Moonychicky - Untitled

Feeling

Summary: When you and Hunter are left alone on The Havoc Marauder the feelings the two of you have kept well hidden finally come to light...

Pairing: Hunter x Jedi!Reader

Word Count: 5,271

Author's Note: I really don’t know how Hunter’s senses work, especially since they seemed to forget about them as the seasons went on. I like the idea most of fandom subscribes to that all of his senses are heightened but I saw a post once comparing his electroreception to that of a platypus which absolutely kills me. I guess we’ll never know for sure but no matter what I love our dear platypus man LOL

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The Havoc Marauder was uncharacteristically silent as you sat in the cockpit. Most of The Bad Batch, minus Hunter who had stayed behind claiming headache, had left for a supply run earlier and likely wouldn’t be back for a few standard hours. Hunter had retreated to his bunk to sleep moments after the others had left, effectively leaving you alone.

Normally, the chance to explore a new place on a new planet would have thrilled you but like so many other things that had changed recently too. What had once brought excitement now brought fear. You had volunteered to stay with the ship as you didn’t want to risk being seen in a busy spaceport. Not that there were many left in the galaxy that would recognize you, but you just didn’t want to take any chances that might further endanger the squad. Having a former Jedi amongst your ranks was essentially a death sentence these days, and The Bad Batch already had enough heat on them as renegade clones. 

With a sigh, you sunk further into the copilot seat as you stared out the viewport. As much as you appreciated some peace and quiet, which admittedly was hard to come by with the squad, the silence left you with too much time to think. Somedays it was hard to wrap your head around all that had happened. The weight of the grief you felt threatened to drown you when you took a moment to stop and acknowledge it. Everything you had once known, had once believed in had been completely turned upside down. Your friends, your former master, all gone in a moment. 

As far as you knew you had gone from being one of thousands to one of only a few that remained and even then you had only just barely survived. You weren’t sure if your survival was the will of the force or simply just the result of being in the right place at the right time. In your more cynical moments, you believed it really had only been luck. If Jedi masters with far greater power than your own hadn’t survived you felt you really had no right still being alive. It was a thought that kept you up most nights, survivor's guilt. 

Having only been nighted a few rotations before the Clone Wars had started you had never been assigned your own battalion. Instead, throughout the war you had often completed recon and special ops missions that had the GAR assigning small squads of clones to you as needed, mostly commandos. It had been how you had met The Bad Batch in the first place. You’d been paired with the squad on several missions towards the end of the war. In the end, this use of your skills as a Jedi had likely been what had saved you. You hadn’t been near any clones when the order had come through, instead you had been klicks away from the nearest squad scouting. The clones had known you were on the planet though and the manhunt that had happened in the days that had followed Order-66 had nearly claimed your life multiple times. But despite everything that had been thrown your way you had still managed to escape off-world with a blaster wound burning in your side and a broken arm. 

Your first thought had been to simply disappear in the galaxy, to find some small backwater planet to live out the rest of your days but without enough fuel or credits to get you anywhere far, desperation had driven you to seek out Cid. You had used the Trandoshan as an informant many times throughout the war and while you still didn’t trust her it had turned out to be a good idea after all as it had led you directly back to The Batch. 

You’d been terrified at first, drawing your lightsaber on them the minute they had entered the bar, but it had become clear rather quickly that they were not following orders like the other clones had been. They’d explained everything, Order-66, Palpatine, the inhibitor chips, everything that had happened in the days following the end of the war. To hear the truth, that the men you had fought alongside for so many years, your friends, had been used like pawns in a game, treated in such a horrendous way by both The Republic and the new Empire had broken you more than anything else. It had been in that moment as you stared at the squad in front of you in Cid’s dingy bar that you had come to the realization that everything you had once believed in, everything you had fought for had amounted to nothing at all. All it had done was bring about the demise of nearly everyone you had cared for. You hadn’t been protecting the galaxy, you’d just been one part in bringing it to ruin. 

The thought continued to haunt you, even now, months after the end of the war. It had been hard to keep going afterward but being with the Batch and Omega had helped. You had always gotten along well with the squad during the war, in fact, they had become your favourite team to work with and despite not often working with Jedi they had seemed to accept and respect you. You’d always felt welcome amongst them. When they had suggested you stay on with them as they worked with Cid you had initially refused, not wanting to put them in any more danger than they were already in. Even if you had mostly shut yourself off from the force to better hide yourself you still didn’t want to take the chance of being detected. But Cid being Cid hadn’t really given you the option, if you wanted to get the credits you needed to disappear into the galaxy you were going to owe her, and running jobs with the Batch became the only way to do so. 

You sighed as you slid further down in the seat if only your master could see you now. Jedi Knight turned mercenary. Your eyes began to sting as you thought of your lost master. Master Antar Wei had been so very kind, wise, and caring. He’d been a true keeper of the peace, a gentle soul with the strength of a warrior. He had taught you so very much, without his teachings you would not have been the person you are today. He had been as close to a father as you had ever had and his loss was nearly unbearable. Tech had been able to get access to some of the Empire’s files and when Master Wei’s name hadn’t appeared on any of the wanted lists you knew he had likely succumbed to the same fate that nearly all of the Jedi had. 

You startled slightly as the door to the cockpit opened, so lost in your own thoughts you hadn’t heard the approaching footsteps. You swivelled the chair around to turn and look at Hunter as he entered, trying your best to school your features into an expression that would best hide your inner turmoil.

From the look on Hunter’s face, you hadn’t done the best job. His warm brown eyes were filled with concern, the lines of his face taught as he hovered hesitantly just inside the doorway. He shifted from one foot to the other as his eyes briefly swept the cockpit, as though searching for signs of danger, before they settled back on you.  

“Are you… alright?” He asked stiffly, as though he found it uncomfortable to ask you such a thing. His long hair was ruffled, likely from his sleep, making him even more ruggedly handsome than usual. You felt momentarily guilty for disturbing him before you noticed the air of tension that usually surrounded him when he had one of his migraines was no longer present. Only the same unease that had been clinging to him for the past few weeks was there.

Of all the members of The Batch, you had always gotten along best with the Sergeant. You admired his intelligence, his straightforward manner, the sly sense of humour that he let escape every once and a while, and the way he was fully devoted to his brothers. He was one of the most honourable men you had ever met and watching him go from stoic soldier to caring older brother to Omega had been a joy to witness. 

Truthfully you had been wrestling with feelings for the gruff clone that were decidedly not Jedi-like since the very first mission you had been on together. There had always just been something about him that had drawn you to him. His signature always seemed brighter to you in the force, and like a moth to a flame, you had struggled to maintain your professionalism around him. Attachment was forbidden after all and some days when you looked at the ridiculously handsome man you knew your feelings were treading into dangerous territory. That had been before though, you reminded yourself, the Jedi were gone and with it, you supposed the rules you had once lived by were as well. 

At one point you had been certain that your feelings were not just one-sided, Hunter kept his emotions very closely in check, but there had been looks, touches, conversations, and jokes just between the two of you that had set your heart pounding. But that also had been before. It seemed that whatever had been there was now long gone. In the last few weeks, all you had been able to sense from him was tension. He had done almost a complete 180. He no longer talked to you directly unless absolutely necessary, whenever you entered a room he left as soon as he was able to, even on The Marauder he always retreated to the space furthest away from you. A part of you wondered if you were just overreacting but the other knew that you weren’t, something had changed in him and you had no idea what had caused it. Hunter’s cooling towards you had just been another knife in your already fragile heart. You had lost so much and watching him slip away too, even though he’d never been yours in the first place, had only added to your pain. 

You realized suddenly that you had been quiet for longer than what was considered polite you finally spoke, shaking yourself fully from your melancholy thoughts, “I'm fine,” Your voice was soft as you nodded at him. You did your best to plaster a gentle smile on your face in an effort to ease his obvious discomfort.

“Your heart rate was elevated,” Hunter said, answering the question that had been at the forefront of your mind. Though you thought with amusement that you should have known, Hunter’s heightened senses meant there was very little on The Marauder that could be kept secret, “I thought something had happened…” 

“No,” You replied with a soft sigh, shaking your head sadly as you continued, “I just got a bit lost in my thoughts. I'm ok.”  

