snarky-mans-gf

Latest Posts by snarky-mans-gf

My bbygworls

Sluttiest thing a man can do is have pronounced cheek bones I stg

I miss your amazing works on the Bad Batch being panty snatchers - any updated headcannons/shenanigans around this?

aaah, I haven't updated that trope/series in so long!!! Here's a few NSFW headcanons based on the Batch stealing yo panties.

I'm writing this with the idea that you, the reader, have no idea what's going on, but you're more than welcome to interpret it the opposite way!

Fem reader.

Hunter always feels guilty whenever he steals your panties. He's desperate for that extra material when he masturbates, but oh lord, the post-nut guilt hits him hard. He'll hand-wash your panties before machine washing them, ensuring that they're extra clean. And Maker forbid that a single drop of his cum ever reaches them, else he'll burn your panties and sneakily buy you a new pair.

Echo, similar to Hunter, always feels guilty about stealing your panties. He doesn't get many moments alone, let alone to masturbate, so when he does jerk off, he likes to take his time, and go all out. So, if that means acquiring a pair of your panties to sniff, then fine, he'll do it, for his own pleasure! It's a little selfish, but he always puts them in the wash the second that he's done with them.

Wrecker is often clumsy, but when it comes to committing such a sinful act, he's extra careful. Wrecker won't risk stealing your panties when you're also on the ship, just to be safe. Hell, you'll need to be far away from the ship before he even considers stealing them. But when he does, he goes to town, and the second that he nuts, he often forgets to return them. Sneaking them back into your laundry the next day is always challenging.

Tech is good at being sneaky, but he sometimes lets his confidence get the better of him. You've caught him digging through your laundry basket before, using the excuse of "I was looking for something," before scuttering off. He has one stolen pair that he keeps under his pillow, and uses them over and over until your smell has vanished. So, if your panties ever go missing for days on end, you know who has them.

Crosshair, whilst he is bold and confident, prefers to be sneaky when it comes to something like this. It's weird, isn't it? Sniffing your panties whilst jerking off, all for that extra stimulation. He doesn't often feel guilty of it, just a little... weird? Still, he'll put them back into your laundry basket when done. You can always tell when Crosshair is up to something, as he'll make you caf the next morning - his silent way of saying 'thank you.'

Monochrome

Summary: You find your soulmate in a certain sharpshooter. The Empire doesn't like that. Will Crosshair be a good soldier, or will be finally wake up to the truth?

Inspired by the song Monochrome by Babymetal. I listened to the Piano Version the entire time I wrote this.

Pairing: Crosshair x medic!reader Soulmate AU

Warnings: Some angst and violence, mentions of injuries, nonsexual nudity.

A/N: So I lied when I said I'd finish Midnight before writing some clone soulmate stories. I'm not giving up on Midnight, I just need a bit of a break. This was supposed to be a lot longer, but I'm trying to practice keeping things short.

Will probably end up doing a part 2 showing what happens in the middle since there's a lot I skipped.

MASTERLIST

He strikes when you least expect it. 

You’ve just left the fresher, towel wrapped around your body. Your clean clothes are steps away when he materializes out of thin air.  How much had he seen? How long has he been here?

He corners you like a scared animal, your back pressing against the wall. One of your hands desperately clutches at the towel wrapped around you. The last thing you need is it dropping right now. He towers over you, his gaze nothing more than his usual squint, toothpick in its usual place between his lips. His hand raises slowly, coming to rest on your jaw. His thumb presses against your lower lip, the rough material of his glove tugging at it. 

It’s bold. So very unlike him. 

He regarded most nat-borns with little more than seething glances, if he acknowledged them at all. You had seen more than that, though, from him. You’d been the one to care for him after they pulled him off that platform on Kamino. 

Thirty-two rotations there alone. 

He’d come to you almost dead, weak and malnourished. You’d nursed him back to health, while all he’d cared about was getting back to fighting. Of course, you’d expect nothing less from him. It’s what he was made for. 

After that, you had been assigned to his squad, accompanying them on certain missions. He rarely acknowledged your presence, but often you found him staring from afar. When you’d catch him, he’d only narrow his eyes at you before looking away. 

You’ve never been brave enough to confront him yourself. 

“C-Can I help you, sir?” You ask, your voice wavering slightly. His presence does something to you, makes your body buzz with energy you can’t even begin to explain. 

His gaze is hard as he stares down at you, assessing and analyzing like he would a target in the field. You try not to tremble under the intensity of it. 

“I-I’m almost done...if you need the fresher...” Your voice trails off as his hand slides down your neck, closing around your throat. 

He doesn’t squeeze, but he holds enough pressure to keep you still. Your pulse flutters under his fingers, breath hitching as he leans in closer. “You’re afraid.” 

You stare up into his dark gaze, swallowing against his hand. You nod, not trusting your voice. 

“Why?” He asks, the word coming out more curious than condemning. 

“You scare me.” You whisper. It’s not untrue. It’s not just the danger that he poses that scares you about him. 

He continues to stare down at you with that unreadable expression on his face. His eyes pierce right into you, like he can see into your very soul. He lifts his free hand slowly, bringing it to his mouth. He tugs his glove off with his teeth, his hand lowering towards you. 

Your heart rate picks up even more, and you want to duck away from his touch. You can’t move though, frozen watching in slow motion as his hand comes to rest against the skin of your throat, those large hands cupping each side of your neck. 

An electric jolt burns through you as his skin makes contact with yours. The world erupts in color around you, no longer just in shades of black and white. You stare up at his eyes, the most gorgeous shade of brown you’ve ever seen. 

You inhale sharply, staring up into those brown eyes in shock. 

He’s your soulmate. 

Most beings in the galaxy have a soulmate. You’re usually born with your link, or it shows up shortly after. With such a diaspora of species, fate doesn’t usually pair someone with a mate they’d never meet, or would vastly outlive. You had been born with your link, unable to see any color. 

You had spent so much time wondering when you’d meet your soulmate and what they’d be like. You spent years planning a trip around the galaxy in hopes you might run into them. Fate doesn’t pair people together who will never meet. You’d run into them eventually. 

Then the war started. 

After your home planet had been ravished by the war, you’d decided to join as a medic, using your skills to help aid the millions who risked their lives daily to protect the Republic. 

It had been in passing the first time you’d met the clone named Crosshair. You only knew his name because you had overheard part of their conversation. Clone Force 99 had stopped at the same base as your battalion to resupply. You had passed them on your way to help gather supplies for the med bay. 

Your eyes had met for half a second, but it had been enough. Perhaps you had known back then, but your mind had been so focused on the war, you hadn’t thought twice about it. 

Perhaps that had been why you had decided to stay on with the Empire after the war ended. Many hadn’t, choosing to leave instead. You’re not sure what happened to them. You’re not sure you want to know. 

It had simply been fate that you had been chosen to care for him after his rescue. 

You adjust your grip on your towel, holding onto it for dear life. You don’t know what he’s going to do. You couldn’t possibly guess his next move. 

“You’ve never said anything.” He finally says, thumb tracing the line of your jaw.

“I-I didn’t know.” You admit. “Not for sure. A-And if they ever found out...” You swallow thickly, staring up into those intense, dark eyes. “Could you...reject me?” 

His gaze narrows, and for a horrible moment you think he’s going to. Instead he releases you, turning on his heel as he makes his way from the fresher, leaving you alone. Your knees nearly give out. You take a long breath to steady yourself. He hadn’t answered. 

Would he, if they gave him the ultimatum? 

***

You get your answer a few weeks later. 

The squad had been called to some godforsaken planet where the Empire was setting up another base. Why you had been called there was beyond your understanding. Nevertheless, you went along as you were expected to. 

It all becomes clear when you’re cornered on the landing pad. Your squad, and the surrounding troopers turn their blasters on you and Crosshair. You look up at him in fear, and slight anger, but the look on his face tells you he was not expecting this either. He hadn’t been the one to reveal your secret. So who had? Who knew about you two? You hadn’t told anyone.  

Vice Admiral Rampart joins you, looking far too proud of himself. He steps up to you, looking down at you like you’re the absolute scum of the galaxy. “It appears we have a bit of a situation. It has been brought to my attention that you and CT-9904 share a soulmate bond. As you are likely aware, soulmate bonds cause some...unnecessary complications.”

“You don’t have any proof.” You say, your heart pounding in your chest. 

“I don’t need any.” He smirks at you, turning to face Crosshair. “CT-9904, you will reject your soulmate.” 

Your blood turns to ice, your stomach dropping through the landing platform into the very core of the planet. Would he do it? It has to be his decision. 

“It doesn’t work that way.” You blurt out, trying to delay Crosshair’s answer. “You can’t force him. It has to be a willing decision.” 

Rampart keeps his back to you, facing Crosshair. Crosshair’s gaze is on the tarmac, refusing to look anywhere else. You quietly plead for him to look at you, to meet your gaze. Your heart is pounding so loudly in your ears, you think the troopers flanking you might be able to hear it as well. 

“Shame.” Rampart says, drawing a blaster. “You were a good medic.” 

You don’t feel the pain. You’re in far too much shock to feel anything more than the force of the bolt hitting your chest. It’s a sloppy shot, but it’s more than effective as you stumble back, feet leaving the ground as your body falls over the edge of the platform to the ground below. 

***

You’re sticky when you wake, the familiar gummy feel of bacta on your skin, and in your hair. Many times you’ve felt the same on others after a long soak in a bacta tank. 

Now it’s your turn. 

You feel groggy, eyes slowly peeling open. Sedatives, most likely, so you didn’t wake panicking in the bacta tank. 

You’re lucky you’re waking at all. 

You remember the blaster shot. It was a sloppy one, hitting you to the side of your chest. If it had been to the left, or even centered, things would have been worse. It had sent you backwards off the landing platform. You had fallen unconscious before you hit the ground below, which is likely what saved your life. Fifteen feet, or so you had to guess. 

You remember waking momentarily on the ship. Crosshair was with you. He had been looking down at you, nothing but pain and guilt on his face. That had been the last thing you’d seen before waking now. 

The world around you is blurry, but you can’t mistake the sterile white of a med bay. You can’t feel much of anything aside from a slight ache in the back of your head. You lift a hand to your face, rubbing your eyes. 

You hear someone approach, a figure stopping next to the bed. 

“Oh good. You’re awake.” They say. 

You recognize that voice. You pull your hand away from your eyes, blinking up at a face you’ve seen probably half a million times. You sit up in bed with a gasp, beginning to panic. Had the Empire realized you’re alive and taken you somewhere? What about Crosshair? Had they decommissioned him already? 

“Easy.” A hand falls on your shoulder. It’s gentle, trying to get you to lay back down. “You’re safe here.”

You let the clone medic ease you back down into the bed. “Where?” You ask, your voice rough from your dry throat. 

“I can’t say exactly, but you’re not with the Empire. This is a safe place for clone deserters set up by Captain Rex.” He runs a quick scan of your body. “You’re perfectly safe here.” 

You lean up on your elbow, motioning towards the monitor. “Let me see. I’m a medic.” 

He turns the monitor towards you, showing you a side by side of what was most likely a scan when you arrived, and then one now. You wince as you look at the scan before your soak in the bacta tank. 

“You were in bad shape.” He says. “Few more minutes and you might not have made it.” 

“I’m shocked I made it at all.” You say. By all rights, you shouldn’t have. You weren’t supposed to. 

“You had some intervention on the way here.” The medic says. “Without it, I don’t think you would have.” 

You glance around the med bay, but it’s just you and the medic. Did Crosshair bring you here? How had he known about this place? Did he leave you here? 

You’re beginning to feel a tug in your chest, a yearning to see him again. Had he initiated the bond? If he had intervened to try and save your life, he must have done it out of necessity. If you’re beginning to feel it, he must really be feeling it. 

After some negotiation with the clone medic, Nitro you learned his name is, he clears you to at least take a shower. You know from the scans you’re more than fine to be up and moving around. All you have is some residual pain from your injuries which would be gone in a few hours. 

