I Just Want To See Them All Together And Happy Again

i just want to see them all together and happy again

I Just Want To See Them All Together And Happy Again

More Posts from Snarky-mans-gf and Others

2 years ago

[The Bad Batch+Rex Headcannons] - What makes them fall for you

[The Bad Batch+Rex Headcannons] - What Makes Them Fall For You

content: just major fluff!

wanted to pump something out while im still working on my crosshair fic, so this is to keep my creative juices flow while i finish it up! honestly got a cavity while writing these, i love these boys so much đŸ˜©. hope you enjoy! <3 

find here on ao3

read under cut

Hunter

Your kindness.

He always liked that about you, even when he first initially sees you as a friend.

But slowly, the more he experiences it firsthand and watches you interact with his brothers and Omega, the more he comes to really love it and finds so much appreciation.

The way you immediately offer your services if a batcher requires assistance.

How you indulge Tech even during his most tedious tangents.

Your endless patience with Crosshair, even when he is in a mood.

The fact you make everyone's cafs for them if you wake before them and have the chance.

The way you treat Omega.

Especially the way you treat Omega.

Seeing you playing with her and telling tall tales to soothe her hardest nights, give her the love and affection like you were her own mother... 

Yep. He's in love.

Even if on the exterior you seem cold and rude, he can still pick out the little things that show how truly considerate you are.

It's the easiest way to his heart.

Tech

For Tech, it's the little things.

He is a like a poet, and you are his muse; he could write a sonnet on each and every single small trait or quirk of yours he absolutely adores.

Like your nose scrunch when you're focused.

Or your early morning breathing when he wakes before you, the steady rise and fall of your chest and stomach that keeps him grounded.

The way you bite the corners of your bottom lip when frustrated. 

How you smile, how you laugh.

The pattern of your footsteps, the melodic beating that creates tunes in his mind.

Small hyper-fixations and cute obsessions you have.

Stories of when you were a child.

The way you like your caf stirred, your food cooked, your hair to rest on your shoulders.

How you look at him, kiss him, hold his face in your palms.

All the little things that make you who you are. That is golden to him.

Wrecker

Your spirit, and, in lots of cases, when you're excited or happy.

He loves to see you in a good mood.

And seeing you basking in that happiness for the first time
 it triggers something deep inside of him.

Wrecker is quite the spirited and excitable guy himself, and seeing you energized and the small things that make you that way makes him so warm in such a way.

He doesn't even realize it's love at first.

He should have known, however, since it made him want to kiss your breath away. Make you smile like that every day, every waking hour he is with you, spending time with you. He wants to see you like that, again and again. 

Everything about your liveliness makes him fall to his knees; from the pep in your step to your infectious smile, how you giggle at even the silliest things and spin yourself in his arms.

Even when you aren't stereotypically full of energy, the way you look at the world with such awe and happiness melts his heart.

It makes him want to be your world.

Crosshair

It sounds a little weird, but... the way you love.

He likes you a lot as a person, of course. He wouldn't let you so close to him otherwise. But something about the way you show your love to others (and him) really affects Crosshair in ways he can't explain.

Perhaps it's because he has trouble showing emotions at all, and seeing you do it so effortlessly makes him aspire to be like that in certain cases. Especially with you.

Or maybe, he just loves how you show your love and appreciation.

Constant words of affirmation, reminding him even on his hardest days that he is of value, he is enough, even outside of his born task to being a good soldier.

Playful quips, being able to enjoy his rather dry humor even if it isn't your initial cup of tea.

Your physical affection, how you easily can touch and express emotions through actions in ways that are so pleasing to him...

It makes him really, really want to be a person that you love.

Echo

A few things helped contribute to him falling in love with you.

Firstly, your lack of judgment. 

Echo’s been through so much, poor boy needs a space where he doesn’t feel he has to meet a certain standard, meet the expectations a soldier like him should strive for. 

And you give him that. 

You listen to him, understand why he doesn’t want certain things due to his experiences on Skako Minor, and you give it to him without any questions as to why.

Second, your spitfire. 

He appreciates that you aren’t a pushover, and you have a specific feisty attitude to you that is just so attractive. 

You can snidely remark like he does when you disagree, but still manage to come off as an adult, and not whiny. 

You’ve certainly got a mouth on you. 

The first time you got Crosshair to shut up is easily one of the first moments that Echo realized that he might be in love with you.

And lastly, which is rather cheesy, but your eyes. 

He’s always liked that feature on a partner, but when it comes to you, it really puts the final nail in the coffin for him
 

He loves that you let him read you like a book, look at him with such trust and faith
 

He wants to get lost in them for as long as he lives.

Rex

How you treat him.

It sounds kind of
 self-centered, but he really means it. 

You’re just so good to him. So nice and sweet and caring and nurturing
 he’s eternally grateful. 

Of course, he gives back; not only does he feel obligated, but he enjoys it. 

His love language is acts of service, both ways; so when you first meet him, and you’re just so kind in your words and actions, it takes him by surprise. 

Rex is not used to being treated well.

He’s been exclusively groomed and trained for war and has believed his whole life that he has no other purpose but that. 

So to feel that he might have a place in this world that isn’t just warfare and bloodshed
 it makes his heart melt.

The first time you ever let him relax and be taken care of, even as friends, he almost cries.

He can’t believe that he’s being treated like this, so gently and purposefully. As if he was finally being rewarded for a life of loyalty and dedication.

Just being able to revel in your general goodness makes him so happy, and every time he allows himself to relax and be taken care of, he falls in love with you all over again.

[The Bad Batch+Rex Headcannons] - What Makes Them Fall For You

Tags
2 years ago
snarky-mans-gf - We don’t usually work with regs
snarky-mans-gf - We don’t usually work with regs

Despite everything.

2 years ago

fights and hugs (crosshair's pov)

wildflower masterlist

relationship: twi'lek!jedi!reader x crosshair [gn]

summary: everyone thinks you're perfect but crosshair knows the truth - you're manipulative and annoying. so why does he get so protective when a creep harasses you?

word count: 1.8k

warnings: can be platonic or romantic, cross thinks kindness = emotional manipulation, jealousy, sexualization/verbal harassment, enslavement, creep gets punched, protective cross, clones not having rights/unfair justice system, past bullying, mentioned nightmares/separation anxiety, soft cross, he's like a feral cat that secretly wants to be a house cat

ryl translations: chi'kan- pervert

a/n: i think i wrote cross like wednesday addams lmao

Fights And Hugs (crosshair's Pov)

Crosshair thinks you’re the most frustrating person he’s ever met. And he can’t even do anything about it. He might be a prickly bastard but he’s also a soldier and you’re his commanding officer. He can’t just pick a fight with you. Especially since you never take the fucking bait.

He gives you the bare minimum amount of respect required. He follows your orders on missions (they’re actually pretty smart but he’ll die before he admits that.) He calls you commander or sir. He doesn’t outright insult you. But he certainly doesn’t worship you like his brothers.

They think you’re an angel. What makes you so special? You make Wrecker laugh obnoxiously loud. You encourage Tech’s messy collecting hobby. You play with Hunter's hair until he’s purring like a tooka. It’s pathetic. You’re probably using jedi mind tricks on them. The truth is you’re a manipulative little shit and if it didn’t make Crosshair so angry he might be impressed.

What he really hates is that satisfied look on your face when he does what you want. Like when he plays a stupid dancing game just to prove to you that he can do it better than Wrecker. Or smiling at him proudly when he doesn’t shoot a reg.

Then you have the audacity to compliment him? Disgusting. So why does he c no rave it? Why does he get annoyed when you praise his brothers instead of him.

One day you give him a piece of dark fabric. “It’s a sleep mask. You wear it to block out light when you sleep,” you explain with a bright smile. The cool material is like his blacks but softer. He can’t help but run his fingers along it. He mutters a thanks and quickly leaves.

That night he uses the sleep mask and to his horror likes it. Now he’s in debt to you. But he doesn’t have any credits. Fucking great. Why do you have to make his life so difficult?

Luckily he finds a gift for you within the next few days. After a mission he notices a rock that got caught in an explosion. It’s been cracked in half, exposing the crystalized insides. Jedi like crystals right? He grabs it and drops it in his pack.

Of course you make a big fuss when he awkwardly gives it to you. You almost hug him but don’t thank the force. He doesn’t feel dissapointed at all. You show the rock to his brothers proudly. His face burns when they send him questioning looks. “Easily impressed,” he scoffs dismissively. Although secretly he’s proud of himself.

