#tbb crosshair fan fiction

[skellymom]

"Bring Me To My Knees" PART 2

Crosshair/Hunter x Reader Non Gendered SMUT++

Dividers by the talented: @saradika and @4ngelic-wh1spers

Background: Reader and Crosshair are separated from the group during the rescue of Omega and Tech from Mt Tantiss. Two broken people trying to get by in the galaxy. Then two broken people finally dealing with what happened to their group.

Word Count: 2.3K

Warning: Star Wars Canon violence, angst, death of major character, sadness, crying, guilt, permanent injury, stuff blowing up, swearing, kissing, intercourse, heavy petting, bite kind, blood kink, pain kink, spank kink, smutty/lemony content, lovers triangle with Hunter and Crosshair.

FOR CLARITY, HUNTER FLASHBACK SMUT SCENE IN CHAPTER 1. THE CROSSHAIR SMUT SCENE IS IN THIS CHAPTER 2. Broke this up in 2 chapters because I just couldn't stop writing...and 4K might be too much for one sitting.

I purposely wrote the reader in this fic to be of no specific gender. Tried to carefully craft the sexual scenes to accommodate either gender/non gendered/trans/genderfluid/non-binary. Everyone has hills, valleys, sexual organs, nipples, and erogenous zones. I wrote them into the story, but it's up to you dear reader to put your imagination to work. Hope I have done a good enough job that you can enjoy yourself with Hunter and Crosshair without breaking immersion!

To read Chapter 1:

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/744267915687264256/bring-me-to-my-knees-part-1?source=share

The intel proved to be correct. You and Crosshair traveled to an uncharted planet well past the Outer Rim. A quiet unassuming place to start planning a burgeoning Rebellion. 

He piloted. As your ship entered planetary airspace several Rebel ships swooped in as escorts. The Rebel base radioed in to confirm your status. 

“Crosshair, Clone Force 99 and Y/N, civilian. We are Rebel sympathizers wanting to join the Rebel cause and find our lost family and squad members.” You replied. 

“Authenticating data. Hold your position.” 

Silence as you and Crosshair waited on bated breath. 

“You are clear to land. We will perform a customary inspection of your transport. Then check your gunnery and weapons at the docking station armory.” 

“They’ll be taking my rifle OVER my DEAD body.” Crosshair snarked. 

“Toothpick?” 

“Hhm?” 

“It’s your gun, NOT your dick. Let them do their job.” 

He sighed and shook his head. 

Word must have spread fast. No sooner did you land than Omega was out the bay door jumping up and down in excitement. 

Crosshair barely got the gangplank down on the ship. You jumped over the stairs and landed on your hands and knees. Sprung up and ran to her. 

Omega knocked you over with her embrace. You were both laying there crying. She had grown two heads taller and much stronger too. 

Rebel soldiers had come out to check the validity of your claims. They stood aside seeing at least one of their residents recognize you. They had witnessed MANY reunions just like this as people were finding their way to the planet.  

There was more: Wrecker wasn’t far behind. He scooped you both up and hugged you fiercely. 

“AWWW...SO GLAD YOU’RE HERE! MISSED YA HORRIBLY!!!” Wiping away tears. 

Echo approached with Phee. 

Wrecker let you go, and you embraced them both with each arm. 

“Phee...what happened???” Her beautiful hair was gone. Head covered and tied fashionably with a scarf. Burn scar down one side of her face. You noticed one hand had scars as well. 

She shot Echo a strange look, then shrugged and perked up. “It’s growing back. Getting bacta therapy for the scars.” 

“Tech? Hunter? Are they here?” 

Echo answered “Come inside. We’ll get you settled.” 

“Wait, I didn’t come alone.” 

You turned towards your ship. Crosshair was standing at the bottom of the stairs. 

Omega gave him a bear hug. He had allowed her that. Wrecker stood a few feet away watching them.  

Echo took your hand. “Let’s give them some time to catch up.” 

He and Phee led you inside the base past bustling personnel.  

“Wait...I didn’t check my blaster...” 

“That’s ok” Phee patted your shoulder. “We vouched for you. Crosshair though...” 

You approached an open medical station with bacta tanks lined up...recognizing... 

“TECH!” 

He bobbed merrily in the solution, waving at your arrival. 

You stopped to see he was missing both legs...just like Echo. There were scars all over his body, some weren’t present during his rescue. Tech saw your face and immediately started signing in Basic. 

It is no major loss. I will be fine. Only 20 more rotations within this tank, then I shall be fitted for my prosthetics...please...don’t cry. 

Things were starting to come together...Phee’s hair loss and burns...the Marauder being hit... 

“WHERE’S HUNTER???” You yelled it in a panic. 

Echo stepped in and took your hand. “Y/N... he...” The look on his face told you this wouldn’t be good news. Echo’s eyes registered the scarf draped around your neck. 

There was a commotion behind you at the entrance of the base. Crosshair’s voice. Arguing with two Rebel troopers over his lack of compliance regarding check-in. 

“Sir! We need you to...” 

“NOT NOW! Can’t you see MY PARTNER is in distress!!!” 

The trooper grabbed his arm. Crosshair immediately disarmed the man and put his ass on the floor. Then handed the troopers gun to HIS partner sneering, “I said FUCK OFF!” 

The second trooper took the gun and commed for backup. 

Crosshair stalked over gently putting his hands on your shoulders. Fixing Echo with his baleful stare. “Where’s Hunter?” 

Echo fixed you both with his amber eyes. He sighed; his expression was so sad. “I’ll take you to him.” 

Tech tapped on the tank to get Crosshair’s attention. Cross glanced over shocked. He hadn’t recognized who was in there. Then he noticed Tech’s condition. 

I’ll be ok brother. He signed.  

Tech put his hand up against the glass. Crosshair placed his on the other side against Tech’s. 

The trooper’s backup arrived and trained their blasters on Crosshair. He turned and eyed them menacingly. Then dropped his hands from your shoulders, one of which you grabbed. 

“Don’t start any shit, Toothpick. Please, this isn’t the time.” Squeezing his hand firmly. 

He squeezed your hand back and stood down. 

“Break it up Trooper. These are friendlies.” Captain Rex emerged from the back of the squad. 

“But sir, he assaulted one of our Rebel staff. And he refused to check his rifle.” Pointing to Stormpuncher mounted on Crosshair’s back. 

“I’ll handle it, Trooper. You are all dismissed.” 

The Rebel squad eyed Crosshair uneasily as they filed away from the scene. 

“Good to see you both alive and well.” Rex smiled genuinely. “But I’ll let Echo catch you up on everything.” He nodded to Echo and stepped away. 

At this point Wrecker and Omega joined the group. 

“Follow me.” Echo instructed. 

You glanced at Tech as the group started to walk away. He smiled wistfully.  

“I got them Brown Eyes.” She winked at Tech, and he winked back. But he still looked concerned. 

Phee put her arm around your shoulder and walked with you. Crosshair followed at your other side silently. 

The group filed through the whole facility: past logistics, maintenance, troop training, mess, quarters, a small prison area (mostly empty), daycare, pet kennel, a few non-descript departments, and finally to the back end of the facility. The group approached heavy double doors. 

There was a sense of dread in your chest. Everyone was quiet. Echo looked heartbroken as he swiped his key card over the lock mechanism.  

The doors opened to the outside. A HUGE garden stretching for over a mile...planted with the bodies of those fallen from the Empire. Headstones, holoshrines, helmets, and all manner of tributes marked each plot. Adults, children, military, civilians, even service animals. Droids who could not be repaired were erected as tribute statuary with holoplaques proclaiming their sacrifice. 

Hunter was there. Laid to rest several rows down from the entrance. 

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks. 

“This isn’t real...” Shaking your head but staring straight ahead at Hunter’s helmet propped up on his plot. “NO... can’t.” Tears running down your face. 

Phee rubbed your back. “I’m SO sorry.” She was crying too. “Broody saved my life. I almost burned to death.” She pulled off the scarf to reveal the severity of her injuries. “I’m the reason he’s here.” 

Wrecker piped up “Noo, that’s not true. He would’ve done it for anyone on that ship.” He hugged Phee. 

Survivor’s guilt. Your heart went out to her.    

Crosshair took your hand and silently encouraged you to step down into the memorial and go to Hunter’s plot. You inhaled and stepped down...then your legs gave out. Crosshair grabbed your right shoulder. Echo ran over and supported your left. 

They led you to the plot. Wrecker, Phee, and Omega stayed behind. 

Soft grass was planted for whomever wished to sit and visit. Hunter’s helmet was surrounded by vivid red Poppies in full bloom. Echo seated you upon the grass. Crosshair kneeling beside you.  

“Can I do anything at all for you both.” He inquired. 

Silence. 

“Uh...I’ll give you some privacy.” 

“Echo?” 

“Yeah?” 

You swept him up in a hug again. “Thank you...for everything.” Tears returning. 

“Oh, of course.” He embraced you back. Holding on for some time. 

Echo patted your back and cleared his throat. He let go and wiped a tear from his face. 

Then he was gone.   

Crosshair sat stone faced staring at Hunter’s helmet bereft of emotion. It was the best he could do at this moment. 

You took off the red scarf, slipped it over Hunter’s helmet, and arranged it as if draped off Hunter’s own shoulders. 

Like he was sitting right in front of you with his bucket on... 

A sudden loud sob escaped. Each exhalation became louder until it ended in a scream. Your face red and pressed into the warm grass. Watering Hunter’s grave with your tears. Freeing the emotion out of the pit of your being. Screaming, sobbing until empty, finally collapsing from exhaustion. 

The afternoon progressed and the sun started to dip down towards the horizon. 

“Hey” Crosshair nudged you from disassociation. “Let’s go.” 

Numb, you let him haul you up under the shoulders. Standing, your vision went snowy and black.   

Crosshair must have carried you to the ship. The next few days were a blur, you slept through most of it. He hovered, fixing ration soup and just about threatening to force feed you. Trading whatever he could for black market sweets just to get ANYTHING into your belly. You barely remember Echo, Wrecker, Omega, or Phee visiting. Or AZI monitoring your vitals, reporting them well within range, that it was “only” grief and would eventually pass. 

Finally, after days in your bunk Crosshair had enough. 

“Soup!” He poked you awake. 

“Whaa?” Weakly turning over, burrowing under the blanket. 

“Get up. You STINK!” 

“Fuck off Crossy...” 

“Get up, or I’m throwing you INTO the refresher. Clothes and all.” 

You ignored him. 

Crosshair reached under the blanket and yanked you up. You caterwauled hurling swears, too weak to fight. But you were strong enough to hold on. 

He opened the refresher door and attempted to set you down. You stuck to him like shit on a Bantha’s behind. It turned into a wrestling match, both of you swearing at one another. One hand pried off him, then another would latch on, finally tearing his shirt to shreds. 

Cross gave up and flipped on the water soaking you both. The cold spray only made you hold on tighter, pressing against his chest for warmth. He gave up, sighed, adjusted the temp to warm. 

“Will you wash my hair?” 

Sighing again. “Yes.” 

You let go and turned your back to him. Crosshair lathered up his hands. 

“Wait.” You pulled the soaked T-shirt over your head and threw it in the corner of the shower. Now you're only clad in underwear. “Ok.” 

He applied the shampoo and did one helluva job massaging it into your hair. You smiled and groaned at the sensation. He finished by twisting the hair into a soapy point atop your head. 

“Will you wash my back and neck?” 

Heavy sigh. But he did. His hands were amazing. 

“Toothpick, will...” 

“I’m NOT washing your dirty ass...or anything else. You can reach.” Cross rinsed his hands and exited the refresher, leaving you to finish the job. 

You finally exited the shower feeling and smelling much better. 

Clean towels and comfy clothing were waiting for you. A non-descript box sat atop them.  

Dried, dressed, brushed your hair and nasty teeth. Then opened the box. The beautiful black and silver scarf from Mel and Marv’s stand. Toothpick paid attention...and had held on to it the whole time. 

You put it on and made your way back through the darkened ship. 

Crosshair was waiting, sitting on a blanket spread out on the floor. There was a multitude of fresh food and rations upon it. Also, a lit candle in the middle. The kind he would razz you about that “smelled like flowers and shit.” 

You smiled. “Is this a date?” Attempting some levity. 

“Sit your ass down and eat.” 

“Thank you.” Caressing the scarf around your neck. 

“For what?” He played dumb. You could see he noticed. 

“Everything. Being there for...” You couldn’t bear to speak it. “Taking care of me, this food...” 

“Can’t have you dying on me. Would have smelled worse than you already did.” 

“Oh...and that shower brawl...” looking up from your food. “THAT was certainly SOMETHING.” 

Crosshair grinned. “You owe me a new shirt.” 

“Do I, now? Well, don’t wear clothes in the refresher when you decide to throw me in.” 

He cocked an eyebrow while biting into a ration bar. 

“Then when I grab something, it’ll be foreplay.” 

Crosshair choked on his food. 

You stuffed yourself full. Satisfied, thanking Crosshair again (who rolled his eyes), and wandered back to your bunk. 

