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#hunter x cyare
a-lil-perspective · 2 years
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now I imagine the bad batch when their wives are sick.
no, but honestly, Crosshair and Dee owe my heart
Mine too. :’)
Yo I love this!! (Sorry it’s taken my forever lol ye ought to know by now how ridiculous I am) Let’s talk about the Batchers when their wives are sick—
~
Hunter: He’s vehemently assuring Cyare not to worry about a thing, he’s got the kids, just rest and relax. He kisses her forehead. He knows she’s strong and she’ll be just fine. So he tries not to dwell on it too much. Of course he’ll go and check up on her periodically with food, water, medicine, (a visit from the littles :)) encouraging her to stay hydrated.
When he walks in to find her sleeping soundly, he smiles to himself and kneels by her bedside, stroking her clammy forehead, taking her feeble hand in his own and just being in total adoration of her and everything she is and has given him. On some scale, to Hunter, love is the actually the best medicine.
Wrecker: He makes quite a fuss bless his heart. He hates seeing his lady in any discomfort! He’s frantic, asking Tech for advice and for the proper medicine and just a bit catastrophizing everything lol and being absolutely at her beck and call. She assures him on numerous occasion that she’ll be fine, but it just breaks his heart. :( He insists on carrying her around everywhere during this time. The wife thinks it’s a bit overkill, but she’s certainly not gonna complain about being cushioned so soundly by her brawny, lovable husband.
Tech: Mr. Know-It-All is ready and on standby. He’s got this in the bag. With a quick research, he can pinpoint her exact ailment—
To Tech it’s seemingly not a big deal, although it is, admittedly, jarring at first. He’s a soldier, a genetically enhanced one at that. He doesn’t get sick. Seeing someone so close to him fall ill…
He quickly shakes himself from his thoughts.
But the wife can see the little concerned furrow of his brow, hidden behind big goggles and an even bigger brain. She reaches out and halts his current medical rambling, settling her hand on his.
“Tech. Don’t worry, okay? Everything’s fine. Just let it run its course.”
Tech’s shoulders visibly relax then, a small smile gracing his face as he accepts her most reasonable conclusion. “Yes, I believe you’re right.” He kisses her head. “Rest, cyare.”
Crosshair: He doesn’t have much of an immediate reaction upon finding out she’s ill. He’s definitely concerned but he’ll never let it show.
But actions speak louder than words.
He never leaves her bedside. He’s there when she wakes, no matter what time of day or night it is, when she fades in and out of sleep, he’s there. He’s always there.
She reaches for him weakly.
He takes her hand in his, and his features crumble as he presses a kiss to her warm palm. He’s never gonna leave her. He knows rest is the most important thing she needs right now, so he lets her be and keeps a close eye, though he does his best to get some fluids in her to keep her strength up in periods of awake. Crosshair, he’s going to do everything in his power to make sure she gets better.
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vodika-vibes · 26 days
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hi hi! for your follower event, can i request hunter with peridot or topaz? either one, you can pick! maybe something fluffy on pabu or the marauder?
This Love
Summary: There’s not a lot of space on the Marauder and most of the time Hunter bemoans that fact. Sometimes, however, he loves how little space there is.
Pairing: TBB Hunter x F!Reader
Word Count: 785
Prompt: Topaz - Affectionate Love
Warnings: Uh...suggestive at the end.
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly @clonethirstingisreal (tagging you because Hunter took over this story and I think you'll like it)
A/N: So this was supposed to be soft and sweet, and it still is. But someone added some chili powder to the sugar giving it a little kick at the end. Sorry.
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The Marauder is a small ship.
Originally designed to carry four men, it now carries five men, one woman, one child, and a dog.
And while Hunter would be the first person to say that he’s thrilled to have his family around him, sometimes the lack of privacy is…annoying. It means that he doesn’t actually ever get any alone time with her, his cyare.
Well, sort of. The lack of space means that he gets to share a bed with his cyare every night. Simply because there’s nowhere else for her to sleep. And while she probably could have shared Omega’s bunk, Hunter is more than happy to be able to sleep with her pressed against his side. 
Even better, she put her foot down and made little curtains to give all of the bunks some privacy.
Originally it was just for Omega, but then Crosshair wanted one. And then Echo. 
And in the end, she plopped herself on a crate in the cargo bay and sewed enough curtains for everyone to have one. And then she bullied Tech into adding curtain rods to everyone’s bunk.
It’s the closest thing to ‘“privacy” that they’ve ever had.
Taking her with them on the Marauder was probably the smartest thing they’ve ever done. Even if she does have more enemies than a woman her age should.
Hunter’s gaze drifts from the ceiling of his bunk, to the woman nestled against his side. They’ve long since worked out that Hunter sleeps better when her back is against the wall and he’s able to act as her shield, even while in the safety of the Marauder.
She stirs, as though she can feel his eyes on her, and blinks sleepy eyes at him. It’s really too early to be awake, for either of them, but Hunter just smiles at her and reaches over to brush some hair out of her face.
“Morning,” He murmurs as he allows the pads of his fingers to drag lightly down her cheek.
“Mmmorning,” She shifts so that her head is resting on his shoulder and she rubs her nose against his neck, “What time is it?”
“Early.” He replies as he lightly shifts so that he’s laying on his side and facing her, smiling apologetically as her head falls back to their shared pillow, “You can go back to sleep.” He lightly trails his fingers down her bare arm, a small smile pulling his lips up as she shivers under his touch.
“With you looking at me like that?” She asks, her voice hushed.
Hunter chuckles and shifts one more time, until he’s half laying over her, “I’m not looking at you in any specific way.” He murmurs as he presses his forehead against hers.
“Are you sure?” She teases, the exhaustion slowly leaving her gaze as Hunter allows his fingers to trail over her body.
“This is how I always look at you.” He confirms. 
Her arms come up to circle his neck, and a light tug encourages him to press his chest against hers, pinning her to bed beneath him, a pretty smile crosses her lips, “Good morning, Hunter.” She whispers.
Hunter chuckles and lightly presses his lips against her jaw, before dragging them, slowly, to rest under her ear, “It is a good morning,” He agrees, “You know, I’ve been toying with letting you get enough money to buy a bigger ship. But I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t share a bed with you.”
“Who says that we’d have to stop sharing,” She murmurs, her head tilting slightly to allow him more access to her neck, “Between me an’ Tech, we could get enough money to get a ship with private rooms-”
“Tempting,” Hunter lavishes the spot under her ear with lingering kisses and nibbles for long enough that she releases a heavy breath, and then he moves to press his lips against hers, “I’ll talk to him about it.” He nips her lower lip, “Last thing you need, cyar’ika, is another cartel after your head.”
“I’m not worried, you’ll protect me.” Her fingers tangle in his hair and she tugs lightly, though even that light tug was enough to knock the breath from his lugs.
“Kriff, you can’t do that cyar’ika,” Hunter rasps, “My vod’e are on the other side of the curtain.”
Her lips curl up into a teasing smile, “Well then, you’d better be quiet. Hm?”
He groans quietly. “Ka’ra, I love you.”
Her smile widens, and she lightly kisses his jaw, “I love you too. And, when I’m done this morning, you’re not going to remember any basic.”
And Hunter grins as excitement heats his blood.
Stars, he really is a lucky asshole.
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starjedi86 · 3 months
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Taking care of you
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Summary: Hunter blames himself for not being able to protect you.
Pairing: Hunter x female reader
Warnings: None
Word Count: 965
Authors Note: In honor of season 3 airing today, here’s my first fic for the bad batch. I hope you enjoy it!
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The air in the small medical bay was heavy with tension as Hunter anxiously awaited news about you, his girlfriend and the mechanic of his squad. Each passing moment felt like an eternity, his mind consumed by guilt over the accident that had left you injured.
You and the rest of the members of Clone Force 99 were on a mission, as usual during the Clone Wars. However, this time, due to the lack of communication, the battle intensified, leading to your fall from a great height.
In the shock of the situation, you weren’t sure if your ankle was broken. During the rest of the battle, Hunter helped you and kept you safe. When it ended, you were in so much pain that Hunter thought it was best to return to Coruscant for a medical check with all the necessary equipment.
As the leader of his squad, he felt the weight of responsibility bearing down on him, blaming himself for not having protected you better.
He was lost in his thoughts when the medical staff informed him that you were awake and he could visit your room. Without hesitation he walked inside.
The door slid open, and there you were, lying in a bed with a reassuring smile. Despite the bandage wrapped around your ankle, your eyes sparkled with warmth as you met his gaze. “Hey,” you said softly, your voice carrying a hint of reassurance and warmth. You knew him so well that you already knew he was blaming himself, so you did your best to reassured him. “You don’t have to worry. I’ll be okay.”
Hunter’s shoulders dropped with relief at the sight of you, but the guilt still weighed on him. “I can’t help but feel responsible for this,” he confessed, his voice heavy with regret. “I should’ve been more careful, should have protected you better.”
But you shook your head, your expression softening with understanding. “Hey, accidents happen,” you reassured him, your tone gentle. “You can’t blame yourself for what happened. What matters is that we’re a team, and we look out for each other.“
Hunter’s heart swelled with gratitude at your words, he couldn’t help but love you even more. Despite the chaos of war, he knew that you were one of the few people who could comfort him and make him better. Stepping closer to your bed, he reached out to gently hold your hand and intertwine your fingers with his, his touch was gentle as if you were a delicate flower.
“Thank you, cyare,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “For everything.”
You smiled, squeezing his hand in return. “You don’t have to thank me love.“ you whispered back, your eyes filled with love towards him.
As you stayed there, Hunter couldn't resist any longer. He leaned in and pressed his lips against yours in a gentle kiss, pouring all of his love and affection into the gentle touch.
When you finally pulled away, your eyes met, filled with love for each other. "I won't let anything happen to you, cyare," Hunter promised, his voice filled with determination.
"I know," you replied, your voice filled with trust and love towards him.
You stayed there, chatting about various things as you waited to be discharged. When the doctors informed you that you were ready to leave, Hunter offered to take you to your apartment. The journey was quiet but relaxing after all the stress you both had.
Upon arriving at your apartment, Hunter gently guided you to your bed, propping your foot up on a pillow and ensuring your comfort before taking a seat beside you. You could see a mixture of concern and affection in his expression.
“Is there anything else you need? Pain medication, water, food, maybe a blanket?” he asked, his voice affectionate toward you.
You shook your head, managing a small smile on your lips. “I’m okay for now, love. I’m glad to be back home, at least for a couple of days.” you replied softly, grateful for his caring attitude.
Hunter nodded, but the worry still lingered in his eyes. “I’m just glad you’re safe, cyare” he admitted. “I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.”
Reaching out, you gentle grabbed his hand and caressed the back of it with your thumb. “I’m not going anywhere,” you reassured him, your touch offering a sense of calm. “We’ll get through this, honey, just like always.”
Hunter’s gaze softened at your words, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.
You returned his smile, grateful to have him by your side. “Always together, remember?”
Feeling a wave of gratitude, love and affection toward you, Hunter leaned in, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace, being careful with your injured ankle. You didn’t hesitate to lean your head into his chest, feeling the soft sound of his heartbeat.
Pulling back slightly, Hunter looked at you, a soft smile curving around his lips. Without hesitation, he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before pulling you closer, relieved to have you by his side.
As you cuddled together, you intertwined your fingers with his, feeling his soft and gentle touch over your palm. “I’m lucky to have you.” you whispered, your voice filled with admiration toward him.
Hunter’s eyes softened at your words, a grateful smile spreading across his face. “And I’m lucky to have you,” he replied sincerely, his voice filled with warmth.
As you looked at each other, lost in the quiet intimacy of the moment, Hunter gently placed his forehead against yours. You’ll definitely always be there for him and he for you.
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crosshairlovebot · 2 months
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i've got you / hunter x gn!reader
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pairing: hunter x gn!reader (no y/n). reader has endearments.
description: hunter finds you unwell, so he tries his best to take care of you.
word count: 1,779
warnings: references to illness (fever, headache, coughing, sneezing, lethargy). but otherwise, it's soft hunter at his softest.
been writing much hunter lately! i'm not complaining! (but i will try and get some crosshair out next week) i wrote this super quick for a twitter mutual <3 but i hope this brings comfort to anyone who's reading and sick. you deserve an attentive hunter looking after you.
also posted this on ao3. feedback is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated.
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Hunter knew something wasn’t right as soon as he walked into the Marauder. He’d come back after leaving the rest of the squad at 79’s, deciding he wasn’t in the mood to go out, especially when you’d decided to stay back on the ship, citing a headache. He’d initially offered to stay back with you, but you’d waved him off, insisting he go out with his brothers since they rarely got time off and you’d hate it if he used that time to sit around with you on the ship.
“I’m just going to lay in bed and maybe fall asleep early. I’m feeling a little tired anyway. Very boring stuff. Go have fun, Hunter. You need it,” you had told him as you came out of the fresher, face washed and in the comfiest clothes you had – baggy pants and short-sleeved shirt that you’d stolen from one of Wrecker’s old civvie disguises.
He’d been apprehensive but had left with his brothers anyway, telling you to comm him if you needed anything.
It had barely been an hour when he’d told Crosshair he was leaving, and to keep an eye on the others. Not only was the club loud and overcrowded, but he also just wanted to be with you.
But when he stepped onto the Marauder, something felt off. He could feel it in the air, and the sound of uneven breaths made the hair on his arms prickle under his blacks. He walked further into the ship, calling your name softly when he heard sniffles and a cough.
“Cyare? Hey,” he said when he saw you lying in his bunk, covered in a blanket and looking much worse than when he left you. You were unwell; the headache had been a precursor to something more serious. You squinted up at him as his shadow covered your eyes. He crouched down next to you immediately and ran a hand over your hair gently. “Why didn’t you call me?”
You groaned but leaned into his touch. “You’re supposed to be out.”
“I’m glad I came back.” Hunter pressed the back of his gloved hand to your forehead. Even through the skin-tight fabric, he could feel you burning up. “You should’ve called me,” he chided, a frown etched into his brow.
