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
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.”
currently taking requests for
adrian chase
richie kirsch
hughie campbell
crosshair
tech
pairing: crosshair x gn!reader (no y/n). reader has a nickname.
description: in which a tired crosshair returns home to you.
word count: 3,334
warnings: non-explicit nudity (i guess), mild sexual references. otherwise, this is just soft domestic fluff with crosshair.
seeing crosshair on mount tantiss broke my heart, and i couldn’t get the idea of crosshair loving having his hair washed out of my head either. so i wrote this <3 there are also not enough soft crosshair fics out there, so i’m on a mission to remedy that.
also posted this on ao3. feedback is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated <3
The sun had just set on Coruscant, and a holo was playing in the background as you did the dishes, humming quietly. It had been a long day, your boss had been breathing down your neck all day, and it was nice to finally be home in your little apartment, relaxing. You’d gotten home a couple of hours ago, had a shower, made yourself dinner, poured a drink, and caught up on some of your favourite holodramas.
Spending time alone was something you’d grown used to. You enjoyed it, but it was hard to ignore the moments when you missed him.
Keep reading
Crosshair is rescued and moves to Pabu with his siblings. He has a hard time adjusting to non-military life, but he's getting there. He meets you, another islander, and is absolutely SMITTEN. Doesn't know how to approach you, and doesn't want to ruin his chances at this new life, so he's super quiet and actually pretty sweet. He offers to help you with your gardening, maintenance on your boat, compliments your baking. Sure, he still gives you the occasional sarcastic remark and maintains his dry sense of humor, but he's making a distinct effort to not fuck this up.
When you run into his siblings they're like "You've met our brother Crosshair, right? He moved here not too long ago."
"Oh yeah, he's so nice!"
And they're like WHAT?! There must be another Crosshair on this island because our Crosshair is NOT nice. It takes them a while to realize that YEAH that's our Crosshair, he's just got a massive fucking soft spot for you. They've never seen him with a crush before and they are living for it.
My bbygworls
Sluttiest thing a man can do is have pronounced cheek bones I stg
This was based on the following request:
Hey I was wondering if I could have something nice and sweet with a soft crosshair×f reader....maybe she had a nightmare and had big anxiety so crosshair is trying to calm her down? Idk I love rough crosshair as much as soft crosshair lol!
This fic is for you anon and this may be slightly out of character for Crosshair but hey ho! Let's go!
Warnings: None
Word Count: 2.5K
Crosshair had been secretly pining for you stay in his arms after your friends with benefits arrangement. Not that the sex wasn't incredible, it left him elated and exhausted in equal measure.
And yet, after every encounter, you would make excuses and leave. He didn't want to plea for you to stay, it wasn't in his nature. Pulling yourself away from. He would try to make you stay, by wrapping his arms tight around you. Every time he did this, he secretly hoped that you would melt into his arms and stay there the whole night. The two of you comforted by the feeling of the other in their arms. But you never did.
If we were being truthful, it began to irritate him after a while. It irked him to his core. How could he express that wanted more than the current arrangement, if you ran away after the astonishing sex? You'd perfected the motion of rutting into each other, of tongues dancing in a passion union. He tried becoming more affectionate during the sex, hoping you'd get the hint. Hoping you'd understand the things he couldn't say. He would brush his knuckles over your cheek gently, stare longingly into your eyes, slow the pace so he could play with your body more sensually, making everything gentler. He would hold you close, melting into you as he thrust into you.
But you couldn't stay.
Not because you didn't want to and not because you weren't sure if Crosshair wanted to stay. You knew now that he wanted you to stay. You didn't stay because you didn't want him to know about the nightmares. You had them every night and you didn't want to share that with the man you'd slowly fallen in love with.
So, pained, you left. After every delectable encounter. Even though he is trying to convince you to stay and the feeling of his arms around you want to cling to him through the night. Share the intimate space and feelings together.
But you couldn't stay.
Until one night, Crosshair had been on top of you, propped up on his elbows. This time he had to say it. He took the risk and pressed his forehead to yours. Slowly, he lowered his lips to yours, placing a gentle kiss upon them. It was a whisper of a kiss, so soft and light that you weren’t sure he had done it. It was different from the usual fire you felt when you were together. As he stared intently at you, now softening inside of you, he kept his face close to yours as whispered, “stay.”
“I can’t,” you said, and it was almost a plea. A please to not let him see that side of you. He kissed you again, this time it was firm and passionate. Then he whispered it again, “stay with me.” With those soft eyes staring at you with a burning desire, you could hardly say no. Even though you wanted to.
So, in that moment, you caved. Tonight, you’ll stay. Nodding your head, he smiled softly and rolled off of you, body pressed against the wall. You positioned yourselves so your head lay on his chest, his head resting atop yours. One of your hands entwined with his over his chest. You had to admit that you adored the sensation of being together.
You couldn’t help but fall asleep in the arms of this grumpy yet sweet and caring man. You fell asleep listening to his heartbeat. Crosshair was delighted, he tried to hide his smile and he rested his atop yours. It was the comfort and pleasure he had craved for a while and finally you were here, in his arms. He sighed softly, grasping you closer with the arm that was lazily grazing against your skin. It tickled but you found yourself comforted by the sensation. You listened intently as his heart rate slowed and his fingers grazed slower and slower until you both drifted off to sleep.
You were in Palace of the Jedi. Your lightsaber was glowing a hazy blue in the darkness of the hall. You’d hidden yourself in an alcove. You’d heard it over and over again. Order 66: The assassination of all the Jedi. That included you. You took a deep brearh as you considered the quickest route out of the temple.
You began to sneak down the corridor, hoping you wouldn’t encounter any clones. You were not so lucky. A group of troopers spotted you and began firing. You countered their shots, carefully aiming them back but only to injure, not to kill. One by one they fell to the ground. There were two left and so you lurched yourself forward, sliding across the floor and slicing the legs of the clones.
You continued running, trying to escape. When you managed to get through the doorway, you noticed him. Anakin. Your dear friend who has slaughtered younglings. Your dear friend who had turned to the Dark Side. As you looked at him, anger in your eyes, he looked at you with an angered pain. Our Anakin was still in there.
“You will die here,” he sneered at you, “you are weak. You were always weak. You will not get in the way of my new Empire.” His lightsaber suddenly alight, he began to circle you like prey.
You woke with a start. As you always did. Bolting upright you began panting heavily, feeling trapped in the memory. Your lightsaber snapped into your hand as you called for it. Luckily, you only kept it in your hand and did not light it. Your breathing was out of control. He will find me again, he’ll kill me, these thoughts circuited out your brain. Nothing else was getting in.
