#Crosshair with his rifle ready

[webslinger-holland]

Running Bets | Hunter from The Bad Batch

Summary: The Bad Batch likes to make bets during missions, especially when things get really chaotic.

Warning: mentions of death, weapons, and droids being dismembered

Pairing: Hunter x Fem!Reader Jedi

Word Count: 3.5k

Type: Oneshot

The Bad Batch were currently away on another one of their missions. They found themselves aboard a modified Providence-Class Separatist Dreadnought which served as General Grievous's main command ship. Their mission was quite simple: infiltrate the naval warship, retrieve a piece of valuable intel, and return it back to the jedi council.

A few years prior, the Kaminoans had specifically requested for the Jedi Council to select and send a Jedi to come work with the rebellious group of clones. They had hoped being under the command of a jedi master would beat them into shape and teach them how to properly follow orders.

However, the Kaminoans didn't know what they had gotten themselves into when General L/n was sent to work with The Bad Batch. She was the only jedi who jumped at the opportunity to lead the group of misfits since nobody else wanted to be assigned to them. She came with her own sense of recklessness that only added to the squads over-the-top plans and inability to follow order the 'right way.'

Now, just a few years later, the five members of the Bad Batch stood in front of a closed corridor on the dreadnought. There was a comfortable silence that settled over them which was only interrupted a few times by Crosshair clicking the scope of his sniper rifle, Wrecker cracking his knuckles in preparation for the fight ahead of them, and Tech tapping away at his data pad. They stared at the closed door right in front of them, growing slightly impatient.

"Ugh," Wrecker groaned while rolling his eyes in annoyance. "What's taking so long?"

"I am trying to crack into the ship's security system. It's a complex system, but once I'm in, I'll be able to access all the doors of the dreadnought and open this one for us," Tech explained to them. He was kneeling beside the data panel beside the door, pressing some buttons in the process.

The only problem was that the rest of them had tuned him out after the word 'security.'

"Why can't I just smash through the doors? It'll be a lot quicker than this," Wrecker argued.

"Because that would give away the element of surprise," Hunter interjected. "Nobody knows we're here."

"And I, for one, would like to keep it that way," General L/n added.

"Just hurry up, will you?" Wrecker groaned. "I'm dying to crush some droids."

"I've...almost...got...it," Tech said rather slowly while pressing buttons on the panel quickly.

The screen became illuminated with a shade of green, which shown in the reflection of his goggles adorned on his face. He was now granted access to the entire ship's security system via his data pad. He stood back up to join his brothers. He pressed a few buttons on his data pad to open the large sealed blast door in front of them.

"Eyes up. We don't know what we're up against on the other side of this," Hunter told the rest of the group. They waited for the door to open for them. He drew his own two blasters out of the holsters, keeping them ready for a fight.

The other members of the group seemed to follow his actions by readying their own weapons. The general, who stood in the front and center of the group, decided to pull her own two lightsabers from her belt. Her thumbs lingering over the button in preparation for activation. Her eyes trained on the sealed door in front of her, holding her breath in anticipation.

"Care to wager a bet, boys?" She hoped it would put the rest of them at ease.

"Don't we always?" Crosshair inquired with a slight hint of sarcasm in his tone.

"Loser has to clean the ship including the refresher," Y/n smirked to herself. She glanced over her shoulder to meet Wrecker's gaze.

"That's not that bad of a punishment," Wrecker scoffed while his shoulders slumped in slight disappointment.

"Have you seen the ship recently? Can't even see the floor," Hunter interjected.

"It has gotten pretty bad," Tech agreed. Oddly enough, Tech was easily one of the messiest ones because of all the little projects he left lying around. One could trip over all the cords and wires on the ground.

"Fine," Wrecker groaned more to himself. "Loser cleans the ship."

"Including the refresher," Y/n quickly added, not wanting him to miss out that little detail because she had every intention of making sure he lost today.

"Including the refresher," Wrecker grumbled under his breath.

"Whenever you're ready, Tech." The General was prepared for the fight ahead of them, keeping a firm grip on the two lightsabers in her grasp. She readjusted her stance and lifted her lightsabers up in a defensive manner.

Finally, as if on cue, Tech pressed a single button on his data pad which activated the blast doors in front of them. The doors began opening slowly from the center, retracting back into the walls and revealing the vast hallway corridor in front of them.

What the Bad Batch hadn't expected was to find the corridor completely packed with the traditional B-1 battle droids. There had to have been fifty or sixty of them standing around with blasters in hand. Their long yellow heads seemed to turn towards the source of the noise all simultaneously.

"A jedi?" One of the closer droids exclaimed in slight surprise. He pointed towards the group to signal the others. "Blast them!"

Before the droids even had a chance to start firing, General L/n had activated her two yellow lightsabers and charged straight towards the company of clankers. She dodged each of their shots, moving swiftly from left to right. Once she got close enough to them, she swiftly swung her lightsaber to slice through the base of their blasters, rendering them useless.

Behind her, the rest of them started firing their own shots and taking out droids while making their way down the corridor. Each of them showcasing their own unique style of fighting. While Crosshair usually lingered behind the group to take his precise shots, Wrecker always charged head on and fired wildly at anything in sight. There was Hunter who liked switching between blasters and blades, but often kept to his knifes as a preference. In contrast, Tech always carried two blasters and fired calculated shots.

Despite all their differences, the Bad Batch successfully worked together as a team. The General also had a different strategy. She always rushed head on; though it wasn't because she was eager for the fight, but more so because she wanted to protect the others if she could. Her two lightsabers acted as their only defense in many situations. And they trusted her enough to cover them.

Taking more droids down, Tech quickly maneuvered his way through a clear and open path until he stood in front of the next closed door. His twin joined his side and covered his back so he could have the time to open the next door without getting shot. However, when Tech pressed the button on his data pad, the doors in front of him didn't open and his data pad flashed red.

"Uh oh," Tech said to himself.

"Uh oh?" Hunter repeated. He grabbed the blade of his knife before throwing it across the room, sticking directly into a battle droid's head. "What does 'uh oh' mean, Tech?" Hunter demanded an answer.

"This door isn't opening," Tech explained shortly. He kept pressing buttons on his data pad in hopes that it would open if he tried a different combination.

"I thought --" Y/n grunted as she sliced through another droid. "You said you overroad the ship's security system and that you'd have full access to all doors."

"I did," Tech replied with a strong sense of frustration in his voice.

Pressing one final button, the door opened ever so slightly but then closed again. There had to be someone on the other side, operating the system to keep it closed from them.

"Someone is intentionally trying to keep this door closed and keep us out," Tech announced to the rest of them. His eyes scanned the vast space of the door, thinking about how he could get through.

"Well, get it open." Y/n replied.

Kneeling down beside the door, Tech got to work by prying the metal panel away from the wall. His skillful fingers threaded through the various colorful wires, searching for a cord to connect to his data pad. He called out to the others, saying he was gonna need a minute to break through.

As Tech worked steadily, Crosshair stood right beside him and fired strategically from his sniper's rifle. He took out droids who even turned in their general direction, not wanting them to get remotely close to them.

Just as the group of battle droids was beginning to thin, the doors on the left and right side of them opened to reveal more. The droids marched right into the fight, acting as the reinforcements to protect whatever was locked behind the main door. They fired relentlessly which was starting to put a strain on the group.

At some point, Wrecker had abandoned his rapid firing blaster and decided to just rip droids apart. It wasn't that hard of a task since they were made of a relatively cheap metal. He'd simply grab a droid, tear the limps off, and toss the remaining parts to the side. He threw one of the droid's bodies into the crowd coming into the corridor, which ended up knocking some of them down.

"I've got ten already!" Wrecker announced over the loud blaster fire echoing in the room. He smiled proudly to himself as he tore the arms off another droid.

"I'm on seventeen," Y/n called back. She could have sworn she heard the sergeant chuckled behind his helmet.

"Wha--" Wrecker was at a loss for words. He retrieved his blaster once again, firing rapidly in hopes of taking down more droids than his companion.

As she sliced through two more droids, Y/n turned her head and looked over her shoulder. She wore an amused smile on her face when she announced: "Nineteen!"

"You're falling behind, Wrecker." Crosshair taunted from the sidelines. He went to adjust his scope before pulling the trigger a few more times, watching the droids fall from behind it.

"Yeah? How many are you on?" Wrecker asked snakily.

"Don't worry about it."

In the center of the room, Hunter had pulled his vibroblade out of the sheath on his forearm. He jabbed the knife into the backs of droids, sendings jolts of electricity through them and taking their main computing systems out. He worked through the growing crowd of clankers, moving between them smoothly in a way that managed to dodge their firepower.

Upon turning, Hunter spotted a couple of them pointing their blasters directly at him. He dropped down to the floor just as they began firing, getting out of the way just in the knick of time. He summersaulted towards them, swiping his leg out to take out their legs from underneath them. The three droids fell to the floor. He plunged his knife into their heads before they had a chance to regain composure.

"How's that door coming, Tech?" Hunter inquired.

Now Tech was working steadily at cracking the system's code. He just needed a little bit more time, which he was certain his brothers could grant him. At first, Tech didn't respond to Hunter's question. All of the sudden, a battle droid had come to approach him and stood directly beside him.

"Halt," the droid ordered him.

Without looking up, Tech pulled one of his blasters out of his holster. He raised it quickly and fired a single shot, which managed to lodge itself directly into the droid's head. He pocketed his blaster again as the droid collapsed right beside him and went right back to work on the door.

"Just a few more adjustments," Tech replied to the others. He clicked a few more buttons on his data pad, but nothing that effected their current situation. They were still stuck in the corridor and more droids were filtering in by the second.

"You're taking a long time. Thought you were supposed to be the smart one," Wrecker called out. He grabbed another droid, raising it above his head and sending it hurdling down the corridor to take out another company of them.

"I am the smart one," Tech reassured them with a hint of bluntness in his voice. He did not look the slightest bit amused by Wrecker's comment.

"Heads up," Hunter announced.

He took out an electro magnet pulse grenade, pressed the button on the side to activate it and threw it into a crowd of droids coming into the corridor. The grenade landed at the feet of the droids before random bursts of electricity and energy surged from it. The droids' bodies shook from the electricity, shutting them down.

Despite their efforts, more droids just kept coming after them. It seemed like it was a never ending steady flow of them. When one droid went down, another two would come into the corridor to replace them. The amount of dead droids littering the ground with becoming overwhelming.

At some point, Hunter was firing shots towards droids coming from the left and Y/n was deflecting blasts coming from droids on the right side. They met in the center of the room; their backs pressing together. The two of them moved in a synchronized harmony, trusting that the other was able to cover their backs and silently communicating with their timed movements.

Tapping into the force. Y/n raised her two lightsabers over her head and forced them to form an 'x' shape directly in front of Hunter's helmet. This movement deflected a single blaster shot that was intended to strike the sergeant in the head. If it hadn't been for her senses and his stillness in that movement, Hunter would've taken the shot to the head. But that wasn't gonna happen on her watch.

"Thanks," Hunter peered over his shoulder.

"Don't mention it," Y/n waved it off.

With their backs pressed together, Hunter and Y/n continued to work together to take down the droids coming at them. The two of them moved with ultimate precision that they dominated the field. They'd never danced like this before.

At this point, Wrecker and Crosshair had stopped firing their own shots just to watch the others in action. The immediate threat was gone now as the number of droids firing at them had dwindled drastically.

Spotting the last four droids coming towards them in a line, Y/n took a single step away from her partner. She twisted her body to launch her lightsaber down the hallway, watching the yellow blade circle rapidly towards them. The lightsaber effortlessly sliced through the droids heads and they clattered to the ground. Before the lightsaber made contact with the wall, Y/n summoned it back into her hand and switched it off. She pocketed them both onto her belt.

The four members of the squad met in the center of the room while the other continued working on the connecting wires to his data pad. They briefly glanced at the mass amounts of unmoving droids by their feet, kicking a few limbs out of the way. At last, Wrecker flopped down on a small pile of droids. He looked at each of them with a strong sense of anticipation.

"Final count," Crosshair began. He adjusted the scope on his rifle for long range. He smirked to himself at the mere thought of winning the contest. "Thirty-three."

"Thirty-three," Wrecker repeated calmly. He nodded his head understandingly. "That's not bad for the squad's resident sniper."

Upon hearing this, Crosshair glanced up at him with eyebrows furrowed in slight confusion. He halted his movements, studying the way his brother looked so pleased with himself.

"I, myself am sitting on thirty-four," Wrecker smirked to himself.

Before Wrecker could revel the fact that he outscored his younger brother in a battle, a single blaster bolt struck the droid he was sitting beneath right in between his legs. He glanced down at the sizzling strike.

"Thirty-four," Crosshair smirked to himself. He lowered his rifle once again.

"He was already dead," Wrecker argued.

"I saw him twitching," Crosshair suggested. He shrugged his shoulders at the notion. But Wrecker only became more enraged by this.

"He was twitching because I removed all of his limbs!" Wrecker shouted. Sure enough, the droid was still twitching slightly beneath him since the main operating system located in the head went undamaged in the fight.

"Are you two done yet?" Y/n wondered. She glanced between the two of them. "My final count was forty-eight."

"That's not fair," Wrecker groaned. "You had a head start."

"I always have a head start," Y/n recalled all of their missions together where she went charging head on to defend the others. "This wasn't any different than all the other times."

"Sergeant?" Crosshair questioned with a crocked eyebrow. The sergeant stood with his arms crossed against his chest; an amused look settling over his face.

"Fifty," Hunter announced.

The rest of them only groaned in utter annoyance. This was certainly not the first time the sergeant managed to outperform them and it wasn't going to be the last time. He claimed his victory silently, relishing the looks of disappointment on their faces.

"Looks like Wrecker and Crosshair will be cleaning the ship since they tied," Hunter told them.

"No," Wrecker went to argue. He rose to his feet. "Tech has to do it. He only got like four kills."

"Tech was a little occupied with other things. Like working on the door," Hunter told him. He glanced over his shoulder to find him still tinkering away at the data pad near the door.

"Then it should be Crosshair," Wrecker pointed to him. "That last one shouldn't count."

"Wrecker," Y/n called in a warning tone. "You both lost. Admit it."

"Fine," Wrecker huffed to himself. His shoulders slumping down at his sides. "I'll clean the ship," Wrecker added.

"And the refresher," Hunter recalled. She glanced at him through the corner of her eyes with nothing but admiration behind them.

"Yeah. Yeah. I'll do that too," Wrecker agreed to the terms.

Just then, Tech clicked the last button on his data pad to activate the door in front of him. His data pad glowed green, which meant the system had been overrun thanks to his expertise. The rest of them turned to direct their attention to the opening door, seeing the vast array of data forms in the control center.

Slowly, the Bad Batch came to approach the opening to the control center. Their eyes scanned over the various glowing white tubes attached to one central column in the room. Whatever they had come for, they were sure to find somewhere in there. Now they just needed their resident 'smart one' to locate the intel they'd come for.

"Nice work, Tech." Hunter spoke. "Let's locate the intel and get out of here as quick as we can."

All of the sudden, Y/n was able to feel a slight disturbance in the force. A dark wicked figure had graced their presence directly behind them. The sound of metallic claws for feet ground against the floor in approach. The presence was an all-too familiar one to go unnoticed or unrecognized.

The Jedi General had encountered this imposing figure one other time in her life, which was when he brutally murdered her master in combat. Ever since then, Y/n had grown to fear him and never wanted to face him. But now here he was standing behind them and blocking their only exit.

His cybernetic enhancements gave him exceptional strength, speed and reflexes to outmaneuver force-users. He wielded four lightsabers (one for each mechanical arm) and often overwhelmed the jedi with them. His most intimidating feature was his height alone, standing at nearly seven feet tall and towering over most of his encounters.

"General Y/n," the mysterious voice announced from behind them.

The other members of the squad quickly spun around on the heels of their feet, raising their blasters directly towards the menacing figure on the other end of the hallway. They moved to stand in front of their own general in hopes of protecting her.

"It's been a long time since our last encounter."

Now, coming to the realization that she could no longer run from her past, Y/n found herself turning around to face her demons. Her eyes landed on the familiar figure who had slaughtered her master, feeling her heart drop into the pit of her stomach.

It was almost like he could sense her fear of him despite not being a force sensitive being. He cackled to himself, which was something else that still haunted her too. She could still hear the way he laughed over her master's dead body. She went to retrieve her lightsabers from her belt, feeling the strong sense of anger overtaking her senses.

Because today would be the day she took down General Grievous.

#the bad batch #star wars #crosshair #echo #tech #wrecker #tbb #tbb hunter x fem!reader jedi #tbb hunter fluff #tbb hunter angst #tbb hunter x you #tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter #tbb crosshair #tbb tech #tbb wrecker #tbb echo #tbb hunter oneshot #tbb hunter imagine

[letsquestjess]

The Bad Batch and Reading to Them (TBB x GN!Reader)

Summary: The Batch love to hear you read to them.

Warnings: Fluff!

-- -- -- -- --

Hunter

It had started with you reading a passage from the book you were engrossed in while Hunter cleaned his bandana. You’d stopped to express your admiration of the story, and loving to hear your voice, he encouraged you to carry on. Over time, he discovered his fondness for those peaceful moments, especially cuddled up with you in bed when you weren’t quite ready for sleep. You took the time to learn which stories he liked best, and after he responded positively to some fantasy books, you eagerly scoured the holo-net for similar titles you thought he might enjoy. 

After waiting patiently, the next book in a series you had been reading was finally released. That night, you climb into bed, leaning back against Hunter’s chest and dive into the pages. As you read, he gently runs his fingers through your hair, his eyes fixated on the way your gaze follows the words, your voice growing more animated with every suspenseful twist. You’re both hooked. When it reaches the part where the main characters take a trip on a boat, he gently sways you and revels in the laugh you give him in response. 

Echo

When Echo's anxieties become overwhelming, your voice is the one thing that never fails to soothe him. Reading to him was something you tried one night when your reassurances didn’t seem to break through the distress. You picked something random, and the distraction coupled with your voice gradually calmed him. 

