Hey Pls Take This With A Grain Of Salt As I Don't Want To Be Rude At All !! Since Your Series "emperor

Hey, friend. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed your Eddie works. Hope you Lee finding inspiration to write! Besos 🤘🏼💋

Thank you so very much! That’s so sweet of you! I am currently working on another Eddie fic. Might post that tomorrow or the following day!

hey are your requests open?

They are indeed!

Why I Stopped Writing:

Many of you know me as webslingerholland. My tumblr page was very popular from 2016-2018. My best stories were Baby Holland and The Royal Family. I wrote for Tom Holland, Peter Parker, Harrison Osterfield, Sam Holland, and Harry Holland. I had millions of followers and thousands of likes on each post.

It wasn’t until October 15, 2018 that it all went downhill. My life changed dramatically to the point we’re I was forced to leave my home. It was a painful time for me. I was full of anger and frustration. And I made the mistake of deleting my tumblr and all my stories on it. To this day, this has been my biggest regret.

I wish I kept those stories. I wish I kept those memories. I wish I could reread all the comments. I wish I could remember my followers. I wish I could turn to my inbox to see my latest messages from fans. I wish…I wish…I wish.

But I can’t. It’s gone now.

I came back in 2020. I made a new account under the same username. Some of the original creators found me again. Some of my old followers were still around. I found that a lot of people had been asking about me over the years. I can’t justify why I deleted everything. There is no excuse. And I seriously regret it.

I started rewriting my stories, occasionally finding some copyrighted versions on different platforms. I was doing well again until…

I met someone.

We started seeing each more often and we started dating a couple months later. I was finally happy again. I didn’t need to turn to my writing to find happiness. I found it with him. And so I stopped writing. I still have my account here. I might even still add to it from time to time. I might come back to write stories again. I might do a lot of things.

Last Friday was the three year anniversary of the worst day of my life. I was feeling really low, but my boyfriend had the whole day planned out to keep my mind off the bad memories. And at the end of the day, he got down on one knee and proposed to me. I obviously said yes.

I’ll never close the door to tumblr. I’ll always leave it open for the possibilities. I actually am still writing on Wattpad. I’ve found a lot of joy in that because I originally started on that platform. What’s important to know is that im still here. I still open the app every day. I just don’t post stories anymore…at least, not right now.

But I’m happy. I have someone who makes me happy. I’m doing well in college. I’ve gotten closer to my family. I’m getting married in the spring. It’s a good life.

And so I write this as a little life update. I doubt many people will read it. I don’t think I have as many followers as I did back in the day. But to those who do still follow me and check up on me, this was for you.

Thank you for everything. Thank you for the love. Thank you for the comments. Thank you for the likes. Thank you for the follows. Thank you for making me happy for so many years. I appreciate everything you did for me. I love you so much!

Just A Bartender | Kaz Brekker

Summary: There was nothing special about the head bartender at the Crow Club. For Kaz Brekker, he could list off thirty people who were more valuable assets or investments to him. But there is something about the bartender that ignites a desire to protect her at all costs.

Warning: alcoholic beverages, mentions of gambling, slightly demeaning behavior

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Fem!Reader

Type: Oneshot

Word Count: 4k

The Crow Club had such an enticing ambience filled to the brim with thoughtless pigeons. The Ketterdam tourists didn’t know any better than to visit one of the most well-known clubs in the Barrel. A place where they could put down a couple wages, drink until their hearts content, and get tricked into spending more money than they realize.

It was the perfect trap set by Kaz Brekker himself. The tables and dealers weren’t rigged, but a gambling hall is still a gambling hall. People lose their money at the tables and invest in a couple drinks. Before they know it, all their money is gone and it has all goes right into his pocket.

The Crow Club was never not busy, besides when it was closed in the early hours of the morning. It was Friday, which only meant that it was going to be a busy night and the start of the weekend. The tables were filled with some bystanders even standing on the sidelines awaiting their turn. 

The bouncers guarded the door to monitor the people coming in and out of the club. The waitresses whisked around tables, carrying tray after tray of various alcoholic drinks. All of which were provided and stocked by the head bartender. 

Near the back of the club, Y/N was standing behind the bar counter. She had a pint in her hands and was filling the pint to the brim with rich golden beer. She placed the pint onto a tray that was almost full of other drinks. She quickly pushed the tray into the hands of a waitress, sending the orders out. 

On busy nights like these, Y/N barely had a moment to think to herself. Instead, she opted to bury herself in the work in front of her because she knew how well it paid. She wiped her hands clear of beer on the apron tied around her waist before grabbing a nearby rag to clean the countertop. 

In that given moment, Wylan had returned to the bar with an empty tray in his hands. He slipped behind the bar and began helping by drying some cups with a rag himself. 

Over the past couple weeks, Y/N had been training Wylan in the art of bartending. She had seen firsthand how well he performed when mixing different chemicals to create his signature bombs. She wondered if he would take an interest in bartending since it was somewhat similar. And he most certainly did.

Wylan was a quick learner. Despite still not knowing how to read, Wylan was able to memorize which bottles of alcohol where which by the shape, size, color, and even smell. He always measured out the correct amount for each drink, since precision was insanely important when it comes to pyrotechnics. In no time, Wylan had become well knowledge in how to make certain drinks.

To have a second bartender was very helpful, especially on busy nights like these ones. For the past week, Wylan also doubled as another waiter since one of the girls had called out sick on short notice. He would take orders, return to the bar, create them himself, and then deliver them to the pigeons. 

With Wylan often at the bar, this meant that Jesper spent even less time at the tables. For the majority of the night, Jesper would find himself perched on one of the barstools at the bar; his head perched in the palm of his hand as he stared longingly at the young bartender. This distraction was one that Wylan, Y/N, and Kaz were most thankful for as they knew how bad his gambling problem really was.

