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zoeykallus · 6 months

Note

Hello Zoey

First , I wanted to tell you again that I love the stories you gave us , thank you , really , you're one of the few who can make me forget time when I'm reading 👌❤️

It's my first request so I'm sorry if it's a bit clumsy 😅

I had an idea , imagine that after a mission the reader is so tired that they took the first bunk they saw but it's not their's , how would the batchers react ? x)

Aloha!

Very happy to read this! 😊 Thank you so much!

There is a first time for everything. Don't worry, there is nothing clumsy about it. I think I got it. So pre Relationship, but with already growing yet unspoken feelings? At least that would be my guess. Let me see, this could be fun 😁🤭

The Bad Batch x Reader HCs - Sleepy Mix-Ups

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Warnings: None I guess/SFW/Fluff

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Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

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Hunter

He almost threw his equipment at you. At the last moment, he sees you lying in his bunk and just manages to stop himself. Hunter is puzzled, raises his eyebrows questioningly and looks at you for a moment. A small smile twitches at the corners of his mouth. You look kind of cute lying there in his bunk. He sighs softly and looks around, his gaze falling on your actual bunk. He walks towards it, takes off his equipment, and even before he lies down in it, he smells it. The bedding and the pillow smell of your shampoo, your perfume, of you. A strange, warm shiver runs through his entire body. Hunter looks back over his shoulder to his own bunk, where you are slumbering blissfully. He knows the scent of you will keep him awake for a while, make him woozy. He feels a tingling restlessness under his skin, a silent longing for more of what reaches his nose, more of you. Hunter lies down anyway, the other bunks are occupied, and he doesn't want to wake you. He lies awake half the night and dreams of you await him in his sleep, some gentle, some wild. When he wakes up, his heart is beating fast, his pulse racing as if he has just experienced a pleasantly exciting adventure.

He grins a little stupidly to himself and flinches when he hears your voice. "Sorry, I must have gotten the wrong bunk last night because I was so tired." Hunter clears his throat, straightens up and says with a wink, "It's no problem" He looks nervous and a little shaky, you have no idea why, but as he leaves the room to use the refresher, you don't give it a second thought.

Echo

He stands in front of his bunk and looks down at you. He scratches his chin uncertainly with the scomp link. Echo doesn't really know what to do, he doesn't really want to wake you up, you look so peaceful and relaxed. The day has been hard and exhausting for all of you. He holds his hand over his mouth as he yawns. Tired, he rubs his eyes a moment later. His gaze wanders to your bunk and back again. Echo doesn't quite know whether he should just lie down. You've probably made a mistake out of tiredness, if he were to just lie down in your bed now, he would feel like an intruder. Even if the thought of lying on your pillow, which certainly smells like you, is incredibly tempting. Echo sighs softly, sits down on the floor next to his bunk where you are lying and leans against it. It's anything but cozy, but he's tired enough to fall asleep after a short time sitting up, his head resting halfway on the edge of the bunk. He wakes up when something brushes against his head. The blanket you covered yourself with. You move, it's early morning, you're still half asleep when you see Echo looking at you over the edge of the bunk.

You blink several times, a little startled. "Echo? What are you doing down there?" He straightens up a little awkwardly, his back aching a little from the position he's been sleeping in. He smirks wryly and says, "Well, you occupied my bed, so I had to improvise" You rub the sleep from your eyes and look around the bunk. Echo is right, this is not your bedding, not your bunk. Heat rises in your cheeks, and you stare at him. Others might be angry, but Echo just smiles at you. "Why didn't you just use my bunk?" you ask, confused. Echo shrugs, scratches the back of his head uncertainly and says, "Well, I don't know, I didn't want to just do it without being asked" You laugh softly. "But Echo, I climbed into your bed without being asked" Wrecker in the background, still half asleep himself, grins at you from his bunk, "Echo just wished you'd done it while he was in there"

Echo's eyes widen and his heart races. He feels he has been caught, but grumbles at his brother, "Would you please keep your comments to yourself?" When he looks at you again, you both smile shyly, barely able to meet each other's gaze.

Wrecker

He looks into his bunk, puzzled. Wrecker wasn't expecting this. A little unsettled, he scratches the back of his head and looks around. Everyone else is already asleep, or about to fall asleep. His huge figure stands bent over you next to the bunk you're lying in, his bunk. Normally you would probably have woken up just from the feeling of being watched, by his presence, but you're so wiped out today, probably not even a bomb would wake you up. Wrecker's bunk is bigger than the standardized bunks, because he himself is also bigger than the norm among soldiers, so you should have noticed that alone, but you didn't. He looks over to your bunk, the only one that is still empty and much smaller than he is used to. You mumble something in your sleep. A smile spreads across his face. He was actually toying with the idea of waking you up, but you look so cute, he can't bring himself to do it. Wrecker heads for your bunk, gets ready for bed, and squeezes himself in. When you wake up the next morning, it takes a moment, but you realize you're in the wrong bunk. "Oops," you mumble quietly, straighten up and look around. Everyone is still asleep.

Wrecker is lying in your bunk. He can't stretch out his legs, he's curled up like a fetus, his knees sticking out over the edge of the bunk. It looks uncomfortable, but also adorable. You slip out of bed and quietly walk over to him. You gently nudge him a few times until he opens his eyes. "Hey, big guy," you whisper to him. He blinks, finally grins at you and mumbles back, "Mornin' sweetheart" "Sorry about the bunk, I was so tired I didn't realize which bunk I was in," you say apologetically. Wrecker peels himself out of the too-small bunk and says with a shrug, "It's okay, it can happen" You are relieved that he takes it so lightly. He adds, "Your bunk is pretty tiny, but it smells damn good" You smile shyly and feel your cheeks heat up.

Tech

He almost sits down on you because he is so engrossed in his holopad. At the last moment, he realizes that his bunk is already occupied. Tech lowers the holopad and stares at you silently, as if he could wake you up with his gaze alone. His brow furrowed, he looks at his bunk and wonders how you could have mistaken it. The walls are scrawled with drawings and calculations he made at some point, it's hard to miss. Were you really that tired? He reaches out for you, but just above your arm, his hand stops, he holds it there uncertainly in the air for a while, undecided whether to wake you or not. Actually, this is his bunk, Tech thinks, you shouldn't sleep in it. But there's another thought, a feeling. Because you are sleeping in his bed, you are very close to him in a way. In the morning, his pillow will certainly smell of you. A part of him that he doesn't really understand at the moment, likes that, a lot. He stands there for a long time, the datapad in his hand, watching you. Echo whispers softly over the snoring of the others, "Why don't you go to their bunk, the staring is getting creepy" Tech blinks, startled, and turns to his brother.

He whispers back, "But this is my bunk" Echo sighs and says a little impatiently, "They were extremely tired, I'm sure it was an accident. Now just let them sleep and lie down in their bunk" Tech walks to your bunk, stares at it for a while, then finally lies down. It feels very different, strange, but somehow also pleasant. It smells good, although foreign, but at the same time familiar, because it smells like you. Lost in thought, he begins to paint the walls of the bunk with drawings and calculations. When he falls asleep, Tech still has the pen in his hand and your smell in his nose. It feels like he's falling asleep in your arms and all night long, Tech has a little smile on his lips. When he wakes up, it's still night, and you're already standing next to his bunk. "Sorry," you say quietly. Tech needs a moment to collect himself, the fog of sleep hasn't quite left him yet. "It's okay," he says just as softly, and peels himself out of bed to swap bunks back with you.

You lie down and look around in the semi-darkness. Tech has painted practically every free space. As you lie on your back, you look directly at the sketch of a podracer and a wild sequence of numbers that probably only he understands. You smile. Tech has slept in your bed and left something like his signature, somehow you are so happy about it that you want to kick your feet and squeak.

Crosshair

He is taking off his equipment, turns around and pauses in mid-motion. His brows draw together critically. There's someone lying in his bunk, you. He mutters quietly, "You're kidding me" He lets out an annoyed sigh and stares at you. The intensity of his gaze alone might even have woken you up under normal circumstances, but not today. His gaze finally moves to your bunk, which is empty at the moment, but then his eyes narrow to critical slits. Crosshair has no intention of being evicted from his bunk, accident or not. He grabs you and pushes you to the back of the bunk. Just as you open your eyes in shock and blink, trying to get your bearings, he joins you and takes part of the blanket, decently enough to keep you covered. Startled, you stare at him.

"But... what...?" He cocks a brow at you. "This is my bunk, if you want to sleep in it, fine, but I'm not swapping, so you better get used to me being close or crawl back into your own, kitten" he grumbles. Your heart is racing, you're confused and speechless, trying to untangle the situation in your mind. Just having him so close to you makes you nervous enough. But to be honest, you have no desire to go back to your own bunk. All you say is a quiet, "Okay" A smirk twitches briefly at the corner of his mouth, barely noticeable. Quietly and much more softly, in his smoky voice, he says as he closes his eyes, "Good night, Kitten"

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

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@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

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@hunterxcrosshair

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@jediknightjana

@pb-jellybeans

@antishadow2021

@sleepycreativewriter

@projectdreamwalker

@1vlouds

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soaringthroughthegalaxy · 7 months

Text

Be Mine

Falling into bed with the handsome Sergeant hadn't been on your bingo card. Then again, falling in love with him certainly hadn't been either.

Pairing: Hunter x f!reader

Rating: 18+ MINORS DNI!

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: unprotected PiV, a sprinkle of a praise kink, pet names, friends to lovers, a sprinkle of a scent kink, soft aftercare.

It had all happened so quickly.

One moment, you’d been stood at the back of the Marauder with Hunter discussing food rations and when the rest of the Batch would be back from their exploration.

The next, you were face down on a bottom bunk, naked from the waist down, with his rough hands hauling you backwards onto his cock. “That’s it, cyar’ika.” The smokey smoothness of Hunter’s voice cut through the sounds of your whimpers and skin meeting skin. “Wanted this for so long. You have no idea.” He grunted, tightening his grip on your hips. You’d have bruises shaped like his dexterous fingers tomorrow, a delicious reminder of this moment.

Hand flexing against the flimsy sheet, you vaguely registered that it was Echo’s bunk you were face down on. “Tell me.” You whined, gasping as a fluid roll of Hunter’s hips made his heavy balls slap against your clit.

“Canto Blight.” Hunter gritted out, slowing his thrusts so he could languish in your warmth. He wanted this to last. Needed it to. “That blasted dress. I wanted to drag you back here, hike up the hem, and have you until dawn.” The memory lived rent-free in his mind. It had been your second mission with them, and the Sergeant had already found himself enamoured with you, so when you’d stepped out the fresher dressed to impress, he’d never been more grateful to be the only one able to hear his racing heart.

“Mhmmm. I still have the dress.” You purred, enjoying that he’d lusted after you for so long. Releasing the sheets, you reached a hand down to rub your clit, but Hunter pushed it away. You didn’t have time to let out a whine of frustration before he pulled all the way out of you, strong hands moving to grab your thighs so he could flip you over and pick you up, your legs and arms automatically wrapping around him.

“Next time. Oh, Maker, next time.” Hunter promised, capturing your lips in a fiery kiss as he moved you across to his bunk. He needed his sheets to smell like you – he wanted to bury himself in them later that night and bathe in your scent. The damn scent that had been driving him wild since you’d set foot on the Marauder many moons ago at Cid’s behest.

His roughness abated as he slowly settled you down on his bed, making sure you didn’t bang your head on the metal frame or hurt your back. It made your heart clench. Finding his eyes in the darkness of the ship, you watched as the fierce hunger from moments before dissipated, and a softness crept over the usually stoic man’s face. “Next time?” You questioned quietly, lifting a hand to run your fingers across his tattooed jawline as he settled above you, caging you in. His weight was comforting – solid and steadfast – but it was hard to miss the firm press of his erection.

“If you want?” Hunter’s hips started to move, pressing himself against you, eliciting a small mewl from your parted lips as he tried to play it cool. He could get drunk on your sounds, on the feel of your soft skin beneath his calloused fingers, of the warmth in your voice and the sweet ways you showed affection. He noticed every time you stole a glance his way, how you stepped forward to protect him when he was in danger, and that his clothes were always neatly folded on his bunk with a piece of his favourite candy on top after laundry day. He’d been sceptical when Cid had insisted you go along with them as another set of hands, but he couldn’t think of the ship anymore without your presence, your scent, or the sound of your laughter as you tormented his siblings.

“Oh, I want.” You agreed, exhaling shakily. The slip and slide of his cock through your folds was delicious but not enough. “Hunter. Need more. Need you.” You begged.

The hunger from early roared back into life, igniting Hunter’s blood. Pushing away the softer feelings to focus on later, he focused on your current situation. How he longed to bury his face between your thighs and eat you out, slide his fingers and cock into you, pull orgasm after orgasm from you, and fill you with his release. Spurred on by his thoughts, he wasted no time reaching down to align himself with your entrance, and in one steady push, he settled himself back inside of you, marvelling at the way your mouth opened in a silent gasp at the sensation.

Every nerve in your body was alight. Senses overwhelmed by the man on top of you. While Hunter was average in length, his girth led to the most delicious stretch as your body accommodated him. Feeling him fully sheathed inside of you was heavenly, and in your delight, you clenched around him, watching as his eyes screwed shut while his deep groan filled the air. “Keep doing that, and I won’t last long.” He warned, making you smile. It didn’t matter how long he lasted, so long as you both got to experience your highs – you couldn’t imagine how overwhelming it must be for him, with his heightened sense of touch, to feel you so thoroughly.

Leaning up to close the small distance, you captured Hunter’s lips in a kiss, your left hand reaching up to caress his face while the other slipped under the top half of his blacks, tracing every strong muscle you found.

Feeling less like he was going to blow his load any second, Hunter surrendered himself to your kiss and picked up the pace, snapping his hips against yours, driving himself into you over and over, relishing the sweet drag of your walls around his cock. Hunter felt light-headed; he could spend an eternity tangled up with you, which both thrilled and terrified him. Though the space was limited in his bunk, he shifted to rest all his weight on one hand, breaking your kiss while maintaining his thrusts. Sliding a hand between you both, he honed in on his target. You wouldn’t go without. He’d make damn sure of it.

Fingers finding purchase on your clit, he spent a moment figuring out what you liked, vision and hearing focused on the myriad of expressions that crossed your features and the sounds slipping from your lips. It only took a few tries before he had you whimpering, his grin of satisfaction blinding, only ceasing as you stretched up to capture his lips in a heated kiss once more.

