Hi! I was wondering if you could do a TBB x Fem!Reader +any other clones of your choice, where they keep using pet names in mandoa like cyar'ika, mesh'la, and maybe even riduur?(because they might’ve gotten accidentally married? Love those tropes)
but the reader has no idea what they mean and that they’re pet names or that the batch likes her. Eventually she finds out of course and a bunch of stuttering cute confessions?
Your writing is so amazing and i literally can’t get enough of it! Xx
“Say It Again?”
TBB x Fem!Reader
You had gotten used to the way clones talked — the gruffness, the slang, the camaraderie. But ever since you’d been working more closely with Clone Force 99, you’d noticed something… different.
They used weird words around you. Words you didn’t hear other troopers saying.
Hunter always greeted you with a gentle “Cyar’ika,” accompanied by that intense little half-smile of his.
Wrecker would beam and shout, “Mesh’la! You came!” every time you entered a room — like you were some goddess descending from the stars.
Crosshair, as always, was smug and cool, throwing in a soft “Riduur…” under his breath when he thought you weren’t listening, though you never figured out what it meant. He often smirked when you looked confused, and somehow that made it worse.
Even Tech, who rarely used nicknames at all, had let slip a casual “You’re quite remarkable, mesh’la,” when you helped him debug his datapad. He didn’t look up, but you felt the heat in his voice.
And Echo? Sweet, dependable Echo — he was the least subtle of them all.
“You alright, cyar’ika?”
“You look tired, cyar’ika.”
“Get some rest, cyar’ika.”
You were starting to think “Cyar’ika” meant your actual name.
But something was off. The others never used those words with each other. Only with you.
So, naturally, you asked Rex.
And Rex choked on his caf.
“You—what did Crosshair call you?” he coughed, wiping his chin.
You repeated it: “Rid…uur? I think? I dunno. He said it real low.”
Rex gave you the slowest blink you’d ever seen and then rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“Riduur means… spouse. As in… wife. It’s what you call your partner.”
You froze. “What?!”
“And cyar’ika?” he continued, amused. “Sweetheart. Mesh’la is ‘beautiful.’ They’re… Mando’a pet names. Very affectionate.”
The blushing.
The flashbacks.
All those words… those looks… Tech calling you remarkable like it was a scientific fact, Crosshair smirking like he had secrets, Echo’s voice dropping a full octave every time he said cyar’ika…
You marched straight into the Havoc Marauder like a woman on a mission — and promptly forgot how to speak when all five of them looked up at you.
“…You okay, mesh’la?” Hunter asked gently.
You blinked. Your voice cracked. “…You’ve been calling me sweetheart?”
The room went dead silent.
Echo dropped his ration bar.
Wrecker panicked. “Wait—you didn’t know?”
Crosshair chuckled and leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “Told you she didn’t know.”
Tech frowned at him. “Statistically, the odds of her knowing were—”
“You called me your wife,” you said, pointing at Crosshair like he’d committed a war crime.
He shrugged. “Didn’t hear you complain.”
You stammered something completely unintelligible, covering your face with both hands, and Wrecker let out the loudest, happiest laugh you’d ever heard. “So… does that mean you like us back?”
You peeked through your fingers. “…Us?”
Hunter stepped forward slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “We all… kinda do. Like you. A lot.”
You were red. Like, fruit-on-Ryloth red. “You’re telling me five elite clones have been flirting with me in another language this whole time?!”
“…Yes,” they all mumbled at once.
Crosshair grinned like he’d won a bet. “So… Riduur?”
“Riduur?” Crosshair repeated, lifting a brow like it was nothing. Like he hadn’t just dropped a romantic thermal detonator right in front of everyone.
You stared at him. At all of them.
Hunter’s quiet guilt. Echo’s embarrassed fidgeting. Wrecker’s hopeful puppy-dog smile. Tech’s analytical interest. And Crosshair’s smug little smirk that you really wanted to slap off his face… or maybe kiss.
You swallowed. “I—I need a second.”
And then promptly turned on your heel and walked right back out of the Marauder.
⸻
You spent the rest of the day spiraling.
Sweetheart. Beautiful. Wife.
They’d been calling you those for weeks. Months, maybe. You were out here thinking it was some fun cultural expression or inside joke you weren’t in on—and it turns out you were the joke. The target. Of five clone commandos’… affection?
It didn’t feel like a joke, though. It felt sincere. Soft. Safe.
And scary.
Because you liked them. All of them. Differently, but genuinely. The thought of them caring about you—of whispering pet names they grew up hearing in the most intimate, personal ways—made your chest ache in a way you didn’t know how to handle.
⸻
The next day, you avoided them.
The next day, they let you.
The third day, Hunter found you in the mess hall, sat beside you without a word, and handed you a steaming mug of caf.
You looked at him.
He didn’t speak right away. Then: “We’re sorry. If we made you uncomfortable.”
“I’m not uncomfortable,” you blurted out. “I just… didn’t know how to react. I’m still trying to figure it out.”
Hunter nodded, eyes kind. “We can stop. The nicknames, I mean.”
You hesitated. “No. I don’t want you to stop.”
He smiled, just a little. “You sure?”
You nodded. “I think I like them. I just… I want to know what they mean now.”
⸻
So, one by one, the boys showed you.
Wrecker said “mesh’la” every time you helped him carry heavy crates, with a goofy grin that made your stomach flip.
Echo said “cyar’ika” after every quiet conversation, letting the word linger like a promise he wasn’t ready to say aloud yet.
Tech, precise as always, began to offer direct translations.
“You look stunning today, mesh’la—objectively, of course.”
Crosshair didn’t stop with “riduur.” He started calling you “cyar’ika” too—softly, in rare unguarded moments—and he never looked away when he said it. Like he meant it. Like he knew what it was doing to you.
And Hunter? Hunter started saying “ner cyar’ika.” My sweetheart.
⸻
It wasn’t instant.
But slowly, their voices stopped making you flustered—and started making you feel home.
You started saying their names softer. Started touching their arms when you passed. Started blushing less… and smiling more.
And one day, while standing beside Wrecker during maintenance, you reached up on your toes, kissed his cheek, and whispered, “Thanks, cyare.”
He blinked. His whole face lit up like a nova. “You said it back!”
Later, you caught Echo outside the ship. Nervous, swaying slightly on his heels. You pressed your hand into his and whispered, “You can keep calling me cyar’ika, you know.”
He looked down at you with wide eyes. “You really don’t mind?”
You shook your head. “I like it.”
And Tech, when you repeated “mesh’la” with a teasing little lilt, glanced at you and—just this once—forgot what he was doing.
Even Crosshair dropped his toothpick when you looked him dead in the eye and whispered: “You keep calling me your riduur. What does that make you, then?”
He blinked. Once. Then smiled. Really smiled. “Yours.”
⸻
By the time you curled up beside Hunter one quiet night, your head on his shoulder and his hand tracing slow circles on your back, he murmured “ner cyar’ika” and you didn’t freeze or stammer.
You just smiled.
Because now you knew.
And you finally, finally understood that you’d never been the joke.
summary: You’re freezing during an outdoor patrol on a snowy world, and Hunter notices before you say anything.
word count: 4.0k+
pairing: hunter (the bad batch) x fem!reader
notes: me??? writing for hunter in the year 2025??? it's been a year since i wrote for him or any of the bad batch so this was a nice return to my roots. writing this got me literally giggling and blushing and kicking my feet. also, consider this my (late) entry for dincember, hosted by @dindjarindiaries. i did the prompts for week 1 - snow, cold, gloves. hope y'all enjoy!!!
warnings/tags: no use of y/n, the team - hunter, echo, tech (because i said so!!! tech lives!!!), wrecker, and omega, some sort of mission on a snowy planet, wrecker is a little shit, fluff, soft!hunter, omega is a cutie pie, not proofread
12 days of christmas masterlist
The ramp lowers with a hiss of hydraulics, and the cold hits immediately. It isn’t gentle or gradual. It slams into you like a living thing, sharp and invasive, forcing its way through layers of fabric and armor with a biting persistence that makes your breath catch in your throat. Snow stretches out in every direction, pale and untouched except for the faint marks left by the ship’s landing struts. The sky hangs low and heavy, clouds thick with the promise of more snowfall.
