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crosshairlovebot · 10 months

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kisses on palms / hunter x gn!reader

pairing: hunter x gn!reader (no y/n). reader has a nickname.

description: hunter is home for a little while, and with his free time, he teaches you how to twirl that vibroknife of his.

word count: 3,844

warnings: minor knife injury. non-graphic injury description. blood mention.

my first hunter x reader fic! i really loved writing hunter like this <3 he’s so sweet and soft. i hope you enjoy it <3

also posted this on ao3. feedback is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated <3

It was the morning after he’d come home. It wasn’t a permanent stay – it never was, but for now, Hunter sat on the couch in nothing but a white sleeveless undershirt that partially hid the dark hair that covered his chest. His bottom half wore loose grey pants and his hair was bandana-less and tucked behind his ears. His eyes were focused on the holo in front of him, one leg tucked under him, and whilst one arm was stretched out across the back of the couch, the other twirled his vibro-knife nimbly between his fingers.

He was as handsome as he was before he left months ago, perhaps even more so. You admired him from the kitchen, the kettle boiling in the background. You trailed your eyes over the skull tattoo covering half his face and continued down his arm, outlining the bones that lay underneath the skin.

He looked at home here; out of his armour and regulation blacks, and in the casual civvies he always kept in the dresser drawer you gave him. You knew he was aware of your lingering gaze, but he never seemed to mind when you admired him unabashedly like this.

The kettle sounded, snapping you out of your reverie, and you turned away to pour the hot water into two mugs. Hunter preferred tea, with caf usually putting his already heightened senses on edge. You carried over both mugs to the couch, Hunter’s gaze lifted to meet yours as you approached, giving you a closed-mouth smile as he placed the knife on the caf table in front of him and reached for his mug. It was his designated mug that you’d bought especially for him a while ago now. It had a cartoon bantha on it and Hunter pretended to hate it.

“Thank you, ner ka’ra,” he said, wrapping his hands around his mug before he took a sip. You smiled. His star.

These moments of domesticity were something you cherished. They were few and far between. So little time was spent just being together with Hunter. When he managed to see you, he was often only able to stay overnight before he left Coruscant again on yet another mission. He was usually exhausted when he came home to you, his body sagging as he finally let himself relax and crawl under the covers with you, but he still tried his best to stay awake for those moments together.

You’d spend as many hours as you could awake with him, talking into the night, holding each other, feeling your skin move over his before drifting off together. Any little bit of Hunter you got; you would take. You would savour it, cherish it and hold onto it until he came back again – because neither of you knew when that would be.

“Did you sleep okay?” you asked, bringing the warm drink to your lips, and blowing on it gently before sipping it.

Hunter swallowed some tea and smiled warmly at you. “Yeah. I knocked out pretty fast.”

“You did. I even had to take your bandana off.”

Hunter chuckled and ran his fingers through his curls. “Yeah. The mission on Felucia was…tougher than expected.”

You tried not to think about the life-threatening danger he would’ve been in because it didn’t matter now – he was here and safe. You took a sip of your tea. “How long are you staying this time?”

“Right now…until we’re called out. We’re on shore leave for the next couple of days, but we’re still on call. They could assign us earlier.”

You nodded in understanding as he brought the mug to his lips. With the holo playing softly in the background, you thought about his armour piled in the corner of your bedroom, what perils it must have gone through, and how different he looked without it on. His broad shoulders were not as squared and rigid. He looked more at ease. You wondered if, when the war was over, he’d always look like this – and whether you’d get the privilege to see him like that. You didn’t know what the end of the war would hold – if it ever came at all.

“What are your brothers doing with this short time off?”

Hunter shrugged as he took another sip. “The usual.”

“The usual,” you repeated, a teasing smile stretching on your lips. “Just like you.”

Hunter chuckled, placed his already empty mug on the caf table, and picked up his knife again. “You know how it is…the boys have their habits.”

You watched him twirl the knife around in his hand with a playful smirk. “Habits like that?”

Hunter looked at you and then at the knife in his hand and moved to place it down again. “I can stop.”

“I never said that,” you placed your mug down and rested your arm on the back of the sofa, leaning your head to gaze at him. “I like watching you do that.”

Hunter smiled and you could see the tips of his ears turn a little red. He started twirling the knife again, moving it through his fingers with ease. It was almost hypnotising, watching him move the knife with proficient practised movements. He spun it around horizontally, then back vertically, using his index and middle fingers to spin it in figure eights. He then switched to his left hand, repeating the movements. It always amazed you that he was ambidextrous, it was another thing in a long list of qualities you loved about him. He was great in so many ways, but to notice and know the smaller ones that you had to squint to find was almost an honour.

Hunter’s eyes flicked to you gazing at him, and your face must’ve held an expression of awe because he chuckled with amusement. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Very much, yes.”