“Didn’t want to bother you,” you muttered, pulling the blanket tighter under your chin, and coughing lightly again. Hunter grazed the back of his fingers against your cheek.
“You’re never a bother. Why would you think that?” he asked, shaking his head.
You just shrugged, then sneezed under the blanket. When you re-emerged, moaning in discomfort, Hunter gave your cheek another caress before he put his hands on his knees and stood up. “I’m getting you a cold towel for your head.”
“No, don’t go,” you weakly protested as he walked off to the fresher.
“I’ll just be a minute, love,” he said and went to rifle under the fresher sink for a small clean towel, cursing that he and his brothers weren’t tidier. Once he found one, he quickly wet it in cold water and wrung out the excess before walking back to the bunk. You cracked open your eyes when you heard his footsteps and twisted on your back as he crouched down again.
“Here,” he said softly as he placed the cold towel on your forehead, smoothing it down. You hummed before a shiver went through your body.
“Have you taken anything?” Hunter asked.
“A couple of pills when you guys left,” you told him, eyes drifting shut again. Hunter frowned. He wasn’t used to treating sick people. Clones rarely ever got sick, their immune systems engineered to withstand any illnesses. Any time he was treated for anything, it was for injuries, and Tech usually handled it.
But Hunter was your partner, in every sense of the word. He wanted to be there for you in any way he could. Not just as the leader of the squad, but as someone who loved you more than he thought he could ever love anyone.
He always took care of the people he loved.
So, he tried to remember what they’d learnt from their training modules as cadets, the ones that detailed nat-born illnesses and how to treat them if they ever encountered sick civilians.
Fever, sneezing, coughing, headache. Sounded like a flu-type sickness. Maybe you had picked it up on Felucia during their mission there a few days ago.
You’d already taken some medication, so he knew you wouldn’t be able to for the next few hours. He just had to try and make you comfortable and ease the symptoms of the fever as much as he could while the medication worked.
Hunter gently flipped the cool towel to the other side as he looked down at the blanket. “You need to keep cool, cyare. We don’t want the fever to get too high,” he hooked his fingers over the edge of the blanket. You made a sound of protest but ultimately let him remove the blanket, pushing it down to the end of the bunk. You shivered, but you looked up at him, eyes blinking at him. He’d never seen you look so helpless before, and he hated it. He cupped your jaw, skin still hot, thumb moving over your cheekbone.
“Where’s your water canteen?” he asked.
You nodded to the cockpit, and he went to go get it, filling it up on the way. He crouched beside you. “Can you sit up?”
You nodded and tried to move. Hunter grabbed the towel from your forehead before he placed a hand under your shoulder blades and held your arm to support the change in position, fixing the pillow behind you. You groaned, complaining about the heaviness in your body as you sat there. He looked at you, shoulders slumped forward, peaky expression on your face as you rubbed your eyes. Being sick looked miserable, and he wished he could take it from you and suffer with it himself, just so you didn’t have to. He unscrewed the canteen.
“Small sips, okay?” He held the lip of the canteen to your lips and the back of your head as you tilted back and took three small sips before Hunter pulled the canteen away. Some water dribbled down your lip and chin and he gently wiped it away with the pad of his thumb. You looked over at him, brows slanted down. You looked upset, which surprised him a little.
“What is it?” He asked, screwing the canteen shut again.
You made a noncommittal noise and slowly moved to lie down again. Hunter cradled your head as you guided it down to the pillow, removing his hand once you were fully down. He ran his hand over your hair again. He watched your eyes close slowly at the movement. He repeated it a few times, soothing you the only way he really knew how. He tried not to worry too much, but it was hard when you barely had the energy to look at him. He knew nat-borns slowly got better from illnesses such as these in a matter of days, and he would have Tech check you over once they all got back, but he didn’t like seeing you like this; eyes dull, skin clammy, body curled up. He just wanted you to get better sooner rather than later.
After a few moments, he picked up the now half-dry towel and said, “Gonna wet this again.”
He stood up and walked to the fresher, and when he came back, he placed the damp towel back on your forehead. As he pulled away, you grabbed his hand and cradled it to your chest, interlocking your fingers together and sighing. He smiled softly.
“Oh, ner cyare,” he whispered gently.
“I’m sorry, Hunter,” you croaked.
Hunter shook his head. “It’s nothing to be sorry for. You’re sick. It happens.”
“Not to you,” you scowled at his hand like it was to blame for his immunity to illness.
“Well, I can’t help that.” His mouth tilted up at the corner.
You fiddled with his fingers and traced lines down to his palms. “I just feel so helpless like this.”
“Lucky for you, I’m here now. I’ve got you,” he leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on your temple. He lingered there for a second before he pulled away, his other hand coming to your cheek.
You looked up at him, pout on your lips. “I didn’t want to ruin your night out.”
Hunter caressed your cheek. “There was nothing to ruin. You’re my priority.”
“Still. I’m sorry,” you said before kissing his fingers.
Hunter shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.” He adjusted the towel and then fixed the pillow underneath your head, so it was better supporting your neck. “Do you feel like some food?” he asked. He wanted to feel useful to you, but he didn’t know what else he could offer right now.
You shook your head. “Just wanna sleep.”
“Then sleep, love,” he said, pulling his hand from yours and sitting on the floor next to the bunk, his back against the wall opposite, legs stretched out and the soles of his feet resting against the bunk frame. “I’ll be here.”
You watched him, mouth pressing into a line before you reached out to him and your voice said quietly, “Closer?”
Hunter smiled. “Hang on.”
He stood up and began to remove his armour. Piece by piece, he placed it in a pile on one of the chairs in the centre of the ship. Now only in his blacks, he made his way back to you. You opened your eyes again and smiled when you saw him in his underarmour. He crouched down.
“Shuffle over,” he whispered, and you obliged, moving slowly so your back was almost up against the wall. Hunter climbed in next to you, sitting up in case he needed to move out if you got too hot. Once he was situated, you shuffled closer, head resting against his thigh, eyes closed. You’d curled yourself in a ball, and Hunter looked down as he repositioned the cool towel on your head, making sure it was in the right place.
“Rest, cyare. I’m right here.” He stroked your head, then moved his hand down to your shoulder, rubbing his thumb there. You snuggled into the side of his leg, letting out a sigh.
“Love you,” you mumbled as you began to drift off to sleep.
He smiled down at you, his hand stilling as he rested his palm, so it cupped the curve of your shoulder and kept you close to him. “Love you.”
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thefrogdalorian · 3 months
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Sanctuary
Din Djarin x GN!Reader
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Summary: It's one of those days when your emotions threaten to overwhelm you. Despite the horrible day you're having, you try your best to keep it together. A feat you manage, until a certain Mandalorian arrives home and takes you into his arms. Word Count: 1.2k ✯ Rating: General ✯ Content Warnings: Descriptions of anxiety/panic attack ✯ Author's Note: Seeing these gifs the other day broke something in my brain and this little fic was the result. I hope this gets you through a day when you really need a hug from Din Djarin 💕 ✯ My Masterlist ✯
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On the days when your stomach churned and you were too upset to vocalise the war that waged within yourself, you were grateful to have someone in your life who seemed to know exactly what you needed. There was no doubt that Din understood you better than you understood yourself. It was unsurprising, given how meticulous and attentive he was in everything he turned his hand to.
You had been in each other's lives for some time, yet you still found yourself pleasantly surprised each time he shared such care towards you. You never doubted Din's kind heart once you got to know him, but you were nonetheless astonished by the multitudes he contained. It was astounding how tender and caring the man, who had gained such a fearsome reputation throughout the galaxy as a ruthless bounty hunter, actually was beneath his cold, hard beskar. 
It was early in the morning when Din had left through the door and your stomach tied itself into knots as you heard his heavy footprints gradually fade into the distance. The sound indicated that you were now alone with your thoughts. Throughout the day, you had pushed your emotions to the deepest depths inside yourself. You had been trying to kid yourself, in his absence, that you could survive the day without breaking down. You told yourself over and over that if you could just make it until Din returned and then put on a brave face when he walked through the door, you would have survived the day without dissolving into pieces. The last thing you wanted was for Din to see how upset you were. The fear that you were weighing him down with your troubles or somehow holding him back from achieving greater things was omnipresent. Even though he had never given you a reason to fear such a thing, you were constantly terrified of being seen as a burden to him.
The familiar heavy footsteps grew louder; their rhythmic, even quality indicated they could belong to only one man. You took a deep breath and attempted to steady your racing heart, preparing yourself to keep it together upon Din's return.
The second you saw his figure in the doorway, you knew it was a lost cause. At the sight of the familiar outline of beskar shining in the entryway, you immediately knew that there was no way that you would be able to maintain your composure. You stood up immediately, rising off the chair you had been sitting on as you waited for him, to greet the man who owned your heart entirely. Instead of racing towards him as usual, you found yourself suddenly overcome with apprehension. Your steps faltered with uncertainty as you walked towards him on shaky legs, feeling your ability to stay strong evaporate just from laying eyes upon him. 
Din held his arms out to you without hesitation, beckoning you to come close to him.
“Come here, cyare,” Din whispered as you stepped into his orbit, his voice gravelly, “Let me hold you.”
As you closed the distance between you and Din to rest your head in the crook of his neck, you caught a glimpse of his mudhorn pauldron, glinting despite the low light of the cabin. Despite how terrible you felt, the ghost of a smile passed across your lips as you noticed the signet was so distinctively Din. Stepping into his arms felt like you were returning to safety. To your home.
You rested your head in the crook of his neck and nuzzled into his rough cowl, enjoying his familiar scent. It was musky and masculine, but not overbearing. You detected a faint hint of perspiration mixed with the floral scent you knew lingered on his skin thanks to the bottle of liquid he lathered across his tan skin in the 'fresher each morning. Din’s chestplate was firm against your body. Initially, you recoiled at the slight chill from the beskar, discernible even through your layers of clothing. Once you had adjusted to the temperature and new sensation, though, you felt nothing but warmth when you were in his arms.
As Din held you close and his hands rubbed comforting circles into your back with one strong arm holding you tightly around the waist, you appreciated the way your bodies fit together. It was as you were admiring how you seemed to be made for each other that you noticed how Din had wrapped his cape around your shoulders to further cocoon you into him. As though he was protecting you from all of the hurt that lingered outside of the sanctuary of his arms. From whatever was troubling you. There was no intense questioning, no expectations for answers. Only safety, love and understanding from a man who wanted to help you through your very worst days.
Something about nuzzling into Din’s neck and the care he had taken to raise your spirits rendered you speechless. You were overcome with emotion, powerless to stop the tears which started falling down your cheeks. At first, it was a solitary droplet, but then you couldn’t help yourself as more and more tears slipped from your eyes. 
At the first sound of your sniffles, Din pulled away from you. You felt your stomach drop in panic, momentarily afraid that you had upset him somehow. You looked up at him and felt the embarrassment settle somewhere low in your stomach, a physical symptom of the mortification you felt at your outburst. Then came the shame. You were dismayed that you had lost control of your emotions in such a way. Evidence of your loss of composure was evident in the reflection of your face in his helmet. You watched as your expression grew increasingly more distraught and felt your chest heaving as the panic rose within you, upset at your emotional state.
Fortunately, Din was nothing but understanding and caring. Before your thoughts could spiral anywhere darker, he began to use his soft leather gloves against your cheeks to dry the tears that were burning hot trails down your skin. It distracted you from your anguish, his tender touch providing instant comfort.
You relished the contact and melted into his embrace. Between his hand that lingered on your cheek, while the other rubbed your back and ensured his cape still swaddled you, your mood was instantly calmer. Din brought you back into his shoulder and returned his hands to your back, rubbing up and down as he held you close. You wrapped your arms around his waist, relishing the small contact you gained with the warmth of his flesh between the hard plates of his beskar. You stayed like that for a few more minutes, feeling your anguish dissipate with each second that Din held you.
Eventually, your breathing evened out and returned to a less frantic pace. Sensing that his embrace had had the intended effect on your fragile emotional state, Din pulled away once again and brought his hands to cup your jaw gently.
“How are you feeling now?” he rasped as he stroked your cheeks with his gloved thumbs. 
“Being in your arms always makes me feel better,” you smiled.
“I’d hold you for the rest of my days if you only asked me to, cyare,” Din vowed with a nod of his helmet. 
You smiled then, enjoying the way your face lit up with a smile and how your eyes had regained their sparkle thanks to the tight embrace of your attentive Mandalorian; your sanctuary.
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multi-fan-dom-madness · 3 months
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Lessons in Anatomy and Affection (Hunter x reader)
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Summary: You decide to put Hunter's anatomy knowledge to the test.
Warnings: 18+ minors begone, here be smut; f!reader, unprotected PiV, creampie, switch!Hunter and switch!reader, teasing, lots of teasing
Word Count: 2k
A/N: Hi guys! I'm alive! I meant to post this months ago, but I've been busy, so with the new TBB season finally airing, I figured this would work now. Enjoy, ya heathens. (If you've sent me an ask, I've seen it! My inspiration has been very low lately, but it's on my radar <3). Originally a gift for @vimse
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Hunter exhales a shuddering breath as you blow a stream of cold air over the stripe you’d just licked up his neck. His hands rest lightly on your waist, his touch warm and comforting, and you delight in the way that his fingers dig into your side just the slightest. Throat bobbing with an audible gulp, Hunter turns his head to find your gaze. His eyes are half-lidded and blown with lust already, and they gleam in the soft, warm glow of the fairy lights of your bedroom. His dark curls splay around his head in a halo. 
“Cyare,” he rumbles. 
You shush him gently, pressing your lips to his. Under your wandering hands, the expanses of his bare, toned body flex and ripple, goosebumps trailing in your wake. Mouths moving together at a slow, unhurried pace, you can’t help the soft moan that escapes you when you curl your hand around his stiff length. 
“Kriff,” he breathes. “N-Need to touch you, cyare, please.” 
“I know, Hunter,” you murmur. Trailing kisses down the opposite side of his neck, you lavish extra attention to the sensitive spots you know drive him crazy. When you’re rewarded with a shaky sigh, his head tilting away from you to grant you better access, you smile against his skin. “But you have to wait. Think you can do that for me?” 