He’s having a sleepless night on some forgettable outer rim planet when you knock on his cabin door. He knows it’s you because his brothers would have barged in. “Hey Crosshair, wanna get some snacks? I’m paying,” you offer. You shake a satchel draped across your body, making the credits inside clank together.

He wonders if Hunter (who’s currently on watch) put you up to this, why else would you seek out his company? It's obvious you prefer him anyways. Not that he cares. The thought makes his hackles rise but then he imagines telling Wrecker’s that you got him nat born food tomorrow. That will be entertaining. He sharply agrees and puts on his boots.

He glances down at his GAR issued loungewear. He doesn’t know if they’re appropriate for a nat born store or wherever you’re taking him but you’re wearing sleep clothes too so good enough. You're swaddled in an oversized robe to be exact. How childish. Not at all endearing

As you exit the ship your eyes reflect in the dark just like his. That’s another annoyance. Enhanced eyesight used to be his thing. You began humming a tune under your breath. Crosshair almost says something but the sound isn’t too horrible so he lets you continue.

Within a few minutes you're at the store. He's instantly overwhelmed by the bright lights and endless options, who needs so many flavors of the same thing? He doesn’t know what any of this is but he doesn’t want to admit that so he begins recon. He grabs a crinkly bag that appears to be some kind of a cracker to inspect it.

That’s when Crosshair notices a stumbling man leering at you. He’s caught off guard by the sudden flash of protective anger he feels. Why is he so concerned? If you can handle yourself on a battlefield, you can handle one pathetic human.

Your body language is the opposite of your usual demanor when talking to civilians. You’re usually very open and engaging, easily forming a connection with them. Not now.

Crosshair has seen you face hoards of battle droids with a smile. He’s seen you meditate while being shot at. He’s seen you make fun of General Grievous while fending off four sabers. But now you look shaken. Your colorful skin has paled, eyes wide in a mix of shock and horror. You suddenly look so young and so frightened.

He's beside you in a second. He tries to ignore the relief in your eyes, the way you subtly lean closer to him. It makes his chest feel odd.

“You their master?”

He sneers. Does he look like a jedi master? You go completely rigid beside him. That catches the clone off guard. You know how to keep a straight face. You’re not only a stupidly brave fighter, you’re a damn good negotiator. What could have possibly upset – then it hits him. This man was referring to a different kind of master.

You quickly recover, slipping into an emotionless jedi facade you rarely use. Crosshair’s jaw clenches so hard his toothpick snaps in half. He spits the broken pieces towards the man’s feet. “I belong to no one. The galaxy is much bigger than your prejudices,” you state evenly but there’s a fire in your eyes. “My friend and I are leaving now.”

Then the creep, who’s either stupud or plain suicidal, scoffs angrily. “You think you’re better than me? Tail head whore.”

The sniper sees fucking red. How dare this piece of shit demean his jedi? His self sacrificing, too nice, pain in the ass jedi. Only Crosshair is allowed to make your life difficult. The way the man judges you reminds him of every kaminoan that looked down on his brothers and his free hand is swinging.

The drunk man is sent staggering wildly. Before either man can recover your fingers wrap around the sniper's wrist to hold him in place as you bend down. “You want to go home and rethink your life choices," you instruct melodically, waving a hand in his face.

“I want to go home and rethink my life choices,” he repeats blankly.

You make quick work of charming the concerned worker, assuring that no police presence is necessary. Then you turn to the sniper and in that fake calm voice he hates suggests he get water for his chips. For once in his life he follows instructions without complaint, watching you closely as you pay for your snacks. Your moves are less graceful and more droid-like than usual.

Once you get outside you shakily sigh. He holds back an eyeroll. He’s lived with Hunter long enough to know when he’s going to get scolded. “You shouldn’t have done that, Crosshair. I was about to mind trick him.”

He stares at the ground with a tight jaw. He doesn’t know why he defended you when you didn't need it. He saw a creep harassing the only nat born who’s ever been kind to him and he just snapped. He’s still angry, honestly. Why aren’t you? “He deserved it.”

“Perhaps. But clones don’t have rights, you can’t just go around assaulting civilians. Even if it’s self defense you’re going to be painted as the aggressor.”

But he's more focused on your unsteady hands. “You're shaking."

“Are you even listening to me? This is serious.”

Crosshair suddenly seizes your free wrist, “so is this.”

You look like you want to argue for a moment then you slump in defeat. “I’m just
 overwhelmed.”

Crosshair has experience with overwhelmed siblings. Hunter like space, Wrecker likes affection, Tech likes a listening ear. "What do you need?” He asks, surprisingly gentle.

This seems to be your boiling over point as you gesture wildly, swinging the bag in your hand. “I need sleep. I need to meditate. I need my master.” Your glowing eyes widen at your own outburst. The frustration morphs to sadness. “I guess I’m a little homesick. I thought spending time with you would be a good distraction but that chi’kan ruined it.”

This should be the point where he drops the subject. You already said what’s wrong and it’s not his responsibility to make you happy. But a voice that sounds suspiciously like Hunter points out that if the roles were reversed, you wouldn’t leave him to suffer.

He thinks back to the cadet days, when it was just him and his brothers against the world. He remembers the overwhelming anger when a reg hurt one of them. He was never good at comforting, he was good at revenge. But he can’t fight your emotions. And he already punched the chi’kan (he’ll have to find out what that means later.)

There’s only one option left. Out of his brothers you remind him of Wrecker the most and Wrecker likes affection when he’s upset. He awkwardly opens his arms and bites the blaster bolt. “Do you want a hug?”

“...What?”

“I’m not saying it again.”

Then you’re flying against him. Crosshair almost falls into the grass as you smash your face into his neck, fists balling into his sleep shirt. You’re warm and solid and your touch isn’t completely revolting. He slowly relaxes as he winds a long arm around you.

Crosshair will never admit it but can understand your separation anxiety. As the sniper it’s his job to watch his brother’s backs. The instinct to protect is so engraved in Crosshair he needs to be near his siblings or know where they are at all times. Maybe that’s why he defended you tonight. He’s starting to accept you as part of the squad.

“Blossom?”

“Yeah, Cross?”

“If you tell anyone about this I’ll shoot you.”


Tags
2 years ago

May i please request angst then comfort with crosshair? preferably where reader is the one going through it?

Ooo, yes! I saw an opportunity for this and I took it 👀

Conflicted

Crosshair x Jedi!Reader

May I Please Request Angst Then Comfort With Crosshair? Preferably Where Reader Is The One Going Through

A/N: couple things - this is not canon complaint lmao. Crosshair doesn’t stay bad and it’s implied heavily that his actions at the start of season 1 are fully due to the inhibitor chip. Hope you all enjoy!

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: order 66, angst, near death experiences, fear of death, crosshair is kinda scary at first, hurt comfort, then lots of fluff and happy ending!

May I Please Request Angst Then Comfort With Crosshair? Preferably Where Reader Is The One Going Through

The snow shifts unevenly beneath your feet, the only sound being your rapid footsteps, ragged breathing, and the frantic pants of breath from the padawan ahead of you. 

And your name. The not so distant echoing calls of your name from the sergeant of the clone force you commanded. 

“Go Caleb!” You call out to the young boy ahead of you, catching the fearful gaze he casts over his shoulder. “I’ll distract them. Go, run as far as you can!” 

You both slide to a stop on the steep incline you have been retreating down, the forest eerily silent around you. 

You see him hesitate - can feel it through the force. But eventually, he listens, fixing you with one last wary look before taking off deeper into the trees. 

When you can no longer see him, you finally stop to take stock of your surroundings, trying to calm the erratic beating of your heart and make sense of what you witnessed just moments earlier. 

The clones, they
they killed her. And now they want to kill you. 

The crunching of snow snaps you back to reality, and you leap up to the nearest tree branch, sitting stone still as a familiar clone appears where you just were. 

Hunter. Your sergeant, one of the men you trusted most, hunting you down. 

You watch as he stoops to a crouch, fingers brushing lightly over the snow on the ground, fingers rubbing together as he studies your tracks. 

He stands once more, scanning the area before calling your name softly. 

“I promise, I don’t want to hurt you. Whatever this is
I’m just as confused as you are.” 

You listen to his words, reach out silently through the force and are stunned to detect the truth of his words. 

You want to believe him, you want to trust him, but the blatant absence of a certain sniper makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. 

You can’t trust him. You can’t trust anybody. 

The ignition of your light saber fills your ears as you jump down from your hiding place, keeping your blade between you and your pursuer. Hunter doesn’t startle much, unsurprising since he probably knew where you were the whole time. 

“Commander, stop!” 

You shake your head. “Don’t make me hurt you Hunter,” you plead, “Just walk away!” 

