave for in real life.

Your depraved fantasy of Hunter is all you can dream of when you sit yourself on your fingers, holding back as many of the impoverished whines you wish to let out due to your true desperation for such an attractive man.

And the sweet indulgences you luxuriate in make you selfish. You want more, need to know how he’d sound grunting, moaning your name while his cock lay on your tongue. Or how the oscillations of his words feel on your inner thighs, against your clit when he pushes his fingers past your tight barrier. There’s much more you could learn, could explore if you could attempt an advance. Or simply given something more than slight moments of suggestion that he might have the same deviant desires as you to allow the green light.

You’ve yet to receive such signals. And flimsy fantasies, the work of your fingers to chase unattainable pleasure, and insistent memorization of his voice can only keep you quenched for so long.

-

“Hunter,” The inadvertent, pathetic whine crawls up your throat the moment you feel his breath on your neck, lingering over your skin even as he pulls back after hearing the noise you make.

“Just a little more,” He reassures you. The hand not firmly gripping your wrist pats your shoulder, and your cheeks flush at the passing fondness. “Let’s try to get one more shot on target and we’ll call it quits, how does that sound?”

With the warmth of your flushed face spreading to the rest of your body, you mutter,

“Sounds good,”

and try to softly shake off your arousal, eyes zeroing in on the middle of the tree, the finger hovering over the trigger surprisingly still. You’re about to take the shot before he starts instructing you again.

“Fix your foot stance,” Hunter gently guides your legs apart with one of his own, fixing the positioning of your feet planted onto the dirt and you take in a deeper breath than you intend to. The fire kindle of his voice and the fire kindle of your core are equal matches now; the husk of his chunked honey tone will certainly turn you to mush if he continues any further, it feels.

Really, how does this oblivious, heart-seizing bastard expect you to keep your focus on this pointless shooting practice when he’s got you this compromised?

“Try again now,” he says after he’s got you in the position he wants. You huff again, letting the fiery stimulation fall to your diaphragm, and breathe down your arousal. Just one hit on the target and you’ll be free of this torture.

But as you lift your arm again, eyes narrowing closer and closer to your prize, the imminent feeling of his leg between yours rears its head. You become so incredibly, annoyingly aware of it, and grimace, biting your lip softly and knitting your eyebrows together to fully get him out of your mind and body. You tug on your bottom lip and pull the trigger.

The bullet lands left side.

A deep groan of frustration leaves you; it sounds much quieter with Hunter’s rumble and grunt in your ear. You gently pull away from his grasp, handing him the blaster, and turn to face him directly. And when you catch that damned expression you promptly decide that you don’t like to see him disappointed; at least, it looks as though he’s disappointed. Eyebrows pinched together with the smallest frown, his chin curled into himself as he looks down at you (Maybe you should look into research for lawyers in the case of when you sue Hunter for the neck pain he’s caused).

“It’s alright,” He assures you, but it doesn’t feel right. And from the way he looks at you, it’s not alright.

“No, it isn’t,” You tell him exactly that, your fingers curling and interlocking together by your stomach. His eyes dart down for a brief moment of scanning, and they don’t linger too long; Maker, you wish you had the power for your eyes not to glue to him and his absolute stature instantly when you enter a space. “I should be better at this by now.”

Hunter clicks his tongue and turns away, as if deep in swirling thought. His gaze comes back to you before you know it.

“You should be,” He agrees, but nothing is degrading or critical in his voice. In his eyes, the wave of gentleness that cascades and shifts his expression, there’s unconditional empathy that you do not deserve and he wouldn’t grace you with if he were to know what you beg him to do to you in your dreams.

“We can try again,” You then insist, but Hunter quickly shakes his head.

“We’ve been working on this for an hour,” He tells you, slickly spinning the blaster back into his holster. He sounds tired as well, a new jaggedness in the smoke tendrils of his voice. “That’s more than enough practice.”

“But I just want to–”

“I know.”

Somehow, those words are more devastating than anything else he’s said. You look back and catch the mysterious glint in his eye, almost as elusive as his words might connotate on a foggy day.

“Trust me,” He continues. You don’t even realize his hand has wandered and softly taken your chin between two fingers until you feel the soft pads brush against your skin; your jaw slacks. He pinches your chin a little tighter to ensure your eyes are fixed on him. “You just want to prove yourself.”

Well, of course, you think to yourself vindictively. It’s enough that you feel ever-so-slightly out of place in a squad of clone troopers, let alone defective ones; not being able to properly handle a blaster in the mere presence of your crush is even more embarrassing. How juvenile.

“We can try again another time. But you’re tired. I can feel it,” He continues. There’s the slightest hint of gentleness you only pick up on because of how you hone all your focus on dissecting and admiring every single crevice of his articulations. Suddenly, he drops your chin, and your head lolls back into place, rather sloppily, and you look up through your eyelashes. “Time for us to sleep, I think.”

With that, Hunter whips around and heads toward the ramp to the Marauder. You’re left there with a smarting jaw, discreetly trying to rub your legs together and take the heat out of the area.

“Alright,” You sigh, glancing around before trotting after him, the white noise keeping your thoughts off of the man in front of you.

Yet, you still picture what his knee had felt like parting your thighs open only half an hour later. Attempting to recreate it with your arm and then your pillow, you give yourself a foggy release and whimper a jumbled version of his name into your pillow before drifting off, body still buzzing with frustration.

-

The next week, as if the weeks and months before weren’t as excruciating, is pure sexual torture. Not to say it’s entirely filled with frustration and dull aching, however. When you and Hunter have a moment of silence, alone by the cots or the engine or the cockpit together, you both relax into the same, comfortable silence that fills the time.

It’s better to have him not running his mouth off, for sure. You still have to deal with it on deployments and missions, but it’s manageable when you’re knocking down clankers or trying to listen to Tech’s very confusing instructions on how to fly the plane to a certain location to pick them up. But he’s allowing the silence to fester between you two. All the better to preserve the actual sweet, steady relationship you have aside from your fiery attraction, you think.

Hey, it could be worse.

But then the dumbass decides to get himself injured. Get pushed into and dragged against hard durasteel, leaving a gash across his stomach that could challenge Wrecker’s spiderweb scars in its damage. Your jaw practically drops when they return and you see the wound out in the open; you can’t stop yourself before you lurch forward with worried eyes and grasp his wrist around your fingers, pushing him down onto a bench.

As Tech pilots the ship off the planet, the rest all recline and lick their minuscule wounds beside him, while you and Hunter remain cramped in the back, avoiding his gaze and praying to the Maker that he keeps his voice to quiet rough grunts of pain as you try to unclip each different plate of his armor and lay them neatly beside him, tutting when more of his wound is revealed to you.

”Oh my goodness, oh my goodness ohmygoodness,” You stammer to yourself, more and more strained with each breath you take, peeling off the tarnished fabric of his blacks.

“It’s not too bad,” He argues with a soft grin, which slowly fades away when you glare.

“Don’t,” You retort, firm and simple, flashing a genuine look of empathy, and even a drip of fear. If you didn’t know any better, you might think Hunter practically melts under your look with how he slumps and his expression droops. But he’s still an oblivious, sexy fool, you remind yourself.

You don’t even have the energy to fawn over how incredibly attractive he sounds with the rough baritone and anguished sigh-like tone he wears; you instead scramble to open the first aid kit. You can feel his gaze set selectively on you and it doesn’t help. In the corner of your eye, he tilts his head.

“Is everything alright?”

You nod automatically.

“Everything is fine.”

The Marauder jostles in rough air; the ship tilts, your stomach dropping with the altitude change, and you’re unwantedly yanked onto Hunter’s lap with a yelp.

You still for a moment, waiting for the ship to steady again before you become acutely aware of how your chest is almost completely pressed up onto his face. And how your knees are caged over his thighs, your pelvis way too close to his wound for each of your comfort. And pressure against your waist, not too firm but still weighting you to his body–wait, is Hunter holding you to him?

Your eyes widen and you stumble off, stammering nonsensically and afraid to gaze upon his face. You don’t for a long moment, before grabbing the disinfectant and pouring it onto a cloth. 

Silence festers between the two of you. When Hunter does speak, it’s not to you.

“Tech! Get her steady, would you?” He yells across the ship, vexed and evidently not in an ideal mood. Tech immediately retorts in his typical, inappropriately casual, intellectual tone,

“That is not a light request, Hunter. I am already trying.”

Hunter scoffs and you finally get the gall to look at him. He exchanges a mutual look of annoyance and manages to grin wider for you. The sight soothes your frayed ends ever so slightly, and you stare down at his stomach again at the wound, biting your lip as you inspect the damage.

Your hands come to the hem of his blacks and you give him a silent ask with your eyes.

“Is it alright if I take this off?”

He hums, which you take as a yes, and you slowly peel it off of his skin, trying very, very hard to ensure your stare doesn’t linger. He looks at you with a mysterious gaze that's too hard to place for your liking. But you just try and shake it off as you slowly dab his wound with the bacta-dipped cloth, pressing it firm against the injury.

When he hisses, you perk up with wide eyes.

“Did that hurt?”

Hunter clenches his teeth and nods slowly, and you pull away with shaky hands. His arms reach out, encircling his fingers around your wrist, and guides them back tenderly.

“It’s alright,” He says, his tone dropping down an octave as your hands tremble again in his grasp. You gain the courage to look up at him, biting your lip softly. The grin he wears manages to soothe your nerves, just a little. “I’ve got you, girl. Just let me guide you so you don’t hurt me.”

You let out a shaky exhale of relief, and he sighs, dipping his chin down, but keeping the intense eye contact.

“How does that sound?”

“Good,” You squeak, the rise and fall of your chest the only constant managing to soothe your fried senses. After a couple of breaths, you finish your thought. “Better.” You press onto a side of his wound, softly spreading the bacta onto it; your eyes don’t separate from his once. “How’s that?”

He huffs, not of frustration or annoyance, but more a comforting relief.

"Fine. Keep going."

The rasp stirs between the space between the two of you, and you take a deep breath before you can do anything else.

With the firm grasp on your wrists and the low tendrils of his voice softly directing you, you continue to tend to his wound, your hands moving deftly over his skin. The thick, intoxicating tension in the air is palpable; the lingering silence between you weighs heavy despite your best attempts to snap yourself out of it and take care of him like you're supposed to.

It's not your fault he just sounds so damn sexy all the time.

"Careful, careful," He tuts when you're stitching up a particularly bad spot, pressing your fingers around the skin and holding it there as you thread the stitch through. "Just a little gentler, please."

Then, "Avoid that spot, please. I can't even-- shit -- breathe without it hurting. Just stitch around it. Yeah, just like that. Good job, little medic," As you're finishing up.

Once you finish wrapping the bandage firmly over the wound and around his waist, taping it firmly to him, he dislodges his fingers from where it's wrapped around your wrist, bringing it to your chin and manhandling you slightly to get a better look into your eyes.

"See, ‘wasn't so bad, was it?" He flashes you a grin, obviously masking the pain etching into his limbs, all to calm your nerves. The fact that he's making such a constant effort to make you feel better despite his state makes you positively soft. "You did great."

You grin back, nodding and averting your eyes.

"Thank you."

There's a pause before he bludgeons you with his next sentence.

"You enjoy getting instructions."

Your eyes widen; you almost drop the first aid kit; everything stills, your chest tight as you process his words. Shit, what the fuck?

What the fuck?

"Wh--What?" You stammer,  taking a small step backward and tilting your head to appear more confused and insulted by the accusation. Maybe if you appear offended, he’ll take it back. "Who said that?"

"You don’t need to say it. I can feel it," He continues, gaze thoughtfully fixated on you. He doesn't even falter when you seem to panic. "I can see it." You try to gawk at him to make him feel stupid, make him retract what he's saying, but either he's so certain or you don't seem very convincing. 