You step down after Hunter, boots crunching into packed ice, and already your fingers feel wrong inside your gloves. Stiff. Numb at the tips, even though you’d sworn they were fine back on the Marauder.
“Atmospheric temperature is well below the local average,” Tech says, adjusting his goggles as his scanner hums to life. “Approximately twelve degrees colder than last year’s seasonal reports.”
Wrecker lets out a loud laugh, steam puffing from his mouth. “Feels great! Beats melting in armor any day.”
Echo shakes his head, though there’s a faint curve to his mouth. “Give it an hour.”
Omega hops down last, bundled up and bright-eyed despite the cold. She looks around with open wonder, boots sinking slightly into the snow. “It’s beautiful,” she says, breath fogging in front of her. “Do you think it’s always like this?”
“Unlikely,” Tech replies. “Statistically speaking, prolonged storms of this magnitude—”
Hunter lifts a hand, quieting him as his helmet tilts subtly, scanning the horizon. You know the look by now. Focused. Alert. Every sense tuned outward. “Let’s move,” he says. “We’ll sweep the perimeter and see what those readings were about.”
You nod along with the rest of them and fall into step as the group fans out, your boots crunching rhythmically against the snow. The wind cuts harder once you’re clear of the ship, slipping through seams you didn’t even realize existed. You tuck your chin down slightly, breathing slow and steady, refusing to let it show on your face.
You’re fine. You’ve handled worse than a little cold. Still, your shoulders tense when another gust rolls through, stronger than the last, and you shove your hands deeper into your pockets between steps. The snow reflects the light back up at you, bright enough to sting your eyes, and the silence of the place presses in. No wildlife. No distant machinery. Just wind and white and the soft hum of Tech’s scanner somewhere behind you.
Hunter slows half a step, just enough that you nearly bump into him. “Formation,” he says evenly, though his eyes flick sideways instead of forward.
You adjust without comment, moving slightly to his side as the patrol spreads out more deliberately. Wrecker lumbers ahead, breaking through drifts like they’re nothing, while Echo keeps Omega close and Tech mutters to himself as data scrolls across his screen.
You tell yourself you don’t notice Hunter angling his body to block the worst of the wind when it kicks up again. You definitely don’t think about how the space beside him feels warmer, even through armor and gear.
Your fingers ache now, a deep, pulsing cold that crawls up your knuckles. You flex them slowly, once, twice, keeping the movement small so no one comments. The last thing you want is to be told to turn back before the mission even starts.
Hunter glances over again, this time lingering. His brow furrows almost imperceptibly beneath the bandana, and his head tilts, like he’s listening to something only he can hear. “You good?” he asks, casual on the surface, but there’s an edge beneath it.
You look up at him, forcing a smile that you hope passes for normal. “Yeah. Just cold.”
The word betrays you a little. Your voice comes out tighter than you expect, breath hitching at the end. You clear your throat quickly and keep walking, eyes fixed on the terrain ahead. “Copy that,” he says, but he doesn’t look convinced.
Snow crunches underfoot as the patrol continues, the wind howling low across the plain. Somewhere behind you, Omega laughs at something Wrecker says, her voice bright against the cold, and for a moment you wish you could feel it the way she seems to. Unbothered. Warm.
Instead, you focus on putting one foot in front of the other, ignoring the numbness creeping steadily upward, unaware that Hunter has already noticed far more than you intended to give away.
The terrain shifts as you move farther from the Marauder, the snow growing deeper and less compacted. Each step takes a little more effort than the last, boots sinking just enough to drag at your legs. The wind doesn’t let up. If anything, it sharpens, sweeping across the open plain and cutting into exposed skin with deliberate cruelty.
Hunter adjusts the formation with quiet hand signals, spreading everyone out while keeping sightlines clear. Wrecker pushes ahead without trouble, leaving a messy trail of footprints behind him, while Tech pauses every few meters to scan the area, his breath fogging up his goggles before he impatiently wipes them clear.
“Readings are still fluctuating,” Tech says, frowning at his datapad. “There’s an energy spike somewhere nearby, but it’s inconsistent. Almost rhythmic.”
“Like machinery?” Echo asks, glancing toward a low ridge in the distance.
“Possibly,” Tech replies. “Though the output doesn’t match any standard—”
Another gust of wind slams into you, stronger than the rest. It steals the breath from your lungs and sends a shiver down your spine that you can’t quite suppress this time. Your shoulders hitch before you catch yourself, jaw tightening as you force your breathing back into something steady.
Hunter notices. He doesn’t say anything at first. He just slows his pace again, subtle enough that no one else comments, until you’re walking directly beside him. His presence is solid and grounding, his stride steady, and you find yourself unconsciously matching it just to stay upright against the wind. “You’re lagging,” he says quietly, eyes still forward.
“I’m not,” you answer immediately, a little too fast. You hate how defensive it sounds, so you soften it. “The snow’s deeper here.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
You glance up at him despite yourself. His gaze flicks down for just a second, sharp and assessing, before returning to the horizon. It makes your chest tighten in a way you don’t quite understand.
Your fingers are properly numb now. Not just cold, but that deep, aching numbness that makes everything feel clumsy and distant. You flex them again inside your gloves, trying to coax sensation back, and nearly stumble when your foot catches on uneven ground.
Hunter’s hand shoots out without hesitation, gripping your forearm and steadying you before you can fall. “You alright?” he asks, voice low.
You nod, pulling your arm back a bit too quickly. “Yeah. Just didn’t see the dip.”
He doesn’t argue, but his grip lingers a second longer than necessary before he lets go. The warmth from his touch bleeds through the fabric of your sleeve, startling in contrast to the cold, and you have to resist the urge to lean back into it.
Ahead of you, Wrecker turns and calls out, “hey, Sarge! There’s a drop-off up here. Looks like the land slopes down toward that ridge.”
Hunter raises two fingers in acknowledgment. “Copy that. Hold position.”
The team slows to a stop, spreading out instinctively as they assess the terrain. You plant your feet and try not to sway, focusing on the horizon while the cold seeps deeper into your bones. Your breath comes out in thin, controlled puffs, but your teeth chatter once before you can stop them.
Hunter hears it. He turns fully toward you this time, eyes narrowing just slightly. “You said you were fine.”
You huff out a quiet laugh, more breath than sound. “I am. It’s just colder than I expected.”
“That wasn’t the question,” he says.
You hesitate, just long enough for him to read the answer in the pause. The truth is written all over you if someone knows how to look. The tension in your shoulders. The way you keep curling your fingers like you’re trying to wake them up. The faint tremor in your breathing that you can’t quite control anymore.
Omega’s voice cuts in before you can respond. She jogs back from where Echo’s standing, boots kicking up little sprays of snow as she skids to a stop in front of you.
“Are you cold?” she asks, concern creasing her brow.
You smile at her, trying to keep it light. “I’m okay. I promise.”
She doesn’t look convinced, and neither does Hunter.
“Tech,” Hunter says, without taking his eyes off you, “how long until that next scan finishes?”
“Approximately three minutes,” Tech replies. “Assuming no further interference.”
“Good,” Hunter says. “We’ll pause here.”
Wrecker grins. “Break time already? Nice.”
“It’s tactical,” Hunter adds flatly.
You know better, but you don’t call him on it. Instead, you shift your weight and try to shake some life back into your hands. It doesn’t help much. The cold feels stubborn now, settled deep, and the longer you stand still the worse it gets.
Hunter steps closer, close enough that his shoulder brushes yours when the wind surges again. This time, he angles his body deliberately, blocking you from the worst of it. His presence cuts the cold just enough to make a difference, and you hate how much relief you feel. “Next time,” he says quietly, so only you can hear, “don’t wait until it’s this bad to say something.”
You swallow, throat tight. “I didn’t want to slow everyone down.”
His jaw clenches at that, something like frustration flickering across his expression. “You’re part of the team. That includes knowing when to speak up.”
You nod, even though the words settle heavily in your chest. He’s right, and you know it, but knowing doesn’t make it easier to admit weakness out loud.
The scan finishes with a soft chime, Tech calling out new data, and the patrol prepares to move again. As you start forward, Hunter stays close, matching your pace step for step, his attention divided between the terrain ahead and the quiet, undeniable truth he’s already picked up on.
