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thrawns-babygirl · 1 year

Text

Discomfort (Crosshair x GN!Reader)

Should I be working through my asks? Yes. Do I just really want to give Crosshair head? Also yes. Is Medic!Reader my favourite Crosshair trope? 100% yes. So have this self indulgent smut that I tried to add plot to

Also wanted to practice GN stuff so let me know how it goes. Also if it's not obvious the author is not a doctor and will never be one so please don't judge that part too harshly lmao.

Rating: E

Summary: Crosshair comes home from a mission injured and comes to see you after hours

Warnings: Oral M!Receiving (yes 2k words and that is literally it lmao)

Word Count: 2231

Masterlist

Did I write my longest fic yet just to give Cross some sloppy toppy? Abso-fucking-lutely. And I regret NOTHING

It was late when the Batch arrived back on Kamino, a ping on your comm failing to wake you from your heavy slumber. It had been a rather hectic day after all. Although you were officially the medic assigned to Clone Force 99, while they were off world you earned your keep looking after other squads who had gotten injuries while training or taking care of groups of clones that had to return to Kamino for medical emergencies. Which in the past few rotations was a lot of clones.

You were however roused from your slumber when your door chimed indicating a visitor. Grumbling to yourself and pulling on some loose fatigue pants and a tank top you shuffle over to the door of your modest quarters prepared to give your unwelcomed guest a piece of your mind.

Hitting the door panel, the door whooshed open to reveal Hunter and Crosshair, the former looking tired and apologetic with the weight of the latter slung over his shoulder.

“Sorry to bug you so late doc, but the long necks over in medical told us to come to you if it wasn’t life threatening, something about being over capacity at the moment” Hunter explained gesturing to the taller man next to him.

“I’m fine Hunter” Crosshair grit out, but you didn’t miss the slight wince as he tried to put pressure on his right leg.

All previous grouchiness leaving you as you took in the sight of an irate and obviously in pain Crosshair leaning against his brother. They both looked exhausted and given that it’s been a good number of rotations since you’ve seen them, you’re not surprised they look a little worse for wear.

Smiling softly, you move out of the doorway and gesture for them to come in. Hunter deposits a grumbling crosshair into one of the chairs in the corner of your room that seldom saw use. It’s not like you got too many visitors.

“I didn’t realise you were back home” you say as you head over to your cabinet to grab your supplies, given that he was still walking, you didn’t think there was too many problems with the sniper, but better to be safe than sorry.

“We only just got back, Tech tried to comm you, and when you didn’t reply we went to your bay in Medical only to be told to Kriff off basically by the regs there who-” Hunter attempted and failed to stifle a yawn “-seemed to have their hands full”.

“Go back to the barracks sarge, I’ll patch up Mr. Talkative over there and send him back over when we’re done” You smile as Hunter gives you a relieved look and nods at Crosshair “Behave yourself” he says as he heads towards the door leaving you alone with the sniper, who has yet to say a word to you.

“So Cross, what’s the problem?” You ask as you haul the remarkably taller man over your shoulder and guide him towards your bed to lie him down and you can begin examining what appears to be his right ankle if his limp is any descriptor.

“Meddling team mates and an annoying doctor who won’t let me go to sleep” he bites back slipping a toothpick into his mouth as he lies back on the bed that you were occupying not even ten minutes ago.

“Oh, a comedian now huh? Well, the jokes on you because the sooner you tell me what’s actually happening then the sooner I’ll be out of your hair and you can actually get some sleep. Just like your brothers are probably doing right now. So, I’ll ask again smart-ass, what’s wrong?” you slide on some latex gloves and begin reaching over his lithe legs to remove his boots and the hard plastoid of the lower half of his armour.

“Right ankle. Rolled it wrong retreating from the seppie’s base at the end of our last mission. Tech checked it over and said nothing was broken and to get you to look at it when we got back. Here I am.” He finally answers.

“See? Was that so hard? I know you’re tired but this whole process goes by a lot faster when you cooperate” giving him a small yet genuine smile, you start rotating the ankle, applying small amounts of pressure to see where it hurts the most and taking mental notes as you go. His replies are short and clipped the entire time, even as you dropped the snarky façade you usually had when dealing with this specific clone in favour of your usual bedside manner.