After a moment, his hands fall away from your sides. Pulling back, you study his features. His teeth worry his bottom lip, but his eyes find yours again, steady and dark and desperate. In the twinkling fairy lights, Hunter’s skull tattoo shifts and dances; though you know its base function is camouflage, to you, it’s always been beautiful. 
Glancing down the rest of his body as he’s stretched out on your bed, your mouth waters. The tattoo drips down the entire left side of his body, every bone etched into his skin with precise and accurate detail, from the large, sturdy femur to the smallest, most fragile phalange. He’s always been beautiful to you. And when he’s like this, relaxed and pliant, his beauty is nearly radiant. Anticipation curls in your lower belly and nestles deep, tightening your core with desire. You remove your hand from his cock before you lose track of the game you want to play. 
“I need to hear you say it, love,” you whisper, cupping his face. 
“Please,” he says. “Whatever you want. Just so long as I get to touch you at the end of it.”
“Always.” Pressing a sweet kiss to his chin, you shift so you can kiss down his body easily. “Ready for the rules?” 
Hunter nods.
“Good. I’m going to touch parts of your tattoo—” You ghost your fingertips over the inked-in fifth rib as if to prove your words “—and you’re going to name the correct bone. Get them all right, and you get your reward.” 
His nipples stiffen from your touch and the sultry promise of your words. “And if- if I miss any?” 
Tweaking one of his nipples, you hum while you think. “Miss one, and you can only hold my breasts. Miss two, just my hips. Miss three or more, and you don’t get to touch at all while I take my pleasure from you. Understood?” 
“Y-Yes,” he gasps out. His hips stutter up in anticipation.
Sitting up, legs tucked under you, you let your gaze wander Hunter’s form once again. Sweat has already begun to collect in the dips and valleys of his muscles. At his sides, his fingers twist into the soft cotton sheets in anticipation of the sweet torture you’re about to enact. His chest rises and falls with deep, labored breaths; at the apex of his thighs, his cock bobs gently with each beat of his heart. 
When he begins to fidget, you take mercy on him. 
“What’s this one?” you murmur, trailing your touch along the gentle curve of one of the tattooed ribs. 
“Third rib,” he answers immediately. 
“Very good.” Featherlight, you glide your fingers across his heated skin. “And this?”
“Sternum.” His voice is only the slightest bit shaky.
You move up to his throat and lightly tap the bisected cervical vertebrae that covers the central bump of his throat. “This?” 
He swallows, his throat bobbing under your touch. “C5.” 
Delight skitters over your skin at the way that his voice has already begun to drip with raspiness. Catching your lip between your teeth, you take a steadying breath, trying to ignore the way your pussy flutters with need.
When you’re ready, you move on again. You sweep your thumb in a soothing semicircle over the swell of Hunter’s shoulder, and wait for him to answer.
“Th-That’s the scapula,” he says, a waver in his voice. “The front edge of it.” 
Warmth rushes through you, a heady mix of pride and lust. “Very good, Hunter.” 
Tired of simply touching him with your fingers, you shift down on the bed to press a kiss to one of his arm bones, lips warm and soft against his skin. 
His breath hitches. “Radius.” 
Another kiss to the other bone earns you a sigh of, “Ulna.” 
A pleased hum vibrates through you. Bypassing his hand, you shimmy lower still on the bed to place a kiss to his kneecap.
“P-Patella,” he rasps, voice catching.
Gazing up at him for a moment, your mouth waters at the way that he’s not even looking at you. His neck is strained and his eyes are squeezed shut. Closer at hand, precum beads at the tip of his cock, practically begging to be licked. Tempting though the idea is, you force yourself lower yet again.
You target one of the tiny bones of his foot, and flick your tongue against it. A groan punches out of Hunter’s chest as his fists tighten in the bedsheets. Mouth working, no words sound from him. 
You lick the tattoo again. “What’s this one called, love?” 
“I- I don’t know,” he admits. 
“That’s too bad,” you say, words full of syrupy regret. “One missed. What does that mean again?” 
A strangled sound claws from Hunter’s throat. “It— It means I can only touch your breasts.” 
“Good boy,” you murmur. Pressing a fresh kiss to his foot, you smirk against his skin. “Now, tell me this one.” 
Chest heaving, Hunter squirms. It takes him a long, tense moment, but finally he gasps out, “Second metatarsal!” 
“Atta boy.”
Crawling up his body, you intentionally let your hand brush his cock. 
“Fuck!” he swears, voice cracking. “Please, cyare, please.” 
“Please, what?” you say. Tilting his face to you, you search his expression for any hints of distress. All you find is desperation and need. 
“Please, just...” He swallows thickly. “Need you.” 
“Just a few more, love,” you promise, “then I’ll give you what we both want.” Skimming your knuckles over the blank space of his cheekbone, you raise your eyebrows expectantly. “Tell me this one, Hunter.” 
“Skull,” he says, but his voice is hesitant, guarded. “Zygomatic.”
You kiss his opposite cheek, humming your approval, then reach for his inked hand. He releases the sheets to let you lick a thin stripe up his entire pointer finger. “In order.” 
His hand squeezes yours. “Distal, middle, proximal phalanges.” A shuddering breath leaves him. “Then the metacarpal.” 
He’s done so well for you; you just need one more answer from him. Your own arousal is getting more and more difficult to ignore as slick makes your thighs slippery. Nudging his wrist with your nose, you make sure your breath fans over his skin, warm and comforting. 
“Trapezoid,” he breathes out.
“Oh, Hunter,” you coo, brow furrowing in mock pity. “I’m so sorry, that’s not the right one.” 
“W-What?” His head shoots up, a frantic look in his eyes. “Yes—it is, look it’s—”
He points to the one you just nosed over, frown overtaking his features. You let him process the information for as long as he needs—which is a few long moments, given the way his irises are nearly black and his skin has retained its goosebumps for several minutes now. When you see the realization dawn on his face like the sun, you press a chaste kiss to his lips. 
“S’okay, love,” you mumble against his mouth. “That’s the trapezium, but you were so close. And you can still hold my hips while I ride you.”
A broken groan slips from Hunter, but his hands immediately fly to grasp at you. Swinging your leg over his waist to straddle him, you catch his gaze and hold it as you line his cock up with your dripping entrance and—
Matching moans echo throughout your room as you take him inside you. Dropping your forehead to his, you lower yourself inch by inch onto his cock, until your pelvis rests flush with his hips. No matter how many times you take him, it’s still a stretch, his cock filling you in ways that make you feel complete. Whole.
“Thank you,” he sighs, eyes locked onto yours. His nails are blunt but no less painful where they bite crescents into your skin. “Stars, you always feel so good. So warm, so tight.” 
Bracing yourself with your elbows to either side of his head, you roll your hips instead of answering him. Hooking your feet over his powerful thighs, you set a lazy pace, driven only by the intense, burning need to make him finish with you. His hands never stray from your hips—always a dutiful partner, always willing to listen and follow orders to their conclusion—but even so, his touch burns into you, scorching your very soul. 
You turn your head to rest it on his shoulder, working your hips a little faster. “I love you.” 
“Stars, I love you too,” he murmurs. His fingers squeeze your sides. “Love this pussy, too.”
Chuckling, you flex your core just to hear him grunt. “That all?” 
“‘Course not,” he says. He’s close; you can tell just by how clipped his words are, how strained his voice is. “Love your ass. And your thighs, your tummy, your hands—f-fuck—your eyes.” 
His words drive your hips faster, making you chase a release that suddenly rears its head. Pleasure thrumming under your skin and sliding through your veins, you moan at his praise. You bite into his shoulder, whining. 
“Love how you take care of me,” he continues, voice softening. “Love the way you care about us. I just love you, cyare.” 
“Maker,” you gasp out. “Hunter, I- I’m—” 
“I know, mesh’la,” he murmurs.
His grip turns almost painful as he takes control, dragging your body back and forth over his. Toes curling, your moans muffled against his skin, you delight in the way that he knows exactly how to move you, to make you see stars. 
Somewhere in the symphony you two compose together, of moans and sighs, whimpers and groans, you find the edge of shattered bliss. Hunter can feel it, and he presses his hips up into yours just enough to shove you right over the cliff. Body locking up, you cry out for him, walls fluttering as he fucks you through your orgasm. Pleasure burns through every nerve ending; your ears ring, vision black at the edges for a moment, as you let Hunter give you what you both needed. Through the haze, you’re dimly aware of the way his hips falter as he cums, too. Warmth spilling within you, Hunter pants against your skin, nails digging into your flesh.
When you both come down, you raise your head to meet his gaze. His eyes crinkle in a soft smile. 
“Hi,” he murmurs. 
“Hey,” you mumble. Sleep already begins to curl around your senses. “Thank you.” 
He releases your hip to cup your face. “What for?” 
“I dunno.” Biting your lip, you offer a smile. “Just being you.” 
Hunter brings you down to kiss you, a sigh of, “Always,” fanning your lips.
Because Hunter is your always, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
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din-miller · 5 months
Note
I think we all deserve some high tension closed places with the bad batch. Whether they're trying to escape from the empire or trying to fix the marauder and get stuck awfully close together?
Perhaps it ends in a Lil make out session?? 👀
This is a month late and I deeply apologize for that.
I spent so long trying to come up with different ideas for each batch boy. After two weeks of failed attempts writing different scenarios, I gave up and each part is set in a garbage compactor. The reader and each boy must come up with a way to survive as the walls close in.
Also I didn’t see the awfully close part until writing this. I’ll eventually write a lil something to make up for that. Though the walls are closing in and they do end up in each others arms…
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The Walls Around Us, Betray Us
Pairing: The Bad Batch x F!Reader
Word count: 3.6k (in total)
Warnings: slightly suggestive (echo I’m looking at you boy), first kiss, make out session, trapped together, hurt/comfort, female reader, thinks their going to die so obviously the correct thing to do is confession your dying love to one another.
A/N: I hurt hunter so much.
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Hunter
You’re not surprised when Wrecker, filling in momentarily for Tech, sent you down the wrong corridor. You’re also not surprised when Hunter pulled you to a stop by your hips, nor when he raised a finger to his mouth signalling you to be quiet. You are surprised when he basically body checked you down a garbage chute.
You both managed to land on your feet, which disappeared beneath murky water. The smell inside the compactor is kriffing awful and you dread the days to come where no matter how hard you scrub, the stench won’t leave.
In front of you, Hunter fell to his knees, pants and armour quickly becoming soaked as the brown water splashed up around him. Both of his hands come to cover his nose, face scrunching up as if he’s in pain.
You had watched him stick the landing, you knew there was no debris around him when his feet meet the water below, which left you baffled as to why he’s burying his face in his hands as strangled breaths echo off the walls of the garbage compactor.
His fingernails begin to leave red crescent shaped marks on the side of his nose and you cursed yourself for being so blind. You’re surrounded by garbage, there’s so many smells, all different but just as strong. Too strong for his enchanted senses. His helmet had fallen off during the tumble down the chute and was floating through the murky water, useless.
“What can I do?” You asked helplessly, “What do you need?” When all he replied with was your name, you frowned, “Yes?”
He shook his head, “No, I need, kriff-,” He pulled you down by the buckle of your pants, your knees hitting the water hard but before you could even begin to wince in pain, Hunter's head was buried in your neck. You could feel his nostrils flare, hear the sharp intake of air he breathed in, “I need you.”
Oh
You tilt your head to the side, allowing him easier access to your skin and he breathed it in greedily. Hunter pressed in closer to you, almost knocking you back into the water. In all the missions you’ve been on, Hunter’s senses have never brought him to his knees like this before.
“I can do more,” You promised, voice barely above a whisper, “Tell me what you need and I’ll do it.”
“Tech, Wrecker,” He gasped out, “Comm them.”
Right, of course. That should've been your first thought. Your hand reached down to your comm and wrapped around… nothing.
“Kriff!” You swore, hand reaching for Hunter’s belt.
“Cyare,” His body tensed under your touch, “I-I lost mine when we fell.”
You pulled away from, his head no longer buried in your neck but now framed by your hands. Your thumb caught a stray tear which made another one fall. The sight broke your heart.
“I’ll get us out.” You carefully leaned him against one of the compactor’s walls, the water chest high on him now, more of his skin being soaked and your anger towards Wrecker and his incompetence to figure out a damn map is high.
You sighed. It’s not Wreckers fault. He was doing his best in a situation he wasn’t prepared for and wasn't properly shown how to read the imperial ship's blueprint when Tech had been called away to fix something important on the ship. Wrecker did his best and you hope the rest of the Batch will not let the largest clone take blame for something that isn’t his fault.
You stood in front of the door, metal and rust trapping you in. You wrapped both hands around the cold handle and pulled. When the door didn’t open or even move an inch, you let out a cry of frustration and pounded your fist against it. Hard enough to split the skin on the side of your hand open.
“Stop!” Hunter called out, wincing at the loudness of his own voice and you immediately halted all movements. He’s looking your way but his eyes are narrowed in, unseeing as he focused on drowning out all sense but one.
Then, after a few quiet heartbeats, warning alarms blared through the compactor and the red light above the door started blinking. The hum of the compactor was next and your heart dropped in horror.
“Hunter, you have to get up!” You screamed, splashing your way over to him, water splashing high enough to irritate the cut on your hand, making you hiss but you pay no attention to it.
He shook his head, eyes scrunched shut, “I can’t.. the smell, the taste– it’s too much,” A broken whine left the man, “Please.”
His body jerked forward when the wall behind him began to close in. Behind you the opposite wall followed suit.
“You can,” You said, knees sinking in the water again, hands falling onto Hunter’s shoulders, “You can and you will. You don’t get to give up, you don’t get to die on your brothers, on Omega,” You leaned down to press your forehead against his, “Do whatever you have to do to block out-,”
“Kiss me.”
You blinked, reeling back from him, mouth suddenly dry. It’s not that you don’t want to kiss him, in fact it’s the exact opposite; you’ve yearned to feel his lips against yours. Dreamt of having his body pressed against you during the nights. Of exploring Puba’s waterside hand in hand.
