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roam-rs · 2 months

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Wrap Me in Your Skin and Bones

NSFW - 18+

Warnings/Tags : Cockwarming, Nightmares, Mentions of Trauma and PTSD, Angst, Comfort, Love Confessions

Relationship: Crosshair/Fem!Reader

Summary: After solitary confinement on Mount Tantiss, Crosshair is plagued by nightmares that lead him to seek comfort in your body.

A/N : Wrote and posted this to AO3 before season 3 but wanted to put it here too 🫡 I just had this angsty lil thing in my head about how a touch starved Cross would deal with physical contact after the empire 🫶 (even though I firmly believe Tech survived the fall - he’s dead for the purpose of this I’m SORRY)

NSFW BELOW THE CUT

The sharp hit to your ribs has you springing into a sitting position, eyes wild and scanning the room for a threat. Muscle memory from years in the war has you reaching for the blaster and pointing it towards various shadows in the room.

You would be a lousy shot with the way your hand shook from the adrenaline in your veins. But, there are no imperial agents hiding in your room, no battle droids under your bed, the source of the attack lays next to you, writhing against imaginary forces in his nightmare.

Crosshair.

Abandoning the blaster on the floor, you work on tearing the bedsheets away from him before he can tangle himself any further in the restrictive fabric. Every muscle in his body seems to be rigid, even once you manage to free him, but he still thrashes, as if fighting against invisible restraints.

The sight of his struggle has your stomach forming knots.

“Crosshair, wake up,” your pleading hands press to his shoulder, thankful that the prominence of his collarbones has eased over the last few weeks, but he’s still nowhere close to as healthy he was the last time you saw him before the war had ended.

Unlike the rest of the batch, you hadn’t seen Crosshair during his time under the empire, and although during his absence you were thankful for it, this only made it worse the day his brothers brought him home.

Crosshair had always been the leanest of them, you had even joked with him on several occasions that he resembled the toothpicks which always hung from his lips, but the breath had been stolen from your body when Echo half-carried him down the walkway. Crosshairs face was almost as hollow as Echo’s had been after Skako Minor, and it was now flecked in silver stubble, with a large scar that stretched across the side of his head where patches of hair were entirely missing.

Just as the pair passed you by, Crosshairs eyes had met your own. You were used to a range of emotions in them, from heated glares and desire filled gazes, occasionally there was even an amused look that framed his eyes with a hint of laughter lines. However, what you didn’t prepare yourself for was for them to be entirely void of any emotion, it was if you were just one of the stone pillars that lined the streets.

After a week in the infirmary, it became evident that Crosshair couldn’t sleep alone. With Hunter preoccupied with Omega, the responsibility fell to Echo the first few nights, he was the closest to understanding Crosshairs situation after all.

On the third day after the rescue, Hunter had told you although Omega was kept somewhat safe with another female clone, they had found Crosshair in solitary confinement. Something deep in your chest broke at the unsaid weight of the information. Despite his aversion to most people, Crosshair had spent years of being in tight living spaces with his brothers, only to be thrown in a cell alone for maker knows how long.

Maybe this was why he gravitated towards you once he was finally in good enough physical condition to be released from the infirmary.

Between Echo’s own complicated relationship with sleep, Wrecker’s inability to not snore and wake everyone in the immediate vicinity, and Hunters responsibility for Omega, it was you who took him in.

If Tech was still here, he would have been the one to stay with Crosshair. You push that thought down, but the pain still resonates in your chest.

You give Crosshair another shake, and the second your other hand presses to the bare skin of his face, his eyes snap open. He lashes out like a snarling animal trapped in a snare, gripping both your wrists and pinning you beneath him with a speed that causes the room to spin around you.

“It’s just me, Cross.” You speak in a hushed tone, attempting to calm him as you fight against his grip.

Reality bleeds into his eyes, momentarily easing his pained expression, but then he’s choking on the air, collapsing onto you.

“I need,” although his face is buried in your neck, you hear the emotion crack his voice, and you already know the broken look that on his face. “Please, I need you.”

“It’s okay, Cross.” You nod and widen your legs, allowing his hips to settle between them. Your bodies act on the familiar routine you had both fallen into over the last few months since he moved into your spare room - which he has still never spent a night in. Crosshairs shakes have already begun to ease with the contact, his hands have at least stilled enough so he can effectively rid you both of the few items of clothing until you were bare against each other.

He coils himself around you at first, as if he were a snake trying to suffocate its prey, but you only wrap your arms around him in return, welcoming his touch. You aren’t certain if it’s the solitary confinement that made him need the contact, or if it’s some lingering effect of the chip, but either way you still offer yourself to him.

Seemingly unable to wait for his heart to settle, he chases the comfort only you can provide, and begins the slow push of himself inside you. Crosshair’s breaths are escaping him in desperate pants and he’s pressing as much of himself to you as possible, seeking the warmth of your body to drive away the sensation of the cold interrogation table that plagued his mind.

The stretch burns with the little preparation you have, and Crosshair senses your silent discomfort. He draws his hips back with a mumbled apology, so only the tip remains inside you, and draws slow circles on your clit with his thumb. It doesn’t take long for the resistance to ease with your wetness, and soon enough he’s rocking back into you with a groan, allowing you time to adjust.

He doesn’t attempt to bring you to the precipice, or anywhere close to it. Once he fully settles into you, his hand withdraws and instead tangles itself in your hair.

Right now Crosshairs need for you isn’t sexual, despite what it seems.

Some nights it will delve into more once his body relaxes, and he’ll take his time to have you come undone beneath him with more care and attention than he had ever possessed before the rise of the empire. But tonight, as he does most nights, he stills once fully seathed inside you, his only desire being your embrace.

“Where was it this time?” Sometimes he would answer, but other times he would give a slight shake to his head in response.

“Barton-4, then the interrogation room.” His voice is strained, and you recall everything he’s already told you about these places, specifically the haunting memory of Mayday’s death.

“You’re safe, we’re both safe, Crosshair.” You press a kiss to his temple as if it would help the promise sink into his mind. One of your hands moves to the back of his head, cradling him against your neck as the other traces patterns on his back.

It takes a few minutes of silence for his breathing to fall in sync with yours, and despite his cock being inside you, the light exhale against your neck has your face heating at the intimacy. His shakes have entirely ceased now, and you think he’s fallen asleep, until you hear the broken whisper.

“I love you.”

Your body freezes at the admission, both hands stopping their comforting movements. His throat bobs against your neck with a dry swallow, and you wonder if it’s his body trying to subconsciously take back the words.

You had been somewhat together during the clone wars, but it was never emotionally intimate. He had a physical need for you in a way that led to fucking you from behind against almost every surface on the marauder. And yet, true to his cold nature he never faced you, or even kissed you. Once he finished, he would neaten his armour and leave without a goodbye, yet you would still allow him back every time he gave the word.

“Crosshair-“ you start, but he’s cutting you off before your mouth can form another syllable.

“I know it’s not the right time to say it, but I do, I always have.” He rasps, trying to force the confession out in one breath, as if ripping the bacta patch off a wound.

Always have?

Your mind begins unravelling years of your self-imposed torture during the clone wars from biting down your feelings, pretending not to care when some pretty girl inevitably threw herself at him in a bar.

“You need to sleep.” He bites out, hurt evident in his tone at your lack of response, but he doesn’t dare peel himself away from you. Despite the hurt seeping into him, he’s too selfish to let you go unless you ask him to leave.

“Crosshair.” There’s no response, but something possesses you to reach out anyways, and you’re pressing your hand to his face, craning your neck to meet his stare. His eyes are open, but still avoid your own.

Your brush your nose against his, and your thumb traces over the sharp angle of his jaw, memorising the way he ever-so-slightly leans into your touch.

“I love you too.”

His eyes close, a shaky breath of relief escaping his lips. Crosshair had never needed a helmet to mask his emotions before his brothers brought him back to Pabu, back to you. His face had always been set in an ever cold smirk, whether it be when he was taunting a reg, on a stealth mission, or when you caught glimpses of him in mirrored surfaces in the marauder as he fucked himself into you. However, at your words, something akin to peace washes over his face, allowing it to morph into a rare expression of something softer, like that of a soldier returning from battle finally setting eyes on his home.

When the morning comes, you half expect the bed to be cold, or at least as cold as it can be in the climate of Pabu, but when the midday sun casts its warming rays over your skin, he’s still inside of you. Slender limbs have tangled with your own and his face is nestled against your neck, but you can tell from his breathing that he’s already awake.

“Stay.” It’s a whispered prayer against your skin, a desperate plea to some deity that seems to have abandoned him long ago in that cell on Mount Tantiss. But you don’t think the gods, the Empire or even the force could keep you apart now, and you don’t want them to. You press your forehead to his, a wordless answer to him that you aren’t going anywhere, that he’ll never have to be alone again.

#tbb crosshair x reader #crosshair x fem!reader #tbb crosshair #crosshair bad batch #clone trooper crosshair #crosshair #crosshair x reader #the bad batch #bad batch

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lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom · 22 days

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Hello love, I had a thought after the new episode about Crosshair x reader where she’s been with Hunter and wrecker trying to find Omega (and him) and when crosshair steps out of the ship she just runs to him <3 maybe it also includes them talking on the marauder after about what’s happened. I hope this sparks interest for you!! I love your writing :)

Forgiven

Crosshair x Reader

Summary- You reminisce on the first time Crosshair fought against you and his brothers. He thought you'd never forgive him, but he is surprised when you reunite.

A/N- So sorry this one took so long! I'm still sick but was determined to get this out! Thank you for requesting!! I hope you like it, please let me know if there is anything I can do to improve.

Word Count- 2,276

You remember the first time you realized you lost Crosshair to the Empire. The memory plagued your sleepless nights...

"I know what you're going to do, but please- don't." Omega begged Crosshair. You turned to listen to them, but couldn't figure out what she was talking about. What was he going to do? And how did Omega know about it?

"What do you know?" He remarked.

"I know you can't help it..." She rested a hand to his shoulder. The act warmed your heart, but anxiety rested in the deep pit of your stomach.

You couldn't place exactly why. I mean, you were all imprisoned. But, really, it was nothing the squad hadn't been in before. This was the kind of anxiety that rushed your veins. The kind that appears out of no where and strikes you.

At this feeling, you stood up to move and sit on Crosshairs right. He wasn't very affectionate in public, but you knew the proximity would ease your nerves.

Your hand gently ran down his arm as you sat, he straightened up at your touch. He was on edge as well.

The small gesture of him spreading his right leg slightly wider, to touch you, made you smile. Even in a cell, he could make you feel at home.

He didn't turn to look at you, but took your hand in his, holding it in his lap.

Just seconds later, a masked group of clones arrived.

"CT-9904, you're coming with us."

"Excuse me?" You stood, Hunter was quicker than you though.

"Oh no no, no. We stay together." The clone immediately rammed the butt of his gun into Hunter's stomach. He doubled over in pain.

"Stand down!" The clone yelled. You still advanced, determined to stick together.

A hand grabbed at your wrist. It was Crosshair, still looking down.

"Stop, you'll just get into more trouble." He then looked up at you. He stood, still holding onto you. Your breath hitched, scared for him. What would the Empire do to him?

"Wait!" You called out, he turned around just before stepping out of the cell.

You leaned up and gave him a quick kiss on the lips, somewhat of a 'goodbye.' You could see his face get visibly softer. You pulled him closer for a hug, your face in his neck. "Whatever happens, try to meet us at the Hangar..." You whispered. Only he heard.

He nodded his head at you, then turned to follow the clone. The jail wall went back up.

You watched him walk away, the clones right behind him. "He'll be okay. We'll find a way out." Hunter reassured, a hand on your shoulder.

He was right. You all did find a way out. In an attempt to retrieve everyone's armor, you all rushed to the Hangar. Just before putting your last arm piece on, you stopped. "Where's Crosshair! He should be back by now!" You had hoped he found a way to escape the clones that took him. Looking around again didn't help.

"Tech, power up the ship. The rest of us will go look for Crosshair." Hunter commanded.

No one had a chance to respond, the large doors of the cabin opened to reveal him. He was leading a large squad of troopers.

"Uhh, I don't think we'll have to go far..." Omega spoke.

Your breath hitched, but you weren't scared. Crosshair would never do anything to hurt you. Nor his brothers, right?

"Cross!" You went to meet him, you didn't care about the other clone troopers next to him.

However, Hunter blocked you with his body. You stopped, wary but trusting his extreme senses.

"Best stand down sergeant." Crosshair said, rifle at the ready. "Make it easy on yourself... And your team." He looked you in the eyes, then back to Hunter.

"Have you lost your mind!" Hunter interrogated.

The two of them argued back and forth, though neither side made an official attack.

You were so confused, why would Crosshair turn on everyone. Why would he turn on you? Tears prickled, you placed your helmet on so no one could see.

"Now surrender." Crosshair tried, deep down you didn't think he wanted to injure anyone.

Blast fired everywhere.

Omega covered her head- barred down. You rushed to her, giving her cover. Hunter joined your side, now he was guiding Omega back to the ship.

You, Wrecker, and Echo fought hard, which gave Hunter enough time to usher Omega safely to the ship.

Hunter barely had time to run back out, guns firing, when all the overhead lights went off. The storm outside did nothing to help the lighting.

You crouched down to collect your thoughts, looking through your visor you saw many heat signatures. It was hard to tell who was who, but identified Wrecker by his size and Echo by his arm.

You blasted at the on-coming troopers, distracted by a new wave of them coming in. Someone had called for backup.

A loud scream let you know Wrecker had been shot, you weren't close enough to help him. A glance back showed you Echo and Hunter pulling him to safety.

The second you turned back around the barrel of a gun was pointed at your head. A figure sat inches in front of you, also crouched down.

"Don't say a word." It was Crosshair...

You pushed your helmet off, suddenly desperate for some air. You stared at him with glossy eyes. He wouldn't really shoot you, would he?

"Follow them back to The Marauder. Do not tell a soul I let you." He commanded you, lowering his gun. Was he telling you to escape now?

"Cross, I don't-"

"It's not safe here. You have to run."

"Bu-"

"It is too late for me, but you need to go. Now." When you didn't get up, he raised his rifle at you.

"Go!"

You nodded, shoving your helmet over your head. You wasted no more time as you ran to the ship. Tech closed the ramp and door behind you.

The ship roared off, jumping into hyperspace immediately.

You were left dazed, confused, and heartbroken. How could you lose him so fast?

It had been a long time since you all had to run. Not a day, or night, went by that you didn't think about Crosshair. No matter what he thought about you- he was always going to be your true love.

You could only hope he still felt the same deep down.

While you secretly prayed that you'd run into him again, all your prayers were soon taken up. They shifted to be about Omegas safety, ever since she was physically taken from your arms on Ord Mantell.

They didn't stop until you, Hunter, and Wrecker received a coded message. It contained an abandoned planet's coordinates, sent by 'Lula.' You knew it was Omega, no one else knew about Wreckers (turned Omegas) stuffed doll.

Hunter couldn't fly the ship fast enough, you three soon arrived at the location.

At the sound of another ship landing, Wrecker went to see who it was. Just in case it was some kind of ambush.

Seconds later, you both heard giggles from Omega and laughter from Wrecker.

Hunter looked down at the floor, ashamed.

"Hunter, so see her." You said, resting a friendly hand on his knee.

He was silent for a moment, gaze still down. "What, what if she is ma-"

"Omega loves you, she's not mad at you for anything. Please go see your daughter." You smiled at your own words, and the fact that his face turned red.

He rose and walked out to see her. You followed behind, hugging Omega after she and Hunter had their moment.

"How... how did you escape?" Hunter asked, addressing the elephant in the room.

"I had help." Your smile dimmed, watching the empire ship door closely. A figure walked down, the second you copped a good look- you were running.

A gasp barely had time to leave your mouth, your feet hit the ground in quick strides. You didn't stop until you were met with his body.

He stumbled back, but caught you. Your arms immediately wrapped tightly around him. Like he was going to fade away.

You let out a single sob when his hand lifted to caress your hair, then back. "Cross..."

He didn't say a word, he just squeezed you tight. It told you all you needed to know.

In that moment you forgot all that he did. Heck, you didn't care about any of it. He was here, alive, safe, and not trying to attack anyone.

"I'm sorry.... I'm so, so sorry." He repeated himself, mumbling apologies over and over.

You pulled away, forcing his forehead down to touch yours. "Shut up." You silenced him with a kiss, your eyes closed.

It was an awkward few hours on The Marauder. Wrecker and Hunter were still wary on Crosshair. Truth be told, they had a right to be. Omega defended him when she could, but everyone needed to accept the change on their own time.

That Crosshair's days with the Empire was now in the past.

Omega soon fell asleep on Hunter, you could tell she needed a good nights sleep. One where she wasn't constantly looking over her shoulder, or scared someone would come in her sleeping quarters.

As Hunter put her to bed, Wrecker found himself on the verge of sleep too. He headed to one of the two cots hidden in the back.

"Hunter, go to bed." You gently suggested.

"You sure you'll be okay?" He eyed Crosshair, still not trusting.

"I'm a big girl Hunter. Plus, I don't think Cross would be dumb enough to go against all of us with no weapons." You tried to joke, but the tension was so thick you could cut it. Both men raised an eyebrow at you.

You sighed, "Go to bed. I'm fine, really." He nodded and headed off. That left you and Crosshair alone in the cockpit.

It was quiet for a minute, both of you were scared to speak first. It was all so... real, so serious all of a sudden.

"How bad was it?" You asked, turned away from him on purpose.

"Worse than you can imagine." He didn't mean to, but he broke your heart at his words.

You turned to face him, quickly taking note of how his hand shook. You looked from his hand to his face, he tried to hide it.

"Uhm, I guess i'll take the first watch if you want to get some rest." You were so uncomfortable. There was an unspoken thought dancing around the room. While you wanted to kiss and hold him, there was a weird air that surrounded you both. It made you question every move, like it was your first date all over again.

"Right..." Was all he could muster. He was terrified of saying the wrong thing.

He bit this fear back with his next words. "I wish, I wish I could go back. Do things... differently."

"I know. Me too." You tried to meet his gaze, but he stared at the wall.

You were tired of this. What happened to the two of you?

"Crosshair."

"Hmm?"

"What's wrong."

He stared.

"Cross, if you don't love me anymore just tell me. Don't beat around the bush."

This made him snap his head at you. "What? You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Really? Because after I kissed you, you haven't touched me! We used to tell each other everything, now we can't hold simple conversation! I Know a lot happened, I am so sorry you went through what you did. It shatters me just thinking about you getting hurt... but please, talk to me." You pleaded.

He grunted and sat up straight. "You deserve someone better! That's why. Because you shouldn't want to be with someone who turned on his brothers. Who abandoned his team. Who tried to kill the person he loved most. Maybe I should stop beating around the bush, you'll realize what I really am. Disposable."

You blinked up at him, heart beating fast. You didn't know what to say.

Crosshair 'humphed' and slouched back in his chair.

