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ghostofskywalker · 9 days

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thank you! i'm glad you enjoyed it :)

The Galaxy Can Grant A Second Chance

Hunter/Fem!Reader

Words: 2,083

Summary: You didn't think you would ever see them again, but here they were, and you are forced to face the truth behind why you left all that time ago.

Prompt: "I'm not leaving. Not this time"

Note: this is part of the bad batch xreader exchange, which i ran! my prompt came from @knightprincess, and i had a lot of fun writing it! To the see the other fics in the exchange, check out @cloneficgiftexchange :)

i have not seen any of the bad batch season 3 at this point (my brain is hyperfixated on dimension 20 atm), so this is obviously set prior to that, but of course i like to imagine that crosshair eventually finds his way back to his family <3

Clone Troopers Masterlist

The first time you caught a glimpse of the Bad Batch through the window of the mechanic shop you worked in, you were fully convinced it was a hallucination. There was no way they were here now, it had to be a trick of the mind, a manifestation of some guilt you hadn’t yet processed.

You had left no trace when you disappeared, there was no way they would be able to find you.

If you had only seen them once, you might have truly chalked it up to some kind of exhaustion (this job certainly had hours different than you were used to working, along with the added stress of the Empire��s rule over the galaxy), but it happened again. This time hours later, you could see what looked like the back of Tech’s head and Wrecker’s hulking frame pass through the crowds on the street.

As your stomach dropped, you rushed to the shop’s tiny windows, staring out as people walked along the street, trying to catch a glimpse while also keeping to the shadows. And after a few desperate moments, you felt comfortable confirming it: that the Bad Batch was indeed here, on the surface of Tatooine, and you didn’t know why.

The note you left was more hurtful than you wished it had to be, but you didn’t want anyone trying to follow you. Did this mean they were actively tracking your movements, that they were risking their cover (and their lives) to find you? Or was this simply something of a coincidence, an unfortunate reality that neither they nor you had any part in? If you were too obvious about your presence, and their reason for being here wasn’t related to your disappearance from their ship, you were now risking everything you fought so hard to protect. The bounty on your head had been (and still was) growing exponentially by the day, and after a while you could no longer ignore it. The Empire had placed a hefty price on your head, and it was clear that they were willing to go to great lengths to get what they wanted, making your mere presence dangerous to anyone you cared about.

It was hard enough leaving in the middle of the night like you did, and you hoped that the forces at work in the galaxy would at least have the decency to allow you to grieve the loss of what could have been in peace, because Maker knows you already had enough guilt in your heart, you certainly didn’t need another reminder of the way in which you gave up the best life you’ve ever had.

And then you saw him, and your heart stopped for a moment.

Hunter had always been your favorite, and no, it wasn’t because you found his face tattoo incredibly attractive. The two of you had clicked instantly, and as much as you enjoyed hanging out with his brothers, you had a special connection with him. But the galaxy was nothing if not cruel, and it placed you both in a situation where things would never work out, because if you truly wanted more than just a platonic relationship with him, you would have to live with the fact that you were putting him and his entire family at risk with every second you stayed on that ship.

Leaving was the hardest thing you’ve ever done, but you knew it was the best option. If something had happened to any of the Bad Batch, you would never be able to forgive yourself, and you would rather see them alive and hating you than the alternative. You thought that peace had already been made, that you finally came to terms with the fact that you lost a gamble on love for the price of keeping them safe, but apparently that wasn’t the case.

Because here they were, and you were definitely not hallucinating.

It wasn’t a good idea to keep staring out the window, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop, because this was something you never thought would happen, and therefore had no mental plan in place.

They were standing across the street, and Omega was scanning her surroundings, as if looking for something. You tried to duck away from the window when you saw her gaze passing by, and you believed that your efforts were mostly successful, but after a while it seemed like she was staring in your shop’s direction more and more. After a few more minutes, you simply ducked away, resigning yourself to begin working on the speeders you had in the back room, because their owners would be coming to pick them up in less than a day, and you hadn’t really done anything yet.

The day was otherwise eventless, and as the hours passed the feelings of worry, doubt, and anxiety in your stomach started to dissipate. By the time you finished up your repair job on some landspeeders, you thought you might have forgotten what happened this morning.

The bell in your front room jingled, signaling to you that there was someone who needed your help. “I’ll be there in a moment!” you called, quickly finishing up the piece of engine you were installing and grabbing a cloth to mop up the oil stains on your hands (with this line of work dirty hands were expected, but you also didn’t really want to accidentally get some grime on a potential client).