There’s so many things you’ve imagined doing side by side with him. Dying wasn’t one of them. Being his distraction for a chance of survival wasn’t one of them.
You don’t want to take what you can get, because you deserve more than that.
But you also don’t want Hunter’s family to mourn over a death that you possibly can prevent.
With the slightest nod of your head, Hunter is rushing forward, his mouth soft and seeking against yours, fingers digging into the label of your jacket like a lifeline.
After a few seconds you pulled back enough to speak, “I need to know if this is a distraction on your part. Because for me, this is real. I want you Hunter, but not as a toy for you to tune out-,”
“No,” Hunter growled, eyes darkening, “Never, not you. I want you, ner kar’ta. All of it, everything. I never knew I could feel like this, that’s not what clones were programmed for. When I met Cut and his wife I thought, maybe, if I was fortunate enough, I could have what he has. Someone to love.”
“Hunter-,”
He shook his head, cutting you off, “I love you. I have for a while and I’m so sorry I never told you.”
“I’d rather you tell me now, than to die without knowing. I love you Hunter. I love your siblings. Travelling with you all has been the best decision of my life. I don’t regret any of it.”
As soon as the words were out of your mouth his lips were back on yours, not as desperate, more reassuring if anything. You yield under his touch, letting him lead the kiss. There’s small puffs of air tickling your upper lip as he breathed in your scent and exhaled sharply, repeating the action again and again.
The walls scraped loudly across the floor causing Hunter to shiver and even with your eyes closed, you could see the way his ears twitched at the sound.
Then it stopped, all of it. The walls, the kissing, the pain grunts that Hunter isn’t able to hold back. It’s completely silent, then a voice cut through the quietness.
“The door is unlocked, get your arses out of there.”
“Wrecker!” You laughed, “Am I ever glad to hear your voice.”
“Me too, ad’ika,” His voice is soft, “Now get out before the imps lock me out of their system. Oh, and congrats guys!”
Hunter hid his face in your shoulder and mumbled, “Thanks Wrecker.” He pulled back, eyes locking with yours, “Let’s get the kriff out of here cyar’ika.”
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Echo
“Remind me again why you thought this was a good idea?” You asked, awkwardly balanced on top of Echo's shoulders as you attempted to open the door latch on the ceiling.
His hand held your legs close to his chest as his scomp rested against your lower back so you won’t fall off his shoulders, “You thought the idea was good too.”
“Yeah because it was either this or getting shot,” You pointed out, cursing when your second attempt at opening the circular escape door failed, “And I do not want to get shot again.”
“It was an accident!” Echo huffed, fingers tightening around your legs momentarily as if the memory of your blood caused by his own hands would pull both of you under the murky water beneath his feet, “And you promised not to hold it against me.”
“Yeah, well that was before I was stuck in a garbage compactor,” You banged a fist against the door, a yell of frustration leaving your lips, “It’s rusted shut.”
Echo sighed, bending at the knees to allow you to slide off his shoulders. When finding your footing in the slippery water proves to be a challenge, Echo is quick to pull you against his chest, steadying you, “It’ll be okay, Tech will find us.”
“And if he doesn’t?” You asked, face hiding in the crook of his neck, “Then what? We get crushed to death like a pile of trash?”
He ran a soothing hand down your arm, “It could be worse.”
“How?!”
His voice fell into a teasing note, the mirth of it almost misplaced in your current situation, “You could be stuck with Crosshair instead of me.”
“Suddenly getting shot doesn't look so bad,” You teased back, drawing in closer to the clone as you quietly admitted, “I’m glad it’s you.”
“Me too.” He breathed, head resting on top of yours before tilting your head up to meet his eyes.
You’ve been on a few dates, nothin fancy; it’s hard to pull an all-star date when you’re running from the Empire but you honestly wouldn’t have it any other way. You’ve never met anyone like Echo, never met someone who makes your heart race by just standing next to them.
He’s different from any clone you’ve met before. Wounded but never broken. That was your first impression of him all those years ago. When you rescued him from Skako Minor, watching as he cracked a joke with Rex, smiling brightly at the older clone.
You fell for him and you fell hard.
The water licks at your knees as it ripples ever the slightest, a warning alarm goes off in the background, a loud reminder of how this ends. You watch a flick of guilt flash in Echo’s eyes and really hope Tech is able to find you before you’re crushed to death.
The guilt that is consuming the man holding you tightly is a guilt you want to chase away. So you do. You rush forward until your lips meet his. The kiss is fast, messy, verging on the side of painful as teeth scrape across your bottom lip. His fingers leave bruises against your hip and your lungs begin to ache for a breath.
If you are to die here in this trash compactor at least you're dying with the man you want to spend the rest of your life with.
He’s backing you up against the wall, the one you know is going to start closing in on you and him. The one that will be your inevitable death. At the moment you can’t find yourself to care about that as your lips slide perfectly against his, moans filling the room as your lips separate long enough to suck in a lung full of air before resuming the kiss.
You're not sure what compelled you to switch your positions, slamming his back against the wall as your chest pressed against his, lips reconnecting in a bruising kiss. You realise how well your body fits against his.
His hand squeezed your hip before trailing up your side, inches away from your breast when suddenly your comm link beeped and Tech's voice filled the room: “Please refrain from any sexual activities as Hunter is about to break through the door.”
Your face flushed and you dipped your head down in an attempt to hide it. Going by Echo’s chuckle you failed miserably. With a groan you asked: “What kind of garbage compactor has camaras?”
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Wrecker
The smell of garbage clogged your nose as you stare mildly annoyed at Wrecker, “I have never found myself stuck in an imperial garbage compactor with any of the other Batch.”
“Eh, I guess that’s what makes me special.” The clone shrugged, like your current situation is only a minor setback.
That earned him an exasperated huff, “Alright Mr. Special, how are we going to get out of this one?”
His face scrunched up, the scar tissue across his nose reflects the compactor’s red light and you have a strong urge to run your finger over the scar, “Don’t suppose there’s anything in here to make a bomb do ya?”
“Unless nuggets have suddenly become explosive, it doesn't look like it.” You splash the half-bitten nugget aside before re-searching the room for a way out.
Wrecker frowned and joined you in finding a way out. Moments passed in silence before Wrecker couldn’t handle the quietness. He leaned against the wall across from you and smiled, “At least we’re not crowded.”
The wall behind him screeched loudly and Wrecker’s body jerked forward with the sudden moment of the rusted metal. The floor began to vibrate knocking you off your feet and into the dirty water beneath you.
It’s beyond disgusting and your temper began to rise, “You just had to go and say something!”
“How was I supposed to know that was going to happen?!” He exclaimed, looking around the room for anything to help stop the walls from closing in.
Figuring since you’re already soaked and on your knees you'd best start blinding feeling around in the water hoping to find anything useful, “Let’s just figure out how to get out of here before we’re flattened like a pancake.”
Wrecker made a noise of agreement and busied himself with different attempts at preventing the walls from closing in. A minute passed with no success. Wrecker threw aside a long pipe that split in half and before you could stop him, his arms were spread out wide, palms pressing against both walls.
The walls yielded and you both breathed a breath of relief, only in the next blink of an eye, Wrecker cried out in pain as the walls scraped against the floor.
His arms started shaking in protest of being used in such manner but he gave you a wide smile and said, “You’d be a pretty pancake.”
You couldn’t fight back the snort that left your mouth, which earned you a satisfied grin from the clone. You blushed, his eyes darkening at the pretty pink across your cheeks. You shook your head, “What about you?”
His smile turned bashful, “No one would be looking at me, mesh’la.”
“You’re wrong,” You cupped his cheek, fingers brushing against his scars, something you’ve found yourself wanting to do for the last few weeks. His skin is raised from the scar tissue but it’s incredibly soft, “I would be.”
“Just lookin’?” He asked, elbows bending as the pressure of the walls became too much, while his head pressed further into your hand, eyes closing with a gentle sigh.
“Why would I stop doing what I love?” Your hands trailed down both of his arms until they wrapped around his wrist, giving them a squeeze, “Let go Wrecker.”
There’s sweat gathering at his temple and his eyes are frantic in the wake of your words, voice unsteady, “No, I.. I won’t let you get hurt! I can do this.”
“Wrecker, even with your enhanced bone density, you can’t stop the inevitable. I know you, you’ll keep going until your arms break... Then how would you hold me?” You gave him a half pleading and half coy look before sobering up, “You’re scared, so am I. All I ask is to know the feeling of your arms around me. Please, love, let go.”
His arms fell to the side, his posture, which was rigid, deflated to a defeated stance. You want to say something, anything, but the walls closing in faster would only drown out your voice. You’re not strong enough to speak anything louder than a whisper.
Wrecker must have understood, his voice loud enough for the both of you as he asked, “Any regrets?”
The corner of your mouth drew up and you held up a finger, eyes falling to the plush of Wrecker’s lips, in answer. Wrecker’s chest raised with a deep breath before exhaling slowly. He brought your hand up to his face, gently placing a kiss on the finger still held up. His breath is a warm comfort against your skin, “Me too, me too.”
Don’t die with regrets. That’s what people always say. A part of you is afraid to add to the regrets but that doesn’t stop you from leaning up to kiss Wrecker.
It was quick, a fierce burst of longing, barely able to capture the taste of Wrecker when he pulled back, “I love you. I wish I told ya sooner.”
He looked almost fearful, like he’s expecting you to push him away and you’re not going to allow that. You fall further into his embrace, lips crashing against his once more and he sunk into it immediately.
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Tech
The horrible screeching of rusted metal sliding across the floor was the only warning you got before you found yourself watching in horror as the walls on either side of you started closing in.
“That is not ideal.” Tech stated, fixing his goggles as his brown eyes flicker from the wall back to his datapad, reading whatever is displayed on his screen, “That is not good.”
“Understatement of the century,” You huffed, grimacing as the dirty water splashed your legs and soaked your pants, “I thought you said the compactor wasn’t scheduled for another hour!”
Tech turned the datapad towards you, a blurry video in black and white shows a live feed of the trash compactor, “It appears that we have been spotted.”
You swore, “Can you override the controls?”
“The empire seems to have updated their technology. I do not recognize the codes they are using. It will take me some time to decipher them.”
You watched as his fingers danced across his datapad, “How long will that take? If you haven’t noticed, we're a minute away from being crushed to death!”
“I’m aware.” His voice held a bite to it, one that you’ve never heard before.
Regret fills your body. He’s in the same situation as you, afraid just the same, “Right, of course, sorry.”
He doesn’t verbally address your apology but he does reassure you, “The others will find us. We’ve been in worse situations before.”
You studied him for a moment; taking in his stiff posture which is rare, he’s more of a croucher, spending a good portion of his days bent over the ship's console or his datapad. His fingers are tapping at the side of his device, a nervous habit of his. Your eyes fall shut, accepting defeat because you know, “We’re not making it out are we?”
“It is unlikely I’m afraid,” His voice is no longer biting, nor near defeat, just acceptance, “I do not have the necessary time to decipher the coding. Our fate is in the hands of the Batch now.”
“So that’s it? You’re just giving up?”
“Yes, but it’s not because I don’t care about our survival,” He attached his datapad into its slot on his belt, “I don’t want to spend my last moments with you with my face buried in a datapad. That’s not fair to either of us.”
He’s close enough to reach out and touch him, which is what you do. One hand flat against his chest, armour cold under your palm, and your other hand rests on his side, your hand small enough to settle on the warmth of his blacks where the armour doesn’t cover his torso.
“I would have before you,” He said, leaving you confused and he smoothed out the lines forming the frown on your face, then his hand cupped your cheek, “Take in as much information as I could, spend my last minutes doing what I do best; learning the ways of the Empire,” He pressed his forehead against yours, “Words could never compare to you, cyar’ika.”
Your heart soars, eyes flickering down to his lips, “May I kiss you?”
“Please.” Breathed Tech, already dipping his head down to meet you halfway, barely getting the words out before your lips connected. His lips are soft and tasted like caf and you both moaned into the kiss.
Your fingers flexed on his chest amour, steadying yourself when his tongue ran over the seal of your lips asking for permission. You let him lead and deepen the kiss, enjoying following along with the passion he poured into the kiss.
He eventually pulled back to rest his forehead against yours once more, “If we make it out I would love to take you on a date.”
“And if we don’t?”
“I’d die knowing how your lips feel on mine. To know what it’s like to taste the woman I cherish. That’s how every man should go.” Tech smiled.
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Crosshair
Sorry, Crosshair is on a vacation at the moment. He was kind enough to leave a message for his brothers.
✨ Eat trash and die ✨
302 notes · View notes
nahoney22 · 1 year
Note
Hey! Hope you’re doing alright and hydrated ❤️ I have a request if possible…I’m a sucker for angst so was thinking how would any of the batch (your choice) would react dying in the way Aunt May died in Spider-Man NWH…like she was right for a second and then it just happened.
It’s ok if you don’t feel comfortable about it, Ty!
No Way Home - Readers Death
All Bad Batch Boys X GN!Reader
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As the request says, boys reacting to your death like Aunt May’s in NWH
warnings: mentions of death of reader, swearing, blood, denial, major injury but not in detail, suuuuper angsty. ALL ABOARD THE ANGST TRAIN 🚂
authors note: very sorry for the delay nonny 💜
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Echo
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"That was a close call, too close," Echo breathes out, his voice laced with relief as he finds himself amidst the wreckage. You had just rescued him, albeit recklessly, but the danger had finally passed, and it was time to return back to the Marauder. What a mess.
"Tell me about it," you reply, forcing a short laugh despite the heaviness in your chest. As you approach Echo, you grow confused as his widened eyes catch your attention, as if he had witnessed something utterly horrifying. "Are you alright, Echo?"
He hesitates for a brief moment before rushing over to you, swiftly offering support as you suddenly collapse onto your knees. "Take it easy, cyare," he urges, his concern palpable. Confusion washes over you at the intensity of his worry.
"I'm fine, really. Just... need a moment to catch my breath, that's all."