“Fuck, Hunter.” You panted, breaking the kiss as your back arched. He was relentless, sure and steady fingers circling your clit with the perfect amount of pressure, and you drew a low moan from the exquisite man above you as you tightened around him. The familiar tension was starting, seeping through your body and overwhelming you.

Enraptured as he watched you chase your release, Hunter slowed his pace and angled his hips, grinning at the sound of your gasp. The way his name sounded tumbling from your lips was simultaneously heavenly and sinful – either way, he couldn’t get enough. “That’s it, cyare. I want to see you fall apart. Can you be a good girl and do that for me?” He whispered, testing the waters. You always responded well to his praise while out on jobs.

It was all too much. The weight of Hunter above you, the sweet drag of his cock in you as he kept hitting that perfect spot with each thrust, and the sound of his deep voice in your ears. You wanted to please him. Wanted to fall apart at his behest. Wanted to be a good girl. Hands scrambling against the sheets for purchase, you bit down on your lower lip. You were close. So close. The tension in your body was almost unbearable, your pussy clamping down on him, making every push and pull feel even more exquisite. Hunter gave a few quick circles on your clit, and your body tingled, the tension snapping as you cried out. You trembled through the waves of your orgasm, the pleasure overwhelming and all-encompassing.

Pulling in a shaky breath, you meet the hungry gaze of the man above you.

“Where?” He asked once he was sure you were back with him. He was close. So close. You’d tightened around him, gripping him like your life depended on it. You could make or break him, and he’d thank you either way.

Releasing the sheets, you grasped at Hunter’s shoulders, giving yourself some leverage as you met his thrusts with each rock of your hips. “Inside.” You insisted.

That was it. You would be the death of him. And he would gladly go down with the ship. His lips met yours, and with one final, sharp thrust, he grunted, letting go. Thighs quivering as he crested over the edge, he spilled himself deep inside you.

Neither of you spoke for a second, trying to catch your breath as you came down from your highs. Resting your foreheads together, eyes closed, you relished the closeness, basking in the afterglow. “Mesh’la…” Hunter’s low voice broke the silence as he moved to nuzzle his nose against your neck, inhaling deeply.

Everything stilled as he breathed you in, focusing on the thud of your heart as its pace slowed to your resting rate. It brought him a great deal of comfort in an increasingly shifting galaxy. He hadn’t meant for your first time together to be like this, hadn’t dared to dream it would ever happen if he were being honest with himself, but he didn’t regret a second of it.

“We should’ve done that sooner.” You whispered, feeling more in control of your racing heart. Hunter’s warm breath fanned against your neck as he chuckled, the deep rumble stoking the warmth in your heart.

You stayed that way for a while before shifting into a more comfortable position, Hunter’s head resting on your chest. Basking in each other’s warmth, you relished the quiet moment of peace; the only sounds were your soft breaths and Hunter’s light hums of appreciation as you scritched his scalp, running your fingers through his mop of brown hair.

“Be mine?” Hunter asked suddenly, shifting to prop himself up so he could gaze down at you, committing the sight of you in his bunk, smelling like him and sex, to memory. “I'd...” He pauses, gaze flittered away momentarily. "I'd like there to be an us." The admission made him feel strangely vulnerable. He hadn’t meant to be so blunt, but he didn’t want to hold back anymore.

This time, you dragged your fingers across the uninked planes of his handsome face. “As long as you’re mine in return.” Your words had his gaze snapping back to you, hope sparking in his eyes as his lips curled into a smile.

#the bad batch x reader #hunter x reader #tbb hunter x reader #hunter the bad batch #sergeant hunter x reader #the bad batch hunter x you #hunter x you #sergeant hunter #tbb x reader #tbb hunter x you #sw tbb #the bad batch #hunter bad batch #soft smut #friends to lovers #star wars the bad batch

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aynavaano · 1 month

Text

Tell me you want me

Hunter x f!reader

Rating: Explicit/NSFW

Wordcount: 3.5k

Summary:

You’re part of Clone Force 99 since a while and have an eye on your Sarge ever since you joined. When you are left alone with him skinny dipping in natural hot springs, things get steamy.

Notes:

Enjoy this little Hunterxf!reader smutlet while we all anxiously wait for the final episode to drop. Reader is part of the squad, she is their medic and has a nickname. All other Batchers make an appearance too. We have fingering and unprotected sex. All happening in the water.

As the sun begins its descent, casting long shadows across the landscape, you and the squad finally retreat back into the Marauder, weary from another grueling day of repairs after your crash landing a few rotations ago. Dropping your tools with a clatter in the corner, you sink down onto the floor, feeling the exhaustion seep into your bones. The day's work has left you covered in a film of sweat and grime, your skin sticky with oil and dust, again.

"If I have to endure one more shower with that recycled water, I swear..." you mutter under your breath, frustration lacing your words. Despite the pressing need to fill up your rations and change the water in the Marauders system or at least the filters, there was no way off this kriffing rock before you got the ship back up and running. The overly recycled water, depleted and stale, left you feeling far worse than without a shower since the last days.

Suddenly, Tech's voice cuts through the exhaustion, his tone matter-of-fact as he suggests an alternative. "There are geothermal hot springs just a couple of clicks south from here, they are perfectly safe to utilize for personal hygiene," he remarks, drawing everyone's attention.

Wrecker's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "So that's where you've been sneaking off to in the evenings," he says, earning a knowing nod from Tech.

"Why didn't you mention THAT before?" you inquire, taken aback by the revelation. Tech shrugs nonchalantly.

"Nobody asked me and you all seemed content with the ship's refresher,besides I didn’t sneak off I just went there, " he replies simply, earning an eye-roll from Crosshair and a sigh from Hunter.

"Well, looks like we're all going tonight," Hunter declares, scanning the room as everyone nods eagerly. However, Tech interjects with an apologetic tone.

"Except for Echo. I'm sorry, but the mineral composition of the water isn't compatible with your mechanical parts." Echo sighs resignedly.

"Well, Someone has to watch the ship anyway," he remarks, grabbing a ration bar before retreating to the cockpit.

Watching him leave, Hunter urges everyone else to gather their essentials as you prepare for the trip to the hot springs.

Following Tech's lead, you traverse through a dense thicket of trees and across a rugged terrain, the distant plumes of steam already signaling the promise of warm, rejuvenating waters.

When you finally arrive at the steaming natural pools, happiness surges through your veins, eager to immerse yourself in the warm, relaxing waters. You swiftly cast your bag aside and quickly shed your clothes, opting for a skinny dip - a necessity, given that swimwear isn’t something provided by the GAR. But the night is dark enough to conceal your naked body, the dense steam rising from the water further obscuring any view.

As the squad's medic, you've seen them in various states of undress during countless check-ups or emergencies, but you've managed to maintain your own privacy, determined not to stir up any trouble within the group. However, you can’t deny that you have a weak spot for your Sergeant ever since you joined them and enjoyed patching him up a bit too much.

The sound of water splashing nearby interrupts your thoughts, and you turn to see Wrecker paddling around eagerly. "Come on in Mini, it's amazing. We won't peek, I promise," he assures you with a boisterous grin. You chuckle at the affectionate nickname he gave you a while ago, and the others quickly adopted, not wrongly, given that you are barely more than half his size.

With a contented sigh, you lower yourself into the soothing embrace of the hot spring, feeling the tension melt away from your weary muscles. The clean, refreshing sensation of the water provides a stark contrast to the sticky residue left behind by the Marauder's recycled water and it feels incredibly good to finally get rid of it.

Occasionally, a gentle breeze disperses the swirling steam, offering you fleeting glimpses of your crew mates. Your gaze lingers on Hunter, captivated by the droplets cascading from his tousled hair, now freed from his bandana. You trace the lines of his tattoo down over his broad chest as they disappear beneath the surface of the dark water. Despite your best efforts to remain discreet, you find yourself locked in a momentary exchange of gazes with Crosshair, his piercing eyes betraying a knowing awareness.

Your breath catches in your throat as Crosshair maintains his gaze, his lips curling into a sly grin. Wrecker interjects, attempting to diffuse the tension. "Cut it out, Crosshair. You're making her uncomfortable. We promised not to look," he scolds, casting a wary glance in your direction.

“You did” Crosshair hisses at Wrecker before turning his attention back to you, his tone teasing. "Like what you see, Mini?" he quips, his confidence evident, that smug bastard you think to yourself and attempt to muster a confident response in return, but the slight tremor in your voice is betraying you. "Nothing I haven't seen while patching you all up," you retort, hoping to deflect his attention.

“Sure” he groans with a mischievous glint in his eyes but thankfully, he decides to let the matter drop, and you exhale a silent sigh of relief, sinking deeper into the warm embrace of the water, trying to hide your reddened cheeks. Casting a fleeting glance skyward, you marvel at the sight of two moons ascending over the horizon, casting a serene silvery blue glow over the landscape.

Before long, Tech emerges from the water, signaling for the group to prepare to depart. You, however, are reluctant to leave the comforting embrace of the hot springs just yet.

"Already? Can't we stay a bit longer?" you plead, attempting to negotiate for more time.

"It was ample time to get clean," Tech responds, his tone firm. "And we have another full day of repairs before we can leave this planet. You need at least seven standard hours of sleep to—"

You cut him off, feeling frustration bubbling up. "Stop it, Tech," you interject firmly, your disappointment evident.

"I'm only concerned for your well-being," Tech counters, his concern genuine.

"I know, I'm sorry," you answer, softening your tone. "I didn't mean to sound so annoyed. It's just... I can't remember the last time we had something like this. I'd like to soak in the warm water a bit longer. My whole body is sore from our crash, and this feels so good," you explain, hoping to convey your genuine need for relaxation.

Tech hesitates. “I understand, but it’s too dangerous to leave you here alone, besides the way back to the Marauder is …”.

"It's okay, Tech. You go. I'll stay here with her," a voice rings through the thick steam from behind you.

Hunter.

Your heart skips a beat at his unexpected offer, a rush of warmth flooding through you at the thought of him and you being here alone.

It takes a moment for the rest of them to processes his proposition. Finally, Tech breaks the silence "That is an acceptable solution," he states, his usual pragmatic tone cutting through the night.

Relieved you allow yourself to sink back into the soothing warmth of the hot springs, the steam enveloping you like a comforting embrace. In the background, you hear the others bustling about, dressing and gathering their belongings. Amidst the activity, you catch snatches of conversation and you could swear you heard Wrecker grumbling that he also wants to stay, interrupted by a sharp retort from Crosshair.

"Alright," Tech announces, drawing your attention. "We're heading back. I'll leave the comm open in case of unforeseen events. Regardless, please remember it is not recommended to stay longer than two standard hours in water with this temperature" and with that, the group begins their trek back to the Marauder, leaving you and Hunter alone in the quiet of the night.

As the sounds of their footsteps fade into the distance, a slightly uncomfortable silence descends, punctuated only by the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze. It’s not the first time you’re alone with Hunter, but THIS, this is different and you are trying to control your heartbeat knowing very well that he can pick that up with his heightened senses.

“Thank you for staying with me Hunter” you whisper through the thick steam wafting over the pool. The thought of him naked in the water, just a few steps away from you sends a shiver through your whole body and you feel the heat pooling between your legs.

Stars, stay calm you try to control the visions overtaking you, flashes of his naked body and his hands all over you flickering through your mind.

You try to catch another glimpse at him past the billowing steam and through an opening you see him slowly treading through the water towards you, his eyes locking on yours, a look of concern on his face. The water reaches barely up to his lower stomach, exposing an ungodly amount of his luscious body, his caramel skin, toned chest and a tempting trail of hair running down his abdomen now illuminated by the silvery glow of the moons, you can’t break your gaze away but you are close to loosing control completely now.

“For someone happily relaxing in a hot bath your heart rate is concerningly high. Are you uncomfortable? Did you change your mind, do you want me to take you back to the Marauder?”

“No, I…I want to stay” is all you can stumble. Him being so concerned and caring is only adding fuel to the fire already burning inside you.

Hunter is right before you now, scanning your face for any signs of distress but the only thing he finds is your bright pink cheeks and dilated pupils.

He carefully brushes a loose strand of your hair from your face, his hand lingering a bit too long to go unnoticed.

“Is this because of me?” he whispers softly, a hint of trepidation in his voice. He lost count of how often he wanted to ask you this, when he felt your heart jump at his touch, when he sensed your eyes lingering on him, but he didn’t dare, knowing a no would destroy him. So he decided to remain oblivious instead of getting hurt. Until now.

You gaze up at him and there is no denying anymore, no hiding, so you nod, not able to voice what you feel for him. That you want him so badly.

And before you know whats happening his lips are on yours. His kiss is soft but quickly getting hungrier and messier. He pulls you closer to him sliding one arm around your waist and you intuitively wrap your legs around him feeling his already hardening cock pressing against your core.

He gasps at the sensation of you grinding your hips against him and breaks away from the kiss, looking deep into your eyes.

“Tell me you want this," Hunter's voice is a low, urgent whisper, his breath hot against your skin. "Tell me you want me."

You lean back in to kiss him, desperate for his lips on yours and hungry for more but he breaks away again, searching your face for an answer.

“I’m your Sarge, I don’t want to take advantage of you, I need to hear you say it. Say you want me and I’ll give you everything.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you meet his intense gaze. "I do, Hunter," you reply without hesitation, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want nothing more than you."

Before you can even finish your words, he pulls you closer again, his arms wrapping around you possessively. The warmth of his embrace fueling your hunger for him and when his lips crash against yours in another searing kiss, you melt into him completely, his tongue trailing along your lips pleating for access.

Your tongues entwine and Hunter's touch feeds the fire within you, every caress sending sparks of heat coursing through your veins. You feel his hands hungrily roaming over your body, down your chest, gently cupping your breasts, leaving a trail of longing wherever they touch you.

His hands slide down to your hips, one hand cupping your ass, pulling you closer as his lips trail down your neck, leaving a line of open mouthes kisses and soft bites in their wake. With each movement, you feel yourself melting into him, your body craving more of his touch and your pussy aching desperately for his attention.

"Stars, you feel amazing," Hunter murmurs against your skin, his voice husky with desire. "I've been wanting this for so long."

