masterjedilenawrites

[masterjedilenawrites]

Strawberry Fields

Blackout x reader | 1.4k words

Content: fluff, reference to a dark past

Inspiration (from @rosemarynightmares): Also my ideal date is going to one of those public strawberry picking fields where you can just... walk around and fill your basked with strawberries, and afterwards go home and bake strawberry cake, and I'm going to drop that in this context.

Blackout had never eaten a strawberry in his life. Had never so much as seen that kind of fruit. As soon as you had discovered that, you'd set out on a mission to rectify it right away.

"I don't see what the big fuss is," he commented in the seat next to you. You were cruising down the highway, grateful that he had some days off so soon after your last holo-chat. Perfect timing for the plan you had. "What, are they like some magical food that cures all ailments and reveals the wisdom of the universe?"

He was laughing, while you were taking this mission very seriously.

"They're strawberries," you said, not really helping him understand but not sure how else to put it. "How do you not know what they taste like? Haven't you ever had anything strawberry flavored?"

He gave a playful frown.

"No strawberry ice cream?

He shook his head.

"Strawberry flavored medicine?"

"Medicine is flavored?" Now his frown was real as he mulled that one over.

You huffed in disbelief. "They're a very common fruit on a lot of planets. I don't get how you've never even heard the word before."

"I'm a clone, sweetheart," he laughed again. "My life's been ten years of MREs, veggie caps, and canned beans."

"Veggie caps?" you asked, scrunching your nose.

"Trust me, you don't want to know. Point is, it's not exactly fine dining in the army."

You just shook your head, muttering under your breath, "they're strawberries," one more time before hitting the gas just a little more in anticipation of your destination.

Soon enough, you were pulling into the designated lot. A little market stood off to the left with visitor signs on how to proceed. The rest of the surrounding view was nothing but row upon row of strawberry vines.

Blackout didn't seem to notice the impressive view just yet, too focused on trying to run around to open your door before you could. He was always insisting on helping you get out, even if you were the one that drove.

"Isn't it gorgeous?" you said in awe, still holding onto his hand even after you were out. Blackout turned to face the same direction you were, giving an approving nod.

"Well, where do we start?"

You went through the little market building to collect your baskets and pamphlets with instructions and notes on picking etiquette. The market also had straw hats for sale, which you of course convinced Blackout to buy for the two of you to wear.

From there, you were practically skipping through the rows, hand-in-hand with Blackout as you scoped out which spot you wanted to start your strawberry picking journey. You'd never done this before; it had always been a secret wish of yours to try one day, especially once you'd found yourself a partner to share the moment with. Though your relationship with Blackout was relatively new, you still felt comfortable enough with him to bring him along.

"How about... here?" you finally stopped in the middle of a vine that seemed to have some good, ripe berries. Blackout shrugged, trusting your call.

You leaned over a vine and twisted off a good-sized strawberry, and then ceremoniously presented it to your man.

"Open wide!"

He raised an eyebrow at the sight. "That's it? You can just eat it like that?"

You nodded enthusiastically. He still seemed suspicious.

"You're not messing with me?"

"Why would I do that? Now stop lollygagging and just take a bite!

Blackout shrugged again. "Yes, ma'am."

He took the whole thing into his mouth, right out of your fingers, and you gave a little laughing gasp.

"What?" he said through his munching.

"You're not supposed to eat the stem!"

"I knew you were messing with me..."

"I told you, take a bite," you laughed.

He moved his mouth around a bit, finally getting the leafy green stem between his teeth and then swallowing the rest. You rocked on your feet in anticipation.

"Well?"

He tried shrugging again, but you saw the playful smirk on his face as he spat the stem into the dirt.

"Good, right?" you pressed.

"Yeah..." he relented a little, making you laugh again.

Time passed pleasantly by from there. You both moved along the row, just a few feet apart, inspecting it for any strawberry that looked just-right. You'd pinch it off its vine and plop it into your little baskets, and keep moving along. Occasionally you'd chat about random thoughts that popped into your mind... a memory from your childhood, a new fun fact you'd just read about on the holonet... Blackout would nod or chuckle along appropriately, but otherwise stayed silent. You knew he liked to focus on the task at hand and didn't feel bothered by you supplying most of the conversation. You were just glad he'd agreed to tag along.

After a while, you looked over and noticed the tips of Blackout's fingers were stained red. You giggled. "Looks like you got some blood on your hands, soldier."

Blackout immediately stiffened. He glanced over at you, seemingly perplexed at your joke, before looking down at his hands to see what you'd meant.

"Oh."

It was like a dark shadow had crossed over his face as he clenched and unclenched his hands, and then quickly wiped them against his pants. He finally looked back at you and gave a sort of apologetic smirk before returning back to his basket.

You hadn't realized you'd been holding your breath as you watched him. You knew there were parts of his life he hadn't shared with you yet, and perhaps never would. He'd told you in the beginning, when you'd first started making confessions and commitments, that he was a soldier, not a hero. You thought you'd understood what he meant, but every once in a while he'd give you signs, much like this one, that there was so much more to his story, buried deep within. You wouldn't pry into it, not now. But you hoped someday he might let you have a little peek. Just to see. Just to understand.

"Well, I think I'm about done," you quickly tried to break through the tension you'd unintentionally created. You brought up your basket for him to see just how many strawberries you'd collected by now.

"Wait, how'd you get so many?" he reeled. He held up his basket in comparison, which wasn't even half as full as yours.

"What have you been doing this whole time?" you laughed.

"I was only picking the really good ones!"

He seemed to be back in better spirits so you shook your head in amusement and threw your arms around his neck.

"Well, I'm still proud of you," you teased.

He pretended to be miffed but was already taking off your sunhat and bringing your head to rest against his chest. He rocked back and forth with you playfully. The warm afternoon sun was starting to beat down, a few wisps of wind providing some relief. Combined with the fresh farm smells and the soreness in your hands from a good day's worth of work, you were feeling more and more at peace by the second.

"Blackout..." you hummed, trying to keep your timidness as bay. "This was a nice date, right?"

He pulled your shoulders back so he could get a good look at you.

"Every date is nice with you."

You blushed a bit at that.

"And..." he continued, sighing dramatically, back to teasing already. "Yeah, I guess this date specifically was fun, even though I lost..."

"Lost? It's not a competition." You rolled your eyes and swatted at him.

"Sure, whatever you say."

"Blackout!"

He let you go so he could raise his hands in mock defense. "Leave it to a winner to say winning doesn't matter."

You crossed your arms and just shook your head at him.

"Anyway, we done? Can I go take a nap now?" Blackout tossed you your hat and picked up both baskets eagerly.

"Oh no, mister. This date isn't over yet."

"No?"

"Nope. What do you think I'm going to do with all these strawberries?"

He shrugged. "Heck do I know. Flavor your medicine with them?"

You didn't even react to that joke. You walked up and took the baskets out of his grasp. "Time to teach you how to bake!" you said before turning on your heels and marching confidently back to the market to pay.

Blackout just chuckled to himself, watching as you walked for a bit before finally following. You were driving him crazy, you and all your cuteness. At this rate, he may just end up falling in love. Wouldn't that be a crazy thought?

~ ~ ~

Everything Tag: @damerondala, @dangerousstrawberrypie, @fallingforthem, @harleyevanstan, @imabeautifulbutterfly, @justanothersadperson93, @misogirl828, @itsagrimm, @error6gendernotfound, @theroguesully, @clonesimp, @techie-bear

+Clone Bois Tag: @marvel-starwars-nerd, @pandora-the-halfling, @darkangel4121, @sobstea, @rintheemolion, @dionysuskid21, @jesseeka, @hanbetired, @thatmultifandomdumbass, @sarahtanmarvel, @call-me-a-fool, @lackofhonor, @theclonesdeservebetter, @hannahhearttcw, @salaminus, @arctrooper69, @katzs-current-obsession, @501st-rexster, @rebel-finn, @not-a-big-slay, @writing-positivelyexisting, @nekotaetae, @the-mom-friend-dot-com, @pickle-rick-y, @flowered-bicycles, @lucyysthings, @severalseashellsbytheseashore

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#1 year reblog #post-versary #technically from may 4 #but spreading out these reblogs the week before

[masterjedilenawrites]

I have a cuddles request. Female reader and Fives. Reader and Echo were crushing on each other. They never got past the crush stage though. Reader and Fives were buddies too. They liked to flirt, tease and joke around. Now Echo is gone though, and Reader and Fives are devastated. Cuddles prompted 5, 15 and 20. Really they both just need shoulder to cry on. Someone to hold on to.

Snuggle Drabbles #3

Fives & reader | 840 words

Content: angst, grief, hugs for comfort

Prompts: Burying face in their chest, Squeezing them tightly, Clinging to them

Oh the huuuurt with this one! I made myself tear up a little 😥

The presence of absence... It was a thought you found yourself stuck on often these days. How you could feel emptiness, as heavy and distinct as an object in your hand. How you could see vacancy, an outline in the space of every room, your eyes drawn to the void like a moth to a light. How it was possible to notice him when he wasn't there.

Echo wasn't there. And yet, he was. His absence made him present. Existing only as a memory projected into every space he should have been but no longer would be. The voice only you could hear. The face only you could see.

That wasn't entirely true. Fives still felt him, too. You could tell. Even though he did as he was trained and soldiered on, falling into step by the brothers who were still alive, never bringing up the ones who weren't, never spending time on the things that were out of their control, like life and death, and instead sticking to the things that were, like mission strategies and which MRE to have for breakfast... you knew he still noticed the presence of Echo's absence, just as much as you did. And you knew he was hurting just as badly.

They'd both been your friends, but it was Echo you'd dreamed of. Of kissing. Of loving. Echo with his sharp mind and sweet smile, just as no-nonsense as Fives was all-nonsense. Noble and steady and good.

And just when you'd gotten the sense he maybe returned some of your affections, he'd been taken away. Just like that. No more sweet smiles. No more dreams. Just you and his absence.

And Fives.

Some days you could follow his lead and pretend you didn't see the empty spaces. Other days it was like you had to stare through a ghost to even see the face of the living friend in front of you. Today was one such day. Fives had tried a joke, the first you'd heard a while, but all that landed with you was the absence of Echo's laughter. You waited to hear it and it never came. Neither did your own.

You could see Fives's throat bob as he tried to swallow. His hands came up as if wanting to take hold of you but not daring to reach through the space in between. You realized you couldn't remember the last time you had hugged each other in greeting, or felt his playful swat against your shoulder as he teased, or even the warmth of his leg against yours as he sat close to steal a bite of your food.

And then you realized Echo wasn't the only absence you now felt.

"I'm sorry," you rasped, your throat suddenly constricting with suppressed emotion.

Fives quickly shook his head in response. "It's okay."

You stood and stared at each other, unsure how to move forward. There was this thing in between you, a void that threatened to swallow you up if you dared cross it.

"I... I want you to be okay," he said after a while. And then, in a smaller voice, "Echo would want me to make sure you're okay."

You didn't think you could speak but you made yourself try anyway. "He'd want me to do the same for you."

Fives's mouth moved into a smile but it didn't reach his eyes. His eyes, instead, were watering, darting between yours and the walls around, as if searching for something. He wiped at them and then his beard, taking in a sharp breath through his nose, clearing his throat.

"I'm sorry," you heard yourself saying again. "I... I don't want to push you away..."

"It's..." he instinctually started to respond before stopping himself.

It wasn't okay. It wasn't okay to lose one friend and not have the other to lean on. The truth was, you were afraid. Afraid to walk through Echo. To fill the void with anything other than his memory.

"It's okay," he ended up saying.

It's okay.

Fives's mouth had moved but it was Echo's voice you heard. Clear and calm and certain. Delusion or not, it was all the permission you needed.

You threw yourself at Fives, not daring to think beyond your need to feel him. Your arms wrapped around his torso and squeezed his body tightly against yours. Your face buried into his chest. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. He immediately replicated every movement and held you with all the strength and care he had. Tears fell and mixed between you. Sobbing breaths heaved back and forth against each one another until they eventually ate each other up and left nothing but defeated sighs in their wake. Desperate, clinging grasps loosened into a tender but firm embrace.

You'd taken that empty space and started to fill it again. With a promise. With hope. And it was okay because you knew he was still there, too. An echo of every new memory you and Fives would make in his honor.

Every Character Tag: @dangerousstrawberrypie, @justanothersadperson93, @arctrooper69, @sleepycreativewriter, @techie-bear,

@theroguesully, @cw80831, @cdblake1565

Clone Bois Tag: @kaijusplotch, @rebel-finn, @lucyysthings, @marvel-starwars-nerd, @nekotaetae,

@severalseashellsbytheseashore, @lackofhonor, @flowered-bicycles, @foodmoneyandcats, @nahoney22,

@dangraccoon, @lulalovez, @aconstructofamind, @skellymom, @the-mom-friend-dot-com

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#star wars #the clone wars #fives & reader #fives x reader #echo x reader #echo & reader #snuggle prompts #cuddle prompts #snuggle drabbles

[masterjedilenawrites]

[masterjedilenawrites]

The Way to a Man's Heart

Wrecker x reader | 1.6k words

Content: fluff, food, and fun

Inspiration (from @rosemarynightmares): Also I want to cook for all the clones, but these vibes are the strongest with Wrecker, and, for some reason, Hardcase and Fives.

It was almost comical. Two decently muscular men and one incredibly burly one, all huddled around your small dinette, patiently awaiting a meal you'd insisted on making for them. Why, you weren't sure. You'd sort of blurted the proposition out the other day when they'd been talking about the lack of homemade meals in their diet. The thought of some of the GAR's strongest, most valiant soldiers not being able to eat a decent meal had not only sounded tragic to you, but also something you were more than capable of providing the remedy to.