Echo’s hand that was on your back comes forward and both of your hearts thunder at his crimson stained blood. “Is that yours?” You whisper, looking at his hand and tune up at him. But, his face said everything.
“We need to get you back to the Havoc. Now.” He had lost so much already, he couldn’t lose you.
“I’m fine Echo. I just need a second.” But your words were slow, laced with tiredness as your body starts to shut down. “Just a second.”
How many more seconds were you willing to give?
“I’m fine…. Aren’t I?” Your head tilts to the side as you look up at him, his eyes flooding with tears.
“Yes,” he rasps but his voice didn’t carry the strength of truth. “You’re going to be fine.”
“Just a few more seconds.”
And that’s all you could give him. He wanted a forever.
Hunter
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Hunter caught a whiff of it before he saw it. At first glance, you appeared relatively unscathed, just a bit battered from the recent attack. As always, you mustered the strength to stand up and push forward. But the scent of blood hung in the air.
However, the moment you took a step forward, you stumbled, only to be caught by Hunter. "Tech, I need an immediate extraction. Track my location. Now," he urgently commanded, his words filled with anguish, leaving you perplexed.
"Why the extraction? I simply tripped, silly," you chuckled softly, your nose nuzzling against his—a familiar gesture between the two of you. But as you attempted to sit up, your body betrayed you, and you remained rooted to the ground. His gentle pressure on your side triggered a wave of panic. "Hunter, am I injured?"
"Yes," he replied softly, "but don't worry. Tech and the others will be here soon, okay? Just hold on."
"Why are you telling me to hold on? I'm fine. I feel fine!" you protested, emotions rushing over you, followed by a fit of coughing that caused you to cry out in a pained sob.
"Take it easy, my love, take it easy. You're going to be alright. I won't let you slip away. Never," he assured, his words filled with desperation.
Sadly, even his words couldn't save you.
He cradled you in his arms for what felt like hours, feeling helpless, lost, and consumed by anger. "Please, wake up," he whispered, gently stroking your cheek, his tears falling onto your skin. "Wake up."
Wrecker
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"Are you alright, babe?" Wrecker rushes over to your side, forcefully kicking away the heavy debris that had engulfed both of you during the chaotic mission. It was just the two of you, both bewildered about what went wrong when the onslaught of rubble descended upon you.
Coughing, you nod while dusting off your eyes. "Y-yeah, I'm okay," you groan, joining Wrecker in removing the rubble that trapped your body. He assists you in standing, his arm wrapped around your waist as the two of you make your way towards the exit. But he abruptly halts as something warm trickles onto his glove.
Slowly, he withdraws his hand from you, desperately hoping it isn't what he fears. Unfortunately, it confirms his dread. "You, uh, you're bleeding quite a bit," he immediately informs you, flustered, as you stop and look at him, noticing the blood staining his glove.
"Oh," you manage to utter, but in that split second, you collapse to the ground. You believed you were fine, or at least you thought so, but witnessing the consequences of the mission on your own body triggers sudden pain.
"Fuck, are you okay?" Wrecker drops to his knees beside you, but it's too late. Just like that, you're gone.
"Baby?" he whispers, gently nudging your shoulder and placing his large hand over your cheek. "Hey, come on now. We have to keep going."
He's in denial. You can't be gone. It's simply inconceivable. The others hear him when he comms them, begging and crying and screaming your name. You left his life just as quickly as you fell into it.
Tech
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With adrenaline still coursing through your veins after the attack, you and Tech find yourselves surrounded by rubble and debris. Despite the chaos, you can't help but chuckle at the mess when you meet up beside Tech. "Well, that was quite an eventful ride, huh?"
"Yes, but it shouldn't have happened. I'm uncertain about what went wrong," Tech muses, resting his chin on his hand in deep contemplation. However, you reassure him with a kiss on the cheek, conveying that worrying about it can wait and that it's best for both of you to make a quick exit.
But as you continue walking, a sudden surge of pain radiates from your stomach, causing you to clutch it tightly before collapsing to your knees with a thud. "Tech, I don't feel well," you manage to utter through the discomfort.
His face instantly fills with concern as he swiftly approaches you, crouching down to your level. "Let me quickly check your vital signs and see if we missed any injuries."
Tech retrieves his scanner and begins assessing you, but his heart feels like it's about to burst out of his chest, as if it's being stomped upon, when he sees the results. Your minds are hazy, too clouded to fully comprehend the situation, as he urgently speaks into his comm, likely calling for assistance.
His hands gently grasp your shoulders, guiding your head to face him, even though you struggle to rely on reading his lips. Yet, there's an undeniable sense of concern in his eyes.
"Tech, what's happening?" you whisper, your voice filled with both pain and confusion. Your eyelids grow heavy as an overwhelming wave of drowsiness begins to wash over you.
"You're injured. Quite severely, I'm afraid," he responds candidly, wrapping his arms around you as you nestle into his side. He does everything within his power to prevent any further damage from occurring.
"It's not that bad," you mutter, your head lolling against his shoulder. "I'm just a little sleepy. I need a moment or two."
"No," he shakes his head adamantly, his voice filled with urgency. "No, you must stay awake, my love. Okay?"
As your eyes close, you release a deep exhale. "Just a few minutes, okay? You can wake me up soon."
Tech's heartache intensifies as he witnesses the person he loves slipping away right in front of him. His lower lip quivers, his mind desperately searching for solutions, for any brilliant ideas that might help, but nothing seems to work. "Stay awake, my love. List all the stars, moons, and planets for me, like I taught you. You have to stay awake," he implores, his voice filled with desperation.
"I can't," you sigh dismissively, leaning into his chest. "I'm so tired."
"Please... please, don't leave me.”
Crosshair
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"Why are you looking at me like that? Stop looking at me like that!" you exclaim, feeling uneasy under Crosshair's intense gaze. The mission had concluded, and you were both making your way out when he abruptly halted, fixated on your movements, as if witnessing a lifetime's worth of memories in an instant.
Confusion etches your face as you turn to him, repeating his name, but he remains motionless. It takes a shout from you to finally elicit a response.
"You're bleeding," he states firmly, dropping his rifle and stepping closer to you, causing your brows to furrow. You instinctively touch your head, finding a small trickle of blood.
"Well, of course I'm bleeding. A building just collapsed on us. It's just a scratch-" you begin, but he cuts you off.
"No," he interrupts, his tone resolute as he positions himself directly in front of you. He raises his wrist and speaks into his comm, urgently requesting an emergency evacuation.
"Crosshair, baby, I'm fine!" you protest, tugging on his wrist, urging him to keep moving. However, he remains steadfast, unmoving. Instead, a sudden wave of excruciating pain seizes you, causing you to cry out and clutch your side.
As you pull your hand back, your eyes widen in shock at the sight of crimson staining your palm. "W-what?"
Before you have a chance to collapse, Crosshair catches you in his arms. "Shh, it's okay. I've got you. The others are on their way."
"Crosshair, w-what happened? What's going on?" you panic, squirming in his grasp, only intensifying the pain.
The Marksman rarely experienced panic, but watching you in this state was unbearable. He felt utterly helpless, unable to do much except apply pressure to the bleeding wound. "Stay calm. It... it will be okay," he says, his voice wavering as he tries to reassure both you and himself.
"When can we go home?" you whisper, breaking the long, painful silence that had settled between you. He can't find the right words to say, so he simply holds you tightly, knowing that you're in shock and asking questions that may not make complete sense.
"Soon," he replies, his voice stiff, his lips lightly brushing against your forehead as he closes his eyes, feeling his heart shatter within him. "We'll go home soon."
Crosshair was never quite the same after you left for home.
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masterlist
tags: @nunanuggets @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @cwarssimp @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @oohyesplease @megafrost4 @theroguesully @mustluvecho @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @kixs-husband @pb-jellybeans @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory y @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @agenteliix @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @imalovernotahater @s1st3r @by-the-primes @the-bad-batch-baroness @crystal076 @blustalker @the-good-shittt
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coffeeandbatboys · 2 months
Note
Helloooooo!
Congratulating you muchly on your follower milestone, so kriffing proud of you!
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For the prompts, could I please request
Echo (tbb)
7
🥰
Thank you and congrats again, you are AMAZING!!
Thankuuuu!! Oml as soon as I checked which prompt this was I started getting ideas!
Prompt is: Writing little notes on post-its and leaving them in random places to read.
270 follower celebration og post
Warnings: none. Echo being a cute lil shit from across the galaxy. Reader works at Cid’s tavern
Flimsi love notes (Tbb!Echo x Reader)
The first one you found was in your apron. His Aurabesh might have been a little screwed since his left hand wasn’t his dominant, but you could read Echo’s handwriting anywhere.
“If you’re reading this I’m probably thinking of you cyare. Love you and be safe. I’ll be back soon.”
Ever since the Bad Batch had stumbled into Cid’s tavern, you’d had your eye on him. To this day he couldn’t understand why out of every member of the batch you chose him, but hey. He couldn’t complain.
There would always be one where he knew you’d see it every time he was away. Sometimes they would be tucked behind the mirror in your ‘fresher, other times in your bag, or under your pillow where he knew you’d slide your hand before you went to sleep.
Cid’s growl came from across the room.
“Hey laser brain! Bar needs to be cleaned off. There’s another note over here for ya. You kriffing lovebirds are going to be the death of me.”
You sighed and picked up the washrag, only stopping to take a peek at the aforementioned note.
“How’s my Mesh’la doing today, huh? Call me later tonight.”
Maker, this man might not be perfect, but he was certainly trying. You finished your shift at the bar and walked home, anticipating to hear his voice after a long day. You dropped your bag at the door and flopped down on the bed, pulling out your comm.
“Mesh’la?” He answered. You smiled at the warmth in his voice.
“I got your note, Echo. You are the sweetest.”
He laughed, voice low and raspy. “I try my best. How was your day?”
“Long and boring. I’m about ready to quit and demand that Hunter let me join you guys.”
“That wouldn’t be a bad idea, but some training would be needed.”
“Well lucky me I’ve got one of the best ARC troopers for a boyfriend.”
“I’m the only ARC trooper you know, Mesh’la.”
“And you’re the best in my book.”
“Can you do something for me really quick?”
Your eyebrows scrunched. “Sure?”
“Unlock your door.”
You didn’t move. “What?”
“Unlock the door!”
Something clicked in your head and you scrambled off of the bed to your front door. Throwing it open, you practically burst with happiness when you saw him.
“ECHO!” You screeched, throwing yourself into his arms. He laughed lightly. “We got done early. Figured you could use another surprise to keep you on your toes.”
“I’ve come to expect anything and everything from you, Echo.” You mumbled into his shoulder. “Just never know what’s next.”
He pressed a kiss to your temple and nuzzled his nose in your hair.
“Love you Mesh’la. So much.”
You tighten your arms around him. “Love you too, Echo. Even more.”
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morallyinept · 8 months
Text
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A list of all my favourite DIN DJARIN Fic Recs, with the writers tagged. Includes fics I am currently reading/want to read.
Please show some love to the writers by re-blogging and commenting on their work. 🖤
PART 1
⚠️ Please ensure you check the triggers/warnings etc... on the stories themselves as some of them may not be suitable to your own particular tastes.
Stepwise & Din Djarin Masterlist - @the-scandalorian
Push & Pull - @sinsofsummers
The Cassandra Complex Series - @netherfeildren
Fear Not The Abyss CultLeader!Din & The Mandalorian Masterlist - @psychedelic-ink
Take Me To Church Series - @frannyzooey Western AU
Touching Din - @archieimagines
The Mandalorian Masterlist - @absurdthirst So much to choose from!
Hands - @againstacecilia
Your Creed, My Quest Series - @atinylittlepain
Din Djarin Masterlist - @beecastle Couldn't pick just one!
Bleed For Me Series - @saradika Vampire!Din
Din Djarin Masterlist - @beskarandblasters Couldn't pick just one!
Defanged - @concussed-to-pieces
Acting Out - @cool-iguana
The Minotaur Series - @djarinsbeskar
Warmth Of You & Din Djarin Masterlist - @ezrasbirdie
Feel It - @ezrasbirdie Din x Cobb
It would be - @fuckyeahdindjarin
Din Djarin Masterlist - @theidiotwhowritesthings So many good ones!
In Knots - @radiowallet
Possession - @prolix-yuy Featuring Cobb Vanth
Silk Series - @juletheghoul 1970's AU
The Sweetest Melody - @noisynaia
The Only Exception - @imaginedisish
Keep It Down - @multifandombitxh
Home Is Where You're Mine - @inklore
Did You Miss Me? - @mellowswriting
Din Djarin Masterlist - @bits-and-babs So many to choose from!
Stormy Skies - @deakyjoe GN!Reader
The Worthwhile Delay - @ghostofaboy Din x Cobb
Windows Of The Soul - @la-lunaluna M!Reader
A Sound Only You Can Hear Series - @nolanell GN!Reader Soulmates AU
I'll Be Needing The Stitches - @thetriumphantpanda
Watch - @psychedelic-ink
To Touch Darkness - @djarincore Possessed!Din
Be All & Endor Series - @djarins-cyare
Tendrils - @morallyinept RopeMaster!Din
Taungsdays, Am I Right? - @theywhowriteandknowthings
Night Ride - @decembermidnight
A Good Friend To Have - @beskarandblasters Sub!Din
A Kind Of Demon - @fettuccin-e Monster AU
Hold On, Hold On - @kedsandtubesocks Cowboy!Din
Bounty & Hunter - @never--doubt
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kapposuch · 1 year
Text
Domestic!Bad Batch x reader (headcannons)
Warnings: Absolutely none! just utter fluff!
I love these kids, I've adored them since I laid eyes on them and god I want the best for these sweethearts. It's been a long time since I've done anything like this, so if you have constructive criticism for me, please lay it on me! I'd really appreciate it!
Here's the bad batch! hope you enjoy
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Hunter
He's very much not used to a domestic setting, especially not one he's sharing with you
but god he wants to do right by you and make sure he doesn't mess things up
constantly cleaning up tiny messes he makes, even if it's not a mess. it's as if he doesn't want anyone to know he's even staying with you. it's not like that, he swears! just military habits
"What's with the state of the Marauder then?"