A soft moan escapes your lips at his words, the sound mingling with the gentle lapping of the water around you. You feel his fingers trailing down to your throbbing core and you can't help but arch into his touch, desperately yearning for more.

He carefully slides his fingers between your slick folds, teasing your clit with a slow gentle rhythm that leaves you gasping for breath. Each stroke sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, quickly building a tension that threatens to unravel you completely in his arms.

He keeps you steady, his strong arms easily holding you up, the water flowing around you, fingers trailing through your slit and finally with a slow, deliberate motion, he slides one finger inside you, giving you a taste of what you so desperately want. You gasp at the sensation of him entering you and arch into his hand, aching for more friction.

"Stars, you're so wet for me," Hunter whispers, his voice low and breathless.

You can't help but beg for more, craving the sensation of him deep inside you, filling you up completely. And as he picks up the pace and slides in another finger, you feel your body tightening, getting ready to explode with pleasure.

"Kriff, I love how responsive you are to my touch." he whispers in your ear, nibbling on your neck.

You let out a few lewd moans and gasps at his words, the sensation of his fingers driving you completely crazy. With each thrust, you feel yourself spiraling closer and closer to the edge, the pleasure becoming almost unbearable in its intensity. The tension in your core almost reaching it’s snapping point, two fingers pushing inside you and his thumb rubbing your clit.

And then, with a flick of his wrist, Hunter finds that perfect spot that sends you hurtling over the edge, your body convulsing with the force of your release. Waves of ecstasy wash over you, rippling through your whole body, leaving you trembling in the wake of your orgasm as you cling to him for support.

“Stars, do you know how beautiful you look cuming all over my fingers?” he moans against your skin, looking at you as if you’re the most precious thing in the galaxy.

He slowly slides his fingers out of you to steady you against his chest while you catch your breath. You let out a low whine when he slips out of your core, leaving you feeling empty, and immediately desperate for more. You fumble around trying to reach his cock but he firmly holds you up, both hands under your thighs, his face buried between your breasts.

“Hungry, are we?” he grins up at you, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth and sliding his fingers over your wet folds aching to be stretched again, drawing a couple of lewd sounds from you.

You tilt your head back when he captures your other nipple between his teeth and finally pulls you closer until you're straddling him in the water, your bodies pressed together in a heated embrace. You feel the pressure of his rock hard cock straining against your core, fueling your hunger for him even more.

"I need you," you whisper, your voice barely above a breathless moan, impatiently wiggling around in his arms to line him up at your entrance. When he carefully bites down on your neck, leaving a mark, while squeezing your breast with one hand, you are completely loosing any kind of self control, you might as well just beg.

"Hunter, kriff…please…fuck me"

He looks up finding your gaze and without a word, he guides himself inside you with a single deep thrust, his huge cock stretching you in all the right ways as he fills you completely. You gasp at the sensation of your pussy stretching around him, your body arching into his as he begins to move, each thrust giving you more of what you’ve been longing for ever since you joined the squad. He starts slowly, not far from teasing you, pulling out almost completely a few times, until only his tip rest inside you and then slamming back in until he is buried to the hilt.

The water around you amplifies every sensation, the gentle rocking motion only adding to the intensity of his thrusts. He increases his pace and with each push of his hips against yours, you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak, your pussy already clenching around him.

“Fuck, not gonna last long like this” he groans “ …y..you feel too good around my cock…so tight…been dreaming about this too often…”

"I'm close," you whimper, your voice barely above a desperate plea. "Please, Hunter, don't stop."

With a low growl against your neck, he increases the intensity, each thrust pushing you further towards the brink of oblivion. You cling to him, nails digging into his back, grinding your hips against his, to take him as deep as possible until you feel the tip of his cock deliciously pressing against your cervix with every thrust. You wrap your arms around his neck your fingers finding hold in his hair, as you begin shaking, and with a shuddering gasp, you feel the tension in you snap and the first wave of pleasure crashing over you with an intensity you haven’t felt before, stars exploding before your eyes, your whole body trembling as you ride out the waves of your orgasm on his cock without slowing down.

He keeps fucking you through your high, drawing more moans and gasps from you until you feel him tense too, his length pressing even harder against your walls.

“Where do you want me?” he gasps.

“Inside” is all you can get out with a loud moan, your pussy still clenching around his cock and you feel Hunter's own release echoing yours, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm. With a final thrust, he spills himself inside you, filling you to the brim with his warm cum as you both ride out the waves of pleasure ripping through you together.

You cling to each other, panting, your bodies pressed together in a sweet embrace as you bask in the afterglow of your lovemaking. You let your fingers trail through his hair and softly trace the lines of his tattoo looking at him in awe, completely blissed out. He let’s his forehead rest against yours and you are exchanging soft loving kisses when you suddenly hear your comms crackle from somewhere beside the pool.

“Hunter are you listening… Hunter…Mini… “

“noooo Tech…leave them” you hear clattering and a voice in the background

“Hunter do you hear me? Even though Crosshair suggested you are not solely bathing but possibly engaging in intercourse I recommend you get out of the water. The time you spent there is unacceptable and will negatively affect your blood circulation. Mini… I’m sure you know that, you’re the medic. Do you hear me? It’s clearly been too long. Get out of ther…” the comm crackles again, weird noises and mumbling in the background until you hear Crosshair.

“Sorry for the interruption Sarge, I couldn’t stop him, just give us a sign when you’re headed back” and with that the comm falls silent again.

You can’t help but blush, feeling a bit exposed before the whole squad not even knowing where this is going or if it was just a one time thing. You desperately hope it’s not, when you said you want him, you meant it but you’re to afraid to ask how he is feeling, so you just revel in the heat radiating from his body drinking up every scent, every detail while it lasts, legs still wrapped around his waist, holding him close, fingers trailing trough his hair. Hunter nestles his head in your neck, pulling you even closer to his chest, leaving a few soft kisses along the way while his softening cock is slowly slipping out of you.

“Let’s get back to the Marauder then” he murmurs against your skin, “at least it seems they already suspect whats going on and appear to be ok with us being together…sleep in my bunk tonight?”

Your heart beams at his question, pounding in your chest.

“Guess that’s a yes” he chuckles, giving you one last loving kiss before he sets you on the edge of the pool to get ready for heading back to the ship.

#the bad batch #star wars #tbb #tbb hunter #hunter x reader #hunter x you #smut #tbb fanfiction #tbb smut #hunter bad batch #I’m completely normal about him #why did they make him hot

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qvnthesia · 1 month

Text

in action. (a tbb hunter one-shot)

a hunter/jedi!reader (afab) fic.

the pitch: seeing hunter in action inspired a different flame in you, one that you wanted everything to do with.

a/n: okay look — i know i know i was supposed to update my tvd fic but IT’S HUNTER COME ON this man has captivated my heart my soul my body my legs—*ahem* anyways, i hope you enjoy this fic! dedicated to @/xajnie on tbbtwt, thank you for fuelling the hunter admiration <33 i’ve had to change the plot 4 times — FOUR TIMES (fuck writer's block) — so, once again, i hope you enjoy this fic!

word count: 1, 426

theme/warning: fluff, and references to smut. implied enemies to lovers dynamic. reader is an adrenaline junkie <33 (yes i’m projecting yes i’ve become a whore for this man yes i’m not ashamed) — putting an 18+ warning just to be on the safe side 💗

You were staring.

Here’s the thing—Jedi weren't supposed to stare like that. They were supposed to observe, analyse their environments and maintain peace and harmony accordingly.

Granted, you had spectacularly failed at that mindful endeavour when you had stormed through the Zygerrian stronghold. You cut through hordes of clankers with a brazen and bold strut, freed civilians fleeing behind you for cover as you advanced forward. You supposed your lightsaber would have yielded some ‘yielding’ results from the enemy, but your master’s warning about your thrill-seeking tendencies rang in your brain, and you were too late. Now enslaved to the cruel species, you didn't have much of a leeway, much to your amused chagrin, with a shock collar saddled around your neck, sharp electric cords having forced you on your knees with your bound wrists lying between your legs.

Now, however, you weren't regretting being bound at all.

There was a reason the clones had more advantages than the Separatists. They were men, they were alive, they were people who had thoughts and dreams of their own. Every trooper you had been graced with the privilege of serving alongside with had their own quirks, distinguished by their own art, moral and valour.

The sargeant was more.

As the de-facto commanding officer of the Bad Batch, Hunter had had his initial doubts about you. He was a man who wasn't used to deferring his leadership, especially not to someone who had gone from Captain to Commander to General within a span of months. But you were a Jedi, and he never voiced his doubts even though you could still feel the bitter edges of his annoyance and his purposefully positioned distance reduced to nothing but professionalism and workplace discipline.

You thought that being a Jedi, you’d stick to the military civility and get the job done.

But the Sargeant made it hard to be a stickler for the rules.

You centered yourself in the Force, ignoring the deep tug from your pulsing womanhood as Hunter battled a horde of Zygerrian slavers, hand-to-hand.

This wasn't the first time you’d watched him fight. Sure, he fought for the good of the Republic, but you’d be lying if you said watching him kick ass wasn't a scrumptious treat for your sore eyes.

Aside from the clankers begging for mercy, he spared none as he sank his knife into the droids. His pauldrons strained against his biceps as he wrapped his arms around the commando ones until their circuitry sparked and fizzled into haphazard disassembly. There were moments where it was just comfortable silence, you working on your lightsaber again while he kept twirling his knife until he sheathed it under his forearms and got up to receive the latest mission briefing. Your veins always swam with his every move, your gaze drinking every smug tug of his chapped lips as he gave a two-fingered salute and decimated battalions, his fingers curling in the exact way you’d imagined him inside you.

It was as if the war suddenly ceased to matter, your Code rendered obsolete within a span of seconds as he brgan filling your thoughts. His breath mixing with yours, fingers tangled in his hair, all resistance forgotten, his skin on yours, bodies joined, his light inside you, rendering you delirious and needy with pleasure. His smoky voice filling your ears with the filthiest of murmurs as he claimed every inch of you, gazing down upon you with a dark, heavy-lidded stare that he’d directed at you whenever he disagreed with you and your near-suicidal yet successful strategies.

You’d committed his every move to your memory. It wasn't hard to forget, being sensitive to everything down to the molecules around.

It was then you sensed it, panic flooding your limbs as a yellow whip cracked the air.

“HUNTER—”

Your warning died, lips parting in sharp, rippling surprise as the whip curled around Hunter’s arm. The electricity travelled up his body, and you struggled against the bonds, being hit with electricity tailored to make you kneel.

That’s when you heard it. A low growl. The strangled primal voice ripping out of Hunter’s throat as he stood up on his two feet. Your mind practically exploded as you stared openly, mental shields frayed from something between pain and admiration, the kind inspired by a promise of the forever you’d sworn not to chase.

Gripping the blazing whip, Hunter yanked the Zygerrian man towards him, stopping an imminent collision as he bent the slaver’s wrists with a painful wrench and delivered a sharp kick to his chest, careening the scum across the dark bridge of the facility until his body collided with the console and fell to the floor with a useless crumple.

You let out an exhale, relieved. Your legs were trembling from the exertion employed from resisting being beaten into submission. But you stood up on your two feet, shaky.

“Right on time, huh?”

You met his helmet, stark, and sighed again.

“Okay, I know you're mad and yes, I should’ve take the offer for backup—”

You’re cut off as his helmet hits the ground with a thud and he makes straight for you. Before you can say anything, his fingers rip off the collar your neck and undo your restraints.

“Hunter—”

Your confusion muffles into shock as he pulls you towards him and brings your lips into his.

Your heart nearly explodes, its pace picking up as your eyelids instantly droop shut, your palms pressing his chest plate, arms snaking around his neck until your fingers threaded through his dark locks. His fingers grip under your thigh, feet shuffling until he pins you against a wall, his solid body trapping yours under his heat. His mouth slants over yours, and he groans into the kiss as your tongue meets the hot wet of his mouth. Your back digs against his hands as they roamed across the expanse of your robes.

He was so close to you, so unbearably far away with the layers between as you snaked one leg around his waist and his length pressed against you. You arched your back at the contact, flames igniting up your body as you grinded against him, the lines between need and want blurring so intensely between your desires to be one with him and have him stay just like this.

His hands cupped your face and he flinched. Your brows stitched together as he drew back, hurt tautly woven on your face.

Hunter probably sensed your emotions, he always did, always on the lookout for something different, something hopefully not life-threatening. He simply held out a hand now coated with your blood. His eyes roved over to the bleeding gash from the side of your face, and he let out a weary sigh.

“When will you start listening to me?”

“Now where’s the fun in that, Sarge?” you grinned.

“Tsk,” his other hand traced the edge of your jaw until his thumb pressed your lower lip. “Don’t tempt me.”

Your grin grew wider and you let out a breathy laugh, your tongue flicking out to give his thumb a lick. A thrilling shiver ran down your spine, your mind hazy with your victory, once his intense brown-grey eyes refocused on you.

“Call it a favour, Hunter.”

He hummed, “What if I don't see it as a favour, Mesh’la?”

Your smile melted, the fire in your blown-out eyes sparking brighter, your gaze flickering between wonder at the use of that endearing term.

A handful of seconds passed between the two of you, and a smirk tugged at his lips.

Your scent had been on him the entire campaign, driving him into absolute overdrive everytime he watched you cut down enemies with your saber and decimate battalions as if you were cutting through butter and not fighting an intergalactic war. But today, he’d had trouble fighting against those slavers with the thoughts that were running in your head and driving him wild. He’d felt the weight of your gaze on his soul, the curiosity turning into animosity masking your passionate frenzy. And he would be a fucking fool if he didn’t admit not a day went by where he hadn’t thought of doing things to you that turned your bratty self into a whimpering, moaning mess all over him.

He noted your evidently aroused state, the warm blood rushing beneath your skin, and the wetness pooling your trousers.

This was going to take a while, and Hunter wasn't going to waste a single second of finally getting to have some action with you.

thank you so so much for reading! please do point out any grammatical mistakes if there are any. this is the first time i'm writing for hunter so i hope you enjoyed this fic!

if you'd like to be added to the hunter tag list (since i do have a shit ton of fics planned—this man has a chokehold on me as bad as hayden does), drop a comment below! reviews are extremely appreciated 💗✨

this fic has NOT been cross-posted to my ao3. any/all forms of plagiarism will not be tolerated.