He had changed the bedding out while you were in the refresher. It was clean and the blanket turned over, inviting you to slide in. 

It felt wonderful burrowing into the clean sheets. 

But sleep was elusive tonight. 

The grief was still too much for you both. 

Two people alone on a dark, silent ship. The distance between you palpable. 

“Are...you awake?” he furtively asked with hushed tones in the dark. 

“Umhmm.” Intrigued as to why he asked. Sitting up and sliding your legs off to the side of the bunk. 

Silence. 

You sat there in the dark waiting for an answer. 

More silence... 

(You like a song to go with the following scene? Please check it out. Smutty, but emotional)

...then Crosshairs hand gently smoothing away the hair from your temple. 

You immediately embraced him tightly. 

He falters for just a beat.  Body frozen for what seems like an eternity.  Would this scare him away? 

Then you feel his arms encircle you, lips upon your cheek...kissing down to your lips. 

Unable to hold back any further, you turn your head to meet his lips to yours. 

Mouths opening to breathe into the well of one another.  Sliding upon each other passionately.  Breaths furiously taken in between long heated kisses. 

Then parting quickly to pull the clothing from each other's body.  Almost ripping the cloth away from bare skin.  Occasional moans of longing for skin-to-skin contact. 

Finally free of constraints, he stops to visually take you in... 

...he’s waited SO LONG for this moment. Couldn’t help admiring your strength while rescuing him on Tantiss...but finding out you bonded romantically to Hunter... 

“I... I’m afraid...” Terror and shame on his face. 

This shocks you to hear such words fall from his lips. He’s so VULNERABLE...kneeling next to you proclaiming his feelings. 

You reach out and stroke the side of his face, then firmly grip this chin. “So am I. But it’s just the two of us now.” 

You both stare into the lonely abyss of each other's eyes. 

“And I CAN’T STAND being alone.” 

“Then you WON’T be...EVER” He reaches out across the space between, pulling you to his body. His heat, his need. 

You have your own need, your heat blazes HOT with his deep kisses. Tongues intertwining.  

Then he pulls away to bury his face next to your ear whispering EVERY DIRTY THING he’s going to do to you while nuzzling and nipping your ear. Rubbing his hard cock along your shin, sliding along the wetness it leaves behind. 

You moan loudly...” Oh...fuck me...” 

“Mhmm...” trailing his tongue down your neck. His hands caressing the inside of your thighs. Stopping just short of your sex. Teasing his fingers around it...teasing you into fever pitch. 

Your hand on his shoulder digs your nails into his flesh. He moans in ecstasy from the pain. Trailing down your chest to nip and lick at your nipples. Crosshair stares up adoringly with half hooded eyes. 

His hand casually brushes your sex and trails away. 

Smiling while he teases. 

You grip the edge of the bunk, bracing your feet on the floor, and buck out your hips in the air, gasping, baring your teeth. 

Then he playfully but firmly slaps your sex. 

It pisses you off while turning you on at the same time. The tension building. 

His cock is SO slippery against your leg. The breath coming from him labored and shaky. Tracing your thighs just so closely to where you want to be stimulated, then away again. 

“FUCK ME!” You growl deeply through your teeth.  Something FERAL awakening in you. Shaking, sweating, digging harder into his shoulder. It starts to bleed, and his eyes roll back in his head.  

His facial expression turns intense. He slaps your sex again. You moan louder, then growl again. 

The teasing. It’s driving you INSANE. 

He knows you’re about to lose it... 

Crosshair stops kissing your chest, put’s his snarky, sexy, come-fuck-me-face up to your ear...  

“...Mmm...bite me...” 

Back somewhere in your sexually addled lizard brain registers this could be literal instead of figurative. 

And he slaps you...ONE MORE TIME... 

Without thinking you sink your teeth into his other shoulder. Blood seeping into your mouth. 

Crosshair screams out in fevered sexual ecstasy...frotting his weeping cock furiously against your leg. 

His slapping hand comes back fully on your sex, furiously stimulating... 

...kneading... 

...filling up your intimate spaces... 

...sliding.... 

...you buck your hips tightly against the hand that services you... 

...as the pressure of your molars squeeze the flesh of his shoulder...it’s heavenly pressure...the taste of copper as you suck it down... 

Crosshair’s fevered thrusts of his hips. 

The fevered ministrations of his hand. 

Ragged breaths mixed with groans...whimpers... 

You release your mouth from his shoulder, as you gasp for air... blood trailing down his back from the punctures. Small crimson rivulets running down your chin, neck, across your erect nipples...you fall back...Pressing your head into the bunk...eyes widening...mouth open. His left hand on the small of your back like a spotter, his right sending you over the edge... 

Clenching your abdomen...you feel that tickle...the beginning of... 

Crosshair stops and pulls his hand away. You grab his arm devastated, angry even to be thwarted from your orgasm. 

Breathlessly “I want to FEEL you...from the INSIDE.” It’s not presented as a question. But he’s waiting for your consent. 

You reach down, stroke his sopping wet member. He moans and shudders. Then brush a ghost of a kiss across Crosshair’s forehead as you scoot fully onto the bunk and open yourself up to him. Your seductive gaze is inviting. 

Up off his knees, he slinks over you on the bunk. Staring like a hungry animal.  

For a fleeting moment, you don’t see Crosshair there...just Hunter. Your desire threatens to topple over into grief...all these emotions bubbling up from the surface. That scar will NEVER be totally healed. The sadness that will NEVER totally leave. 

Crosshair watches the subtle changes of your expression and senses this. He understands. While there are differences, it’s his loss too. 

He covers his body with yours, basking in the warmth skin to skin. Then takes your face in his hands. Touching foreheads, he whispers promises for you both in the future. All the things you will do together and the burdens you will both share and support each other through. Every one of them ends with a kiss as a promise.  

“I’m not Hunter...but...I’ll work on being a better man than I was in my past.”  

“I don’t want you to live in Hunter’s shadow. You’re different. Our relationship will be different.” 

Silence. 

“I’m SO SORRY you lost your brother.” 

Crosshair covers his face with his hand. Silent tears spill out between his fingers. 

You say no more and hold him tightly. Knowing it was A LOT for him to even let go like this. Knowing the relationship, he had with especially Hunter was fraught with so much emotional angst. And the heavy burden Crosshair holds about the horrible things he did at the end. 

You both lay there for some time wrapped up together in each other's arms...just being. Crosshair’s head resting on your chest, listening to your heartbeat. You rubbing gentle circles though his hair. 

Finally, he speaks, “Would you like me to finish?” Looking up at you seriously with those intense dark eyes. 

You read him like a book. He knows you too well now. There’s a deep care for one another. But you both know the sex tonight will be for dealing with the grief. That's ok though. It’s an unspoken agreement of how this will help the two of you bond and heal.  

You’ll both drink, fight, fuck, laugh, and all manner of things together while dealing with this shared grief. Whatever gets you by. It’ll bind you both thick as thieves. 

“Yes.” 

He kisses down your body to your sex. Licking, sucking, lavishing you with an intensity that prevents you from lying still. All the while grinding his returned erection into the sheets, soaking them. 

You both begin to get vocal. He adds more stimulation with his fingers, driving you wild. Grasping the bedding, you arch your back again. With the pressure in your core, his tongue wetly sliding over your sex...your breathing reaches a fever pitch...the tingling returns... 

“Crosshair...” 

He stops, sits up, gently pulls your hips to position, and slides his length into you. 

“Fuuuck...” he groans loudly, slowly pulling out, then slowly sliding in...he wants to feel it ALL. No rush. Just the amazing sensation...every inch...of him...against you... 

...sliding out... 

...sliding in... 

His legs are shaking. 

Your breath not just respirations but moans to the timing of his thrusts. 

...sliding out... 

...sliding in... 

Crosshair’s eyes are hooded in desire. He can see you’re about to cum. A crooked, horny smile crosses his face. 

The tingle becomes a wave... 

IT RUSHES THROUGH YOU like beautiful warm surf racing towards your sex... 

...and reaches its destination... 

You arch your back deeper...He’s watching you at the apex of your orgasm. Time seems to slow down for a few seconds. Eyes open with no angst, anger, judgement, spite, sass...his eyes...the window to a man WIDE OPEN at this moment in time. He’s telling you with his eyes what his voice could not.  

You’re staring above right into those eyes as your head presses just a centimeter deeper into the bedding...you inhale DEEPLY as those warm tendrils explode deep at the base of your core.  

Orgiastic moan-scream comes from your mouth so intensely you feel it in the roof of your mouth. Vision fuzzing out slightly. Tiny warm explosions of nerves firing everywhere in your body.  

Crosshair squeezes you tightly, screaming gutturally, eyes shut tight, and shuddering inside you with his own climax. Both of your sensory stimuli shut out to the outside world: Only aware of you both connected at the junction of your bodies.  

And then the orgasm dissipates like a wave being pulled back out to sea. Seafoam settling in and tickling the shoals of your sex.  

You feel warm and tingly...the rush of all those endorphins. He collapses gently on top of you. Gathering each other up in embrace. 

laying in each other’s arms realizing the future is wide open. It's a bit daunting...scary even. But you have each other. And, for now, that will do. 

PLEASE like, comment, and/or REBLOG!

#the bad batch #star wars #tbb #bad batch #clone force 99 #tbb crosshair #the bad batch crosshair #reader x tbb crosshair #reader x the bad batch crosshair #tbb crosshair fan fic #tbb crosshair fan fiction #the bad batch crosshair fan fic #the bad batch crosshair fan fiction #skellymom #bring me to my knees #tbb fan fic #the bad batch fan fiction #tbb crosshair smut #the bad batch crosshair smut #tbb crosshair smut fan fic #tbb crosshair smut fan fiction #tbb crosshair lemony content #the bad batch crosshair lemony content #clone thirsting #tbb clone smut #the bad batch clone smut #tbb clone thirsting #the bad batch clone thirsting #tbb crosshair x non gendered reader #the bad batch x non gendered reader

[lornaka]

Danger noodle 🐍🧡

#Who needs therapy when you can project onto fictional characters and channel it into fan art 😎 #at this point I'm just a pile of angsty Crosshair sketches in a trench coat #the bad batch #the bad batch fanart #crosshair #tbb crosshair #tbb fanart #lornart #star wars

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

Sorry, Wrong Comms! Masterlist

Season one Bad Batch AU fic; our favorite squadron of rouge Clones escapes the Empire (some more reluctantly than others) post Order 66 and do their best to make their way in a turbulent galaxy. When a medical emergency puts one of their own at risk, they're forced to seek out medical help, and end up forging a friendship in the woman who kindly helps them.

She may be a simple medic, but she's no stranger to the sick and injured of the galaxy, even when things get grisly once more for the Bad Batch...

Please mind the warnings for each chapter as there are things like vague medical terminology, near death(s), mild injury description + care, blood, drugs (both medical and **recreational references), use of restraints, needles (autoinjectors), nausea and non-descriptive mentions of vomit, language and minor adult themes throughout the series.

*RATING: 16+ | STATUS: Complete | POV: 3rd Person | Fem Reader

🩺Chapter 1

🩺Chapter 2

🩺Chapter 3

🩺Chapter 4

🩺Chapter 5

🩺Chapter 6

🩺Chapter 7

🩺Chapter 7.5

🩺Chapter 8

🩺Chapter 9

🩺Chapter 10

🩺Chapter 11

🩺Chapter 12

Started: 5/1/2023 | Finished: 7/24/2023 | Total word count: 82,209

*I am aware chapters will say "Intended audience is 13+"; these were written some time ago and new edits will not always "take" when I have tried to save them.

**This is a one-time occurrence.

#frostfics #Sorry Wrong Comms! #star wars #sw tbb fanfic #sw tbb #tbb #the bad batch #star wars fan fiction #star wars au #star wars x reader #tbb x reader #tbb hunter x reader #hunter x reader #hunter x you #tbb hunter #hunter tbb #sergeant hunter #tbb crosshair #tbb tech #tbb omega #tbb wrecker #tbb echo #clone force 99 #captain rex #(he plays a small part in the series but important enough to warrant tagging!)

[techhasmjolnir]

Writings Master List

This will be the place where you can easily find all of my writings. Stories will be listed in the chronological order they were written.

If you like my content, please feel free to drop me some love, and reblog!

**If you would like to be tagged for future writings, please don't hesitate to ask!

The Bad Batch - Trivial Pursuit (Tech x F Reader)

The Bad Batch - Rites of the Covenant (Hunter x F Reader)

The Bad Batch - Dealer's Choice (The Boys x F Reader)

The Bad Batch - Give Me Three, the Gift of One (Crosshair & Tech x F Reader) (WIP)

#star wars #clone force 99 #the bad batch #the bad batch smut #smut #tbb tech #tbb crosshair #tbb wrecker #tbb echo #tbb hunter #fan fiction #one shots #master list

[523rdrebel]

Welcome to CF99

The Bad Batch Coffee/Caf Shop AU

Hunter x Reader

Hunter and his siblings own a Caf Shop called, CF99. Reader and Hunter are tasked with creating something new and use that time to grow closer together.