You might not have said anything, but he knows now. And he isn’t going to ignore it. The patrol resumes, but the rhythm is different now.
Hunter keeps the pace slower without announcing it, subtle enough that Wrecker doesn’t complain and Tech doesn’t comment on inefficiency. The ridge looms closer, its shadow stretching long across the snow, and the wind changes direction as you approach it. Instead of cutting straight at you, it funnels between the rock formations, sharp and unpredictable, slipping through gaps in armor and fabric alike.
You try to focus on the mission. You really do. You listen to Tech’s muttered analysis, to Echo’s quiet updates as he checks their rear, to Omega’s soft questions about the terrain. Still, the cold keeps tugging at your awareness, demanding attention no matter how hard you push it aside.
Your steps feel heavier now, like your boots are filled with lead. The numbness in your fingers has crept into your palms, dull and uncomfortable, and when you curl your hands into fists, it takes real effort to make them move.
Hunter notices all of it. He doesn’t need to look this time. The shift in your breathing is enough, shallow and measured in a way that tells him you’re conserving warmth. He can hear your pulse, faster than it should be for a simple patrol, and the faint hitch every time a stronger gust hits you square in the chest. “Echo,” he says over the comm, “take Omega and swing a little wider. I want eyes on that slope.”
“Copy,” Echo replies immediately.
Omega hesitates, glancing back at you. “Be careful,” she says, earnest and worried, before Echo gently guides her away.
Once they’re a few steps off, Hunter slows again, letting Tech and Wrecker drift ahead toward the ridge. “Talk to me,” he says quietly.
You open your mouth, then close it. The truth feels heavier than the cold, lodged somewhere behind your ribs. “I’m okay,” you start, then falter when he raises an eyebrow. You sigh, breath fogging faintly in front of you. “I didn’t think it would get this bad this fast.”
“That’s not the same thing,” he replies.
“No,” you admit. “It’s not.”
You stop walking when he does, boots crunching softly into the snow. Standing still makes the cold spike sharply, and you have to bite down on your lip to keep from reacting. Hunter steps closer without hesitation, fully blocking the wind now, his shadow falling over you in a way that feels strangely protective.
He reaches for your hands. You tense instinctively, embarrassment flaring, but his touch is firm and unyielding. He pulls your gloved hands between his palms, pressing them together with slow, deliberate pressure. Even through layers of fabric, the warmth is immediate and startling. “You can’t feel them,” he says, not asking.
You shake your head once. “Not much.”
His jaw tightens. He glances toward the ridge where Tech and Wrecker are busy scanning the area, then back down at you. Without another word, he slips one glove off with his teeth and guides both your hands inside it, enclosing them against his bare palm.
The contrast makes you inhale sharply. Hunter’s skin is warm—solid, steady heat that seeps into you almost painfully at first. He adjusts his grip, thumbs pressing gently into your knuckles, coaxing circulation back with slow, careful movements.
“Hunter,” you murmur, half protest, half something else entirely. “You don’t have to—”
“I do,” he interrupts quietly. “You’re shaking.”
You hadn’t realized it was that obvious. The wind howls against the ridge, but you barely notice it now. All of your awareness narrows to the space between you, to the way his hands hold yours like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His focus is absolute, eyes fixed on your fingers as he works warmth back into them, expression tight with concentration.
Behind you, Wrecker lets out a loud cough that sounds suspiciously forced. “Oh no,” he says loudly. “Would you look at that, Tech. Absolutely nothing to see over here.”
Tech doesn’t even glance up from his scanner. “Your attempt at subtlety is statistically ineffective.”
“Hey, I tried,” Wrecker shrugs.
Hunter ignores them, though a faint exhale leaves him, something close to a huff of amusement. He keeps your hands where they are, unmoved by the attention. “You don’t get points for pushing through this,” he says, voice lower now. “If you get hurt out here, the whole team pays for it.”
You swallow, throat tight, repeating what you said earlier. “I didn’t want to be the reason we stopped.”
“You’re never the reason,” he replies immediately. The certainty in his tone steals your breath far more effectively than the cold ever could. “You matter. That’s not negotiable.”
The words settle deep, warming something in your chest that has nothing to do with temperature. You nod, unable to find a response that doesn’t feel too fragile to speak out loud. He finally eases his grip, though he doesn’t let go completely. Instead, he adjusts your scarf, tugging it higher to shield your neck, his fingers lingering just long enough to make your pulse jump. “Next time,” he says quietly, meeting your eyes, “you tell me sooner.”
You manage a small smile. “Okay.”
With one last squeeze of your hands, he steps back, slipping his glove on again and turning toward the ridge as if nothing out of the ordinary just happened. But as you start walking once more, warmth slowly returning to your fingers, you’re acutely aware of the shift between you. Hunter stays close, close enough that his shoulder brushes yours with every step, and this time, you don’t try to move away.
The ridge provides just enough cover to break the worst of the wind. Snow still swirls through the air, but it no longer cuts straight through you, and the difference is immediate. You breathe a little easier, shoulders loosening now that you’re not fighting the elements head-on.
Tech crouches near the base of the rock formation, scanner humming as he adjusts its settings. “The energy readings are stronger here,” he says. “Still irregular, but localized. Whatever’s causing it should be close.”
Wrecker plants himself nearby, arms crossed as he peers out over the slope. “So we’re not freezing for nothing. Good to know.”
Echo stands watch with Omega tucked close at his side, his posture relaxed but alert. Omega keeps glancing back at you, her expression thoughtful, like she’s piecing something together. Hunter stays where he is. Which is still beside you.
You become painfully aware of it now that the immediate urgency has passed. The warmth lingering in your hands. The way your body has adjusted to his presence, like it’s decided this is where you’re meant to stand. You flex your fingers again, surprised to find sensation returning, slow but steady.
“Feeling any better?” he asks quietly.
You nod. “Yeah. It’s coming back.”
“Good,” he says, but he doesn’t step away. Instead, he shifts slightly, angling his body so you’re still shielded from the worst of the wind curling around the ridge. The move is instinctive, unthinking, and that’s what makes it hit harder.
You hesitate, then speak before you can talk yourself out of it. “I didn’t mean to put you in that position.”
He looks at you, genuinely puzzled. “What position?”
“Having to… stop things. Take care of me.” You huff out a breath, shaking your head. “I know you’re responsible for everyone. I don’t want to make that harder.”
His expression softens, something steady and intent settling into his gaze. “You don’t make it harder,” he says. “You’re part of what I’m responsible for.”
There’s no grand declaration in his tone. No drama. Just truth, delivered plainly, like he expects you to understand it the same way he does. You swallow, heart thudding a little harder. “You don’t have to watch me that closely.”
“Yes, I do,” he replies without hesitation. Then, quieter, “I want to.”
The admission hangs between you, fragile and real. You don’t look away, even though every instinct tells you to deflect it with humor or change the subject. Instead, you let it settle, let it warm you in a way the gloves and scarf never could.
Hunter exhales slowly, like he’s realizing he said more than he intended. “You push yourself,” he continues, voice lower. “I get why. But you don’t have to prove anything to me.”
“I know,” you say, and this time you really mean it.
Behind you, Wrecker clears his throat again, louder than necessary. “Okay, so,” he says, drawing out the words, “either it’s getting real quiet because there’s danger nearby… or because something else is happening.”
Tech doesn’t even glance up. “Statistically speaking, this level of interpersonal tension suggests the latter.”
Wrecker grins. “Ha! Called it.”
You feel heat creep up your neck that has nothing to do with the cold, and you open your mouth to protest, but Omega beats you to it. “She was cold,” Omega says simply, like that explains everything. She looks between you and Hunter, eyes bright with understanding. “Hunter helped.”
Echo snorts softly. “That tracks.”
Hunter shoots Wrecker a look that should probably be intimidating, but Wrecker just grins wider. “What? I didn’t say anything.”
“You were about to,” Hunter replies flatly.
Omega smiles at you, wide and unguarded. “I’m glad you’re warmer now.”
“Me too,” you say, meaning more than she knows.
Tech finally straightens, tapping his datapad. “The anomaly appears to be non-hostile. Likely a natural energy fluctuation beneath the ice. No further action required.”