At least, that's what you'd thought then. Now, standing in the middle of your tiny apartment kitchen, surrounded by several bubbling pots, unpackaged ingredients, and countless little spills and messes, you were wondering what in the galaxy you'd possibly been thinking.

You peeped your head around the corner to check on the status of your guests' moods. Hardcase's leg bounced underneath the table and even Fives had his hands fidgeting in his lap. Wrecker, surprisingly, seemed much more calm, though you knew it wasn't an easy feat for the gentle giant. His stomach was the size of a bantha and hardly ever felt satisfied. You'd need to hurry up your process before any of them broke the peace.

"Just a few more minutes!" you called out. You didn't know if that was enough time but felt the need to give them some indication you were trying to wrap up. The crostini's, at least, could be passed out soon, along with some beers, just to hold them over while you willed the chicken in the oven to cook faster.

"No rush, love!" Fives called back. "Take all the time you need!"

Ironically, one of the four timers you had going suddenly went off, its quick little chirps pulling you back into the fray of the kitchen. You shut it off and pulled the tray of toasted crostini's from the oven. Working swiftly, you dolloped the ricotta and hot honey spread on top of each one and sprinkled some sliced almonds and chives to garnish. Each was then placed neatly onto a serving tray. When you were done, though, you sighed in embarrassment. Normally this appetizer was too much for you to eat on your own, but looking at the small little sampling before you now, you knew the three soldiers in your dinette would clean this off in seconds. You should've got a loaf of bread apiece.

But you shook yourself from your worries. You had already added on an extra side-dish last minute, and changed your mind from cookies to cheesecake for dessert. Surely it'd all be enough once you were done.

"Don't worry, this is just the first course," you apologized as you walked out with the dish. "But something to hold you over while I finish up the rest."

"There's multiple courses?" Wrecker's eyes grew in wonder.

All three leaned forward to track the plate as you set it between them. You hid a smile at their eagerness.

"And how about some drink orders? I have a few different ciders and ales, some sodas...."

"Any kind of amber ale for me, please," Hardcase immediately put his order in.

"I'll take a good ol' port-in-a-storm," Fives added right after.

"And you, Wrecker?" you asked with an added sweetness to your voice. You'd be lying if you said you didn't have an extra soft-spot for the Batcher. In fact, if anyone had analyzed how this whole dinner situation had come about, they would've noticed you'd only invited the group after Wrecker had chimed in.

Wrecker's mouth was already full of 2 crostini's. He looked at you sheepishly as you addressed him and quickly swallowed enough to be able to respond. "Surprise me!"

You laughed and returned to the kitchen just as another timer went off. You had to take a minute to think which one that stood for. The potatoes? No... the homemade salad dressing. You twisted the knob of the appropriate burner off so the bubbling mustard sauce could start to cool. You also snuck in another peek at the chicken in the oven to see how that was doing. Still not golden enough.

You gathered up all the right drinks for the boys, deciding to mix together your favorite, the cold and creamy Lothal Spicebrew, for Wrecker. You laughed again as you brought them out, as the plate of hors d'ouerves was already demolished to just a plate of crumbs.

"Kriff that was good!" Hardcase was licking his fingers. The other two hummed in agreement.

"Yes, that was excellent!"

"Amazing!"

You blushed from their compliments, scooping the plate out of the way. "Well hopefully the rest of it will all be done soon. I'm sorry it's taking so long."

Fives brushed away your apologies. "Like we said, take your time."

"Yeah, we're not going anywhere!" Wrecker grinned.

Hardcase let out a belch, sending all three into hysterics as they started working on their drinks.

Your trip back into the kitchen thankfully set you into a good rhythm. The potatoes were finally boiled and you quickly mashed them up with the perfect amount of cream and butter. You gave the salad another toss and then started portioning it out onto some plates. The last-minute microwaved corn addition shortly followed. You were even able to get your cheesecake mixed and into the oven. The sounds of the boys' laughter and lively conversation from the next room kept you going, giving you the perfect motivation to work through the chaos in good spirits.

When the chicken finally, finally, was done, you carefully plated the last piece to your meal, drizzled the now cooled dressing onto the leafy greens, and started taking the plates out to the table.

"Dinner is served!" you announced. All your hard work, all your worries, all the messes you left behind, were now all worth it as you served the men at your table. "Prosciutto-wrapped chicken, creamy mashed potatoes, steamed corn, and a mixed spring salad with my special mustard dressing."

All three were speechless as you set their plates before them. Wrecker even had a bit of drool forming at the corner of his mouth. You held back the proud feeling that was swelling in your chest at the sight of them being so mesmerized by food you had made.

"And there's a bit more, so let me know if anyone wants second helpings," you gave a little wink, even though none of them were looking at you. At least, not until you went to head back into the kitchen.

"Wait, what about you?" Wrecker asked. You turned and saw him looking after you in concern. "You're not going to eat?"

"I've got a plate in here," you waved him off. "I've got to work on the dessert next."

"Aw, boo!"

"Yeah, you should join us!" Fives agreed.

Hardcase pulled out the lonely fourth chair and patted it enthusiastically. This time you couldn't help the smile that came out of you.

"Okay, just give me a few minutes to get the dessert in the fridge first."

You worked quicker than you ever had before, getting your cheesecake set up to cool, throwing a few of the empty pots in the sink to soak, and then joining your new friends at the table to eat. The next hour went by in a blur. Glasses clanked in salute. A chorus of compliments and satisfied hums poured out between bites. Laughter bounded between the walls as stories were shared. It was the happiest you'd felt in a long time, seeing how a simple meal - okay, perhaps chaotic and messy was more accurate than simple - could so easily impress these soldiers that you yourself were in awe of.

Everything was fantastic and incredible to them. Second helpings were brought out in no time. They asked a million questions about how you were so good at cooking. Wrecker, especially, seemed to have hearts in his eyes with every bite he took.

Eventually, your cheesecake needed tending to for the final showstopper of the night. You excused yourself to work on it, and a short while later, was surprised to find someone joining you.

"Anything I can do to help?"

Wrecker had piled up all the empty plates and was setting them gently onto the one corner of the counter you hadn't reached with your mess. He rubbed the back of his neck shyly.

"Um..." you looked around, not sure what else there was to do other than clean up, but you couldn't possibly ask a guest to help with that. Your gaze fell on the bag of pistachios you'd almost forgotten would be part of this treat. "Oh! Can you chop those up for me?"

Wrecker seemed glad to have something to do. He was very careful to follow your instructions on how you wanted them chopped and mixed in with the apricots, jam, and orange juice you had already been preparing. Together, you worked to spoon them on top of the cheesecake.

"You really are good at all this," he said, a kind of timidness in his voice. When you looked up at him, you saw a faint blush dotting his cheeks. "Do you cook like this all the time?"

"I honestly don't," you admitted, feeling heat rise in your own cheeks. You weren't sure why you were suddenly feeling shy. "It's just me here, and it's not as fun to cook for just yourself."

"Well you're welcome to cook for me anytime!" He barked out his usual jovial chuckle and you found your breathing settle back in response. You really, truly liked him.

"I would love that, Wrecker," you smiled up at him.

"Really? Anytime?" He was testing the waters, seeing whether you were genuine or just being nice.

You gave him a playful bump of your hips in reassurance. "Yep. Any time."

Much to your delight, Wrecker would take you up on the offer as often as he was able, leading to not only some lovely nights of cooking and company, but the start of a pleasantly sweet romance....

~ ~ ~

Everything Tag: @damerondala, @dangerousstrawberrypie, @fallingforthem, @harleyevanstan, @imabeautifulbutterfly, @justanothersadperson93, @misogirl828, @itsagrimm, @error6gendernotfound, @theroguesully, @clonesimp, @techie-bear

+Clone & Bad Batch Tags: @marvel-starwars-nerd, @pandora-the-halfling, @darkangel4121, @sobstea, @rintheemolion, @bowtiesandsandshoes, @dionysuskid21, @jesseeka, @hanbetired, @thatmultifandomdumbass, @sarahtanmarvel, @call-me-a-fool, @lackofhonor, @theclonesdeservebetter, @hannahhearttcw, @kaijusplotch, @salaminus, @arctrooper69, @katzs-current-obsession, @501st-rexster, @rebel-finn, @not-a-big-slay, @writing-positivelyexisting, @nekotaetae, @the-mom-friend-dot-com, @pickle-rick-y, @flowered-bicycles, @lucyysthings, @severalseashellsbytheseashore

(Join my tag list here)

#1 year reblog #post-versary #technically from may 4 #but spreading out these reblogs the week before

[masterjedilenawrites]

He Is Loved

Jesse x reader | 1.2k words

Content: hurt/comfort, fluff, some kissing and references to sex, one curse word, the healing power of hugs

Inspiration (from @rosemarynightmares): I want to hug Jesse. Like, he's hot as hell no questions asked, but I also just want to hug him. Like a long hug. And tell him that he's loved and that he's enough and wonderful exactly as he is.

Jesse wore his emotions on his sleeve. It didn't take a hyperdrive scientist to know what he was thinking or feeling. It was getting him to work through those feelings in a healthy way that was the tricky part.

But it was a part you alone had mastered.

Today it was a troubled energy he brought home with him. He'd spent most of the day in training and had only sent you a short response to your friendly message earlier about how it was going. So you weren't surprised to see his shoulders hunched and his jaw clenched, though you were still upset he was feeling that way. He immediately made his way to join you in the bedroom.

You yourself had done a little workout that day as well, and hadn't quite been home long enough to shower and get yourself more presentable. Still, your clone boyfriend pounced right on you, his neediness more apparent than ever as his hands and mouth roamed wherever he could reach.

"Jesse," you breathed out a little chuckle. "Let me freshen up first. I feel gross."

You were trying to pry him off you far enough to slip out from under him. But he only seemed to be spurred on more, sucking harder on your neck and clawing at your waist to get closer.

"You know I don't mind," he husked as he came off your neck and moved to make a matching mark on the other side. That's when you pushed back a little more.

"Jesse, please," you said. "I'll be quick."

He huffed, hanging his head against yours and breathing heavily. His grip on your waist loosened just enough to show he was relenting. He could never say no to you.

You wiggled away before you could change your mind. You knew he was frustrated, but you'd make it up to him once you rinsed off, got some fresh clothes, found some protection. You'd make it a long, special night, just for him, and his tenseness would be eased away.

But after you finished your business in the refresher, you found your man slumped on the bed where you'd left him. His shoulders were pulled forward as his elbows rested on his knees, his head hung low and his hands wrung together in absent-minded anxiety. He looked... defeated.

You gulped down your own worries at the sight. There could be any number of reasons pulling your boyfriend down into the dumps like this. It would take more than sex to truly bring him relief.

You said nothing as you slowly walked forward. Whatever troubled thoughts were on his mind kept him distracted enough to not notice you approaching until you were right in front of him. He straightened up in surprise, his hands already on their way to grab hold of your hips, to fall into the only routine he knew of for comfort. But you pushed past, took your stand between his legs, and pulled his head to rest against your chest.

"Baby..." you whispered soothingly, pleased to feel his arms snaking around your middle to return the embrace. "What's wrong?"

He didn't respond at first, only breathed you in deeply and released a sigh. Finally he mumbled into your flesh, "I'm fine. Just a long day. Just need to feel you."

His hands started to wander to your hips again and you pulled away, taking his head in your hands as you looked down at him. You could tell he was putting a lot of effort into relaxing his features, trying to give you more of that cheekiness he usually had this time of night. The longer you stared, the more unnerved he felt, and the more he tried teasing you with his touch on your hips.

You weren't going to let him fuck his emotions away this time. You let go of his face and jerked your chin to the bed. "Lay down," you gently instructed. "On your side."

He was perplexed but did as he was told, probably assuming this was some game you were initiating.

You circled around the bed, crawling into it behind him and settling yourself down carefully. Your damp hair dragged behind you on the pillow as you scooted closer to him. He was craning his neck, trying to see what you were up to. Eventually you sidled up right by him, pressing yourself against his backside, curling your arms around his muscular torso and pulling him into you, in what could only be described as a nice hug.

"It's okay," you whispered into his back. "Everything will be okay, beautiful. I'm here for you."

It was exactly what he'd told you, on probably a dozen occasions now. Any time you'd had a bad day, had made a mistake, had felt just a little too down on yourself... Jesse had been there to hold you close and tell you all the things you needed to hear.

Now that it was your turn to return the favor, Jesse didn't know what to do with himself. You could almost feel the way he wrestled with his emotions in your hold. His muscles tensed, his breath hitched. A tentative hand rested on the one of yours that splayed across his chest.

"You are wonderful, Jesse," you continued in a low, soothing voice. "So good and brave..."

His fingers started to curl around yours, his body started to curl into the embrace.

"You are perfect, just as you are. You are enough."

His breaths started to come out faster, his chest rising and falling quickly under your grasp.

"You are loved, Jesse. You are loved."

He let out a choked sob, shoulders trembling against you as he finally released whatever pained, ugly feelings he'd been harboring inside. You placed a few kisses along his back but otherwise let him have his moment, simply keeping your arms locked firmly around him as a reminder he was not alone.

It was a long time before Jesse's sobs petered out, before his breaths regained composure, and then it was another long moment of silence where you continued to hold him, unsure if he'd fallen asleep or was just resting with his thoughts. After a while, he finally let go of your hand and slowly shifted himself to roll around to face you. His face was a sight you'd never seen on the man before. Tear-stained and clearly exhausted, but also at peace. He'd found his catharsis at last. His eyes roamed over your own face for a moment and then he brought his hand up to comb through your hair.