Night after night, Echo's sleep is plagued by disturbances, and despite his attempts to assure you he’s okay, the evidence is etched onto his weary face. He grows a little short with Tech and grumbles at Wrecker, not meaning to. As the day progresses, you browse the holo-net in search of serene and tender poems, aiming to provide him with some comfort. Once you’re snug in bed, you settle him on your chest and begin to read the compositions. The sweet, hopeful words lull him into the first peaceful night’s rest he’s had in over a week. 

Wrecker

This man could listen to you read forever. It doesn't matter what you're reading, you have his unwavering attention. Wrecker sees this as a way to connect with you, and if you decide to snuggle up with him while reading, he will gladly embrace you for as long as you desire. 

After a while, you discovered his inclination for romantic stories, his face lighting up with an adorable smile whenever the two protagonists find love. Determined to find the fluffiest stories, you finally stumble upon one that you're confident will be a winner. While he busies himself with breakfast preparations, you settle on the kitchen counter, and he listens wistfully to the charming narrative of two souls destined for each other. The smile starts at his cheeks, a subtle twitch in the scar on the side of his face, before his lips part into a warm grin. You don't realise you've stopped reading until he turns to look at you, his blissful expression morphing into confusion. Settling his hands on your hips and letting breakfast slowly simmer, he urges you to continue. 

Crosshair

Crosshair secretly finds comfort in the way you speak, especially when you’re reading to him. He doesn't feel obligated to respond or engage in conversation. He can just listen. You first discovered it while reading an article to him you had stumbled upon, and he paused in his activities, his shoulders easing as he immersed himself in the mollifying sound of your voice. Since then, you’ve subtly slipped in opportunities to read to him whenever you notice he’s tense. 

He returns from a mission, and the haunted look in his eyes tells you it was bad. He traipses around the room in silence, removing pieces of his armour and balancing his rifle in its usual spot by the dresser. Silently, you assist him in washing away the grime, and once he's fresh out of the shower, you wrap yourself around him in bed and hold him tightly. To your surprise, he asks you to read to him. It's the most direct he's been in a while, so you question what he would like. He doesn’t care, and you begin with a passage from the holo-novel you've been immersed in. Soon after, Crosshair's breathing calms, and you notice he has drifted off to sleep.

Tech

Tech cherishes the experience of hearing you read to him. He is completely smitten and will drop everything he’s doing to give you his undivided attention. Your voice is captivating, and if you’re giving him new information, this man is brimming with bliss. 

You stumble upon an intriguing piece about the latest technological breakthroughs in ship travel, which you're confident will pique his interest. While he tinkers with the repairs, you sit in the co-pilot seat and read through the first part of the article, charting the remarkable progress and expected availability times. You assure him you’ll send him the piece later, and as your gaze drops, you catch him sneaking out from under the console, his eyes shining with excitement. He asks if you will finish it instead, since he finds your voice relaxing. Your cheeks warm at his admission, and you carry on reading while he completes the repairs.

#tbb #the bad batch #tbb x reader #the bad batch x reader #tbb x you #the bad batch x you #tbb hunter #tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter x you #tbb echo #tbb echo x reader #tbb echo x you #tbb wrecker #tbb wrecker x reader #tbb wrecker x you #tbb crosshair #tbb crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair x you #tbb tech #tbb tech x reader #tbb tech x you

[dindjarindiaries]

Senator's Shadow - Chapter 1

summary: Hunter briefs the squad on their new mission, though he’s in for a surprise of his own upon meeting the senator they’ll be protecting.

pairing: hunter (the bad batch) x fem!reader

rating: mature (18+)

tags: bodyguard romance, forbidden love, fluff & angst, emotional & physical hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, injuries & blood, trauma, eventual/mild smut

word count: 3.932k

series masterlist ⟹ chapter 2

chapter 1 ⟹

“That’s it?” Echo was even less impressed than usual. His brow rose as he set a hand on his hip. “That’s the big news?”

Wrecker let out an exasperated groan of his own. “Sarge, we don’t need a break!”

Hunter’s eyebrow quirked up. “Tell that to Tech.” The sergeant gestured with his head to their squad member who was sitting just behind where he stood on the Marauder. “He still can’t walk right. I’m not throwing us into battle when we’re not all one-hundred percent.”

“Actually, I will have you know that the ligaments in my ankle have already gotten forty-two percent stronger.” Tech finally lifted his nose from his datapad and pushed his goggles up with his finger. “As you can see, I—...” Tech stood from the chair, but as soon as he placed too much pressure on his ankle, he winced. With a defeated exhale, he sunk back into the chair. “I am still healing.”

“Exactly.” Hunter crossed his arms over his chestplate. “This is still a mission, even if it’s not our usual pace.”

“As long as I have something to aim for, I’m fine with it.” Crosshair spoke without looking up from his rifle, which he was cleaning with his usual intensity.

“Well, if all goes well, you won’t.” Hunter’s prepared for the heat of Crosshair’s stern stare when it hits him. “It’s a protection job, for a senator.”

Crosshair’s response was even more snide than usual. “Isn’t that what the Coruscant Guard is for?”

“And the Jedi?” Echo added.

“On Coruscant, sure.” Hunter leaned his shoulder against the nearest interior hull and enjoyed the long moment of attentive silence he had from all four members of the squad. It was a rarity those days. “But this mission’s based elsewhere.”

Echo narrowed his eyes and spoke in a cautious tone. “Where?”

Hunter caught the gaze of all his men before answering. “Eirus.”

“Eirus is currently experiencing an intense inner crisis,” Tech somehow had the words ready for the rest of the squad straightaway, as if he knew what name was about to fall from Hunter’s tongue. “Nearly half the planet’s population is composed of fiercely loyal Separatists who have splintered into small factions. Some of these factions have become very violent in an attempt to force their senator to pledge her allegiance to their cause.”

Echo raised his brow and turned his calculated gaze from Tech back to Hunter. “This isn’t exactly an unusual thing to be happening during this war.”

“No, and that’s why most senators are staying on Coruscant longer than they used to.” Hunter’s hand slid down to his hip as he recalled the details of the short briefing. “Because of the crisis on Eirus, the senator is traveling on-world in an attempt to reach a compromise and bring an end to the violence.”

“Sounds dangerous,” Wrecker commented. He let out a hearty chuckle and shoved the shoulder of his nearest brother, who just so happened to be Crosshair. “I like this senator already!”

“She’s not the one who will have to fight if things go sideways, Wrecker,” Crosshair reminded him in his usual cool tone. The corner of his mouth began to rise as he went on. “That’s what we’ll be there for.”

“Right.” Hunter began to relax a bit as he watched the squad warm up more to the mission. “I told you it was a break because it’s a change in pace, but don’t worry boys.” Hunter pushed himself off the hull and nodded as his lips stretched in a satisfied smile. “I have a feeling we’ll still be seeing some action.”

“So, I will get to shoot something?” Crosshair cocked his rifle with a hopeful twinkle in his eye.

“And I’ll get to blow something up?” Wrecker set a hand on Crosshair’s shoulder again as he stepped forward. Crosshair shot him a disapproving look.

“That depends.” Hunter drew his blaster from his holster and flipped it a few times in his grasp, though the latter movement was subconscious. “We’re on a struck stun-only policy.”

“What?” Wrecker gasped with surprise. “Why? What if there’re droids?”

“Seeing as we are soldiers of the Republic, using live rounds on the people of Eirus would only escalate the issue the senator is trying to resolve,” Tech answered. “We would be giving the Separatist population another reason to justify their actions against the Republic.”

“And as far as our intel goes, no Separatist forces have made their way to Eirus,” Hunter added, holstering his blaster.

“Yet.” Echo spoke the word that hung in the air between the five of them.

“We’ll have a better idea of exactly what we’re up against when we get there.” Hunter shifted to face Tech. “For now, we have to head to Coruscant to meet the senator.”

Tech nodded, spinning around in the pilot’s chair to chart a course. The squad began to break off as the sergeant sat in the open co-pilot’s chair beside Tech’s. Crosshair was still adding the final touches on his rifle’s cleanliness in the seat behind Hunter’s, while Wrecker and Echo had disappeared further inside the hold.

After Tech finished inputting the coordinates, he turned to look at the sergeant. “Hunter, you know that we do not have to do this on my accord.” He looked down at his wrapped ankle. “With the bacta infusions I have been doing, my injury should be completely healed in about two rotations’ time.”

“I know, Tech.” Hunter let out a soft exhale and leaned back in his chair. He unsheathed his blade and began to twirl it around in another subconscious exercise. “We’ve just been running a lot of back-to-back missions, and obviously, it’s starting to catch up to us.”

Crosshair snorted, and Hunter’s senses didn’t need to amplify the sound to make it obvious. Hunter didn’t bother giving him a look as he focused on the movements of his knife.

“Plus, we were specifically requested for this mission.”

Tech’s brow shot up at that. “Someone selected us? For a protection job?”

“Not just ‘someone.’” Hunter gave Tech a quick glance to highlight the smirk that had begun to tug at his lips. “The senator herself.”

Tech adjusted his goggles, clearly unsure of what to do in his shock. “The senator? That’s highly unusual. Typically, it would be an individual on the senator’s personal guard who would do the necessary research to—.”

“I think Hunter knows how it works,” Crosshair huffed from his place behind them.

“You’re right though, Tech. It’s unusual.” Hunter caught the hilt of his knife and paused to fully face Tech. “It caught my curiosity. I want to know what she thinks is so special about us.”

Tech blinked at Hunter a few times. “I presume it would be our desirable genetic mutations that are, in case you were not aware, not a secret.”

“Yeah, and what does that usually cause?” Hunter sheathed his blade and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Caution and distrust. Not a personal invitation to what’s most likely the most important diplomatic mission of her political career.”

“You… have a point.” Tech lifted his datapad and began to tap around it. “I will do some more research on the senator.”

“Great.” Hunter stood and patted Tech on the shoulder before he moved out of the cockpit. 

Wrecker was already lounging in the chair by the systems console, while Echo lingered in the corner and fiddled with something on his arm. Hunter caught their attention as he stepped into their space, which made it all the more easier for him to address him.

“You boys should get some rest. We’re a long way out from Coruscant.” He nodded at Echo, who had raised his brow before he had a chance to ask his question. “I’m taking first watch.”

“Again?” Wrecker’s tone was coated in disbelief. His gaze betrayed that same emotion. “Are you actually gonna get some rest this time, Sarge?”

Hunter shrugged and offered a small smile. “Depends on how fast we get there.” He let out a sigh when Wrecker’s concern still didn’t let up. “Don’t worry about me, Wrecker. We’ll all be getting some more rest on this mission.”

That was enough for Wrecker, causing him to nod as he leaned back further in the chair and closed his eyes. His feet had already been kicked up on the console, and he was fortunate Tech hadn’t yet noticed. That wouldn’t last long.

As Hunter turned to re-enter the cockpit, he found Crosshair already standing and shouldering Tech. “We already heard you,” Crosshair assured him.

“I pulled up everything I could find on the senator,” Tech informed the sergeant, handing him the datapad with his free hand. “What I found most fascinating was the motivation behind her appointment.”

Hunter nodded at Tech in approval, and he knew better than to comment on the speed of his research. “Good work.” He looked between the two of them. “Now get some rest.”

Tech spoke to Hunter over his shoulder as Crosshair started to crutch him away. “You are aware that the brain and the body cannot properly operate on limited rest, especially with as little sleep as you have gotten in recent rotations?”

Hunter scoffed fondly to himself and called back to him. “Thanks, Tech.”

The sergeant held the datapad and made himself comfortable in the pilot’s chair. He leaned back and held up the datapad, clicking through Tech’s research. Taking his brother’s advice, Hunter first looked at the senator’s background, specifically the history of your appointment.

His eyes widened as he read the Aurebesh text in front of him. He had to agree with Tech; your ascension from rebellion leader to senator was nothing short of fascinating.

According to the history Tech had pulled up, you had been the one to organize a large group of Eirus’ population against an oppressive local regime, which had slowly taken over the planet’s government. They had covered up the assassination of Eirus’ senator, who was your relative, and withdrawn from the Republic Senate altogether. It wasn’t until your forces managed to topple their regime that you had become the planet’s senator and reestablished a relationship between Eirus and the Senate.

That only made Hunter’s curiosity ache even more. If you once had enough forces to overthrow a regime, then why did you need a Republic squadron as protection? It did, at least, speak somewhat to why their squad had been chosen. Clearly, as a soldier and tactician yourself, you had done the research to find the ideal squad for the job.

Even as his eyes began to burn from the aforementioned lack of rest his brothers had been getting on his case about, he couldn’t stop planning the ways he would pick your brain for the reason why they were the ones you needed so badly.

This kept Hunter busy for the commute. He remained on watch the entire time, only leaving his post when the Marauder was about to drop out of hyperspace. Hunter woke up the squad and instructed them to get ready, and it was no surprise that Tech was already prepared to take the helm. His ankle had healed considerably during his rest, just as he had predicted, and thus he was able to limp himself to the cockpit with a surprising amount of ease.

Hunter stayed in the co-pilot’s seat and gave Tech the information on the senator’s designated docking area. It had been a while since their last visit to Coruscant, but of course, Tech navigated the air traffic with ease. The Marauder soon began its descent onto the platform, and Hunter observed the space with a raise of his brow.

Rather than the typical red markings of the Republic, or even the white and gold accents many senators added for flair, your platform was filled with delicate swirls of green and purple. The color palette reminded him of the few lush planets he and the squad had been to on various missions, emulating the colorful overgrowth of forests and gardens. He let out an impressed huff. It seemed you were truly carving your own path in more ways than just one.

Hunter rose from his chair to collect his belongings. He secured his pack on his back and checked all his weapons before reaching for his helmet. As soon as the Marauder had fully landed, Tech did the same, and he was the last of the squad to get in formation by the hatch. After Hunter did a quick assessment of them all, he slid on his helmet and lowered the stairs.

As he led the way out, Hunter observed their surroundings more closely. They were being approached by the senator and her guards, with the man Hunter had spoken to leading in front and the others blocking the senator from view. The guards wore the same colors of green and purple as the platform, and their weapons were accented with silver.

“Sergeant,” the head guard greeted once he was in earshot. Hunter wondered if the man knew he still could have heard him at any distance. The guard stopped just a few paces away from the squad and bowed his head. “Thank you for arriving so promptly.”

Hunter removed his helmet and tucked it under his arm before repeating the man’s bow. “Captain.” He gestured with his head to his squad. “We’re just as eager to get going.”

The captain smiled. “We figured as much.”

Hunter’s eyebrow rose. “‘We?’”

The captain’s grin spread even more widely as he took a step back and gestured with his arm to the guards behind him. “Allow me to formally introduce you.” The captain announced your full name and title, and the guards standing in front of you parted to allow you to step through.

Hunter was no stranger to seeing and speaking with diplomats and leaders, from planetary royalty to the other senators of the Republic. Those types of positions always emphasized image, and thus Hunter was used to seeing some of the most conventionally attractive people in the galaxy—but this, seeing you, was the first time he ever had to audibly stifle a breath.

For once, the only heartbeat Hunter could sense was his own, the skip and then speed of it as it hammered against his armored chest.

Composure. It was a lesson he and the others all had to learn on Kamino, and it was one he had always excelled in. It was much of the reason why he had earned his rank as sergeant. This, however, was the first time he ever had to forcibly remind himself to find it.

Then he realized the strength of the skip in his heartbeat wasn’t just from his own, but also from yours. That made his mask slip for one second more before he pulled it together.

“Senator.” Hunter resisted the urge to clear his throat as he bowed his head, taking the quick moment of concealment to let the flush burn through his cheeks. It was hard to keep the sensation from persisting when he looked back up and observed that you wore the same colors as your guards.

“You must be Sergeant Hunter.” Your voice added a new layer of unfamiliar yet sweet warmth to Hunter’s chest as your lips spread in a radiant smile. You extended your hand towards him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

All thoughts and proper protocol dissipated from Hunter’s mind as he saw your outstretched hand in front of him. He took it without his gaze ever breaking from yours and raised it to his lips, gently kissing the soft skin on the back of your hand before offering it back to you. “The pleasure’s all ours, Senator.”

And there it was, another skip in your heartbeat. Hunter fought hard to hide his own smile as yours grew. Your gaze gave him a once-over, an action so quick Hunter would have second guessed it if he hadn’t felt its gentle burn. “I like your armor. It’s different from the other clones.”

“Yeah, well… so are we.” His words reminded him of the squad who still stood behind him, and Hunter stepped aside to make them all more visible. “Let me introduce you to the squad.” He began with Wrecker, who was closest to his side. “This is—.”

“—Wrecker, Tech, Echo, and Crosshair.” You named each one of them with ease, your face beaming as you gave them all a respectful nod. “I apologize for cutting you off, Sergeant. I just… I love your squad’s work.”

Hunter blinked a few times in surprise at what he was hearing. It was rare enough for such diplomats, politicians, and royals to have even heard of his squad, much less admire what they did on the battlefield. “Well, uh… thank you, Senator.”

“That is certainly a surprising sentiment,” Tech couldn’t keep himself from adding. “Commonly, the adjectives associated with our battle strategies are… less than favorable.”

“Hah!” Wrecker elbowed Tech’s chestplate, making him wince and rub the spot with narrowed eyes. “My favorite was when that prime minister called us ‘destructive.’”

“You’re not being helpful, Wrecker,” Crosshair muttered.

“Oh, stow it, Crosshair,” Wrecker scoffed. “You’re just mad that I got the last of ‘em on that mission.”

“That’s enough.” Hunter resisted the urge to sigh at them as he turned to face you with an apologetic look.

You instead offered him a reassuring nod and a soft laugh. “I think it’s great you have some friendly competition in your squad.” You looked over them with fondness. “It breeds efficiency.”

“That’s right!” Wrecker cheered. He reached over to Crosshair to give his armored shoulder a light push. “I told you I would like her!”

“Yeah, you’re not the only one,” Echo mumbled, his words only loud enough for the squad to hear. 

Hunter tightened his jaw when he felt their gazes on him and heard Crosshair’s snickering. “If you’d like, Senator, we can lead the way in our ship.” He gestured with his free hand back to the Marauder. “Just in case there are any unwanted surprises awaiting your arrival.”