When you stepped out in the front room, that cloth fell from your hands, and that rock returned to your stomach.

The entire Bad Batch was standing there, with a full spectrum of expressions on their faces, ones that ranged from calculating (Tech), to smiling (Omega), to nonchalance (Crosshair, who you hadn’t actually met but had seen enough holopictures of to recognize on sight). Hunter stood in the middle of the group, and the look on his face could only be described as a mixture of anger and melancholy.

You didn’t know what to say. How could you know what to say? How would any combination of words strung together in this moment effectively communicate what you were feeling?

But it didn’t seem like anyone else was going to say anything, so you had to be the one to break the silence. “Can I help you with something?” You tried to sound professional, but some of your feelings broke through the script.

Out of everyone standing there, you were shocked to see Crosshair speak up. “We need to have someone look at the central wiring on our droid. Is that something you do here?”

A little surprised at the way he simply inquired about your services, you wondered if the rest of the Batch had not told him about their prior time with you. You thought for a moment before answering. “I specialize more in land vehicles, but I know something about droids, depending on what kind you have. If nothing else, I should be able to take a look at it, and if I don’t have the parts to fix it I probably know someone who does.”

You had suspicions about what the droid in question would be, because you of course remembered the temperamental gonk droid that also called the Havoc Marauder home. But time has passed since you had last seen them, so you didn’t know for sure if that was what Crosshair was talking about.

“It’s a GNK-series power droid,” Crosshair said, and you were suddenly aware of all the others’ gazes on you. It was the same droid, but since everyone was acting like they didn’t know who you were, you weren’t going to cause any kind of trouble now.

“I can definitely take a look at that,” you said, and the rest of the interaction went by in a blur. What felt like moments later you were left alone (after Gonky was brought into your work area), and the room fell silent. A whirlwind of questions spun around in your brain as you searched the rooms of the shop for the parts and tools you would need.

Did they know you were here before they stepped in the door, or was this all some kind of terrible coincidence?

If they did know you we here before they walked in, why didn’t anyone say anything?

And finally, why did the galaxy have to torture you this way?

Gonky made a noise from the other room, and you just sighed. Of course it wasn’t enough for you to sacrifice your future with Hunter for his (and the rest of his family’s safety), now you had to be reminded of your treachery in what felt like the worst way.

***

Thankfully you had all the parts necessary to refit Gonky for some new wires, and you communicated that in a message to the Batch, who promised to return in a few hours to pick up the droid. By the time the bells on your door jingled, you thought you were ready to face the people you abandoned once more.

Until only Hunter stepped through the doorway, a solemn look on his face.

This time, it was clear he wasn’t going to pretend that he didn’t know you. “Why did you leave?”

You stopped what you were doing, thankfully managing to hold onto the wrench in your hands so it didn’t go clattering to the floor. “I told you,” you said softly, not wanting to show any sign of regret, of weakness. You were still being hunted, and until the galaxy was free of the Empire’s hold, you had to be aware of that. Lying to him hurt, but you still believed it to be the only option.

“Two lines of scribble on a piece of flimsi isn’t enough,” he said. “And look, I’ve made my peace with things if you truly didn’t want to be around me anymore, but I need to hear it from you.”

You opened your mouth, all set to force the lie loose from your throat, but you couldn’t do it. “It doesn’t matter what I want,” you said. “The Empire has put a price on my head, and I couldn’t stomach being the reason that you, any of your brothers, or Omega got caught.”

“Why didn’t you say that?” he asked.

At this point, it was taking a lot for you not to break. “Because I thought it would be easier, for all of us. Things between you and me were getting more serious, and I knew I wasn’t strong enough to resist if you asked me to stay.”

You expected him to respond, to say something about how they would protect you, how you would be safer all together, or for him to even to nod, take Gonky, and leave. You didn’t expect him to start laughing.

“What?” Now you were confused.

When he finally stopped, your eyebrows were raised. “You know we have a price on our head that’s almost double the one on yours, right?”

“No, I-”

But he cut you off. “Maybe it wasn’t when you ran away, but now? We’ve caused a lot of chaos that the Empire isn’t happy about. We’re actually looking for a way to lay low for a while, and since it was an accident running into you here, maybe you could give us some pointers?”

Well, that was one of your questions answered. There was a hopeful edge to his voice that you found yourself falling for, and you thought that even though you had bolted in the middle of the night, you found yourself foolishly hoping that maybe there would still be a future for you, with him.