His warm brown eyes were still intense but some of the worry had drained out of them as he looked at you for another long moment, “Are you…sure?” He asked hesitantly, looking somewhat like he’d rather be anywhere else. 

“I’m sure, thank you, Hunter,” You replied with another nod, hoping to reassure him even though internally your heart was aching at the distance between the two of you. 

“Ok, I’ll uh - leave you to it then…” While Omega’s presence had forced him to get better at dealing with emotions he still had the tendency to avoid emotional confrontations like a plague. But this complete avoidance was new, in the past you might not have talked about it but he had still always seemed to know when you were feeling down or conflicted. You’d spent many hours and missions together sitting side by side, usually, no words were needed as you had always just found comfort in his solid and warm presence, sometimes he would distract you with stories about missions the squad had been on, but often it was just his silent company that he offered. Those moments together had always been your favourite. You still didn’t know where things between the two of you had gone so wrong. 

You watched as he went to turn around and suddenly you found yourself moving from your seat.  Silently and quickly you closed the gap between the two of you, your hand reaching out to grasp his wrist, pulling him to a stop before you could really even consider what you were doing. You were so tired of everything but especially this unspoken conflict the two of you seemed to be in, “Hunter, wait…” 

He turned to look at you with wide eyes before his gaze darted between your face and where your hand was on his wrist. You let go of him, trying your best to ignore the way your palm was tingling from touching him. He’d always had that effect on you but whereas it had been comforting before it now only brought a sense of sadness, a sense of loss.  

“I’m sorry if I’ve done something wrong, or something to upset you in any way…” You said softly, the words suddenly flowing out of you without really thinking. Your heart was beating painfully in your chest and your stomach rolled with anxiety. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze as you continued to speak, too afraid of what you might find in the depths of his eyes if you did, “It was not my intention and if there is anything I can do to fix it I will. Or if my presence isn’t wanted here I understand. I know I’m putting you all in danger by simply existing.”

Finally, you looked back up at him just in time to see Hunter’s expression morph into one of confusion and shock, “What? What do you mean? You haven’t done anything wrong. Why would you think that?” He shook his head, “And no, that’s not - you’re part of this squad and we don’t abandon our own.”

“Then what is it?” You asked, suddenly nervous about confronting him. You’d faced down thousands of droids, beasts, criminals, and other adversaries in your life but staring in the face of your friend as you prepared yourself for rejection was almost more terrifying than going into battle, “You can’t seem to stand being in the same room as me. You always seem to leave as quickly as you can, you only talk to me when absolutely necessary, and even then it’s usually through someone else rather than directly. So, I felt the only reasonable conclusion was that I’ve done something wrong, that I’ve upset you in some way. But I can’t change if you don’t talk to me about it.”

Hunter seemed shell-shocked as he stood in front of you, his mouth opened and closed a few times. You could feel the rush of emotions from him without even really trying, but it was so jumbled you couldn’t make sense of any of them. Even in the dim light of the cockpit, you could see his face flushing, which was something entirely new. You had never seen Hunter this nervous before. He was quiet for so long that you were beginning to think he wasn’t going to answer. 

“I don’t - I’m not angry at you. I’ve never been more relieved than that day you showed up at Cid’s. I - I thought you had died but then you came back to us, to m-, and you’re a part of this squad. You haven’t done anything wrong…” Hunter finally spoke, his voice deep and rumbling in his chest, “I’m not upset…” 

The way he trailed off left you with more questions than answers, so you simply stayed quiet, hoping he would continue. 

He took a breath, as though he was steadying himself prior to battle, “You’re…You’re not the problem,” he said finally, “I am.”

You waited another long moment for him to elaborate, but when it seemed like that was all the explanation he was going to give you took a few steps towards him, closing the gap between you.

“What do you mean?” You asked. He seemed to tense at your proximity and at this distance, you could see the way his pupils dilated, the way his nostrils flared momentarily, the slightest flush of red on his cheeks. Your own heart was suddenly pounding in your chest at the intensity of his gaze.  

“I just…I…” He started then stopped, redness was beginning to creep its way up his neck and you were surprised to hear he sounded… embarrassed.

“I can…” He tried again, his voice suddenly lower and rougher than you had ever heard it before, “I just feel you more than anyone else. I always have.” 

Suddenly everything seemed to click into place, the feeling that had always been there between the two of you, the looks, the touches, the soft way he had always spoken to you, his sudden running away, the emotions he tried so hard to dampen around you. You couldn’t believe you hadn’t figured it out before, that his sudden avoidance was not a rejection of you. It was fear.   

You took another step closer, watching his face closely as you grasped his wrist gently once more. His eyes widened at your touch and his entire body seemed to stiffen but he didn’t pull away from you. 

“What do you feel Hunter?” You asked softly, your voice steady despite the fact that you were thrumming with nervous energy. You couldn’t stop the question from flowing out of you. Maybe it was wrong to ask, maybe it went against everything you had been taught, but you found that in that moment, as you stared up at him you didn’t care anymore. 

He let out a shuttering sigh before his head dipped just slightly to meet your gaze. His eyes were molten and so intense that you felt as if suddenly every nerve ending in your body were alight. You had kept your connection to the force limited in the past few months but you let your hold on it loosen in that moment, letting it surround the two of you. You listened to it sing, just as it had done every time the two of you had been together in the past. 

“Everything. I can hear your voice in a crowd of a hundred, I can smell you even when you’re not around, and I can feel your heartbeat in a different room. When you’re near me I can’t take my eyes off of you and even when you’re gone I can’t stop thinking about you,” Hunter’s voice was a husky whisper, “It-it’s not appropriate but I can’t seem to control myself. So it’s just better if I leave you alone.” 

You were quiet for a long moment, considering before you spoke softly again, “Better for who?” 

His eyes widened, as though he couldn’t quite believe what you had just asked. Before you could have enough time to second guess yourself you reached out gently to place your hand over his heart. Even without your own heightened senses, you would have been able to feel the way it was pounding in his chest. You had never been so close to him before in such a way and the sensation was thrilling. It was as if the air itself between the two of you was humming with energy. 

The brown of his irises had been almost completely engulfed by the black of his pupils as you looked back up at him, “I feel you too Hunter. I have from the moment we first met. The force feels different around you too, like you’re calling to me.” 

You closed your eyes as his hand reached up to cup your jaw ever so tentatively as if he were afraid that his touch would shatter you. Your skin thrummed under his touch and you pressed further into his hand, revelling in the sensation of finally being so close to him. For so long you had been so worried that his feelings for you had shifted. To have the truth finally out in the open felt as though the weight of the galaxy had suddenly lifted off of your shoulders. 

“But you’re a Jedi,” Hunter said softly, hesitantly, causing your eyes to pop open once more, “It’s not allowed.” 

“Attachment,” You replied as a wave of sadness washed through you. The words the Masters had once preached echoed through your head, “You’re right, it is forbidden. Or it was. I’ve spent so many days and nights thinking about the Jedi Order, about all that has been lost. And I still don’t know the answers to the questions I have, I don’t know that I ever will. But I can’t help but think that our ways only led to our downfall. Perhaps if we had done things differently if we hadn’t been so blinded by our own morality…” 

“I suppose we’ll never know. But the one thing I do know is that I want whatever this is between us. I’m not sure how something that feels so right, something that seems to be part of the force itself, can be considered wrong. I don’t know how many days are left to me, I am no longer a Jedi but I will live the rest of my life in danger. I do not wish to live the way I was before. I want you Hunter, I have since the moment I met you.” 

As you had spoken Hunter’s head had slowly lowered down towards yours until you were nearly touching. At your final words, his forehead had pressed against your own. His gaze was still intense as ever so slowly the hand on your jaw tipped your face up towards his own. His voice was so low when he spoke again that you felt it more than heard it, “I’m yours.” 

His words were all the encouragement you needed to close the final gap between the two of you, capturing his lips with your own in a desperate kiss. He was warm and wonderful and everything you had ever dreamed of. The hand you still had resting over his heart curled in the fabric of his blacks, pulling yourself closer to him as he deepened the kiss. His free hand came up to press against the small of your back, the heat of it searing into your skin as you gently nipped at his lower lip. You’d had dalliances with others before, that hadn’t been forbidden , but you had never experienced anything quite like this. The force seemed to come alive as the two of you melted into one another, thrumming in the air around you. Everything else seemed to fade away into nothing , there was only Hunter. 

