#crosshair x platonic reader
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CROSSHAIR IN SEAON 3 IM ACTUALLY SO DEAD WE GOT BIG BROTHER CROSS
I thought we would get some big brother Crosshair content this season, but I am thrilled we are getting much more than I could have hoped for!
Here's a little blurb with big brother Crosshair x Pabu kid.
Crosshair noticed every time you helped someone around the island. Someone was down and needed company? You were there. Someone needed a babysitter? You were there, making sure the parents could get some away time. Someone needed help moving crates? You were the first to volunteer with as much gusto as Wrecker, despite your smaller size.
He sat under a tree, leaning against a wall, arms and ankles crossed with his eyes closed. You walked by on your way home. It'd been a long day trying to find something to do, or if someone needed help.
"You don't have to do everything for everyone, you know." It was more than you'd ever heard him say.
"I know," you replied. You searched him, but it took a moment for him to open his eyes and look at you. He nodded to the empty space on the bench next to him and you sat down.
"You're still a kid," he said.
"From what I understand, you never got to be a kid. What do you know about it?"
Crosshair looked a little hurt, despite your question being steeped in genuine curiosity.
"You should get to be a kid."
"I didn't mean to upset you," you replied.
He shook his head in understanding and his eyes softly regarded you. You thought for a moment before responding.
"I guess I just want to be useful. I don't really have anyone anymore and want to do my part now that I'm in this community."
"You don't have to prove your usefulness," he said. It was a lesson he was having to learn himself.
The next morning he, Omega, and Batcher showed up at the home you shared with some other refugees. Crosshair smiled and nodded toward the beach. Omega packed some food and it was going to be a beach day. Naps in a hammock, wading in tide pools, swimming, and playing. Even Crosshair got in on the playing, splashing and pretending to be overly irritated when splashed. It was the first of many days with your new siblings. Sometimes, working could wait.
#crosshair anon#crosshair x reader#tbb crosshair x reader#crosshair x platonic reader#big brother crosshair#big brother crosshair x reader#tbb crosshair#tbb spoilers#the bad batch spoilers#omega#batcher#tbb omega#tbb batcher#reader insert#tbb fanfiction#platonic reader
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Crosshair x gn Teen!reader (platonic of course)
A/N: this is my first fanfic so sorry if it’s bad lol
Warnings: Order 66, nightmares, star wars violence, death, mentions of death, I think thats it? Lmk if i missed any!!
(Y/F/N)= Your fake name
Word count: 1319
Blaster bolts were flying at you constantly, it seemed like they would never stop. The clones you fought along side with turned against you, showing no mercy. You followed Ahsoka to the ship Rex was in, both of you jumping in the air, falling.
You wake up with a start, another nightmare. That whole day was a nightmare if you were being honest. The day the Jedi fell, the day your best friends turned on you within the blink of an eye, the day you had to fake your death, and the day you couldn’t do anything about it.
You rub your face to try and wake yourself up more. You get up and get dressed into a shirt, pants, boots, goggles, and mask. Your comm goes off, Cid was comming you.
“Hey kid, you still looking for some jobs?”
“Yeah”
~
You walk through the streets, keeping an eye out for anyone who might cause trouble. After a few minutes you reach Cid’s and go inside, going to the back where she usually gives jobs.
“-And you’ll be working with someone else for this job”
You walk in as Cid points to you. Looking around the room you see the Bad Batch, and a child..? You walk up to the holotable, keeping as calm as possible ‘they might have their chips out, you never know’. You hope they have their chips out, they were some of your closest friends. But that was in the past now, now you had to focus on your identity being hidden. And credits. Credits can get you a lot of things.
“This is (Y/F/N), the person you’ll be working with. (Y/F/N), this is the Bad Batch.” Cid points at you, then the Batch. You nod to them, acting casual.
“Here’s the job-“
~
You walk to the marauder from your apartment since you had to get your blasters, one on each of your thighs, resting in their holsters. You also got your knives and hid them in your boots, just in case.
Once you arrive you notice Crosshair standing on the stairs, obviously impatient. ‘Of course he is, he’s Crosshair for force sake.’
“You took forever”
“It’s a ten minute walk each way, of course I took forever” You roll your eyes. Crosshair walks up the rest of the ramp, and you decide to follow him. Crosshair closes the ramp behind you two, yelling to Tech that you’re on the ship.
~
The mission was simple, in theory of course. Just sneak into an academy, find the person who wants out, and leave. Simple, right?
“Alright, we’ll split up into groups, Omega and Tech, you’re with me. Crosshair and (Y/F/N), you’ll go around back and watch our backs. Wrecker and Echo, you’re our backup”
Everyone nods to Hunter, going to their groups. You walk up to Crosshair, looking up the cliff.
“So, how are we gonna get up there?” You ask him, although you already knew the answer to that.
“Just like how they are,” Crosshair nods over to the right as Wrecker throws Tech, Omega, and Hunter up the cliff. You turn your face to an expression of horror as Wrecker starts walking towards you two. Crosshair smirks, telling you that you’re going first, making you panic.
“WHAT?! THATS LIKE 15 M-”
By the time you protest Wrecker throws you up into the air while chuckling. You land on the edge of the cliff on the dirt, your left foot slipping off into the air. You quickly grab the ground and pull yourself up. Crosshair lands next to you as you stand up while wiping the dirt off of your clothes.
“You okay kid?”
“Mhm”
You start walking towards the back of the building. You and Crosshair walk through the forest, a comfortable silence between you two. You guys quickly get to the back of the building. Crosshair shoots a grappling hook above the second-story window and attaches the line to his belt. Realizing you can’t use the force to jump up, you walk over to him and grab onto him. He makes sure you’re secure before tugging on the rope to pull you two up.
You go inside through the window first, landing on a metal grate bridge that’s 6 meters above the floor. You make sure Crosshair is inside and there are no traces of you coming in.
“Hurry up kid, can’t be wasting any time”
“Yeah yeah”
You both walk over to the armory on the bridges, since that’s where the person is supposed to be. You got there before the others on purpose to make sure the coast is clear. Crosshair sends a signal to Hunter while you look around. “There’s no one up here with us”
“Don’t worry (Y/F/N), the less we have to shoot the better” You nod, looking down at the door. Suddenly you sense danger coming from the left. You quickly shove Crosshair and yourself down to the floor of the bridge and bring out one of your blasters, shooting down TK troopers. Crosshair quickly joins you and tries to comm the others.
“Kriff, they’re jamming the comms! Its a trap!”
“Obviously! They’re probably trying to get rid of whoever doesn’t like the empire!”
You can barely hear each other over the blaster fire. You sense more troops coming behind you and turn around to shoot them. ‘If only i still had my lightsabers.’ You both finally shot down all the troopers after a minute but still hear blaster’s shooting. You look down to see about 40-70 TK Troopers shooting at Hunter, Tech, and Omega.
Not caring anymore about hiding your identity, you jump over the rail, hearing Crosshair yell out your fake name. Using the force to cushion your landing, you take out your blasters and start help shooting down the TK’s. You can see Crosshair helping out as you get shot in the goggles, sending you to the floor.
You hear your fake name being called by multiple people. You take off your goggles since they’re cracked, which results in taking your mask off too. You quickly stand up, you weren’t injured since your goggles took the bullet. You start shooting again, this time using the force to aim. Within a minute or two all the troopers where shot down and you were almost to the front of the building. There were about 15 TK’s at the front doors. Crosshair signaled to you, ‘Sniper time’, you nod in response. You back up a bit while looking up at the bridges, Crosshair following you. Using the force, you throw him up onto the bridge above you. He quickly starts sniping the TK’s, all of them down within 30 seconds.
Crosshair jumps down from the bridge while you use the force to catch him. You all quickly run outside and head to the cliff, you didn’t realize how steep it was until now.
“How are we going to get down?” You chuckle at Omega’s question, everyone else already knowing the answer.
“The same way we got up here of course. Up and away.” You use the force to lift them all up and throw them into the air and then jump off. Once you all land you go inside the marauder and Tech goes to the cockpit, flying the ship.
“So, how long were you planning to hide your identity for?” Crosshair points at you with his toothpick, smirking.
“Eh, hopefully forever,” you chuckle, “but look how that turned out.”
Tech walks in, datapad in hand, “According to the empire you’re dead, same place and time as Rex, which I assume you know he’s alive”
“Gee, is everyone faking their deaths?” Echo complains, rolling his eyes.
“Only Rex, Ahsoka, and I”
“Commander Tano’s alive..?”
“Er, technically she isn’t a jedi anymore, she left the order a while ago.” You rub your neck, looking anywhere but at Echo.
“She wHAT-“
#bad batch#bad batch fanfic#bad batch x reader#tbb crosshair#clone force 99#the bad batch#crosshair x teen!reader#crosshair x platonic reader#padawan reader#star wars#star wars fanfiction#what do i tag lmao
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Y/N: Get out of my room, Wreck!
Wrecker: *being a little shit and standing outside the doorframe* I’m not in your room!
Y/N: HUNTER-
Wrecker: Hey! No fair! You can’t just call Hunter every time you want to get your way!
Y/N: Fine.
Y/N:
Y/N: CROSSHAIR-
Wrecker: *immediately running away* That’s so much worse and you know it!
#bad batch#bad batch incorrect quotes#bad batch x reader#bad batch x sister reader#bad batch x reader platonic#tbb wrecker#tbb hunter#tbb#tbb crosshair#tbb hunter x reader#tbb x reader#tbb hunter x reader platonic#tbb hunter x sister reader#tbb crosshair x reader#tbb crosshair x sister reader#tbb crosshair x reader platonic#tbb wrecker x reader#tbb wrecker x sister reader#tbb wrecker x reader platonic#star wars incorrect quotes#star wars x reader#star wars
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Asking For Help
Pairing: Platonic Tech & F!Reader
Summary: You decide to stay in bed to deal with the pain you're experiencing. The Batch notices and sends Tech to check on you.
Warnings: Reader kind of described as AFAB as fic deals with period pain. But other than that, pure fluff! It can 100% be platonic.
Word Count: 918
Notes: Does the Bad Batch understand anatomy? Probably. Was it more fun to make them panic? Absolutely. I mostly wrote this for me as I took the day off work for this exact reason 😂 no real proofreading.
Taglist: None, let me know if you'd like to be added!
Masterlist
The Marauder's cockpit seemed weirdly empty without you, and everyone noticed your absence. You hadn't been with Clone Force 99 for very long, but when you spend all your time with the same people for four months, they start to worry when you're not being as social as you normally would.
"Where is she?" Hunter finally asked, looking at the empty seat you normally occupied.
Wrecker shrugged, "I tried calling her this morning for breakfast but she didn't leave her room."
"Is it not obvious?" Tech asked, eyes not leaving his datapad. "She exhibits this behaviour roughly around the same time each month."
He thought he was giving everyone the answer, but their confused faces told him that he wasn't.
"She is mostly likely menstruating."
"In Common, Tech." Wrecker said.
Crosshair rolled his eyes, "She's on her period. It's not the end of the world."
Eyes turned back to Tech for an explanation, and he sighed.
"Do none of you pay attention to the anatomy manuals? People who are biologically female go through this process nearly every month. Their body prepares itself for an egg to be fertilized, but when it is not, it begins to shed the excess in the form of blood and uterine lining. Typically resulting in side effects such as; mood swings, pelvic cramps, lower back pain, and headaches to name a few."
Wrecker looked shocked, "And they do this every month? That sounds painful."
Tech shrugged, "I couldn't say, from my understanding, each person reacts differently."
"Shouldn't we check on her? Make sure she's okay?" Hunter asked.
"She does it every month with or without us, I don't see how now is any different." Crosshair pointed out.
"Yeah but, we're her friends, we should help if we can."
Wrecker looked back to Tech, "You know the most about it, you go see if she's okay."
Expectant looks all pointed in Tech's direction and he shook his head. "Fine, I suppose I could inquire after her."
Truthfully, Tech was also concerned for you, even though he had a vague understanding of what was going on. He found your presence soothing, and the Marauder seemed more cheerful with you around. And it was his nature to want to solve any problems that arose, so he wanted the chance to do that now.
He got up from his seat and walked toward the refresher to look for a hot compress and some painkillers so that he might actually be of assistance before cautiously walking toward your room.
He knocked quietly.
"...Yeah?" You croaked from inside the room.
"It's Tech, may I come in?"
You didn't answer immediately but then after a few seconds you spoke, "Door's unlocked."
He pressed the button to open the door before stepping in and letting it close behind him. He frowned slightly when he was you curled up on your bunk with your arms around your stomach.
"I take it I was correct then, you are menstruating."
"Yeah." You replied a little too harshly. "Did you need something?"
"It appears your absence went quite noticed this morning and the others are worried about you."
"So they sent you to check on me?"
He adjusted his goggles, "Well, even though I had suspected what the issue was, I suppose I was also worried."
You didn't say anything, but you moved slowly, creating room for him to sit down on your bunk, he sat on the edge.
"I have brought you a compress and painkillers, if you are interested. I have heard they help to alleviate any cramping and pain associated with it." He handed both to you.
You smiled at his gesture and took the painkillers first. "Thank you," you swallowed two of them down with water from the canteen beside your bunk, then you took the heat compress and hugged it to your stomach.
"Is there anything else I can do for you?" He asked, looking down at you.
You looked at him then looked at your pillow and shook your head.
"Very well, I will check up on you later then." He announced before standing up and walking toward the door.
"Wait.." You called out. He turned to look at you. "Can you stay.. with me?"
His expression went from surprised to a gentle smile, and he nodded. "Of course."
He walked back over to your bunk and returned to his seat on the edge.
"Can we- er... Can you hold me?" You asked, so quietly that he thought he might have misheard you.
"You'd like me to hold you?" He repeated.
His need for clarification caused blood to rise to your face in embarrassment.
"If-if that's okay, actually, nevermind I-"
But before you could finish your rambling, Tech crawled into the bunk next to you, holding you so your back was firm against his chest.
You sighed into him and closed your eyes as he began drawing idle shapes on the skin of your shoulder.
"Thank you, Tech." You repeated.
"You are welcome, but your gratitude is unwarranted. We are your friends, we want to help you. Anytime you need us, you do not need to be afraid to ask for help, no matter what ails you.”
You smiled once more. With the heat both from the compress and Tech pressed against you and the painkillers beginning to kick in, you felt yourself finally begin to drift off to sleep. Despite his protests, you were truly grateful to have friends who cared about you, no matter what was going on.
#the bad batch#the bad batch fanfic#the bad batch fanfiction#tbb fanfic#tbb fanfiction#tbb tech#tbb wrecker#tbb crosshair#tbb hunter#the clone wars fanfiction#the clone wars fanfic#tech x reader#tech bad batch x reader#tbb tech x reader#tbb tech fluff#platonic tech x reader#tech bad batch#crosshair bad batch#wrecker bad batch#hunter bad batch#the bad batch x reader
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Hello Toska!
I really enjoy reading your stories, they are really good! I see so many fanfics that swear, or have nasty stuff, but yours are good. I was wondering if you do requests? If so, could you do one with the Bad Batch (mostly Hunter and Crosshair) where the reader is a female Jedi? And the reader goes on a mission and risks their life to protect one of the Bad Batch but they get injured? Take as much time as you need, thank you for your time! :)
Yeah this may be from a few months ago…. But here we are
“Concussion Protocol”
Summary: concussions are risky business, and a certain “unconcerned” sniper makes sure everything this ok
Pairing: Crosshair x Reader (Platonic)
Warning: small mention of blood, throwing up I guess, nothing crazy
Word count: 1313 (I meant for this one to be a short blurb but whatever
Notes: I changed up the request a bit but it was just a small thing I wanted to write
The ringing was so loud. Though maybe it was so loud because everything else is so quiet. Or maybe you couldn’t hear anything else at all.
The only thing you did know is that if you kept thinking about this it would make your head hurt more than it already was.
And that was saying something. Your head felt like it weighed an extra 50 pounds as you were hunched over trying desperately to catch any breath and keep your head from hitting the floor.
Ringing, that’s all it was. For a moment you could hear your own thought and could have sworn something touched your shoulder.
You couldn’t tell, it didn’t matter at this point because in all honesty you couldn’t even tell where you are.
No no the something definitely touched your shoulder because it was a lot firmer this time. Your whole body shook with whatever was on your shoulder and if it wasn’t for something else grasping your other arm you definitely would have fallen over.
You looked over slightly, more even breaths rolled through you now, and finally something came into focus. A hand…. Oh that’s what was holding you up right now.
The shaky image of helmet comes into your view with a hand now place under your chin slightly lifting it up.
The way the helmet was moving you assumed the person hold be talking to you, it was either that or the world was spinning around you.
They looked familiar, whoever they were, but if you tried to think anymore you were pretty sure your head would pop right off. What did even happen? It was blurry looking back now.
Crosshair watched them for a moment, their eyes lost in thought finally trained back onto him but only for a moment before they drooped again.
He felt the growing weight of your face in his palm before you slumped over even more
“Okayyyy” He muttered more to himself since the calls of your name moments ago fell on deaf ears. The first thing Crosshair had to do was get you off of the battle field.
He was just lucky he saw you in time, the amount of now broken battle droids scattered around your unaware mind scared him. Scared him more than he would like to admit.
“I found them, I just need someone to cover me.” Crosshair spoke cooly into the comm, the panic rising in him however contradicted him.
A confirm from someone on the other side didn’t really matter to Crosshair at this moment, it mattered getting you to open your eyes again.
Finally the ringing died down, enough to recognize there was a voice coming from somewhere extremely close to you. It took a moment more to realize it was your name someone spoke.
The fight to open your eyes was hard. The dying light still hurt your eyes as they tried to adjust again.