You rose to your feet, standing in front of him. You took his shaking hand in yours. "The man I love came back. He saved Omega. I know deep down you are the same Crosshair I fell in love with. The man that, even when controlled by an inhibitor chip, managed to let me run free. You could have killed me, that's what the chip told you to do... but, you didn't. Crosshair, I won't- I can't blame you for doing anything under the control of your chip."

"I did awful things after that chip was taken out..." He still thought he was unworthy, trying to make you agree.

"You can't push me away. You can't push away the people who love you." You still held his shaking hand in yours, raising your other to rest on his cheek.

"I forgive you... I truly do. I know it will be a long time until you forgive yourself, but I will be right here when you do. The guys will come around, just wait. I promise everything will be okay."

He closed his eyes, leaning into your palm. You moved down, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. At his, he rested his hands on your hips and pulled you to his lap.

You curled yourself up, finally feeling that warm comfort you always felt in him.

You kiss him again, slowly this time.

"I'll do better..." He croaked.

"I know you will."

A/N- Thank you so much for reading! I have fr been sick for a whole week, like give me a break, body! When I am feeling 100% I will come back and fix any grammatical errors. Thank you for your patience and understanding!

Tags- (lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss

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kiwicopia · 1 month

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❤️ Crosshair x Fem!Reader | Blurb ❤️

TW: slight spoilers from the new season, fluff with Crosshair, soft touches, written with a female reader in mind.

(🫠 I die inside every time his hand shakes)

Neither of you said a thing when finally left alone together. After all this time, after everything that happened, neither of you uttered a single word. You wanted to ask him so many things, yet bombarding him with questions wasn't the wisest decision right now. He looked lost in his thoughts, which you knew were no doubt muddled with questions of his own that he refused to ask.

His right hand trembled, and he was quick to conceal it with his left. Whatever happened to him had been horrific, though you wouldn't press him on the matter. The silence hung heavy between the two of you, until you broke it.

"Cross?"

Oh, how he missed your voice. He could never forget how sweet it sounded, but he also felt a twinge of guilt in his gut at how worried you were. It was like a vibroblade twisting his insides around, and he hated it. With reluctance, he finally lifted his head and met your gaze. He hated the way your brows furrowed with concern, and the small frown on your lips stirred up feelings he thought died long ago.

"Sorry," he muttered.

It was a soft apology. Perhaps for the way he betrayed his brothers, betrayed you, or for the horrid threats that spilled from his lips when he let you go the last time. Either way, you didn't care. You didn't care for his apologies, having decided to keep everything in the past. Who he was then would be buried, because all you cared about was him right now, in the present.

You scooted closer to him, slowly, yet he made no effort to move away or show discomfort towards your action. "Don't be," you told him. Crosshair looked down, avoiding your gaze once again, and you watched as he rubbed the back of his right hand with his left thumb. "I'm glad that you're back."

"You should be angry." You frowned at his words. "After everything I've done."

His body tensed when he felt your hand on his shoulder, but it quickly relaxed under the gentle touch. "Let's leave all of that in the past," you said. When the man glanced at you, his chest tightened at how softly you stared at him. It was as if you meant your words, but he knew better than to believe they were a lie.

Crosshair gave a slow nod before reaching for your other hand with his right, only to stop short when it trembled again. He grumbled under his breath before he began pulling it away, but you didn't let him. The light shakes that coursed through his hand ceased when yours wrapped around it, encasing it in a soothing warmth that he didn't want to admit that he missed.

The silence that came was no longer awkward, and he let out a small, content sigh when your body finally scooted close enough to press against him. His eyes closed as he finally let himself relax against you, and you smiled in response. "I've missed you," he finally admitted.

You already knew that. You also knew that he missed you as much as you missed him. Even if he wasn't vocal about it, you could always tell with his little actions. The way he leaned into you, how his thumb gently rubbed your hand as it held his, you knew all too well.

He was here to stay. Crosshair would never leave now. He was finally home.

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nahoney22 · 6 months

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🥳🥳congrats on 4000 !!🥳🥳

For your follower celebration

May I request a sfw f! Reader x crosshair

In which reader is woken up from a nightmare and is comforted by cross, which leads to cuddles and falling asleep in his arms? 👉👈

Maybe reader has a crush and wasn't expecting to be shaken from a nightmare nor was she expecting cross to be the one to wake them out of it and comfort her (because despite his standoff attitude Mr. Snarky has a crush too )

Lol sorry if that sounds confusing or complicated

Totally fine if you pass this request up lol

Nightmare Rescue

Crosshair X F!Reader

word count: 1.2k

When a nightmare takes over your sleep, your roughly awakened by the squads Marksman. But what you didn’t anticipate was for him to crawl into the same bunk with you.

warnings: Safe for work, female reader, mutual pining, reader has a nightmare, moody Crosshair, fluff and comfort, cuddles. Can be read as GN.

authors note: many thanks for the support and request @secretthegriffin. Sorry for the wait. Enjoy 🤍

With intense, inscrutable eyes, Crosshair observes you from across the room, attuned to the slightest shift in your typically calm expression. Your brows furrow as you begin to mumble incoherently, your breath turning erratic, punctuated by occasional gasps.

He keenly discerns the distress etched on your face. The fluttering of your eyelids, as if ensnared in a tormenting dream, leaves him deeply unsettled. He can't bear to witness it any longer and he firmly grips your shoulder and shakes your body.

Abruptly, you awaken with a jolt, your heart racing and your body ensnared in tangled bedsheets. The nightmarish grip still clings to your mind, the vivid and unsettling images haunting you. As you strive to make sense of it, your thoughts race in a whirlwind of fear and confusion, your mind wrestling to distinguish dream from reality. But then you meet his gaze.

"C-Crosshair? What... are you okay?"

He hums, his moody facade making it hard to discern his emotions. "I'm fine. You're not."

You wipe the sweat from your brow and swing your legs around the bunk as you sit up. "Did I wake you?" you groan, running a hand through your untamed hair.

"Yes," he replies dryly, his moody expression giving nothing away.

Cursing internally, guilt gnaws at you as Crosshair moves back to his bunk and hunches forward once he sits.

“What was it about?” His unexpected question catches you off guard. You had anticipated Crosshair might wake you and leave you to your own devices, so his display of concern surprises you. It's a rarity, but not unwelcome. You've always found him intriguing since joining the Batch, though you can't envision a relationship beyond comrades, and perhaps, at most, friends.

His inquisitive "Well?" breaks your reverie, snapping you out of your thoughts. His frowning gaze meets your momentarily blank expression, making you feel like you've been gawking at him as if he has three heads.

"Oh, erm," you stammer, not eager to revisit those dreams, "just like... death, I guess." It's not far from the truth.

You glance back at him, finding his gaze unwavering. "You must dream about it a lot."

Your heart twinges, realising that Crosshair has likely seen your internal struggle more than once, and it's possible that the others have noticed too. It's not every time you sleep, but it happens often enough for someone to say, ‘oh, another one?’.

"Yeah, I guess," you admit.

The ship falls into a comfortable silence, with only the typical hum of the engines and the faint, rhythmic tapping of Crosshair bouncing his knee. His silence doesn't bother you; it's not unusual, and merely being in his company is enough, especially with your lingering crush.

Moments pass until he suddenly looks at you, his eyes piercing, a code you can never fully decipher. Your legs feel like jelly, and you momentarily forget how to breathe.

"You should go back to sleep," he orders abruptly. However, for that fleeting moment, there's a softness in his tone when he meets your gaze. "Long day ahead tomorrow."

You nod softly, releasing a deep exhale, breath-taken as usual when he speaks to you. "I suppose. Goodnight."

He doesn't respond with the same words, instead emitting a subtle grunt, his own version of 'goodnight.' But tossing and turning brings no relief as you fail to fall back asleep.

Uncertain whether your inability to sleep is due to the fear of more nightmares or the worry of disturbing Crosshair, you let out a subtle sigh. To your surprise, Crosshair remains awake.

"Can't sleep?"

"Nope," you say, emphasising the 'p'. You turn your head to see Crosshair has maintained the same position for nearly an hour now. He sits in his stark, stoic silence. "What about you?"

"I don't need to," he mutters, reaching under his bunk to retrieve his rifle and a cloth. His hands move with precision and care as he idly cleans his most prized possession, a ritual he performs with unwavering focus.

You watch him for a moment, your eyes tracing the graceful movements of his hands. Then, you return your gaze to the dull and boring ceiling above you. A minute or two later, something shifts, and the whole galaxy seems to pause as Crosshair stands over you, his expression stoic. "Move up."

You blink up at him, words caught in your throat. "Huh?"

"Move," he commands, taking a step closer. His voice holds a hint of determination. "Up."

And you comply, shifting your position to make room for him.

He lays down, and the atmosphere in the cramped bunk is charged with tension. Both of you are stiff, shoulder to shoulder, staring at the ceiling, your hearts pounding in the confined space.

Summoning your courage, you turn your head to face him. "Why are you in my bunk?"

You see him suck on the inside of his cheek, a subtle sign of his nerves, and you wonder what's going through his mind. He turns to face you, his face incredibly close, his piercing eyes locking onto yours. "Do you want me to leave?"

You find yourself briefly lost in the depths of his eyes, drawn into their enigmatic allure, but you snap out of your trance before it becomes awkward, shaking your head slightly. "No," you whisper softly, your heart fluttering as you watch him turn his head away to gaze at the ceiling once more.

A silence descends once again, a little more comfortable than the last, and just as you begin to relax, you're nearly startled when you feel his fingers, with the utmost gentleness, twitch toward yours.

You hold your breath, uncertain if it was accidental, but he doesn't pull away. Instead, his fingers gradually interlace with yours. Slowly, you close your hand, allowing the realisation to sink in that you are holding Crosshair's hand.

Crosshair remains quiet for a while, and you don't mind the silence. However, when he does speak, his voice is barely above a whisper. "You can sleep into me," he says, his voice tinged with a hint of nervousness, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. "If it would help you sleep better."

"Really?"

"Yes," he replies swiftly, anticipating your question. "Cuddle... into me."

How could you resist such an invitation?

You quietly shift onto your side, laying your head in the crook of his torso and armpit, your arm draping delicately over his toned frame. If this wasn't an innocent gesture, you might have melted at the sensation of his body against yours.

You half-expected him to flee, second-guessing his decision, but instead, he chuckles lowly. "Don't be scared, come closer." His words send a pleasant shiver down your spine, and you shake off any distracting thoughts, pressing yourself more firmly against him and sighing contentedly.

But nothing feels better than when his arms snake around you, pulling you close, and he lays a hand on the back of your head, gently massaging your hair.

Your eyes flutter closed, and you hum in delight. "Crosshair, you don't need to do this," you comment shyly after a few minutes.

"If I didn't want to, I wouldn't," he replies, gently meeting your gaze. For a brief moment, your gazes fully lock, not just fleeting glances. His eyes roam your face and pause briefly at your lips, but he doesn't give in. Instead, he smiles, a soft and rare expression.

"Go to sleep now, darling."

As soon as your eyes fall shut, you drift off into a peaceful slumber, and not a single nightmare disturbs your rest.

Masterlist

More Crosshair Works

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#crosshair x reader #crosshair x fem!reader #bad batch crosshair #bad batch crosshair x reader #nahoney22 writes #the bad batch #crosshair bad batch x you

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stardust-kenobi · 1 year

Text

Blizzard

Crosshair x Fem!Reader

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

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

Word count: 2.1k

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

Request for @crosshairs-wife 💕

Gif cred: @azertyrobaz

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You feel warm too” He noted.

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

He pulled away.

Oh no.

“What are you doing?” He snapped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you okay?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hoped that they wouldn't.

——

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

#crosshair #crosshair tbb #the bad batch #tbb #crosshair x reader #crosshair x fem!reader #f!reader #smut #fluff #requested #stardust-kenobi #crosshair x you #crosshair x y/n #Star Wars smut #clone wars #clone force 99 #crosshair x you smut #my work

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the-bad-batch-baroness · 3 months

Note

Hi ! Congrats on 300 followers !

Can I request :

Crosshair

Romantic

Fem!reader

sfw

300

Prompt #6 : "I'm here. I've got you. You're safe now."

optional : said by reader to Crosshair after he was rescued from Mount Tantiss (maybe after a nightmare)

Thank you so much and congratulations again ! <3 (And you don't have to do it if you don't want to, it's totally fine)

I Won't Leave You

Crosshair x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Crosshair x Fem!Reader

Tags & Warnings: nightmare, angst, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 300

Author's Note: CORA, I AM SO SORRY. I got so carried away trying to complete the bingo fics that I let the last three event requests sit idle in my inbox. However, as promised in my New Years post, I have finally completed it!!! Thank you so much for your patience and putting up with me. I hope you still like it 💚

Crosshair shoots up in his bed, screaming at the top of his lungs as sweat pours down his face. He heaves in his breaths and claws at the duvet to try and find reality, but the images from his nightmare refuse to dissipate from his mind. As he continues to search for safety, he feels a hand grab his arm and he begins to flail wildly, desperately trying to escape his nightmare.

"Easy," you say.

Crosshair tries to remember who the voice belongs to, but the room is dark and his mind is still groggy, so he continues to fight your grip as if you're an attacker.

You turn on the lamp on the bedside table and as his eyes adjust to the brightness, he finally sees who the hand belongs to. It's yours. You're holding his wrist and looking at him with concern in his eyes.

His body trembles as he settles and works to get his breathing under control.

"I'm here," you soothe. "I've got you. You're safe now."

Crosshair swallows hard. "I… I don't know what happened."

"A nightmare?" you ask.

"Yeah," he pants. "A bad one. From my time on Mount Tantiss. They did… things to me."

You suck in a breath. "That place is gone now. They can't hurt you anymore."

"But the memories–"

"Are just memories," you whisper.

"I can't…" he breathes while holding the side of his head. "I can't get rid of them."

"It'll take time," you reassure.

"Time," he says. "The one thing I don't have."

You pull Crosshair into your chest and scoot back against the headboard, wrapping your arms around him.

"You can try to go back to sleep when you're ready," you say. "I won't leave you."

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "Thank you."

Event Masterlist

Masterlist

A03

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multi-fan-dom-madness · 7 months

Text

Midnight Masquerade - Crosshair

Summary: The bottle chooses your partner, and it lands on Crosshair.

Chapter Warnings: minors DNI; vampire!Crosshair x f!reader. kinks: mind control + marking/biting. spitting, feeding, blood, consent is gained though it's a little fuzzy, praise, oral (m receiving), PiV sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it); if I missed anything, please let me know!

Word Count: 2.6k

Read the intro here! | Suggested listening

...Crosshair.

A round of wolf-whistles rises from the rest of the table (quite literally, in Hunter’s case). Your gaze snaps to Crosshair. His eyes, shining blood red in the strobing lights of the party, meet yours without hesitation. A slow, smug smirk tugs his lips over his teeth. Pointed canines gleam. Core clenching in a mix of anxiety and excitement, you swallow involuntarily. For a moment, you forget where you are, entranced by the ruby color of his eyes, vision tunneling so that all you can see is him.

The moment passes. Tech appraises both you and Crosshair. “Please do take note of any physiological differences or changes during this proce—hmph—”

Crosshair shoves his slim hand in his brother’s face, effectively shutting him up and providing leverage to climb out of the confines of the table. You rise on shaky legs. Crosshair moves to your side; he’s not as broad as his batchmates, but you still feel dwarfed by his presence, the pallid tint his skin has taken on, the sunken circles around his eyes, the faint scars on his neck that remind you what he’s transformed into. Even his clothing, a plain, high-collared black cape and simple button-down, sets your blood into a frenzy. When his hand comes to rest on the small of your back, you shudder.

Peering at you with hooded eyes, Crosshair quirks one eyebrow. “Well, doll?”

“Let’s find somewhere more...private,” you say. Your heart is in your throat, choking your words, but you’re not scared so much as you are exhilarated.

Crosshair’s grip curves around your waist and tugs you firmly against his side. The appreciative look he gives you reassures you; from the few times you’ve interacted, there’s always been an unspoken magnetism that draws you to him. His silent, stoic facade and piercing gaze haunt your dreams on occasion.

The crowd of troopers and nat-born partiers alike parts before the two of you as Crosshair guides you, towards a doorway at the back you hadn’t noticed before. In your periphery, you catch the looks some of the troopers share, the dubious expressions on their faces, but the pulse and thrum of the music drowns out any comments they mutter. All that matters is the way that Cross’s fingers dig into your side, the angry glare he levels at anyone who gets too close to you.

It makes you feel wanted. Desired. You walk with your back a little straighter.

At the back of the large building, the single doorway leads to a hallway that itself branches into tributary halls and connected rooms. Straight ahead, a set of stairs leads up to another level.

“You got a safe word?” Cross asks, voice silky and low, as the door shuts behind the two of you.

Nodding, you meet his gaze again with a daring smile, lifting your chin to expose your neck more than you normally would. His eyes flicker down from yours to trace the column of your throat, before returning to your face. In the low light, his red eyes gleam. Your breath grows shallower.

“Meiloorun,” you finally say.

“Good,” he hums. Tugging you forward once more, he leads you down a series of twisting hallways that leave you disoriented and confused. The longer you walk, the more you yearn for him to slide his hand down to your ass, or to push you against the wall and take you there, or even to just sink his fangs into you and—

“You have loud thoughts, dollface. Patience.”

Startled, you peer up at him with wide eyes. “Can you read my mind?”

Drawing you to a halt, he glances into the nearest chamber and seems to come to a decision. Pushing you gently, he guides you into the room. A light, dim and soft yellow, blooms to life from a lamp in the corner, revealing—a bed? In the center of the room, a massive bed with plush pillows awaits, and hanging along one wall are a myriad of tools, toys, and implements. Your body flushes with heat at the sight.

Crosshair slips his arm from around you. “I can hear vague impressions of what you’re thinking,” he finally answers.

“Oh.” You hesitate in the midst of the room as he shuts the door behind you. “So, uh, are you good with this?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

“Right,” you say, “yeah. Just asking.”

He hums, wrapping his arms around you from behind, caging you in place, as he dips his head to breathe in your scent. Nose skimming over your skin, he inhales deeply. The groan he lets out rumbles against your back. Goosebumps skitter down your skin.

“You think too much,” he grumbles, then presses a chaste, close-mouthed kiss to the spot where your neck and shoulder meet. “Let me help with that.”

“H-How?” you breathe out, nerves coming alive in reaction to him. Kriff, he’s barely touched you, and you’re already so sensitive, so open, so curious.

His hands guide you to turn around in his embrace. Snaking your arms up around his shoulders, you fiddle with the short, silvery locks at the nape of his neck. Slowly, you raise your gaze from his chest, where silver hair peeks through the unbuttoned top of his shirt, to the strong column of his throat, to his pouting mouth, to his crimson eyes. Again, peering into him, you lose awareness, just for a moment, of the room around you.