Wrecker throws his arms up. “Yes! That means we can head back, right? Somewhere less… breezy?”
Hunter nods. “We’ll regroup and head to the ship.”
As the team starts moving, Echo gently steers Omega ahead, murmuring something to her that makes her giggle. Wrecker claps Tech on the shoulder and launches into a story about an old mission when he built a snow fort twice this size, leaving the two of you momentarily behind.
Hunter waits until the others are a few steps ahead before speaking again. “You okay to keep moving?” he asks.
You nod, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah. Especially now.”
He glances at you, just for a second, and something like relief flickers across his face. Then he turns forward, falling into step beside you as naturally as if that’s where he’s always meant to be. This time, when your shoulder brushes his, neither of you moves away.
The Marauder comes into view through the drifting snow, dark and solid against the white landscape. Relief settles into you the moment you see it, tension easing from your shoulders now that the patrol is truly over. The ramp lowers with a familiar mechanical whine, warm air spilling out in a way that feels almost decadent after hours in the cold.
Wrecker is the first one up the ramp, stomping snow from his boots as he goes. “I’m telling you, that place could’ve used a hot caf stand,” he says loudly. “Or at least a heater the size of a speeder.”
Echo follows close behind with Omega, helping her shrug out of her outer layer once they’re inside. She chatters happily about the snow, about how the wind sounded like it was singing, about how she wants to come back someday when it isn’t trying to freeze everyone in place.
Tech pauses just inside the ship, already engrossed in his datapad. “I will be recommending additional thermal insulation upgrades,” he mutters. “The data gathered today suggests a non-negligible risk—”
“Noted,” Hunter says, cutting in gently. “We’ll look at it later.”
You linger at the base of the ramp for a moment, brushing snow from your sleeves and flexing your fingers one last time. They move easily now, warmth fully restored, though the memory of the cold still lingers in your bones.
Hunter waits. He stands just inside the ship, one hand resting against the frame of the doorway, watching you with that same quiet attentiveness he’s carried all day. When you step inside, the temperature shift makes you sigh despite yourself. “Better?” he asks.
You nod, smiling. “Much.”
Omega looks over from where she’s settled into one of the seats, already halfway wrapped in a blanket. Her eyes light up. “You should sit here,” she says, patting the spot beside her. Then she glances at Hunter, grin widening. “There’s room for both of you.”
Echo gives Hunter a sideways look that’s far too knowing for comfort. “She’s not wrong.”
Hunter opens his mouth to object, then closes it again when Omega’s hopeful expression meets his. He exhales, defeated. “Alright.”
You settle into the seat, warmth seeping into you from all sides now. Hunter sits beside you, close enough that your arms brush, close enough that you can feel the steady heat of him even through layers of gear.
Wrecker plops down across from you, boots up on a crate. “See? Told you we’d survive,” he says cheerfully. “Barely.”
Tech doesn’t look up. “Survival was never in question.”
As the ramp lifts and the engines rumble to life, the Marauder shudders slightly beneath you. Snow disappears from view as the ship rises, leaving the frozen world behind.
Hunter reaches into one of the storage compartments near the seats and pulls out a small thermal pack. He hesitates for half a second, then hands it to you. “Just in case,” he says.
You take it, fingers brushing his. “Thanks.”
He doesn’t pull his hand away right away. Instead, he shifts, angling himself so his shoulder presses more firmly against yours, offering quiet warmth without a word. Omega watches the exchange with a pleased little smile before leaning back against Echo’s side, content.
The ship settles into its steady hum, lights dimming to their usual glow. Outside, the cold planet fades into the distance, but inside the Marauder, it’s warm. Steady. Safe.
You let your head rest back against the seat, exhaling slowly, and Hunter stays exactly where he is. Neither of you says anything.
Author’s note: when I say obsession here, I don’t mean in a creepy stalker way, I mean in the Gomez Addams kind of way because that is absolutely the type of lover Hunter would be, and no, you cannot convince me otherwise
Author’s note 2: I actually proofread this one but it’s entirely possible I still missed something, oops
Word count: 542
Warnings: m!masturbation, body worship (is this even a warning?), Crosshair being the little shit (affectionate) of a younger brother we all know he is, facesitting, oral (f!receiving), hair pulling, unprotected piv sex (wrap it up y’all), creampie, Hunter being an absolute sweetheart
@dindjarindiaries I feel like you might like this (if not, no worries!)
(also this GIF just Does Things to me)
-When he first meets you, he cannot get his eyes off you
-Tries to be polite and respectful, but can’t stop staring at your ass, your tits, your stomach, your hips, your thighs… literally anything squishy takes hold of his mind and will not let go
-Always wants to be near you, smelling you, touching you
-He wants to be surrounded by you and you only
-Definitely has wet dreams about you
-And wakes up with a massive hard-on
-Something Hunter will never willingly admit to anyone is that there are times when he’ll just be so intoxicated by you that he has to sneak off and rub one out because it’s the only way to calm himself down
-Crosshair caught wind of it happening one time and will not stop teasing Hunter about it
-One time Crosshair almost “let it slip” in a conversation with you… which is how he ended up with a black eye and a couple of bruised ribs
-When you finally have sex for the first time, he takes his time and shows love to every single inch of your body
-He wants you to know just how much you and your beautiful body consumes his every waking thought
-Can and will beg you to let him eat you out
-Once Hunter’s face is between your thighs he is not leaving
-Wraps his arms around them and presses his entire face into your pussy
-Eats you out like you’re the only food source and he hasn’t eaten in days (he just ate a couple of hours ago, he’s fine… but he doesn’t know that)
-Pulling his hair while he eats you out will only spur him on even more, too
-👏 SIT 👏 ON 👏 HIS 👏 FACE
-And none of that hovering shit, either
-He’ll lay back, pull you down onto him and go absolutely insane in the best way possible
-All the while he’s thrusting up into nothing because eating you out turns him on so much
-Has definitely came without being touched solely due to getting so turned on from eating your pussy
-👏 OXYGEN 👏 IS 👏 OPTIONAL
-When you come, he keeps eating and will continue unless and until you pull his head away from you
-But will definitely ask for more
-“Please, mesh’la? Give me another one? You look so pretty when you come on my face”
-And when he does finally pull away, the scent and feeling of your arousal covering his face gets him hard all over again
-When he finally slides into you, he buries his face into your neck and moans out the sexiest “oh, fuck” you’ve ever heard
-Does his best to make sex as pleasurable for you as absolutely possible
-But might not last super long
-Being buried deep inside you, feeling the softness of your body underneath his hands, smelling the scent of you still on his face,,,
-And yeah, if you ask him to, he’ll pull out, but will lose it if you let him come inside you
-After sex, all he wants to do is wrap his arms around you and cuddle because all he wants in that moment (and a lot of other moments, let’s be completely honest here) is you
•••
Thanks for reading! If you liked this, please make sure to reblog. 💚
And why not check out my masterlist while you’re at it?
Notes: Hunter's senses. That's it, that's the story. No warnings, established relationship, domestic Hunter and Reader Tech and Crosshair are the youngest and it shows.
"Hey sweetheart, do you know where my jacket is?" Hunter asked.
"Oh!" You pushed your hair back, "It's hanging up by the door. Mine were all in the wash, so I used it when I went to get the supplies for dinner. I'm sorry, I should have asked you."
"That's fine," Hunter said quickly.
Tech looked up from chopping vegetables, for all his exceptional brilliance looking absolutely bewildered "The last time Crosshair used your jacket without asking you used your knife to-"
Hunter nudged him--perhaps a bit too harshly--as he hurried to the door to grab said jacket. The affection the two of you had for each other was no secret, but his brothers still tried to tease him about it from time to time.
"Wrecker's bringing the skiff in, I'm going to help..." His voice trailed off as he got one arm in the sleeve. He brought the collar to his nose, sniffing at it delicately like a moon-yo inspecting a piece of fruit.
"Everything okay?" You asked nervously. Had you spilled something on his jacket without noticing?
"Yeah, everything's fine. Hunter said, feet shuffling as he hurriedly pulled on the jacket. "Be back later."
The door slammed shut, certainly much louder than he'd intended. But you brushed it off, and helped Shep with the rest of dinner.