“Hmmm?” Was all you could get out before you felt a thumb trace over part of your forehead.
It worried Crosshair of where this blood was coming from, he tried to keep in away from your mouth and eyes with his thumb for a moment.
The sound of blaster fire sounded closer to his head than he would have liked.
“Come on Crosshair go!” He heard hunter practically yell in his ear. Right he could worry about wiping your face later.
You felt yourself move off the ground slightly. Looking around you were about to protest to the person that you still couldn’t identify in your state, but the swirling world did not pair well with your head. This resulted in you quickly shoving your head towards the armored chest that held you.
A groan must have escaped your lips but a husked voice reassured you quickly. Wait no you definitely knew that voice, but for the love of maker a face nor name could make it to your brain.
A feeling did however, and it was warm in your chest- you had nothing to worry about if he was here.
“Where are we going?” You finally managed to slur some words together without moving your head too much.
“Towards the Marauder.” He spoke clearly to you, no more ringing seemed to disrupt your hearing. “Can you tell me what that is?”
The question struck you as odd for a moment. Of course you knew what the Marauder was….right? That didn’t stop you from thinking for a moment before you responded with “… a ship?”
“I’m actually impressed” was all that came from whoever held you as he started to slow down more. You couldn’t tell with your eyes closed when your surroundings changed but a quick tap to your check and you opened your eyes to the inside of a ship.
“Is this…” you started, a limp hand gestured around before returning with a thump to your lap. “ the Marauder.
The figure now crouched in front of you with on hand keeping you sitting straight up nodded once before reaching with his other hand a removing his helmet.
“Can you remember anything else?” He spoke softly and slowly to you, but you didn’t answer.
The man had a tattoo over his eye, one that caught your attention immediately.
You knew who that was. A smile broke across your lips and a small laugh forced its way through your mouth. A shaky hand of yours reached out to the side of his face with the tattoo. He let it happen and watched your face hoping for any recognition.
“Crosshair.” Finally something you remembered
The man, now you were sure was Crosshair, nodded ever so slightly again but the smirk was prominent in his features.
“I’m going to clean your head ok?” He rasped.
The smile couldn’t be swiped from your face either as you continued to smile at him. “Crosshair.” You spoke again. Just like the first time it wasn’t a question, you were sure.
He hummed as a response before pushing you back slightly and dampening a rag as he still was crouched on the floor.
“I’m tired.” It was the first and only thing you were thinking about or could think about. The pounding in your head and the swirling of the world was becoming too much.
“You just have to wait a few seconds for me ok?” The cool ragged touch your face and surprisingly didn’t burn. “I just have to make sure nothing too serious is going on up there.” He poked the middle of your forehead with his finger.
Crosshair deemed his work satisfactory enough when he could finally locate one of the many cut along your forehead. Grimacing at it he decided that it would definitely need stitches.
But you didn’t have to know that right now. “All done.” His nimble hands returned to your shoulders pulling you up. Your eyes once again opened, though you couldn’t fall asleep since Crosshair did anything in his power for you to keep talking to him.
“Is it nap time?” He almost couldn’t make out your words for a moment before he took your face in and sigh.
“Don’t tell Tech, but yeah I think you deserve a nap time.” Crosshair still planned to scan for more injury’s but could letting you sleep change a lot?
Before he knew it your body leaned forward and quickly crashed into his own, your head found its stop between his shoulder plate and his neck perfectly.
The words were soft now muffled into his skin but he could nearly make out “Thanks Crosshair.” The voice faded out towards the end but that what brought the smile back to his face.
Thought he was sure they would never hear it again small “ Of course ad’ika” was muttered into the air before he scooped the padawan up into his arms once again to move them someplace more comfortable.
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Low Battery
Crosshair x Reader (GN)
Rating: Teen, SFW
Warnings: Party Setting, Mention/Allusion to drinking alcohol, overstimulation, low social energy.
Summary: Reader is at a party and has reached their limit for social interaction. They need an escape and find it unexpectedly with a grumpy Sniper hiding in a corner.
You’d been enjoying yourself with your group of friends, the party had been fun for a while, you’d had a couple of drinks and felt comfortably warm and fuzzy, and you’d had a great time conversing about life or telling entertaining stories. But now you were at your limit. The music was too loud, pulsing in your ears and making you feel like you were in a bubble that was increasingly pressing in upon you. The crowd mingling, dancing, and drinking all around you didn’t help the uncomfortable, claustrophobic pressure, either. Your friends were talking and laughing and part of you felt bad that you could no longer follow the conversation, words blended together into an audio mush with the music and the pulsing in your ears. You smiled and nodded back when they spoke to you, but the effort it took to respond and participate socially was just too much.
You sighed, running a hand over your head and wishing you could just go home, but as you’d arrived with one of your friends, you were stuck until they were ready to leave. You stood and walked around the room under the guise of getting a new drink, seeking a quiet place to hide until you could leave and recharge in the silence of your own home. You avoided eye contact as you passed other party-goers, dodging and weaving past waving, grabbing hands and gyrating hips.
Your eyes locked onto a dark, blissfully empty corner and beelined your way towards it, only to find, to your dismay, that it was already occupied. A tall white haired man leaned in the corner, piercing eyes glaring at every person who came too close. You knew of him, others called him Crosshair, but had never met him yourself, he had a bit of a reputation for being an abrasive a-hole and loner. He had a crosshair tattoo over his eye, a little on the nose, you thought, but it looked nice on him. He gave off an intimidating, do not talk to me sort of air.
You stopped in your tracks, unsure if you should try to find another spot to hide or give up and rejoin your friends. But just the thought of making your way back through the crowd and enduring more social interaction made your skin itch, so you shook your head, squared your shoulders and headed over to the corner.
The man glowered murderously at you as you silently found an area near him with enough space between you to suggest you didn’t wish to speak, and you kept your eyes focused anywhere but on the figure beside you. You crossed your arms over your chest, hugging yourself tightly, closed your eyes, and breathed in deeply, willing time to go by faster.
Surprisingly enough, Crosshair didn’t say a word and seemed content to keep to his own space, though he continued to glower dangerously at any person who got too close. After an undetermined amount of time, and after you’d relaxed somewhat and were leaning in comfortable silence against the wall, someone lacking the ability to read the room decided to try to chat you up.
“Hey, a babe like you shouldn’t be hiding in the corner…” The intruder’s voice made you cringe and you had to fight the impulse to flee. You groaned internally and simply stared at him, unsure how to respond.
“Come on pretty thing–” He leaned in, hovering in your physical space, you tried to shrink back but had nowhere to go.
“They’re not interested, di’kut.” Crosshair snapped irritably. “And you're in my space. Leave.” The voice was low, dangerous, like a coiled snake, and it was comforting despite the shiver that ran down your spine.
The intruder stepped back, eyeing Crosshair, sizing him up before rolling his eyes and shaking his head. “Freak,” he spits the word like venom but turns around and walks away without looking back.
Relief washes over you and you let out the breath you’d been holding, offering the man a grateful smile. “Thank you,” you speak softly.
He simply shrugged, but placed himself directly beside you before returning to his vigilant and piercing glares at any further intruders to your now shared space.
The both of you remained in comfortable silence, the pressure and overstimulation had lessened, though the pulsing music and close proximity of so many people still left you feeling drained and yearning for your bed.
Crosshair chuckled slightly, a surprising sound after the long stretch of silence, “So kriffing stupid…”
You followed his gaze to a group across the room, they were chanting and shouting and lifting one obviously drunk man up off his feet. Their hold on him was shaky and precarious, everyone past the point of making good decisions. You could see it coming, the entire group fallen to the floor and it would be a miracle if any of them left without injuries. You told Crosshair as much, just before the entire group collapsed in front of your eyes and you burst into startled laughter.
You and Crosshair spend the rest of the evening in relative silence, broken only occasionally by snide comments, gossipy asides, and punctuated by massive eye rolls. You're surprised at how natural it feels, being here with Crosshair, your social battery is low but his presence seemed to cost none of the energy you usually lost. It was nice.
He kept intruders from striking up conversations and you appreciated his sarcastic commentary.
By the time your friend found you and it was time to leave, you'd enjoyed a few solid hours of quiet companionship and found you'd actually enjoyed yourself. Though you were still exhausted and would likely need a few days of little to no social interaction to recover, you felt that if every party was like this one, you’d like them so much more.
Your friend regarded you and Crosshair with much confusion, but ultimately was just happy you’d found a comfortable space to enjoy yourself. You left with a quiet smile and listened to your friend’s recounting of the events you missed the whole way home.
As you readied yourself for bed, curled up in your most comfortable blanket, your comm beeped with a message.
- Next time you need an escape, comm me. We’ll leave all the idiots behind.
Divider by Vet-iv-er
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#RebelWrites#Rebel Writes#Crosshair x Reader#can be read as platonic or romantic#the bad batch#star wars#tbb#tbb crosshair#bad batch#Reader gets overstimulated#Low Social Battery#star wars fanfiction#SFW#I had this idea forever ago and it finally got written!
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Snowkissed - Crosshair x Reader
Found this in my drafts and thought it was pretty cute!
Don't forget that requests are open!
Warnings: Low self-esteem, mentions of former imprisonment, emotional constipation
Word Count: 1.2 k
Crosshair was not nervous. Crosshair didn’t get nervous, no matter what bantha fodder Tech spouted about his heart rate. You were meeting him—you were meeting the five of them in the cantina like you always did, it was like any other weekend, with just one small adjustment. There was nothing to be nervous about.
“You’re still looking a bit pale, Cross,” Hunter mumbled to him, probably trying to be helpful or something of the sort.
“That’s what happens when you’re trapped in a mountain for months on end,” he growled.
“Given that I’ve regained full consciousness and faculties since our rescue, I doubt you can still use that excuse plausibly,” Tech offered, completely unhelpfully.
“Yeah! What he said!” Wrecker agreed gleefully.
Crosshair only kicked them both under the table as he saw you walk in. “Hey everyone! How’re you all doing?”
“Well, thank you,” Echo replied politely, taking a sip of whatever that stuff was he always drank. The others chimed in briefly, leaving Crosshair the only one who didn’t really say much of anything. Such was normally the case.
You wedged yourself into the booth on the other side of Tech. Crosshair told himself it made sense. You were better able to keep in line with the table, and this way each side of the table had a lined up set of three. It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that you were next to Tech and across from Echo, the ones who were always the best at holding your attention. It seemed like the three of you could talk for hours without an awkward lull. Except for when he came around.
Kriff. He was about to get up and let you alone to your fun, when—
“You’re looking good, Tech. You too, Cross!”
He hoped he was still pale and not, well, blushing. “Thanks.”
“You’ve been recovering so nicely! Getting color back, getting muscle back. I’m so proud of you two!”
Crosshair told himself you were just trying not to leave him out. Just being nice. Because who was nicer than you? Who was kinder, sweeter, more generous with their time and attention than you?
“We were just discussing that. I believe—” Tech was already locked and loaded with his latest spiel. Crosshair wouldn’t stop him. How could he?
He left the table without a word.
Tech noticed the moment your gaze left his face. It wasn’t too long after he had felt Crosshair’s absence on his left. “Is he… okay?”
Tech sighed good-naturedly. He had been watching the two of you clumsily waltz around each other for far too long. You were a good actor, excellent at playing at nonchalance when he knew all you wanted was to be as close to his ram’ser brother as possible. Crosshair, less so, but you were so concerned with your own performance it was difficult for you to notice. “It might be helpful for you to go check on him. I believe he is… struggling, tonight. He could use someone with your level of interpersonal aptitude.”
“Excuse me, then, please,” you said with a small grimace, your brow furrowed. Echo gladly made room for you before shooting Tech a knowing glance. Hunter and Wrecker were kind enough to keep up their ruse of ignorance and continue to converse.
“Cross? Is everything alright?” You found him in the alley behind the cantina. It was a safer place than most areas in the galaxy you had visited, but you felt especially safe knowing that Crosshair was right there. He had that effect on you.
You tucked your cold hands into your armpits to protect them from the cold as you approached him.
“I’m fine. You should go back inside, it’s cold.”
When you didn’t budge, he tried again. “You looked like you were in the middle of something with Tech. Don’t let me interrupt you.”
“Tech will be fine. What’s up?”
His hazel eyes lingered on your face for a long moment before he looked up at the sky. “Why is this so difficult?” He muttered, unsure if you could hear him.
“Talking about your feelings is always difficult,” you commented, and for a moment, he wondered if you knew how close you were treading to the subject at hand. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not worth it. What’s bothering you Cross, please? I promise that my lips are sealed to anyone else.”
He didn’t say anything. Why was it always so hard to just say something?
“I like your jacket,” you switched tactics after a few moments, plucking lightly at the elastic wristband of the leather jacket. He had always marvelled at how easily you complimented other people, and it always felt so genuine. And now you were millimeters away from actually touching him, separated by nothing but his wristband and the thin fabric of his gloves. He had half a mind to take them off, but moving to do so would surely scare you off. This closeness was enough.
“What’s it like to love someone?” He asked suddenly, and the question was so startling that your hand froze, still hovering over his.
“Wha—you mean, romantically?”
He nodded tersely.
You tittered nervously, and he noticed a blush spreading across your cheeks. He had to fight a smile at the sight. “Well, I wouldn’t be the best source of information on that subject, it’s not like I’ve been in many relationships or anything like that, but… I guess it feels like finding your other half. Someone that makes you feel ten times better just by being around, you know? Someone that you can’t stop thinking about, where, even when you’re not trying to, just looking at or hearing the right thing brings everything right back to them.” You didn’t look at him as you spoke—you normally did—your eyes focussed on the little pilings of lint on his glove.
“Like that song they played at the store yesterday,” He said. You glanced up at him briefly, his gaze still on the stars.
“What song was it?”
“I don’t remember the name,” he admitted. “All I know is that I thought I wasn’t thinking a thing, and then that song came on, and suddenly I realized everything I was doing was for you.” He finally made eye contact with you. “We have your favorite cookies at home, by the way. If I hid them from Wrecker well enough.”
Your eyes were wide and awestruck, unable to look anywhere but him.
Crosshair wasn’t sure if he should laugh or cry the longer your silence went on. “Cat got your tongue?” He said as a default, hoping to shake you from your stupor so you could at least reject him outright.
You shook your head lightly, blushing more deeply with a breathy laugh. “Sorry. I just wasn’t expecting you to feel the same, and I—”
He cut you off by pressing his lips gently to yours, turning to take your hands in his. He still wished he had taken his gloves off, but this was good enough for now. He pulled back after a few seconds—best not to smother you—and looked at you anxiously for your approval. He hoped your nervous smile was a good sign.
“Is that what was bothering you?”
“For a while, yeah.”
“Will it work to kiss it better?”
“We can try.”
#star wars#star wars fanfiction#the clone wars#tcw#tbb#the bad batch#the bad batch x reader#crosshair x reader#crosshair x reader romantic#crosshair x reader fluff#tbb crosshair x reader#tbb crosshair#crosshair fluff#the bad batch platonic#the bad batch x reader platonic
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No Matter What (Crosshair x Reader) - Platonic
Words: 1.3k
Warning: Fluff with a little bit of hurt/comfort.
Synopsis: After settling on Pabu with Clone Force 99, (Y/N) goes on a self-given mission with Crosshair to bring their lost brother home.
After the assault on Mount Tantis and the death of Hemlock, things had been different for Clone Force 99. Echo had refocused his efforts on helping the build Clone Rebellion, taking with him Emerie and some of the clones rescued from the Advanced Science Division, among them Comet. Omega had seamlessly adjusted to life on Pabu once more, happy to be just another kid, growing up peacefully until she was ready to join the fight once more if she did.
Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair would take care of Jax, Bayrn, Eva, and Sami until they could be returned to their families. Each had decided it was time to retire, to discover who they were outside of being soldiers, and to find out what adventures life had in store for them now. However, they’d always be on call if Echo ever needed them.
(Y/N) on the other hand, would use her skills as a bounty hunter to help provide for the people of Pabu and help clones across the galaxy find their way once they were freed from the empire. Although she loved the peace Pabu offered and the small family unit she had gained with Clone Force 99, she wasn’t ready to settle down completely. Not when she still had questions that needed answering. Not when she still needed to find closure.
“I miss him too,” said Crosshair, picking up Tech’s broken goggles from the dashboard of (Y/N)’s ship. Seconds later, a sigh escaped him, hidden within it, regret and grief. The last time he’d spoken to Tech was on Kamino; once again, they’d gone their separate ways. If only he’d chosen differently. “You have to let him go (Y/N). He wouldn’t want you to hold on like this.”
“I can’t,” whispered (Y/N), stopping what she was doing and allowing Crosshair’s words to sink in. “I have to bring him home, even if I have to say goodbye one last time,” she added, admitting she knew there was a chance Tech was truly gone, but she couldn’t allow herself to believe it, not until she found him. “He never gave up on me when I was lost. Neither of you did. I won't give up on him now until he’s home.”
“Then I’m going with you,” said Crosshair, putting the broken goggles back on the dashboard, moving to sleeping racks, and setting another up, if only to make his point clear.
“Omega and the kiddos need you here,” commented (Y/N), attempting to protest. Although she already knew it was pointless. Crosshair was one of the most stubborn people she knew. Once he made up his mind, there was little that could change it.
“Hunter and Wrecker can handle things here until we get back,” declared Crosshair, turning to face (Y/N) before crossing his arms over his chest. “Right now, you need me more,” he added, although he did not admit he’d thought about going out there to look for his brother. Something didn’t sit right with him, leaving Tech out there.
“I’m not going to win, am I?” asked (Y/N), sighing as she walked the length of her ship. Filled with memories of the past, her life as a Jedi Knight that felt like a lifetime ago, and her new life as a bounty hunter and protector.