Overall Vibes: Cute, Fluff, Falling in Love at a Coffee Shop

Warnings: One Instance of Customer being a "Karen," Fluff, Cuteness, and Lots of Caf/Coffee References

Rating: SFW

Written as a Lifeday gift for @multi-fan-dom-madness <3 <3 <3

Hunter Divider: @snotbuggle

Coffee Divider: @firefly-graphics

“Small Oatmilk Latte on Bar!” You shout over the loud ambient sounds of coffee being made, milk being steamed and frothed, and voices speaking in a dull hum.

“I asked  for whole milk!” The customer scowled at you across the bar, nearly spitting at you in their ire.

“No. You didn’t.” A voice growled intensely from behind you.

“It’s okay Crosshair–”

“No. I took their order, they asked for Oatmilk.” He pushed you aside and leaned over the bar, smiling that toothy smile at the problem customer. His voice rumbled, “You can take the latte or you can leave.” The large form of Wrecker appears behind you, casting a shadow over the customer, “Your choice.”

“Th–the latte’s fine!” The customer all but screams, takes the latte and runs away, doorbell ringing as they exit.

Crosshair laughs, deeply amused.

“Cross– we can’t just keep intimidating the customers!” you chide, despite feeling a deep sense of relief that you avoided being shouted at by another unruly customer.

“That wasn’t a customer, that was a wailing banshee…”

Wrecker nudged your shoulder, though gently, it still nearly knocked you off your feet, “They’ll figure it out eventually.”

“Figure what out? That if they come to CF99 they get yelled at and threatened?”

“That they can’t bully us. Or you.”

Crosshair’s face was smug, something unidentifiable sparkling in his eyes, “Pretty sure Hunter would rip a face off if he caught someone bullying you.”

“I do not believe, even with Hunter’s capabilities, that he could ‘Rip a face off’.” Tech’s voice broke in now, his face popping up from around the corner at the drive thru.

“It’s an expression, Tech.” Crosshair rolled his eyes.

“Is it an expression for ‘I need therapy?’” He quipped back instantly.

At the morning staff meeting, Echo presented a new challenge to the CF99 team, “Overall customer feedback shows that they want something new.”

“New…The pastries from Daisy’s Bakery wasn’t enough?” You asked. Pastries had just been added a few months ago, thanks to Wrecker’s love of the bakery (and the Baker) down the street.

He sighed, “That definitely boosted our sales, but no. They want a new drink.”

“It’s coffee, not an experiment. It doesn’t need all the frills.”

“Not everyone likes plain espresso, Crosshair.”

“Pansies.” He mumbled under his breath, crossed his arms over his chest and glowered.

“Anyway, I need a couple of you to take point on that new drink. Any volunteers?” Tech instantly raised his hand, always excited for a new challenge. “Not you Tech…”

“Yeah, the drink has to actually be palatable…” Wrecker elbowed Tech and laughed heartily.

He adjusted his glasses then held up one finger, “According to my research, the flavor notes hit all the flavor receptors at once. It should have been entirely palatable.”

Echo just rolled his eyes and continued, “I need you on Drive Thru, anyway. No Cross– you just want to avoid the customers.” Crosshair’s sighed deeply, but didn’t deny. “Wrecker’s the best with the Customers so we need him on register…” Echo looked pointedly at you then Hunter, “You and Hunter willing to give it a shot? It doesn’t have to be too fancy, just good coffee and something that we haven’t served before.”

“Okay.” You shrugged, feigning nonchalance, despite the excitement bubbling inside your chest.

“Uh–” Hunter glanced sidelong at you, mouth open to speak.

Echo cut in, standing up to signal the end of the meeting, “Great! Now let’s try not to scare away any more customers…”

You and Hunter are left alone to plan in the break room, where Echo and Tech had set up a temporary Barista station with selections of Caf beans from Endor to Mutunda with a variety of roasting styles and flavor notes. There were caf creamers and alternatives and a multitude of flavorings and additions to make nearly any combination of a special brew.

Hunter was nothing if not efficient, so he set himself to grinding and brewing samples of each caf for the both of you to taste as you made your selections.

“So… What’s the plan here?”

“Taste the caf. Choose additional flavor items. Make the drink. Save the world. Mission accomplished.”

“Oh, sounds very important. How can I help, Commander?” You snap off a sloppy salute.

“At ease, soldier.” He chuckles, eyes sparkling with humor, “Why don’t you try to narrow down the additions… make some flavor groups?”

“On it–sir.” You wink at him, then quickly turn away, your ears burning.

You both work quietly for a while, selecting different combinations of flavor additions while he narrows down caf beans by preference. He is a nice, calming presence, and you, not for the first time, glance appreciatively at his handsome, prominent profile. He’s focused, his brow furrowed in that soft intensity you’d noticed while he works. He exhales at the strand of hair that came loose of his red bandana, now partially obstructing his view. You can’t help but smile at him, but you shake your head and return your focus back to the flavor profiles you were creating. Now isn’t the time to swoon, you decide.

Hunter shifts periodically, each time getting closer and closer to you, causing you to hold your breath involuntarily and sigh heavily when you release the breath. You swore you heard Hunter chuckle quietly upon the third instance, but decidedly ignored that as wishful thinking.

By the time you both had finished with your tasks, Hunter’s arm was softly brushing against your own as he moved the caf closer together, “These ones are the best…”

You know your cheeks are likely flushed with how hot your face feels right then and you nod, gathering your preferred flavor palettes and placing them next to the remaining cafs.

Hunter’s pics for the caf blends are one dark roast with notes of cherry, dark chocolate, and amaretto, one medium roast with notes of cinnamon, star anise, and meloorun, and one light roast with candied jogan fruit, salted caramel, and brown sugar.

“Oh! These are my favorites!”

“Are they?” Hunter’s eyes flashed with amusement and something else you couldn’t identify, “Uh- what do you have?”

“Spiced plum, Blood Orange, and Cinnamon for syrups. Sweet Cream Cheese or Whip for an optional topping, and we could try this mulled wine flavored drizzle for some extra interest.”

You both spend time mixing flavor combinations until you find one that is just right.

“It works well hot or iced, too!”

“Hmm, maybe we do make a good team–soldier.”

“Well, you make it easy, Commander.”

Crosshair leaned against the door to the breakroom, arms crossed and light smirk on his face, “You two done flirting? Or should I come back with a holo recorder?”

“A holorecorder!?” Your eyes widen in panicked shock. 

“For blackmail. That was embarrassing.”

Hunter sighs, “Just– go get Echo. We finished the drink.”

Crosshair instead took three long steps forward, eyes squinting at the drink you’d both created, “Ugh– looks like a dessert. You sure that’s coffee?”

“CROSS–”

He rolls his eyes so far back into his head they could’ve gotten lost back there, turns on his heel and leaves.

“So… were you flirting or…?”

He chuckles and whispers your name softly, reverently, “I’ve been flirting with you for a long while now, actually.”

“Really? I thought—”

“You think we have time for me to kiss you before they get back here?”

“God–I hope so!”

He needs no further encouragement, one hand pulls you flush against him, the other cradles your head and his fingers tangle in your hair. His mouth captures yours, pressing softly at first, the more insistently in response to your willingness. Your hands clutch at his shirt and you wish with all your might that you weren’t at work right now…

You hear a deep, from the depths of his being, sigh and Echo groans, “Can’t you two do that off the clock?”

“How about tonight, then?” Hunter asks, pulling away reluctantly, trailing his fingers slowly across your back as he releases you.

“Tonight. Yes.” Your response is stilted, biting your lip in expectation.

Taglist:

@anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @starrylothcat @secondaryrealm @arctrooper69 @sev-on-kamino @littlemissmanga @wolffegirlsunite @dystopicjumpsuit @idontgetanysleep @clonemedickix @sunshinesdaydream @followthepurrgil @yubnubhub @nahoney22 @jediknightjana @dangraccoon @wizardofrozz @freesia-writes @mythical-illustrator @echoxbuggs @trixie2023 @ezras-left-thumb

#RebelWrites #Coffee Shop AU #TBB AU #TBB #The Bad Batch #Hunter x Reader #tbb hunter x reader #caf shop au #star wars #bad batch #star wars fan fiction #fluff #SFW #Crosshair being a caf snob is canon and you cannot convince me otherwise #Tech being quick with that sass #“Obviously” #Wrecker simultaneously being the muscle and the best with customer interaction #Echo is General Manager #Hunter and Reader are cute #Youtube

[spacemagicandlaserswords]

Open and Waiting (Chapter 2)

Gif from this post by @ashr-jedi

Summary: Hunter makes an appearance. You continue to warm Tech’s cock with your mouth and ruminate on previous experiences with Crosshair, Wrecker and Echo.  

Relationships: Tech x f!reader, a little bit of Hunter x f!reader, mentions of Crosshair x f!reader, Echo x f!reader and Wrecker x f!reader

Warnings: NSFW, cock warming, voyeurism, domination, submission, Dominant Tech, submissive reader, poor self worth, feelings, smut with feelings, sexual inexperience, inexperienced reader, polyamory, gag reflex, pretend sci-fi technology/science, pretend Star Wars planets and locations, not beta read. Mentions of: Deep throating, face fucking, fingering, thigh fucking, tit fucking, bukkake, cum as lube, finger fucking, grinding, toys, butt plug.

Word Count: 2085 (Chapter 2)

Authors Notes: Please read the warnings! And please let me know if you enjoyed it. The filth continues. Interspersed with … feelings? In my smut? It’s more likely than you think. 

I realised I forgot to give any context for where this story sits timeline wise and who the character of the reader is! Timeline wise, this happens at some nebulous point after Echo joins The Bad Batch and before Order 66. The reader is part of the Batch but beyond that you can interpret them however you wish. The most common example I've seen is a medic but a jedi, mechanic, intelligence officer or some other random reason for the reader being in the squad could all work as well. Whatever works for you. The main thing is that the reader is a submissive that the Batch share between themselves and are the reader's dominants. The Batch are all Dom’s in the AU of this fic, but they all have different ways of approaching it, which you’ll hopefully get a little inkling of in this chapter.

Chapters: One, Three, Four, Five, Six | Ao3

Open and Waiting (Chapter 2) 

I don’t know how much time passes but eventually I hear the faint hiss of the cockpit door opening and a soft, smooth stride moves out into the main area of the ship.

Hunter.

Our sergeant can be completely silent when he wants to be, so he’s deliberately making sure his approach can be heard. An existence created purely for tracking means that he’s basically permanently stealthy. It can be decidedly startling when he just appears next to you out of nowhere. We really need to put a bell on him or something. Though he’d probably figure out how to move so that it didn’t make a sound. Sneaky bastard.

A gruff voice at the end of the workbench announces his arrival.

“That’s in more bits than when I saw it last.”

“Yes.” Tech replies. “I hypothesised that the size of the casing could be reduced by 2.56% if I reconfigured the internal power connectors into a series of bi-linear couplings. I am currently applying this theory to the prototype you see before you, hence the 'bits' on the workbench.”

“That’s a lot of parts to shove into a small box.” responds Hunter.

“They will fit.” Tech testily replies.

“I don’t doubt that.” Hunter answers.   

There’s a brief pause while Tech zaps something and Hunter shifts slightly to the side.

I think I’m being inspected.

Hunter definitely can’t have missed that I’m currently naked, kneeling between Tech’s thighs with my eyes closed, hands restrained behind my back and Tech’s cock stuffed in my mouth.

“You went with the leather cuffs then.” Hunter states.

I am definitely being inspected.

“They are more suited to the purposes of this exercise.” Tech explains. “The focus is on sensation and submission and as an introduction to this practice, I thought it pertinent to ease into the experience gently. The leather cuffs provide an acceptable level of restraint and serve as a reminder of their position, both physically and mentally.”

“Plus you made them.” Hunter adds.

“Correct. Both the wrist cuffs and collar are of my own design and creation.” Tech replies.

They’re talking about me like I’m not even here. Like I’m not currently desperately drooling around Tech’s cock, unable to move or escape their gaze. The thought makes my pussy throb.

“Oh, she’s enjoying this.” Hunter laughs.

“I trust you can smell her arousal.” Tech asks, though it’s not framed as a question.

“Yup.” Hunter answers. “I could smell her in the cockpit like she was in there. It’s stronger than usual.”

“I have observed a number of indicators of her heightened state of arousal myself.” Tech adds.

“Is this what she’s been worrying about?” asks Hunter.

“If by ‘this’, you mean the practice of cock warming that the two of us are currently engaging in, then yes.” Tech replies.

“You’ve just got your dick in her mouth.” Hunter observes bluntly.

“Yes.” replies Tech. “That is the point.”

There’s a rather telling pause and I can just picture the looks that are being exchanged. An arched, tattooed eyebrow is probably being met with a decidedly unimpressed flat stare emanating from behind yellow lenses. Another slip of drool spills from the corner of my stretched mouth and runs down my chin to join the rest of the mess that is covering my face.