"Thank you," he whispered so quietly. He moved his face in and brushed his nose along yours. "For everything."

You smiled. "Everything's okay."

He hummed in acknowledgement and then pulled away to look you in the eyes again.

"But if it's alright, I'd like to hold you now."

Your smiled widened as you immediately got yourself into position, turned so that he could gather you up in his arms as he did every night. His nose went straight to your neck, breathing you in and placing tender kisses at the top of your spine. You shimmed backward so you were flush against him and ready to settle down for the night.

"I love you," he said. "My beautiful, beautiful person."

~ ~ ~

Everything Tag: @damerondala, @dangerousstrawberrypie, @fallingforthem, @harleyevanstan, @imabeautifulbutterfly, @justanothersadperson93, @misogirl828, @itsagrimm, @error6gendernotfound, @theroguesully, @clonesimp, @techie-bear

+Clone Bois Tag: @marvel-starwars-nerd, @pandora-the-halfling, @darkangel4121, @sobstea, @rintheemolion, @dionysuskid21, @jesseeka, @hanbetired, @thatmultifandomdumbass, @sarahtanmarvel, @call-me-a-fool, @lackofhonor, @theclonesdeservebetter, @hannahhearttcw, @salaminus, @arctrooper69, @katzs-current-obsession, @501st-rexster, @rebel-finn, @not-a-big-slay, @writing-positivelyexisting, @nekotaetae, @the-mom-friend-dot-com, @pickle-rick-y, @flowered-bicycles, @lucyysthings, @severalseashellsbytheseashore

(Join my tag list here)

#1 year reblog #post-versary #technically from may 4 #but spreading out these reblogs the week before

[masterjedilenawrites]

#poll time #fanfiction #fandom #writing #reading

[masterjedilenawrites]

For the cuddles and snuggles prompts, I offer you number 19, hugging/holding them from behind, for either Rexy Boy, Fives, or Howzer (whichever one strikes the inspo!)? I think any of them being hugged from behind would be adorable and/or dorky <3

@eternal-transcience

Snuggle Drabbles #2

Howzer x reader | 550 words

Content: fluff, hugs, reader has a family

Prompt: Hugging them from behind

Howzer was perfect.

Standing so naturally, so confidently amongst your family. Easily laughing along to your dad's corny jokes. Flawlessly timing his compliments of your mom's home. Fitting in with the quirky and sometimes chaotic dynamic your family had as if he'd been here the whole time. You couldn't help but stop in your tracks, holding the salad bowl you were supposed to be preparing, and instead watching him with so much adoration you worried you'd collapse from the weight of it.

He'd been so nervous, too, meeting your family. It wasn't common for clones to be in a relationship, let alone one so serious as to warrant bringing a whole family into it. He'd had no idea that was even a thing you were interested in until you'd asked if he was ready. And then he'd spent the whole week asking questions. How was he supposed to act? What was he supposed to say?

So to see him like this now, so much more at ease, no trace of apprehension left on his relaxed features, also made you burst with pride. Your man was up for any challenge.

Eventually your dad left the conversation to check on the grill, and your mom decided to run to bathroom before dinner. You quickly snatched the opportunity. You sat down the salad bowl on the closest nearby surface and made your way up behind him. Howzer was distracted, gazing across the yard, and so he made a startled grunt once he felt your arms snaking around his middle from behind.

"What are you doing there?" he asked through the chuckle that followed.

You pressed your face into his back and smiled, knowing he'd feel it. "I just missed you, s'all."

"Missed me?" His hands encircled your arms, rubbing them gently. "You weren't gone that long."

"Felt like it," you mumbled.

He hummed. "Didn't realize dumping a bag of lettuce into a bowl was so taxing."

You had to release him briefly in order to swat at him for that. "Shh! Don't tell my mom it came out of a bag! She thinks I still have a garden."

His body started to shake with amusement in your hold. "Oh, is that what those weeds on your patio were supposed to be?"

You swatted again, only for him to capture your wrist and use it to pull you around to face him. You kept your body and one arm snuggly pressed against him as you moved.

"Hi," he smiled down at you.

"Hi," you whispered sweetly back. It was like you were sharing a secret. Just the two of you. It didn't even matter that your dad was likely sneaking looks over his shoulder or that your siblings would probably start teasing as soon as they made their way outside.

"You're perfect, you know," you said.

Howzer chuckled nervously. "I don't know about that..."

"You are," you repeated. It was fact.

Before he could protest further, you leaned back into him and hugged him fully. You turned your head to rest against his chest and for a moment caught your dad awkwardly trying to appear as if he hadn't been eavesdropping the whole time. You simply smiled and let yourself enjoy the moment for however much longer it would last.

Every Character Tag: @dangerousstrawberrypie, @justanothersadperson93, @arctrooper69, @sleepycreativewriter, @techie-bear,

@theroguesully, @cw80831, @cdblake1565

Other Clones Tag: @kaijusplotch, @lucyysthings, @marvel-starwars-nerd, @severalseashellsbytheseashore, @lackofhonor,

@flowered-bicycles, @foodmoneyandcats, @lulalovez, @aconstructofamind, @the-mom-friend-dot-com

Requester: @eternal-transcience

✨Join A Tag List Here!✨

🤗 Request a snuggle drabble here!

🍾 One Shots Master List | 🌙 Master List of Master Lists

#star wars #the clone wars #howzer x reader #snuggle prompts #cuddle prompts #snuggle drabbles

[masterjedilenawrites]

Hello Friend! I saw you reply to someone asking about requests, and thought you might be able to help me out! I'm currently a few days out from having a spinal tap (I got a needle jammed into my spine to take fluid, GROSS AND PAINFUL) and as an after effect, I've had a killer headache when not laying down. Apparently this is common, I was expecting a three day max, it has been five and I'm finally finding relief.

Enough about me, more about me: Can you consider talking about how the Bad Batch would comfort their significant other after having a spinal tap/other physically draining (No pun intended) medical procedure?

Oh my goodness, that does sound painful! 😟 I hope you're doing better now! You know these boys would just be the best caretakers for their partners during a time like this.

Hunter: Is perhaps even more miserable than you. He can't stand to see you in such discomfort, and even worse, he feels so helpless in not knowing what to do to ease your pain. What else can be done outside of medicine, rest, and time? If he knew, you'd best bet he'd do it. But since he does not, he fusses over you with frown lines and an unsettled feeling in his stomach. He'll do best if you give him some instructions, or simply make some room on your bed for him to saddle up and hold you through your recovery.

Wrecker: Maintains a positive attitude, a refreshing break from the concern and fussing you may get from others. He may worry about you in his own way, but ultimately he knows you're strong and will pull through this. So he'll focus on keeping your spirits high instead. Be prepared to be carried around a lot; even if you don't need to, it still makes him feel like he's helping. If laughing is too exhausting/painful for you, he'll tone things down and find other ways to bring you a gentler joy, like playing your favorite movie, or making you a warm meal.

Tech: Has your recovery schedule down to a science. He will dutiful administer your medicines like clockwork, will ensure you are balancing rest and activity, will check in on you frequently to gauge your symptoms. He may feel smothering at times, but it's all with the best intentions. It's the only way he knows how to care, to follow the prescribed recovery process so you don't have to feel this way forever. His calm and seemingly disconnected demeanor may end up being a good thing; you can whine and groan as much as you need and he will remain steady through it all.

Crosshair: Is almost as helpless as Hunter, he just hides it a lot better. You are his anchor in life, so he wants to be your rock in return. He'll push down his feelings of anxiety to take care of whatever need you have with swift and stoic attention. If you need some space or just some time to rest, he'll still be as close as possible in order to keep an eye on you. He notices every grimace of pain, each extra breath you have to take to get through the day. He'll be so relieved once you're back in full health. 

Echo: Is by your side through the entire experience, from the procedure itself to recovery and beyond. He knows all too well what the human body can suffer, how side-effects can cause complications or at least annoyance, and that recovering simply takes so much out of you, both physically and emotionally. Such an unpleasant time should not be experienced alone. He will hold your hand, wait on you hand and foot, reassure you as many times as needed... taking care of you as best as he is able. His devoted and tireless love will never be more apparent than in a time like this.

Everything Tag: @damerondala, @dangerousstrawberrypie, @fallingforthem, @harleyevanstan, @imabeautifulbutterfly, @justanothersadperson93, @misogirl828, @itsagrimm, @error6gendernotfound, @theroguesully, @clonesimp, @techie-bear

+Bad Batch Tag: @marvel-starwars-nerd, @pandora-the-halfling, @darkangel4121, @sobstea, @rintheemolion, @bowtiesandsandshoes, @dionysuskid21, @jesseeka, @hanbetired, @thatmultifandomdumbass, @sarahtanmarvel, @call-me-a-fool, @lackofhonor, @theclonesdeservebetter, @hannahhearttcw, @kaijusplotch, @salaminus, @arctrooper69, @katzs-current-obsession, @rebel-finn, @not-a-big-slay, @writing-positivelyexisting, @nekotaetae, @the-mom-friend-dot-com, @pickle-rick-y, @flowered-bicycles, @lucyysthings

(Join my tag list here)

#1 year reblog #post-versary #april 20

[masterjedilenawrites]

Fuck you Tumblr tags

#every month it's something new with these guys #apparently now you can't tag more than 5 blogs per line?? #wtf is this #messing up the formatting of my tags on my posts #unforgivable

[masterjedilenawrites]

I gotta cuddle/snuggle prompt 👀

29 with....🤔🤔🤔 Jesse? (Or maybe Mayday if you'd prefer)

Feel free to disregard if you dislike the idea

😘💜💜💜

Snuggle Drabbles (Snabbles??) #1

Jesse x reader | 350 words

Content: post-sex snuggles but nothing explicit, I'm keeping the read more off but will only tag my NSFW peeps just in case

Prompt: Putting ear over their heart

Thump thump.

Sheets were tangled between limbs. Sweat pooled in uncomfortable places. Clothes and holopads and inhibitions had been abandoned long ago.  

Thump thump.

This was new for the both of you. There was so much left to say, not even the passionate, intimate actions of the last hour had been enough to convey it all.

Thump thump.

And yet, all you could think about was the steady, steady rhythm of Jesse's heart beneath your ear. A beat that had started at a wild pace when you first laid on his heaving chest. And then slowly had calmed down to something much more managed. Gentle. Safe.

Thump thump.

"What are you thinking about?" he eventually asked.

His muscles were stiff beneath you, his hand resting hesitantly along your shoulder. You weren't sure why, if it was due to you overstaying your welcome, if he was uncomfortable being so close, some other reason. But he was talking now, so you supposed that was a good sign.

"Your heart," you answered honestly.

He half-hummed, half-grunted in confusion.

"How strongly it beats," you elaborated. "The places it's taken you. The stress it's bared. Wondering how often it's quickened in excitement, or fear. How long it's taken care of you."

You didn't dare voice your next thought aloud, about how much longer it will continue to take care of him. There were some questions you didn't need the answer to.

Jesse hummed again, still seeming confused. You knew he wasn't much of the sentimental type, and your thoughts were likely odd sounding to him. You felt yourself starting to tense as well.

"How about you?" you asked through a gulp. "What are you thinking about?"

There was a long silence and then he finally spoke. "I'm thinking... this is nice. Really, really nice."

His hand felt heavier on you as he let it rest more fully, his fingers curling around your shoulder and drawing you in closer. Your ear pressed tighter to his bare chest and you smiled as the sound of his heart beat even closer.

Thump thump.

NSFW Every Character Tag: @dangerousstrawberrypie, @justanothersadperson93, @arctrooper69, @sleepycreativewriter, @techie-bear,

@theroguesully, @cw80831, @cdblake1565

NSFW Clone Bois Tag: @kaijusplotch, @rebel-finn, @lucyysthings, @marvel-starwars-nerd, @nekotaetae,

@severalseashellsbytheseashore, @lackofhonor, @flowered-bicycles, @foodmoneyandcats, @nahoney22

@dangraccoon, @lulalovez, @aconstructofamind, @skellymom

✨Join A Tag List Here!✨

🤗 Request a snuggle drabble here!

🍾 One Shots Master List | 🌙 Master List of Master Lists

#star wars #the clone wars #jesse x reader #snuggle prompts #cuddle prompts #snuggle drabbles

[masterjedilenawrites]

🧎‍♀️ I come to you on my hands and knees begging for more of Hunter and reader because I ate up every single moment of What Is This Feeling and I need more of them like I need air. Your writing is just breathtaking. Your Hunter is EXCEPTIONAL. No matter what you choose to do in the future, I’m gonna be thinking about this for a long time, and I have to thank you for that.

🥺🥹🥺🥹

Omg such high praise, thank you so much!!

I wouldn’t be opposed to doing more Hunter x reader… Maybe even a continuation of that story specifically… I’d just need some prompts for inspiration… 👀

#star wars #the bad batch #hunter x reader #the more prompts the better #I’m motivated by challenges

[masterjedilenawrites]

Not sure why Obi-Wan wins every poll he’s in but here we are… let’s see how well the other fan favorite - Ahsoka - does against him!

Obviously these polls are just for funsies, and your favorite is still your favorite regardless how other people feel about them or whoever they’re pitted against. I just thought it was cool to see how many characters there were… enough for every letter of the alphabet!