“I’ve got a pretty big place here,” you said softly, and the implication was clear. “I wouldn’t mind if you crashed for a while.”

Things between you wouldn’t fixed in a day, a week, or a month. There was still work to be done if you ever wanted to get back to the way things used to be, and maybe that was impossible. But you were willing to put that work in, to help mend where you had broken when you slipped out of the ship in the dead of night all that time ago.

“I’d like that,” he said, and the two of you stepped closer to one another, close enough for him to take your hand. “As long as I don’t have to worry about you running away again.”

You laughed. "I'm not leaving. Not this time"

- the end -

#comment reblog #hunter x reader

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ghostofskywalker · 10 days

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this was absolutely amazing, thank you so much for writing it!! i love everything about this world you’ve created, and the line "You call that groundwork? You were talking about soup." had me actually laughing out loud 😂 my favorite crosshair fics are the ones in which he’s a little bit annoying to his brothers and awkward to new people, and this one captures all of that perfectly 💚💚

you are so kind in all your reblogs about these events i run and i’m so grateful for how amazing every one has turned out 🥹

Take Me Out

Bad Batch x Reader Exchange 2024

Crosshair x fem!reader | 4.7k words

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I don't understand."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sorry, maybe next time."

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

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

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

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

* * *

Vandor-3. Woodland outskirts. Spring.

You were here. Finally.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'll take that bet."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Uh, you alright?"

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

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

"That," you breathed.

Hunter cocked a confused eyebrow.

"That is what I'm looking for."

* * *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh. Uh, potato, I think."

"How boring."

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

Crosshair hummed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?" Crosshair bit back at them.

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

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

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

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

"What a special connection," Echo said.

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

"What?"

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

"And kind of pathetic," added Echo.

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

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

Vandor-3. Woodland outskirts. Autumn.

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

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

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

"Sergeant," you returned with a smile.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And using the laser sight?"

You nodded a little slower and Crosshair tsked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And hope for the best, right?"

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

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

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

"Crosshair?"

"Hm?"

"I was thinking about Hunter...."

The sniper glanced at you suspiciously.

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

"Where are you going with this?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And heaven forbid you would ever end up alone again.

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

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

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

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

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ghostofskywalker · 10 days

Text

The Galaxy Can Grant A Second Chance

Hunter/Fem!Reader

Words: 2,083

Summary: You didn't think you would ever see them again, but here they were, and you are forced to face the truth behind why you left all that time ago.

Prompt: "I'm not leaving. Not this time"

Clone Troopers Masterlist

You had left no trace when you disappeared, there was no way they would be able to find you.

If you had only seen them once, you might have truly chalked it up to some kind of exhaustion (this job certainly had hours different than you were used to working, along with the added stress of the Empire’s rule over the galaxy), but it happened again. This time hours later, you could see what looked like the back of Tech’s head and Wrecker’s hulking frame pass through the crowds on the street.

And then you saw him, and your heart stopped for a moment.

Because here they were, and you were definitely not hallucinating.

When you stepped out in the front room, that cloth fell from your hands, and that rock returned to your stomach.

You didn’t know what to say. How could you know what to say? How would any combination of words strung together in this moment effectively communicate what you were feeling?

Out of everyone standing there, you were shocked to see Crosshair speak up. “We need to have someone look at the central wiring on our droid. Is that something you do here?”

Did they know you were here before they stepped in the door, or was this all some kind of terrible coincidence?

If they did know you we here before they walked in, why didn’t anyone say anything?

And finally, why did the galaxy have to torture you this way?

***

Until only Hunter stepped through the doorway, a solemn look on his face.

This time, it was clear he wasn’t going to pretend that he didn’t know you. “Why did you leave?”

“Why didn’t you say that?” he asked.

“What?” Now you were confused.

When he finally stopped, your eyebrows were raised. “You know we have a price on our head that’s almost double the one on yours, right?”

“No, I-”

“I’ve got a pretty big place here,” you said softly, and the implication was clear. “I wouldn’t mind if you crashed for a while.”

“I’d like that,” he said, and the two of you stepped closer to one another, close enough for him to take your hand. “As long as I don’t have to worry about you running away again.”

You laughed. "I'm not leaving. Not this time"

- the end -

#TBBE24 #tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter #sergeant hunter x reader #hunter x reader #the bad batch x reader #clone trooper x reader

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