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soaringthroughthegalaxy · 11 months ago

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hiiii!! absolutely love your crosshair stuff (i’ve been on a crosshair binge since season three started lol) anyways i was hoping you could write something that’s like post-omega and crosshair escaping tantiss and reuniting with hunter and wrecker (end ep 4) with the prompts

11. I promised to love you forever, and that is a promise I intend to keep.

and

16. No matter how much time we’ve spent apart, I never stopped loving you.

like i was thinking crosshair and the reader are married but canon happened so the reader stayed with the bad batch and this would be the first time her and crosshair are seeing each other again since the end of season one at kamino

no rush for any of this btw. thankssss

Hello, hi! Thank you so much for this request. I had something similar going through my mind after the episode aired so was excited to see this drop in!! I hope you enjoy 😊

Never Stopped

When Omega's cryptic message leads to a heartfelt reunion on Ryloth's nearest moon, you didn't expect her to be accompanied by the one man you never thought you'd get to see again.

Pairing: Crosshair x f!reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings: spoilers for S3E04, we love a good reunion, inner turmoil, fluff, comfort, pet names.

“I had help.” Omega’s statement hangs in the air until the light sound of footsteps on metal reaches your ears, and you turn alongside Wrecker to watch as someone steps out of the stolen transport.

No. Not someone.

Him.

For a second, you forget how to breathe, unable to tear your eyes away from the man you never dared hope you’d see again. The last time you’d seen him had been after the fall of Kamino, on that blasted platform in the middle of the ocean. You’d pleaded with him to come with you - to leave the Empire’s clutches - but he’d declined. Your stubborn, infuriating husband.

Maker, you’d missed him.

Before you even know what you’re doing, you’re running, crossing the inky darkness between the two ships, closing the distance between you as Crosshair takes the final step down onto the planet’s surface. He doesn’t have time to protest before your arms are around his neck, hauling him into a crushing embrace. His brothers might be wary, but you aren’t.

Crosshair freezes, caught off guard by your affection. In the short time it had taken you to reach him, he’d braced himself for a slap or to be chewed out. This was…unexpected. You’re warm against him, the softness of your body so familiar, as is the scent of your shampoo. Tentatively, he slides his arms around you in return, pulling you close to suffocate all space between you both, soaking up the feeling of having you back in his arms. “Kitten...”

The whispered term of endearment is all it takes, and a heaving sob leaves you before you can stop it.

Everything since the order was given crashes down on you – the shots he’d fired as you scrambled to escape Kamino, how relentlessly he’d chased you across the galaxy, Kamino falling, the distress message he’d sent to your old comms channel��it had felt never-ending.

But it was over now.

As you bury your face against his chest, the torrent of emotions overwhelms you. There’s a sense of catharsis, a release from the pent-up anguish that had threatened to suffocate you. The weight of his presence feels like a balm to your wounded soul, and with each sob that racks your body, it’s as if a burden is lifted, allowing you to finally exhale the turmoil that had gripped you for far too long.

He’s here. In one piece. Free from the Empire’s clutches, with Omega in tow.

Hunter and Wrecker’s tension eases slightly as they witness the reunion between you and Crosshair, but they’re not ready to let their guard down just yet. They exchange knowing glances before Hunter clears his throat. “We need to go.” He shouts across the distance, feeling guilty for breaking the moment but knowing that the Empire won’t be far behind.

You pull back slightly, hands still clutching desperately at Crosshair as he meets your gaze. He’s never been one to cry, but unshed tears line those sharp eyes you’ve missed so much. Silently, you swipe away your tears with one hand, the other finding his to guide him towards the Marauder. A blur of motion whips past you, and you startle, but with a click of his tongue, Crosshair stills the creature responsible, and a hound falls into step beside him as you lead him back towards the ship.

It feels too good to be true, too easy. The nervousness Crosshair had felt rolling through him as he’d forced himself down the steps of the transport returns. Fingers interlaced with yours, he can feel the skin-warmed metal of your ring. It’s still there after everything.