His helmet turns side to side, and you tense as he reaches for his blaster. But instead of pulling it out to aim at you, he grasps it with two fingers and tosses it to the side, far from reach. His viroblade too. 

You watch in confusion as he holds his hands up, effectively surrendering to you. 

“I told you. I’m not going to hurt you, I’m just trying to figure out what’s going on, just like you!” 

He steps closer, and you take several steps back. “Don’t!” You call out, lightsaber held out defensively. “Don’t come any closer.” 

He holds his hands out towards you now, palms up, begging. “Please Commander, you have to believe me.” 

You want to. You so desperately want to. And for a split second
you do. You power down your weapon, eyes tracing his visor. 

You hear him sigh, relieved he’s deescalated the situation. 

Until a blaster bolt flies through the trees. You barely dodge the fatal blow, the bolt grazing your arm instead of burning through your chest. 

The pain is intense, but not as bad as the emotional pain you feel as you tumble to the snow, gaze trained on the Sergeant. 

You see Crosshair emerge from the trees behind Hunter just as you send the Sergeant back into a nearby tree. You don’t stay to see if he stays down. 

The snow is frigid beneath your fingers as you scrabble to your feet, calling your lightsaber to you as you dart further into the trees, further away from the voice you’ve come to love calling your name. 

The tears come without warning, blurring your vision as you stumble aimlessly through the forest. Dodging blaster fire, and trying to ignore the pain each one sends straight to your heart. 

Crosshair is going to kill you. 

It’s too much. All of it. The emotion bubbling in your chest, the pain in your arm, your tears freezing on your cheeks. And when you finally stumble out of the tree line, rocks beneath your feet and the sound of rushing water just feet away
you feel it. 

The force shattering around you, fractured and falling silent and yet filled with anguish at the same time. 

You barely manage to turn back to face the forest before you collapse to your knees. 

It feels as if all the fight has left you, the force falling quieter and quieter as time slips by. You can’t even find it in you to light your weapon when Crosshair emerges from the darkness of the forest, path sure and unrelenting. 

You thought he would just end it, raise his rifle and execute you where you kneel. But he doesn’t. He pauses several feet from you, close enough that it's impossible to miss, but far enough away you can’t reach him. 

He holds his rifle lazily at his side, reaching up with his free hand to pull his helmet off. He looks at you silently, eyes void of any of the mirth and life you’re used to. 

This is Crosshair on a mission. A mission to kill. A mission he won’t fail. 

You could kill him. You could. You could rip his weapon from his hands with the force, or easily toss him into the gorge behind you. 

But you won’t. You can’t. Not truly. 

Because despite the fact that he’s about to be your end. You still
you still love him. Just as fiercely as you have all this time. 

Looking up at him, there’s a million things you want to ask. But all of them only accumulate to one wobbly word. 

“Why?” You ask, eyes searching his own lifeless ones for an answer. 

His answer is immediate, the same thing you heard the other clones chant before slaughtering Master Billaba. 

“In accordance with Order 66, all Jedi must be eliminated.” The words lack any power as he says them, almost robotic as he brings his weapon into both hands. 

“Crosshair, please.” 

You choke out the plea, throat clogged with tears as you watch him raise his weapon. 

“Good soldiers follow orders,” He intones, finger sliding slowly over the trigger. 

“But you’re not just a soldier!” 

The words slip from your lips before you can think about them, and they make the man before you pause. 

His finger twitches, and you visibly flinch at the action. But he never pulls back all the way back. The gun wavers in his hand, aim shaky as he fights with
something. 

You move to stand, legs quaking beneath you as he jerks his weapon to follow you. But his lips are set in a hard line, jaw ticking with effort. 

“Good
soldiers follow
orders.” 

He practically grinds the words out, shoving his rifle towards you as if trying to convince himself of his own words. So you push on, hoping you can get through to him. Make him see. 

“Crosshair, please.” You beg again, noticing how he avoids your own gaze. “Look at me.” 

He does, and you see something flash through his eyes. Recognition, fear, guilt
you’re not sure. But you latch onto it. 

“It’s me. It’s me, Cross - whatever this is, fight it!” 

His eyes snap closed, and he shakes his head hard. 

“The Jedi are Traitors, they must
” he trails off, physically trying to fight what he’s saying. “Execute order 66. Those were the orders.” 

He looks at you again, and that flash
that little glimpse of Crosshair, the real Crosshair


It’s gone. 

You feel the barrel of his rifle press against your chest, and this time
you don’t fight it. Instead you look the sniper directly in the eyes, your own full of sadness. 

“Do it Cross.” You tell him, resigned to your fate. 

He’s still hesitating, finger still twitching over the trigger. But with how close he is now, you’re able to reach a hand out and place it over his own that rests on the barrel of the gun. 

You let your eyes slip closed as your hand slides over his, still able to feel the warmth despite the glove that separates you. 

“I love you,” you whisper, squeezing his hand and pouring into him everything you have left with the force. 

He has to know that. 

You expect it then. The pain, the heat, the fear as death rips through you. 

But it never comes. Even when you feel the cold metal press harder into you before disappearing all together, you still expect death. 

But instead of the painful heat you expect, a gentle warmth engulfs you. Solid plastoid meets your chest as two familiar arms wrap around your waist. 

Everything assaults you at once. The despair. The shock. The guilt
the guilt most of all, slams into you harder than you ever imagined. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” the gentle apologies are muttered into the fabric of your robes from where his head now rests against your shoulder. 

You can feel his fingers digging into your sides as you finally open your eyes. 

You’re alive. You’re alive and Crosshair didn’t kill you and his gun is lying yards away as he holds you instead. Yet despite this, you can’t help the fear that still grips you. Can’t help the way your heart stutters in your chest. 

“Cross?” 

Your nickname for him slips out in a terrified whisper, and he only clutches you tighter before pulling away just enough so you’re face to face. 

Crosshair has never been emotional, hiding behind his snide comments and holier than thou mindset. 

But now
it’s more than you’ve ever seen from him since joining the batch. Even when you began your relationship he was never emotionally open. But right now he looked just as terrible as you felt. Horrified and worried all at once. 

His hands come up to your face, thumbs wiping away the tears you didn’t realize were falling again as his eyes flick hastily over you. 

“I
I don’t know what happened I couldn’t
control it.” He finally says, voice quiet. “I saw everything I was doing but I couldn’t
I couldn’t stop it.” 

You let yourself cry now, fully and unabashedly. You don’t fully understand what happened. Still don’t. But if what he’s saying is true


It wasn’t him. And whatever it was
he fought it off. To save you. 

He pulls you closer again, and this time you reciprocate, wrapping your arms around him as if afraid to let him go. 

“It’s okay,” you tell him gently, sagging into him fully as he presses a soft kiss to your temple. “You fought it. You saved me.” 

He tensed at that, and you can sense he doesn’t quite believe your words. But he doesn’t let you go, holding you close and rocking you both gently back and forth as you both hold one another. 

You hear your name from a distance, and you’re silently thankful that Hunter is apparently alive and well enough to come searching for you again. 

The batch would find you both soon enough, and after that


You don’t know. 

The Jedi are gone. The clones turned against them. You don’t know what the future holds, for any of you. 

But as Crosshair continues to hold you close, muttering assurances in your ear


You know you won’t face it alone.


Tags
2 years ago

Blizzard

Crosshair x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Crosshair get stuck in a relentless snowstorm. A cave provides you shelter, but you’ll have to get close to survive.

Warnings: smut, LITERAL cock warming, (kinda) sub soft crosshair, fluffy

Word count: 2.1k

A/N: Y’all seen twilight eclipse? Yeah it’s like that
and Jacob’s lil comment about how he could warm her quicker if they took their clothes off. Also the logic may be nonsensical, so, forgive me.

Request for @crosshairs-wife 💕

Gif cred: @azertyrobaz

Blizzard

The piercing sting of cold upon your skin was almost fading away as you grew numb. Crosshair was only feet in front of you, but you were losing sight of him in the relentless blizzard. You’d gotten separated from the other guys, but they’d already signaled you on your comms that they had made it back safely.

“We can’t come for you yet. It’s too dangerous. Try and find shelter until the storm passes” Hunter’s voice cut through the weak comms signal in your ear. He was so worried, but knew you both were capable of survival.

It was an unpredictable planet with weather patterns unlike any other system. You hadn’t planned for a winter storm, so you weren’t dressed for the freezing temperatures, only making the situation more dire.

“T-there’s
a cave” Crosshair breathed heavily, shivering through his words. You couldn’t muster a response, and he could only assume you were following behind him. The cave was deep inside the base of the mountain, perfect for shielding you both from the brutal winds and freezing temperatures. It was only just barely visible to either of you, and you were thankful he saw it.