"You think Wrecker can keep things tidy for ten minutes?"
He's an early bird due to his military routine, so he's often up long before you. expect to be tucked in tight with a cup of caf or tea on its way to you when he hears you stir
but sometimes, he just likes to sit in the absolute bliss of freedom. even if it's for a short time before he has another mission with his brothers, he'll relish the contact and hold you close, cradling you like a babe.
moments like this make him feel alive. and it's all he ever wants.
on the rare occasion you wake up first, seeing him sprawled out on one side of the bed, barely covered by your sheets with unkempt hair and a missing bandana makes you melt. an absolute sight to behold, so you'll lay there and take it all in while you have the chance before those unflattering blacks are back on
no matter whats happening, where you are, or what you're doing around your apartment, he will make it his mission to be in your personal space. he wants to make sure nothing happens, and fears the loss if he steps away for just a moment
constant kisses. Hunter relishes in physical touch, and will always place a kiss on your temples, forehead, hands, cheeks, nose, lips, whatever he can reach the fastest. you'll never forget how devoted this man is to you.
even if he's wearing his whole gear and hasn't taken his head piece off yet, he'll delicately bump it to the top of your head if he's got a good enough angle.
he'll melt if you kiss his helmet. maybe he'd consider asking you to put on some lipstick and throw a big ole smooch onto the filter by his cheek so he can take your love with him to battle
"mark my helmet, would you mesh'la? I want to take you with me while I can"
oh no, your heart is missing, where in the galaxies could it have gone?
sweet angel
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Wrecker
Where do I even begin?
it won't be the tidiest arrangement by far, but he will always do his best to pick up after himself, even if it's not very often.
arrange a day where you both tidy, with music in the background, and he'll be so gung-ho about helping you clean up! with the occasional dance number during, of course
he'll give you a spin and a dip, and a big ole smooch! very very smily man, god take care of his heart
words of affirmation turn this sweet giant into a puddle of mush, please compliment him
you'll pick up on a few mandoan terms, and will throw them around here and there while you're busy
"Hand me a towel would you, cyar'ika"
"can you grab me that mug from the top shelf, ner cyare?"
his face will light up, eyes well with tears, and he'll scoop you up into a bone-crushing hug, waddle to the couch, and sit with his face buried in your neck, simply repeating the phrases you say in his head. he'd do anything for you to continue getting these sweet words
he's a little bit of an idiot, so sometimes you have to reassure him if you make a joke that he doesn't quite get. you find it endearing, but he worries you think he's not that smart
you can cup his cheek, stare into his eyes, and praise his wonderful mind
movie nights with mantell mix are a staple for this man's date nights. you'll never escape his embrace while watching movies, but you don't mind. he keeps you warm and safe
sleeping arrangements are as such: you're a little spoon. deal with it. he finds it most comfortable, though some nights he'll roll over and will wake up feeling your forehead on his back, and arms wrapping as far across his body as possible. he finds it utterly adorable, and loves it just as much as sleeping with you on his chest
as long as you're by his side, so that when you wake, you can share kisses and make a cup of caf together for the day ahead
"Don't know what I did t' deserve ya... But I ain't lettin' go. Don't even think 'bout it, cyare."
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Tech
clean. freak.
everything should be where it belongs after its used, and even you yourself have to get used to it if you're going to be accommodating his stay for a little while
of course, you accommodate willingly, to which he will always attempt to thank you for it, in his Tech ways
anything broken? not anymore
acts of service make his wizard brain hum with glee, so whenever you have an issue you'd like help with, he's already chomping at the bit and listing all the things he'll need to fix whatever ailes your mind
sleeping beside this man could not be more of a rollercoaster
sometimes he wants to cuddle up close, but other times he does indeed need his space. you've made a promise to always ask and find out what he's looking for, and this man practically melts like putty in your hands. god you're an angel in disguise for this troubled soul
with cuddle time, he'll place his hands where they're most comfortable. if they land somewhere spicy, it's simply because of his arm positioning. he's definitely a big spoon and absolutely relishes in the fact that he can make you feel safe. he doesn't mind if you're the only person in the galaxy that depends on him for safety, because he wouldn't have it any other way.
other nights when he needs his space, he'll lay beside you, fingers laced with yours, and wait for you to fall asleep comfortably. if you're talking for a little while, he pushes eye contact. it's his way of apologising for the lack of snuggles, which is equally taxing, but he wants to remind you that you are his world
absolutely a tea lover, and would just about pass away if you brought him a mug of leaf juice on a morning
always sneaking peeks at you, out of pure adoration. he thinks he hasn't been caught, but you caught him long ago, oogling at you fresh out of the shower wrapped in a towel
nice try Hun, maybe next time
hes leaving for a mission? he will break his internal rules and make a mess of your bed, filling it with blankets, pillows, and any soft items he can find. if he has a spare set of blacks, or even some clothes you bought for him as a casual wardrobe, he will make sure it smells like him so you've got extra comfort until he gets back
always telling you that he'll be back in -insert approximate date- but will forever promise to do his best to get back earlier
he won't call you call you petnames, but the way he says your name is so endearing. he says it with passion, and it melts your heart
"It won't take long. Around two weeks if all goes to plan, which is extremely unlikely due to the nature of the mission. But I do insist, I'll come back to you soon, y/n."
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Echo
this absolute darling boy has been through the lot
Echo is a tough one, considering he isn't to big on making himself at home anywhere. he's pretty cut and run nowadays but for you? god he'll do his best
he keeps relatively tidy, making sure to help out with the dishes if you ask, or if you're looking pretty tired. he doesn't want you to push yourself when he could easily do it himself
he absolutely shoves a sponge on his scomp. do not @ me about this, imagine the glass cleaning efficiency of this man, god
he's a vivid enjoyer of quality time. while he can't exactly 100% convince himself that you find him comfortable enough to lay with or cuddle, he will always do his best to let you sit where you wish
he'll often ask that you sit on his right side, so he can hold you in his arm and rub gentle circles into your hip or waist as he gets comfy
he is a sleep avoider. you know he's got a lot in his head, and always wants to keep busy, which you're usually fine with, but when it's time to sleep, you'll always do your best to ramble him to sleep. god, this sweet man needs someone to consume his thoughts to ward off the nightmares
you're a big spoon most nights. not because Echo doesn't like spooning you, because he does, he absolutely adores it, but most often, Echo needs that sort of safety net. having familiar arms and weight around him will help him doze, and it'll chase away the bad thoughts clouding his sleep
when you're lil spoon, he will always nuzzle his face into your hair. the smell of your shampoo, and just you in general, is so comforting.
whenever he wakes up in a cold sweat, he feels bad for dampening the sheets, but as you've learned to wake with him in these situations, you always shush him and suggest he take a warm shower while you switch the sheets out for lovely warm ones
echo in a towel. you insist he makes you hot and bothered, and he does believe you every time you say it. he's starting to believe it, and by god you're helping his self esteem more and more each time he stays with you
before he deploys with the batch on a mission, he sits and stares at you, hand cupping your cheek, eyes flickering back and forth between your own
he likes to drink all of you in while he has the chance, and if ever he's thirsty, all he has to do is remember you
you're the last thing he wants to remember if ever he's faced with something anywhere close to Skako again.
"Ner mesh'la... I'll come back for your eyes alone. wait for me, please"
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Crosshair
Where to begin?
Nightmare. he can be like having a teen in your home sometimes. snarky comments and sarcasm up the wazoo, but each one of them threatens to get you riled up
he's not the cleanest, but he will keep things in order a majority of the time, helping out with moving things and taking the bins out whenever you need, just so he can keep tabs on you
sharp shooters have sharp eyes, and his are trained like a hawk on you
he isn't the most affectionate, mostly expressing his love to you through teasing and sarcasm.
he likes commenting on your height, or making remarks on your handiwork with whatever you might be doing, though he never intends to be rude about it
sometimes when he's had an iffy day, or he's out of sorts, he'll wander up behind you and snake his arms around your waist, before he nose dives into your neck
he never does much without your explicit consent, but does cast glances often
let's face it. he does not care about what he's wearing around you. including nothing
"Cross- can you please at least put your briefs on?"
"Can you please keep your eyes off me? Cyar'ika, I thought you knew better."
sleeping goes as follows; if you want to spoon, he'll spoon, and hug you close in his sleep
if you want to lay on your back, your chest becomes free real estate.
oh, those are some comfy looking pillows you have there. big, small, or nothing at all, it's a pillow, and it's his
head on chest, hand on waist, absolute KO. he is not waking up
Cross, on the odd occasion, can feel vulnerable around you. when he's away from his work, he'll talk to you about some of the things that happened, and he knows you'll listen to every word, which he can't express his appreciation for
while you're not allowed to touch his rifle, he'll let you sit by him while he cleans it. in fact, he'll appreciate the company. he always does
"I'm off, cyare. Behave while I'm gone, and we won't have problems."
What a tease
506 notes · View notes
a-lil-perspective · 2 years
Text
[I know it’s Soft Sniper Sunday but real quick—]
Hunter: Hey baby.
Hunter: My doctor says I’m lacking vitamin “U”. ;)
Cyare:
Cyare: 😏
Hunter: 😏😍
Tech: *appears out of nowhere*
Tech: *breathes*
Tech: TEcHniCaLLY—
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vodika-vibes · 3 months
Note
May I please get a Tech x Jedi!Reader with a glimpse before and after Order 66. Techs POV where after figuring out that the jedi are being hunted becomes worried. Im thinking White Clover and Pansy and maybe angst/fluff? :>
ps i love your work and i cant wait to read anything you make, youre amazing :3
A Promise Made
Summary: You and Tech, before Order 66 and after.
Pairing: TBB Tech x F!Reader
Word Count: 2983
Warning: Angst, Reader survived Order 66 and has totally understandable trauma regarding that
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni
A/N: I'm still not sure if I'm writing Tech well, but I haven't got any complaints.
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“Is there a reason you are laying on me?” Tech asks as he looks down at the Jedi sprawled across his lap, her gaze locked on the datapad in her hand.
“I don’t get to spend nearly enough time with you, and this is the best way to keep you from accidentally ignoring me.” She replies lightly, “Why? Are you uncomfortable?”
“No. I am just concerned that you might get hurt.” Tech answers easily.
“So be careful and you won’t hurt me.” 
He rolls his eyes expressively, though because she’s not looking at him, she doesn’t notice. “What are you working on, cyare?”
“Master Windu asked me to reverse engineer a Seppie weapon, and I’m starting to think that this weapon was designed by an actual child.” She says with a sigh as she drops her datapad and presses her forehead against his thigh.
Tech smiles at the back of her head, “Would you like me to take a look?”
At that she laughs and rolls over so that her head is resting on his lap and she’s looking up at him, “I know you have better things to do, Tech.”
He sets his own project to the side, and gently brushes her hair out of her face, “I do not mind putting it aside to help you.”
She reaches up and presses her hands against his, lightly rubbing her cheek against his gloved hand. “That’s because you’re amazing.” She praises, “But it’s okay, Tech. I can figure it out. I always do.”
Tech smiles at her adoringly.
When he was a cadet on Kamino, he believed that this kind of happiness was beyond him. He did not understand why his brothers, including his batchmates, were so laser focused on finding someone to spend their time with. He thought that it was little more than a distraction.
That was until he met her.
She had been brought to Kamino at the request of General Ti, and the first time Tech saw her, he didn’t think she was a Jedi. He thought she was a natborn who had been tasked with maintenance of the various vehicles stored on Kamino.
She was clever and quick witted, and while his twin claimed that she wasn’t going to win any beauty pageants, on account of the fact that she tended to have oil on her face and staining her hands, and she didn’t seem to care about things like appearance, Tech thought that she was stunning.
They developed a quick friendship, bonding over their mutual love of technology. 
Tech honestly had no idea that she was a Jedi at all, not until he saw her dressed up in Jedi robes rather than her normal grease covered jumpsuit, and talking to General Ti like it was her right.
The conversation that happened after that isn’t one that Tech is proud of. He had been hurt that she hid such an important part of her from him, and he lashed out. She was offended that he thought that she was hiding it, claiming that she never hid anything from anyone, and that it wasn’t her fault that he didn’t know that she was a jedi.
The disagreement turned into a full blown argument, and Tech didn’t talk to her for over two months. It took Hunter and Crosshair teaming up to make him see that he was being bull-headed and stubborn, and it was the encouragement of Wrecker that forced him to go to her and apologize.
At the time, he had been worried that she was going to hold a grudge, but she didn’t. Instead she just smiled and laughed, and told him that she forgave him, and then she showed him what she was working on.
Soon after that, Tech realized that he was thinking about her all the time. When he was in training, when he was reading, even when he was about to go to sleep; her smile, the way her eyes crinkle when she laughs, the way she pushes her hand through her hair when she’s contemplating something complicated-
He found himself looking forward to spending time with her, even if they’re just working in the same room. 
It was Crosshair who pointed out the obvious, with a roll of his eyes as he flipped through a magazine. “You’re obviously in love with her, dumbass.” He drawled without looking up from the glossy pages of the blaster magazine that he got from somewhere, “It’s a perfect match, you’re both annoying little shits.”
Tech wanted to argue with him, partly because he feels the urge to argue with his twin about everything, but he found the words turning to ash on his tongue. Because, annoyingly, he was right.
Tech was in love.
He became awkward and nervous around her, babbling about random things that he learned, and through it all, she watched him with a small smile, and often asked questions about his latest hyperfixation.
And then, late one night, she kissed him.
A gentle press of her lips against his. It was innocent and chaste, and yet it sent fire through his veins. She didn’t say anything after the kiss, she just watched him and waited, seeming to understand that Tech would need a moment to process.
And then he kissed her, and suddenly he understood exactly why his brothers desire this so much.
“Tech?” He snaps back to the present at the worried call of his name, and he glances down at her face, “There you are. You were lightyears away.” She teases.
“I was thinking about you.”
“Oh? Nice things, I hope.”
He laughs, “I always think about you, cyare. You occupy my thoughts at all times.”