“Hopefully that’s not the case, but I’d appreciate that, Sergeant.” You smiled again and nodded. “Thank you. I look forward to working with you more closely on Eirus.” Your gaze lingered on Hunter before it looked around the squad.

“As do we.” Hunter bowed his head once more. “Tech will set up a secure comm channel for us to use once we’re on board.”

“Perfect.” Your smile was directed at Tech as you nodded at him. “Thank you, Tech.”

“You do not need to extend gratitude towards me for merely fulfilling my purpose, Senator.” Hunter couldn’t help the small eye roll he gave at Tech’s words. So much for Hunter being the one to slip up on propriety.

Hunter slid his helmet back on and began to lead the squad back to the Marauder. His face burned from both his memory of what had just happened and his anticipation of what he would be up against inside the ship. He flexed the hand that had held yours as it also burned at the memory of your touch.

Maybe Hunter was more right before than even he had known at the time. Maybe all those missions really had taken its toll on them, and maybe it was driving him down a delusional spiral. He really did need to get some rest.

As soon as the squad was on the Marauder with the hatch secured in place, Tech spoke up. “That was not the proper protocol for greeting a senator, Hunter.”

“I’m aware, Tech.” He lifted his helmet and gestured with his head to the cockpit. “Get those comms set up and chart our course.”

Tech nodded, though Hunter didn’t miss the faint smile on his lips as he limped to the cockpit. Hunter set his helmet down and ran his hand over his hair as he thought about what to do next. He had a plan before, surely; he had thought of it in hyperspace on the way to Coruscant. It had, of course, vanished for some reason.

“You seem distracted, Sarge,” Wrecker’s voice broke through Hunter’s thoughts as he grinned slyly at him.

“Come on, Wrecker,” Echo said next. His expression turned from serious to amused as his gaze found Hunter’s. “Clearly, he is distracted.”

“I’m thinking about our arrival on Eirus,” Hunter insisted.

“And your reunion with—,” Crosshair started.

“Our plan.” Hunter raised his brow, challenging them to continue. Crosshair raised his brow and fought a smile as he set a toothpick between his lips. “We don’t know what will be waiting for us when we get there.”

“You sound worried, Hunter.” Echo set a hand on his hip as he faced the sergeant. “I thought this mission was going to be a ‘break.’”

“Nah, he’s just getting protective already.” Wrecker set a hand on Echo’s shoulder and chuckled a few times.

Hunter circled his jaw and crossed his arms. “That’s the whole point of this mission. Protecting.” Hunter furrowed his brow at the men around him. “Don’t forget that.”

Echo’s brow rose as he looked over at Wrecker. “You’re right, Wrecker.” He snickered. “‘Protective.’”

Hunter rolled his eyes and turned around to walk into the cockpit. As he went, he heard Crosshair say one more thing to Echo and Wrecker. “He really does need to get some sleep. He’s gotten… cranky.”

Hunter didn’t bother throwing a glare over his shoulder as he approached Tech in the pilot’s chair. He set his hands upon the back of the chair to check on Tech’s progress. “How’s it going in here?”

“Presumably much better than it has for you out there.” Tech didn’t so much as crack a smile as he worked the controls, despite his joke that made Hunter huff with amusement. “The comm channel is fully functioning, and our course is charted. Seeing as Eirus is located in the Outer Rim, we will have another lengthy trip ahead of us.”

Hunter nodded. “Great. I’m going to get some long-awaited rest.”

“Good.” Tech looked up from the controls to give Hunter a pointed glance. “I believe it is the lack of rest that caused such a slip-up in your propriety today.”

Hunter smiled at that, and part of him wanted to believe it. “Right.” He patted Tech’s shoulder and stepped out of the cockpit. Echo brushed past him on his way to claim first watch, and Wrecker and Crosshair couldn’t keep their sly smiles contained as Hunter walked to his bunk.

As he settled in, the full weight of what had happened during your meeting began to sink in. Tech had a point, as it had to be the lack of rest that allowed him to get so carried away. There was no point in even entertaining the thought of giving in to the warmth he had felt before. Potential reciprocation wouldn’t change that.

He knew what Cut had sacrificed for Suu. As the leader of his squad, Hunter couldn’t do the same. He refused to.

And the fact he was even letting such thoughts go so far caused his face to burn with a different kind of embarrassment as he fell asleep to flashes of green and purple in his exhausted mind.

series masterlist ⟹ chapter 2

#it's never too early to let the brotherly teasing commence #sergeant hunter #tbb hunter #hunter tbb #sergeant hunter x reader #tbb hunter x reader #hunter tbb x reader #the bad batch fanfiction #dindjarindiaries

[drafthorsemath]

I don't recall Crosshair’s hand twitching in this episode. Maybe it still does, but that wasn't the point of the episode. Still, good to see him with his rifle ready to kill anyone who looks at Omega wrong.

#tbb #crosshair #tbb spoilers #the bad batch spoilers

[soaringthroughthegalaxy]

Hii, I have a request for the bad batch! Could you please write them comforting a reader who is a warrior bit has breathing problems and has been feeling useless as of late? Thank you

Hi anon! Thanks for this request, sorry it took me a little while to get to it.

I hope this is okay 😊

Take a Breath

Most of the time you can keep up with your boys, but sometimes those old breathing problems come back to bite you. Thankfully, you no longer need to deal with them on your own.

Pairing: All Batch x gn!reader (platonic, but squint and could be romantic-ish. Set pre-Echo).

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: reader has breathing difficulties, mentions of stress and anxiety, it's good to talk, supportive Batch.

Butt hitting the ground with a light thud, you lean back against the tree trunk, letting out a shaky exhale as your eyes screwed shut.

“In and out. Nice and slow.” Hunter instructs, crouched down in front of you. He tilts his head to the side, helmet turned towards Tech, and the genius crouches down, too.

“These episodes are becoming more frequent.” Tech comments, prying a medisensor from his pack. “It is concerning.” He lifts the scanner closer to you, but you bat it away, cracking open your eyes.

“Nothing I haven’t handled before. I’m fine.” You insist, the tightness in your chest easing now you’ve heeded Hunter’s advice. The air is cool and crisp, filling your lungs as you try to steady your racing heartbeat. You’d all been running back to the ship before the explosives Wrecker had planted on a Separatist stronghold could go off, but as you’d rounded the corner into a clearing and spotted the Marauder, your chest had felt like it had been slammed in a vice.

“Don’t lie. You’re not fine.” Crosshair comments, his back to you and his brothers as he keeps his eyes on the treeline, rifle at the ready.

Before you can fire back a retort, Hunter’s helping you to your feet. “We can discuss this once we’re in hyperspace. We need to move.” He states, all but dragging you across the clearing, the other boys in tow.

You find comfort in a jump seat as Tech fires up the engines, and before long, you’ve left the backwater planet behind and are in the safety of hyperspace, another successful mission under your belt. 

The familiar hum of the ship’s hyperdrive surrounds you as you take deep breaths to calm your nerves. The adrenaline from the mission slowly starts to ebb away, replaced by a dull ache in your chest.

Hunter leans against the cockpit doorframe and crosses his arms. “We need to address this.” He says with a firm tone. “These episodes are putting missions at risk.”

You nod, knowing he’s right but reluctant to delve into it now. You don’t mean to cause issues for them, and guilt churns in your gut. They hadn’t been thrilled when they’d found out a civilian had been assigned to them as a liaison officer, and ever since that first day, you’ve been pushing yourself, wanting to prove that you weren’t useless and getting in their way. But it feels as of late that’s all you’re doing.

Tech finally looks up from his datapad. “I’ve compiled some data on your recent episodes. Your breathing difficulties appear to coincide with increased stress and heightened anxiety.”

Crosshair, always observant, glances over his shoulder. “You’ve been pushing yourself too hard.” He comments.

You lean back in your seat, acknowledging the truth in his words. The constant battles, close calls, and the war have taken their toll. You weren’t made for this, hadn’t trained for this. “I can handle it.” you assert, but the wavering tone in your voice betrays your uncertainty.

Hunter crouches in front of you again, this time without his helmet to obscure his features, and one of his hands rests on your knee. “We’re a team, and that includes taking care of each other. We can’t afford to have you incapacitated during a mission. Talk to us.”

You take a deep breath, meeting Hunter’s steady gaze. His concern is evident, and you can’t help but feel a sense of gratitude for the bond that’s formed between you all. Swallowing your pride, you decide it’s time to open up.

“I didn’t sign up for all of this.” You admit, your voice carrying the weight of your unspoken struggles. “I wanted to contribute, to help, but I never expected it to be so... intense. None of this was in the job description - it was sold as a desk job. I feel like I’m constantly on edge, and these episodes are just getting worse. I always struggled with breathing issues as a kid, but I could manage it. It’s a bit different now. Now, I just feel useless.”

Hunter squeezes your knee reassuringly. “We understand it’s not easy. War changes people, and admitting it’s affecting you is okay. And you’re not useless, not at all. We just need to find a way to better manage it.”

Tech chimes in, his analytical mind already processing possible solutions. “I can modify your schedule and integrate more downtime and calming activities. Perhaps a more structured routine will help manage your anxiety levels.”

Crosshair remains silent, but his expression softens. Despite his gruff exterior, he’s invested in your wellbeing.

You nod appreciatively at Tech’s suggestion, grateful for the practical approach. “I’m willing to try anything. I just don’t want to be a liability.”

Hunter leans in, his voice low and comforting. “You’re not a liability. We look out for each other. We need you at your best, both for yourself and for the success of our missions.”

“And we don’t want ya passin’ out on us during a mission. I mean, I’ll carry ya, but it ain’t good for anyone.” Wrecker adds.

Snorting in amusement, you offer the four of them an appreciative smile. “Thank you. I’m sorry I didn’t mention it sooner.”

Hunter gives you a small smile in return. “No need to apologise. We’re in this together. Now, let’s figure out a plan to make things more manageable for you. We’ll make adjustments, ensure you have time for self-care, and maybe even find a few ways to lighten the mood around here.”

Tech, always practical, pulls out his datapad again. “I’ll create a detailed schedule incorporating mission-related tasks and designated relaxation periods. It’s essential to strike a balance. I shall also look into creating a monitoring device to keep track of your heart rate, blood oxygen levels, and other vitals. That way, we may be warned before you experience an episode and can act accordingly.”

The boys set to work, each using their unique skills to devise a plan that addresses your needs. Tech busies himself with the schedule and monitoring device, Crosshair takes charge of scouting suitable downtime locations on planets you visit, Wrecker suggests incorporating more recreational activities, and Hunter ensures that mission objectives are still met but in such a way as to minimise stress.

As days pass, the changes begin to make a noticeable difference. The new routine allows you to anticipate and manage your symptoms better, and the support of the boys makes the burden easier to bear.

During downtime on a lush, green planet, Crosshair leads you all to a serene lake surrounded by tall trees. You sit by the water’s edge, feeling the cool breeze and enjoying a rare moment of tranquillity. Wrecker, ever the enthusiast, suggests a dip, and soon, laughter echoes through the clearing as he tosses Hunter and Crosshair into the water.

Before he can be thrown into the lake, too, Tech discreetly hands you the monitoring device he’s finished. “This should provide us with valuable data. We shall continue refining it, but it is a step towards better understanding and managing your condition.” He explains, watching as your hands smooth over the metal bracelet before you slide it onto your wrist. It’s a little tight, but he’d designed it to enable a more precise reading of your vitals.

He doesn’t have time to double-check the calibration before he’s hauled up, thrown over Wrecker’s shoulder, and dumped unceremoniously into the water. Spluttering as he comes up for air, the ring of your laughter makes it all worth it.

As the sun sets and the boys emerge from the lake, a warm glow falls over the landscape. Hunter moves to sit beside you, having towelled off. “How you feeling?” He asks, genuine concern etched across his face.

“I’m doing better, thanks to all of you.” You reply with a sincere smile, fingers finding the bracelet.

Hunter nods, glad to hear that you’re making progress. In all honesty, the changes implemented were good for them all. They could all do with some extra downtime and a chance to feel like regular people.

The camaraderie among the squad deepens, and you find yourself supported and genuinely embraced by your unconventional family. The monitoring device becomes a constant companion, a reminder that you’re not alone in this journey.

Tech continues to fine-tune it, utilising his genius to enhance its capabilities. With his sharp eyes, Crosshair becomes adept at reading your subtle cues, knowing when to check in with you or offer a silent, comforting presence. Wrecker becomes your self-appointed protector during missions, always keeping a watchful eye on you. And Hunter ensures that the balance between duty and self-care is maintained.

As the days turn into weeks and the weeks into months, you notice a significant improvement in your physical and mental wellbeing. The once daunting missions become more manageable, and the weight on your chest lightens. You truly feel at home. The makeshift family you’ve found has become your anchor in the vast sea of uncertainty. The galaxy may be at war, but within the confines of the Marauder, you’ve found a sanctuary.

Tag list: @clonethirstingisreal @starrylothcat @cw80831 @dreamie411 @issa-me-bry-blog

Sign up to be tagged in my future fics.

#soarings ask box #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch x you #bad batch x reader #bad batch x you #tbb x reader #tbb x you #tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter x you #tbb tech x reader #tbb tech x you #tbb wrecker x reader #tbb wrecker x you #tbb crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair x you #the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #star wars clone wars #clone force 99

[secretthegriffin]

A MOST RESTFUL NIGHT

summary: crosshair often fights his exhaustion, but tonight proved to be a little bit more difficult...

pairing: crosshair / fem! jedi ( can be seen as reader as they're unnamed)

A/N : so this is basically an excerpt from a story I'll never finish. I don't usually post what I write but I felt this is special. I also would like to point out I am in no way shape or form a professional writer so I'm sorry if there's mistakes but anyways this is mostly in cross' pov. and its super fluff. with softie and slightly touched starved cross. so no warnings. :)

He sat alone in the darkness of the shuttle. All of his crewmates have been asleep for some time now so the ship was especially quiet. He held his fire-puncher with his supplies, ready to relax and clean the weapon. Most of the time his rifle hardly needed it. Alas he cleaned the damn thing so much though it turned habitual. Often avoiding sleep entirely he would indulge himself with said habit until complete exhaustion. It is so cleaning his rifle, he found himself entirely lost in the activity. He didn't even notice the hesitant figure approaching him from the shadows of the ship.

"How can you see? Its so dang dark" she sighed.

Almost startled, he looked up from the gun speechless. There the jedi stood as breathtaking as ever, standing before him.

"I don't need the light, I can see in the dark". He replied sarcastically.

Avoiding the jedi's sleepy eyes, he took her in. she wore her regular jedi robes, except she had a tightly fitted tank and shorts on as if she threw the robes over her sleep wear.

"figures" she yawned stretching her hands above her to the ceiling. cross was thankful it was dark, she wouldn't see his hawk like eyes devour every inch of her as she stretched. From her pretty face and soft curves down to her beautiful breasts and long smooth legs. Cross would be lying to himself if he said she wasn't attractive. Maker, she was down right the most stunning jedi cross had ever laid his eyes on. He keenly watched as she carefully made her way through the dark to the opposite side of the sofa he sat on. yawning once more she gestured to the rifle.

"Well, go on" she proclaimed.

"What?" He was taken aback a bit to be honest.

"Don't let me stop you from cleaning the damn thing". Gesturing once more to the rifle, but with a smile.

That damn smile. It made cross's heart flutter a bit. She could never know what she does to him. She made him felt things one never thought could exist. He hated it. Hated she made him felt this way. And yet. He hated how much he loved it. oh so much. With heat rising to his face, he smirked. going back to his business. Basking in the warm feel of her watchful eyes as he silently cleaned the weapon. He didn't quite understand why she watched. But he also didn't really care. He loved the idea of being the very object of her interest in this moment.

"Its soothing". She whispered. as if reading his mind.

"Excuse me?" He whispered back.

"The noise. Watching you...its.. Meditating" she hummed, closing her eyes.

"hmm". He didn't really know what to say, she must be especially tired.

"Can I get a better view?" Her bold question surprised cross a bit, making him stop suddenly to directly look at her.

"What do you mean?"

She huffed. her cheeks going pink as she smiled at him again, turning his insides to mush.

"Like this". She lifted his arm off his lap and gently adjusted herself to lay across his lap so her head rested on his thigh, looking at the rifle and his hands.

"Now I can watch closely and comfortably." she said quietly lifting her hands to snuggle between her head and his thigh.

"If I didn't know any better, sweetheart, I'd think you're looking for a different kind of entertainment tonight". He teased with a chuckle. Though he was not so subtly trying to hide the fact he was entirely flustered by the closeness. He couldn't take his eyes off her beautiful face. The warmth of her body on his thighs sent shivering chills through his body. Maker what he wouldn't give to wrap his arms around her and pull her closer to him, into his lap.

she giggled at his response but playfully smacked his leg.

"shut up. now c'mon, I'm trying to meditate." she insisted.

Looking down onto the gorgeous jedi, Cross gladly went back to his rifle, but not without a stupid smug smile on his face.

She watched intently as his skillful fingers cleaned the rifle. His hands were so carefully delicate as he took the weapon apart. She was surprised the mean marksman could care enough about something to treat it so. Watching as if he was an artist, it relaxed her. Sighing as she slowly fell asleep to the soft clanking of the metal.

As soon as Cross noticed she was soundlessly asleep, he thanked the stars for such a moment. His gun long forgotten, Cross silently studied her features and the gentle rise and fall of her chest. She looked so gorgeously peaceful and so serene. and so perfect against his lap.

"Mesh'la". He breathed. Gently brushing loose strands of hair from her face. His hands trembled as he ever so lightly with the tips of his fingers traced her face. they ached to reach out and hold her, but he could never let himself do that. After some time she began softly snoring. So with a tired and heavy sigh Cross tucked his arms under her, lifting her to his chest bridal style. He slowly and carefully made his way to her bunk. Softly laying her against the cot. But as he turned to go to his own cot, her hand reached out to his wrist stopping him.