When Hunter returned with Wrecker, he was quiet. Wrecker carried conversation easily, telling Omega about all the different ocean creatures he'd seen. Hunter's silence might have gone undetected if you hadn't noticed his facial expressions. Even if he didn't have much to say, he was usually paying attention, laughing at his brother's jokes or smiling, nodding attentively at Omega and following the conversation. But tonight his mind was on something else. He stared down at his hands as he helped wrap the sushi rolls, moving from task to task as if in a daze. Even while you ate, he kept his eyes on his own plate, moving slowly. He hadn't even taken off the jacket.
This slow, distracted attitude continued as you helped him wash the dishes afterward.
"Credit for your thoughts?" You asked.
"Hm? Oh, sorry. My mind was...elsewhere." He mumbled a lame excuse.
"I can see that," You teased.
He chuckled, but his smile didn't stretch. You frowned in frustration.
"Are you feeling alright?" You asked,
"Yeah, 'm alright."
You didn't believe him, but you wiped down the last plate with a hand-woven towel and stacked it with the others.
Hunter stood with his shoulders hunched, hands gripping the edge of the empty sink.
"Hunter," You reached out and grabbed his shoulder. "You know you can talk to me, right? I'm here for you.
Hunter stared down at your hand, tense like your fingers might grow fangs and chop his head off. Slowly, with fingers still covered in soapy suds, he raised his hand and traced your fingers with his own. It was your turn to pause, watching carefully as if he were a startled prey animal.
"Your hands are soft," He whispered. This wasn't something new. You'd held hands with him before, had him comment about how soft your hands were. But something felt different about the way he looked at you this time.
You nodded stupidly, "Lotion."
Well duh, that was obvious.
"Meiloorun scented?" He asked. He dragged his middle finger over the knuckle of your thumb.
Your lips parted as your breath caught in your throat.
"Y-yeah...how could you tell?"
You could see him chewing on his bottom lip.
"It's the same scent you left on my jacket."
Shame coarsed through your bloodstream, burning hot from the tips of your ears down to the soles of your cheeks.
"I am so sorry, I-I didn't mean to-"
"Don't," His voice was gentle but firm. He lay his hand over yours as he turned to face you.
"Sweetheart," Hunter said, voice low and soft, "You can wear my clothes any time you want. They smell so good after you wear them."
An entirely different kind of heat raced through you.
"Hunter," You gasped.
He lowered his chin, just enough so that his lips brushed against your fingertips. Then he gently lifted your hand from his shoulder, moving it out of the way so that he could pull you in for a kiss. It was very brief. He didn't really want to kiss you, that was just an excuse to get you close enough to bury his face in your shoulder, breathing deeply.
"Should I get you some meiloorun lotion too?" you laughed softly, resting your hands in his hair.
"It's not the lotion," Hunter mumbled with his hands around your waist, "It's you."
"Well, good news for you. You're stuck with me."
"Good." Hunter kissed up the side of your neck, and the tickle of his stubble made you squeal, kicking up your feet as Hunter lifted you and spun you around.
"The dishes better be done!" Crosshair called from his room.
Hunter muttered some choice words under his breath, but you shook your head and kissed him again. Hunter forgot about his brothers, sitting you on the counter to let his hands roam free, up and down your back and over your legs.
He sighed contentedly, his nose brushing against your jaw as you both caught your breath.
"You think you could wear a couple of my shirts? Like, to sleep in?" he whispered.
You laughed, head spinning from all the kisses, "You really like how I smell that much?"
"Sweetheart," Hunter kissed your throat once more, "I love every part of you."
Warnings: Possible PTSD , Mentions of Torture, Nightmares, Angst, Smut
Summary: The fighting is done. After your squad returns to Pabu from your risky rescue mission on Tantiss, you begin to settle into your new life. However, you are still haunted by the events that almost took your family away from you. Thankfully, your beloved sergeant is always there to lend a helping hand in any way that you need him.
Tags: Post Season 3 Finale, Female Reader, Established Relationship, Mentions of Tantiss, PTSD, Nightmares, Smut, PIV, Porn with Feelings, Love, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I just want Hunter to hold me okay.
You gasped as you shot up from the mattress, eyes wildly darting around the dark room. The only sound that you heard at first was you hyperventilating as you fought to catch your breath. You tried to swallow, but your mouth was so dry that you felt nothing go down your throat. Shaky hands clenched and unclenched the sheets, clinging desperately to something, anything to try to tether you back to your current reality.
You could make out the walls of what you knew to be your bedroom, the bed and sparse furnishings bathed in shades of dark blue and gray. There was a window to your right where a few faint streaks of light from the surrounding homes dared to cut through the darkness. However the brightest light of all was that of the moon. You could almost make out the way that it glared off of the ocean below.
If you concentrated you could hear the gentle lapping of the waves as they met the shoreline and surrounding docks. Your mind tried to focus on it, though in that moment it wasn't louder than the buzzing of your thoughts that had jolted you from your slumber.
Your hands slid up the sheets to grasp onto your knees. It was all still so real; the heat of the flames from the explosions. The crisp sound of blasterfire cutting through the air. The hollow thunk of your boots hitting durasteel. The comm chatter of the stormtroopers as they flitted around you. If you closed your eyes you could still see it clear as day; your last stand as a squad. The assault on Tantiss that had given you your family back. No matter how many weeks had passed, or how often you had assured one another that your fight was finally over; it never felt like it truly was.
It was all too easy in the quiet of night for your subconscious to replay those harrowing moments. Your dreams were haunted by flashes of images of Hemlock and his men. The way that the doctor's cold voice had assured you that you would either join him or die resisting before signaling for more shocks to be administered to your heads. Sometimes while you tried desperately to sleep you would still recall the burning pain, and the way that the metal cuffs cut into the skin of your wrists as you writhed and screamed.
A shifting of the sheets beside you snapped you away from your spiraling. You couldn't help the way that you startled as you felt an arm sliding around you. A large hand settled on your bicep, urging you to lean back. There was a quiet murmur of your name as you felt yourself still shivering against his hold.
"It's just me cyare, I'm here."
Hunter's voice was thick with sleep, no doubt having startled awake right along with you. A twinge of guilt made your heart clench tighter in your chest.
"I'm... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." You choked the words out, your voice sounding so small, and more scared than you intended.
Hunter shushed you quietly as he drew you closer. Your back pressed against his chest as his strong arms wound around your waist. He tucked his face into your hair near your right ear, taking a slow inhale of the scent of your shampoo still lingering there.
"Can you match your breathing to mine?" The question was spoken softly, words puffing against the outer shell of your ear. You closed your eyes and filled your lungs before slowly letting the air out, trying your best to slow down the rhythm to match Hunter's. The rise and fall of his chest against your back served as a metronome. Before you knew it, it was all that you were focused on. In and out. In and out.
"Good," he praised quietly. "Can you hear my heart beating?"
Once your breaths had slowed down you found that you could hear it; the gentle thumping of his heart. It was steady and measured, a predictable pattern to follow.
"Yes," you sighed, allowing yourself to lean further against him. One of Hunter's hands left your waist so that he could run his fingers through your hair, brushing it away from your shoulder. He pressed a kiss to the now bare skin at the side of your neck.
"Very good," he replied. "What about the waves outside? Can you hear them?"
Your attention once again was drawn to the sea surrounding Pabu. The water was moving slowly, pushing and pulling as the moon directed the tides. You could hear its gentle rocking as it moved the fishing skiffs tethered near the beach.
"Yeah, I can hear it moving the boats." He hummed in acknowledgment.
"Atta girl."
You couldn't resist the shudder that went down your spine. Even when coming down from a nightmare, you weren't immune to the effect of Hunter's smokey voice whispering praise into your ear. You felt his lips twitch into a small smile as he pressed his cheek against your shoulder.
"Did you want to talk about it?" You heaved another sigh as your eyes fluttered open, staring through the window to take in the glittering stars in the sky.
"I've...still been having dreams about Tantiss" you murmured, the name of the planet tasting sour on your tongue.
"I know it's over...that we're all safe now...but somewhere inside of me it still feels like it's not over."