Throwing down your backpack, you both collapsed onto the dry ground of the covered fortress. There wasn’t much room, but you found yourselves huddled in opposite corners, still hanging onto your social norm of not touching one another, even in a state of uncertainty.

“We s-should get c-c-closer” You mumbled, but not without struggle. You had never bonded with Crosshair beyond being in the same squad, and you really didn’t think he even liked you. But that didn’t matter right now.

He nodded, as the desperation for warmth drew him into you, curling up against each other's bodies. His arm stretched over your body as if he tried to shield you from the conditions. It was uncharacteristic of him, but human instinct overcame you both, knowing it was crucial for survival.

“You’re freezing” You mumble with your shaking voice. He was arguably worse off than you were, but he wouldn't show it. Crosshair had been out in the cold a little longer than you.

“So are you” He rebutted. Sure, but you needed to make sure he found warmth soon.

“You need to take your armor off, it’ll only make you colder” You told him, knowing the metal would only trap the coldness against his body, and your body couldn’t feel the warmth of his own with the hard metal creating a barrier between your clothes and his.

Crosshair moved slowly to pull the armor from his body, and you watched as the shape of his form come to view.

“Your clothes are soaked from the snow, you-” He began, realizing that soon the moisture would freeze, trapping your body within it, “you’ll die”.

“I don’t have anything else to wear, Crosshair” You groaned in response, realizing your only other option was to strip down to nothing and cuddle up against him.

“I know that” He scoffed through the grit of his chattering teeth.

“Gods, you’re right. Just, try not to stare, please” You begged; feeling self-conscious already, but there was no time for that now.

He noticeably swallowed hard, anticipating the view that was to come. He’d never admit to you that you turned him on, but really, you drove him wild. It was always a skill of his to not show a single bit of that emotion when he was near you, but it was something he had to train himself to do, or else he’d blow his cover.

“I need help” You shamefully requested, the numbness of your fingers lacking the grip to pull your jacket and shirt from your body.

He hesitated, whether that was because he was nervous or because he was trying to process the words coming out of your mouth, it didn’t go unnoticed. His hands gently grab the bottom hem of your shirt and helped you maneuver out of it. Your bare breasts were exposed then to the frigid chill but somehow felt warmer now that you were out of the dampness of your material.

Through all the discomfort of the storm and the hell you'd been through, you still felt a tingle of tension between the two of you as you laid back to remove your pants. It was such a strange sensation to be warmer in your bare form, but this would help you from freezing to death.

Crosshair couldn’t take his eyes off of you, despite your plea to not be stared at. You had to admit you sort of liked it, though. The attention helped you feel less self-conscious, because surely he wouldn’t stare if he didn’t like the view, right?

You remembered something about survival that was going to be hard to suggest, but someone had to, “Skin to skin is the fastest way to warm each other” You shivered, “Please, Crosshair. I’m sorry to ask I j-” You begged helplessly.

“I’ll do it” He interrupted you. Crosshair wasn’t angry, he was eager. This shocked you, but you welcomed his eager attitude.

Quickly, he removed his clothing, keeping only his underwear, same as you. You were enamored with him, loving every inch of his body, and not attempting to hide your staring at all.

“Come here” He demanded, laying down next to you and wrapping his arm around your shaking body. The immediate encasing of his shielding body on you felt as close to a warm blanket as you could get right now.

“Oh maker
I don’t know how you feel warm but it’s helping”

“You feel warm too” He noted.

Your eyes met his as you looked up to him and something so unfamiliar came over you, an urge that made itself known so suddenly, but you leaned up, pressing your barely tingling lips against his.

He pulled away.

Oh no.

“What are you doing?” He snapped.

“I-” You choked on your own words, mortified and confused.

His eyes scanned your face and wandered your expression to try and read you. Crosshair wasn’t rejecting you, but he was rejecting the idea that you wanted him. It was simply too hard for him to believe. Things were always distant and tense between you two, but right now, stars...right now he wanted to fall apart for you.

Finally, after what felt like forever of nothing but the roaring of storms, he kissed you back. The passion that you felt through the motions of his lips sent a flash of heat through your veins, something you so desperately needed. As if by natural instinct, you reached to palm the growing bulge between his legs.

“I know how else we can get warm” You whispered against his lips.

He held your gaze, unbroken, and let his fingers float down between your legs, feeling the arousal pooled inside your panties. With only small rhythms of motions pressed to your clit, you whimpered. Crosshair couldn’t wait any longer, though, as his body begged for warmth. Something so primal in him did this because he knew he needed it to live, but something more intimate in him told him he just needed you.

Swiftly, you pulled his cock from his undergarments, and swung your leg over his hip, straddling him. His needing eyes scanned your face, looking for any uncertainty, but found none. He recognized that you were doing him an act of such deep kindness, but was so eager he pulled you fiercely into place. You knew he’d probably benefit from this more than you in terms of survival, but stars, you know you’d enjoy every second of him fucking you anyways.

No words could’ve described how euphoric he felt sinking into the warmth you provided him. It was more intense of a high than any spice the galaxy could offer. He groaned so loudly, equally satisfied with the feeling of any part of his body being wrapped in warm velvet, subsiding the numbness, and finally having you like this.

You winced, feeling the contrast of cold inside of you as you fully lowered yourself onto his cock. Trembling forceful fingers dug into your hips pressing you in place and refusing to let you move.

“Please, just, stay like this. For a moment” He begged, a desperate look replacing his usual scowled expression. He shuddered, eyes falling closed as he savored every second that passed.

You did as he asked, and wrapped your arms around his neck, and pulled his face into the crevice of your breasts. He groaned again, and a breathless whimper fell from your own lips as the fullness you felt overwhelmed you. It felt so good to do this with him, and it felt better to know how much relief you brought to him.

Even though he could’ve stayed buried inside you like this forever, you needed to move, needed to have that movement. Slowly, you sat up again, and curled your hips up and down, adding friction against your walls.

“Oh, Y/N” Crosshair whimpered so softly. This was a side of him you’d never expected to see, especially in this intimate situation. But then again, he never let you get close enough to him to even know. His desperation for relief transformed him, and it melted you.

“It feels so good, Crosshair” You praised, losing yourself as you fucked him faster. He seemed to be losing him as well, struggling to hold back any expression of his pleasure.

“So good for me, helping me like this” He breathed, looking up at you while you bounce your ass up and down on him. The motion was warming your body, working up your blood flow. The relief of warmth began flowing through the deepest part of your being, extending out to your skin, until all you cared about was being here with him at this moment.

“Stop" He mumbled suddenly, and you did just that.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, please, just stay still again" He begged. You sat deep into his lap, covering his entire length, "I want to feel you just like this. I want to see you"

Your ears couldn't believe what they were hearing. Never would you have guessed that he was so soft when he needed to be. His hands traced the shape of your body, traveling down the side of your waist. Then his grip moved to your breasts, taking one into his palm as he massaged your nipple. You threw your head back as the sensation sent a strange chill down your spine.

"Crosshair, Y/N, come in" The comms hummed in your ear, startling you out of the trance he had you in. It was Tech's voice, "Are you two alright"

"Better than alright" You responded, keeping your eyes on him beneath you. Crosshair smirked at you.

"I doubt that, considering you're trapped in a blizzard, but alright then" Tech responded, but accepted your response as a sign that you were alive, at least.

Without warning, and fueled by the strength you'd provided for him, Crosshair picked you up and laid you down. As he hovered above you, his cock still resting inside your cunt, he held the back of your head as he rested in on the rock floor of the cave.

He thrusted slow at first but picked up his momentum with a few motions.

"I'm going to come soon, but I want you to come on my cock first, darling" He asked, bringing his fingers to rub your clit again as he continued to fuck you.

"Fuck, right there" You cried, feeling your climax creep up so suddenly.

"Yeah?" He asked, knowing you were so close as you clenched around him, "Let go, it'll feel so good, Y/N"

Just then it burst open like an ignited flame, the fire spreading throughout your entire body. You cried out his name as your orgasm took over your movements and thoughts, helping your body reach an ultimate high. You'd never been fucked like this while coming at the same time, and it was almost too much for you to handle.

As you felt yourself come down from your high, he faltered in his movements, curses flying softly through his thrusts. The warm spill of his cum coated the inside of your walls, and he held himself there for a few more moments, taking every second that he could before he finally had to remove himself.

It was then that the blizzard began to break apart and subside, the outside of the cave becoming more visible. You situated yourself propped against the wall of the cave, and Crosshair did the same, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, huddling together through the very end of the storm that put you here.