“Well, that sounds annoying.”
“Not at all,” Tech lightly guides her until she’s sitting up and he presses a series of light kisses to her cheek and across her jaw, “I find that it is the most enjoyable part of my day.”
“Well, you’re easy to please, aren’t you?” She teases as she leans into his affection.
“My brothers tell me that I am very hard to please, actually.”
“Well, they’re not me.” She turns her head and kisses him quickly, “So you know, you’re constantly in my thoughts too.”
Tech laughs softly and presses a series of light kisses across her face, “I am glad.”
She grins at him, and shifts to sit on his lap, her hands coming up to cup his face, “Tech, I…” She pauses, and her gaze flickers to the side, “I want you to know that I have to return to Coruscant for a couple of weeks. I would like it if you commed me?”
Tech has a feeling that that’s not what she was going to say, but he lets it go, “Of course I will. So much that you will get tired of me.”
She laughs, “I don’t think that’s possible.”
“You never know,” Tech kisses her one more time, “When do you leave?”
“Two days.”
“Well then, we had better spend that time together.”
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It has been three weeks and four days since the day that the Clones turned on the Jedi. And somehow, you’re still alive. Which, in and of itself, is a damned miracle.
You press your hand over your side, a slow hiss of pain escaping your lips as you move the wrong way and the hole in your side twinges painfully.
When the clones marched on the workshop, you had been in the back, working on one of the protocol droids. You managed to escape while the older jedi tried to fend off the soldiers, but you still took a blaster bolt to the side.
Not to mention, you’re still reeling from the loss of your friends, your family. 
You push the pain into the force, and take a moment to tighten the bandages around your side, before you continue your trek. It’s not safe for you anywhere.
And as much as you want to comm Tech and beg him to come and help you…you know that you better not. Tech is a clone after all. And if he pulled a blaster on you, you’d probably just let him kill you, honestly.
No. It’s safer this way.
Though, the galaxy is a much lonelier place now.
Time passes quickly, when you’re on the run. And before you know it, 6 months have passed.
You’re…surviving as best you can, all things considered. You managed to find a medic who treated your blaster wound in exchange for some simple maintenance work, and you managed to earn employment on a cargo ship.
Though, really, you mostly just bounce from ship to ship, from planet to planet, as much as you can. You don’t stay in the same place for longer than a few weeks, fearing that the empire will find you.
You take comfort from the memory of your family, and from Tech. You cling to those memories, as they’re the only thing that keep you going. And sometimes, at night, you allow your mind to linger on Tech, on what could have been.
It’s easier now, though.
After six months, you no longer feel like the Empire is breathing down your neck, and for all you know, you’ve been reported dead. You don’t dare to look, fearing that if you look and you weren’t, then the Empire will start looking for you.
It doesn’t make any sense, you know that, but it’s an anxiety that you can’t seem to shake.
“Hey, Kid!” You jump as the ship captain, your current employer, claps your shoulder with a heavy hand, “Me an’ the boys are going to the bar. Wanna join us?”
“Ah…no thank you. Trying to stay sober,” You say with an easy smile, “You guys have fun.”
“Right, sorry kid. I forgot. You keep up that sobrarity! We’re rooting for you.”
You smile at him, feeling momentarily guilty. Your story, the one that you’ve been using since the purge, is that you’re a recovering alcoholic, and that’s why you want to work on ships, to avoid temptation.
It’s not true. But it keeps people from hounding you to go drinking with them. And, more than one of the people you’ve worked with over the past few months have bemoaned your “parents” for not helping you with your addictions.
It’s almost like having a family again.
Almost.
You step off the cramped ship into the cool evening air, wanting to stretch your legs for a bit, when you hear a familiar voice and feel a familiar presence in the force.
“Hey, that person might know!” You’d recognize Wrecker’s force presence even if you were doped up on force suppressors, and the child standing next to him has the same overall feel as all of the chones.
Your blood runs cold. Wrecker will recognize you. How could he not?
He approaches you, and your mind goes blank. Your fingers twitch towards your lightsaber, hidden in your sleeve. You don’t want to hurt Wrecker. But you will if you have to.
“Excuse me, miss?” The child stops in front of you, and you look down at her. Blonde hair, wide brown eyes…she’s a clone, no doubt about it. “Me and my brother are looking for a specific shop-”
“I…I’m sorry, I’ve never been here before.” You keep your voice low, in the hopes that Wrecker won’t hear you. But you know there’s not a chance of it, not with how close he is to you.
Surprise flashes across his face, followed by joy, “It’s you! Tech has been worried sick! We all have-” He takes a step towards you, and you scramble backwards, grabbing your saber and lighting it with the comforting snap.
“Stop! Just…just stop.” You sputter, “I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if I have to.”
Wrecker stops, “Right. Okay.” He pulls Omega back, “No one’s going to hurt you.”
“Sure.”
Wrecker slowly sends a message to his brothers, and then holds his hands out, showing that he’s unarmed. 
Tech, Hunter, and Echo run up only moments later, and Hunter has to grab Tech from running over to you.
“It is just us, cyare.” Tech says, pulling himself away from Hunter, “We are not going to hurt you.”
Your lightsaber is crossed across your body defensively, and slowly you reach out to the force, looking for the, arguably, most dangerous member of the CF99 at the moment. “Where’s Crosshair?” You ask.
“He is…not here.” Tech says quietly.
“You expect me to believe that your own twin isn’t here, I’m not that dumb, Tech.”
“He…” Tech falters, “Listen, his chip activated, ours didn’t. So when we defected, he didn’t.”
“What chips? What are you talking about?” You demand, and their faces fall.
“You…don’t know.” Hunter says quietly, “Stars, you must have thought we turned on you for no reason-”
“It would be nice to know what crime my people committed to deserve to be slaughtered down to the smallest baby, yes.” You bite out.
“It wasn’t…there…” Echo trails off and he takes a deep breath, “Tech, you need to talk to her. Just, tell her the truth. All of it. She’s a jedi, she’ll know if you’re lying.”
Tech nods, and he steps in front of his brothers, his gaze locked on you, “I am going to tell you everything that I know,” He says quietly, and then he starts talking.
And slowly, as he explains, you lower your saber and then turn it off. And by the time Tech finishes his story, you’re sitting on a small crate with your face in your hands. “My people were slaughtered by your brothers because Palpatine stole their free will from them?”
“Yes.”
Both of your hands fist in your hair, “...’m sorry for drawing my saber on you.” 
Tension drains from the men standing across from you, and the next thing you know, Tech’s hands are on your shoulders, “It is okay. You had every right to be concerned.” He kneels in front of you, “Are you injured?”
“I was shot at the temple, but that was months ago.” You say quietly.
“And…you are alright?”
“No.” You whisper, “It’s a very lonely galaxy, Tech.”
Tech raises himself enough to press a kiss to your forehead, “You do not have to be alone. You can travel with us. Right, Hunter?”
“Of course.” Hunter replies immediately.
“See.”
“That’s kind of you, but I know your ship isn’t that big.”
“With the both of us, we can retrofit.” Tech offers, “We can make room for all of us.” He takes your hands in his, “Please do not leave.”
“You won’t be safe if I travel with you. I’m a Jedi.”
“We are not safe anyway.” Tech points out, “Please, cyare? I promise that we will be safer together.”
You sigh, and very gently squeeze his hands, “Yeah, okay. The crew that I’m a part of now won’t be surprised if I decide to leave without warning.”
“Truely?”
“I have something of a reputation.” You reply dryly.
“...it has been 6 months.” You shrug, and allow Tech to tug you to your feet, before he wraps you in a tight hug. “I feared you were dead.”
“I’m sorry.”
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Tech’s gaze lingers on her as she dozes in his bunk, his fingers are tangled in her hair as he silently offers her comfort.
She doesn’t look healthy.
She’s too thin, her clothes hang off of her, and the circles under her eyes are dark enough that it looks like she has bruises around her eyes. She hasn’t been eating properly, obviously, and Tech wonders if it’s because of grief or fear.
And there’s no way he’s ever going to forget the look in her eyes when she saw them again. Dread, fear, terror-
He never wanted her to look at him like that again.
Tech smooths his hand down her spine, and carefully adjusts the blanket so it’s tucked under her chin.
He knew the moment that the regs turned on General Billaba, that his cyare was in danger. The dread had been like a lead weight in his stomach. And while he would have spoken to Crosshair about it, he could tell that there was something wrong with his twin.
Not to mention, Crosshair had never been her biggest fan in the first place.
So he bit his tongue, and kept an eye on the list of deceased Jedi, and he hoped. 
It wasn’t very logical.
But the longer he didn’t see her name, the longer he had hope that she was still alive.
She shifts in his bed, rolling over to press her face against his thigh, and Tech presses his hand against the back of her head. The Marauder really isn’t big enough to add another adult, so she’s going to have to share with him for the time being.
Which isn’t half as much of a problem as he’s making it out to be, nothing would make him happier than waking up with her in his arms, but the last thing he wants is for her to forget where she is and freak out.
Luckily, the dread he felt when he heard about the jedi being hunted has faded into something much easier to handle, now he just has the sinking dread of having to help her deal with the trauma of surviving a massacre.
Easy.
Tech glances down at his datapad, and settles back against his pillow as he starts to read on how to help people process trauma.
If he can’t get his cyare to a mind healer, then he’ll just have to become one himself.
Tech glances at her one more time as her fingers curl in the soft material of his pajama bottoms, and he smiles at her sleeping face. He gently brushes some hair out of her face, “I promise,” He whispers, “I am going to take care of you.”
284 notes · View notes
starjedi86 · 1 month
Text
Keep you safe
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Summary: Hunter comforts you after a nightmare.
Pairing: Hunter x female reader
Prompt: “Of course I'd keep you safe."
Warnings: Angst but fluff at the end.
Word Count: 1288
Authors Note: Thank you @ghostofskywalker for organizing this exchange!
This is my gift for @frostycatblr-fandom-files for the @cloneficgiftexchange . I hope you enjoy it!
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The Marauder cruised through the vast expanse of space, its hull creaking softly as it traveled through hyperspace. Inside, the hum of the engines provided a comforting backdrop to the stillness of the night. All the members of the Bad Batch were fast asleep, having completed one of Cid's missions while simultaneously trying to go unnoticed and hide from the empire.
You lay curled up on the small pillow in your bunk, seeking deep rest after a day filled with both emotion and danger. Hunter, your faithful love and protector, lay beside you, his presence always a source of comfort in the darkness. Despite the dangers that lurked beyond the Marauder's walls, within its confines, you found solace in each other's arms during moments of rest like this one.
As sleep finally enveloped you, you were thrust into a world of darkness and despair: a nightmare born from the depths of your subconscious. You found yourself in a darkened place, escaping from an unseen adversary.
Despite your efforts to run as swiftly as possible, their pursuit grew ever closer, their voices gradually becoming discernible: the Empire had finally tracked you down. Glancing back, you saw your loyal companions running alongside you, particularly Hunter, urging you to hasten your pace. But no matter how swiftly you attempted to move, escape remained elusive.
Suddenly, a misstep sent you tumbling to the ground, vulnerable to the approaching troopers. Desperately, you struggled to break free, only to witness Hunter's capture alongside you, surrounded by overwhelming numbers.
Then, in a cruel twist of fate, the sound of gunfire shattered the night, and you watched in horror as the love of your life fell, grievously wounded and seemingly lifeless. Each image carved itself into your mind with vivid clarity, intensifying the fear that gripped your soul.
Suddenly, you felt someone shaking you urgently and desperately, the images of the nightmare becoming increasingly blurry. With a gasp, you were ripped from the depths of sleep, your heart racing in your chest. Blinking away the remnants of the nightmare, you found yourself staring into Hunter's concerned eyes. His hand kept shaking your arm, trying to rouse you from the terrible dream that had gripped you.
You knew that he had likely heard your murmurs and cries while you slept. After all, his sleep was never deep, and his heightened senses often made him aware of your distress before you were fully awake.
"Cyare, are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft with concern.
Tears welled up in your eyes as you met his gaze. In that moment you were still reeling from the horrors of the very real nightmare you had experienced.
"Come here," he said, still looking at you with concern but also gently attempting to comfort you.
You automatically moved towards him, wrapping your arms around him tightly and burying your face in his chest as you cried, seeking solace from the terrors that haunted your mind. Hunter's arms enveloped you, holding you close as he whispered soothing words.
“It was just a dream,” he murmured, his voice always a constant source of comfort that always helped calm you whenever your thoughts spiraled into chaos. "You're safe now, I promise."
Hunter continued to hold you close, his arms a steady anchor amidst the storm of emotions raging within you. You sobbed quietly against his chest, the remnants of the nightmare still lingering in your thoughts.
Gradually, as his reassuring words and comforting presence surrounded you, the tide of fear began to subside, replaced by a sense of security in his embrace.
Minutes passed in silence, broken only by the occasional sniffle as you regained control of your emotions and thoughts. Finally, Hunter gently pulled away from you, his hands cupping your face as he met your gaze with unwavering determination.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked softly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of distress or fear.
You shook your head slightly, unable to find the right words to articulate the horrors that had plagued your dreams. Instead, you offered only a vague description, omitting the details; the mere mention of the Empire was enough to send a shiver down your spine.
Hunter listened silently, his expression a mask of worry as he absorbed each word. When you finally fell silent, he squeezed your hand reassuringly and gently caressed your cheek with the other, his voice firm and resolute.
"I won't let anything happen to you," he swore, his voice filled with determination. "You're incredibly important to me, and I'll ensure they never lay a hand on you, I promise."
His unwavering conviction filled you with a sense of reassurance, dispelling the lingering doubts that had clouded your mind. Whenever you were close to him, you felt loved and protected. However, despite his assurances, a lingering fear still gnawed at the edges of your consciousness.
"But what if they find us?" you whispered, fear resurfacing with renewed intensity, tears welling up in your eyes once more. "And if they capture us, or worse..."
Hunter's gaze softened as he wiped away the tears streaming down your cheeks with his thumb. "I won't let that happen, trust me, cyare," he repeated, his voice brimming with determination.