Crosshair heard you call out to the friends you lost in your sleep. He heard you mention Order 66. Your yelling and cries had awoken him and he tried to hold you closer but your body was rigid in fear. He stroked your hair gently, hoping it would calm you.
When you sat up suddenly, Crosshair mimicked your action, gently placing his arm around your shoulder. He had moved the second you yelled out. He reached for the lightsaber in your hand, whispering gently in your ear, “your safe. Just breathe.” As he repeated those words gently, eventually your grip on your lightsaber slacked and he placed it to one side.
He slowly guided you to sit at the edge of the bed, he crawled between your knees. The solid floor causing him to wince slightly at the contact. He knew that the upright position should help you. But his eyes were trained on you, your eyes were glazed over as if you were still dreaming, you were mumbling the word stop over and over. You began to rock back and forth slightly, suddenly clutching at your sides.
Crosshair placed your hands in his and asked you to breathe with him. In and out. In and out. In and out. You both repeated the breathing for a short while until you stopped shaking and rocking. Yet, your eyes remained trained on the floor unable to look at him. He removed one of his hands from yours and reached up to brush it against your cheek.
“Was it a nightmare about Order 66?” He asked and you nodded.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He queried cautiously and slowly. His deep voice vibrating through his body. You shook your head rapidly. His fingers were now playing with your hair as he gently stroked the side of your face, over your ear where he tucked your hair. Whilst he was doing this, something clicked into place in his head,
“You never stayed before because of your nightmares.” This wasn’t a question. Just a mere statement that was breathed out as he looked at you. Your eyes finally met his, and yours began to fill with tears.
“I’m sorry,” you sniffled, “I didn’t want you to see me like this. I always wanted to stay but I couldn’t let you see this. I’m sorry.” Crosshair’s heart lurched at your confession and tears.
“You have nothing to be sorry for. I want to help you if you have nightmares.” Crosshair sighed softly, his hand landing on your shoulder, where he rubbed small, feather-like circles on your bare skin. “I care about you. I don’t want you to be alone, particularly when you’re hurting.”
“I care for you too, Crosshair.” You whispered softly.
"I knew my attempts to make you stay weren't that subtle." You couldn't help but giggle slightly and shortly at this.
"N-no, I picked up on those signals a long time ago." You retorted gently. He offered up a small smirk and brushed his knuckles of tear stained cheek once more. He reached up and placed a small kiss to your forehead.
Realising he had nothing further to say, Crosshair crawled back across the bed and lay on his back. You simply watched him as he did so. When he opened his arms for you, you crawled back to him, laying with your head on his chest. You were still shaking a little, but you slowly calmed as he stroked your back gently. He was warm and comfortable but he had become stoic and calm to in equal measure. You couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking about and so you asked him what was on his mind. He dipped his head down to look at you and you were already looking up at him.
"I'm thinking about your nightmares. About Order 66." He said softly, still stroking your back. He was silent for a moment before he added, "no matter what comes our way, I'll always protect you."
"I know." You murmured into his chest as the heaviness of sleep began to wash over you. Eventually, you both fell back to sleep. There were no more nightmares that night.
Crosshair x Jedi!Reader
A/N: Thanks you so much to @starrylothcat and @a-single-tulip for going over this for me!
Prompts given: Telling someone you love them while you think they’re asleep and tentative kisses in the dark.
Warnings: 18+, unprotected p in v (wrap it up irl), Crosshair being Crosshair, canon battles, violence, clone deaths 😭, if I’ve missed anything please @ me.
Word Count: 6.8k+
Tagging: @techs-feral-wife
“General! Look out!”
Upon hearing the warning, you automatically threw your hands up as the debris littered the ground around you. Casting the force shield as wide as you could to cover your troops, but still, the finer dirt rained down. The hiss of it was accompanied but the smell of burnt alloy, broken droids, and the freshness of the gauged earth.
“Captain?!” You called, choking on the fuel heavy air.
“All in one piece,” He responded wearily. He was feeling a little grim and tired but he was still there unharmed, as were the rest of the clones that held the line. A whole month you’d been out here. Fighting back droids in an endless barrage, constant casualties as men dropped around you, something you took personally.
Too many nights had been spent holding a dying man’s hand, trying to ease his passing and take away the pain of his wounds. You knew the name of every single one, taking a piece of their armour for their brothers, because that was all you were allowed. Your ship wasn’t built to carry home dead troopers, only the ones still breathing.
“Incoming!” A trooper’s yell alerted you to act. It was instinctive, reaching out with the force, directing the missile off to the side of your positions, and exploding in a shower of wood and earth. The trees groaned, crashing to the ground and taking out some advancing clankers under the thick trunks; starting a chain reaction of more explosions that beat the air around you.
“ETA on our reinforcements?” You had requested help, a few extra platoons would tip the scales in your favour and you hoped they were arriving in the next few minutes. You hefted your DC-17m and began to shoot some droids, the repeat blasts kicking back into your armour as you swept some bolts along the Separatist front line, picking your targets through the trees and hitting the mark every time.
Captain Wilco was shooting beside you, his helmet nodded and you knew he was talking on the internal com. It was frustrating that as a Jedi you didn’t have a helmet and only a com on your wrist. That was no good while you were shooting.
“ETA 2 minutes, General,” he relayed steadily.
“Do we know how many?” He hesitated at the question and you felt his faint emotion change through the force.
“Make me happy, Captain,” You ordered as you took out another B1 droid.
“Just a single Commando Squad…”
“Beexes! Heading straight for your position, General!” The warning came through the comlink this time and you lowered your blaster, hiding behind a wide tree trunk as Wilco slammed in beside you, blasters upright and pointing at the sky as he took a second to breathe. The swift thunk of bolts sounded loud, shedding some splinters of wood near your shoulder. You hated these droids.
“Hold this,” You said, holding out the deecee.
“Is it time to show off?” He asked, twirling his blasters and shoving them in their holsters before taking your blaster.
“Yeah, it’s time to show off.” Drawing your twin blades free was always an exhilarating moment. The yellow-green cast of the plasma was a beacon to your troops. When the lights were lit, it meant their General was getting personal with the clankers.
You could feel the fresh prick of adrenaline, spinning away from your cover and stabbing the first droid under the chin. The alloy melted, no match against your lightsaber and your nose wrinkled at this smell of ruined circuits.
Shedding the dead weight you bounced some bolts away, noticing three more heading straight for you. Three. You were tired, your shoulder ached and your entire body was being pushed to its limit but you soldiered on. Wilco fired from the cover you provided but they barely slowed the droids down.