"We're going to have to help each other back into these clothes when the boys pick us up" You broke the silence that you both savored after your releases, "that might be a hard one to explain"

"Only I should see you like this" He snapped, sudden jealousy taking over his tone as he imagined any of the others enjoying this sight of you like he has. That was the Crosshair you expected.

You smirked, omitting a response as you leaned into his body, trying to enjoy every last second you had with him before things likely went back to normal.

You hoped that they wouldn't.

——

A/N: feedback and comments are always so encouraging and appreciated. If you enjoyed this, please let me know❀


Tags
2 years ago

sweetheart, i will ruin you (1/3)

“I’m top of my squad for a reason.”

“What else are you on top of?"

“Clever girl. Do you want to find out?”

in which, you meet a toothpick-shaped clone at a bar, and he leaves you hanging. so you fuck every clone you can to piss him off.

***

words: 2.6k no season 2 spoilers

crossthots, come get yalls food

uh. how the fuck is the first smut i post with fucking CROSSHAIR?? I have no excuses. His voice in the S3 trailer got to me, i guess. i blame @starsscarmyceiling

18+ only, minors DNI or you will be blocked.

You didn’t set out to become the most infamous woman to ever grace the doors of 79’s, but that’s just how it happened.

Your friends- acquaintances, more like -had dragged you out to the club, wanting to see some troopers before they were deployed for action. Your crush on clones was no secret amongst your social circle, at least not after one of them discovered a pin-up clone magazine next to your vibrator after you accidentally left the bedside table drawer open.

While you liked clones, seeing them in their natural habitat at 79s felt
odd. Like you weren’t supposed to be there, like you were intruding. You and your friends in your party clothes stuck out like a sore thumb against the sea of white plastoid armor.

Then your eyes crossed his.

While he looked similar to every other clone, a crosshair symbol tattoo punctuated his right eye and his gaze shot through you like a bullet. He was leaner, taller, built like the toothpick in his mouth, and leaned against the wall with an intoxicating confidence. You blushed as he stared you down - was he staring at you since you came in?

You pulled your attention away from him and began nursing your drink, hoping your friends wouldn’t notice how flushed you were.

“I think she found one she likes,” one of your friends said, sing-songy. What was her name? Sam? She was always a bitch.

Out of the corner of your eye, he moved. Shit. A chorus of “oohs” erupted as he walked towards you, one of his hands toying with the toothpick in his mouth.

“Care for another drink?” he said, voice raspy but sultry in a way that made your pulse race and palms warm.

“
Sure,” you finally find the courage to say after a silence much too long.

“Alone?” he says. Your friends murmur.

As he slides his credit chit across the counter, you know he knows you’ll say yes. He knew he had you, just like prey in a scope.

“Why not?” you say as the bartender hands you the drink. If anything, free alcohol.

He guides you back to his booth of the bar, arm hovering over your waist. Your friends are gossiping madly, but you can’t be bothered to care. He stares at you from the other side of the narrow.

“So.” You state, and take a sip of your drink. You want to ask, why me? but think better of it. Instead of answering you, he continues to stare.

“You looked miserable. Thought I’d help you out. He breaks your gaze to peer into the neon across the bar. “Doesn’t hurt that you’re nice to look at.”

The compliment catches you off guard as you self-consciously look down at your pink velvet dress. Your chest is uncharacteristically exposed compared to what you usually wear.

“Yeah, we’re celebrating tonight. Someone’s wedding, don’t care whose. I figured, why not come with them?” The lie slips off your tongue easily enough - this man doesn’t need to know that your friends dragged you out here due to the aforementioned vibrator-magazine incident.

“You don’t seem like the type to hang out here,” he says, voice smooth as a snake, sending goosebumps up your arms.

“I’m not,” you admit. “Sick of staying in all the time, I guess.”

“We don’t see many like you in 79s,” his voice, sultry and smooth, slithers across the table. “Innocent. Not fawning.”

“I hope that’s a compliment.”

“It is, party girl.” The term of endearment sends a shot of arousal to your core and you take in a breath, trying to remain composed.

You huff. “I thought we just established that I’m the opposite of that.”

“It’s ironic. I’d thought a smart girl like you would understand that.”

You inhale, exhale, wanting to move this conversation away from topics that will only fluster you. “What’s your unit? You don’t look like any clone I’ve ever seen before.”

“Not relevant to the conversation. I want to know more about you,” he smirks. His hand rests on the table, toothpick in hand, as he leans forward.

Fine. Two could play at that game - you’re sick of his pompous assholery already, how he got your blood running hot with just a glance. You could definitely tack on the charm if necessary, and boy, did he need to be taken down a notch. You lean forward, closer to him, knowing this angle gives him a better view of your plunging neckline.

“What do you want to know, mystery man?” He surprisingly keeps his eyes level with yours and resists the urge to gaze downward. He’s not giving up so easily.

“Everything about you, sweetheart,” he says the nickname so sickeningly sweetly, “but a name will do the job for now.”

It’s so hard to keep your composure as his eyes bore into yours. More alcohol would help, and you take another sip.

“Mira,” you say your real name, realizing after the fact that you should have given this man- who likely has a higher killcount than you have friends -a fake name.

“Mira,” he purrs, drawing out the syllables. “Suits you.” As his words shiver down your spine, you suddenly don’t regret giving him your real name.

“And you?” Your friends are long forgotten now as the pounding music of the club matches your heartbeat.

“Crosshair,” he says, and you snort into your drink. “What’s so funny?”

“Apt name,” you murmur. “Considering.” You gesture to his eye tattoo.

“Ah. Well, I don’t let anything out of my sight once they've caught my eye, so it fits.” The innuendo makes heat pool between your legs and he leans even closer. Stars, your foreheads were almost touching.

“And I’d say someone just entered my sights,” he finishes.

You break his gaze. Look at his lips, took another sip.

“Is that so?” is all you can muster. Fuck, your voice broke, and he smirks.

He tilts his head. “I’m top of my squad for a reason.” His hand grazes your forearm, and the electricity it sends across your body is nearly as intoxicating as the alcohol. You desperately want to turn the tables on him, make him the one blushing crimson, so you muster your confidence.

“What else are you on top of?” You try to alluringly run your hand over his arm, press your nails ever so gently into his forearm, but your hands shake and you can’t meet his eyes.

He chuckles. “Clever girl. Do you want to find out?”

You force yourself to look him in the eye, willing yourself not to imagine exactly what that would be like. “I’d love to see you on top.”

His grip on your arm tightens. “That
can be arranged.” His breath echoes on your cheek, and you wish this damn table wasn’t in the way. Crosshair notices how pressed up you are against it.

“Eager, aren’t you?” He chuckles.

“Don’t act as if you aren’t dying to get your hands all over me,” you say.

He takes the toothpick from his mouth and drags it along your arm. “Now why would I do that and ruin the chase?”

The toothpick, while not sharp, is just pointy enough to leave a brief white mark along your arm, and you shiver. Crosshair stands up, your hand in his, and the soft gesture catches you by surprise. Before you can linger on it, though, his hand moves to wrap along your waist as he pulls you into a dim alcove of the bar. You’re backed into the wall, and he looks about to lay his hands on either side of you when a familiar voice perks up.

“Mira, are you coming? We’re going to hit the next bar,” Sam says. Instantly, your stomach coils, and not in the pleasurable way you were hoping for.

“She’s occupied,” Crosshair murmurs.

“I didn’t ask you, toothpick,” Sam retorts. Crosshair scowls at the nickname.

“Are you coming, Mira?”

“No,” you respond. While you appreciated Sam checking in to make sure you were okay, you really wish she hadn’t barged in on such an
intimate moment.

“I’ll holo you later,” you say. You were about to say you would catch up with them later, but you realized the odds of that happening were getting lower and lower.

Sam looked between you and Crosshair, somewhat confused. “Alright. Be safe.”

Crosshair looks behind to make sure the two of you wouldn’t be interrupted again. When he’s satisfied your friends have left, he runs a hand along the side of your face.

“Now. Where were we?” he whispers into your neck. Bolts of pleasure coarse along your skin, and you instinctively place your hands around his torso. Crosshair hums appreciatively and comes closer to closing the gap between the two of you. This wasn’t your first time doing something like this - hell, it wasn’t your first time getting physical at the bar - but it had never been this sensual, this nerve-wracking before.

Crosshair’s running his hands on the most innocent parts of your body -arms, hands, clavicle - in a way that feels simply erotic. He hasn’t even kissed you yet, and you feel like jelly. Your hair has most certainly fallen from its once-pristine updo and a slight sheen of sweat covers your forehead.