A soft moan escaped him as you pressed further up into him, the sound rumbling in his chest and sending a shiver down your spine. You lifted your free hand to the back of his neck, fingers threading through his surprisingly soft hair. You’d always wondered what it would have been like to run your fingers through it and reality was proving to be better than expectation. He seemed to shiver at your touch, the hand at the small of your back flexing just slightly as he pulled your hips flush against his own. You could still feel his heart racing beneath where your other hand was still fisted in his shirt as his tongue pressed against your lower lip. You parted your lips, giving him access and gasping at the new sensation as his tongue explored your mouth. It was dizzying finally being so close to him, to be this connected. 

After what could have been simply minutes or hours Hunter pulled away from you, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. Your own pulse was still racing as he tipped his forehead back down to rest against your own. His eyes were closed as he pressed further into you, nose just brushing against your own as he held you close. 

You were both silent for a long time, simply basking in the warmth and feeling of being in each other's arms. But finally, Hunter spoke, his voice low and rough, “I’m sorry that I’ve been avoiding you, that I made you feel as though you’d done something wrong,” 

Your eyes opened, gazing up into his face that was suddenly filled with sorrow. You let the hand at the back of his neck slowly move until it cupped his jaw, mimicking his own hold on you, “It’s ok Hunter, everything has been so complicated lately. And I understand how conflicted you must have felt, I’ve felt that way too.” 

Hunter let out a soft sigh and with it you felt all of the tension he had been holding dissipate, his muscles relaxing beneath your hand as he seemed to melt further into you. He closed his eyes as his thumb gently stroked along your jawline, the sensation of it was electric and you wanted nothing more than just stay there and bask in his presence forever. 

His breath was warm against your face as each inhale brought you closer together. He tipped his head just slightly, his lips gently brushing against your own in the barest hint of a kiss, once, twice, before you pressed deeper into him. You shivered as your lips melted into his, tongue sliding over his full bottom lip before giving it the gentlest nip that made his chest rumble with another groan. 

The two of you came slowly together and apart, gasps and gentle moans escaping you both and you discovered this new part of one another. Your heart was racing in your chest, your skin tingling with each soft touch of his lips to your own, your skin flaming beneath his hands. The feeling is intoxicating and you have just enough wherewithal to briefly wonder if this is exactly why attachment was forbidden, because truthfully now that you have him you never wish to let him go. 

Eventually, you do pull away, instantly missing the contact but forcing yourself to look up at him as he moves both arms to wrap around your waist. You take a moment to simply look at him as your breath begins to even out once more, eyes tracing the lines of his face, the dark shadow of his tattoo. You’ve always appreciated how handsome he was but being so close is something special. You get lost in him for a moment as you notice the flecks of green in his warm brown eyes, the freckles across the bridge of his nose that are so faint they barely stand out against his deeply tanned skin, the dimple that appears only on the left side of his face as his mouth lifts into a soft smile as he gazes right back at you. 

You blink once, twice, trying to clear your mind of the distraction that he is and focus on the thought that had originally pulled you away from him. 

“How is your headache?” You asked gently, a small wave of guilt for having woken him in the first place rushing through you. It had been the reason he had stayed behind after all, and it wasn’t very often he had the chance to get any extra rest with the lifestyle you all led. 

His mouth curled into a smile and he let out a small huff of laughter, his hair flopping over the top of his bandana as he shook his head, “It’s fine. Forgotten actually,” He replied as he moved his hand to cradle your face once more, his touch feather-light. 

“Good,” You answered before you turned your head just slightly to press a soft kiss to the palm of his hand, “But you should still get some rest. It’s not easy to come by these days.” 

He hummed thoughtfully, his gaze still intense as he moved his hand away from your face, both trailing down slowly until he had your hands grasped in his own, “Only if you join me though.”

You felt your face flush at his suggestion, you wanted to, desperately, but another worry suddenly entered your head at the idea, “The others might be back soon, though…” This was still new and while part of you didn’t care if his brothers and sister saw the two of you together the other part wanted to keep this budding thing between you secret for just a little bit longer, if only for his sake as you knew how intensely private Hunter was. 

Hunter’s mouth ticked up into a smirk again, his brown eyes dancing with amusement as he answered, “Tech has been calculating the odds of us getting together since our very first mission and Omega has some Mantell mix riding on it.” 

You couldn’t stop the soft laugh that burst out of you at that, a bright smile overtaking your face, “Well, we wouldn’t want to let them down, now would we?” 

His eyes were warm and there was the barest hint of a smile on his face before he lifted your hand closer to his mouth, pressing a soft and quick kiss to your palm. Your smile brightened at his replication of your earlier gesture, the skin beneath his lips tingling from the contact. 

You let him lead you back towards the bunks, your pulse racing beneath your skin as he climbed up into the middle first before holding a hand back out to you to steady you as you found your own footing. It was a tight squeeze, but after some mild shifting you finally settled, your head resting against his chest as he laid on his back, his arms coming up to wrap around you and hold you closer to him as you let your leg rest over top of his own. Being so close to him every feeling you had ever sensed from him was amplified and it was easy to just get lost in the sensation of him as you listened to the steady sound of his heartbeat. Neither of you said a word, for there really weren’t any words to be said. Nothing had ever felt so right before and there was no way you were ever going to let that go, ever let him go again. 

It didn’t take long for your eyes to slip shut or for his own breathing to even out, his grip on you never lessening though even as he slept. The trauma of the past few years still haunted you as you lay with him but the thoughts were easier to push away as you focused on the force and the way it moved around the two of you, calming, gentle, right. You knew that nothing could ever truly repair the damage left by your losses but for the first time in a very long time, there was a glimmer of hope brewing in your chest. With Hunter, there was a chance at a future, something you hadn’t been able to even consider since Order-66 had been issued. 

You weren’t sure what that future would hold, for any of you, but right now, wrapped up gently in Hunter’s arms you felt safer than you ever had and there was nowhere else in the galaxy you would rather be. 

❤️❤️

The Tower

Summary: Gasping for air, unsteady hands, blurred vision - Why did this have to occur during the midst of battle?

At least Tech knows how to help.

Word count: 1.7k

Pairing: Tech x GN!Reader. Can be read as platonic or romantic.

Tags: Panic attacks, Anxiety attacks, Angst, Comfort, Happy ending.

Notes: I've had maaaaany requests for some angsty comfort with Tech. About time I wrote it! Based on my favourite tarot card - The Tower.

When the tower begins to crumble, it's bound to fall.

Built on an uneasy foundation, it was only so long until your walls began to chip away, and with it, the rest of the structure started to collapse.

And whilst you are somewhat used to that sensation, you're not used to this out-of-place timing.

"We'll regroup at the Marauder," Hunter's voice comes through your comm, strapped to your wrist. Tech is the first to reply, mumbling a swift, "affirmative," before returning his full focus to his blasters. He is, as always, quick and precise with them, saving ammunition until he's certain that his shot will be a hit - a trait that he's picked up from one of his brothers.

One by one, the droids fall, and whilst this is child's play, you seem to be struggling.

There's a pain in your chest, a weight, gripping at your lungs and crushing them from the inside out. Your hands, often steady with your weapon, are jittering more and more as every moment passes. And your throat fails to relax, causing your breaths to become shorter, faster, until your head begins to spin from lack of oxygen.

Knowing that you need a moment - a brief moment to set your bearings straight - you duck behind a crate and press your back up against it, barely looking up to watch Tech finish off what's left of your opponents.

This brief moment blurs on for an eternity, and the more that time passes, the worse you become. Your knees come up to press against your chest, palms gripping onto your weapon, as if it's somehow going to steady you during this emotional ride. The sound of your name being called out to you fades from your ears, and a ringing takes its place.

That is, until a firm hand finds your shoulder, and you flinch.

"Oh," Tech sighs, his fingers flexing shut as he watches your eyes meet his. Reddened cheeks, wide pupils, tears threatening to spill from your waterline - something isn't right, but it doesn't take a genius like Tech to realise that.