You slowly place his leg back down onto the bed, grabbing some supplies from the box beside you before inputting your findings into your data-pad.

“You’re especially talkative tonight. Credit for your thoughts?” this was your olive branch. Any time the two of you were together you would banter, bicker and generally be a headache for whoever was unfortunate enough to be in your presence, usually his brothers.

He remains silent, avoiding eye contact and facing the wall towards the other side of the room. The smell of you was invading his senses as he laid his head back on your pillows and making his resolve crumble. You were always so willing to play his games, always willing to bite when he would bait you into the sort of banter that gave Hunter a headache and made the others worry you actually hated each other. But you didn’t hate him, you both knew that.

He wished you would just hate him like everyone else. He wished you would have just turned him away to deal with the pain until you were actually on duty tomorrow instead of inviting him into your room, lying him on your bed as you looked over him in nothing but loose sweats and a thin tank top. He never saw you outside of your uniform and he wasn’t prepared for his body’s reaction to the sight of your skin, his blood rushing south. He was only hoping this would be over as soon as possible and that you wouldn’t notice his slowly growing arousal.

“-if that’s alright?” Crosshair is shaken from his stupor as he realises, you’re talking to him.

“What?” he asks eloquently dragging his eyes over to you.

“I won’t be able to fully examine your ankle through your blacks, they are compression suits after all so I can’t exactly roll them up your leg without possibly exacerbating whatever’s wrong. I’ll need you to strip from the waist down so I can see the full extent of the bruising and check the scope of the swelling to make sure there are no torn ligaments or anything like that. It shouldn’t take too long” you give him a tired smile, your words free from any of the venom they usually have when you address one another.

“Now doc, if you wanted me alone and naked in your room you just had to ask” he smirks over at you. Trying to stall for time and will his semi hard cock to go down.

You roll your eyes, but you are acutely aware of the blush that has bloomed over your face. You can’t say you’ve never thought about it, that would be a huge lie. You’ve thought about it a lot. You were thinking about it as you went to sleep a few hours before being awoken by the object of your desires standing in the doorway to your quarters. But you were a doctor, and he was your patient, now was not the time to be having such inappropriate thoughts, now was the time to bury those feelings deeper than you usually would and just do your job.

“Oh? Alright then, pants off di’kut” you bite back, hoping that your snark covers up how you’re genuinely curious about what he’s hiding under his blacks. Looking up from your data-pad, you notice he’s blushing, Avoiding eye contact with you again.

You’re taken aback, even when your banter turns flirty, you’ve never seen the man in front of you blush, let alone seem embarrassed as he does now. Clearing his throat, he shifts on the bed, lifting his hips slightly to slide his blacks down. You’re about to tell him that if he’s uncomfortable he doesn’t need to undress in front of you, but the words catch in your throat as your eyes are drawn to the source of his discomfort.

He’s huge, long, thick and impossibly hard, the sight makes your mouth water and clears every professional thought from your head. You shake your head and attempt to get back into your ‘doctor’ headspace but its impossible to drag your eyes away from his length. Finally looking down to his ankle you begin to poke and prod and ask questions.

You determine that there is no severe damage and finally swallow your pride and meet his gaze again. His near permanent scowl is replaced with a smug smirk as he takes in your flustered expression.

“See something you like doc?” he all but purrs at you and your face feels like its on fire.

“Y-yes well there doesn’t appear to be anything that will require urgent medical attention, some bacta and a bandage as well as two or three days of rest will be all you need” your eyes burn into his, refusing to travel any lower as you remove your gloves.

“I don’t know about that doc… I can think of something else I might need. I do have some other areas of… discomfort” he’s teasing you now, happy to finally have the upper hand again.

You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry as you refuse to break eye contact with him.

“And- uh- how would you like me to help with that… discomfort, trooper?” your words are just above a whisper as your common sense loses out to your desire and your gaze return to his throbbing length, you notice a bit of precum has gathered at the tip and you want nothing more than to lean down and taste it.

Kark it. You two have been dancing around this for too long and professionalism is overrated anyway.