“Might I have another refill?” Jesper wondered as he lowered his now empty glass onto the bar counter. He winced at the burning in the back of his throat.

“I think you’ve had enough tonight,” Y/N said warringly as she took his glass away. “Don't want to develop a drinking problem on top of a gambling problem.”

Jesper snorted in response, but nodded his head in agreement. She sent him a warm smile and cheeky wink. He went to push the barstool back, standing to his feet. He stretched his arms over his head.

“Well, then I might head to the tables.” Jesper began. She went to protest, but Wylan beat her to it.

“We’ve talked about this,” Wylan quickly came to stand beside him and took his arm as if to stop him.

“Don’t worry about me. I won’t spend more than an hour at the table,” Jesper claimed. He leaned forward to press a soft kiss to his forehead, burying his nose in the ruff of hair. He quickly pulled away and slipped into the crowd to find an empty table.

Left at the bar, Wylan slumped down in the empty barstool left by Jesper. He breathed a long sigh of defeat. His gaze drifted down to the wet rag in his hands, finding a loose string and pulling on it without thought.

“I’ll send Inej to make sure he leaves the tables after an hour,” Y/N tried to cheer him up. He looked over his shoulder to send her a weak smile, mentally appreciating the effort. He redirected his line of attention to the crowd, spotting his lover situated at one of the tables. 

From across the room, Y/N’s eyes had landed on the dark and looming figure of her boss walking the floor. He was currently being trailed by one of his informants; a pesky man who honestly didn’t know when to stop talking. 

The bartender just knew by the look in his eyes that his patience was already warring thin. His jaw was locked in place and his pace quickened despite the use of his cane. He also had that clear look of annoyance in his eyes. 

In that moment, Y/N began to prepare his usual order, which was a glass of the finest whiskey in Ketterdam. She knew he was gonna need it after that conversation. Sure enough, Kaz spun around on the heels of his feet and said one thing to his informant. Without another word, the short and stout man scurried past him to leave the club. 

Now, Kaz headed straight to the far side of the bar. He stood with his eyes facing the shelf full of the alcoholic beverages. The head bartender placed his usual on the countertop before sending it sliding down the long length of the counter. Without looking, Kaz caught the small glass of whiskey with his leather black glove. He raised the glass to his lips, taking a long sip of the rich liquid and relishing in the burning sensation felt near the back of his throat.

When Y/N turned her head away, Kaz shifted his gaze to stare at her discreetly unbeknownst to her. He remembered the day he hired her, which was only a few days before the club opened. He hired her for one reason and one reason only: if she agreed to not to ask any questions. And she had kept her end of the bargain ever since.

He knew this would be a difficult task for anyone. There was always the mystery behind the black leather gloves he wore and the limp accompanied by the crow cane. The origins of where Kaz Brekker came from. Why he was so ruthless and heartless even as a twenty year old now. But she wasn’t allowed to ask questions.

When Kaz would come back to the Slat bloodied and bruised because he had gotten into a fistfight with a local gang, Y/N couldn’t even ask what happened or who did that to him. She simply sit silently while tending to his cuts with a damp rag.  She never pestered and she never pried.

She wasn’t anything special herself. She wasn’t part of the Six Crows. She didn’t participate in the heist. She didn’t wield any foreign knives, have the heartrending ability, or have a sharpshooter’s eye. She was just simply the bartender. 

She wasn’t part of the fight. She didn’t attend meetings. She brought very little to the table, besides the occasional alcoholic drinks as per requested. 

She played no role. She had no importance. She didn’t have a name for herself. She most certainly was expendable. If she disappeared, nobody would know her or even remember her. Her job could easily be filled by the next person who walked into the room or even Wylan if that was an option. 

She had little value and she knew this.

“Hey lady,” Y/N was pulled from her thoughts by a customer sitting at a table nearby. He raised his empty glass. “Be a sweetheart and get me a refill,” the man grinned wickedly.

Now Kaz’s gaze shifted from the customer to the bartender. He watched carefully. She grabbed a clean empty glass, choosing to fill up the pint without saying anything. She went to hand the glass to Wylan, but the customer stopped her by calling out again.

“Bring it to me yourself, lady.” He almost groaned. He sent a cheeky wink to the other men around the table. They chuckled deeply to themselves. 

With some hesitation, Y/N made her way around the side of the counter with the pint of beer in her hands. She went to approach the table, carefully placing the glass down for the customer. She began taking a single step back, but was stopped when the man gripped her wrist.

Out of instinct, Y/N let out a small gasp of surprise. She clenched her fist tightly and attempted to pull herself out of his tight grasp. She tried to contain herself, in attempts of hiding the clear fear and discomfort she felt. Because she knew that if she showed even an ounce of fear, that they will feed off of that and tear her to pieces. She held her ground.

“Kindly let go,” Y/N demanded firmly but quietly.

“What you gonna do about it, pretty girl?” The man said with a deep chuckle. The beer drenched his long orange beer, dripping onto his fine waistcoat. His breath stank of alcohol and tobacco.

All of the sudden, a loud click of a cane came in contact with the wooden floorboards. The table went silent. Everyone’s heads turned to the source of the sound; their gazes falling on the one who ran the club. 

In all his glory, Kaz Brekker stood facing the table of pigeons. His two gloved hands rested on top of the crow head cane. He said nothing to them, simply staring them down with a hard look in his eyes. 

A little click of a gun caused the men at the table to turn their heads once again. On the other side of the room, Jesper stood with one of his precious pearly guns in his hand. It was already cocked and ready for a fight. He narrowed his eyes at them as if challenging them. Wylan shallowed heavily in fear of the worst happening.