“So responsive,” he hums into your neck. “I am going to ruin you, sweetheart.”

“And I’ll do the same to you,” you pant, knowing your disheveled state suggests otherwise.

“Really? I’d like to see you try,” he laughs into your neck. His leg pushes slightly into your thigh in a move that almost seems accidental, but the delightful pressure that results couldn’t have been a mistake. You hold back a moan. Stars, no man had ever unraveled you this completely in such a short amount of time. Usually, you were the one calling the shots, the one pushing them against the wall.

In an attempt to gain some control over the situation, you push yourself into his body, but given the way he leans in and fucking smirks, you know it was what he wanted all along. Crosshair, with one hand wrapped around your waist, perks your chin up with his other hand so you meet his eyes.

“You are such a delicate little thing,” he says, and then he kisses you.

First kisses were typically gentle, but Crosshair was not a typical man. His lips are rough and nearly nonexistent, and he immediately pushes his tongue into your mouth. You gasp and whimper as you relent against the wall. His body is fully against you now, one leg gently brushing your inner thighs. Your hands curl around the base of his neck as your legs widen and your tongue brushes his. You run your tongue along the base of his teeth, a move that elicits the slightest gasp from him. Before you can gloat at the minor victory, though, he presses harder against you and his hard cock becomes apparent against your thighs.

The thought that he was as turned on by this as you were causes you to whimper and lean into the kiss, not caring that you were in public and there were definitely people watching. Who cares? It was 79s, after all. Debauchery was expected and encouraged.

You slightly buck your hips and by the way Crosshair grunts, you know he was ready to take you then and there, and by the feeling of wetness between your legs, you were too. His arm that was behind you reaches up and buries into your hair, pulling your face even closer to him. Wanting to reciprocate his level of passion, and overcome with desire, you give his ass a light smack. Crosshair immediately pulls away from you, and you know you’ve made a mistake.

“I am in charge here, sweetheart. Do something like that again and I’ll make sure you remember.” His words, while a threat, make your knees buckle underneath you. You want to know what would happen if you disobeyed him again, but you want to continue with what you’ve begun too much to find out.

“Understood,” you respond, breath ragged. He pulls away from you further and looks around.

“How about a change in scenery?” He asks, and you nod, a bit too eagerly for your liking.

Crosshair leads you out of 79s, and the lingering glances from other patrons make you blush - as if you weren’t just getting hot and heavy in the back corner. He leads you to an alleyway not far from the bar, in between two buildings. Thankfully, there appear to be no windows, and he’s led you to an area nestled between boxes that would be difficult to find if you weren’t looking for it. The dangers of following a man with possessive tendencies into a dark alleyway at night aren’t lost on you, but you find yourself too worked up to care.

“I bet you take all the girls here,” you rib.

“Only the clever ones,” he says, but before you can quip a response, you’re back against the wall and his mouth is on your neck, covering it in little licks. You put a hand over your mouth, self censoring.

“Don’t mute yourself, sweetheart. I want to hear how much I ruin you,” he says as he leans up from your neck. “Nobody can hear you back here.”

The thought should terrify you, but it only makes you louder as Crosshair slips a hand between the flimsy scraps of fabric that cover your breasts. His hands gently caress them as you moan, a tenderness you weren’t expecting from him. He’s pulled away from your neck and now watches you with intense concentration as his hand palms your breast. You attempt to rub your knee between his legs, but you’re too weak from his hands for it to be a worthwhile effort. Stars, you wanted this man, and you wanted him in a dingey alleyway on the lower levels of Coruscant. What was the galaxy coming to?

“That’s it,” he encourages as you unravel against the wall. The hand that was wrapped around your breast slowly works its way down between your legs. Your dress is short and he can easily slide his hand on the outside of your underwear; the slight pressure from his hand against your center makes your head splay back as you let out a heady moan.

“You’re so wet,” he nearly moans. His voice is more labored now, obviously aroused at your arousal. He seems close to breaking the façade of uncaring bastard, brows furrowed and mouth taut. The hand between your legs fastens, but only agonizingly so.

“Crosshair,” you moan, and he closes his eyes at the mention of his name. You rock against his hand, desperate for any sort of contact. You needed this.

And then, just as quickly as it started, he pulls his hand away from you and you whimper.

“What
” you say, not really a question, but a statement. “Is something wrong?” Crosshair looks labored, torn, even, but then the signature asshole persona slips back into place.

“Sorry to get you worked up, sweetheart, but I’ve got places to be. You’re a mess - you should clean up before heading out.” He pauses. “You were
alright. I’ll be in touch.”

And then Crosshair left, leaving you aching and wanting in the alley near 79s as you were left wondering what you did wrong.

2 years ago

sweetheart, i will ruin you (2/4)

first of all - no i didn't make a typo. this has ballooned to an extra part oops. many thanks to my beta readers @wanderer-six and @starsscarmyceiling <3 love u both

Chapter 2: to make crosshair jealous, you take a certain clone medic home from the bar.

tw: unprotected piv, oral (female receiving), light femdom, making out, jealousy, possessive undertones

Sweetheart, I Will Ruin You (2/4)
Sweetheart, I Will Ruin You (2/4)

-Cr0SS9904 sent you a message- sorry to leave you hanging, sweetheart I had to give you something to look forward to. You said: You’re a dick. Cr0SS9904: You love it

You threw the holopad on the bed beside you. How Crosshair had even found your contact information, you were unsure of, but you supposed he had the resources to find you.

He was awful. You never wanted to see him again considering how completely he had unraveled you in that alley. And yet, he was right. You did love it, but you weren’t used to feeling so completely out of control.

It was mid afternoon, and you wipe the mascara from your eyes. You hadn’t bothered to wash it off last night, as you had collapsed in a heap in your bed after your escapades.

As you hop into the fresher to wash the night off of you, you remember how Crosshair’s hands had roamed over your body - your face, your breasts, your thighs, and the places between. That bastard had left you unsatisfied and humiliated, and you’re tempted to grab your vibrator to finish the job. But oh, it’d feel so much better to have someone else do the job for you.

Then you had the idea.

Resisting the urge to get yourself off, you jump out of the fresher and grab a towel. It was nearly evening, but you had just enough time to get dolled up and stop by a bar


The plan was simple. Return to 79s, make eye contact with Crosshair, then make out with a random guy at the bar. With any luck, you’d piss him off just as much as he pissed you off, as you had a hunch Crosshair was slightly possessive. And maybe you could finally get some release. Throwing around some prettyboy seemed like a decent way to blow off steam, at least.

Of course, there were no guarantees that Crosshair even frequented 79s, or that you’d find anyone willing to go along with your plan (considering you wanted to make them well aware of the situation, lest they catch any feelings or feel used). But hey, maybe you’d get your kicks.

You enter 79s, this time alone. The bumping music drowns out your inner voice, and your fears about being recognized from your little stunt last night fade away. You inconspicuously scan the room for Crosshair - and there he was, sitting alone in the back of the club. Had he come here because he’d thought you’d be here? Or maybe he was here to find his next victim, Maker rest their soul.

You stare him in the eyes, unwilling to be so passive in your dynamic any longer, and he smirks in response. Oh, you hated him, and you hated how his smugness got your heart beating faster. After shooting one last glare at him, you sit at the bar and order a nonalcoholic cocktail. While you want something to drink, you want to be in full control of your functions when Crosshair sees you making out with someone else in front of him.

As you sip the sugary confection, you scope your surroundings, and make eye contact with a clone. He is similar to the others, as all clones were, but he has a tattoo on the side of his head that reads “A good droid is a dead one.” He’s cute, and smiles as you make eye contact.

“Hey, beautiful,” he says.

“Hey yourself,” you say, and turn towards him. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Crosshair sneer, roll his eyes, and lean against the wall.

“What brings you here?” you ask.

“Mandatory shore leave. Can’t say I don’t need it, though. What about you?”

You glance over at Crosshair, and lean closer to the clone. “Honestly? Looking for a rebound.”

He snorts into his drink. “Straight to the point, eh?”

You narrow your eyes and smirk, knowingly. “Who said I was asking you?”

He huffs. “Fair. I guess I have to earn it. What’s your name, gorgeous?”

“Mira.” You flutter your lashes, just a tad. “And yours?”

“Nice to meet you, Mira. Name’s Kix.”

“Kix, eh? I like it.” You lower your voice, rest your chin on your fist. “And what do you do for the Grand Army of the Republic?”

“I’m a medic. 501st.”

“Ah, a medic. So you’re good with your hands.” You sip your drink. “And
anatomy, too, I’d imagine.” He’s faintly blushing, but leans towards you.