Hunter laughed, his eyes crinkling up at the sides as the gravelly sound filled the apartment. He halted his movements and held the tip of the blade, handle out towards you. “Wanna have a go?”

You sat up, eyes wide in surprise. “Me? Are you sure?”

Hunter nodded and nudged the handle in your direction. “I’ll show you how.”

You gingerly took the knife from him. It was heavy in your hands, and you turned it over, admiring the personalised carvings in the handle that Hunter added himself. You ran a finger over the glowing yellow lines of the blade and looked up at him. his eyes were on you, something in his expression you couldn’t place…adoration maybe? Or longing? You weren’t sure, but there was a soft intensity to it that left you a little breathless. “You trust me with this?”

“I trust you with my life,” Hunter declared with no hesitation before he shuffled closer to you. Butterflies erupted in your stomach at his proclamation. You trusted him with yours too.

His left leg still pulled up under him, he turned to face you. You mirrored him, crossing your legs as he reached out to touch your hand, holding it in his palm. “I think it goes without saying that we turn the knife by holding the base. You don’t want your fingers near the blade,” he said, using his other hand to trace the handle. “You need to keep the knife balanced, so you need to find the midpoint of the knife. It won’t always be equal halves; some handles are heavier than others and some blades are heavier – it all depends on the knife.”

You nodded along to his words. It seemed simple enough. “Can you find the midpoint?” he asked, moving his hands away. You adjusted your grip, using your fingers to feel the weight of the blade and handle dip on each side until you found the mid-point – just below the top of the handle. You looked up at him for approval and he nodded. “Good. We’ll start slow. First, I’ll show you how to change from a saber grip to a reverse grip; get you used to moving the knife in your hand first.”

You smiled and nodded. You liked seeing him like this, you could see why he was the leader of his squad. “Can you show me first?”

Hunter nodded, taking the knife from your hand, and demonstrating how to change grips. You watched the movement with a furrow in your brow, confused at how he even did that. “Can you show me slower?”

Hunter chuckled. “I’m getting there, ka’ra.” He held the knife still. “You need to hold the knife in the base of your hand, with your palm underneath it, so the knife is secure. Like this,” he showed you, turning his hand so you could see.

You nodded. “Then what?”

“Then you wanna place the handle between your middle and index finger, and then place your thumb underneath the handle so it rests on the other side. Then move your thumb to rotate the base to the top, making sure to keep your other fingers away from the blade and then you wrap your hand around the handle.” He demonstrated the movement slowly, as he talked through it, clearly showing each stage.

You watched intently, trying not to get distracted by his smoky voice and his hands as he spoke. You tried to focus on the words and not on the taunt tendons of his hand as he gripped the knife. You tried to focus on the movements and not his dextrous fingers and the bone tattoo that extended down to his wrist and arm.

“You can use the same technique to move back and forth.” He held out the handle. “Wanna have a go?”

You blinked up at him, his caf-coloured eyes on yours. “Sure.”

You took the knife from him and found the mid-point before you followed his instructions, slowly but successfully changing your grip. You looked up at him with an expression somewhere between elation and pride. “I did it!”

Hunter smiled warmly at you; pride present in the creases of his smile. “Very good. Giving me a run for my credits.”

You laughed and he smiled wider at you. You repeated the technique a few times, the movement becoming more fluid as you practised. Hunter watched you, gently adjusting your fingers at some points. His warm hands over yours, giving you little tips. You smiled at him as he looked up from where your hands touched between you, and he smiled back, his hair coming out from its place behind his ear. He tucked the loose curl back. “You’re getting the hang of it.”

“I have a good teacher.”

The corner of his mouth tipped up. “Wanna try twirling it now?”

You nodded, a little unsure, which he read on your face instantly. “I told you; we’ll take it slow.” Hunter took the knife from your hand and started explaining how to twirl the knife, demonstrating it nimbly before breaking it down in steps slowly. You noted which fingers the knife needed to be in between as it moved over his hand. It was a little daunting and confusing, but Hunter’s teaching was calm and patient.

He seemed eager to show you this skill; to show you a part of himself and share it with you like this. You knew how his vibroknife was a huge part of who he was as a soldier – becoming proficient in it as a cadet. It was his thing. And as you’d grown closer, he’d always taken an interest in the things you enjoyed, and you always tried to do the same.

But this was something else. He had this air about him when he explained the technique – he was so open, the Coruscant sun streaming through the window and lighting his features, making the blade in his hand glint and silhouetting his hooked nose, his dark brown eyes bright. It was easy to fall in love with Hunter, but it was even easier when you saw him like this.

“Ka’ra?” Hunter’s frown broke your daydreams about him. “You all right?”

You blinked. “Hmm? Yeah, of course. Why?”