"Do you wanna lay with me?" she whispered. She sounded so tired, and so beautiful. Cross sighed another heavy sigh, he too was tired. hesitating, he slid next to her, not touching her, but sitting awkwardly just next to her. He eyed her as she lazily curled herself next to his side, falling back to sleep. for a moment he thought about going to his own bed. until she reached out in her sleep, wrapping her arm across his chest to snuggle into his side. cross's heart completely stumped. He completely gave into his feeling he was never going to beat, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her as close to him as possible. He curled into her, almost melting. Soaking in the warmth of everything her. He felt so undeniably comfortable, he wished the stars this wasn't a cruel dream. As he held her tighter to his chest he succumbed to the drowsiness he'd been avoiding for so long. Loosing another internal battle. Falling oh so deeply into a blissful slumber.

-----the end---- <3

#tbb x reader #crosshair x reader #tbb headcanons #tbb crosshair #star wars meta #star wars #soft crosshair #oneshot #the clone wars #clone wars fic #the bad batch #star wars fluff #star wars crosshair #fanfic #touched starved #the bad batch x reader #clone trooper crosshair

[zoeykallus]

Hey, if it isn’t too much trouble and when you have all the energy you need, would you consider making (preferably fem!)reader x crosshair fic where some bad guy takes the reader and then after she is rescued the bad guy says “I should have killed your little girlfriend when i had the chance” id really like to see how you would express his emotions in this one, you capture all of the characters’ behaviour soooo well i love your works <3 ty for considering

Aloha!

This isn't going to end well.

Crosshair x Fem!Reader Short One-shot - The Fatal Mistake

Warnings: Angst/Violence/Tiny Bit Of Fluff

_________________

Forgive me for making something up that isn't canon (yet).

After Crosshair managed to flee Hemlocks facility, he reunited with you, after months of being missing. The Doctor doesn't take it too well, especially since Tarkin is watching this failure critically.

Hemlocks spies know about you, and he gets hold of you. As Crosshair tries to free you, things turn ugly.

___________________

The Fatal Mistake

After the sound of gunshots fades, it is eerily quiet for a long moment. A deceptive silence that seems almost peaceful. Until a voice familiar to you breaks the silence.

Crosshair snarls, "You're in over your head, Doctor."

Hemlock knows what Crosshair can do, and yet he feels superior, his movements deliberate, slow and confident, like those of a predator. His posture carries the arrogance typical of a bully who feels superior to his victim.

He has you handcuffed in front of him like a shield, he is sure that he holds all the cards at the moment, even if Crosshair has taken out his men, and he is facing the Sniper alone.

"I don't think so," Hemlock replies in his calm, low voice, almost purring, "I have someone very close to your heart here, as you can see, and I intend to take advantage of the situation."

Crosshair tilts his head slightly forward, his gaze piercingly fixed on Hemlock, almost like a bull ready to charge at any moment. There's so much hatred in his amber eyes that even you feel it run down your spine, though you know that hatred isn't for you at all.

"Bringing her into this was a big mistake. If you take her from me, I have nothing left to lose, and I will walk over dead bodies to get her back," he growls.

Hemlock has one hand on your shoulder, with the other he points to the dead on the ground, the bullet holes still smoking.

"Yeah, I saw that. You've always been willing to take lives, even innocent lives, without hesitation, from what I've heard."

Crosshair grits his teeth, avoiding looking at your face for fear of the judgment that might lie within. He is well aware of his mistakes, and they've kept him up many a night.

"Those were different times, different circumstances," he says reluctantly.

Hemlock smiles and says unapologetically, "Tell yourself that if it makes you sleep better at night. But in fact, I know you hardly slept in the weeks before you were brought to me. Guilt?"

Crosshair doesn't dignify that question with a response, but instead demands, "Let her go."

You listen to the men, nervously. You know that your life or death is being decided here. You feel Hemlock's hand on your shoulder and the handcuffs cutting into the skin of your wrists.

A few minutes ago you thought you were lost, but Crosshair really showed up, he really came to save you. Fear and joy mix. You trust him, you trust that he will do the right thing. You force yourself to take a breath, to trust that Crosshair has the situation under control.

"Tell yourself that if it makes you sleep better at night. But in fact, I know you barely slept in the weeks before you were brought to me. Guilt?"

"Let her go."

You know about the conflict Crosshair still fights with himself regarding past actions of his. You don't judge him, even though the realization when you first learned some things was a shock.

Crosshair raises his rifle and Hemlock's hand shoots from your shoulder to your neck, pulling you closer to him. He doesn't strangle you, but the grip is firm enough to be uncomfortable. Both men are more than tense.

"Get your hands off her, now!"

"I'm inclined to take them from you just to see how far I can break you," Hemlock says, laughing softly.

You hear a gunshot, you feel Hemlock flinch behind you the next moment and let you go. Hastily, you dash forward and behind Crosshair, who hastily comes towards you and pushes you behind him.

The sniper growls, "There's a reason my name is Crosshair, you should know that, Hemlock. You didn't really think you could use her as a shield, did you?"

Hemlock lies on the ground, one hand, on the side of his neck, looking up at the two of you. He's not mortally wounded, probably would survive this. He looks at you, a biting smile on his lips as he says, "You cost me so much, the respect of my superiors, my project, everything. I should have killed her when I had the chance, only to see in your face how you are breaking inside."

Crosshair growls and slowly leans over him, like a predator sure of its prey.

"You won't get another chance at this"

The muzzle of the rifle tilts toward Hemlock's face. Hastily, you look away as Crosshair pulls the trigger several times at once. You smell burning skin, and flesh, and shake yourself. Automatically, you take a few shaky steps away from Hemlock, who is now lying dead on the ground, to escape the smell.

Crosshair hurriedly follows you, you hear him close behind you, "Are you hurt?"

You shake your head and say softly, "No, just still in a bit of shock."

Very slowly, almost tentatively, Crosshair grabs your shoulder, turns you around to face him and looks at you scrutinizing. His amber eyes roam over your face.

"Are you sure?" he asks gently.

You nod and say just as gently, "Thank you for saving me."

Crosshair relaxes a little, a small smirk twitching at the corners of his mouth, barely noticeable, but you know him well enough to see it. He kisses your temple, long and tenderly, maintaining contact for quite a while, a rare gesture.

"Of course. Anytime, Kitten."

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

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#crosshair x reader #star wars #the bad batch #clone force 99 #tbb #sw tbb #bad batch crosshair #clone trooper crosshair #commander crosshair #crosshair #crosshair bad batch #crosshair tbb #crosshair the bad batch #crosshair x you #tbb crosshair #tbb crosshair x reader #the bad batch crosshair #ct 9904 #tbb crosshair x you #the bad batch fanfic #star wars the bad batch #star wars: the bad batch #the bad batch fanfiction #the bad batch x reader #oneshot #Crosshair saving reader #Savior trope #hemlock

[kybercrystals94]

Sacrifice and Loyalty

Read here on Ao3!

Angstpril 2024 | Day 12 | Prompt 12: A Little Too Late

Rated: G | Words: 561 | Summary: Missing scene between episodes 3x11 and 3x12. | Character Focus: Crosshair, Hunter

Spoilers for Season 3 Episodes 11 & 12

The moment Hunter slips through the door, he knows something is desperately wrong. The needled talons of dread claw up his throat from the pit of his stomach. He tries to swallow it back, but it lodges tightly just behind his tongue. 

Hunter takes in the occupants of the space. Wrecker, still unconscious, and Crosshair, sitting next to him with his rifle propped at the ready against his thigh. Their sister’s absence is cavernous. 

“Where’s Omega?” Hunter asks. 

Crosshair’s shoulders rise and fall as he takes a deep breath. He stands, leaning his rifle against the wall, and turns to face Hunter head on.   

“Omega turned herself in.” Crosshair states it, voice pressed flat of emotion. His hand trembles at his side, unchecked, as Crosshair looks anywhere but Hunter’s face. “She…” his dull voice catches, “She did it to save Pabu. They wouldn’t have stopped searching until they found her. It was only a matter of time.” He glances down, notices his hand and grips it in the other. “I tried to reason with her. She knew the risks.

“But I failed to protect her,” Crosshair continues. “I was supposed to get a tracker on the ship, but I missed. I missed, and she doesn’t know. She trusted me to make the shot, and I missed.” He fists his trembling hand. “I’m sorry, Hunter.”

The initial, reactive twist of Hunter’s features as the news settles is hidden behind his helmet. They just got her back, and the Empire snatched her away again. Righteous anger burns deep, and it takes every piece of Hunter’s exhausted resolve not to become violent, to throw something, break something, destroy something. It isn’t fair, what this galaxy has taken from them, has done to them, over and over again. 

Hunter takes a staggered step forward, and Crosshair flinches. It is subtle, almost imperceptible. But Hunter sees it, and his heart fractures further. His anger does not extend to Crosshair. How could it, when he sees his own turmoil and regret reflected in his little brother’s averted eyes? Hunter puts his anger away, thrusts it into the darkest corner of his mind to fester, and reaches up to take off his helmet. Crosshair’s gaze slides over to meet his as soon as his face is exposed. 

“I know you did everything you could,” Hunter says. He swallows. There is no comfort in the truth, just the reality. “Omega would have gone with or without you backing her up.” 

Hunter remembers seeing his sister after he and Wrecker were captured, small and fierce, energy bow drawn, refusing to hide away if there was any possibility of saving her brothers. Omega isn’t a soldier, but loyalty and sacrifice are saturated in her blood. Just like Tech. 

Naked surprise twitches Crosshair’s expression before settling back into careful neutral. He nods stiffly, looking away. “She put the people of Pabu before herself, risked everything so that we might find Tantiss. I was ambushed by troopers when I was lining up the shot for the tracker. I…I couldn’t recover my position in time…”

Hunter rests a hand on Crosshair’s pauldron. “Omega won’t blame you, Cross. I don’t blame you. We’ll find her again.” 

Crosshair swallows visibly and steadies himself before looking Hunter in the eye again. A small, despondent smile quirks the edge of his lips. “Not if she finds us first.” 

END

Heading into the next third of our prompts! Make sure you check out all of @the-little-moment and @just-here-with-my-thoughts contributions to Angstpril! They are amazing!! Here's an easy list of our first 10 prompt fills!

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Tag List: @followthepurrgil @isthereanechoinhere96 @amorfista @mooncommlink @arctrooper69 @nagyanna424 @proteatook @ezras-left-thumb @merkitty49

#angstpril2024 #day 12 #prompt 12 #a little too late #the bad batch #the bad batch season 3 spoilers #star wars #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #tbb crosshair #tbb hunter #missing scene #angst #brothers #hurt no comfort #fics by kyber

[n0cturna1-m3]

Hypothermia & Bad Habits | John "Soap" MacTavish x Male Reader | Angst/Fluff

Fem/Minors DNI

Warnings; Violence, somewhat detailed hypothermia side effects, loss of consciousness, mentioned smoking, injury

A/N; I don't think that this is angsty, but I guess it might be?? idk, you tell me. Also, the injuries MC sustains is not mentioned again only because I fucking forgot 💀

MC's codename is Lynx, based off the animal. I had the Siberian Lynx in mind.

2k words (about)

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

It was well below freezing, even colder because of the windy night, and Y/N could feel it even through his thick clothing. Not even his wool socks aided in his suffering. His hands were so cold that they felt hot, being bare to hold his Bambetov SV.

He was lying on his stomach on the outskirts of the forest that shielded the desolate base, patiently waiting for the target he was required to shoot before the rest of task force 141 could proceed, but it was becoming draining. Snow was quickly piling up over him, sticking to his eyelashes and decorating his gun.

141 was nearby, ready to push inside when they heard the boom of Y/N’s gun, but he didn’t know their coordinates, and he couldn’t remember where he started. His head was foggy and his legs were numb and his shoulders shook slightly, his breathing becoming uneven as the minutes passed. How long had he been out there? Maybe an hour.

“Lynx, how copy?” Ghost’s voice spoke through his walkie. It was muffled from being sandwiched between Y/N’s chest and the thick layer of powder beneath him. He moved his hand carefully to disturb as little of the pristine white and grabbed the speaker, pressing a button on the side and opening his mouth. His teeth started clattering immediately.

“Feckin’ f-freezin,” He said quietly, his hand returning to its previous position. He took a couple of shallow breaths and closed his eyes. When he opened them everything was blurry. "I need a cigarette.”

“Have you seen him yet?” Ghost asked, ignoring Y/N's complaints. Y/N scrunched his eyebrows together and squeezed his eyes shut tight before opening them, his vision clearing slightly.

“Uh, no, not yet. Hopefully soon,” He said in a hushed tone. “I’m having trouble-” Y/N stopped abruptly as the door opened, a tall, broad man in a thick fur coat and an ushanka stepping out into the cold night. Y/N watched him pull a box of cigarettes from his pocket and put one in his mouth.

“What?” Ghost said, shuffling on the other end of the line. Y/N shushed him and aimed, closing one eye and leaning into the scope, slowly angling it so the crosshair was over the man’s face. He eyed him as he flicked open his lighter and leaned into it, getting a good shot of his temple and pulling the trigger when he looked back up. The bullet went straight through his left eye and into his skull. The wall splattered with blood, snow soon turning red when he collapsed into the crystal ice, staining its beauty. The forest echoed from the sound, Y/N cocking the rifle again and pointing to the door, waiting for his soldiers to run out the door with their guns.

“Got him,” Y/N said, shooting the first man to run out the door in between his collarbone and Adam's apple. He heard ghost say something, but it rang on deaf ears as he cocked it again and shot a shorter man who was frantically looking around. He caught a glimpse of Gaz sneaking through a side door, but he was paying more attention to the man pointing a pistol at him. They shot at the same time, Y/N getting him in the chest and the Russian sending it into his shoulder. Y/N grunted but cocked it again, his second shot hitting the middle of his forehead.

He could hear the team sharing information as they searched the building for the documents, taking out whoever they had to on the way, but Y/N could barely understand anything, only catching random words that didn’t make sense to him. He didn’t even register the second shot from an AKU-12 that pierced his shoulder. It felt like a bee sting. He shot the last one outside. The rest must be inside trying to take care of the team.

Letting his head hang forward, burying it in the snow that continued to fall, covering him further. He was finally starting to feel warm. The snow on him was bleeding, and the front of the building was just as bad if not worse. It looked like a massacre; a disgusting mess of red amidst the beauty of snow, of serenity. He lost consciousness at that moment, waking up about 15 minutes later. Soap was shouting over the walkie, Y/N catching bits and pieces after hearing his codename.

“Y/N, how copy? Where are… something…”

Y/N grunted and slurred something that was a jumble of “snow,” “cold,” and “outside.”

“What? Repeat… clearly…”

Y/N huffed in response. In his foggy mind, he had assumed that he was making fun of his accent again.

“Gobshite,” He muttered.

Soap scoffed and asked him another question, but Y/N was gone again, face-first into the snow. When he came around next, someone was hauling him up and wrapping their arm around him, another person taking his right side. Y/N’s feet dragged behind him as he was brought to the heli and lifted on, losing consciousness again.

The prying open of one eye had him groaning, a bright light shining into it. He grabbed the person's wrist and squeezed. They exclaimed at his freezing hands and called out an order that he didn’t understand. Something about hot water.

Someone stripped him of his pants and jacket, removing his linens before being wrapped in a blanket.

The next thing he felt was someone crawling into the blanket with him and feeling their skin on his, him elbowing them and lurching away. The person grunted in pain. They felt burning hot. They were burning Y/N's skin with their own. He grumbled as he was pulled in again but quickly sank into the warmth.

Y/N woke up feeling like a corpse. He was exhausted and his skin was tingling, fingers twitching slightly. His attempt to sit up was pitiful, a pained moan leaving his throat when his head hit the pillow under him.

“Easy there, Lynx,” A woman said from somewhere in the room. She walked over to him with a cup and set it on the table next to him, putting a hand under his back and helping him sit up, a blanket being wrapped around him. “You had it pretty rough out there.” He looked at her as she grabbed a small flashlight and checked his eyes. She took the stethoscope from around her neck and plugged it into her ears, taking the flat end and pressing it to his chest. “Deep breath for me.”

He took a few deep breaths as she moved it to various spots on his chest and back, stopping once she deems it enough and taking his arm, holding the stethoscope to his forearm.

“You sound good. Your eyes are less dilated and your breathing is steady,” She stated, picking up the mug she had placed on the table and giving it to Y/N. He held it in both of his hands and took a sip. Hot tea with a plethora of honey. It tasted of raspberry, strawberry, and flowers. He hummed when it went down his throat. “You scared the team pretty bad. Lucky that they got me on the phone. Meeting you at the heli was a sight to see.” Y/N looked at her questioningly as he took another sip.

“You were limp and naked, save for your boxers. You needed skin contact to warm up quicker,” She explained. “Soap was the same, he had volunteered. His teeth were chattering while he pulled on his pants, it was fantastic. I doubt Gaz will let that go,” She chuckled. Y/N could imagine the scene folding out, likely Price and Ghost helping him onto the truck while Gaz laughed at Soap hopping his pants on. A small smile crept onto his face. “You should probably get some rest. Finish that, and I’ll have one of the guys bring you dinner later.”

Y/N nodded and slumped forward as he sipped on the drink, hearing the door click as she left. His mind wandered as he stared mindlessly at the wall in front of him before finishing the cup and placing it to his side, shuffling under the blankets and covering his head. He was out like a light in an instant.

Soap gave Y/N a shove, holding a bowl of tomato soup in one hand. He grumbled and dug further into the comforter, grunting when Soap pulled the blanket off his head.

“Sit up Y/N, I’ve got your dinner,” He said. Y/N huffed and sat up, scooting back and leaning against the wall, keeping one of the wool blankets wrapped around his shoulders. He put his hands out to hold the bowl, Soap handing it to him and pulling up a chair to sit with him. “You gave us quite the scare.” Y/N hummed in response, not bothering with the spoon and bringing the bowl to his lips. “God, you eat like a pig,” Soap laughed, wincing when Y/N playfully slapped the side of his head.

Y/N returned to his soup, drinking it loudly. A bit ran from the corner of his mouth down his chin. Who could have guessed that hypothermia and passing out for almost an entire day would famish someone? Soap crossed his arms and leaned back as he examined Y/N. He had his colour back which made him relieved.

When he finally lowered the bowl from his lips it was empty. He licked his lips and placed the bowl on the table next to the empty mug and looked at Soap who laughed at him.

“You’ve got soup right about here,” He mocked, motioning to his own mouth. Y/N used the back of his hand to wipe it off and licked it off. “You’re disgusting,” Soap muttered, shaking his head.

