Comfort And Chamomile

strung wires [crosshair x reader]

pic credit: @starqueensthings

content: sexual tension, slight degradation/teasing, vaginal fingering, implied p in v sex, crosshairs a fucking tease, use of the nickname 'princess' once

it's crosswhore hour babes lets gooo

THIS POST CONTAINS NSFW CONTENT. IF YOU ARE NOT 18+ DNI

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You're so sick of it. So sick of him.

Stupid Crosshair with his stupid little smug smile he always has on and those doggedly piercing eyes. Eyes that always without fail have a sparkle of cheekiness in them even as he growls. That mouth and soft lips and that slick tongue of his that won’t ever shut up or give you peace for more than a few hours.

Everything about him is so damn infuriating, so damn frustrating, so. Damn. Attractive.

Crosshair is catastrophically charming, and the fool kriffing knows it. He sees right through your act; how flushed you get, your cheeks pink with embarrassed flattery barely hidden behind your hands, your frustrated huffs turning into sickeningly smitten smiles the longer you stare at him from across a room.

He's got you in a chokehold; one you can't get out of no matter how stubbornly you try to push him away and out of your brain, and you're going to tear your skull apart if you are stuck any longer.

"Can you help me out here?" you hesitantly have to ask him one day, reaching high up for a box on a storage shelf. If one of the other members of Clone Force 99 were around, you would ask for their help. Anything but to avoid this itch of a man in your head.

"Aw," Crosshair coos. He creeps up from his seat, letting his rifle lean on the cushion as he walks up to you, so casual and composed, everything you’re not in this moment. "Does the princess require my assistance?"

You automatically, instinctively scowl and let out an ugly snarl.

"Yes," you sigh while rolling your eyes. He laughs through his teeth and you glare.

“Such a shame,” He says rather smug; you frown.

"Can you just shut up and do it?" You snap.

He looks at you with a deadpan but knowing look before taking two big strides toward you, a commanding disdain radiating off of his body. You shiver, almost pleasantly; the feeling is avidly discomforting.

"A please would be polite, you know," he hisses.

Through trembling, claustrophobic breaths, you let a 'pfft' noise fall past your lips.

"Like you're ever polite," you shoot back.

Without taking his eyes off of you, sinister and stern, he takes another step toward you; his chest would press against yours if you were to move even just an inch closer. He brings an arm up, inadvertently caging you in, as he grips the box you were trying to grab with only one hand and presents it to you, practically mirroring a fine meal on a silver platter.

Not once, do your eyes separate, as you take the box from him, and he turns and walks back to his rifle, taking it and going back to his cot without another word.

***

The next time you ask for a helping hand, it ends differently.

You’re in the same position as before, pinned between him and the cold steel of the Marauder, a hand placed above you, caging you in, gripping the walls you would a sheet, and the other hand two fingers deep in your cunt. Well, that part is certainly new. Not that it's a bad addition; if anything, it frees the tension.

“Shush, would you?” He whispers harshly into the shell of your ear when you moan, slowly rocking his fingers inside of you. You whine louder, just to spite him, and clutch onto his shoulders, nails digging into his blacks; if you’re to scratch any harder, the fabric is bound to tear.

Without warning, he dives down and slots his lips with yours. Your eyebrows raise and you squeal weakly against him, but he only readjusts to keep you more still.

It's dizzying, so incredibly disorienting; he feels exactly as you thought he might, strangely soft and sentimental, but rough and harsh all the same, eyes scrunched with focus and his breath coming out in inconsistent intervals. You can feel yourself getting lost in his body, in his simple presence. But he pulls away before you're gone completely and hisses into your mouth,

“We don’t want to wake anyone else up, do we?”

Despite the criticism, he continues working you; curling his fingers into your g spot he found only moments before once, twice, three times until you gasp.

“Fuck,” You hiss, forehead pressing the crook between his shoulder and neck with a billowing rush of shame.

You can’t stop yourself; the sensible part of you wants to push away, stop yourself from indulging in such wicked pleasure from an even more wicked man, but when you feel his breath brushing against your jaw, groaning pleasantly into you all from the pleasure he’s dishing out, the pleasure he simply gives, you know you’re certainly doomed.

“C'mon. Keep taking it, girl,” Crosshair encourages you. A third finger teasingly circles the lips surrounding where he pushes into you, a warning of what's to come. "`Know you can do it."