“I asked if you want to have a go now.” He said with an amused smirk.

You felt your cheeks go warm. “Sure. I’ll try.” You took the knife from him and got your grip ready.

“Just start slowly. And be careful of the blade, keep your fingers away from it.”

“I know,” you smiled and placed the knife between your thumb and index finger, then slipped the middle finger underneath and weaved the knife slowly through your fingers with your brow furrowed. Hunter watched your movements as you bit your lip, trying to manoeuvre the knife.

“Steady…” Hunter guided. You frowned as the knife suddenly got too heavy between your fingers, and you lost your grip. It slipped out from between your middle and fourth fingers and fell. On reflex, you tried to catch the knife in your hand, but it sliced your palm before landing on the couch between you. It all happened so quickly. You yelped as Hunter, only a split second too late, reached out to your hand as the knife fell, his eyes wide.

“Dank farrik,” he said as you clutched your hand with the other tightly, compressing the wound with your thumb, curling your fingers around the back of your hand. Hunter grabbed onto your wrist with one hand, looking at your tightly wound hands with a frantic expression before he cupped your face in his other hand. “Ka’ra, are you okay? Kriff, where’s your med kit?”

You winced at the stinging pain. “I’m okay. It’s in the bathroom under the sink.”

Hunter jumped up and raced to the bathroom. You heard doors slam and products clatter as he rummaged for it. Your cheeks flamed with embarrassment. How could you be so stupid and let the knife fall? You had been too busy thinking about how pretty Hunter was to pay attention.

Hunter came jogging out with the med kit. Before he sat down, he picked up the knife and put it out of reach from both of you. He opened the kit on the caf table and rifled through it for some antibac.

“I’m sorry,” you said, wincing as you felt the blood begin to pull in your palm. “I didn’t mean to drop it.”

“Why are you apologising? It’s not your fault,” he turned back to you, this worried expression on his face that you had never really seen before and already knew you hated. You wanted to press your thumb into the crease of his brows to remove it. “Can you show me the wound? I need to see how deep it is and apply the antibac.”

You slowly unfurled your hand and removed your thumb compression, grimacing. Hunter’s frown deepened as he saw the wound. It was almost three inches long and stretched diagonally across your palm. He placed his hand gently under yours, resting it in his palm as he looked at it. “It doesn’t look deep. I think you’ve only just sliced it. It doesn’t need stitches,” Hunter said firmly. He was in Sergeant mode. “I’m going to mop up the blood, and then clean it before applying some bacta, okay?”

You nodded and watched him grab a sterile cloth and mop up as much of the blood as he could. His touch was gentle, cradling your hand in his as he blotted the wound.

“This is going to sting a little, okay?” He warned, his voice soft again before he placed the antibac wipe on the wound. You sucked in a breath, holding it for a moment before sighing once the stinging stopped. You felt Hunter’s thumb rub reassuring circles on the back of your hand as he cleaned the wound. The skin of his hand was smooth, if not slightly dry. Other than those caresses, he was quiet, frown still etched into his face as he avoided looking at you. Focused only on the task at hand.

You trailed your eyes up his arm, following the bone tattoo that was covered in soft dark downy hair on his forearm, to his shoulders and across his chest and collarbones. Your eyes moved to watch his face. The beginnings of stubble formed along his cheeks and jaw. You couldn’t even count the times you’d kissed all over this tattoo, feeling his cheeks stretch into a rare wide smile under your lips.

Now, his lips were pressed into a firm line, seemingly deep in thought as he silently cleaned the wound and the rest of your palm. You wondered what kinds of thoughts were swirling around that beautiful head of his. You immediately felt bad for ruining his good mood with your clumsiness.

“I’m sorry, Hunter,” you repeated with a furrowed brow as you watched him. “I should’ve been more careful.”

Hunter looked up at you, a frown still on his face. “Don’t apologise. It’s my fault.”

Your frown deepened. “You weren’t holding the knife.”

He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t have had you practising with a sharp blade like that. Especially not on your first go.”

It all clicked. Hunter wasn’t mad at you. He was mad at himself.

Your expression softened. “It’s okay.”

Hunter shook his head again, still avoiding your gaze with an angry expression on his face as he applied a bacta patch to your palm, smoothing it over with his thumb. “You got hurt.” He said it simply, like it was the only fact that mattered to him.

You tilted your head to look at him. “Things happen, Hunter.”

“They shouldn’t. Not when I’m here.” You watched him carefully as he wrapped a bandage around the bacta patch. “I’m sorry,” he said when he secured the bandage, bringing your hand up to his lips and placing a kiss on the bandaged wound.

“Hunter,” you started, placing your uninjured hand on his cheek, rubbing your thumb over his cheekbone. “It was an accident. It was nobody’s fault. Please, don’t blame yourself.”