No matter; you're still fucked. 

"You like getting told what to do."

Your heart pounds, and Hunter just sits there, legs spread leisurely, his eyebrow slightly raised in expectation. Seriously, what does he expect you to answer with? Does he want you to fess up and admit how depraved and desperate you are for his touch, then run off mortified to never speak to him again? Surely he doesn’t expect you to take.

Defeated, you sigh and softly run your hands over your work again, avoiding his burning gaze.

"Only from you," you mutter, then immediately pray devotedly to the Maker he doesn't hear. Hunter hums, a tone of question in his voice, then you proceed to figuratively jump off a cliff as you remember this fucker has enhanced senses.

"Why’s that, mesh’la?" He asks. Instinctively, your eyebrows knit together when the new nickname graces your ears.

"What does mesh’la mean?"

Hunter doesn't seem very phased. Can't you just throw him off his rhythm once?

"Don’t worry about that," He quickly excuses your question as a distraction from the question at hand. "But tell me why you only enjoy getting instructions from me." 

There's something smug to the way he talks, hidden behind insistent concern and curiosity. 

"Why’s that, tell me."

Your hand comes up to hide your face, but he takes it and keeps it away from disfiguring his view of your expression. You want to babble; you can feel your face heating up. Instead, you frown.

"I, uh," You try to discreetly rub your thighs together languidly, easing the tension and buildup of heat in between them. A huff leaves his lips that sounds oddly close to a chuckle.

"Come on," You lift your head, perplexed for a split moment, but then he pats the top of his thigh. You blink once, then twice, then another time for good measure, just to make sure you're seeing correctly. Is he... what's he even implying? 

"Sit down. On my lap."

Oh. That’s what.

Your mouth opens, a strange sound bordering on a choke leaving your throat as you try to retort or deny him. He only raises his eyebrows and dips his chin down, gesturing toward his lap again.

You huff, eyebrows knitted, and take a small step toward him, slowly, and you envelop his figure, trapping his legs between your knees and careening slightly, hands still meeting at your stomach, unsure of where to move. He nods encouragingly.

“Good job, just like that,” He praises you, hands slowly rising to rest on the handles of your hips, fingers tracing your waist. You take a sharp intake of breath, eyes drifting down to where your bodies meet, and look back up at him again. Hunter’s wearing this oh-so-innocent, deer-in-headlights expression you know is bantha-shit. “What’s got you so hot and bothered?”

You sough vindictively, averting your eyes.

“Stop teasing me.”

He laughs— though it’s more of a snarky, yet affectionate chuckle. You feel so naked in his presence, given such focused, vehement attention.

“I’m not teasing. Just concerned,” He tells you. The problem is, Hunter does well making you think he’s actually this clueless when he does know and just wants to hear it from your lips.

“Mhm,” You hum sarcastically with a pout.

He manages to grin at you, the corners of his eyes scrunching up as he looks at you. You let your eyes come back to him.

“I can do both, can’t I?” He offers.

“Sure,” You retort.

Squinting his eyes, he casually rubs his hands up and down the sides of your body.

“I’ll figure it out, one way or another,” He affirms, ending the sentence with a wink; you take a deep breath, letting your jaw slack. Hunter keeps talking like there’s nothing thick in the air between you.

“Put your hands on my shoulders.”

You furrow your eyebrows; he pouts like an upset child. Chastising, you huff and do as he says. When your hands shake slightly, he continues giving you instructions. They are so simple, yet they seem so alluring and nuanced in this context. In his voice.

”Steady yourself. Yeah, like that. Good.”

You wiggle your hips slightly, and something boils in his stomach slightly, something bordering on a groan. Your legs are warming up but you have no way to close them and satiate yourself. So all you can do is squirm.

Hunter perks up in concern.

“Are you comfortable?”

You take a moment to respond but then nod.

“Good.” Hunter grins softly, patting your left hip. For a moment, he decides to rake his eyes over you appreciatively, almost in the same way you do when you assume he isn’t looking. “I’m glad.”

Offering a civil smile of mutual understanding, you wiggle your hips, trying to find a better position if you’re going to be compromised on his lap.

”Trail your hands down for me.”

It's hard to deny or disobey him with a voice like that, especially when you know it’s directed toward you. So you slowly let your hands slip from his shoulders and descend his chest and torso.

“Yeah, down,” He encourages you when you reach the top of his wrapped wound. “Maybe try to avoid the gash.” 

You lift your hands and let only the pads of your fingers place feather-light touches over the wrapping. When your hands begin to tremble again the further you descend, reaching his pelvis, he tuts to stop you. “That’s a good place to stop.”

You look up again with wide eyes, trying to stop your erratic (embarrassing) trembles and tilt your head. There’s more he’s going to say. At least it seems so.

“Whenever you’re ready, put your hand over my crotch.” He gives you a soft look of reassurance, making sure you’re completely comfortable in this position, before finishing. “I want you to feel me.”

Gasping softly, you pull your hand away, fingers curling into your palm and gripping tightly. A shiver runs through you, and you can’t seem to figure out if it’s from shock or pleasure.

“What?” You begin, eyes flitting from his face and back. “H-Hunter, I shouldn’t.”

“I’m asking you to.” Polite insistence is the game he plays. If this truly is a trap, you might happily fall if it means you get to touch him. He runs his hands over your curves again. “I want you to.”

You tense further, something bordering on fear in your eyes. Hunter notices and frowns while he clarifies:

“Unless you don’t want it. ‘Cause then… we can stop. No hard feelings…”

You can see how he’s getting lost in his thoughts. For a split moment, that perfect composure he holds in your presence fractures; he seems insecure and nervous; anticipating inevitable rejection because he’s pushed you too far.

That isn’t the case.

As you finally press your palm to his bulge, you contain your gasp. He’s big. And so hard.

“Fuck,” He groans, head tilting back. “Feel that?”

Oh kriff, that rumble. It’s warm and smooth yet rough all the same, creeping its way over your skin until you’re forced to keep the faintest whimper from leaving your throat. You string your lips tight and nod.

“Mhm,” Is the only thing that manages to leave your mouth, whiny and soft. You palm him further, as if the fabric would simply tear away and you could finally feel his skin on yours. He hums again, and you’re left looking doe-eyed in his direction. “Shit, Hunter.”

He throws a heavy statement onto you.

“It’s my voice, isn’t it?”

You tilt your head up, containing the urge to gasp.

“What?” 

“What’s making you so hot and bothered,” He continues. You want to look away, hide your face in your hands with humiliating embarrassment, but you’re trembling so much on top of him that you can’t even flit your eyes away. “You like my voice. And you like it when I tell you what to do.”

You gasp lightly when you feel his warm hand on your thigh. Your cunt twitches and it really shouldn’t. He’s barely doing anything. 

“Well,” he continues, raising an eyebrow. “Are you going to deny it?”

The answer is delivered non-verbally. You relax into his lap, palm pressing further to his bulge, and then you squeeze oh so gently. That heavenly groan graces your ears and you devoutly catalog it into your mind for later recollection.

His chin dips down to catch a glimpse of your hand before he meets your eyes.

“Mesh’la,” he says; even without knowing what it means, just hearing how he speaks with such beguile and worship tells all that you need to know. “Mesh’la… can you do something for me?”

“Yeah. Of course. Anything,” You stammer out with a slack jaw, far too enthusiastic. Hunter doesn’t seem to regard it as anything distorting the absolute utmost respect that he must feel while he has you in his lap with your hand on his dick.

“Slip your pants off.”

It’s practically instinctual how efficiently you gingerly push yourself off of his lap and follow his order. With your hands chastely placed above your waistband, you let your thumbs push past, then await Hunter to grant you to pull them off. His eyes dilate with the view, and he nods.

The pants find their way to the ground clumsily, and you cringe internally at your lack of grace, but when you finally catch sight of Hunter’s expression, perhaps it’s nothing to worry about.

He looks… starved. Hypnotized by the splendor in front of him, for his eyes and his hands and his body only to touch, feel, hold, take.

“You’re… fuck,” he sighs, sounding out of breath, as though you’d just swept his leg and taken him off his feet. His hand methodically strokes up and down his thigh, only lightly grazing the tent in his pants as he takes his eyes over how you look, over and over again. 

“You’re stunning,” he finally manages to say. His hand stops stroking to pat his thigh lightly, and his voice simmers in a way you know is on purpose. “C’mere, sit on my lap again.”

“Are you sure?” You ask for permission despite rocking your feet back and forth to shimmy your way back. As you gesture toward the bandages wrapped around his middle, Hunter huffs and frowns with miffed frustration. “You’re still injured.”

Hunter gripes to himself as he pushes himself up, placing his hands on your hips and pulling you to the free space between his two hard, firm thighs. His dexterity surprises you. The warmth radiating from his body does even more.

“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”

Oh.

Shit.

He looks the part, certainly; you only try to feel the faintest tremble of his fingers when his hands float away from your hips to sit on the top of his legs again, 

“Okay,” You mutter aimlessly, reaching up to your face to brush your hair away in a measly attempt to look more presentable. Your voice is just a squeaky little thing, and it’s so incredibly humiliating. “Okay…”

“It’s alright,” Hunter tries to soothe you, and you breathe shallowly.

“I know that.” Your tongue runs over your bottom lip and you heave. “I just…”

Before you’re able to process what’s happening, Hunter’s reaching a hand out to cup your face. Despite the coarseness of his skin, his callouses fall on your cheek, it’s so tender, and you melt into his touch.

“Do you need some guidance, little medic?”

With a slight whine, you nod, letting your lashes flutter. Hunter lets his thumb swipe over your bottom lip, and your mouth parts. He grins at your unprompted compliance.

“Then let me tell you what to do. Let me tell you how to touch yourself and make you come from that, and my voice too.”

A depraved noise is choked out of you.

“Fuck,” your head careens to the side, but his firm hold on the side of your face keeps your gaze on him. His grin turns more into a cheeky smirk.

“How does that sound?” He asks. You nod adamantly before he tries to change his mind, so worried that he’ll push you away at any moment. As though he can read your mind, the hand that was still on the back of your thigh takes a gentle squeeze before trailing up your body, taking appreciative feels of your ass and hips before settling on your waist again.

“Mm…” You hum, reveling in the sensation.  “Really good.”

Hunter gives you a half-crooked smile, and you want to cuss him out, or yourself, you’re not sure who to be fed up with.

“Come on, little medic,” He urges you on, patting your hip. “Slip your hand down your panties.”

Wordlessly, you let a trembling hand descend down your body. You have little dignity left in you to try and make yourself appear more seductive, but you hope your image isn’t so repulsive. The moment your fingertips make contact with your heat, your fingers grazing over your mons and clit, your mouth falls open in a silent gasp.

Hunter tilts his head.

“How does it feel? Are you wet?” 

He should know already, smug bastard.

“Yeah,” you nod, keening further into his touch when he tilts his chin down, leaning toward your ear.

He takes a gentle lick, so light that if you weren’t in his grasp you wouldn’t have noticed.

“How wet?”

Your hips instinctively buck to rub yourself over your hand, a rush of arousal washing over you.

“Re–“ You swallow a wad of spit sitting on your tongue. “Really wet.”

Hunter’s lips are gentle when they undulate as he speaks oh so close to your ear, quiet and warm, words just for you.

“Just from my voice?” When he asks this time, you don’t detect much smugness; he wants the confirmation and credibility for a foundation of fact he’s built for himself.

You nod, but add on more. 

“Not just that.”

“Hm?” His dark rumble travels down your spine and you squirm with pleasant upheaval. Your hand is still awkwardly lodged down your panties with nothing to do. 