A feather-light kiss, open-mouthed and sloppy lingers on the soft skin of your neck, and his eyelashes flutter against you as he thrusts his fingers into you another time; you sob silently into his shoulder.

Then you feel it again. That stupidly charming smirk etched onto your body forevermore.

“Keep taking it `till you’re ready for my cock.”

You whine one last time, clenching hard around his fingers and pressing your palm to your mouth; it barely stifles the noises you make, but with his own sounds escaping his mouth, you doubt anyone will make your shameful ones out in the white noise.

He's got you trapped real good.

dividers by @saradika ~ tags: @pb-jellybeans

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

-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. 😘

hellloooo luv >.< could I maybe request a crosshair/shortfem!reader where crosshair has a size difference kink and is obsessed with his small gf? <33 just the sight of you hugging him by the waist and looking up at him with your pretty little eyes as he towers over you would make him lose his mind. thinking about how he would love reminding you how small you are compared to him. he would love how easy it is for him to pick you up and lift you onto him without even trying and just manhandling you and using you anyway he wants. he would love how his big hands look holding onto your small waist (or anywhere on you for that matter), the tummy bulge he gives you, him having to take his time to fit inside of you bc of how big he is and talking you through it. “shhh cyare..you’re doing so good for me..almost there..”. you’re his little princess and he absolutely adores and loves to praise you for how well you take him while he uses you as his own personal cumdump until you’re cock dumb and ruined by him. I need to be manhandled by him in the most disgusting, loving, and sweetest way possible.

Author's Note: This request made me bonk around the room like a fire extinguisher that's been shot

Summary: Crosshair has always noticed how much more delicate you were than him. But when one night he actually, really notices; He can't stop the way he wants you.

Relationships: Crosshair/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Reader is 'short coded' but everything else is pretty ambiguous as usual, Creampies, my badboy Crosshair with Goodgirl Reader cliché obsession because my mind cannot know peace, Size Kink, Unprotected sex,

Crosshair doesn't normally use the word 'cute'.

Not much in his life warrants the adjective; and the few things that do, he normally has less than a stellar disposition towards. He almost always says it with venom, meant to insult whatever or whoever it is rather than compliment.

You are a noted exception however, as Crosshair has yet to find an adjective that fits you quite as well as 'cute' does.

His brothers can't even help but agree, as no matter how many times he bites at them to back off with it, they always ruffle your hair or joke about how short you are. He doesn't mind in actuality, they are just being brotherly, but sometimes Crosshair isn't a fan of others pointing out things that only he should be noticing.

Even not that long ago when you'd boarded the Marauder, Wrecker had made yet another comment at how small you were, with a pitch in his voice and an arm around your shoulders. He only stopped when he could feel Crosshair's eyes burning holes into him, but you just waved him off.

Right now his arm is light around your shoulders, as the thumping of club music hums in your ears. The dive bar reeks of greasy food and hard liquor, but you don't mind the change in pace. The weather has been awful lately and with your life busy, coming out and enjoying time in public has been a welcome change. Whether or not you're used to this sort of scene.

Crosshair seems less so, as he looks around the bar seeing the other groups of clones spattered across the scenery. They're all minding their own business, drinking for many of the same reasons you're all out tonight.

"That would involve actually having to try, Wrecker."

You smile and laugh at the largest brother across the table, right shoulder brushing against his ribcage. He has to look down in order to watch your face, as you stay firmly tucked against his side. He hasn't the slightest idea what you're talking about at this point, so he doesn't bother joining the conversation and risk making a fool out of himself.

Wrecker responds, but it doesn't give Crosshair any context as to what the two of you are jokingly fighting about. He's too busy watching the way your head tilts slightly towards him and leans against his body for just a moment.

"Oh, bold words coming from the short stack!" You roll your eyes at Wrecker, one of your hands fiddling with the various scuffs and dents on the Crosshair's thigh armor. He can't feel it other than the light pressure, though sometimes you move enough so that you brush against the black flightsuit between the seams; And that, he can feel.

Wrecker isn't wrong in his comment- you're significantly shorter than all of them, not just him. It's a fact that often lingers in Crosshair's mind, and in a way that nearly always appealing. You always tuck perfectly against his side, a perfect little piece of peace.

It's more than a bit distracting to him, who's found himself more interested in watching your small hands wrap around your glass, more so than his own drink. Everyone's been getting sloshed tonight, but Crosshair's no longer interested in the scene.

He's much more interested in you; As you look down to see his hand fiddling with the soft fabric of your dress.