“Nope,” simply responded Crosshair, “You’re stuck with me this time Shortfire.”
The moment Crosshair entered the cockpit, he pushed the red button, activating the com channel. He spoke to Hunter, Wrecker, and Omega there, informing them of his impromptu decision to join (Y/N) on her journey. Framing it to make sure she had backup and would come home again.
“It wasn’t your fault (Y/N),” said Crosshair when (Y/N) entered the cockpit, following the routine she’d once taught Tech, checking over all the systems. There’s nothing either of us could have done to stop him from using Plan 99.”
“If I was there, I could have stopped him from falling,” admitted (Y/N), finally opening up about the guilt haunting her. When her family needed her most on Eriadu, she was across the galaxy, hiding from her past and the Jedi Hunters that had seemingly appeared overnight.
“You were protecting them. No one could have predicted Saw being on Eriadu, and no one could have predicted Tech sacrificing himself. Blaming ourselves won’t change the past (Y/N). It will only prevent you from finding peace and happiness, whatever that looks like.”
“For what it’s worth, Fortune Cookie, I’m glad you’re coming with me,” admitted (Y/N), bestowing Crosshair with a new nickname, replacing the old one of Snarky Sniper. “I don’t think I could do this alone.”
“We’re family until the end,” Crosshair replied, pulling (Y/N) into himself and wrapping her in a warm embrace that seemed foreign but familiar to them both. “Where do we start?”
“Where our fight ended,” responded (Y/N) with a shakey voice, recalling when she’d gone to Eriadu, risking everything to follow the monorail track in search of Tech. She’d found the car's wreckage but no sign of Tech. If there was any blood, the rain had long since washed it away; there was no body to be found or any trace that he was even there, just what remained of the car.
“Tantis?” questioned Crosshair, confusion evident in his quiet voice as he took up the co-pilot’s seat.
“Hunter said Hemlock was the one to return Tech’s goggles; there’s got to be some trace, a lead to follow somewhere,” replied (Y/N), a slither of hope present in her otherwise whispered voice. She dared not speak louder in case her fears grew stronger and became her cruel reality.
“Setting course for Tantis,” worded Crosshair as (Y/N) piloted the ship safely away from the small island. As per tradition, the people waved goodbye, Hunter, Wrecker, and Omega among them.
“Take good care of them, Gonky,” spoke Omega through her com, receiving a simple gonk! in confirmation.
“We’ll see when you come home,” added Hunter, his voice filled with acceptance as if he knew the day would come when (Y/N) went in search of answers. As if he knew one day she’d go on the self-given mission to bring Tech home. “Stay safe out there.”
“You got it, Havoc #1,” replied (Y/N).
“I’ll make sure she comes home in one piece,” declared Crosshair, resting the stump of his wrist on his lap, grabbing onto the handle beneath his seat as he prepared for the rough climb out of Pabu’s atmosphere, “Our family’s been through enough. None of us can handle another loss.”
“We’re not losing anyone this time. We’re bringing our lost brother home,” replied (Y/N), determination alight in her voice. One way or another, the small family unit was going to be reunited again, no matter how long it took.
“Remind me again,” started Crosshair, fiddling with Tech’s broken goggles; now they’d left Pabu’s atmosphere. A smirk appeared across his lips as he remembered Tech’s hobby of recording everything—even the little things. “What you told us before we went into our first battle.”
“No matter what, I’ve got your back. I’d take a bullet for you if it comes to that. In the bitter end, we’re gonna be the last one standing.”
The holoclip appeared before the two, glowing blue and fuzzy. Of course, Tech had recorded it. They were so young back then, naive to what would happen when the war ended, unprepared for the cruel galaxy they lived in.
“Looks like Tech knew you were going to ask,” commented (Y/N); the smallest of grins appeared across her lips as she launched them into hyperspace. “Do you think Omega knows it?” she asked, curious if the boys would have shared the almost promise with Omega, the brave little girl growing up far too quickly, growing up to be a fighter no less—the best of all of them.
“She knows. Hunter would have made sure of it,” replied Crosshair, hope flooding his voice despite the uncertainty they both faced. “No matter what, Shortfire, I’ve got your back until the end.”
KnightPrincess Masterlist
#the bad batch#star wars#crosshair#reader insert#reader interactive#star wars fanfiction#star wars oneshot#the bad batch x reader#tbb crosshair x reader#the bad batch hunter#the bad batch wrecker#the bad batch omega#platonic relationships#family memes#Clone Force 99 retires#Clone Force 99 as a family#cross posted on quotev#cross posted on ao3#cross posted on deviantart#cross posted on inkitt#cross posted on wattpad#cross posted on neobook#cross posted on novlr
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We’re Stronger Together
Pairing: Reader + The Bad Batch (Platonic)
Word count: 4.3k
Summary: It was an unspoken rule; you don’t go on solo missions. But when Rex asked you to aid him in taking down a slave ring, you agreed. The Batch takes an issue with that. Especially when you came back smelling strongly of foul men leaving Hunter to struggle with his heightened senses. The only way to fix that is a giant bantha pile.
Warnings: set after S2, tech is alive, harm to children mentioned, slavery mentioned, non-consensual touching mentioned, (none of which are graphic), protective batch, no romance between reader and the batch, platonic cuddling, so much sibling-relationship content, bantha pile > puppy pile, keldable kisses, female reader
You can’t remember the last time you’ve gone on a solo mission or at least a mission where the Batch hadn’t been involved. You had joined them after Order 66 and wherever they went, you went and vice versa.
Inseparable, the lot of you.
Which is why you’re here, chewing your bottom lip nervously as you watch the argument unfold in front of you. Rex said something rational and Hunter glared, then Echo huffed at Hunter’s behaviour but made no move to step in to defend Rex who's three seconds away from throwing his hands up in frustration, “Look boys, I only need her for a couple days, a week max.”
“That’s not happening.”
Honestly, Rex should’ve seen this argument coming and prepared a better speech.
“Yeah, I kinda agree with Sarge. I don’t like it.” Wrecker rubbed the back of his head, looking a tad lost. He’s never been good at picking sides during arguments and you feel bad for him.
“It’s a simple mission, boys. She’ll be in my line of sight at all times.”
“Armed,” All eyes turned to Crosshair, whose head was turned away from them, seemingly unperturbed by the whole situation. When Rex went to speak, Crosshair sneered, “That wasn’t a question.”
“We might consider it once you tell us why you need her.” Echo said, addressing the eldest clone.
“The mission requires more of a…,” Rex trailed off, trying to find the right words that won’t get him shot, “Feminine touch.”
“Absolutely not,” Hunter pushed himself to stand between you and Rex, blocking the older clone’s view of you, “Find someone else.”
“I can do it!” Omega bravely offered, “I can be feminine.”
“No!” Came a chorus of shouts causing Omega to shrink in on herself before Wrecker pulled her into his side with an apology. Hunter ran a tired hand down his face, giving his own apology to the young girl.
“As much as I appreciate your concerns, it’s my decision.” You looked over at Tech for help. Out of all of them, he’ll be the one to back you up.
Tech nodded in your direction, stepping in to join the conversation, “While I don’t particularly agree with one of us being separated, I can see logic in Rex’s thinking-,”
Wreck sent him a look of disbelief, “How?!”
“-If the goal is to distract the target with a certain female attractiveness, I do believe she’s the best candidate for the role.”
“There was never any doubt about that,” Echo stated, “The issue is that we don’t split up. Any of us. Not after Mount Tantiss.”
Omega nodded in agreement, her mouth twisting down at the mention of Mount Tantiss, “Echo’s right. We stick together.”
Tech adjusted his goggles, avoiding eye contact, “As I said, I do not agree with her going with Rex by herself, but we can not stop her from choosing to aid in this mission. The best we can do is offer our support.”
“Thank you Tech. Look, I’ll take my viroblade with me,” You promised them, moving to Rex’s side, “I’ll be fine guys. I was on my own for years before I met you, I know how to handle a few scumbags.”
“You’re not on your own anymore,” Hunter reminded you, before letting out a defeated sigh, “You will be contacting us every chance you get, you’ll report any injuries to Tech or Echo; I don’t care if Rex’s crew has an all-star medic on board, you comm us.”
“Yes, Sarge. Anything else?”
“You’ll take my blade with you, it’s sharper than yours. You will be getting a crash course in disarming bombs with Wrecker before you leave and most importantly; you will be coming home.”
You look down at the kid who’s nodding along to Hunter’s words, a serious look plastered on her face. You feel a twinge of guilt settled in your chest, but from what Rex has told you about the mission you’re not backing down no matter how crestfallen Wrecker looks.
You attempt a reassuring smile, most likely failing as that guilt shows clear as day despite your best shot at playing it cool. You promised nonetheless, “I’ll be back before Wrecker’s able to pronounce ‘worcestershire’.”
“Hey!” Wrecker cried, but a bright smile took over his previous expression and that twinge inside your chest starts to fade away.
Truth be told, a part of you yearns for this mission. To stretch your feet, to use your muscles and brains outside of your normal mundane life on Pabu. To feel useful in a more powerful way. You also understand why your boys’ are so reluctant to let you leave. To do this mission when they’ve all turned Rex down time and time again.
Hunter’s thirst for battle quickly died out when he watched how Omega thrived in her new life. At the peace she is now able to have, away from bloodshed.
Wrecker’s able to use his strength to help the town folk. Lifting crates, furniture, bags of soil and sand. He’s also taken up construction. He’s able to burn energy without bloodshed.
Tech was never one for battle and after Mount Tantiss, he was more than willing to settle on Pabu. To accept Phee’s dinner invitation. Then the key to her place. One day you hope he’ll accept the ring Phee has tucked away. A loving marriage away from bloodshed.
Echo was the one who adjusted the hardest. Whenever Rex required his help on a mission Echo was always on the front line. But one day you watched him emerge from his room, eyes red and swollen. Another sleepless night and you know he’s done with all the bloodshed.
You don’t ask, you don’t have too. You were there, you remember all of it. You remember Echo’s disbelief over your comm as he said he found Tech. You remember running into the room, seeing Tech floating inside a tube, dead bodies scattered across the floor. You remember Echo’s hand laying flat over the glass that separated him from Tech. You remember the bloody handprint left behind when Echo turned to you.
Most of all you remember the scream that rattled the walls around you. You remember how Echo’s mouth parted, Crosshair’s name falling from his lips before he’s racing down the hallway, metal legs creaking at the strain he’s putting on them.
You remember the crying, the begging, that left Crosshair’s mouth, so broken and scared, as Dr. Hemlock held a blade in his hand and Omega’s still body on the medical table beneath him. You remember the smell of blood, how the red of it dripped onto the floor.
You remember the sound of a blaster fire, a body hitting the floor. You remember Echo desperately trying to hold Omega’s stomach together as he cauterised her skin knowing there’s no time for stitches or bacta patches.
You remember it all so kriffing vividly that the crate you had been moving falls from your grip, dropping loudly to the ships metal floor beneath you, the noise drowning out your gasp as the air around you thins and your lungs ache for steady breaths.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Your head snapped up in Rex’s direction, eyes widening when you spotted the clone trying to bypass Rex and enter the ship, “Crosshair?”
The sniper doesn’t acknowledge you. Instead his attention is solely on the older clone, “You’re sending her into a cantina full of powerful, greedy, vile men who would do anything to have her.”
Rex sighed, “Crosshair-,”
“I understand not wanting the others to be involved, they’re too protective. The second anyone touches her the mission would be ruined and dead bodies make things complicated.”
Rex gave another, deeper sigh, “Your skill sets would prove to be a huge asset to the mission, I’m aware and if I thought you were any different from the rest of them, I would have asked you. I know you Crosshair, you’d be the first to pull the trigger.”
Finally Crosshair’s eyes land in your direction, the subtle pinch of his brow letting you know that the panic that's choking you from the inside is written all over your face. He stared at you, knowingly, “Don’t do this. For your own sake, don’t.”
“The man we’re after is a slave trader. Young kids and helpless women,” You said, although you figured he’s aware of that already, “If you were in my shoes you’d do the same thing. For me, for Omega. Crosshair I need to do this.”
You moved to stand in front of him and you pulled his head down until your foreheads met, an action you’ve only done once before with him. Only this time he’s leaning in instead of pushing you away with a threat of you meeting the barrel of his rifle.
“Take care of the boys and Omega while I’m gone, yeah?”
“I’m not their kriffing babysitter.”
You chuckled and pulled back to meet his gaze, “Take care of yourself too.”
Although the mission only took three days, your body – your soul – is screaming for your family. For their arms around you, their voices reassuring you that you’re okay, that you’re home. That you’re safe.
So when the front door is the only thing that stands between you and them, a weight is lifted from your shoulders. A breath you hadn’t realised you’ve been holding leaves your lungs and you draw in a new one full of relief.
You punched in the house’s code and the green light blinked, lock unlocking. You smiled, opening the door and before you’re fully able to close it behind you, you’re being pushed back against it, Hunter’s face buried in the crook of your neck.
Not exactly the welcome home you’d imagined would be awaiting you.
You looked over at the other boys, hoping to get an explanation. You start with Echo but the clone just leaned back against the couch, a smile on his face. Beside him is Tech; the clone brought a finger up to tap the side of his nose.
Oh
Right. You probably reek of–
“Testosterone.” Hunter snarled, and you can feel the way his nose scrunched up at the smell of male hormones on your person.
“Not the welcoming home I expected,” You joked, trying to push Hunter away but the clone didn’t budge, “Come on I can’t smell that badly, I had a shower on Rex’s ship. Seriously Hunter, at least let me enter the house.”
Hunter finally pulled back, eyes still locked in on the flesh on your neck. You try not to squirm under the intensity of his gaze, or the smug looks from the others. Hunter tilted your head and you're quick to give him access to the other side of your neck despite your earlier protest. He spared no time diving in, head jerking back instantly, nostrils flailing and he growled, “They touched you.”
The smug look on Echo’s face disappeared instantly and he stepped forward, eyes narrowed in on the back of Hunter’s head like he can see the skin where you had been touched through the clone’s skull.
Hunter pressed you back farther against the door, voice demanding as he asked, “Where else?”
“Hunter-,“
“I won’t ask again.”
The sound of tiny feet racing down the hallway saved you from having to answer, from having to admit that they were right. That you weren’t strong enough for the mission. Not without them. Admitting that would make the phantom feeling of hands on your body too real.
You pushed Hunter away and caught the girl just in time, your name falling from her lips as giggles filled the air when you tickled her side. Behind her Wrecker smiled at you, welcoming you home.
“You’re back! I want to hear all about the mission!” Omega said, jumping out of your arms when you tap on her back. She’s grown so much in the last few years and you’re too exhausted to hold her weight, “Sorry, I’m just excited you’re back home. Are you hurt?”
You’re able to give her a quick shake of your head before that phantom touch across your skin is back and you can’t hide the rise of goosebumps on your arms. Not from Hunter at least. The man studies your body language, breathing in the scent of foul men that lingers on your skin, even after using Rex’s refresher to shower.
“Omega, I want every blanket and pillow in this house brought out here,” Hunter turned to address the biggest clone, “Wrecker, clear all the furniture out of the living room.”
“Oh, you betcha!” Wrecker cheered with a grin, “We haven’t had a good ol’ bantha pile in ages!”
“Bantha pile?” You questioned as you watched the two follow Hunter’s orders.
“Yes, it is when a group of people all sleep and/or cuddle together. It was a way for Hunter to memorise our scents growing up. To help calm him,” Tech informed you, “It’s been awhile since we’ve had one, but given that Hunter is indeed struggling with you not smelling like us, the bantha pile is warranted. I’d even say necessary.”
You nodded. It makes a certain amount of sense but you’re not entirely sure it is warranted. To your knowledge they didn’t do this when Crosshair came back, when Tech was found or when Omega healed from her injuries at the hands of Dr. Hemlock. Or maybe they did and you weren’t there, that they didn’t find it necessary to include you.
No, it’s best not to go down that path. You’re here, your boys are crowded around you as you all await for Omega to return and that’s all that matters.
But Tech has always been able to read you and he awkwardly bumped his shoulder against yours, voice hushed, “You’re part of our alitt. You and Echo were dealing with Sid when Hunter and Wrecker welcomed Crosshair, Omega and myself home. We tried waiting for you but Hunter was struggling. It wasn’t an easy call but it was necessary to proceed without you and Echo.”
You brushed a hand over Tech’s and sent him a smile, “I understand, truly. I shouldn’t have questioned my place with you guys.”
“We won’t allow that to happen ever again, ner vod.” He promised and you believe him.
“I got everything!” Omega announced, bouncing back into the room, her voice muffled behind the mountain of fabric balanced in her arms, which Hunter quickly relieved her of. The young clone looked over at Echo, “I got your heated blanket too. I wasn’t sure if our body heat will be enough to keep you warm through the night. Better safe than sorry, right?”
“I…” Echo blinked, accepting his blanket as he fumbled for words. No matter how long you all have known Omega, the smaller clone always finds ways of surprising her family with her never-ending kindness. Echo cleared his throat, “Thank you, Omega.”
She beamed up at him, brushing off his thanks as she grabbed a handful of pillows to scatter around the living room. Wrecker and Hunter followed behind her with blankets. Eventually the room was approved for a bantha pile by Wrecker’s standards and six bodies started to settle in for the night.
With Hunter against your left side, head buried in your neck, his lips gazing the skin over your pulse point and Wrecker snuggled behind him, Echo moved to claim his spot on your other side as Tech sat cross legged by your lower right leg and Omega’s balanced on your chest leaving just Crosshair left to pick his spot.
“There’s still room.” You pointed out to him, silently hoping he’ll join.
Crosshair looked down at the pile, disgust written all over his face, “Not happening.”