“Trasna ort féin,” He grumbled. Soap looked at him with a sceptical face.

“What’d you just say?” He asked.

“Nothin,” He responded, wrapping his blanket around himself tighter. Soap nodded sarcastically. “Aye, I heard you hugged me naked, that true?”

Soap put his head in his hands, laughing while shaking his head. “Yeah, I suppose so. You were fucking freezing! And you hit me!” He laughed.

“Sorry,” Y/N mumbled half heartedly , closing his eyes for a moment.

“You really did scare us though.” Y/N opened them and turned to look at the brunette. He looked upset. “You scared me.”

“The weather changed suddenly, it was unexpected.”

“I don’t want to lose you, Y/N,” He said, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows. Y/N frowned and reached out to grab Soap, pulling him in for a hug and wrapping his arms around him.

“Sorry, Johnny,” Y/N murmured, Johnny’s forehead resting on his shoulder as he took a shaky breath, sitting on the edge of the cot. Y/N patted his back a few times before pulling back and grabbing Johnny’s face in his hands, looking into his eyes. “I won’t scare you again.”

“Can you make that a promise?” He asked, one of his hands cupping Y/N’s

“No promises,” He said, grinning. Y/N leaned in and kissed him on the lips, Johnny reciprocating it instantly. His shock of Y/N sharing these feelings was outweighed by his lips. He had wanted this for so long. Y/N pulled away and pressed a kiss to his forehead and adjusted his hand placement to pepper kisses on his cheeks, eventually making his way back to Johnny’s lips and kissing him quickly. “Does that make up for it?”

"Yeah,"He whispered, nodding and leaning forward, burying his face in Y/N’s chest, the latter wrapping his arms around him and leaning back. Y/N decided that he likes this feeling more than cigarettes at that moment.

#x male reader #these mfs fags #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #i HATE gay people #soap x male reader #john mactavish #john mactavish x male reader #john mactavish x reader #cod mw22 #cod x reader #cod x male reader #gay

[masterjedilenawrites]

Hello! Is it okay if I can request Crosshair being father figure to self conscious and scared reader?

Hope it's okay that I'm using this prompt to continue the next part of my "Protecting a Princess" story!

The Bad Batch & Princess!Reader | 2k words

Content: Reader feeling some emotions, handling weapons, disappointed Hunter, Crosshair comforts in his own way

Also yes, the Marauder is a magical Mary Poppins bag of a ship with endless space for whatever emotional moment needs to play out.

You had cried yourself to sleep, waking up an undeterminable amount of time later with swollen eyes and an aching chest. But these men never seemed to sleep.

They were a bustling mess of activity for hours. Tech was picking over the droid parts, disassembling them all across the ship in some sort of vague effort to "better understand them." Apparently they were different than other droids they'd seen, though you didn't understand how as Tech brushed off his team's questions, unable to talk much while he was working. Hunter and Echo paced around the cockpit, throwing out all possible explanations for the odd series of events they'd encountered so far in an effort to identify which could make the most sense, and to figure out what they could possibly do about it. Wrecker couldn't seem to decide what to do, flitting between various activities such as working out, disassembling some weapons, and pulling snacks out of hiding spots from around the ship. Only Crosshair stayed quiet, keeping to himself in his own bunk as he slowly and methodically cleaned every piece of his rifle.

You wanted to cry again, and the longer you held in your tears, the worse you felt. You knew it was only a matter of time before it all came exploding out of you, and that seemed far too dramatic than what you actually felt. You felt embarrassed, for sure. Guilty, even. You didn't like being thought of as a silly girl who got into trouble because she wouldn't listen. That was juvenile. You were better than that. So you would not be throwing a tantrum, thank you very much.

You were also scared, though you weren't quite ready to admit that one yet. A simple trip to the capital had already turned into a mess, full of missing stations and experimental battledroids. Were you really prepared to handle any of this? Were you really the best person for this task?

Try as you did to hold them back, the tears still needed to come out. You didn't want to risk doing it in your bunk again. The boys had left you alone before, but now you could see Hunter glancing over at you every so often. He wore a look you recognized from your parents, one that said We need to talk. You'd definitely need to release another good cry from your system before that happened.

There didn't seem to be any private place to do so on this ship, other than the tiny refresher in the corner. After much debating on whether you could get away with steeling yourself in there for a moment, you finally slithered to the edge of your bunk.

But you were surprised by a figure jumping in front of you. Crosshair. He'd dropped down from his bunk and was now standing in front of you, another toothpick between his teeth. He seemed to be considering something, probably how pathetic you looked with red eyes and bedhead.

"Let's go for a walk."

You blinked up at him, not sure if you heard correctly.

"A walk?" Even with Tech's project out of the way, there wouldn't much room on the ship to walk around.

He didn't provide clarification, instead turning heel and started picking his way through Tech's mess of parts on the ground. You got up and followed him, partly out of curiosity, partly because you didn't want to have to interact with Hunter instead.

Crosshair had made it to the back of the ship. There was a little ladder that led up to the gunner's nest. He crouched down and released some kind of latch on the floor, sliding a panel backward and then shifting the ladder to then descend downward. He took a brief look back to see if you were coming, then he started climbing down.

You inched up to the edge of the opened floor, watching as his silver hair disappeared into the darkness. A part of you wondered if you should trust him. You hadn't always thought such things, unfortunately. You were far too trusting for your own good. Though, to be fair, you'd had no reason until recently to believe anyone would take advantage of you. But then you yourself took a glance behind you, saw Hunter at the opposite end of the ship, still eyeing you down with intent to reprimand you again at some point, and you decided you'd much rather follow Crosshair into the dark bowels of the ship.

It was a quick climb down, and by the time you made it, Crosshair had turned on the strip lighting along the baseboards. It was a cargo hold, by the looks of it. You recognized a few of your own trunks, stacked haphazardly right by the ladder. Elsewhere were a few other crates and boxes. There was also a mess of wires dangling from the ceiling, a bag of some kind of snack that had made its way onto the floor, and what looked to be a pile of books atop one of the crates.

Crosshair walked over to it and perched himself onto the crate next to the books. He drew one of his legs up and kept the other dangling off the ledge. It looked like a position he often settled in, so you figured those must be his books.

"I didn't know you were a reader," you said quietly, taking only a few steps forward.

Crosshair took out his toothpick and rested his arm across his knee, playing with the pick between his fingers.

"And I didn't know you were a scaredy-cat," he said in return. It wasn't malicious or taunting, so you were able to take his words and mull them over without breaking. You did hang your head, though, and that prompted him to continue. "What are you so afraid of?"

Your hands found the hem of your cloak, fiddling with the edges like he was with his toothpick. "I... I don't know. I've never felt this way before."

"No?"

You looked up at him. Though his face was contorted in its usual scowl, somehow it looked softer, more encouraging. Or maybe you were just getting better at reading him.

"I used to get in trouble for running from home. Sometimes that castle felt like more of a prison than a home. I wanted to explore, climb trees, find new views. I'd feel bad for a bit but then I'd sneak back out again. This feels different. It's not like a fun adventure I'm making up for myself. This is real. My people... they're depending on me. I can't let them down."

"Then why did you leave the ship earlier?"

The million credit question. You lowered your head back down. "I was being stupid."

"Yes, you were."

You risked a glance, expecting Crosshair to hold a similarly disapproving look as Hunter. Instead, you found the same stoic but gentle face that was there before.

"It was stupid to not have a way to defend yourself. You could've at least taken a stun grenade from Wrecker's stash."

You blinked at him in surprise. That was all he was concerned with? Not that you left in the first place, only that you weren't carrying a weapon?

"Oh," you said dumbly, not knowing how else to respond.

Crosshair flicked the toothpick away and got off the crate, moving over to another one and popping open the top. He rummaged around inside for a bit before pull out a small hand gun.

"Here," he said as he tried handing it to you.

"Oh I don't know how to use those things." You put your hands up so you wouldn't have to touch it.

"No kidding," he smirked, amused. He gestured for you to lower your hands, and then maneuvered the weapon into one so you were holding the grip and pointing the barrel downward. "Now aim."

He was pointing toward his stack of books. You looked at him in alarm.

"You want me to fire it in here? Isn't that dangerous?"

He huffed a little in annoyance. "No, I want you to aim. Get comfortable holding it. Feel how it sits in your hands. The less scared you are to touch it, the easier it'll be to actually use it."

You gulped, still nervous but trusting his advice. You raised the blaster up, pointing it toward the books. Crosshair walked around you and gently tapped your other arm.

"Hold with both hands. Don't lock your elbows."

You did as he said and found your new position a little more comfortable.

"Line up your sights," he instructed next, pointing out the two notches along the top of the blaster, one at the front and one at the back.

You adjusted your grip and sights in different ways until you could steadily hold it and see the target lined up at the other side.

"Squeeze the trigger," came the next command.

You panicked again, looking over at him with wide eyes.

"Never take your eye off the target," he said sternly, pointing your chin back the proper way. "And it's a dead blaster. Tech took the firing mechanism out for repair and forgot to put it back in."

You sighed in relief and worked on getting yourself back into position. After a beat, you sucked in a breath and pulled the trigger. The blaster made a little clicking noise but nothing else happened. Still, you pictured the stack of books in front of you bursting in response, and though it was a little scary to think about, you also felt proud of your imaginary efforts.

"You don't need to hold your breath," Crosshair huffed. "But we'll work on that."

You offered to give the gun back but he shook his head.

"I'll find the firing pin and get it working again. Hunter may not let you be by yourself ever again, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't know how to protect yourself anyway."

You nodded slowly, thinking it through. You supposed you wouldn't have felt half as bad as you did, had you not tripped pathetically over yourself in that forest and had instead fought back until your protectors came. Though it only took care of half the problem - the other being your naiveté as you navigated this strange new galaxy - it was the most comfort you'd been given amidst the chaos.

"Thank you, Crosshair," you said in a quiet but sincere voice.

The tall clone just brushed you off. "It'll make my job easier is all."

You slipped the gun into your belt, just underneath your cloak. And then the two of you climbed back up into the main deck of the ship. Not much had changed in your time away. Tech still had a mess, Wrecker was still searching for things to do. Echo was still in the cockpit. Hunter, though, was emerging from that room and heading your way. You were about to address him, figuring if you started with an apology then his speech may not be so bad. But then you noticed he wasn't looking at you, but at something behind you.

You turned to see Crosshair's lips pursed as he shook his head at Hunter. When he caught you looking he stopped, picked out another toothpick from his belt, and sauntered away.

You looked back toward Hunter, who seemed to be deciding whether to listen to Crosshair's signal to let it go or not. His eyes settled on you and that seemed to do the trick. His shoulders relaxed and he gave you an apologetic smirk.

"Alright, boys," he called out. Then, with a respectful nod your way, "And Princess... Whatever's going on, we need to figure it out before the Senate hearing. If there's some sort of trap in Coruscant, I don't want us taking her highness there unprepared. So we're going to stop by to see an old friend. Lay low for a bit while we find answers."

The others on the ship nodded but otherwise kept at their previous activities. Hunter turned toward you with a final message.

"Don't worry, Princess. We'll still get you to Coruscant, safely and on time."

Protecting a Princess Tag: @arctrooper69, @nekotaetae, @flowered-bicycles

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#star wars #the clone wars #the bad batch #princess!reader #crosshair #hunter #echo #tech #wrecker

[webslinger-holland]

The Sergeant's Senator | Chapter 5

Summary: It is finally time for the senator to give her speech to the senator. And Echo tells Hunter about what he had seen. Now Hunter needs to confront the senator and figure out why they haven't been transferred yet.

Warning: assassination attempt, various weapons used, sniper/shooter mentioned, characters getting shot at, mutual pining, mild argument, kissing (finally), +18 very suggestive content at the end

Pairing: Hunter x Fem!Reader Senator

Type: Short Series

Word Count: 6.0k

Series Masterlist

Now, two days later, the hired hitman had received his orders from his employer. The blaster wound in his shoulder was healed, but there was a nasty scar that remained in its place. He packed his weapon away in a case, taking it with him as he left the abandoned building he'd been stationed in.

Checking the coordinates, he began to make his way there without drawing too much attention. He took back alleys, hidden passages, and stayed out of the eyes of others. The Count's words rang in his mind from earlier: "The speech takes place in the Senate Building at 2:00pm. Do not let her get there."

Just like the Count had ordered, the skilled shooter made sure to keep a low profile and learn more about them. He remained hidden in the crowds, watching their every move without them knowing. After a week, he figured out the exact route they'd take to get from her apartment to the senate building. And relaying this information to his employer meant that they worked together to find the perfect place to take the shot.

Arriving at the building, the assassin began climbing the long staircase until he reached one of the top floors. He walked towards one of the windows, peeking through the glass to watch the busy airspeeders driving below and diagonally from him. Satisfied with his position, he chose to assemble his rifle and wait for the moment to strike.

Back at the apartment, Hunter stood impatiently outside the senator's bedroom door. His arms were crossed over his chest and his foot tapped the floor in a steady beat. He glanced back at his brothers who had never looked more bored in their lives.

"Tech," Hunter's sultry and low voice sounded. "Give me the time."

He didn't look up from his data pad. "It is approximately 1:46pm. And it has only been two minutes since the last time you asked me."

"Ugh," Wrecker groaned. He proceeded to throw his hands up in exaggeration. "What's taking her so long?"

"She trying to look nice for her sergeant," Crosshair sneered. He threw a glare to his older brother, already knowing that his comment would strike a cord with him.

Hunter, always being the more level headed of the two, ignored his comment. He redirected his attention to the solid wood door in front of him. But he clenched his fists at his sides.

"She's gonna miss her time slot if she waits any longer," Echo noted while peering over Tech's shoulder to look at the time.

Finally, Hunter raised his fist to the door and knocked harshly against it. He called her name through the door in hopes of urging her to finish getting ready quicker. This was probably the thirtieth time he'd knocked.

"I'm not ready yet!" Her voice was muffled through the door, which meant she was probably on the other side of the room. She fixed her hair in the mirror and smoothed her hands over her dress.

"Well, you need to be ready now. We should have left ten minutes ago," Hunter called back. He stared down at the door handle.

"Fifteen," Tech corrected with a raised finger. "If you calculate the traffic."

"These things take time," Y/n answered. She moved a few strands of hair to her liking. She looked herself over one last time. "I don't like to be rushed."

"If you need help to...speed up the process, I am offering my assistance," Hunter was trying everything to get her out of the room. He only received a long pause of silence. He went to knock again, but the door swung open before contact.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" She teased him.

The others were at a complete loss of words for what stood before them. They shamelessly took in her appearance by allowing their eyes to travel down her body. She really was something else.

The senator was wearing a floor-length dark blue dress that matched the color of the midnight sky. Her hair was styled into curls, flowing over her shoulders. There were small silver stars and crescent moons pinning her baby hairs back.

The sergeant was the first to realize how long he'd been staring. He tried to form words, but they fell short in the process. Standing right in front of him was by far the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid eyes on. No, he thought to himself. She was beyond beautiful; she was simply magnificent.

"You...look...," Hunter began. The lavender perfume flooded his senses, which made his brain fuzzy. His gaze continued to linger, drinking it all in greedily. "Heavenly," Hunter breathed softly.

That word was not what she was expecting in the slightest. It didn't make her any less flattered though. The corners of her lips lifting into a soft smile with a pink tint coloring her cheeks. She tried to avert her gaze because she just couldn't bare looking at him any longer without blushing profusely.

"Thank you," Y/n replied sheepishly.

When he first saw her, Hunter felt all of his thoughts fly out of his head. He didn't know why they were so persistent to leave; finding it all irrelevant now. He chose to live in the moment which consisted of her and her alone.

Slowly, Hunter used his hand to gesture to the door behind them as if inviting her to go ahead of him. As she brushed past him, Hunter shifted his hand to hover by her lower back. They began to walk towards the door; the others moved to lead them out. With his brothers walking ahead of them, Hunter found himself placing his hand on the small of her back in a gentle manner.

The Bad Batch clambered into the small airspeeder on the edge of the landing platform. There was a driver at the wheel who had been waiting for their arrival. He was instructed to bring them to the Senate Building. And there was a small emphasis on their need to get their quickly.

Starting the airspeeder, the driver began to navigate through the busy lanes in the city. A few other airspeeders passed by them, flying through the air at such a rapid pace. Their airspeeder turned down another path, steadily making their way to their final destination.

In the nearby building, the hitman had kept his scope locked on the passing speeders. He knew that they'd be coming at any second; he only had one shot at this. With one eye closed, he peered through the narrow scope and moved his sniper steadily to search the speeders moving by.

Finally, the skilled shooter's eyes landed on a familiar-looking grey airspeeder heading in the opposite direction of him. He recognized the dark grey clone armor in a second. He quickly adjusted his weapon to take the shot.

"He's gonna try something tomorrow," Hunter told his brothers the day before. They had gathered in the senator's office to discuss tactics for the day of the speech. "He's been waiting for the right moment."

"But how are we going to stop him? He could be anywhere," Echo claimed. He tried thinking of all the places it could go down.

"He wouldn't do anything in the Senate," Tech explained. He ruled that much out. "Too many witnesses and too much security already.

"He could take his shot as we leave the building," Crosshair observed. If he was in the shooter's shoes, that's where he would strike.

"Or he could take his shot as we were moving," Hunter suggested this option. His arms were crossed, but he still shrugged his shoulders.

"That's a pretty tricky shot," Wrecker noted. "Moving objects ain't easy."

"Might not be easy, but it's not impossible." Crosshair corrected. They seemed to think about their options for a brief moment, attempting to reach some kind of game plan.

"So what are we going to do?" Echo questioned. He looked towards his sergeant for the answer.

"I think I have an idea."

While riding in the airspeeder, the other squad members attempted to glance at the sergeant through the corner of their eyes. The mission was put into his hands. They relieved heavily on his senses, because with a few tweaks, Tech had managed to adjust Hunter's helmet filter.

It was originally designed to numb his senses so he wouldn't be so overwhelmed. However, it was now changed to only pick up the smallest sounds. He wasn't able to hear the others talking or even the other airspeeders zooming past them. He focused heavily in order to hear the sound of subtle movement.