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stellarbit · 2 months

Text

Beg For It

1.6k words. Warnings - NSFW my guys. Heavy heavy petting and voyeurism.

Hunter had a hard time keeping his eyes off of you. Finding you tangled up with Tech was no exception and Tech was not having it.

I don't know what's wrong with me, but man oh man does a simpy Hunter do it for me. I'll die on the hill that Tech is the most confident of his brothers. Enjoyyyy

Being the oldest brother, Hunter learned early in his life that possessiveness was not a trait he could have. What was his was his brothers and he didn’t mind it that way. It was best for the squad and, if he had to be completely honest, seeing his brothers safe and taken care of was worth more than keeping something for himself. It was part of what made him such a good leader.

Hunter put his squad’s safety and happiness before himself.

Then you came along.

When you joined the Bad Batch, Hunter found himself unable to look away, although his helmet hid his gaze. There was something about you—the way you moved, laughed, and fought alongside him and his brothers—that drew him in more than he expected.

The first time he came in contact with you almost got him shot in combat. Blaster fire was coming your way when he tackled you out of the way. Pinned underneath him and heaving so hard your chest pressed into him with each breath, your scent filled his helmet. He shook his head in an ill attempt to clear his senses.

His hand, moving on its own, was headed for the curve of your waist when an explosion rocked the ground. It snapped him back to reality and he heaved the both of you to better cover.

There was a moment when he had to step in to stop you from going after Crosshair. You were so focused on reaching Crosshair that you ended up wrapping yourself around Hunter, your face pressed against his shoulder, one arm draped over him, and a leg trying to find leverage past him.

Hunter seized the opportunity to press closer to you and place his hands on your waist. He resisted the urge to explore further, even though your neck was just inches from his mouth. It took all his willpower not to turn his head and taste your skin.

For Hunter, this was a new sensation—not just smelling your scent but feeling it envelop him. Watching you fight stirred something deep within him. Being this close to you was enough to make him tense with desire. One night, catching you in a vulnerable moment in your cot nearly undid him. It was late on the Marauder, and you thought you were concealed by the dark. But Hunter could hear you, see you, and even smell you. Had his brothers not been around, he might have given in to his impulses right there.

The scent of your pheromones overwhelmed him, intensifying his reaction as your hips moved rhythmically against your hand. From his own cot, Hunter found himself grinding into his bed in sync with your movements, with a deep ache building within him. He clutched at his sheets, grounding himself, nearly tearing them in his effort to stay silent.

When your breath hitched, a new scent filled the air, pushing him to the brink. A shudder ran through him, and he had to fight back a groan as he went over the edge of release.

He often wondered what it might be like to catch you at just the right moment, but a different reality snapped him back before any scenario could play out.

You and Tech had been assigned to prepare the ship for takeoff, while Hunter and Crosshair were off meeting with a Jedi General. Needing to retrieve a datastick with vital intel, Hunter found himself hurrying back to the Marauder. As he reached the bottom of the ship’s steps, your moans reached his ears.

To anyone else, they might have been silent, but to Hunter, they were as clear as if you were standing right beside him. He ascended the steps quietly, taking two at a time, and positioned himself close enough to hear without being seen. The sound of your panting and the rustling of fabric were unmistakable, but there was another layer—an additional presence. His eyes widened as he realized you weren’t alone.

Hunter moved up the steps quietly and peered around the corner, his eyes adjusting to the dim light. At first, he saw movement against the wall, obscured behind a chair. Tech’s back was to him, seemingly engrossed in the ship’s systems. But as Hunter watched for a moment longer, he realized the true nature of Tech's engagement. His hands were busy, indeed, but not with the ship.

Unlike his brother, Tech was territorial and a bit possessive about things he invested in and that kept his attention. He took pride in maintaining control over his interests and was selective about who he allowed access, if he allowed it at all.

One of the things he didn’t intend on sharing was you. You were an unshared discovery he took every opportunity to explore.

The reality of sharing the majority of his life with a squadron of brothers meant he rarely had anything truly his own. Some things he had more ownership of, at least in responsibility alone, as was the case with the Marauder.

You, however, gave him something entirely his own. The sounds you made, the freckles typically hidden under your clothes, the taste of your tongue - these were experiences reserved for him, moments that he treasured as solely his.

He stood behind you, your hands braced on a control panel, one of his own hands working into your pants while the other snaked around your waist and pulled you tight against him.

“Careful,” He said into your ear. “If your voice becomes too loud, we risk being discovered.”

His voice in your ear had you arching into him. It sent heat through you and made it even more difficult to concentrate on controlling the sounds of your pleasure.

Tech learned very quickly how and where to touch you. The confidence his ability to draw out such noises brought him far overshadowed any brought on by his ability to decode encryptions.

“You’re…” You struggled to speak through a groan, “Not being fair.” You started bending at the hip to push back into him.

Before you gained the upper hand, Tech pulled you back by your arm and straight into his lap as he sat you both back into a chair. His hand remained in your pants, your wetness spreading further as his fingers worked on you, while his free hand slid into your tunic and over your breast.

“If you’d prefer,” The touch between your legs stilled and he swiveled the two of you in a different direction. He gave your nipple a pinch. “We can return to our assigned tasks.”

You pressed his hand back into you. “You’re cruel.” You purred.

His chuckle reverberated into your torso. “I prefer to think of it as strategic teasing,” he whispered. “Ensuring you’re always wanting more keeps things… interesting, wouldn’t you say?” He continued tracing shapes over your most sensitive parts, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

Your head was tilted in just a way he could easily kiss the spot just beneath your ear. That always elicited the most delicious response from you. He made to do so when he suddenly caught sight of a tattooed face looking right at you two.

Hunter was watching and, Tech assumed, he’d been doing so from the start.

Tech imagined what Hunter could see. You fully draped back against him, legs spread wide as you straddled his thigh. His hands were still entangled in your clothes, one exposing your breast and the other hooked inside of you. With how worked up you were, a string of your fluids may very well have followed his fingers if he removed them.

Tech and Hunter locked eyes while you remained blissfully unaware. Tech glanced down over your body, confirming exactly what he feared Hunter could see. When he saw Hunter drag his gaze down your body, a muscle feathered in Tech’s jaw.

He was sufficiently annoyed. This sight was meant for him and him alone.

Your head started to face forward, but the hand Tech had in your tunic moved to grip your jaw and pull your face back against him. He was not going to allow Hunter to see the face you were about to make.

You let out a low moan, Tech’s name humming through it, and he pressed his mouth to your cheek.

He spoke with his lips against your skin, "It seems you're quite eager for release.” You whined in response, affirming what he already knew. Tech was still watching his brother devour the sight of you two. “Well then, if you really want it,” he made sure his voice carried more than loud enough for Hunter to hear, “you’ll need to beg for it. Really beg. Let’s hear how much you want it.”

You conceded immediately and with that Tech gave the bundle of nerves at his fingertips a light pinch. He’d never done so before, but it sent a shock through you so intense you couldn’t hold back a loud moan.

You spasmed into his touch, writhing against him as he slid his tongue to that sensitive spot at your ear. “Good girl.” He said, praising you.

All the while Tech trained his eyes on his brother. Hunter’s nose flared and, for a moment, Tech thought he might reveal himself. Instead, Hunter looked over you once more, eyes soaking in all the bits of you he'd been imagining for months.

Hunter’s eyes, unreadable and wild, snapped back to Tech, who wore a small smug smile, before retreating out of sight.

Tech was proud of what he’d accomplished and satisfied with the show you’d put on for his brother. If he was correct, Hunter would be keeping a satisfactory distance.

Tech released you, letting you collapse into his arm. As he suspected, when he removed his hand a string of you hung between his fingers. Touching his fingers together, he took note of how much you’d produced this time.

“What a delightful body you have.” Tech said. He would definitely be trying that technique again. "We'll need to replicate this again soon."

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dragonrider9905 · 2 months

Text

Infectious Love

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Perhaps, perhaps it was time to open your heart?

“So have you reconsidered staying?”

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

“Is that all you are? Soldiers?”

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, she misses him, the poor kid.”

Sheaving his knife, he turned to you.

“So, what can I help you with?”

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

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

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

He chuckled and cut into the fruit.

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

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

“So.” He prompted you.

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

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

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

He huffed a little.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your hollow laugh filled the cabin.

He knew he messed up.

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

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

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

Kriff. He had to fix this.

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

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

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

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

He was lost.

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

A lost love.

And it was his fault.

Though you were strong, you weren’t invincible.

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

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

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

He saw it. And he caused it.

And he hated himself for it.

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

Turns out he was wrong.

You did return his feelings and he broke you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taken from him in a cruel twist of fate.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was ‘that’ look.

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

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

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

You squeezed his hand.

“We’ll find her. I promise.”

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

He squeezed your hands.

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

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

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

“We need to talk.”

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

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

“Please.”

You nodded, but then looked away again.

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

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

You nodded. “Tomorrow.”

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

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

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

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

Taking a look around, you carefully considered.

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

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

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

“Keep her safe. I’ll be right back.”

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

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

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

Wrecker looked nervous. “Not back yet.”

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

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

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

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

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

You softened and patted his shoulder comfortingly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll do my best.”

With one last nod to Wrecker, you set out.

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

It was time to bring Hunter home.

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

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

He was prepared for anything.

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

Your voice.

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

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

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

“Meshla, no!”

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

“Hunter!” You screamed after him in terror.

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

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

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

Your painful cry.

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

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

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

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

And your blade found a home in his heart.

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

Hunter!

Diving for the cliff, you slid toward the edge.

“Hunter? Hunter!”

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

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

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

“Mesh’la…”

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

“Alright.” He tightened his grip.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re bleeding!”

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

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

“You’re losing so much blood.”

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

“Not funny.”

“I thought it was.” you faintly chuckled.

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

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

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

Scooping you up, Hunter started at a full run.

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

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

Hunter came in running.

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

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

Back in the cockpit, Wrecker took the controls.

Placing you in his bed, Hunter slapped your face.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were standing.

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

Oh well, you could only push forward.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“‘M sry.”

Kriff, you could barely speak.

“Don’t be sorry. I got you now.”

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

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

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

You had an infection.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stay, I’ll get it.”

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

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

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

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

“It’s not your fault, Wreck.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Swallowing hard, Hunter nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

Silence was your response.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hunter fished them out and gave them to her.

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

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

“But she needs a doctor NOW!”

The nurse glanced up annoyed.

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

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

You blinked your eyes open with a smile.

“Hey Handsome.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was Nala, your old classmate.

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

“Yes…” her eyes drifted down to you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hunter injected the hypo into your arm.

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

He rubbed your arm and inserted the needle.

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

This one, he couldn’t do.

“This…is going to hurt.”

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

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

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

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

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

Shutting your own, you tried to center yourself.

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

“Of course, would you expect anything less?”

Another chuckle turned into a gasp of air.

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

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

You smiled through gritted teeth.

“Yeah?”

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

You swallowed hard.

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

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

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

Your eyes rolled back and all went dark.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you.”

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

“I love you, too. So much.”

“Can…we talk? I can't wait anymore.”

“Of course.”

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

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

He paused briefly before continuing.

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

“Hunter! No! You—”

He gave you a sheepish look and cut you off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hunter's face darkened.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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starjedi86 · 3 months

Text

Taking care of you

Summary: Hunter blames himself for not being able to protect you.

Pairing: Hunter x female reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 965

Authors Note: In honor of season 3 airing today, here’s my first fic for the bad batch. I hope you enjoy it!

The air in the small medical bay was heavy with tension as Hunter anxiously awaited news about you, his girlfriend and the mechanic of his squad. Each passing moment felt like an eternity, his mind consumed by guilt over the accident that had left you injured.

You and the rest of the members of Clone Force 99 were on a mission, as usual during the Clone Wars. However, this time, due to the lack of communication, the battle intensified, leading to your fall from a great height.

In the shock of the situation, you weren’t sure if your ankle was broken. During the rest of the battle, Hunter helped you and kept you safe. When it ended, you were in so much pain that Hunter thought it was best to return to Coruscant for a medical check with all the necessary equipment.

As the leader of his squad, he felt the weight of responsibility bearing down on him, blaming himself for not having protected you better.

He was lost in his thoughts when the medical staff informed him that you were awake and he could visit your room. Without hesitation he walked inside.

The door slid open, and there you were, lying in a bed with a reassuring smile. Despite the bandage wrapped around your ankle, your eyes sparkled with warmth as you met his gaze. “Hey,” you said softly, your voice carrying a hint of reassurance and warmth. You knew him so well that you already knew he was blaming himself, so you did your best to reassured him. “You don’t have to worry. I’ll be okay.”

Hunter’s shoulders dropped with relief at the sight of you, but the guilt still weighed on him. “I can’t help but feel responsible for this,” he confessed, his voice heavy with regret. “I should’ve been more careful, should have protected you better.”

But you shook your head, your expression softening with understanding. “Hey, accidents happen,” you reassured him, your tone gentle. “You can’t blame yourself for what happened. What matters is that we’re a team, and we look out for each other.“

Hunter’s heart swelled with gratitude at your words, he couldn’t help but love you even more. Despite the chaos of war, he knew that you were one of the few people who could comfort him and make him better. Stepping closer to your bed, he reached out to gently hold your hand and intertwine your fingers with his, his touch was gentle as if you were a delicate flower.

“Thank you, cyare,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “For everything.”

You smiled, squeezing his hand in return. “You don’t have to thank me love.“ you whispered back, your eyes filled with love towards him.

As you stayed there, Hunter couldn't resist any longer. He leaned in and pressed his lips against yours in a gentle kiss, pouring all of his love and affection into the gentle touch.

When you finally pulled away, your eyes met, filled with love for each other. "I won't let anything happen to you, cyare," Hunter promised, his voice filled with determination.

"I know," you replied, your voice filled with trust and love towards him.

You stayed there, chatting about various things as you waited to be discharged. When the doctors informed you that you were ready to leave, Hunter offered to take you to your apartment. The journey was quiet but relaxing after all the stress you both had.

Upon arriving at your apartment, Hunter gently guided you to your bed, propping your foot up on a pillow and ensuring your comfort before taking a seat beside you. You could see a mixture of concern and affection in his expression.

“Is there anything else you need? Pain medication, water, food, maybe a blanket?” he asked, his voice affectionate toward you.

You shook your head, managing a small smile on your lips. “I’m okay for now, love. I’m glad to be back home, at least for a couple of days.” you replied softly, grateful for his caring attitude.