Any second…any second. You could sense them, the squad that had been sent to help hold your position and now you knew why they had only sent one. At first, you’d expected Omega, maybe even Delta if they were ordered hard enough…no. They’d sent the squad you would take above all others.
You flowed through the motions, relying on the force to tell you what was headed your way a few seconds before it actually happened. A bolt aimed at your shoulder penetrating your armour, another coming to pierce your side. Your blades swung, reflecting the bolts away not having the time to direct them. The droids crossed paths, their legs easily picking over the uneven terrain as they jogged. Bringing your blades in an X, you clashed them together before wrenching them apart and pushing with the force.
To your annoyance they contorted, refusing to fall over and you felt a flash of anger. Spinning around you concentrated, letting go of your left saber to guide it in an arc slicing off the head of a droid.
Two down, two to go.
Now they were upon you, one constantly on the move as it shot at you while the other pulled a vibrosword from literally nowhere. Going toe to toe with a BX droid was not on your to-do list today, let alone four of them. It met you swing for swing, with the added distraction of the other one shooting at you, this really wasn’t a fair fight.
An explosion that made the earth roll beneath your feet caught you completely off-guard, and you stumbled. The tremor rocked through your body, jolting your sabers from your grip and the droid saw its chance. It lunged to grab you by the throat, lifting you as you clawed at the metal arm that had you in a vice-like grip.
“General!” You closed your eyes at the sound of Wilco’s desperate yell.
No, please no! Your mind was frantic and you did the only thing you could think of. Throwing your hand out, you pushed Wilco back. You didn’t need him coming to your recuse and getting himself killed. He was swept off his feet, landing heavily on his back. Your legs were kicking, trying not to succumb to the panic, but you couldn’t stop it. You weren’t a born soldier, all your years at the temple could not have prepared you for this side of war. You were a peacekeeper. That’s what they’d told you anyway.
You began to gasp, reaching into the force to try and find the strength to ease this droid’s grip but your concentration was slipping. Your body was failing and so was your mind as your lungs burned for some air.
“Oh, no you don’t.” Light flared across your blurred vision, the sound of your lightsaber cut through the fog in your mind and you felt yourself fall to the ground. Dragging the tainted air into your lungs you were finally able to take a breath. Hands grabbed you, hauling you to some cover and you were able to see who your saviour was.
Captain Wilco was shooting with your repeat blaster around the side of the tree, his shots sporadic to indicate fewer targets were in his line of sight. It was the other soldier that interested you right now, his black and red helmet thrown into stark relief in the light of your saber.
The light side of his helmet was a complete dichotomy to the dark tattoo that marked the same side of his face. He now cocked it as he peered at you from behind the wide visor. “You’ll be needing these.” He remarked, retracting the blade before depositing them firmly in your grip. Hunter yanked his knife free of his vambrace, staying in a crouched position, and peered around the tree. “Crosshair...” you heard him murmur through his vocoder and you knew he was talking via the comlink.
“The clankers are regrouping.” You smiled at the bite in the sniper’s voice. You couldn’t see him but you could feel him high up the side of the hill, his presence was always loud to you through the force. Even across the distance that had been between you the last five months, you’d always been able to reach out to him.
“Are you all right, General?” Wilco had that smooth tone to his voice, the one that told you he had shut down all his feelings and was reacting purely on instinct right now. This man was going through the motions.
“Fine. I’ll be sporting a new collar of bruises though. Now I know what Captain Rex was moaning about.”
“Orders?” Crosshair’s voice slithered through the com channel and Hunter turned to look at you as he waited.
“This is your party, Sarge. Go, do what you do.”
“You heard the General, boys. Let’s finish this.” Hunter melted away, prompting you to get up.
“Captain,” Wilco was by your side, letting you lean on him as your legs shook. “Let’s watch the show.”
“Not a single clanker left,” Wrecker announced loudly as they walked through the carnage to your position. Your robes were singed, and the armour you wore over the top was carbon scoured and would need a good clean. Your throat was still sore every time you swallowed but you wouldn’t let the medics near you. There were far worse injuries littering the field.
“I’m glad you boys decided to make it.”
“Sorry,” Hunter replied, pulling his helmet off and giving you a cocky smile. “Had to stop and ask some clankers for directions.”
“And there I was thinking we were making enough noise.” As you spoke your gaze drifted over the Sergeant’s shoulder to fix on the figure that was striding to join his squad. He was tall, his long legs picking their way easily over the droid shrapnel; the firepuncher pointing at the ground but held in a way you knew it could lift and take out a droid in less than a second.
“Your position was easy enough to triangulate. Plus, we sourced the coordinates directly from your ship when we answered the call.” Tech had his nose in his datapad, no doubt keeping an eye on the com chatter so he was alerted to any change in the GAR.
“What’s next?” Hunter asked.
“General.” You turned to face Wilco, he was holding a holodisk in his hand, depicting an image of your Admiral who was currently in orbit over the planet you stood on.
“Orders from Coruscant?” You queried and he nodded.
“We have been told to return immediately. The Fearless is coming to relieve us.”
“We do all the hard graft and then someone else sweeps in and just holds it for us.” Shaking your head you tried not to be tempted by the anger that loomed. You knew why they did it, you created results. The 71st made waves, they got things done and you all were a formidable force against the droids. “Say, you boys fancy some RnR? It’s been a while since we caught up.” You could feel Crosshair scrutinising you from under his helmet, you felt the jolt that your suggestion gave him except it wasn’t his decision.
Hunter cast his eye over the squad but it was Wrecker that answered. “Aw, yeah! Been a while since we had some decent food.”
“Plenty of that up top. What do you say?” Your offer hung in the air for a moment as they all exchanged glances with Hunter.
“Yeah, why not,” Hunter said slowly.
“Saves on fuel,” added Tech.
“Captain, contact the ship and let them know Clone Force 99 is going to dock with us. They’re going to need supplies and fuel if we can spare it.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He turned away to the sound of the lartys as they landed.
“I need to accompany the wounded. See you on the flight deck.” Hunter gave you a salute, briefly touching his bandana and flicking his fingers away, but your gaze was settled on the sniper. He backed away, his attention clearly on you and it took all your concentration not to physically reach out to him.
So you used the force instead, stretching over the few metres that separated you, frustrated that he was so close and still so far away. A frown tugged on your brow when you felt he was…angry. It created heated spots in the force around him and he suddenly turned away, spinning abruptly and stalking after his squad mates.
Walking in the opposite direction you distracted yourself as you did after every battle, by concentrating on your clones.