“You’re the doctor, you’re the one who should know what the patient nee- Ah” you cut him off by licking a line from the base of his cock to the tip, swirling your tongue along the tip to gather the beaded precum that has gathered over the course of your examination. He lets out a hiss, teeth clenching down on the toothpick in his mouth as the feeling of your warm mouth engulfs him.

He was just teasing, he didn’t think either of you would actually take that final step and he’s thrown off guard. You sense you have the advantage over him now and suck hard, running your tongue along the veins on the underside of his cock.

“Kriff doc, just like that- karking perfect” he grunts out above you. He’s panting now, his voice has lost its teasing edge and his hips are slowly rising to shove himself further into your warm mouth. You bring your hand around to stroke the part of him that you can’t fit into your throat.

He moves one of his hands to the back of your head, forcing you further onto his length and causing you to gag slightly. He lets out a sinful groan at the sound of you gagging on his cock, it sends jolts of electricity down his spine pushing him closer to the edge faster than he anticipated.

The sounds he’s making are downright addictive, causing you to double your efforts. Right now, you decide, you are going to give this man the best head of his life. Saliva runs out of your mouth down his shaft and onto his balls as you gag and moan around him. His heavy pants and soft slurping sounds are the only things that can be heard in your room as you bring him closer and closer to the edge.

The hand that’s not wrapped around his shaft moves down to his balls, moving and fondling them before your mouth leaves his length and you run your tongue along his balls, pumping him as you take one and then the other into your mouth sucking them lightly, savouring the strangled groans that he tries and fails to stifle.

“Kark- doc- I’m gonna-” you take him as deep in your throat as you can, swallowing around him as his hand tangles in your hair and holds you there as he spills down your throat, emptying himself into your welcoming mouth, hips thrusting up of their own accord.

You release his cock with a ‘pop’ and move to look up at him. He looks utterly ruined. Wide eyes, blown pupils and heaving chest stripping away all his prior cockiness. His mouth hangs open slightly, toothpick threatening to fall from its current position perched precariously on his bottom lip as he stares at you.

You apply some bacta patches, a bandage and hand him his previously discarded pants. You input some information into your data-pad before turning back to him.

“Well, if that’s everything I recommend returning to your barracks for a good night’s rest trooper. If any further… discomfort arises you know where to find me” you wink down at him.

@where-is-my-mind-tho

@starborncyare

#crosshair x reader #crosshair smut #crosshair x reader smut #tbb crosshair #crosshair #tbb crosshair smut #tbb x reader #tbb x reader smut #tbb smut #the bad batch smut #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch x reader smut #bad batch crosshair #the bad batch crosshair #bad batch smut

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ironmandeficiency · 4 years

Text

the game

pairing: wrecker / reader

word count: 2007

summary: when the bad batch’s resident loudmouth suddenly begins to tone himself down, his brothers are rightfully suspicious.

request: “ Hiiiii! Could you please write something for Wrecker with him and reader having a bit of a kissy sesh and the others boys walk in on them? Thank you lmao I love ur writing ❣️”

a/n: a bit steamy!!! like idk how this got away from me but i’m sorry if this is too heated, anon!!! i guess i’m just thirsty and my brain went on autopilot. but can you blame me?? it’s wrecker we’re talking about!!

the havoc marauder touched down onto the base’s landing platform with a gentleness the ship only knew when you were piloting. you had been assigned to work with clone force 99 as their pilot after one too many close calls with other ships (and one ship they absolutely decimated by landing on top of it). said ship was yours, which was all the more uncanny when you received the orders to join them less than an hour later. you were trading a ship for a ship, essentially, with a few crew members included as a bonus gift.

there were days where you doubted whether crosshair could really be considered a gift but that was to be expected; the talking toothpick that mauled its brethren wasn’t exactly a ray of kriffin’ sunshine, you learned that early on. but he was practical and reliable, and him not eviscerating you for using his mug that one time made him okay in your book.

it took varying amounts of time for the team to warm up to you, which didn’t surprise you in the least. wrecker had been the first to grow used to (and appreciate) your presence on their/your ship - turns out your proficient flying was helpful in bringing the weapons specialist a bit more ease about heights. he seemed to open up after that and you were pleasantly surprised at the man he was behind the armor and gung ho attitude.