As he leans in his hot breath fans over the shell of your ear, his lips just barely grazing your skin. He's had one or two drinks, as have you, but no where near enough to get more than the tiniest buzz.

"Let's go."

You can't disagree with him. Hunter is too sloshed to really notice the way the air around you two has been getting hotter and hotter for an hour now, and that Crosshair's hand has been steadily climbing up your thigh. You don't open your legs to let him in, but you still feel the weight of his fingers as you suddenly raise your head to speak up.

"Hey, guys- I think I'm gonna head out for tonight."

Wrecker whines, and Tech bemoans the idea of the two least drunk of everyone besides himself leaving. He was hoping not to be relegated to chauffeur as he is almost every time the Batch goes out, not that he would even drink if he wasn't.

"It's been fun but, I'm getting pretty tired. I'll see you guys later." When Crosshair gets up with you and Tech glances between the two of you confused, you quickly speak up. His hand is on the small of your back, tense with the silent plea of 'hurry it up'.

"Cross is gonna take me home. I'll send him back in one piece, don't worry." It's not as if they can complain about it, as you're always turning around and leaving before they'd theoretically have a chance.

"Slow down," You joke, as the cold air outside hits you. Crosshair just looks down at you from the corner of his eyes, the music still quite loud even from all the way out here.

When you hail a taxi and step in he follows, sliding in right beside you until you're both shoulder to shoulder.

And the whole way there, Crosshair looms. His eyes linger over your form like he's hungry, a stare that's almost physically heavy on you body. You glance up at him once, raising your eyebrows.

But he remains silent; You swear you can hear his heartbeat as the taxi pulls to a stop in front of your building. You've recently moved and you almost don't recognize the place, but it's easy enough to find your way inside once you remember.

Your fingers shake as you punch in the code, feeling his chest brush against your shoulder right blade.

He's so close...

The moment that door closes and locks he is on you, and you reciprocate tenfold. Your arms wrap around his neck tight enough to almost make him need for air, just as desperate for him as he is for you as your lips press against his.

Even for as lithe as he is he still towers over you, pushing your body blindly towards your bed. He knows where it is by heart now, having stayed in your home close to as many times he's slept in the Marauder.

The blankets wrinkle around your form, legs dangling off the edge as he roughly pushes you down only to follow right behind, body looming over yours. Everything here is so soft; Your blankets, your bed, your skin. Crosshair sometimes feels like he doesn't belong, but in the end, he doesn't care.

"You wore this on purpose, didn't you."

He's mentioned this outfit before; It was one that for some reason managed to rev his engine more than anything else you've worn. Maybe it's the red and black, maybe it's the way it lays on your body. Either way, you'd almost totally forgotten he had that reaction to it until right now, as he's busy trying to tear it off you. In a frantic effort you assist, kicking off your shoes and anything else that attempts to get in the way.

"It's not my fault you can't control yourself," You say, feeling his body lay against yours as he unclothes himself.

"Tch," You feel the heat of his cock against your thigh. "Watch your mouth."

Funny how it doesn't sound nearly as mean as that usually would've. You feel the way his cock grinds against you, slick as he slips along your folds.

He pulls away enough so that he can sit on the bed, pulling you towards him the moment he's able.

Your bottom sits the in the dip between his legs, wrapping around his hips. It's almost hard to see his face at this angle, having to lean back just a bit in order to. You also have to as you lift yourself just far enough away to slip a hand between your bodies, guiding his cock as you slowly but surely sink onto him. You can hear him grit his teeth and hiss through them, hands tight on the soft meat of your thighs.

The noise you let out is soft, almost like a breathless sigh as he fully sinks inside of you. Crosshair feels his neck tighten at the sound of it, how cute it is.

But then again you always look cute; The way you get surrounded by his shadow and look up at him, face squished and feeling hot as you bounce on his cock.

Your chest brushes against his, arms wrapping around his neck.

Even sitting in his lap he's taller than you, feeling his hands tightly grip the soft flesh of your waist. Your legs are tight around his hips, and he can feel your hot breath against his skin.

You grip him, nails digging into his shoulders like he's your only weight to this world, cunt tightening around him. Your skin feels like it's on fire, heart pounding in your chest.

When you finally come down from your high you feel Crosshair's hands on your waist, that had for awhile now been partly helping you keep upright. He's so quite sometimes that you can barely tell how he's feeling, that he's finished inside of you but manage to swallow his own moans enough so that you barely even heard it. He liked the sounds of yours more anyways.