“Tell me more,” he demands with an assuasive croon. With one last kitten lick that lingers on the shell of your ear, he allows his lips to wander, mouthing against your skin, leaving delicate kisses on your temple, your jaw, and any moles and freckles in his nearest vicinity while he awaits your answer.

“I, uh,” you begin, awaiting to land on a coherent stream of words loosely strung together to fall on your tongue. “your—“

Just as you feel something begin to tie, your gaze drops down. Hunter palms his full erection over his blacks, languidly as though without a care, and the thought of him being aroused by this, aroused by you, slaps your mind into a render less zone.

“—fuck.”

He chuckles right in your damn face, and Maker he’s just too pretty not to kiss. But you resist the temptation with the festering worry of crossing the barrier past simple attraction into affection.

So you swallow slow and hard and try to compose a sentence.

“Your, face—“

Yeah, real eloquent, idiot.

“—That skull tattoo, it’s, well, shit…”

Your tongue wraps around itself again, words becoming more and more hard to piece together the longer you think about it. All that your primal mind begs you to think of is the olympic man presented under you, and the heat that radiates off the both of you.

“Alright now, you don’t have to continue,” Hunter huffs with no real malice contained in his words. It still makes you cringe nonetheless.

“That bad?” You ask with a clenched jaw.

A simple head shake is all you receive, but it’s more than enough to sedate a growing burn in the pit of your stomach. The hand not pressed to his crotch gently holds your hip, thumb swiping over your panties and bare skin; he even dares to let it slip past the waistband. The accurate awareness of your hand pressed to your pussy returns to you.

 “Don’t want you to focus your energy on that,” he clarifies, eyes looking into yours with a softness you’ve never associated with Hunter. You’d find it peculiar in a regular conversation, but everything about this interaction has been anything but normal.

You suddenly realize you’re at a loss again. “So what do you want me to do?” You ask because you feel humiliated just straddling him like this.

Hunter puffs out his chest and you prepare yourself for the worst.

A coarse hand presses to your navel, trailing up underneath your shirt to sketch an image of your body underneath, stopping right where “Rub your pussy for me.” 

It’s worded like a demand, but he voices it as though it’s a request. Your body wants to tense and retract, but the palm spread over the expanse of your stomach prevents you.

“You can do that,” Hunter encourages you, almost as though you were a creature he’s saddled on to ride. Though in this instance, you’d much rather be the one to ride. “Can’t you? For me?”

With a huff, you look away and nod bashfully. It’s wordless when you begin to move your hand, let your fingers get soaked as they rub up and down, up and down… you’re almost too tense to really feel the sensation, but Hunter’s doting gaze and his firm hand on your stomach keep you grounded. As you collect slick, running your fingers through your folds, it takes heavy petting for you to relax your jaw and let out the most pleasantly pathetic whimper.

Hunter groans, adding fuel to the flame flourishing in your pants, a dark sound of thunder rumbling in the sky, forewarning something much more devastating.

“Yeah, just like that,” he encourages you in that same husky tone following the groan. “Rock your hips too.”

You do so diligently, using your palm to press against your clit as a foundation for the rest of your hand to move leisurely while you rock your hips into himself. Hunter’s hand retracts from your stomach, fingers curling into his palms as he lets his knuckles graze against your skin. When you shiver, he takes it as an invitation to shush you gently against your temple, before his hand falls to your waist again.

The moment you glance down, you have to tip your chin back with an ascendant sigh. He’s got his hand over his clothed erection, palming it with a firm hand, almost absentmindedly as he keeps his eyes on you.

“Fuck, Hunter…” The desperate, embarrassing whimper comes out of you far more loud than you intend. Hunter shushes you gently.

“Keep quiet for me,” he commands; how are you meant to be by him when he speaks like that? 

“Good?” He then asks, seemingly seeking approval good enough for him to continue. “Do I sound as good as you imagined?”

You want to say yes, declare it to the entire galaxy, and tell him just how wonderful this man is, but you’re far too overwhelmed by all the pleasurable sensations disrupting your thought process. So instead you nod.

That seems to satisfy Hunter, and the smallest smirk curls on his lips as he watches you squirm and rock your hips into your hands.

“Don’t you as well.” 

With a hum, you try to dismiss the comment. But only as you let it sit does the implication of his words sink to your stomach. But he doesn’t allow you to dwell on it for too long, it seems, as he continues,

“I want you to keep touching yourself. Do whatever you need to for me. Whatever makes you come.”

He pats his incredibly intimidating bulge as though it’s an invitation.

“Right here, on my lap.”

You resist the dizzyness that threatens to overtake your senses, but as you steady your breaths, you suddenly feel so exposed. Far too exposed compared to Hunter. 

So you try to level the playing field.

“Would you… er…”

If only your words could come out correctly. Hunter raises an eyebrow, perked with a cheeky glint in his eye.

“Hm?” He hums.

You grunt and attempt again to tunnel out the words. Like a plow shoveling out snow or sand.

“It—It feels unfair that I’m the only one here getting off.” 

You wince as you finish the sentence. Maker, you sound so clunky and awkward. So much for being seductive.

But Hunter hums with total compliance, letting his hand trail up to where his bottoms cling to his skin.

“‘Guess you’re right.” Slowly, oh-so-slowly, Hunter peels back the waistband of his blacks, letting his hand slip through to free his cock from underneath the garments.

You think you’ve been knocked out for a healthy minute when you get a proper look. You’d never imagine describing a cock as pretty, but just like everything else, Hunter may become an exception. His fingers curl around the base with rather ease, before reaching up with it to his chin. He opens his mouth, letting a wad of spit collect and drop onto his palm, allowing him to stroke his cock with a more slick movement.

Maker, he’s so… so…

No, that can’t be right. His cock is far too thick for his hand to wrap around it so easily. But then you remember his proportions, especially compared to yours. A small chuckle leaves you when you imagine how you might try to wrap a full hand around his length.

Hunter leisurely strokes himself, eyes set on yours with an intensity that makes your stomach leap bounds up to your chest.

“Now it’s more fair, little medic,” he says. “Don’t you think?”

You nod adamantly with no hesitation.

“Yeah, yeah…” Your fingers deftly move to trap your clit between your index and middle, your mouth falling open when you feel the pressure hum over you. “Shit.”

Hunter huffs with a smugly saccharine look, his hand slowly stroking up and down his cock, lingering at the tip before he returns down again.

“You look really good like this.”

You tilt your head and grunt in disbelief. It’s hard to believe him when you feel simultaneously so powerful and so humiliated. Even though he’s just as physically exposed as you, you still feel more vulnerable.

“Do I now?” Despite being sarcastic, you try not to come off too mean.

But then Hunter sighs out the most exasperated, “ Fuck yeah,” his chin tipping upwards as he gathers his breath, tongue darting out to lick his lips, eyes half closed while he squeezes the tip of his dick, and you’re left render less to your own attraction again.

He seems to see the disbelief in your eyes.

“Don’t you believe me, mesh’la?” He asks. You remain still. “You really need me to spell out just how hot you look right now? How sexy .”

“Hunter,” you whine.

He continues without regarding you.

“I’m trying so hard not to— fuck—“ he tenses his stomach as he tries to compose himself. “—just blow my load right now. You’re just so— so pretty and pliant and so damn obedient .” You tremble slightly, and Hunter reaches to hold the back of your neck; not before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, of course.

“Listening to my every order,” he continues, oddly affectionate. 

A rush of confidence flows through your veins. You try to smirk, but instead it comes out toothy and bashful.

“That’s my job, sergeant.”

Hunter groans, his fingers curling into your neck, one pressing to your pulse point so purposefully. 

“Fuck, don’t say stuff like that,” he says, shaking his head, though he doesn’t seem too displeased. “Or else this’ll be really short.”

You giggle, trying to look away, but Hunter’s grip on your neck keeps your head in place. You blink rapidly, suddenly overwhelmed by his stare. But you can’t. Move. 

You whisper out a weak, “Keep talking,” before your eyes shut close. You press your palm to your clit, whining softly. Hunter uses the grip on your neck to bring you in closer, whispering slow and softly into your ear with purposeful oscillations of his lips,

“I wonder how you’ll feel around me.” You sigh out the faintest hint of his name in surprise, just as you begin to press a finger into your entrance. “I bet you’re so tight you’ll squeeze me out. Warm, and hot, and loud .”

“Fuck,” you swear, both in response to his words and to the feeling of a single finger pumping in and out of you. You’ve done little to stimulate yourself and cum, but somehow you’re already feeling an anticipated crawl up of an orgasm. 

The things Hunter does to you.

“I want your mouth on my cock too.”

You clench involuntarily o over your finger, bucking your hip so your clit catches against your palm. Oh. He isn’t done.

“‘Thinking we’d both have fun if I tried a hand at commanding you around, fucked your face a little.”

Hunter tilts his head. as though expecting a response, so you nod your head — or tilt your chin down, you’re unsure— and he grins in deep settled approval at your compliance.

“How does that sound, hm?”

In a split moment of respite, while he awaits your response, you gaze down, watch his hand wrap around his cock with more insistence than before, stroke at the same rate you move. The hand on your hip drifts down to hold your hip again, rocking you with more fervor. Inadvertently, the movement forces your fingers in a new direction that grazes your g-spot just so perfectly, and you’re sighing again.

“ Oh… ”

The silence becomes too long for Hunter to bear, and he grunts.

“Answer me, mesh’la,” his tone is commanding, yet not overbearing. You appreciate it considering the sliver of shame remaining in your stomach. “Would you like that?”

“I’d–I’d like it,” you stammer out, slowly rubbing a second finger down your folds before pressing in slowly to meet the other. “A lot … fuck.”

With a tilt of his head, Hunter leans in closer, lips dangerously close to yours and for a split moment you consider pulling away. 

“Something the matter?” He asks, but he knows the answer. Hunter can damn well see how your legs begin to twitch and shake more rapidly, the unsteadiness of your breathing as you simultaneously calm yourself and try to bring about your high.

“You fucking know what’s the matter, Hunter,” you bark back.

“I don’t think I’m sure exactly,” he responds dismissively. “Could you say it clearly, just in case?”

Something you hope sounds like a playful growl leaves you, but in reality, it probably sounds like a moth cat purring.

“You bastard .” There’s no real bite to your insult, and Hunter knows it, so he grins.

“I do my best.”

Your pleasure overtakes you and a shiver runs from the top of your spine to your legs, your thumb moving to properly rub your clit.

“Oh, fuck, I’m close,” you’re moaning out before you know it, voice dwindling so you’re not too loud. 

“Ah,” Hunter hums, affectionately rubbing your hip. “That’s what I thought. ‘Was just making sure.” 

His strokes have become more erratic and frantic, but his composure doesn’t give it away. If you weren’t to gaze down, you’d have no tell how aroused he truly was. Though perhaps that’s how he wants it to be— you’re a pretty mess while he’s the foundation to keep you upright.

Suddenly, he’s talking again, using the hand on your hip to encourage you to keep rocking.

“Come on, you pretty thing,” he rumbles. “Come for me and I’ll come for you.” Then you’re remembering what brought you to this attraction in the first place; that damn voice of his. Truly, and you mean truly, never saw yourself being in this position; situated over Hunter’s lap, touching yourself for him while he gets off to you and only you. 

With one more curl of your fingers against your g-spot and your thump insistently rubbing your clit, you’re over the hill, and you’re twitching and rocking your hips over and over in arches of your back, jumbled syllables vaguely making up Hunter’s name spilling from your lips like sticky sweet sugar.

That’s when you hear it. When you glance down to catch his spend start to spill on his bare skin the bandages of his, he groans out the most pleasant incantation of your name you’ve ever heard. The moment the noise graces your ears, you’re certain that you never want to hear anything else. Or at the least, any other version of your name. 