Tech shifts and launches into a lecture. There’s probably a finger being raised.

“Cock warming is the practice of placing one's cock in an orifice of one's partner. This can be done via the mouth, rear or vagina, if the penetratee possesses that particular genitalia. The cock is then left inside the partner's orifice where they are to keep it warm. The name speaks for itself. Outside of the basic principle of the act, the parties involved can agree on various additional stipulations, such as how long the penetratee must keep their partner's cock inside them or if they are allowed to move or make noise. I have read numerous accounts where both partners extol the virtues of this practice, describing it as surprisingly peaceful and an excellent way of entering subspace.”

“I’m sure it’s enjoyable, I’ve just never heard of it, that’s all.” Hunter supplies.

“I must admit that I was not overly familiar with the practice myself but it has proved to be a most enjoyable addition to our play thus far.” Tech provides.

I could already tell he was enjoying it, given the harness of his erection currently occupying my mouth. Hearing the verbal confirmation just adds to the feeling of deep satisfaction and submission warming in my chest. Another shiver runs through my body and I can feel more of my saliva pool in my mouth.

“Was there a reason for your interruption of my work?” Tech directs at Hunter in a slightly curt manner.

“That’s not the only thing I’m interrupting” Hunter snarks back.

“Quite.” Tech leaves the implication implicit.

Hunter sighs briefly before adding “Yeah we got a comm from the 369th.”

“Ah. Are they still experiencing difficulty with the Separatist base built into the side of the Markontia Gorge on Bezril IX?” Tech asks, fully aware of the answer already.

“Yeah, they might need our help with their current campaign but nothing’s confirmed yet so we’re on standby for now. If they need us to blast a hole into the Seppie base then we should hear back by the next rotation.” Hunter adds.

“Wrecker will be pleased.” Tech comments.

“I can think of something else that would please Wrecker.” Hunter slyly hints at.

“Wrecker may make use of our shared submissive when it is his turn.” Tech replies swiftly, irascible intent laced through the words, making it crystal clear that I am his right now.

“Additionally, he has made it quite clear that he does not wish to test the limits of her capacity for oral penetration until her gag reflex has improved.” Tech adds.

A slice of shame and disappointment cuts through me. I’ve always had problems with my gag reflex. Lack of experience will do that to you, I guess. I’ve been slowly working on improving it and they’ve all been so gentle and careful and patient with me. I desperately want to be able to deep throat each of them or be face fucked into a wall one day. At the moment though, the best I can manage is the tip of one of their cocks at the back of my mouth and even that still sets the damn thing off sometimes.

Wrecker has been so sweet about it. There is no denying that he is exceptionally well endowed and that his cock is, well, enormous, to put it bluntly. The poor man is well aware of it too. There is nothing I’d love more than to be absolutely impaled on his thick cock, but the first time I saw it I did worry that I’d never be able to fit it in me. I still do but we’re slowly getting there. He’s been so wonderful and understanding of my current abilities and their limits. Wrecker is such a beautiful human to experience pleasure with. He’s so full of joy about the entire thing. I didn’t have a great deal of experience before somehow ending up with all of them and I’d never had a joyful sexual encounter before Wrecker. I didn’t even know it was possible and had burst into tears afterwards. He’d been so alarmed and concerned that he’d inadvertently hurt me but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. Thankfully, he’s the most emotionally intelligent out of all of them and we’d had a wide-ranging, open and reassuring conversation about sexual experience and intimacy as I lay curled against his chest. I still struggle with tensing up sometimes and Wrecker has been a great boon in getting me more accustomed to preparation. He’s a big proponent of lube and has a whole assortment of different types that we’re slowly working our way through. One or two of his fingers are more than enough to open me up and I could have those big, thick, slicked up digits sliding in and out of me for hours.

And there is nothing quite so wondrous as lying there laughing and kissing and giggling as he fucks my thighs. Wrecker has been very keen to emphasise that there’s more to sex than just penetration and we’ve been exploring some intriguingly varied ways to experience pleasure together. The first time he’d fucked my tits was something else. His oleaginous, lubed cock sliding between my breasts, cupped in his massive hands as his fingers and thumb played with my nipples. When he’d finally exploded all over my chest, neck and face, I don’t think I’d ever been covered in quite so much cum.

Well, at least not until we had that bukkake session. Trying to get cum out of your hair in a sonic is difficult to say the least and Hunter ended up hand washing it out for me. It had been worth it though for the way they had all looked down at me while they pumped their cocks and came all over my obedient, kneeled form, mouth hanging open and tongue out to catch as much as I could.

I’d knelt there afterwards like a statue. Covered in their cum, stained and claimed in their release. Rivets of translucent white slowly running down my skin. I could feel it pool in the hollow of my neck and drip off my nipples. It sounds ridiculous but in that moment I just wished I could exist like that forever, eternally marked as theirs. Just like I wish I could openly and proudly display the marks they leave on my skin, claims bruised into my neck for all to see. They are all such wonderful dominants, each unique in their own approach. I’m eternally thankful that they all chose me to be their submissive. I would happily serve at their feet and allow them to use me as they pleased for the rest of my existence if this damn war wasn’t going on.

I do need to work on having a bit more self preservation though. One of them is bad enough but whenever they end up scheming together, they start coming up with Plans and Ideas. That’s how I then found myself wiping their cum off me with my hands before eating it in front of them like some lewd and licentious spectacle. Being made to finger yourself using the cum of your dominants as lube while they watch is also a whole new level of depravity. I’d had to beg each of them for permission to cum before I’d finally been allowed to finger fuck myself into oblivion.  

Wrecker isn’t the only one that is explicitly clear that their boundaries for playing with me are guided by my current abilities. Crosshair steadfastly refuses to even entertain my suggestion of face fucking until I can, in his words, “keep my balls against your chin, doll”. Echo had gone all serious when I had timidly requested to go down on him for the first time. There had been some stern yet heart-felt words about the importance of pacing and not rushing into things or pressuring yourself to try something you’re not ready for. We’d ended up grinding against each other instead, which was just as enjoyable. It meant I got to watch him come undone as I thrust my hips into his groin and then he’d made me straddle his leg and grind myself to completion on his thigh. There is something about the sensation of smooth durasteel gliding under your wet, sensitive pussy and pressing against your clit that is otherworldly. I’ll have to ask Tech if he’s able to shape some kind of toy out of the metal. A durasteel butt plug sounds like an excellent idea.

I still wish I could do more for them and wasn’t trapped in my own body and mind. The discontent and shame at my perceived failures is still there, despite how well I might be managing to warm Tech’s cock with my mouth at the moment. My lips are wrapped around a decent amount of his length and the tip of his cock is fairly close to the back of my mouth but I could always do more and try to get him a little deeper. I take a steadying breath through my nose, will my throat to relax and move to take more of him in.

------

Author’s Note: Tiny bit of a cliffhanger! This is mainly because I wrote this all in a giant keyboard mashing haze with absolutely no thoughts of structure. Going back while editing and trying to figure out where to shove in chapters to break it up has been a bit tricky, so if they’re a tad clunky that’s why.

You’ll see how Tech reacts in Chapter 3, along with some musings on previous sessions with Hunter and Crosshair. 

Taglist: @queenariesofnarnia @skywlker-sluvtt @techs-assistant

#fanfic #fanfiction #fan fiction #tech x reader #hunter x reader #crosshair x reader #wrecker x reader #echo x reader #tech x female reader #tech x f!reader #tech x fem!reader #tech fanfiction #tech fanfic #the bad batch #tbb #star wars #tech #tbb tech #tbb fanfiction #star wars fanfiction

[greenlyren12]

Repairs - Crosshair x GN!Reader

word count: 2.2k

Summary: Set after Crosshair's rescue from the platform, reader is on a mission to help him heal.

A/N:

Hello, my plan for this is to be a 2 parter, so expect an update soon. My whole idea for this fic was to give crossy a friend and some comfort, we all need it after that episode. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated, have a nice day/night :)

The Empire had clasped its ugly claws around your planet years ago. Your parents had witnessed it all, in the start – the Separatists and now Palpatine’s dictatorship. Being born into it, you knew nothing of the outside worlds. Dreaming seemed unallowed for you. All labor done on the planet was for feeding the fat bellies of imperials and fueling their death ships.

Choice was never an option, nor was peace, but it went down to two paths for everyone – arduous physical work or the medical field. Everyone from janitors to high ranking pilots was worked to death and by decision, it was your job to fix them up.

Working in rehabilitation was dispiriting, some of the sights you were a witness to, you’d never stop having nightmares about. It was plain and simple, everyone was a cog in their machine, therefore expandable. Taking care of all kinds of people helped you make peace with yourself a little. You had seen it all, from twi’leks with missing parts of their lekkus to humans who could not do anything by themselves anymore.

That was your everyday, drowning in patients in the hopes of achieving something good.

***

Today was nothing unusual, though you had a new patient coming. Sitting in a chair in front of the door, you waited for his arrival. With crossed legs and a perplexed look on your face, you read his records on your datapad. One finger tapping the metal handle of the chair, to say you were interested would be an understatement.

It was heartbreaking,

All empire documentation was devoid of any kind of emotion, so you had a knack for sensing the real situation. Usually, all clone cases made your heart twist in pain, but this in particular was tragic. The creation of the bred for war only soldiers was deplorable.

As you were reading about his brothers’ desertion, a dark figure entered. Looking up with heavy eyelids from the lack of sleep, your gaze met his. Your first thought was that he was beautiful, all clones were, but he was different. The man in front of you was lithe and tall, but there was something twisted inside of him. As if the air around him sizzled with tension. His shoulders fell heavy, though his copper eyes contrasted his gloomy nature. A dark gash painted the right side of his head and bellow, on his eye laid a crosshair tattoo.

He looked different from the kept records photos, his silver locks were missing and he looked sadder, if it were more possible.

Not wanting to keep him at the entrance, you stood up, carefully approaching him. The clone seemed perpetually on edge, so taking very careful steps, as if to not disturb him, you stood in front of him.

“Good morning, sir.” You happily chimed.

The man eyed you, head to toe, with a very angry look. The scowl he apparently always wore deepened and he said nothing. Awkward silence was let to drown the room. You gave him an unamused look, that was rude for no reason.

“Follow me.” Annoyance laced in your tone, you avoided his eye.

You led him to the countertop where you kept your track records, physical evaluations were always first. The work assigned to you would not be a lot, reading of what he went through on that platform, the mental rehabilitation would be a lot more taxing.

He moved like a feline, but also very rigid. Every move the clone made was deliberate and thought through, a soldier's preciseness always put you on edge.

“Put your arms up please.” You requested, as if you were the one being evaluated, his stare burned holes in your body.

The man in front of you put his arms up and looked dead in front, unmoving like a statue, like he was scared to show he was breathing.

Always keeping a check on his face, scared of seeing it contort with anger again, you carefully started examining his left hand.

“Do you sleep well, CT-9904?”

You hated referring to them by their numbers, but this was protocol and the clone had already stated his dislike of being here.

“Do you?” He said with all of the offense he could muster, eyebrows knitting, mouth turning downside.

Getting caught off guard by his insolence you stopped checking his arm and looked at him questioningly. The nerve of this guy. The answer to your question laid under his eyes, it was clear.

Who would be able to sleep after being left for dead?

You had seen enough faces to know, he was tormented. After all, this was standard procedure and making conversation made the patients feel better, apparently not this one.

Switching to his right arm and keeping your composure you asked him nicely.

“What is your name?” Offering him a sweet smile.

For the first time you saw a different emotion from anger on his face. Surprisement was clear on his features for a good second, then he put the mask back on. If he had to be frank with himself, no one had acknowledged his existence in so long, let alone ask him for his name.

“Crosshair.” The sniper, apparently, said with mouth forming a tight line, gazing curiously at you now.

Looking at his right eye you snorted.

“Bright one, aren’t you.” You said while shaking your head and then you felt a fracture on his palm.

The pressure should’ve made him flinch or at least wince but he was cold as a stone.

“You’re not on the battlefield anymore, I’m here to help you.” You said sadly while holding his index finger, searching for something in his eyes.

“I don’t need your help.” Crosshair venomously bit, never breaking eye contact.

You started to understand the game he was playing, and two could play that game.

“Your officer seems to think differently.”

“Look, there is clearly something wrong with your palm,” You said while writing down his injuries on your datapad.

“I know it hurts, I’m not going to twist it if you show any kind of emotion, if you don’t keep testing me that’s it.” You looked at him with a smile.

“Noted.” Crosshair said with the slightest tint of amusement.

Feeling proud of getting the littlest smile off him, you placed your datapad on the counter next to you.

“I have a proposition.” You requested after eyeing him carefully.

Crosshair grunted a hm and let you finish, while crossing his arms in front of him, cocking his hip. He was very alluring, if you forgot his off-putting demeanor.

“My schedule for today is to get you moving your body, but you seem very off on me helping you and If I don’t do my job, I will get in trouble. So why don’t you follow my lead and I’ll just watch from here, marksman? 