The sound of a knife being pulled out of its sheath could be heard much to everyone’s surprise. They turned their heads one final time to see a dark cloaked figure standing on the other side of the room. She drawn knives glistened in a yellow light of the club. Her face covered by a thin blue cloth. It was the Wraith.

“I’d chose your next step very carefully if I were you,” Kaz threatened darkly.

With little hesitation, the man released his tight grip on the bartender’s wrist. She took a couple steps back in retreat. She pulled her wrist to her chest, rubbing the tingling pain away with her other hand. She wondered if it would bruise tomorrow.

Kaz didn’t say anything. He tipped his head to Jesper as if to say ‘escort this man and his pals out of the place.’ He nodded knowingly before calling over the bouncers. They acted quickly by escorting the whole table out of the club despite their protests that their money was good and they didn’t do anything wrong. 

The owner of the club went to stand in front of his bartender. He kept his eyes on the door of the club as the men were forcefully pushed out of the club. She looked at him expectedly. She half expected him to ask if she was alright, but she should have known better because all he said was:

“My office after work.”

Her shoulders slouched at her sides in defeat. She stared at him with a hint of sadness in her eyes. The pain in her wrist was starting to become more prominent with each passing second. It was bound to bruise at this point. 

“Yes boss,” Y/N accepted. 

With her head hung low, Y/N returned to her rightful place behind the bar to finish out the rest of her shift. She dreaded the conversation that she was expected to have at the end of the night, left expectant in the dark about what their topic would pertain to.

Many hours later, the Crow Club was finally closed. The tables had been cleared. The dealers and bouncers had all gone back to their quarters at the Slat. Even Jesper, Wylan, and Inej had made their way back to the place they called home. All that was left was the bartender.

For starters, Y/N had to walk around the club in order to collect all of the glasses and pints. Many of them were left empty, but some of them still had liquid leftover. She returned to the bar to wash the dishes and dry them with her spare rag. She placed the rest of them upside down on the counter to dry overnight.

Next, Y/N made her way to each table to clean the table tops. She then proceeded to stack the chairs on top of table. This took quite some time as they were a lot of tables in the club. But once the tables and chairs were taken care of, Y/N was able to get out a broom and dustpan.

The pigeons often brought in heaps of dust and dirt from the road, which made the naturally brown floorboards this disgusting black color. It took close to an hour of sweeping the place before she was able to move onto the mopping portion of her tasks. 

By this point, it was close to the early hours of the morning. While the sun wasn’t peeking over the horizon, it was bound to in an hours time. Rather sluggishly, Y/N returned to her place behind the bar. She opened a hidden cupboard to retrieve a single pristine teacup. She filled the teacup with a rich black coffee before placing the cup on a silver tray.

Carefully, so not to spill the cup of coffee, Y/N made her way upstairs to the upper level of the club. She cautiously went to approach the door to her boss’s office. She raised her hand to knock twice.

Even though she heard nothing in response, Y/N was able to open the door and make her way inside. She saw her boss sitting behind his desk, working through some of the books. She strode over to his desk to lower the silver tray on top of it. 

As per request, Kaz liked to have a cup of coffee while working on the books every night before leaving the club. He never took any creamer or sugar with his coffee, opting to drink it straight black. Almost fitting to his persona.

Black gloves. Black coffee. Black soul.

Without taking his eyes away from his work, Kaz’s devilishly long fingers curled round the handle of the teacup. He brought the cup to the seam of his lips, tipping the cup slightly upwards to get a taste of its bitter and strong flavor. 

In the three years of working for Kaz Brekker, Y/N always brought him a cup of coffee at the end of the night. She’d watch him drink his coffee, waiting for her next orders. Sometimes Kaz would ask her to restock the new shipment of vodka that had come in from the harbor. Other times, Kaz would ask her to look over the books for him to make sure he didn’t miss anything.

The longest wait had been over an hour long of her just standing in front of his desk, waiting for a verbal dismissal from him. It was always how she ended her night at the club. Sometimes her dismissal came in the form of a short nod. On rare occasions, Kaz would say something like ‘you may go.’ 

Tonight would be different. A fight had almost broke out in the club. A gun could have been fired by Jesper had his patience run out a minute earlier. Blood could have been shed over a mere bartender.

A few moments passed in utter silence. The only sound was coming from Kaz flipping through some papers and when he lowered his drink back down onto the silver tray.

“I’d like to apologize for tonight--,” Y/N began but was quickly interrupted.

“What for?” Kaz said without drawing his gaze away from his work. She paused for a moment.

“There was almost a fight,” Y/N replied blankly.

“Happens from time to time,” Kaz claimed. He wasn’t wrong. “I just prefer to keep my floors clean of blood.”

She knew this better than anyone. He’d always get so frustrated if someone shot a gun off in his club or if someone ended up dead on his floor. Unbeknownst to her, it was solely because she was the one who always had to clean up the mess. He hated seeing her on her hands and knees, scrubbing the blood out of the floorboards. 

He knew that she’d wake up the next day with sore knees and splinters in her hand. An ache in her back that wouldn’t go away for another week. Her hands stained pink from the blood she washed away with a scrubber and bucket. Her eyes tired from having to stay later.

Kaz Brekker knew well of pain. He was old buddies with him. The effects of firepox had caused an unbearable pain when he was much younger. However, the worst pain that Kaz ever endured was when he was fourteen years old. In which, he jumped off the roof of a bank and broke his right leg. That pain failed to leave his side and still resides with him to his day, hint the cane. 

Kaz Brekker knew well of the pain of others. Often times, Kaz found a somewhat sense of joy upon seeing the look of pain in others faces, particularly other members of rivalry gangs. To see a man writhing in pain due to being shot in the leg or being witness to a solid left hook to a jaw. It was often satisfying to say the least.