Then Hunter heard it: The sound of a rifle being cocked.

"Now!" Hunter signaled them.

The shooter's finger rested against the curve of the trigger, lining up his shot so he wouldn't miss. He squeezed the trigger to fire his shot, watching the red blast come shooting out of the rifle.

Just in time, Hunter had managed to push the senator into a crouching position on the floor of the speeder. He moved his head slightly to the right, barely missing the blaster shot that was aimed at her. Yanking his blaster out of his holster, he didn't hesitate to raise it and fire a few shots in the general direction.

The Bad Batch had been fully prepared for the attack. They quickly turned around in their place as well and fired their own shots rapidly. The shooter ducked down behind the window ledge just as a few shots whizzed past the window. He covered his head and cursed under his breath.

Meanwhile, Crosshair was using his long rifle to fire another round. His shots had gotten the closest. While Wrecker was most certainly firing the fastest, Tech was trying to take more calculated shots. Then Hunter and Echo were firing almost simultaneously, naturally in sync with one another. But none of their shots hit a target.

Having seen the shooter disappear from the perch, Hunter raised his fist to signal the others to seize fire. The shooting stopped instantly. He waited patiently with the expectation that the shooter would try again, but he never reappeared in the window. The airspeeder continued on the designated route, heading in the direction of the senate.

"Are you alright, senator?" Echo asked. He couched down beside her, offering his hand for her to take. He eased her back into the seat.

"I'm fine," Y/n reassured him. She glanced up at the sergeant before giving him a firm nod of the head. "Thanks again."

Though Hunter's filtration was still activated, he knew exactly what she said regardless of the fact he couldn't hear her. He sent her a nod back. He redirected his attention back towards the empty window, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at it.

"Was your mission successful?" Count Dooku questioned over the communication link that the assassin held in his hands. There was a long beat of stillness.

"She...she was highly protected. I-I couldn't get a clean shot," the man explained. His continuous failed attempts only caused the Sith Lord more frustration. And this was evident in his silence alone. "Give me one more chance," he begged.

"I grow tired of your excuses," Count Dooku interrupted. His voice grew deeper and darker. "I am coming to Coruscant. Do not let her make it to the vote. If you fail to finish the job, then I will end you."

"I understand, Count."

The small escort tried to navigate through the senate building as fast as they could with what little time remained until their window. They had rounded the corner of another corridor, spotting the entrance to the repulsorpod in the senate room. The senator's assistant was standing by the door.

"You're late," the droid announced.

The senator approached the entrance, ignoring the comment with a roll of the eyes. She stepped into the repulsorpod and activated it so it began hovering over to it's designated place amongst other senate members.

The Bad Batch watched the repulsorpod from a distance. The announcement of the senator's arrival sounded from the chancellor who was situated in the middle of the room. With that, Senator Rayna gathered herself and started her speech that she worked so hard on.

Despite being a little out-of-touch with politics, Hunter wanted nothing more than to listen to the senator's speech. He saw that politics was her drive; the thing that got her excited when brought into a conversation. Her speaking came with such passion which indicated how deeply her heart felt for it.

His eyes shimmered behind the visor of his helmet, scanning the way her hands moved as she spoke with emphasis. He admired the softness of her voice, feeling himself falling into a transfixed trance. He didn't necessarily understand what she was saying, but he truly didn't care.

"Uh Hunter?" Echo cleared his throat to get the sergeant's attention.

"What is it, Echo?" Hunter let out a loud sigh since he was taken out of his trance.

"I need to talk to you about something," Echo claimed. Naturally, Hunter turned to face him only to present him with a skeptical look. "It's about the senator," Echo reassured him.

Quickly glancing back at the senator, Hunter contemplated walking away to address his trooper's concern or option the stay in order to listen to the rest of her speech. Although, granted, whatever he did have to say about the senator could be a threat. So Hunter hesitantly walked away from the entrance with Echo trailing behind him.

"What's wrong?" Hunter asked. He crossed his arms over his chest.

"I wanted to make you aware of something. Something that I saw the other night when I was on patrol," Echo began. He thought about his next words carefully. "Something I shouldn't have seen," Echo said truthfully.

The sergeant's hands dropped back down to his sides upon sensing the uncertainty radiating from his brother. He saw the conflict behind his eyes and how he couldn't even look him in the eyes. He could only imagine what he was about to say, but he thought of every possible situation.

"Go on," Hunter encouraged.

"Some paperwork was delivered late at night," Echo started the story.

It was in that moment that Hunter realized the situation might not be as severely troubling as he had initially thought. His shoulders slumped down and he released the breath he didn't know he had been holding back.

"I just got a brief glance at the paper on the top of the stack, but it was from the guard."

"What did it say?" Hunter inquired.

"It was a request form--an application," Echo corrected. "It seems The Coruscant Guard sent the form to let her know that there are now available troopers. Should she apply and request them."

"Which means..." Hunter now made the connection.

"We might be receiving new orders any day now," Echo finished for him.

"Our transfer out of Coruscant," Hunter sighed reluctantly. The sadness that came through his voice did not go unnoticed. His gaze lowered to the ground.

For some reason, Hunter's mind drifted away to the words of warning that his youngest brother gave him many weeks ago. Don't get too attached. He clenched his fists at his sides, knowing in the back of his mind that he should have heeded that warning. But at the time, Hunter didn't want to listen to him.

"What should we do?" Echo wondered, which pulled Hunter out of his own thoughts.

"Nothing we can do," Hunter shrugged though it pained him to admit. "Except wait for our transfer papers to come in."

"Should we tell her?"

"Let's keep it between us for now," Hunter ordered calmly. Echo nodded his head understandingly. He glanced back at the senator who was still deep in her speech. "She'll tell us in her own time."

The only problem was that the senator never brought it up. This made Hunter and Echo extremely confused since they figured she would have probably broken the news to them all at some point. She least she could do was give them a heads up that they'd be transferred out sooner than later. Even if Hunter and Echo already knew about the application form that she was given.

It wasn't until six days following her big speech when Hunter decided to come out and confront her. The whole crew had just made their way into the senate building and where heading upstairs.

The day of the vote was scheduled to happen tomorrow. The Senator of Courscant was already feeling quite anxious given the amount of time and effort she put into her speech. Besides making her speech, Senator Rayna had also met with many other senators in hopes of convincing them to support her cause. She only had to wait one more day.

Just as the senator was about to head into the senate room, Hunter managed to get her attention by grabbing her forearm. He stopped her from going in. She whipped her head around to face him with a slight hint of shock in her expression.

"We need to talk," Hunter spoke through the ventilator of his helmet. He kept his voice low so the others couldn't hear him.

"Can't this wait?" Y/n wondered.

"When were you planning to tell us about the transfer?" Hunter ignored her comment, having grown impatient with her inability to bring the subject up to them.

The senator furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "What transfer?"

"Y-You..." Hunter's voice seemed to fade. He studied her features only to find confusion written all over them. His grip on her arm faltered slightly. "You mean you didn't fill out the form?"

The senator felt her heart drop in her chest. She now put the pieces together, coming to the conclusion that he must have found out about the form that was given to her from the capital's guard. The pang of guilt forming deeper and more painful.

"Listen Hunter," the senator tried to come up with some kind of excuse. She avoided his gaze. "Can we talk about this later?"

Now, the senator knew that the needed to be in the right mindset to explain herself to him. Not only that, but she'd also need the time to talk with him, which was something she wasn't able to spare him. Finally, Y/n was able to lift her gaze to meet his.

"Please," Y/n whispered softly with pleading eyes.

And Hunter couldn't say no. His fingers relaxed against her forearm, slipping down the length of her arm. This action only brought a shiver to run down her spine. Her eyelashes fluttered up at him. His hand took hold of her gently, giving it a gentle squeeze as if to communicate understanding.

With great hesitation, Senator Rayna began walking towards the entrance of the senate room. The other senators were waiting for her and preparing for the start of the session. She glanced over her shoulder to steal a glance at her sergeant one last time.

Upon returning to the senator's place of living, Hunter opened the door for her to enter. She walked into the room without sparing him a glance. Just as the other members went to walk in, Hunter stopped them by raising his hand. Each of them looked at their sergeant with a hint of confusions behind their features.

"I need to speak with the senator privately," Hunter told them. He quickly glanced at Echo who was the only one that knew about the conversation that was about to take place. "Give us a couple minutes," Hunter asked.

"Fine," Wrecker threw his hands up in defeat. "Just don't take too long."

"I'll...try to keep it short," Hunter promised.

With some hesitation, the Bad Batch began to make their way further down the hallway. They figured that they'd be able to find something to occupy themselves for a couple minutes. They sent a glance towards the sergeant as they passed by before he closed the door in front of them.

Finally, Hunter stood still for the first time that day. His hand lingered on the handle of the door, wondering if it would be best just to leave with the rest of them. He could feel her gaze bearing into the back of his head. He gathered the needed courage to turn and address her.

"Care to explain yourself?" Hunter started. He folded his arms across his chest to keep a strict demeanor.

"Before that," Y/n interjected. "I want to know how you found out. Did you go through my things?"

"What? No," Hunter denied. "Echo told me."

Closing her eyes, Senator Rayna only cursed under her breath. She hadn't thought about that beforehand. The form was the first piece of paper on the stack. Echo didn't do anything wrong. He was simply the deliverer. She refused to be mad at him for looking at something innocently.

"Right," Y/n said understandingly. "That adds up."

"Let me get some things straight: The Coruscant Guard sends you an application form to your apartment last week," Hunter listed off.

"That's right," Y/n spoke truthfully.

"This application form is the first step in granting you a new escort," Hunter added.

"Mhmm," Y/n gave a nod.

"Which ultimately means that my squad would be transferred out of your command," Hunter came to this conclusion clearly.

"...yes," Y/n breathed quietly.

There was a beat of silence between them. Despite the fact that the senator had cleared things up for the sergeant, he was still left in a state of utter confusion. He looked at her with a blank stare on his face.

"So why the hell haven't you taken the time to even fill it out?" Hunter fought back with a hint of venom in his tone. This sudden outburst only caused the senator to furrow her eyebrows at him.

"You don't think I've been a bit preoccupied with other things?" Y/n threw back at him.

"Oh please. Don't lie to me," Hunter scoffed at this excuse. His arms fell back down to his sides. "You've had all week to fill it out."

"Fine," Y/n waved her hands in dismissal. "You're right. That's not the reason why I didn't fill it out."

"What's the reason then?" Hunter demanded.

The senator tried to gather her thoughts and feelings. She avoided his gaze, but still felt the pressure to answer his question. Struggling to find an excuse, Y/n wasn't able to find the right words.

"I...I-I didn't want to," Y/n confessed quietly. Her eyes drifted up to meet his gaze, filled to the brim with tears that threatened to escape. "Not if it meant you'd be transferred."

"I don't understand," Hunter took a step forward. "What do you want?"

This decision didn't benefit anyone. It kept a batch of good soldiers away from the front lines, which was the best place for them to be. It also kept the senator from receiving the needed help from guards who were purposefully stationed on her planet and who were assigned to protect her.

And Hunter saw this. He still didn't understand her reasoning behind her actions, why she hadn't filled out the form to request a new escort and begin the process of getting them transferred back to the war front.

"What do you want?" Hunter repeated a little more louder this time. He took another step towards her.

"I-I want you," Y/n's voice quivered. She felt a tear roll down the side of her cheek as she spoke with the utmost sense of honesty.

In that exact moment, Hunter's strong nature seemed to dissolve upon hearing those words. His shoulders deflated slightly at his sides and his face fell into a blank stare. It felt like his brain had malfunctioned because he wasn't able to form a complete thought with that information.

"I want you," Y/n spoke once again. "Just you."

Her name came tumbling off his lips. He lowered his gaze to stare down at the floor, feeling the strong sense of conflict in the depths of his heart. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, trying desperately to fight the urge to cave in.

Seeing her current state only broke his heart even further. The tears were now cascading down the sides of her face evenly. Her bottom lip was quivering unsteadily. The tip of her nose had grown red from her crying. Her hands shook since her nerves had taken over.

"You...you can't have me," Hunter told her steadily. "You know that."

"I-I know," Y/n nodded her head understandingly. She tore her gaze away from him. "You were the person who told me that it's good to have dreams."

He was her dream just as much as she was his own dream.

"I'm a soldier, Y/n. Meant to serve in the army," Hunter corrected her. He couldn't be her dream. "I wasn't made for...whatever you want this to be between us."

"I don't want much," Y/n tried to reassure him with a small shake of her head. She took the last step forward until they were standing with their chests pressed together. "I know that a relationship is almost impossible for a sergeant and a senator."

"Then...what do you want?" Hunter breathed out for the last time. His eyes mindlessly drifted down to her lips, lingering there for a brief moment. "If we can't have a relationship, what can I offer you?"

Slowly, the senator raised her hand to rest against the plate of his armor. Her hand began drifting upwards until it reached his shoulder. She moved it to the side of his cheek, cupping it softly in her grasp.

"Just you. For this one moment," Y/n pleaded with him.

It all seemed to make sense now. The reason why she didn't fill out the form immediately was because she wanted them to stay a little longer. Though it was selfish of her (and she admitted that) and it would keep them from the war, the senator confessed that she never felt more safe than when she was in the presence of his squad.

Their lips seemed to chase one another's movements. Even though their lips never fully connected, they grazed against one another a few times. The temptation to fall into each other was growing with each second.

The sergeant's hands found a place to perch on the sides of her hips. He held her steadily in her grasp, swaying every so slightly with her. Her hands slid away from his face, falling flat on his chest plate. She gazed up at him with anticipating eyes. He leaned his head forward until their foreheads rested against one another's.

They both felt the internal conflict. They already failed miserably in regards to not falling in love with one another. The risk of exposure would also be detrimental to both of their occupations. Should they chose to act on their emotions, who could tell what would happen?

Finally, Hunter's hand drifted up to cup the place between her neck and jaw. He held her face steadily in his grasp. Once again, Hunter felt his heart screaming 'yes' and his mind was pleading 'no.'

Eventually, Hunter caved into his own selfish desires. He tipped his head to the side and leaned forward in his place, permitting his lips to press against her own. He felt the way she leaned into his touch and he heard how fast her heart was beating.

Their lips moved against one another's in a gentle melody. His arms wrapped around her backside, bringing her as close to his body as humanly possible. His hand snaked up her back to cradle the back of her head. He had never imagined how soft her lips were.

With a shuddering breath, Y/n's lips parted slightly which allowed him to swipe his tongue against her bottom lip. Their mouths chased one another's so desperately, exploring every possible inch like it would be their last time.

Finally, Hunter and Y/n were able to pull away from one another to regain their lost breath. They gazed at one another with half-lidded eyes. The two of them basked in the comfortable silence, feeling the sudden sense of relief for finally getting past that hurdle of hiding emotions.

Before they knew what was happening, they had been able to find one another's lips once again. They kept sealed in a tight kiss since they wanted to savor this time together as much as possible.

His insistent mouth was parting her shaking lips, sending wild tremors down her spine, evoking from her sensations she had never known she was capable of feeling. He swallowed her soft moans, thinking they tasted so sweet on his tongue.

It was the kind of kiss that stole one's breath away and caused your heart to skip a couple beats. This was one of those kisses that were so filled with built up emotion that they didn't seem to care about anything else. And it was a kiss that could easily become desperate and escalate quickly if they weren't careful.

And that's exactly what happened. It became desperate.

CHAPTER SIX HERE

Taglist:

@justhavingsomefun1 @totally-not-your-babe @jedipoodoo @gyllord @roam-rs @totallyunidentified @redheadgirl @mrcaptainrex @whore-of-many-hot-men @graciexmarvel @qweenrogerina @arcsimper5 @queenofspades6 @cadihyo @jediknightjana @elthoughtzos @lokigirlszendaya @sleepycreativewriter @moonwrecked @ravenclawbitch426 @waytoooldforthis78 @left-in-the-motel-bar @fic-force-99 @ayyyy-le-simp

THE NEXT CHAPTER IS GONNA BE JUST PURE SPICE AND SMUT! THERE WILL BE A WARNING AT THE BEGINNING

#the bad batch #star wars #the clone wars #clone trooper hunter #tbb hunter #bad batch hunter #tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter x you #tbb hunter x y/n #tbb hunter x senator #crosshair #echo #tech #wrecker #the marauder ship #tbb hunter series #tbb hunter fluff #tbb hunter angst #hunter x fem!reader senator

[letsquestjess]

A Nudge in the Right Direction

Summary: Crosshair is determined to recover his aim, and Batcher is right there to support him.

Word Count: 644

Warnings: None.

A/N: Took me a bit longer than I planned but here's the little fic I promised to write in this post. Slight spoilers for season 3.

-- -- -- -- --

A resounding shot shattered through the mellow evening, accompanied by a hissed curse. With persistence imprinted on his face, Crosshair flexed the fingers of his right hand, the cold metal of the sniper rifle providing a reassuring weight as he drew the lens up to his eye. The scope shuddered, but his level-headed breaths tempered the wobble. 

No matter how much he told himself not to rush, to allow his instincts time to recover along with the rest of his body, a sense of urgency bit at him. The Empire’s relentless pursuit of Omega only fuelled Hunter and Wrecker’s determination to safeguard her at any cost and he itched to join them, to once again stand shoulder to shoulder as they did in the days before the Republic’s downfall. Skills all working in tandem, as one. But they couldn’t return to that. Echo was off with Rex, and Tech… 

Lowering the weapon, he clenched his teeth, suppressing the tears that threatened to slip free since Omega had revealed the devastating news from Eriadu. He should have been there, should have noticed the signs of the Empire’s malevolence long before Barton and Mayday. All he had now was a crushing pain and brothers who refused to meet his eyes. Whether incited by deep-seated hatred or their own overwhelming grief, he wasn’t certain. But those nights in his cell when a flicker of hope dared to enter his heart, he knew that a reunion with his squad would be far from joyful. After everything that had happened between them, after the words spoken and spat, there would always be an unbridgeable gap that would require an immense effort on both sides to mend. 

Behind him, Batcher padded across the sand, tongue lolling out and pants wheezing between her teeth. The birds she had been chasing perched in the trees and glared at the lurca hound, ready to defend themselves if she resumed the hunt. 