You follow his directions towards the freshers, but you don’t really need them. You follow the tugging in your chest, listening as it gets stronger and stronger. You pause outside one of the fresher doors, glancing both ways down the hall before stepping in. The door isn’t locked, almost like it’s an invitation. 

There’s steam hazing the room, but you can still see him. He’s in the shower, hands pressed against the wall in front of him. The spray hits the top of his head, water cascading down his body. 

Your hands shake as you begin to pull off your clothes. You’re taking a risk. He’d stop you, though, if he wanted to. He knows you’re there, even if he hasn’t looked at you. He’s too good of a soldier not to. 

You step into the shower behind him, slowly wrapping your arms around his slim waist. You can feel the lean muscle, every ridge of it as you press your face against his back. Warmth floods through you as you make contact with him, easing the tugging in your chest. He lets out a long breath, probably feeling the same. 

“You didn’t reject me.” You say, flattening your hands against his stomach. 

“They tried to kill you.” He says, voice devoid of any emotions. 

“They almost did.” You say, pressing yourself closer to him. “You defected for me.” 

One of his hands drops to gently rest against yours on his stomach. “I did a lot more than that.” 

You can tell by the tenseness of his shoulders, it’s not going to be a pleasant retelling later. You press a gentle kiss to the tan skin, closing your eyes as the water sprays over you both. 

He spins around, startling you at the sudden movement. Your back presses against the wall of the shower as you look up at him, his body blocking the spray as he looms over you. His hand comes to rest against your jaw, a mirror of when you’d discovered your soulmate link. You lift a hand, wrapping it around the back of his neck. 

You both move seamlessly, meeting each other in the middle as your lips press together. Warmth blooms beneath your skin, your nerves buzzing with electricity and energy. He presses closer, every inch of your bodies touching. You want to pull him closer, you want to draw him into your very soul.

He lifts you easily, your legs wrapping around him as he uses the wall to hold you in place. His lips leave yours, his face pressing into your neck. You wrap yourself tighter around him, holding onto him like he might disappear if you let go. 

You know he won’t. 

Neither of you are going anywhere.

Taglist:

@stressed-cherry

unspoken confessions / crosshair x gn!reader

pairing: crosshair x gn!reader (no y/n). reader has a nickname.

description: you and crosshair are already close, what’s a little closer?

word count: 7,435

warnings: making out – lots and lots of kissing really. mostly fluff with some light angst (if you squint).

it took me a while to love this piece – and i mean like actually like over a month. i was very close to just scrapping the whole thing bc something wasn’t working. so i’m really happy i pushed through and got it to a place where i’m happy and proud of it <3

also posted this on ao3. some of you may have already read it on there sorry i’m posting this a few days late. feedback is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated <3

The Marauder sat in an Alderaanian landing bay as the Batch stopped to repair, refuel and replenish supplies after their last recon mission. And you and Crosshair were still arguing about the outcome of your ongoing contest.

Confined to the cockpit on Tech’s instruction while he patched up the hull from droid blaster shots, both of you were in the pilot seats. Crosshair’s feet were kicked up on the control panel, toothpick dangling from his lips with his arms crossed. You sat to his right; the chair turned to face his profile as you sat cross-legged.

“The headshot on that droid was Tech’s, not yours,” Crosshair shook his head, moving the toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other.

“I’m telling you; it was mine,” you leaned back in your seat and propped up your feet in Crosshair’s lap looking at him with a smirk. “What good are those enhanced eyes if you can’t see me when I beat you?”

“You didn’t beat me, sarad,” Crosshair shook his head, a smile pulling at his lips as he pushed your feet off his lap playfully. “Just admit you lost.”

Keep reading

strung wires [crosshair x reader]

pic credit: @starqueensthings

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

it's crosswhore hour babes lets gooo

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

find here on ao3 ~ wanna be notified every time i post a fic? join the taglist here!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He's got you trapped real good.

dividers by @saradika ~ tags: @pb-jellybeans

Heyyyyy love, I absolutely love everything you write. I have an itty bitty request!

Would you be able to write a cute fluffy fic with a plus sized female reader with tech with just a touch of spice to it?

You could also make it fun and do one for all the batch members?

Please and thank you if you can!! 🥰🥰

*fun fact - I made that tech edit many moons ago so I’m happy to see it still be used! 🥰🥹*

Plus Size***

All Bad Batch Boys X F!Reader

warnings: Mild NSFW, suggestive themes, plus sized female reader, confident reader (we’re all beautiful plus size or not!), mentions of a busty reader in some parts. Tech and Hunters parts are with an established relationship, others are not.

Authors note: decided to do small one shots for each of them in this post, write more for Tech and Echo because… it’s them ♥️ hope that’s okay with you @clonehoe- sorry for the wait !!!

Masterlist

Tech

Tech was watching you work with great interest, proud of the progress you had made in learning all the tips and tricks necessary for ship repairs. As he observed you beneath the control panel, clad in a snug tank top and form-fitting black pants that accentuated your every curve, he couldn't help but feel his heart rate skyrocket.

"Has the light come on yet?" you asked, your voice slightly muffled by the spanner between your teeth as you glanced up at him for assistance. The ship was scorching hot and it didn’t help that you were settled on a planet that had two suns to add to the heat. The heat system has always been faulty and despite you telling Tech you wanted to focus on fixing that, he was set in you fixing the hyperdrive first.

"Not yet. Try rotating the wiring counterclockwise. That should do the trick," he replied, his voice strained as he watched you work under his guidance. "There it is..." he murmured, his gaze darting to the lights above the control panel as you worked to fix the hyperdrive. "Good girl," he added, his endearment causing a flurry of excitement in your stomach.

Despite the nickname making you momentarily lose your concentration and hit your head against the side of the panel, you managed to remain focused on the task at hand. "Is it working now?" you asked, seeking confirmation with a smile as you wiped sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand.

"Yes, I have to say, I'm very impressed with your skills," he said, helping you out from under the control panel until you plopped down in a nearby seat to catch your breath.

"Yeah?" you asked, seeking reassurance.

"Absolutely," he replied, though his eyes were preoccupied with the alluring contours of your physique. "Perfect," he added, struggling to meet your gaze.

You couldn't help but smirk as you watched Tech struggle to keep his composure under your teasing gaze. Folding your arms over your chest, you subtly pushed your bust up to enhance your assets, causing Tech to wipe the steam that had suddenly formed on his goggles.

"Anything in particular that you're impressed with?" you asked, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

"W-well, it's hard not to be entranced by you looking the way you do while working under my command," he stammered, sitting up straight and tucking away his data pad. "I've adored your appearance since the first day we met, and seeing you all - forgive me - sweaty and wearing tight clothes is quite a fever dream," he added, his words causing a blush to rise on his cheeks.

You stood up slowly and took a couple of steps towards Tech, tilting his chin up to meet your gaze. "That's very sweet of you to say, Tech," you replied, your voice dripping with false innocence and a hint of teasing. "I am feeling a little sweaty though. Perhaps a shower would cool me down," you hinted, hoping he would pick up on your not-so-subtle suggestion.

Tech stood up abruptly, his hands flying to your waist and his fingers digging into your fleshy skin. "Perhaps since you helped me repair my ship, I could help you get freshened up," he offered, his lips trailing down your neck and over your chest despite the sweat that covered your skin.

"Eager, are we?" you asked, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck and suppressing a sweet sigh.

"Very much so," Tech groaned, holding you as close as possible. The two of you were rarely alone on the overcrowded ship, and with his brothers gone on a mission, Tech wasn't about to waste the opportunity to map out your whole body with his tongue.

Echo

"Trooper, what appears to be the issue?" Your entrance into the medbay had Echo stunned, his eyes locked onto your stunning, curvaceous figure and beautiful eyes.

He found himself gaping, struggling to find his words as he wished he had accepted help from the medical droid instead of being left in this state of awe.

"Trooper?"

Apologising for his silence, Echo managed to inform you of his injury to his femur that he sustained during a mission that had left him more grumpy than usual but your soft smile and calm presence helped to ease his nerves. Though, he was a little preoccupied on how your uniform was snug but not to the point it looked bad. It look really good.

He always took himself for a gentleman but as he gapes at you with hungry eyes, it was hard not to get enthralled by you.

You sat down next to him with a datapad, ready to take notes. "Can you tell me how this happened?" you asked with a soft smile.

Echo explained that he sustained the injury during a mission when heavy debris fell on him. You expressed sympathy and asked, "Are you in any pain, sweetie?" You were surprised by the endearment that slipped out of your mouth, although neither of you mentioned it. Then again, you did think he was much cuter than any other clone he had seen.

"Just a little, not as much as before," Echo replies steadily, hoping his blushing cheeks aren't too noticeable.

"I see. Have you been taking any medication for it?"

“No ma’am,”

You nod in understanding and stand to your feet again, placing your device to the side and slide on a pair of gloves. “Do I have permission to touch your leg to feel for any breaks?”

“Yes please.”

You both blink at one another and the quick realisation of what Echo just said sunk in fast but, you were blushing which was a good sign… wasn’t it?

“I mean, uh, do what you have to do ma’am.” He clears his throat, keeping his eyes diverted away from you but you could only smile at him in return and proceed to gently caress his thigh.

“Does it hurt here?” You ask, adding gentle pressure.

“No,” He says through gritted teeth, absolutely loving the touch of your hands on him - even if you were a stranger and even if it was simply your job.

“And here?” You ask again, applying pressure to a different area and as he winced in pain, your question was answered.

After a few more assessments, you highlighted that his femur isn’t fractured, only bruised and should heal naturally on its own. As you give the diagnosis, it went through one ear and out the other because again, his eyes being to wander and land on your hips as you turn away but caught him looking as you turn back to him.

You place your hands to your hips and smirk, “See something you like, Trooper?”

Echo’s eyes widened and he mumbled a thousand apologies at once, stumbling off the bed and thanking you for the help. You had a inkling that you may be seeing him again sometime. Well, you hoped so.

Hunter

Watching you work out was one of Hunter's favourite pastimes. The day was sweltering, and you naturally dressed in less clothing than usual for your workouts.

"Can I join you?" Hunter approaches you with a grin, sporting nothing but shorts that accentuated his tanned and toned body in the sunlight.

Finding yourself gaping in awe at his body too, you can only smirk back, slipping into a fighting stance and recalling every technique that Hunter had taught you. "How could I say no to you?" You ask and as you move, sweat drips from your body, enhancing your already alluring figure and heightening Hunter's senses.

"Good form," he compliments, stepping closer to you. His tone hints at his admiration for not only your workout performance but also your physique.

"Oh really?" You turn your head to glance at him, your eyes twinkling with amusement. "Why don't you demonstrate some other stances for me?"

Hunter relishes in the playful tone of your voice and steps up behind you, placing his hands tenderly on your hips, which he always yearns to touch. "Angle your body to the left and add a bounce to your knees," he instructs, guiding you through the movement. Though he knows you are capable of executing the exercise on your own, he can't resist the opportunity to have his hands on you.

You follow his directions but find yourself a little distracted by his touch. Even with his heightened senses, it feels as though Hunter is transferring his energy to you as his fingers caress the curves of your hips, trailing down to your thighs and back up to your arse, sending shivers down your spine. “Hunter…” you find yourself moaning his name, earning a low chuckle.

“Don’t get distracted by me,” he breathes down the nape of your neck but with his bare torso against your back and his hands roaming your body, it was so hard not to.

Wrecker

Wrecker had always admired your body, but it was your thighs that truly captivated him. At first, he was drawn in by your beauty, and it took some time for him to realize the full extent of his fascination. It wasn't until he saw you wearing shorts to bed one night that he truly understood the power of your curvy legs.

Now, as you lay on your cot reading a holobook, legs propped up in the air, Wrecker found himself once again unable to tear his gaze away from your thighs. He was so engrossed in his own thoughts that he didn't notice you watching him until you decide to speak up.

"May I make you an offer, Wrecker?" You asked, and he nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of your voice. He cleared his throat and tried to act casual as he responded.