“C’mon brother,” Wrecker patted the empty spot behind him, “You know you want to.”
The sniper may be rough around the edges but he’s not immune to his brothers’ pleas. He’ll cave, you know so.
“Not in the slightest. I’d rather eat glass than be sandwiched between you all.”
“Fine, but you’ll regret it.” Wrecker shrugged, snuggling closer into Hunter’s side, his large arm thrown over the smaller body to rest on your arm.
Crosshair rolled his eyes, “Doubt it.”
Tech glanced up from his datapad, “I have informed Phee that I will be staying another night here,” He looked at you, “She is pleased that you have returned unharmed and has invited you for dinner tomorrow if that is to your liking.”
“Tell her there’s no other place I’d rather be.”
He nodded, “I will inform her immediately, she will be happy to hear so.”
Omega frowned, rifling through the blankets, “Where’s Lula?”
Wrecker’s head shot up, alarmed and you glanced around until you spotted her by the hallway entrance. You pointed Omega to the toy, “You must have dropped her.”
Omega looked over at her brother, eyes wide and childlike, “Crosshair? Can you get her?”
The clone looked at her, then the pile of blankets and pillows that were basically drowning her small frame, before blowing out an annoyed sigh, but he went and got the toy anyway. He carelessly threw it in her direction, which earned a cry of protest from Wrecker. Crosshair rolled his eyes in response before crouching down beside Echo, moving his blanket aside.
The former ARC Trooper’s body stiffened when a pair of hands met his pelvic. Then he flinched away from Crosshair’s touch when the clones fingers found the clasps of his prosthetic legs. You watched slightly puzzled at what was happening.
Crosshair’s fingers froze for a fleeting second before he scowled down at Echo, “Relax Reg, if I have to suffer sleeping here tonight I’m at least going to make sure my nuts stay intact.”
A puff of air met your skin as Hunter grunted, “Language Crosshair, the kids here.”
Omega giggled as she settled comfortably on your chest, “I’m not a kid, Hunter.”
Beside you, Echo flicked his youngest brother’s arm, “I don’t move in my sleep.”
Wrecker let out an loud laugh, “Ha, good one Echo!”
“You could sleep on the other side of the bantha pile,” Echo cocked his head over to where Wrecker is, “Snuggle up behind Wrecker. He doesn’t sweat that much.”
“I’d rather not. Now are you going to let me continue?” Crosshair gestured to the prosthetics.
Echo nodded, moving to make it easier for his brother to reach the clasps, “You better not steal my blanket throughout the night.”
“What are you going to do? Chase me?” Crosshair jeered, but his tone held no malice behind it and Echo for his part just playfully shoved the sniper back until his ass met the floor. Beside you Hunter mumbled something incomprehensible into the crook of your neck while Wrecker and Omega laughed as Crosshair scowled up at them.
Once the prosthetics were removed, Crosshair huddled underneath Echo’s heated blanket with him, keeping enough distance from the clone for it not to be weird. Crosshair’s words, not Echo’s. The latter couldn’t care less, especially when the added warmth helped him sleep soundly.
With them both settled in for the night Tech was able to finally curl himself against your thigh, directly underneath Echo, giving the fact that without the clone’s prosthetics there’s now room for Tech to lie down and be close to you.
“This is… nice.” You said, pulling Echo in closer to your body when he struggled to do so himself without use of his prosthetic legs. His prosthetic arm had been taken off too. Most likely so you don’t get hit by it.
“Aw, yeah it is!” Wrecker’s usual loudness is muffled by Hunter’s shirt and the older clone chuckled at the rough vibration that spread across his back.
Omega propped herself up to rest her head in her hands, her elbows pressing against your chest and you hid the wince when her pointed appendages dug into your sternum.
Her eyes twinkled as they met yours, “We’ve missed you,” She exclaimed, the twinkle in her eyes grew brighter, “Tech barely left the house, Phee brought over food for us but we ended up giving it to the shelter ‘cause Echo went bananas and made enough food for the entire village! And Wrecker built a giant shed in a day! The Unstoppable Machine they called him. Oh and Crosshair slept at the gun range every night. Echo had to bring him food and a pillow and blanket-,”
You blew out a disappointed sigh. Leave it to Crosshair to do the exact opposite of what you said. Taking care of yourself does not equal three nights at the gun range. Crosshair hid his head in Echo’s shoulder shielding himself away from your scowl.
“Hunter wouldn’t leave my side,” Omega continued, “I wasn’t even allowed to sleep over at the Hazards. It’s okay though. Truthfully, I didn’t feel like sleeping away from home anyways.”
You swallowed around the lump in your throat. You knew they didn’t want you to go but you never really knew how much pain you’re absent brought the six of them.
“I’m so sorry,” You whispered into the silence of the room, “I’m here now and I’m not leaving ever again, I promise.”
Omega held out her hand, little finger up, “Pinky promise?”
You locked your smallest finger around hers and brought them both up to your lips, pressing a delicate kiss to her skin, “To the brightest stars and back.”
Omega was the first to fall asleep, followed quickly by Echo; the warmth of his blanket and your body heat lulled him into a peaceful slumber. Wrecker was next, his snores unnaturally quiet for a man his size. Small blessings, truly.
Tech’s head is pillowed on your thigh, his datapad loosely held in his hand, conversation with Phee most likely cut short by his sleep. Out of all your boys your heart is warmed by him the most. He’s the only one who doesn’t live here, he’s the only one who has spent four nights away from their partner. He’s never once complained about it and you know neither has Phee; she’d let Tech spend a thousand more nights here if that’s what he needs.
Crosshair and Hunter were the last to drift off, their bodies on high alert, tracking any movement that could possibly take you away from them. Crosshair once said that nothing is ever too good to be true, but like most things the sniper’s believed, he’s wrong. Because you’re here for good, and that’s true.
You felt a nudge against your right side and you rolled your eyes fully expecting to get an ear full of Tech’s latest discoveries during your absence but instead you're met with an unreadable expression as Crosshair stared at you.
He doesn’t say anything and he looks more pissed off than before. It’s late and you're tired, physically and emotionally and the last thing you want is an angry clone glaring at you through the night.
“This wasn’t my idea,” You reminded him, tone a little rougher than it probably should be, “But I’m not going to have you ruin it because I need this. I might have only been gone for three days but I was alone for each one and you were here, with the boys’ and Omega.”
He’s silent, eyes sharp almost like he’s studying you. When he does speak it sounds like it’s through gritted teeth, “Where else?”
And, oh
You had been expecting that question from Hunter, maybe even Echo, but not him.
You sighed and let your head fall back against your pillow. Whenever the gentleman got too bold, you were able to direct their attention somewhere other than your body… but sometimes you just weren’t fast enough.
“You were right, the others wouldn’t have been able to sit and watch,” You shifted your eyes back to the sniper, “The man grabbed me, pulled me into his lap and sometimes when I close my eyes, I can feel his breath against my skin and I hate it.”
The arms locked around you tighten, Hunter's head unburing itself from your neck, his breathing falling to the softest puffs against your skin. You honestly should have known that he wouldn’t fully be asleep.
You sighed, pulling Omega closer to your chest, needing to feel her heartbeat, letting it ground you, “Rex was immediately lifting me off of him and using his body as a shield, keeping me out of the man’s sight. What was supposed to be a stealth mission turned into a full blown blaster fight. What was it you said Crosshair? ‘Dead bodies make things complicated’?”
“Sometimes complicated is necessary for survival,” Crosshair said, “It may have not gone down the way you wanted it to, but tonight there are people finding their freedom from slavery and that’s because there are good people out there willing to fight for them. People like you.”
Your throat constricted at his words and you felt the beginning of tears build up, you do your best to blink them away before they get a chance to escape.
“You’re not leaving us again, right?” Hunter’s voice was rough, and it was clear from the way he asked the question that there was only one acceptable answer.
“No, never again,” You replied, before asking your own question, “Do I smell better now?”
Hunter made a show of taking in a deep breath, pausing for a second before giving a slow nod, “You smell like my aftershave, Echo’s mechanical oil for his prosthetics, Omega’s shampoo, Phee’s perfume that lingers on Tech’s clothes and the chemical ingredients in Tech’s eye drops.”
“Wrecker and Crosshair?”
“By the morning you’ll smell like them too. I promise.”
“Good, but in case I don’t; I’m not doing anything tomorrow night.”
Crosshair pressed his front flushed against Echo’s back and threw his arm over his brother's body to rest on top of Omega’s back, “If we must, I'm making Wrecker bring the mattresses down here. I’m getting too old for this shit.”
You laced your fingers with his across Omega’s body, “Deal.”
A/N: I’ve had one rule when it comes to tbb. I don’t write for Crosshair – He’s a hard character to write – So how the heck did I manage to include him in 80% of this fic?! I’m not sure I was able to capture his personality completely but I hope I did him justice. (runs and hides)
#the bad batch#tbb#tbb hunter#tbb wrecker#tbb echo#tbb tech#tbb omega#tbb crosshair#tbb rex#tbb x platonic reader#justice joy writes#tbb fanfiction
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A Tooka for a Puppy (Wrecker Comfort Fluff)
Idk if this has been done before, but I just really love the idea of making plushies for Wrecker, so I wrote a mini fic about the idea.
This is a reader insert but the relationship between you and Wrecker isn't explicitly romantic, can be read as platonic. Also the title is based off the fact that Wrecker is a giant puppy <3
Nightmares were not unheard of on the Marauder and unfortunately, you had grown too familiar with what each crew member sounded like when the woke from them.
It was your lookout shift and, though you had been curled up with your favorite blanket in the pilot chair, you knew you needed something to drink if you were going to make it the rest of watch. You were glad you had gotten up when you did.
Just as you were pouring your drink, you heard a clatter, the muffled sounds of ragged breathing following
You were by Wrecker's side in an instant. Even as you stroked his back- his usual calming method, he scrambled around his bunk for something, desperate and still breathing hard. It took the better part of ten minutes to calm him down enough to ask what he was looking for.
"Lula," he had said, voice graveled and shaken, "I keep thinking I lost her in the middle of the night. Forget I gave her to the kid."
Wrecker had one of the kindest hearts in the galaxy, that you were sure. He practically begged you not to mention his nightmares in front of Omega.
"Don't want her to try 'an give Lula back. She needs her more than me."
It made your heart ache. No one ever gave Wrecker enough credit for his deep wealth of empathy.
You had to do something. If he didn't have Lula, maybe a whole new tooka was in order. It took several days, even though you were between missions at the moment- sewing supplies weren't exactly common on the Marauder. Some things from the med-bay's stitching helped and as for material...well, the aforementioned favorite blanket, its fabric was a decent enough mimic of tooka fur.
Now you were standing in the hallway to the bunks, waiting for Wrecker to switch off his watch shift with Hunter. You heard his thudding footfalls first, then a loud yawn as he ducked through the door way.
He blinked a little when he saw you but quickly had that cute smile on.
"I've got a surprise for you."
Wrecker's face was alight in an instant, he loved getting presents, especially since they were so rare. "Oooo! What is it, what is it?!"
Slowly, and maybe a little sheepishly, you pulled your hand from behind your back, "I know she's not Lula, but, I thought maybe a new Tooka could help you sleep better."
He all but froze as he stared down at the stuffed animal. As if he were afraid it was made of glass, he raised his hand, not even daring to grab it as he just brushed his fingers along the fabric.
"You...you made this?"
You nodded.
"For me?"
A little chuckle, "Yes, Wrecker. You were so sweet, giving Lula to Omega even though you still need her, I just wanted you to have-"
Before your sentence was even finished, big arms scooped you up and hoisted you off your feet. Wrecker all but buried his face in your shoulder as he spun you around, that boyish laugh bubbling in his throat.
Though, even when the motion slowed, he stayed like that a moment longer, arms wrapped around you and forehead braced against your neck. When Wrecker finally pulled back you thought you saw a glimmer of tears in the crinkled corner of his eyes.
You smiled back at him, and pressed the doll into his hands. He hugged it to his chest- but his face fell just a bit as his thumb ran over the fuzzy material.
"She looks like that blanket you love!" he gasped, mind putting two and two together.
You shrugged, "Eh, I've been needing to get a new one for awhile, figured it could make a better tooka than a cover."
His expression said he didn't quite believe you, but, because this was Wrecker, he just pulled that determined grin. "First chance I get, I'm gonna get you the BEST blanket in the galaxy!"
That made you laugh, there he went again, thinking of others, "Thanks, Wrecker."
"No, thank you! " he pulled you into a one armed hugged this time, cheek resting on your head as he said, "You're the best."
A content sigh left you when you returned the gesture, enjoying the soft warmth of the embrace. "Nah, you are big guy."
#I love the order of those gifs cos it looks like Omega gave him Lula#and he immediately just started hitting Crosshair with her XD#wrecker x reader#wrecker x you#wrecker x y/n#platonic wrecker#though like I said it can be read as#romantic wrecker#wrecker fluff#bad batch wrecker#clone x reader#sw#deeja writes
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Hello it's @clone-anon. I love this new season. Who can say no to big brother Crosshair? Here's some Crosshair x former padawan reader with big brother vibes. Influenced by TBB S3E4.
You met Omega and her brothers while on the run from the Empire. You'd hidden your abilities ever since Order 66 was handed down, but sometimes it was tempting to reach out. It's not that you needed it for protection necessarily, although sometimes your lightsaber came in handy when you were in a bit of a bind. It was more that you missed your master and fellow jedi. It was lonely and you wondered if you took the risk to reach out more, you might feel those you'd lost again.
You first met Omega at a bazaar. You reached into your pocket for what few credits and she got the slightest glimpse of your lightsaber. Omega brought you to her brothers and promised you'd be safe with them, knowing how dangerous the galaxy was for you. It took some time for you to trust, but they made it easy. You were surprised by the openness of her brothers. While that was a comfort in a galaxy that seemed full of danger, you actually felt safest with her grumpy brother Crosshair. Although he seemed the most closed off, you knew where you stood with him and he always kept an eye out for you.
You and Crosshair walked through some town overrun with stormtroopers. You were trying to find some power supplies for Tech and it was getting harder and harder to come by credits and supplies these days. You did your best to blend in, but your hand always twitched toward the lightsaber hidden along your waist.
"Easy," Crosshair whispered, putting a hand on your arm. "They don't suspect."
"How can you be sure?" you asked.
"I can read them," he replied. He put a hand on your shoulder and you took a deep breath. He was right. You were looking at them more than they bothered to give you a second glance. You both managed to find the parts you needed and headed back through town toward the ship. Just as you made it through the busiest part of the city, Crosshair looked up and down the road before pulling you into an alley.
"You're still nervous," he said, taking your shaking hand in his own. His still shook sometimes, but it wasn't as bad as it had been. "Come here." He put his arms around you and held you. "They won't get you."
He knew you were still scared of being found out, even though you had become good at hiding any hint that you were once a padawan in public. Crosshair gave you a little squeeze.
"It's still overwhelming," you said. "They're everywhere. I just want to live my life."
"I know," he said, waiting for you to let go when you were ready. You knew he'd protect you like any of his siblings and after some minutes you pulled away and nodded. He put an arm over your shoulder and you walked out of town together. You relaxed as you got further from civilization and to the hidden woods where the ship was waiting. Another successful supply trip.
I LOVE WHEN YOU WRITE BIG BROTHER CROSS AND I WILL NEVER GET OVER IT, IN THIS ESSAY-
#AHHHH#big brother crosshair#star wars#clone wars#the clone wars#the bad batch#crosshair#tcw#tbb#tbb crosshair x platonic reader#crosshair x platonic!reader#tbb crosshair x padawan reader
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Hey so I’ve been thinking about this idea for a little bit- but maybe we could get a little bit of platonic Cross with a padawan reader and this sort of mirrors “the outpost” episode in tbb season 2- where reader and Cross are walking through a mine field or something and joking padawan says that like the mines probably aren’t even there, but low and behold they step on one and crosshair is now the one that has to carefully defuse it- maybe even at the end it could be like flashing back to the episode with Cross and Mayday where he’s thinking about it
Hope that made sense!
Okay I am falling in love with this dynamic. It's slightly different than what you described, but I think is in the same spirit. I'm going to set this after Crosshair leaves the Empire and rejoins the Batch because yes. Also, if he's flashing back to Mayday, that must have already happened.
The rest of the squad headed in one direction after Hunter sent you and Crosshair through a minefield. A supposed minefield. It looked fine to you. You practically skipped around with energy while Crosshair walked forward, long strides at a steady pace.
"I bet there aren't even any mines left out here," you said.
"You should be able to figure it out," he replied. "Search your feelings or whatever."
You gave him a look. Your days as a padawan felt long gone since the Empire came to power. You felt safe with the squad, knowing them since before Order 66 was handed down, and managing to find them on Pabu. Much had happened and while you didn't use the force in an obvious way in public, when you were with Crosshair you knew it was okay. Right now you were certain there was nothing to worry about. You took another few steps forward with a smile now on your face. Crosshair simply watched with a raised eyebrow hidden beneath his helmet.
"Pfft," you replied with a wave of your hand and a few more steps. "See? It's fine. I've searched and all I've found is dirt and more dirt and some trees. I bet there's nothing-"
You felt a metal click as your left foot stepped on a mine. Probably the only active mine in the entire area. You felt your heart leap in your throat and immediately wanted to reach for Crosshair's steady arm, but he was too far to reach just yet.
"Take a breath," he said. He was trying not to panic, but his face gave away his emotion as he removed his helmet and searched for any other mines in the immediate area. Finding none, he kneeled down in front of you and blew the dust and dirt away, revealing the metal contraption. You tried not to worry, but saw a small smile tugging on his face and felt a surge of frustration.
"Why are you smiling, Crosshair?! I might die."