He runs his tongue over his fangs and grins, predatory and feral. “Just let go, doll. I’ll take care of the rest.”

You glance at his mouth, biting at your own lips, heart stuttering. “Kiss me first.”

Grip tightening around your body, he captures your lips in a bruising kiss. You moan, unashamed and loud, against him. His mouth is rough, demanding; his sharp teeth catch at your bottom lip, not hard enough to draw blood but enough to remind you of why you’re here. Heat pulses through you.

When he pulls back, his eyes darken, lips parted and swollen. Your chest heaves. Fingers tightening in his hair, you chase his mouth, but he just chuckles and steps out of your embrace.

“Undress,” he says, peering into your eyes. “Then wait by the bed.”

A warm tingling sensation spills down your spine as his eyes seem to glow crimson. The weight of your thoughts seems to lift, ever so slightly. With a shiver, all you can do is nod, filled with the urge to comply.

Stepping out of your shoes, you tug off your clothing as quickly as you can, discarding the offending garments haphazardly, uncaring where they go. In the chilled air of the room, your nipples pebble. The thought occurs to you to touch them, let Crosshair see you play with yourself—a thought that is immediately dashed. That hadn’t been part of the orders.

You wrench your attention back to the current moment as you position yourself by the side of the bed as told. Against the far wall, Crosshair leans, fingers absentmindedly caressing the worn grip of a flogger, an amused smile playing across his face as he watches you.

“Good,” he says, and a flush of pride skitters through you. “Kneel.”

Even across the room, the weight of his chromatic gaze presses on you, and you again succumb to the warm, floating feeling as you drop to your knees. You rest your palms on your thighs. Crosshair approaches, toys left behind on the wall, and you crane your head back to maintain eye contact. One hand, long and cool and tender, caresses your face, thumb swiping over your bottom lip.

You lick his thumb, enticing him to touch you more, feel you deeper.

“Behave.”

The command washes over you and settles into your bones. The longer you stare into his eyes, the lighter you become, until all you’re aware of is the cold press of duracrete against your knees, the feel of his skin against yours, and those red, red eyes.

“That’s it,” he praises. “Open your mouth.”

You anticipate the words before they leave his lips and your jaw is open halfway through his statement, tongue sticking over your bottom teeth. It’s like you can feel what he desires of you before he expresses it aloud; the pleased expression that curls over his face makes you happy. You’re doing so well for him.

Crosshair leans over you, still fully clothed, and while normally you’d be concerned with freeing his cock from his pants, right now all you’re worried about is making sure you follow orders. Keeping your mouth open, your eyes never leave his.

He spits in your waiting mouth. “Swallow that.”

You do as told, thighs clenching together as you become aware of another thing: the slick coating of arousal dripping down your legs.

“Crosshair,” you whine, breathless.

“Patience,” he chides again. His hands move to undo his pants; you blink and his cock is fully free, swollen and flushed and drooping in front of your face. “Remember your safe word, pretty thing?”

It takes you a moment, sifting through hazy thoughts and muddled memories, but it comes back to you. “Meiloorun.”

“Good girl.”

This time, he doesn’t even have to voice what he wants from you. Once you drop your mouth open again, he slips the flushed tip of his cock past your lips. You hollow your cheeks, sucking on his leaking head, humming in contentment at his taste. Cross watches you with hooded lids, a flush blotching his neck and face. Stars, he looks good like this. You bob your head, fighting off your gag when he touches the back of your throat.

“Kriff,” he grits out.

You repeat the motion. The only sound you’re aware of is the wet suck of your lips wrapped tight around his length, and it only makes the wetness between your thighs grow worse. Whining, you sense the order Crosshair wants to give: stay still and let me fuck your face.

So you do. Cross’s hands come to rest on your jaw, cradling your head gently, and you breathe deep and even through your nose as he pushes his hips forward. Gagging, your vision blurs with tears as he holds you on his cock—and when he releases, you sputter, coughing.

“Filthy little thing,” he says, but the undertone of his voice is laced with praise. You flutter your eyelashes up at him, thick with tears.

For a moment, the two of you remain like that, a string of spit connecting you to his dick. His chest heaves, straining against the buttons of his shirt. Your eyes flicker away from his ruby gaze long enough to soak in the sight of his bulging muscles; his fingers on your jaw angle your face back up.

“On the bed,” he murmurs.

You rise to your feet and perch your ass on the side of the bed, your slick and aching cunt at the perfect level for him to sink into without any angling. Eyes on his, you sense what he wants—what he needs. You trail two fingers through your sopping folds to gather some of your juices. Spreading your arousal over his hard length, you whimper at the velvety feel of him in your hand.

“Such a good pet,” he croons.

He grips at your hips, yanking you forward so you’re supporting yourself by your elbows, entire body hanging off the bed. His jaw tightens as he rubs his cockhead through your folds, rutting into you, the tip catching at your entrance. You both moan.

And then he’s pushing into you, or maybe he’s pulling you onto him, but either way all you can feel is his thick length spearing you, deeper than you’ve ever had another partner before. His balls rest heavy against your ass as he holds you still, his fingers likely leaving bruises where he holds your hips. Your cunt flutters around him.

Another of his thoughts begins to form, and you sense it over your connection to him. Immediately you convulse, desire and pleasure rocketing through you.

“Yes, please, Crosshair, mark me,” you beg. “Show everyone who I belong to. Fucking bite me.”

Face contorting into a snarl, he snaps his hips against yours. His cock sliding nearly all the way out of you before he impales you once again, you let your head fall back, moans clawing out of your throat with every thrust. Stars, he’s so deep, reaching parts of you that you only ever dreamed of, and it makes your entire body light up with pleasure.

He continues to fuck you as his arms slip around your body, pulling you flush to him, supporting your entire body weight.

And then his mouth is on your skin. He sucks a trail of hickeys across your chest, lavishes your nipples with licks and love bites, skims his fangs over your hot, sensitive buds. You pant. Snagging his hair in one hand, you gently guide his head up to your neck, your actions an extension of the burning desire coursing through you both.

“Please,” you whimper, “please please please feed on me.”

“Kriff, girl,” he groans into you.

There’s a split second of overwhelming pain when his fangs sink into you—but it is immediately dispersed by a rush of pleasure so blinding that you think you cum. You can’t tell. Your mind is too far gone to fully process anything but the fact that his cock is driving into that one devastating spot inside you and that his lips are latched around the double-puncture wound in your neck as he suckles from your life-force. His thumb finds your clit and rubs it in precise, tight circles. Sobbing from pleasure and overstimulation, you cum again around him, body locked up as he fucks you through it.

“That’s it, just like that,” he praises, sounding absolutely wrecked, tongue smoothing over the bite mark on your neck. “K-Kark, gonna—”

“Please!” It’s the only word you’re capable of. “Please, please.”

He lifts his head, eyes finding yours once more, as he thrusts once, twice, thrice more before stilling, cock buried as deep in your cunt as he can get. As his length throbs in your soaked pussy, you can’t help the ragged whimper that tears from your chest at the sensation, nearly tipping you over the edge yet again.

Slowly you become aware of your surroundings again. Against your back is a plush, soft surface: the bed. Crosshair’s voice, still silky and raspy, but lacking the previous hard edge, caresses your ears. “Did so good, doll. Come back down to me.”

Blinking, you loll your head to the side. Lying next to you, Crosshair gives you the barest hint of a smile, expression softer than you’ve ever seen him. His eyes have returned to their usual amber smolder, his skin devoid of the pallid, waxy hue. His fingers brush your cheek.

“I hurt you.”

He doesn’t phrase it as a question. You reach with weak fingers to poke the sore wound at the base of your neck, wincing slightly but chuckling nonetheless. “I wanted it. It felt amazing.”

Settling his hand in the center of your chest, the two of you bask in the pleasant silence, studying one another. Faintly, music reaches your ears—the party is still going, and you can return when you’re ready. Crosshair slowly recomposes his expression into the neutral scowl you’re so familiar with.

“What happened, fully?” you finally ask.

“Mind control,” he says. “Sent you into a trance. Tried to, at least. Got carried away.”

His eyes drop to your bare body and you follow his gaze. A gasp escapes you. Oh, that’s so many more hickeys and marks than you expected. You’d been lost in the heady pleasure, the cloudlike feeling of drifting and only being tethered to the real world by his cock.

The thought makes you giggle; once you start laughing, you find it hard to stop. After a moment, Crosshair joins, his low rumbling laugh echoing with yours. You’ll get back to the party eventually. For now, you just enjoy the comfy bed and good company.

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#tbb crosshair x reader #crosshair x reader #hallowkink23 #mdfm hallowkink 23 #kinktober 2023 #midnight masquerade #rhiwrites #the bad batch x reader #tbb x reader #crosshair x f!reader #crosshair x fem!reader #vampire!crosshair #monster!clone au

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staycalmandhugaclone · 7 months

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You'll Have to Go Through Me Pt 6

Part 6 of You'll Have to Go Through Me, the next arc of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!

So... just a heads up: this is actually the end of this arc. Aaaand I intend to spend the next week or so working through a couple Asks. Sorry it took so long to get out - feel like I kinda struggled a bit with it, but I do be having some interesting thoughts (courtesy of a collab braining session with my hubby) for what happens next (because I clearly don't have enough upcoming Doc stories lol)

Warnings: Mild PTSF, guilt, reference to torture/gore, profanity, heated kissing

WC: 4,340

The sound of those crashing waves again lulled me into a false sense of nearness as I followed the well-trod path toward the beach, endlessly believing I’d finally glimpse a stunning expanse of oceans upon cresting the next ridge only to find another dune stretching out before me. The Marauder was empty when Crosshair and I had reached it, but he’d urged me to continue alone as he ducked inside with a parting “Try not to start another fight until I get there.”

Alone, there was no blessed freedom from my thoughts, nothing to distract myself from the ache each step sent shooting through my hip nor the way my hand throbbed, and I quickly found my strides quickening if only to escape that haunted isolation. Acknowledging that I’d had no real choice in what I’d done offered little reprieve from the nauseating guilt brought on by the memories, and I quickly found myself so lost in those thoughts that I might have run mindlessly into Hunter before noticing him had he not reached out to grab my arms first, wide eyes studying me expectantly as I turned up to him with a quiet gasp.

“I was just coming to find you.” He said after a moment’s hesitation, words drawn out with an unspoken question. He glanced briefly past me before those worried eyes turned back to mine.

“He’s at the ship.” I answered, straining to force my breathing to slow. I knew it was pointless, that he could hear the rapid thudding of my heart and quickly tried to change the subject. “Couldn’t have landed closer to shore?” Hunter barely acknowledged the feigned annoyance in my words. “Usually, people go to the beach to relax, not for a workout.” He was still for just a moment longer before yielding beneath my silent plea with a gentle smirk.

“And here I thought you were tougher than the other nat-borns.” He teased, and relief fluttered through my chest. “Need me to carry you, princess?” I scoffed and tread purposefully around him.

“Don’t tempt me, Mr Big, Scary Clone Commando.”

“‘Scary’?” He sounded far too pleased with himself as he fell in step beside me, shoulder bumping lightly against mine. “I can think of a couple better ways to describe myself.” There was nothing forced in the chuckle that escaped me as I looked up at him.

“Yeah? What? Like cocky? Vain? Over-a-” The word cut off with a squeal of laughter as he threw me over his shoulder.

“Sorry, what was that?” He hummed fingers intentionally toying with the oversensitive skin at my sides any time I tried to speak. “Can’t quite hear you over all that giggling.”

“Hunter!” I shouted, eagerly ignoring the flash of pain as my hands latched onto the thick muscle atop his shoulder blades to steady myself. “Put me down!”

“And risk wearing out our precious med’ika? Boost would never forgive me.” My cheeks flared red.

“Hunter!” I shrieked again, but he merely shook with his own laughter as he continued along the trail a few more strides before finally setting me down, haughty grin toying with his lips as his touch lingered on my arms to steady me. I tried to glare at him but couldn’t restrain my mirth for even a fleeting moment as I tried not to think on the ease with which his powerful frame carried me.

“What’s with the… Doc!” The concern in Wrecker’s voice instantly shifted to excitement as he looked down at us from atop the dune, and I sent him a warm smile that quickly broke into laughter once more as he skidded down the hill, plowing into me with a breathtaking hug that forced out a quiet “oof” as he lifted me off my feet.

“Yuh had me so worried!” He said, and I could hear Hunter’s quiet chuckle beside us. “An’ then you were gone when I woke up, and I thought-” He suddenly stopped and carefully put me back down, blush flaring up his neck. “You, uh… sorry if I… made yuh uncomfortable…” His loud voice faded into an almost embarrassed murmur. “Didn’t really seem like yuh wanted me to let yuh go, so I just…” He lets his words fade with a shrug.

“Wrecker,” I called softly, heart jumping when he hesitantly met my gaze. “Thank you for helping me last night... I think I really needed it.” His blush deepened, but his lips pulled into a shy grin.

“Jus’ glad it helped.” He replied softly, and he paused for just a moment, watching me with that knowing softness that spoke volumes of the darkness he knew lingered just beneath my smile, but he allowed me to hide from it in the warmth of his presence. “Now, come on! If yuh thought the last fish we roasted was big, wait ‘til yuh see this one!” My brow hitched in interest as he turned and guided me over that final dune, arm draped casually around my shoulders.

I’d never seen water so clear. Even from afar, bursts of color shown through that crystalline blue from endless stretches of elaborate coral reefs through which I could just make out blurred streaks darting in and out of sight as countless fish thrived in the immaculate landscape hidden beneath the gentle waves. A comforting wind toyed with my hair, carrying the scent of sun-warmed sands garnished with a salty tang that was somehow far more subtle than I’d anticipated. The nearly white beach stretched out in a graceful curve to my right before vanishing beyond the tree line, while ivory cliffs blocked passage to my left, great boulders from which protruded elegantly from the water where the current crashed against them in great flurries of sparkling droplets.

“Worth the hike?” Hunter goaded with that haughty smirk.

“Depends. Am I going to get eaten the second I dip my toes in?” I asked, shooting a sideways glance at him.

“Probably not.” The utter ease with which his smokey voice murmured those words drew a huffed scoff from me, eyes rolling slightly.

“Nothin’ out there we can’t deal with, at least!” Wrecker chimed, pulling me forward once more.

Nestled just within the shadow of palms near the base of the cliff, they’d dug a pit into the sand from which I could just glimpse the glow of coals beneath a familiar metal grate, and I didn’t doubt Wrecker had hauled it from the Marauder the instant one of his brothers suggested they prepare a meal. He was right. Only half of the massive fish they’d somehow caught fit atop the grill, the remaining half hung from a nearby tree, flesh protected beneath a layer of broad leaves, and it was easily twice as large as the one we’d cooked on Devaron.

“No swimming… Got it…” I muttered, noting the row of sharp teeth nearly the length of my hand, and Wrecker let out a warm chuckle.

“Predators such as this tend to prefer feeding at dawn or dusk, making it highly unlikely one would attempt to target you in the next several hours.” I turned to find Tech reclined against the trunk of one of the swaying trees. A pile of tool and parts lay at his side, gaze turned toward his datapad though it didn’t appear as though he was truly looking at it so much as looking away from me, and that realization made my heart drop.

“So, you’re saying there’s only a small chance I’ll lose a limb.” I replied, gentle smile warming my voice in a silent plea, and that smile grew when his eyes flicked briefly to mine, lips just twitching in a grin of his own.

“It’s unlikely, but, yes, there’s a non-zero probability.” He yielded reluctantly.

“I’ll go with yuh!” Wrecker offered.

“Maybe after breakfast.” His eyes lit up at my response.

“A’right! I’ve been dyin’ to try this thing!” With that, he released me to trot toward the freshly cooked meal with Hunter following shortly behind.

“How are you feeling?” I asked quietly, moving to sit down a few feet away from the Tech.

“I do not believe I’ve suffered any long-term effects from the electrocution.” He answered, gaze again shifting toward me for a fleeting, almost shy glance that piqued my curiosity.

“Given that ‘short-term’ technically includes anything up to a month, would you care to elaborate?” I drawled, turning knowing eyes toward him, and I couldn’t help but warm at the way his lips bunched up.

“There’s some lingering fatigue and occasional muscle weakness, but it is minor enough that I anticipate it to resolve without the need for intervention.” His fingers tapped against the screen, but his attention remained somewhere just beyond whatever data lay within the illuminated surface.

“I’m glad.” I sighed in relief. His jaw twitched, but he seemed to think better of what he’d nearly said and quickly silenced himself. I ducked my head pointedly toward him, waiting, and I watched his fingers fidget anxiously with the seem of his gloves.

“Hunter… told me that you… well, that you carried me… again…” I almost couldn’t believe the sight of red creeping up his neck. “I apologize if it’s been burdensome.” Beneath a guilt that made my heart twist, there was a note of… something in his voice… excitement maybe? I found myself eager to lean into that underlying emotion rather than let him drown in a guilt that had no place between us.

“Stand up.” I instructed suddenly, already pushing myself to my feet as well, hands absently swiping at the sand clinging to my legs.

“Excuse me?” That confusion broke whatever aversion had kept him from meeting my eyes, and I had to bite back the relief upon finally seeing that brilliant burnt honey looking back at me.

“Stand up.” I said again, hand flaring out for emphasize. He stammered a moment longer, mind racing to understand my motivation before hesitantly moving to obey me. Without giving him time to object, I tread across the single step between us, crouching down to hoist him over my shoulder in a single, smooth motion. His datapad fell half-buried in the sand as his hands darted out to my back, a sharp gasp catching in his throat, and Wrecker’s laugh boomed across the dozen yards separating us from the grill.

“See?” I called, voice free of strain despite the way my hip balked from the effort. “This is what I do, Tech. It’s not a burden – you’re not a burden.” I bounced gently on the balls of my feet for emphasize and couldn’t help but grin at the way his breath caught in his throat.

“Y-yes; quite; you… you can put me down now.” He stammered, long legs stretching for the ground.

“Nah. I think he likes it up there.” Hunter teased as he approached us, thoughtlessly cleaning his knife of fish residue. Though I couldn’t see the expression on his face, I felt Tech turn sharply toward his brother and didn’t doubt the rage surely burning through his eyes.

“I told yuh she’s stronger than she looks!” Wrecker boasted. He was carrying a massive chunk of flaky meat atop one of the tree fronds, but his attention rested solely on us, pride shining in his eyes that drew a huff of laughter from me. I knew the pilot could have easily forced himself free, that he only refrained out of either respect or a reluctance to risk hurting me in the process. Regardless, my intent was merely to prove a point so, rather than dragging it out, I carefully lowered him back down.

Face a vibrant red, he quickly straightened his blacks indignantly. With a gentle smile, I retrieved his datapad and held it out for him. His blush only deepened in that brief moment of glancing toward me before accepting it, but he let out a short breath and nodded, jaw taut against what looked like the threat of his own smile, and I couldn’t help but wonder if Hunter was right…

Before my thoughts could wander over that possibility, the Sergeant’s expression suddenly dropped into an unimpressed stare, attention locked onto something just passed my shoulder.