"Sure, what is it?"

"If you promise to stop staring at my legs all the time, I'll let you come over and give them a massage," you smirk, lowering your holobook to look him in the eye. Wrecker felt his face flush with embarrassment. Had it been so obvious that he couldn't take his eyes off you?

He started to stammer out an apology, but you cut him off with a wave of her hand and a soft smile.

"I don't mind," you say, sitting up until you’re sitting on your legs and teasingly entice him over by beckoning him with your finger. “I like to think they’re my best assets,” you comment, patting your legs that made them subtly jiggle which almost made him drop his helmet he was cleaning.

“Well, they are pretty.” He stands and comes closer until he sits on the edge of your bed watching you shift from your current position to you sat with them laid out. “Did ya mean your offer?” He asks, fingers twitching to reach out and touch your skin.

“I did,” you smirk, “go ahead.”

His hands come down to your thighs, large and rough yet gentle as he caresses your skin. He watches you for your reaction and as you tilt your head back and sigh in satisfaction, he knew he made the right choice in accepting your offer.

Crosshair

Crosshair watched as you struggled to hit the bottles he had set up as targets. He shook his head in disapproval and clicked his tongue, his new found admiration for you mingling with his frustration at your poor performance. But, he couldn’t help but also admire the view of you.

"You're doing it all wrong," he chided from the sidelines. To which, you let out a heavy sigh and nearly threw the rifle to the ground in frustration.

"I'm standing exactly where you told me to," you huffed, earning an eye roll from Crosshair. He approaches you, a small smirk on his lips as he positioned himself behind you.

"No, you're not," he teased, but he softened his tone as he sensed your frustration growing. "Stand here," he instructed, pointing to a spot next to him.

Reluctantly, you obeyed, standing close to him as he instructed you to raise the rifle and relax your shoulders. Crosshair watched you with his sharp eyes, feeling a sense of power as he towered over you.

"Okay, now what?" You asked, breath steady as you glanced back at him. You couldn't help but feel weak in the knees whenever he looked at you like that. He always had a hold over you, and him being so close to you now didn't help.

"Don't look at me, look at the target," he commanded. His voice, which usually dripped with venom, was surprisingly soft and alluring.

Turning away, you let out a small and surprised gasp as his hands come to your waist but to your surprise, he let out a small gasp himself.

“Wow princess,” he cooed, his fingers melting against the curve of your body, “I always knew you had a beautiful body but to touch it… stunning.” He breathes down your neck.

Your eyes widened at his words but you succumbed quickly to his touch, your back pressed against his chest as his hands begin to roam your body. “Y-you like my body?” You question with a hint of insecurity but your question is answered as he finally places his lips to your neck.

“I love,” he sighs, caressing your body from over your clothes, “every inch.”

You end up dropping his weapon eventually, it clanging to the floor with a thud and as you go to apologise, he spins you to face him, close and dominant. “Screw it,” he grunts, devouring your lips with his own.

That was enough teaching for one day…

Masterlist

My Kofi

Tags: @nunanuggets @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @cwarssimp @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @oohyesplease @megafrost4 @theroguesully @equalityforcats @mustluvecho @misogirl828 @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @chxpsi @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @kixs-husband @pb-jellybeans @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @agenteliix @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @imalovernotahater @swiftiexstarwarssimp @the-good-shittt @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @erellenora

Comfort and Chamomile

A Bad Batch Fanfiction

Pairing: Crosshair x Reader

Word Count: Aprox. 750

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nar Cyar’ika

Crosshair x Jedi!Reader

A/N: Thanks you so much to @starrylothcat and @a-single-tulip for going over this for me!

Prompts given: Telling someone you love them while you think they’re asleep and tentative kisses in the dark.

Warnings: 18+, unprotected p in v (wrap it up irl), Crosshair being Crosshair, canon battles, violence, clone deaths 😭, if I’ve missed anything please @ me.

Word Count: 6.8k+

Tagging: @techs-feral-wife

“General! Look out!”

Upon hearing the warning, you automatically threw your hands up as the debris littered the ground around you. Casting the force shield as wide as you could to cover your troops, but still, the finer dirt rained down. The hiss of it was accompanied but the smell of burnt alloy, broken droids, and the freshness of the gauged earth.

“Captain?!” You called, choking on the fuel heavy air.

“All in one piece,” He responded wearily. He was feeling a little grim and tired but he was still there unharmed, as were the rest of the clones that held the line. A whole month you’d been out here. Fighting back droids in an endless barrage, constant casualties as men dropped around you, something you took personally.

Too many nights had been spent holding a dying man’s hand, trying to ease his passing and take away the pain of his wounds. You knew the name of every single one, taking a piece of their armour for their brothers, because that was all you were allowed. Your ship wasn’t built to carry home dead troopers, only the ones still breathing.

“Incoming!” A trooper’s yell alerted you to act. It was instinctive, reaching out with the force, directing the missile off to the side of your positions, and exploding in a shower of wood and earth. The trees groaned, crashing to the ground and taking out some advancing clankers under the thick trunks; starting a chain reaction of more explosions that beat the air around you.

“ETA on our reinforcements?” You had requested help, a few extra platoons would tip the scales in your favour and you hoped they were arriving in the next few minutes. You hefted your DC-17m and began to shoot some droids, the repeat blasts kicking back into your armour as you swept some bolts along the Separatist front line, picking your targets through the trees and hitting the mark every time.

Captain Wilco was shooting beside you, his helmet nodded and you knew he was talking on the internal com. It was frustrating that as a Jedi you didn’t have a helmet and only a com on your wrist. That was no good while you were shooting.

“ETA 2 minutes, General,” he relayed steadily.

“Do we know how many?” He hesitated at the question and you felt his faint emotion change through the force.

“Make me happy, Captain,” You ordered as you took out another B1 droid.

“Just a single Commando Squad…”

“Beexes! Heading straight for your position, General!” The warning came through the comlink this time and you lowered your blaster, hiding behind a wide tree trunk as Wilco slammed in beside you, blasters upright and pointing at the sky as he took a second to breathe. The swift thunk of bolts sounded loud, shedding some splinters of wood near your shoulder. You hated these droids.

“Hold this,” You said, holding out the deecee.

“Is it time to show off?” He asked, twirling his blasters and shoving them in their holsters before taking your blaster.

“Yeah, it’s time to show off.” Drawing your twin blades free was always an exhilarating moment. The yellow-green cast of the plasma was a beacon to your troops. When the lights were lit, it meant their General was getting personal with the clankers.

You could feel the fresh prick of adrenaline, spinning away from your cover and stabbing the first droid under the chin. The alloy melted, no match against your lightsaber and your nose wrinkled at this smell of ruined circuits.

Shedding the dead weight you bounced some bolts away, noticing three more heading straight for you. Three. You were tired, your shoulder ached and your entire body was being pushed to its limit but you soldiered on. Wilco fired from the cover you provided but they barely slowed the droids down.

Any second…any second. You could sense them, the squad that had been sent to help hold your position and now you knew why they had only sent one. At first, you’d expected Omega, maybe even Delta if they were ordered hard enough…no. They’d sent the squad you would take above all others.

You flowed through the motions, relying on the force to tell you what was headed your way a few seconds before it actually happened. A bolt aimed at your shoulder penetrating your armour, another coming to pierce your side. Your blades swung, reflecting the bolts away not having the time to direct them. The droids crossed paths, their legs easily picking over the uneven terrain as they jogged. Bringing your blades in an X, you clashed them together before wrenching them apart and pushing with the force.

To your annoyance they contorted, refusing to fall over and you felt a flash of anger. Spinning around you concentrated, letting go of your left saber to guide it in an arc slicing off the head of a droid.

Two down, two to go.

Now they were upon you, one constantly on the move as it shot at you while the other pulled a vibrosword from literally nowhere. Going toe to toe with a BX droid was not on your to-do list today, let alone four of them. It met you swing for swing, with the added distraction of the other one shooting at you, this really wasn’t a fair fight.

An explosion that made the earth roll beneath your feet caught you completely off-guard, and you stumbled. The tremor rocked through your body, jolting your sabers from your grip and the droid saw its chance. It lunged to grab you by the throat, lifting you as you clawed at the metal arm that had you in a vice-like grip.

“General!” You closed your eyes at the sound of Wilco’s desperate yell.

No, please no! Your mind was frantic and you did the only thing you could think of. Throwing your hand out, you pushed Wilco back. You didn’t need him coming to your recuse and getting himself killed. He was swept off his feet, landing heavily on his back. Your legs were kicking, trying not to succumb to the panic, but you couldn’t stop it. You weren’t a born soldier, all your years at the temple could not have prepared you for this side of war. You were a peacekeeper. That’s what they’d told you anyway.

You began to gasp, reaching into the force to try and find the strength to ease this droid’s grip but your concentration was slipping. Your body was failing and so was your mind as your lungs burned for some air.

“Oh, no you don’t.” Light flared across your blurred vision, the sound of your lightsaber cut through the fog in your mind and you felt yourself fall to the ground. Dragging the tainted air into your lungs you were finally able to take a breath. Hands grabbed you, hauling you to some cover and you were able to see who your saviour was.

Captain Wilco was shooting with your repeat blaster around the side of the tree, his shots sporadic to indicate fewer targets were in his line of sight. It was the other soldier that interested you right now, his black and red helmet thrown into stark relief in the light of your saber.

The light side of his helmet was a complete dichotomy to the dark tattoo that marked the same side of his face. He now cocked it as he peered at you from behind the wide visor. “You’ll be needing these.” He remarked, retracting the blade before depositing them firmly in your grip. Hunter yanked his knife free of his vambrace, staying in a crouched position, and peered around the tree. “Crosshair...” you heard him murmur through his vocoder and you knew he was talking via the comlink.

“The clankers are regrouping.” You smiled at the bite in the sniper’s voice. You couldn’t see him but you could feel him high up the side of the hill, his presence was always loud to you through the force. Even across the distance that had been between you the last five months, you’d always been able to reach out to him.

“Are you all right, General?” Wilco had that smooth tone to his voice, the one that told you he had shut down all his feelings and was reacting purely on instinct right now. This man was going through the motions.

“Fine. I’ll be sporting a new collar of bruises though. Now I know what Captain Rex was moaning about.”

“Orders?” Crosshair’s voice slithered through the com channel and Hunter turned to look at you as he waited.

“This is your party, Sarge. Go, do what you do.”

“You heard the General, boys. Let’s finish this.” Hunter melted away, prompting you to get up.

“Captain,” Wilco was by your side, letting you lean on him as your legs shook. “Let’s watch the show.”

“Not a single clanker left,” Wrecker announced loudly as they walked through the carnage to your position. Your robes were singed, and the armour you wore over the top was carbon scoured and would need a good clean. Your throat was still sore every time you swallowed but you wouldn’t let the medics near you. There were far worse injuries littering the field.

“I’m glad you boys decided to make it.”

“Sorry,” Hunter replied, pulling his helmet off and giving you a cocky smile. “Had to stop and ask some clankers for directions.”

“And there I was thinking we were making enough noise.” As you spoke your gaze drifted over the Sergeant’s shoulder to fix on the figure that was striding to join his squad. He was tall, his long legs picking their way easily over the droid shrapnel; the firepuncher pointing at the ground but held in a way you knew it could lift and take out a droid in less than a second.

“Your position was easy enough to triangulate. Plus, we sourced the coordinates directly from your ship when we answered the call.” Tech had his nose in his datapad, no doubt keeping an eye on the com chatter so he was alerted to any change in the GAR.

“What’s next?” Hunter asked.

“General.” You turned to face Wilco, he was holding a holodisk in his hand, depicting an image of your Admiral who was currently in orbit over the planet you stood on.

“Orders from Coruscant?” You queried and he nodded.

“We have been told to return immediately. The Fearless is coming to relieve us.”