However, Kaz Brekker concealed behind all his hard armor, could not stand to see one particular person in pain. It shouldn’t have been an issue, but it had been for the past three years. His bartender of all people was the one person on his mind.

He always knew that he liked to take care of his investments, particularly his crows in which he had invested a lot of his money and time into. His bartender was not much of an investment. He had paid off Inej’s indenture years ago and she worked for him as a spy in disguise. He gave Jesper a line of credit in which he quickly became his right hand man. Even Wylan, whom Kaz had taken under his wing, was part of the crew and was a much more valuable asset than any bartender could be. After all, she was just a bartender.

She brought nothing to the table. No intel. No skill. No muscle. Just the ability to make one hell of a cocktail and the strong sense to not ask any questions.

The investment in her was not one for the books. It wasn’t one of the best choices he’d ever made. She made drinks and kept the place tidy. That was it. She was dispensable.

And yet, for some reason, Kaz protected her. He always protects his investments, but especially the ones he truly cares about. He protects his crows as they are the closest thing he has to a family now. He protects the other members of the Dregs as they are what holds his empire together. And he protects his bartender because...

Kaz lifted his head to finally meet her soft gaze. She offered him a small smile that went away as quickly as it appeared. He found himself standing to his feet with the help of his cane, shifting around the side of his desk. He stood in front of her.

He very slowly lowered himself to perch on the edge of his desk, studying her figure with a blank look on his face. She faltered under his strict gaze, dropped her line of sight to stare at the ground instead. She closed her eyes to calm herself.

Suddenly, Y/N felt the soft pads of two leather fingers touch the underside of her chin. Her head was lifted by those fingers until her gaze met those of her boss’s. She held her breathe as she stared directly into the eyes of the bastard of the barrel. 

He took the time to admire all of her features. Her skin was illuminated by the soft golden glow of the fireplace beside them. Her hair smelt of alcohol from the drinks she had been pouring all night. Her lips so perfect because they had never been tempted once to ask a single question.

“Your wrist...” Kaz said softly. 

His other hand made contact with the wrist that had been clutched tightly that night. He brought her hand up to view himself. He went to push away the sleeve of her blouse, settling his gaze on the small purple bruise that had begun to form around her wrist.

“It’ll heal,” Y/N claimed with a shrug of the shoulders. He cast a glance to her.

“They won’t come near you again. That I can promise,” Kaz gave a nod.

“B-But they bring in money. They meant no harm--,” Y/N tried to reason with him.

“They meant harm,” Kaz said curtly. He lifted his head to stare at her hard, unwavering in his opinion on the matter. He examined her wrist once more. “Those kind always do.”

“It’s only a bruise. Not a break or even a sprain,” Y/N replied. She tried to recapture his attention by lowering her head to insert herself into his line of vision. “I am fine. You don’t have to worry about me,” she claimed.

In that moment, Kaz Brekker could feel the walls around his mind and heart begin to fall away at her words. His mind wasn’t plagued with the fear that someone might overhear their conversation. He always believed attachment meant weakness, but just for a moment, he forgot all about his beliefs.

“I do worry,” Kaz said in a soft whisper. He stared into the depths of her eyes, now taking notice of their proximity to one another. That he was able to feel the soft fanning of her breath against his face. “All the time,” Kaz added.

“W-Why’s that?” Y/N replied, almost baffled by his answer.

“Because...” Kaz couldn’t find the words. He was reminded that if he spoke his mind or showed any sense of vulnerability, that he would be deemed weak in his own eyes. So he changed his answer. “You’re an investment. And I like to protect my investments,” Kaz lied under his tongue.

“I can take care of myself,” Y/N chuckled at his response. She wanted to take a step back and turn away from him entirely, but she was too drawn to him.

“The thing is...you don’t have to,” Kaz responded. He dropped his voice to a low whisper so that they couldn’t be heard by anyone other than themselves. His lips curved into a michevious grin. He was up to something. “I can take care of you for the rest of our lives.”

“How?” Y/N narrowed her eyes at him, knowing this was far beyond a (what she thought was) simple confessor of feelings.

“Found myself another job,” Kaz replied. He smirked at her wickedly. “One that will make us rich beyond our wildest dreams.”

Author’s Note:

IT’S BEEN A WHILE, HASN’T IT? I AM HAPPY TO ANNOUNCE MY RETURN.

Boys Will Be Boys | Hunter or Crosshair from The Bad Batch

Summary: In which the team's medic always finds herself patching up Hunter and Crosshair after one of their 'disagreements.'

Warning: language, mentions of rough fighting and severe injuries (inflicted by one another), bruised bones and knife wound, mention of stitches and needles, slight blood, and quarreling brothers

Pairing: Hunter x Fem!Reader Medic or Crosshair x Fem!Reader Medic

Type: Oneshot

Word Count: 2.8k

Note: Fully inspired by Echo's line of dialogue shown below

For the first time in a long time, the Marauder was nearly empty and entirely quiet. The only sound that could be heard was the soft humming coming from the team's medic who'd chosen to stay behind on one of the missions. You made sure to keep yourself busy, opting to organize a few bins of medical supplies on the nearby shelf.

The peace and quiet had suddenly broken when the familiar sound of Wrecker's booming voice called from the outside of the ship. You didn't really think anything of it at first because Wrecker naturally had a loud voice. But what you didn't realize was that he was calling for you.

The chaotic mess that accompanied them began to trail into the entrance of the ship. Their loud footsteps and intermixing voices filled the space, calling for you once again. And this time, you heard them more clearly.