Rather than placing his hand on you again, Tech speaks your name in a soft tone. "Are you alright?" he brings the important question to light, and from your silent response, he takes it that the answer is no.

Once more, Tech mutters your name, and he's extremely cautious as he gently wraps his hand around your bicep, attempting to offer you some form of stability. "Are you hurt?" Tech questions, and to his surprise, you manage to shake your head.

"Alright," Tech nods, calm and patient. He pauses, his eyes wandering over your form, analysing the state that you're in. By now, you're sobbing, but there's still a washed glisten of fear in your vision, as if you're staring down at your worst nightmare - an imaginary ghost that he cannot see.

Tech crouches down, positioning himself on one knee by your side. His thumb subconsciously begins to rub back and forth against your arm. "I think I understand what's happening," Tech comments. "Although, I do not know how to help. If I can be of any assistance, then please, inform me how."

Sniffles fill the air after you suck in a few deep breaths. "I don't know," your words merge into one, but Tech manages to make them out.

"We need to remove you from this environment," Tech decides, forming the first steps of his recovery mission. "May I take your hand?" he offers.

Tech's heart softens out as you slide your hand into his, allowing him to pull you up with ease. You're a jittering mess, that much is obvious as Tech wraps your arm around his, and begins guiding you out of this hellhole. Thank the Maker that your opponents are down, else that would only worsen things.

"Our safest place is the Marauder. Are you comfortable with me comming Hunter, and asking him to pick us up?"

You instantly nod, knowing that the Marauder brings you a feeling of warmth and security. "But I don't want the others to see me like this," you blurt out, and Tech simply nods his head with understanding.

"Of course," he confirms. "I will lead us onto the shuffle, and keep the others distracted whilst you retreat to your private quarters. I'll inform the others that you need assistance, but sway them from interfering. From there, I'll join you, and we will set our next steps to recovery."

Tech follows up his plan with a simple, "how does that sound?" and lets out a pleasant hum when you agree to it. From there, his plan begins springing into motion, and before you know it, the Marauder is coming into your line of sight with the cockpit door lowered.

As always, Wrecker is waiting at the doorway with his hand extended, always eager to help you on board, but Tech politely pushes past and begins muttering something under his breath. Through Wrecker's fully armoured form, you can tell that he's taken aback, but backs off unquestionably, allowing you to scurry past and disappear down the hallway.

The second that you reach your dorm, the downpour of your tears breaks out into a thunder, and you barely manage to shrug off your coat and shoes before curling up into your bunk.

It takes Tech exactly twenty-three seconds before he's entering your dorm without a knock, seeing as you consented to it beforehand. "Oh dear," he coos as he enters, and his hand hovers over the lock before questioning, "shall I lock it?"

"No, thank you," you shake your head at the same time, and with it, Tech eases off.

A tall glass of water is placed on your bedside table, almost overflowing with how close the water is reaching the rim. Tech takes a seat beside you, and a hand comes to rest on your forearm. To his surprise, you shrug it off, only to wrap your hands around his waist in a desperate attempt for comfort. Tech accepts you, cradling you against his chest, hushing you in a soft tone.

"Let it all out," Tech coos, comforting you as the tears continue to fall. His hands stroke and grasp at your back, attempting to provide as much comfort as he can. Tech is somewhat familiar with this subject, although it's been a long time since he's ever had to support it, and an even longer time since he has received such support.

Tech's last occurrence was back when he was a Cadet. One of his fellow brothers broke down into a state of panic, and Tech, being the sweetheart that he has always been, could only hug them as the moment passed. 

Since the war broke out, it's rare to find a moment for your emotions to overspill, seeing as everyone is always up on their feet - Troopers and Jedi alike. You’re no stranger to the sight of seeing men hunched over at the end of battle, their form exhausted, stress lines present on their skin, and a look of desperation in their eyes. Perhaps they have also noticed that in you. 

The hard form of Tech's chest armour lies pressed against your cheek, and only when your panicked state starts to relax, do you realise how uncomfortable the plastoid surface is. With an uncomfortable expression, you move your head away, gazing up at Tech with tear filled eyes.

"It appears my armour has left its mark," Tech comments, earning a soft laugh from you.

"Remind me to never cry into your armour again," you swat back. Your hand trails over the indent left on your cheek, and for whatever reason, that pulls you from your dark thoughts.

Warm eyes meet yours, still laced with concern, his brows raised accordingly. “I will bear it in mind, if the… incident ever occurs again.” 

“I hope it doesn’t,” you state with a sigh. The sides of your fists come up to rub your eyes, attempting to fresh the life up in them. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” you apologise, your hands now finding comfort in your lap, fingertips fidgeting with each other.

“Do not apologise,” Tech responds with sternness. “Please, I will never accept your apology for something like that.” 

You can’t help but let out a chuckle. “Message received,” you say with a smile. “Let’s just hope it doesn’t happen again.” 

“And if it does, you know I will always be here to assist you. I am… no stranger to what just happened,” Tech explains, his eyes drifting from yours as his shoulders soften. Now, you’re no longer the saddest person in the room. 

“Care to share?” you question. 

“Ah, well-” Tech waves his hands as his back straightens. “It is not my information to share, but I can inform you that I have seen this happen before. Multiple times, really. Being a Cadet was never easy…” 

Your hand comes to rest on his forearm, a gesture that is not left unnoticed. “I’m sorry,” is all you can sigh. 

“Did I not just inform you to never apologise for such things?” Tech responds in a firm tone, yet there’s a playful smile on his lips. You mimic his expression, soon letting out a laugh. Tech’s hand rests atop of yours, giving you a firm squeeze before suggesting, “shall we go and see the others? Wrecker especially looked awfully concerned about you.” 

“Yes,” you agree with a nod. “I wouldn’t want to keep any of them worrying. I’m alright now.” 

“That, you are,” Tech confirms. He rises to his feet, and offers you a hand. You accept it, steadying yourself on uneven legs, your muscles still relaxing after a storm of negativity. 

Before exiting your dorm, Tech lets out a soft, “do not forget your water,” as he holds the door open for you. A glass of water in hand, and you head out to regroup with your squad, your friend close behind, always ready to have your back - if you ever need it.

I just love anything tension filled when it comes to Crosshair... then it ends with the admission of feelings. The same formula and I will consume 1000 times

Hi there, I've never done a request before, so fun! 🤗 Could you do angst/fluff (enemies to lovers) with fem reader and Crosshair? "What are you staring at?" / "You, is that a problem?" I'd love for the fem reader to give Cross a dose of his snark, so maybe she's the one saying "You, is that a problem?" Some snark to fluff would be wonderful. Thank you for all you do! ❤️

Under the Moon 🌊

🫧 pairings: Crosshair x Female!Reader

word count: 2k

prompts:

• “What are you staring at?” / “You, is that a problem?”

Crosshair didn’t like new people so naturally, he didn’t like you. Or did he? He can bark but you show him that you can certainly bite back.

warnings: Safe for Work, Enemies to Lovers, Kissing, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Bickering, Sassy Moments, Light Angst, Scar/Burn Insecurities, Female Reader.

authors note: sorry for the wait, hope this is okay @megmegalodondon 🫧

The Marauder buzzed with activity, each member of the squad engrossed in their routines. The hum of machinery and quiet murmur of voices filled the air. You were content assisting Tech when a burning sensation prickled on the side of your face, like the intensity of a laser sight. You didn’t need to turn to know who was staring.

Since joining the team, Crosshair’s disdain had been clear. From the moment of his return, he made it obvious he didn’t like you. The others mentioned he wasn’t fond of people in general, and new members who acted like they knew everything were especially irritating to him. Unfortunately, that was you to a tee. Your confidence and cleverness only seemed to amplify his irritation.

As you worked at the main console running diagnostics, you felt Crosshair’s gaze drilling into you. Stealing a glance, you shot him a look of annoyance, but his face remained an impassive mask, eyes like cold steel.