You hated the aftermath. The way their adrenaline trickled away just left exhaustion and pain. The air in the gunship reeked of blood, dirt, sweat, and men. You were used to it, aware that you didn’t smell any better yourself. The whole battalion had been planetside for five days this round and they deserved a well-earned rest.
“Jumper…” you crouched beside a clone who was slumped in a brother's lap, barely able to hold his head up. There was a mark on his white chest plate, the red cross of no treatment, and tears sprang to your eyes.
“General,” He wheezed.
“Hang on soldier, we’re going home.” You took his hand and concentrated. Nothing you could do would stop the inevitable, all that was left was to ease his pain. “You fought bravely today,” you murmured. He sighed loudly and you hitched up a smile. “The meds working?”
“Yeah. Thanks, General…” You had no idea if he knew what you’d done or not. By the time you’d stood up and moved to the next soldier, he had taken his last breath.
You waited on the flight deck, supervising all the wounded being taken, giving a comforting word to the exhausted ones left behind. You were hurting, trying to keep your brave mask on until you could fall apart in your quarters. Attachment rules be damned, how could you not feel the ache with each life that was lost? When you personally felt their passing through the force and the void they left behind?
“Ship docking!” The Marauder glided effortlessly onto the flight deck, turning so tightly, it made some of the troopers watching hold their breaths but you’d seen Tech pilot this beauty before.
“Get a fuel line ready,” you ordered a clone and he jumped up to carry out the task.
The squad disembarked, casting uneasy glances around the matching faces that openly stared at them. You knew if any other Jedi had asked they would have refused the hospitality.
“Jet’ika! There she is!” Wrecker wasn’t one for protocol and acting appropriately and you didn’t care, letting the large clone pull you off the ground and into a bear hug that you so desperately needed.
“Wrecker, the regs are watching,” Tech murmured.
“What do I care?” He replied loudly and you grimaced as it echoed over the deck. “Wha’ you looking at?” He demanded from the nearest group.
“You’re embarrassing yourself, Wrecker.” Crosshair shoved past, his golden gaze avoiding yours. Something was up with him, maybe he was just pent up with frustration at not being able to greet you like Wrecker had. You wished he could, your entire body ached to be touched by him.
Five months was a long time.
“You boys hungry?” You asked when Wrecker finally put you down.
“I can guarantee one of us is,” Tech sighed as the big clone proclaimed he was starving again.
“No food fights this time,” You told Hunter, raising an eyebrow. “I had to do a lot of smooth-talking with the Admiral and Captain Wilco last time, not to mention the clean-up droid.”
“They’ll behave this time,” the Sergeant told you in a firm voice.
“Actually, I behaved last time,” Tech stated with a small frown on his face as they all followed you into the turbo lift.
“Only because you weren’t there,” Crosshair pointed out with an annoyed motion, pulling his toothpick out and flicking it at his brother.
Tech shrugged and barely flinched when the small stick bounced off his armour. “A minor detail.”
The doors opened and they stepped out, turning as one to face you. “Go relax, I need to get freshen up and then I’ll come and join you.” Hunter gave you a small nod of acknowledgement, Wrecker beamed, Tech gave you an absent wave and Crosshair didn’t even look at you. The door began to slide closed. Every fibre of your being wished Cross would look at you, so when his blazing, amber gaze finally locked with yours it felt like you’d been stunned, your breath stolen along with all the thoughts in your mind.
Five months was too long.
You went through the motions, raking your fingers through your hair and cleaning the grime of battle from your skin. Dirt and blood swilled away in the stream of water before the timer ran out and you sighed in the quiet space. It was never long enough but you understood the water had to be spread between an entire ship and everyone got the same amount of time in the shower.
You towelled yourself down and then wrapped up your body before stepping into your quarters. You had been so absorbed in what you were doing you didn’t expect someone to be standing by the door, leaning against the wall and you automatically threw your hands up.
“Jumpy,” He sneered.
“Well no one should be in here,” you snapped, still ashamed he’d managed to sneak up on you. Crosshair pushed away from the wall, uncrossing his arms to brush his fingertips against your grubby armour plates. You became acutely aware of how underdressed you were, clutching the towel tightly to your chest.
“You were reckless today.” With his words came a ripple of frustration, prickling at your senses and making you bristle in return.
“Isn’t that what we do on the battlefield?” Your answer made him scoff, dropping the armour with a clatter and looking up at the wall.
“You are not invincible,” he spoke with a sharp tone and his eyes held something hard and disclosed.
“I never said I was!” You gasped when he advanced on you, jabbing a finger into your bare shoulder, making you step back.
“I saw what you did!” He seethed in his icy voice. “For that…reg.” Drawing yourself up with as much dignity as you could muster while naked and only wrapped in a towel, you fixed a heavy glare on him.
“Captain Wilco is a fine soldier and I will not have you talk badly about any of my troopers.”
Crosshair straightened, crossing his arms as he regarded you with a displeased look on his face but that just wound you up more.
“Okay, you know what, Cross? I don’t have to listen to this. I have been down there for the past month watching men, your brothers, drop dead around me as they follow my orders.”
“They are not my brothers,” He spat, his gaze drifting away as though bored with the conversation. You sputtered angrily, the happy image of your long-awaited reunion was being replaced by this—anger and jealousy.
“No. You’ve never lost a brother, have you Crosshair?” Your voice had that hard edge you usually reserved for the Seps and you felt the briefest flash of doubt as it flickered through him before he squashed it.
“You are not one of them. No matter how hard you try.”
You laughed at his harsh statement but it held no joy.
“No? I may not have been pulled from a tank but I have no parents, I was holding a weapon that I knew how to use by the time I was 4 years old. I have seen as much, if not more death than your squad put together. Do you sense the moment a trooper passes? Do you feel it when they just…cease to be?”
His gaze flicked to your face, his eyes softening slightly when he saw the tears that sparkled in your eyes.
“I am not a clone, but they are a little pocket of family that I never had.” Turning away you grabbed your spare set of robes. “Now get out. That’s an order.”
The surge of anger from him was like a whip, making you flinch as he slammed a hand into the panel and shoved his way through the door before it had even fully opened. Your insides quivered as you tried to contain it all, but your shell was cracking, allowing the emotion of the last few weeks to finally show and you covered your face with shaking hands.
If only this wasn’t so hard.
“…and then, I picked him up by his neck.”
