#Crosshair/Reader

[floofyroro]

To Be Held

Pairing: Crosshair/Reader

Words: 682 (fic vignette)

Tags/warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, semi-established relationship

Summary: In a quiet moment together, you inquire about Crosshair's scar.

A/N: Many drabbles sit untouched in my notes app. I'm getting tired of staring at my longer WIPs and I think I just need to share something at this point. Please accept these crumbs and let me know if this resonates with you. 🙏 Part 2 is here.

Your touch is feather-light against his temple. He allows his head to lay limply across your lap and despite how intimate it feels, he can’t find any reason to care. Not when your fingertips trail back and forth from his cheeks to his neck. When they reach his shoulders, you press into him, making quick work of any lingering tension.

“What’s the story behind this scar?” 

He goes rigid and you must notice because you pause your minstrations as a result. 

“I’m sorry.”

A pause. 

“I… we don’t have to talk about—“

“Bracca,” he interrupts you, causing you to quiet. 

“It happened on the planet Bracca while I was still serving the Empire.”

His voice feels hoarse from disuse. When your touch resumes, albeit with more hesitance, so does he.

“I was… targeting my brothers and Omega. But I was facing an ion engine when it ignited. I... couldn’t get away in time.” 

The breeze picks up once more, the curtains billowing in the background. Crosshair welcomes the salt-licked sensation that’s brought in by the wind, finding that it contrasts nicely against the rise of his own internal body temperature. 

His body seems to remember the moment far too well. Crosshair has to tamp down against the rising fear, the rising anxiety that threatens to overtake him. He feels it all creeping over his shoulders but this time…

This time, your touch is already there to combat these ghosts. It takes your lithe fingers, your dexterous thumbs to press into him and he finds that maybe he can move on from these moments, these ghosts. 

If only while by your side.

While you remain silent, he reassesses.  Perhaps with time, you’ll come to find that he isn’t worth the commitment, that his baggage is too daunting to carry. With each layer that he bares before you, he finds that his confidence in being vulnerable is challenged. Will continue to be challenged. He wonders that with time, it’ll ease.

You sigh. 

He waits, anticipating a form of rejection. He wonders if looking up into your eyes would reveal a look of disgust.

You don't give him much time to ponder further.

Your hair trickles against his nose before he registers that you’re leaning down to cradle his head to your chest. Soft hands support him, and the sound of your heartbeat thrums against his cheek, his temple. 

It’s a rather nice sound. 

“You have been through so much.” 

It takes him a moment too long to parse the meaning of your words. These aren’t words that should be directed towards him. No, not with the mountain of sin weighing heavily on his shoulders. 

Instead of accepting them, he focuses on your heartbeat, the sound a balm for these thoughts.

It’s a soft, lulling thing.

But your caress against his temple, his scar, is what brings him back to you. 

He doesn’t know what to say to that. He… 

His chest tightens because yes. He can admit that he has gone through enough. An arm snakes around you in his own attempt to return the embrace, the action surprising yet natural. 

You tighten your hold on him in response. 

“I’m sorry, Crosshair. But I’m so glad you’re here now,” and he opens his eyes to find that his gaze is clouded, his cheeks dampening as he tries to inhale steadily, “here, where you’re safe. Here, with me.”

There’s a crack in your voice and it causes his heart to stutter. He isn’t used to this. This.. feels too good to be true. Is he dreaming? The rational side of him berates such a thought because obviously he’s awake and he’s here, with you, with kind words directed towards him, their meaning a nectar which he feels drawn to, finding that he’s ravenous for more.

Instead of speaking, he uses his palm on your back to pull you closer, the pressure of your chest against him welcome and grounding. Without a second thought, his fingers brush against your spine, your shirt catching against the callouses on his hands.

He’s never been good with words anyway. 

Part 2 is here.