Crosshair reached into his pack and got out three small stakes and a while he didn't have a hammer, he grabbed a rock nearby. He would need a steady hand, but that was something he could manage. In his mind he thought of Mayday in that cave. Despite the warm sun on his back, he suddenly felt a chill. He shook it from his mind, focusing on helping you.
"I'm not smiling because you're standing on a landmine," he replied. "I'm thinking of... a friend. A brother." He started gently hammering the first stake into place. He bent down further to make sure it was secured in the right spot.
"Oh," you said. "Which one?"
"A reg," he said quietly, hammering the second stake in. "His name was Mayday."
You looked at him while he hammered in the third staKe. You sensed his memory was happy yet sad. That if he could, Crosshair would want to talk to Mayday now. You smiled to yourself, wanting to ask a thousand questions, but holding off.
Crosshair finished the job and stood up. You went to move.
"No, stop! Wait!"
You stopped moving, keeping your foot steady.
"Now, I'll go stand behind those trees and when I say, you can move."
"Great," you replied sarcastically. "I get to die alone."
"No," he said. "I'm just not stupid."
Crosshair hid behind the trees and then told you to try easing off the mine. You did so, breathing a huge sigh of relief when you were clear. Crosshair came out from behind the trees, smiling and putting his helmet back on.
You hugged him, surprising him for a moment, but he quickly returned the hug. You continued walking together, feeling a little more cautious about the dangers of this trek. Crosshair was focused on the job ahead, but smiled to himself, thinking about the friend he had lost, but who would still always be with him.
"You would have liked him," he said.
"Tell me about him?"
Crosshair was silent for a minute, but then after considering it, started opening up about him for the first time.
#tbb crosshair x padawan reader#tbb crosshair x platonic reader#crosshair x reader#tbb crosshair fanfiction#tbb crosshair x reader#crosshair anon#reader insert#land mine#mayday mention#search your feelings or whatever#words to live by
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Counting Stars
Warnings: bad batch spoilers, violence, weapons, wounds, let me know if I missed any :)
Pairings: Bad batch x sister reader
*not my gif*
Summary: For as long as you could remember, you longed and hoped for freedom. But when it finally came, it was nothing like what you pictured
A/N: Welcome to book place’s one year event!!
Inspired by: Counting Stars by One Republic
Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work
Lately, I've been, I've been losing sleep
A huff left your lips as you tossed and turned, sleep not coming to you no matter how hard you tried. Despite your thoroughly exhausted body and mind, you couldn’t get a single wink of slumber.
Finally, you threw your legs over the end of your bunk and rested your elbows on your knees, dropping your head and letting it hang low for a second before pushing yourself up and creeping quietly over to a chair that sat by a large window in your room, folding yourself into it.
Once you were seated, you paused, listening for any sound that your brothers had been disturbed by you getting up. When you were satisfied that they weren’t, you settled back into the cushioned chair, allowing yourself to get lost in thought as you gazed out the window.
“Couldn’t sleep?” A voice asked quietly from behind you.
You practically jumped out of your skin as you whipped around to face the source of the voice, “Kriff, Hunter.” You scowled, falling back against the seat when you were able to recognize him, “You’re going to give me a heart attack.”
He winced slightly, “Sorry,” He mumbled, pulling up a chair and taking a seat beside you.
“I didn’t wake you, did I?” You asked worriedly after a moment of silence.
Hunter shook his head softly, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest, “Nah, I couldn’t sleep either.” He admitted, “I’m surprised the others didn’t wake up, though. You’re as loud as Wrecker is getting up.” His voice switched to a teasing one.
You scoffed, reaching over and punching his shoulder, “Shut up,” You mumbled with a playful roll of your eyes, “No one can be louder than he is.”
As if right on cue, said man let out a loud snore that had you and Hunter placing hands over your mouths to try and stifle your laughter that was really just affection for your brother.
It went quiet for another few minutes, and Hunter turned towards you with his mouth open, ready to tell you something, only to stop himself short. You were cuddled up on the chair, lips parted slightly and soft snores left your lips.
A small smile began to tug at the ends of his lips and he stood up, walking over and gently lifted you up bridal style before making his way over and setting you on your bed.
He allowed his smile to grow slightly as he softly moved a strand of hair out of your face before turning around and going back to his own bed.
Dreaming about the things that we could be
Though you and your brothers walked into the cantina with heads held high and shoulders back confidently, you flinched a little bit on the inside at each judging glance and not-so-quiet whisper shot back and forth between each group of soldiers you passed.
You knew that after so many years of dealing with it that you should have become numb to their jeers by now, but it never got easier. It was as hard as the first day the other clones saw you.
They automatically dubbed you ‘The Bad Batch’. The default clones. The mistakes. The freak who somehow became the first woman clone.
Oftentimes, you would find yourself longing that for just one day, you and your brothers could be rid of their stares that never wore off. You wished that you could just be accepted for who you were, defaults and all.
With the knowledge that the stupid little thought would never come true, though, you kept on pretending that you could deflect everything that they threw at you.
The five of you sat down after grabbing trays and began silently eating, pretending not to notice the way the two clones that had previously been sitting a couple seats down had gotten up and moved away.
Wrecker had always been better about not caring about their stares than you, and began animatedly talking about something you didn’t have the energy to even pretend to listen to, no matter how much you loved your brother.
You watched as Crosshair sent a deadly glare and scowl in the direction of a table a few feet away that were very clearly talking about you all, not even bothering to hide it as they pointed and rolled their eyes in your direction.
“I hate it when they do that,” You grumbled under your breath, causing Crosshair’s eyes to shoot over to you.
“Ignore them.” He muttered, “They’re not worth it.”
“I wish we could just be normal,” You admitted in a small whisper, one that only he could hear over the roar of the cantina.
“I’d rather not be like those morons, thank you very much.” Your brother sneered in their direction as a confirmation to his own words.
A small chuckle left your lips and you looked down on your plate, trying to stifle it.
But baby, I've been, I've been praying hard
“The odds of us leaving this mission alive are two to ninety eight.” Tech stated matter-of-factly as you all sprinted as fast as you could down a corridor, away from the battle droids that never seemed to go down, no matter how many you shot.
“Not the time, Tech!” Hunter roared, ducking his head out of the way just in time to miss the blaster shot.
“What are you talking about?” Wrecker laughed loudly, “I like those odds!”
“We’re the twos in the equation, Wrecker!” You screamed as you all took a sharp turn into the hanger where you had left the Marauder.
The man’s smile immediately fell and he pumped his arms to move faster.
Spinning around whilst still moving, you took your own blasters and began shooting at the droids as you ran backwards, successfully hitting a couple of them in the heads and making them fall limply to the ground.
“Come on, Y/n!” Hunter roared the second your steps began to slow so that you had more accuracy.
You didn’t listen to him, coming to a complete stop and firing into the never ending sea of gunfire and metal, “I’ve got this!” You called back, “Get the ship ready!”
“Tech! Get the ship ready!” He called, not hesitating to run right up beside you and begin to help you out, Crosshair and Wrecker close on his tail.
“Get to the ship!” You screamed over the chaos to them, “I can do this!”
“We’re not leaving you,” He grunted, shooting droid after droid.
Said, "No more counting dollars, we'll be counting stars"
“Do you ever think about what it would be like if we didn’t work for the republic?” You asked suddenly, and all your brothers looked up from their meals, “If we were just normal citizens?”
It was silent for a whole moment while you stared out the window that sat in the Marauder, oblivious to the way your brothers shared glances with one another.
Tech cleared his throat, “It is best not to dwell on the impossible of what could have been.”
Wrecker furrowed his eyebrows, “Well, why not?”
“Because it is clinically proven to be unhealthy.” He informed the man patiently.
“What would we do if we didn’t work for the republic?” You continued as if you hadn’t heard any of them, “We would be free.” You mused, answering your own question.
“We’re already free enough,” Hunter grumbled, beginning to grow nervous with how you were thinking, unsure of where it would end up leading to.
Finally, you tore your eyes away from the window and looked over at all of them, “Are we, though, Hunter?” You asked with raised eyebrows.
“Yes.” He snapped, “Now, like Tech said, there’s no use thinking about it.”
You sat there for a moment before nodding and turning your attention to your plate.
Yeah, we'll be counting stars
Hunter let out a sigh at the sight before him, guilt creeping into his stomach in a way that made him feel slightly queasy. He lingered in the doorway, watching as you pulled your knees up to your chest and buried your face in them.
Ever since the ‘conversation’ that had ensued during meal time a few rotations ago about freedom, you had been distant from everyone.
Taking in a large breath to hopefully give himself courage, he stepped into your shared room on Komino, and your head immediately snapped up at his arrival.
“Hey, Y/n,” He greeted with a soft sigh, lowering himself onto the ground beside you, leaning his head back against the cool window, dropping the helmet that had been securely sitting under his arm beside him.
“Hey, Hunter.” You replied quietly, looking away from your brother to gaze out the window that stood behind him.
“Listen,” He reached up and ran a hand through his hair, “I’m sorry. About what happened, and for the things I said.”
Your gaze lingered on him for a moment before you shrugged and averted it once more, “It’s fine.” You mumbled.
He shook his head back and forth softly, “No, it’s not.” He admitted, “Because you were right, we’re not free.” Your attention was pulled towards him once more, “But we’re soldiers, we’re not supposed to be free.”
You cleared your throat slightly, “We do have more freedom than most of the other clones do, though.” You whispered, “So, I’m sorry too. We are free enough.”
Hunter let out a long sigh, running a hand down his face, “But the thing is, I don’t want you to lose hope that we can lead a better life. Sure, we’re soldiers and we’re trained from the very beginning for war, but what about when that war ends?” A small smile tugged at his lips, “We’re still gonna need someone who can find a life for us outside of the war.”
Slowly, you matched his smile.
I see this life, like a swinging vine
“Clone force ninety nine,” An admiral drawled, looking down at a device in his hand as he spoke, “A new mission has arisen that appears to be in need of your… special qualities.”
None of you did much as wavered from the line you all stood firmly at attention, eyes trained straight ahead.
“I will not lie to you,” He continued, “There is a high chance that some of you will not make it back from the mission.”
All around you, you noticed your brother's muscles tense at the same time yours did. It was something that nobody but one of you would have been able to pick up on.
“Sir,” Hunter spoke in an authoritative tone, eyes not leaving the spot he was staring at straight ahead, “Permission to speak?”
From the corner of your eye, you noticed the admiral's eyebrow quirk up in shock- and quite possibly some curiosity- before nodding his head once, “Proceed.”
“With all due respect, sir, I do not feel comfortable sending my squad on a mission with odds that are against any one of them not returning.”
You sucked in a sharp breath. Never would you have expected Hunter to talk back to an admiral. Your brother was usually the one that tried to keep you all from speaking out against those in power.
“Is that so?” It was unclear what he was thinking just from his tone.
Hunter swallowed thickly, “It is, sir.”
“Well,” The admiral took slow steps until he was right in front of Hunter, forcing the man to look at him, “It’s too bad I wasn’t asking then. Isn’t it?”
Swing my heart across the line
You thought they had been lying, all those stories you had been told. About how it all happened in slow motion, what felt like the end of your life.
But there you were, falling to the ground too slowly to be possible, the only thing you were able to hear being your own, ragged breathing. And even though you knew all of your brothers were screaming from above you, you couldn’t hear them through the vast fog of your own breaths.
Next, your vision blurred. You weren’t able to see the way they huddled into a protective circle around your limp body immediately. Nor could you notice the way they shot at the thousands of droids with much more accuracy than before, their own rage and horror at what had happened to you consuming them completely.
Tech was the only one to break the circle, dropping down onto his knees beside you and beginning to assess the damage that the blaster wound in your stomach was causing.
“-get her back to the ship!” Finally, his voice was pushing through to your ears, “We need to get her medical attention immediately!”
“Wrecker!” Hunter didn't hesitate with beginning to bark orders, “Pick her up and get run as fast as you can go the ship- we’ll cover you!”
Vaguely, somewhere far away, you felt your body be lifted with surprising delicacy from the ground, and you were jostled back and forth slightly while being cradled to a large chest that was attached to a body that had taken off towards where you had all left the ship.
“W-Wrecker���” You could barely even mumble out his name before your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you passed out in his arms.
And in my face is flashing signs, seek it out and ye shall find
Hunter let out a long sigh, dropping his head into his hands and harshly rubbing at the dark circles that rested under his eyes.
He was sitting on a chair next to the bed you lay unconscious on- where you had been lying unconscious for days after they had rushed you back to Komino.
“You need to get sleep,” Crosshair hissed from where he lent on the wall opposite of his brother.
The man shook his head stubbornly, dropping his hands into his lap and leaning forward on his knees, “No.” he grunted, “I need to be here for her.”
Crosshair rolled his eyes at your brother's stubbornness, “I’ll look after her,” He promised with a small scowl, “You’ll do her no good sitting here, half dead.”
The two of them had already forced Wrecker and Tech to go back to their room and get at least a few hours of sleep before they allowed them to visit you again.
After another moment's hesitation, Hunter reluctantly nodded and slowly pushed himself off, clapping the other man’s shoulder on the way out, “Thank you.” He said genuinely.
He only nodded in return, both of them knowing that he didn’t need to be thanked for looking out for you.
Old, but I'm not that old, young, but I'm not that bold
A groan left your lips as you lightly took Tech by the face and pushed him away from you, “I’m fine,” You complained to your brother, “Stop hovering.”
The man only pursed his lips and continued checking your vitals, “I will be the judge of that.” He determined.
“It was just a shot,” You groaned again, throwing your head back against the pillows, “It’s happened to all of us- so it’s no different than any other time.”
“That doesn’t make us worry any less, and you know it.” Hunter grunted, crossing his arms over his chest from where he stood at the foot of your bed.
“Well, it should.” You grumbled, crossing your arms over your own chest and sinking down on the bed.
“I, for one-“ Wreckers voice boomed.
Crosshair flinched with a small scowl at the sudden volume of it, “Quiet down, you big moron.” He hissed at the man.
Wrecker frowned in offense, “Hey-“
Despite the circumstances, a small smile pulled at your lips at the sight of your two brothers bickering. A sight so familiar, that it was even slightly comforting in a time like that.
And I don't think the world is sold on just doing what we're told
All around you, clones shot after you and your brothers as you wove in and out of trees as quickly as you could, ducking and dodging out of the way of the dangerously close blaster fire.
You had no idea what was happening, but you had all been on a supposedly simple mission when the other clones started shooting at the jedi that accompanied you all, soon turning on you as well.
Echo, the newest member of your squad, pushed you to the side as you ran side by side just in time for something to go flying right where your head had just been.
It was impossible to even manage a nod of thanks as your arms pumped faster and you pushed your legs harder to try and get yourselves all out of there.
“We need to get out of here!” Hunter shouted over all the chaos, coming up right beside you, and you could practically see his wide, panicked eyes, even from behind his mask.
“Quick!” You pointed out a cliff just up ahead, “We have to jump!”
All around you, you knew the others were hesitating, but Hunter nodded from beside you, trusting you wholeheartedly. You would never even suggest something like that if you didn’t believe that you could all survive it.
“You heard her, let’s go!” He ordered, jumping off the side first.
I feel something so right, doing the wrong thing
You all sat in a tense silence in the Marauder, each deep in your own thoughts that you couldn’t seem to escape from.
Why had the clones started shooting at the jedi- your allies- your friends? If it had been some sort of order, then why hadn’t you all heard of it? Why hadn’t you followed it?
There was one thing you knew for sure now, though. You were wanted by the republic, meaning you were now on the run from the only life you had ever known.
Of course, you had done the right thing by not shooting at the jedi, but then why did everyone else do it? Why would they ever betray them like that?
You knew you always talked about freedom, but this was not what you ever had in mind. You never would have wished for anything remotely like this. Not in a million years.
And I feel something so wrong, doing the right thing
You ducked your head, allowing your hood to fall further over your face, “I don’t like this,” You mumbled, anxiously rubbing at your wrists, “There’s clones everywhere.”
“We needed to get some fuel.” Tech sighed from beside you, “There was nowhere else we could have made it to.”
“We just have to lay low until it’s time to go.” Echo hopped in, eyes skillfully sweeping over the area as he spoke.
This didn’t feel right. Having to hide from the people that not too long ago, had been on your side. From people that hadn’t been hunting you down for the sole purpose of not shooting down your friends.
I couldn't lie, couldn't lie, couldn't lie
“I’m scared,” You admitted in a whisper, dropping your head back against the wall as you stared out the window into the endless area of stars.
Crosshair didn’t respond, just glanced at you before looking back out at the view.
“I don’t know what we’re supposed to do.” You whispered.
“We’re supposed to survive,” He drawled, “And right now, that means going from planet to planet until this all settles down. There’s nothing we can do about it.”
“No, I know that,” You sighed, “I just don’t like it.” You admitted.
He shrugged stiffly, “You don’t have to like it,” he grumbled, “You just have to do it.”
Everything that kills me makes me feel alive
It made you sick to watch. The way they marched through the streets while fireworks went off everywhere, announcing that the war was over.
As if they hadn’t just gunned down hundreds- if not thousands- of the most powerful beings in the galaxy. As if they hadn’t just taken away the galaxies greatest source of protection.
“This is terrible,” Echo whispered in horror from beside you, “Do all these citizens really not know what happened?”
You shrugged, “Or they just don’t care.”
The man shook his head, “No, no, I can’t believe that. Because if we believe that, then we’ve lost the only thing we have left. Our hope.”
You gave him a tight lipped smile in return, not bothering to tell him that you were afraid that hope he talked about had long since fled from your heart.
Lately, I've been, I've been losing sleep
“Can't sleep?” Unlike last time, you were the one initiating the question to Hunter.