#star wars #poll time #favorites #favorite characters #ahsoka tano #obi wan kenobi #a-z #don’t get me wrong #i love obi wan #and in this pairing he’s more of my favorite than ahsoka #but i would’ve preferred maul or grogu or boba or even rex

[masterjedilenawrites]

~ CUDDLE & SNUGGLE ~ PROMPTS

requested by: anonymous

Feel free to use and reblog!

limbs intertwined on the sofa

getting the greatest feeling of safety from cuddling

desperate hugs

lazy cuddles in the morning

burying face in their chest

trying to crawl under their shirt

falling asleep in each other's arms

mumbling unintelligibly into the embrace

caressing their back when holding each other

revelling in their body warmth

switching roles of big & little spoon

cuddles accompanied by little kisses

cuddles of consolation

cuddles after being touch-starved

squeezing them tightly

needing their cuddles even though they have something else to do

resting head in their lap

leaning against them

hugging them from behind

clinging to them

cuddles to make up for a loss of words

cuddles in bed

snuggling up to them when they're cold

cuddles of reassurance

pulling them closer into their arms

sitting on their lap & cuddling

tucking head into the crook of her neck while cuddling

feeling the rumble of their chest when they talk while cuddling

putting ear over their heart

exchanging soft looks while cuddling

#send me a character and one of these prompts! #won’t be able to write until i’m back from vacation on monday #but send in requests in the meantime #any character #everyone deserves snuggles

[masterjedilenawrites]

Following my sister and her friend around a mall right now and I’m bored out of my mind! Someone pleeeease help me pass the time. Send me a headcanon you have, a favorite meme, ask for a drabble, any other thots you have or content you want 😬😬😬

#star wars #fanfic #asks #thots #help i'm bored

[masterjedilenawrites]

Thank you, i’m glad you enjoyed it! Sibling advice/teasing is always so fun to do with the Batch lol

Take Me Out

Bad Batch x Reader Exchange 2024

Crosshair x fem!reader | 4.7k words

Content: drinking, light angst, introspection, fluff, light humor, crushes, relationships, friendship, mentions of war and death, weapons (practice setting)

Prompts: "What am I even looking for?" - "I don't know" & "Sometimes I think some work on your communication skills wouldn't be such a bad idea."

My gift is for the event host - @ghostofskywalker! I was so excited to draw your name and I really hope you enjoy the fic. You put so much work and care into hosting these events for the fandom, it really is appreciated 🤗

I've actually had this story concept in mind for quite a while. I love that pretty much all of your prompts/wish-list items were able to fit in! We've got some platonic Hunter, romantic Crosshair, a little angst, a bit of fluff... Perfect!

Oh, and to keep things spoiler free (on my blog and for the event), this takes place before Order 66 and Omega.

Please go check out the @cloneficgiftexchange blog for all the other contributions to this great event! Fics are being posted all throughout today (4/13/24). Spread the love for fandom writers/creators by reblogging!

Vandor-3. Clone training facility: recreation sector. Winter.

You sat slumped over the bar, a drink cradled in your arms. You took lazy sips at the liquid, long past its effervescence, in between chewing on the straw. You could smell the evidence of your waning hygiene, being curled in on yourself like this. It disgusted you but not enough to do anything beyond self loathing. To say you were miserable was an understatement.

"Morning, Captain. A bit early for a drink, isn't it?"

The husky voice of the bar's newcomer was unmistakeable in who it belonged to. There were clones abound on this small moon, hundreds of identical-sounding men. But every once in a while you had the pleasure of hearing the one that was different.

You sluggishly swiveled your head and gave Sergeant Hunter a mock salute. He leaned against the bar beside you, seemingly torn between being amused and concerned by what he was seeing.

"Back so soon?" you asked, ignoring his own question. Though your speech wasn't slurred, your voice still betrayed some of the numbness you were working to surround yourself in. Which helped your friend make up his mind on how to feel.

"Easy mission," Hunter shrugged off the topic. "You okay? Did something happen?"

"No," you sighed and forced yourself to sit upright. Best to appear more in control and not give him reason to drag you to the med bay. "That's the problem. Nothing's happened."

Hunter frowned and slid onto the barstool next to you. You caught a whiff of soap as he did, a harsh contrast to your own odor that made you even more upset.

"I don't understand."

Your hands cupped around your glass, condensation pooling around your fingers, and you stared at the melting ice wishing to be as frozen and unfeeling.

"I don't understand, either," you whispered. "Why I'm still so... alone."

"Ah." Hunter placed a sympathetic hand on your shoulder. "That's right, you had that date you were going on. Another dud, then?"

You nodded, still refusing to look away from the ice cubes.

He hummed in thought. Your poor friend. How many times had he now had to come up with some sort of reassuring comment after another one of your failed attempts to find love? At least you were grateful you had such a friend, though. Where others would have made you feel guilty for admitting to loneliness, would have insisted they were company enough and all you had to do was ask for it, it's as simple as that, how dare you feel lonely when you aren't actually alone... Hunter was the one who always saw through to what you really meant. You were not what the other wanted, but you were both wanting, craving that kind of deep, romantic connection that seemed to allude you both. For Hunter, it was obviously his schedule that got in his way. For you... well, that was the mystery.

"You have to keep looking," was the sentiment Hunter settled on this time. He rubbed at your shoulder a bit, as if trying to smooth out your misery.

You huffed. His attempts to comfort were sweet, but not enough. You couldn't help but protest. "But with everyone I meet, I just find out what I don't want. What am I even looking for?"

"I don't know," Hunter shook his head sadly. "I don't know if anyone knows until they find it."

You groaned and slumped back forward, facepalming the bar top and wishing you could sink right into it. Sink down, down, down until you disappeared completely.

"Sorry, Cap," Hunter's now muffled voice attempted to chuckle, lighten the mood. "If I could track down your soul mate, I would. You know I would."

That comment was sweet enough. You forced yourself to stop sinking, lift yourself up again, and face your friend properly.

"I know. And I appreciate that. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be such a bummer today. It's just... it's been getting harder, is all."

He nodded and you nodded back and nothing further needed to be understood on the matter.

"Were you needing something from me?" you changed the subject. "Or did you come to day drink as well?"

"Ha, ha." Hunter started to get up. "Yeah no, I just wanted to let you know we were back for a few rotations, see if you'd have some time to finally come out and meet the boys."

You lifted up your glass and shook it a bit. "You're too late, I'm afraid. If I'd known you'd be back so soon, I wouldn't have started on this journey of self destruction."

Hunter titled his head at you, some of that trademark concern still showing. "This isn't going to be an all week thing, is it?"

You shrugged. Truthfully, you had no idea what to do with yourself. Making decisions even a day in advance seemed like too big of a commitment in your fragile state.

"I'd rather not meet any more new people right now, if it's all the same to you."

"I wouldn't consider them new. You've heard enough stories about each other by now. It's starting to get weird that you're not meeting, quite frankly."

You wanted to laugh, but the thought of introductions, stiff pleasantries, awkward small talk... It reminded you of every first date that never turned into a second, every dating app chat thread that went nowhere, every high hope you watched turn into disappointment. Even with a group like Hunter's brothers, the Bad Batch, with a reputation of being unconventional, who you'd only be making friends with just like you had with Hunter and every other clone on this moon... it was still too much for you to stomach.

"Sorry, maybe next time."

Hunter frowned, but he didn't overstep. "Suit yourself. Door's still open though. You know where to find us."

He made to walk out but paused to turn back to you for a moment.

"And hey, don't lose hope. We'll find our people soon enough. In the meantime, take care of yourself, alright?"

You waited until the bar doors closed behind him to let your tears fall.

* * *

Vandor-3. Woodland outskirts. Spring.

You were here. Finally.

You weren't able to pinpoint exactly where the turning point occurred, between crying yourself to sleep every night and being able to wake up with a smile on your face. A small one, of course, but a smile nonetheless. You weren't even sure it was something that had happened overnight. Slowly, eventually, the frost over your heart melted, the shadows in your thoughts grew thinner and lighter. Without even realizing you were drawing back the curtains and dusting off the shelves and each day being a little more open than you were the day before.

Your loneliness still existed. It came and went in waves, so while still devastating at times, you were at least afforded with periods of relief. Periods where you could smile again, find fulfillment in your work, and even dare to allow yourself to dream again. And not to mention taking more regular showers. It was always the little things that made the biggest difference, wasn't it?

And now here you were, standing in the early morning sun out in one of the training fields, the Havoc Marauder silhouetted against the sunrise as you shook hands with its crew in a meeting long overdue.

Hunter's stories had done the boys justice. Wrecker was just as larger than life as you'd pictured, aptly choosing to push past your outstretched hand and go in for a bone-crushing hug instead. Tech, who you'd come to know as the brains of the batch, only spared a second to be properly introduced before returning to fidget with some gadget. Echo was all politeness and disciplined respect, with his scomp-salute and ma'ams. And Crosshair... well, he was still on the ship asleep, which you supposed fit with the few facts you knew about him, too.

Hunter beamed beside them, clearly happy you had finally made the effort to meet his squad. His family, really. As a Captain overseeing drill training for the GAR, you knew better than anyone the close bonds these clones formed even before they stepped foot on a battlefield. This meant a lot to him, you being here. You felt awful for postponing so many times.

Once introductions were out of the way, and some pleasant conversation had passed, you eventually ventured out to the part of the training field that actually housed elements for training - your excuse for coming out here to meet everyone. A munitions crate full of shiny new blasters was carried between you and Wrecker while Hunter ran ahead to set up some targets. Tech and Echo went back to the ship to work on repairs.

"Aaaaugh. Only blasters?" Wrecker lamented upon opening the crate.

"Sorry, more budget cuts. This was all I could scrounge up for you guys."

Hunter was much more excited by the new weapons, though Wrecker still picked one up to try out. You held one as well but only used it to demonstrate different techniques. Just because you were good at training didn't mean you were the best at actually fighting.

The three of you picked off the various bottles, pots, and pans that Hunter had set up amongst the tree branches at the edge of the field for a short while. And on more than one occasion you found yourself pausing to breathe in the air and remind yourself that life was good. Maybe not how you wanted it, but it was still good and you'd need to continue to work on appreciating what you had.

After about an hour, there were only three bottles and a pan left, all proving tricky targets due to distance and angle. Hunter had even tried slinging a few knives to no avail.

"Okay I'm calling it," Wrecker announced with a huff. "One more missed shot and I'm blowing them up."

"I'll take that bet."

A new voice, one you'd never heard before, carried across the field. It was delicate and drawling and confident. Hunter chuckled and Wrecker rolled his eyes. And you... you had no idea that everything was about to change.

It was like he was moving in slow motion. Your surroundings blurred as the lanky figure caught the corner of your eye, your heart rate slowing as you turned and took him in. One confident step planted firmly in front of the other as he inched across the field. A sniper rifle perched on his shoulder. A toothpick between pursed lips. An eye surrounded by a reticle and narrowed in determination. He didn't even spare you a glance, and thank the gods, because if he had, you were sure your heart would've stopped beating altogether.

He squared off as soon as he reached the marks, bringing his rile forward to aim in a swift and careful motion. His head rested against the shaft, his tattooed eye squinted through the scope. You imagined him taking this stance a thousand times in his short life. It looked as natural a position as curling up on a couch might look for you.

You couldn't look away, not wanting to miss a single second of whatever this mesmerizing man was about to do. He was still for a moment, impressively so. You realized you were holding your breath as you watched, not wanting even your exhale to interfere with his process.

And then he fired. Once, twice, threefourfive times. Bang, bang, bang. Each in a different direction but no less precise than the one before. The first ricocheted off the pan and hit the green bottle, just as the second hit the red bottle. The three-shot volley was aimed at the branch the bottles sat on, causing it to crack and dangle even closer to the ground. And just when you thought the show couldn't be more over the top, the sniper swiveled his rifle toward the sky at a passing bird, clipped its wing with a shot, and then whipped out a pistol from his hip and fired at the remaining blue bottle just before the branch snapped and fell to the ground.

A few seconds later, the bird tumbled on top of the pile of shattered glass and splintered wood.

"Aaaand training is now over," said Hunter with a nod of his head. He raised his voice as he called out to his brother. "You'd better clean that shit up!"

The sniper flipped him the bird before sauntering off to clean up.

"Uh, you alright?"

Hunter paused in his own packing of gear to give you a concerned look. You were still staring after the newcomer, undoubtedly the lone Batcher you had yet to meet. Crosshair. Your brain had short-circuited with what you had witnessed him do, yes. But it was more than that. There was something about him. Something intriguing and attractive. Different than anyone you had ever known, and yet, somehow feeling so real and comfortable at the same time.

After a few waves of your friend's hand in your face, you snapped back.

"That," you breathed.

Hunter cocked a confused eyebrow.

"That is what I'm looking for."

* * *

Vandor-3. Clone training facility: recreation sector. Summer.

You were insanely busy. Separatist activity was ramping up in almost every corner of the galaxy and the GAR was responding to each new threat with full force. Rotations of new clone units were frequently arriving at the facility, one after another. You'd cycle them through a few trainings to get them certified on whatever was needed and then ship them right back out. And in between were all the additional tasks that needed to be taken care of. Piles of paperwork and coordinating schedules and ship inspections and updated security debriefings.

And yet through it all, you still had time to entertain the one thought that buzzed in the background of your mind: Crosshair. Every meeting, every meal, every training sim, first thing in the morning and last thing at night. He was there. Crosshair, Crosshair, Crosshair. On your mind, in your heart, driving you absolutely mad.

In the beginning you'd pretended it wasn't about him, specifically. You were simply happy to know what you wanted now, that you had a type and it existed. That was all. Hunter had turned up his nose, completely bewildered as to why that would be your type. You hadn't been able to give him much at the time; it would take you many rotations more to start describing the details of your newly discovered attraction.

But over time, it became harder to push aside the nagging thought that you hadn't found what you were looking for, but rather who. Specifically. Exactly. Why try to find someone like him when you already liked... him?