[moodymisty]

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)

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

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 off 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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[crocuta-corvax]

Got Mint? (Part 1) - Isekai Bad Batch

Author’s Notes: Crosshair loves mouth stuff, he especially loves your mouth, the mint is just an added bonus. - I'm going off the notion, if it isn't mentioned in SW canon, i can pretend if it is/isn't real, I've decided mint how we know it doesn't exist in SW universe as far as they know ¬u¬ Haha wow I finished the first half, I have more for this prompt planned. Relationships: Crosshair x Reader Tags & Warnings: Smooching, Oral Fixation, +18?? I think, it's very earnest kissies

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"What do we do if he sees us?" Both you and Crosshair had been sent to tail a target for Cid, and now together you were standing watching a nervous looking Rodian make his rounds at every stall in the bustling marketplace from a quiet off-the-street courtyard.

"Nothing."

You're familiar with his curt answers now, it wasn't necessarily from rudeness, Crosshair just didn't waste his breath on more words than were necessary.

"Right..." you huff, a little agitated at the waiting and pop a piece of gum in your mouth. Crosshair watches as you do this, he'd always been curious about this gum stuff you always had with you, but never asked, it seemed to be your equivalent of his toothpicks, an oral focus that helped him concentrate. He figured it best to leave it to you, after all, you'd been teleported here from another universe whilst you'd been out doing a "supply run", and of all the food you had with you, this was all that was left. Someone Wrecker had already eaten most of the rest, but you'd staunchly protected the gum like a Pyke with Spice. He didn't want to take your "toothpicks" from you.

You can feel Crosshair's eyes on you as you watch the Rodian slowly make his way toward your vicinity. The feel of his gaze sends a flush of warmth to your face and neck- to think you had THE Crosshair staring at you right now, if the Clone Appreciation Community back on Earth could see this, they'd flip their shit.

Over the past few months of your “accidental” arrival in this universe he'd gone from being deeply suspicious, to warming up to you, to the two of you being so comfortable just existing in each others spaces that you had no doubt that he harboured feelings for you on some level- he'd be busy cleaning his Firepuncher while you would lay across his lap doing the "homework" Tech had given you to help get to grips with this universe. You treasured your alone time, so did he, but being alone with him was somehow so much better.

And of course there was the purposefully teasing you- he enjoyed getting you riled up with rampant flirting, slightly too long hugs, lingering touches and near kisses. You wondered if that's what he was doing right now, with his eyes still fixed on you, plotting a new way to rile you up.

You dare a glance over at him and he's smirking at you, of course he is, "Can I help you?" he drawls, making you roll your eyes playfully,

"You're supposed to be watching." you sigh, casually discarding the finished gum in a nearby bin. He rolls the toothpick between his teeth while maintaining his smouldering gaze on you, "I am."

His words send another flush of heat to your cheeks and he chuckles before flicking away his toothpick and leaning over you, one arm resting on the wall above you, kriff he's so fucking tall, "Our mark is too close, we need a distraction." He gently grabs your chin as you start to turn to see, "Don't look." He leans in closer, and you can feel the warmth of his breath on your face, a soaring feeling rushes up through your body as you bite your lip. In this moment he could do anything to you you realise, and you wanted him to.

"They always get uncomfortable with public affection." he murmurs against your mouth, gently ghosting his lips across yours as a silent request, one you eagerly permit by parting your lips and closing the searing hot space between the two of you.

Your lips practically melt against his as Crosshair gently pulls you closer into his body, one hand secure around your waist, while the other slowly traces along your jaw. Kriff, he's so warm...

Having never tasted mint before, your sweet cold breath had Crosshair intrigued. Running his tongue over your lips to gain entry to your mouth, that you so deliciously granted, had him reeling in pleasure at the taste of your tongue on his. How could someone taste so good? His grip on your waist tightened a little and the hand he had been using to send shivers down your neck moved to the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair and gripping just a little, as he deepened the kiss, causing you to softly moan into his mouth, your fingers digging into his back as you held on to him.  

After what felt like a delectable eternity of his mouth on yours, you pull away to catch your breath, and look up at Crosshair who briefly scans the marketplace before turning back to you with that sly smile of his, "I think it worked."

"Oh, good. Good..." the surprise as to what just transpired has you flustered while Crosshair gazes down at you, revelling in the fact that he finally got to kiss you, and leaving him wanting more of the delicious lingering tingle of mint you left on his mouth.