A few moments pass where you remain panting in each other's presence, his hands remaining render less at your side, rubbing up and down in uncoordinated patterns, while your hands grip his shoulders. You only start to pull away from him as you catch your bearings— and your dignity.

Hunter interrupts you by grabbing the wrist of the hand you had stuffed down your panties. He leans in closer, tongue darting out like a teasing little offer.

“Can I get a taste, mesh’la?” His voice is slow, and warm, like honey pouring into a pot of tea—in any other situation, it would sedate your nerves. But those words ignite that fuel inside you. You press your fingers still coated in slick to his lips, and he opens his mouth graciously, letting his tongue swirl around your digits with a gracious hum that vibrates your skin. Your other hand drops to his chest just before where the gash begins and holds onto it with a tremorous touch.

Hunter pulls away with a resounding ‘pop’ that makes you cringe, but not pull your eyes away.

“Delicious,” he remarks.

Your face is hot again and Hunter is smiling wide, but you’ve figured out by now he means no malicious intent with his mannerisms. His hand reaches out, cradling your face 

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Hunter admires you with a glint in his eye you’ve never seen before. Sure, you’ve seen affection— plenty at this point— but there’s a tenderness to his words as he continues. It still doesn’t feel fair to not return the compliment, however.

“You’re one to talk.”

The only response you get is a scoff.

“Have you ever seen yourself?” He asks, posing the rhetoric as if you’d go out of the way to compliment yourself. It’s hard to feel anything more than pretty when you have the most handsome man trapped between your thighs. 

Hunter doesn’t budge — states it like a fact, as though he truly believes it. “I always get ravenous just looking at you.”

“Oh,” You reply dumbly. “I… I didn’t think.” Your ability to talk to Hunter improves after getting off for him, it seems. 

“You thought wrong,” he replies, shaking his head slightly with a smile. He leans his head down, looking better at your face before reaching with his palm to hold your cheek with hands so calloused they feel soft. 

“You’re a capable woman, a great addition to the batch–” Your cheeks heat up, and he smiles. “--And I think you’re beautiful. Mesh’la. That’s what that means.”

Your hand crawls up slowly against his arm, unknowingly following the pattern of his skeleton tattoo before your much smaller hand is placed against his.

“Hunter…” You whine.

He tilts his head, that goofy smile still stuck on his face. “What?”

“You flatter me.” With a shake of your head, you unpeel yourself from his lap, and Hunter whines so, so soft as you do to the point you almost leap back onto his lap again.

“I’m being honest,” Hunter insists, lazily using the underside of his blacks to clean his spend off his skin and the bandages. You’re standing idly, stupidly, and you know he’s waiting for you to say something— and you do, you do, but you don’t know what.

“Well, thank you,” you finally answer, attempting to compose yourself. You awkwardly place your feet back into the holes of your pants, pulling them up in a swift motion that leaves you put away wet, but you care very little at this point. 

You look up at Hunter, appreciatively looking over his features, before a forlorn feeling fills your stomach when you gaze down at his lips. You felt them delicately graze against your ear, wrap around your fingers to gently suck and lap at the spend coating them, yet you haven’t felt them against yours once.

He notices the look on your face.

“Something up?” He asks.

In retrospect, it must’ve been a rush of confidence through your veins after having him in such a vulnerable state only a moment ago, but you truly don’t know where your next words come from.

“Can I have a kiss?”

You expect, hope even, for Hunter to be thrown off his rhythm so he can be on the same level as you for once. Rather he takes a step closer to you, his hand methodically wrapping around the back of your neck again, thumb pressing the juncture between your jaw and throat for that extra leisure, feeling your pulse as he pulls you in for a kiss.

In your dreams, Hunter's kisses are wholly devouring. But in reality, it’s warm, tender, brimming with an underlying passion you least expected. As his lips press against yours, you can feel the velvet caress of his skin, the exchange of breath between the two of you that makes you hum into him.

His other hand rises to gently stroke your back before pulling you closer, and you feel so enveloped in his embrace that neither of you will be harmed again. You press your foreheads together and pull away, each taking slow, savoring breaths.

Truly, you never expected to be in this situation.

“...I don’t want this to be a one-time thing,” you mutter shyly, a bashful look on your face. It’s that little smile, that damned voice of his, that delivers the final blow, sending you back into his striking orbit.

“Of course,” Hunter tells you, smooth as ever. “I still haven’t gotten to be inside you.”

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[starry-crossing-zone]

Love Finds a Way - Hunter

Summary: Hunter thought that he lost you in the Jedi Purge. But then he sees a familiar face. Length: 2.6k Warnings: Mentions of Jedi Purge; Mentions of Death; Amnesia; Scars; Hunter's Undefined Heightened Senses; Hunter is Bad with Emotion; Angst; Female Jedi Reader

“Don’t tell me you spared the padawan because of her,” Crosshair rasped.

The temperature in the Batch Batch’s barracks instantly dropped several degrees. Hunter continued to stand by the window, not dignifying him with a response. But the sharpshooter wasn’t going to just drop it. Crosshair walked forward, not unlike a predator about to leap on its prey.

“She’s a part of it, isn’t she?”

“Crosshair, stop it,” Echo warned him, but Crosshair was not deterred.

“Are you willing to throw everything away for her? Turn your back on the Empire, on your brothers, on your purpose for her? A traitor?”

“She’s not a traitor,” Hunter interjected, finally turning around. “She fought for the Republic, just as we did. Side by side with us, with other clones, and there was never a word against her.”

“But you were always her favorite pet, weren’t you, Hunter?”

Crosshair squared up against his older brother, relishing in the hidden rage that he could see boiling beneath Hunter’s surface. The button was right there and Crosshair was going to press it over and over again. Until Hunter finally snapped.

“If she was so popular, maybe the clones were kind enough to aim for her head.”

Hunter’s fist swung around and slammed into Crosshair’s gut, causing the sniper to fold over, clutching his stomach. But when Wrecker moved forward to break them up, Crosshair dared to grin at Hunter. Ready to deliver a second blow, Hunter silently glared at Crosshair. But then Wrecker grabbed and set Crosshair on his bed like a petulant child.

“Take it back, Crosshair,” Wrecker warned, pointing a finger at him. “She was your friend too.”

Crosshair glared up at Wrecker before turning to look over at Hunter. But Hunter was too busy staring forlornly out the window at the Kaminoan storm. Probably wallowing in thoughts of her.

“Pathetic,” Crosshair muttered under his breath, knowing that Hunter could hear him.

*~*~*~*

It was late, at least on a standard rotation cycle, and it was Hunter’s turn to be on watch. Sitting in front of the computer, he started to slowly type. Tech had hacked into the Imperial system earlier and gave Hunter instructions on how to navigate through the database. And now that Hunter was alone, he needed to do some investigating on his own.

Finding the list of Jedi, Hunter scrolled down it with a heavy heart, wincing when he saw familiar names. Continuing on, he paused when he found the name that he was looking for. Your name. And then his eyes landed on the big, bold, red word beside it.

TERMINATED

Hunter closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, the fight leaving his body. He sat there, wallowing in pain, before sitting up again. And even though he knew that it wasn’t healthy, he clicked on the report.

The clones under your command had attacked you while you were pursuing Separatist stragglers who crash landed on an Outer Rim planet. You managed to get away from them and stole a speeder, which they then shot down. You crashed into a lake and your body was never recovered.

Hunter stared at the hologram image of you that accompanied the report. You looked stoic, cold, and calculating. Completely unlike the woman that Hunter knew. But he supposed that erasing the Jedi’s compassion and humanity was just another part of the Empire’s propaganda.  

“Who’s that?” Omega called from her perch, causing Hunter to look up at her.

“Just a Jedi that we used to serve under,” Hunter explained softly, looking back at the hologram. “I thought that there was a chance that she was still out there.” Hunter powered off the computer and turned back to Omega. “What are you doing up? Did you have a nightmare?”

“Not really,” Omega stated with a shrug of her shoulders. “Is your friend still out there?”

“No, it doesn’t look like it,” Hunter replied quietly.

“I’m sorry, Hunter.”

He nodded curtly, forcing a smile to urge Omega back to sleep. But when Tech awoke to take over watch, he found his brother staring at your hologram again.

*~*~*~*

“It is unlikely that we would run into any Imperial entanglements out here,” Tech stated, leading the way down the stairs of the Marauder. “This planet is mostly farmers and not ones that provide any product of high value. Mostly standard grains.”

“Does that mean that they have food?” Wrecker sighed, rubbing his stomach.

“I would assume so, yes,” Tech replied, typing away at his datapad.

“Let’s go explore then!” Omega exclaimed, running down the gangplank. “You said that the largest city is right there, Tech?”

“The term ‘city’ might be inaccurate given the low population density, number of buildings, and other indicators of a traditional urban center,” Tech stated, not looking up from his typing. “But, yes, the closest organization to a city is in that standard direction.”

Echo and Hunter pulled up the rear of the group as they headed into town. Echo glanced worriedly at Hunter. He had been quiet ever since Tech mentioned this planet and even Omega hadn’t been able to pull him out of his brooding. And a quick check of the Imperial database clarified why. At least, if one knew where to look.

“Are you alright?” Echo asked Hunter as they walked towards the city.

“I’ll be fine.”

“You should try to learn to be convincing before Omega asks you that,” Echo replied quietly.

Hunter sighed and looked down at the dirt path. They walked in silence for a few more moments, both keeping a close eye on Omega, before Hunter finally let some of the load off of his shoulders.

“I have the coordinates. For where it happened.”

“How far is it from here?”

“Two hours by speeder.”

“Whenever you feel that you’re ready to go,” Echo stated gently, keeping his voice low, “just give me a signal. I’ll distract the others.”

“Thank you, Echo.”

They reached town and looked around at the various stalls and short buildings scattered around. There were a few supplies that they needed and so the Bad Batch split up. Hunter walked off on his own, searching for some part that Tech knew that this small planet would not have. But it allowed him some time to think, or brood, so he didn’t mind.

Hunter walked around the small mechanic market in the village, at least trying to look like he was putting in effort to find the part. He was in the middle of inspecting a part for sale, which wasn’t the one that he had been sent for, when a voice broke through the mist and clutched his heart.

“Can I get you anything?”

With his advanced hearing, Hunter was accustomed to tuning out the useless background noise and focusing on only what he needed or wanted to hear. And normally, he tried to block out the useless background conversations.

But yet that voice stuck out. Its familiarity haunted him and Hunter found his legs moving on their own, following that voice like it was a siren song.

“Byn, Table 3 is asking for more of the soup.”

“Did you want another napkin?”

“Can I get you a refill?”

“Thanks for coming!”

Following the voice, Hunter paused when he turned the corner and found an open-aired restaurant. There were a cluster of tables spread out in front of a white tent. There were some customers milling around, but it was mostly quiet.

And then there you were, appearing with the sun glowing behind you. It was you. He knew it was you. It had to be you.

Even though you wore civilian clothes now, he knew that it was you. Even though your hair was shorter now, he knew that it was you. Even though there was now a jagged scar across your cheek, he knew that it was you. And when you turned your head and he finally caught a glimpse of your eyes, his knees nearly buckled under him.

It was you. You were here. You were alive.

“Hunter?” Tech’s voice cut in, jolting Hunter out of his thoughts. “Hunter, do you copy?”

“I can hear you,” Hunter finally responded, pressing the button on his commlink.

“Are you alright? It took three tries for you to respond,” Echo pointed out, causing Hunter to look over at you again.

“Meet me at my coordinates. I’ll explain when you get here.”

Soon the Bad Batch took their seats at a table in the open-aired restaurant. Hunter’s legs bounced nervously as he waited for you to walk over, earning worried looks from Echo and Omega at his unusually anxious fiddling. Omega had only been given a brief overview of your history with the Bad Batch, as she was never there to witness it in person, but it was easy to see how important you were from Hunter’s reaction. She had never seen him like this before.