The man’s head snapped up, before relaxing when he noticed it was just you. He shook his head with an exhausted sigh, “Want to, but can't.”
“Too many thoughts?” You asked in understanding.
“Too many thoughts.” He agreed tiredly.
A small frown pulled at your lips and you walked over to where he sat, ignoring his furrowed eyebrows of confusion and took his hand, pulling him to his feet.
“You’re going to bed,” You stated, dragging him back to his room, “Whether you like it or not.”
“I’m not tired-“
You effectively cut him off with the glare you threw over your shoulder, “Either you go to bed like this, the easy way. Or the hard way, where I knock you out. That way, you’re forced to sleep.”
He climbed into bed with little complaints after that, “You go to bed, too.” He yawned loudly as soon as his head hit the pillow.
The first smile in what felt like years tugged on your lips, “I will, don’t worry.”
Dreaming about the things that we could be
“So,” Wrecker asked loudly, “This is freedom?”
You sighed, drumming your fingers against the side of the cargo crate, “This is freedom.” You echoed.
He frowned a bit, “I expected it to be better than this.” He said sadly.
You gave him a sympathetic smile, reaching over and squeezing his shoulder, “You and me both, Wreck. You and me both.”
But baby, I've been, I've been praying hard
“Look what I found!” Wrecker announced excitedly, bounding into the room that you all sat around.
You all glanced up with curious expressions, being met with the sight of your grinning brother holding a deck of cards, “We can play!” He cheered.
Echo sighed slightly, “Wrecker, we have work to do-“
You watched sadly as the man deflated a bit at his words, and unconsciously decided to come to his rescue.
“Hey, now,” You coaxed, “One game couldn’t hurt, right? We all deserve a break.”
Reluctantly, one by one, everyone gave it, slowly sitting down around a table and letting Wrecker be joyful as he got to pass out the cards and you all relaxed for the first time in what felt like forever, allowing yourselves to get lost in the game.
Said, "No more counting dollars, we'll be counting stars"
You walked side by side with your brothers through a market on the new planet that you had all holed up on, falling into the routine that you had built up with all the past planets during your time on the run.
Hunter, Crosshair, and Echo were sent to scope out the place and find you all a practical and safe place to live for the next few days. You and Wrecker were tasked with finding the food. Leaving Tech to be in charge of researching everything he could about the place to better be able to fit in.
Though it wasn’t the most stable or reliable plan ever, it had gotten the six of you through everything so far. And despite freedom not being what you thought it would be, at least you would be able to spend it with your brothers by your side.
Padawans 🧡- @spidyyparker @bananadragonblog @femalemarvelself @i-writes-things @kiyomi-uchiha777
#book places 1 year event#platonic#platonic imagine#x reader#star wars#star wars x reader platonic#star wars x reader#wrecker x reader#wrecker x reader platonic#wrecker x sister reader#tech x reader#tech x reader platonic#tech x sister reader#hunter x reader#hunter x reader platonic#hunter x sister reader#echo x reader#echo x reader platonic#echo x sister reader#crosshair x reader#crosshair x reader platonic#x sister reader#crosshair x sister reader#song imagine#song inspired fic#song fic#bad batch#bad batch x reader#bad batch x sister reader#bad batch x reader platonic
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“Where the stars can shine”
Summary: the fighting never stops, and it never will so it’s in everyone’s best interest to find the calm moments when you can.
Pairing: The Bad Batch x padawan!reader (OF COURSE THIS IS PLATONIC)
Warning: none just so much fluff!
Word count: 1261 (not proof read but what did you expect)
Notes: IM WATCHING THE NEW BAD BATCH SEASON AFTER THIS! So this is my way of manifesting everyone being alright to end the show 🥲
The war never ended, nor would it for anyone who has endured it and its intensity.
One fight always rolled into another and nothing could be done to stop it. The only way to get through it was to find the little cracks in all the bad. The place where the sun could shine and the flowers could grow.
Or in this case, the stars could twinkle.
"This is already too high for me." Wrecker stated loudly hauling himself up the side of the Marauder.
Crosshair, who was currently under Wreck scoffed to himself before clambering up the side like it was nothing. "You never seem to have that problem when we're in the air." He quipped.
"Well I'm inside then." He whined finally being assisted by Hunter who had the small hands of Omega making sure he didn't fall.
You could only laugh at the scene, leaning back on Echo you could feel him laugh too.
"Who do you think's falling off first?" You ask with a smile that was masked by the moonlight.
"The real question is," Echo leaned forward, surprised a little bit that the top of the marauders could fit 5 fully grown clones plus omega and the Jedi padawan. "Who's going to be pushed off first."
You looked back towards him and in an instant you spoke the same word together. "Tech."
Speaking of the devil, Tech's voice rang out as you looked over to where he had an arm pointing something out beyond the horizon.
"-and if you look there you'll be able to see Endor"
Omega's eyes lit up brighter than they have been in the past few days, nothing seemed to be going right for that bad batch no matter how much they tried.
"Have you guys been there?" Omegas eyes scanned the rest of her family that sat gazing with her. The sky on this backwater planet was surprisingly clear, clearer than you thought it would be.
"Eh once or twice." Hunter shrugged it off with a smile as all that Omega could do was gawk up at her big brother.
"Thats an understatement." Crosshair added quietly from beside you. With a nudge to your shoulder he added. "That meat-head over there blew up more than half the forest and got us kicked out. For life."
"Hey!" Wrecker let go of his strong grip of the Marauder with one hand to wave it at the sniper.
Omega giggled giving you a glance as you could help but laugh at the exchange. "Have you?"
You could only smile at the found memories the question brought you. Landing with your Master on a planet you've never even heard of at that time. The trees the towered over you and the abundant shades of green that you didn't even know existed. The faint sound of your master laughing as you stared up from the base of the tall trees fathomed by the hight.
"Yeah I went once I think during the Clone Wars. It was beautiful there." You spoke, the smiles spread from Omegas face to Hunters as he watched you retell the fond memories.
"Well I also did kinda crash into a tree there but other than that the rest was beautiful." Echo hide his laugh behind you as you told the more embarrassing part of the trip.
"I think I did hear about that one." The ex arc trooper spoke out. You shoved him back slightly as your gaze returned to the stars above.
"Now if you all turn your gazes eastward you can spot the Orion constellation which should also mean the Canis Major is pretty close." Tech pointed upward now, his own eyes locked tightly on the stars.
"That one has the brightest star in the whole galaxy right?" Omega filled in, whether Tech wanted to continue himself or not he could only beam down at the girl, who clearly heard this from him before.'
You smiled also recounting when Tech probably told the group for the first time.
The bounty hunters came from nowhere that day, Omega gripped on the back of Echo's armor plate with tears streaking down her face clearly scared.
Tech stood above you the, a data pad scanned over you as Hunter tried to apply some pressure to a wound you sustained on your side. Wrecker and Cross stood around the group, the sniper's gaze fixed on the darken horizon beyond.
Panicked breath sounded out and flown into the barren night, as much as you didn't want to scare Omega more you really could help it. You were scared yourself.
"Do you see that over there." Tech took your free arm in his hand and pointed up to the looming sky with it. "That really bright star?"
You were pulled back from your thoughts with the slightest nudge from Crosshair who spared you a glance, nobody else seemed to notice his movements
"I want to go to all of those planets one day." The words were light from Omega, a smile still evident in her voice.
"You'll definitely need to learn to fly then." You added shooting a look at Tech who finally spared a glance at someone else and was immersed in taking pictures of the different planets and constellations.
"If you can find another ship." Tech said mater-o-factly with a finger in the air.
"Aweeee Tech." Omega did the only thing she could think of, huge tooka eyes found Tech and with the pout of her bottom lip you could almost see the moment Tech cracked.
"More contemplation will be needed for that"
Though Omega wasn't disappointed for long as Crosshair whispered to her. "That's practically a yes."
Hunter laughed now shoving Crosshair back into a lying down position. He noted that his brother looked quite different without his armor, but it was a sight he could get used to.
Opening his mouth Tech was about to defend himself before a snore racked through the air.
"Put someone else to sleep too Techy." Crosshair jabbed a finger at wrecker who still seemed to gripped the ship tightly.
You couldn't blame him though, and is wasn't just because of Tech talking, but you did insist the stars and planets were best to see in the late night. A yawn stifled through you, Echo wasn't the warmest person but the arms that wrapped around you from the clone seemed to do it.
"It's not even that late." Omega protested but her heavy eyelids seemed to contradict her own words.
"No no, we all can't fall asleep up here or it's going to be a pain getting down." Omega curled up into Hunters chest as he spoke. He slowly started to get up.
"One of us should get Wreck." Your own eyelids battled against you as you fought to sit up.
"On it." Crosshair was the last person who you thought would offer but as his leg extended you watched Wrecker rolled over the side.
His startled yell was masked by the thud of him hitting the soft grass below.
"See it wasn't even that far." The skipper shrugged pushing himself over the edge and landing gracefully with even using the side to get down.
You chuckled as you rolled your eyes at the brothers were up to their old antics.
The chill air was a good contrast to the heated days that came before, so much fighting it seemed that it would never end.
Moments like these would always be cherished, and surprisingly Tech wasn't the one to get pushed off the Marauder.
_____________________________________
Taglist:
@arctrooper69 @thereforepizza @padawancat97 @pb-jellybeans @floffytofu @verybadatwriting @solstraalaa @ray-rook @gregorsmissingarmor
#star wars#star wars clone wars#the clone wars#clone wars#the clone boys#my writing#toska-writes#clone boys#reader insert#platonic reader#the bad batch x reader#the bad batch x platonic!reader#hunter bad batch#tbb omega#big brother crosshair#crosshair x platonic!reader#tech tcw#tech bad batch#wrecker tbb#tbb echo#platonic paring#platonic!reader
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Breaking Point || Simon "Ghost" Riley
Summary: Request -I've got this itch for some hurt/comfort with Simon Ghost Riley and the reader from TF 141. Reader's this badass sniper, always on top of her game. But one day she wakes up feeling under the weather. She decides to push through training, but things take a turn when she starts feeling faint during drills after Price gives her shit for not training hard... Read Rest Here
A/N: Ahhh this was challenging but so much fun to right. Please let me know your thoughts below :) Got a little carried away with this one!
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader, TF 141 x Platonic Female Reader
Word Count: 7.7k +
TW: Heat Stroke, Flu, Illness, general COD warnings.
Four years ago, you were a part of a special training assignment with the American Navy, deployed in a remote and sweltering military base off the coast of Africa. It was here in the middle of the grueling drills and relentless heat that you caught the eye of Captain John Price. Your prowess with a rifle was unmistakable. Every target set before you fell without fail. But what truly set you apart was your demeanor: you kept your head down, focused intensely on the task at hand, never boasting about your undeniable skills.
Captain Price who was always on the lookout for exceptional talent to add to Task Force 141, saw in you a rare combination of humility and sharpshooting expertise. Recognizing your potential he pulled some strings, navigated through the complexities of the American Military bureaucracy, and somehow successfully recruited you into the prestigious ranks of TF 141. This marked the beginning of a new chapter in your life. One that would challenge your resilience and skill more than any previous assignment.
Joining TF 141 wasn't just a promotion. It was being welcomed into a family of elite soldiers. While Soap and Gaz took an immediate liking to you, appreciating your wit and marksmanship, Ghost was initially more reserved. His trust was not easily won. It had to be earned on the battlefield not just through training exercises back at base.
Your defining moment came during a perilous mission in the frozen expanses of Russia within your first year with the 141. The mission had quickly gone sideways. Ghost found himself in the deadly crosshairs of an enemy sniper. With the situation deteriorating rapidly and no clear shot available to him your actions in those critical seconds would forever change the dynamics of your relationship with Ghost. From a concealed position you took out the opposing sniper with a single, precise shot, saving Ghost’s life.
This act erased any last reservations Ghost might have held. From then on he saw you not just as another sharpshooter but as an indispensable member of the team, his team. Your ability to make life-saving decisions under intense pressure proved your strength. Not just in terms of physical prowess but in intellectual and tactical acumen as well.
Since then you have become an integral part of TF 141's operations. Your journey from a promising recruit noticed by Captain Price to a pivotal player in some of the team’s most critical missions has been defined by relentless dedication and the deep trust you've earned from some of the military's toughest warriors.
The shrill beep of the alarm slices through the stillness of your room dragging you from the shallow waters of restless sleep into the harsh reality of dawn. For a moment as you blink against the dim light filtering through the barracks' curtains, the room spins slightly—a disorienting dance that forces you to close your eyes again.
You’ve always been the type who never gets sick. The one who breezes through the cold season unscathed while others succumb around you. Your robust health has been a point of pride, a badge of reliability in TF 141. But this morning something is different, and you know it immediately.
Your body aches profoundly, each muscle groaning with a weariness that feels bone-deep, and your head pounds with the relentless rhythm of a dull, throbbing drum. Swallowing feels like dragging sandpaper down your throat. An unfortunate wave of nausea rolls through you as you sit up. It has to be the flu, you think grimly, recognizing the unmistakable and unforgiving symptoms.
Despite the clear signs of illness, the thought of calling in sick doesn’t even cross your mind. It’s not just about pride. There’s also a deep-seated belief that you can handle anything, a belief that has carried you through countless challenges.
With a heavy, determined sigh, you push yourself off the bed. Standing unsteadily for a moment, you use the wall to keep yourself upright. Today is not the day to show weakness, not the day to break your perfect record of health. You decide to power through. To dress and join your team for the morning drills under the rising sun. The thought of letting them down by your absence is more daunting than the physical discomfort threatening to overwhelm you.As you gear up, each movement measured and more deliberate than usual, you steel yourself for the day ahead. Today, you'll prove—not just to your team, but to yourself—that not even the flu can keep you from standing alongside your comrades.
Stepping out into the cool, pre-dawn air, you allow yourself a moment to feel the chill against your fevered skin. It’s oddly refreshing, a natural contrast to the unnatural heat of your illness. It’s bound to be short lived though as the sun’s rays already feel warm on your skin. The training field is a short walk away and with each step you rehearse the day’s routine in your mind. A mantra against the physical discomfort.
As the briefing wraps up and the team begins to disperse to their respective training stations you feel the weight of Ghost’s gaze right on you. Despite the heaviness of your limbs and the fog in your brain, this unspoken solidarity from your teammates, especially Ghost, gives you a sliver of strength.
With each step towards the day’s first drill your resolve hardens. You're not just fighting the flu; you're fighting to maintain the trust and respect you’ve earned. Today, the battlefield is here, within yourself, and you're determined to prove your mettle. You are keenly aware of being one of the few women in the unit and the additional scrutiny that comes with it. It's crucial that you show no weakness even as your body wages its quiet rebellion. Your head pounds with a relentless ache. Your limbs are heavy. And every breath feels like an effort. Despite these symptoms screaming flu, you've chosen silence—no complaints, no excuses.
When you arrive at the training field the usual bustle of activity sharply contrasts with your internal struggle. Everyone is focused on what needs to be done, their attention solely on performance. As Captain Price begins the morning briefing his voice sounds like a distant echo in your ears drowned out by the pounding in your head. The day's challenges loom large, testing your limits before you've even started.
As you make your way to the lineup, the crisp morning air begins to turn warm, almost uncomfortable warm already. Soap falls into step beside you, his familiar grin lighting up his face as he launches into the light-hearted banter that typically marks your mornings together.
“Morning! Ready to outshoot us all again today?” Soap teases before giving you a gentle nudge with his elbow, expecting your usual lively retort.
You manage only a weak smile, one that doesn't quite reach your eyes, and nod faintly. The flu has buried your usual quick wit under a heavy weight of fatigue and discomfort. It takes all your effort just to keep standing without revealing how much you're struggling.
Soap’s smile quickly falters at your lack of reply, his eyes narrowing in concern. “You okay, lass?” he asks. His tone shifting to something more serious.
You nod again, swallowing hard against the surge of nausea. “Yeah, just tired,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. You're careful not to reveal the full extent of your ailment, not here, not in front of your team.
From a short distance away Ghost's intense gaze follows the exchange. Though his presence is more subdued, and his demeanor reserved, his attention to detail remains sharp. You can feel his concern even without words. His posture is alert, his body tensed as if ready to act at a moment's notice.
Ghost offers no overt gestures of worry; he doesn't need to. The slight tightening of his stance is a silent signal of his readiness to intervene. His eyes, just visible through the slits of his mask, never wander, tracking your every move with a vigilance that speaks volumes. You know he's always watching out for his team, and today, his protective focus is unmistakably fixed on you.
"Alright, let's warm up! Start with sprints!" Captain Price commands. His voice cuts through the morning air, decisive and clear. You line up with your teammates, the grass cool and slightly damp under your boots. The whistle pierces the calm, and you propel yourself forward. Each step is a battle, your muscles protesting every movement. Yet you push through the fatigue and dizziness.
After sprints the drills shift to push-ups. Down on the warm, wet grass you feel the earth against your palms, stabilizing yet unforgiving. You count each repetition, your muscles burning and a thin layer of sweat forming, which only seems to heighten the chills that intermittently rack your body.
Sit-ups come next and with each crunch a wave of nausea threatens your composure. The world tilts slightly with each lift, blurring at the edges. Captain Price’s footsteps approach. His presence looming. "Let’s see that strength, Y/N! Don’t slack now!" he urges. The encouragement is meant to inspire but it feels like a heavy mantle on your already burdened shoulders.
“Yes sir.” You manage to get out between crunches.
As you struggle through each exercise you can't ignore the hot flashes followed by chills, the hallmark of flu symptoms. Each movement is more taxing than the last and the temptation to give in and rest grows stronger. However, your determination doesn't waver. You are here to prove yourself, to demonstrate that neither flu nor fatigue can break your resolve. You need to showcase the unwavering strength of not just a skilled sniper, but a resilient soldier.