Crosshair weighed his options, thinking, he decided this was the best course.

“Okay.” The sniper grumbled.

You sat on a chair next to the counter, putting your head on your palm and intently observing him, even if he was a pain in the ass, his presence was a breath of fresh air.

You spent the next 30 minutes explaining exercises to him and, surprisingly, he followed every instruction.

Crosshair was stretching his shoulders now.

“Can I ask anything about your life?” You playfully asked him, already knowing the answer, cocking your head to the side waiting for an answer.

“No.” The clone almost cut you mid sentences as he bent down to his toes.

“When did you get the injury on your head?”

Crosshair shot you such a ferocious look you almost fell down your chair. Putting your hands in one another for some type of comfort you shot him a sorry look.

“I’m sorry for what happened.” You truthfully said to the dejected clone.

“I don’t need your pity.” He didn’t look you in the eye now.

“But I do pity you, and you do need someone’s pity, what happened to you was awful. I’m sure you did not deserve it, I’m sorry.” It was your job to comfort people but this was genuine.

For all of Crosshair’s silence, he was very easy to read. You think he understood you, and he graced you with a hm.

“Are you eating well?” You tried to lighten the mood.

“Have you seen the food in the mess?” Crosshair rhetorically asked you.

“Fair point, I can bring you something from home next time.”

***

Crosshair remained in your care for the next 3 months. You reread his file multiple times. Truthfully, you teared up while reading it the last time, you were sure he had no friends now. You didn’t want to admit it to yourself but you anticipated his visits and he was showing progress. He somehow became nice company, letting his guard down, he always knew what to say.

It was just a speculation on your part but he really did have no one. Crosshair was out of commission and he was useless to the Empire, he missed his brothers now more than ever. Everyday was the same lonely pit and he could not bear it anymore. After the second week he couldn’t sleep anymore, night terrors. Everyone avoided him, except for you. You seemed to have an interest in him for a reason he could not fathom, and you genuinely enjoyed spending time with him. So he frequented your office as much as he could, it wasn’t like he had anything else to do.

Over time he let you touch him, he felt like a boy again but it was beyond him, he was so alone.

“Can you show me how to do this?” Crosshair almost seductively requested.

He took you by surprise, he knew the exercise by heart, he wanted you to touch him. Over time you practiced manners together, if he wanted to be a functioning member of society he had to let the attitude go. That, of course, never happened, but he became softer and nicer. He started saying please and thank you, little did you know he only did it for you. He loved your gratification and you loved praising him, only you deserved that side of him in his eyes.

“Manners, sniper.” You joyfully said while approaching him.

“Please.” He genuinely asked.

“Are you finally going to let me do my job?”

“Happy, doc?” He smiled at you, a rare sight.

A totally professional setting could not be more intimate, Crosshair was extremely closed off and he let you inside his space, to guide him. You closed the space between each other and gingerly guided his arm up while pressing a palm on the small of his back. You felt every breath he took, slow and careful but his heart was pounding. His clear anxiousness got you nervous as well and you stumbled on his foot. Completely towering over you, he helped you regain your footing.

“You getting nervous?” He said with a devilish smile.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Cross.” You replied while putting a distance between the two of you.

“I know a liar when I see one, cyare.”

He started calling you that about two weeks ago. You had no idea what the nickname meant and he refused to grace you with an explanation, so you figured the worst.

“Don’t get on my bad side, lanky.” You teased him while going for your papers.

***

You dreaded today, it was Crosshair’s last appointed visit. Which meant he would not need you anymore, he wouldn’t be obliged to visit. It made something inside you twist in agony, you’d miss him. He would be assigned missions again and he would be busy.

He could die.

You swatted that thought out of your mind and entered the rehabilitation room. A little bit after that he entered as well. Both of you were clearly feeling down. You sat expectantly on your chair and waited for him to start his warm up but he stilled.

Offering you a palm Crosshair spoke to you.

“Want to do this together?” For the first time he was unsure of himself in front of you, but he craved you and your touch.

Your gaze widened and you smiled.

“I would love to.”

You spent the entire session glued to each other, helping him and guiding him. Being a part of his healing process, you joked around together and he graced you with a quiet laugh for the first time. You were truly happy for a while.

He was still the same bruised clone that entered your room 3 months ago but something had shifted in him. A different kind of glint sparkled in his brown eyes now. It made your heart ache, you didn’t want to lose him.

Being done with everything you let go of him but remained close, looking in his eyes you just stayed. Crosshair closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to your own, your breath hitched and you melted by his innocent touch. You caressed his bad arm and just stayed like this for a while. Pulling back, you gave him the sweetest smile you could, no words were exchanged and none were needed to.

You said your goodbyes.

“If anything hurts again, you come to me, you hear me, do not suffer in silence.”

He gave you a melancholic look and turned around to leave. Stalling on the entrance he looked back at you.

“I got burned after my brothers deserted.” Crosshair finally answered your question and left out the door.

#crosshair tbb #tbb crosshair #crosshair bad batch #crosshair x reader #crosshair #crosshair x you #bad batch crosshair #the bad batch fanfiction #the bad batch season 2 #tbb #star wars fan fiction #star wars

[apocalyp-tech-a]

Finally got Chapter 2 up. Mayday wakes up in an observation room at Mt. Tantiss.

#clone trooper mayday #emerie karr #crosshair the bad batch #star wars #the bad batch #mayday #fan fiction #aelfwynn on ao3 #mayday mayday #mayday lives #tbb season 2 fix it

[holdingonforheaven]

happy bad batch eve!

here, have a lil fic while we wait

#tbb fanfiction #star wars fan fiction #sw tbb #sw tbb s3 #tbb crosshair #tbb omega #tbb hunter

[badbatchposts]

Songs that could theoretically accompany future chapters of Quiet Corners of the Galaxy

In no particular order:

“Bleed Out,” The Mountain Goats

“Moon Song,” Phoebe Bridgers

“I’m Your Man,” Mitski

“Somebody to Anybody,” Margaret Glaspy

#the bad batch #tbb crosshair #clone wars fanfiction #sw tbb fanfiction #tbb fanfiction #the bad batch fan fiction #quietcornersofthegalaxy

[dangraccoon]

Oyuba'din - Chapter 4: Attentive

Original Character & The Bad Batch

Summary: Hunter is stubborn, but Crosshair is crafty. Jaine amazes all of them.

Warnings: discussion of injuries, migraines, teensy bit of lunatic behavior (if you squint), unorthodox healing methods

Author's Note: Oh my stars y'all are still reading this??? Well, prepare for some mystery! The Batch certainly wasn't!

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“So how was it?” Crosshair smirked. 

“What?” Hunter said. 

“You had a private audience with the medic,” he snickered. 

Hunter rolled his eyes, but said nothing. 

“How’d she smell, vod?”

“Stow it, Cross,” he warned. 

Crosshair snickered, but ultimately stopped his line of questioning. The short walk back to the barracks was quiet from then on.

Upon the door shutting, Hunter felt himself release a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. 

“Are you alright?” Tech asked.

“Fine,” Hunter mumbled.

“You are currently displaying five out of eight of your usual signs of having a migraine. That is three more than this morning in the mess.”

“Tech,” he groaned. 

“Perhaps I should call for Lieutenant Vale, she may have something to ease your pain.”

“You know as well as I do that none of the medicine helps.”

“I have read that her methods are frequently unorthodox, much like us. She may be able to help in some way.”

“Enough, Tech,” he snapped. “I’ll be fine.”

Tech scowled, but said nothing. 

“I’m going to lie down. Do not comm her.”

Hunter turned from his brother, and skulked over to his bunk, pulling down the makeshift curtain to enclose the bunk in darkness. He opted not to shed his armor, feeling a little lazy, and he was out like a light the moment his head hit the pillow. 

Tech continued to scowl at his brother’s bunk. He knew he was one to talk, but Hunter was so hardheaded. Tech knew Hunter thought his migraines were a sign of weakness, and knew they embarrassed him. Perhaps the leader did not want to appear weak in front of the new medic, which was silly. 

“I think you should, by the way,” Crosshair muttered. 

“Hunter explicitly stated that I should not contact Lieutenant Vale.”

Crosshair hummed, seeming to consider this. “Maybe if you had to comm her for some other reason, not Hunter.”

“I suppose, but no one else is in need of a medic. If Echo is experiencing phantom pains again, he has his medication for that, Wrecker’s eye hasn’t bothered him for years, and you and I are in good condition.”

“For now,” Crosshair snickered, stalking away from Tech and over to Wrecker. 

Tech watched as Crosshair whispered something to their larger brother, whose face split in a wide grin. Tech could help the bad feeling that was gathering in the pit of his stomach. 

Before Tech could step in, Wrecker lifted Crosshair above his head with ease, tossing him back to the floor like a rag doll. The breath left Crosshair’s lungs as he watched the hulking Clone jump on top of him. 

Echo watched on in confusion before meeting Tech’s eye, questioningly. 

Tech let out a sigh in response, picking up his comm device as he watched Wrecker dislocate Crosshair’s shoulder. 

-

The door slid open to reveal a peeved medic. 

Tech huffed out a frustrated breath. “Lieutenant, I assure you there is a perfectly reasonable ex-”

“It’s Jaine,” she said, already moving towards Crosshair to assess the damage.

“Right, Jaine,” Tech mumbled.

“And I don’t really care for explanations. I can’t leave you boys alone for five minutes, can I?”

“We are somewhat ungovernable at times,” Tech conceded. 

Jaine worked silently, assessing Crosshair’s shoulder. 

“Not bad,” she hummed, taking control of Crosshair’s arm. “Relax.”

Before Crosshair had a moment to even think about relaxing, she swiftly moved his arm, the joint clicking loudly as it found its proper place. 

She released his arm as he hissed in pain, and grabbed a bottle of tablets out of her bag. She passed him two, saying “take these. No rough-housing for at least three days.”

She moved on to her next patient, Wrecker, whose cheek was beginning to show some bruising. She pushed him down to sit on the bench so she could get a proper look at him. After a minute, she scoffed lightly, before removing a small canister from her bag. She twisted it open, revealing a dark colored salve. Tech, fascinated, hovered slightly behind her. 

As she applied the salve to Wrecker’s cheek she spoke softly to Tech. “It’s synthesized with vitamins and enzymes from a few different plants; pineapple, arnica, and ginger root mostly. The color comes from activated charcoal. That’s mostly for binding, but it helps as a disinfectant as well. It’s my own blend. Bruises typically heal on their own, but this should speed up the process.”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Tech furiously typing on this data pad, hoping to study the ingredients in the near future.

Once she finished applying the salve, she wiped her hand on her pants. She then leaned forward and gently blew across the area on Wrecker’s cheek and Tech watched fascinated as the dark salve seemed to disappear into Wrecker’s skin. Wrecker reached up and gently prodded where the bruise had been forming. 

“Doesn’t hurt,” he whispered. 

“That’s good,” she smiled. 

“Jaine, I would be most interested if you were to teach me about this salve of yours. I am quite fascinated with its properties and I am curious to know how it was absorbed so quickly,” Tech prattled on. 

“I’d love to teach you sometime, Tech, but why am I really here?” she inquired. 

“Apologies, Jaine, I told Crosshair this deception would be ridiculous,” he muttered with an exaggerated eye roll. Lowering his voice to nearly a whisper he added “Hunter gets migraines and after he had spoken to other doctors and medics, no medicine they have given him helps. The headaches are a side effect of his enhancements.”

“Let me guess, he’ll be stubborn as a bantha about letting me try to help?”

“That would be correct. He specifically told me not to contact you, but then when Crosshair was hurt in his sparring with Wrecker, it was inevitable that I must contact you.”

“I’m glad you did,” she smiled. Tech straightened a little, the hint of a grin on his lips. “Where is he?”

“His bunk, I am unsure if he is awake at the moment,” Tech informed her, pointing to Hunter’s enclosed bunk on the opposite side of the room. She nodded, picking up her bag, and moving to the sleeping sergeant’s bunk. 

“Hunter?” She said quietly. “Are you awake?”

“Wish I wasn’t,” he groaned. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Your brothers are worried about you,” she explained. 

He pulled the makeshift curtain ever so slightly to the side. Squinting as the harsh light hit his eyes. 

“Tech, the lights?” She called, and Tech quickly turned the lights off. 

“So what ridiculous stunt did they pull to get you here?” he grumbled. 

“Crosshair had Wrecker dislocate his arm. Nothing serious,” she said, taking his pulse at his wrist, and watching her chronometer. After a few moments she added “little on the high side for resting. Everything okay?”

Hunter scowled, unsure of what to say. His brothers had gotten into nonsense while he slept with the express purpose of doing what he asked them not to, his brain felt like it was going to melt out of his ears, and a snarky, beautiful, and wonderful smelling woman was touching his wrist. He was not okay. 

“I’m fine,” he lied. 

“Typically, when Hunter says that he is fine, it means the opposite,” Tech called from across the room. 