Hunter nodded, but the worry still lingered in his eyes. “I’m just glad you’re safe, cyare” he admitted. “I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.”

Reaching out, you gentle grabbed his hand and caressed the back of it with your thumb. “I’m not going anywhere,” you reassured him, your touch offering a sense of calm. “We’ll get through this, honey, just like always.”

Hunter’s gaze softened at your words, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

You returned his smile, grateful to have him by your side. “Always together, remember?”

Feeling a wave of gratitude, love and affection toward you, Hunter leaned in, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace, being careful with your injured ankle. You didn’t hesitate to lean your head into his chest, feeling the soft sound of his heartbeat.

Pulling back slightly, Hunter looked at you, a soft smile curving around his lips. Without hesitation, he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before pulling you closer, relieved to have you by his side.

As you cuddled together, you intertwined your fingers with his, feeling his soft and gentle touch over your palm. “I’m lucky to have you.” you whispered, your voice filled with admiration toward him.

Hunter’s eyes softened at your words, a grateful smile spreading across his face. “And I’m lucky to have you,” he replied sincerely, his voice filled with warmth.

As you looked at each other, lost in the quiet intimacy of the moment, Hunter gently placed his forehead against yours. You’ll definitely always be there for him and he for you.

#the bad batch #tbb season 3 #tbb s3 #tbb #tbb hunter #tbb x reader #the clone wars #clone trooper hunter #tbb hunter x reader #hunter x reader #hunter x you #sargent hunter #tcw #star wars #star wars clone troopers #the bad batch x reader #bad batch #bad batch x reader #tbb hunter x you

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oceansssblue · 2 months

Note

Hunter not being able to have the time or place to relieve himself pls ☺️

One explicit&short sexy Hunter smut coming right up!

"TEN MINUTES OF PRIVACY"

TBB REQUESTS —HUNTER/F READER 📩🔥

WARNINGS: HUNTER BEING SEXY, HUNTER BEING CAUGHT ON THE ACT, HUNTER BEING KISSED AND TOUCHED.

Hunter was a responsible man. He had been taught to be like that; always taking care of his men, his squad. He worked towards his objectives with his brothers on his mind; always trying to secure their safety no matter how dangerous the situations they found themselves in were. Now, though... Now Hunter only wanted to take care of one thing; himself.

It felt like ages since he had had the time to relieve himself. They had been busy, that wasn't a doubt; first taking care of Tech's precarious health after Eriadu, then reuniting with Omega and Crosshair... And now even Echo was back on the Marauder. It was as crampt as it had ever been; and though Hunter loved his family with all his heart, he just wanted fifteen minutes of privacy for himself.

Those fifteen minutes of peace had been impossible to find. Every time he thought he finally had them, someone would return to the ship or comm him; and his free time would be tragically interrupted. On one time Tech had urgently asked for his help with some repairs; on another, Crosshair had found a reason to fight with a bunch of locals and –though Wrecker had assured him he had it under control– Hunter just had to intervene. On a third ocasion, Echo had asked his opinion on an alternative strategy for their next mission; and even Omega had been unusually affectionate lately, shadowing his every step as if she were afraid to get separated again.

His frustration only continued to grow when days kept passing by. It wasn't just because he wanted to; masturbating was more of a need, now. He felt tense and irritated, snapping at every minor thing. His headaches were only getting worse, nights without rest more common than not. It was only a matter of time before he bursted and said hurtful things; and he didn't want to hurt anyone.

Finally, luckily, his brothers seemed to catch on. It's Echo who suggests going out for a walk, and he manages to convince everyone with the promise of a pretty sunset on Pabu, pointing out that Hunter's migraines are only getting worse and he needs some silence and space to himself. They accept with various degrees of excitement; but they do, and they leave, and Hunter finds himself suddenly on his own.

He doesn't even bother to get fully naked; he doesn't have the patience. He sits on his bunk and tugs his pants down; already hard cock inmediately falling to rest on his stomach when freed. It's warm in the room, so he does take his shirt of and throws it carelessly somewhere on the floor. He doesn't waste any more time and sighs in relief, closing his hand around his cock. Privacy at least.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You hadn't met the boys until their fourth month on Pabu. Their arrival had been the talk of the island for quite some time; not only because rumours said they were a surprising set of clones, but because Pabu suddenly had five handsome elegible bachelors to pick from. Wrecker made you feel small and cute, his energy as radiant as the sun; Echo was the gentleman of any girl's dream. You'd never grow bored with Tech, he was an interesting person to chat with; and Crosshair was all quiet and mysterious, tempting you to find his secrets. Objectively, you could see all of this attributes in the Batch; you could understand the hype. Personally, though... Personally, Hunter had the 100% of your attention.

He was so handsome. Your eyes had inmediatelly locked onto his figure the first time you had had the chance to see him; this firm but kind soldier helping a blonde teenager –you later learned their sister was called Omega– practice what seemed to be defence moves in front of their ship. The second time you had seen Hunter had been one morning on the beach. You had woken up early to be able to swim through Pabu's clean waters without anyone else disturbing the sea's wildlife; diving goggles and swimming fins in hand. After a quiet relaxing swim in the sea, you had sat down in the sand for a bit; and your distracted gaze had followed Hunter's attractive figure in his morning run through the beach.

One thing you had learned about, was that Hunter was always aware of what was happening around him. Weeks later, he had explained to you it was part of his special set of abilities. His mutations. In that second meet up, you had been embarassedly shocked to be caught gawking at him; though it had quickly turned to a pleased shyness when fifteen minutes later Hunter had returned to the same spot to talk to you. He had first greeted you with a sexy little smile; asking to sit besides you if you didn't mind the smell of his built up sweat. He had made you feel comfortable and safe since that very first time; and all those that followed.

It's not that you have consciously started to date him or anything. Hell, you've never even kissed yet. It's just all casual meet ups that ends with the two of you having the best time together. You might be doing groceries and Hunter making his way to their apartment after their latest arrival; and so he will offer you to help with the bags, and you'll accept, and once everything is properly placed in your home, one of you would suggest having a walk together and catch up with your respectives lifes. It feels like a date, most of the times; but none are planned, adressed as such, and Hunter has so many suitors –and is so genuinely kind– you wonder if you're seing things that are not really there.

You've heard the Batch is back on Pabu after three whole weeks travelling the galaxy, though, and you had seen everyone but Hunter in the beach some minutes ago; you know it means he's staying back and resting in the Marauder. You want to see him, so –even though you don't really know if it's your place or not– you make your way down to their ship. You'll just say hi and leave him be.

The Marauder's ramp is still opened, so you jump up and enter the ship. The cockpit's empty; you guess Hunter's somewhere inside. You call him softly, not wanting to wake him up in case he's using the time to catch up on some sleep; but you receive no answer, so you continue walking through the corridor, innocently.

There's a low muttering coming from a room, so you redirect your steps there; and you come to a stop completely frozen in front of the opened door. H-Hunter... Hunter's lounging on one of the bunks, with the back of his head resting against the wall; eyes closed and face relaxed in upmost pleasure. Small words and what you now clearly identify as whimpers and moans escape his parted lips ocasionally; shirt abandoned to the floor and abdominal muscles twitching with each particular rush of pleasure, sweat dripping down his chest and shimmering on his tanned skin. His pants are just low enough so that he can have access at his cock; one hand firmly wrapped around it and stroking up and down while the other clenches on his thigh. And his cock... Fuck, it looks good, dripping precum and flushed almost red by now; Hunter must be reaching his end any minute now.

Hunter... Is a sin, and though your shock is big enough to erase any coherent word from your mind, you aren't made of stone; and your breathing pattern grows heavier with desire while your heart speeds up, and even lost in his own pleasure, Hunter hears that.

His eyes snap open, his face turning slightly to the left to take a glance at the door. Your eyes lock and Hunter gasps out loud, something that sounds like a mix of utter shock and pleasure yet; his hand reluctantly stopping and resting around the base of his cock. Hunter's wide eyes and redenning cheeks show his embarassment at being caught like this; but to your surprise, he doesn't run to pull his pants back up, or hide his raging boner. He just waits, perhaps deciding on what to say or do.

"Mesh'la..." he suddenly and almost hesitantly calls you by that nickname he had started to use for you a month back.

You don't know what it means, though when asking his brothers, Tech had pointed out it was in their language, Mando'a.

Hunter calling you reminds you that you're still staring; staring at Hunter and his half naked body, cock exposed, and invading a clearly very private moment you have no right to stand by.

"O-oh, I'm sorry, Hunter" you quickly blurt out, eyes flying down and focusing on a spot on the floor in front of your feet. "I just saw your family at the beach, thought I'd come and said hi, and then I heard a noise and... Uh... I didn't know... You were..."

You inevitably take a glance upwards, and to your shock, Hunter's cock twitches in his frozen hand and he lets out a small moan.

He doesn't look particularly bothered by your interruption. By the situation. It seems he's just more impatient to carry on, so maybe you should just turn around and leave and...

"Mesh'la... Touch me" he answers, voice deep sending tingles down your spine.

You can't help but stutter as you fix your eyes on his.

"S-s-sorry?" It's what comes out of your mouth, stunned.

You must have heard wrong. There's no chance he just asked that.

"Please" Hunter suddenly whines, words turning him into a bothered mess. "Please, mesh'la, been wanting to masturbate for so long, but it has been impossible here, and now that I finally had the space to do so I tried and I, I... I'm subsconsciously stressed they're going to come back and interrupt me any time now, and I can't also stop thinking about last mission and..."

You're still shocked looking at Hunter; though his words are starting to slowly sink in, and he reads it in your wide eyes. You're so close to him and...

"Please" he begs, quietly but desperately. "Please help me cum".

You need ten more seconds before you finally find the way to reboot your mind again and you're able to nod. Hunter whimpers in relief and inevitably strokes his cock up and down once; stopping afterwards and leaving both of his hands on ech respective thigh; widening them so you have plenty of space to comfortably work with him. You gulp your nervousness down and slowly approach him.

Hunter's dark gaze doesn't leave your eyes as you sink down on your knees between his legs impossibly slowly. Your eyes swipe down over his perfectly trained body, and his cock twitches again against his stomach. The sight makes you bite your lip in a mix of desire, nerves and shyness; and Hunter groans torturedly.

"Mesh'la..." he calls you again, needy, and you breathe in and glance up at his face before setting your resolve.

Your left hand caresses up Hunter's left thigh, thumb squeezing once on the dip between his pelvis and leg; while your right teases down Hunter's abs to finally close around his length. Hunter's impossibly hard. You start with your first movement up and down his cock; and Hunter moans.

"Y-yeah... Yeah, cyare, thank you, yes..." he stutters in half whimpers, half relieved moans, and you have to contain one of yours.

He looks so good like this, so needy, so lost. So desperate.

"You look hot as fuck, Hunter" you tell him, voice barely more than a whisper.

Hunter moans needily and his hips cant forward towards your hand.

"M-mesh'la... M-m sorry for springing this on you so suddenly, just... Just wanted to cum and... Wanted you for weeks too, mesh'la, so pretty, fuck..."

Okay. Okay. Breathe. Hunter's a talker during sex, the kind of person that just looses himself in it and talks his mind of, and that's perfectly fine. You aren't gonna pass out. You are going to cope with the fact that he's gonna ruin yourself for everyone else and help him out.

"It's okay, Hunter" you soothe him, right hand moving upwards and twisting gently towards the end, another tiny involuntary buckle of his hips following you. "Just breathe and relax. I got you, okay?"

Hunter sighs and slides lower on the bed, though still proped up. He closes his eyes momentarily before focusing on you again, then staring at your hand working him up.

It doesn't take too long for him to cum. He's obviously being holding himself back; and finally in a safe place, with you as an additional stimuli, his mind locks on the growing pleasure and his hard cock twitches when he reaches his orgasm. Part of it lands on his stomach; some stays on your hand, and the rest pools on his pelvic, dripping down to a slow. His chest moves up and down with his heavy breathing; his eyes closed shut and head tilted back, neck exposed, muscles showing. And his sounds are music to your ears; raspy, broken. Relieved.

When he opens his eyes again, and Hunter looks at you, he seems more like himself; like this desperate lost version has been pushed back again under the surface. You read shame and guiltiness mixed in his expresion; and smile to soothe him.

"Don't even bother with excuses" you chuckle, using his discarded shirt to clean your hand and passing it to him next. "You were enjoying your privacy and I surprised you, and neither of us did what we should have done, and here we are. We're just gonna move forward and you're gonna invite me to a date".

Hunter gives you a tiny happy smile. It quickly turns onto a smirk.

"Okay. Tomorrow afternoon, then. I'll be sure to take care of everything this time".

You know what that means, and you smirk too, though flushing slightly. Yes, please.

THE END.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taraa! Decided not to write it too long, hope you've liked it!

remind you that im still working in some other requests. I'm considering not writing every single one though, just those with whom I feel inspired... Dont want any of you to have a go at me though lol. Idk what I'll end up doing honestly, I might just write those with which I feel more inspired forst and then move down the line. We'll see!

Stay tunned for more,

XX,

Sky.

Back to my general masterlist here:

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arctrooper69 · 28 days

Text

As Iron Sharpens Iron

"As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another." Proverbs 27:17

Chapter 13:

Previous // Next

Warnings: Pheromones, sexually suggestive scenes (nothing explicit), major misunderstandings.

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

Hunter threw the essentials into his bag and secured his armor with a satisfying click as the magseal activated, locking the plates into place.

“Hey you,” a warm voice sounded from the hatch.

Hunter looked up to see Tara standing on the ramp, leaning against the hatchway with her hand on her hip. She smiled.

“Ketch and Bozo over there let it slip that you were going after your friend. Need an extra hand?”

Hunter grunted halfheartedly, “No, not really.”

“You sure?” she asked, smiling coyly, taking a step inside, “Because you look like you could use all the help you can get.”

He frowned, “I told you I’m fine. We don’t have time for this right now, Tara.”

She sighed, “Hunter, she ran away from you. You got into an argument and she left!”

“I know!” he growled.

Tara sighed, “Hunter look, do you really think you should be going after her?” she asked gently, “She needs time.”

Hunter shook his head. “I can’t,” he snapped, “She needs me. She could be in trouble!”