You muttered under your breath, turning back to your task, but his presence was an undeniable distraction. Despite his abrasive attitude, you couldn't ignore his striking looks—though you'd never admit it aloud. His chiseled jaw, the intensity in his eyes, the way his hands worked methodically over his rifle — it was all infuriatingly attractive. Sadly his snarky attitude was less than desirable.

“Can you keep the static to a minimum?” Crosshair’s sharp voice cut through the silence, jolting you from your thoughts. His brows were furrowed in irritation, lips a thin line.

You rolled your eyes, fingers pausing on the controls. “It’s called doing my job, Crosshair. Maybe you should try it sometime.”

He set his rifle down with a clatter and stood, his tall frame casting a long shadow over you and his eyes bore into you. “My job is to keep us safe, and I can’t do that if I can’t concentrate.”

“Oh, please. Like your concentration is ever that perfect,” you retorted, standing to meet his gaze. “Or maybe you’re just looking for an excuse to complain.”

His brown eyes darkened, a dangerous glint in them. “I don’t need excuses to point out incompetence.” He stepped closer, the tension between you thick.

“Incompetence? You—” Your retort was cut short by Omega’s innocent voice from her corner, breaking the charged atmosphere.

“Why do you two always fight? It’s like you actually like each other or something.”

Wrecker, lounging on a crate nearby, let out a booming laugh. “Yeah, it’s like a schoolyard crush! You both just need to admit it!”

Your face flushed with embarrassment, heat rising to your cheeks. “What? No! That’s ridiculous,” you spluttered, glaring at the two of them. “Crosshair would be the last guy in all the galaxy I’d ever get with.”

Crosshair crossed his arms, a smug smirk playing on his lips. “Feeling’s mutual.”

Tech glanced up from his datapad, adding his two credits. “Statistically, opposites do attract. It’s not entirely out of the question.”

You and Crosshair turned on him in unison. “Shut up, Tech!”

He raised an eyebrow, unfazed. “Charming. But that just proves my point.”

Your embarrassment deepened as the rest of the squad chuckled. “I’m done with this,” you muttered, turning on your heel and storming away from the others.

Omega’s voice trailed after you, “We were just teasing!”

The next day, you were tasked with scouting a base for Rex, determining the best points for a future infiltration. The dense jungle surrounded you, the air thick with humidity, leaves glistening with moisture and you’re still in a sour mood from yesterday which is only to worsen. As you navigated through the underbrush, Hunter’s voice cut through your thoughts.

“You and Crosshair will go ahead together. Maybe sort out your differences while you’re at it.” Clearly, yesterday’s bickering had reached his ears, and this was your punishment. Crosshair merely grunted, a typical response, and began moving ahead without waiting for you. Reluctantly, you followed.

The jungle was alive with the chirps and calls of unseen creatures, the air heavy with the scent of damp earth and foliage. At the coordinates, Crosshair suggested a lookout point, but you were less than convinced. “You’re out of your mind if you think that’s a good vantage point,” you stated, shooting him a stern look.

He raised an eyebrow, his face a mask of annoyance. “And where would you suggest, General?” he drawled, sarcasm dripping from every word.

You pointed to a higher spot, frustration evident in your voice. “There, we’ll have a better view of the perimeter.”

Crosshair crossed his arms, a mocking smile on his face. “That’s weak. We’ll be seen.”

Your face flushed with annoyance because this wasn’t the first time he disagreed with you, it was almost every single time.

“Or maybe you can’t handle the climb and that’s why you’re opting for the lower point?” You challenge.

His smirk faded slightly, and he took a deliberate step closer, invading your space. With a fluid motion, he removed his helmet, locking his intense eyes on you. “You’re new here, Kitten. Maybe you should learn to trust my judgment.” His voice low and testing.

Your heart pounded, and you could feel the heat radiating from him. “Trust your judgment?” You scoff, doing your best to ignore the petname he just gave you. “You’re so arrogant!” you retorted whilst also trying to ignore how his proximity affected you.

Crosshair leaned in even closer, his breath brushing against your face. “Arrogant? Or just right?” His gaze flicked down to your lips, lingering. “You should watch that pretty mouth of yours.” The air between you crackled with tension, and for a brief, electrifying moment, it seemed like he wanted to kiss you. Or maybe you wanted to kiss him.

But did he just call you pretty? Was he mocking you? Either way, you find yourself in a sudden daze as you’re hypnotised by his eyes. The realisation hits you hard, leaving you momentarily speechless and strangely drawn to him despite your better judgment.

His breath is warm, scented but breathing deadly silent. If you closed your eyes, you probably wouldn’t even assume he was mere inches from you but he was and it was consuming.

Before either of you could react, a blaster shot rang out, shattering the moment. “Cover’s blown,” Crosshair snapped, his voice yanking you both back to reality. He sprang into action, and you followed, the adrenaline overtaking your argument.

Maybe, it was best to leave the arguing for after the mission.

Later that night, the squad had returned to Pabu, the mission a success despite the rocky start you and Crosshair had caused by not paying attention.

The others were inside the Marauder, their laughter and chatter a comforting presence. The warm, humid air wrapped around you as you stepped outside, needing space to clear your head, especially to think about what had happened earlier with a certain Sniper.

The tropical night was alive with sounds—creatures chirping, leaves rustling in the gentle breeze, and the distant call of birds. You wandered down to the beach, the soft, damp sand cool beneath your bare feet. The waves lapped rhythmically at the shore, and the moon hung low in the sky, casting a silver path over the water.

As you walked along the shore, you noticed a lone figure lying on the beach. At first you panicked thinking someone was injured but upon closer inspection, silhouetted against the moonlit horizon, it was Crosshair.

He lay on his back, arms folded behind his head, staring up at the vast expanse of the night sky. His usually stern features seemed softer in the moonlight, lost in thought.

For a moment, you considered turning back, but something compelled you to approach him. The sand crunched softly beneath you feet you drew closer, stopping a few feet away. You don’t say anything at first and then end up doing something unexpected—you lay down beside him, your eyes tracing the same stars he was watching. Did he do this often?

Supposedly all the time he spent in a cell made stargazing a rare luxury.

The usual tension between you seemed to vanish in the night air. Crosshair remained silent, his face expressionless as you both lay there, the silence stretching out, surprisingly comfortable.

After a few minutes, you turned your head slightly, your hair brushing against the sand as you watched him. His profile was illuminated by the moonlight dancing; casting sharp shadows and highlighting the lines of his face.

Just like you had noticed him staring at you the day before, he sighed. “What are you staring at?” he asked, his voice low and rough, like gravel.

“You. Is that a problem?” you replied, tone challenging.

He shifted slightly, his eyes flicking towards you before returning to the sky. “Are you looking at my scar?”

“No,” you replied with a small frown, not realising that might be a sensitive topic for him. You had heard about how he got it, but it wasn't something you consciously noticed.

“Good. Look away,” he grumbled, but there was no real anger in his voice. Instead of arguing, you did as he asked, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

After a few minutes, Crosshair sighed once more. “Tech was right.”

You turned your head, confusion knitting your brows together. “About what?”

His gaze remained fixed on the moon, his profile bathed in its soft light. “Sometimes, opposites do attract.”

You were taken aback, eyes widening and quite unsure of how to respond. “Really?”

He nodded slowly, the movement almost missable. “I secretly admire how you take my comments on the chin and aren’t afraid to speak your mind. It’s... admirable.” His voice was awkward, as if admitting his feelings was a foreign concept. His usual mask of indifference slipped slightly, revealing a hint of vulnerability.

Surprise washed over you. All this time, you had thought Crosshair hated you. His constant criticism, the way he always seemed to challenge you—it had all felt like disdain. But now, you realized it was his strange way of showing respect, of acknowledging your strength.

“You could’ve gone about it a different way, y’know?”

“I know.” He responds stiffly.

You smile softly. “That’s a strange way to apologise to me as well.” You jest.

There’s a very faint chuckle that parts his lips as he says, “don’t push it.”

A heartfelt silence settled between you, the sound of the waves the only interruption. But, you still had one thing on your mind.

Breaking the silence, you asked, “Earlier, during the mission... what do you think went wrong?”

Crosshair's expression hardened slightly, his eyes narrowing. “We were distracted. We weren’t focused.”

You bit your lip, gathering your courage. “I thought... for a moment, I thought you were going to kiss me. Would you have?”