“Ah.” Tech’s brief murmur held the same dismissive resignation as I followed their gazes and had to bite back the grin that tried to pull at my lips. Crosshair had finally caught up with us, armor apparently left behind on the Marauder along with his shirt. There wasn’t an ounce of shame in his eyes as he looked at each of his brothers in turn before letting his gaze rest on me, and I couldn’t begin to feign indifference.

There was something feline in the way his body moved, the tantalizing interplay of immaculately sculpted muscles emphasizing his every stride, and I couldn’t help but remember how perfect they felt beneath my hands as he towered over me in those moonlit woods, the strength of them as his weight pressed me into that scratchy blanket. He was paler than most clones, but the soft caramel of his skin held a warmth that still left me craving its touch, its scent, his taste.

Swallowing back the flare of want, I finally yielded, looking at him with the hunger he’d so effortlessly sent burning through me, and the smirk that instantly lit his face robbed me of any doubt that he’d known exactly what he was doing when he left the ship like that.

“Hope you put on some sunblock.” Hunter called, voice almost bored, but the taunt did nothing to deter the sniper’s pride. Crosshair’s lips pulled into a sneer, but before he could offer a retort, Wrecker interrupted them.

“Ah, you guys can bully each other later. Let’s eat!” I let out a quiet chuckle before pausing, glancing first toward the beach and then into the trees.

“Wait… Where’s Echo?” I asked, and the simple confusion in my voice twisted into a haunting dread at the way Hunter’s jaw tensed.

“He’s at the ship.” Crosshair answered, and I just caught the hard glare he shot his brother before schooling his face back into a nearly impassive disinterest. “Didn’t want to deal with the sand.” I could have pressed. I could have demanded they tell me the truth, admit that he was avoiding me rather than play into the lie, but I knew nothing would come of it. He didn’t want to see me. Nothing I said would change that simple hurt.

“Guess someone’ll just have to bring him some fish later.” My vain attempt at nonchalance fell painfully short, prompting a heaviness to the air around us that made my skin crawl. Drawing a quick breath, I turned my attention to the pile of meat Wrecker had carried from the fire. “Let’s not let it get cold.”

“What are you working on?” Short conversation had murmured between the brothers as we ate regarding empty speculations on where we might be sent next, if we’d be granted time to rest before the next mission, muttered complaints about how long it had been seen we’d found ourselves in an actual city, but as the meal ended, a less oppressive quiet settled between us.

Wrecker, stomach full and body warmed beneath the brilliant sun, lay dozing nearby while Hunter was busying himself with climbing the nearby cliff for a better view of the island. Crosshair had seated himself just near enough to me for his knee to occasionally brush mine, though he offered no reaction to those hidden touches as though they’d occurred by mere chance, so I pointedly turned my attention to the now nearly completed device in Tech’s hands. His eyes darted toward me for just a moment upon hearing my question before returning to his work.

“A tester scomp of sorts.” He stated absently, attention focused on piecing the remaining sheath atop the intricate series of wires. “This should grant us some warning against another malicious failsafe such as what we encountered at the outpost.” My interest instantly piqued, relief pouring through me for a worry I hadn’t realized I’d had. There was a time I would have been shocked that he’d been able to create something out of whatever lay about the Marauder, but I’d long since learned not to think such limitation to be a hindrance to the man before me.

“You think it’ll be able to trigger whatever trap that was?” I asked, voice hushed beneath a desperate hope.

“I’ll need to test it first… but, yes. While I doubt they’d attempt the same strategy twice, I believe caution is the appropriate tactic going forward.” Some of his words were drawn out, as though he’d nearly forgotten he was speaking as he finished attaching the final piece. Before I could reply, he pushed himself to his feet. “Excuse me – I’ll need to use the Marauder to verify it’s efficiency.”

With that, he quickly disappeared among the trees. With Hunter mere feet from the distant lip of shockingly pale stone and Wrecker making barely a sound as he slept, my mind revolted against the silence. It was too easy to fall back into the memory of those screams, to hear the crunch of bone in the sound of waves crashing against sand. As though I could feel him studying me, I glanced over to find Crosshair’s eyes trained on mine, and I briefly feared he could hear the way my heart raced.

Dismissing that worry, I hid my panic beneath a tiny smirk and let my gaze flick pointedly into the rich rainforests blanketing the island before looking back toward him, intent clear in my gaze. His brow twitched ever so slightly, jaw tensing beneath a want I was too eager to lose myself in. Without a word, I silently pushed myself to my feet, relieved to hear him following in my wake.

Barely a half dozen yards separated us from the tree line before his arm wrapped around my chest, and I couldn’t hold back the thrilled gasp as he pulled me flush to him, hunger instantly bursting through me at the heat of his powerful form. My hands automatically darted up to clasp his forearm, head tilting back to rest atop his shoulder as my lips readily pulled into a wide grin. I expected him to kiss me, felt myself shifting eagerly in anticipation, but he merely held me like that, watching me with a quiet that I couldn’t help but still beneath. His free hand slowly reached for me, fingers trailing lightly along my jaw.

Only after my body relaxed into him, intoxicated by the gentleness of his touch, did he kiss me, and I instantly found myself relishing in how quickly the world around us faded. It was effortless; forgetting the very existence of reality beyond that moment as I hid in the euphoria of his taste. Seeing him from afar, watching the sharpness of his glare, how readily that impatient scowl stole over his unapologetic face, assumptions of rough hands and sloppy lips were easy to imagine, but Maker, nothing was further from the truth.

Even now, despite my clear willingness for him, his every move held a reverence, as though convinced each second was its own revelation of some treasured secret revealed only through soft touches and the subtle dance of his kiss, and how could I not lose myself in him when he held me like that? The conviction of his worship forbade even a whisper of self-doubt. I felt cherished in a way I’d never before known, and it left be breathless, floating weightless in his embrace.

When he pulled back, haunted eyes searching mine for something I couldn’t begin to understand, I found myself torn, desperate for more of him while grasping for some means of ridding those amber eyes of whatever worries drew that subtle crease between his brows.

“You going to tell me what happened on the beach?” It wasn’t quite a whisper, but there was a softness to his raspy voice that would never cease to send that burst of heat through my chest. Still, I couldn’t begin to reach for an answer, mind still lost in the rush of his kiss. “You looked like you were about to start pacing.” He pressed, and I would have turned from him if I could remember how to feel shame over the want burning through me.

“It was too quiet.” I murmured, and from the way his gaze darkened, I didn’t doubt how thoroughly he understood.

“Not sure how I feel about you only coming me to when you have something you need to forget.” The regret that coiled in my stomach nearly ruined me, instantly sobering me of that thoughtless need as I withered beneath the threat of hurt in his voice.

“Cross…” His name fluttered from my lips absent any hope of finding some means of quieting his heartbreaking betrayal as I turned to face him, hands reaching up to whisper against his jaw, but I couldn’t deny what he’d said, and he knew it. I wanted to sob at the hesitation vainly hidden beneath a growing annoyance.

“Wait…” I barely breathed the hushed murmur before forcing some memory of strength back into my voice as his eyes turned pointedly away from me. “I… You’re right.” I loathed the way those words clawed up my throat. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to belittle this… us…” The fleeting urge to remind him that he’d offer me exactly that: a distraction, sat atop my tongue, rancid and bitter as I ached beneath the guilt of allowing him to feel like this when he’d so effortlessly filled me with that perfect bliss.

“I did look to you as a way to get away from…” Unwilling to force the nightmares into words, I motioned vaguely toward my head before returning my hand to his cheek. “But I swear, Cross… I don’t just want you for that… I want you.” My fingers shifted carefully against the rough stumble, subtly willing him closer to me. “I want you.” I whispered those tiny words with the full breadth of love that danced beneath my skin from his every touch, with the wonder and glee that burst through my chest at even a brief glimpse of his smile.

He didn’t fight me as I gently pulled him down to let my forehead rest against his, and I savored the intimacy of that closeness, thumbs gently sweeping across the ridge of his cheekbones. I didn’t try to claim his lips again, nor did I move to covet the tantalization display of his toned physique laid bare before me. In that moment, I needed nothing more than for him to believe me, that whatever relief his body might grant mine in a fit of passion paled beneath this; the simple act of holding him, of yielding beneath my want for his nearness and knowing he gleaned the same comfort in holding me, and when his arms slowly wrapped around my waist, I couldn’t suppress the shuddered breath that tumbled past my lips, my own arms instantly reaching out to lock around his broad shoulders.

“Do you want to go back to the beach?” I didn’t pull away as I let the words flutter through his hair after granting us a long while to merely bask in each other’s embrace. Without a word, he shook his head, and then his mouth was on mine. A tiny gasp caught in my throat as the sudden touch but found myself desperate for it, breath faltering in a whimper as his earlier tenderness quickly ceded beneath that hunger I’d so wanted to succumb to just moments prior.

He pressed harder into me, crowding me until I had to lean back, frightfully dependent on his touch to keep from falling, and I didn’t try to quiet the moan at that first caress of his tongue. His hand dropped down my waist to slide around my thigh, tugging the limb up to wrap around him, and I could feel the way he smirked at how easily he had me clinging to him.

“Say it again.” It was meant to be an order, but I could hear the need in it, and I offered no hesitation.

“I want you, Cross.” Murmuring the words against his lips, my fingers tangled into his hair, grip tightening just enough to emphasize my desire. Arm tightening around me, he stood up, hauling me effortlessly from the ground. Ignoring the ache of those barely sealed wounds, my other leg jerked up to lock around him as well, barely noticing the deceptively rough bark of a palm tree pressing against my back as my core burned from the heat radiating off him. Just as his hand began creeping beneath the hem of my shirt, a voice called out from the beach, rudely sending reality crashing back around us.

“Keep your clothes on.” Lips twisting into that familiar snarl, Crosshair let out a nearly growled breath, obstinately refusing to set me down.

“The kriff do you want, Hunter?” He shouted, refusing to so much as glance in the direction of his brother.

“We have to head out – wheels up in ten.” Disappointment replaced whatever embarrassment had begun darkening my cheeks, teeth catching about my lip as my body sank beneath a heavy sigh.

“What?! Why?!” He demanded, finally twisting his head back to stare at the foliage still protecting us from view. I tried to free my legs, but his grip only tightened, so I merely waited for his denial to cave.

“Orders came in.”

“We aren’t back from our last orders.” It was a useless objection, and he knew it, but his frustration forbid him from yielding so easily.

“Yeah… these aren’t for us.” Something about the reluctance in Hunter’s voice sent a chill down my spine, and I could feel Crosshair tense with that same apprehension. “They’re for her.” His annoyance instantly vanished, gaze darting to me with a confused dread that I couldn’t help but mirror.

Continue Reading (Extra Scene)

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daisies-daydreams · 5 months

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Someday (Crosshair x F!Reader)

Pairing: Crosshair x F!Reader

Category: Angst/Comfort

Warnings: Depiction of Death, Implications of Sex, Swearing, Love Confessions, Internalized Negative Beliefs, Emotional Relief, Crying for the First Time

Word Count: TBA

A/N: A belated birthday present for @maybethatfanfictionwriter based on one of our conversations 🥳 I hope you enjoy!

Song Rec for This Fic: What Was I Made For? (Billie Eilish)

Crosshair remembers staring at the scattered bodies of his deceased brothers once the smoke cleared. There was a heaviness inside his heart, but he always thought it was from the fading adrenaline of battle. He remembers the faintest hint of satisfaction when he easily took out droids (especially when he was competing with Wrecker), but it was always a fleeting feeling.

But most of all, he remembers the way Regs stare at him. The creases of their face always written with a disgusted dread, nostrils flared as they scowled at the tall, lanky man. The sniper would feel a burning sensation ignite in the pit of his stomach as a bitter taste washed over his tongue.

Out of all of the feelings he experienced, bitterness seemed to linger inside him the most. It was an expression he wore on his face often: the disgust so many threw his way thrown right back at them. Bitterness he could identify with ease. Everything else seemed like he was brushing his hands through a thick fog, an intangible vagueness that made his scowl deepen.

But then…he met you. Crosshair had just stirred awake, a blinding light shining in his dark eyes as his head throbbed. The man blinked a few times before his vision focused on a pair of bright eyes and a gentle smile. Crosshair knitted his brows as an unfamiliar warmth flood him from head to toe, especially in the tips of his ears and the surface of his cheeks.

“You’re awake!” you beamed.

That warmth only continued to grow each time he saw you, a medic stationed on Kamino. The relationship started as simple stress relief, a string of trysts that left both of you satisfied for the time being. And yet…each time the two of you snuck away to your office or quarters, it only made it harder for him to ignore the feelings that welled deep inside his chest.

Tonight was one of those times. Both of you stowed away to a new place: an observation tower located far away enough that no one would see you at this hour. He had just returned from a particularly difficult mission and wanted nothing more than to feel the embrace of your warm body. The furious gray clouds tumbled and rolled outside, flashes of lightning illuminating your soft features as he captured your lips in a heated kiss. You were lying on your back, your hair fanning around your beautiful face like a halo. Crosshair gasped for air when he pulled back, his hands resting by your head as he gazed into your eyes. There was a pressure building inside his chest, one that made him open his mouth without even thinking.

“I think I love you,” he blurted out. A crack of thunder rattled the tower as his heart nearly slowed to a stop. The way you were looking at him…wide eyes and shocked face…made the bitterness return to his tongue. Did he say something wrong? Of course he did, it wasn’t like the two of you were courting.

The world froze when he felt your warm lips lay against the inside of his wrist.

“I love you, too, Crosshair,” you whispered with a soft smile. He instantly shot up and scrambled to his knees. His heart pounded inside his ears as his hands trembled. “Crosshair?” you asked as you sat up. The white-haired man backed away, his palms beginning to sweat.

“I-I-“ he stammered as his throat tightened. He didn’t know if his life was in danger or if he was thrilled beyond belief. There were so many different directions his mind was going-it all felt too fast for him to keep up with. Just as you reached towards him, he shot up to his feet.

“Crosshair wait!” you called for him as he rushed towards the elevator. Crosshair slammed his fist against the buttons, not caring where it would take him. He met your broken gaze as the doors quickly shut, the carriage taking him down to the lower levels of the facility. His heart seemed to sink along with the movement of the elevator as he braced himself against the wall.

He’s never lost control like that-never. Surely there had to be some kind of explanation, right? Perhaps it was the stress of his most recent mission, or maybe the lack of sleep he’s had lately. Yes, that had to be it…that had-

The ding of the elevator broke his train of thought as the doors slid open. He was at the bottom most level where they kept the supplies. Crosshair took a deep breath as he walked inside the dark room, his body feeling incredibly, undeniably small.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he berated himself as he slinked behind one of the shelves. The soldier took a shaky breath as he sank to the ground, his legs slightly spread apart as he clutched his head.

Crosshair’s heart had stopped pounding inside his ears a few minutes ago, his breathing steadying as he licked his dry lips. He stiffened when he heard the doors to the elevator open with a low hum. The sniper’s face hardened as he heard the sound of soft footsteps grow louder as a person entered the room. His scowl was quickly replaced with a solemn frown as you came into view. The whites of his eyes nearly drowned his restricted pupils as another roar of thunder shook the building. You slowly sank down to your knees.

“What?” he sneered, his tone laced with a bitterness he never intended for you. His heart melted when you cupped his chin and tilted his head up, your expression warm and kind as you stroked his cheek.

“I wanted to make sure you were alright,” you said softly. Crosshair felt a lump swell in his throat, an unbearable pressure growing deep within his chest and eyes. He nodded slowly as you tilted your head. “Can I sit?” you asked. The sniper grunted as he hesitantly scooted over, his hands bracing the cold floor. He nearly flinched as you sat next to him and folded your arms above your knees. A brief pause lingered between the two of you.

“I mean it, you know,” you suddenly broke the silence. Crosshair kept his eyes on the floor before shifting them over. You smiled softly. “When I said ‘I love you, too’,” you clarified as you straightened your posture. The sniper’s lips fell into a straight line as he nodded. “Can I ask you something?” you questioned. He shrugged, afraid his caustic tone would drive you away. You bit the inside of your cheek as you tilted your head.

“Was that the first time anyone’s ever told you that?” you asked. Crosshair’s breath hitched as time slowed to a standstill. He felt like he couldn’t move a muscle before his eyes began to sting. Suddenly, his vision began to blur as searing tears began to trickle down his cheeks. You immediately wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as the pressure inside his chest loosened as he gasped.

The trickling soon turned into pouring as he shivered in your comforting hold. You said nothing as he choked and sobbed, his red cheeks stained with glossy trails. You cooed and rubbed his back as the emotions came rushing over him like violent tidal waves.

“I-I don’t understand,” he murmured in a strained whisper. It was the first time he’s heard those four words intended for him…and only him. Hunter was stoic yet could easily pick up any woman he desired with his charm. Tech was always more reserved and didn’t seem to bother with such things. Even Wrecker-a huge, loud brute-was seen as lovable by some.

But him? He was always scowling, always quick with a scathing remark, always ready to pull up any means of defense as the years of bitterness swelled inside him. He was bred to be a soldier and nothing more. How could anyone love something like him?

Crosshair sighed as he tilted his head up.

“How…how could you love me?” he muttered almost sharply. You stopped patting his back. He was afraid you’d berate him for his sudden question, turning his head away from you.

“Because you’re loyal,” you pressed your lips to Crosshair’s sharp cheek. “And witty,” you continued before kissing his temple and smoothing your hand over his shoulder. “Honestly, we’d be here all night if I listed all the reasons why I love you,” you confessed with a sheepish grin.

“I love you, Crosshair,” you whispered. Crosshair clung to you, his tears soaking the sleeve of your shirt. A simple sentence that completely broke him-made him shatter into a million pieces. And yet, there was a certain freedom as he allowed himself to fall apart for the first time in his life. Crosshair felt wave after wave of tears rush down his face. You cooed and held him close, rocking him as he sobbed.

“It’s going to be okay,” you assured him. Crosshair sighed as he pulled back. You gave him a soft smile as you wiped at his cheeks. “Why don’t we turn in for the night? I think some rest would do us both good,” you suggested. Crosshair nodded, his thin body feeling sluggish and heavy, yet also light as air. He held your hand as you guided him back to your quarters. Little words were said between the two of you as you prepared for bed, though Crosshair was silently thankful for the space you allowed him. You smiled warmly as you crawled beneath your covers, the tall man not far behind you.

“Goodnight,” you whispered before kissing his lips. Crosshair has never felt so much warmth within his heart as you continued to hold him, your face pressed against his chest as you quickly fell asleep. He sighed as he smoothed his hand through your hair.

“Goodnight…and thank you,” he muttered as he pecked your forehead before drifting off into a deep, peaceful sleep.