Hunter closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, inhaling your skin before moving his head to kiss your wrist. “It’s my job to keep the people I care about safe.”

“And you’re great at it. Your brothers are lucky to have you looking out for them. You’re so good at what you do, and one accident won’t change that. I hate seeing you punish yourself for things out of your control.” You hold up your injured hand where the soreness is already beginning to dull with the bacta. “Look how quickly you patched me up, and so gently. It already feels better. I’m almost all fixed. Barely even hurts anymore.”

Hunter let out a puff of breath and the corner of his mouth turned up. “I guess you’re right.”

You smiled warmly at him. “Of course, I am.”

Hunter chuckled and nodded to the knife at the end of the caf table. “You almost had it though. Maybe…I’ll give you one of my old training knives…and you can practice while I’m gone?”

Your smile widened. “I’d really like that.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled him to you. You felt his arms wrap around your torso and hold you tightly. His face buried in your neck as he relaxed in your arms.

You hoped the embrace held all the words you didn’t know how to say; words that reassured him that you were okay; that the burdens he placed upon himself didn’t need to be so heavy; that you wished you could take some of the weight off his shoulders, not add to it; that you loved him more and more every day and you didn’t think you would ever stop.

You felt him pull your forward as he leaned back on the couch, lying horizontally. You laughed as he pulled you on top of him, careful of your injured hand, your legs between his, chest to chest. You could feel his heartbeat against yours, steady and strong. His arms locked you to him, head nuzzled into your skin because you knew he loved breathing you in from that exact spot.

He once told you that your invisible scent was strongest there. He always retreated into that crook of your neck when he’d come home from a rough run of missions or was tired, or he simply just wanted to be close to you. You supposed he found it comforting, and who were you to deny him of it?

You made room for him by tilting angling your head a little more and spoke into his shoulder, your lips on his warm brown skin. “I mean, I won’t like you being gone but…”

You felt a chuckle rumble through Hunter’s chest. “I have a duty, ner ka’ra.”

“I thought you and your squad didn’t follow orders?”

You felt Hunter smile into your skin as he rolled you off him, so you occupied the space between his chest and the back of the couch. He placed a soft kiss where your neck meets your shoulders before he slowly kissed his way up behind your ear. You closed your eyes and smiled before he pulled back. You trailed your hands down his arms and cracked open your eyes slowly to see Hunter gazing at you. You felt your heartbeat increase as Hunter lifted a hand to hold your chin with his thumb and index finger, a soft expression on his face.

You watched his eyes trace your lips as he brushed the pad of his thumb over them and leaned in, slanting his lips over yours softly. You melted into the kiss, hands gripping at the thin fabric of his undershirt as he kissed you – your injured palm was all but forgotten. Hunter always made things better.

It was a gentle kiss – like if he kissed you too hard after your injury you might break again – but it was by no means unpassionate. He pulled you closer, cupping your face, deepening the kiss, and you moved to clutch his curls. You could smell the forest-scented shampoo he used and feel his breath tickling your cheek.

After a moment that could’ve been seconds, minutes, or hours long, he slowly pulled away, smiling out of the side of his mouth. You chuckled and rubbed your nose against his, making his chest rumble again. “Would you like another cup of tea?” he asked just above a whisper in the space between you. “I’d like to make one for you.”

You caressed his cheek. “I’d love one.”

Hunter rolled back off the couch and stood up. The sunlight from the window behind him formed a halo around his silhouette, making him look so ethereal and completely and utterly beautiful you couldn’t believe this man was yours. He leaned down to place a kiss on the top of your head before he grabbed your two empty mugs and padded into the kitchen. You sat up to watch him as he filled up the kettle and flicked it on, looking right at home.

thank you for reading <3 here is a gif of hunter’s knife twirling bc it was playing in my head over and over as i wrote this:

tags (please let me know if you would like to be removed/added): @crosshairs-wife @seriowan @fives-girlfriend @starrylothcat @crosshairsnose @jesseeka @wreckers-wife @leavingkamino @wanderer-six@32rotations @moodymisty @snarky-mans-gf @sinfulsalutations @nahoney22 @mylifeisactuallyamess @bobafettsstarship @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @cloned-eyes @thegalaxys-edge @chopper-base @wenalena @pb-jellybeans @bluebird-dreams @a-streakofblue @rexamongthestars @r2d2staser @theawkwardartist12 @marierg @echoleo @whiskeysrevolvers @anythingbutmynamebro

#larissa writes #hunter x reader #hunter x reader fic #hunter fluff #soft hunter #tbb x reader #tbb hunter #the bad batch hunter #hunter fic #the bad batch fluff #hunter the bad batch #sorry i just added a bunch of people who rblogged or replied to my latest crosshair fic bc i thought maybe you would like this too #sorry if you don't like being tagged

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