Feeling the heat of your cheek as you brush your palm over it, you're glad you left one window open. The chilled breeze is quickly cooling your skin, and the fresh air is keeping your mind from completely fogging over.

"Can you stay the night?"

It's less so an invitation for another round- though you'd absolutely not complain if that turned out to be the case- and more so wondering if you'll be able to steal a rare moment with him. It's not often you get to fall asleep with him, let alone wake up.

Tech is his brothers sober guide as always; He can deal with his brothers while he steals a rare moment for himself.

"Not like they can't reach me if they need me." You'll take that as a positive response, feeling your body slowly lift off of him.

Crosshair often sleeps on his stomach, and as he turns to do so you can see the red, burning lines your nails left on his shoulders and back; And while he's never complained and if anything, seems to enjoy it, you still feel bad for hurting him.

This time you don't comment on them however, instead moving closer enough that he wraps an arm around your waist. Whatever way you sleep the two of you always find a way to tangle together, feeling his warm body against yours in the now cool air of your bedroom.

You think you hear him say something, but you're too close to sleep and it's too quiet for you to hear, as you finally drift off.

Hey, if it isn’t too much trouble and when you have all the energy you need, would you consider making (preferably fem!)reader x crosshair fic where some bad guy takes the reader and then after she is rescued the bad guy says “I should have killed your little girlfriend when i had the chance” id really like to see how you would express his emotions in this one, you capture all of the characters’ behaviour soooo well i love your works <3 ty for considering

Aloha!

This isn't going to end well.

Crosshair x Fem!Reader Short One-shot - The Fatal Mistake

Warnings: Angst/Violence/Tiny Bit Of Fluff

_________________

Forgive me for making something up that isn't canon (yet).

After Crosshair managed to flee Hemlocks facility, he reunited with you, after months of being missing. The Doctor doesn't take it too well, especially since Tarkin is watching this failure critically.

Hemlocks spies know about you, and he gets hold of you. As Crosshair tries to free you, things turn ugly.

___________________

The Fatal Mistake

After the sound of gunshots fades, it is eerily quiet for a long moment. A deceptive silence that seems almost peaceful. Until a voice familiar to you breaks the silence.

Crosshair snarls, "You're in over your head, Doctor."

Hemlock knows what Crosshair can do, and yet he feels superior, his movements deliberate, slow and confident, like those of a predator. His posture carries the arrogance typical of a bully who feels superior to his victim.

He has you handcuffed in front of him like a shield, he is sure that he holds all the cards at the moment, even if Crosshair has taken out his men, and he is facing the Sniper alone.

"I don't think so," Hemlock replies in his calm, low voice, almost purring, "I have someone very close to your heart here, as you can see, and I intend to take advantage of the situation."

Crosshair tilts his head slightly forward, his gaze piercingly fixed on Hemlock, almost like a bull ready to charge at any moment. There's so much hatred in his amber eyes that even you feel it run down your spine, though you know that hatred isn't for you at all.

"Bringing her into this was a big mistake. If you take her from me, I have nothing left to lose, and I will walk over dead bodies to get her back," he growls.

Hemlock has one hand on your shoulder, with the other he points to the dead on the ground, the bullet holes still smoking.

"Yeah, I saw that. You've always been willing to take lives, even innocent lives, without hesitation, from what I've heard."

Crosshair grits his teeth, avoiding looking at your face for fear of the judgment that might lie within. He is well aware of his mistakes, and they've kept him up many a night.

"Those were different times, different circumstances," he says reluctantly.

Hemlock smiles and says unapologetically, "Tell yourself that if it makes you sleep better at night. But in fact, I know you hardly slept in the weeks before you were brought to me. Guilt?"

Crosshair doesn't dignify that question with a response, but instead demands, "Let her go."

You listen to the men, nervously. You know that your life or death is being decided here. You feel Hemlock's hand on your shoulder and the handcuffs cutting into the skin of your wrists.

A few minutes ago you thought you were lost, but Crosshair really showed up, he really came to save you. Fear and joy mix. You trust him, you trust that he will do the right thing. You force yourself to take a breath, to trust that Crosshair has the situation under control.

"Tell yourself that if it makes you sleep better at night. But in fact, I know you barely slept in the weeks before you were brought to me. Guilt?"

"Let her go."

You know about the conflict Crosshair still fights with himself regarding past actions of his. You don't judge him, even though the realization when you first learned some things was a shock.