Rounding the corner of the cockpit, your gaze immediately fell on the horrific sight in front of you. You gasped a little louder than anticipated, hands flying up to cover your mouth.

Currently, Wrecker had one of his bulky arms underneath Hunter's arm to support his weight and help him into the ship. The sergeant was barely able to stand on his own two feet and was clutching the side of his abdomen, wincing at each movement due to the severe pain. His bottom lip was also cut and bleeding slightly.

Behind them, Tech was doing the exact same thing only with Crosshair beside him. Now Crosshair didn't look any better. He walked with a limp and he had a black eye on the right side of his face which was only growing deeper in color with each passing second.

Both Wrecker and Tech were careful to escort the other two into the cockpit. They helped them onto the medical table, double checking to make sure they were settled before beginning to help them strip away the parts of their armor. They meticulously took off each piece with great care so that they wouldn't cause further pain.

Once they were finished putting the spare armor pieces to the side, Wrecker and Tech went to step away and silently joined Echo in the background. The two of them sat in only their blacks. You hurried to stand in front of them, taking a brief second to take in what was in front of you.

"W--What the hell happened to you two?" You demanded an explanation because you had honestly never seen them in a worse state. The two of them kept their eyes closed as they continued to writhe in pain.

"Nothing," Hunter grunted out while still clutching his side. He keened forward in his place in hopes of easing his discomfort.

"We knew what we were doing," Crosshair added. He was panting slightly as if trying to catch his breath. You glanced between the two of them with furrowed eyebrows.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You wondered. You were curious if they were keeping something from you as their vague answers did not satisfy you.

"Ask him," Crosshair hissed. He seemed to glare at his older brother through the corner of his eyes.

"Can we not talk about this right now?" Hunter pleaded. The pain was becoming almost too unbearable for him. He withdrew his hand from his side only to show that his hand was caked in his own blood.

"I'm not doing anything until one of you tells me what the hell happened," you reminded them. Waiting for an answer, you crossed your arms over your chest and glanced between the two of them. Neither of them wanted to look directly at you.

Hesitantly, Hunter lifted his head and looked at his brother sitting right beside him. He breathed steadily to himself to maintain his composure. He desperately needed some medical assistance, but he knew how stubborn you were. So he needed to come up with something.

"M-Mercenaries," Hunter spoke through gritted teeth.

"Mercenaries? Really? " You repeated with a cocked eyebrow. He nodded his head. "You need to work on your lying skills."

"I'm telling the truth," Hunter reassured her. He made a point to hold your gaze, but you still didn't believe him.

"Tech?" You called from over your shoulder without looking away.

"They were otherwise occupied in one of their fights," Tech replied without hesitation and without looking up from his data pad.

"Again?!?" You spoke with such shock that it caused both of them to wince at your words.

"Look," Hunter began. "We didn't really mean to take it as far as we did--"

"Bullshit," you interrupted him. You gestured to his side that he still clutched to help with the bleeding. "He stabbed you for crying out loud!"

"He was really asking for it," Crosshair commented. His eyes still flashed with anger. "And he started it anyways."

"I don't want to hear it," your voice rose a little louder to speak over him. You raised a hand to stop them. "This is the fourth fight you've gotten into this month. And I am here wasting precious materials to fix and bandage you both up each time. It's getting ridiculous!"

"We're sorry," Hunter spoke timidly.

"Don't tell me you're sorry. Tell each other you are sorry."

Neither of them were willing to do this which just proved how narrow-minded and stubborn headed they were towards each other.

Quickly turning away from them, you hurried towards the neatly organized shelf of medical supplies. You reached for various materials, stuffing what you could carry into the contents of your arms. Returning to the medical bench, you laid out the tools to view and inspect clearly.

Using your own data pad, you quickly took a thorough scan of the both of them to survey the extent of their injuries. While Hunter had sustained a knife wound to the left side of his abdomen, it had thankfully not pieced anything important. His knuckles were incredibly brushed and bloody. His lip was cut roughly. He'd definitely feel sore in the morning from taking such a harsh beating.

On the other hand, Crosshair managed to sprain his ankle during his tumble with his brother. He had two bruised ribs which he was lucky they didn't break. And he sported a nasty black eye right over his tattoo.

You quickly assessed that you'd need to help the sergeant first given that he had a knife wound and was still bleeding slightly. You handed the sniper an ice pack for his eye to temporarily ease the pain before you directed all of your attention to the other brother. You gingerly stepped forward to stand between his legs, reaching forward to grasp the edge of his top.

You made sure to help him out of the top of his blacks carefully, being extra mindful of the wound on his left side. He winced slightly as the material bunched around his shoulder. With great discomfort, Hunter managed to raise his arm in order to slide and remove the rest of his top from his arms. He discarded the piece of material onto the floor without a care in the world.

Now Hunter was sitting shirtless on the medical bench. His hand returned to the spot on the side of his abdomen, which was caked in his dried blood and still oozing with fresh blood under his fingertips. Taking the bottle of alcohol disinfectant, you doused a cloth in the clear liquid. You needed to clean the wound before you'd be able to stitch it up.

"This might sting a little," you spoke honestly.

With some hesitation, Hunter removed his hand from his side to allow you space to work. You carefully brought the wet cloth to his bleeding slide, pressing it into the gaping skin. As if on cue, Hunter practically lurched forward in his place. He gripped the edge of the table so tightly that his knuckles started to bleed again. His eyes squeezed shut to block out the pain.

"Sorry," you added because you hated seeing him in pain.

You went to wipe away some of the remaining blood around the wound and cleaned the skin thoroughly. Tossing the bloody cloth onto the table, you went to retrieve a needle and thread so you'd be able to sow it shut right afterwards. You threaded the string through the eye of the needle, leaning forward slightly to begin stitching his skin back together.