[dumfanting]

Going Back, ch 4

Chapter 3

AO3 Link

Rating: M, mature

Warnings: hallucinations, starvation, dehydration, needles, nondescript nudity | second person pov, g/n reader, present tense

I’ve been working on this one for over a month and decided to just go ahead and post the damn thing instead of stressing over it being the ‘right length’.

2214 words

G/N reader/ Crosshair

He’s almost impressed by how vivid this particular hallucination is, then he passes out.

————

After the shouting match Hunter had gotten into with you, it takes him a long time to calm back down. So long, in fact, that when he returns to the rooftop, he can tell by the sun that it’s late in the afternoon. The door screeches open as he steps out, and his brothers heads whip in his direction. He walks over and finds Omega curled up into Wrecker’s side and staring vacantly into space. Nobody says anything, until Omega breaks the silence with a hiccup. 

“I’m sorry Hunter. This is all my fault,” she says, tears spilling over, and Hunter flinches like he’d been slapped. 

“What makes ya think that?” Wrecker asks, surprisingly quiet. 

“When I was talking with them last night, I- I asked why they didn’t just go back to Kamino alone, and they said they wanted to, bu- but they couldn’t because they didn’t know how to mask the ship’s signal,” Omega says, hiccuping again. 

“I was telling them how to do it over the comm until you caught me. They never would h-have left if I didn’t, and now they’re stuck in hyperspace and can’t get out and it’s all m-my fault!” she says, her tone growing frantic as she continues before bursting into tears. 

Hunter softly says her name and hunkers down across from her; she throws herself into his chest, nearly knocking him over as she sobs out "I'm sorry” over and over. 

“That is true,” Tech says. The others shoot him a dirty look and he raises his hands before continuing. 

“They couldn’t have left without that information from you, yes, but this is not your fault Omega,” he says, and she turns to look at him, confused. 

“B-but you just said-,” she says, sniffling. 

“You simply gave them information. You bear no responsibility for what they do with it. They could have stopped and turned back, but chose not to. That decision, and its consequences, are entirely upon their shoulders, not yours. None of this is your fault,” he says. Omega sits back and rubs at her eyes. 

“I still shouldn’t have told them,” she says, though her cries are tapering down to an occasional hiccup. 

“There’s no point in dwelling on that now,” Echo says. “We can’t change what’s already happened. But we can change what happens next.”

“Well, I guess we can try,” Omega says, calming down. She turns and looks to Hunter, as do the others. “But how?” she asks him. 

“There’s not a lot we can do from here,” Hunter admits. “But if they open the comm channels, we can at least tell them what’s wrong,” he says. 

“And how to fix it?” Omega asks, sounding hopeful as she looks back at Tech. 

“There are one or two things that we can try, depending upon the damage to the drive. There is no guarantee it will work, but there’s no guarantee it will fail either,” he says. 

“We just hafta keep calling ‘em,” Wrecker says, his comm unit back in his hand. 

—

Meanwhile, in hyperspace aboard the Marauder, you’re in the cargo bay. You’ve spent the last hour trying desperately to find anything edible. You finally spot a small box of ration bars tucked away into a corner, seemingly forgotten, and snatch it up. The box feels nearly empty, and when you open it up there are only three bars left inside. You take them out, and you notice that they’ve been expired for several weeks. You drop-kick the box across the space and curse at yourself forgetting such a basic and important thing. 

You then pause for a moment and take a deep breath. You’ll both be able to eat when you return to Ord Mantell, and you aren’t concerned with yourself anyway. You just hope that Crosshair can survive for another day or so on these bars. Expired is better than nothing, you think, and tuck them into a pocket before moving back to the bridge. 

Once there, a quick check of the navigational system tells you that you’re less than three hours away from Kamino. You nod to yourself and head into the bunks. You set the ration bars aside, then crawl into your bunk, hoping for some rest. Over an hour passes, and all you’ve done is stare up at the bottom of Tech’s bunk, your hands trembling and your heart racing. You try to distract yourself from your growing anxiety by getting up and looking around for anything you’ll need, not if, but when Crosshair comes back with you. 