You walked over to their table with a polite customer service smile. Hunter held his breath, waiting for you to recognize him—how many men had half of a skull tattooed on their face? Or of Wrecker’s size? But as you passed out menus and treated them like any other patrons, Hunter felt his hope quickly dash.

“Welcome. I’ll be your waitress. Here are some menus. If you have any questions, I’ll be happy to answer them for you. Otherwise, I’ll give you a minute to look it over.”

You gave them another kind smile before walking off without even a small trace of recognition for any of them. Hunter stared after you with a broken expression.

“She didn’t recognize us?” Wrecker asked softly.

“There is still a statistical possibility that our waitress is not her,” Tech pointed out calmly.

“It’s her. She smells just like her. I know it. I know that’s her,” Hunter insisted, causing Tech and Echo to share a concerned look.

“Then why didn’t she recognize you?” Omega asked quietly, voice barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know.”

*~*~*~*

“You ever seen those patrons before?” Byn, the head chef of the restaurant, asked you as you loaded up another order onto your serving tray.

“No, why?”

“They seem to have a staring problem. Especially dark and broody.”

You glanced back at the table in question. The Bad Batch, once they realized that you were staring at them, quickly turned back to their meals, trying to appear normal. Save for Hunter, that is, whose gaze lingered, until Echo elbowed him stiffly in the side. Turning back to Byn, the man who had taken you in after your accident, you shrugged your shoulders.

“They’re probably just staring at my scar,” you mumbled, adjusting the plates on your tray.

“You let me know if they say anything to you.”

“I’ll be fine. I’m a big girl. I can handle them.”

Walking over to their table again, you placed down some of their plates, before turning around to grab the rest. But feeling Hunter’s gaze on you again, you turned around briefly, holding your serving tray to your chest. Echo once again elbowed Hunter in the side, causing the sergeant to turn to him with a sour expression.

“You’re going to scare her away if you keep staring at her like that,” Echo reminded Hunter quietly.

“I can’t help it.”

“Well, try to, before she calls the authorities on a man who looks like he wants to eat her.”

When you returned a second time, you placed a plate down in front of Tech and then Hunter. He thanked you quietly, causing you to nod and smile. Placing Omega’s plate down last, you turned to conduct your rounds of the tables.

“What do we do?” Omega asked Hunter, who was still staring after you. “She doesn’t recognize you. How do we get her to do that?”

“Based on the report of her supposed demise, it would not be out of the question that she likely suffered severe injuries as a result of the crash,” Tech began to infodump. “If that woman actually is her, then she clearly sustained trauma to her face, as demonstrated by the large scar on her cheek. It would therefore follow logically that she may have sustained head trauma in the crash as well, which would explain why she does not appear to recognize us.”

“So, there’s still a chance that she could get her memories back,” Omega suggested, but Tech did not look convinced.

“I am not certain. Head injuries are not simple to treat. And if that woman is in fact her, she would have been without her memories for several months now. And I would assume that given the simplistic nature of life on this planet that she was never properly treated at a professional medical facility for her injuries, which would likely exacerbate her memory loss and other symptoms.”

“Get to the point, Tech,” Wrecker grunted out.

“It is a possibility, perhaps even a high one, that she might never recover her memories. In part or in full.”

“But we have to try,” Omega insisted, slowly turning back to Hunter. “Don’t we?”

“I would raise an ethical concern about doing so,” Tech stated, adjusting his goggles.

“And what would that be?” Echo asked gruffly.

“If we are able to restore her memories, that will include the ones where clone troopers attacked and nearly killed her. And we will also have to inform her that her entire culture and civilization were destroyed along with most of the people she considered her family and that she will never again be safe in the galaxy as a Force wielder.”

Hunter stared down at his plate as Tech continued on with his explanation.

“While restoring her memories may provide us with a satisfactory outcome, she does not appear to be in distress here. As far as we can see, her other symptoms are not affecting her quality of life. And as the Empire has her listed as deceased in their database and she is seemingly unaware of her abilities, she is safe here. On the other hand, if she comes with us, there is a very high statistical probability that she will not be.”

“Maybe so, but is that our decision to make?” Echo pointed out, causing everyone to turn to him. “Because speaking as the only person here who’s actually forgotten who they were, and not by choice, I wouldn’t choose peaceful ignorance over the truth.”

“Well, what would she want?” Omega inquired, looking up at Hunter. He turned his head to meet her gaze, but couldn’t find the words.

“How is everything over here?” you asked kindly, walking over to the table.

“Can I ask you something?” Omega questioned suddenly, causing you to turn to her.

“Sure.”

“If you have the choice between remembering everything from your life—even all of the bad stuff—or not remembering anything but being happy, which would you pick?”

You froze at her question, tensing up as the scar on your face burned. Sensing your unease, and after working through his own shock at her question, Hunter scolded Omega.

“She didn’t mean any harm by it,” Hunter tried to assure you.

“Oh, no, it’s fine,” you laughed off, waving your hand. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

You walked away and carried on with your work. But you couldn’t help but raise your hand to your scar as it continued to pulsate and burn after Omega’s question. Glancing over your shoulder at the Bad Batch, you found your eyes landing on the dark and brooding figure who looked exhausted and dejected. You looked down at the dirt, feeling responsible somehow. But then Byn called your name and you had to go back to work.

*~*~*~*

Night had fallen on the quaint planet and Hunter sat outside of the Marauder, mindlessly whittling at a piece of wood with his vibro knife to pass the time. He tried sleeping, but after tossing and turning a thousand times, he decided for a change of scene. Hunter studied the design that he carved when he heard a speeder in the distance. Standing up from his seat, Hunter stared out at the night landscape with narrowed eyes.

A speeder came to a stop a few meters from the Marauder and Hunter crept forward, moving to intercept the figure. But when he smelled your familiar scent, he paused. Stowing his vibro knife away, Hunter stepped into the light emitted from your speeder. You set your helmet and goggles on the seat of the speeder bike before turning to meet his gaze.

“Can I help you with something?” he asked quietly.

“You tell me.” You stared at him with a familiar fire in your eyes. “You know who I am, don’t you?”

“Yes,” he confirmed softly after a moment.

“Good,” you stated, resting your hands on your lap. “Because I don’t.”

Part 2

[orangez3st]

Sitrep: Caffeinated

Sergeant Hunter × GN!Reader 

✧ Summary: It's really really late but you're still awake working, and Hunter isn't too pleased about it.

✧ Tags & Warnings: established relationship, fluff, why are you still awake fic, eepyfic (somewhat?), omg zest is writing tbb, no warnings! just hunter’s girldad concerns™

✧ Word Count: 1.0k

✧ A/N: OKAY idk what came over me to do Hunter for this one 🤔🤞🏼 this is based on my experience (again lol, and here's a similar one with Cody). I think it's only fair that I'm finally trying to write something about CF99, since I don't have the balls enough to write about the Omegas yet (trust me this was almost my sweetie baby Darman 😆). Anyway, enjoy this one! ❤️

Masterlist | Read on AO3 | Hunter divider by @snotbuggle

Hunter's startled awake to a cold side of the bed next to him.

Deep breath fills his lungs as he stretches, the pleasant buzz coursing from the top of his head down to the tip of his toes underneath the covers. Eyes still adjusting in the dark, he thrusts his hand forward again, to your side of the bed. He pats it just to make sure. Still cold. You're really not there.

Then almost on autopilot, he gathers his focus, or whatever 0300 consciousness can trust him with. He's not even trying, but he can feel your presence a little far from your shared bedroom. Your study. But you've padded the walls with soundproof mats so you wouldn't disturb his sleep when you work late into midnight while blasting your altpop playlist. Quite an effort, but still. Not that Hunter dislikes it, but it's 3 in the morning, for gods’ sake. You should've been asleep.

So he makes the effort, too; to pull on his sweatpants and make his way out of your bedroom, a little more than barely awake. The corridor's lights are off to minimize the electricity hum so Hunter could sleep. Barefooted and releasing a slow sigh that might come from slight disappointment, your boyfriend pads toward your study at the end of the corridor. And as expected, the door slides open.

What he doesn't expect, though, is how quiet it is. Well, not entirely. The steady machinery hum coming from your holocomputer is buzzing in his ears—he’s just awakened and his control isn't at 100% so pardon him, please—and yet among the softest of noises including your breath, there isn't any music blasting from your speakers.

“Sweetheart.”

You whip your head around so fast that Hunter develops a new fear of you accidentally breaking your neck right there on the spot. Okay, he won't do that again.

“Hunter.” For a split second it looks like you're about to smile, but realization washes over your face and turns your expression into worry. “Oh. Oh, gods. Did I wake you? It's so late, though—really late. Did one of these soundproof mats fall off or something?”

“It's really late,” Hunter presses on, almost interjecting you and his voice a little raspy from waking up so suddenly, his arms folded across his bare, half-inked chest. “Do you know what time it is?”

“Yep!” you cheerfully quip from your chair, looking around the room for the chrono—which is to your left and up on the wall—but you end up finding the one in your holocomputer instead. “Um. It says 0328 here.”

“Exactly,” he sighs, opting for a gentler approach. And well, there he approaches you, his nose alerting him of a smell of caf that just grows stronger each step he takes. Ah. No wonder you're really jittery. But it really wouldn't come as a total shock. You always surprise him but, sure; that's what makes your relationship so colorful and never boring.

But for the love of the divine cosmos, you can be so stubborn at times.

Standing in front of your seated form now, Hunter caresses your face softly to show just how much he's worried about you and your health, but your caffeinated self merely smiles so tightly at him, so innocently, your lips stretching end to end.

He sighs. “You're going to hurt… yourself one day.”

“It's just one caf.”

“One,” Hunter deadpans, his eyebrow arching at you pointedly. “Then why do I smell that you've had four already? You intending to sleep or not? For the next 48 hours?”

“It's just—” you resist a groan, swivelling between your work on the screen and your boyfriend's puppy dog eyes. “Okay, I've got deadlines. And my brain's at its full creativity capacity when it's past 2200 and I just don't wanna miss it by getting sleepy in that hour so I took caf.”

“I understand your problems. I really do.” Hunter gently takes your hands, and kneels in front of you between your legs. “But still. You didn't need to take that much, and you need your sleep.”

“I can always take afternoon naps.”

He shakes his head. “Day naps aren't always good for your circadian rhythm, sweetheart. Okay?” His hands are squeezing yours, adding to his level of affection and concern for you. “You take that too often, it's affecting your health too. You sleep too late too often; obviously it does, too.”

Mentally, you're trying to hold onto your ever-charged streams of ideas and paragraph openings and real excellent bridges, but accidentally waking up Hunter only makes you extra guilty. Your boyfriend needs all the peace and quiet to rest, and the last thing he needs is you and your pigheaded tendencies sprouting out even more concern that add to his current running list of anxieties.

“Okay,” you relent, reaching to brush a strand of his brown locks behind his ear. “Really sorry that I woke you up, though.”

A small smile of relief on his lips is such a welcomed sight—for a moment there, you feel lucky. Fortunate. Not every person out there would give so much concern for their significant other's wellbeing, but you've earned yourself Hunter—a leader whose job is to make sure everyone's in tip top condition. You wonder if this is similar to one of his duties, but then again, he is a soldier. And you love him for his insistence.

“It's fine,” your beloved says, leaning forward to give you a peck on the cheek, and another to the corner of your mouth. He eyes your empty water glass, and makes that the next to-do in his mental list. “Five minutes. That's all I can give you. Then you're gonna lie down with me.”