————

Thank you for reading! 💖

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starrylothcat · 1 year

Text

Unspoken

🔥NSFW🔥Crosshair x Female!Reader One - Shot

Summary: You and Crosshair struggle with feelings as your stress relief agreement becomes more than anticipated. 2500 words.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+. Minors DNI. Kinda angsty. Unprotected consensual sex. Brief mention of wound and blood, not detailed. Reader is a doctor but it doesn’t really matter at all for the plot.

Author’s Note: I wanted to post this last week, but then re-wrote the entire thing. Whoops. Haha. It was supposed to just be shameless smut, but then I accidentally added ~feelings. This is my first time writing smut, trying to get the hang of it. 😘

For all the Crosshair girlies, I hope you enjoy. We love our emotionally unwell sniper. I’m an absolute sucker for soft Crosshair. Please let me know what you think! ❤️❌

You laid back on your bed and let out a large sigh. This is a little pathetic, _____ you thought to yourself, staring at the ceiling. You were waiting. For him. It was late, and the only sound in your small room beside your sigh was the Kamino rain hammering against the window across from your bed.

You had…a thing…with the sniper. It started off as purely transactional to blow off steam. He annoyed the kark out of you, sure. But you couldn’t deny you had feelings for him. And you guessed he liked you too in a way, since he kind of started this. He was the one to kiss you first, after all.

You smirked to yourself at the memory.

After months of back and forth, biting comments and eye rolls, resisting your medical care, it all boiled over. You don’t even remember what you were arguing about, but you do remember his lips suddenly on yours. Messy, fervid. You gladly accepted.

It was an intense night of passion, releasing all the pent up tension you had for one another that had been building ever since he first stalked in to your medical office on Kamino.

After, you both knew once was not enough. You initially agreed no label, no attachment, if this were to continue. What are we, Jedi? You thought bitterly. It just made it easier, or so you thought at the beginning.

At first, your couplings were wordless and intense. Just two people desperate to feel something during the war. It was for him to forget the day’s mission and for you to forget the thoughts of sending men off to their deaths.

He was unrelenting and vigorous, and you didn’t mind.

After, when you laid next to each other, gasping for breath and covered in sweat, he would leave without a word. Once again, you were fine with it.

At first.

Slowly, feelings began to swirl in your chest. You knew you shouldn’t, but it was getting increasingly more difficult.

Especially since Crosshair was starting to make it more difficult. Sometimes, he’d lay next to you longer afterward. Sometimes, his kisses would be softer, catching you off guard from his usual fiery lips on yours, especially if he had been gone on a longer than usual mission. Or, when he would be getting dressed, he’d mention a few things about his next detail with his brothers. He was a man of few words, so when he spoke, you listened.

You caught your own words in your throat a few times, almost asking him to stay. Instead, you’d just bid him a good night. He’d nod with a grunt, his intense gaze lingering for a moment, before disappearing through your doorway. Sure, he challenged you at every turn, but you began to see past his immense walls he had built around himself. You picked away at them when you could, when he let you. You could see a man desperate for connection far beneath his sometimes glacial exterior. You would give that to him, if he let you.

But he was like a wild animal. Any sudden movement could scare him away forever. You’d rather continue what you had than ruin it by trying to make it more than it was. The problem was, you did want more. But did he?

You sighed again, turning on your side. Rain continued to pelt the small window in your quarters. You knew he’d be knocking at your door soon.

The white, sterile halls of Kamino were empty, except for Crosshair who stood in front of your door, his hand raised, prepared to knock. He was here for his debrief with you. He had just returned from a particularly rough mission, and was here to get lost in you. Your ritual that began as just stress relief was turning in to something more, and deep down he knew it. He considered not knocking, and sulking back to bed. Maybe it was time to cut this off. It was getting harder for him to stomp down the new feelings he was experiencing, and it frustrated him. Scared him, even.

He had sought women in the past for sex, but it was always brief. Never any feelings. No interest in any sort of relationship whatsoever. He couldn’t even remember their faces, and never saw them again after. But you. You were different, and he hated how he caught himself thinking of you. Longing for you when he was in his bunk at night, far off on a mission. Or how when he returned, he looked forward to when he could slip away from his brothers and feel your lips on his. Crosshair knew you wanted him to stay some nights, but the thought of getting any closer meant more feelings, more longing. More hurt.

He was waiting, no expecting, for the day you finally had enough of him. The night that he knocks on your door and you don’t answer, proving to himself he was destined to be unwanted. But that hasn’t happened.

He tightened his jaw and clenched the fist that was still raised to knock. He chewed on his toothpick for a moment before bringing his knuckles quickly to your door.

Three fast knocks at your office door brought you back to the moment. It was him. You stood up from your bed, adjusting your hair in your reflection of the small window. Like he even cares. You thought, knowing the second he steps through the door how your hair looks will be the least of his or your concerns. You walked out of your bedroom that connected to your office. You composed yourself for a second and opened the door. Crosshair silently stepped in.

Before the door was fully closed behind him, he had his lips on yours. He quickly pinned you against a nearby wall, his mouth devouring you in a desperate, intense kiss.

He lifted both of your legs, pressing even closer to you as you locked your ankles around his waist, wedging you against the wall. You let out a quiet moan as his codpiece pressed wonderfully between your legs, where heat was pooling, embarrassed by how quickly he could turn you on. He growled as you bucked against him, your hands flying up to grip the back of his head, digging in to his silver locks. He tore away from your lips and gave you a dark, heated look. “This desperate for me, hm?” and began sucking and biting down your neck, which elicited another moan from your mouth. You could feel his iron grip on your thighs tighten even more as he lavished your collarbone. That’s when you noticed a gash on his head, still fresh from the mission he just returned from. “Your head…” you gasped as he was bringing his lips back to yours. “Don’t worry about it.” He growled and pulled away from you, his pupils blown with lust. “Bed, now.” You tried to protest but he carried you across the room to your small bedroom. He unceremoniously dropped you on the bed as he began to strip his armor. “Crosshair wait,” you sat up on your elbows looking at the wound on his head, near his ear. “Let me see that.” He was now in his blacks, staring down at you, his arousal painfully obvious. Don’t. Worry. About. It.” His voice was deep and husky, laced with desire. Crosshair was on you again, tugging your tunic off your torso. His eyes widened a little, realizing you had no bra on. “You really are desperate for me, doc.” A small smirk tugged at his lips as he latched on to one of your nipples, causing you to throw your head back in pleasure.

You wanted respond to him, to say the only reason your bra was off was because it was the end of the day. But maybe it was also for him, knowing he would find you tonight.

But any thoughts left your head as he brought up a free hand to massage and pinch your other breast as he relentlessly nipped and sucked at the other. “I don’t know…” you gasped, your mind spinning. “You seem pretty desperate for me, too.” Crosshair suddenly stopped his attention to your chest and shot a look at you, and if looks could kill, you’d definitely be dead.

Before you could think of another smart remark, your pants and panties were off, and Crosshair’s head was between your legs. He gripped the flesh of your thighs and pulled them open. “Enough talking.” Crosshair’s hot breath spread across the inside of your legs, causing goosebumps to prickle up your body. Crosshair brought his face closer to your already wet heat, and ran his tongue painfully slow across your folds.

You gripped the sheets and arched off the bed. “C-Cross…” you almost shouted as pleasure shot up your spine, any thoughts in your head now fully gone. Another thing he hated himself for: he relished how his name sounded when it left your lips. He wished he could hear it every night.

He gave you a quick look from between your thighs, and then continued to torture you with his slow pace. How could you not fall in love with someone who made you feel like this?

Satisfied with your moans, Crosshair picked up his pace. You could feel your release building in your lower belly. “I…I’m…” you panted, unable to form any coherent thoughts as you reached your peak. Though sometimes he could be unreadable, cold even, he was not selfish in the bedroom whatsoever. He always made sure you came first, so there was somewhat of a gentleman buried deep inside him.

Crosshair’s tongue swirled around your clit, finally bringing you over the edge with just his mouth. At this point, he knew exactly how your body worked. You cried out his name as your body convulsed, your legs turning to jelly, white hot pleasure flooding your senses. His gloved fingers dug wonderfully in to your soft thighs, leaving small marks. He continued to lap you up, even as you came down from your high. “That’s my girl” he rumbled as he removed himself from between your legs, wiping your slick off his chin. That was another thing that was happening. Your nights of passion were becoming more vocal. Mumbling passionate praises to one another, no longer wordless. Am I your girl?

“Crosshair, please, I need you. Now.” You begged. You didn’t care if you actually sounded desperate now. You wanted him to know how much you truly wanted him.

He removed himself from between your thighs, and stripped himself of his blacks, his eyes never leaving yours.

You suddenly felt vulnerable, his gaze piercing straight through you. Your heart thudded as he climbed on top of you, his hard manhood pressing against your opening. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you.

Crosshair hovered over you for a moment, his arms caging you in, and looked like he wanted to say something. Instead, he kissed you again, but this time it was softer. You still didn’t know what this meant, but you happily played along. You brought your hands to his head, gently brushing over his scalp. He gave a small moan, a moan you hadn’t heard before. You continued your soft touch to his head, hoping to pull another moan from him, and you accidentally grazed the wound you were still worried about. He winced and brought his lips away from yours, like he suddenly realized what he was doing, stopping himself. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

Crosshair came back to his senses, his eyes dark. He suddenly and roughly took both of your hands and pinned them above your head. He couldn’t be soft. He couldn’t let himself get too attached. He almost slipped. He looked at you, your face flushed, your hair fanned out across your pillow, your naked chest heaving with desire. You were beautiful. But he couldn’t say it out loud. He wanted you to be his, and only his. But he didn’t know how to tell you. Or if he even could.

“Turn over.” He grunted, releasing your wrists and quickly turning you over on your stomach in one motion. Before you could say anything more, he was gripping your unbearably soft hips and pulled your pelvis up, entering you in one thrust. You gripped your bed sheets as he began a brutal pace, the only sound in the room being his body slapping against yours and your gasping moans. He was hitting a deeper and deeper spot with each thrust, your vision almost going white. You knew what he was doing, he couldn’t bear look you in the eyes in this moment. He had almost cracked. And you were okay with it, savoring his louder and louder grunts as he was nearing his peak. You couldn’t look at him in the eye right now, either. You were afraid you’d say something you might regret. Stay. I care. Let me in. Please. Words that Crosshair wanted to hear, but didn’t think he deserved.

Your knuckles were white, you nails digging in to your palms through the sheets you were grasping. Crosshair’s hips began to stutter, he wasn’t able to hold back anymore. His hands released your hips and he brought his torso down on to your back, his arms propping him up on either side of your head, his hands near yours that were gripping the sheets.

In a moment of pure vulnerability, his body reacted instinctually. His senses where overloaded with you and all the feelings that came with you. The good feelings, the frustrated feelings. The feelings he couldn’t process. He moved his hand and grabbed yours that was knuckling the sheets. You were so lost in pleasure you barely noticed, but immediately released the sheets and his fingers laced with yours.

The feeling of his weight in top of you, the sudden action of his hand holding yours brought you over the edge. The sound of your second orgasm filled his ears, your pussy clenching around him causing him to fall over the brink. Crosshair came deep inside you, his body trembling. You heard him utter your name as he pressed his weight on top of you momentarily, coming down from his own intense high, your hands still entwined. This action said more than he ever had.

You both laid there for a moment.

Or minutes.

You couldn’t tell.

You could feel his labored breath on your neck, his head resting next to yours. His hand was still on yours, and you dared not move. Finally, he sat up, his hand sliding off. He laid next to you on his back and you turned on your side, looking at him. You wanted to say something. You wanted him to say something. This was more than just sex now. It was out in the open. You decided to take the leap, and say what you’ve wanted to for a long time. “Crosshair…” you whispered. “Don’t leave.”He slightly turned his head and his eyes met yours. You slowly placed a hand on his chest, tracing a small line down his pectoral. Please. He began to sit up, and your heart sank, panicked this was the end, that you both had taken it too far. He had shown you a side of him that absolutely no one had seen, and you were worried he’d be gone for good, severing this before the feelings really took hold. Finally, he spoke. “Well, are you going to patch up my head? Unless you want me bleeding all over your sheets the entire night.” The entire night?

You smiled softly, trying not to show too much excitement in your expression to his admission. “I don’t mind. The sheets are already dirty.” He huffed, but still not getting out of your bed. “Some doctor you are.”

You could see the faintest trace of a smirk pulling at the side of his lips. You got up to quickly grab a bacta patch from your med kit. When you returned to your room, Crosshair was laying down again, his arms crossed on his chest. You tended to his wound as he laid there, accepting your gentle touch. After, you laid down next to him. You were still waiting for him to suddenly pop up and run out the door, changing his mind. But he stayed.

You woke up the next morning, and Crosshair was already gone. His side of the bed was perfectly made, the pillow neatly placed, the sheets tucked in on the side. It was like no one was ever there. But you remembered sometime in the early morning the ghost of a kiss on your temple, your name being uttered. You remember reaching out, brushing your hand against his as he turned to leave. All the unspoken words were now loud and clear. You were his. He was yours.

Author’s note: Thanks for reading! Tagged as requested, the lovely @wanderer-six ❤️

#the bad batch #the bad batch fanficfion #crosshair x reader #crosshair x you #crosshair x fem!reader #crosshair tbb #crosshair the bad batch #starrycatwrites #crosshair tbb x you #crosshair tbb x reader #the clone wars fanfiction #Star Wars #Star Wars fanfiction #crosshair smut #the bad batch smut

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literallydontlook · 1 year

Text

Atonement - part 1

Pairing: Crosshair x f!sex worker!reader

Rating: Explicit (minors, skidaddle)

WC: 5.7k

Series summary: After Cody deserts, Crosshair comes to terms with his place within the Empire and the things that he’s done in its name. As the inhibitor chips begin to degrade, his building guilt finally pushes him to defect himself. Life on the run is harder than he imagined, but he’s found moments of comfort and true peace from an unlikely source. Can he ever atone for the crimes he’s committed or is he condemned to a lifetime of guilt?

Series CW: canon typical violence, swearing, sex work, lots of negative self talk, PiV, masturbation (m and f), probably oral at some point; reader has a back story but no physical descriptions; lmk if I missed anything

Unwhitewash the bad batch disclaimer: these guys are straight up white in the show and that is not ok with me. My descriptions and headers are made to combat canon designs. If you don’t like that pls leave.

A/N: SOOOOOOO ONCE AGAIN I’m on my Crosshair shit even though almost 0 of my followers are here for this. I wanted to explore what it would take for him to find redemption. TO BE CLEAR a lot of the stuff he says on the show and his attitude and superiority complex in canon are straight up disgusting, but I can’t help but wonder if I’d be strong enough to defect if I were put into a similar situation. In an age where we are so quick to condemn people for their mistakes (god knows I’ve made my share), how can we nurture the good in people instead of pushing them farther away? Also I was horny lol

—

Sharp eyes scan the cantina over the rim of his drink. Others are like him — sitting at tables obscured by the darkness. They’re scheming and dealing, keeping low profiles as they search for their next gigs. The dim lighting blurs their faces and the air is hazy with smoke. But Crosshair still sees everything.

But he also listens.

“…Black Sun…—ot take kindly to…”

“…we’ll need a qui—….to pick off…”

“I don’t want no part of…-mperial control…”

There are a number of promising-sounding leads and he indulges in a little bit of cautious optimism. It’s been 2 months since he’d defected and two rotations since he’s eaten. He never thought he’d ever miss the Imperial slop they served at the mess, but it’s starting to sound pretty good right about now. His stomach rumbles.

Finding jobs was proving to be more difficult than he’d anticipated, especially for a man looking to disappear from the Empire. Most bounty hunters belong to the Guild, but he can’t risk leaving that kind of a record. It leaves him with the kinds of jobs that are actively avoiding official channels.

A spineless-looking gentleman dressed far too expensively for the establishment looks over his shoulder before taking a seat across from Crosshair. He runs a hand through greasy, slicked back hair and fiddles with the gaudy rings on his fingers, twisting them nervously. Crosshair acknowledges him with a silent nod.

“That’s quite a rifle you’ve got there,” he says, attempting to sound nonchalant.

Crosshair hums in response, taking a sip of his drink. The man looks around again and dabs at the sweat around his neck before leaning in.

“I’m looking for some help,” he says, voice lowered to almost a whisper. There’s an awkward silence as he waits for a response but he’s met with Crosshair’s usual brand of stoicism.

He waits for the man to continue and it takes almost all of his willpower not to roll his eyes and scoff. “What’s the job,” he asks finally.

“Ah, yes — well, I’m looking for someone who can be discreet. This cannot be traced back to me,” he says, looking over his shoulder again, “and my associate spoke very highly of you.”

Crosshair narrows his eyes. “And who, exactly, is this associate?”

He leans further over the small table, lowering his voice even further. “Gini Millegi,” he whispers conspiratorially.

“Hmm…” Crosshair considers this information carefully while absentmindedly stirring his drink with a toothpick. Millegi was a notorious gangster in the region who’d hired him for a hit just a few weeks ago. Something about rival gang politics — he couldn’t care less, to be honest. The pay was good and the job was surprisingly easy. What more could he ask for?

The man clears his throat and Crosshair’s returning glare nearly burns a hole in his forehead. “Go on,” he says impatiently. The man jumps in his seat and pats down his pockets nervously.

“The target will be at Safa Toma, just across town tomorrow.” He frowns, mumbling something to himself before exclaiming, “The little brat — she can’t just waltz in here out of nowhere and take our family’s hard-earned fortune! Who does she think she is?!”

He closes his eyes and places a hand over his heart dramatically.

“My father is not long for this world and she needs to be eliminated before he passes.”

Crosshair holds up a hand, “Spare me the details. What’s the bounty?” He didn’t need to hear a long winded story about greedy families vying for an inheritance. The less he knows, the better.

The man sits back and huffs indignantly. “Five thousand credits. Double if you can make it look like an accident.”

Five thousand credits. That's enough to buy some stability for at least a month. He locks eyes with the man and something in the pit of his stomach turns as he considers the proposition. It sounds easy enough, but he’s learned quickly that in this line of work, nothing is ever as simple as it seems.

Especially when the client is avoiding official Guild channels.

His stomach grumbles.

“Fine. But I want fifty percent up front. Those are my terms,” he says, leaning back and folding his arms across his chest. “You won’t find a more discreet hunter.”

The man hesitates, chewing on the inside of his cheek in consideration. Finally, he reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a coarsely woven bag. He sets it on the table, but his hand lingers over it. “How do I know you won’t just run off with the credits?” He asks with narrowed eyes.

Crosshair plucks it from below his palm. “You don’t.”

—

Safa Toma is boisterous, a hub of raucous activity and a host of unsavory characters. The main draw is riot racing, a dangerous sport akin to Tatooine’s pod racing with the addition of officially sanctioned weapons usage. Crosshair had heard of it. Many clients in his new line of work were enthusiastic participants with racers of their own, but he’d never had an interest. The place is decidedly too cacophonic for his taste.