Oh there were plenty of ways you could answer that question, all of them self-deprecating and none of them productive. You could count on one hand now the number of times you had been in the same room as him, let alone interacted with him. The Batch may be frequenting the place more often as the war picked up, but not nearly as often as you needed to gauge whether someone like Crosshair would, could, or honestly even should be as interested in you as you were in him.

Today they were back on the grounds so Hunter could fill out some paperwork, and your heart had not stopped racing all morning. It was practically threatening to punch right out of your chest and run away. You weren't sure why, considering you'd probably only end up seeing Hunter this time. The rest of the Batch usually didn't venture into the facility unless they were staying overnight. But it seemed even knowing Crosshair was on the same planet as you got you worked up these days.

You carried Hunter's stack of paperwork with you now, intending to drop it off to him in between some meetings you had. As you hustled down the halls, you rehearsed a few ways you could subtly ask him how Crosshair was doing.

But as it turned out, you would have the opportunity to ask him yourself. If you could get over your frazzled shock at finding him in the rec room instead of Hunter.

The room was conveniently empty, making the silence between you that much more potent. Crosshair was standing awkwardly to the side, just behind one of the battered sofas, as if he had already been confused about what he should be doing before you pushed through the door. He stared at you and you stared at him and the moment only lasted for a few seconds but it felt like an eternity.

"Oh, um. Hi. Crosshair." You averted your gaze, despite having prayed the past several nights that you could see his face again soon. "I was... expecting Hunter."

That didn't sound right. You hoped he didn't take that to mean that you'd prefer if Hunter was here now. Obviously you didn't.

"He stepped out," Crosshair responded in that cool, even tone of his. Your eyes couldn't help but snap back to his as he talked. You wanted him to say more but he never did.

"Oh, okay. I just had some paperwork to give him."

Crosshair only hummed at first. You shuffled your feet a bit, debating whether you should make an attempt at small talk, try to coax more out of him, maybe even hint that you were interested in him. The thought terrified you, but not as much as the thought of being alone. You couldn't complain about that if you continued to let these opportunities pass by without at least trying to make a connection.

You shifted your weight again, intending to keep your feet planted so you wouldn't make a run for it, and Crosshair uttered your name hurriedly.

"Wait," he said. He'd thought you were leaving. You widened your eyes at him, waiting to hear what he'd wanted to tell you first. He seemed to hesitate before finally saying, "I was wondering if you knew what soup they were serving today?"

"Oh. Uh, potato, I think."

"How boring."

You smirked. "I know, right? They could at least serve it with some hot sauce."

Crosshair hummed.

The silence settled back in, though now you felt better about things. You'd practically had a conversation. Learned a little more about each other. It was a good start. 

Your commlink suddenly beeped at your side and you blanched, remembering the meeting you were supposed to be heading to.

"I uh, I've got to go. It was nice talking to you."

It pained you to cut off your moment with him so quickly, but alas you were left with no choice. You shuffled back out into the corridor, though you only made it a few steps before realizing you still had Hunter's paperwork and could just leave it with Crosshair.

The rec room had an old school door that swung in and out on hinges. It was slightly ajar from when you passed through, and already in the few seconds since something was happening on the other side of it. You could hear more voices.

"...the kriff was that?" First, the deep tones of Hunter, equal parts annoyed and weary.

"That wasn't the plan." Then, the resolute voice of Echo, backing him up.

"What?" Crosshair bit back at them.

"You were supposed to ask her out," Hunter clarified.

"No, that was not the plan," Crosshair countered. "I needed to lay some groundwork first."

"You call that groundwork? You were talking about soup."

"And she agreed. No one ever agrees with me on the soup around here."

"What a special connection," Echo said.

Hunter sighed so hard you swore you could feel the breeze through the doorway. "You know, sometimes I think some work on your communication skills wouldn't be such a bad idea."

"What?"

"Never mind. Do what you like. Keep pushing away anyone who tries to love you and see where that gets you. Just know that it's exhausting, watching the two of you dance around each other like this."

"And kind of pathetic," added Echo.

You were against the wall by the door, holding in your breath for so long you were about to pass out. Or maybe it was the euphoria of knowing Crosshair was interested that made your head sway. Regardless, you had mere moments to make a move or let the opportunity pass. You dug into your pocket, fished out a pen, and scribbled a note on the top page of paperwork. Was it professional? Absolutely not. But the GAR would get over it. You left the papers by the door, making sure your note was turned to face it.

There's better soups on Coruscant. Let's go out sometime.

Vandor-3. Woodland outskirts. Autumn.

You were alone, standing in the middle of the training field, the early setting sun behind you casting a dim shadow across the remains of your latest training exercise. A chill was just starting to set in, causing you to tug at your jacket and pull it around you a bit tighter. You liked these moments, rare as they were recently. A quiet time to yourself. Not even to think, but simply to be. Present and comfortable. And you.

The wind picked up and sang through the taller blades of grass as a ship approached for landing. Your moment was over, but a new happiness settled in its place. Minutes later, the Havoc Marauder was opening its hatch and spitting out its soldiers.

"Captain," Hunter gave you a two-finger salute as he passed by.

"Sergeant," you returned with a smile.

Echo was close behind, giving you a respectful nod. Wrecker hauled a munitions crate in one hand and hit you up for a high five with the other. Tech was oblivious as he hunched over a data pad.

They filed by, one after the other, headed straight for the barracks, and what you hoped were the showers. They all knew not to linger, that you'd catch up with them later. This was your time with Crosshair.

The sniper was leaning up against the hatch opening, arms folded across a plastoid chest and a toothpick lazily perched between slightly curled lips. He took you in for a moment and you could feel yourself glowing in response to his soft gaze.

"Showing those clankers who's boss, I see," he said as he made his way down the gangway. He nodded his head toward the mess of scrap metal behind you.

You gave a half shrug. "My reaction time is getting better, but I still can't get the angles right with those pucks."

Crosshair inched up to you, gently resting his hands on either side of your waist. "Have you been doing the breathing exercises like I showed you?"

You nodded. Your hands instinctually came up to his run along his arms until they found the crook of his elbows, the only place not barring your touch by armor.

"And using the laser sight?"

You nodded a little slower and Crosshair tsked.

"I want to be good without it. Like you." You added a little extra honey to your words so he wouldn't reprimand you too much. It had been an adjustment for the two of you at first, he stepping into a training role and you stepping back to receive instruction for once. Thankfully the frustrations seemed to diminish the more your relationship progressed.

"You have to be patient," he said, giving your waist a slight squeeze to accentuate his point. "You aren't like the regs you train. You're building your skills, taking care of yourself."

You hummed, more in thought than agreement. "Will I ever have to use these skills someday, do you think? Is it really getting that bad out there?"

You tried not to think about how many soldiers you had trained only to be sent to a battlefield to die. How many of the shinies you were drilling right now would likely be killed soon. How many more would be brought in to take their place. You'd thought you'd known what you were getting yourself into with this job. But the relentless cycle of it all was getting to you more and more, especially as the Republic continued to be challenged in larger scales and higher stakes. It never seemed to end.

"It's hard to say," Crosshair responded. "We have to prepare for the worst."

You hated that answer, but you wouldn't let him see it. Not yet. Your fears and your displeasures, anger and sorrow, were things yet to be fully explored in this new relationship. All in due time. So you simply smiled, plucked the toothpick out of his mouth and tossed it aside. 

"And hope for the best, right?"

He smiled back, or at least moved his mouth in the direction of a smile, as much as you could usually get from the reserved man. "Yes, of course."

He leaned forward and rested his forehead against yours. You both closed your eyes and breathed each other in. There was warmth in his embrace. A promise in the steady hands he held you with. Vulnerability in the skin that gently touched yours. To have someone this close, someone who was still more stranger than friend, though no less beloved, was what you had always wanted. And for once, what you wanted was just as lovely and fulfilling as you'd hoped. No catch. No deals. No unintended consequences. Just you and him and happiness.

All too soon he pulled away. His hand sought yours as he turned in the direction of the barracks. The longer you stayed behind, the worse the teasing from the others would be. They were only respectful of your relationship to a point, and after that it was fair game for a laugh. So you willingly followed.

"Crosshair?"

"Hm?"

"I was thinking about Hunter...."

The sniper glanced at you suspiciously.

"Well, you know he and I have been friends for a while. And he's confided a few things in me before. About what he wants. Or thinks he wants. He's changed his mind a few times on the specifics. But all in the same gist."

"Where are you going with this?"

"I don't know, I just feel like I owe him for helping me get through a tough time. And if it weren't for him, I wouldn't have ever met you. So--"

Crosshair cut you off with a groan. "If you're trying to get me to play matchmaker..."

"It would get some of the attention off of us," you quickly offered. "If Hunter had someone he was bringing around, too. Or even just interested in."

Crosshair frowned in thought. "There was a bartender on Scarif he kept checking out..."

You grinned and squeezed his hand affectionately. "See? Just keep an eye out and nudge him a bit. Who knows what could happen."

You could tell he was trying not to roll his eyes for your sake. Instead he squeezed your hand in return. "Or you could come with us and nudge him yourself?"

Your walking slowed, right as you were about to cross the facility boundary line. You would have to let go of his hand once you crossed it, keep a professional distance, share your company with others. And once the Batch's business here concluded, then you would have to let him go and watch him disappear into the sky with all the prayers you could possibly send with him. And then you would be on your own. Waiting, waiting, always waiting. And maybe he would return, and maybe he wouldn't.

And heaven forbid you would ever end up alone again.

"Or you can stay," he said. The quietness of his voice betrayed what he really meant, what he really wanted. 

And you knew what you wanted, too. Without you realizing, it was getting easier and easier for you to define your desires. And not only that, but to pursue them, too. To know your happiness was worth the risk of disappointment. It was clear to you now that you were not only worthy, but also capable. The man standing before you, holding your hand, gazing at you like nothing else mattered, was proof enough.

And so you said, "Take me with you."

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#comment reblog

[masterjedilenawrites]

Yay i’m glad you liked it! 🤗 These events are always a blast, both to write for and read! A great way to keep the fandom engaged. You are a treasure!

Take Me Out

Bad Batch x Reader Exchange 2024

Crosshair x fem!reader | 4.7k words

Content: drinking, light angst, introspection, fluff, light humor, crushes, relationships, friendship, mentions of war and death, weapons (practice setting)

Prompts: "What am I even looking for?" - "I don't know" & "Sometimes I think some work on your communication skills wouldn't be such a bad idea."

My gift is for the event host - @ghostofskywalker! I was so excited to draw your name and I really hope you enjoy the fic. You put so much work and care into hosting these events for the fandom, it really is appreciated 🤗

I've actually had this story concept in mind for quite a while. I love that pretty much all of your prompts/wish-list items were able to fit in! We've got some platonic Hunter, romantic Crosshair, a little angst, a bit of fluff... Perfect!

Oh, and to keep things spoiler free (on my blog and for the event), this takes place before Order 66 and Omega.

Please go check out the @cloneficgiftexchange blog for all the other contributions to this great event! Fics are being posted all throughout today (4/13/24). Spread the love for fandom writers/creators by reblogging!

Vandor-3. Clone training facility: recreation sector. Winter.

You sat slumped over the bar, a drink cradled in your arms. You took lazy sips at the liquid, long past its effervescence, in between chewing on the straw. You could smell the evidence of your waning hygiene, being curled in on yourself like this. It disgusted you but not enough to do anything beyond self loathing. To say you were miserable was an understatement.

"Morning, Captain. A bit early for a drink, isn't it?"

The husky voice of the bar's newcomer was unmistakeable in who it belonged to. There were clones abound on this small moon, hundreds of identical-sounding men. But every once in a while you had the pleasure of hearing the one that was different.

You sluggishly swiveled your head and gave Sergeant Hunter a mock salute. He leaned against the bar beside you, seemingly torn between being amused and concerned by what he was seeing.

"Back so soon?" you asked, ignoring his own question. Though your speech wasn't slurred, your voice still betrayed some of the numbness you were working to surround yourself in. Which helped your friend make up his mind on how to feel.

"Easy mission," Hunter shrugged off the topic. "You okay? Did something happen?"

"No," you sighed and forced yourself to sit upright. Best to appear more in control and not give him reason to drag you to the med bay. "That's the problem. Nothing's happened."

Hunter frowned and slid onto the barstool next to you. You caught a whiff of soap as he did, a harsh contrast to your own odor that made you even more upset.

"I don't understand."

Your hands cupped around your glass, condensation pooling around your fingers, and you stared at the melting ice wishing to be as frozen and unfeeling.

"I don't understand, either," you whispered. "Why I'm still so... alone."

"Ah." Hunter placed a sympathetic hand on your shoulder. "That's right, you had that date you were going on. Another dud, then?"

You nodded, still refusing to look away from the ice cubes.

He hummed in thought. Your poor friend. How many times had he now had to come up with some sort of reassuring comment after another one of your failed attempts to find love? At least you were grateful you had such a friend, though. Where others would have made you feel guilty for admitting to loneliness, would have insisted they were company enough and all you had to do was ask for it, it's as simple as that, how dare you feel lonely when you aren't actually alone... Hunter was the one who always saw through to what you really meant. You were not what the other wanted, but you were both wanting, craving that kind of deep, romantic connection that seemed to allude you both. For Hunter, it was obviously his schedule that got in his way. For you... well, that was the mystery.

"You have to keep looking," was the sentiment Hunter settled on this time. He rubbed at your shoulder a bit, as if trying to smooth out your misery.

You huffed. His attempts to comfort were sweet, but not enough. You couldn't help but protest. "But with everyone I meet, I just find out what I don't want. What am I even looking for?"