He feels nauseous as you cross the darkness towards the ship that had once been his home. He glances at Wrecker as you both pass him and the apprehension on his big brother’s face wavers for just a second before Crosshair looks away, unable to stand it.

Hunter has already ushered Omega inside, the young girl saying hello to Gonky, who beeps happily at her return. Crosshair lets you situate him in one of the back seats in the cockpit as Wrecker comes up the ramp, smacking the button to shut it as Hunter takes Tech’s seat and fires up the engines.

Tech.

Crosshair swallows, bile rising in his throat. His twin is gone. Omega had brokenly told him what had happened during one of her many visits to his cell. Guilt curls through him - his brother had insisted on the mission to Eriadu and had been keen to find him, which ultimately led to his sacrifice.

Crosshair barely registers the ship setting off or the jump to hyperspace.

A soft squeeze of his hand draws his focus, and his head tilts to look across at you. Your wide eyes, which he adores, look at him with concern and something else he can’t quite put his finger on. Hunter and Wrecker are in the pilot and copilot seats, Omega curled in Hunter’s lap as they catch up while Wrecker pets Batcher.

You can practically see Crosshair’s discomfort, so you lead him out into the belly of the ship, closing the cockpit doors behind you to give the pair of you some privacy. “I thought I’d lost you.” You whisper, your voice barely above a breath as you sit side by side on one of the bunks, bodies tilted towards each other.

“Have to try harder than that.” Crosshair’s answer is quick, and the vice-like grip of dread that had encircled his heart slackens as he hears you laugh - it’s a short and sharp sound, nothing like the melodic giggles he’d grown accustomed to during the war, but it’s something. And Maker, does it feel good.

You’d almost forgotten what it was like to be on the receiving end of his quips, and for a moment, it’s like nothing has changed. But you spot something missing as you turn his hand over in yours.

His wedding ring is gone.

“They took it from me.” He’s quick to reassure you, seeing the pained expression on your pretty face. He hadn’t even been able to fight to keep it, having woken up on Tantiss without it. The troopers had quickly silenced him whenever he’d asked about its whereabouts.

Silence settles between you both for a moment, your gaze fixed on this hand - on the vacant spot. “We’ll get you a new one,” you state quietly, lifting your eyes to finally meet his.

Crosshair’s brows furrow in disbelief at your words. After everything he’s done and the pain and betrayal, he can’t fathom why you still want to be married to him. Guilt and shame churn in his gut, threatening to overwhelm him. “Why?” he asks, his voice low and raspy, his gaze searching yours for some semblance of an answer.

You reach out and gently cup his cheek, your touch sending shivers down his spine. “I promised to love you forever, and that’s a promise I intend to keep,” you say simply, your eyes reflecting a depth of emotion that Crosshair can’t comprehend. “Despite everything, I still believe in us - in you. No matter how much time we’ve spent apart, I never stopped loving you.”

A lump forms in Crosshair’s throat as he struggles to process your words. He’d spent so long convincing himself that he was better off paying for his sins in that cell. But here you are, offering forgiveness and understanding. He searches your eyes for any sign of deceit or resentment but finds unwavering sincerity and love.

Crosshair reaches out, hand shaking as his fingers brush your cheek. “Maybe you’ve hit your head too many times, kitten.” Crosshair quips, a hint of his trademark sarcasm slipping through. Despite the gravity of the moment, he can’t resist teasing you. But deep down, he’s grateful for your forgiveness and unwavering love, even if he doesn’t understand it.

You roll your eyes at his remark, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Maybe you just need a few more hits to knock some sense into that thick skull of yours.” You retort, your tone teasing yet filled with affection.

As the playful banter lingers in the air, a moment of quiet settles between you both, the reality of the situation sinking in. Crosshair’s gaze softens, his hand lingering on your cheek as he soaks in your closeness. “I love you too.” He whispers, his voice barely audible above the hum of the ship’s engines. “I never stopped either.”