He peers at the stadium through his scope, searching for the reflective discs he’d strategically placed the night before. With any luck, he’d be able to mask his location with a shot rebounded from the opposite direction.

He’s perched high on an abandoned building, several kliks away. By now, the toothpick dangling from his lips is gnarled and ready to snap. He can’t shake his nerves and the vague feeling of foreboding he’s had about this job. His commlink crackles to life.

“The target is en route to the viewing suite. Do you remember the hand signals?” His client’s voice is low and his speech is rushed, nervous and impatiently demanding some sort of comfort to placate his anxious energy.

Crosshair rolls his eyes before responding. His scope swings across the stadium in search of a group matching the provided description. An older, heavier-set woman with a severe expression and dressed impeccably. Another woman in expensive robes and perfectly coiffed hair carrying a small child. And two greasy-looking men in suits wearing jewelry worth more than Crosshair’s entire ship.

“I have a visual. Awaiting your signal.”

The link goes silent as he watches the client dart out from behind a column and speed walk down the hallway to catch up, arms pinned rigidly to his sides in a ridiculously short strut.

So much for playing it cool.

Now that they’re all together, it’s clear that these people are the client’s family. The resemblance between him and the two men is unmistakable. And they’ve all clearly inherited the older woman’s chin, who he figures is their mother. The connection to the younger woman and the toddler is less clear.

He’s focused on tracking the group but registers the sound of stray blaster fire and a unified gasp from the crowd. The announcer’s voice booms and even from this distance, Crosshair can hear it.

“A friendly reminder to all our spectators: be mindful of blaster fire. Safa Toma Speedway is not liable for any injury, death, or disintegration. Thank you.”

He absentmindedly rolls his toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other. Hmm, he thinks, that’d be a convenient cover if the timing is right. Maybe I can double the bounty after all.

Steadily, he follows their movements with his scope until they reach the suite. The two men plop down on a luxurious looking sofa and turn on a large screened TV, where they’re able to watch several sporting events at once. The client pulls out a seat next to the window for the younger woman and Crosshair tenses in preparation, recognizing that this placement is surely intentional. She must be the target.

She sits and places who Crosshair assumes is her daughter on the ground. The child toddles towards the window, pressing her small, chubby hands against the glass, looking down at the speedway with wide, innocent eyes.

He exhales a stuttered breath and closes his eyes.

The kid will be fine, he reassures himself. The family’s loaded anyway.

When he peers through the scope again, he sees the client approach the child, kneeling down to meet her eye level. He places a hand on her shoulder and gestures down toward the track with three fingers, wagging them three times.

Crosshair sucks in a breath.

The hand signal.

Maker. What in Malachor has he gotten himself into? The toothpick snaps between his gritted teeth as he focuses on the small child. She ohs and ahs, clapping clumsily as the speeders pass by. And as if she knew he was there, she turns towards Crosshair’s position, looking straight into his scope and smiles.

Finger hovering over the trigger, he contemplates the job. He’s so close to the easiest payout of his life, but he’s struggling to make the shot. His head begins to throb violently.

Just do the job.

The faces of every innocent child he’d ever executed flashes in his mind.

You must do what needs to be done.

“You know what makes us different from battle droids?”

Just fucking pull the trigger.

“We make our own decisions. Our own choices.”

You were born for this.

“And we have to live with them, too.”

The pain crescendos — an acute, stabbing — until he can’t take it anymore, releasing his rifle with a clatter as he grits his teeth and sits back, hands gripping his scalp and eyes squeezed shut.

He can’t do it.

He won’t.

—

It’s late by the time Crosshair arrives at the agreed-upon meeting spot. The sun has long set and the only respite from the bite of cold evening air is the occasional puff of putrid-smelling steam released from an underground pipe. He leans against the damp alley wall, eyes cast downward. Anger and frustration swirl but at who and about what? He’s not sure.

His brooding is interrupted by the splash of stomping feet approaching. The client is cloaked, a hood pulled over his head, but Crosshair doesn’t need to see his face to know that he’s pissed.

“What the kriff happened back there?”

“You failed to mention the target was a child,” he growls, jabbing a finger into his chest.

The client, seeming to forget Crosshair’s physical advantage in this altercation, doubles down on his outrage.

“What happened to ‘spare me the details’?!” He shouts, slapping away the accusatory hand. “What part of non-Guild work do you not understand?”

The toothpick in his mouth snaps in frustration, knowing it’s his own fault for taking this job, so he only responds with a silent glare.

“I’m not a child murderer,” he seethes. He pulls the burner commlink from his belt pocket and throws it on the floor, crushing it under his heel.

Not anymore, he thinks.

The client rears back with his jaw hanging open. He points a condemnatory finger towards the sniper.

“You —“ he shrieks, “you’ll pay for this.”

“Enjoy the fucking credits. I hope it’s worth it,” he says darkly before spitting at his feet and disappearing into a mysterious speeder just arrived at the end of the alleyway.

The leather of his gloves squeak as he tightens a fist and inhales slowly through his nose. He exhales a steadying breath and closes his eyes.

At least he’s got the deposit.

The coarsely woven bag sits heavy in his other hand but lifts a weight from his shoulders. Enough credits for a few weeks. He stares blankly at it until his stomach protests, reminding him that he’s close to death. He lets his feet take him to his next destination.

His boots splash murky puddle water as he mindlessly travels to the closest source of food. The shop is crowded but the warm, comforting smell of stewed nuna and protatoes is too enticing to ignore on such a frigid night.

He waits in the crudely formed line outside. There’s no indoor seating, only a dark window where credits are exchanged for a piping hot bowl of stew passed anonymously by a clawed hand. A Rodian man shoulders his way past Crosshair and anger flashes hot in his chest before the hollowness in his weakened limbs reminds him of his vulnerability.

The air is moist by the time he gets his bowl, the hazy fog settling heavily and blurring his surroundings. He finds privacy in an unoccupied alley to enjoy his meal and absorb its warmth. After the first taste, his eyes widen before he tilts the bowl back and gulps the stew ravenously, nearly choking on the large chunks of meat.

He tosses his trash into a dumpster and begins the long trek back to his ship, docked outside the city’s limits. He hasn’t had enough credits for docking fees and had been making the long journey into town by foot each day.

He absentmindedly scans the fliers posted to a communications pole. It seems like a popular spot judging by the absence of any free space. Some locations are stacked thick with flimsi and everything is damp from the dewy droplets formed on the metal shaft. Many fliers are out of date — faded and torn, pasted over by newer announcements and ads.

Lost Tooka - REWARD. Last seen at central market.

Waste removal services. Discreet and quick. Comm for pricing.

Rhodian Underground LIVE at the Spotchka A GoGo

Midtown Inn — long term and nightly rates available

Crosshair digs into his utility belt, fumbling for the credits. Weighing the bag in one hand, he deliberates his lodging options as he calculates the cost of ship repairs and ammo and food. His body aches and the thought of sleeping on a real bed is tempting, to say the least.

He looks at the time, knowing he’s got another hour or so until he reaches the ship. He makes a spontaneous decision to stay in town, allowing himself to indulge for one night. It’s a short walk to the Midtown Inn, but by the time he gets there, the “no” has been illuminated on their vacancy sign.

He sighs. Just his luck.

He runs a hand over his head, his shoulders sagging in defeat, as he looks around for another option. The immediate surroundings look like a bust. Just closed businesses shuttered for the night.

The inn itself is tucked into the neighborhood, surrounded by a maze of small streets and alleys that eventually link up to the main road. He’s not sure anymore what the fastest route would be so he takes an educated guess and follows the small road past more closed shops below crumbling housing, using the tracking equipment in his vambrace as a guide.

He’s so focused on the little red dot on the radar that he nearly misses it.

The repeating pattern of one junk building after another is finally broken by a small pathway nestled between two closed restaurants. It’s remarkably void of trash. In fact, everything he can see of it from the road is uncharacteristically pleasant. He stares at it for a long time, looking back at his vambrace to determine if this could lead to the main road.

He approaches it skeptically, standing at the mouth of it and finding it to be very well maintained.

Cautiously, he follows the path, each side flanked by tall, solid stone walls that tower even above his significant height. They’re lined with lamps hung close to the ground where they cast a warm, otherworldly glow, keeping most of the way shrouded in darkness. The tranquility here is a sharp contrast to the grit of the rest of Ord Mantell City. He feels as if he’s entering a secret space and he’s careful to stay vigilant as he travels deeper down the path.

Finally, he reaches a crossroads. To the left, the path continues, turning sharply around a corner and out of sight. To his right stands a nondescript two story building, perhaps a house. On one side a large tree’s branches reach up and over its flat roof. And while the walls are painted a dark color, adding to the home’s mystery, there’s something welcoming about it. There aren’t many windows, but the lights are on in most of them, the curtains all drawn shut. Barely visible, painted in a hue just one tint lighter than the walls, is a small sign reading “House of Desire - walk ins welcome” in aurebesh.

Ah.

He thinks again about the credits in his pocket. Doesn’t he deserve one night of relief? He could certainly use it.

Reluctantly, he approaches the door and stands at the entrance. The cylindrical eye of a TT-8L gatekeeper droid extends abruptly from the peephole, focusing on Crosshair’s face before quickly retreating with a slam. The door slides open.

The entryway opens directly into a comfortable living room with a plush sofa set behind a low, circular holo table. A set of stairs runs parallel against the back wall where he sees two sets of legs disappearing up to the second floor. An older pantoran woman stands regally at the center of it all, her hands clasped low in front of her body.

“Welcome to the House of Desire. How can I help you?” She asks, motioning for him to take a seat.

Crosshair reluctantly approaches the sofa, carefully unholstering his rifle so he can sit comfortably. The woman seems entirely unbothered by his armored appearance and weapon as she takes a seat across from him.

“Can I offer you anything to drink? Perhaps an herbal tea?”

He simply nods and she immediately comms someone to bring them a pot.

“It’s your first time here, I gather,” she says with a smile, tapping the table’s control panel and projecting a menu of options. “Let’s start with some questions,” she suggests.

Crosshair visibly stiffens and she smiles knowingly, “Don’t worry, we understand the…sensitive nature of our business. There's no need to divulge your full identity here, only what’s necessary to ensure the safety of our girls.”

He hums in acknowledgement as she asks him for a name, to which he declines, instead opting for an identification number — ironic choice for a clone who’d only ever wanted to be recognized as a person, but different times and all that.

She conducts a full health screening, including a body scan for signs of contagious infections and disease. Finding him healthy, she takes note in his registration file as she explains the rules of conduct within the House. He agrees, signing his newly issued identification number.

“Alright, that about does it,” she says, navigating the holotable program to a roster of the House’s available girls (although the word “girls” is a fairly restrictive industry term it seems, as the catalog features people of all life forms and genders). He peruses a catalog of full body, three dimensional holos, each one including detailed information about their specialties, likes, and dislikes.

The options feel endless and he swipes through each one almost mindlessly, trying to narrow down his criteria. It seems like there’s something for everyone here.

He’s on the verge of making a random selection until one catches his eye. He’s not sure exactly what draws him to you specifically, as many of the girls are what he’d consider pretty — he wouldn’t have a hard time getting in the mood with many of them, truthfully. But there’s something about your entry that makes him stop and piques his interest more than the others.

He silently glances at the madame and she smiles, making note of his selection in his file and sending a message to you.

“Oh, you’ll like her,” she says, pulling a small card from the holo table. She hands it to him before inviting him to follow her up the stairs.

“This is your membership chit. Bring it whenever you visit,” she explains, “you can also plug it into your data pad to make appointments with or contact any girls you’ve had sessions with before.”

He pockets the chit as they walk up the stairs and down the hall to a door marked simply with the number 04.

She knocks gently and a voice answers from within, granting permission to enter. The door slides open to a dimly lit bedroom awash in the dreamy, soothing glow of candlelight. Taking a tentative step inside, he immediately feels his tense shoulders relax as he breathes in the light scent of jogan-blossoms and Felucian jasmine. The gentle plucking of strings, the song more atmospheric than melodic, plays quietly in the background.

“Enjoy your visit.”

Crosshair whips his head around, startled from his reverie by the madadme’s farewell. She shuts the door with a swish, leaving him suddenly feeling very self aware of how dirty his armor is.

“Please make yourself comfortable,” a voice calls from the adjoining refresher, “you can store your rifle and armor in the wardrobe. Unless you’d prefer to keep it on.”

Still hesitant, he finds the aforementioned wardrobe and shrugs off his weapon, next unclipping each piece of armor slowly. Once down to his bodysuit, he looks around the room feeling uncertain about his decision but ultimately resigned to it. He sits down on the sofa, hands clasped together and body hunched over, one leg bouncing anxiously in anticipation.

“Well hello there.”

He stills before finally lifting his gaze. Fuck. You’re even more beautiful in person. The holo doesn’t do you justice.

You walk towards him slowly, exaggerating the sway of your hips, each step shifting the hem of your deep red negligée in the most tantalizing way. This thing was designed specifically to send him to an early grave — he’s sure of it.

You stop in front of him, trying to suppress a smile, mirth dancing in your eyes. He realizes his jaw has been hanging open and he shuts it immediately, averting his eyes. Caught.

“May I?” You ask with a chuckle, motioning to the seat beside him. He continues to avoid your gaze but nods once.

Cautiously, you lay a hand on his bicep.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed,” you coo, “you can look. Isn’t that why we’re both here?”

He’s got a lot of shame and pride, you think to yourself when he doesn’t acknowledge you.

You smooth your hand up to his shoulder and down his back, feeling the defined muscle beneath your palms.

“Let’s get the boring stuff out of the way first,” you say, shifting to a more businesslike tone. He finally turns to look at you. “Lay down some ground rules and talk about what you want to do.”

You forge ahead. “I ask all my guests to wear a biosheath for the duration of our sessions.” You reach into a jar sitting on a side table, pulling out a foil packet and handing it to him. He accepts it with a silent nod and you smile, pleased that he seems unphased by this request. A good sign.

“Additionally — and I’ll understand if you’d like to find another girl — I will not kiss my guests on the mouth.”

Crosshair raises a brow, surprised by this rule, but nods in agreement. You sigh with relief.

“At any time, you and I are able to renegotiate any activity if either of us begins to feel uncomfortable.

I like to use a color system. Red means stop. Yellow for proceed with caution. And green for go. Does that work for you?”

Another nod.

You laugh. “Talkative I see.”

He shoots you a withering look and you laugh harder.

You move to stand in front of him, using a gentle hand to push him back against the seat.

“Relax,” you say lowly as you swing a leg over his lap to straddle him, running your palms up his firm chest. “Is this okay?”

You grind your hips down against his experimentally, feeling him grow hard beneath his pants. His breath hitches and you take this moment to firmly place his hands on your waist.

“Is that a yes?” You ask, only to be met with obstinance and his silent, piercing gaze. You tsk, “I need to know you want this.”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes, “why else would I be here?”

What a brat.

“People come here for all kinds of reasons,” you explain, soothing your hands over his shoulders. “Some people come to watch or be watched,” you grind down again, nipping at his ear, “some people just want me to hold their hand.”

“Now,” you whisper, “what about you? What do you want?” You ask, letting your breath fan against his neck. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat attempting to adjust himself, but there’s no hiding how turned on he is beneath the skin tight bodysuit.

Truthfully, he hadn’t thought this far. The entire journey had been fairly spontaneous and he didn’t think he’d have, well, options. He’s never had options before. Not any so straightforwardly given anyway.

You crawl off of his lap, dancing your fingers along his shoulders as you circle the sofa to drape your arms around him from behind. Your hands explore his upper body and you feel his muscles begin to relax when you massage his neck.

“I…want to watch you,” he says finally. “And then I want to fuck you until you scream.”

You hum in agreement. “That sounds like a good plan. You’re so tense,” you muse, digging your thumb into a particularly large knot. He groans involuntarily — something between pleasure and pain.

“How about a massage first? Then you can watch me play with myself.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, palming himself over his pants. You smile impishly.

“I’m gonna take that as an enthusiastic ‘yes’,” you tease, leading him to the bed and slipping your fingers below the hem of his top. He pulls it over his head, and you nearly gasp. Brown skin pulled taut over some…significant muscle development has your eyes bulging. You thought his body suit was leaving nothing to the imagination but apparently there was much more to see.

Maker, you think to yourself.

It’s now his turn to smirk, making you look away embarrassed, caught off guard.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed,” he teases, “you can look. Isn’t that why we’re both here?”

You roll your eyes. “Get on the bed.”

He doesn’t respond, but he smirks at you knowingly as he lies face-down.

“So tell me,” you start, massaging the scented oil over a particularly nasty scar across his shoulder blade, “what do you do for work? I’m guessing you’re a bounty hunter.”

“…something like that,” he answers evasively. You hum thoughtfully, finally deciding to cater to his preference for silence as you work over his tired muscles.

He sighs and you smile to yourself, pleased to be able to offer this man some relief. You crawl onto the bed, swinging a leg over his hips to straddle his back as you continue.

Your fingers work into a tattoo of a skull over the number 99 written in aurebesh and you wonder about its meaning knowing you shouldn’t push him too much. The man is like a stray, injured tooka — skittish and deeply suspicious but desperately in need of affection and attention.

“What? No more inane questions?”

You chuckle - Maker this man is infuriating. “Tons. But I won’t pry. You’ll tell me everything I want to know in your own time.”

He scoffs, “Awfully confident, aren’t we?”

You only smile and hum in response as you dig your fingers into a particularly tense knot of muscle. He hisses, turning his head in an attempt to scowl at you. You laugh.

It’s not everyday you’re actually attracted to a guest, but there’s definitely a level of sexual chemistry here that’s unusual for your experience. His kriffing back of all things is getting you hot and bothered. Without even realizing it, you begin to grind yourself down on his ass, your breath growing heavy as you mewl softly.

Crosshair can feel you becoming needy and it makes him feel ready to burst. He’s been rock hard since you’ve entered the room and he knows that if he so much as ruts into the mattress he’ll come in his pants like some shiny fresh from Kamino.

He growls, finally flipping you over and caging you in between his arms.

“I said I wanted to watch,” he breathes, pupils blown wide with lust. You swallow and nod, almost paralyzed by his hungry gaze, before he releases you.

He pulls up a chair and takes a seat, lounging with his legs spread wide and one hand cupping his bulge. Grabbing the hem of your negligée, you begin to pull it off but he stops you suddenly.

“Leave it on.”

He looks like a king. The way one arm drapes casually over the seat’s back. The way his eyes devour you. Everything about him thrills you, shooting electricity down your spine. It’s been ages since you’ve felt this nervous energy performing for a guest.

You make a show of it. Biting your lip and massaging your breasts. You tweak a nipple and mewl in pleasure as your chest begins to heave with heavy breaths.

“Fuck, kitten, yes” he groans, using every ounce of self control not to stroke himself, “play with your pretty pussy. Show me what you like.”