“What did Rex do?” Your eyes were wide as you nursed a cup of caf at the table with three members of the Bad Batch. Hunter was eyeing anyone that came too close, he was on edge here and you didn’t blame him. Your troops eyed them just as suspiciously. Tech was splicing some data he’d acquired from the Seps, you weren’t entirely sure and you didn’t have it in you to ask this time. Wrecker was doing a great job of distracting you from dwelling on the fact Crosshair wasn’t here. You could sense Hunter’s focus on you every now and again but you ignored it.
“The Cap couldn’t do much, but Crosshair took on that medic.”
“Kix?” You nudged Tech’s arm. “What did you do?”
“I asked Wrecker to put Jesse down. He didn’t listen.”
“Then I ruined all their fun,” Hunter said. “We can't afford to quarrel amongst ourselves. Crosshair needs that reminder more than most at the moment.”
“Where is he?” Tech looked up from his datapad. “Have you seen him?”
It was such a direct question and for a moment you panicked over what to say before shaking your head.
“He’s probably back at the ship.” Hunter pushed away his tray and went to stand up. Tech instantly followed but Wrecker moaned.
“Is it time to go already?”
“Not quite yet,” Hunter reassured him. “The General here is letting us go before they reach triple zero.”
Tech pushed his goggles up his nose as he looked at his brother. “I need to do some maintenance on the ship before we leave and I could us your assistance, Wrecker.”
“Take food with you,” You told the larger clone, pushing your own untouched tray in his direction.
“Bonus! Thanks, Jet’ika.” You grinned at the nickname. Wrecker had donned you with it the first time he saw you a couple of years ago. He followed Tech out of the food area, chomping happily on the extra food but your attention drifted to Hunter who paused.
“If you see him,” You said in a low voice.
“I’ll tell him.” This time you returned the salute and watched them all leave before making a move yourself.
You visited the medbay, checked on the injured clones, and had a chat with them as your ship sped through hyperspace. Keeping their spirits high was easier because they were heading for some leave. They certainly deserved it. Wandering the almost empty halls you debated heading to the bridge. Casting your senses you tried to get a feel for your ship. It lived and breathed like a living creature, the sheer amount of people in this flying city made it so. But one signature stood out. And he was back in your room.
You followed a familiar path, sensing his inner turmoil even as he slept, drawn towards it like a moth to a flame.
The first time you and Cross had given in, it gave you a thrill. Smoothing out the frustrated ripples in such a clone gave you a deluded sense of power. Not that you had any control over him, that wasn’t what you sought out, it was being needed by someone in a way you’d never been needed before.
You had life experience, more than most of your troops put together but it wasn’t something that was encouraged within the temple. You had seen, felt, and witnessed things that blew your mind. Love, you assumed, was a feeling reserved for civvies, not for Jedi. Compassion, a sense of caring was encouraged but love, raw passion. That was shut down.
And then you met Crosshair.
You had sensed his interest, the curiosity had been hard to ignore and he intrigued you just as much. It had taken you spending months with the Batch on a covert mission for the stoic clone to finally give in. And when it did, it opened your eyes to a feeling that encompassed you both completely. An all-consuming fire that burned whenever you were together.
Except this time. Because you had risked your life to save that of your Captain.
The door opened quietly and you slipped into the dark room. His armour was stacked up at the end of your bed and his breathing was even and steady telling you he was asleep. Crosshair was pressed up against the wall, a pillow of yours held close to his body and you felt a pang of guilt that you had spoken to him in such a way earlier. Sitting on the edge of the bed you sighed, plucking at your Jedi robes.
“This was not how I imagined my day going,” You whispered. This was a cheap move and you knew it, but if you told him now then maybe it would be easier to repeat when he was actually awake. “I’m breaking all the rules,” You confessed into the dark. “I feel like when I’m not with you I’m losing myself but when I am with you…I am not who I should be.” Biting your lower lip you stood up. “I love you, Crosshair. I’m aware I shouldn’t, I know that…but I can’t stop.” Glancing over your shoulder you saw he hadn’t moved, still curled around the pillow that smelled like you with his legs tucked up. “I hope I’m brave enough to say it to you when you’re awake.”
You debated going to find somewhere else to sleep, yet you knew this was the last time you’d probably see him for months and you couldn’t bring yourself to leave. Shedding your robes you carefully slipped in beside him and stared at the ceiling. He shifted and you froze. Crosshair uncoiled, rolling over to face you with the tiniest sigh.
“Look at me.” His was soft, whispering over your skin like the lightest of touches.
You obeyed, turning your face to catch his expression in the lights of hyperspace from the viewport in your room.
“Cross…” You stopped when he put a finger across your lips.
“It’s my turn.”
Your heart was pounding, you hadn’t paid attention to if he’d been awake or not, just assuming he was sleeping because of how even his breathing was. At least he was still here.
Crosshair’s eyes traced the way his finger trailed over your lips, rolling your bottom lip a little and your body responded instantly. He had so much to say, it crowded all inside him but he was never good at expressing how he felt with words and you saw his brow furrow. His fingers ghosted over your cheek, hooking around the curve of your neck and he dared to bring you closer. Your hand shot up to cover his, desperate to be close, to feel him everywhere at once.
Your eyes fluttered when his nose brushed yours, lips parting in a minute gasp when his breath pillowed against your cheeks. Maker help you, but you wanted him. You needed him right now and it coursed through you like the light of a supernova.
His lips were tentative, touches light as he gauged how you were responding to his hesitant advance. Both your mouths were open, neither of you wanting to break the delicate string that held you both suspended on this fine ledge. Anticipation swirled in your chest, it made each breath ache and your limbs tremble as the moment built to an almost perceptible hum in the force.
Your fingers tightened over his, giving him the permission he needed to close that gap between you both and sealing his mouth over yours.
The fall was glorious. Throwing you headlong into the taste of him as he crowded you against the bed. His body half covered you, pressing against your leg and letting you know he was there. A soft moan tumbled from your throat, succumbing to the sensations you had denied yourself for so long.
His mouth never stopped, burying his tongue deep into you and he manoeuvred over you completely, his arms on either side of your head as he swept his hands the sides of your face. Bringing your legs up he settled heavily between them, his body responding to the heat of yours as he rutted gently into you.
Your hips flexed, the friction against your clothed core was enough to make you moan again when you felt how hard he was through his blacks. His mouth left yours to trail wet kisses and nips along your jaw, making you arch into him, exposing your neck. He swept his tongue along your pulse point, pausing to lavish some attention on that place that made you shiver.
Your hands roamed up his muscular back, scraping your nails over the crop of short grey hairs, making him groan into your neck. You felt his lips draw back, the feel of his teeth pressing into your skin made you tense, only to surrender yourself to him completely.