This wasn't the first time you'd given any of them stitches since they had many wounds inflicted to them over the years. However, this one could have easily been prevented if Hunter and Crosshair hadn't gotten into their little fight. You worked swiftly and steadily with the needle.

"What was it this time?" You asked out of pure curiosity and you could have sworn that the sergeant tensed under your touch. The two of them glanced at one another as if trying to secretly trying to relay something.

"Like he said: it was nothing." Crosshair spoke for the both of them. He drew his gaze away from his older brother. He recalled the conversation leading up to their fight, but it only made him angrier in the moment.

"Tech?" You repeated without looking away from your work.

"They were fighting over you this time," Tech replied without missing a beat. You raised your eyebrows in slight surprise at this confession, but your thoughts were quickly interrupted.

"Such a fucking tattletale," Crosshair scoffed. He sent his twin a deadly glare, but Tech didn't even seem to notice. He was too absorbed in the contents of his data pad. "He's always been like this," Crosshair said to his brother beside him.

"Yeah, I know. I was always there," Hunter grunted as the needle threaded through his tatted skin once again.

"At least I wasn't a biter as a cadet," Tech shot back. That was when he decided to lift his head so that he could look directly into his brother's narrowed eyes.

"You did bite a lot of people, Crosshair." Wrecker released a hefty laugh. He arms crossed over the length of his chest. He smiled at the fond memories of them as little cadets. "The regs especially."

"Just leave already," Crosshair growled at them.

Not wanting to anger him any longer, the other three members filed out of the cockpit and retreated back into their bunks for the night. They sealed the cockpit door behind them.

"Going back to this fight..." your voice seemed to betray you and trailed off into nothing. You glanced between the two of them as if searching for some kind of answer. "You were fighting over me?"

A quick tie of the thread and a cut with scissors meant your work was done for stitching. Neither of them seemed to say anything as you retrieved some more gauze from the side. You took one of the sergeant's big hands into your own, turning it over to begin wrapping his cut knuckles.

"Yeah," Hunter breathed steadily. He didn't even realize what he confessed to at first, but it was much too late now. "We were."

His eyes were transfixed on the way your fingers moved so delicately against his own. His breath had since caught in the back of his throat. He no longer felt the severe pain coursing through his side. You always managed to make him feel better and it wasn't just your medical skills that did the trick.

For the longest time, Hunter had been utterly fascinated by you. It went far beyond your medical knowledge and expertise in the field. You were known to be an honest and genuine person; someone who every member of his squad had grown to love and respect. You were a gentle-hearted soul which brought a newfound warm light to the otherwise hardcore company of brothers.

Slowly, Hunter watched the way you raised your head to look at him through your lashes. You had just finished wrapping his knuckles, gently laying them back down in his lap. He could feel your breath fanning against his face as you stood right between his legs. He briefly glanced down at your lips. And he wanted nothing more than to capture them in his own. But he knew better than to do something so careless.

You missed the quick glance he casted to your lips, but your eyes were fixed on his cut. You really couldn't do anything about the cut on his lip; it would heal in its own time. He silently thanked you with his gaze alone. And now your attention went to his younger brother sitting beside him.

"Why were you fighting over me?" You asked them with a hint of genuine concern behind your facial expression. You wondered if you'd be able to get a response out of the sniper now that all your attention was directed to him.

"We...we share...a common interest," Crosshair confessed honestly. He would have never said if the rest of his brothers were present, but there was just something about the way you looked up at him that made him cave.

Kneeling down onto the ground, you were able to hoist his bad leg onto your lap. You began to wrap his ankle carefully because you didn't want to cause him anymore pain than he was already in. You looped the stream of gauze around the backside of his ankle, bringing it back over the side and to the front. You briefly glanced up at him.

"In me?" You wanted clarification.

Both Hunter and Crosshair silently nodded their heads in response.

Avoiding their gaze, you went back to tying the knot on the wrapped ankle in your lap. You rose to your feet in a slow manner. You reached for the end of the sniper's top, carefully helping him remove it until he too was shirtless like his brother.

You had seen them shirtless countless times before and you always managed to remain medically professional. But there was something different about them now. This newfound revelation made you look at them in a slightly different light. The mere sight of their bare chests had your breath catching in the back of your throat. You knew if you weren't careful in regulating your breathing, Hunter was going to catch on sooner than later. Hell, he might have already caught on at this point.

You began to wrap a supportive brace around Crosshair's torso of bruised ribs, knowing that they'd need the extra support to help heal over the next couple days. You made sure not to make it too tight or too loose, watching for any discomfort behind his eyes. But you never saw any.

Now, having finished tending to their various injuries, you took a single step backwards and stood timidly in their presence. You still weren't able to look either of them in the eyes. When you realized how long you'd been silent and that they were waiting for some type of response from you, you tried to find the right words to express yourself.

"This is unexpected," you spoke softly. You just couldn't believe that two brothers had gotten into a quarrel over you. It went so far that one of them got stabbed this time around.

Had they fought over your before this? What were they fighting over specifically? Who else knew about this? And what else were they willing to do for you?

"You don't have to do anything with this information," Hunter wanted to reassure you. "And I hope this doesn't make things weird between us."

"It doesn't," you confessed with a small shake of the head. The corners of your lips twitched into a smile. "I'm certainly flattered...and honestly at a loss for words right now. I'm not really sure how to feel."

"You can have all the time in the world to think about how you feel," Hunter replied. He didn't have any expectations of where he wanted this to go for him, but he did want you to be comfortable around them. And you were going to need time to do that now that they had confessed to you.

"I'll...see you both around," you mentioned rather awkwardly.