The idea of lying down next to Hunter and encased in his strong arms is enticing that the caf in your body is banished away almost immediately, and fatigue begins to take over. Your body would buzz uncomfortably and once you wake up complaining about it Hunter would put in the I told you so smug face the whole day. It's like magic. It's familiar, it's welcomed, and ironically what makes your relationship feels alive, despite the complaints and all. It's a certain kind of beauty.

A soft chuckle escapes you, and already, you're fighting a yawn. “Copy that, Sarge.”

Bottom divider by @/enchanthings

Author rant: As I was finishing this up it was 0329 and I actually took a sachet coffee at 2300 to work on my internship report with the necessary Writing Big Brain™ and oh sweet God it’s a heckin bad idea I need more sleep 🛌🏽

Taglist: @yoursrosie @hellfiresky @filamentlights @msmeredithrose @heidnspeak @lucyysthings @emmaw18 @leiopython-rat

A/N: You can request for x reader in my askbox! If you're interested in my clone x reader oneshots you can sign up as well to be tagged of future works. (Link provided ⬆️)

[thegreymarveljedi]

Who’s seen the pics from the new Bad Batch comic???

The boys look so hot. Like holy shit whoever is doing this is doing a good job👀🤤

[meshla-cyarika]

Can I be honest for a second and say that one of my biggest fanfiction pet peeves is when someone will write their character or the reader insert as someone who should in theory be really badass (for example a Jedi or a Mandalorian, or an Avenger, or a soldier/fighter in general) and then make them really weak and basically not be able to handle themselves at all? Like come on realistically these mfs should be able to kill someone. Maybe this is just me being a girl who isn't girly, but I just want a character like this who can actually defend themselves and doesn't cry and need to be picked up by their s/o all the time.

[areyoufuckingcrazy]

Hiya! I absolutely love your writing and always look forward to your posts

I saw that request about the commanders catching you with their helmets on and I was wondering if you could do that but with the bad batch?

Again, love your writing. I hope you have a great day/night!

Hey! Thank you so much—that means a lot to me! 💖

I actually was planning to include the Bad Batch too but wanted to start with just the commanders first.

⸻

HUNTER

You weren’t expecting to get caught.

You were standing in the cockpit, wearing Hunter’s helmet—not for mischief, really, but because you were genuinely curious how he functioned with his enhanced senses dulled. You wanted to know what it was like to see through his eyes. To feel what he felt.

The helmet was heavy. Too heavy.

He walked in mid-thought, and you froze.

Hunter didn’t speak. He just stood there, half in shadow, his brow furrowing slowly like he was processing an entirely new battlefield situation.

You didn’t say anything either. You just… stood there. Helmet on. Stiff-backed. Guilty.

Finally, he stepped forward.

“…That’s mine.”

You took it off and held it out sheepishly. “I wanted to see what you see. It’s filtered. Muffled. How do you live like this?”

Hunter took the helmet from your hands and gave you a long, unreadable look.

“I don’t. I adapt.”

Then he brushed past you—close, deliberate—and you swore his fingers grazed yours just a little longer than necessary.

⸻

WRECKER

“Whoa!”

You heard the booming voice before you could even turn.

You were in the loading bay, helmet pulled low over your face as you tried to figure out how the heck Wrecker even saw through it with one eye. It was like wearing a bucket with a tunnel vision problem.

He charged over with the biggest grin you’d ever seen.

“Look at you! You’re me!”

You pulled the helmet off, grinning. “I don’t know how you walk around with this thing. It’s like being inside a durasteel trash can.”

“I know, right? But it looks great on you!”

He took the helmet back, turning it in his hands, then gave you a wide-eyed look.

“You wanna try my pauldron next?! Or lift something heavy?!”

You laughed. “Maybe next time, big guy.”

Wrecker beamed. “You’re so getting the full Wrecker experience.”

You weren’t sure what that meant, but you were both strangely okay with it.

⸻

TECH

You had only meant to try it on for a second.

But you made the mistake of reading one of his datapads while wearing it. And once the internal HUD booted up? Well, curiosity took over.

Tech returned from the cockpit to find you hunched over in the corner, still wearing his helmet and scanning system diagnostics.

His voice was clipped. “You’re tampering with active interface systems.”

“I’m learning,” you shot back, not looking up.

He blinked, then stepped closer, fingers twitching in that nervous way he did when he wasn’t sure if he should be impressed or horrified.

“You activated my visual overlay filters.”

“I figured out the encryption pattern.”

Now that caught his attention.

He slowly knelt beside you. “How long have you had it on?”

“…Twenty-three minutes?”

He swallowed. “And you’re not… disoriented?”

“Nope. Just slightly overstimulated.”

There was a pause.

Then, quietly: “You may keep it on. Temporarily.”

You turned. “You trust me with your helmet?”

He cleared his throat. “Don’t make it a habit.”

But he was already adjusting the fit at the sides of your head.

⸻

ECHO

Echo did not find it cute.

He found it concerning.

The helmet wasn’t just gear. It was part of his reconstructed identity—a thing he wore not because he wanted to, but because he had to.

So when he saw you on the edge of his bunk, wearing it—your legs swinging slightly, gaze distant—his chest tightened.

“What are you doing?” he asked, voice rougher than he meant it to be.

You looked up, startled. “I didn’t mean to be disrespectful. I was just… wondering what it’s like. Living with this.”

He stepped forward slowly, kneeling to your eye level. “It’s not something I’d want you to understand.”

You pulled the helmet off, placed it in his hands. “I didn’t think about that.”

He let out a quiet breath, then shook his head. “No. You did. That’s why you’re here thinking about it.”

You gave a soft smile. “I wanted to know you better.”

He swallowed hard. “You already do.”

⸻

CROSSHAIR

You knew exactly what you were doing.

And that was the problem.

You sat in the sniper’s perch in the Marauder, elbow on one knee, head tilted just slightly as you stared down at the deck below—wearing his helmet.

You heard the footstep. The sigh.

“Really?” His voice was lazy, drawled out like he wasn’t fazed, but there was a subtle tension underneath.

You didn’t look at him. “I wanted to see what it was like. Looking down on the rest of the world.”

He chuckled once, dry and sharp. “And? Is it satisfying?”

“No. It’s lonely.”

Crosshair was quiet for a long moment. Then he climbed the ladder halfway, leaned against the edge of the platform.

“Don’t get comfortable in it.”

You turned your head, voice just a little softer. “Why not?”

“Because if you wear it any longer, I might start to like it.”

You handed it back.

But you were both thinking about that line for the rest of the day.

[dindjarindiaries]

Damn Good Drinks

summary: An unfortunate mistake rewards you with a fortunate encounter, and this undercover soldier is nothing like you could have expected.

pairing: hunter (the bad batch) x reader

tags: meet-cute, alcohol mentions/consumption, mentions of harassment, flirting, suggestiveness, protective hunter, one (1) gratuitous steamy kiss, tech is always at the scene of the crime, pre-tcw s7

rating: T

word count: 3.556k

main masterlist • hunter masterlist

It was another rowdy crowd tonight. You really should’ve known, considering the fact that the tourist season was nearly upon your town already. With the war still raging on in the galaxy, people were flocking here by the hundreds, eager to get away from the conflict on their own homeworlds.

You heaved a sigh as you carefully balanced the tray of drinks you’d just collected from the bar. Wrestling your way through these crowds was far from your favorite thing to do, but it was better than being stuck behind the bar itself for countless hours. It was, ironically, safer this way, too. Not that you could ever fully escape the wandering eyes, comments, and even the touches, but the freedom to run or fight if necessary was a comfort nonetheless.

Pitiful little excuse mes wouldn’t do you any good out here, so you simply announced your presence by jutting your elbows and shoulders into the people you were trying to pass. You could at least finally see the table you were heading for, which was a gift in a crowd this thick, especially at such a late hour.

You were just thinking about how excited you were to finally go home for the night when you suddenly heard a commotion beside you.

“Hey, watch where’ur goin’!”

“No, you watch it!”

You rolled your eyes. There was nothing quite like a classic ego-off. Hopefully, they both lost—and hopefully, they kept you out of it.

But you should’ve known better than to think you’d actually have good luck with that.

The guy closest to you got shoved by the other, and the timing couldn’t have been worse. Caught in the crossfire, you were also shoved right into something solid, hard enough to make every drink on your tray splatter on you and whatever, or whoever, you’d run into.

Unfortunately, you were in the center of the cantina, so it couldn’t have been a wall. It had to have been a person, a patron who was most likely going to want to fight you, now.

You were about to curse the pair of egotistical maniacs out when you suddenly realized the person you’d run into was steadying you with a hand on your elbow and another on your opposite arm.

“You alright?”

You spun around to face them, but you were too distracted by the fact that nearly the entire front of their white shirt was now stained in the purple hue of one of the drinks you’d been carrying. 

You let out a worried gasp and reached from the rag you kept tucked into your pocket. “I’m so sorry, sir! Let me get that for you.” As you tried your best to dry and blot out the stain in the patron’s shirt, you couldn’t help muttering in contempt. “Kriffing boys spilling some damn good drinks over a pointless ego battle…”

You only stopped when you realized that your efforts were to no avail; this poor person’s shirt was stained for good. You let out a sigh, but the breath got caught in your throat when you blinked a few times and realized exactly what, or who, you were looking at.

You weren’t trying to ogle this man, you really weren’t, but it was hard when the first thing your eyes were stuck to was the sight of the now-transparent fabric of his sleeveless tunic clinging to perhaps the most toned set of muscles you had ever seen before in your life.

Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration, but the more you observed, the more you were convinced that you weren’t actually being hyperbolic.

The man’s face was just as sculpted as the rest of him, though half his face was cast in the dark shadow of what looked like a giant skull tattoo, matching the one that was printed on his red bandana. That matched the scarf hung around his neck, fabric that his dark, shoulder-length hair was brushing against. He still had his hands on you, which were wrapped up to his elbows in a light-colored fabric, but the touch was soft enough to indicate that he meant no harm.

Thank the Force that the last thing you caught were his eyes, because you wouldn’t have been able to look away if you’d done that first.

“‘Damn good drinks,’ huh?” The corners of the man’s mouth started to rise as his brown gaze flickered over you. “Do they taste as good as they look on you?”

Your brow shot up at that. Maybe it was the mere fact you were attracted to him, or that you couldn’t sense any ill intent like you could with the others, but you weren’t disgusted by his advances.

No, they made the temperature in the room rise to a really dangerous height.

You returned the once-over and offered a thoughtful hum. “Maybe, but they definitely don’t taste as good as they look on you, so don’t be too disappointed.” You huffed and focused on righting the capsized cups on your tray. “Can I get you one as a token of apology?”

The man shifted slightly in front of you, and with a quick glance, you realized he was blocking you from getting hit by another shove that came from a new direction. He absorbed the movement as if it were nothing. You furrowed your brow, watching as his arms and shoulders barely flexed at the motion.

Suddenly, you were realizing that this had to be the body of a soldier. But he obviously wasn’t a droid, and he certainly didn’t look like a clone…

“You don’t owe me an apology.” He nodded, making the stray hairs that stuck out of his bandana bounce against his forehead. “Wasn’t really my brightest idea to wear a white shirt to a place like this, anyway.”

You chuckled and shrugged. “Well, thank the Force you did.” You winked and gestured with your head towards the bar. “Can I still get you that drink, anyway?”

He smiled. “Sure. I’ve got some time to kill.”

You looked down when warmth started to rush into the tips of your ears. That downward glance could only last a moment, because soon, you had to shove your way through the rowdy crowd. Amazingly, though, they started to part much more easily for you, and it only took a quick look behind you to realize why.

This man was just about shoving everyone aside and casting warning glances to anyone who dared to react to it. Even just the way he was walking screamed danger to a potential opponent.

He was definitely a soldier, but for who or what, you weren’t sure. At this point, you really didn’t care, because your heart was speaking a lot louder than your brain when it came to him.