Crosshair fell silent, his expression unreadable in the dim light.

Oh no. Why did you have to open your mouth?

Embarrassment flushed through you, and you began to sit up, ready to leave. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

Before you could finish, his hand reached out, gently stopping you. He said nothing, his gaze intense and unreadable as he held onto your arm.

Slowly, he sat forward and tilted your face towards his, his touch surprisingly gentle. Without a word, he leaned in and kissed you, a brief but electrifying connection that left you breathless, your heart trying to leap out of your chest.

The kiss was soft, tentative, as if he was testing the waters. He pulled back before you could even comprehend what was happening, his eyes searching yours, and for once, there was no hostility, only a vulnerable sincerity.

“How’s that for an apology?” he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper, his breath warm against your lips.

You lick your lower lip, having to suppress a dreamy sigh as you could taste him on your tongue. “Surprising.” You say softly, completely smitten all of a sudden.

He smirks, eyes scanning your face. “I’ve never seen you so bashful,”

“Yes, well, kissing someone who you thought was your enemy tends to have that effect.”

He chuckles, lifting his hand and tucking some hair that was dancing in the soft breeze behind your ear. “How about another one?”

You grin, leaning in close. “I won’t say no to that.”

Masterlist is pinned ♥️

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@ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog

@pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87

@ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @lamiliani @imalovernotahater @sithstrings @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @yunggoblin @photogirl894

reblog if you’re gay, shy or a fucking idiot

I didn't have Rampart screaming in all the varieties on my bingo list but here we go.

Can’t be the only one right?😁😁🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

That was beyond perfect! Absolutely loved both the roughness and gentler side of Crosshair in the fic. Smut was 👌 My boy stirggles with emotions but we know he'd be one of the most deep feeling individuals, I just loved it. Xx

I Want More, More

Crosshair x Reader Oneshot

WOW, I broke 20 followers! Thank you, thank you for reading my little fics, it means the world! Have a Crosshair battling with his feelings oneshot!

Word Count: 4605

Summary: Crosshair is made aware that he has not been treating you like he should. He has a crisis about it before talking to you like an adult, kind of.

Warnings: Here there be smut, minors begone, Crosshair struggling with his feelings is its own warning, Crosshair is a dick until he's not, he's a moron your honor, slightly desperate Crosshair, rough sex into talking into gentle sex into rough sex again, oral (m receiving), oral (f receiving), p in v sex, language, some derogatory pet names, talking during sex, reader is afab, there's porn here I promise, you just have to get through Crosshair's angst

This wasn’t fucking working.

Crosshair was near madness, and he was sure you were reaching a point where you needed a break. You’d never let him fuck your mouth for this long before. But there you were, topless, tears streaming down your face, knees probably scuffed or even bleeding from the durasteel floor, nevermind that you still had your pants on. And yet you pushed through, voicing not a word of complaint as you gagged on his persistent cock.

And he wasn’t anywhere close to finishing.

You should be complaining, he decided. What had it been? Thirty minutes? Fifty? Crosshair couldn’t keep track of anything except his own frustration, and that was making him a terrible lay. And if there’s one thing he would be loath to be terrible at, it was sex.

His cock throbbed, his balls ached, and you kept moaning. He growled.

Sooner or later, you’re going to hurt her. She’s going to get tired of this, and she’s going to leave. Hunter’s words from earlier in the week creeped back into his mind, and any hope of salvaging this situation dissipated into thin air.

Crosshair abruptly pulled you off his length and backed away, tugging his pants up as he went. Still you knelt, breathing heavily, awaiting what he’d do next. It was the arrangement you’d both worked out months ago. You allowed yourself to be used as he saw fit, and he made sure you left satisfied and ready for dreamless sleep. No feelings, no complications. It had worked well for a long time. But he looked at you then, your face a mess, your curled legs trembling, and for the first time, he couldn’t stand the sight.

She deserves someone who cares deeply about her, Echo’s voice, well, echoed in his head, as unbidden as Hunter’s had been. His nosy brothers had held an intervention of sorts a few days ago while you were out getting supplies. It had started with Tech’s “We want to know what you are doing with our medic,” gone through Wrecker’s “You know she likes you, right? Like, a lot,” and ended with a long speech from Hunter about how “One day Crosshair, you’re going to wake up and realize that she’s moved on. For some reason, she really cares for you. And you’re treating her like a meaningless one night stand, except you keep doing it over, and over and-”

It was stupid. You both liked what you were doing. You were both consenting adults with the power to walk away at any time. You were both happy and fulfilled with that. It was enough.

Except for the past few days, it hadn’t been.

Crosshair began to really notice certain things since the talk with his brothers. Like how you always met him with a cheery good morning, and how you didn’t expect an answer in return. How you’d sit next to him while he cleaned his rifle, content to do all the talking if he just listened. How you always ran over after a close call on missions, frantic about his safety and never expecting him to inquire about your wellbeing, even if you were covered in soot and limping away from an explosion. 

He realized you were giving more, much more to your…friendship, than he was. And that didn’t sit well with him. Your relationship was supposed to be transactional, and here you were, giving him attention and assistance and contact without expecting one damn solitary thing in return. Always giving, never receiving, and he…

He was a fucking prick. 

Horrible, awful scenarios started coming to mind after that. For two days, he thought about what would happen if you got transferred, or completed your service and left, or, stars-forbid, got shot. A concept he’d never considered before. You were always there, always constant as Tech’s pointing finger and Echo’s whirring attachments.

The idea of you leaving him - and he was completely arrogant for never seriously entertaining the thought - was frightening. And Crosshair didn’t do frightened.

The worst part? While he was drowning in inner turmoil due to his asshole brothers and your own damn sweetness, you were waltzing around, perfectly fine. You had never given any outward indication that you wanted something real from him, something more than a smokescreen of orgasms and sharp banter. Now that he knew how much you cared, now that he’d heard that you liked him no matter how hard you tried to hide it, he couldn’t let it go.

You’d been contenting yourself with his hands on your body and his lackluster personality for months, when, according to his brothers, you’d really wanted something deeper. Did you think he would reject you, or that he wasn’t capable of anything more to begin with? Both possibilities stung, a lot deeper than he’d ever supposed they would. Especially as he realized that neither of them were unreasonable of you to assume. Suddenly, he was furious.

That’s how he ended up with his cock down your throat in the back of the Marauder, while everyone else was out on the town. Not in his bed, never in his bed. That was one of the rules he’d made, to stop things from getting too intimate. Instead he’d had you kneel, and you’d done it with a wry smile and no questions. He’d planned to fuck these thoughts out of his head, but as it turns out, his brain was thinking the fuck out of his dick, so to speak. 

So instead, he leaned against the wall, gazing at you. You still kneeled, still waited patiently while he’d stared for who knows how long. 

You deserved better. 

The thought was pounding against his skull, incessant and refusing to leave. And Crosshair knew there were only two ways to resolve it. He could walk away, wish you well, and hope that you found someone who could give you a true relationship, no matter what it might cost him.

Or…he could try to be worthy of you.

The first option entailed less risk, and was definitely more his style. He couldn’t be bad at a relationship if he never tried to give you one. But the thought of someone else seeing you like this, or worse, someone else seeing you in ways he hadn’t yet…on a beach, walking down a colorful city street, riding a speeder bike, in the snow…

He stood abruptly and crossed over to your languishing form. He had you in his arms in less than a second, and had you laying on his bunk in less than five more. 

“Cross, wha-?” you protested. You knew the rules, knew his boundaries, and tried to sit up and leave. 

He grasped your shoulders and gently pushed you back, “Please.” Was all he said, whispered and hoarse. He worried at his lip without realizing it. Your eyes widened, and you let him lean you back on his pillows. He fidgeted with them, trying to make them fluffier than the GAR issued sacks of foam they really were, and you quirked a brow.

“You fucking with me, Cross?” you asked, and he could tell you were putting real effort into keeping the trepidation out of your voice. “Because this is a real weird joke.”

Okay, he deserved that one. But his words were stuck somewhere between his brain and his mouth. How was he supposed to know how to tell a woman he liked her anyway? If the Kaminoans included a class on charm somewhere in their training programs, he definitely didn’t get an invite.