Obediently, you sit back against the pillows, letting your legs fall open to put yourself on display. You pull your soaking panties to the side and run your fingers through your glistening folds to gather the wetness. Without breaking eye contact, you bring them to your lips and dart your tongue out to lick them before sucking with an obscene moan.

Crosshair grinds his teeth together so hard they nearly break. He doesn’t even know what to focus on anymore. The outline of your pebbled nipples through the silky fabric? Your lips wrapped deliciously around your fingers? The other hand rubbing circles over your clit?

“Fuck your fingers,” he demands, voice painfully strained. You obey, releasing your fingers with a pop before plunging them into your cunt. “Such a fucking good girl,” he praises.

You can’t help but to cry out in frustration as you try to reach that impossible place within you, working both hands feverishly to chase your high.

“That’s right, kitten, is that how you like it? Add another finger for me,” he grits.

You comply, panting heavily, your eyes screwed shut in pleasure. Before you know it you hear the violent clattering of the chair being upturned. You feel his hand wrapped around your wrist, yanking your hand away. Your cry of frustration quickly morphs into one of pleasure as he plunges two fingers into your tight hole, scissoring them until you snap, coming with a scream as his fingers fuck your through your high.

By the time you’re able to see him again through heavy lids and the aftershocks of your orgasm have subsided, he’s desperately rolling the biosheath down his thick cock.

“Hands and knees,” he rasps, barely in control of his desire.

You scramble to obey, arching your back deliciously and presenting yourself to him with a wiggle of your ass. He kneads your cheeks, reverently admiring the way his fingers sink into the plush meat there.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes. Fuck me,” you respond breathlessly.

Grabbing you firmly by the hips, he finally guides himself into your waiting heat and, finding no resistance, sheathes himself to the hilt in one stroke.

You both groan in unison as he stretches you open for the first time.

He hunches over you, fondling your breasts. “I won’t be gentle,” he whispers into your ear. He feels your walls clench around him as he ruts into you.

“Good,” you breathe.

Fuck, you’re going to be the death of him.

Raising himself back up, he grips your hips and begins to pound into you mercilessly, taking out years of pent up frustration as his fingers dig deep into your flesh. For the first time in a long time, he feels in control, using you for his own pleasure.

“You’re such a fucking good girl. Listen so well. Letting me destroy this tight cunt,” he growls.

You can do nothing but grip the sheets as he pistons his hips into you, the bed frame slamming into the wall with each thrust. You’re sure the other girls can hear it. The lewd squelching. The slap of his hips against your ass. Your pathetic moans. Apparently this man is silent except during sex.

“Yes. I’ll do anything you ask, sir. Make me feel so good,” you mewl. His rhythm begins to falter as he reaches his high, finally plunging himself deeply as he comes undone. His release triggers your own and you scream, your walls clamping down on his cock, milking him until he’s spent.

Panting, he pulls out, carefully removing the biosheath and disposing of it, only to collapse back onto the mattress when he returns.

“Maker,” you breathe with a hand resting on your sweaty forehead, “that was —that was…“ you laugh in disbelief as you struggle to catch your breath. He doesn’t respond so you enjoy a moment to come down from your high.

The candlelight is beginning to dim as some candles flicker out. The music has long since reached its last track. The two of you lay in contented silence for some time as you softly caress his bare skin, walking your fingers up his arms and smoothing your hand down his back in soothing motions.

You get an inkling when you feel his pliant body first becoming tense beneath your touch.

Before you know it, he’s trembling, his shoulders shaking more and more violently as he begins to sob. It starts as silently but soon devolves into wretched cries, his voice rough with pain. You gather him into your arms, letting him hide his face in your neck as you cradle him, gently rocking your body until you both fall asleep.

—

By the time your alarm chirps and the sun begins to stream in through the curtains, he’s gone. You wake up to an empty bed and a stack of credits on the nightstand.

You lay back down, clasping your hands behind your head and sigh contentedly.

You wonder if you’ll ever see him again.

—

A/N: 🫠 uh i Guess i hope you enjoyed?

#tbb #the bad batch #crosshair x reader #crosshair x fem!reader #tbb crosshair x reader #atonement #crosshair x f!reader #crosshair smut

156 notes · View notes

lady-pug · 10 months

Text

Copikla

Summary: Crosshair hates you, Clone Force 99’s new on-board medic. He doesn’t understand how you can be so sweet, kind and happy all the time. His brothers seem to have taken you in as one of their own quite well, but he can’t seem to let his guard down around you. But maybe, just maybe, you’ll grow on him as well.

Pairing: Crosshair x Reader

Word count: 3,4k

Warnings: none, other than Crosshair being a major asshole sometimes

Notes: Okay, I loved writing this one! I really wanted to write a /Reader dynamic based on Pixie and Brutus (by @pet_foolery) and Crosshair instantly came to mind. I already have ideas for at least 2 more installments for this series, so I really hope you enjoy this (this is pre-Echo btw). Just on quick note, here’s the Mando’a translation for Cross’s nickname for the reader:

Copikla - charming, cute (babies and animals - never women unless you want your head ripped off, but c’mon we all know Crosshair is a bastard)

I really hope you, dear reader, enjoy this and have fun while reading it. If you spot any mistakes, please feel free to warn me and I'll correct it right away, and feedback is always welcome and appreciated. I hope you truly enjoy this story.

Reader is female, but no physical descriptions provided

(Also, thank you so so much for the overwhelming support on all the other fics I posted here, it means the world to me!)

Next part | Masterlist | Read on AO3

Crosshair couldn’t stand it.

It had been three standard months. Exactly 105 rotations since this nightmare started. He had been against it from the start, they had Tech, why would they need a kriffing medic in the first place?

Wrecker’s boisterous laughter, accompanied by softer, quieter giggles, reminded him exactly why.

A mission in Mon Gazza had gone terribly wrong (well, GAR high command considered it a success, as they had managed to secure their objective, but in the eyes of the members of Clone Force 99 it had been a total failure). In an attempt to locate and secure a target who had informed the Republic they possessed vital information on the inner command of Separatist forces, things had turned sour very quickly. A run in with the Pykes had thrown a wrench in their plans of making a quick escape, and a precarious explosion too close to Wrecker (not armed nor controlled by him this time around) had almost cost him his life.

Rushing him to the closest Republic medical base, a specialist had to be called in due to the severity of his injuries. The medic, they were later told, was the same one who had operated on Commander Wolffe of the 104th after his face-off against Asajj Ventress on Khorm. Back then, although she had not managed to save his eye, which had to be replaced by a cybernetic one instead, she did manage to recuperate just enough brain tissue around the area of the injury to save him from possible decommission (as if General Koon would ever let that happen). The head surgeon on base assured the Batch that Wrecker was on the best possible hands.

And, as it turned out, they had been right. Wrecker had woken up a few days after a soak in the bacta tank with no more than extensive scarring on the left side of his face, partial hearing loss and almost total eyesight loss in his left eye (“Nothing some tinkering with his helmet’s visor cannot fix.” Tech had said). All in all, he was as fine as one could be after such an event.

Even if the mission was a success and Wrecker was still alive (although a little uglier than before, according to Crosshair’s lighthearted teasing), their officials had decided they were too reckless (no matter how many times Hunter had emphasized on the mission’s report that the explosion was collateral and not at all Wrecker’s fault in this specific case) and should be accompanied by medical personal at all times, assigning them an on board medic. Commander Cody interceded in their favor, knowing they wouldn’t work well with a clone medic, and requested a natborn. In the end, the very same medic who had treated Wrecker had volunteered for the job.

That had been three months ago. You had adapted well to the life on board the Havoc Marauder. His brothers, the fools, had immediately been hooked on your charms, but not him. Oh, not him.

Crosshair hated you.

You were sweet, too sweet. Sweet enough to give him cavities. It wasn’t possible for someone to be that happy and cheerful and kind all the time. You were always smiling, you always indulged in Tech’s info-dumping. Always laughed at Wrecker’s awful jokes, always let him have your sweet flavored ration as a second desert. Always took over for Hunter when his senses were overwhelming him, helping him get comfortable in the safety of his bunk and dimming the lights.

And he wasn’t an exception. Even with all his bitter words and snarky comments, you were always nice to him. No matter how rude he was to you, you were always kind in return. You smiled in his direction in the morning. You kept him company while he was on watch duty. You were, he loathed to admit, a nice person overall.

But Crosshair didn’t believe in free-niceties. There was no way you were that sweet just out of the goodness of your heart. Surely there was something wrong about you, he just had to find out what.

Crosshair was cleaning his rifle for the umpteenth time that day and desperately trying to ignore the sweet timber of your voice as Tech taught you how to conduct minor repairs around the ship. It had been your idea, selfless as always, as in doing so you could help him around and reduce his workload if Tech was ever tired or injured after a mission.

Try as he might, Crosshair couldn’t ignore the endless seam of chatter coming from the two of you. Tech would go on long tangents about specific parts and their functions and you’d engage by asking questions and have him explain things further. It was enough for him to roll his eyes and grip the rag in his hand tighter.

As his mind drifted off to the mission they had just finished he almost didn’t realize that the ship had become silent. Thank the maker. He finally relaxed against the cold durasteel wall. That is until he heard footsteps approaching the crate he was currently sitting on.

“Hey Crosshair!” you greeted cheerfully, to which he sighed painfully.

You waited a few beats before addressing him again.

“So…” you smiled softly at him. Ugh.

“What?” he answered, contempt dripping from his tone.

“Tech and I are making a quick run to the local market. We’re all out of resistors and he doesn’t like to leave the stock empty.”

“I’m busy.”

“Oh.” for a moment you sounded just a tiny bit disappointed, and he thought would finally leave him alone, but no such luck “With what?”

Instead of answering, he simply looked from you to his Firepuncher and back to you, a frown on his face that clearly meant to ask if you were stupid or something.

“But…” you smiled awkwardly ��You’ve been doing that for the past hour.”

“So?” he only kept on scrubbing his rifle, the rag no longer clean and rendered useless.

“Well, we thought you might want to come with us! You know, it’s sunny outside and that is such a rarity for us. I think it might do us all some good.”

“You thought wrong.” he spat.

“As a matter of fact,” Tech piped in from behind you, like he hadn’t been listening in to this whole conversation “it is scientifically proven that sunlight does help to stimulate the production of vitamin D. So this walk would, indeed, be beneficial for all of us, including you.”

“Come on, Cross! It’ll be fun!”

Something about the way you said his name, this little nickname you had given him, made something inside him snap.

“Haven’t you heard when I said I’m busy?!” he snapped, throwing the rag on the ground “I don’t want to go on a kriffing walk!”

You visibly deflated in response to his words, your smile falling from your face.

“I’m sorry, Crosshair.” you said, voice much quieter than before “We won’t bother you anymore.”

As you walked away, Crosshair tried to ignore the glare his brother was sending his way as he picked the rag from the floor and resumed his cleaning, even if the Firepuncher was glimmering and pristine.

Only when Tech was also out of reach did he allow the tension slip from his shoulders with a heavy sigh.

Great.

His head was killing him. He had a splitting headache from working in the snow all day, the light reflected by the white, glimmering floor of the planet they were currently stationed for a stakeout mission hurting his already sensitive vision. If this was how Hunter felt when his senses started overwhelming him then he actually pitied his brother and sergeant.

All he wanted was to take a sonic in the fresher and then crash on his bunk. But as he left the cockpit his nose picked up on something… different. As he sniffed the air around him he realized something smelled good around the ship.

Whatever it was, it had a sweet smell to it. It was sugary and soft and comfortable, almost like- he shuddered as he realized where his mind was taking him. Like you , his brain filled in for him against his wishes. The sweet scent in the ship reminded him of you.

He shook his head to rid himself of those horrendous thoughts and decided to investigate. Whatever was making this smell was something new, nothing like he ever experienced before, and he’d be damned if he didn’t find out what it was. As he walked further into the hull of the ship, he came to a halt as he came face to face with you, Wrecker and Gonky.

“Hey Crosshair!” Wrecker’s booming voice called out for him “Tech modified Gonky to work as an oven and Doc here is making cookies for us!”

He took a moment to notice your appearances. Both of you were wearing matching checkered aprons, albeit Wrecker’s was a lot more covered in flour than your own. Similarly, Gonky had a few specks of brown sugar all over itself.

“Cinnamon and chocolate chips! An authentic Alderaanian recipe.” you smiled at him, so sweetly he could bet if he were to take a bit out of you you’d taste just like those cookies “We’ve only just managed to fit one batch at a time inside of Gonky, the other one still needs kneading. Would you like to help?”

He sneered, almost offended, and started walking towards his bunk.

“I’d rather try taking an ackley in a fistfight.”

“Oh. Well, the first batch is almost ready, would you like one?” you asked, not at all unsettled by his harsh words.

“I’d rather eat shredded glass.” he answered with the most nonchalant shrug he could muster as he walked past you and into the bunk area.

Right as he was about to punch the controls and close the door, he heard the softest, quietest sniffle, followed by Wrecker’s voice, a lot quieter than it usually was, trying to console you.

“Don’t mind him, baar’ur’ika. He is like that with everyone. He’s just a grumpy, mean di’kut.”

As he finally closed the door, he couldn’t help the twinge of guilt growing in his chest.

“Let me take a look at that, Cross.”

Crosshair huffed, storming inside the Marauder, his blacks soaking underneath his glistening armor. The Batch hated missions in Donovia, its rainy nature often reminiscent of that in Kamino, an annoying reminder of the only thing they had to call home. There wasn’t a single mission there that didn’t leave them soaked to bone.

“Crosshair!” you stormed in after him.

“What is it, Copikla?” he sneered, turning back towards you.

Once he realized you weren’t going anywhere, no matter how hard he tried to push you away, he came to terms with the fact that there was no other way than to embrace your presence instead of ignoring it all together. However, he decided to make his displeasure known to anyone who would listen, especially you. As one of his first deeds towards you, since you decided to grant him a nickname, he thought it was only fitting to give you one right back.

“Your shoulder is hurt. Let me take a look.”

Crosshair sighed, annoyed. During the mission, while he kept an eye on the scope to ensure his brothers didn’t get their shebs killed, a surveillance assassin droid managed to get a hit to his shoulder, the blaster bolt grazing his skin beneath his shoulderplates before you, who had been doing the lookout with him, got your own hit in, eliminating the droid. Great, he thought, now he was in your debt .

And since that very moment you’d been nagging his ear off about checking his injury.

“It was just a graze,” he dismissed “nothing to worry about.”

You huffed back at him, chest puffed in indignance.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” you waved the medkit, the one you always carried around, at him “Now take your armor off.”

He smirked, his mean grin full of mirth.

“If you wanted to see me naked, Copikla, all you had to do was ask.”

Your back straightened, stiffer than a board, as you pursed your lips. Gotcha. He could bet your cheeks were flaming, maybe even your neck and ears too. You were way too easy to toy with.

But something he didn’t expect was for you to laugh. Out of all the things he was expecting, hoping, you’d do giggling was not one of them.

“You’re all bark and no bite, right, Cross?” you chuckled, your eyes gleaming at him “Now come on, let me take a look.”

When he didn’t budge, it was your turn to sigh, so softly he almost didn’t hear.

“Please?”

He stood up, stalking towards you one step at a time, before leaning closer to you only slightly, looking you right in the eyes.

“If you want to, come and get me, Copikla.” his voice was dripping venom as he whispered, only loud enough for you to hear.

Or so he thought.

“Crosshair!” came Hunter’s booming, angry voice from the ship’s ramp. He was quickly followed by Tech and Wrecker, all three of them equally soaked as they finally caught up to the two of you.

Hunter stomped towards him, gripping his upper arm and practically ripping him away from you. As he turned to face his sergeant, he was greeted with the scowling faces of all three of his brothers.

“I know you didn’t ask for any of this, her being here, in the first place,” Hunter’s voice was low, his tone one Crosshair only heard when his brother was truly angry “but this has gone too far. She’s as much part of this squad as any of us. And you’ll treat her with the due respect.”

Crosshair’s shoulders tensed. How could his own brothers, his batchmates, disagree with him on this? Could they not see it? He huffed, vexed by this whole situation, and promptly left the ship towards the rainy outside.

After a long while (could have been minutes or hours, he couldn’t bring himself to care) of ruminating the past events, he honestly didn’t feel any better. He didn’t even like you, so why did he feel… bad? Guilty even?

As he fished inside his utility belt for a soggy toothpick to put between his lips, he heard the soft splatting sound of footsteps headed his way. He groaned, not in the mood for yet another one of Hunter’s scoldings, when the rain all of a sudden stopped pouring over his head. Looking up he noticed a rainbow-colored umbrella and, following the durasteel handle, he was surprised to find you holding it over both your heads.

“Hi.” you smiled at him, and he felt undeserving of it.

“What are you doing here?”

“Thought you might be lonely and in need of some company.”

He averted his eyes, gazing at the rain as your words settled over him.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“What?” you asked, genuinely confused.

“How come you are so nice to everyone? How are you so happy all the time?” he inquired.

It was your turn to look away from him, a small hum escaping your parted lips.

“It’s a conscient choice, you know?” you explained “At least in my case it is.”

He didn’t say anything, but if the slight tilt of his head in your direction was anything to go by, you knew you had his attention.

“I’ve seen what constant bitterness and rage does to a person.” you elaborated “When I was a child, my planet was raided by pirates. My parents, our village’s guides, tried sending a distress call to the Republic. But no answer came.”

He now turned fully towards you, intrigued. The first thing he noticed were your eyes. Your eyes, normally so lively and full of joy, were dull and glazed over, a misty sheen of tears covering them.

“They killed them. My parents and the other members of the village’s ruling council.” you took a deep breath, trying to stabilize yourself before continuing “My brother was almost an adult at the time. With everything that was happening, he became bitter, full of anger and hatred. He gathered a small group of teens, including me, and we managed to overthrow the pirates. But that wasn’t enough to quell the rage simmering inside of him.”

For a moment, Crosshair felt compelled to lay a comforting hand on your shoulder, but refrained from doing so, thinking the gesture wouldn’t be appreciated.

“The bitterness he felt towards the Republic for not helping us was festering in his heart. He was thirsty for vengeance, just waiting for the perfect opportunity. And then the war started.” you sniffled, laughing bitterly “He made a deal with the Separatists, practically sold us over to their nefarious plans. He was blinded by his bitterness, not realizing he was trusting the wrong people.”

Your frown, something so out-of-tune with your entire personality, suddenly turned into a sad smile.

“After his death at the hands of the Seppies, I realized I was following down the same path as him, constantly bitter and angry all the time. So I decided it was time for a change. I was already studying to become a pediatrician, so I thought ‘Maybe if I help in the war effort, this war will end quicker’. Maybe it’s stupid but…” you shrugged “I also promised myself I would let my anger consume me.”

Crosshair’s eyebrows rose to his forehead.

“But how do you never get angry?”

“Who says that I don’t?” you laughed quietly “I do, many times. I just- let myself feel it. All of it, for just one moment. Then I let it all go. And I think of all the things that make me happy. Like Wrecker’s hugs. Or Tech’s love for nature and science. Or Hunter’s calming presence. Or-” you smiled at him, so brightly it was almost infectious “or you.”