“We do all the hard graft and then someone else sweeps in and just holds it for us.” Shaking your head you tried not to be tempted by the anger that loomed. You knew why they did it, you created results. The 71st made waves, they got things done and you all were a formidable force against the droids. “Say, you boys fancy some RnR? It’s been a while since we caught up.” You could feel Crosshair scrutinising you from under his helmet, you felt the jolt that your suggestion gave him except it wasn’t his decision.

Hunter cast his eye over the squad but it was Wrecker that answered. “Aw, yeah! Been a while since we had some decent food.”

“Plenty of that up top. What do you say?” Your offer hung in the air for a moment as they all exchanged glances with Hunter.

“Yeah, why not,” Hunter said slowly.

“Saves on fuel,” added Tech.

“Captain, contact the ship and let them know Clone Force 99 is going to dock with us. They’re going to need supplies and fuel if we can spare it.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He turned away to the sound of the lartys as they landed.

“I need to accompany the wounded. See you on the flight deck.” Hunter gave you a salute, briefly touching his bandana and flicking his fingers away, but your gaze was settled on the sniper. He backed away, his attention clearly on you and it took all your concentration not to physically reach out to him.

So you used the force instead, stretching over the few metres that separated you, frustrated that he was so close and still so far away. A frown tugged on your brow when you felt he was…angry. It created heated spots in the force around him and he suddenly turned away, spinning abruptly and stalking after his squad mates.

Walking in the opposite direction you distracted yourself as you did after every battle, by concentrating on your clones.

You hated the aftermath. The way their adrenaline trickled away just left exhaustion and pain. The air in the gunship reeked of blood, dirt, sweat, and men. You were used to it, aware that you didn’t smell any better yourself. The whole battalion had been planetside for five days this round and they deserved a well-earned rest.

“Jumper…” you crouched beside a clone who was slumped in a brother's lap, barely able to hold his head up. There was a mark on his white chest plate, the red cross of no treatment, and tears sprang to your eyes.

“General,” He wheezed.

“Hang on soldier, we’re going home.” You took his hand and concentrated. Nothing you could do would stop the inevitable, all that was left was to ease his pain. “You fought bravely today,” you murmured. He sighed loudly and you hitched up a smile. “The meds working?”

“Yeah. Thanks, General…” You had no idea if he knew what you’d done or not. By the time you’d stood up and moved to the next soldier, he had taken his last breath.

You waited on the flight deck, supervising all the wounded being taken, giving a comforting word to the exhausted ones left behind. You were hurting, trying to keep your brave mask on until you could fall apart in your quarters. Attachment rules be damned, how could you not feel the ache with each life that was lost? When you personally felt their passing through the force and the void they left behind?

“Ship docking!” The Marauder glided effortlessly onto the flight deck, turning so tightly, it made some of the troopers watching hold their breaths but you’d seen Tech pilot this beauty before.

“Get a fuel line ready,” you ordered a clone and he jumped up to carry out the task.

The squad disembarked, casting uneasy glances around the matching faces that openly stared at them. You knew if any other Jedi had asked they would have refused the hospitality.

“Jet’ika! There she is!” Wrecker wasn’t one for protocol and acting appropriately and you didn’t care, letting the large clone pull you off the ground and into a bear hug that you so desperately needed.

“Wrecker, the regs are watching,” Tech murmured.

“What do I care?” He replied loudly and you grimaced as it echoed over the deck. “Wha’ you looking at?” He demanded from the nearest group.

“You’re embarrassing yourself, Wrecker.” Crosshair shoved past, his golden gaze avoiding yours. Something was up with him, maybe he was just pent up with frustration at not being able to greet you like Wrecker had. You wished he could, your entire body ached to be touched by him.

Five months was a long time.

“You boys hungry?” You asked when Wrecker finally put you down.

“I can guarantee one of us is,” Tech sighed as the big clone proclaimed he was starving again.

“No food fights this time,” You told Hunter, raising an eyebrow. “I had to do a lot of smooth-talking with the Admiral and Captain Wilco last time, not to mention the clean-up droid.”

“They’ll behave this time,” the Sergeant told you in a firm voice.

“Actually, I behaved last time,” Tech stated with a small frown on his face as they all followed you into the turbo lift.

“Only because you weren’t there,” Crosshair pointed out with an annoyed motion, pulling his toothpick out and flicking it at his brother.

Tech shrugged and barely flinched when the small stick bounced off his armour. “A minor detail.”

The doors opened and they stepped out, turning as one to face you. “Go relax, I need to get freshen up and then I’ll come and join you.” Hunter gave you a small nod of acknowledgement, Wrecker beamed, Tech gave you an absent wave and Crosshair didn’t even look at you. The door began to slide closed. Every fibre of your being wished Cross would look at you, so when his blazing, amber gaze finally locked with yours it felt like you’d been stunned, your breath stolen along with all the thoughts in your mind.

Five months was too long.

You went through the motions, raking your fingers through your hair and cleaning the grime of battle from your skin. Dirt and blood swilled away in the stream of water before the timer ran out and you sighed in the quiet space. It was never long enough but you understood the water had to be spread between an entire ship and everyone got the same amount of time in the shower.

You towelled yourself down and then wrapped up your body before stepping into your quarters. You had been so absorbed in what you were doing you didn’t expect someone to be standing by the door, leaning against the wall and you automatically threw your hands up.

“Jumpy,” He sneered.

“Well no one should be in here,” you snapped, still ashamed he’d managed to sneak up on you. Crosshair pushed away from the wall, uncrossing his arms to brush his fingertips against your grubby armour plates. You became acutely aware of how underdressed you were, clutching the towel tightly to your chest.

“You were reckless today.” With his words came a ripple of frustration, prickling at your senses and making you bristle in return.

“Isn’t that what we do on the battlefield?” Your answer made him scoff, dropping the armour with a clatter and looking up at the wall.

“You are not invincible,” he spoke with a sharp tone and his eyes held something hard and disclosed.

“I never said I was!” You gasped when he advanced on you, jabbing a finger into your bare shoulder, making you step back.

“I saw what you did!” He seethed in his icy voice. “For that…reg.” Drawing yourself up with as much dignity as you could muster while naked and only wrapped in a towel, you fixed a heavy glare on him.

“Captain Wilco is a fine soldier and I will not have you talk badly about any of my troopers.”

Crosshair straightened, crossing his arms as he regarded you with a displeased look on his face but that just wound you up more.

“Okay, you know what, Cross? I don’t have to listen to this. I have been down there for the past month watching men, your brothers, drop dead around me as they follow my orders.”

“They are not my brothers,” He spat, his gaze drifting away as though bored with the conversation. You sputtered angrily, the happy image of your long-awaited reunion was being replaced by this—anger and jealousy.

“No. You’ve never lost a brother, have you Crosshair?” Your voice had that hard edge you usually reserved for the Seps and you felt the briefest flash of doubt as it flickered through him before he squashed it.

“You are not one of them. No matter how hard you try.”

You laughed at his harsh statement but it held no joy.

“No? I may not have been pulled from a tank but I have no parents, I was holding a weapon that I knew how to use by the time I was 4 years old. I have seen as much, if not more death than your squad put together. Do you sense the moment a trooper passes? Do you feel it when they just…cease to be?”

His gaze flicked to your face, his eyes softening slightly when he saw the tears that sparkled in your eyes.

“I am not a clone, but they are a little pocket of family that I never had.” Turning away you grabbed your spare set of robes. “Now get out. That’s an order.”

The surge of anger from him was like a whip, making you flinch as he slammed a hand into the panel and shoved his way through the door before it had even fully opened. Your insides quivered as you tried to contain it all, but your shell was cracking, allowing the emotion of the last few weeks to finally show and you covered your face with shaking hands.

If only this wasn’t so hard.

“…and then, I picked him up by his neck.”

“What did Rex do?” Your eyes were wide as you nursed a cup of caf at the table with three members of the Bad Batch. Hunter was eyeing anyone that came too close, he was on edge here and you didn’t blame him. Your troops eyed them just as suspiciously. Tech was splicing some data he’d acquired from the Seps, you weren’t entirely sure and you didn’t have it in you to ask this time. Wrecker was doing a great job of distracting you from dwelling on the fact Crosshair wasn’t here. You could sense Hunter’s focus on you every now and again but you ignored it.

“The Cap couldn’t do much, but Crosshair took on that medic.”

“Kix?” You nudged Tech’s arm. “What did you do?”

“I asked Wrecker to put Jesse down. He didn’t listen.”

“Then I ruined all their fun,” Hunter said. “We can't afford to quarrel amongst ourselves. Crosshair needs that reminder more than most at the moment.”

“Where is he?” Tech looked up from his datapad. “Have you seen him?”

It was such a direct question and for a moment you panicked over what to say before shaking your head.

“He’s probably back at the ship.” Hunter pushed away his tray and went to stand up. Tech instantly followed but Wrecker moaned.

“Is it time to go already?”

“Not quite yet,” Hunter reassured him. “The General here is letting us go before they reach triple zero.”

Tech pushed his goggles up his nose as he looked at his brother. “I need to do some maintenance on the ship before we leave and I could us your assistance, Wrecker.”

“Take food with you,” You told the larger clone, pushing your own untouched tray in his direction.

“Bonus! Thanks, Jet’ika.” You grinned at the nickname. Wrecker had donned you with it the first time he saw you a couple of years ago. He followed Tech out of the food area, chomping happily on the extra food but your attention drifted to Hunter who paused.

“If you see him,” You said in a low voice.

“I’ll tell him.” This time you returned the salute and watched them all leave before making a move yourself.

You visited the medbay, checked on the injured clones, and had a chat with them as your ship sped through hyperspace. Keeping their spirits high was easier because they were heading for some leave. They certainly deserved it. Wandering the almost empty halls you debated heading to the bridge. Casting your senses you tried to get a feel for your ship. It lived and breathed like a living creature, the sheer amount of people in this flying city made it so. But one signature stood out. And he was back in your room.

You followed a familiar path, sensing his inner turmoil even as he slept, drawn towards it like a moth to a flame.

The first time you and Cross had given in, it gave you a thrill. Smoothing out the frustrated ripples in such a clone gave you a deluded sense of power. Not that you had any control over him, that wasn’t what you sought out, it was being needed by someone in a way you’d never been needed before.

You had life experience, more than most of your troops put together but it wasn’t something that was encouraged within the temple. You had seen, felt, and witnessed things that blew your mind. Love, you assumed, was a feeling reserved for civvies, not for Jedi. Compassion, a sense of caring was encouraged but love, raw passion. That was shut down.

And then you met Crosshair.

You had sensed his interest, the curiosity had been hard to ignore and he intrigued you just as much. It had taken you spending months with the Batch on a covert mission for the stoic clone to finally give in. And when it did, it opened your eyes to a feeling that encompassed you both completely. An all-consuming fire that burned whenever you were together.

Except this time. Because you had risked your life to save that of your Captain.

The door opened quietly and you slipped into the dark room. His armour was stacked up at the end of your bed and his breathing was even and steady telling you he was asleep. Crosshair was pressed up against the wall, a pillow of yours held close to his body and you felt a pang of guilt that you had spoken to him in such a way earlier. Sitting on the edge of the bed you sighed, plucking at your Jedi robes.

“This was not how I imagined my day going,” You whispered. This was a cheap move and you knew it, but if you told him now then maybe it would be easier to repeat when he was actually awake. “I’m breaking all the rules,” You confessed into the dark. “I feel like when I’m not with you I’m losing myself but when I am with you…I am not who I should be.” Biting your lower lip you stood up. “I love you, Crosshair. I’m aware I shouldn’t, I know that…but I can’t stop.” Glancing over your shoulder you saw he hadn’t moved, still curled around the pillow that smelled like you with his legs tucked up. “I hope I’m brave enough to say it to you when you’re awake.”

You debated going to find somewhere else to sleep, yet you knew this was the last time you’d probably see him for months and you couldn’t bring yourself to leave. Shedding your robes you carefully slipped in beside him and stared at the ceiling. He shifted and you froze. Crosshair uncoiled, rolling over to face you with the tiniest sigh.