“That so?” Jaine said, smirking. Hunter groaned, basically confirming Tech’s statement. “I suppose we’ve got that in common, then.”

She reached into her bag, pulling a canteen of water out. She passed it to Hunter, simply saying “drink.”

He reluctantly did as he was told, taking the canteen and slowly sipping from it. 

Meanwhile, Jaine sat on the edge of his bunk, going over a symptom checklist. 

“‘Sensitivity to light and sound’, well I’d say that’s fairly obvious. Any nausea or dizziness?”

“No,” he replied simply. 

“Vision off? Seeing any flashes of light?”

“None.”

“I think we can check ‘irritability’ off as well. Nasal congestion? Scalp tenderness?”

“No.”

“What kind of pain?”

Hunter scowled a little. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I need to know what you’re feeling so I know how to treat you. Keep drinking the water.”

“Dunno how to describe it.”

“Let’s start with where it is, then?”

Hunter indicated his right eye, tracing up to his temples, and ending back by his ears. 

“Okay, it is a lot of pain or a little,” she asked, but judging by the look on his face, she answered herself. “A lot. Got it. Does it feel sharp? Like you’re being stabbed or poked with something pointy?”

“No,” he said. 

“Does it feel like someone’s pressing really hard?”

“Yeah. Like my brain’s pushing its way out of my head.”

“Right, sounds like a pretty classic migraine,” she hummed, pulling herself from his bunk and to the table in the middle of the room. “How’s your taste and smell doing? Sensitive?”

Hunter, having flopped back onto his bunk, considered this for a moment. “Could be worse,” he replied with a shrug. 

“Good,” she called back to Hunter before glancing up at Tech with a wink. “Makes it easier.”

Tech watched in fascination as she pulled a few containers from her bag, but quirked an eyebrow up when he realized he couldn’t read the labels on them. 

“What are the ingredients you are using?” He inquired. 

“Bantha tranquilizers and strychnine, of course,” she deadpanned.

Tech blinked at her a few times and she laughed. “If I told you everything I was doing, what use would you have for me then?”

“I suppose that is fair, but I would still like to learn this particular remedy. If it works and you are unavailable, I’d like to be able to replicate it,” he explained. 

“Alright, genius, I get it. Don’t think you’re going to like my process, though,” she smirked. 

“Do not be ridiculous. I’m sure I will find it fascinating.”

“Suit yourself,” she purred. 

Tech watched as she went to work, humming as she did. It was a tune he didn’t recognize, but that didn’t surprise him. He had never really been one for music. 

She added her ingredients to the mortar she had brought out from her bag. He recognized most of them; peppermint, pumpkin seeds, and ginger root. There were some he was not familiar with, however, like the dark red flakes she sprinkled in and a brown powder that looked suspiciously like instant caf. 

She was right when she had predicted that he would not enjoy the process; it would be irreplicable. She hummed gently, grinding the ingredients together with the mortar and pestle, pausing to smell the mixture, before picking up the container that held an ingredient she thought was lacking. 

Once she was finally happy with the mixture, she set about the next step in the process; liquid. She took an empty canteen from her bag, walking over to fill it in the refresher. She then took a funnel and emptied the contents of the mortar to it. Once all of the ground ingredients were inside the canteen, she replaced the lid. 

Her humming paused as she took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying not to think about the funny frustration of Tech’s expression. 

She shook up her concoction, returning to her humming, eyes closed and only vaguely aware of the 5 sets of eyes on her. 

Once she finished, she gently opened her eyes. “This is typically a private practice, you know,” she chuckled at the men. “Consider yourselves lucky to witness it.”

She unscrewed the lid of the canteen, blowing over it as she passed it to Hunter. 

He eyed the drink and her suspiciously, but took a drink anyway, cringing a little at the taste, and scowling up at her. 

“It’s medicine, not dessert,” Jaine shrugged. “Drink all of it.”

A few minutes passed as Hunter did as she said. By the time he drained the last of the odd beverage and handed it back to Jaine, she had already packed up the rest of her equipment. She gave the boys a wink, and was out of the door before anyone could say anything. 

Hunter sat on his bunk, eyes squinted at the floor. 

“Well?” Crosshair said, eyeing his brother. 

Hunter opened his mouth as though to reply, but quickly shut it again. He did this a few more times before looking up at his squad, the surprise evident on his face. 

“It worked.”

Thanks for reading! - Dang

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[skellymom]

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PLEASE send me some love too! I created this listing to not just help people find creatives, but to PROMOTE MY OWN Tumblr account. So go check out my fics. It's called networking, baby! <3

#the bad batch #star wars #tbb #bad batch #clone force 99 #tbb hunter #tbb crosshair #tbb tech #tbb wrecker #tbb echo #tbb omega #the bad batch x reader #tbb x reader #star wars tbb x reader #tbb fan fiction writers #the bad batch fan fiction writers #the bad batch hunter #the bad batch echo #the bad batch crosshair #the bad batch omega #the bad batch wrecker #the bad batch tech #the bad batch fan fiction #star wars fan fiction

[wild-karrde]

Okay! so I found two amazing fics recently that I wanted to give a shoutout to!

My Sunshine is Sleeping by @arctrooper69 made me cry in the middle of the night but it was so amazing and I love Kix so much so I couldn't resist the angst

and Filed Under: Payroll Complaints by @ghostofskywalker made me laugh like an idiot when I read it today because it was so funny and original.

I have read the entire catalogues of both of these authors and every fic is amazing, but I think these two are my favorite even if I'm too shy to really talk to authors I admire, so I'm thankful for Fandom Friday so I can still let them know I love them

Ooooooof that first one is an ABSOLUTE GUT PUNCH! I just want to hug Kix very hard and tell him it’s alright! And the second is SO MUCH FUN. I love the idea that Hondo got that number and is harassing people about what Kenobi owes him. These are both wonderful recommendations! Thank you so much for sending them in anon!

Participate in Fandom Friday to show your favorite creators from this week some love! :)

#FANDOM FRIDAY #creator appreciation #fic rec #fan fiction #fanfic #Star Wars #the clone wars #tcw #the bad batch #tbb #clone medic kix #Captain Rex #Anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #commander Cody #hondo ohnaka #tech #crosshair #wrecker #echo #Hunter

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

Sorry, Wrong Comms! : Hunter x Medic!Reader [Chapter 1]

Much more recently written fanfic I started to distract myself from the "mild" trauma of Season 2 finale based on ideas that wouldn't work for "Rough Stuff". This fic is absolutely RIFE with my personal headcanons. Clones deserved so much better, and I will be a giant mess when I get to Pong Krell in TWC as I have since started rewatching it.

Warnings & Information: Intended audience is 13+, 18 if you squint. Hurt+comfort material primarily; there is still a fair amount of angst, fluff, and all the good stuff. Reader has she/her pronouns. We really like italics in this house. Peep this for funsies for why I decide to use Mando'a. By no means comprehensive, in no particular order there will be: Mild injury description + care, blood, vague medical terminology (read as: pretending to understand medical stuff), use of restraints, needles (autoinjectors), near-death(s), nausea and non-descriptive mentions of vomit, Star Wars swearing, drugs (both medical and recreational references), minor adult themes + implications, avoidant behaviors, trickery and light mean teasing in the forms of siblings and crushes. 

Series-inaccurate allusions to Crosshair never leaving Bad Batch post Order 66 execution [because while this is an AU fic, I am also very much an Avoidant Mess™], Batchers never meet Cid, fair chance of misremembering any referenced events from TCW series. Series accurate allusions and references to canon violence (AKA: literal war crimes, weapon injuries, etcetera).  

Word-count: 4,637

She couldn't remember the last time she had a really, really bad day outside of her medical clinic. There was a tip-off that an abandoned medical center on a neighboring mining planet within the system had supplies too tantalizing to ignore. Valuable paraphernalia that was being phased out by this emerging Empire, ripe for the taking. Did the mining company really have to build this settlement on the steepest face of the mountain? No, they probably didn't realize how unstable, unsafe and ultimately unsuitable this location was while they riddled the inside of the mountain with tunnels as they harvested precious ore and minerals. This was a boomtown and it had completed two of the three strikes typical of such: strike it rich, strike it fast, strike it down. The people living and working here had to abandon it in a hurry before they demoed the place. This mining company hadn't done their proper research and now the shells of their temporary structures were all that remained. 

But a scrappy little scavenger had found the medical center was still fairly flush with supplies and let the first medic who was willing to help them with their injuries know about the score. 'It'll be dangerous. If you're going, tell a friend so they know to come looking for you if you don't get back after a certain time. But these items are pre-Empire, they aren't making them like that anymore, so you'll want these. Trust me. I think you'll find them worth the risk of a rock slide or two.' 

It. Was. Not. Not really, anyways.

She was just glad to be home now. Put the day behind her. No more rock slides. No more rusted shells of buildings that made for excellent deathtraps. No more falling halfway down the mountain she climbed up in the descent to her ship in the foothills and losing almost every last med supply she came with after slipping on a patch of loose, fine-grain sand just after navigating the maze of the medical center. She had to hobble down the rest of the mountain with nothing to clean out the open wounds and prayed to everything and anything that she didn't contract something that had leached into the rock as the by-products of mining and refinery. She had to stumble into her ship and send a message to her back-up at home that she was 'hurt pretty kriffing bad' but alive and would be back planet-side after dinner; don't wait up for me, I'm too damn tired to swing by after all. Tell the others I'm sorry.

Her instructors in med school would be having a conniption if they saw the way she had tended her wounds so lazily and would never let her hear the end of it for the juvenile, sloppy attempt to bandage the laceration on her dominant arm, but she was too tired to care. (But if she ever saw that scavenger again, she'd kill them for failing to mention several things. The collapsing roof in the west stock room, for starters.) She'd deal with it all properly in the morning. She just wanted to sleep after sucking down two tubes of nutrient paste and a mixed handful of painkillers and antibiotics to ward away pain and infection.

She picked up her datapad one last time and hissed a deliberate dictation into the mic after tugging the knot to the wrapping one last time for good measure. "I'll deal with that bantha fodder in the morning… Home safe. Going to bed. Goodnight." 

She'd accidentally sent it to the wider group beyond the singular contact when five messages popped up in short succession. 

Glad you're home safe. Sleep well, kid. 

likewise

GOODNIGHT!:)

Yes, goodnight. 

We'll see you in the morning, burc'ya. 

Hopefully she'd feel well-rested with the sunrise. Crawling into her bed, she dropped heavily on her side and clutched a well worn Tooka doll in her favorite colors named after her very first childhood pet to her chest as she drew the covers up over her shoulders. Maker, she was so tired. It wouldn't take long before sleep came for her, feeling the first beckoning pulls on her eyelids after just a few moments. 

Her comms gave a harsh screech, jolting her awake in her bed. Just when she had drifted off… This better be important. An actual karking emergency. Someone who had her personal frequency had better be dying if they were contacting her. "What."

There was a lot of shuffling and keypad beeping on the other end of the comms channel, but no one spoke right away. Just when she was about to either call out a hello? or simply disconnect her comlink, she heard someone speak up. Clone Sergeant Hunter. "Tech is this really necessary to keep the-"

"If we want an accurate oral temperature, yes." 

There was a groan over the channel, then the sharp rustle as the comms got bumped or adjusted in Hunter's hand. "Well the longer I have it in my mouth the closer I feel to gaggin-"

She shot upright in her bunk, slightly grossed out and confused all at once. "What the kriff are you-!?"

The two Clones on the other end of the comlink gave their own startled shouts, realizing they had a disembodied voice suddenly joining their company. "[____]! How-?" 

She was quick to cut Tech off, pulling the comlink closer to her face to amplify her furious tone of voice. "Did one of you seriously call me - in the middle of a medical check - when I'm trying to sleep!" 

"Sorry, [____]." Hunter mumbled shamefully. "Must have switched on my comlink by mistake… Didn't mean to disturb you when I know you've had a hard day." What an understatement, Hunter. The impulsive venom in her mouth was hard to hold back, encouraged by her frustrations and discomforts bubbling over. "Hard day made harder thanks to you." She regretted it in a heartbeat. Thank the Maker the enhanced Clone wasn't in the room with her; he'd probably have been able to hear the way it skipped a beat if he was able to sense the beginnings of seismic activity, smell the way she felt her body begin to shiver in a forming, cold stress-sweat as the shame of her anger washed over her. 

"You're right: let me make it up to you." 

She was told to come over to the Batch's housing. Crosshair opened the blastdoor for her before she even had a chance to knock to avoid waking anyone sleeping if she used the buzzer. "He'll be in the main area."

"What, no "Hello, taking care of yourself like I told you to?" tonight, Cross? Even as a joke, after the day I've been having, to lighten the mood?" 

There was a half-hearted scoff (or maybe that was a soft laugh) from the Clone at this."That's more Wrecker's thing," Cross drawled in a casual voice around a toothpick, sidestepping to let her squeeze inside, "and I'm not really interested in pretending I can't see that you are not taking care of yourself."