You brought him to the furthest edge of the bar, a private enough corner where you could get behind it and make him a drink yourself. You’d still have to remake the ones you spilled, but if you were being honest, that wasn’t really your biggest priority right now. They could wait a few extra minutes.

“So…” you stole a glance up at him, “you got a name?”

He huffed and rested his wrapped forearms upon the bartop, leaning forward enough for you to hear him over the din of the rowdy patrons. “You can just call me Hunter.”

You hummed and stared more than you really had to at the cups you tossed between your hands. “Is that what you are?”

“A bounty hunter?” He scoffed. “Have I made that bad of an impression on you already?”

You laughed at that. Only someone operating under some kind of honor code would have such a strong distaste for bounty hunters. You had no doubt now that you knew what he was.

“Then what’s a soldier like you doing out here, so far away from the front lines?”

“Who says I’m a soldier?”

You stopped what you were doing and looked at him with an eyebrow raised. “I don’t know, Hunter. Maybe it’s the giant tactical pack you’ve got slung on your back, or those heavily-trained arms you’ve clearly put on display.”

A light sparkled in Hunter’s eyes as the corners of his lips rose in a subtle smirk. “You seem to know a lot about arms.”

You returned his mischievous smile. “Only because I like staring at yours.” You nodded towards his stained shirt. “You want the drink that was spilled on you, or the one that got on me?”

Hunter looked down at himself and circled his jaw. He shrugged before he lifted his head and met your gaze again. “You choose.”

You considered his words for a moment as you searched his eyes. In the lighting of the bar, they glowed more amber, which only made them even more captivating. You fought not to lose yourself within them as you ultimately nodded. “Alright.”

You focused on getting all the right ingredients together, all the while sensing the heat of his gaze on you. Fighting back another smile, you decided to question him further.

“Care to explain why you don’t look like a clone when you clearly are one?”

“So long as you tell me why your heart’s beating so fast.”

That gave you pause. He was right—your heart hadn’t stopped hammering against your chest ever since you got your first good look at him—but there was no way he would know that without feeling your pulse himself, or at least taking a strangely accurate guess.

You narrowed your eyes at him as you gripped the glass and shaker tighter in your hands. “How would you even know that?”

Hunter’s brow lifted. “Would you call me crazy if I told you that it actually answers your first question?”

You relaxed again and gave him a nod. “Fine, you’ve got my interest.” You tried to calm your racing heart, if only out of spite.

“I’m an enhanced clone. My squad and I were each given different traits that are ‘desirable’ in soldiers.”

You spared him a single glance. Thankfully, he didn’t look uncomfortable discussing this. That wasn’t your end goal, even if you did at least want to know what you were getting yourself into. “And what does that have to do with my heartbeat?”

Hunter chuckled. “Well, I’m named after my enhancement.”

As you shook the concoction inside the mixer, you pondered his words. A hunter, and a heartbeat…  and shoving people aside before they’d even come close to you…

“You’re telling me you can… hear my heartbeat?”

Hunter’s head bobbed. “In a way.” He tapped his fingers along the bartop. “Enhanced senses. My strong suit is electromagnetic frequencies, but I can pick up on some organic things, too.” He nodded at you. “The louder a heartbeat, the easier it is for me to hear it.”

You pretended to scowl for the sake of your dignity as you strained the drink into his glass. “Yeah, well, it’s hard not to have a racing heart in a place like this.”

Hunter hummed. “That’s fair.” He gestured with a thumb to the crowds behind him. “Is it always like this?”

You exhaled heavily and shook your head. “It wasn’t before, but the longer the war goes on, the worse it gets. We’re an escape for a lot of people, it seems.”

You picked up the glass and slid it over to him.

“Here. Let me know what you think.”

Before you could pull your hand off the glass, Hunter placed his there, his fingers brushing yours as they drifted by one another. You caught his stare, and you could’ve sworn he sent you the quickest wink you’d ever seen before he drew his first sip.

And there went all chances of slowing down your racing heart. He was certainly gonna notice that with his apparent enhanced senses. Damn it.

You tasked yourself with remaking the other patrons’ drinks while Hunter offered his review. “It is damn good.” He shrugged in your periphery. “But still not as good as it looks on you.”

You laughed. “Well, that’s because it’s the one I spilled on you.” You spared him a quick glance of approval. “So something must be wrong with your ‘enhanced’ taste buds.”

You enjoyed watching him hide his new flush by taking another sip of the drink, but the weight of his identity was beginning to settle in. A clone soldier, an enhanced one, was here. That had to mean the war wouldn’t be far behind.

“Since you’re here,” you paused for a second as you shook another drink, “does that mean I should be getting ready for the war to come to my doorstep?”

Hunter grew more serious as he shook his head. “No. You’re safe here.” He gestured towards the cantina’s only entrance. “We’re just gathering some intel.”

“‘We’?” You smiled down at the drinks. “So, that squad of yours is around here, too?”

“Not here, but yeah, they’re on-world.”

With the drinks now finished, you set them on the tray and took a second to look Hunter in the eye. There was something here, and there was a lot he was giving you—and you needed to know what the real reasoning was behind it.

“Why are you telling me all this, Hunter?” You tilted your head at him. “Seems like pretty confidential information for a random civilian like me to know.”

Hunter held your stare even as he tipped his head back to empty out the rest of his glass. Once he was done, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m a good judge of character.”

You blinked at him a few times before smiling. What a simple yet profound way of establishing trust.

Thankfully for him, he was right, and any of his secrets would die with you.

“Well, I’ve got to get these back over there, so…” You lifted the tray and glanced at the table at the far end of the cantina.

Hunter nodded and pushed himself off the bartop. You prepared to bid him farewell, but instead, he lingered. “I’ll clear a path for you this time.”

All you could muster was an appreciative glance before Hunter stepped forward and essentially pushed your way through the crowd. No one even got near you this time, certainly not close enough to make the drinks topple over. Hunter hung back once you eventually reached the table, and you quietly thanked him as you passed him.

“Here you are.” You kept your customer service voice engaged as you dealt out the drinks and smiled. “Sorry about the wait. It’s a bit crazy here tonight.”

The patrons just shrugged, clearly unaware of the extra few minutes you spent flirting with the enhanced clone trooper rather than making their drinks. You tucked the tray under your arm and turned around, surprised to see that Hunter was still there waiting for you.

You gave him another once-over. That drink stain on his shirt really stuck out like a bantha in a porg nest, if it was even possible for anyone’s eyes to get past his eyes, face, and arms.

The look he was giving you in return was either saying the same thing about your clothes or something very different, a little more similar to what you wanted him to be thinking.

“You know,” you took a step closer to him, “we should have some extra tunics from our uniforms in the back if you want one to cover…” you gazed down at his stain, “that.”

Hunter’s gaze glowed dangerously. “Oh, yeah?”

You nodded slowly. “I mean, we could at least check.”

Hunter smirked as he echoed your question from earlier. “We’?”

You waved him off. “It’s too crazy here tonight for anyone to care that you’re back there.”

Hunter shrugged. Apparently, he was easily convinced. “Alright. Where’re we headed?”

You pointed at a door on the back wall, and Hunter nodded before he pushed through the crowd once again. At this point, it was hard to imagine that he wasn’t listening to your heart practically flying through your chest. You didn’t even know why this was happening, especially so fast, but you had to echo Hunter’s earlier sentiment: you were a good judge of character.

What was one stolen moment with an enhanced clone trooper?

Hunter stepped aside to let you key in the passcode on the doorway of the storage room, and once it slid open, you led the way inside. After verifying that you were alone, you waved Hunter in. The door closed behind him, and after securing it, you turned to him.

It would’ve been impossible to get a good look at him in the dimness of the space, anyway, but you were both gravitating to each other before any looks could be given. You cupped his chiseled jaw at the exact moment he held your waist, closing the gap between the two of you and giving into the magnetic pull that had first forced you two together in the night’s rowdy crowds.

And you had never been more grateful for two egotistical maniacs’ stupid quarrel before.

Hunter kissed you like he’d known you for ages, exuding a breathless amount of passion that should’ve been impossible for a soldier as seasoned as himself. All you could do was try to match that energy, parting your lips and surely making a mess of the hair he clearly wanted to grow beyond what you assumed was regulation. You let one hand stay there, but the other was too curious, tracing the same lines of muscle your eyes had been beholden to ever since you first saw him.

During a quick break for air, you pulled back until you hit the wall behind you, this time urging him even closer than before. The second his mouth was on yours, you lost all sense of anything else, only able to think about the warmth you found there—and the feeling of his hips caressing yours in the very same rhythm.

You weren’t sure exactly how those senses of his worked, but somehow, he was igniting every single one of yours in a way you’d never experienced before.

You were in the middle of lowering your hands from his neck to seek a more fervent exploration when he caught both your wrists, holding them in an achingly gentle yet firm grasp as he lifted them over your own head. When he pushed himself into you even more intensely, his tongue in your mouth and his hips on yours, you could feel it so much more without being distracted by touching the rest of him.

Yeah, this was definitely a man who understood senses.

You were stuck between proposing and offering him all your possessions when the sudden chiming of a comlink sounded from Hunter’s belt. The two of you broke apart with heavy breaths, his forehead still close enough to yours for you to feel the wisps of his hair brushing against your skin as he clearly fought the urge to sigh.

“Sorry. Give me just a second.”

Hunter’s voice, which was already fairly rough as it was, was even rougher from your passionate moment as he released your wrists and stepped away. You couldn’t have stopped watching him even if you wanted to as he unclipped the comlink and activated it.

“Tech, report.”

“I have acquired the necessary data.” You raised your brow at the voice that spoke on the other end of Hunter’s comm. They sounded even less like a clone than Hunter himself did. “We may make our egress, unless there is any additional research you wish to pursue.”

“Yeah, I’ve got a loose end I want to tie up.” You scoffed at that. Loose end? “We'll meet back at the Marauder.”

“Affirmative.”

Hunter sighed as he set the comlink back on his belt. “Sorry about that.” He ran a hand over his head. “Duty calls.”

“Yeah.” You shrugged. “Gotta’ tie up your loose end, now.”

Hunter froze before he let out a heavy exhale. “Kriff, that sounded bad, didn’t it?”

You couldn’t help laughing. “Hey, you’ve done better than most by catching it so fast.”

Hunter chuckled and stepped back over to you. “Here.”

He took something from his belt and reached for your hand, setting it inside your palm and closing your fist around it. It was something circular and metallic, judging by how cool it was against your skin.

“To keep in touch.” Hunter nodded at you. “Next time, the drink’s on me.”

“It was technically already on you this time.” You gestured with your eyes to his stained shirt.

Hunter huffed with amusement. “You know what I mean.”

You smiled at him. “Sure.”

You opened the door for him, and he stopped to give you a wink you wouldn’t miss this time before he disappeared into the thick of the crowd. You leaned your shoulder against the threshold, staring down at the communicator in your grasp. Biting back a smile, you slipped it inside your pocket.

Maybe there was an advantage to the war getting a little closer, after all.

hunter tag list: @zenrobbins0021 @cw80831 @yunggoblin @maddiedrmr @Molmcb @jellybeanstacey0519 @violetlilly2020 @singularattitudeofasafetypin

[zoeykallus]

Hi, Zoey! Are your requests open? I had an idea after watching Kenobi.

There’s a scene in Kenobi where the Inquisitors show up to a market place in search of Jedi. They throw a knife at the shop owner knowing that the Jedi hiding among the patrons will stop the knife from harming him. It would be interesting to see that with Hunter.

Maybe Hunter and Cid’s bartender have a relationship. Bartender was weary of the clones at first but warmed up to them and liked Hunter. They just started dating when Inquisitors show up. They use the knife trick on someone (maybe even Omega) and bartender is forced to expose themselves as a former Jedi.