“Look at me.” His was soft, whispering over your skin like the lightest of touches.

You obeyed, turning your face to catch his expression in the lights of hyperspace from the viewport in your room.

“Cross…” You stopped when he put a finger across your lips.

“It’s my turn.”

Your heart was pounding, you hadn’t paid attention to if he’d been awake or not, just assuming he was sleeping because of how even his breathing was. At least he was still here.

Crosshair’s eyes traced the way his finger trailed over your lips, rolling your bottom lip a little and your body responded instantly. He had so much to say, it crowded all inside him but he was never good at expressing how he felt with words and you saw his brow furrow. His fingers ghosted over your cheek, hooking around the curve of your neck and he dared to bring you closer. Your hand shot up to cover his, desperate to be close, to feel him everywhere at once.

Your eyes fluttered when his nose brushed yours, lips parting in a minute gasp when his breath pillowed against your cheeks. Maker help you, but you wanted him. You needed him right now and it coursed through you like the light of a supernova.

His lips were tentative, touches light as he gauged how you were responding to his hesitant advance. Both your mouths were open, neither of you wanting to break the delicate string that held you both suspended on this fine ledge. Anticipation swirled in your chest, it made each breath ache and your limbs tremble as the moment built to an almost perceptible hum in the force.

Your fingers tightened over his, giving him the permission he needed to close that gap between you both and sealing his mouth over yours.

The fall was glorious. Throwing you headlong into the taste of him as he crowded you against the bed. His body half covered you, pressing against your leg and letting you know he was there. A soft moan tumbled from your throat, succumbing to the sensations you had denied yourself for so long.

His mouth never stopped, burying his tongue deep into you and he manoeuvred over you completely, his arms on either side of your head as he swept his hands the sides of your face. Bringing your legs up he settled heavily between them, his body responding to the heat of yours as he rutted gently into you.

Your hips flexed, the friction against your clothed core was enough to make you moan again when you felt how hard he was through his blacks. His mouth left yours to trail wet kisses and nips along your jaw, making you arch into him, exposing your neck. He swept his tongue along your pulse point, pausing to lavish some attention on that place that made you shiver.

Your hands roamed up his muscular back, scraping your nails over the crop of short grey hairs, making him groan into your neck. You felt his lips draw back, the feel of his teeth pressing into your skin made you tense, only to surrender yourself to him completely.

He pulled down your vest top, letting out a warm breath that danced over your clavicle, making goosebumps erupt all over your body. He felt so good in your arms, his weight a comfort you realised you had missed as he slipped down. His hands were urgent, now rucking up your top to expose your heaving chest to him and he wasted no time in taking a nipple into his hot mouth.

Crosshair took his time, making sure you were writhing beneath him, whimpering with need before he moved on to the next part of your body. You pulled your own top off, glancing down to see him watching you with those eyes that almost glowed with the fire that burned within him.

His long fingers curled over the waistband of your pants, exposing your hip which he gently kissed, his gaze drawn to the way your stomach contracted at the teasing contact. Crosshair always noticed everything about your body, the way you moved, how you reacted in a certain way, and he used that to figure out your weaknesses. Of course, you’d never admit he was your ultimate weakness, all he had to do was look at you.

He moved over to repeat the motion on your other hip, tugging your pants down to expose you completely, finally rearing up to detangle you from your clothes. You hooked your legs around his slim waist and ran his hands along the line of your thighs, curling you up as he leaned forward to give you a kiss that had you gasping for air.

You knew what was coming next, Crosshair hardly ever deviated, wanting to get the most out of your encounter every time because neither of you knew when it was going to happen again.

His touch was slow but firm, dipping between your bodies as he leaned over you, supporting himself on one hand, his eyes watching your face when he gifted you with a teasing touch along your slit.

You heard the deep growl in his chest and his eyes closed. Long fingers deftly parted your lips and he brushed against your clit making your hips buck into his hand. When he pushed a finger into you it made your back leave the mattress. Your cunt fluttered around his touch, grasping desperately as he added another finger. He buried them deeply, pushing up and into you with a moan, his shoulders flexing from the motion and you leaned back against the pillow.

Your hands held onto him, legs quivering as he tortured you by drawing his fingers out of your wetness, making sure he was completely coated before shoving back into you, ripping a blissful cry from your chest.

He set a steady pace, dragging his fingers against the clenching walls of your sex, his need to feel every inch of you was something you were used to but never prepared for. Cross stroked that tender spot inside you, his fingertips winding up the coil in your lower belly that would have you eventually melting into the mattress.

His eyes intently watched your expression, his lips parted when he felt you shake around him, he knew you were close, he could feel it. And he pushed you over the edge. His breathing became ragged as you fell apart, his fingers not letting up, carrying you through the pleasure. Finally relenting when you hooked a hand around his tense neck and passionately kissed him.

Crosshair planted a hand on your shoulder, pushing you back onto the bed as he moved further back. His eyes devoured you, fingers sweeping up your inner thighs to collect the wetness that had leaked onto your skin. You watched, your body still thrumming with bliss as he put his fingers into his mouth, lifting his predatory gaze to lock with yours.

“You’re as sticky as uj’ayl,” He murmured.

“Cross…” you whimpered.

“Patience, nar cyar’ika.” His lips connected with your inner thigh, once more dragging his teeth against the softness of your skin, enjoying the way you gasped, hips undulating in a shamelessly desperate motion. He directed his attention to your core, using the flat of his tongue, slowly, teasingly, swirling around your clit.

You felt his fingers there once again, exposing you to his warm breath as he sighed. His mouth covered your entrance and you curled your fists in the covers. His tongue delved deeply, tasting you with a satisfied hum that vibrated up your spine, making you tremble.

Crosshair let you use him, grinding your hips against his face as you moaned desperately. One hand travelled up your body, pressing along your stomach to settle between your breasts, fingers spread so he could feel the throb of your heart as it beat in your chest.

It was gathering again, liquid fire searing through your veins and creating a reaction you had no control over. Your legs came up either side of his head, trying not to crush him so you settled your feet on his back. Your fingers slipped through the short, tough strands of his hair as your whole body flexed.

Your cries filled the room, a hand clenching in the pillow behind your head and your back arched wildly. Still, Crosshair persisted, his tongue stroking you into a blaze that only he could handle. His hips pressed into the mattress, his cock needy and aching to be buried inside you, but he could wait.

He groaned when you flooded his mouth, licking up every drop as your pleasure stole every basic function from your body. Each muscle contorted, holding you in a suspended state as the seal broke on the flames that licked across your sweaty skin.

Eventually, he released you, letting you flop bonelessly among the sheets. You protested weakly when he kneeled between your legs, only to shed his blacks before falling back into your arms.

He kissed you fervently, licking as deeply into your mouth as he had your cunt. He wasted no time in lining himself with your weeping entrance, his cock twitching in anticipation, dragging along the seam between your thighs and notching right where you wanted him the most.

Your hands slid down his back, following the lines of his tense muscles to hook in the plushness of his backside. You left him in no doubt of your intentions, not breaking a motion in the kiss as you widened your hips and used your arms to pull him forcefully into you.

He gasped when you clenched around him, seating himself to the hilt in your slick as his face rested on top of yours. His breath was strained and lust laden, his tongue coming out to lick at your lips making you whine as you did the same.

Crosshair filled you, creating a pressure inside you that was unrivalled, and it made your body quiver. Your grip on him relaxed when he began to move, pulling free until only the pulsing head of his cock was nestled comfortably inside you.

The snap of his hips was loud and you cried out together, breaking apart his resolve. There was urgency in his movements, a neediness that transcended words as he worked you both to the point of no return.

It didn’t take him long, already working himself into a state of desperation that he was finally feeding as he rutted into you. “I want to watch you,” He snarled into your lips, pushing up from the bed to kneel again. He lifted one of your legs, holding it up against his flushed chest, and worked his hips, hitting that spot that made your eyes roll. He planted a kiss on your ankle, his ferocious gaze magnetised to yours.

Your body was rung out and taut at the same. Your throat hurt, torn from the cries he pushed from you with each thrust. You knew you were going to ache all over for the next few days but it would have been worth it. Crosshair’s fingers imprinted on your skin, the sweat of his body dripped with yours creating a heady cocktail that sent your senses soaring. He was everywhere, suffocating you in the most desirable way as he began to lead you to the precipice once more.

His thrusts became sloppy, his cock pulsed inside you, eyelids fluttering as he tried to keep his attention on your face. A faint roar sounded in your ears as your blood flushed. Lightning shattered under your skin, electrifying your body to the point where you became hyper-aware of every nerve ending.

Crosshair bared his teeth, sweat beaded on his temple and he picked up the pace to bring you both drastically to a catastrophic end. His spine curled toward you when he came, his form juddering as he growled, pushing his hips into you and exploding deep in your cunt.

You were incoherent, only able to scream his name from the pressure, your nails dragging along the firmness of his sides. Your vision faded out, your heart was fit to burst with every slight thrust that sent intense shockwaves through your body.

He released your leg, letting it flop down and he fell on your lips once more, heaving in your scent and coming down from his high. His arms slid under you, gathering you into his embrace as you both listened to the knock of each other's hearts.

You lay entangled together, your face tucked against his chest and he rested his chin on the top of your head. Your fingers were tracing lazy patterns on his cooling skin, trying not to dwell on the fact he was leaving soon.

“Did you mean it?”

You froze at the question, suddenly remembering what had started this whole encounter.

“Mean what?” You focussed on the way his throat tensed, frustration coming through the turbulent calm because you were forcing him to explain.

“What you said.”

“I thought you were asleep.”

He sighed.

“I’m not anymore.” His voice was quiet, almost hesitant and you risked leaning back to look into his face. His gaze roamed openly over your features, almost as though he was committing you to his memory and so you did the same.

Using your fingertips you followed the cut of his jaw, feeling the stubble that was starting to shadow his face. You brushed a thumb over the darkness of his tattoo, knowing what resided behind such a mark. It didn’t matter how many times this man tried to push you away, or how strongly he believed he wasn’t good enough for you, nothing could stop you from wanting him.

“Yes, I meant it.” There was a wave of warmth, tinged with surprise, he hadn’t expected you to admit outright. “I don’t care about the consequences,” You whispered.

“You might.”

You shook your head, fingertips delicately tracing the curve of his ear.

“Not when it comes to you.”

His arms tensed, pulling you back into his chest and you curled willingly against him, closing your eyes and letting yourself relax. He hadn’t said the words, he didn’t need to. You could sense that he loved you too. He wanted to voice them, you could sense that as well, but he knew the ramifications of what such a declaration meant.

And he was willing to protect you for as long as he had to.

Bad Batch Period Head-Cannons

Authors note: I’ve read a lot of head cannons about the Bad Batch reacting to the reader on their period, and a lot have the batch cuddling with the reader or bringing them chocolate and sweets. But I don’t usually like physical affection or sweets on my period so I thought I’d write for the people that deal with the same thing!

Warnings: None really

Relationship: The Bad Batch x Gn!Reader

Summary: How the Bad Batch react to the reader on their period.

Hunter:

He would know that you’re on your period, but he wouldn’t be sure on what to do.

In the past you’ve had a consistent habit of pushing him away and burrowing yourself into the covers of your bunk. It was a strange behavior to him since you’re usually touchy or want to be touched.

He’s tried bringing you sweet things, but every time he would, you would push that away too and prefer to eat little to nothing at all. It concerned him and he so badly wanted to help you with what you were going through.

It wasn’t until you broke down that he took action and did whatever he could to help you.

He brought you water, lended you an extra blanket, or calmed you down with comforting words of affirmation.

“I’m sorry, Cyare. I’m sorry I can’t help you more.” He would say. “You’ll feel better soon, I promise you’ll feel better. Please let me help you.”

He would sit with you for a while, long after you calmed down and fallen asleep.

He still hasn’t figured out how to help you more, but he knows that he will always be by your side.

Wrecker:

Wrecker is an affectionate kind of guy, it’s just in his nature! So when you push him away one day, he is hurt and confused.