As the whistle blows, Captain Price directs everyone to break into their respective teams for more specialized, team-based drills. You find yourself grouped with Ghost, Gaz, and Soap. Your usual teammates and three of the unit's most competent operatives. Your heart sinks a bit. Their proficiency and teamwork are unmatched and under normal circumstances you would feel invigorated by the challenge. Today, however, it feels like an uphill battle.
"Alright, team," Gaz announces with a nod, "we’re up for the relay sprints and tactical positioning exercises. We need to be sharp and synchronized. Let's show these assholes how it's done."
You nod silently, attempting to muster a semblance of enthusiasm. Soap claps you on the shoulder giving you a reassuring smile, likely mistaking your subdued quietness for focused determination rather than the fatigue that’s slowly overtaking you.
The drills begin with relay sprints. You watch as Soap takes off with his usual speed. His figure swiftly cutting through the warming afternoon air. Gaz follows, moving with practiced ease. Then it’s your turn. As you push off your legs feel as though they are wading through molasses, your usually sharp agility significantly dulled by the flu’s tenacious grip. Each step feels heavier than the last as your breathing becomes ragged and unsteady.
Compounding your discomfort, the gear you're clad in feels unbearably hot against your skin. The layers that are usually a second nature in your fieldwork now seem like a furnace, trapping in every ounce of body heat. Your temperature rises not just from the fever, but also from the exhaustive exertion and the insulated heat from your tactical vest. Sweat beads on your forehead, not entirely from the physical activity but also from the early signs of heat exhaustion—your body’s desperate attempt to cool down under the layers.
Despite feeling increasingly overheated and nearly overwhelmed, you hide your discomfort well. Your face remains stoic, betraying none of the battle raging within your body against the heat and illness. To an outsider you might just appear intensely focused. But beneath the surface you're fighting a much tougher battle, trying to keep pace while your body screams for relief.
Ghost, from his vantage point, watches closely. His sharp eyes catch the subtle signs that others might miss—the slight falter in your step, the way you're breathing a little too hard after your sprint. His gaze intensifies with concern etched across his face as he monitors your every move, aware that something isn’t right but waiting for you to signal if you need assistance.
When you pass the baton to Ghost your hand trembles slightly. He catches it and for a brief moment your eyes meet. There's a flash of concern across his usually impassive face, a subtle shift that speaks volumes. He nods at you before taking off, his movements fluid and precise, yet his mind clearly not fully on the drill. His glance back at you is quick, discreet, checking to ensure you’re still on your feet.
As the exercises continue with the tactical positioning drills, the demands increase. This part of the training requires quick movements and even quicker thinking as each team member needs to cover different angles and work together seamlessly. You position yourself to cover Ghost’s flank, aiming to maintain your usual high standards. However, the world begins to tilt alarmingly. Your vision swims and the ground beneath you feels as if it’s shifting forcing you to steady yourself against a nearby tree.
Ghost, now at a slight distance, turns sharply in response to your stagger. His eyes narrow, not with disapproval, but with intensified concern. He makes a subtle move to close the distance between you, his instincts as a protector kicking in. Yet, he stops himself, respecting your pride and your ability to signal if you need help. He positions himself strategically, so he’s close enough to intervene quickly if needed. His body tensed and ready to act.
“Y/N, you alright?” Gaz’s voice suddenly cuts through your fog of discomfort, and you realize you’ve attracted more attention than you intended.
You straighten up quickly, nodding more sharply than necessary. “Just lost my footing for a second,” you lie. Managing a tight smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.
Ghost, who has now subtly shifted his position to provide you with both physical and moral support, keeps his gaze fixed on you for a moment longer. He doesn’t call you out on your obvious discomfort. Instead, he gives you a nod, an unspoken communication between you two. It’s his way of saying he’s there, just in case, without putting you on the spot in front of the others.
His presence helps you gather your strength to continue. Despite the unease churning inside you knowing that Ghost is watching over you with such attentiveness gives you a small, but significant boost of confidence. You focus on the drills, pushing through the nausea and instability, bolstered by the knowledge that help is just a few steps away if you truly need it.
You begin to feel the oppressive heat bearing down on you more intensely than before. Each breath feels like you're inhaling fire. And the tactical gear, usually a familiar weight, now feels like an unbearable burden. Trapping too much heat against your body. More and more sweat beads on your forehead mixing with the slight dizziness that refuses to fade. The discomfort is escalating and despite your best efforts to mask it the heat is becoming unmanageable.
Ghost was still maintaining a discreet distance, watches you with sharp, observant eyes. He senses the subtle changes in your posture and the slight grimace that you can't quite hide each time you move. His concern deepens but he waits for a sign from you, respecting your pride and your position within the team.
As the drills continue you find it increasingly difficult to focus. The world seems to shimmer with heat around the edges and you feel a wave of nausea stronger than before. Recognizing that you might be in more trouble than you initially thought you catch Ghost's gaze across the field. It's a silent plea for understanding, a subtle acknowledgment that you do need his help after all.
Ghost responds immediately, his instincts as your LT kicking into high gear. He crosses the distance between you with a few quick strides. His approach discreet yet filled with purpose. “Everything okay?” he asks quietly. His voice low enough that only you can hear. It’s clear he’s prepared to step in, to offer whatever support you need without drawing unwanted attention to your struggle.
Your attempt to respond is less than reassuring. "Heat… too, it’s not the... can't—why can’t the air?" you mumble. Your words tangling into an unintelligible mess, a clear indicator that you are far from alright.
The expression behind Ghost's mask tightens, his protective instincts flaring as he assesses your condition with even greater alarm. Your face is flushed from more than just the heat. It's clear you're struggling significantly under the weight of your gear and the relentless sun.
At that moment Captain Price's voice cuts sharply through the air, his tone laced with the urgency of the drill. "Let's move it, Ghost, Y/N!" he commands from a distance, seemingly oblivious to the severity of your distress. His focus is on the continuity and discipline of the training. Unaware that one of his own is teetering on the edge of collapse.
Ghost’s response is swift and decisive. Without drawing attention to the situation, he steadies you with one arm, his other hand signaling subtly to Captain Price that something isn’t right. "Give us a moment, sir," he calls back firmly, his tone respectful yet insistent enough to convey the seriousness of the issue without alarming the entire unit.
He turns back to you, his gaze intense. "We need to get you out of the sun," he states quietly, directing you towards a shaded area nearby. His hand remains supportively on your back, guiding but not pushing. His presence a steady force as you stagger slightly under your own weight.
Once under the shade, Ghost helps you remove your tactical vest, easing the burden of the heat trapped against your body. The cooler air hits your skin, offering a momentary relief that you hadn't realized you needed so desperately. But as your body starts to cool an unexpected shiver runs through you, violent and uncontrollable. It feels as though the temperature has plummeted, though the day remains swelteringly hot.
"Ghost," you stutter out between shivers, "it's so cold." Your teeth chatter, a stark contrast to the sweat that still beads on your forehead. The sudden coldness is disorienting, confusing, and you clutch at your arms in an attempt to warm yourself.
"Simon," you manage to say between shivers. His actual name slipping out amidst the confusion—an unusual slip that does not escape his notice. Ghost, or Simon as you now call him, recognizes the gravity of the situation immediately. The usual protocols and formalities fade into the background as he prioritizes your wellbeing above all else.
You blink rapidly trying to focus as your surroundings become a blur. The ground seems to tilt beneath you for a second time and a wave of darkness edges your vision. Simon watches you closely with an arm around your waist in case. His trained eyes catching every sign of your deteriorating condition.
“Hang on,” he urges. His voice steady but the concern is palpable. Before he can offer more reassurance your knees buckle beneath you. Your body finally giving way to the overwhelming symptoms. And suddenly the world goes dark in your eyes.
Simon catches you before you hit the ground his arms securing you firmly yet gently. “Medic!” he shouts. The urgency in his voice cutting through the morning air without a hint of hesitation. Captain Price who had been overseeing the drills from a short distance, turns sharply at the sound. His quick assessment of the situation bringing him running.
Price approaches just as Simon adjusts his hold on you, bringing your body to the ground so you were laying. “What happened?” Price asks. His voice a mix of command and concern.
“Heat stroke, I think—she’s out,” Simon responds curtly. His gaze fixed on you as he checks your pulse and looks for any sign of recovery. Your brief moments of unconsciousness are fleeting but each second is critical.
As you flutter your eyes open, confusion mingles with the need to communicate. “Simon... it’s all spinning,” you murmur with your voice overly weak. The use of his first name again in such a vulnerable state only cements his resolve to get you the help you need immediately.
As Simon kneels beside you he carefully supports your head, his eyes searching yours for any sign of recognition. “Can you tell me where you are?” he asks again. His voice a mix of firmness and concern trying to assess the level of your disorientation.
You blink slowly but the effort to focus feeling monumental. Your gaze drifts over the familiar yet strangely distant figures of Soap and Gaz before returning to Simon. “We're... in Bosnia?” you murmur hesitantly, the name of a recent mission location slipping out, completely unrelated to your current setting on the training field.
Simon’s expression tightens, a flicker of worry crossing his features as he realizes the depth of your confusion. He exchanges a quick, grave look with Captain Price who has been monitoring the situation closely. The incorrect answer confirms the seriousness of your condition, prompting Price to look around, expecting the medics to be approaching swiftly.
However, as Simon scans the area his frustration mounts. The medics, possibly delayed or misinformed about the severity of the situation, are nowhere in sight. Realizing that waiting even a moment longer could jeopardize your well-being he makes a decisive call.
"Not fast enough," Simon mutters under his breath. His protective instincts overriding protocol. Without waiting for the medics to arrive he gently but firmly scoops you up in his arms. His movements are swift and determined as he begins to rush you towards the infirmary. His concern for your immediate safety taking precedence over everything else.
Captain Price, upon seeing Simon’s sudden movement, understands the gravity of the decision and immediately acts. "Clear the way!” he shouts, commanding the attention of everyone on the field.
As Simon carries you, the world around you becomes a blur of motion and sound, but his steady grip provides a reassuring constant. "Hang on love, we're almost there. Just stay with me," he urges. His voice a soothing presence amid the confusion.
With each step Simon takes your sense of time and space dims, the urgency of his stride and the rhythm of his heartbeat blending into the background noise of the base. As you approach the infirmary you see figures moving quickly to prepare for your arrival.
Simon’s pace doesn’t falter until he reaches the medical staff waiting at the infirmary doors. As he gently hands you over to their care his gaze lingers on yours filled with concern and an unspoken promise of unwavering support, no matter the circumstances.
In the cool, sterile environment of the infirmary, Ghost stands a vigilant watch beside your bed. His gaze locked onto your face as the medical team works rapidly to stabilize your condition. The typical stoic mask he wears has fallen away, replaced by an expression etched with deep concern. Each furrow of his brow and tight set of his jaw reveals more than usual concern. It speaks of a profound fear that he rarely allows others to see.
As the medical staff step back momentarily to fetch additional supplies, Ghost's role shifts subtly but significantly. He transforms from a mere observer into an active caretaker, a role those in TF 141 rarely witness. He picks up a damp cloth and gently wipes your forehead. His touch delicate and caring, betraying the roughness expected from his formidable field presence.
"Hey, love, can you hear me?" he murmurs. His voice soft and laden with a tenderness that surprises even him. The word 'love' slips out naturally. A term of endearment that he hasn't used lightly before. This slip, this small but significant deviation from his usual manner, is a clear sign of his deepening feelings. Feelings he might not have fully acknowledged until this very moment.
You blink slowly, responding to the sound of his voice. Ghost watches for any sign of recognition, any indication that you understand his presence. As you meet his gaze, there's a moment of relief that passes over his features. But it's quickly replaced by renewed worry as he continues to monitor your responses.
He is utterly overwhelmed. A feeling that's foreign to him. He's faced countless dangers without flinching but the sight of you so vulnerable stirs a fear in him that battlefield threats never have. He realizes perhaps more clearly than ever how deeply his feelings for you run. It's not just friendship or brotherly protection. It's something much deeper, more personal.
He stays close, his hand finding yours and giving it a reassuring squeeze. The contact is meant to comfort you but it also grounds him, reminding him that you're still here, still fighting. "Stay with me, okay?" he adds quietly, almost pleadingly. This is not just a command from a superior officer; it's a personal plea from someone who cares deeply.
Ghost's presence in the infirmary becomes a constant, a guardian ensuring that no detail is overlooked, no necessary treatment delayed. His commitment to your recovery is unwavering, his actions driven by a mix of professional duty and personal concern that has become inseparable. The realization that his feelings for you have evolved adds a new weight to every decision, every action he takes on your behalf.
A few hours later, the haze of confusion and illness that enveloped your mind begins to clear slightly. As your eyes flutter open, the stark white lights of the infirmary momentarily blind you, and the unfamiliar sounds of medical equipment beep rhythmically in the background. Disoriented, you try to recall the sequence of events that led to this moment.
Sitting beside your bed, Ghost notices the subtle signs of consciousness returning. He leans forward, his presence reassuring amidst the clinical surroundings. "Hey, you're awake," he says gently. His voice a soothing contrast to the beeping machines. "Take it easy. You gave us quite a scare out there."
As fragments of memory return—the unbearable heat of the training field, your faltering steps, the feeling of collapse—your face flushes with a mix of embarrassment and discomfort. The realization that you succumbed in front of your team, particularly because of a flu exacerbating the situation, is hard to accept.
Ghost reads the embarrassment in your expression and quickly addresses it. "Listen, there’s no need to feel embarrassed. You’re dealing with the flu on top of everything else. Heat stroke is serious and it’s a lot for anyone to handle. Especially when you’re already under the weather," he reassures you earnestly.
He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. His touch grounding. "Even the toughest soldiers need to take a step back sometimes. It’s okay to acknowledge that you’re human, that you have limits. It doesn't diminish your strength," he continues in your silence. His voice imbued with empathy and understanding.
Feeling the sincerity in his words helps ease some of your discomfort. "Thanks, Simon," you manage to whisper, your voice still weak but filled with gratitude. The informal use of his first name in such a vulnerable moment speaks volumes about the trust and comfort you’ve grown to have in him.
Simon offers a gentle smile. His eyes softening. "You’re always pushing yourself to be the best and that’s certainly admirable. But sometimes, taking care of yourself is part of being the best. Don’t blame yourself for this. I certainly don’t blame you for trying," he adds, affirming his support in you.
"Sleep now. Don’t worry about the rest for now. We’re all here for you," he suggests while still holding your hand, his steady presence a comforting constant as you drift back towards unconsciousness. His commitment to your well-being is clear not just as a teammate but as someone who cares deeply on a personal level.
As you close your eyes, comforted by his words and presence, you feel a profound sense of relief. Simon's quiet vigil lets you know that no matter what, you’re not alone. Periodically, he checks the IV line and adjusts the cold packs making sure to monitor your recovery closely.. Each time you stir or grimace in discomfort, he’s there, adjusting your position or simply offering a reassuring touch.
As the hours pass Ghost remains by your side, a silent sentinel. Even as you're asleep he doesn’t leave, instead pulling up a chair to sit beside your bed. Occasionally, other members of the team peek in offering quiet words of support. But it's clear Ghost has appointed himself your primary guardian during this vulnerable time.
This unexpected role of caretaker reveals a depth to Ghost that goes beyond his tactical prowess and battlefield grit. In the infirmary, with the soft hum of medical equipment in the background, his softer, caring nature comes to the forefront, showcasing a profound sense of loyalty and protectiveness towards his team. Especially towards you.
As the day's tension slowly ebbs away in the quiet of the infirmary, you sleep deeply, recovering from the ordeal. Ghost sits steadfast by your side. His focus is solely on you. His usually impassive gaze softened by concern. The door creaks open softly as Soap and Gaz walk in. Both their faces splitting into mischievous grins when they see Ghost in his uncharacteristic role as your caretaker.
“Never thought I’d see Ghost play the doting nurse,” Soap chuckles quietly. Trying to keep his voice low to avoid disturbing you. “What’s next? Will you be knitting her a sweater?”
Gaz joins in leaning against the door frame with a smirk playing on his lips, “Maybe a nice scarf to go with it, mate. Make sure it matches her eyes, yeah?” His comment draws a soft laugh from Soap. Their teasing lightening the atmosphere of the infirmary.
Their laughter, though subdued, is a needed release after the day’s stress. It’s filled with genuine affection and respect for both you and Ghost. They understand the stakes of such moments and the bonds they forge.
Ghost, not missing a beat, shoots them a pointed look. His response is tinged with his characteristic dry humor. "Keep it up, and you'll be on the next solo recon mission in the coldest part of Siberia," he replies. His tone firm but with a faint smirk betraying his amusement.
In the background Captain Price stands silently in the doorway. His observant eyes taking in the scene. He watches Ghost’s interactions with a discerning eye, noting the subtle softness in his usually stoic demeanor. Price is no stranger to the complexities of personal dynamics within his team. And he senses the potential implications of Ghost’s deepening concern for you. There’s a hint of understanding in his gaze, mixed with caution, as he ponders the path this could lead down.
As the laughter begins to die down Price steps forward, his presence commanding a subtle shift in the room’s atmosphere. He gives Soap and Gaz a brief nod, a clear signal that it’s time for them to leave. The moment for jokes has passed and it's time to restore some decorum. As they exit Soap can’t resist throwing one final teasing comment over his shoulder. “Take good care of her, Ghost!” he calls out as his tone is playful yet sincere.
Price remains a moment longer his gaze lingering on Ghost and then shifting to you, asleep and unaware of the exchange. There’s a quiet gravity to his demeanor, an unspoken reminder of his leadership role and his understanding of the deeper currents flowing beneath the surface of his team’s interactions.