“What do you want?” Crosshair asked as she sat down and fixed him with a strangely lovable blue-red stare. “If you’re hungry, go find Omega. She’ll get you something to eat.” 

Batcher didn’t move, tail wagging contentedly. With a sigh, Crosshair shook his head and brought the rifle back into position. The tremors in his trigger finger spread through his hand and the gun rattled. Undeterred, he took the shot, missing by a hairsbreadth.

As he was about to lower his weapon, Batcher nudged against his elbow and wriggled underneath, supporting his arm as though prompting him to try again. Deciding to humour her, he adjusted his posture and lined up the attempt, squinting through the scope. 

The tremble remained, but he found solace in the hound’s steady breathing, harmonising with the wash of the evening tide. She stayed as still as possible and huffed out a tiny, impatient yap. 

“Okay, okay,” the sniper said. A loud crack cut the air as the next bullet sent a chunk of dripping purple fruit flying. He chuckled quietly to himself and bent down to pet Batcher’s snout. As she scrunched up her nose, he quickly retracted his hand in time to avoid her gruff sneeze. Sand spluttered into her face and she shook off the grains. 

“Have you been playing in the grass?” Crosshair questioned. 

As if in reply, she sneezed again. Another burst showered her and another vigorous shake scattered the pale powder from her coat.  

“I take that as a yes.” 

The lurca plonked herself down and tilted her head, a rumble reverberating in her throat until he obliged and scratched her favourite spot behind her neck. She scooted closer and bumped her nose to his right hand, nuzzling at his shaky palm and letting out a little whine. 

Crosshair hushed her. “I’ll get there,” he promised, tracing a comforting path down her spiny back. “I won’t let my family down again.” 

#tbb #the bad batch #tbb fic #tbb fanfiction #star wars the bad batch #the bad batch fanfic #the bad batch fanfiction #sw tbb #sw the bad batch #tbb crosshair #tbb batcher #sw tbb fanfic #sw tbb fanfiction #sw the bad batch fanfiction #tbb spoilers #the bad batch spoilers #tbb season 3 spoilers #the bad batch season 3 spoilers #bad batch spoilers #bad batch season 3 spoilers

[twinsunstars]

Thoughts on The Bad Batch Episode 5 - The Return - A Discussion Post (PART 1)

This episode was so healing. It was really something I needed. Let's look back on an episode filled with family joy!

SPOILERS AHEAD IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN THE EPISODE YET! all screencaps are from cap-that.com! (https://www.cap-that.com/starwars/the-bad-batch/305/)

(NOTE: This post is split into two posts! I didn't know Tumblr had a limit to how many images you can add, and there's a lot I want to talk about in this episode. So here is Part 2 once you finish reading this one: LINK TO PART 2)

The episode opens with Omega sleeping safely in her room on the Marauder, the warm sun signaling her to awaken. Omega is safe and happy, having the real Lula to sleep with again.

Hunter and Wrecker are relaxing in the ship with some hot cups of tea, and Omega wonders where Crosshair is. I'm happy to see them relaxing after a long time of searching for Omega.

Crosshair is found on the beach, training with his sniper rifle. He has AZ to help him get a target, and AZ is happy to see Omega. I'm glad AZ is safe too since I've been wondering where he went after the finale of Season 2. Crosshair's hand keeps on trembling, and he sighs, worried about it. It's sad to see him this way, especially since he's the guy who never missed a target.

Crosshair still hasn't properly talked to Hunter, and Hunter and Wrecker keep their eyes on Crosshair. Omega tells Crosshair to relax and be patient, as things would eventually work out. She's really being their older sister.

Echo arrives on Pabu, and Omega immediately runs to see him again. I'm glad Echo finally came, the squad really needs the mom of the batch right now. Crosshair asks, "No hug for me?" Boy really needs one though.

The boys and Omega gather near Pabu's sunset, discussing the clones left on Mount Tantiss. All they have is Nala Se's datapad that Omega took to help her and Crosshair escape, but nothing else. Echo mentions Tech, and they all look down in silence. Tech was always the one who was able to figure things out, but now it's harder without him. Crosshair looks down sadly, and I could not get over this part. He lost his twin, and he wasn't even there for it. He didn't know when. All Crosshair can do is mourn like the others, but he never got to see Tech for one more time. The datapad is also shut down, so it's going to be even harder to use it.

Crosshair mentions that they can go to an Imperial facility that will be easy for them to use, and Hunter says that he will go with him and Echo, needing Omega and Wrecker to stay on Pabu. Omega has her heart set on rescuing the clones on Tantiss, and Hunter doesn't want to risk losing her again. After a little debate, Hunter lets Omega come with. Echo raised this girl right; she knows when to never give up.

While getting ready on Echo's ship, Crosshair and Hunter avoid each other like the plague, refusing to talk to each other. Honestly, I don't blame Hunter; Crosshair performed a lot of mistakes, but Hunter would need to talk to him.

Omega keeps talking to Crosshair, being the only one who Crosshair can trust right now. Omega calls him "little brother", and Crosshair smirks and lets out a small chuckle. I swear, Crosshair was so soft this episode.

Wrecker comes up to Crosshair and hands him a large crate with Crosshair's old armor inside. They never got rid of it, no matter how long Crosshair was gone.

They arrive on the planet Crosshair is directing them to, and it turns out to be the planet where Crosshair had killed that Imperial officer, and the same planet where Mayday died. A place now buried with even more snow. Crosshair puts on his old armor, and he looks better than never before.

Crosshair sees the same bird again flying overhead, and he often saw it throughout this episode. I love the symbolism with this bird, and now Crosshair is free.

As Batcher locates facility sensors and the team decide what to do next, Hunter and Crosshair begin to argue with each other. Echo breaks up the fight, since this is not the time for any. Omega scolds Crosshair, and Crosshair replies, "He started it." If that isn't peak sibling energy, I don't know what is.

They manage to get the facility open to hook the datapad up, while Hunter continues to watch Crosshair. Crosshair knows and senses this, but doesn't say a word.

Crosshair looks around and finds Mayday's helmet, along with the helmets of the other clone troopers Crosshair had met before. He puts them up, remembering his friend. Hunter watches him do this, but he doesn't know what happened here. Crosshair went through a lot here.

PART 2 OF DISCUSSION (explained above): https://www.tumblr.com/twinsunstars/744497062228492288/thoughts-on-the-bad-batch-episode-5-the-return?source=share

#star wars #the bad batch #the bad batch spoilers #the bad batch season 3 #the bad batch hunter #the bad batch crosshair #the bad batch omega #crosshair the bad batch #star wars tbb #bad batch crosshair #clone force 99 #the bad batch wrecker #the bad batch echo #tbb #sw tbb #crosshair and omega

[jedi-lothwolf]

Whump: The Musical Day 8: Hades Town (Deals)

Fandom: The bad Batch

Summary: When Hemlock shows his face while the batch are on a mission for Rex, Hunter and Crosshair have to deal with him. However, when he catches them, he offers a deal to Crosshair. One that will change the brothers relationship for their whole lives.

    It wasn't like Crosshair wanted to hurt Hunter.

    The two weren't sure how they ended up together. What they were sure of was if they wanted to survive, they had to get into the city. When the mission they had begrudgingly taken for Rex began, Crosshair was supposed to go off on his own. However the sniper had a different plan.

    So maybe Crosshair did know how they ended up like this. His brother however, had no clue why Crosshair had been so insistent so when he almost shot him for appearing next to him, the first thing that came to mind was to curse him out. However, he didn't.

    "Fine" he had said, "you can stay."

    Crosshair didn't say a word. Instead, he just started walking.

    Slowly they settled into each other's company. They talked a little bit about what had happened between them and worked though smaller problems that still lingered between them. Then, they made small talk about the past, sharing memories that stayed between the batch and the forest.

    Almost forgetting the last years, they laughed as they recalled the time that they hid plastic ducks around General Kenobi's Venator and how every time they saw him, he always had one to hand back to them.  

    As they snickered, soldiers started to creep up on them. "Hold on" Hunter said, reaching a hand out to stop Crosshair. "Feel them?"

    Grabbing his rifle, Crosshair nodded his head. They needed to get out of there before it came down to violence. Quietly, the two men started to move forward.

    The two drew their weapons as soon as the first shot missed them. They returned fire and quickly realized that they needed to lose the soldiers before they caught up with them. It wouldn't end well if they didn't. Running, they tried to stay close to each other, knowing it would be easy to get lost in the forest. Blue and purple trees blended in with the dark skies. The dark blue bark didn't help.

       The woods were thick but the city was thicker. The brothers never were fans of the cities. Crosshair would rather be in the mountains where he could get the best vantage point and Hunter would prefer to be in the forest. It was a less overwhelming environment.

    As they approached the city, both men felt themselves become more nervous then before. It was the smell that hit Hunter first. Alcohol and sewage had a disturbing smell to them. While alcohol wasn't common, sewage sure was.

    The bright lights threw off both Hunter and Crosshair. Still, they ran forward. "This way" Hunter told Crosshair, waving for him to follow his. They ran into an alley and then they ran up a fire escape.

    After a while of running, they finally came down from the rooftops. Helping Crosshair down, Hunter took his hand and steadied him. They walked, cautiously through the neon streets. That's why everything smells like alcohol, body odor, and cheap perfume.

    Before Hunter could say a word, he was pulled into a back alley. At first, he thought it was some random bar goer or a trafficker, but when he realized it was a clone, he felt his heart drop. Crosshair came into the alley, gun pulled and ready to shoot.

    "I wouldn't." A familiar voice ran in Crosshair's ears. Hemlock. "Lower your weapon." Hunter kept fighting against the clone commando that held him in  place.

    Nervously, Crosshair lowered his weapon. Then Hemlock walked over to the man. The older of the brothers panicked as the scientist advanced towards his younger brother. "Don't touch him!" He yelled.

    The imperial looked deep in thought for just a moment. Then he spoke, "Ct-9904, I have a, proposition."

    Hunter looked personally offended by the use of Crosshair's CT number. Had it been any other case, he would have said something.

    Fear sank into the experiments skin, then to through his muscles and bones. It spread until it was in his heart. "Let him go" he scowled.

    "I will not be releasing him, however-" When Hemlock said however, Hunter started to feel the already existing lump in his chest grow. Something bad was about to happen, and he got the feeling it would only be to him. Hunter was okay with that.

    "I have a proposition, so please, listen." Crosshair, without realizing it, started to pull his rifle closer to himself for comfort. It had been a few months since the two had seen each other. The time that had gone by, should have been a lifetime.

    Now Hemlock stood only a maybe four feet in front of Crosshair. "I will let you leave, however, you can not fight for him. If you sacrifice your brother, you can leave."

    "What?"

    "I'm giving you a chance to leave" Hemlock closed the gap between Crosshair and him, standing maybe a foot away from him. Pushing his to his knees, the scientist grabbed his face. "you don't want to go back, do you Crosshair?"

    The sniper thought he might cry. There was no way he would survive Tantiss. But could he really not fight for Hunter? The weight of the fear Crosshair carried, started to multiply. As soon as Hemlock had touched him, he had frozen. The fear made it hard to realize that commandos had grabbed him and that Hunter was screaming at them to release him.

    Hunter wanted to murder Hemlock. He needed to get Crosshair away from the commandos and away from the man who had hurt him. The man tried everything. No amount of kicking, struggling, or even trying to bite the commando who held him so tightly, mattered.

    "All you have to do, is leave. Stay quiet about all of this, and you'll never return to my facility. Unless" Hemlock smoothed his thumb over Crosshair's face. "You feel you should return."

    That's when Hunter lost it. "Get the fuck away from him!" Failing to protect Crosshair, his youngest brother, was not an option.

    The clone hated actually thinking about his opinions. After a moment, he knew he had his answers. Crosshair couldn't go back. With tears in his eyes, he looked Hemlock in the eyes for a moment before looking away. Shaking, he said "okay."

    The words ran through Hunter's head. 'Okay.' He was going through with the deal. Hunter was defenseless. Hemlock removed his hand for Crosshair's face and nodded. Watching, Hunter felt betrayed. While he understood, it hurt more than he expected it to.

    As soon as Crosshair was allowed to stand, he did. Hunter saw him trying to fight the fear. Still, he was hurt. The betrayal dug deep into his heart. But, he couldn't blame him.

    Not being able to tell the rest, Crosshair was already trying to figure out how he was going to explain to the batch that they couldn't find him. As Hunter continued to fight, the commandos started to drag him away from the ally.

    Crosshair and Hunter made eye contact. The betrayal and hurt in Hunter's eyes met with the pain and fear in Crosshair's. He looked sorry.

    When Hunter was out of sight, Crosshair started to question his decision. But for now he needed to get back to the Marauder.

Part two:

#whump: the musical #deals #whump #star wars #star wars whump #star wars the bad batch #the bad batch #hunter the bad batch #tbb crosshair #crosshair the bad batch #hunter whump #tbb hunter #hunter bad batch #hunter #crosshair bad batch #crosshair #crosshair tbb #royce hemlock #dr hemlock #tbb hemlock #betrayal

[staycalmandhugaclone]

If you're new, this all starts with Touch Starved - Echo! You can read this little chunk as a standalone, or head back to the beginning for the full experience!

Febuwhump Day 1 Part 5

Touch-Starved – Crosshair - Fed up with Crosshair's dismissal of her help after a nearly disastrous escape, Doc finally snaps.

Warnings: Maybe light arachnophobia? Cursing, yelling, brief mention of injection

WC: 2,622

If not for the delicate sensors flashing across the overlay of my visor, I would have lost the others miles back, legs burning as I sprinted through the dense underbrush of the ancient forest. Fun. Yeah. I swear, next time a commanding officer called a mission either ‘fun’ or ‘simple’ or ‘easy’ I was going to strap the 70Ib medpack to their shoulders and let them see for themselves how fun it was to go racing through overgrown foliage so thick you could only hope it wasn’t concealing the massive trunk of one of those towering trees while being chased by dozens of ten-legged, very hostile carnivorous insects taller than Wrecker.

‘Scout the area for future outpost locations.’ ‘No known Separatist forces in that area, so should be an easy hike for you guys… have fun.’ That pompous old man better hope I didn’t stumble across him in a deserted hallway…

“Doc, eyes up!” Hunter’s voice barked over the com. I didn’t hesitate, body instantly responding by jerking both pistols toward the dark canopy. Those massive beasts blended in perfectly with the mess of bark and leaves, but my visor emphasized their movement and synced with sensors in the armor stretching down my arms and hands to guide my aim. From this distance, however, the handful of bolts that struck it from my rapid barrage of shots was only just enough to dissuade it from charging, sending the thing retreating to whatever web or hollow hid beyond that impenetrable layer of plant life to lick it’s wounds.  

Hunter and Wrecker were holding back the brunt of the assault behind us while Tech had raced ahead to ready the ship. Echo was somewhere near me, the ceaseless sound of his pistol the only thing granting me any certainty that I hadn’t strayed, and Crosshair laid in perfect stillness somewhere up ahead, blue bolts appearing like magic the instant one of those creatures got too close.

“There appears to be another wave incoming from the north. I suggest you hurry.” I briefly muted my com to release a violent string of curses on painfully quick, panted gasps even as I strained to force myself to move faster, hands training from one creature to the next at the relentless alerts chiming from my targeting system. In barely the span of a single heartbeat, I noted the glint of metal beneath one of those alerts, and my chest seized.

“Crosshair! Five o’clock!” The words tore from me in a panic. He was well beyond the range of my pistols; too far for any of us to do more than watch as he rolled hazardously over the branch he’d perched atop in an instinctual rush to avoid the sudden charge of the spider-like beast. The ancient tree shuddered beneath the assault, the terrible creaking of its moss-covered limb screaming over even the chaos of battle raging all around me.

“Crosshair!” Hunter’s voice boomed over the intercom just as the wood shattered. Even as he began to fall, Crosshair leveled the elegant barrel of his rifle at the creature and, with a single flash of light, sent it tumbling limp to the forest floor below. The instant he pulled the trigger, his hand darted out behind him, and I could only guess toward the desperation with which his fingers clawed into the sleek, moss-covered bark for any whisper of purchase. “There’s a vine twenty feet below you!”

The sniper barely glanced down before angling that lithe body against the massive trunk for whatever traction it might offer, rifle clasped carefully in one hand. The renewed frenzy driving me forward numbed the fire burning through abused muscle, diverting without a second thought from the path to the Marauder to sprint toward Crosshair, eyes locked on his rapid descent. I barely noticed the thin vine until his free hand snatch it midair, lower body arching forward like a pendulum for the half-second it held his weight. His mic just picked up the tiny hitch of his breath, and the rest of the forest went suddenly mute beneath it, beneath the fear in that flutter of air breaking over clenched teeth. Hand still locked around that traitorous vine, he began to fall.

Barely a dozen strides separated me from the base of the tree when his body suddenly snapped to a halt arm jerking above his head. I’d only just made out the loop of green caught around his wrist before his hand slipped free he crashed the final handful of meters to the ground.

Pistols already thrown into my holsters, I snatched the scanner from the side of my pack and slammed to my knees beside him. Before even coming to a full stop, my fingers darted out and slipped under his bucket to find the rapid dance of his pulse hammering just beneath his jaw as my other hand began the scan. Ignoring the listless flail of his arm trying to push me away, I maintained that position for just a few fleeting seconds, monitoring the rhythm while reading over the flashing text scrolling over my screen, trusting the others to cover us.

“‘M fine – get the kriff off me!” He snapped, movements gaining more strength as he finally wrenched my hand away. Beyond a sprained wrist and some bruising that would bring all manner of unsettling colors to his back, his armor seemed to save him from the worst of it. Ignoring the sharp words, I forced my arm beneath his shoulders and, with a surge of power fueled more by adrenaline than strength, hauled him up against me. He staggered beside me for barely a single stride before pushing away and racing forward on his own.

He said nothing as we ran, but I noted with painful clarity the way his right hand tucked slightly against his chest. Even if the damage was relatively minor, the pain was clearly severe enough to still even an attempt to use it. Cringing at the fresh hurt that surely tore through the limb with each stride, I tried to force my attention back to the encroaching wildlife, but the wave of fire from the others was finally beginning to allow us some breathing room.