He felt like he was doused in cold water.

“I’m sorry,” he looked away again, head hanging in shame “for the way I’ve been treating you.”

“It’s alright, Cross-”

“No, it isn’t!” he snapped, then took a moment to calm down “It’s just-”

You smiled at him, a hand laying softly over one of his and squeezing his fingers encouragingly.

“As cadets, we never knew kindness.” he explained “The Kaminoans were cold by nature and didn’t really care about us to begin with. And the regs…”

“I know. Hunter told me about that.”

He sighed. He could bet Hunter didn’t tell you everything.

“They were mean to us. Especially Wrecker and Tech. But also to me and, less often, Hunter.” he laughed, somewhat bitterly “But they could be kind when they wanted to. When they wanted something from us. Or when they were up for a good laugh.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, worried.

“They would pretend to be our friends, apologize for the things they had said and done, only to stab us in the back.” he sighed “Let’s just say the regs are known for pulling the best pranks.”

You gasped softly and squeezed his fingers once again.

“Cross, that’s horrible!”

“You’re telling me.” he turned back towards you “And now-”

“You no longer allow yourself to trust anyone who shows you kindness without thinking they have hidden intentions?” you smiled knowingly.

His shoulders dropped as he looked at his feet. No matter how horrible he had been, you seemed to know him so well.

“Cross, look at me.” he glanced at you, he realized your eyes were soft and your smile, reassuring “I promise you, with all my heart, that all I want is for you, the four of you, to be happy.” you shook your head, a mirthful scowl on your face “Well, that and that you’re all healthy and uninjured.”

He grimaced, sheepishly.

“You’re one of a kind, Copikla.” he said, the nickname coming out not as a sneer, like previous times he used it, but more lighthearted, teasingly.

“Hunter also told me what that means.” you smirked at him.

Crosshair winced.

“Would you like me to stop?”

You pretended to think for a moment, even going as far as scratching your chin.

“Nah, I think it suits me. Don’t you think, Cross?”

For once since a long time, long before he started cadet training, he smiled, a full soft smile.

“Yeah, Copikla,” he agreed “I think it does.”

#crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair x reader #crosshair x f!reader #tbb crosshair x f!reader #crosshair x fem!reader #the bad batch fanfiction #tbb crosshair #tbb crosshair fanfic

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nahoney22 · 7 months

Note

Idk if im allowed to ask for another request for the 3000 celebration but your writing is just so good that I can't help myself. Feel free to ignore if you're getting too flooded with requests lol but would I be able to get "tease me until I can't take it anymore" and "I just want to be used by you tonight. Van I be your personal toy?" Smut with F!Reader and sub!crosshair. Keep up the amazing work

3000 Prompt List Celebration

Crosshair X F!Reader

word count: 1k

NSFW

prompts:

“Tease me until I can’t take it no more.”

“I just want to be used by you tonight, can I be your personal toy?”

warnings: NSFW, 18+ only. Explicit sexual content and language. Sub!crosshair, light dom!female reader. Established relationship, dry humping/grinding, blowjob, teasing, cum denial, praise, pet names, smut without plot (kinda). NSFW under the cut. Not proofread, a little rushed ngl.

Authors note: of course you can ask for another request! I’m just sorry it’s taken like 5 years and it’s not the best. 🩵 @thrawns-babygirl

“I just want to be used by you tonight, can I be your personal toy?”

You stared up at your lover, eyes a little wide and completely stunned at what he just asked. For the last day he had been acting… different. His demeanor had shifted over the past few hours, growing more tense than usual. You had noticed him struggling to articulate something, his words hovering on the tip of his tongue.

But as he looms over you, trained eyes piercingly sharp as they gaze down at you, the question just slipped past his lips. “You want me to use you?” You repeat, quite sure you had heard him correctly but there’s nothing wrong with double checking.

You sense his resolve, his shoulders squaring and eyes finding it hard to stay on yours so with a smirk, you place one hand to his shoulder and push him off you, maneuvering deftly so you were straddling him instead. “Answer me.” You demanded, a fiery desire coursing through you as it appeared Crosshair was yielding control of the situation.

“Yes.” He rasps with a gulp, his eyes a little wide as your confidence shines through straight away. Have you wanted to dominate him as much as he wanted to be submissive to you? He’s sat up, watching you as you begin to tease him with a subtle roll of your hips against his lap, heart hammering in his chest.

He doesn’t particularly know where this sudden desire came from but he wanted a change of pace - he wanted you to take control.

“Now this is an interesting turn of events, Crosshair,” you chime pleasantly, “and not something I’m not going to pass up.”

He remains tight-lipped as you pull your top over your head, tits bouncing free from its confines and you try hard not to blush to the sound of his quiet moan as a result. He almost fails being a sub in a split second, as he so very nearly latched his lips to your stiffening nipples but you were quick to deflect him.

Pressing your hands to his chest, pushing him back until his back hits the mattress you gave him an incredulous look. “Did I say you could kiss my breasts?”

He sighs and shakes his head. “No.”

“No, what?”

He pauses for a second, a deep exhale parting his lips as his cock twitches in his pants at your dominance and how you clearly wanted to be addressed differently. “No… ma’am.”

“Good boy.” You smirk, adding more pressure to his crotch that sends him crazy. You moan yourself a little, the feeling of the thickness of his cock in his pants against your pussy felt so good. In fact, it isn’t long until you are standing, pulling your pants off (too slow for crosshairs liking) until you take yet another seat on his lap and feeling the friction even more. “I can’t wait for you to be inside me, darling.”

Crosshair huffs in response but the lust in his eyes showed everything you needed to know. When you slide his pants off, you sit back and admire how his cock twitches just under your gaze. “Aw, do you need your cock touching?”

The stoic man’s hands clench the sheets beneath him, in torture how you were dragging this out but it is what he wanted after all. “Just,” he whines unable to finish his sentence as his cock already oozes just by the sight of you

“Just, what?”

“Tease me. Tease me until I can’t take it any more.”

His words surprise you once more but the sex crazed smile on your face had you shifting between his legs, fingers gently caressing over his bare thighs. “As you wish.”

Slowly, tortuously slowly, you placed your tongue flat against the inside of his thigh and moved up along his proudly standing erection.

The flat of your tongue slid along his cock as your lips slowly enveloped the head. Crosshairs long lashes fluttered, dark, lust filled eyes finding your gaze.

Your boyfriend whined as he felt his tip touch the back of your warm throat. You moaned at the taste of him, slurping and spitting on his cock just how you wanted to.

His hips start to jut, his heavy breaths becoming ragged as your name slips beautifully past his lips. You know him, you know when he’s about to hit his high and as soon as he gets to his peak, goes curling and moans strangled in his throat, you pull back.

“W-What? Why… babe?” He gasps at the lack of orgasm, by now he would be painting your pretty face with his cum but alas, your face remains clean and smug.

“You’re my toy, remember? You only get to finish when I’m done with you, silly.”

He is watching you with wide, blown eyes as you begin to crawl over the top of him, breasts sliding against his throbbing cock until you maneuver on top of him, your pussy just inches away from his head that was almost begging to be touched by your wet lips.

“You look so good; wanting and needy.”

“You’re fucking incredible.” He breathes, nothing but love on his face and you smirk as you sink onto his length, eliciting the most guttural groan he had ever released.

“Mmm, maker… so, s-so warm.” He rests up on his elbows, hips naturally thrusting up into you but as you tut at him and push against his lower abdomen to halt him.

“No moving.” You commanded and he let out the sweetest whimper of pleasure.

“Please, I need to fuck you so hard.” He sighs, pushing past the firm hold you had as he begged for his needs that you weren’t so willing to give just yet.

“No. Moving.” You repeat, forcing his hips back down as you begin to delicately grind your hips and down against him, his cock stretching you so well that a small curse passes your lips.

“You wanted to be teased, Crosshair,” you rasp, your index finger trailing up his chest that heaved under your touch, caressing up his neck until you grab his chin between your fingers, leaning over his lips, “so this is going to be a long evening for you.”

Masterlist

Tags @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @oohyesplease @theroguesully @mustluvecho @ladykatakuri i @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @kixs-husband @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @raevulsix @imalovernotahater @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @photogirl894 @fantasyproductions

#nahoney22 writes #crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair #bad batch crosshair x reader #crosshair x fem!reader #the bad batch #star wars #tbb #clone wars #crosshair bad batch

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stardust-kenobi · 1 year

Note

If 46 & 57 are still available could you write them for Crosshair x female reader? Thank youuu

Ooohhhh boy. I’m ready. (Also sorry for the delay, and I hope you enjoy!!!). I’m making this one a full one shot because I got carried away LMAO. Just in time for crosshairs appearance this week

#46 - “Please, ruin me”

#57 - “What are you doing in my bed?”

Ruin me

Crosshair x Fem!Reader

Summary: Crosshair finds you waiting for him in his bed. You pique his curiosity, and he decides to indulge in your interests.

Warnings: smut, rough sex, manhandling, alot of degradation, lil tiny bit of a softness tho, anyways this is filthy…it’s crosshair so y’know

Word count: 2k ish tbh I haven’t checked yet bc I’m on mobile, but it’s a semi short one

It was an idea that floated through your mind ever so frequently, but you’d been too afraid to act on it. That is, until now. You had it bad for Crosshair, and you suspected he felt the same about you. He was an asshole, that much was obvious, but maker, it turned you on.

Crosshair’s bed smelled of cedar and musk, and you embraced the aroma of his natural scent while your lustful thoughts danced in your head. He’d been gone all day, probably training, and was expected to come back any minute now. It was no accident that you put on your tightest, skimpiest outfit. The outfit was close enough to resembling loungewear so as to be not obvious when you walked the halls down to his room, but still inched toward dangerous territory of being lingerie.

Your tits spilled over the top of the thin tank top, pushed from the bra you’d chosen to wear. A ruby red lace bra, one that would leave no question as to what your intentions were, if he decides to undress you, of course. The shorts you wore, if you could even call them that, were high cut, leaving a significant amount of your thighs and hips exposed.

You laid back, taking in the feeling of laying in his room without him knowing, and allowed yourself to become excited with the idea. Pretending that the touch of your fingers traveling up your thighs were his was the closest you could get to feeling him right now, and you hoped he’d return soon.

Just then, approaching footsteps snapped you out of your daze. You swallowed hard, anticipating his arrival. The metal door slid open with a loud hiss, and there he was, stoic in his stance. He promptly removed his helmet before his eyes found you.

Crosshair wasn’t startled, nor was he angry. In fact you couldn’t even really tell what he was thinking. The same scowl he always held was still present on his face. He tilted his head at you, studying the way you laid seductively on his bed.

“What are you doing in my bed?” He inquired curiously. That voice, gods…that beautiful voice. You wanted nothing more than to hear him whisper nasty things in your ear.

“I wanted to surprise you” you purred. Sitting up on your knees, letting him get a full view down the cleavage of your shirt.

“With what?” He scanned your body, seemingly approving, but was followed by a look of distaste.

“Me.” You whispered.

“Is that so?” He pondered with a snarky look, setting his helmet down on the desk by the entrance, “what makes you think I’d want to fuck you?”

“Are you saying you don’t want to?” You leaned back in surprise.

“Oh no, I’m going to fuck you” He said with certainty, sending a fiery heat to your cunt as it fell off his lips, “just curious what made you think I wanted to”

He cut right to the chase. This was happening, and he was ready, but not without a little more teasing on his end.

“I see the way you look at me” You noted, looking him up and down and admiring the outline of his body. He looked so good in his armor.

“How can I not? You’re always dressed like a little slut” He scoffed. He was so fucking hard to read. He wanted you, but sounded disgusted with your behavior at the same time.

“You love it, though, don’t you?” You teased, watching his face grow flustered.

He didn’t answer, but moved slowly to stand beside the bed, staring down at you.

“You want my cock? Hm? Is that what you want, pet?” He asked, his voice flowing like honey on your ears, making you shiver in anticipation of how he was likely going to leave you limping afterwards.

“Please, ruin me” you breathlessly begged. The way he was treating you was so sadistic, but oh it felt so right.

“Gladly” He growled in response.

Quickly, he worked to remove your tank top, finding the lingerie you wore beneath it.

“You wore this just for me didn’t you?” He smirked, taking your lifted breasts into his grasp. He didn’t admire your attire for long, because he removed your bra just as quickly as he found it, “and I bet your cunt is already soaking fucking wet isn’t it?” He asked, pushing you back onto his bed with force, and eagerly sliding your shorts from your hips. Suddenly he plunged two fingers inside of you, allowing him to feel what he suspected, and you gasped in response.

“You need my cock this bad? What a needy little whore” He whispered against your ear, hovering above your completely exposed body. Chills erupted across your entire body, which Crosshair noticed immediately, “Beg for it”

“I want you to- oh my gods- I want you to fuck me, Crosshair. Please” You begged through your whimpering as his fingers pumped in and out with the perfect curl, apply perfect pressure inside of you.

“I’ve thought about it, myself” He began, “thought about the way you’d look squirming beneath me. How pathetic you’d sound begging for me to ruin you. Look at you now. It’s only my fingers” He chuckled, so intent on humiliating you.

“It feels so good” You moaned, feeling a precious tension forming in your lower belly.

“I bet it does” He smirked, immediately pulling his fingers from your pussy and ripping your approaching orgasm away from you, “touch yourself while I get undressed”

You did as he asked, and rubbed your clit slowly as you watch the armor and clothes fall from his body. Maker, he was beautiful. Every scar, edge, and mark creating a masterpiece of his figure. You’d never been this wet before, and it was only getting more intense as your clit throbbed beneath your fingers.

He watched hungrily, trying not to be too be too obvious with how beautiful he thought you looked getting yourself off just waiting on him, but he could watch you do this all day.

“Crosshair” You whimpered as your eyes landed on his cock, he was larger and thicker than you were expecting. He really was going to ruin you. He stroked himself gently, his gaze traveling the length of your sprawled out body. On display just for him.

“Turn over” He demanded.

You flipped onto your belly, and anxiously waited for what was to come next. Your cunt clenched around nothing as you ached to be filled and you groaned in desperation.

“Please”

“Patience, slut” He scolded, letting his new name for you roll off his tongue with a deep satisfaction

Your next breath lodged itself in your throat as the full length of his cock slammed into your cunt, brutally filling you so suddenly with almost no warning. You winced in the stinging pleasure, quickly overcoming the small bit of pain. The pain was nice, and you’ll admit that you didn’t know you even liked pain until you’d just felt it like this. But it felt good.

A loud cry tried to leave your lips but was halted by the wrapping of his hand around your mouth as he leaned down, his chest against your back. To feel him use you like this was exactly what you wanted, and the slight twinge of pain only made it all the better.

“You can take it, Y/N” He encouraged, the first and only bit of praise he muttered.

Your muffled mess of whimpers hummed against the palm of his hand, earning a smirk from him you weren’t lucky enough to see. His thrusts were brutal, fucking you like you he absolutely hated you. The sound of the skin of your ass slapping against him with every motion accompanied the sound of your expression to pleasure.

At first, all that you’d heard from Crosshair were rough and quiet grunts, but he was growing louder, sounding satisfied with the feeling of your slickness and how good it felt to claim you after thinking of you like this for so long.

“Look at you, so desperate for it” He leaned down, pressing his lips hungrily against your neck, moving his hand from your mouth to wrap in the locks of your hair. As he yanked your head back, your moans were amplified and unrestricted.

“You fuck me so good, Crosshair” You looked up and back at him, your gaze almost breaking him, but he looked away from you, and down to where your bodies were fused together. It was unbearable how good it felt, and you were overwhelmed with all of it. Your heated skin, the friction against your clit with every swing of his hips, the sensation of being used by him, and how rough he was with you…that was the icing on the cake.

“Everyone will know if you keep screaming” He hissed.

“I want them to know” You bragged.

“Yeah?” He teased you.

An unexpected flash of burning pain struck your ass, his hand rested against your rear after striking you. You cried out in pleasure, approving of the feeling. Crosshair was happy to take that as a sign to do it again, and it was harder the second time.

His hands moved to tightly grip your waist, using it to his advantage to thrust deeper and deeper. His wandering grip traveled to your breast and squeezed, the soft of your skin driving him wild. With each second, his cock brushed against your g-spot, inching you closer and closer to your climax.

“Fuck” He groaned deep, losing himself in how good you felt, he was getting close too.

“I want you to fill me up” You begged him, needing so desperately to feel his release inside you.

The growl in his moan as he didn’t respond made it clear that he wanted that too. And just hearing you say it sent him over his edge. The pace of his hips slowed, and his expressions of pleasure grew louder, which was music to your ears. Just then you felt the warmth of his cum spill inside you. He leaned over you, pressing his chest into your back, holding you while he came, his nails digging deep into your waist.

You hadn’t come yet, and with him pulling out of you, you didn’t expect to. To your surprise, you squealed as he eagerly picked you up and flipped you over on your back.

“I never leave a woman unsatisfied” He said sadistically.

The hollowness that began to ache you was then filled by his fingers once again. Using the slickness of your arousal and his own cum, he fucked you with his fingers. Crosshair hovered above you, creating a sense of odd comfort for you.

“You gonna come for me slut? Gonna come on my fingers?” He taunted you, his demeaning tone only encouraging your orgasm more.

“Fuck, yes, please don’t stop”

And he didn’t. His thumb worked softly at your clit, as he curled his digits inside of you. Anyone in the entire wing could’ve heard you now, your moaning and whimpering was relentlessly loud, and gods you didn’t care at all.

He felt you clench around him, and listened to the way you became breathless for a moment before the tension unraveled itself so gracefully. As he felt you come, he stared deep into your eyes, his other hand holding the side of your face. You weren’t sure where this care or gentleness came from, but you savored it, staring back and leaning into him.

“There you go. Come for me” He reiterated, adoring the look on your face while you fell apart beneath him.

It washed over you like a giant wave of ecstasy, filling every inch of your body with an overwhelming tingling pleasure. You’d never felt an orgasm so intense before, and he worked you through every second of it.

You swore that there were stars in your eyes as you floated back to reality, and it was then that you realized you were fully holding onto him, and he was letting you.

“Should’ve got you alone a long time ago” He smirked, still looking down at you, making sure you were okay.

“I guess one of us had to make the first move, huh?”

“Don’t sass me” He playfully scoffed as he laid down beside you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into him.

Maybe Crosshair had a soft spot for you after all.

A/N: Apologies for any types my loves, I will try and check for any mistakes later!!

feedback and comments are always so encouraging and appreciated. If you enjoyed this, please let me know❤️

#crosshair #the bad batch #crosshair x reader #crosshair x fem!reader #crosshair smut #crosshair fanfic #tbb smut #crosshair x reader smut #crosshair x f!reader smut #tcw #my work #stardust-kenobi #crosshair x you #crosshair x y/n #fluff #smut

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