turns out he really liked animals, and the times he’d try to pet them were some of the only times you’d heard him whisper and move like molasses in the winter. his voice would turn soft and soothing as his hand would nearly obscure a porg from view while petting it, talking to the creature and taking it satisfied mewls as replies. the man nearly cried when he had the opportunity to watch two baby blurrgs hatch, the baby lizards imprinting on him when he was the first creature they had seen with fresh eyes (your heart broke for him when he failed to vouch for the creatures to become their mascots, hunter accompanying him to take them to a nearby village where there was a teary goodbye).

his affection for animals, funny enough, didn’t extend towards bugs. you learned this when he shrieked like an aiwha at a spider with a body barely the size of his thumb nail in the middle of the sleep cycle. everyone else had been too frustrated at him to do something about the arachnid so you had to be the one to trap it and release it outside.

wrecker was interesting alright.

so much so that after several months alongside the bad batch, you found yourself infatuated with the gentle giant in a manner you didn’t expect.

this infatuation led to months of stolen moments in random republic base supply closets (the few that could actually comfortably fit the two of you) and on planets you could only recall by what surface wrecker would press you against while his lips ravished yours. it also paved the way for the creation of a game on your end. wrecker wasn’t the biggest fan of the rules of the game, but he sure as hell did enjoy the reward he got if he won.

the rules were simple: if wrecker was able to refrain from making more than two references to a time he blew something up, to the ever-present desire of his to blow something up, or lament a lack of explosions, you’d give him a reward. now you knew this was difficult for him, not talking about his love for explosions and pyromania, so you played this game sparingly.

plus, the others were getting suspicious. you could tell by the way they had become the ones that brought up occasions for blowin’ shit up and expectant eyes when stealth missions were announced. they’d wait for him to complain about the required silence or make his yearning for fire and destruction known and raise eyebrows when their vod would shrug the words off.

you could tell it was almost cruel, but you were always sure to make his restraint well worth the struggle.

they had just finished another mission, everything going off with, for lack of a better word, a bang. it was strangely quiet within the bad batch’s comms when the outpost they took over had gone up in billowing flames and projectile shards of infrastructure, the inferno being one of epic proportions. but wrecker had remembered that the day before you’d promised him a quite pleasant reward if he played well.

he hoped to the gods that tech had gotten a good shot in his mission footage because it deserved wrecker’s full appreciation that he couldn’t give in the moment. times like this he despised that stupid game, but he had to admit that it made the anticipation that much stronger when he was finally alone with you.

wrecker barely focused on hunter’s post-mission spiel about something or another, favoring a glance at the cockpit where you were chatting with tech. his kih’vod seemed worried about something, which was normal, this was tech. but then his vod pulled up a holovid and you can see your eyes widen in shock and awe. most likely the blast footage from only hours before.

when tech showed you the epic blast that sent mayhem through the seppie troops, you felt guilty for starting the game the previous morning. wrecker would have loved to yell and celebrate a blast like that! there’d never actually been a time that the game went awry up until today, the explosions usually saving themselves for moments that the game wasn’t a deciding factor in your not-sleeping arrangements. this round’s reward would have to make it worth not celebrating the blast, worth more.

the post-mission routine was one you’d been doing for a while, wrecker waiting until his brothers were asleep (or otherwise distracted) before coming into the cockpit with you for some time to just be together. he’d usually remove you from the pilot’s chair, sit himself in it, and pull you onto his lap and hold you. being close to you was something he enjoyed and he would insert himself into your space however he could. it gave way to the best cuddling that you’d ever had the pleasure to experience in your life and a sense of safety like no other.

today, however, wrecker was impatient. the minute he was on board, he wanted nothing more than to barrel his way into the cockpit and show you just how frustrated he was about not celebrating the epic blast. there was a brief protest somewhere in his brain about getting caught by his brothers but wrecker didn’t care. he almost didn’t wait for tech to leave your side and for cross and hunter to disappear into their own parts of the ship before approaching you.

you heard his heavy footfalls reverberate off the durasteel and steeled yourself as the doors whooshed shut. you knew he’d be coming to claim part of his reward, but so soon? this was risky. there was barely time to turn on the ship’s autopilot before wrecker spun the pilot’s chair harshly toward him, pulling you away from the controls.