Crosshair raises his rifle and Hemlock's hand shoots from your shoulder to your neck, pulling you closer to him. He doesn't strangle you, but the grip is firm enough to be uncomfortable. Both men are more than tense.

"Get your hands off her, now!"

"I'm inclined to take them from you just to see how far I can break you," Hemlock says, laughing softly.

You hear a gunshot, you feel Hemlock flinch behind you the next moment and let you go. Hastily, you dash forward and behind Crosshair, who hastily comes towards you and pushes you behind him.

The sniper growls, "There's a reason my name is Crosshair, you should know that, Hemlock. You didn't really think you could use her as a shield, did you?"

Hemlock lies on the ground, one hand, on the side of his neck, looking up at the two of you. He's not mortally wounded, probably would survive this. He looks at you, a biting smile on his lips as he says, "You cost me so much, the respect of my superiors, my project, everything. I should have killed her when I had the chance, only to see in your face how you are breaking inside."

Crosshair growls and slowly leans over him, like a predator sure of its prey.

"You won't get another chance at this"

The muzzle of the rifle tilts toward Hemlock's face. Hastily, you look away as Crosshair pulls the trigger several times at once. You smell burning skin, and flesh, and shake yourself. Automatically, you take a few shaky steps away from Hemlock, who is now lying dead on the ground, to escape the smell.

Crosshair hurriedly follows you, you hear him close behind you, "Are you hurt?"

You shake your head and say softly, "No, just still in a bit of shock."

Very slowly, almost tentatively, Crosshair grabs your shoulder, turns you around to face him and looks at you scrutinizing. His amber eyes roam over your face.

"Are you sure?" he asks gently.

You nod and say just as gently, "Thank you for saving me."

Crosshair relaxes a little, a small smirk twitching at the corners of his mouth, barely noticeable, but you know him well enough to see it. He kisses your temple, long and tenderly, maintaining contact for quite a while, a rare gesture.

"Of course. Anytime, Kitten."

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

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@hunterssecretrecipe

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@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

@malicemercy

@bebopsworld

@echos-girlfriend

@cpnt616

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@jediknightjana

@starwarsnerd111

Nar Cyar’ika

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.

The Bad Batch season 2 did a number on my heart. Be ready for some Crosshair fanarts XD

I really hope he gets to be happy at least a little bit in season 3. He so deserves it.

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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 believe in Crossdad supremacy

Okay I’m currently furious that migraines are often so blindly easy to treat and I had to find this out myself at the age of 26 when I’ve been to a neurologist since I was 11 lol so I’m about to teach you two neat and fast little tricks to deal with pain!

The first is the sternocleidomastoid muscle, or the SCM muscle.

This big red section is responsible for pain around the eye, cheekbone, and jaw, as well as some temple pain. Literally all you have to do is angle your head down a little, angle it away from the side that hurts, and then you can gently pinch and rub that muscle. I find it best to start at the bottom and travel upwards. The relief is so immediate! You can increase pressure as you feel comfortable doing so.

Here is a short and easy video showing this in action

The second is a fast and easy stretch that soothes your vagus nerve, which is the nerve responsible for calming you down. The vagus nerve, for those unfamiliar, is stimulated by deep breathing such as yawning, sighing, singing, or taking a deep breath to calm your anger in a tense situation.

You can stretch this out by sitting up as straight as possible (this does not have to be perfect to work) and interlacing your fingers. Put your hands on the back of your head with your thumbs going down the sides of your neck and, while keeping your face forward, look all the way to one side with just your eyes. Hold that until you feel the urge to breathe deeply or yawn, or until you can tell there’s a change. Then do the same thing on the other side. When you put your arms down, you should clearly be able to turn your head farther in both directions. If the first session doesn’t get rid of your migraine, rest and repeat as many times as necessary. I even get a little fancy with it and roll my eyes up and down along the outer edge sometimes to stretch as much as I can.

If you need a visual here’s a good video on it. I know some of the language they use seems questionable but this is real and simple science and should not be discarded because it’s been adopted by the trendy wellness crowd!

I seriously cannot believe I didn’t hear a word of this from any doctor in my life. Additionally, if you get frequent recurring migraines, you may want to see a dietician. Migraines can be caused by foods containing histamines, lectin, etc. and can also be caused by high blood pressure in specific situations such as exercise, stress, and even sex.

If any of this information helps you I’d love to hear it btw! It’s so so fast and easy to do. Good luck!

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.'