Meeting his gaze, you searched his eyes for any hint of uncertainty. "If anything happened, you’d always protect me, right?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, a tremor of fear still evident in your tone.
"Of course I'd keep you safe," Hunter replied without hesitation, his words a comforting reassurance in the face of uncertainty.
Feeling a rush of gratitude and love for the man who had become your rock in this turbulent galaxy, you threw your arms around him once more, holding him close as if to anchor yourself in his unwavering strength.
"I love you," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the hum of the ship's engines.
Hunter's embrace tightened around you, his voice a soft murmur against your ear. "I love you too, cyare,” he whispered, his words a tender declaration of his affection.
After a few moments, Hunter gently broke the embrace, his gaze meeting yours with concern. "Feeling any better?" he asked softly.
You nodded, offering him a small smile. "Yes, I'm better now," you replied, your voice still laced with traces of emotion.
Returning your smile, Hunter reassured you once more. "I'll always be here to protect you, cyare,” he promised, his words filled with firm resolve. “I'll never let anyone hurt you. Over my dead body"
Feeling a sense of warmth and gratitude wash over you, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. He returned the kiss, holding you close in his arms as if to shield you from the galaxy's troubles.
Seconds later, as the kiss broke, you looked up at him, gratitude shining in your eyes. "Thank you, love, for always being there for me," you said softly.
Hunter's expression softened, his love for you evident in every glance he gave you. "There's nothing to thank me for," he replied gently. "I do it because I love you."
A surge of affection flooded your heart at his words. "I love you too," you whispered, your voice filled with sincerity.
With that, you rested your head against Hunter's chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek. He tenderly ran his fingers through your hair, a gesture of comfort and reassurance in the quiet refuge of the Marauder.
As you lay there, enveloped in the warmth of his embrace, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as you had Hunter by your side, you would always find peace, protection and solace in his love.
124 notes · View notes
crosshairlovebot · 8 months
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woven comforts / hunter x gn!reader
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pairing: hunter x gn!reader (no y/n). reader has a nickname.
description: hunter comes home after a long day, and you're there - as always.
word count: 1,309
warnings: none. it's soft hunter at his softest.
this is a request from a lovely twitter mutual who asked for some cozy post-work relaxation/stress relief! i got a little carried away and actually wrote two pieces for this. this is the second one because I didn't think the first was cozy enough! but I will definitely still post the other one because I love it too. soft hunter is so nice to write. i hope you enjoy it!
also posted this on ao3. feedback is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated.
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The Pabu sun streamed in and warmed the side of your face as you scrolled through the datapad on your lap. You heard the front door open and close from your spot on the couch, and you smiled when you turned and saw Hunter stroll in, his body slightly hunched.
“Hey,” you stood up, placing the datapad on the caf table. “You’re back later than I thought.”
Hunter stretched his neck out, eyes drifting closed before he forced them open again. “A couple of the boats broke down before they left the dock, slowed us down.” He smiled tiredly at you after running a hand down his face.
“Sounds stressful,” you commented before meeting him in the open kitchen.
Hunter shook his head, downplaying and evading his troubles as he often did. “It was nothing.” He moved closer to hold your arms and gave a lingering kiss on your cheek. “How was your day?”
“Fine,” you smiled, leaning into his kiss. He kept holding you, like if he didn’t he wouldn’t be able to stand upright. You took his hands as you surveyed his appearance. The bandana that kept his hair in check was askew, and his hair was knotted from the sea breeze. His clothes lightly smelled like sweat and the brine of the ocean, and his strong hands were slightly red and his palms calloused. He needed to relax, but he would never ask for it. You tucked some tangled hair behind his ear. “Why don’t you go shower and change, and I’ll make you some food?”
“It’s my turn to cook tonight,” he protested weakly.
“Don’t worry about that,” you said, cupping his cheek with one hand and kissing the other. “Just go and clean up, cyare.”
Hunter smiled, evidently too tired to argue and softened by the endearment. He pulled you in for a gentle kiss that almost made you forget your name before pulling away from you and going to shower. You smiled as you heard the door close and the water turn on.
The water running quickly became a comforting kind of white noise as you made Hunter a sandwich with the Pabu’s famous seeded bread that he loved so much. You just finished cutting the sandwich diagonally when you heard the water shut off and the bathroom door open a few minutes later. Hunter emerged with loose pants hanging low on his hips and a sleeveless undershirt, wet hair stuck to the skin around his collarbones and neck. He looked a little more refreshed, his tattooed face a little brighter as he ran the towel over his wet hair.
“Better?”
“Much,” he draped the towel around his neck as you pushed the plate with the sandwich across the bench. He smiled at you with such gratitude you would’ve thought you had done more than just make him a snack. “Thank you,” he took the plate.
You returned the smile. “You’re welcome.”
You poured him a glass of cool water and then you both made your way over to the couch to sit down. You pulled your legs up under you to face him as he leaned forward to eat over the plate he’d placed on the caf table. You watched the tendons in his neck move as he took a bite, he hummed in enjoyment, making you smile. “Good?”
He nodded. “Thank you,” he repeated after swallowing. “Tell me about your day?” he asked eyes meeting yours in genuine curiosity as he took another bite.
You launched into a retelling of your day; a trip to the market and the bakery for the bread with Omega before dropping her off to help Tech and Phee with cataloguing the Archium, then helping an elderly neighbour with her pruning since her hands often locked up before coming home and tidying things up after Omega stayed with you both last night. She tended to hop around to each of her brothers’ bungalows, but this was her home base.
Hunter listened intently as he ate. You watched him as you spoke, almost getting distracted by the way his hair fell in his face as he leaned over the plate so it would catch any crumbs. You reached out and placed some damp hair behind his ear, curling it gently. These moments between you were so practised that you often didn’t notice them anymore. Both of you just moving with each other automatically. You didn’t notice touching Hunter’s hair, softly running your fingers through it. You didn’t notice when he offered you a bite of his sandwich wordlessly, and you took one mid-sentence, covering your mouth as you talked around it while he took a bite where you just did.
There was an ease with Hunter that meant these moments, however insignificant, made up the pattern of your intertwined lives. Both of you weaved together effortlessly as if you were always meant to.
After Hunter finished eating and his glass of water was empty, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and leaned back on the couch, closing his eyes. You shuffled closer and ran your fingernails over his scalp. “Today was pretty tiring, huh?”
Hunter peeked open an eye and nodded. “Since Shep opened up the surrounding islands for settlement, there’s always shipments coming and going, things to load and unload. Today felt longer than others.”
You smiled sympathetically. “You’re doing good, you’re a great help to everyone.”
Hunter smiled and reached to grab the hand resting in your lap, squeezing it as his thumb caressed the back of it. “Thanks, mesh’la.”
You smiled and gently tugged him closer and guided his head down, so his head could lay down in your lap. As soon as he realised what you were trying to do, he scooted down so he was comfortable and closed his eyes, sighing with content. You chuckled and looked down at him. “Comfortable?”
“Extremely.”
You laughed again and continued running your fingers through his damp locks, which were already starting to curl up as they dried in the setting sun’s heat that permeated the bungalow.
Instead of talking, you let him rest, watching his rest rise and fall. You adjusted yourself carefully under him, angling his head slightly so you had more access to his hair. You combed through it gently with your fingers before sectioning it in two, and then into three smaller sections on each side, braiding his hair. You softly tugged the hair as you weaved the strands together, watching his face and body slowly relax from the movement of your hands against his scalp. He loved it when you played with his hair. It soothed him in a way nothing else did.
You finished off one side before starting on the other, and by the time you were done with the braids, Hunter was asleep, his breathing deep and even. You smiled, gently brushing the bare side of his face with the back of your fingers, warmth filling your chest at the sleeping man of yours. You were glad he could finally rest.
Hunter stirred a little from the touch, reaching up to cradle your hand to his face.  He cracked one eye open. He was always a light sleeper.
“Sorry, go back to sleep,” you whispered, gently caressing his cheek with your thumb.
“Closer,” he mumbled still half asleep, tugged your hand, making you smile.
You both readjusted, him lifting his head so you could get out from under him before he pulled you down, so you lay with him, head resting on his chest. Hunter’s arms went around you, one of his hands running up and down your arm as if soothing himself back into a slumber. You relaxed too, his steady heartbeat under your ear. Soon, his touch stilled, turning limp as he fell asleep again. You smiled before closing your eyes too.
thank you for reading! i have a few requests to get through so keep a look out for more soft clone pieces!
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thefrogdalorian · 5 months
Text
Dincember Day 5: Cold
Din Djarin x GN!Reader
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Word Count: 1109 Rating: General Summary: After your favourite Mandalorian's latest assignment with the New Republic means that his return to your cabin is delayed, you head to bed, thoroughly miserable. But when Din finally arrives home the reunion does not go entirely smoothly, as you find yourself needing to warm him up, with adorable consequences. Content Warnings: None! Author's note: I love it when big scary bounty hunters are secretly little spoons.
Link to read on AO3 | My Dincember Masterlist
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You were accustomed to Din arriving back to your cabin on Nevarro from his various assignments with the New Republic at all times of day and night. You had come to learn, after several disappointments, not to wait up for him on the days that he said he would be back. Before, you would feel the unmistakable despondency creeping in as his arrival times grew later and later, usually caught up in some bureaucratic nonsense.
Tonight appeared to be no exception, as the time on your chronometer when Din had promised to be back came and went, with still no sign of him, nor any word from him as to how long he would be. You had tried your best to stop letting it get to you, but you could not deny the sinking feeling that you felt in your chest each and every time he wasn’t back with you at the time he had promised. The cabin felt so dark and lonely without him. You were miserable without him, you felt somehow incomplete without his presence.
With nothing else to do and no point in waiting up for him, you decided to make yourself your favourite hot tea and climb into the cot you shared with Din in order to try and get some sleep. The thought of climbing between the blankets without him was thoroughly unappealing, but the lack of contact proved that whatever he was caught up in was out of his control. He was probably somewhere out there, just as frustrated as you were. You missed him terribly, but perhaps when you woke up, Din would be where he belonged: back with you.
Sometimes, the sounds of the N-1 engines descending through the atmosphere to park outside the cabin would wake you up. But despite your unhappiness and concern for him, you had been so tired that you were in a deep sleep by the time Din finally arrived home. The N-1 parking up did not raise you from your slumber, nor did Din and Grogu as they arrived back at the cabin. The first sign that Din had returned home was the sound of the door to the room you shared together opening.
“Din?” You said sleepily, into the darkness.
“I’m home, cyare.” Din’s familiar, deep, soothing voice sounded into the Nevarrian night. You heard him beginning to carefully remove his beskar’gam, a comforting sound that told you he was closeby. “Don’t get up.”
“Glad you’re home,” You sighed happily, halfway between wakefulness and slumber. You soon fell back to sleep. 
Your eyelids fluttered open as you felt the mattress sink with Din's weight as he made himself comfortable on the cot next to you. You smiled as you felt the cotton of his soft clothes as he wrapped his strong arms around your waist. But something was wrong. Rather than the warm, steadying embrace you had grown accustomed to, your ordinarily calm, unwavering Mandalorian trembled from head to toe.
“Din, what’s the matter?” You said concernedly, now fully awake. “You’re shaking all over. Did something happen?”
“I’m ju-just so...” Din struggled to speak against the chattering of his teeth, “C-c-cold.”
“Oh, come here, love.” You said as you pushed him carefully onto his side so his back was facing you, pulling the blanket around the two of you as you did so. You wrapped your arms around his abdomen and pushed them under his shirt so your hands came to rest, palms splayed, against his firm stomach that was beginning to soften slightly with age. “Let me warm you up.”
“Th-th-thank you,” Din said, still shivering.
“Was the job somewhere cold?” You asked sympathetically. 
“Ha-had to report to ice pl-planet… Hoth.” Din explained. So that was what the delay had been, then, you surmised.
“Is Grogu alright?” You asked, concerned about what the cold would have done to a being as tiny as Din's son.
“Ye-yes…” Din nodded, “Left hi-him in the ship while… talked to Teva.”
“Okay, just rest now. Focus on getting warm.” You soothed, stroking his dark curls gently between your fingers.
You lay there for a few minutes, enjoying the feeling of Din in your arms, despite how much he was still trembling. It was a welcome change, despite the less-than-ideal conditions that had brought about a shift in your dynamic. Din always liked to gather you up in his arms protectively and hold you close and of course you enjoyed his enormous, warm presence that engulfed you whenever he held you in his arms. You had never felt a greater sense of safety or belonging in all your days than when you were in Din's arms. But every once in a while, it was nice to have a role reversal, to hold him and make him feel how much you loved him and wanted to protect him, too. The absolute love and devotion in your relationship flowed both ways and it was an honour to remind Din of that.
As you laid there and held him tightly, continuing to stroke his bare skin underneath his clothes with your palms, you felt how the tremours that had wracked his body decreased in both their frequency and ferocity. You were grateful that what you were doing had worked, that Din seemed to be warming up from the frigid air on Hoth that had frozen him to the bone.
“You feeling any better now?” You asked as you dropped a gentle kiss to the nape of his neck.
“Much better.” Din sighed happily, though you could tell from the fatigue in his voice how exhausted he was. 
“That’s what I like to hear,” You said in relief, “Why don’t you get some sleep, Din? You sound exhausted.”
“I am,” Din huffed.
“Awwww, honey.” You soothed. “You can tell me all about yours and Grogu’s latest adventures in the morning.” You said, rubbing Din’s stomach softly again. "But first, rest."
“Will do,” Din’s voice was barely above a whisper now, heavy with sleep. “Goodnight, cyare.”
“Goodnight, Din.” You whispered. “I love you.”
“Love you…” Din mumbled, voice trailing off as sleep finally embraced him. You could tell, with a smirk, from his even, shallow breaths that he had dozed off. 
You were grateful for how easily sleep seemed to have come to him. After a long, arduous job like the one he had returned from, he needed his rest. You were desperate to hear the tales from his adventures but you knew that could wait because sometimes your big, formidable bounty hunter just needed to lie there and be the little spoon, as you helped to warm him up from the cold.
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