Maybe you would be better off with someone who didn’t spend their days getting up close and personal with other people through a fucking scope. 

But all this staring was starting to freak you out. You were sitting awkwardly, legs open, tits out, under his genetically superior gaze. Crosshair didn’t know what kind of face he’d been making, but it clearly wasn’t one you were used to. You crossed your arms over your chest and turned your head to the side, away from him.

“Are we done?” You ground out through a set jaw, a slightly trembling lip. “Is this…ahem…is this over? Because you could just tell me, you don’t have to try and make it easier. I can just go back to my bunk and…and…”

He caught the sheen in your eyes, the catch in your throat. Fuck. Fuck.

“I-I want you…” stars, he can’t even talk. Damn you. Damn him. He cleared his throat. “I. want. you. to stay… there.”

Well, it sounded like it was being tortured out of him, but at least it got your attention. You turned back to look at his face, “You want me to stay here.” You said evenly, jerking your head towards his shabby pillows. “In your bed. Where I’m never, ever supposed to be.”

He swallowed, mouth dry as hell, and nodded. You were so much better at this, so much stronger than he was. He couldn’t do anything but spill his guts in what was probably the least romantic way possible. 

So he did, “I want to try…something else.”

Your lips parted just a fraction, and something seemed to click behind your eyes. But you were tough, tougher than he ever gave you credit for, and you never gave him any ground. Oh you were gentle about it, cool satin to his rough burlap. He suspected it was the healer in you. But you always demanded communication from him, demanded that he explain his behavior, even if it took him a while.

“Something else,” the hitch in your voice had disappeared. “You’re going to have to explain that one to me, babe. You know I’ll try something new, and we have a safe word, but this violates your rules, and I don’t know how to act now. I don’t know what’s okay.”

Babe. It slipped out of your mouth every so often, usually in a teasing lilt over comms during a battle. He didn’t know if he loved it or hated it, but it always brought a sudden heat to his face. He felt the tips of his ears burning.

“I…” c’mon, bastard. You can get this out, you have to get this out. She’s waiting. “I want… toforgettherules.”

“I’m sorry? One more time?”

Brat. In any other circumstance, he’d have you over his knee for something like that. But he took a deep breath, like the ones he’d take before making an impossible shot. And maybe that’s what this was, “I want to forget the rules.”

Your eyes alighted with something like hope, “Why?”

Yes Crosshair, you stupid prick, tell the lady why. He needed to get his head examined. He was talking to himself more than usual. And now he’d started to sound like Hunter.

“Because,” he ground out, teeth clenched. “You deserve…better…than what I’ve been giving you. But I…I don’t want anyone else to deserve you.”

You sat with that for just a moment. And then you brought a hand up to your mouth and giggled. It was such a happy sound, he was almost completely unoffended. 

“You like me,” you murmured, eyes full of mirth and pure, honest delight.

He let out a shaky breath. It was almost a chuckle, “I like you. You’re a little shit, and you give me a heart attack half the time. But I like you.”

“And… I’m allowed to like you back?” This question was tentative, small. Not how he wanted to see you. You should be bright, confident, unafraid to show your brilliance. A fierceness crept into his heart.

“You get to like whatever you damn well please,” he growled, then softened slightly. “But…it would be nice if you liked me.”

You hummed, and dropped the arms covering your gorgeous breasts to cup his face in both hands. Your fingers moved in his cropped strands of hair, but he resisted the urge to close his eyes at the peace it brought him. 

“I like you, more than I ever thought you’d want me to,” you almost-whispered. Then you grinned that same grin you got when Wrecker offered to let you press a detonator. “But if you want in on this, babe, if you want some kind of commitment, I’ve got some rules of my own.”

Strangely, the thought didn’t concern him nearly as badly as it had a day ago. He didn’t know shit about real relationships. He wanted you, and if you gave him some kind of guide to go off of, well, at least there was less of a chance of him fucking it up. 

Crosshair nodded, and your smile grew wider, joy sparkling in your eyes.

“First of all,” you began. “You have to say good morning and good night to me. You also have to hold my hand every so often, and let me kiss your cheek. I promise not to embarrass you…too much.”

He huffed a little, but conceded, “Agreed. Anything else?”

“Oh this is an ongoing list. There will be amendments,” you chirped happily. “I require actual conversation daily, and I get to sleep next to you after we fuck.”

“What do you take me for? Of course you get to-”

“No getting jealous of my guy friends, including your brothers. Like when I give them hugs or candies or-.”

“The regs absolutely cannot be trusted-”

“Ha! I knew you’d be a jealous boyfriend. Oh yeah! And I get to introduce you as my boyfriend from now on.”

Crosshair’s mild disgust must have shown on his face, because you laughed outright, “What about partner? Lover? Fuckbuddy?”

He rolled his eyes, “I’ll make ‘boyfriend’ work. Can I kiss you now or does the princess have more proclamations?”

That shut you up. Despite all the other parts of him you’d had in your mouth, one of his rules had been no kissing on the lips. Your eyes glazed over, and he smirked and leaned forward.

Your lips were so soft, plush and sorely neglected. A vague sense of regret and longing overtook him. How the hell had he managed to avoid kissing you until now? It didn’t really matter. He decided, as you let out a little hum of surprise, that it was about to become his new ritual. Every morning, every night, every time he could drag you into a private little alcove, he’d do it, just to get a chance to press his lips to yours.

He pushed forward, his tongue licking at the line of your lips, and you whined. His cock pulsed, and he began steadily rocking it against your clothed thigh. You opened your mouth eagerly and he dove in. Oh this was divine.

“Never thought,” he mumbled into your mouth. “Never thought it’d be like this.”

“Like…what?” you gasped.

“This…this fucking… brilliant. Stars, your mouth…”

You groaned, and he moved to sweep his deft tongue along your jaw, up to your ear. He bit at your earlobe, and your hips began doing some involuntary rocking of their own. Crosshair growled in your ear, satisfied when you shivered.

He stopped though, when he felt your stealthy hand cup his balls through his pants, “No,” he rasped, taking your wrist in hand and bringing the misbehaving appendage up to nip at your squirming fingers. “I told you, doll. I want… to try… something else.”

“Letting me call the shots would be something else,” you whined, still wiggling in his grasp.

He shook his head, “Not tonight,” he said, sounding out of breath. “Tonight, you just lay there. Look pretty. Look fucking gorgeous because that’s what you are, and keep making little noises for me.”

You whimpered at that, and he smirked. But it wasn’t his usual cocky, infuriating twist of the lips. This was an adorable half smile, part disbelieving, part alive with anticipation. 

Your pants were hastily removed, and while your shoes caused a bit of an obstacle, Crosshair simply wrenched them off and tossed them over his shoulder. One landed with a thump on the durasteel floor - a place he swore you would never be kneeling unprotected again. He was pretty sure the other ended up in Tech’s bunk. 

Crosshair traced his hands down your legs and slowly, ever so slowly pulled your knees further apart. You were pressed back against the pillows, open and waiting for him, and his heart rose to a furious din in his ears. He was almost positive you could hear it. 

He was seized with another fit of insecurity. How was he supposed to know how to cater to you like this? He knew how to grasp your throat just hard enough that your eyes would roll back into your head. He knew how you liked to be tied down and spanked. This wasn’t even the first time he had held your legs apart and let you squirm under his attention. But tenderness… communicating one’s feelings with one’s body… he didn’t even know how to begin. 

His eyes flicked to your face, flushed with shyness and lust. Your kind, welcoming eyes, more open in every breath than he was in his entire lifetime. You bit your lip.

You have to try to be worthy of her, he thought to himself. And he turned his attention to your pussy.

Still clothed in your thin, basic panties, the solid color was stained dark with your wetness. Crosshair cursed, and slowly descended between your legs.

First, he kissed your knees, not bleeding but definitely scraped, and the gentle touch of his lips had you sighing. You’d never made that sound before, that exhale of pure contentment. He wanted more of it. 

You flinched and squirmed as he ran his tongue down your inner thigh, but he held you fast. You weren’t getting away from him. Not now, not when he was finally ready to really try. 