Captain Price approaches Ghost, his footsteps quiet but purposeful. He pauses beside him, his voice low and measured to ensure privacy. "Simon," he begins. His tone serious but not without warmth, "you're handling this well and it's clear you care deeply. Just remember, maintaining balance is crucial." His eyes, steady and understanding, meet Ghost's, acknowledging the depth of his concern while gently reminding him of his broader responsibilities.
"Don't lose focus. We rely on you—not just for her, but for the whole team," Price continues, his voice softening slightly to underscore his supportive intent.
Ghost nods, the gravity of Price's words resonating with him. "Understood, sir," he responds, his tone reflecting both respect for Price's leadership and an acute awareness of the weight on his shoulders.
Price places a hand on Ghost's shoulder, a gesture that speaks of his care and mutual respect. "Keep me posted. If there's anything you need don't hesitate to ask," he adds. Emphasizing his role not just as a commander but as a supporter willing to provide resources rather than merely oversee.
"Will do, sir," Ghost says, his voice steady as he watches Price prepare to leave the infirmary. Price gives him one last affirming nod—an acknowledgment of Ghost's commitment and his understanding of the emotional complexities involved. As Price walks away his demeanor reflects as a leader who trusts his team to handle personal challenges with professionalism yet remains ready to step in if the balance shifts too far.
Once alone again Ghost turns back to you, his expression softening as he adjusts the blanket around you and checks the monitors to ensure everything is as it should be. In these quiet moments his demeanor reveals the profound loyalty and protectiveness he feels. Traits that define him just as much as his combat skills.
The room is quiet, the only sounds are the gentle beeping of the medical equipment and your steady breathing. In this sanctuary away from the battlefield's chaos, Ghost’s vigilance continues, a promise of unwavering support.
In the dimly lit infirmary, the soft beeps of the monitor blend with the quiet sounds of the night. Ghost sits closely by your side, his eyes tracing over your peaceful face, contrasting sharply with the day’s earlier tension. The room is calm now, the urgency has passed, but the weight of the day lingers in the air heavy with unspoken words.
Leaning closer Ghost watches you for a long moment. His expression a mix of concern and something softer, more vulnerable. He knows you can’t hear him, but the words slip out quietly anyway. A whisper meant only for you. "You’re killing me here, love," he murmurs. The hint of a smile touching his lips despite the worry in his eyes. It’s a rare admission. One that reveals just how deeply he’s been affected by your condition.
He sighs lightly, the sound almost lost in the quiet of the room. Adjusting the blanket around you one last time to ensure you’re as comfortable as possible, he finally leans back in his chair. His gaze remains fixed on you a moment longer as a guardian watching over you.
Realizing the lateness of the hour and the exhaustion settling into his bones Ghost decides he wasn’t willing to leave you yet. Not when you’d hardly regained consciousness and certainly not when you might need him upon waking. He shifts to make himself as comfortable as possible in the chair beside your bed, his body angled to keep you in sight.
As he settles in, his eyes slowly close but it’s clear he’s not completely given over to sleep. Even in rest, he’s alert, ready to wake at the slightest change in your condition. In this quiet vigil, his presence is both a promise and a protection. A steadfast commitment to be there for you when you finally do wake.
The night deepens around the two of you. The soft, rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor a constant in the otherwise still room. Ghost, in his chair, remains by your side. A figure in the dim light embodying both the warrior and the caretaker in this rare moment of peace.
As the first light of dawn begins to filter through the blinds of the infirmary your eyes flutter open greeting the new day with a mix of confusion and sluggish awareness. Initially, your vision is blurry, the shapes and colors of the room melding into indistinct forms. Gradually though your eyes adjust, and the figure slumped in the chair beside your bed comes into sharper focus. Ghost, asleep, his head resting awkwardly against the wall.
The sight of him so uncharacteristically vulnerable in sleep immediately warms your heart. Despite the residual fog clouding your mind a soft smile plays on your lips. "Ghost," you call out, your voice hoarse but audible enough to stir him from his light slumber.
At the sound of your voice Ghost snaps awake, instantly alert. He straightens up before rubbing the stiffness from his neck as he turns to face you. His eyes that displayed a flicker of reprieve meet yours. "Hey, you're awake," he says. His voice rough with sleep but tinged with unmistakable relief. "How are you feeling?"
"A lot better, thanks to you," you reply. Your voice was still weak but filled with gratitude. "You stayed all night?"
Ghost nods, a soft expression crossing his face as he hears your voice. This subtle return to normalcy reassures him. Warming his heart and letting him know you must be feeling a bit better to revert to familiar terms. "Yes, I stayed. Didn’t want you to wake up alone here," he replies. His tone gentle. Ghost’s eyes scan your face for signs of pain or lingering confusion, ever the vigilant guardian.
"Thanks, Ghost. Really," you manage to say feeling comforted not only by his presence but also by the return to a semblance of normalcy. His constant vigilance, even as you slept, speaks volumes of his dedication not just to his duty but to you personally.
Ghost offers a slight smile, one that reaches his eyes this time. "No need to thank me. Just glad to see you're doing better," he says. He pulls a chair closer to your bed, settling in. "Need anything? Water? More pain meds?" he asks. Ready to assist with whatever you might need.
The simple exchange is light yet filled with unspoken care helps to ease the remaining tension from the ordeal. As Ghost continues to make sure you’re comfortable, you feel a profound sense of safety and appreciation for the bond that has only deepened through this experience. The conversation drifts into a comfortable silence filled with unspoken understanding and mutual respect. In this quiet early morning hour, a new layer of your relationship has been gently unfolded. Revealing the depth of connection that hardship and vulnerability can foster.
As the morning sun continues to pour a warm glow into the infirmary the doctor finishes his examination and nods with satisfaction. "You’ve made a remarkable recovery. I think you're ready to be discharged today. Just remember to take it easy for the next few days," he advises as he begins to pack away his equipment.
Ghost's reaction is almost immediate, his brow furrowing with concern. "Are you sure she’s ready?" he questions the doctor. His voice carrying a protective edge that makes you smile inwardly. His overt protectiveness is both touching and reassuring. A stark contrast to his usual stoic demeanor.
The doctor, accustomed to dealing with the cautious nature of soldiers about their comrades, reassures him with a confident nod. "Yes, she's stable. Just ensure she rests and avoids any strenuous activity. She should be fine," he explains patiently.
Despite the reassurance Ghost still looks unconvinced. His gaze flicking back to you, searching for any sign of discomfort or lingering weakness. "Maybe another day for observation?" he suggests. His tone half-questioning, half-requesting. It's evident he'd prefer you stay under medical supervision a bit longer.
Your heart warms at his concern and though you find his overprotectiveness endearing, you keep your thoughts to yourself. Instead, offering him a reassuring squeeze of his hand instead. "Ghost, I think I’ll be okay," you assure him gently trying to alleviate his worries.
Ghost manages a small smile. His usual impassive facade softening. "Just making sure," he mutters. Though his eyes remain tender with concern. He finally nods accepting the doctor's verdict, but his posture stays alert, protective.
"Alright, I’ll hold you to that. But we’re taking it slow for the next few days. I’ll let Price know." he declares. His tone firm, directed more at himself than anyone else.
As the doctor leaves Ghost assists you in gathering your belongings. His movements careful and considerate. He checks in frequently asking if you're feeling alright to continue, his cautiousness evident but heartening. It’s clear that although you’ve been given the all-clear Ghost will be keeping a close eye on you, ensuring your recovery proceeds without issue.
His unwavering attention not only makes you feel deeply cared for but also subtly deepens the bond between you, underscoring a shift in your relationship where his role as protector has become as instinctive as it is essential.
As you swing your legs off the bed and attempt to stand a momentary wave of dizziness makes your legs waver slightly. Instantly, Ghost is there, his hand firm on your waist, steadying you. His touch is gentle yet secure, grounding you in the moment.
You laugh it off with a light flush coloring your cheeks. "Just wobbly legs," you joke trying to ease the tension you feel from his close presence. Despite your attempt to downplay the situation your movements are still a bit too brisk. A clear sign you might be overestimating your current strength.
Ghost doesn't smile but there's a tenderness in his eyes that wasn’t there before. "Take it slow, love," he advises, his tone almost demanding. His hand remains on your back as a discreet but constant presence. He guides you slowly out of the infirmary. You feel the steadiness of his support with each step you take. His careful pace ensures you don't overexert yourself, allowing you time to adjust as you walk. The corridor seems longer than you remember but Ghost’s reassuring presence makes the journey feel safer, more manageable.
"You don’t have to rush this," he continues. Sensing your eagerness to prove your recovery. "We’ll get there when we get there." His words are simple but effective reminding you that your health is the priority not the speed of your recovery.
As you proceed you lean slightly into his support realizing how crucial his support has been, not just physically but also emotionally. Ghost’s unwavering steadiness helps bolster your confidence, making you feel that no matter how shaky your steps might be you won't fall as long as he’s by your side.
The walk back to your room is quiet but comfortable. It’s filled with an unspoken understanding that something significant has shifted between you. When you reach your door, Ghost finally pulls his hand away, but the warmth of his touch lingers.
"Thanks again, Ghost. For everything," you say while meeting his gaze. It's an open acknowledgment of all he's done and all he might continue to do.
"Anytime, love. Just... please take care of yourself," he responds. There’s a promise in his words, an implication that he'll always be nearby, watching over you.
As you reach the door to your quarters, Simon pauses, his hand resting lightly against the frame. "Can I help you get settled back in?" he asks. His tone as soft as it has been before, something new that has overcome him in your incident. His concern clearly evident.
You nod, touched by his attentiveness and as you enter your room he follows close behind. Simon watches carefully as you slowly make your way to your bed and sit down, still feeling a bit shaky. The room is familiar and comforting but his presence makes it feel even safer, more serene.
Once you're seated on the bed, he scans the room quickly, always alert for what you might need. "You sure you don't need anything else? Some more water? A snack?” Ghost asks, already moving towards your small kitchenette. He assumed a role that went beyond duty into something more personal.
You smile at his back, warmed by his concern. "I’m fine, Ghost. Really," you reassure him. But he shakes his head, not entirely convinced.
"It's no trouble at all. You should eat something," he insists gently while fetching a glass of water and a small snack from your stash. Simple things that you hadn't thought you’d needed until he presented them. As he hands you the glass his fingers brush yours lightly, sending a small, unexpected shiver up your arm. You thank him with a soft smile, touched by his thoughtfulness.
Noticing a few strands of hair falling over your face, Simon reaches out and gently brushes them back, his touch delicate and caring. His hand lingers for a moment, a silent expression of his deeper feelings.
You’re momentarily stunned but thrilled, nonetheless. You find it hard to find words as his hand lingers on your face. "I know I keep thanking you but thanks again Simon. For... well, for everything," you say after a moment. Your voice low and sincere. Using his first name feels natural, reflecting the shift in your relationship.
He pauses, looking into your eyes with an intensity that makes your heart flutter. "I’m here because I want to be, not because I have to be," he replies. His voice so soft it’s nearly a whisper, revealing the depth of his feelings.
"If you need anything else, just let me know. I'll be just a call away, love," He adds imbued with a warmth that reassures and comforts. His use of ‘love’ is tender, an endearment that resonates deeply, marking a significant moment in your ever evolving relationship.
He gives you a lingering look that was filled with care and a promise of protection before he reluctantly steps towards the door. There's a hint of hesitation in his movement, a subtle pause that conveys his desire to stay longer.
As he exits, gently closing the door behind him, you lie back against your pillows, the glass of water in your hand. His presence has left a comforting warmth in the room. A sense of safety that lulls you towards rest. The thought of Simon being just a call away brings a smile to your face. And as you close your eyes it’s not just the fatigue that makes you feel at ease. It’s knowing Simon is there, caring for you with a tenderness that goes beyond the call of duty.
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— Holove
bad batch x gn!reader (platonic), implied crosshair x reader
this is a one shot (1k)
warnings: 18+ for insinuations, cursing
notes: thought this idea was funny! i tried to keep this as gender neutral as possible, let me know if there are any slip ups! this hasn’t been edited or proofread.
summary: you, echo, hunter, wrecker, and tech play smash or pass with your newly made holove (tinder) account.
“Give me your holopad,” Hunter asked you, “there’s a game I want to download.”
You gave him a look, “You have your own, Hunter. Download it on yours.” You pulled your device close to your chest to assure he doesn’t get it.
So of course he tackled you and won, typing in your password to access the holostore. You gave up and opted to watch whatever the hell he’s doing from over his shoulder. When you watched him type ‘Holove’ into the search bar, you attempted to snatch your holopad back.
“Hunter what the fuck? That’s a dating app, not a game.”
His reaction time was fast, pulling the holopad above both of your heads as it downloaded. “It’s called Holove roulette. It’s like Smash or Pass that we can all play!”
“Then why does it have to be on my holopad!” You huffed and crossed your arms, knowing that there was nothing you could do. “Why don’t you use your own? Or Wrecker’s?”
“Our faces are too well-known - you’re anonymous on missions! We’re also… you know… clones,” he attempted to explain, “also it would be fun to know who thinks our teammate is gorgeous, other than us.”
You didn’t know whether to take that as a compliment or an insult, but you didn’t care. The game sounded fun enough to play, even if it was just a game. “Fine, at least let me help make my own profile.”
The images you chose consisted of a couple selfies from your bunk, a portrait from Pabu, and an image with a cute animal you saw on one of the many planets you’d visited with the crew. You made sure none of your images had their armor nor faces in them and turned the holopad for Hunter to see.
His eyes widened, “Smash or Pass: Hunter.”
You laughed before getting to work on the remainder of your bio. “What the fuck does A/S/L mean?”
“Let me see.” Hunter asked, to which you handed him the holopad, “Aurebesh Sign Language? I don’t know…”
Tech walked into the room at the perfect time, “Aurebesh is an alphabet, not a language. If I’m correct, which I am seldom not, A/S/L means age, sex, location. Did you coerce them, Hunter?”
”You’re in on this?” You sighed, rubbing your forehead. “Next you’re gonna say Wrecker and Echo are too.”
“You betcha!” Wrecker hollered from the pilot’s seat, accompanied by “it sounds like fun” from Echo. You expected the latter to be on your side, but you were proven wrong.
“What do I even put for location? We’re everywhere…”
Tech glanced at the holopad, “I do not think it’s wise to say Ordd Mantell, even if most of our time is spent there. Perhaps a sector? Ordd Mantell lies on a cross-section of three sectors, Bright Jewel, Qiilura, and Dohu along three separate hyperspace trade routes, Celanon Spur, Burke’s Trailing, and Entralla.”
“Bright Jewel sounds pretty. What’s in that sector?” You asked, hoping you could say a planet from there.
“Ordd Mantell serves as the sector capital, but Aleen, Numidian Prime, Anobis, and Jarnollen, to name a few.”
“Hunter, write down Numidian Prime. That’s a planet I’ve actually heard of.”
Tech fixed the goggles on his face, “your potential suitors will conclude that you’re a bounty hunter if you say that.” He paused to inspect your seemingly content face, “To each their own, I suppose.”
“Now, any ideas for the bio?”
“In my research, I’ve concluded most dating application profiles include things the person enjoys. A very common one is ‘I enjoy long walks on the beach’.” Tech expertly replied, giving you all the right ideas.
“I like shooting things! And running from the Empire!” You gleefully replied, earning yourself looks of disappointment from Hunter and Tech.
“Well, that fits the profile of a Numidian Prime inhabitant.”
Hunter sighed, “maybe we don’t say that. What about flying? You like flying, right?”
That made you audibly laugh, “you two never let me fly the Marauder!”
His reply came quickly, “Hey, it’s a better idea than ‘I like shooting things’!”
Tech thought for a moment, “How about travelling? I recall that you immensely enjoy our times on different planets, even if we are being targeted with less than optimal intentions the majority of the time.”
“That’ll work!” You were getting increasingly more interested in creating your profile, as were your crewmates. Maybe this would be more fun than you thought.
“What gender?”
You leaned over his shoulder to check ‘all’ before leaning back, “also, increase the range to the furthest it will go. More options that way.”
Soon after that, your profile was finally completed. Omega was long asleep, so you joined Hunter, Echo, Tech, and Wrecker in the cockpit to finally play.
You set the holopad on the ground between the five of you so everybody could see the screen. “Okay, ready?”
The first few were straight passes from everybody - you were not into Gungans nor droids.
“Holy shit, is that Fennec Shand?”
The boys laughed as Tech inspected it closer - it absolutely was her.
“Pass.” “Smash.” “Pass.” “Pass.” “Smash.”
“Are we just gonna forget that she tried to take Omega from us? Also tried to kill us? Multiple times?”
Wrecker tried to explain his reasoning as to why he said smash, “She was hired to do that! I like a woman who can handle a weapon.”
“This game is based on looks - we would’ve all said smash if we didn’t know her. Stop shaking your head, Hunter.”
A few more rounds went by before a familiar face popped on the screen, earning gasps from everybody. Hunter grabbed the holopad with a white-knuckle grip, swiping through his brother’s posted images.
“Is that who I think it is?” You asked, the wide-eyed looks from those who surrounded you telling you everything you needed to know. “Holy shit, Crosshair is on Hololove?” You managed to snatch the pad from the Sergeant, looking at Cross’ profile. “Oh, so he can say that he likes to shoot things but I can’t?”
The brothers remained silent, not knowing what to do with this newfound information. You did, though.
You swiped right, “Smash.”
A ding came from your holopad - ‘It’s a match!’
fin.
thank you for reading! check out my masterlist!
#bad batch x reader#the bad batch#sw tbb#bad batch#the bad batch crosshair#tbb crosshair#clone trooper crosshair#crosshair x reader#tbb hunter#tbb tech#xena’s fics
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