Tara smiled softly, folding her arms, “Hunter, trust me. You need to give her time. That’s how women work! She’s a perfectly capable adult. You know this. Just give her some time. You need to rest too, you know.”

Hunter sighed, She is capable. Am I overthinking? Too overprotective?

Omega had said that to him before. He supposed he did have a bit of an overprotective nature, but he chalked that up only as his role as the team’s Sergeant during the war.

A good leader protects his squad.

“Nothing good comes from rushing headlong into things, Hunter,” Tara continued, “You and I both know that.” She paused tentitively then spoke softly, “I care for you too much to let you just run in blind.”

“I’m not running in blind!”

“Oh yeah? What’s the plan then?”

“Get to the coordinates. Find her. Bring her home.”

Tara nodded, “Okay, then what?”

I don’t know. Tell her I love her? Tell her that I can’t live without her?

Hunter didn’t know what to say so he was silent.

“Hunter…” Tara began, taking another step forward, “I…”

Hunter growled, “What is it that you want me to say, Tara? That I don’t know what I’m doing!? I...”

He could feel his heart beat pounding. The air felt different. He'd never said it aloud before. His mouth felt dry, almost as if he said the words it would mean that his feelings were real and that he’d be forced to face them head-on.

“You don’t understand, Tara. I love - “

She stepped forward placing a hand on his arm - a smile speading across her face.

Hunter froze at the touch, quickly turning away. He could smell her - the sweat on her dark skin, the relaxant in her hair. The pheromones in her perfume. It seemed to grab ahold of his senses, begging him to face her - to give her his full attentions. He stilled, taking a breath to steady himself.

“Do you like that, Hunter?” She said softly, tapping the panel beside the ramp as the hatch hissed closed.

Hunter felt himself begin to sweat. The scent enveloped his senses - warm and sweet. Intoxicating. It slipped through the cracks on his armor, pooling in a heat below his skin. It felt so good - so easy to relax. He bit back a groan as her fingers skimmed the skin below his chin, lifting his face towards her own. He felt his codpiece tighten.

So good. You’re so good to me.

He closed his eyes and there you were - eyes lit up in wonder at seeing the purrgil dance around the ship in hyperspace. There you were - dragging him to cover in a firefight, eyes full of concern. There you were - holding a cup of caf out to him, eyes glittering in the dim cockpit lighting.

“There you go, Hunter.” Tara murmured, “Relax. I bought this for you. For us.”

He inhaled slowly, feeling lighter than he had felt in a long time.

“I knew you’d like it,” she whispered, “Can I touch you?”

Hunter moaned - the throbbing beneath his codpiece felt stronger than ever. He wanted this - your fingers, your voice.

So good. So right. So… not you.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

His eyes flew open - alarm bells blaring dizzily through his skull - the scent too thick. Too much.

Not you. Not you. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

He gasped and stumbled backwards. “Stop!” he panted, holding up a hand. “I don’t… What the kriff are you doing!?”

Tara stood up, tearing her hand from his chest, nearly falling as she stumbled backwards, hand forcefully slapping the bulkhead behind her until she hit the exit ramp and it hissed open.

“Oh my gods!” she gasped, hands flying to her face. “I thought… I thought you wanted this! I thought…” she sputtered horrified, “You said…you said… I thought…. Oh gods… I’m so sorry, Hunter!”

Tara backed down the ramp as Hunter stumbled into the open, gasping for air. He shook his head, guilt springing to the forefront of his mind, shame sprouted in his gut making him feel sick.

How could I have let this happen?

It was the essence of you, not Tara, that had blossomed up through that musky haze. It was your hands that had touched him, not hers.

Did I tell her that I wanted this? Did I inadvertently lead her on?

He looked up, seeing her stood frozen on the bottom of the ramp, eyes wide in embarrassment, heart beat still rapid in the aftermath of horror.

She shook her head.

How could I have been so stupid? The thought was written all over her face.

“It was never me, was it.” The words came as a quiet statement rather than a question.

Hunter stood up, gritting his teeth as he composed himself. “No, Tara. It wasn't.”

“You love her, don't you.”

Hunter paused.

Saying it aloud makes it real.

Saying it aloud would prove beyond a doubt that you belonged to him and he to you.

Tech's words echoed through his brain. “According to this, you are in fact, in love.”

He took a breath. “Yes. I do love her.”

Tara nodded and turned away, “Then you should probably tell her.”

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

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jedipoodoo · 3 months

Text

Bring Them Home (Sergeant Hunter x Reader)

Notes: SPOILERS FOR SEASON THREE EPISODE TWO: PATHS UNKNOWN. DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN THE SEASON THREE PREMIERE. Children, angsty Hunter Edit: STUPID TUNGLR POSTED THIS WHEN I MEANT TO SAVE IT SO PSA-- If you read this before 10pm EST on Feb 27, this one-shot is officially completed so please reread it again and enjoy it in its full glory.

gif by @dreamswithghosts

It had been months since you'd seen Hunter, so of course you and Phee were there when the Marauder touched down in the Archium. Wrecker waved to you both as the ramp lowered, beckoning to someone inside the ship.

Hunter said they were bringing someone with them, but you didn't expect the cadets-- the children --to look so bewildered when they stepped off the ship.

"They're so young," Shep said softly, and you wondered how round and baby-faced they must have been when they left Kamino, the only home they'd ever known.

The three cadets lingered on the steps of the ramp, looking around in earnest while Wrecker waited patiently.

"It smells like Kamino," the tallest said as you approached.

"Mox, did you see the ocean? D'you think they'll let us go swimming?"

"You can do whatever you want here!" Wrecker laughed encouragingly. He gave you his classic thump on the shoulders, and you smiled. It was the happiest you'd seen him since they lost Tech and Omega.

"Hi," You introduced yourself to the cadets, "What're your names?"

"I'm Deke. This is Mox, and that's Stak." The shortest of them stepped forward, while his brothers watched you warily.

"And I'm Phee Genoa, liberator of ancient wonders," Phee smiled warmly at them all.

"Welcome to Pabu," Shep said, "I'm the mayor here. We have a warm bed and fresh food for all of you."

"Thanks," Mox, the tallest, said softly. His arms were crossed over his chest, and Stak's hands fidgeted at his side.

"Wrecker, why don't you and Phee show them the island? I reckon they're as hungry as you."

Wrecker chuckled softly and nodded towards the ship, catching your drift. He beckoned for the kids to follow him. They seemed to trust a clone more than other humans, but that was understandable.

"Have you boys ever heard of Skara Nol?" you heard Phee asking them.

"What's that?" Deke asked.

"It's a big mountain, filled with lots of puzzles!" Wrecker said, waving his arms to demonstrate.

At that point, you'd stepped aboard. The warmth of the sun dissipated as you were enveloped in the Marauder's dim lighting. Hunter sat at the navicomputer to your right, half asleep and blanketed by a hazy blue glow.

"Those boys aren't the only ones who could use a home-cooked meal, you know." You said, putting more weight into your steps so he wouldn't be surprised by your approach.

"I assume you've brought some, then?" He said.

You rolled your eyes and took the canteen of gumbo from your bag.

"Only when you step away from the computer. It won't do you any good to spill it all over Tech's equipment now."

Hunter sighed, and set another diagnostic to run through the files.

"We've got another lead," He said, turning away from the computer. Your heart fluttered at the note of hope in his voice.

"The Intel from the Durands was too old, the kids were all that's left of that lab, but we scraped some data from one of the data banks. We think it could tell us where Hemlock took Omega."

You handed him the spoon, and Hunter tried to eat politely, but it soon gave way to his hunger as he shoveled spoonfuls into his mouth without waiting to chew.

"Careful, you'll make yourself sick," You warned him, "You've been eating too many rations. I'll have to send you off with some real food this time."

Hunter looked up at you, and you used your thumb to wipe some sauce from his chin, but you couldn't quite meet his eyes.

"You could always come with us. How's your leg doing?"

The only reason you hadn't gone with Hunter and Wrecker when they set out to find Omega was because your femur was broken in the same railcar crash that took Tech. Phee had promised to look out for you and keep you from getting too bored while they scoured the galaxy. Despite your protests, you knew that in your injured state, you couldn't be much help at all.

So you made yourself useful in Pabu. You sewed clothes to replace those lost in the tsunami, you looked after children while their parents rebuilt, you made your family's old gumbo recipe for those who were too tired to cook at the end of the day.

Those like Hunter.

"What about the kids? Deke, Mox and...Stak?"

Hunter nodded, "Shep said there were some families on Pabu who could take care of them for now, he even offered to take two of them into his own house."

"Oh," You said softly, "That's kind of him."

Setting the empty canteen to the side, Hunter squeezed one of your hands as it hung at your side.

"Everything alright, cyare?"

"Oh!" After so long without him, you forgot how well he knew you.

"I just...I was hoping we could take them in, take care of them."

Hunter's eyes softened, and finally stood. "I'll admit I thought about it myself, but..."

"Not while Omega's still captured," You finished for him, dropping his hand and folding your arms.

Hunter's thumb brushed against your cheek, begging for you to look at him.

"You remember that night on Ord Mantell, right?" He asked.

You pouted, bottom lip jutting out, "We spent a lot of nights on Ord Mantell." Too many, to be precise.

"You know the one I'm talking about," He cupped your face in both hands, and you looked up at the dark circles beneath his eyes.

And you did know the night he mentioned. It was a full moon, so you could actually see the moon high above all the neons and smoke from the city. Hunter had made you a promise then and there, and you made one to him too. Nothing like marriage, but something like it.

Biting your lip, you reached up to run your thumb over his crows' feet. His eyes closed, blissfully relaxed beneath your touch. You knew how much he needed to find her. He could never forgive himself if anything happened to you, to Wrecker, or any of the cadets they'd just saved.

"I meant what I said that night," He whispered, eyes glistening as his forehead rested against yours, "We'll have our own family some day, something Kamino and the Empire won't ever be able to take from us. We just have to wait a bit longer."

You sniffled just a bit, and buried your face in his chest. You wrapped your arms around his torso, and when he wrapped his arms around you he leaned more of his body weight on you than he usually did. He felt frail, delicate even, like too much pressure in one place would snap him in half.

Hunter needed you, and you needed him.

"I'm coming with you," You whispered. He sighed with relief.

"Let's bring her home."

#tbb spoilers #lizart writes #the bad batch spoilers #the bad batch season 3 #the bad batch season 3 spoilers #hunter x reader #hunter x you #sergeant hunter x reader #tbb hunter x reader

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soaringthroughthegalaxy · 7 months

Text

Family Planning

Life slows down once everyone is safely back on Pabu, and maybe now it’s time to start focusing on what you both want for the future.

Pairing: Hunter x f!reader

Word count: 2.6k

Rating: NSFW 18+ MINORS DNI!!

Warnings: breeding kink, very very brief and vague medical procedure (birth control removal), established relationship, pregnancy kink, dirty talk, pre-established safe word (always play safe, folks), oral (f!receiving), unprotected PiV, scent kink, light marking, bandana as bondage, light hair pulling, love and fluff, soft aftercare.

“I can put a replacement in immediately if you’d like?” The doctor asked, turning in his chair, ready to remove the expired birth control implant buried in your upper arm.

“Urm…” You paused, not entirely sure what you wanted to do. Honestly, you’d forgotten about the small plastic rod under your skin until Hunter had offhandedly commented that you smelt a little sweeter this cycle.

He sat beside you now, warm brown eyes sliding in your direction as the doctor waited for your answer. With nothing to do this afternoon, he’d offered to come with you to the appointment you’d made at Pabu’s only clinic. After four years at his side, having been assigned as the squad’s civilian handler at the start of the war, nothing was sacred anymore. Even more so after you’d fallen into bed together two years ago.

Two years of waking up next to each other, of stolen kisses and wandering hands, of knowing looks and being railed against the nearest surface. Two years of ‘I love you’ and ‘stay safe out there.’

During the war, the two of you had discussed a family late at night, tucked away in a bunk together, voices whisper soft and full of hope.

Now, life had slowed. After rescuing Crosshair, Omega, and Tech from Mount Tantiss, you’d slipped off the Empire’s radar and had settled down properly on the tropical island. You had a home and a routine, were on a first-name basis with the locals, and even snagged a teaching job at the school.

Eyes shifting to meet Hunter’s, you chew on the inside of your lip. Was now a good time? Would your baby be safe, or would the Empire come sniffing if they caught wind of a child of an enhanced clone?

“It’s your choice, cyar’ika.” He states, his mouth’s corners turning into a devastatingly handsome smile. “It’s your body.” He adds. You know his stance on having a family, Maker above you play into often when he’s buried deep inside you late at night, but this feels like a pivotal moment in your relationship.

Holding his gaze, you’re not quite sure what you’re searching for – but you can see so much in his eyes. All the trust and love he has for you, all the support. At first, it had been terrifying to have someone believe in you so much, but your self-worth and confidence flourished over the last four years.

He’d be an incredible father. You’d already seen it from his interactions with Omega, how the young girl pulled all those paternal traits out of him. He’d go to the ends of the galaxy to keep you and your baby safe, of that you were sure.

Contentment seeped through your body, a feeling of rightness settling in your gut. You wanted a family too, and you loved each other - had been to hell and back for each other. You shifted your attention to the waiting doctor. “Don’t bother replacing it.” You tell him, hearing Hunter inhale sharply, the armrest of his chair creaking as his grip tightened on it at your words.

The doctor gave you a knowing look as he swabbed a disinfectant pad over your upper arm. “Normally, I encourage my patients to use other contraception, but something tells me that advice would fall on deaf ears.”

You make a slight noise of agreement, glancing over at Hunter as the doctor quickly removes the small implant. Your eyes take in the way he’s watching the little piece of plastic being removed, his fingers flexing against the arms of the chair, his Adam’s apple bobbing as the implant is pulled free of your body. And then those dark eyes find yours and steal your breath.

It was the right decision.

He’s on you the moment you get home, not even giving you time to properly shut the front door. Rough hands grasp your body, lips finding yours for a passionate kiss – there’s no finesse to it; it’s needy and messy, noses bumping and tongues meeting.

Buttons are undone; his shirt hits the floor, and his shoes and pants follow. Strong hands cup your ass and lift you, lips still pressed desperately against yours as he carries you a few steps further into the house, laying you on the couch and following you down. Your kiss breaks long enough for him to pry your dress up and off, lips meeting again before the garment even has the chance to hit the floor. He’s back on you, using one hand to prop himself up above you.