He would pout in a corner, watching you lay in your bunk, occasionally shifting uncomfortably and readjusting your pillow.

You eventually look behind and whisper that you’re on your period and that you just wanted to be left alone, but he could still sit beside you.

He would move closer, gently twirling a strand of hair in between his fingers.

He understands what a period is, he isn’t dumb. When he thought about it, he could remember past times where you would push away his affection, or refuse sweets he had bought after missions.

“How long does this last?” He stares at your face, watching it contort up in pain. You would tell him it lasted 3 to 7 days and he would gasp in surprise. “That’s a long time! How do you do it, Ad’ika?”

He would sit with you for while, chatting animatedly about whatever to distract you, his energy thriving. It would make you happy and forget all about the pain in your abdomen.

Tech:

Tech does not care much for physically touch to begin with, so you would not have any issues with getting him away.

He would talk your ear off though, staying facts about menstrual cycles and all the side effects.

It’s stuff you already knew and you would get annoyed quickly and tell him off. He wouldn’t get angry, outbursts and being emotional are side effects after all.

He would bring you pain meds and a heating pad to ease the pain. He would make sure you’re well fed hydrated and buy period products if you needed it. Tech has no shame, it would not bother him.

Eventually though, you would reach out to him, grasping his hand gently while he read up on a heated blanket on his data pad. You don’t like physical touch, it heats you up and makes you sticky, but sometimes you like to make an exception for Tech.

“I though you did not care for physical contact.” He’d state matter of factly. You’d shake your head and say just for a moment. “Whatever makes you feel best, Dearest.” He’d thread his fingers in your own and hold on tight.

Echo:

Right off the bat he would get your water and pain killers. Echo wastes no time in making sure you’re comfortable and ready for the long week ahead of you.

He gets you water and heating pads, making sure the ship is cool enough for you to lay under a blanket, but too cool that you’re freezing.

He would let you borrow his data pad so you could binge all your favorite shows and guard the door to make sure no one bothers you.

He would offer his physical touch just in case you needed it, but you would refuse saying his company is just what you needed.

He would linger awkwardly, thinking of anything else you might need. You would laugh and make him join you by your bedside. You would pat his head and the turn the data pad towards him so he can watch whatever drama you are into.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything sweet, Cyar’ika? I have some chocolate stashed somewhere.” You shook your head no and he sighs. “That’s right, it gives you stomach aches. Maybe something salty?”

He’d leave you once you’ve fallen asleep, preparing whatever else you might need once you wake up.

Crosshair:

Your moody self and Crosshairs moody self does not clash well when you’re on your period.

The minute you woke up on your first day of your period, you pushed him into the floor because of a hot flash. He’d curse and glare at you.

Crosshair already knew the procedure. He’d get you what you needed and then leave you as quickly as possible.

As much as the man loves you, he cannot stand you on your period. Don’t get him wrong, it’s not because he finds it gross or weird. He just isn’t used to you being so agitated and he’s worried he might snap at you and hurt your feelings.

He’ll wait for you to fall asleep before going to see you. He’ll fill up your glass of water, replace your heating pad, and make sure you didn’t have any accidents while you huddled underneath your blankets.

“So needy,” He’d mumbled under his breath. He’ll lean over and give you a long kiss on your lips, a whispered sentence passing his own. “Get well soon, love.”

You would have heard him, pretending to sleep because you knew of his little habit. You would smile once he leaves and wait for him to do it again on the days to come.

fights and hugs (crosshair's pov)

wildflower masterlist

relationship: twi'lek!jedi!reader x crosshair [gn, can be platonic or romantic]

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

word count: 1.8k

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

ryl translations: chi'kan- pervert, keela- darling

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

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

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

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

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

Then you have the audacity to compliment him? Disgusting. So why does he crave it? Why does he get annoyed when you praise his brothers instead of him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That’s when Crosshair notices a stumbling man leering at you. He’s caught off guard by the sudden flash of protective anger he feels. Why is he so concerned? If you can handle yourself on a battlefield, you can handle one pathetic human. Your body language is the opposite of your usual demanor when talking to civilians. You’re usually very open and engaging, easily forming a connection with them. Not now.

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

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

“You their master?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But Crosshair is only half listening. He's more focused on your unsteady hands. “You're shaking."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“... What?”

“I’m not saying it again.”

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

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

“Blossom?” He mutters, thumb absently stroking your lower back.

“Yeah, Cross?”

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

You snort against the crook of his neck. "Whatever you say, keela."

Bad Batch x One Bed Trope

Prompt: You and the Bad Batch were on a mission and things went differently than planned. You and [Insert Desired Clone] got separated from the rest of the batch. You were told that they had escaped off-world and would return in one rotation to come and get you two. So you two find a motel to camp up in. Tired from the mission you accept the first room that was available and the cheapest. You two go to the room only to discover that there is only one bed. How will this pan out with the two of you have been pining for each other but not realizing it?

Notes: This is Gender Neutral friendly!

Hunter

Both of you just stand by the door shocked for a moment, taking in the room. 

"I can sleep on the floor if you want." Hunter offered first, throwing his bag down on the floor at the foot of the bed. 

You instantly shake your head not wanting the higher-ranking sergeant to be sleeping on the floor, "No, I can't let you do that. I can sleep on the floor." 

"Don't worry about me, I've slept in worse places." Hunter was not budging. 

You had to come up with a compromise realizing he was going to be stubborn about this. You quickly realize that no matter what, you will be sleeping on the bed. 

But what if it wasn't just you in the bed? 

"Well, the bed is quite big. What if we both sleep in the bed?" 

Hunter looks genuinely surprised, but reluctantly agrees that was probably the best solution. 

Both of you get ready to go to sleep crawling into bed and keeping a respectful distance between the two of you. 

When the lights go out, your anxieties from today's mission start to grow in your mind. 

It doesn't take Hunter long to realize you are nowhere near falling to falling asleep.

"What's wrong?" His voice is quiet as if he had found you after one of your nightmares and the two of you were trying to keep quiet to not wake the others. 

"Do you think the others are okay?" 

"They should be fine."

The two of you talk quietly to each other about the mission and what is to come next. Quietly talking into the late hours of the night about anything and everything. 

His voice slowly calms your nerves and you start finding yourself relaxing. 

After a moment, Hunter spoke softly again, “Can I be honest with you?”

“Always.”

Hunter reached out into the darkness for you without any more words and quietly pulled you closer to him. 

You were surprised at first, but you trust him enough to wrap his arms around you and hold you close to his body. 

“I’ve wanted to do this since we first met you.” He buried his nose into the nape of your neck, his arms wrapped around your torso as your legs tangled with his. 

You smile into the night, finding his hands and entwining his fingers with yours. You pressed yourself back up against him, “Me too.”

You were quick to fall asleep in his arms, Hunter falling asleep just as fast, holding onto you. 

Wrecker

"Oh, this could be fun!"

You are stunned by Wrecker's excitement that there is only one bed in this room, "What?"

"This can be like one of those sleepovers you told me about! We could stay up late and eat snacks and watch movies!"

He somehow made you laugh and feel a bit better about the whole experience. He was moving around the room excitedly putting all the gear away. 

"I'll go get some snacks! You stay here and start picking out a movie." 

"Be careful, please. They might still be out looking for us." You voiced your concern, considering you two just got finished with a mission. 

He just gave you a dazzling smile, telling you he would be fine. 

You got ready for bed, staying to one side respectfully looking through the movies to watch. 

Wrecker returned quickly, his arms full of all kinds of different foods.

He practically jumped on the bed, the frame groaning from his weight making you laugh. 

"What do you want to watch?" You asked him as he settled himself in the bed, laying out all of the snacks he managed to get. 

"Something fun." 

You nodded, eventually picking out a movie for the two of you to watch and grabbing from Wrecker's food pile to snack on your own.

Not long into the movie, you felt Wrecker's strong hands on your hips, pulling you into his lap. 

You weren't surprised at the physical affection, Wrecker being the one to show that type of affection the most. 

You relaxed into his lap, your head resting back on his shoulder. 

His warmth quickly pulled you to sleep, with Wrecker turning the movie off and wrapping his arms around you, and falling asleep with you.

Tech

You were stunned when you saw only one bed in the room. 

Tech took a moment looking between the bed and his holo pad. 

“Well, I certainly wasn’t expecting this.” He stated, moving to put down everything the two of you had. 

“Do you think one of us should sleep on the floor?”

Tech paused what he was doing looking at the bed, “I don’t think that is necessary. The bed is plenty big for the both of us to have our own respective space.” 

You were honestly surprised he was so calm about the entire thing, watching him go back to putting away and organizing your and his things. 

"You don't have a problem with sleeping in the same bed with me?" 

"Why would I?" 

You had no more words for him and decided that this was okay. So you got ready for bed, settling yourself in with your own holo pad. 

Tech joined you not long, the both of you staying in silence with your own devices.

"Hey look at this," Tech said after a moment, leaning over to show you what was on his device. 

You found yourself smiling and scooting closer to Tech in the bed, "That actually reminds me of something." 

You show him something on your holo pad and before you know it the two of you are quietly sharing information with each other. 

Throughout the conversation of showing each other things from your devices, you realized the two of you got close enough in bed where his shoulder was pressed up to yours. 

Deciding to make a small leap of faith, you laid your head on his shoulder. Tech was unphased, still currently showing you what had interested him on his holo pad.

You don't know when, but you fell asleep like this, with your head on his shoulder. 

You woke up hours later to discover that Tech had fallen asleep as well. His arms wrapped around you with his cheek resting on top of your head. 

His holo pad was squished between the two of you. 

You smile feeling completely warm and comfortable, minus the hard device digging into your skin.

You carefully pull it out from between the two of you, laying his holo pad on the bed next to your own. 

You happily cuddled up closer to Tech, wrapping your arms around him and pressing your cheek against his chest.

Echo

Both of you pause for a moment, staring at the room with only one bed. 

"I guess we can both sleep in it or would you rather I sleep on the floor?" Echo spoke after a while, "I don't mind. I've slept in worse places." 

You shook your head instantly saying no to Echo sleeping on the floor. He had already been through so much, the idea of him sleeping on the cold hard floor did not sit well with you. 

"We can sleep together. The bed is big enough." You offered. 

"Are you sure?" Your comfort was obviously the main concern for you. 

"Yeah. I'm fine." You assured him.

The two of you settle into the bed, keeping a respectful distance between the two of you. 

Echo ends up finding the holo drama the two of you have been watching when you got some downtime. The two of you decide to watch at least one episode. 

“Oh come on. This is a classic trope. Watch, because she’s now in the hospital, he is suddenly going to tell her his feelings about her.”

“Actually I think he’s going to try to tell her, but then feel guilty because she’s hurt. So he decides against telling her. Especially if there are family members in the room.” 

You ended up being right, the both of you softly laughing over the whole thing. 

You started to feel cold, wrapping the blanket around you and starting to shiver, and Echo noticed.

“Are you cold?” He sounds concerned. You shake your head no, but then your body betrays you and starts to shiver. 

Echo reaches over, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, and pulling you to him. His legs are surprisingly warm, the machinery of his legs under covers staying warm compared to when you’ve felt them out on a mission and they were cold. 

“You’re like a heater.” You muttered instantly curling up against him seeking out his warmth.

“Yeah. It surprised me too. My guess is when I’m covered, the airflow seems to get circulated less thus heat. Almost like if you leave a computer on while running a program that's intensive on the CPU.”

“I guess that makes sense. Have you ever overheated?”

Echo shook his head no. 

The two of you focused back on the holo drama you were watching. Once the first episode was over, Echo asked if you wanted to watch another. 

You fell asleep curled up against Echo’s side with your head on his shoulder watching the second episode. Echo was quick to follow suit with his arms wrapped around you.

Crosshair

“Well I guess you are going to be sleeping on the floor,” Crosshair teased the second he saw that there was only one bed in the room. 

“What? No! You are the one who’s going to sleep on the floor.” 

“No, I’m going to be sleeping in the bed.” 