"I don't know," Hunter shook his head sadly. "I don't know if anyone knows until they find it."

You groaned and slumped back forward, facepalming the bar top and wishing you could sink right into it. Sink down, down, down until you disappeared completely.

"Sorry, Cap," Hunter's now muffled voice attempted to chuckle, lighten the mood. "If I could track down your soul mate, I would. You know I would."

That comment was sweet enough. You forced yourself to stop sinking, lift yourself up again, and face your friend properly.

"I know. And I appreciate that. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be such a bummer today. It's just... it's been getting harder, is all."

He nodded and you nodded back and nothing further needed to be understood on the matter.

"Were you needing something from me?" you changed the subject. "Or did you come to day drink as well?"

"Ha, ha." Hunter started to get up. "Yeah no, I just wanted to let you know we were back for a few rotations, see if you'd have some time to finally come out and meet the boys."

You lifted up your glass and shook it a bit. "You're too late, I'm afraid. If I'd known you'd be back so soon, I wouldn't have started on this journey of self destruction."

Hunter titled his head at you, some of that trademark concern still showing. "This isn't going to be an all week thing, is it?"

You shrugged. Truthfully, you had no idea what to do with yourself. Making decisions even a day in advance seemed like too big of a commitment in your fragile state.

"I'd rather not meet any more new people right now, if it's all the same to you."

"I wouldn't consider them new. You've heard enough stories about each other by now. It's starting to get weird that you're not meeting, quite frankly."

You wanted to laugh, but the thought of introductions, stiff pleasantries, awkward small talk... It reminded you of every first date that never turned into a second, every dating app chat thread that went nowhere, every high hope you watched turn into disappointment. Even with a group like Hunter's brothers, the Bad Batch, with a reputation of being unconventional, who you'd only be making friends with just like you had with Hunter and every other clone on this moon... it was still too much for you to stomach.

"Sorry, maybe next time."

Hunter frowned, but he didn't overstep. "Suit yourself. Door's still open though. You know where to find us."

He made to walk out but paused to turn back to you for a moment.

"And hey, don't lose hope. We'll find our people soon enough. In the meantime, take care of yourself, alright?"

You waited until the bar doors closed behind him to let your tears fall.

* * *

Vandor-3. Woodland outskirts. Spring.

You were here. Finally.

You weren't able to pinpoint exactly where the turning point occurred, between crying yourself to sleep every night and being able to wake up with a smile on your face. A small one, of course, but a smile nonetheless. You weren't even sure it was something that had happened overnight. Slowly, eventually, the frost over your heart melted, the shadows in your thoughts grew thinner and lighter. Without even realizing you were drawing back the curtains and dusting off the shelves and each day being a little more open than you were the day before.

Your loneliness still existed. It came and went in waves, so while still devastating at times, you were at least afforded with periods of relief. Periods where you could smile again, find fulfillment in your work, and even dare to allow yourself to dream again. And not to mention taking more regular showers. It was always the little things that made the biggest difference, wasn't it?

And now here you were, standing in the early morning sun out in one of the training fields, the Havoc Marauder silhouetted against the sunrise as you shook hands with its crew in a meeting long overdue.

Hunter's stories had done the boys justice. Wrecker was just as larger than life as you'd pictured, aptly choosing to push past your outstretched hand and go in for a bone-crushing hug instead. Tech, who you'd come to know as the brains of the batch, only spared a second to be properly introduced before returning to fidget with some gadget. Echo was all politeness and disciplined respect, with his scomp-salute and ma'ams. And Crosshair... well, he was still on the ship asleep, which you supposed fit with the few facts you knew about him, too.

Hunter beamed beside them, clearly happy you had finally made the effort to meet his squad. His family, really. As a Captain overseeing drill training for the GAR, you knew better than anyone the close bonds these clones formed even before they stepped foot on a battlefield. This meant a lot to him, you being here. You felt awful for postponing so many times.

Once introductions were out of the way, and some pleasant conversation had passed, you eventually ventured out to the part of the training field that actually housed elements for training - your excuse for coming out here to meet everyone. A munitions crate full of shiny new blasters was carried between you and Wrecker while Hunter ran ahead to set up some targets. Tech and Echo went back to the ship to work on repairs.

"Aaaaugh. Only blasters?" Wrecker lamented upon opening the crate.

"Sorry, more budget cuts. This was all I could scrounge up for you guys."

Hunter was much more excited by the new weapons, though Wrecker still picked one up to try out. You held one as well but only used it to demonstrate different techniques. Just because you were good at training didn't mean you were the best at actually fighting.

The three of you picked off the various bottles, pots, and pans that Hunter had set up amongst the tree branches at the edge of the field for a short while. And on more than one occasion you found yourself pausing to breathe in the air and remind yourself that life was good. Maybe not how you wanted it, but it was still good and you'd need to continue to work on appreciating what you had.

After about an hour, there were only three bottles and a pan left, all proving tricky targets due to distance and angle. Hunter had even tried slinging a few knives to no avail.

"Okay I'm calling it," Wrecker announced with a huff. "One more missed shot and I'm blowing them up."

"I'll take that bet."

A new voice, one you'd never heard before, carried across the field. It was delicate and drawling and confident. Hunter chuckled and Wrecker rolled his eyes. And you... you had no idea that everything was about to change.

It was like he was moving in slow motion. Your surroundings blurred as the lanky figure caught the corner of your eye, your heart rate slowing as you turned and took him in. One confident step planted firmly in front of the other as he inched across the field. A sniper rifle perched on his shoulder. A toothpick between pursed lips. An eye surrounded by a reticle and narrowed in determination. He didn't even spare you a glance, and thank the gods, because if he had, you were sure your heart would've stopped beating altogether.

He squared off as soon as he reached the marks, bringing his rile forward to aim in a swift and careful motion. His head rested against the shaft, his tattooed eye squinted through the scope. You imagined him taking this stance a thousand times in his short life. It looked as natural a position as curling up on a couch might look for you.

You couldn't look away, not wanting to miss a single second of whatever this mesmerizing man was about to do. He was still for a moment, impressively so. You realized you were holding your breath as you watched, not wanting even your exhale to interfere with his process.

And then he fired. Once, twice, threefourfive times. Bang, bang, bang. Each in a different direction but no less precise than the one before. The first ricocheted off the pan and hit the green bottle, just as the second hit the red bottle. The three-shot volley was aimed at the branch the bottles sat on, causing it to crack and dangle even closer to the ground. And just when you thought the show couldn't be more over the top, the sniper swiveled his rifle toward the sky at a passing bird, clipped its wing with a shot, and then whipped out a pistol from his hip and fired at the remaining blue bottle just before the branch snapped and fell to the ground.

A few seconds later, the bird tumbled on top of the pile of shattered glass and splintered wood.

"Aaaand training is now over," said Hunter with a nod of his head. He raised his voice as he called out to his brother. "You'd better clean that shit up!"

The sniper flipped him the bird before sauntering off to clean up.

"Uh, you alright?"

Hunter paused in his own packing of gear to give you a concerned look. You were still staring after the newcomer, undoubtedly the lone Batcher you had yet to meet. Crosshair. Your brain had short-circuited with what you had witnessed him do, yes. But it was more than that. There was something about him. Something intriguing and attractive. Different than anyone you had ever known, and yet, somehow feeling so real and comfortable at the same time.

After a few waves of your friend's hand in your face, you snapped back.

"That," you breathed.

Hunter cocked a confused eyebrow.

"That is what I'm looking for."

* * *

Vandor-3. Clone training facility: recreation sector. Summer.

You were insanely busy. Separatist activity was ramping up in almost every corner of the galaxy and the GAR was responding to each new threat with full force. Rotations of new clone units were frequently arriving at the facility, one after another. You'd cycle them through a few trainings to get them certified on whatever was needed and then ship them right back out. And in between were all the additional tasks that needed to be taken care of. Piles of paperwork and coordinating schedules and ship inspections and updated security debriefings.

And yet through it all, you still had time to entertain the one thought that buzzed in the background of your mind: Crosshair. Every meeting, every meal, every training sim, first thing in the morning and last thing at night. He was there. Crosshair, Crosshair, Crosshair. On your mind, in your heart, driving you absolutely mad.

In the beginning you'd pretended it wasn't about him, specifically. You were simply happy to know what you wanted now, that you had a type and it existed. That was all. Hunter had turned up his nose, completely bewildered as to why that would be your type. You hadn't been able to give him much at the time; it would take you many rotations more to start describing the details of your newly discovered attraction.

But over time, it became harder to push aside the nagging thought that you hadn't found what you were looking for, but rather who. Specifically. Exactly. Why try to find someone like him when you already liked... him?

Oh there were plenty of ways you could answer that question, all of them self-deprecating and none of them productive. You could count on one hand now the number of times you had been in the same room as him, let alone interacted with him. The Batch may be frequenting the place more often as the war picked up, but not nearly as often as you needed to gauge whether someone like Crosshair would, could, or honestly even should be as interested in you as you were in him.

Today they were back on the grounds so Hunter could fill out some paperwork, and your heart had not stopped racing all morning. It was practically threatening to punch right out of your chest and run away. You weren't sure why, considering you'd probably only end up seeing Hunter this time. The rest of the Batch usually didn't venture into the facility unless they were staying overnight. But it seemed even knowing Crosshair was on the same planet as you got you worked up these days.

You carried Hunter's stack of paperwork with you now, intending to drop it off to him in between some meetings you had. As you hustled down the halls, you rehearsed a few ways you could subtly ask him how Crosshair was doing.

But as it turned out, you would have the opportunity to ask him yourself. If you could get over your frazzled shock at finding him in the rec room instead of Hunter.

The room was conveniently empty, making the silence between you that much more potent. Crosshair was standing awkwardly to the side, just behind one of the battered sofas, as if he had already been confused about what he should be doing before you pushed through the door. He stared at you and you stared at him and the moment only lasted for a few seconds but it felt like an eternity.

"Oh, um. Hi. Crosshair." You averted your gaze, despite having prayed the past several nights that you could see his face again soon. "I was... expecting Hunter."

That didn't sound right. You hoped he didn't take that to mean that you'd prefer if Hunter was here now. Obviously you didn't.

"He stepped out," Crosshair responded in that cool, even tone of his. Your eyes couldn't help but snap back to his as he talked. You wanted him to say more but he never did.

"Oh, okay. I just had some paperwork to give him."

Crosshair only hummed at first. You shuffled your feet a bit, debating whether you should make an attempt at small talk, try to coax more out of him, maybe even hint that you were interested in him. The thought terrified you, but not as much as the thought of being alone. You couldn't complain about that if you continued to let these opportunities pass by without at least trying to make a connection.

You shifted your weight again, intending to keep your feet planted so you wouldn't make a run for it, and Crosshair uttered your name hurriedly.

"Wait," he said. He'd thought you were leaving. You widened your eyes at him, waiting to hear what he'd wanted to tell you first. He seemed to hesitate before finally saying, "I was wondering if you knew what soup they were serving today?"

"Oh. Uh, potato, I think."

"How boring."

You smirked. "I know, right? They could at least serve it with some hot sauce."

Crosshair hummed.

The silence settled back in, though now you felt better about things. You'd practically had a conversation. Learned a little more about each other. It was a good start. 

Your commlink suddenly beeped at your side and you blanched, remembering the meeting you were supposed to be heading to.

"I uh, I've got to go. It was nice talking to you."

It pained you to cut off your moment with him so quickly, but alas you were left with no choice. You shuffled back out into the corridor, though you only made it a few steps before realizing you still had Hunter's paperwork and could just leave it with Crosshair.

The rec room had an old school door that swung in and out on hinges. It was slightly ajar from when you passed through, and already in the few seconds since something was happening on the other side of it. You could hear more voices.

"...the kriff was that?" First, the deep tones of Hunter, equal parts annoyed and weary.

"That wasn't the plan." Then, the resolute voice of Echo, backing him up.

"What?" Crosshair bit back at them.

"You were supposed to ask her out," Hunter clarified.

"No, that was not the plan," Crosshair countered. "I needed to lay some groundwork first."

"You call that groundwork? You were talking about soup."

"And she agreed. No one ever agrees with me on the soup around here."

"What a special connection," Echo said.

Hunter sighed so hard you swore you could feel the breeze through the doorway. "You know, sometimes I think some work on your communication skills wouldn't be such a bad idea."

"What?"

"Never mind. Do what you like. Keep pushing away anyone who tries to love you and see where that gets you. Just know that it's exhausting, watching the two of you dance around each other like this."

"And kind of pathetic," added Echo.

You were against the wall by the door, holding in your breath for so long you were about to pass out. Or maybe it was the euphoria of knowing Crosshair was interested that made your head sway. Regardless, you had mere moments to make a move or let the opportunity pass. You dug into your pocket, fished out a pen, and scribbled a note on the top page of paperwork. Was it professional? Absolutely not. But the GAR would get over it. You left the papers by the door, making sure your note was turned to face it.

There's better soups on Coruscant. Let's go out sometime.

Vandor-3. Woodland outskirts. Autumn.

You were alone, standing in the middle of the training field, the early setting sun behind you casting a dim shadow across the remains of your latest training exercise. A chill was just starting to set in, causing you to tug at your jacket and pull it around you a bit tighter. You liked these moments, rare as they were recently. A quiet time to yourself. Not even to think, but simply to be. Present and comfortable. And you.

The wind picked up and sang through the taller blades of grass as a ship approached for landing. Your moment was over, but a new happiness settled in its place. Minutes later, the Havoc Marauder was opening its hatch and spitting out its soldiers.

"Captain," Hunter gave you a two-finger salute as he passed by.