Your heart swells with relief and happiness, and with a soft smile, you press a gentle kiss to the back of his hand, feeling the slight tremble beneath your lips. “What happened, my heart?” You ask, your voice soft and concerned, brows drawn down as you watch how he shakes.

Crosshair hesitates for a moment. “They did…things. Some I remember. Some I don’t.” He answers vaguely.

You’re familiar with this game. He doesn’t want to think about it. Doesn’t want to talk about it. And while you know he'll need to one day, today’s not that day. Respecting his unspoken plea not to delve deeper into the horrors he endured, you gently squeeze his hand, offering him a reassuring smile. “We don’t have to talk about it now.” You murmur softly. “But we need to get you out of those awful clothes.” You change the subject, wrinkling your nose. “Handsome you may be, but this is not working.” You make a vague gesture at his outfit.

Crosshair chuckles softly at your remark, the memories chased away for the time being by your attempt to lighten the mood. “I’ll have you know; I make anything look good,” he retorts with a smirk. “But I suppose some fresh clothes wouldn’t hurt.”

You nod in agreement, grateful for the ease with which the two of you fall back into rhythm. “Exactly, and I’m sure I can find something more comfortable for you.” You reply, standing up and glancing around the small quarters of the ship.

As you start to pull crates out from the nearby storage racks, Crosshair watches you with a slight smile, admiring the familiar sight of you in motion. “You always know just how to take care of me,” he remarks, his voice low and warm, a tone saved just for you.

You shoot him a playful smile over your shoulder. “Someone has to.” You quip back, pulling out the crate you’d been looking for.

His kit crate. You still had his kit crate, with all your doodles on the outside – his name in Aurebesh, the squad’s symbol, a copy of his tattoo, and ever so slightly wonky hearts that he’d made a show of grumbling about but secretly loved.

Crosshair’s surprise is evident as he watches you retrieve a clean undersuit from the crate. He’d assumed its contents would be long gone - tossed aside, sold, or scrapped. The fact that you kept all his armour, along with his bucket, fills him with a strange mix of emotions. “Didn’t think you’d keep it,” Crosshair finally manages to say.

Before you can respond, footsteps interrupt the moment, drawing your attention towards the source. Hunter steps out from the cockpit – even with the door shut, he can still hear everything. His eyes meet Crosshair’s, and while he knows there’s a lot for them to talk about and work through, and he’s still not entirely sure he fully trusts his baby brother, he wants to offer him some reassurance. It’s the least he can do. “We were never going to get rid of it,” Hunter says, his voice firm yet gentle. “You’re still one of us.”

Crosshair finds himself at a loss for words. Emotions swirl within him, a tumultuous mix of gratitude and guilt. As Hunter’s words sink in, his gaze flickers back to you. Despite the doubts and fears that linger in his mind, one thing is certain: he’s home.

With a small smile, you offer the clean undersuit to your husband. “Here,” you say softly, your voice laced with affection. “Let’s get you changed.”

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vodika-vibes · 1 month ago

Text

I'll Take Care Of You

Summary: You get sick, and Hunter finds out.

Pairing: TBB Hunter x F!Reader

Word Count: 892

Warnings: Reader is very sick, Hunter calls reader Sweetling

A/N: I'm still really sick, but I wanted to try writing something, which is how this was born. I'm sorry if it's not very good. Tagging @clonethirstingisreal because you love Hunter

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

You feel like death warmed over.

Actually, that might be an understatement.

You have a fever, the chills and the sweating make that obvious. You can feel your cough deep in your chest, and you get winded walking from the bedroom to the kitchen even though it’s only a short walk away.

Bronchitis. Your tired mind offers you as you try to busy yourself deeper under your blankets, trying to ward off the chill that goes hand in hand with having a fever.