“Yeah, I’d say I’m pretty familiar with all parts of the body,” he says, voice confident, and you smile. Bite your lip. Look him up and down. All rehearsed, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying yourself.

“501st, too. You’ve gotta be somewhat good at what you do.” You dangle a finger along the forearm of his armor.

“I’d be more than happy to give you a live demonstration. To make sure you have nothing but confidence in the Republic army, of course,” he says, and you laugh. He was cute, and he made your heart race and heat between your legs pool. God, you were still so worked up from last night.

Your hand presses down onto his armor. “I’d love that.” With your other hand, you trace the tattoo on the side of his head. A pang of guilt passes through you, and you realize you want to make sure Kix is sure this is just a fling.

“I’d love to keep going, prettyboy,” you drawl, “I just want you to know something first. This dickhead fucked with me at the bar last night- made me look really stupid, actually -and I want to make him jealous. You’re cute, and I’d love to have a good time with you, but
”

He laughs. “Jealous, huh? Well, he doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

“Are you up for it, then?”

“That depends. What’s in it for me?”

“I thought a night with me would be enough reward.”

“That’s true,” Kix says, leaning forward and kissing you, softly but not timidly. The confidence transfers through his lips onto yours, and you squeeze his forearm.

“I guess you’re fine with a fling, then?” You pull away.

“I’d never miss a chance for a night with a beauty like you,” he says. “Besides, nice to get some no-strings-attached action. As I’m sure you can imagine, women tend to get
attached to me,” he winks.

You roll your eyes and give him a peck. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Crosshair. Somehow, he was still sitting across the club, stoic but with a twinge of disappointment. Good. As your eyes make contact, he takes another swig of his drink. You hope he’s regretting what he missed out on last night.

“That him?” Kix asks.

“Yeah,” you say.

“Crosshair, eh? Oh, I know him. He’s an ass.” Kix stands, offers his hand, which you take and rise.

“Don’t worry, we’ll make him jealous,” he says before dipping you down and kissing you right in Crosshair’s line of sight. The kiss turns hot as he cups your face with his free hand and pushes against you just a little bit more, and you feel your body twinge with a familiar yearn. One of your hands massage the back of his neck, and Kix lets out a murmur of relaxation. Kix iswarm and smells like spiced berries; you wonder if his skin tasted as sweet as it smelled.

When you pull away from Kix, he smiles. “How was that?” he huffs into your cheek.

“Pretty good,” you smile. Placing a finger on his armor, you whisper, “But I like it better when I’m in control. How’d you like to be bossed around?”

It was the first time you caught Kix off guard. His eyes widen, but soon the suave soldier was back. “Like I said, anything for a night with you.” His grip on your waist tightened. “But
I’d like that. Ma’am.” Kix calling you “Ma’am” sent liquid heat through your body, but you kept your composure. Crosshair was far out of your mind now, your only thoughts being how you were going to completely destroy this man.

“Good. Keep calling me that,” you say as you lead Kix to the back of the bar. You push him against the wall, not dissimilar to the position you were in last night - but you aren’t going to leave Kix hanging. Your lips skim his neck and he lets out a soft moan, a sound that sends chills across your skin and lights fire in your chest.

“Such a good sound,” you encourage.

“All for you, ma’am,” he breathes, and you nearly moan at how disheveled he already sounded. You kiss him, body sinking into his, and you could tell he was getting hard. The kiss was slow but passionate, lips moving slowly.

“I can’t wait to unravel you,” you say, and his hips slightly buck against you. You raise an eyebrow.

“Sorry- can’t help it -I’ve got a beautiful woman nearly on top of me,” he huffs, still the wisecracker. Obviously, he was thinking too straight, and you needed to fix that. You laugh, push into his body, harder, and he groans as the heat between your legs gets some delicious pressure. Your hands roam his torso, and stars, you couldn’t wait to get him out of his armor. You weren’t that debauched that you were going to fuck him in the middle of the bar - though, it would certainly make things easier than traveling back to your apartment. Sigh.

You kiss Kix tenderly but passionately, and you are so pushed up against him that he wraps his legs around you, remaining glued to the wall. Your hands clutch underneath his thighs, and even with the armor on, you can tell they were strong, muscles taut. Even though this was purely physical, you can still sense an undercurrent of tenderness between the two of you that was absent from your tryst with Crosshair. That maybe, you want with Crosshair.

You try to shoo the image of Crosshair out of your mind, but the thought of treating Crosshair like this, kissing him deeply and affectionately, making such a stoic man a whimpering puddle - it makes you kiss Kix harder. Crosshair, his hands in your hair and moaning in your mouth, him yielding his body over to you. You know Crosshair is watching you now, you can nearly feel his gaze burning through your back, and you wonder if he wished he was in Kix’s place.

Kix. Remember this was with Kix.

Maybe getting out of the club- out of Crosshair’s gaze -was the solution.

“Want to get out of here, head back to my place?” you whisper into Kix’s ear.

“Thought you’d never ask,” he says.

As you pull Kix out of the club, you make brief eye contact with Crosshair. His expression is unreadable, but if you had to guess, it’s somewhere between stunned and pissed off. You hope that he was pissed - jealous, even - though the two of you were nothing to each other. When you step out of the door to 79s, you try to put Crosshair out of your mind. This was a hookup, now, and you wanted to enjoy yourself.

The cab ride back to your apartment is filled with desperate kisses and pleading hands, promises of what’s to come. You’re thankful the cab driver is a droid - otherwise, you wouldn’t be nearly as handsy with the boytoy in the backseat with you.

When you enter your apartment, Kix looks around and looks like he’s about to start a conversation, but you’re too desperate for any sort of touch that you kiss him before he can say anything. His hands wrap around your waist, and you slowly push him towards your bedroom.

When the backs of Kix’s legs hit your bed, you start to paw at his armor. Kix pulls away from you, chuckling.

“You know what you want, don’t you?” He asks as he helps unclasp his armor.

“Interesting choice of words from someone who is as hard as a rock right now,” you mumble into his neck as your hand gently graces his codpiece. His legs shift at your touch.

His armor falls to the floor, next to your crumpled pink dress from last night, the one that Crosshair had roamed his hands all over. You hate how, even when you’re about to fuck another man, he invades your thoughts. You funnel that anger into pushing Kix onto your bed and straddling him. You need pleasure, now, something to calm the cocktail of desire and anger thrashing through your veins. Kix is just in his blacks, and he looks at you, a mix of shock and adoration on his face.

“This is definitely not how I saw my night going,” he says. “But I’m certainly not complaining.”

In response, you smirk and pull your dress over your head, abandoning it on the floor. You neglected to wear a bra tonight as it’d just get in the way, leaving you naked save for your underwear. He gapes at your breasts, and he raises his hand to hover over one of them, a question in his pause.

“You can touch me,” you say, and lean down to pin your hands on either side of him. “You can touch me anywhere. ” Your voice pricks goosebumps along his skin as he gently caresses you, a soft gasp escaping your lips.

“You’re beautiful, darling,” he says, then remembers your ask from earlier. “I mean, ma’am,” he winks. The use of ‘ma’am’ causes your hips to roll against him, and he moans, louder than he had at the club. It’s a deep and delicious sound, and you lean down.

“What do you want me to do to you?” You ask, hips gently grinding against him and lips hovering over his cheek.

“Anything you want,” he breathes. You grab his hands and push them on either side of his body, pinning him down.

“Anything?” you ask. He’s grinding into you now.

“Fuck yes, ma’am,” he says between moans. “You can do anything
I’ll do anything
please, fuck, touch me, ma’am.”

“How could I deny such a request when you’ve asked so nicely?” You buckle your hips into his, pleasure radiating from your core. Your hands release his hands and immediately roam under the shirt of his blacks, pulling them off. He’s quaking underneath you, and you lean down, kissing his neck and moving down to his chest.

“So gorgeous,” you moan into him, licking and sucking along his chest, leaving red and purple bruises in your wake. He’s hard underneath you, and you know you’re ready to take him now, but you wanted to extract as much pleasure from this as possible.

“I want to cum twice, Kix,” you demand, not a question.

“Yes ma’am. Anything. Fuck, this is so hot.” He’s already a sweaty, disheveled mess underneath you.

“I’m going to sit on your face,” you say. “Can you handle that, Kix?”

He nods. “Yes, ma’am. Please.” You smile at his eagerness and finish undressing, climbing his sturdy body, pressing yourself to his mouth.