He pulled down your vest top, letting out a warm breath that danced over your clavicle, making goosebumps erupt all over your body. He felt so good in your arms, his weight a comfort you realised you had missed as he slipped down. His hands were urgent, now rucking up your top to expose your heaving chest to him and he wasted no time in taking a nipple into his hot mouth.
Crosshair took his time, making sure you were writhing beneath him, whimpering with need before he moved on to the next part of your body. You pulled your own top off, glancing down to see him watching you with those eyes that almost glowed with the fire that burned within him.
His long fingers curled over the waistband of your pants, exposing your hip which he gently kissed, his gaze drawn to the way your stomach contracted at the teasing contact. Crosshair always noticed everything about your body, the way you moved, how you reacted in a certain way, and he used that to figure out your weaknesses. Of course, you’d never admit he was your ultimate weakness, all he had to do was look at you.
He moved over to repeat the motion on your other hip, tugging your pants down to expose you completely, finally rearing up to detangle you from your clothes. You hooked your legs around his slim waist and ran his hands along the line of your thighs, curling you up as he leaned forward to give you a kiss that had you gasping for air.
You knew what was coming next, Crosshair hardly ever deviated, wanting to get the most out of your encounter every time because neither of you knew when it was going to happen again.
His touch was slow but firm, dipping between your bodies as he leaned over you, supporting himself on one hand, his eyes watching your face when he gifted you with a teasing touch along your slit.
You heard the deep growl in his chest and his eyes closed. Long fingers deftly parted your lips and he brushed against your clit making your hips buck into his hand. When he pushed a finger into you it made your back leave the mattress. Your cunt fluttered around his touch, grasping desperately as he added another finger. He buried them deeply, pushing up and into you with a moan, his shoulders flexing from the motion and you leaned back against the pillow.
Your hands held onto him, legs quivering as he tortured you by drawing his fingers out of your wetness, making sure he was completely coated before shoving back into you, ripping a blissful cry from your chest.
He set a steady pace, dragging his fingers against the clenching walls of your sex, his need to feel every inch of you was something you were used to but never prepared for. Cross stroked that tender spot inside you, his fingertips winding up the coil in your lower belly that would have you eventually melting into the mattress.
His eyes intently watched your expression, his lips parted when he felt you shake around him, he knew you were close, he could feel it. And he pushed you over the edge. His breathing became ragged as you fell apart, his fingers not letting up, carrying you through the pleasure. Finally relenting when you hooked a hand around his tense neck and passionately kissed him.
Crosshair planted a hand on your shoulder, pushing you back onto the bed as he moved further back. His eyes devoured you, fingers sweeping up your inner thighs to collect the wetness that had leaked onto your skin. You watched, your body still thrumming with bliss as he put his fingers into his mouth, lifting his predatory gaze to lock with yours.
“You’re as sticky as uj’ayl,” He murmured.
“Cross…” you whimpered.
“Patience, nar cyar’ika.” His lips connected with your inner thigh, once more dragging his teeth against the softness of your skin, enjoying the way you gasped, hips undulating in a shamelessly desperate motion. He directed his attention to your core, using the flat of his tongue, slowly, teasingly, swirling around your clit.
You felt his fingers there once again, exposing you to his warm breath as he sighed. His mouth covered your entrance and you curled your fists in the covers. His tongue delved deeply, tasting you with a satisfied hum that vibrated up your spine, making you tremble.
Crosshair let you use him, grinding your hips against his face as you moaned desperately. One hand travelled up your body, pressing along your stomach to settle between your breasts, fingers spread so he could feel the throb of your heart as it beat in your chest.
It was gathering again, liquid fire searing through your veins and creating a reaction you had no control over. Your legs came up either side of his head, trying not to crush him so you settled your feet on his back. Your fingers slipped through the short, tough strands of his hair as your whole body flexed.
Your cries filled the room, a hand clenching in the pillow behind your head and your back arched wildly. Still, Crosshair persisted, his tongue stroking you into a blaze that only he could handle. His hips pressed into the mattress, his cock needy and aching to be buried inside you, but he could wait.
He groaned when you flooded his mouth, licking up every drop as your pleasure stole every basic function from your body. Each muscle contorted, holding you in a suspended state as the seal broke on the flames that licked across your sweaty skin.
Eventually, he released you, letting you flop bonelessly among the sheets. You protested weakly when he kneeled between your legs, only to shed his blacks before falling back into your arms.
He kissed you fervently, licking as deeply into your mouth as he had your cunt. He wasted no time in lining himself with your weeping entrance, his cock twitching in anticipation, dragging along the seam between your thighs and notching right where you wanted him the most.
Your hands slid down his back, following the lines of his tense muscles to hook in the plushness of his backside. You left him in no doubt of your intentions, not breaking a motion in the kiss as you widened your hips and used your arms to pull him forcefully into you.
He gasped when you clenched around him, seating himself to the hilt in your slick as his face rested on top of yours. His breath was strained and lust laden, his tongue coming out to lick at your lips making you whine as you did the same.
Crosshair filled you, creating a pressure inside you that was unrivalled, and it made your body quiver. Your grip on him relaxed when he began to move, pulling free until only the pulsing head of his cock was nestled comfortably inside you.
The snap of his hips was loud and you cried out together, breaking apart his resolve. There was urgency in his movements, a neediness that transcended words as he worked you both to the point of no return.
It didn’t take him long, already working himself into a state of desperation that he was finally feeding as he rutted into you. “I want to watch you,” He snarled into your lips, pushing up from the bed to kneel again. He lifted one of your legs, holding it up against his flushed chest, and worked his hips, hitting that spot that made your eyes roll. He planted a kiss on your ankle, his ferocious gaze magnetised to yours.
Your body was rung out and taut at the same. Your throat hurt, torn from the cries he pushed from you with each thrust. You knew you were going to ache all over for the next few days but it would have been worth it. Crosshair’s fingers imprinted on your skin, the sweat of his body dripped with yours creating a heady cocktail that sent your senses soaring. He was everywhere, suffocating you in the most desirable way as he began to lead you to the precipice once more.
His thrusts became sloppy, his cock pulsed inside you, eyelids fluttering as he tried to keep his attention on your face. A faint roar sounded in your ears as your blood flushed. Lightning shattered under your skin, electrifying your body to the point where you became hyper-aware of every nerve ending.
Crosshair bared his teeth, sweat beaded on his temple and he picked up the pace to bring you both drastically to a catastrophic end. His spine curled toward you when he came, his form juddering as he growled, pushing his hips into you and exploding deep in your cunt.