Taking another step backwards to dismiss yourself from their presence, you wanted to get out of the cockpit before they could see the evident blush creeping onto your cheeks. You sent them a small wave and slipped out of the cockpit before they could say anything else to you.

Just as the door closed, Hunter and Crosshair seemed to breath a small sigh of relief. Their gazes were now directed to the solid steel floor underneath them, thinking about the confession and conversation that had just transpired.

"Well, that's out of the bag now." Crosshair spoke up first.

"Give her some time. I'm sure it's a lot for her to process. She'll come around," Hunter shrugged his shoulders.

"When she does come around, I hope you won't be too heartbroken with her choice." Crosshair taunted him. A sly smirk curved near the corner of his lip, knowing the mere power of his words and how they always managed to irritate his older brother. A deadly glare was sent his way in response.

Crosshair knew just the right thing to say to get under his brother's skin and if he wasn't careful, Hunter was bound to start another quarrel with him. But that's just something brothers do.

Forgiveness | Crosshair from The Bad Batch

Summary: When Crosshair reunites with his old squad, there are some unresolved tension between you.

Warning: spoilers from episode four, slightly jealous Hunter, recalling imprisonment with the empire, some angsty feelings

Pairing: Crosshair x Fem!Reader

Type: Oneshot

Word Count: 2.1k words

Note: Just had this one shot on my mind for a while and wanted to get it fully written. Let me know your thoughts down below!

The past several months had been incredibly difficult for the team. Having just lost Tech and Omega, they didn't quite know what to do or where to go from there. They spent months chasing down leads, desperately searching for any sign that would tell them where the Empire was keeping Omega. But every mission only resulted in another dead end with no usable intel.

It felt like they'd fallen into the same repeating cycle. They'd hear a whisper of something, follow that whisper, and find nothing that could aid them in their search. They refused to give up, especially their leader who was more determined than ever to bring her back home.

After many long tiresome months, their search was finally over. In the end, Omega was the one who had managed to escape from confinement and send a coded message to rendezvous somewhere safe. Now, Omega stood directly in front of them with big tears in her eyes. They'd never felt a stronger sense of relief than having her back safe and sound.

"I had help," Omega told them.

Turning around to face the ship that she'd arrived in, their eyes seemed to follow her line of sight. A figure emerged from the ship's gangplank, descending the ramp slowly. When the infamous sniper came into view, Hunter and Wrecker felt slightly unnerved. They still didn't trust him, watching his movements with extreme caution.

However, as soon as you'd seen him, it almost felt like your heart had dropped to the lowest point in your stomach. Your breath hitched in the back of your throat and you fought the tears that threatened to release. You couldn't believe your eyes.

Sensing your sudden swelling of emotions, Hunter spun around on the heels of his feet to face you. He took a single step forward and reached out to you as if to comfort you, calling your name very so gently.

But you just couldn't look away from Crosshair. Your Crosshair.

The one who had betrayed his family to join the Empire's forces. The one whose chip had activated during the order and changed who he was as a person. The one who hunted you. The one who was finally offered the second chance he wanted so badly by his squad, but refused them in the end. The one who left you and vowed he didn't love you as you had loved him. That Crosshair.

After the Fall of Kamino, Hunter was left to comfort you during one of your lowest times having since been rejected from his younger brother on that platform. He lost count of how many nights you cried yourself to sleep in his arms. You never talked about it, but he knew somehow. That maybe there was still apart of you that cared deeply for him, which was why it hurt all the more.

Now, coming back to your reality, you truly didn't know how to feel. You never thought you'd see him again or if you had expected to see him again, it wouldn't have been in this current situation. He just stood there looking directly at you.

His face was blank. He showed no emotion whatsoever.

Finally, having gathered your courage, you started walking towards him without taking your eyes off him. Hunter had tried to stop you once again, roughly grabbing your forearm to halt your movements.

"Y/n. Wait," Hunter's voice came out rather gruff and harsh.

He was warning you. He didn't know what else to say, but it didn't matter because you quickly tore your hand out of his grasp. And you continued your approach across the space between.

Finally, you came to a halt in front of him. His eyes never looked away from yours and he continued to remain unreadable with his emotions. He waited expectantly.

He didn't know how you'd respond to seeing him again because the last time he had seen you, you confessed your true feelings for him and he chose the empire over you. He'd seen the hurt flash in your eyes when he said he didn't love you, how you fought the tears from falling at his words.

Months later, you were standing in front of him once again. He half-expected you to lash out in anger at him. He wondered what you'd say to him, thinking of how your voice would sound when you tell him: "How dare you show your face again?" He'd even take a couple hits from you if you were angry enough. He wouldn't care, because he deserved all the hate you had for him.

The very last thing that Crosshair expected was to hear a choked sob escape past your lips as your walls came crashing down around you. You closed the distance between the two of you, wrapping your arms tightly around his torso and burrowing your head into his chest. You clung to him so desperately as if you were afraid he'd slip through your fingers again. The tears began to fall down your cheeks as you held him close.

At first, Crosshair didn't know what to do with himself. He stood in your arms stiffly and awkwardly. It took a while before his shoulders finally eased up and he shakily raised his arms to wrap around you. He propped his chin onto the top of your head, relishing in the sweet feeling of your embrace. He closed his eyes slowly.

In the distance, Hunter's gaze hardened. He felt his fists clench at his sides instinctively. A newfound sense of anger began to arise in the pit of his stomach.

"I don't care about the things you've said or the things you've done," you spoke softly. This confession confused him even further. "What matters to me is that you're back."

After another moment, you reluctantly pulled yourself out of his grasp. You flashed him a brief smile, quickly wiping away the tears that stained your cheeks. You created a little distance by taking a step back, wanting to respect his boundaries. He watched you silently because he was honestly too shocked to say anything.