And, you could call the clinic and make an appointment and get some medicine, but you also know that the illness will run its course with or without treatment. And you’re just so tired.

Not to mention, the very idea of climbing on your speeder to drive to the clinic, only to have to drive back after your appointment makes you want to cry.

No, it’s fine.

You’ll just let the illness run its course.

Hunter will understand.

Your eyes drift shut as sleep threatens to claim you, though something is nudging at your tired mind. It is so hard to focus right now, but that niggling feeling at the back of your mind is really distracting.

Slowly you roll onto your back, your hand moving to your chest to try and rub the pain away while running through a list of important things.

The stove and oven are off, you haven’t used either in several days.

All of your bills have been paid, that was done before you got sick at the beginning of the month.

You’ve eaten and had water in the last hour.

You’ve showered, including washing your hair.

The shower has been turned off and isn’t running in the bathroom.

Your comm is charging next to the bed.

You’ve finished all of your work for the week.

You stare blankly at the ceiling for a moment and then roll back onto your side, so you’re facing the fan that’s helping you catch your breath, and start to drift off. Whatever it is, it can’t be that important.

When you wake up, it’s to the sound of your comm ringing, annoyingly, in your ear. Blindly, you reach for your comm, only for it to stop ringing. A heavy sigh falls from your lips, and you bury yourself back in your pillow, only for your comm to start ringing again.

You groan, miserably, but grab the comm and press it to your ear, “Yes?” Your voice is raspy and thick with sleep and illness, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

There’s silence on the other end of the line for a moment, “Cyare?”

Oh. Hunter.

Right, that makes sense. No one else calls you.

“Hm?”

“Did you lose your comm, love? You didn’t answer until I called the third time?”

“Was sleeping.” You mumble.

“Still?”

“Hm?” Words are hard, you’re so tired.

“Baby, it’s nearing 3 pm.” Oh. “Have you been asleep all day?”

“Mm-hm.” You turn your head away from the comm to cough into your pillow, it wouldn’t be nice to cough in Hunter’s ear. Even over comm.

“Cyare, are you sick?”

“M’okay. Just tired.” Why is it so cold? You can’t stop shivering. You tug your blanket a little higher up your body, “M’tired, Hunter.”

“Hey, I’m coming over, cyare. Will you stay on the comm with me?” His voice sounds weird.

You sigh deeply, “Just wanna sleep, Hunter.”

“I know. I know you do, sweetling. But I need you to stay on the comm with me, alright? Can you do that for me?”

“Mm…” But, despite your agreement, you drift back to sleep with Hunter’s worried voice in your ear.

The next thing you know, you’re being woken up by Hunter rubbing his knuckles against your sternum. It hurts, and you whine as you try to wiggle away from the sensation.

“There you are,” Hunter’s hair is pulled into a tail at the back of his head, and he’s not wearing his headband for once.

You blink at him, slightly bewildered. “What—?”

“You passed out while on the comm with me, sweetling,” Hunter replies, somehow able to decipher your barely audible word, “You’re burning up.”

You blink at him, twice, “You're gonna get sick.”

“Nah, I don’t get sick.” Hunter’s hands are cool to the touch as he helps you sit up, “Up you get, sweetling. We’re going to the hospital.”

You whine in the back of your throat, you don’t want to go to the hospital. But you couldn’t keep Hunter from moving you how he likes on a good day, and this is definitely not a good day.

“I know, I know.” Hunter carefully guides you to a sitting position, and tugs your sweat-soaked pajamas off of your overheated body, reaching for a pile of clothes sitting on the side of the bed, “It’s okay, sweetling, I’ll take care of you.”

Slowly, you drop your pounding head to his shoulder, “Love you.” There are so many other things that you want to say to him. Like thank you, and I’m sorry, and probably a million other things.

But words are so hard right now.

And, in any event, he seems to know what you’re trying to say anyway, as he presses a light kiss to your temple and then tugs your tank top over your head. “Love you more, sweetling.”

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