You were incoherent, only able to scream his name from the pressure, your nails dragging along the firmness of his sides. Your vision faded out, your heart was fit to burst with every slight thrust that sent intense shockwaves through your body.
He released your leg, letting it flop down and he fell on your lips once more, heaving in your scent and coming down from his high. His arms slid under you, gathering you into his embrace as you both listened to the knock of each other's hearts.
You lay entangled together, your face tucked against his chest and he rested his chin on the top of your head. Your fingers were tracing lazy patterns on his cooling skin, trying not to dwell on the fact he was leaving soon.
“Did you mean it?”
You froze at the question, suddenly remembering what had started this whole encounter.
“Mean what?” You focussed on the way his throat tensed, frustration coming through the turbulent calm because you were forcing him to explain.
“What you said.”
“I thought you were asleep.”
He sighed.
“I’m not anymore.” His voice was quiet, almost hesitant and you risked leaning back to look into his face. His gaze roamed openly over your features, almost as though he was committing you to his memory and so you did the same.
Using your fingertips you followed the cut of his jaw, feeling the stubble that was starting to shadow his face. You brushed a thumb over the darkness of his tattoo, knowing what resided behind such a mark. It didn’t matter how many times this man tried to push you away, or how strongly he believed he wasn’t good enough for you, nothing could stop you from wanting him.
“Yes, I meant it.” There was a wave of warmth, tinged with surprise, he hadn’t expected you to admit outright. “I don’t care about the consequences,” You whispered.
“You might.”
You shook your head, fingertips delicately tracing the curve of his ear.
“Not when it comes to you.”
His arms tensed, pulling you back into his chest and you curled willingly against him, closing your eyes and letting yourself relax. He hadn’t said the words, he didn’t need to. You could sense that he loved you too. He wanted to voice them, you could sense that as well, but he knew the ramifications of what such a declaration meant.
And he was willing to protect you for as long as he had to.
may i please request bondage smut with crosshair?
Of course you can 👀 I hope you like this 🙏
Celebration
Summary: It's late in the evening and Crosshair comes home to see you after another successful mission. And Crosshair only celebrate in one way.
Warnings: Smut, Bondage, Oral sex, Unprotected Sex, Rough Sex, a little bit of fluff.
"Take off your clothes."
Biting down on your lip, you started undressing for him, piece by piece of your clothing falling to the floor until you stood naked before him. Crosshair's eyes roamed your body, and you couldn't help the heat spreading across your face. No matter how often he had seen you naked, he always made you feel like it was the first time.
"Lay down on the bed," he ordered, his voice heavy with lust.
Obeying his order, you made yourself comfortable on the bed. You watched with bated breaths as he opened the nightstand, took out the silk ribbon hidden there and bound your hands together above your head. Your heart pounded in your chest as Crosshair smirked up at you as he placed himself between your legs. Then, you gasped, feeling the pad of his fingers between your thighs, probing your folds apart.
Crosshair took two fingers, spreading your pussy lips open, eyes darkening at the sight of your slick folds.
"Kriff, your pussy is perfect," you heard him mumble and moaned when you felt his tongue flick across your clit.
Crosshair sucked your clit hard between his lips before he slid his tongue down between your butt cheeks and back up, lapping up every drop of your juices along the way. You moaned, face flushed with arousal and embarrassment at how absolutely filthy he was.
"You taste so good," Crosshair breathed and lowered his head again, immediately pushing his tongue inside your pussy as he buried his face between your legs. Moaning, you bucked your hips against his face as you watched him between your thighs.
Crosshair massaged each side of your clit with his tongue, before sucking it hard between his lips and pushing his fingers deeper inside of you. Your pussy was so soaked, there was zero resistance and you eagerly swallowed his fingers. Crosshair pounded them deep and hard inside of you, pushing on your G-spot. Your hips lifted off the bed on their own, as you ground your pussy hard against his face. You felt your orgasm building, getting stronger and stronger.
"You're gonna make me come...," you gasped. "Please don't stop."
Crosshair growled against your pussy after hearing you, and while never letting his lips lose grip on your clit, he started finger fucking you as hard as he could. Each thrust sent a jolt through your body, causing your thighs to quiver and your core to clench.
"Oh maker, I'm gonna come!"
You felt the heat rise inside you, your breathing heavy and fast as you tugged on the restraints, yearning to grab and hold his head in place. You felt your body tense up, and before you knew it, you were completely lost.
"I'm coming!" You felt your entire body shake as you completely drenched his hand and face. Crosshair didn't stop until he felt your body go limp. Swiftly, he removed his fingers and replaced them with his cock. Your eyes flew open in surprise, both at the sudden intrusion and that he'd managed to open his pants so quickly. Crosshair looked down at you with a stern face, his jaw clenching as he grabbed your ankles and spread your legs wide as he started pounding into you.
"Fuck!" you cried out, earning a small smirk from the clone. He was relentless, showing the strength of his stamina as he kept thrusting into you at a rapid pace.
"Are you going to come for me again?" he rasped through his thrusts.
"Y-Yes," you gasped out between moans, arching your back as pleasure rose in your core and you tugged on your restraints once more.
"Then come for me, darling. Come now."
His words combined with the deep and hard thrusts of his cock were enough for you to spiral over the edge. You cried out, your legs started shaking in his grip, your hips rising against him as your pussy tightened and spasmed around his cock.
Crosshair grunted at the feeling of your clenching pussy and he came, thrusting into you as he filled you up with his seed.
Crosshair watched with pride as an exhausted and satisfied smile spread across your lips. To think that he, of all people, could make you feel so good. As he slipped out of you, he tucked himself back inside his pants and untied your wrist.
"You okay?" he asked, watching your face as you lay there with closed eyes.
"Mmhhmm," you mumbled tiredly. Opening your eyes, you smiled and reached out your hand to him. "Please, stay with me tonight."
Clenching his jaw, Crosshair seemed to discuss with himself what to do before he finally started taking off his armor. What was the harm in staying here with you for one night?
Dressed in only his underwear, you watched as Crosshair crawled into the bed with you and smiled as you snuggled up against his chest.
Crosshair tensed as you wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed your body against his. He looked down at you, watching the content expression on your face as you closed your eyes and nestled closer to him, and felt himself soften. Slipping his arm around you, he placed his hand on the soft skin of your hip and allowed himself to close his eyes and relax in the warm embrace of your body.
@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.