“No, I’m going to be sleeping in the bed!”

“Well, I guess we will have to sleep together then,” Crosshair smirked, putting his things away first and then moving to help you, by just taking your things. 

“Fine.” You huffed already tired from the mission today. You would rather have fewer arguments, “Just don’t get handsy with me. I don’t know where you’ve been.”

“Been around more than you have.” 

“Oh, and that makes you a better person?”

Crosshair just snorts in response. He starts getting ready for bed and you decide to follow his lead. 

The two of you get into the bed, keeping a fair distance between each other. 

“Well, goodnight then.” you sigh and turn off the lights, settling yourself in under the covers. You just hear a small grunt from Crosshair.

It takes you a little to fall asleep, but you eventually do. It was a lot faster than normal considering the fact you had another person in the bed with you. 

In the middle of the night, you wake up feeling a lot warmer. Actually, you feel really warm. 

Throughout the night, Crosshair had inched his way over to you, resting his head on your chest and wrapping his arms around your torso. He held onto you like you were a lifeline in his sleep. 

You found yourself smiling and slowly wrapping your arms around him as well, feeling very comfortable with him here like this with you. You quickly fall back asleep, hugging him to your chest.

If you are interested in joining a pinglist for my writings, feel free to let me know!

Hey, can I please request crosshair x jedi!fem reader

Friends to lovers where they have a sparring match together and then realise they like each other? ty so much <33

hehehe this was cute and fun to write

Crosshair wipes blood from his lip after the most recent blow.

“I thought we were pulling punches, cyare,” He sneers, growing more and more annoyed at this sham of a training session. 

He doesn’t even understand why he has to train one on one, he’s the sniper of the group and rarely ever actually sees the action up close. It’s quite literally his job to be removed from it and stay vigilant. 

“I was,” you chuckle, “You just leaned into it.” 

He readies his stance again, knuckles taped and ready.

“What does that mean, cyare?”

He smirks.

“What, they don’t teach you Mando’a in Jedi school? Just little magic tricks?”

You push him back with the force, and then bounce from foot to foot, switching your stance to let him try and get another shot in.

“All magic tricks, Cross.”

He charges, and you block, but just barely. You pivot to avoid another blow, and then manage to get the upper hand when your elbow lands between his shoulder blades. 

“How about a bet?” you propose, trying to keep your voice even so he doesn’t know you’re catching your breath. He straightens up, rolling his shoulder back beneath his blacks. 

“I’m listening,” he says. He turns to look at you, something unreadable in his expression that you can’t exactly place. Reading emotion was never your strong suit, practice with the force or not. 

“If I win this round you have to tell me what that means,” you state plainly. He’d been calling you ‘cyare’ for days without letting you know what it meant, his brothers all giving you looks each time but none of them actually helping you out and explaining the new nickname. Crosshair’s eyes search your face for a moment, furrowed brows warping his tattoo slightly. 

“And if I win?” he asks, of course. He’s gotta have an angle in this too.

“I don’t know,” you admit, you hadn’t really been thinking before you spoke, “Anything I guess.”

Famous last words. 

Crosshair smirks, and humms. He takes a few steps backwards before getting back into position to fight. 

“I’ll take that bet,” he agrees, and lets you get into position as well. 

The sparring begins slowly, you circle one another, trying to study all of your possible movements. He lunges, and you easily jump out of his way. You kick, and he dodges just as smoothly. Crosshair charges, and you let yourself be lifted by him, only to hook one of your legs behind his knee and pull. Effectively, he grunts as he hits the ground. You grip his shoulders and shove them to the ground, pinning him. 

“You wanna tap out?” you tease.

Crosshair struggles under your grasp, one you know he’s strong enough to break. He’s physically capable of taking you down without the force on your side, but he doesn’t break the hold. He growls under your grasp, but still he doesn’t throw you. 

“Fine,” he hisses, and your grasp on him starts to loosen.

You lean in closely into the hold, bold and prideful of your takedown.

“I win,” you whisper, close enough to the sniper’s ear to kiss. 

You push yourself back up, still holding yourself over him. 

“So what does it mean?” you ask with a smile, ready to hear whatever ridiculous thing it actually means. 

Crosshair looks away, his eyes instead focusing on something across the room as he mouths the translation of the word. 

‘Beloved.’

Thats the word that his lips formed around. Beloved. Beloved. You frown at the word, not because you don’t want him to say that. Not because you don’t want him to call you that. You want him to look at you. 

“Cross…” you trail off, and he turns his head. His eyes look hard, brows set, his lips pressed into a tight line. 

“What did you want if you won?”

That unreadable expression returns to his face again, and then he responds.

“I was going to ask if you would forget your code for a night and come relax with us.”

You don’t respond, your frown only faltering, before you decide to move. You use your leg under his for leverage, and pull until you can roll yourself over, letting him shift until he’s on top of you. 

Your frown breaks, and maybe you even smile. 

“Looks like you win,” you muse, and his scowl breaks as well. 

“I let you win the first time,” he says, shoulders shrugging as he looms over you. 

Somehow, you knew that already. 

“Whatever you say, Cross.”

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

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

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

Relationships: Crosshair/Fem!Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Let's go."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He's so close...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Can you stay the night?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

fights and hugs (crosshair's pov)

wildflower masterlist

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

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

word count: 1.8k

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

ryl translations: chi'kan- pervert

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You their master?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“...What?”

“I’m not saying it again.”

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

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

“Blossom?”

“Yeah, Cross?”

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

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

Aloha!

This isn't going to end well.

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

Warnings: Angst/Violence/Tiny Bit Of Fluff

_________________

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

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

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

___________________

The Fatal Mistake

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Let her go."

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

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

"Get your hands off her, now!"

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

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

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

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

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

"You won't get another chance at this"

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

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

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

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

"Are you sure?" he asks gently.

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

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

"Of course. Anytime, Kitten."

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

@rintheemolion

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@starwarsnerd111

Crosshair carried a clone he just met through a white out blizzard in death-causing temperatures in gear not equipped for said weather with no helmet on and just his rifle for support for TWO NIGHTS AND A DAY AND A HALF

Imagine what he’s done for his brothers during their missions during the war. Imagine what he will do on their missions after they’re reunited and he’s atoning for what he did

requests are open!

currently taking requests for

adrian chase

richie kirsch

hughie campbell

crosshair

tech

Am i being petty? Yes I am.

For clarity:

I am so sick of people just liking my fics without commenting on or reblogging them.

I get that some of you like them for future reading, and others like and don't reblog because it "messes with your AeStHetIc".

But you don't realise that you are ACTIVELY KILLING OFF CREATION. You don't realise that YOU ARE CAUSING WRITERS AND ARTISTS TO GIVE UP ON THEIR PROJECTS AND PASSIONS.

So, from now on, any blog that likes my fics, and doesn't comment on or reblog after a week, is getting blocked.

Unless you state that you are liking for future reading (because I get it, life gets in the way), then I am going to assume that you are uninterested in a creator's passion.

You don't want to support artists or writers, you don't get to enjoy our content.

Beard Batch !

Despite everything.

Hey, can i put in request for our snarky hotshot?

I saw this prompt somewhere and really liked it

“want a massage? i’ve been told that i’m..very good with my hands” and if you’re bored it can lead to some dirty dirty? If that’s the case, body worship maybe? TY soo very much <3

Sorry this took so long lmao. Moving house has been KILLING me. I loved writing this and I hope I did the prompt justice :)

And yes I will continue writing Medic!Reader. Doc is just the perfect gender neutral nickname I am a sucker for when the fic writes itself. No I will not stop and no one can make me.

Crosshair x GN!Reader

(This is my first time attempting to write an actual GN penetration fic so lemme know if it leans to heavily in one way or another. It can be read as either PiA or PiV imo)

Rating: E (18+) Warnings: Unprotected sex, creampie Word Count: 1700+

Masterlist

Crosshair was loitering again. It wasn’t an uncommon thing; he wasn’t exactly subtle about being soft on you. It was a source of constant teasing from his brothers, much to his chagrin. He was very firm about it “No I do not have a ‘crush’ on the doctor Wrecker, grow up” or “they’re just so fun to tease” which would result in knowing looks shared between his brothers as he stormed off to loiter in your office as you finished paperwork.

Today was no different.

You were hunched over your desk, trying to finish off the last of the medical reports so that you could get to sleep at a reasonable hour for a change as you were once again interrupted by the drawl of a certain handsome sniper.

“Your posture is terrible, that’s gotta be bad on your back” you look over to where Crosshair is leaning against the wall of your office, arms crossed over his chest still clad in his armor moving the ever-present toothpick in his mouth from one side to the other. Fixing him with a scowl you adjust your posture slightly before replying “Well no one is asking you to hang around and berate me about it, don’t you have someone else you would rather annoy?” he hits you with his trademark smirk “No”.

You simply sigh before getting back to your work. You try to ignore him, honestly you do, but it’s difficult. His presence is a source of constant conflict for you, he is devilishly handsome, and he knows it. He enjoys flustering you with flirtatious comments and small touches when the situation allows, he enjoys the way you blush and stumble over your words at his teasing, he enjoys it far too much.

You grunt softly as rub your back, maybe he did have a good point. Your back was sore, your eyes were tired, and you wanted nothing more than to go back to your quarters, take a hot shower and fall into your semi-comfortable bed.

“Told you so” you can almost hear the smirk in his voice as he moves off the wall towards you. You sigh and shut off your terminal before glancing over at Crosshair who is now standing behind you, looming over you with his imposing height. “I’m heading back to my quarters Cross, go find someone else to piss off” you tried to snap at him, but your voice just sounded exhausted instead as you rub your shoulders. You stand up and leave towards the direction of your room, attempting to ignore the sniper who was following you.

“You know…” he starts as you look over your shoulder at him, raising an eyebrow “I’ve been told that I’m very good with my hands, if you want a massage” you think about the offer, wondering if this is a joke or if one of you has actually taken the final step in this ‘will they wont they’ situation you’ve found yourselves in. Deciding to throw caution to the wind you simply nod and lead the way to your quarters.

Once inside you feel a little unsure of how to proceed, you never really thought either of you would take this final step towards… whatever it is that’s happening right now, and you never thought this far ahead. You decide to lay down on your bed, face in your pillows as you hear some shuffling from Crosshair behind you.

You feel Crosshair’s long toned legs against your thighs, something that is decidedly not the hard jab of plastoid and you lift your head up to look behind you only to be greeted with the sight of Crosshair in only the bottom half of his blacks straddling your thighs busying himself with a small packet of lubricant that look eerily familiar. “Did… did you swipe that from my office?” you move your head back down into the pillows to stop Crosshair from seeing your blush as he tuts “where else would I have gotten it?” you decide not to question it as you feel his hands under the hem of your shirt. “You gotta take this off doc, I need room to work” you silently follow his command as you shift and allow him to help you remove your shirt. Ignoring the burning heat in your face as you lay your head against your arms on your pillow.

You shudder slightly as you hear him open the packet and rub his hands together, successfully stifling an embarrassingly desperate moan as his hands make contact with your back. He wasn’t kidding, he is really good with his hands. You feel all your tension leave you as he runs his hands along your back, working through the knots and kinks in your muscles as you feel yourself melting into the mattress.

He works his hands lower until his fingers are digging into your hips as his thumbs work on a particularly tense area of your lower back. You fail to stifle your moan this time, you also fail to notice the sharp inhale and movement of Crosshairs hips to the sound. You’re lost in the bliss of Crosshair’s hands as he finally breaks the silence that has settled over the two of you “You know doc… I think I could get better access if you moved your pants down a little” you both know this is probably untrue, but at this point you really don’t care. The two of you have been moving around this for far too long and if this is what it takes for you to finally step over the line, you’re more than ready. You nod as you feel Crosshair’s hands snake their way under your pants and underwear, pulling them down slowly as he reveals more of your skin to him.