“Fuck, cyar’ika.” Hunter’s voice is low and smoky as his mouth moves to your jawline, light kisses peppered across it before he works down your throat, nipping gently at your delicate skin. Your chest heaves with each breath, mind spinning as your hand’s card through his hair, nails dragging across his scalp, eliciting a small hiss of pleasure and pain from him.

A needy whine breaks free, your hips lifting as you desperately seek some friction. Hunter matches your actions, grinding his hard-on against your thigh as he reaches the juncture where your neck and shoulder meet. He bites down a little harder this time, your moan filling the air, pulling a growl from him as his tongue laves over the mark. The light sweetness to your scent is still there, but he knows it’ll only get stronger as the artificial hormones make their way out of your system. He can’t wait to bask in it.

Your bra is slung over the edge of the couch, hands cupping your breasts as Hunter’s mouth continues downwards, leaving a trail of kisses. Shivers skitter down your spine as he licks across the soft mounds, dragging the flat of his tongue across your rapidly hardening nipples. Drawing one into his mouth, he sucks, scraping his teeth gently across it. The pleasure makes you gasp, back arching as you chase the warmth of his mouth.

Forefinger and thumb tweak your other nipple, the double onslaught making you whimper. Hunter smiles against your breast, enjoying how easy it is to pull such delicious sounds from you. Downwards, he continues, scooting back a little on the couch to press more kisses across the softness of your stomach, yet he pauses for a second just below your belly button.

The actual reality of it slams into him. That damn implant is no longer in your arm, and while it might take a few cycles for your hormone levels to settle back into their natural state, his child could soon be growing here, nurtured by your beautiful body. He moans at the thought, hands moving to kneed gently at your belly.

Gazing down your body, you watch as the man you love laves attention to your stomach. You might’ve pulled away, self-consciousness flaring a little in the past, but you know why he’s doing it. You know the thoughts that are swirling through his mind. You reach down with one hand, fingers tangling in his hair, pushing his bandana off. You snag it with your free hand, sliding it down your wrist, knowing how much he loves seeing you wearing it.

It has the desired effect. Hunter catches the motion, groaning as the band of red fabric rests around your wrist, possessiveness flaring low in his gut and his hips flex, hard cock grinding against your leg again. Deft fingers pry your panties down, and he buries his face between your thighs moments later, turning his head to scatter kisses on your inner thighs. His stubble’s roughness contrasts with his tongue’s softness, and your hips buck in anticipation, desire building further inside you.

He presses forward, burying his face against your pussy as he inhales deeply, growling as your scent floods his nostrils. Tongue dragging through your soaked folds, his nose presses against your clit, and you grind against it, knowing how much he loves you riding his face. Fingers fan over your thighs to keep your legs open as he devours you, his tongue circling your entrance a few times before plunging in, pulling back a moment later to flick it over your clit, making you shudder. He repeats the action several times, driving you crazy with need.

Mouth finally staying on your clit, he presses two fingers into you, crooking them, rubbing your g-spot. The angle is perfect, and between his talented hands and hungry mouth, you’re done for. “Hunter!” You cry out his name, your release slamming into you. Your hips and thighs shake, your chest rising and falling rapidly as the pleasure sweeps you up, searing through your veins.

Smug satisfaction paints Hunter’s handsome face as he slows, lapping up your release before he takes his mouth off you, though he continues to lazily pump his fingers in and out of you, feeling the way you spasm around them as you come down from the high. “You have no idea how fucking badly I want to cum inside you.” He rasps, the smokiness of his voice amplified.

Catching your breath, you’re mesmerised by the intensity of his gaze. Biting down on your lower lip, a thrill runs through you. “I think you should show me.” You challenge.

His growl is feral, your pussy clenching at the sound. Fingers slide out of you as he reaches for your wrists, grasping them as he hauls your arms up, pinning them against the couch above your head. Quickly, he ties his bandana around them, a smirk tilting his lips.

Softness creeps across his features momentarily as he looks down at you beneath him, and you know what he’s asking. “Havoc.” You re-confirm your safe word. You were entirely comfortable with this and had been the hundreds of times you’d done it before, but he always double-checked.

Shifting back to sit on his knees between your thighs, Hunter’s hands smooth across your body. You hadn’t been made for war or the frontlines, even though you’d insisted all those years ago on being out there with him and his brothers. You were softer, unable to take as many hits, making him want to protect you all the more.

You relax against the couch, content to let him lead, trusting him implicitly. He catches you off guard as he dips his head down, taking one of your nipples in his mouth, tongue swirling around the pebbled bud. Back arching, you huff a breath, squirming as his hands grasp your hips. His lips trail upwards, across your neck, leaving a mark on the other side to the one he’d made earlier. The sweet moan you let out is music to his sensitive ears.

“The way you sound pinned under me…fuck. Your moans are so pretty, cyar’ika. Can hear your heart racing too.” Hunter’s eyes close momentarily, losing one sense, further heightening the rest of them. He breathes in your scent once more, using one hand to pry your thighs further apart, dragging the velvety head of his cock through your slick folds. “So needy for me. This what you want?” He can’t help but tease, enjoying your whimpers and eager nod.

He makes you wait for a second, that mischievous glint in his eyes part of why you fell in love with him in the first place, and then you feel him press against your entrance, inch by glorious inch pushing into you. Your moan catches in your throat, pussy stretching to accommodate him until his hips are flush against you, heavy balls resting against your ass.

Hunter grunts as he bottoms out, eyes fluttering shut once again. “Such a good girl.” He murmurs, giving you a second to adjust before he pulls back and slams back in, making you both cry out. His eyes snap open, locked on your beautiful face as he sets a punishing pace. Your breasts bounce with every thrust, your arms trapped above your head, completely at his mercy.

Fingers grasp your thighs, keeping you in place as he pounds into you. The couch creaks beneath you, but you pay it no mind, too focused on the pleasure building inside of you once again.

“Gonna fuck you every damn day until it sticks. Gonna make you a mommy.” Hunter snarls, watching your lips part, your head tipping backwards as you moan unabashedly. You clench around him, and he knows his words excite you.

He won’t last much longer, having been worked up since you’d told the doctor to remove the implant. He’d never been more grateful for loose-fitting pants in his life – walking out of the clinic with a boner was not something he wanted the island residents gossiping about.

Pulling out of you, he chuckles as you whine. “Patience, mesh’la.” He chides gently, strong hands grasping your hips as he flips you onto your front. He unties the bandana, letting it fall to the floor, and you grab at the arm of the couch as he hauls your ass up, fingernails clawing uselessly at the fabric.

On his knees behind you, Hunter pushes back in, setting a quick pace again. His balls slap against your clit with every thrust, making your back arch, ass pressing against him. “Feel you so deep.” You gasp, hearing a deep rumble of pleasure from behind you moments before a hand grasps your hair, tugging your head backwards.

A sharp sound leaves you, eyes screwed shut at the combination of pleasure and pain that erupts in your body. The warmth in your body builds, the edge drawing oh so deliciously closer. Hunter keeps a hold of you as his thrusts pick up, eyes glancing down to watch his cock slide in and out of you a few times before his free hand snakes around you to rub your clit. “I can feel you squeezing me tight. You gonna cum on my cock, baby?” His pace is relentless, hand letting go of your hair a moment later as he eases you down, your cheek pressed against the couch, back arching beautifully. The change in angle is pure perfection.

“Hunter!” You cry out his name for the second time this afternoon as the pleasure crescendos, your body clenching around him, muscles spasming as you climax.

With your body clamped around his cock, Hunter gives two final thrusts before he stills and presses himself against you, shoving in as deep as he can with a grunt as he cums. His thighs shake as the pleasure washes over him, cock twitching as he fills you.

The sound of both of your ragged breaths fills the room, and the pair of you spend a moment catching your breath. Gentle hands smooth across your back after a moment. “Keep that ass up, cyar’ika. Don’t waste any, even though there’s plenty more where that came from.” Hunter murmurs, folding himself over you as he drags his lips across your shoulder blade, tongue laving at your skin and the thin sheen of sweat on your body.

You let out a little noise of agreement, tilting your hips a fraction to ensure none of his release can escape. It draws a deep chuckle from him, and you bask in the sound.

“I love you.” He whispers, warm breath brushing against your ear as you feel him ease out of you, his softening cock resting against your ass.

“I love you too.” You reply quietly, head tilting to capture his lips in a sweet kiss as his hands slide around your body, resting against your stomach.

As the kiss breaks, he presses his forehead to your back, warm hands rubbing gentle circles against your belly. “Stay like this a little longer, baby.” He insists, the quiet sounds of your synced-up breathing the only noise in the room.

You know it won’t take, but you stay still anyway, soaking in the moment and the feel of his body pressed against you, safe and happy in your little slice of paradise.

#the bad batch #the bad batch x reader #tbb hunter x reader #sergeant hunter x reader #the bad batch hunter x you #hunter x reader #hunter the bad batch #hunter x you #hunter bad batch #star wars #star wars clone wars #star wars the bad batch #breeding k1nk #smut #fools want to start a family

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zoeykallus · 25 days

Text

The Bad Batch/ Mayday/Rex x Fem!Reader Prompts – Confessions

Part 2/7 - Hunter

Warnings: Hurt/Angst/Comfort/Fluff/Love Confessions

Masterlist

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

This is a continuation of this request :

Hunter

You have no idea that the mission, from which Hunter and the others returned to Pabuu, has claimed more victims. You don't know that you've lost another small cell of clone brothers to the Empire, another hideout blown. You look at tired faces as the boys get off the shuttle, but that's not unusual. Hunter, who is the focus of your attention, remains calm and even smiles a little as a group of children buzz around the men, asking curious questions. You think now is as good a time as any to open up to him, to confess your feelings for him. You wait until the kids have left, until you're both more or less alone, and you approach him. “Hunter? Can I talk to you for a moment? I'd like to tell you something. Something personal.” But when Hunter turns around, you look into a weary face that looks anything but relaxed. You hear him sigh softly and say, “Sure. What's on your mind?” A little nervous about the sudden change in his mood, you hesitate for a moment, whereupon he raises his eyebrows questioningly.

Actually, you had already planned your words in your head, but now, you suddenly say completely different things than you had planned. “So, I was wondering how you would feel about me being romantically involved with someone on the team” Hunter frowns, tilting his head to the side. You don't know what he's thinking right now, but he seems critical, very critical, and you feel your heart slowly sink. “That probably wouldn't be a good idea,” he finally says seriously, “Could lead to tension in the team sooner or later. We have to function as a team, a love affair would complicate that” You swallow and a quiet, “Oh,” escapes your lips. “Surely you're asking me this because you want my opinion as sergeant of this team, right?” he asks, almost a little sternly. You shove your hands in your pockets, unsure of what to do with them. “Uh, yeah, sure,” you finally say. “Well, now you know it,” he says curtly and turns away to help the others unload the shuttle.

Helplessly, you look after him, a thick lump in your throat, a leaden heaviness in your chest. You were expecting anything, but not this. You say bitterly to yourself, “That went really well. Ouch.”

Crosshair looks up as he hears Hunter's footsteps and asks, “What were you two talking about, you look like someone pissed in your caf” Hunter makes a gruff gesture and grumbles, “Nothing” Echo, opening one of the boxes that had just been unloaded, says, “Didn't look like nothing, and your face speaks volumes. Did you get a rejection?” Hunter shrugs and says, lurking, “She asked me what I'd think if she was romantically involved with one of you” He looks around as if he expects one of them to confess to having a fling with you at any moment. He seems to be waiting for it. Echo and Crosshair look at each other, surprised, a little confused at first. Wrecker comes out of the shuttle and sits down on the ramp. “What are you talking about?” Echo puts him in the picture and, curious, Wrecker asks, “And which one of you is the lucky one? Because it's not me”

Echo suddenly laughs quietly and says, “None of us. I think someone just wanted to know what Hunter thought about a romantic relationship in our ranks and maybe if he was still available” Crosshair laughs and says, “Hunter, she wanted your opinion because she's interested in you”

Hunter looks a little confused from one to the other, finally, a quiet, "Oh dear", crossing his lips.

Echo asks with a sigh, “What did you answer her? The way you just looked, it couldn't have been good” Hunter bites his tongue and lets out a curse. “Excuse me,” he grumbles and hurries back, just seeing you walk down from the terraces towards the beach. You don't hear his footsteps in the sand, they are drowned out by the sound of the waves crashing on the shore. His voice behind you startles you a little. As you look around, Hunter's expression is very different from before. You wonder what has happened. He looks at you, smiling. His eyes hold your gaze for a moment, and your heart starts to race. “I think we had a little misunderstanding earlier,” he says softly.

“Oh yeah?” you ask in surprise, trying to calm your pulse by sheer force of will, but you don't succeed. Hunter laughs softly and admits, a little embarrassed, “I thought you were involved with one of my brothers and um, to be honest, I was jealous. That's why my reaction was a bit harsh. Unfortunately, it took me a while to figure out why you asked me that question” Your heart is completely out of control, you know Hunter will realize this sooner or later, if not already. You wonder if his words really mean what you think they mean. “Jealous?” you ask quietly, barely loud enough to drown out the waves rolling onto the beach, but you know Hunter hears you. Hunter nods, his eyes still locked on yours. Suddenly you feel his palm on your sternum, very gently. He smiles. “You have a wild little heart,” he says, his smile turning into a smirk, “Now that I know it's doing these wild dances because of me, I can't get enough of it.”

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

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@bandnerdlevel43

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starrylothcat · 9 months

Text

♡ Home ♡

The Bad Batch Ask You to Live With Them Headcanons

Pairing: Individual Bad Batch x GN Reader.

Warnings: Fluff, fluff, fluff. Smooching. Everyone is happy on Pabu AU. 🫶

A/N: This is just some silly fluff I wrote at work today. It was hot AF and I’m still sweating so I apologize for any errors, not really proofread.

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Scenario: You and The Bad Batch have been settled on Pabu for some time. Long-held feelings between you and your Batcher finally had the opportunity to blossom as you eased into a peaceful island routine. You are happy, your love for one another secure and strong.

You’ve discussed moving in together, but island life is calm and your lives are no longer in a rush. You haven’t made that leap in your relationship quite yet, but little did you know your Batcher had plans…

Hunter

You were sitting on the beach, the sun’s last rays catching the calm sea as stars twinkled into view.