Both of Hunter's hands moved back down to your waist as he urged you to turn so that you were facing him once again. The light of the moon outlined the side of his face and the way that his long hair was ruffled from where he'd slept on it. His eyes glistened like the stars overhead as his gaze locked onto yours, the expression that he wore was warm and unwavering.
"We've been through a lot, cyare. Our life since the end of the war has all led to this, to Tantiss. You can't fight as long as we all have and have it end without side effects. It just means that you're human, that it means something to you."
Hunter's fingers gently tucked a stray piece of your hair behind your ear before sweeping downward to take hold of your chin.
"We'll all need time to adjust, but we're free to go at our own pace. And I'll be here for you every step of the way. I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you. We're in this, together, for the long run."
You let out a breath as tears began to gather at your lash line. You gave him a watery smile, hands moving to his chest.
"You always know the right things to say."
"Between you and Omega, I've had my fair share of practice," he explained as the hand that wasn't holding your chin drew absentminded patterns along your back.
"And I'll have even more now that we are all together. Just imagine how good these pep talks will be in a few years." You snorted at that, sliding your hands up over his shoulders to wind around his neck.
"It's definitely not fair, you already know me so well. If you decide to start using your powers for more nefarious purposes, I'm in trouble."
Hunter huffed a laugh. He tilted your face upward as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke his next words.
"I think you'll like any... nefarious purposes that I could have in mind for you, cyare."
You grinned as you twirled the ends of his hair around your fingers.
"Care to prove it?"
Without a moment's hesitation his lips melded against yours in a passionate kiss. His tongue slid easily into your mouth as the stubble along his jawline brushed against your skin. A small moan bubbled its way up your throat as you held onto his shoulders, grounding yourself both in the present moment and in him.
The sheets fell away as you clambered into his lap, your thighs straddling hips. The new position placed you above him, so you gently tugged the ends of his hair to tilt his face up toward yours.
Hunter groaned as his eyes fluttered open. The moon cast enough light into the room to make out his face. His lips were parted and his chest rose and fell quicker as he tried to catch his breath. He swallowed thickly as he stared up at you with an almost reverent look in his eyes.
"Kriff cyare," he cursed softly. Your brow furrowed in confusion.
"What is it?"
One of his hands rose to tuck your hair back behind your ear. The movement was slow and deliberate, almost as if he was afraid that if he moved too abrubtly that you would disappear.
"You're so beautiful."
A soft smile curled at your lips as you placed your hand over his where it rested on the side of your face.
"Please," you whispered.
The cool night air hitting your skin drew you in closer. You wanted to be wrapped in him, completely consumed by the feel of his body against yours. Ever so slowly, you slid his hand downward, guiding it over your neck and collarbones to rest on your breast.
"I need you to touch me, please."
Hunter's eyes darted between your face and where his palm was now resting against the swell of your breast. He absentmindedly licked his lips as you felt the calloused pads of his fingers sliding across your chest. They brushed against your nipple, pinching and rolling the peak between his thumb and index finger. You caught his stare as you gasped. There was something affectionate but heated behind his eyes as they locked onto yours, clearly watching your reaction with undivided attention. He let out a sigh as he seemed to get the response that he wanted.
"Anything for you."
Quickly, before you could fully process what was happening, he flipped you over. With the practiced ease of both a soldier and a lover who had done similar motions many times over, he pressed you into the mattress before slotting himself between your legs. Immediately you felt him, half hard against your inner thigh. His lips pressed against your forehead, pausing for a moment as he stared down at you, your faces semi hidden in shadows and darkness.
"Are you sure cyare? If it's too much, at any point, you know you can tell me."
Your heart swelled with affection once again for your strong, passionate protector.
"Im sure," you confirmed. "Unless you're too tired... we could always wait until morning."
A dark chuckle from above halted that train of thought as quickly as it had begun.
"Sweetheart," he addressed you, his voice dropping an octave as he leaned down. He took hold of your wrists in one of his hands before moving to pin them in the pillows above your head.
"You could wake me from the dead for this."
His lips descended upon your jawline, and then your neck, pressing opened mouth kisses to the soft skin before running his tongue across your pulse point. You gasped and whined, a pathetic sound that bubbled up from your throat almost against your will.
"I would have you like this, underneath me, squirming for my attention until dawn if you let me."
A shudder shook your frame as you arched your back. Hunter had begun to lave your chest in attention, taking one of your nipples in his mouth and swirling his tongue around it. His other hand was braced on your outer thigh, trying in vain to keep you steady. Your hips had already begun to flex upward toward his in a desperate search for friction.
When his tip caught against your clit you both groaned. Hunter's lips moved back up to capture yours in a searing kiss, licking into your mouth and making your eyes roll back in your head. He ground hips against yours again, if only to hear the sounds that you made when his hardness slid easily through your folds. His hand had a bruising grip on the back of your thigh, no doubt leaving marks that would still be there come morning.
"Hunter," you gasped, managing to break away from the kiss.
"Need you.."
He peppered kisses along your jawline like he was a man possessed, like he couldn't take his lips away from your skin even if he tried.
"You have me, sweetheart." He whispered, hot breath puffing against your neck.
"Tell me what you need."
You whined and arched against him, still unable to move effectively with the way he was pinning your hands and hips to the bed.
"Need you...inside me, please."
He lifted his head just enough to look into your eyes. The moonlight from the window highlighted the tattooed side of his face. His hair fell forward, free from his bandana, which sat unused on his side table. Even in the dark, you could make out the warmth in his eyes, the desire and the longing. It made you wonder how this beautiful man could possibly be yours.
Hunter pressed one more chaste kiss to your lips before lining up with your entrance. You squirmed against where his hand still held onto your wrists, trying to convince him to release his hold so you could reach out and touch him. However he only shushed you before pressing another kiss to your forehead. It was an uncharacteristically sweet gesture given the heat of the moment.
"Just relax, cyare." He purred, rubbing affectionate circles into your hip.
"Let me take care of you the way you deserve tonight, and then tomorrow you can have me anyway you please."
Any retort that you had died on your tongue. You could only nod, staring wide-eyed up at him. He smirked a devilishly handsome smirk before snapping his hips forward, filling you in one smooth motion.
Your breath caught as you stretched to accommodate him. It didn't matter how many times that you'd been with Hunter, the moment that he was inside of you still took your breath away.
Hunter let out a long groan, his head dropping forward as he took a moment to just feel you.
"Fuck sweetheart, you feel so good."
You could only whine in response, trying desperately to flex your hips to meet him. He received your message loud and clear as he moved back out of you and then drove forward, punching another gasp from your lips.
He began to set a steady pace, bottoming out as he pressed himself deep inside of you. With the way he was holding you, you had no choice but to just take it. The feeling of being so in control but also completely out of control was intoxicating. Hunter was firmly in the driver's seat of your pleasure, giving you both exactly what you needed.
His hips dropped as he angled himself upward, seeking out the soft spot inside you that he knew was there.
"Hunter!" You cried his name to the ceiling of your bedroom.
"Ah, there it is."
His tone was all too calm and smug for how good he was fucking you. The confidence dripping from his voice like honey made your brain short circuit and only further stoked the fire building in your gut.
You were panting now, chest heaving with the effort as you hurtled closer and closer to your end. The pleasure was licking up your spine as a pleasant warmth spread throughout your entire body. You were getting so close, but you needed just a bit more to push you over the edge.
"Hunter...I..."
You barely had the words out before Hunter's hand that had been holding onto your hip moved between your bodies to your center. His thumb began rubbing quick steady circles to your clit in the rhythm that he knew you liked. You moaned, maybe too loudly, at the contact and Hunter softly shushed you once more.
"I've got you sweetheart," he reassured you, so tender and sweet. "Go ahead and let go for me, I'm right behind you."
You didn't need anything more as your orgasm ripped through you. Your eyes squeezed shut as time seemed to stand still. All that you knew was you and Hunter, and the pleasure blooming through your body. Hunter continued to fuck you through it, praising your name into your neck. It wasn't long before his hips stuttered and you felt him spill within you, biting down onto your shoulder as he slowly rolled his hips.
There wasn't any immediate need to move as you both lay there, breathing each other in as the unique closeness of post-orgasmic bliss began to settle in.