“You’re… stunning doc” his voice is breathy with a barely contained desire as he runs his hands down over your bare skin, running his fingers over the flesh of your ass kneading the soft skin before he leans down and starts trailing a line of kisses down your back. “You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted this… wanted you” he continues pulling your pants down further. “I need you to tell me you want this too” his voice has dropped into a breathy whisper as he speaks to you.

You raise your head slightly to look behind you, his face and chest are dusted with a light blush, his eyes are blown wide with lust and there is a very prominent bulge in his blacks. You nod, wetting your lips as you find the words “yes… yes I want this too”. You watch as Crosshair lets out a shuddered exhale and moves to find the leftover lube from the packet before placing your head back into your pillow.

“Just lie back and enjoy Doc…” his voice is husky as he returns his hands to your body, running them along your thighs up towards the swell of your ass, placing kisses along your back, his stubble sending tingles through your body as he brings his now slick fingers to your entrance. You tense slightly as he slowly pushes a single finger inside you, pumping it in and out for a bit before adding a second scissoring them slightly. “Fuuuck… you’re so tight doc… can’t wait to feel you around my cock” you shudder at his voice, the feeling of his long fingers filling you up, soft moans falling from your lips as he moves the digits in and out of your tight entrance.

You whimper slightly at the feeling of his fingers leaving you, only to take a sharp inhale as you feel him move behind you, removing the bottom half of his blacks. You steal another quick glance behind you and gasp at the sight of him.

He’s huge, long and thick with precum beading at the tip. You watch as he pours the remainder of the lube onto his length, giving himself a few strokes before leaning over you, one hand beside your head as he uses the other to line himself up with your prepped hole. You moan as you feel the blunt head of his cock press against you before slowly pressing in. The sounds he makes as he slowly feeds his length inside you are utterly sinful, a long groan of your name leaves his lips as he holds himself above you with both arms, panting softly.

“Fuck… Doc you’re so fucking tight. You take my cock so well” his voice is shaky, as if he’s trying to hold himself back from slamming his hips into yours with reckless abandon. You turn your head again and nod, hoping that he gets the hint that he can start moving.

He does, his first thrusts are slow, tentative, gauging your reactions before he begins picking up the pace at your soft moans of his name. It’s not long before he’s moving his hips into yours, ripping pornographic moans from your chest that you would probably be embarrassed about if you weren’t so thoroughly engulphed in pleasure.

“Fuck just like that, you have no idea how long I’ve been wanting this Doc… You’re fucking perfect” he lets out another long groan as he fucks you with reckless abandon, the head of his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you repeatedly, bringing you closer and closer towards your release. His rhythm begins to faulter slightly as his breathing gets heavier “where...?” his voice is strained as he holds himself back from the edge “inside” you let out one long moan of his name as your climax washes over you, your legs shaking from pleasure as Crosshair slams his hips inside of you a few more times before letting out a sinful moan as his cock throbs and he finishes inside you, filling you with his cum.

He leans down against your back as you both pant, attempting to catch your breath, both of your bodies covered in a thin layer of sweat as you bask in your afterglows. He pulls his softening length out of you before disappearing to the refresher to grab you a damp towel, throwing it at you as he places a toothpick in his mouth.

“Not a word of this to my brothers. If I have to hear ‘I told you so’ from Hunter I’ll deck him”  

@where-is-my-mind-tho @antishadow2021 @healingskywalker @crosshairlovebot@ilovestarwarsmen725 @vincentferard

I always imagined Cross' eyes to be sensitive and get strained sometimes and when they do he'd turn into a teddy bear or smth he'd just want to cling to you and bury his face into your shoulder to keep the light away while so needy for cuddles or hugs and his squad is just like

🕴 that our Cross?? (bc before he met reader if his eyes got strained hed be the most grumpy gremlin his brothers have ever met)

Author's Note: This is so cute!! I love the idea that Crosshair has eyes just as or close to as good as Hunter's thanks to his enhancements

Summary: Crosshair might be a loner but even he knows that sometimes tender loving care is what works best.

Relationships: Crosshair/Gn!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of sensory overload, fluffy, Crosshair being a grumpy little shit that needs cuddles,

-Hey. You busy?

Looking over at your datapad you see a message from Hunter, before glancing back at your computer. Hunter knows damn well that you're always busy, it's more so a matter of if you're too busy to sneak away and do whatever he has in mind.

Well, your work is practically done, so you'll message back in a few minutes once you're free. Because you know damn well that once you start with them, you'll be roped into whatever mess is currently happening. Before you have a chance to finish however, Hunter gives some much needed context to his earlier message. Not too much, however.

-Come here and help deal with Crosshair.

Since when did you become the resident sniper tamer?

Though Hunter knows you well enough, as even though you don't respond, you quickly finish up what you've been working on before getting up. Their barracks are a good ways across the base so it's a decent walk, enough that you can send a quick message.

-On my way.

Part of you is curious what in the galaxy could warrant such am urgent sounding message from Hunter; Though you'd probably never be able to hazard a guess. Hunter doesn't respond, largely because he knows you'll be there the moment he does. Their barracks are a good ways out of the way, but the walk isn't that far. Tech has it timed, actually; In another odd random bit of knowledge he has stored away in the brain of his.

It seems this time you were particularly speedy, as he's a few seconds shorter than usual when you arrive, the door opening. The moment you enter you can feel the tension, as everyone hovers around the center of the room. Hunter comes up to you, and you whisper:

"What happened?" Looking over to see Crosshair on his bunk, with everyone glancing his way, but attempting to be subtle about it. His hand is pressing against his eyes and forehead, hard enough that he surely can't see very well. Hunter fills you in with the only word that is necessary.

"Flashbang." Oh no.

You know Crosshair's eyes are incredibly sensitive much like Hunter's, which also makes him very sensitive to things like bright lights. The two of them are the main reason why they have the lights in all their barracks, and the Marauder, dimmed so low.

Tech is hovering close by, the closest that the Batch has for a medic keeping an eye on a fuming Crosshair. Wrecker comes closer to check and gets venom spit at him, before he presses his hand back onto his face.

While his brothers are concerned and wanting to help, hovering and asking constantly if he's ok are both things that don't work intermingled with someone like Crosshair. You know that he just wants pitch black, and silence that's just as deep as possible.

Sighing softly you step away from Hunter, walking over to his bunk. You don't say anything, just sit on the edge and gently put your hand on his shoulder. You've delt with this Crosshair before, so you have a decent idea of what helps and what doesn't.

Within a few minutes he pulls you closer to him, forcing you to lean back more until you're partly laying down. He wraps his arms around your body, as his face presses against the black of your shirt above your chest but below your shoulder; Wrecker groaning and walks by yelling:

"Hey! Keep it clean, we're still here!" Wrecker jokes, laughing loudly.

Crosshair's hand quickly darts out to get a piece of Wrecker, who deftly dodges it.

"Fuck off."

He feels your hand gently on the back of his head, fingers playing with the short hair at the nape of his neck. His arms tighten around your ribs even more. His head is throbbing so much he doesn't care how he looks, or that what his brothers are saying isn't actually insulting. He'll just act like it is, and bite at them none the less. In a bit he'll be back to normal, but for now he'll indulge.

It's hard to believe that you've actually been a positive influence on his overall attitude, until you have times like this.

"Just leave him alone, Wrecker." Echo quietly speaks up from across the room, where he's cleaning dirt from the inner seams of his armor pieces.

You kind of wish you'd brought your datapad with you in hindsight, as now that Crosshair has you trapped, you have one hand completely empty as the other lays on the back of his head. It's also a little boring, just watching his brothers go about their individual work as quiet as possible.

A few months ago Crosshair would've never even considered doing anything remotely similar to this, but thankfully his edges have been buffed just the tiniest, tiniest little fraction.

You remember a long while back Crosshair had muttered that he didn't deserve you, and while you had vehemently denied the notion, he didn't seem to take it entirely to heart. You only hope these sorts of gestures help reassure him, relaxing with him as the thumping of his headache ever so slowly goes away.

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sweetheart, i will ruin you (2/4)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then you had the idea.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, beautiful,” he says.

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

“What brings you here?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nice to meet you, Mira. Name’s Kix.”

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

“I’m a medic. 501st.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you up for it, then?”

“That depends. What’s in it for me?”

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

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

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

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

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

“That him?” Kix asks.

“Yeah,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Such a good sound,” you encourage.

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

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

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

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

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

Kix. Remember this was with Kix.

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

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

“Thought you’d never ask,” he says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, please,” Kix pants.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Crosshair is rescued and moves to Pabu with his siblings. He has a hard time adjusting to non-military life, but he's getting there. He meets you, another islander, and is absolutely SMITTEN. Doesn't know how to approach you, and doesn't want to ruin his chances at this new life, so he's super quiet and actually pretty sweet. He offers to help you with your gardening, maintenance on your boat, compliments your baking. Sure, he still gives you the occasional sarcastic remark and maintains his dry sense of humor, but he's making a distinct effort to not fuck this up.

When you run into his siblings they're like "You've met our brother Crosshair, right? He moved here not too long ago."

"Oh yeah, he's so nice!"

And they're like WHAT?! There must be another Crosshair on this island because our Crosshair is NOT nice. It takes them a while to realize that YEAH that's our Crosshair, he's just got a massive fucking soft spot for you. They've never seen him with a crush before and they are living for it.

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

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

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❤❤❤Reblogs are love❤❤❤

❌❌❌Don’t use, repost, copy, modify! Thank you! ❌❌❌

Keeping Company

Let this man fucking rest

Pairing: Crosshair x Reader

Genre: Fluff? Idk, just kinda quiet and soft

Warnings: None

Description: Sometimes Crosshair just needs you close.

Keep reading

@superiorsniper would you buy this beauty just to piss of someone?

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

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

Conflicted

Crosshair x Jedi!Reader

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

Word count: 1.9k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Commander, stop!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Crosshair is going to kill you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you won’t. You can’t. Not truly. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Crosshair, please.” 

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

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

“But you’re not just a soldier!” 

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

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

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

“Good…soldiers follow…orders.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s gone. 

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

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

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

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

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

He has to know that. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cross?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t know. 

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

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

You know you won’t face it alone.

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

content: just major fluff!

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

find here on ao3

read under cut

Hunter

Your kindness.

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

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

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

How you indulge Tech even during his most tedious tangents.

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

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

The way you treat Omega.

Especially the way you treat Omega.

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

Yep. He's in love.

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

It's the easiest way to his heart.

Tech

For Tech, it's the little things.

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

Like your nose scrunch when you're focused.

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

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

How you smile, how you laugh.

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

Small hyper-fixations and cute obsessions you have.

Stories of when you were a child.

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

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

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

Wrecker

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

He loves to see you in a good mood.

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

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

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

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

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

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

It makes him want to be your world.

Crosshair

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Echo

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

Firstly, your lack of judgment. 

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

And you give him that. 

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

Second, your spitfire. 

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

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

You’ve certainly got a mouth on you. 

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

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

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

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

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

Rex

How you treat him.

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

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

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

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

Rex is not used to being treated well.

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

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

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

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

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

a tender homecoming / crosshair x gn!reader

pairing: crosshair x gn!reader (no y/n). reader has a nickname.

description: in which a tired crosshair returns home to you.

word count: 3,334

warnings: non-explicit nudity (i guess), mild sexual references. otherwise, this is just soft domestic fluff with crosshair.

seeing crosshair on mount tantiss broke my heart, and i couldn’t get the idea of crosshair loving having his hair washed out of my head either. so i wrote this <3 there are also not enough soft crosshair fics out there, so i’m on a mission to remedy that. 

also posted this on ao3. feedback is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated <3

The sun had just set on Coruscant, and a holo was playing in the background as you did the dishes, humming quietly. It had been a long day, your boss had been breathing down your neck all day, and it was nice to finally be home in your little apartment, relaxing. You’d gotten home a couple of hours ago, had a shower, made yourself dinner, poured a drink, and caught up on some of your favourite holodramas.

Spending time alone was something you’d grown used to. You enjoyed it, but it was hard to ignore the moments when you missed him.

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