“Fuck,” is all Kix says before he begins to lick. This is what you’ve been waiting for - Kix wrapping his arms around your thighs, his tongue sending electric pleasure throughout your body. You moan, loudly and repeatedly, and this only encourages Kix to work on you even harder. He’s fully erect underneath his blacks, and the thought that this was turning him on as much as it did for you made the pleasure feel all the more better.

Again, though, was that nagging thought - Crosshair eating you out, straining against his blacks, begging for you to touch him. Crosshair at your mercy . Instead of pushing the thought away this time, though, you embrace it and allow yourself to imagine it was Crosshair underneath you as your grip on your inhibitions was severely weakened. It was a self-fulfilling cycle - you hated Crosshair for invading your mind so deeply you thought of him even when you were fucking another man, and you wanted to put him in his place, so you imagined you were fucking Crosshair instead of the man beneath you. Fuck.

Crosshair - no, Kix - kept at you until you reached a familiar peak. His hands dig into your ass, as if he was afraid that if he didn’t hold you so tightly, you’d float away. This was definitely not his first time eating pussy.

“I’m close, Kix,” you say, grateful you used the right name when you spoke. Kix moans in anticipation, his hips bucking against the air as his tongue circles your clit. You cum hard against his face, riding the high for as long as you could as he caresses small circles into your thighs with his thumbs. You dismount and collapse on top of him, immediately kissing him sloppily, not caring that he tasted like you.

“You did such a good job,” you praise, mostly proud, but a small part ashamed that you were thinking of another.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he pants. “You’re awakening parts of me I didn’t even know I had.” You smile in response and kiss him again, wrapping your arms around him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re taken care of,” you breathe between kisses. “I just
need a second. You did a really good job.”

“Well, I did say I was skilled in all parts of the body,” he retorts before kissing you again. His hands run along your body as you reignite, kissing his neck and lavishing him with praises for how well he took care of you. Your hands slip under his pants and you pull them down, freeing his cock.

“Oh, please,” Kix pants.

“Mm. Do you want me to ride you?” You ask.

“Please. Please, ride me, ma’am. I need it. I’m begging you.”

You barely run your hand along his length, and he thrashes underneath you. You shudder, and lean up from him, biting your lip.

“Are you ready?” You say, and in response, he gives incomprehensible babble about how he needs this and he needs you. As your hips roll into him, you relax as he groans with pleasure. One of his hands lazily makes its way up to your breast as you start to slowly ride Kix, giving out soft gasps as he works his way inside of you. Stars, he feels so good, and you close your eyes as you gently rock your hips.

“That’s it,” you say as Kix squirms and bucks underneath you. “Unravel for me, baby.” He’s so gorgeous like this, eyes half-shut and body covered in sweat, and you call out sweet praises saying so. He seems to like the praise, as it causes him to moan a little louder and his hips to thrust a little harder. His hand falls away from your breast.

“I can’t even think straight,” he admits. “You’re so perfect, ma’am. Fuck, I’m close.” You are too.

And there’s that nagging thought again, wondering if this would be like riding Crosshair - if he would fall apart as beautifully and obediently as Kix would, or if he would tease and nag. You want to know, and the thought fuels you as you ride Kix harder, almost as if you could physically push the thoughts out of your mind with a thrust.

When Kix cums, he lets out a moan that pushes you over the edge. You tumble down the precipice together, convulsing and moaning. You fall on top of Kix in the afterglow, giving him a soft kiss as he wraps the blankets around you.

“Damn,” he says. “I think you fucked my brains out.” You huff a laugh in response.

“Stay?” You ask. “Don’t worry, I’m not catching feelings,” you preemptively state. “I just need cuddles after sex.”

He laughs, and wraps an arm around you. “Don’t tell anyone, but me too.”

Kix falls asleep quickly, but persistent thoughts keep you awake. Fucking Crosshair. You hated him. Hated how you wanted to see him beneath you, how you wanted to ride his face for hours, how you wanted to make him your little bitch. At least the jealousy sex you were getting out of it was good.

Eventually, you fall asleep long after the afterglow fades, your mind plagued with thoughts of him and things you would never have.

Kix leaves in the morning with little fanfare, and immediately after he leaves, you pull out your holopad and send Crosshair a message, knowing he’ll understand.

You said: CT-6116. More where that came from. 😘

Sweetheart, I Will Ruin You (2/4)
Sweetheart, I Will Ruin You (2/4)

Tags
2 years ago

Comfort and Chamomile

A Bad Batch Fanfiction

Pairing: Crosshair x Reader

Word Count: Aprox. 750

Summary: You're miserable and sick on the Havoc Marauder, and no matter what you do, you can't seem to feel any better. Crosshair takes notice and decides he's not going to ask questions- he's just going to help, and he does it in the best ways possible.

A/N: This is for @fives-girlfriend. Based off your recent posts, I figured you could use a little something. I hope you enjoy and feel better soon, friend!

Taglist: @techs-stitches @nahoney22 @zaya-mo @photogirl894 @erellenora

Comfort And Chamomile

“Here.” Crosshair held out the bottle of medicine Tech had purchased earlier that day. “Take it.”

“I already did,” you muttered, trying to adjust yourself in the highly uncomfortable chair you had spent the afternoon in. The entire Batch had insisted you rest and recuperate, but no matter where you went in the Marauder, nowhere was comfortable, so you had settled on a chair in the cockpit, where at least you had a decent view. Your joints felt like they were on fire, and every movement caused them to hurt all the more, but in a last stitch effort to get comfortable, you pulled your knees up to your chest, trying to ignore the twisted feeling in your stomach.

“That was 6 hours ago. You need to take more.” Crosshair held it closer to you, but you ignored him, wincing as your sinuses burned with every breath you took. You were sore, in pain, and downright miserable. Logically, you knew you should take the medicine
. But
. You just didn’t want to. You wanted to curl into a ball and just
 sleep? Cry? You didn’t know at this point, you were just so drained.

But you saw the concerned look Crosshair gave when he thought you weren’t paying attention and decided to surrender. You reached over and gulped down the dose he offered you, whimpering slightly, both in disgust and pain as the taste lingered in your mouth and your joints screamed in protest of your movement.

Crosshair stood there for a moment before heading towards the back of the ship wordlessly. When he returned, he was almost completely hidden by the large stack of grey and red blankets in his arms. You recognized several of them and realized that there would be multiple Batch members who would awake later and find themselves missing their sleeping amenities, but Crosshair didn’t seem to care. He laid them out in rumpled but fluffy layers on the floor, before disappearing again into the back of the ship. He returned once more, this time with a canteen of some sort in hand, before taking a seat on the veritable mountain of blankets. He motioned you to come over, and you were about to plop down beside him when he pulled you into his lap, the two of you coming almost face to face.

“Crosshair, I don’t want you to get sick!” you protested, but he simply shook his head.

“I don’t care. Now shut up for a minute.” He pulled you into a warm hug, burying his face in your neck, his fingers gently massaging the small of your back as he held you close. You slowly began to relax, resting your head on Crosshair’s shoulder as you just sat there and felt him breathe
 slowly
 calmly. He’d never ask you to do this- He’d just
 well
 do it. And you wished he’d do it more.

You winced as a burst of pain shot through your sinuses, the burning sensation that you’d been dealing with all day becoming increasingly noticeable. Crosshair started, realizing your discomfort and he gently helped you turn around and take a seat between his legs on the blanket, your back resting comfortably against his chest as he grabbed an extra blanket and laid it securely over you. He snatched the canteen he had brought in and wrapped his arms around you, opening it in front of you.

The smell of chamomile tea drifted out of it, the warm steam floating up into your burning airways, and soothing them immensely. You relaxed and took several deep breaths as Crosshair held the container under your nose, enjoying the feeling of being able to breathe normally for the first time in hours. You clasped it in your hands, taking it from him, and took a hesitant sip.

Sweet and smooth hot liquid cleansed your pallet, and you sighed, letting your head fall back against Crosshair’s chest. He pulled you close, gently messaging the base of your neck with one hand, the other hand wrapped around your waist. He gently kissed your burning hot temple, stroking your hair back and out of your face. He didn’t scold you or offer any verbal commentary of any sort
 but you didn’t need him to. His actions spoke far louder than words ever could.

So, he just held you there in the comfortable silence, as you sipped your tea and listened to him breathe
 the aches in your body countered by the warmth of the blankets and Crosshair’s protective, loving embrace
 and before long, you drifted into a peaceful and restful sleep in his arms.


Tags
2 years ago

@superiorsniper this about u? *offers hug*

reblog to give somebody a fucking hug because we are all struggling to get through it. solidarity in this tough ass world.

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snarky-mans-gf - We don’t usually work with regs
We don’t usually work with regs

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