Eventually, Hunter slipped out of you and released your wrists before padding off to your adjoining bathroom. He returned with a damp cloth, using it to delicately clean the mess between your legs before discarding it into your laundry to deal with later.
He climbed back into bed, pulling the sheets back over your bodies. His hands went to your hips, gently guiding you so that your back was against his chest. His strong arms wound around you as he cuddled you close.
"You okay?" Hunter asked, finally breaking the silence.
You sighed happily, turning to kiss his inner arm.
"I don't think I could be better if I tried."
He huffed softly as his fingers drifted to the skin of your wrists.
"I didn't hurt you did I?"
"No," you assured. "And even if you did, I liked it."
Hunter hummed quietly as he kissed the top of your head.
"Still, I think we have some bacta patches lying around somewhere if it leaves a mark."
You shrugged your shoulders as much as you could wrapped in his embrace.
"It's okay, I think I'd like to hang onto any reminders of tonight as long as possible."
Hunter snorted at that.
"Insatiable," he mumbled, burying his nose into your neck.
You laughed quietly into the darkness.
"Maybe, but you're the one who said I could have you anyway that I pleased tomorrow."
"And I meant it too, so you better get some rest."
A small smile pulled at the corners of your lips as you closed your eyes and settled into the pillows. The sound of the waves outside and his steady breathing were quickly lulling you to sleep. Just before you drifted off, you brought the back of one of Hunter's hands to your mouth, ghosting a featherlight kiss over his knuckles.
"I love you."
Hunter let out a contented sigh from behind you as he squeezed your hand in return.
11, 16, and/or 17 for Hunter!!! (17 is just kinda funny and we need a little lightheartedness before you inevitably twist the knife)
Paying The Price
character: Hunter (The Bad Batch)
prompts: "I’m going to lift you up, okay? Tell me if it hurts." / "Gods, I'm so sorry, it'll be over soon, I promise." / "How many fingers am I holding up? ... I don't have six fingers." (@promptsbytaurie)
warnings: injuries, needles
main masterlist • hunter masterlist
The silence was grating on your fragile nerves. You readjusted your grasp on your blaster once again, making your fingers ache just as much as your knees that were still positioned in a crouch on a suspended branch. You weren't too high off the ground, but you were up far enough to get a good lay of the land.
Hunter and Wrecker were still out of sight. You glanced at the gate of the small outpost they had infiltrated and grit your teeth. You were still of the belief that this mission needed at least one more person, but Hunter had, as usual these days, insisted that you go before Echo and Rex could make the rendezvous.
You didn't blame him. You'd had enough late night conversations with him to understand why he was pushing so hard. But that didn't make it the right call—and the fact he wouldn't even listen to your pleas on this particular mission made it all the more concerning.
Something rustled behind you, and turned fast enough to risk wobbling where you crouched. You steadied yourself with a hand on the trunk of the tree you had climbed and lifted your scope attachment to look for a heat source, but you saw nothing.
You let out a curt sigh. You definitely weren't Crosshair, that was for sure.
Then again, Hunter and Wrecker weren't Tech and Echo, and the data pull was taking a lot longer than it should have. You lifted your comm to your lips and activated it. "How's it going in there?"
"Hunter's almost done." Wrecker's voice was successfully quiet as he offered his response. "Be careful, though. Their guard rotation is comin' up, and..."
"Yeah, yeah, I've got an eye on it." You lifted the scope and glanced at the gate. It was still clear of guards for now, but their window was closing rapidly. "You guys have to keep watching the chrono, too. Time's about to be up."
"We are. We've still got..."
"Done." The sound of Hunter's voice alone made your tightened chest relax with a familiar amount of ease. "We're heading out now. Hold your position."
"Sure thing, Sarge." You hummed and set the comm back on your belt, willing the rest of your unease away as you focused on the gate again.
That was when you saw it, a flash of the guards' mismatched uniforms as they marched towards the gate. Your breath caught in your throat as you grasped your blaster tighter.
And this was why you needed at least four people. Alone, you had little to no chance against them, and thus no good way to help Hunter and Wrecker get out. If there had been someone else, you could have been a distraction together, and posed at least somewhat of a threat.
You lifted your comm back to your lips. "A set of guards just positioned themselves outside the gate. Unless you have another way out of there, you're gonna have to give me a minute to distract them."
"How? They shouldn't..." Hunter trailed off as he fully absorbed your words. "No. Hold your position. We'll find another way around them, it's too dangerous—."
"We all know there isn't another way." You were hissing now as you started to descend the tree. "I've got this. Just be ready to fight when you get out here."
"I don't like this."
You huffed. "Yeah, well, this is why we need more than three people, Hunter."
Your words were harsh, yet truthful. Hunter was slipping in his desperation to get intel on Omega's whereabouts, and as much as you shared that same, aching feeling, you had to get him to understand that. Finding Omega would be worthless if there wasn't anyone for her to come back to.
Hunter's silence spoke for him as you put your comm away again and trotted into the greenery that led closer to the outpost's perimeter. Once you were closer, you knelt down amongst the flora on either side of you and lifted your blaster.
Looking through the scope attachment, you further analyzed the situation. There were about six guards in this particular part of the area, which was two for each of you, but you had no idea what their fighting capability was. It could either be easy or the most difficult fight you'd had in a long time.
You sighed. There wasn't any time to waste debating it. You had to act now, or else Hunter and Wrecker would each have three guards to worry about before reinforcements came pouring in.
With just a single ounce of hesitation, you aimed at a target and brushed your finger along your trigger. The weight of what you were about to do laid upon your shoulders, but you could live with it. This wasn't the first time.
You fired.
Pandemonium broke out the second the guard went down. They all turned in your direction, shouting things before volleys of blaster bolts started flying in your direction.
You swore and ducked further, retreating into the greenery behind you before managing to lift your blaster and get a few more shots off. Even in the madness, you somehow took another guard down, and that was all it took.
They left a single guard behind and sent the rest after you.
Cursing again, you turned and sprinted further into the forest. There were pounding footsteps getting closer and closer behind you, but those weren't nearly as intimidating as the blaster shots you had to keep dodging.
You freed the comm from your belt and all but yelled into it. "Some backup would be nice if you could speed it up!"
"We're on our way!" Hunter rarely ever sounded breathless, but he did now, as if he was pushing himself harder than ever before. "Just keep evading them!"
You couldn't spare any looks back at them. At a certain point, you also didn't have anywhere else to run to. You had to stop and dive to the side, using a boulder for cover as you fired off some more retaliatory shots.
You managed to get another guard, but that still left you with two pursuers. They raised their blasters, and you ducked fully behind the boulder as it was barraged with endless shots. The burning smell of plasma filled your nostrils as you searched for more cover.
There. A large tree with a trunk wide enough to disguise you was just a quick leap away, if you could bridge the gap over to it without being shot. You inhaled a determined breath and zeroed in on it.
It would be easier if you had cover fire from someone else, but it would have to do. You were more than capable of making it.
With that thought in mind, you stood back to your full height and sprinted out from behind the boulder, firing shots to provide your own cover. You somehow took down one of the two guards, leaving you with a victorious thrill as you prepared to finish diving behind the tree trunk.
You were nearly there when the blaster bolt hit you.
The force of it knocked you back onto the ground, the pain of the shot mixed with the impact of the hard dirt forcing a cry from your lungs. You attempted to regain your breath and breathe through the waves of burning pain in your shoulder as the shadow of the guard loomed closer.
The world around you was already going fuzzy from the shock, pain, and adrenaline, but you could still hear the guard speaking to someone. "Yeah, I've got 'em. They took out the others, but I've—."
They were cut off by the sound of another blaster shot, and given that you soon heard a body tumbling to the ground, you assumed that the others had arrived.
"No, no, no, no..."
Hunter fell into the dirt at your side, his helmet also hitting the ground as he all but tore it off. His wide, fearful eyes gave you a panicked once-over as one hand reached for the side of your face and the other pressed gingerly near your wound. You winced before you could stop it.
"Kriff. I... I told you not to..."
Hunter shook his head, as if silently chastising himself, and refocused.
"We've gotta' get you out of here." Hunter nodded, his worried eyes flitting between yours before he brushed his thumb over your cheek. "I’m going to lift you up, okay? Tell me if it hurts."