“I want everyone strapped in now! Tech: we’re thirty seconds out.” Hunter ordered barely seconds before the top fin of the Marauder came into view. Nearly the instant my feet touched that ramp, we began to hover, and I had just enough time to throw myself into a crash seat, followed almost immediately by the others, before we were rocketing through the trees.

The quiet beneath five sets of heavy breathing offered frightfully little comfort, attention already turning to Crosshair. He glared blindly through the flooring beneath his feet, hand carefully limp inches above his thigh, jaw tensing beneath absent attempts to shift his fingers. As soon as the worst of the turbulence eased, I quickly freed myself from the mesh harness and trotted toward him.

“Try not to move it. Let me-” I started, already reaching for the swelling limb, but he quickly pulled away from me.

“I didn’t ask for your help!” He snarled, “You want to get all touchy-feely with the others, fine! But stay the kriff away from me!” For a brief moment, I was too shocked to reply, barely noting the grimace weighing heavily over Wrecker’s face, nor the annoyance in Echo’s glare as the man stalked quickly from the cabin.

“I’ll talk to him.” Hunter offered wearily, but that only fueled my rage.

“Don’t you dare.” The quiet threat in my words instantly drew his attention. Eyes shifting between me and the retreating form of his brother, his brow slowly raised in something between sympathy and skepticism. I merely narrowed my eyes before throwing my pack down and starting quickly after the sharp-tongued sniper. As soon as Crosshair saw me storm into the bunk room after him, that glare hardened into something dangerous, lips twisting into a snarl.

“No! You’re going to shut that karking mouth and listen to me!” I barked in the split second before he could unleash whatever retort boiled over his tongue.

“Or what? You’ll make me?” He challenged, shoulders rolling back as his head tipped forward, looking at me with those sharp eyes.

“Oh, grow up!” I spat, stalking forward until barely an inch lay between us. “You want to act all better-off-alone? Fine! You want to insult me and push me away? Kriffing go for it! But you have exactly three options right now!” Despite the fleeting space, I brought a hand up to count off, “Keep up this damn tough-guy osik, and I put you on med-leave until that wrist heals on its own.” I held up a second finger, “You walk into medbay and take a very painful bacta injection between your scaphoid and trapezium carpal bones.” My voice lowered only slightly into a growl as I raised the third, “Or sit your shebs on that karking cot, and let me do my job.”

He offered no retort to that, fury burning in those brilliant eyes as he stared me down, but I didn’t move, unflinching beneath the intensity of his rage. How long did he stand there, mind working for some alternative; any excuse to ignore me, to prove me wrong, before, finally, his teeth clicked from the way his jaw ground, gaze sliding reluctantly to the wall just behind me. Shoulders painfully taut, he sat heavily on the bed beside us. I’d apologize to Hunter later, but his was the easiest to access at that moment.

I didn’t try to catch his gaze as I kneeled before him, once more reaching for his hand. I just caught the way his lips pulled into a slight grimace at that first contact, muscles tensing beneath the instinctual drive to pull away; to flee, but he forced himself still. Without a word, I pulled the vambrace from his forearm before carefully beginning to ease the glove free. I could feel the slight twitch steal through his arm, but, again, he fought it.

Already, the joint looked painfully inflamed. I didn’t bother requesting he focus on his breathing or offer quiet conversation to distract him as my thumbs swept lightly in tandem along his palm both to trail over each bone in search of any hidden soreness as well as to begin pushing the swelling out of the angry tissue. I could feel his gaze carefully trained on me, eyes following my every movement with a violent distrust that robbed me of my earlier rage.

Pointedly ignoring the heat burring into me from his glare, I merely focused on my own movements, softly testing the sensitivity of the apex of the sprain and surrounding tissue to map out what I had to work with. Touch dragging back to the tips of those long fingers, I carded my fingers around each digit in turn. With a meticulous calm, I dragged the heel of my palm up his, swept the pad of my thumbs along the lines of tendons and over the ridges of bone until some whisper of that tension began to ease.

I was careful not to risk looking at him fully, but managed to catch a brief glimpse of him as my touch roamed delicately over his wrist before working into the lean muscles of his forearm. That rage was beginning to fall away, something so near to fascination just touching those eyes that left me holding my breath. This wouldn’t fix the sprain; not really, but the simple act of pushing the swelling from the injured tissue would greatly help with the pain and quicken its healing. In conjunction with the bacta patches stashed in one of the pouches lashed to my waist, I was hopeful that he would be nearly back to normal before reaching Kamino.

As I began dragging long, leisurely movements from the tips of fingers carefully supported against mine, up his palm, touch growing delicate over the swelling mound around his wrist, before firmly sweeping up the length of his forearm, he finally began to lose himself, eyes drooping as his head gradually sank lower toward his chest with each laxed breath.

I felt my movements slowing, reluctant to let him go for fear of never being allowed this moment of stillness with him again. Selfishly, I found myself returning to already blissfully limp muscles, working over each joint just once more, granting myself endless excuses to warrant a half dozen final adjustments before, with a slow, reluctant breath, reaching for the kit at my waist.

Only a whisper of that tension returned to him, eyes following me almost lazily before quieting upon seeing the basic madpack, and I tried to justify that quiet in the gentleness of my movements as I carefully secured the bactapatch against his wrist with meticulously applied bandages. I didn’t pull away from him once I’d finished, hesitating a moment before finally letting my eyes find his. That stillness lingered for a long while as he passively took in the gratitude burning through me, the silent plea screaming beneath my certainty that, the instant either of us moved or spoke or simply remembered the existence of a reality beyond this room, this moment of trust would vanish.

My arm seemed to move on its own, carefully resting his bandaged hand atop his thigh before just beginning to reach for his other one, palm held open in a quiet invitation as I let just the faintest glimmer of hope touch my gaze. He glanced briefly to my open hand, mind slowly returning to some level of awareness, and I felt that cold flush of defeat wash through me as his eyes shifted pointedly away, brows just tensing before his jaw clicked shut.

Without a word, he quickly pushed himself to his feet and stalked passed me. My hands sank back to my thighs, body deflating beneath the blanket rejection as the unapologetic hiss of the door closed behind him, leaving me too aware of the isolation that left me in. Fighting back the threat of guilt and regret at the harshness of my earlier words, I resigned myself to continued dismissal from the final member of this squad I was still trying to embrace as mine and thoughtlessly reached for the discarded wrappers around me from the used medkit.

Just as I’d begun calling some bit of motion back into my limbs, ready to finally force myself to my feet, the door opened once more. Expecting a kind word of sympathy from Echo or quiet reassurance from Hunter, I didn’t bother turning to look, unwilling to let them see the lingering hint of sadness I hadn’t yet managed to force back. The shock that tore through me when Crosshair dropped heavily back onto the cot, pinched glare turned pointedly to the far end of the room as he nearly thrust his other hand toward me left me staggering, lips just parted in a tiny gasp.

If he heard the way my breath caught as I let out a long, barely controlled sigh before reaching almost reverently for the offered limb, he made no show of it. I couldn’t begin to force back the smile, the lightness that burst through me as I gently eased the gear from his arm, overcome in that flood of relief. I knew this didn’t mean he truly trusted me, nor even that he more than tolerated my presence, but it was a start, and, as the smooth motion of my hands working over his gradually lulled him back into that blissed calm, I let myself finally begin to feel some hope that, just maybe, I could find my place here.

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#star wars #tbb #the bad batch #star wars echo #the bad batch echo #febuwhump2023 #febuwhump #comfort #touch starved #star wars hunter #star wars tech #star wars crosshair #tbb crosshair #tbb hunter #tbb tech #tbb wrecker #tbb oc #my writing #tbb fanfic #star wars fanfic #tbb fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #massage #yelling #arachnaphobia tw

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

I Don’t Get Lonely

Crosshair & Omega

Summary: After a successful rescue mission on Mount Tantiss, Crosshair and Omega share a solemn moment aboard the Marauder. (written in third person omniscient)

Pairings: None

Characters: Crosshair, Omega, Hunter, Wrecker, Echo, Tech

Tags & Warnings: spoilers for season 2, angst, lots of angst, hurt, comfort

Word Count: 2.1k

Author’s Notes: A companion piece to my original post. I kept thinking about it, and I really wanted to expand on the moment. I do write fanfiction, but not for this fandom. So this will be my first piece for The Bad Batch fandom! Please enjoy 💚

Their final mission, the rescue on Mount Tantiss, was coming to a close. With the help of Captain Rex, Commander Cody, Captain Gregor, and Commander Wolffe, and what was left of the Bad Batch, Crosshair and Omega were liberated from Doctor Hemlock’s grasp. 

Hunter ran towards Omega, falling to his knees in relief, while wrapping his arms tightly around her small frame. She nestled her face into his neck and shed a small tear. “I was so scared you wouldn’t be able to find us,” she mumbled.

“I can always find you,” Hunter assured her as he loosened their embrace to look into her eyes. He moved her bangs away from her face and smiled fondly. “There’s nothing that can keep us separated for long.”

Omega leaned forward into Hunter’s chest as he lifted her off the ground and into his arms. His gaze then landed on the figure who was standing behind her, Crosshair. Their eyes met and for a moment there was a flash of tension, but it soon dispersed as Hunter nodded his head in thanks.

“Come on,” Hunter called as he motioned with his head in the direction they needed to go. “We need to get you both out of here.” Crosshair nodded in agreement, popped a toothpick in his mouth, and ran after Hunter towards the facility's entrance. No one needed to tell him twice.

As Hunter and Crosshair ran through the halls, they met back up with Wrecker who, along with Gregor and Wolffe, had set charges to destroy the cloning facility. “You found them!” Wrecker yelled with exuberance while running beside them. “Alright! Let’s get outta here and blow this place up!”

“We can’t get too cocky,” Hunter warned while still carrying Omega. “Reinforcements are coming up close behind us. Blasters at the ready.”

Crosshair stopped running, turned around, cracked his neck, then knelt down on the ground behind them with his rifle in hand. “I’ve got this.” He took aim through his scope at the mirrored pucks he had been leaving behind throughout the hallways in anticipation for this moment.

With a single exhale, he pulled the trigger. The blaster bolt angled off and bounced through the hallways like an expertly hit cue ball in a game of billiards. One by one, the facility storm troopers fell into their respective pockets. And with a final ping of the sunken eight-ball, he cleaned the table.

“Whoa!” Wrecker shouted in amazement, as if seeing it for the first time. “I’m glad you're back on our side.” He smiled and affectionately whacked Crosshair on the back, accidentally knocking him forward. “Ah, sorry,” he apologized while stretching out a hand to help his brother up.

“Of course you are,” Crosshair snarked. He stood back up on his own, knocking Wrecker’s hand away, then replacing the toothpick that was so graciously knocked out of his mouth. “Keep going.”

“The exit should be just ahead,” Hunter noted as he put his blaster back in its holster and ran forward. He was grateful for Crosshair’s intervention. Fighting while holding Omega would be quite a challenge. However, he wasn’t ready to put her down yet. Not until she was safe on the ship.

Waiting for them on the Marauder was Echo. Once Crosshair and Omega were retrieved, he had headed back to the ship in preparation for take-off to make sure all systems were a go and nothing would hamper their escape route. It was their last chance to escape.

“Hunter,” Echo called through the commlink. “The ship is ready for take-off.”

“Roger that,” Hunter replied. “We’re coming out to you now.”

The group reached the facility exit and continued to the landing platform. Once aboard the Marauder, Hunter strapped Omega into one of the safety seats, then took a seat next to Echo in the cockpit. Crosshair provided blaster support from the side to ensure no interruptions.

“Get us out of here,” Hunter commanded. 

With a few flipped switches and pull on the controls, Echo piloted the ship off the platform and into the air. The ground troops and Crosshair exchanged blaster fire, but not for long. Once confirmation came from Captain Rex that all clones were out of the facility, Wrecker gleefully pressed the detonator. 

One by one the charges blasted off throughout the mountain, sending the facility crumbling down on itself. Wrecker cheered from his position looking out of the Marauder. The mission was finally over. Hunter let out a heavy sigh as he leaned his head back in his chair and closed his eyes.

“Set a course for Pabu,” Hunter said without opening his eyes.

“Setting course for Pabu,” Echo repeated as he input the coordinates into the nav-computer. “Jumping to hyper-space in one minute.”

After jumping into hyper-space, Hunter got up and moved back to where he had left Omega. He pulled the safety cross bar up and brought her into another tight embrace. “Hunter,” she said with a muffled voice. She pulled away with a small laugh. “I can’t breathe when you squeeze me like that.”

Hunter lurched back in surprise with an embarrassed look on his face. It was all he could do to make sure no one would take her away again. As long as she was in his arms, no one could take her again. “Sorry,” he apologized. “I’m… I’m just glad you’re alright.”

“I’m fine,” Omega giggled at Hunter’s overprotective awkwardness. However, her happy countenance soon turned into concern as she looked down the galleyway of the ship. “It’s Crosshair I’m worried about.”

“Crosshair?” Hunter wondered what she meant. 

“He—” Omega stopped herself as she tried to find the words to say without getting emotional. “Tech,” she hesitated. “He didn’t take it very well when I told him what happened.”

Hunter sighed. With all the events that happened after Tech’s death, none of them had time to stop and process any of it or what it meant to them. Attempting to keep his composure, Hunter gripped Omega’s shoulder with his hand, lowered his head, and spoke softly, “He… he has to process it his way, just… just like the rest of us. He’ll be fine, in time, and so will we.”

Omega sniffled and nodded her head yes to Hunter’s words. She threw her arms around him for one more embrace, looking for reassurance that everything was going to be okay again. He obliged the hug and rubbed his hand up and down her back to comfort her.

They soon parted their embrace and Hunter scruffed Omega’s hair to lighten the mood before walking back to the cockpit to sit with Echo. She smiled softly and walked through the galley to her room in the gunner’s nest, passing Crosshair along the way. 

Omega stopped before pulling the blanket open and looked back sorrowfully at Crosshair. He was sitting alone on his rack, staring across the alley at Tech’s empty rack. The sight broke her heart. She missed Tech too, but it was different for him. He blamed himself for his brother’s death.

She squeezed her eyes shut, took a deep breath, and went into her make-shift room. Sitting down on her blanket and pillow, she pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. It seemed emptier somehow, or at the least, less cheerful.

Looking around her room at the familiar things, she noticed her clone trooper doll near the base of the gunner’s seat. She leaned over her knees to grab it and looked at the doll with sad eyes. She clutched the doll to her chest and began to cry. 

She wasn’t sure if they were tears of relief or tears of sorrow, but they were still a sweet release from what had been building inside her since they lost Tech on Eriadu. Even when she told Crosshair, while they were imprisoned on Mount Tantiss, she hadn’t cried.

It was at that moment Omega realized Crosshair was suffering from more pain than she was. His relationship with his brothers was already strained. She could go to Hunter, or Wrecker, or Echo for comfort. But Crosshair? Who could Crosshair go to for comfort? He was too proud to reach out.

She knew she had to help him in some way. He was her brother after all. She thought about ideas on how to overcome his pride and dignity as a soldier, while also giving him a way to cope and talk about his feelings. While fidgeting with her clone trooper doll, she got the idea.

Crosshair sat on his rack, staring across the galleyway at Tech’s empty rack. He mulled his toothpick over and over from one corner of his mouth to the other, lost in thoughts of pain, regret, and defeat. It was his fault Tech died. It didn’t need to happen, but it did, and he was the only person to blame.

The image of his brother haunted his mind as he tried to reconcile the loss of his brother with the gain of his squad minus one. He didn’t deserve to be part of the Batch any longer. He didn’t deserve to find solace. He didn’t deserve the love of his brothers, their respect, or their pity. 

His destructive thoughts were rudely interrupted when Omega sat down next to him on his rack. He could see her feet dangling off the side with his peripheral vision and he huffed in amusement. If it was one thing he didn’t need right now, it was her annoying voice.

“Go away,” Crosshair said gruffly without turning his head.

Omega scooched closer to the cold clone. She wasn’t about to back down. She knew Crosshair could be aloof and downright rude when he wanted to be, but he couldn’t scare her away. She learned to understand that part of him back on Tantiss since they spent quite a lot of time together.

“Here,” Omega prompted as she reached out her open hand with a present.

Crosshair shifted his eyes to the side to look at what was in her hand. He brought his eyes back to the front and rolled them, releasing an annoyed sigh.

“It’s a clone trooper doll,” she smiled cheerfully. “For when you get lonely.”

“I don’t get lonely,” he huffed in disgust.

“I know,” she relented with a sad smile. “I’ll leave it here in case you change your mind.”

Crosshair watched as Omega gingerly placed the clone trooper doll next to him on the rack. She then got up and went back to her room in the gunner’s nest, only stopping to turn around and give him a small smile.

He sat on his rack in silence. The sound of his toothpick rolling around his teeth was all that he could hear and all that he wanted to hear. He glanced to the side and looked down at the clone trooper doll. It was a distasteful little thing, poorly stitched together, and of course, a reg. 

However, something about it had a little charm. He would never admit it, but the thought she put into it moved his heart ever-so-slightly. He stared at the clone trooper doll and the doll seemed to stare back at him. He clenched his toothpick. How could something so dumb be so enthralling to him?

He looked to the left and then the right to make sure no one was watching him, then picked up the little clone trooper doll. The helmet wobbled back and he quickly put his finger behind it to keep it upright. It was such a little thing. So fragile. So innocent. So… comforting.

He lied back in his rack, still keeping himself upright, while he fidgeted with the clone trooper doll. He traced a finger around the outline of the helmet and sighed as he remembered a certain reg. “I made it back to my squad… Mayday,” he sighed again. “They came back for me. I think you would have liked them.”

He paused, glancing at his brother’s empty rack and then back at the doll. “Or should I call you Tech?” he said softly, a slight hitch in his throat. He let out a small chuckle and corrected himself. “Of course not. You’re not wearing those idiotic goggles. For someone so smart, you did something really dumb, you know that?” 

He chuckled again, and again, and again, until his chuckles turned into soft crying. He rolled onto his side, pulling his knees up, and clutched the clone trooper doll to his face in desperation. His heart was broken. Not once, but twice over. “I'm sorry,” he cried. “It wasn’t supposed to be you.”

Masterlist

A03

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