Hunter’s arm was wrapped around you, holding you close against him, his head leaning on yours.

“You know that cottage we walk by every day, the one with the garden?” Hunter mumbled, gently tracing his fingers up and down your arm.

“Yeah…I’m surprised no one has moved in there yet. It’s in a perfect location.” You murmured, his fingers putting you in a relaxed trance.

“It is perfect.” He said, his smokey voice lulling you further into a relaxed, carefree state. “I can’t wait to see what you do with the garden.”

You shifted your head to look at him, confusion in your expression, his fingers stopping their caress.

“Omega wants to try to plant meilooruns.” He met your gaze. “And she’s already picking out decorations for her room.”

“Hunter…” you started. “What are you saying?”

Hunter pressed his forehead to yours. “It’s ours. If you want.” He ghosted his lips across your own. “All I have to do is give the word to Shep.”

Your breath hitched.

“Hunter, you mean, that cottage…? It’s really ours?”

He nodded, gently tracing his fingertips across your cheek, the fading sun reflecting in his honeyed eyes.

“I love you, and Omega does too. We’ve spent so much time on the run, never knowing what comes next. It’s time…to put it behind us. Settle down for good. And I want you to be part of that. But if you’re not-“

You grabbed the collar of his shirt and tugged him in for a passionate kiss, his arms immediately pulling you close to him.

“Hunter, yes.“ You beamed, breaking the kiss. “I love you, too.”

Hunter smiled, nuzzling his nose against yours, never having felt so content in his entire life, excited for this next chapter in your relationship.

Echo

You had just closed up your shop and were waiting for Echo. He promised to take you out tonight and told you he was planning something special.

He met you at your shop, kissing you deeply as his hello.

“Hello to you, too.” You giggled, slightly flustered at his kiss as he looped his arm with yours. “Where are you taking me tonight?”

“It’s still a surprise, mesh’la.” He winked, leading you down a a few quiet roads.

“There aren’t any restaurants up here.” You gave him a look, having no idea what he had planned.

Echo didn’t say anything, the evening lights flickering on throughout the island, casting warm glows onto the street.

A few more turns and Echo stopped. You stood in front of a cottage, a soft glow of light coming from the front windows.

“Echo-“ He just smiled, leading you up the cobbled path to the home.

“Echo, if your idea of a date is breaking and entering…” you teased, still confused as to what was going on.

Echo chuckled, opening the door to the cottage, surprising you that it was open.

“Just trust me, mesh’la.”

You stepped inside, gasping slightly. The cottage was empty, save for a blanket that was spread on the ground in what would be the living room.

A few candles were the only light source, highlighting the picnic that was spread across the blanket, and two empty glasses for the bottle of wine that sat in the middle of the spread.

You looked at him, still just as lost as before.

“It’s not much, but I figured we should celebrate the first night in our house.”

You opened and closed your mouth, processing his words.

“Our…house? Echo, you mean…?”

He wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tight.

“I love you and…I want to spend every moment together. Build a life…together. I saw this cottage was available and talked to Shep. It’s ours if we want it.”

Tears clouded your vision as you kissed him, overwhelmed by his words. You nodded excitedly against his lips, your heart ready to burst with joy.

“Me too, Echo. I love you. I want to build a life with you, too.”

He smiled, wiping the tears from your cheeks.

“Let’s crack open that wine then, shall we?”

Tech

Tech had been busy as of late, which is normal. He always had some project or idea that was occupying his mind.

But you knew something strange was going on when he kept hiding his datapad from you, or quickly pushing flimis under other piles of half-worked on gadgets whenever you walked into his room.

Finally, you decided to ask what he was working on, and what has been so intensely engrossing his mind the last few weeks.

“Can I ask what it is you’re working on?” You queried as you lounged on his bed in his room, watching him work.

He turned to you, and it looked like he was hesitating, and almost nervous to say something.

He let out a breath and fully faced you.

“We’ve been together romantically for some time now…” he started. “And we are happy, correct?”

You raised you eyebrow, nodding. “Yes, of course Tech. I love you.”

“As I you.” He stated. “So I have been pondering of what should come next, and I determined it was time to begin the next phase of our relationship, if you agree.”

Tech held out his datapad toward you as you stared at him, wondering what he was going on about.

“I began investigating homes we could share. There are plenty of available cottages throughout the island which I have researched thoroughly, though none are up to my standards.”

Tech adjusted his goggles as heat began to flush your cheeks.

“So, I took it upon myself to explore ways on how to build one myself.”

Your heart fluttered at his words as you sat up completely. “Tech, you want to build us a house?”

“Precisely. If you want to cohabitate with me, that is.” The last part of his statement came out quiet, as if he wasn’t sure of what your answer would be.

You peeked at the datapad, which had blueprint schematics of a cottage, all designed by him.

You looked back at him, not stopping the large smile on your face as Tech fidgeted, waiting for your response.

“Tech…” you said softly. “Yes, I’d love to live with you. I want it more than anything.”

You watched as his shoulders seemed to relax as you set down the datapad, closing the distance between the two of you.

Tech took your hand, his thumb gently tracing over yours.

“Of course, I’ll need your input on the final design, but I think you’ll approve of what I have so far.”

You smiled, leaning into him, his other arm holding you close. “As long as I’m with you, it’ll be perfect.”

Wrecker

Wrecker was giddy, practically dragging you down the road as he picked up his pace.

“Wrecker, where are we going?! Wait a sec, you’re walking too fast!” You could barely match his strides.

“You’re gonna love it, I promise! We are almost there!”

After another turn down a street, Wrecker finally stopped at the end of a row of small cottages.

“Here!” He exclaimed loudly, gesturing to you to follow him.

“Wrecker, what is this?!” You gasped, out of breath.

“It’s our new house! I know we talked about having our own place awhile ago and…here it is!” Wrecker excitedly tugged you in through the front door, your mind trying to play catch up to what he was saying.

You stepped inside, Wrecker eagerly pointing to different areas of the cottage.

“The windows in the kitchen are big, so we can have a great view while we cook together. That was the first thing I thought of…” Wrecker blushed as he turned, pointing to the door that led to a back patio.

“Oh, and look at the porch! Ya can grow all the herbs you’ve been wanting to! And wait until you see the view out the bedroom window-“

Wrecker stopped, noticing how quiet you were being.

You were gazing around the empty house, your mind spinning with surprise and happiness.

You were moved at Wrecker’s excitement and having a home to call your own, with him, not expecting this in the slightest.

Tears were sliding down your cheeks, and you didn’t even notice until Wrecker’s large hand was gently wiping them away.

“Mesh’la, I’m sorry, I got carried away. If ya aren’t ready I understand, or if ya don’t like this cottage we can-“ Wrecker sighed, thinking he ruined everything. “I’m sorry if it’s too much.”

You looked up at him, smiling.

“Wrecker, this is more than I could have ever wanted. I love this. I love you.” You placed your hand over his that was now cradling your face. “I want this.”

Wrecker smiled, relief washing over him.

“Now, tell me again about the kitchen?” You laughed, happy tears still running down your face as Wrecker kissed your cheeks, laughing with you in your new home.

Crosshair

You were laying with your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as you almost drifted off to sleep, Crosshair’s arm keeping you close to him.

You noticed he had been a little on edge today, restless and fidgeting more than usual.

You suggested a nap, which he agreed to.

He continued to be restless, though, not able to get comfortable as you laid on him.

“Want to go for a walk?” He grunted, shifting under you.

You lifted your head, blinking a few times. “Sure.” You smiled sleepily, sitting up from your laying position.

You often went on walks in the evening, a ritual you began not long after you became a couple.

You walked quietly under the full moon, the streets silent. Crosshair’s hand found yours, enjoying one another’s presence as you strolled through the winding avenues.

You let Crosshair lead the way, and you walked up into a cluster of cottages that you often passed by on your walks.

You’ve mentioned before how you like this part of Pabu, this subset of cottages getting the best view of the sunset.

Crosshair suddenly stopped, still grasping your hand.

“Is everything ok?” You asked, wondering why he stopped so suddenly.

He looked at you as he lifted your hand, turning your palm up, his silver hair almost indistinguishable from the moonlight casting down on the two of you.

“I was going to wait until tomorrow, but here.”

Crosshair placed a small key in the center of your palm, closing your fingers around it.

“Crosshair, what is this?” You asked softly, confused as to what he was doing.

“It’s ours.” He stated. “The one with the blue door.” You glanced behind him at the cottage with said blue door.

You focused back on him, trying to piece together what he was saying, his expression unreadable.

“What do you mean?” Your voice quivered, clutching the key.

“You know what I mean, doll.” His tone was soft. “It has the best view of the sunset. I made sure of that.”

You practically jumped at him, swinging your arms around him and crushing yourself into his chest, tears pricking at your eyes.

“Crosshair, I-“

He leaned his head on yours, his lips brushing against your forehead. You didn’t need to finish your sentence.

“It’s ours, now?” You whispered.

“As of yesterday.”

You looked up at him. “How did you know I’d say yes?”

Crosshair smirked, his lips close to yours. “You did, didn’t you?”

You smirked back, his lips capturing yours in the moonlight in front of your new home.

Taglist: @littlemissmanga @secondaryrealm @sinfulsalutations @anxiouspineapple99 @secretthegriffin @idontgetanysleep @starqueensthings @dystopicjumpsuit @wings-and-beskar @dreamie411 @aconstructofamind @coraex @multi-fan-dom-madness @freesia-writes @kashasenpai @wanderer-six @blueink-bluesoul @the-cantina @king-chaos-world @wolffegirlsunite @523rdrebel @dukeoftheblackstar @pb-jellybeans @sleepingsun501 @sunshinesdaydream @din-miller

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orbitalmirror · 2 months

Text

Grand Days and Small Gestures

Pairing: Hunter x Reader

Word Count: 9152

Warnings: Language, canon-typical violence.

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

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

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

Today isn’t the worst day of your life.

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

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

Your stomach growls in dissent.

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

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

It could be worse.

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

Click.

Darkness.

That definitely wasn’t your doing.

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

You listen. No footsteps.

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

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

You’re free, and nobody is around.

Well, this just got interesting.

~~~

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

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

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

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

When it opens, you don’t find droids.

You find clones.

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

Nope, you think. Not happening.

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

Time has suddenly become far more pressing.

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

Where are the rest of the clones?

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

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

Unfortunately, the stars are not on your side today.

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

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

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

“Who are you?” the clone yells.

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

“Sergeant CT-9901. Call me Hunter.”

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

You say nothing.

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

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

“Absolutely not.”

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

“Where are you going?”

“We’re escaping.”

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

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

Well, shit. What other choice do you have?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that an option?” you ask.

“As long as you don’t shoot us.”

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

“What other clones?”

…you’re joking.

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

“Where are we going?”

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

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

Crosshair says nothing.

Such a conversationalist.

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

“I asked where we’re going.”

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

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

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

…what?

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

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

“What’s in it?” you ask.

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

Helpful.

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

“You, first.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You feel better?” Wrecker asks.

“Sure do. Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

What a day.

~~~

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

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

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

“This is immediate,” Wrecker insists.

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

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

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

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

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

Then: “Catch.”

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

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

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

To open—

To—

What the hell?

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Urghh,” you groan.

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

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

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

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

“Stars, I hope not,” you mumble.

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

“What are regs?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Smart man, you think.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No better time,” he says.

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

“So we’ll start with assembling it…”

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

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

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

“Repeat back what I just told you.”

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

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

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

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

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

You immediately slide your grip back to where it was.

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

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

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

You breathe in. Breathe out. Aim. Squeeze.

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

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

Fweeoo.

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

Fweeoo.

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

“You’ve made your point,” he murmurs.

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

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

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

“Which watch should I take?”

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

“Do you want a second pair of eyes?”

“Don’t need them.”

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

“Goodnight,” says Hunter, softly.

You don’t manage to summon a response.

(Your heart still pounds against your ribs.)

~~~

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

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

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

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

“Clankers?” Wrecker asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And somebody just got on your ship?”

“Apparently, yes.”

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

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

“Should we leave the packs?” you ask.

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

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

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

“Two? But you only have three spares.”

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

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

Wait.

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

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

“Let’s go get our ship back.”

~~~

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

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

“Anything else?” Hunter asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then you almost drop the binoculars.

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

What’s going on? What’s going on?

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

Kark. This.

“Those are Third Hand,” you say.

“Third Hand?”

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

“What?” Hunter asks.

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

“So what are they doing out here?”

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

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

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

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

“Six is manageable,” he says.

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

But his voice is deadly serious.

“Six against four?” you ask, incredulous.

“Six against five.”

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

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

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

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

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

“We don’t need an evac!”

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

Hunter goes deathly still.

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

Hunter isn’t looking at you.

“We have never been normal,” he mutters.

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

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

“Then don’t come.”

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

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

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

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

…no, you do.

It all clicks together.

“Yes, we do.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

All four men glance at each other. Wrecker grins.

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

~~~

The plan is insane.

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

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

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

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

So, just normal Taungsday things.

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

Tech, Wrecker, and Crosshair agree.

Hunter just glares at you.

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

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

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

“So if you fail…”

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

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

~~~

The first ten minutes are a dramatic, spectacular victory.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I will.”

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

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

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

Bzzz. Your comm goes off.

“Hunter?”

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

“On my way,” you say.

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

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

“Almost done,” he says.

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

Then: green light.

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

~~~

Here’s the thing:

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

Here’s the thing:

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

Here’s the thing:

Until five seconds ago, you actually liked him.

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

“Let’s go!” he calls.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You can see the door slowly open up ahead.

So close.

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

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

One second passes.

The sound of blaster fire rings in your ears.

Two seconds pass.

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you alright?” he asks.

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

“Come on, we don’t have much time.”

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

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

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

“On it!” Wrecker calls back.

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

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

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

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

All you can think to say is: “What?”

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

“What is it?”

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

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

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

“Just one, though.”

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

Oh.

Oh!

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

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

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

“Not…not the datastick. I just…”

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

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

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

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

“Thank you,” you murmur.

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

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

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

Time is slipping like water between your fingers.

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

“You’ll be okay?” he asks.

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

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

Hunter snorts. “We found you in prison.”

“Occupational hazard!”

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

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

Hunter nods. “I’ll see you around.”

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

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

Time to go.

Somehow, it doesn’t feel like a goodbye.

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

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