Hunter clipped his helmet to his belt before he positioned one arm under your back and the other underneath your knees. He rose slowly, and as your injured shoulder knocked against his, you let out a pitiful cry of pain.
"I'm sorry." Hunter's voice was a broken rasp as he readjusted you enough to mind your bleeding blaster shot. "There. Better?"
You let out a huff that answered for you: That's as good as it's gonna get. Hunter seemed to understand this, as he started to move forward through the trees. You held a breath and tried to look over his shoulder.
"Wreck..."
"He's powering up the ship. He's fine." If Hunter had been breathless before, then he was almost completely out of air now, his widened gaze constantly circulating between you and the way ahead. "I thought I'd have enough time to get to you myself before..."
You wanted to console him, but you couldn't, and not just because the waves of agony were hitting harder as the shock wore off. It wasn't Hunter's fault directly—and you would never blame him—but it was true that his refusal to wait for the others had made this unfortunate scenario possible.
But Hunter was tormenting himself badly enough as it was. He didn't need you to add fuel to his self-deprecating fire.
Your eyelids began to flutter involuntarily as the throbbing pain of your wound grew in intensity. Hunter was quick to notice, no doubt also picking up on your slowing heartbeat as he shook his head.
"No, no, no. Hey." Hunter gave you a light shake, enough to jolt you without hurting your wound any further. "Stay awake. Okay? That's all you have to do right now." He nodded down at you. "Keep your eyes on me. We're almost back to the ship."
You swallowed thickly and did your best to obey his order. Your gaze traced the lines of his tattoo and every sharp angle on his face, though many of them were pulled taut into lines of stress and worry as he closed the distance to the Marauder. It wasn't long before you could hear her engines humming, and Hunter took the steps two at a time to get you inside.
"Wha' hap—."
"Get us out of here." Hunter's words were biting enough to make Wrecker's jaw snap shut as he continued on towards the hold. "Now."
There was no room for argument. You could hear the hatch whirring as it closed just before the ship jolted up from the ground.
Hunter eased you down onto one of the lower bunks and stepped away to reach for the medkit. He knelt back down at your side and held your face between his hands.
"Hey. Still with me?"
You blinked and managed a nod.
"Good." Hunter lifted a hand from your face and held up three fingers. "How many fingers am I holding up?"
You fought the urge to roll your eyes even as you let your sarcasm flow. "Six."
Hunter froze, his brow pinching in further concern as he blinked down at you. "I don't have six fingers."
You huffed. "'Xactly."
Another wave of pain overcame you, and you let out a groan as you squeezed your eyes shut and let your head loll to the side.
"Kriff, Hunter, it hurts."
"I know." Hunter's voice was shaking nearly as much as his carefully practiced fingers as he dug through the medkit. "I'll get you a hypo first, take the edge off, and then you're just gonna have to bear with me, okay?"
You gritted your teeth and forced another nod. Hunter's rummaging continued, but when it stopped, you pried your eyelids open again. His handsome face was worn and cast in grim shadow as he lowered the hypo to your neck.
The pain of the shot was temporary, and it was certainly worth the cool rush that took away some of the blistering heat from your wound. You let out a gentle sigh of relief that only eased Hunter somewhat as he continued his treatment.
He removed your outermost layers and took a pair of shears to the collar of your tunic to cut his way to your wound. Once that was done, he let out a concerned breath and reached for something else inside the medkit.
"This is gonna be the worst of it." Hunter lifted a disposable sterilizing cloth with an apologetic glint in his eye. "I'm sorry, but... I'll make it quick."
That was all the warning you got. He pressed the cloth against your wound, and despite the hypo numbing it as much as possible, you could still feel every single prickling point of contact.
You gasped and reached out for him with your free hand, squeezing your eyes shut as the pain tore through you like a wildfire.
"I know, I know." Hunter let you take one of his hands as the other kept cleaning the wound. You squeezed it tight as his trembling voice lowered even more. "Gods, I'm so sorry. It'll be over soon, I promise."
If the pain of this process wasn't enough to overwhelm you, the strain of his words certainly was. It was almost as if Hunter was sharing in your agony, and you had no doubt he was sporting an internal wound just as serious as the one you bore on your physical body.
That, mixed with everything else Hunter was carrying inside him, made for something dangerous that you knew you had to resolve.
Once Hunter had finished and you were able to breathe again, you opened your eyes and watched him. He was suppressing his panic and distress as best as he could, but you saw through the cracks in his composure. His jaw was tight, and he kept blinking in rapid succession, as if fighting away his emotions.
You cleared your throat quietly and dared to speak. "Hunter..."
He froze, offering you his devout attention as his gaze gave you a quick scan. When he realized it wasn't an urgent need, he glanced away from your stare and refocused on the task at hand, which involved securing a bacta patch on your shoulder.
"Hunter."
"No. Don't do that."
Hunter smoothed out the patch and shook his head, his jaw tightening even more as he reached for a fresh wrap. You frowned as he went on.
"Don't give me your sympathy." He began to wrap the material around you a bit harder than he was likely intending to in his self-directed rage, but as soon as you let a quiet whimper escape you, he slowed his actions and softened them. "Especially not when you were the one who warned me not to do this in the first place."
You sighed. "Well, it happened. Can't change that now." You gave the hand you were still holding a squeeze. "But you can change what happens going forward."
"Yeah." Hunter let out a frustrated huff and cut his gaze towards you. "After I've already made you pay the price."
"Good."
Hunter looked scandalized by your response as he finished securing the wrap. His eyes widened, and he withdrew his hand from yours as he put the supplies away. You let out another sigh as your brow rose at him.
"If it hadn't been me, you wouldn't have learned your lesson."
You lifted your hand to the side of Hunter's face just as he finished packing up the medkit. His guilty gaze eventually made its way to yours, his lips pressed in a firm line as he continued to contain his emotions. You let your thumb run over his cheek.
"I'm worried about her, too. We all are. And we'll do whatever it takes to get her back." You gave your head a shake. "But we still have to be smart about it. If we run ourselves into the ground... she won't have anyone to come back to."
The guilt in Hunter's amber eyes increased tenfold as it lowered to your wound. He circled his jaw and shook his head, the guilt mounting into anger and grief all at once.
"You could've died." It sounded as if it physically pained Hunter to say the words. "I almost got you killed."
You frowned. "Hunter..."
"No." Hunter's hand wrapped around your wrist. "Don't let me shy away from the truth. My call almost got you killed."
You lifted a single finger on your injured side the best you could, emulating someone whose presence you missed all the time, but especially now. "Technically, it was my call, because you told me to hold my position and I disobeyed."
Hunter couldn't find the humor in it, not right now. He closed his eyes, and his brow furrowed as if he was in pain.
"I already lost Tech and Omega. If I had lost you..."
He didn't go on. He couldn't. You grimaced and lowered your hand closer to the side of his neck, where you gently swept at his hair to soothe him.
"It won't ever be that easy." You let out a hum as you gently eased him closer to you, until his forehead was resting against your own. "The galaxy can try all it wants, but you're stuck with me for the long run."
Hunter let out a soft, relieved exhale before he reopened his eyes. At least a million different emotions flashed through them all at once, but as they flitted between yours, there was only one he intended on focusing on. His voice was as light as air as he spoke.
"I'm sorry."
Your tone matched his own. "I know. It's okay." You attempted a small smile as you brushed your thumb over his skin again. "You know what would make me feel better?"
Hunter huffed, and the corners of his lips rose just like your own as his nose brushed yours. He kissed you tenderly, a gesture that said so much more than any words ever could, but kept it fairly brief as he pulled away and gazed upon you with lingering concern.
Your finger brushed over to his brow as you attempted to flatten the knit there with your thumb. "I was actually gonna say some water."
Hunter rolled his eyes and let out a curt yet genuine chuckle. It was enough to make you smile wider as he leaned away to grab the nearest canteen.
Not everything was resolved here—in fact, you knew you were still far from it—but Hunter was no longer trapping himself into a deep hole of self-hatred, and that's all you could ask for. He was waking up to the consequences of his desperate actions, and despite the high cost this time around, it was progress he needed to make.
You still wanted Hunter to be at least half the man Omega knew him as when she returned home, because it wasn't a matter of if. It was only a matter of when.