"No, of course not Mr. Sharp-eyed, Snarky Sniper. 'Cause I fall down the mountains of abandoned mining settlements for kriffing fun." 

If Cross was phased by the uncharacteristic anger of the medic tonight, he didn't really show it. Just a little twitching pull of his upper lip on one side and half-lidded eyes that betrayed a bit of amusement and disappointment. "Mmp. C'mon, kid. I'll see if I can't find a half-decent ration bar somewhere around here for you." 

"Not hungry, Cr-"

"Don't care." He interrupted in a brusque tone, not giving her the opportunity for excuses. Crosshair was the kinda guy who didn't like excuses, either in giving or getting, and could be quick to shut that kriff down. It was refreshing sometimes, but tonight it was just another mild annoyance of [____]'s day. 

Whatever. She was going to go find Hunter where Cross said he'd be rather than waiting around in the entryway forever. "Skipping meals again, are we burc'ya?" As a medic, she often missed out on a meal or two while she was aiding the galaxy's sick and injured, and the unintentional habit carried over when she wasn't at the clinic. Something that made her friends fret over her like this. "For once I had all three meals. Only thing I swear went right today…" There was a pause as the medic heard a comment from the small kitchen on the left from the common room and she added with a gentle sigh, "aside from not breaking any bones during that nasty fall, too I guess." 

Hunter looked relieved and genuinely proud of her, sincerely surprised she wasn't tired and hungry like many nights in the past. Crosshair just turned on his heel back into the kitchen unit without breaking his stride, after a little shuffling around in the cabinets [____] could hear the sink running. "Well that's… good! Proud of you, kid." 

"...Than-"

Cross set the glass of water he'd filled for her in lieu of the ration bar down on a low table in the common room in the middle of the light conversation she was having with Hunter. "Here. I'll leave you two to it. Goodnight."

"U-um, thanks, Cross. Goodnight…" Cross nodded nonchalantly at her, next turning to his brother, who was quick to avoid his eyes before Crosshair just turned and left the two of them. Leave you two to it, what did he mean by that that had Hunter looking so nervous with a wave of color creeping up his neck from under the collar of a fresh nightshirt? "What's going on, Hunter? Do I need to be worried about something? Something show up on the health check? Do you need some nysillin tea or- s-something?" 

Hunter shook his head, a tender, reassuring (and touched) smile slowly building. You could take the doctor out of the clinic, but you couldn't stop her from thinking about her job. "Nothing's wrong, k'uur... Just thought I was feeling a little under the weather, but I'm perfectly fine. It's nothing more than just making it up to you after waking you. Plus, for once, you won't have to patch your own wounds. Why not have someone take care of you the same way you take care of others?" It was the same thing he'd said to her at the end of their first of many interactions in this seedy little travel-hub. The time she'd undoubtedly saved Crosshair's life after he'd picked up a nasty little parasite while slogging through the swamps of some distant planet. Kashyyyk? It was probably Kashyyyk. 

[____] was in a sour arrangement then with some smugglers with hair-trigger tempers to come and go as they pleased with her small clinic, and these Clones had been kind to remove the problem clientele "with discretion" as a way of paying her back. She'd saved their "stubborn vod". They saved her and now trusted her to treat their injuries no matter the cause, turning up at odd hours for the oddest of injury or malady. Complete faith in her in a hostile galaxy who now wanted… whatever it is they wanted with these Clones. She didn't ask. She didn't want to know. 

She'd heard the stories from those who fled the war encroaching nearly every part of the galaxy. She'd heard of the war crimes, seen the horror and gore and bloodshed step into at least two of the medical centers she once worked in… known of an Order 66 and what became of much, if not all, of the Jedi… She didn't want to know. They often didn't want to tell, beyond giving vague recollections when they were making arrangements for short-term prescriptions for sleeping supplements with the medic when the nightmares were overwhelming. 

Much like scouting the abandoned medical facility in an old mining boomtown for various 'sillin supplies, life seldom goes the way you wish. 

"C'mere, ad'ika. Let's get you patched up." He patted the space beside him on the couch in invitation, pulling a medkit closer with the other hand all while looking at her with the same softness he often reserved for his sister. When [____] first met him, she could have sworn Omega was his daughter. "Unless you're not okay with that." Hunter added, addressing her hesitation he could hear in the rhythm of her pulse, her heart. 

"I'm fine with it… just really tired and brain's kinda closing shop for the night. Sorry." Taking the seat indicated, [____] sunk back into the furniture, sighing. She didn't want to bring up why she was hesitating on him. He carried enough guilt as a participant in the old GAR… Hunter broke the seal on the new packet of medical tools, prepping everything he thought he'd need. "Don't be, ad'ika. Now, have you taken something for the pain already?" 

"Rhetorical question for a medic, don't you think?" The tired, teasing question was met with a single chuckle. He knew she would have, he was just making small talk. "Anything else? Ask me if I'm taking any other kind of stim packs, or maybe I should lie about eating all my recommended fruits and vegetables?" It was a laugh from Hunter this time, deep and hearty and genuine from his chest. 

"Are you?" Picking up a pre-moistened cleaning wipe from the little packet within the medkit, Hunter removed the sloppy wrappings around her dominant arm that [____] had applied before trying to call it a day and properly deal with everything in the morning. Dried smears of red lay underneath the gauze, something that made Hunter's gut drop slightly. Either she had done an uncharacteristically poor job cleaning her injuries, or these were more intensive than believed and they were slow-bleeders that hadn't scabbed over completely. 

"Tck…Can't say I'm any better than most of my patients, if I'm honest." Hunter hummed slightly, gingerly blotting along the length of the mild laceration. It had to have been an unpleasant injury after losing all her emergency supplies and nothing to ease it right away until she stumbled back to her ship. It looked fairly deep to him, but couldn't be certain. "Mmh! That stings." 

"'It's supposed to, little guy. Means it's working.' I swear Cross could have killed you with a look if the parasite wasn't actively killing him over being called a little guy like he was a kid." 

"Ha-ha. Very funny, Tech." [____] half-heartedly mocked Hunter's sharp recollection of their first encounter, trying to stifle a coming yawn. That time felt so long ago now; longer than it actually was. "I was only trying to keep him calm and comfortable. I see a lot of children at my clinic so it's a habit I've de-developed… excuse me, sorry about that. People… don't exactly love doctors." 

Hunter paused mid-blot, giving her a firm look to show her he was serious. Something in Hunter didn't like the way she'd said it, it didn't sit right with him. "Nonsense, cyar'ika. People love doctors; they just don't love going to them. Big difference. Trust me." Trust me like I trust you he wanted to say. He wouldn't. He believed it was mutually understood, no need for explicitly stating so (partly an old habit in thanks to how he communicated with many a vod during the war). "People…" Hunter tried further explaining, leaving out the "like us" he again believed didn't need to be said "...might be embarrassed, or fearful, or worried about going to the medic, but they understand they need to go because the medics will be able to make them better. They don't hate the doctor; they hate the doctor's office…" Hunter paused, digesting his own words with a questioning expression as he set aside the pre-moistened wipe, now soiled. "Now of course I think I just sound like I'm condescendingly explaining your own job to you." 

"Heh. Don't worry about it. Too tired to care," the weary medic offered with a reassuring smile, leaning into the backrest of the couch with a slowing blink-rate. "I'm just more concerned about staying awake, while I'm the patient for once, for you." 

For you. Something about it was unintentionally sweet to Hunter and made something within him flutter for a moment. That was happening a lot lately, every time he thought of her. He kept chalking it up to his enhancements and memories of the Kaminoans testing him and the others that remained of the experimental unit, the sharp sterility of antiseptic that lingered in her clinic and her clothing and her hair that sometimes turned his stomach, or simply a disconnected unfamiliarity with those who were not Clones… though, while perhaps he never felt truly connected with them and the way some called them the 'Sad Batch' (or called Omega a lab scabber) when they thought they could get away with it, they had still been his brothers in arms in the war.

A war they were still running from. One they nearly lost Crosshair to after 'things went screwy on Kaller' as Wrecker put it once. What an understatement… if Hunter hadn't been so insistent with the Shock Troopers down in the brig that the Batch stayed together to the point that they tased Hunter to shut him up instead of extracting Cross, then Crosshair likely would have been siphoned off to some corner of Tipoca City and had the activation of his inhibitor chip nudged along into unpleasant possibilities Hunter had nightmares about in addition to so many things he'd seen… done, during the Clone Wars. It'd been difficult, and he'd hated part of himself for it, but as they made their initial escape from Kamino, he threatened to stun Crosshair if he didn't kriffing shut up about following orders they didn't even understand for five minutes! so hard he wouldn't wake up until they reached the next star system. 

There had been so much bickering. They still bickered even after Captain Rex got in touch with them, somehow, after they left Saleucami visiting the Lawquane family (which had been tricky and Tech worked the loophole that Crosshair could not report Cut for desertion because it had been the GAR when he went AWOL and now it no longer existed, it was the Empire now, right? half to death before Crosshair reluctantly let it be), and they got their chips removed in the rusted out shell of a Venator on Bracca and had been lured into a trap set by Tarkin back on Kamino. Because if Tarkin could not have this SpecOps force, nobody in the galaxy could; he'd aimed to wipe them out and they'd narrowly avoided being swallowed in the eternal seas of the closest thing they had to a homeworld. 

It took a long time for the bickering to stop. They were at their throats for a while still until… Crosshair had gotten really, really sick. 

That's what led to this friendship with a medic who had been willing to help them nearly a year ago. Though lately, it was feeling… different.

"Hey…" [____] broke the building silence while Hunter had been searching for a bacta patch, and Hunter initially worried he'd done something to tip her off to the personal burdens, the memories, he shouldered. "...weird question for ya, if that's okay." 

"How weird?" Hunter tried, careful not to let the hesitancy and budding anxieties show in his voice. There's the karking things. He'd probably need a couple of them to make sure he had it covered so it would heal up nicely, quickly.

"Oh, not very. I just wanna pick your brain a bit." 

Ah. Just curiosity. He affixed the first patch over the first half of the laceration, careful not to prod the bruised flesh with unnecessary pressure. "Alright, pick away." 

"What is… your favorite memory? When you're having a bad day… what's the thing you think about that always cheers you up?"

"Heh… your day was really that bad that you're looking for advice from a soldier, doc?" Hunter teased, applying a second patch over the laceration. He wasn't sure what he could truthfully answer with while he was carefully measuring out a length of sterile gauze to hold the patches in place on her dominant arm, there being too many little, fleeting happy moments rather than significant memories to spin some story from. But he'd try. "I guess for me… it's less what I think of and more of what I do after a bad mission. Clean my gear. Tidy up my rack. Buff out my helmet-" 

The medic smirked, a solitary, quiet laugh interrupting Hunter's train of thought. 

Oh, Maker… he'd forgotten the suggestive context behind the phrase she often heard in the infancy of her profession in the midst of the Clone Wars. He'd heard she'd get the stray Clone on occasion at the large health center she was employed at once on a different planet but didn't know how much truth there was to it. "K'uur: that was not a euphemism." 

That was met with a nervous giggle that made his stomach flutter. "S-sorry; old habits, and a non-professional setting where I can actually laugh." [____] offered meekly, face flushing with color while he wound the wrapping around her forearm. "C-continue, Hunter, please. 'Buff out your helmet' and...?" The unspoken what else on her tongue was permission enough to show she was serious about him continuing. 

"And… check in with the others, I suppose. Make sure that everyone is okay. Spend time with them. Strengthen personal bonds."

A lot like what the two of them were doing now, he supposed. The unintentional check in. Taking care of her injuries while they sat side by side in the common room as the rest of the Batch were sleeping. Except maybe for Tech who often tinkered away on his datapad or the desk he'd squeezed into the room he shared with Wrecker (who wasn't bothered by a roommate with a propensity to dink around with some little gadget or piece of equipment when he was sleeping or resting) at these hours. Or Crosshair, who was often awake and asleep around the same times Hunter was, since they'd have muffled "conversations" through the walls when neither could sleep on occasion. But all was relatively still and quiet in each of his brother's rooms, and the steady rumble of the noise machine in Omega's room meant his sister was asleep. 

Drumming rain and swirling waves. The perpetual ambiance of Kamino. He hoped the little machine replicating the soundscape engrained in her memories wouldn't cause her to dream of the Venator class ships bombing the cloning facilities tonight… 

While Hunter had been lost in his senses, his worries, the medic had been busy mulling over his words. There was a ghost of a smile taking the place of the pained frown she previously bore. "That all sounds… really nice."

The last injury tended to, Hunter set everything aside and gave [____]'s shoulder a tender double-pat, feeling the tense muscles under his hand as he held his hand there after the friendly gesture. "There you go, ad'ika. All patched up." 