“do you have any idea what you do to me, cyare?” his voice was teetering back and forth between a growl and a whisper, sending chills through your body. “little gods, it took so much control to keep from shouting at the top of my lungs back there, and for what?” his hands slid between your ass and the chair, lifting you into his arms before plopping himself into the seat you formerly occupied. he maneuvered your legs to straddle him, keeping one of them on your ass and moving the other to the back of your neck.

this was a side to wrecker you’d never seen before, and holy karking hells you were loving it.

you brought your hands to either side of his face, thumb gently stroking the scar tissue near his cybernetic eye the way you know he enjoys. he was hungry, starving, and you weren’t one to deprive a man in need. your forehead pressed against his, eyes locking.

“i’ll show you what for,” you slammed your lips into his and ground yourself against his codpiece, the hand on your ass gripping hard in response. this was heaven, you were sure of it. wrecker’s muscles were tensing and relaxing under you and you could feel every bit of it.

he slid his hands to your hips and guided your movements, relinquishing control of the kiss as he moved your pliant body against him. the pace was rough and you both were capturing moans on your lips with no real effort put behind trying to contain them.

hunter’s nose wrinkled in response to the echoes of something familiar. for weeks he’s been trying to pinpoint the source of a scent he was unfamiliar with, only being able to catch its lingering presence. but now, it was hitting him full force and it was strong. setting down the blade he’d been sharpening, he emerged from the bunks and it only got stronger from there.

“is everything alright?” tech wasn’t looking up from whatever project had captured his attention, presumably seeing the twisted look on hunter’s face from the reflection of the shiny durasteel he was welding to whatever.

hunter shook his head. he’d questioned their youngest vod about possible sources of the scent and he’d had the same luck as him with discovering the source, also known as none. before hunter could bring up the elusive smell that confounded his nose, he was cut off by a noise from the cockpit.

why was the door shut? you normally left it open because the intercom system was terrible and you preferred shouting over the incessant crackling.

tech seemed to notice this abnormality as well, presumably having the same thoughts about why it was so strange.

“should we-”

“yeah, let’s check.”

both men make their way to the doors to the cockpit and hunter’s head is swimming. that damned scent was taking over his mind and it took him a few seconds before he could activate the door controls.

the whooshing of the doors carried the scent, now full-force, straight into the sargent and all but turned his brain into goop. then his eyes registered what exactly was happening in front of him. tech’s shocked/offended gasp wasn’t enough to snap you and wrecker out of your reverie, which would have been far more amusing if the mix of yours and wrecker’s pheromones wasn’t making his insides into soup.

crosshair had ventured up front to see what had tech so flustered, the sniper nearly choking on his toothpick at the sight of their pilot grinding on wrecker’s lap. the choking was what brought the two of you out of the hazy cloud of lust that permeated through the cockpit.

no one said anything for a long moment. what was there to say, really?

“don’t snap ‘em in half, wreck. i’ve gotten too used to not crashing in this damned thing.” crosshair turned and left the doorway. that was the closest crosshair has ever come to complimenting you, and you would have been a bit more focused on the achievement if wrecker wasn’t under you.

hunter snickered at the comment and had to hide his laughter at the fact that despite being walked in on, neither of you removed yourselves from the other’s hold. you had the decency to stop kissing now that you knew that you were found out, thank the maker.

should hunter feel bad for the strong urge he has to forget this ever happened? eh, cody’s probably got that visor on his gear to block out the bullshit his jedi gets up to, so no. hunter doesn’t feel bad about forgetting this and doesn’t think he could.

“just don’t crash the ship or leave a mess, that’s all i ask.”

#wrecker x reader #star wars reader insert #star wars fanfic #star wars imagines #star wars the clone wars #star wars #the bad batch #clone force 99 #the bad batch x reader #jj writes requests #clone trooper x reader #sergeant hunter #crosshair #tech #clone trooper imagines #clone trooper imagine #wrecker #hunter #jj writes things

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