I always imagined Cross' eyes to be sensitive and get strained sometimes and when they do he'd turn into a teddy bear or smth he'd just want to cling to you and bury his face into your shoulder to keep the light away while so needy for cuddles or hugs and his squad is just like
🕴 that our Cross?? (bc before he met reader if his eyes got strained hed be the most grumpy gremlin his brothers have ever met)
Author's Note: This is so cute!! I love the idea that Crosshair has eyes just as or close to as good as Hunter's thanks to his enhancements
Summary: Crosshair might be a loner but even he knows that sometimes tender loving care is what works best.
Relationships: Crosshair/Gn!Reader
Warnings: Mentions of sensory overload, fluffy, Crosshair being a grumpy little shit that needs cuddles,
-Hey. You busy?
Looking over at your datapad you see a message from Hunter, before glancing back at your computer. Hunter knows damn well that you're always busy, it's more so a matter of if you're too busy to sneak away and do whatever he has in mind.
Well, your work is practically done, so you'll message back in a few minutes once you're free. Because you know damn well that once you start with them, you'll be roped into whatever mess is currently happening. Before you have a chance to finish however, Hunter gives some much needed context to his earlier message. Not too much, however.
-Come here and help deal with Crosshair.
Since when did you become the resident sniper tamer?
Though Hunter knows you well enough, as even though you don't respond, you quickly finish up what you've been working on before getting up. Their barracks are a good ways across the base so it's a decent walk, enough that you can send a quick message.
-On my way.
Part of you is curious what in the galaxy could warrant such am urgent sounding message from Hunter; Though you'd probably never be able to hazard a guess. Hunter doesn't respond, largely because he knows you'll be there the moment he does. Their barracks are a good ways out of the way, but the walk isn't that far. Tech has it timed, actually; In another odd random bit of knowledge he has stored away in the brain of his.
It seems this time you were particularly speedy, as he's a few seconds shorter than usual when you arrive, the door opening. The moment you enter you can feel the tension, as everyone hovers around the center of the room. Hunter comes up to you, and you whisper:
"What happened?" Looking over to see Crosshair on his bunk, with everyone glancing his way, but attempting to be subtle about it. His hand is pressing against his eyes and forehead, hard enough that he surely can't see very well. Hunter fills you in with the only word that is necessary.
"Flashbang." Oh no.
You know Crosshair's eyes are incredibly sensitive much like Hunter's, which also makes him very sensitive to things like bright lights. The two of them are the main reason why they have the lights in all their barracks, and the Marauder, dimmed so low.
Tech is hovering close by, the closest that the Batch has for a medic keeping an eye on a fuming Crosshair. Wrecker comes closer to check and gets venom spit at him, before he presses his hand back onto his face.
While his brothers are concerned and wanting to help, hovering and asking constantly if he's ok are both things that don't work intermingled with someone like Crosshair. You know that he just wants pitch black, and silence that's just as deep as possible.
Sighing softly you step away from Hunter, walking over to his bunk. You don't say anything, just sit on the edge and gently put your hand on his shoulder. You've delt with this Crosshair before, so you have a decent idea of what helps and what doesn't.
Within a few minutes he pulls you closer to him, forcing you to lean back more until you're partly laying down. He wraps his arms around your body, as his face presses against the black of your shirt above your chest but below your shoulder; Wrecker groaning and walks by yelling:
"Hey! Keep it clean, we're still here!" Wrecker jokes, laughing loudly.
Crosshair's hand quickly darts out to get a piece of Wrecker, who deftly dodges it.
"Fuck off."
He feels your hand gently on the back of his head, fingers playing with the short hair at the nape of his neck. His arms tighten around your ribs even more. His head is throbbing so much he doesn't care how he looks, or that what his brothers are saying isn't actually insulting. He'll just act like it is, and bite at them none the less. In a bit he'll be back to normal, but for now he'll indulge.
It's hard to believe that you've actually been a positive influence on his overall attitude, until you have times like this.
"Just leave him alone, Wrecker." Echo quietly speaks up from across the room, where he's cleaning dirt from the inner seams of his armor pieces.
You kind of wish you'd brought your datapad with you in hindsight, as now that Crosshair has you trapped, you have one hand completely empty as the other lays on the back of his head. It's also a little boring, just watching his brothers go about their individual work as quiet as possible.
A few months ago Crosshair would've never even considered doing anything remotely similar to this, but thankfully his edges have been buffed just the tiniest, tiniest little fraction.
You remember a long while back Crosshair had muttered that he didn't deserve you, and while you had vehemently denied the notion, he didn't seem to take it entirely to heart. You only hope these sorts of gestures help reassure him, relaxing with him as the thumping of his headache ever so slowly goes away.
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I miss your amazing works on the Bad Batch being panty snatchers - any updated headcannons/shenanigans around this?
aaah, I haven't updated that trope/series in so long!!! Here's a few NSFW headcanons based on the Batch stealing yo panties.
I'm writing this with the idea that you, the reader, have no idea what's going on, but you're more than welcome to interpret it the opposite way!
Fem reader.
Hunter always feels guilty whenever he steals your panties. He's desperate for that extra material when he masturbates, but oh lord, the post-nut guilt hits him hard. He'll hand-wash your panties before machine washing them, ensuring that they're extra clean. And Maker forbid that a single drop of his cum ever reaches them, else he'll burn your panties and sneakily buy you a new pair.
Echo, similar to Hunter, always feels guilty about stealing your panties. He doesn't get many moments alone, let alone to masturbate, so when he does jerk off, he likes to take his time, and go all out. So, if that means acquiring a pair of your panties to sniff, then fine, he'll do it, for his own pleasure! It's a little selfish, but he always puts them in the wash the second that he's done with them.
Wrecker is often clumsy, but when it comes to committing such a sinful act, he's extra careful. Wrecker won't risk stealing your panties when you're also on the ship, just to be safe. Hell, you'll need to be far away from the ship before he even considers stealing them. But when he does, he goes to town, and the second that he nuts, he often forgets to return them. Sneaking them back into your laundry the next day is always challenging.
Tech is good at being sneaky, but he sometimes lets his confidence get the better of him. You've caught him digging through your laundry basket before, using the excuse of "I was looking for something," before scuttering off. He has one stolen pair that he keeps under his pillow, and uses them over and over until your smell has vanished. So, if your panties ever go missing for days on end, you know who has them.
Crosshair, whilst he is bold and confident, prefers to be sneaky when it comes to something like this. It's weird, isn't it? Sniffing your panties whilst jerking off, all for that extra stimulation. He doesn't often feel guilty of it, just a little... weird? Still, he'll put them back into your laundry basket when done. You can always tell when Crosshair is up to something, as he'll make you caf the next morning - his silent way of saying 'thank you.'
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