"Thanks, appreciate the help Hunter. Could I… trouble you a little further by crashing here for the night? I don't think I'm in a fit state to get back home around now. Far, far too tired." It was definitely not a safe time for a woman to be walking by herself without a blaster, nevermind a tired, injured woman who'd been an invaluable friend to Clone Force 99. He'd never have sent her home to begin with, giving how deeply her chin dipped into her chest with fatigue. "No trouble at all; you're welcome to take my bed, if you want." Hunter offered, giving her shoulder a friendly squeeze. He'd sleep out here in the common room so none of his brothers would get any funny ideas if both he and the medic emerged from the smallest of all the bedrooms in the housing together. 

Why the Sith's hells did he just think that?

[____] winced in mild complaint, laugh laced with pain. "Ow, that's quite a grip there, soldier!" 

"Sorry," he apologized, "didn't realize how hard it'd be. You carry a lot of stress and tension in your shoulders, ad'ika… I can feel how stiff your muscles are. I… have some experience with providing some relief for that, thanks to all the practice I've had with Wrecker and Tech. Tech's posture is a mess-" He rolled the palm of his hand against her shoulder experimentally, gauging the pliability of the tensest muscle, and she leaned into it eagerly with a whimpering 'oh, Maker…!' surprising even herself. Hunter decided he'd stubbornly pretend not to imagine how not-so-innocent the sound was, to keep talking about his brothers and ignore the heat in his lower belly, another flutter of his heart. "Tech spends hours hunched over his datapad, or some little gadget, or spends hours in those rigid crash seats in the Marauder with his muscles wound so tight he's practically locked in place. Wrecker takes such a beating each mission it's just… uh,"

"A w-way of taking care of him afterwards?" She helped him where he faultured. 

"Yeah. That's one part of it. Here, turn so I can get both shoulders." He had her melting under his touch quickly, the practically unhurried worship in this massage he was working into the medic's shoulders, neck, and the dominant arm. The muscles were so stiff and taut under her skin, under his ungloved hands. They were afraid to speak and break the reverence of this moment, the silent work of friend helping friend between each little involuntary sound of great relief or wince of brief pain as each tight, brow-bunching knot slowly surrendered. Her breathing pattern slowed as every minute elapsed between them beyond the gentle moans of relief as Hunter methodically kneaded the muscle free of tension with dexterous fingers. He wouldn't need to dig in so deeply like taking care of Wrecker's messes of well-defined muscle, for which he was grateful, to make any kind of progress, or go so tenderly to start with like he has to for Tech (on occasion) that the goggled Clone sometimes became a little impatient because he wasn't feeling any external relief. He could dip his fingers just a little deeper and just a little shallower, like those perpetual waves of Kamino replicated on Omega's sound machine, as he worked one muscle at a time for the unlikely friend who sat with him on the couch. 

It felt roughly the same to strengthening the bonds of the squad to Hunter, but again there was that fluttering in his heart that suggested this was so very different when he realized that when he moved back to [____]'s neck one last time, at her asking, and planted one of his palms on the opposite side of her face to keep her steadied as he dug little circles around the tight muscles under the base of her skull with his thumb that she took one last deep breath and was soon asleep in half a heart's beat between them. 

Hunter froze as he was, face hot in panic with the reality that he was now entirely supporting, for the moment, a female friend who was upright and asleep in his hands. Not knowing what to do just as the medic became more limp, he effectively locked himself in place when, on reflex, he caught her upper body against his before lowering it into his lap. A move he'd done a hundred times when one of the squad was this close to fainting out in the field.

Oh, you're kidding me… why the kriff did I do that?

[MASTERLIST] [NEXT]

#frostfics #Sorry Wrong Comms! #a typical Medic!Reader? it's more likely than you think #tbb hunter x reader #hunter x reader #tbb x reader #tbb hunter #hunter tbb #tbb headcanons #sw tbb #star wars x reader #star wars au #x reader #star wars fan fiction #ummm what else should I tag this as? #the bad batch #tbb #tbb crosshair #tbb tech #tbb omega #tbb wrecker #tbb echo

[redhairedmuses]

I've written over 10k words to a plot bunny and I am STILL NOT DONE.

someone send help??

@tkwritesdumbassassins

#writing #the bad batch #star wars #star wars fanfiction #fan fic #fan fiction #sw fanfic #sw fandom #sw tbb #tbb fanfiction #tbb hunter #tbb tech #tbb wrecker #tbb crosshair #tbb omega

[523rdrebel]

Chapter 3 -

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Summary: AU/Canon Divergent - Set after the rescue of Crosshair, Omega, and Tech from Mount Tantis. The Batch settles down on Pabu and are, for the moment, able to hide from the Empire. Crosshair, with much grumbling, is convinced to see one of the local doctors to monitor his recovery. Unfortunately for Crosshair, Dr. Isabella Ramót is a ray of sunshine and a breath of fresh air - and totally capable of handling his harsh, rough demeanor.

Trigger Warnings - Mention/Allusion to grief and loss. SFW, but mature themes explored. Minors DNI.

Chapter 3:

Hunter observes the scene from afar, his heightened senses zeroing in as his brother’s erratic heart rate slowly begins to calm and regulate alongside Izzy’s steady presence. Well that’s new, he thinks.

“She’s really something special, isn’t she?” Desi, Izzy’s friend, someone Hunter was only tentatively acquainted with, stood a few steps away observing the scene as well.

Hunter chuckles, “My brother is remarkably stubborn. He doesn’t open up easily-” He pauses, reconsidering his words, then sighs, “Izzy seems to have a way with him that I haven’t seen before. Think she’ll teach me?”

“I’m afraid that’s just a part of who she is. Not sure it’s a teachable skill.” Desi laughs, glancing affectionately across the grassy area to where her friend was still sitting.

“You’ve known her for a long time then?”

“Five or six years now. We’ve been together through a lot… After the Empire–” “Well, I’ll just say she’s no stranger to pain and loss.”

“I imagine there aren’t many of us who are anymore.”

A few moments later, Izzy motions for Hunter to assist her getting Crosshair home. It takes some time, in part because of Crosshair’s weakened state and in part because of the surprising height difference between the two of them. Once they arrived at Crosshair’s lodging, a one room flat, with minimal furnishings and a small ‘fresher, they help Crosshair to a plush, if well-used, chair. He tries to hide his wince as he lowers himself down into the seat. Hunter quietly chastises his brother for scaring the kriff out of him and assures him that he’ll assign a watch cycle if he does anything like this again. Crosshair’s only response is to scowl and roll his eyes. Hunter eventually sighs, checking the time on the chrono and saying his goodbyes. He nods his thanks to Izzy before exiting with promises to check in tomorrow.

Crosshair leans back into the chair, closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths. The sounds of rummaging in his tiny kitchenette draw his attention and he opens his eyes slightly, “What are you doing?”

Bells continues to rummage through his sparse cabinets and refrigeration unit, “Finding something remotely edible, hopefully.”

He was feeling particularly vulnerable after the cliff. She had seen him at his weakest moment, she had sat with him and waited for him to come back, out of the darkness. He could not understand how she seemed so capable of drawing him out of the darkness of his own mind. It irked and irritated, but it also soothed. She burned like a sun - all soothing warmth and burning heat. He was a thunderstorm, rain and wind charged with electricity. “You’ve done enough. Get out.” His voice is gruff and tired, having lost some of its usual bite. 

“Tsk- Not a chance.” She smiles, that dangerous brightness, as she places her findings onto the small counter space.  “I’m not leaving until you’ve had something acceptable to eat and had enough liquid for your body to process the hydration tablets.” She holds up a small foil packet, gesturing with it as she speaks.

“I’m not a child. I can take care of myself–”

“And on a normal day that would be true. But today, I’m providing you with free room service. Complaints will be noted and promptly ignored.”

“Ugh–You’re worse than Wrecker…”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It wasn’t,” His voice is deadpan.

Bells responds in kind, a small amused smirk on her lips, “I know.”

She makes a simple meal, a brothy soup with some vegetables and a mild meat and brings him some. He glares at her, but the smell makes his stomach rumble and he cannot deny his hunger any longer. “What? You just going watch me eat?” “No,” she looks away, eyes darting here and there around the room before staring down at the floor. “I didn’t figure you’d appreciate it if I wandered around, snooping.”

“Hmph…” He tries to ignore her presence, tries to ignore the warmth she seemed to radiate. He says flatly, “How nice.”

After a time of mostly comfortable silence, Crosshair finishes his meal and an acceptable amount of liquid. Isabella fishes a few items from her pack and quickly checks his vitals. “The next time you get like that…call me, call someone. Just– you don’t have to be alone with it.”

“You shouldn’t say things you don’t mean, Bells.”

“Tsk- You know I do mean it.”

“Stupid.” He snaps.  “You don’t know- You don’t understand. You can’t understand.” He tried to cover the pain behind his words with more anger. Anger was simpler, more familiar. “It’s better that I’m alone.”

“You’re right.” Her brows furrow and she shakes her head, “I don’t understand…I don’t fully know what you’ve been through, and I’m not going to ask you– I don’t need to know, and it doesn’t really matter. All I know is that what happened to you was wrong and I want to be here to help you throw up your middle fingers at the Empire– by living.”

He bristles at her words, they were accurate and he didn’t appreciate how easily she seemed to read him, “I’m not your project, Bells.” 

“I know. But you are my patient. And I'm still holding out hope that one day we'll be friends.” After a moment, she hands him the packet of hydration tables which he accepts, rolling his eyes.

He scoffs dismissively, “Don’t hold your breath. Or do.” 

Her eyes scan the room, landing briefly on an object in the far corner, her brain sparks an idea that could potentially solve two problems- increasing Crosshair’s motivation to improve and keeping him from isolating himself completely. Despite the short time she’s known him, she finds that she knows he’s worth the risk. She glances sidelong at Crosshair, “How about we change up your exercises a bit?”

“...What did you have in mind?” He drew out the syllables, squinting at her with that suspicious glare.

She crosses the room to stand beside the footlocker that had been nestled into the corner gathering dust. She flashes her bright smile and gestures towards it and arches an eyebrow, “Teach me.”

Crosshair's face goes blank, anger flashing in his eyes, "No."

His anger revealed his hand, exposing the queen - Check. Isabella is patient, almost to a fault, but perhaps it is not time for waiting… perhaps now is the time for a push. She simply crosses her arms and lifts her chin up, she locks eyes with him daring him to deny her.

“You’re not laying a finger on my rifle!” He snarls, leveraging himself out of the chair, despite his lingering weakness and exhaustion. His legs shake, but he ignores them and steps menacingly towards her. There is a battle within him, two sides opposing, pushing against each other but neither gaining ground. His fingers itch to hold his rifle again, to feel the confidence and strength, to feel whole again. But there is a gnawing coldness that eats away at him, that he can’t, that he’s no longer capable, no longer worthy. 

Bell’s voice breaks through the storm in his mind, a sunshower in a hurricane, “Think about it, Crosshair-- It will be a way to ease you back into it. You’ll get to work up that muscle memory, and as long as you stay on top of your physical therapy, you’ll be back in the shooting range before you know it!” She crosses her arms, an insufferably confident smirk plastered on her face, “And I‘ll have been taught by the best.”

He snorts, feeling his broken pride like a pool of acid in his gut. He grinds the word with his teeth, “No.”

Not one to be easily deterred, and certain of her path to help her patient, she continues, “I’m not unfamiliar with blasters. I know how to handle a standard rifle, but sniper rifles are more specialized and much less accessible–” 

“I said No.” He leans forward into her space, glaring down at her and once again struck by her seemingly endless cheer, “You’re not a soldier. You don’t need to learn.” Adding a little more emphasis attempting finality, “No.”

Instead of backing away, She takes a step forward angling her chin upward, eyes softening slightly, “You need something familiar. Something that is a comfort to you– and your skill with a rifle is as close to an identity as you’ve had until now.”

Her gentle glance sears into him and he takes a step backward, he’s losing ground. He shakes his head,  “A rifle is not a toy– it’s not a hobby–”

Her voice is lower, taking on a heavier tone, “I know.” Bells’s face flashes with guilt, anger, and fear, then finally fierce determination. “You’ve seen what’s out there. And so have I. I know what happens to places like Pabu– to people like me when the Empire finds them. If they come here, I won’t go down without a fight.”

He watches the emotions playing across her face. Guilt and anger, now those are emotions he knows what to do with. They are as familiar to him as close friends and he feels a tugging pull in his chest, a connection. Before his mind has caught up to him, he's already spoken, a low growled “Fine–”

“Really!?” She’s staring at him with a bright expression- victory.

He panics, once again thrown off balance by his own acquiescence to her. He scrambles for a way out, "I'll do it on one condition."

She rolls her eyes and snarks playfully, "Of course– Can’t make things easy, it might kill you."

"Stop interrupting-” He watches as she mimes locking her lips and lets out an exasperated sigh, “You have to convince me you can handle a blaster. I'm not going to waste my time if you don't know the first thing about them. If you're good enough- I'll teach you."

"Ah, but how do I know you won't just say I'm trash, so you don't have to keep your end of the bargain?" 

Crosshair smiled again, it was his turn to push forward, taking ground, “Afraid you're not good enough?" He clicks his tongue, "If you're not up to the challenge–"

"Fine. It's a deal."

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