"Sergeant," you returned with a smile.

Echo was close behind, giving you a respectful nod. Wrecker hauled a munitions crate in one hand and hit you up for a high five with the other. Tech was oblivious as he hunched over a data pad.

They filed by, one after the other, headed straight for the barracks, and what you hoped were the showers. They all knew not to linger, that you'd catch up with them later. This was your time with Crosshair.

The sniper was leaning up against the hatch opening, arms folded across a plastoid chest and a toothpick lazily perched between slightly curled lips. He took you in for a moment and you could feel yourself glowing in response to his soft gaze.

"Showing those clankers who's boss, I see," he said as he made his way down the gangway. He nodded his head toward the mess of scrap metal behind you.

You gave a half shrug. "My reaction time is getting better, but I still can't get the angles right with those pucks."

Crosshair inched up to you, gently resting his hands on either side of your waist. "Have you been doing the breathing exercises like I showed you?"

You nodded. Your hands instinctually came up to his run along his arms until they found the crook of his elbows, the only place not barring your touch by armor.

"And using the laser sight?"

You nodded a little slower and Crosshair tsked.

"I want to be good without it. Like you." You added a little extra honey to your words so he wouldn't reprimand you too much. It had been an adjustment for the two of you at first, he stepping into a training role and you stepping back to receive instruction for once. Thankfully the frustrations seemed to diminish the more your relationship progressed.

"You have to be patient," he said, giving your waist a slight squeeze to accentuate his point. "You aren't like the regs you train. You're building your skills, taking care of yourself."

You hummed, more in thought than agreement. "Will I ever have to use these skills someday, do you think? Is it really getting that bad out there?"

You tried not to think about how many soldiers you had trained only to be sent to a battlefield to die. How many of the shinies you were drilling right now would likely be killed soon. How many more would be brought in to take their place. You'd thought you'd known what you were getting yourself into with this job. But the relentless cycle of it all was getting to you more and more, especially as the Republic continued to be challenged in larger scales and higher stakes. It never seemed to end.

"It's hard to say," Crosshair responded. "We have to prepare for the worst."

You hated that answer, but you wouldn't let him see it. Not yet. Your fears and your displeasures, anger and sorrow, were things yet to be fully explored in this new relationship. All in due time. So you simply smiled, plucked the toothpick out of his mouth and tossed it aside. 

"And hope for the best, right?"

He smiled back, or at least moved his mouth in the direction of a smile, as much as you could usually get from the reserved man. "Yes, of course."

He leaned forward and rested his forehead against yours. You both closed your eyes and breathed each other in. There was warmth in his embrace. A promise in the steady hands he held you with. Vulnerability in the skin that gently touched yours. To have someone this close, someone who was still more stranger than friend, though no less beloved, was what you had always wanted. And for once, what you wanted was just as lovely and fulfilling as you'd hoped. No catch. No deals. No unintended consequences. Just you and him and happiness.

All too soon he pulled away. His hand sought yours as he turned in the direction of the barracks. The longer you stayed behind, the worse the teasing from the others would be. They were only respectful of your relationship to a point, and after that it was fair game for a laugh. So you willingly followed.

"Crosshair?"

"Hm?"

"I was thinking about Hunter...."

The sniper glanced at you suspiciously.

"Well, you know he and I have been friends for a while. And he's confided a few things in me before. About what he wants. Or thinks he wants. He's changed his mind a few times on the specifics. But all in the same gist."

"Where are you going with this?"

"I don't know, I just feel like I owe him for helping me get through a tough time. And if it weren't for him, I wouldn't have ever met you. So--"

Crosshair cut you off with a groan. "If you're trying to get me to play matchmaker..."

"It would get some of the attention off of us," you quickly offered. "If Hunter had someone he was bringing around, too. Or even just interested in."

Crosshair frowned in thought. "There was a bartender on Scarif he kept checking out..."

You grinned and squeezed his hand affectionately. "See? Just keep an eye out and nudge him a bit. Who knows what could happen."

You could tell he was trying not to roll his eyes for your sake. Instead he squeezed your hand in return. "Or you could come with us and nudge him yourself?"

Your walking slowed, right as you were about to cross the facility boundary line. You would have to let go of his hand once you crossed it, keep a professional distance, share your company with others. And once the Batch's business here concluded, then you would have to let him go and watch him disappear into the sky with all the prayers you could possibly send with him. And then you would be on your own. Waiting, waiting, always waiting. And maybe he would return, and maybe he wouldn't.

And heaven forbid you would ever end up alone again.

"Or you can stay," he said. The quietness of his voice betrayed what he really meant, what he really wanted. 

And you knew what you wanted, too. Without you realizing, it was getting easier and easier for you to define your desires. And not only that, but to pursue them, too. To know your happiness was worth the risk of disappointment. It was clear to you now that you were not only worthy, but also capable. The man standing before you, holding your hand, gazing at you like nothing else mattered, was proof enough.

And so you said, "Take me with you."

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#comment reblog

[masterjedilenawrites]

Take Me Out

Bad Batch x Reader Exchange 2024

Crosshair x fem!reader | 4.7k words

Content: drinking, light angst, introspection, fluff, light humor, crushes, relationships, friendship, mentions of war and death, weapons (practice setting)

Prompts: "What am I even looking for?" - "I don't know" & "Sometimes I think some work on your communication skills wouldn't be such a bad idea."

My gift is for the event host - @ghostofskywalker! I was so excited to draw your name and I really hope you enjoy the fic. You put so much work and care into hosting these events for the fandom, it really is appreciated 🤗

I've actually had this story concept in mind for quite a while. I love that pretty much all of your prompts/wish-list items were able to fit in! We've got some platonic Hunter, romantic Crosshair, a little angst, a bit of fluff... Perfect!

Oh, and to keep things spoiler free (on my blog and for the event), this takes place before Order 66 and Omega.

Please go check out the @cloneficgiftexchange blog for all the other contributions to this great event! Fics are being posted all throughout today (4/13/24). Spread the love for fandom writers/creators by reblogging!

Vandor-3. Clone training facility: recreation sector. Winter.

You sat slumped over the bar, a drink cradled in your arms. You took lazy sips at the liquid, long past its effervescence, in between chewing on the straw. You could smell the evidence of your waning hygiene, being curled in on yourself like this. It disgusted you but not enough to do anything beyond self loathing. To say you were miserable was an understatement.

"Morning, Captain. A bit early for a drink, isn't it?"

The husky voice of the bar's newcomer was unmistakeable in who it belonged to. There were clones abound on this small moon, hundreds of identical-sounding men. But every once in a while you had the pleasure of hearing the one that was different.

You sluggishly swiveled your head and gave Sergeant Hunter a mock salute. He leaned against the bar beside you, seemingly torn between being amused and concerned by what he was seeing.

"Back so soon?" you asked, ignoring his own question. Though your speech wasn't slurred, your voice still betrayed some of the numbness you were working to surround yourself in. Which helped your friend make up his mind on how to feel.

"Easy mission," Hunter shrugged off the topic. "You okay? Did something happen?"

"No," you sighed and forced yourself to sit upright. Best to appear more in control and not give him reason to drag you to the med bay. "That's the problem. Nothing's happened."

Hunter frowned and slid onto the barstool next to you. You caught a whiff of soap as he did, a harsh contrast to your own odor that made you even more upset.

"I don't understand."

Your hands cupped around your glass, condensation pooling around your fingers, and you stared at the melting ice wishing to be as frozen and unfeeling.

"I don't understand, either," you whispered. "Why I'm still so... alone."

"Ah." Hunter placed a sympathetic hand on your shoulder. "That's right, you had that date you were going on. Another dud, then?"

You nodded, still refusing to look away from the ice cubes.

He hummed in thought. Your poor friend. How many times had he now had to come up with some sort of reassuring comment after another one of your failed attempts to find love? At least you were grateful you had such a friend, though. Where others would have made you feel guilty for admitting to loneliness, would have insisted they were company enough and all you had to do was ask for it, it's as simple as that, how dare you feel lonely when you aren't actually alone... Hunter was the one who always saw through to what you really meant. You were not what the other wanted, but you were both wanting, craving that kind of deep, romantic connection that seemed to allude you both. For Hunter, it was obviously his schedule that got in his way. For you... well, that was the mystery.

"You have to keep looking," was the sentiment Hunter settled on this time. He rubbed at your shoulder a bit, as if trying to smooth out your misery.

You huffed. His attempts to comfort were sweet, but not enough. You couldn't help but protest. "But with everyone I meet, I just find out what I don't want. What am I even looking for?"

"I don't know," Hunter shook his head sadly. "I don't know if anyone knows until they find it."

You groaned and slumped back forward, facepalming the bar top and wishing you could sink right into it. Sink down, down, down until you disappeared completely.

"Sorry, Cap," Hunter's now muffled voice attempted to chuckle, lighten the mood. "If I could track down your soul mate, I would. You know I would."

That comment was sweet enough. You forced yourself to stop sinking, lift yourself up again, and face your friend properly.

"I know. And I appreciate that. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be such a bummer today. It's just... it's been getting harder, is all."

He nodded and you nodded back and nothing further needed to be understood on the matter.

"Were you needing something from me?" you changed the subject. "Or did you come to day drink as well?"

"Ha, ha." Hunter started to get up. "Yeah no, I just wanted to let you know we were back for a few rotations, see if you'd have some time to finally come out and meet the boys."

You lifted up your glass and shook it a bit. "You're too late, I'm afraid. If I'd known you'd be back so soon, I wouldn't have started on this journey of self destruction."

Hunter titled his head at you, some of that trademark concern still showing. "This isn't going to be an all week thing, is it?"

You shrugged. Truthfully, you had no idea what to do with yourself. Making decisions even a day in advance seemed like too big of a commitment in your fragile state.

"I'd rather not meet any more new people right now, if it's all the same to you."

"I wouldn't consider them new. You've heard enough stories about each other by now. It's starting to get weird that you're not meeting, quite frankly."

You wanted to laugh, but the thought of introductions, stiff pleasantries, awkward small talk... It reminded you of every first date that never turned into a second, every dating app chat thread that went nowhere, every high hope you watched turn into disappointment. Even with a group like Hunter's brothers, the Bad Batch, with a reputation of being unconventional, who you'd only be making friends with just like you had with Hunter and every other clone on this moon... it was still too much for you to stomach.

"Sorry, maybe next time."

Hunter frowned, but he didn't overstep. "Suit yourself. Door's still open though. You know where to find us."

He made to walk out but paused to turn back to you for a moment.

"And hey, don't lose hope. We'll find our people soon enough. In the meantime, take care of yourself, alright?"

You waited until the bar doors closed behind him to let your tears fall.

* * *

Vandor-3. Woodland outskirts. Spring.

You were here. Finally.

You weren't able to pinpoint exactly where the turning point occurred, between crying yourself to sleep every night and being able to wake up with a smile on your face. A small one, of course, but a smile nonetheless. You weren't even sure it was something that had happened overnight. Slowly, eventually, the frost over your heart melted, the shadows in your thoughts grew thinner and lighter. Without even realizing you were drawing back the curtains and dusting off the shelves and each day being a little more open than you were the day before.

Your loneliness still existed. It came and went in waves, so while still devastating at times, you were at least afforded with periods of relief. Periods where you could smile again, find fulfillment in your work, and even dare to allow yourself to dream again. And not to mention taking more regular showers. It was always the little things that made the biggest difference, wasn't it?

And now here you were, standing in the early morning sun out in one of the training fields, the Havoc Marauder silhouetted against the sunrise as you shook hands with its crew in a meeting long overdue.

Hunter's stories had done the boys justice. Wrecker was just as larger than life as you'd pictured, aptly choosing to push past your outstretched hand and go in for a bone-crushing hug instead. Tech, who you'd come to know as the brains of the batch, only spared a second to be properly introduced before returning to fidget with some gadget. Echo was all politeness and disciplined respect, with his scomp-salute and ma'ams. And Crosshair... well, he was still on the ship asleep, which you supposed fit with the few facts you knew about him, too.

Hunter beamed beside them, clearly happy you had finally made the effort to meet his squad. His family, really. As a Captain overseeing drill training for the GAR, you knew better than anyone the close bonds these clones formed even before they stepped foot on a battlefield. This meant a lot to him, you being here. You felt awful for postponing so many times.

Once introductions were out of the way, and some pleasant conversation had passed, you eventually ventured out to the part of the training field that actually housed elements for training - your excuse for coming out here to meet everyone. A munitions crate full of shiny new blasters was carried between you and Wrecker while Hunter ran ahead to set up some targets. Tech and Echo went back to the ship to work on repairs.

"Aaaaugh. Only blasters?" Wrecker lamented upon opening the crate.

"Sorry, more budget cuts. This was all I could scrounge up for you guys."

Hunter was much more excited by the new weapons, though Wrecker still picked one up to try out. You held one as well but only used it to demonstrate different techniques. Just because you were good at training didn't mean you were the best at actually fighting.

The three of you picked off the various bottles, pots, and pans that Hunter had set up amongst the tree branches at the edge of the field for a short while. And on more than one occasion you found yourself pausing to breathe in the air and remind yourself that life was good. Maybe not how you wanted it, but it was still good and you'd need to continue to work on appreciating what you had.

After about an hour, there were only three bottles and a pan left, all proving tricky targets due to distance and angle. Hunter had even tried slinging a few knives to no avail.

"Okay I'm calling it," Wrecker announced with a huff. "One more missed shot and I'm blowing them up."

"I'll take that bet."

A new voice, one you'd never heard before, carried across the field. It was delicate and drawling and confident. Hunter chuckled and Wrecker rolled his eyes. And you... you had no idea that everything was about to change.