Leaving the rendezvous point in the Marauder, the now reunited members set a course to return to the safe haven planet known as Pabu. The Marauder was traveling through hyperspace, enveloping the entire ship in a tunnel of blue and white flashing stars. The little gonk droid waddled into the cockpit happily.

In the sleeping quarters, Wrecker and Omega had long since fallen asleep in each other's arms. They held Lula between the two of them. If you looked closely, you'd be able to see the faint smiles on their faces while they slept, knowing that they were both so happy to be reunited with one another.

Meanwhile, Hunter tried to busy himself at the control center. He typed on his brother's old data pad, figuring out what their next steps were going to be. If he was being honest with himself, his mind wasn't entirely focused on the task at hand. He often found himself glancing towards the cockpit upon knowing that was were his brother currently resided.

Brushing right past him, you walked directly into the entrance of the cockpit. He watched your retreating figure, which went unnoticed by you. An overwhelming sense of sadness filling his senses as he remembered the longing feeling you felt towards his brother and not him.

When you came into the cockpit, Crosshair was sitting in the copilots chair with his back turned to you. He was chewing on a toothpick, mulling his thoughts over. You were slow to make your presence known to him, gingerly stepping forward in your place.

"I made up your old cot for you," you told him with a hint of hope in your voice. "Thought it would be a good idea for you to get some rest."

He hummed. "And where will you sleep?"

"I--I don't know what you mean," you stumbled over your words, laughing awkwardly to cover it up.

"You used to sleep in my cot during my leave of absence," Crosshair recalled this piece of information because Omega had once told him about it during their time of confinement. "So where will you sleep?" Crosshair repeated himself.

"There's always that extra cot," you said rather sorrowfully. Your gaze fell to the floor when you remembered the notable absence of your squad member.

Hearing your response only made Crosshair close his eyes. It was all still new to him: the fact that he lost one of his brothers. He wasn't used to the feeling of him not being there because he'd always been there. He never imagined what life without Tech would look like. And now, he had to live that reality.

Since Tech died, you hadn't been able to bring yourself to cleaning up his personal space. His old workbench was left exactly how he'd left it with tools and gadgets scattered randomly. His cot was a whole other ordeal. There were wires coming out of places there shouldn't be wires and greasy parts had stained the sheets. Every time you looked at it, it was almost like he was still there living among you. So you never touched it.

That was until now when the need for another sleeping place arose.

"He's been watching you like a hawk," Crosshair's voice was quick to pull you away from your thoughts as he quickly changed the subject. You furrowed your eyebrows in slight confusion.

"Who?" You asked.

"Hunter," Crosshair rolled his eyes. His tone almost hinted: who else would it be?

"Oh," you replied softly, not really knowing how to respond to that.

"He worries about you, you know that right?" Crosshair added. He kept his back to you.

"Well, I--I never..." you threw a brief glance over your shoulder, but you were still at a loss for words.

"He'd be better for you," Crosshair confessed. He dropped his gaze down to his hands which shook ever so slightly in his lap. He clasped them together to stop the shaking. "He's cared about you for a long time and he's been able to take care of you. That's more than I can say."

"Crosshair," you breathed steadily. You called out for him and tried to peer around the chair. "What's this all about?"

Contemplating his next words carefully, Crosshair remained silent for a moment. He closed his eyes and turned his head away as if he wanted to run away from all of his thoughts and feelings. But he knew he couldn't do that.

"I---I care about you," Crosshair confessed, but he still refused to look you in the eyes.

Shoulders depleting at his confession, you felt your own breath escape your throat and your heart clenched tightly in your chest. You struggled to find the words to respond, opening and closing your mouth like a fish out of water.

"B-But I thought..." your voice trailed off as you took a single step forward. You recalled the conversation on Kamino.

"I know what I said!" Crosshair yelled back a little louder than he expected initially. You weakly took a step backwards in retreat, feeling him pushing you away again.

"What changed?" You inquired curiously.

"When I was...in confinement...I had a hard time sleeping," Crosshair began to explain. He kept his gaze locked on his hands as he relived the painful memories. "Every time I managed to fall asleep, I'd think of you. And it made me realize how much I missed you."

There was only silence that followed.

"I've made mistakes; done things that I'm not proud of. But one of my biggest regrets was pushing you away," Crosshair was speaking from the heart.

Before Crosshair knew what was happening, he felt a warm hand come in contact with his cheek. The hand urged him to turn his head and look up directly into your soft and kind eyes. You observed him silently, gazing deeply into the depths of his eyes to look for any deceit or falseness.

But all you could find was a truly broken soul. He had never looked at you like that before with such a tone of pain and hurt behind those eyes. He raised his shaky and unstable hand to grasp your wrist and hold your hand against his cheek. He seemed to lean into your touch, relishing the feeling of your skin against his own.

His hand tremors didn't go unnoticed by you. It was something he carried with him now. And he'd have to find a way to work through that struggle.

There was a part of him that wondered if this was all just another one of his dreams of you. That he'd only imagined escaping prison with Omega, fighting for his life, reuniting with his brothers, and finally confessing his feelings towards you. He closed his eyes and expected to wake up from this horrible dream at any moment. But instead: Crosshair only heard you say.

"I forgive you."

brothers till the end

Crosshair in his old armor tho...

Sergeant Hunter 🧡

about the emperor of magic series, lets say in the future she and kaz have something going on, can she help him with his fear of touch?? like if she can control someone's mind and thoughts, do you think its possible, idk if it makes sense, but i dont how to explain it

Theoretically, you are correct. She could help him overcome his fear, but I don’t think he wants her getting that close to him and in his mind😏