I’d love to see how Hunter would react to that.

oh oh oh oh... I got something in my head!

*Running in circles*

I actually had a scene like this in my head for a while now, I put the whole batch in there but focus on Hunter as a love interest.

Hunter x Jedi/Reader - One-Shot - The Things We Do For Love

Warnings: Angst/Canon Typical Violence/Blood/Fluff

No one knows about your past with the Jedi order. You are forced to drop your cover, when you try to save Hunter's life.

_______

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

_______

It's strange, life after Order 66 - hiding, pretending to be someone else. And it doesn't get any easier every day as you'd hoped, at least not at first. Cid's Bar, that's where you ended up at some point. You work behind the counter. You serve all kinds of strange clientele. Cid's Bar is like a meeting place for all kinds of scum in the Galaxy. Life has changed, a lot. Priorities change. The code after you've lived so long is nowhere near as important as surviving and belonging somewhere so you're not completely alone in this universe. But you can't open up to anyone, not exactly the most decent people come and go here. So you keep a low profile. You even flirt here and there to keep up appearances, but at the same time, you keep everyone at a distance. And then, to make matters worse, these clones turn up. Automatically, every alarm sounds inside you. Order 66 flares up in your memory, sharp and painful. It takes so much willpower to stay calm, to not let anything get to you, so much trauma hangs in every thought of clones. No one knows who you are, no one even suspects that you were part of the Jedi Order.

And yet these men surprise you, especially one of them who leads the group. He is so thoughtful, so serious. Hunter always seems to be lost in thought, trying to keep everything under control, to ensure safety. He rarely leans back and really takes a breath. He's almost always worried and tense, you can feel it in the Force. But eventually, he thaws out, you somehow strike up a conversation, and you quickly learn how much depth and kindness lie beneath that brooding, skeptical exterior. Hunter can even be funny, very observant and above all else, he's decent, probably one of the most decent people to ever come and go in this bar. You catch yourself admiring him. Your eyes meet more and more often, you talk to each other more often, even flirt. But this flirting is different, it's not fake, it feels real, exciting and for you, with your past, completely new and almost reckless. You are both obviously interested in each other, just as you are both shy and cautious in a certain way. Weeks, even months go by before your hands touch for the first time, and he asks you out.

You can see it in his face, he can hardly believe it himself, hidden behind his smile is a nervous boy who is incredibly afraid of being rejected by you. The big, brooding leader has a great weakness, you. Of course, you say yes, you can hardly resist this special man, clone soldier or not, Hunter has so much good in him, he attracts you like a magnet, not to mention his good, bold looks do the rest.

It starts like any other evening. More or less. After your first date, Hunter usually comes into the bar smiling, automatically seeking your gaze as soon as he walks through the door. You can't help it, you smile back every time, accompanied by a warm tingling in your stomach, warmth rising in your cheeks and ears.

But something is different today. There is a presence in the room, dark, determined, hard as stone, surrounded by sharp edges. You sense this presence in the Force, its intransigence. You look around in alarm. The bar is a little busier today, your gaze wanders more or less inconspicuously around the room. Then you see him. You meet cold eyes, eyes as blue as sapphires, their gaze steely and sharp, so intense that you automatically lower your own gaze and distractedly clean a glass. But you know this person has already noticed you. Right now you're feverishly thinking about your next steps and how to get out of here alive without putting anyone in danger. Hunter frowns worriedly, watching you. He can tell something is wrong. Tech is talking to him, but he is focused on you right now. He leaves the table where he was sitting with his brothers and is about to come over to you when he hears a voice say clearly and distinctly, not shouting but loud enough, "CT 9901"

You feel hot and cold, a shiver runs down your spine, you're sure Hunter feels the same way, you can see it on his face. All the heads at the Bad Batch table look up in surprise, shock and alarm. Hunter turns to the voice that seems to be coming from one of the other tables a few meters away. A man suddenly stands up, slowly, unhurriedly, confidently. Like a predator who is sure of his prey, who has no reason to be afraid, no need to hurry. Neither you nor Hunter like the body language. What surprises you, however, is that this man, in his strange, dark uniform, is not looking for you as you expected, but obviously for Hunter and presumably his brothers. "All 99ers in one room, this must be my lucky day. And not only that, I feel like I'm getting a little something extra on top of that," the somber stranger says, his voice deep and clear, almost melodic.

The room falls silent, as if the presence of this man demands it. With a confident little smile, the man pulls a knife from his belt, the first movement is slow, almost sluggish, but the throw comes so suddenly that you barely have time to react. It has become so quiet in the bar that you could hear a pin drop. But when the blade suddenly seems to stop in mid-air barely a centimeter from Hunter's eye, a murmur goes through the room. You're sure you can hear someone whispering the word Jedi.

Hunter only lets out a quiet, "What the hell", he can't help but stare at the blade for a moment. He should be dead, he realizes, that vibro blade should have drilled into his skull, but there it is, hovering right in front of his face. Out of the corner of his eye he sees your outstretched hand, your concentrated gaze, and he begins to understand. You stopped the blade from killing him, you stopped it in its tracks. The stranger's cool voice draws you both back to him. "I knew I sensed a Jedi in the room, and I knew you couldn't resist to show yourself" In the next moment everything happens very quickly, there is no time to think, to process, to make plans. The man reaches out his hand, and you feel his grip on you in the force. You are swept over the bar counter, with a pull on your body, trough the force, knocking over two tables on your way to the floor. Everything around you happens in a haze, you hear Hunter cursing angrily, blaster shots, the distinctive buzz of an awakening lightsaber, screams from the other patrons. A red glow fills the room. The smell of burned flesh.

Your left side hurts. You landed hard on the tables when the Sith Force-wrenched you over the counter, maybe you cracked a few ribs. There are shards on the surrounding floor from the glasses that went down. As you try to pick yourself up, you accidentally reach in and cut your right palm. The pain is sharp, clear and distinct, bringing you back to reality from your surprise. You jump to your feet, skillfully, supported by the force that flows through and envelops you. It's been a long time since you've used the Force and your abilities in this way, but it's as if you've never let it out of your fingers, the lightsaber sliding into your hand, its blade glowing blue with its characteristic hum. Blood runs down the hilt of your weapon from the open cut on your hand, it burns, but you ignore the pain. You feel Hunter's gaze, he is still confused. He knows what you are now, but he certainly hasn't processed the news yet. At the moment, you all have other things to worry about. Did the Sith come alone? Are there Stormtroopers waiting for you outside the bar?

You concentrate on the force, on the intentions of your opponent. Everything you feel emanating from him is sharp, dark, glowing hot. He is driven by rage, and the moment your lightsabers cross, you feel all the hatred in his attacks, which are admittedly much stronger than you expected. You've never fought a real Sith before. The first touch of your lightsabers is like an electric shock, an incredibly hard impact, a wave of fury that seems to roll over you from your opponent. The hilt of your weapon is slippery with your own blood, you have to grab it hastily with both hands so that the sword doesn't slip from your grasp or your opponent will decapitate you. For a moment, Hunter's concern penetrates your perception, but you shut him out and have to concentrate. A quick exchange of blows follows, attack, parry, retreat, attack, parry... The handle of your weapon becomes increasingly slippery with your own blood. Then it happens, another hard blow, you parry, the impact of the blades causes your weapon to slip away.

You hear Hunter yell out, hear the shock in his voice, the terror in that simple word, "No!" His blaster lies on the ground, sliced in half by the Sith's blade. Hunter has pulled his knife from his belt in a split second, lunging in the Sith's direction. The blade of your attacker hovers just in front of your neck, you hold the Sith and his weapon in this position with all the strength you can muster with body and force. Your heart races, adrenaline flows through your body. There are only millimeters between your life and death. Millimeters before the red lightsaber could sever your head from your shoulders. Hunter reaches an arm around the Sith's neck and jabs his knife into his side. The sergeant's voice is dark and smoky as he rasps, "Not on my watch"

The red lightsaber goes out and falls to the ground. Hunter kicks it aside, away from the Sith's hands, and lets the mortally wounded attacker slide to the ground. You see Hunter's chest rise and fall, still electrified, while your adrenaline suddenly subsides and your hands begin to tremble a little. You concentrate on the force, your center, and banish the trembling from your limbs. With a sigh, you look at the man on the ground, who is taking his last breaths, his cold, sapphire eyes still looking up at you with hatred, but there is also reluctance in them, surprise, defiance. Echo kneels down next to him, feels his pulse. "Quite dead," he says dryly, and with a glance at your extinguished lightsaber, he asks, "Care to explain?" "Take it easy, Echo. I guess it's obvious why we're only finding out now, it would have been dangerous to reveal the truth," Hunter says calmly and steps closer, carefully grabbing your hand and looking at the cut.

"That needs stitching," Tech says with a sideways glance and adds, "I can do it when we get to the Marauder, we should get out of here, more will come" The others lead the way, Hunter and you follow at a slight distance. You can't quite believe it yet. CF99 accepts you into their midst, no ifs, no questions, yet. Admittedly, Echo is still a little skeptical, but he always is. But you're part of it now, you're no longer alone. The thought spikes a feeling of euphoria in you. "Looks like Clone Force 99 has its own Jedi now," Hunter says with a wry smile. You crack a smile, liking the idea, forgetting for a moment your bleeding hand and the drops of blood that fall to the ground and on your tunic. Crosshair, who is walking ahead of you, casts a jaunty glance over his shoulder and says dryly, "Just don't expect me to follow your orders, General." He says it with a wink, even if his words sound a little hostile, he is friendly to you, you sense his intentions in the Force.

You say quietly, "I wasn't going to give you orders, you have a working system as a group, I wouldn't dream of changing it" The Sniper laughs softly, "Clever Jedi" Hunter drops back a little, and you do the same, sensing that he has something to say to you. After a little while, on your way to the Marauder, he says seriously, "You gave up your cover to save my life, thank you" You chuckle and say softly, "The things we do for love" Hunter listens in surprise and asks, "So our dates aren't part of your cover?" You've opened up to him in the force, feeling his pulse, the tingling under his skin as if it were your own. "I would never play with your feelings, not even as a cover," you say seriously. Hunter breathes a sigh of relief and asks, "So nothing will change between us?" "I'd like us to continue our relationship and see where it takes us," you reply with a warm smile. You feel his relief, his affection, and you breathe a sigh of relief as well.

"That's what I want too," he says, carefully grabbing your hand and taking another look at the wound. "That looks really bad," he says, frowning. Wrecker comes rushing up and murmurs, "Now hurry up, or our Jedi will bleed to death!" Impatiently, he grabs you and lifts you off your feet to carry you to the Marauder. You make a small, startled noise. "Wrecker," Hunter says softly, admonishing. "What? The little Jedi got hurt!" Wrecker returns unperturbed and carries you to the Marauder. "It's just a cut on my hand," you say, waving it off. "It's bleeding a lot," Tech comments as Wrecker sets you down next to him and points at your stained tunic. Tech already has medical supplies ready, including a needle and thread, but first Echo cleans the wound. You grit your teeth, because the cleaning stings a lot. Echo says knowingly, "Don't worry, it'll be done in a minute"

Wrecker asks curiously, "Is the Jedi officially with us now?" Hunter sits down opposite you and watches as your wound is taken care of, he says, "I think so" "But I'm not really a Jedi anymore. There is no longer a Jedi order and I haven't been following the code for a while now, at least not to the letter," Hunter's eyes meet yours at the last words. Your heart beats faster as a smile twitches at the corner of his mouth. "We're not really regular clones either, we're not really soldiers anymore," Tech says lightly. Crosshair sticks a toothpick in his mouth and mutters, "Welcome to the defect squad, I have a feeling you'll fit in perfectly here"

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

________

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