It was like he was moving in slow motion. Your surroundings blurred as the lanky figure caught the corner of your eye, your heart rate slowing as you turned and took him in. One confident step planted firmly in front of the other as he inched across the field. A sniper rifle perched on his shoulder. A toothpick between pursed lips. An eye surrounded by a reticle and narrowed in determination. He didn't even spare you a glance, and thank the gods, because if he had, you were sure your heart would've stopped beating altogether.

He squared off as soon as he reached the marks, bringing his rile forward to aim in a swift and careful motion. His head rested against the shaft, his tattooed eye squinted through the scope. You imagined him taking this stance a thousand times in his short life. It looked as natural a position as curling up on a couch might look for you.

You couldn't look away, not wanting to miss a single second of whatever this mesmerizing man was about to do. He was still for a moment, impressively so. You realized you were holding your breath as you watched, not wanting even your exhale to interfere with his process.

And then he fired. Once, twice, threefourfive times. Bang, bang, bang. Each in a different direction but no less precise than the one before. The first ricocheted off the pan and hit the green bottle, just as the second hit the red bottle. The three-shot volley was aimed at the branch the bottles sat on, causing it to crack and dangle even closer to the ground. And just when you thought the show couldn't be more over the top, the sniper swiveled his rifle toward the sky at a passing bird, clipped its wing with a shot, and then whipped out a pistol from his hip and fired at the remaining blue bottle just before the branch snapped and fell to the ground.

A few seconds later, the bird tumbled on top of the pile of shattered glass and splintered wood.

"Aaaand training is now over," said Hunter with a nod of his head. He raised his voice as he called out to his brother. "You'd better clean that shit up!"

The sniper flipped him the bird before sauntering off to clean up.

"Uh, you alright?"

Hunter paused in his own packing of gear to give you a concerned look. You were still staring after the newcomer, undoubtedly the lone Batcher you had yet to meet. Crosshair. Your brain had short-circuited with what you had witnessed him do, yes. But it was more than that. There was something about him. Something intriguing and attractive. Different than anyone you had ever known, and yet, somehow feeling so real and comfortable at the same time.

After a few waves of your friend's hand in your face, you snapped back.

"That," you breathed.

Hunter cocked a confused eyebrow.

"That is what I'm looking for."

* * *

Vandor-3. Clone training facility: recreation sector. Summer.

You were insanely busy. Separatist activity was ramping up in almost every corner of the galaxy and the GAR was responding to each new threat with full force. Rotations of new clone units were frequently arriving at the facility, one after another. You'd cycle them through a few trainings to get them certified on whatever was needed and then ship them right back out. And in between were all the additional tasks that needed to be taken care of. Piles of paperwork and coordinating schedules and ship inspections and updated security debriefings.

And yet through it all, you still had time to entertain the one thought that buzzed in the background of your mind: Crosshair. Every meeting, every meal, every training sim, first thing in the morning and last thing at night. He was there. Crosshair, Crosshair, Crosshair. On your mind, in your heart, driving you absolutely mad.

In the beginning you'd pretended it wasn't about him, specifically. You were simply happy to know what you wanted now, that you had a type and it existed. That was all. Hunter had turned up his nose, completely bewildered as to why that would be your type. You hadn't been able to give him much at the time; it would take you many rotations more to start describing the details of your newly discovered attraction.

But over time, it became harder to push aside the nagging thought that you hadn't found what you were looking for, but rather who. Specifically. Exactly. Why try to find someone like him when you already liked... him?

Oh there were plenty of ways you could answer that question, all of them self-deprecating and none of them productive. You could count on one hand now the number of times you had been in the same room as him, let alone interacted with him. The Batch may be frequenting the place more often as the war picked up, but not nearly as often as you needed to gauge whether someone like Crosshair would, could, or honestly even should be as interested in you as you were in him.

Today they were back on the grounds so Hunter could fill out some paperwork, and your heart had not stopped racing all morning. It was practically threatening to punch right out of your chest and run away. You weren't sure why, considering you'd probably only end up seeing Hunter this time. The rest of the Batch usually didn't venture into the facility unless they were staying overnight. But it seemed even knowing Crosshair was on the same planet as you got you worked up these days.

You carried Hunter's stack of paperwork with you now, intending to drop it off to him in between some meetings you had. As you hustled down the halls, you rehearsed a few ways you could subtly ask him how Crosshair was doing.

But as it turned out, you would have the opportunity to ask him yourself. If you could get over your frazzled shock at finding him in the rec room instead of Hunter.

The room was conveniently empty, making the silence between you that much more potent. Crosshair was standing awkwardly to the side, just behind one of the battered sofas, as if he had already been confused about what he should be doing before you pushed through the door. He stared at you and you stared at him and the moment only lasted for a few seconds but it felt like an eternity.

"Oh, um. Hi. Crosshair." You averted your gaze, despite having prayed the past several nights that you could see his face again soon. "I was... expecting Hunter."

That didn't sound right. You hoped he didn't take that to mean that you'd prefer if Hunter was here now. Obviously you didn't.

"He stepped out," Crosshair responded in that cool, even tone of his. Your eyes couldn't help but snap back to his as he talked. You wanted him to say more but he never did.

"Oh, okay. I just had some paperwork to give him."

Crosshair only hummed at first. You shuffled your feet a bit, debating whether you should make an attempt at small talk, try to coax more out of him, maybe even hint that you were interested in him. The thought terrified you, but not as much as the thought of being alone. You couldn't complain about that if you continued to let these opportunities pass by without at least trying to make a connection.

You shifted your weight again, intending to keep your feet planted so you wouldn't make a run for it, and Crosshair uttered your name hurriedly.

"Wait," he said. He'd thought you were leaving. You widened your eyes at him, waiting to hear what he'd wanted to tell you first. He seemed to hesitate before finally saying, "I was wondering if you knew what soup they were serving today?"

"Oh. Uh, potato, I think."

"How boring."

You smirked. "I know, right? They could at least serve it with some hot sauce."

Crosshair hummed.

The silence settled back in, though now you felt better about things. You'd practically had a conversation. Learned a little more about each other. It was a good start. 

Your commlink suddenly beeped at your side and you blanched, remembering the meeting you were supposed to be heading to.

"I uh, I've got to go. It was nice talking to you."

It pained you to cut off your moment with him so quickly, but alas you were left with no choice. You shuffled back out into the corridor, though you only made it a few steps before realizing you still had Hunter's paperwork and could just leave it with Crosshair.

The rec room had an old school door that swung in and out on hinges. It was slightly ajar from when you passed through, and already in the few seconds since something was happening on the other side of it. You could hear more voices.

"...the kriff was that?" First, the deep tones of Hunter, equal parts annoyed and weary.

"That wasn't the plan." Then, the resolute voice of Echo, backing him up.

"What?" Crosshair bit back at them.

"You were supposed to ask her out," Hunter clarified.

"No, that was not the plan," Crosshair countered. "I needed to lay some groundwork first."

"You call that groundwork? You were talking about soup."

"And she agreed. No one ever agrees with me on the soup around here."

"What a special connection," Echo said.

Hunter sighed so hard you swore you could feel the breeze through the doorway. "You know, sometimes I think some work on your communication skills wouldn't be such a bad idea."

"What?"

"Never mind. Do what you like. Keep pushing away anyone who tries to love you and see where that gets you. Just know that it's exhausting, watching the two of you dance around each other like this."

"And kind of pathetic," added Echo.

You were against the wall by the door, holding in your breath for so long you were about to pass out. Or maybe it was the euphoria of knowing Crosshair was interested that made your head sway. Regardless, you had mere moments to make a move or let the opportunity pass. You dug into your pocket, fished out a pen, and scribbled a note on the top page of paperwork. Was it professional? Absolutely not. But the GAR would get over it. You left the papers by the door, making sure your note was turned to face it.

There's better soups on Coruscant. Let's go out sometime.

* * *

Vandor-3. Woodland outskirts. Autumn.

You were alone, standing in the middle of the training field, the early setting sun behind you casting a dim shadow across the remains of your latest training exercise. A chill was just starting to set in, causing you to tug at your jacket and pull it around you a bit tighter. You liked these moments, rare as they were recently. A quiet time to yourself. Not even to think, but simply to be. Present and comfortable. And you.

The wind picked up and sang through the taller blades of grass as a ship approached for landing. Your moment was over, but a new happiness settled in its place. Minutes later, the Havoc Marauder was opening its hatch and spitting out its soldiers.

"Captain," Hunter gave you a two-finger salute as he passed by.

"Sergeant," you returned with a smile.

Echo was close behind, giving you a respectful nod. Wrecker hauled a munitions crate in one hand and hit you up for a high five with the other. Tech was oblivious as he hunched over a data pad.

They filed by, one after the other, headed straight for the barracks, and what you hoped were the showers. They all knew not to linger, that you'd catch up with them later. This was your time with Crosshair.

The sniper was leaning up against the hatch opening, arms folded across a plastoid chest and a toothpick lazily perched between slightly curled lips. He took you in for a moment and you could feel yourself glowing in response to his soft gaze.

"Showing those clankers who's boss, I see," he said as he made his way down the gangway. He nodded his head toward the mess of scrap metal behind you.

You gave a half shrug. "My reaction time is getting better, but I still can't get the angles right with those pucks."

Crosshair inched up to you, gently resting his hands on either side of your waist. "Have you been doing the breathing exercises like I showed you?"

You nodded. Your hands instinctually came up to his run along his arms until they found the crook of his elbows, the only place not barring your touch by armor.

"And using the laser sight?"

You nodded a little slower and Crosshair tsked.

"I want to be good without it. Like you." You added a little extra honey to your words so he wouldn't reprimand you too much. It had been an adjustment for the two of you at first, he stepping into a training role and you stepping back to receive instruction for once. Thankfully the frustrations seemed to diminish the more your relationship progressed.

"You have to be patient," he said, giving your waist a slight squeeze to accentuate his point. "You aren't like the regs you train. You're building your skills, taking care of yourself."

You hummed, more in thought than agreement. "Will I ever have to use these skills someday, do you think? Is it really getting that bad out there?"

You tried not to think about how many soldiers you had trained only to be sent to a battlefield to die. How many of the shinies you were drilling right now would likely be killed soon. How many more would be brought in to take their place. You'd thought you'd known what you were getting yourself into with this job. But the relentless cycle of it all was getting to you more and more, especially as the Republic continued to be challenged in larger scales and higher stakes. It never seemed to end.

"It's hard to say," Crosshair responded. "We have to prepare for the worst."

You hated that answer, but you wouldn't let him see it. Not yet. Your fears and your displeasures, anger and sorrow, were things yet to be fully explored in this new relationship. All in due time. So you simply smiled, plucked the toothpick out of his mouth and tossed it aside. 

"And hope for the best, right?"

He smiled back, or at least moved his mouth in the direction of a smile, as much as you could usually get from the reserved man. "Yes, of course."

He leaned forward and rested his forehead against yours. You both closed your eyes and breathed each other in. There was warmth in his embrace. A promise in the steady hands he held you with. Vulnerability in the skin that gently touched yours. To have someone this close, someone who was still more stranger than friend, though no less beloved, was what you had always wanted. And for once, what you wanted was just as lovely and fulfilling as you'd hoped. No catch. No deals. No unintended consequences. Just you and him and happiness.

All too soon he pulled away. His hand sought yours as he turned in the direction of the barracks. The longer you stayed behind, the worse the teasing from the others would be. They were only respectful of your relationship to a point, and after that it was fair game for a laugh. So you willingly followed.

"Crosshair?"

"Hm?"

"I was thinking about Hunter...."

The sniper glanced at you suspiciously.

"Well, you know he and I have been friends for a while. And he's confided a few things in me before. About what he wants. Or thinks he wants. He's changed his mind a few times on the specifics. But all in the same gist."

"Where are you going with this?"

"I don't know, I just feel like I owe him for helping me get through a tough time. And if it weren't for him, I wouldn't have ever met you. So--"

Crosshair cut you off with a groan. "If you're trying to get me to play matchmaker..."

"It would get some of the attention off of us," you quickly offered. "If Hunter had someone he was bringing around, too. Or even just interested in."

Crosshair frowned in thought. "There was a bartender on Scarif he kept checking out..."

You grinned and squeezed his hand affectionately. "See? Just keep an eye out and nudge him a bit. Who knows what could happen."

You could tell he was trying not to roll his eyes for your sake. Instead he squeezed your hand in return. "Or you could come with us and nudge him yourself?"

Your walking slowed, right as you were about to cross the facility boundary line. You would have to let go of his hand once you crossed it, keep a professional distance, share your company with others. And once the Batch's business here concluded, then you would have to let him go and watch him disappear into the sky with all the prayers you could possibly send with him. And then you would be on your own. Waiting, waiting, always waiting. And maybe he would return, and maybe he wouldn't.

And heaven forbid you would ever end up alone again.

"Or you can stay," he said. The quietness of his voice betrayed what he really meant, what he really wanted. 

And you knew what you wanted, too. Without you realizing, it was getting easier and easier for you to define your desires. And not only that, but to pursue them, too. To know your happiness was worth the risk of disappointment. It was clear to you now that you were not only worthy, but also capable. The man standing before you, holding your hand, gazing at you like nothing else mattered, was proof enough.

And so you said, "Take me with you."

Every Character Tag: @dangerousstrawberrypie, @justanothersadperson93, @arctrooper69, @sleepycreativewriter, @techie-bear, @theroguesully, @cw80831, @cdblake1565

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#star wars #the clone wars #the bad batch #crosshair #crosshair x reader #fluff #angst #romance #cloneficgiftexchange #hunter #wrecker #echo #tech