Crosshair knew where you wanted him. You weren’t exactly subtle with the canting of your hips and the nervous fluttering of your fingers over the sheets. Your breaths were coming in short bursts of want. Stars, how were you this sensitive already? He’d seen you in a state of pre-orgasmic distress plenty of times, had made you beg for him past the point where you could speak in coherent sentences, but never had he seen such simple, sweet touches electrify you in this way.

Instead of lowering his mouth to your pussy, though, Crosshair moved to lick and nip at your hip bone. You squealed and moaned, and he decided he’d never heard such an addicting sound.

He brought his tongue across your belly, snapping the waistband of your panties with his teeth before teasing your other hip. Your whimpering was a constant symphony in his dark bunk. He pulled back and chanced a peek at your face. Your eyes were shining with yearning. You had one hand in your hair. He reached up, tugged your abused lip from between your teeth, worried that you’d draw blood, and glanced back down.

The wet spot on your panties had grown, and finally, with a lighter touch than he’d ever directed towards you, Crosshair ran a knuckle up and down your clothed center. You keened, and threw your head back on his feeble pillows, which had flattened almost completely under you. 

I need to get new ones, he thought absently as he tugged your panties to the side, exposing your dripping core. She deserves to be fucked on real pillows. 

He lowered his head, and you were both gone. 

Crosshair had tasted you before, often as a tease while you were tied up and helpless. But not often, and not thoroughly. He usually enjoyed watching your face while taking you apart with his fingers, snarling demeaning pet names into your ear. But this…this was transcendent. You tasted like home, like he could live his entire life and die between your legs. He drank from you slowly, meticulously, lapping at your entrance and circling your clit before closing his lips around it and lightly sucking. Your legs were trembling within minutes. Every few seconds, garbled, meaningless sounds escaped from your throat and spurred him on. He gently, reverently pushed a finger into your hot center, caressing the spot you both loved. You seized up…, and let go.

He rocked you lovingly through your orgasm, fingering you slightly and keeping his mouth clamped around your clit. Your pussy spasmed, your hips jerked, and your mouth opened in a silent scream. 

But he didn’t stop. 

Crosshair began again, stroking your throbbing clit with his tongue, refusing to allow the fire in your abdomen to subside. Now that he’d really tasted you, now that he’d felt you fall apart on his lips, his only goal was to make it happen again.

“C-cross!” you yelled, hand flying down to his hair. You tugged hard, and he groaned.

“More,” he mumbled into your cunt. His fingers pressed at that tender spot inside you, and your head flew back. You shrieked and writhed on his bed, dripping onto the sheets. 

You were moaning with every breath, tensing your legs and frantically thrusting your hips towards his waiting mouth. Your toes curled repeatedly in the corners of his vision. Your pussy was red and swollen, your slick arousal running down his hand and wrist. 

Crosshair curled his fingers inside of you and allowed his teeth to gently catch against your begging clit, and your second orgasm hit like a lightning strike. You seized up, screaming your release to the ceiling of his bunk. He gently lapped at your clit as you came down, your yells turning to sobs. Tears spilled down your face and onto your chest. You reached for him, and he encircled your shaking body with his arms.

“Shhhhh,” he hushed into your hair. “You’re alright…you’re alright…I…I’ve got you, mesh’la.”

You pulled back, tears tracking your cheeks as you stared into his eyes, “Y-you’ve never called me that before.”

Crosshair knew you understood the word. Echo called you mesh’la on occasion, Wrecker too. “I felt left out,” he said. “I should get to remind you of how beautiful you are more than anyone else.”

You sniffed, and threw your arms around him, “You’re beautiful too,” he heard you mumble, and his heart swelled. “But…”

“But what, doll?”

Your voice took on a fierce, desperate tone, “If you don’t get inside me right now, we’re going to have our first fight.” 

Crosshair was stunned, but only for a moment. This was why he lo…liked you in the first place. 

He took on the domineering tone he usually had with you in these situations, “Demanding girls don’t get what they want.”

But you just grinned, and lifted your chin, “Girlfriend privilege.”

He threw his head back and laughed. What had he gotten himself into? 

He couldn’t wait to find out.

“Just this once, mesh’la.”

You practically went limp in his arms as his straining, red cock breached your entrance. He stilled for just a moment, relishing in the feeling of being inside you. When you looked up at him, eyes shining with something he dare not name, not yet, he felt complete.

Crosshair grabbed hold of your hair and yanked, and you squealed from the pull of his hand and the push of his cock. This much he was sure of: he knew how you liked to be fucked, and he didn’t have it in him to be gentle any longer. And though he wouldn’t last as long as he’d like, no one could accuse him of not being a giving lover.

“Just like that, good girl,” he growled. You whined and writhed, impaled on his cock and unable to even think. “You just lay back, and come for me one more time.”

“Cross…I-I can’t.”

“You can,” he assured you, and his thumb went down to ever so gently move on your clit. “You’ve done it for me before, and you’re going to do it for me again. Scream, bite me if you have to, but you are going to give me one more.”

You wailed, hips thrusting up, frantically trying to match his rhythm. Crosshair released your hair to grab your throat. He leaned in, a hair's breadth away from your ear, and whispered, “That’s it, that’s my good girl.”

You tensed, and he grinned, “You like that? You like knowing you’re mine? That this mouth, these tits, this pussy all belong to me?” He started moving faster, keeping that pressure on your throbbing clit. He bit at your ear, “But remember, mesh’la, just because you’re my girl doesn’t mean I won’t fuck you like the slut we both know you are.”

That did it. Your cunt clenched around him, and you let out an ear-piercing scream. Your release came in strong, crashing waves, wiping your mind of anything else and soaking both of you. Crosshair couldn’t hold out any longer. He buried himself to the hilt and came deep inside you, and you shuddered with the aftershocks, so full and sated Crosshair swore you’d fallen asleep.

He was wrong. You lifted a trembling hand to his face and smiled gently at him, “Thank you, Cross.”

He scoffed, “Nothing to be thankful for. Not like we haven’t done this a hundred times.”

But you shook your head, “We’ve never done this before.” You gestured at the mess you’d made in his bed, at your tangled limbs and the invisible closeness that still existed between you, even after the amazing sex. “Thank you for trying.”

Crosshair felt his strength leave him. He gathered you up, and buried his face in your chest, taking deep, calming breaths, “Don’t let me coast on it.” He murmured. “Don’t cut me any slack. I’m bad at this.”

He heard your giggle from above, “A little unpolished, maybe, but I’ve never seen you fail to excel at something you were determined to accomplish.” You stroked his hair. “We’ll be fine, babe.”

“We need to talk about that nickname.”

“I can think of others,” you teased. “Honey, sweetie, my little tooka-”

He made a gagging noise against your breasts, and you were outright laughing, “Babycakes, darling, love-”

Crosshair knew he’d tensed up at that last one, had let a little gasp escape in his contentment. He blamed the recent orgasm. But you’d heard it, and you stopped laughing.

“Oh…” he heard your voice take on a strange tone, and finally looked up at your face. You looked…shy. Shy and happy. You nodded, “Love, then. I can make that work.”

He felt his ears burning, and he turned his face back into your chest. A sudden possessiveness overtook him, and he gathered you closer, “You can’t…” he mumbled. “You can’t call anyone else that.”

You were quiet for a moment, probably remembering all of the interchangeable nicknames you liked to use with his brothers. Then he felt your hands grab his face - still hiding in your breasts like a coward - and turn it toward your own. You smiled down at him. 

“And that, love, is what we call boyfriend privilege.”

Crosshair gazed at you in amazement, then felt a rare smile break out over his face. He hugged you close, took his time kissing your lips again. He knew, in a moment, he would tell you to stay where you are as he got up and did something he’d never done for you before - clean you up himself. It’s something he would insist on doing from here on out.

Because, he decided, that’s what your boyfriend would do. And, as he was realizing rather quickly, he did not want anyone else to earn that title. 

It was his. And he was yours. 

Crashing the car due to being overwhelmed by the beauty of the world

Brontosaurus means thunder lizard you see

This is in my mind the first time either of them bring up marriage or weddings, Obi-Wan comes out of nowhere with it and Cody just rolls with it

❤️

tech <3