You have all the medical necessities; being prepared for anything is the one thing you never budge on, and there’s a decently sized tank of drinking water with them in the cargo hold. You again realize that he’s going to be filthy, and after you check, you find the water reservoir is full enough for one shower, maybe two. On the heels of this, it occurs to you that he’s going to need something clean to wear, so you return to the bunks, searching everyone’s compartments. You dig up a set of leggings from Tech’s clutter of stuff, but the only other thing you can find is one of Wrecker’s shirts. That would be huge on its own, but it’ll be even more so with the dramatic weight loss you’re expecting. You again start thinking about what state Crosshair will be in when you get there, and you pray to the Maker that he’s alive. 

The navigation system chirps at you, and you return to the pilot's seat, shaking badly. You flip a few switches, preparing to leave hyperspace, and when you shut the hyperdrive off, the ship lurches forward with a loud screech as it slows back down. The lurch is normal, but that sound definitely is not. Before you can worry about it, Kamino comes into view, and you immediately focus on your mission. 

—

It started raining only hours after Crosshair watched everyone he’s ever cared about fly off without him. About three rotations after that, the rain was seemingly replaced by needles, with each drop that fell on his skin feeling like a sharp sting. The wind roars around him as he’s curled tightly into himself on the center of the platform. Aside from the constant noise of wind, rain, and his own chattering teeth, Crosshair can still faintly hear the steady, low beeping of his tracking beacon. 

Someone has to know he’s here, or at least have noticed that he’s been missing for so long. A small voice in his head laughs at him and says “You’re just another clone. They destroyed this place with you in it. The Empire doesn’t care about you,” and he forces the thought away, having lost count of how many times he’s already done so. He does matter, he has to. They’d given him command, that can’t have been for nothing. 

A bright flash of light catches his eye. He never really noticed that lightning can look like searchlights until he got stuck here. Having been tricked by his mind before, he ignores it. The wind picks up and imitates the sound of an engine, just like it had all the days and nights before. Although he thinks this sound is familiar, he still doesn’t look for it. No point in falling for another hallucination. 

The platform shakes as something large touches down on it, and the engine-like noise of the wind stutters to a halt. He knows it’s not the wind now; He’d recognize the sound of the Marauder anywhere. He feels the platform vibrate underneath him as a single set of footsteps rush towards him, and just before they come to a stop, he shivers so hard that he falls to one side and just lies there, too weak to even sit back up. 

Now there’s a voice, and it sounds exactly like yours, but he knows better. A pair of warm arms wrap around him, so he gives in and looks at who they're attached to. It’s you, holding him close as tears and rain mix on your cheeks. He’s almost impressed by how vivid this particular hallucination is, then he passes out. 

—

Crosshair, who had been floating in the hypnagogic state between awareness and unconsciousness, suddenly feels his entire body lurch forward. This, in combination with a shrill screeching sound, is enough to wake him completely. He sits up, and it takes so much effort that once he’s upright, he’s panting for breath. Breath that has no humid or salty taste. Confused, he turns his head and finds himself in a bunk, under a pile of blankets, sheets, and even a few tarps. 

He bends an arm and hisses loudly at a sharp stabbing sensation in the crook of his elbow. Someone’s placed an intravenous line into him. His eyes follow the line up to a saline bag, hanging from his rifle as a clearly improvised drip stand. The bag is already halfway emptied, and the drip is fast. He takes a breath, intending to raise his voice and demand to know where he is, but instead falls into a sudden coughing fit. 

He hears hurried footsteps and looks toward the sound to find that it’s you. He tries to speak, but can’t. You hold up a finger in the universal ‘hang on a second’ gesture and dash out of the room before coming back with a small flimsi cup of water. He tries to lift his arm and take it from you, but the IV jabs him and he hisses again as he drops his arm back down. 

You wedge yourself into the bunk next to him and hold the back of his head while you bring the cup to his chapped lips. The indignity he feels evaporates the moment the liquid passes down his throat. He relaxes into your touch, allowing you to gently tilt his head back as he sips at the water. Once the cup is emptied you crush it and carelessly toss it aside, then use your free hand to softly hold the side of his face and maneuver him to look at you. 

“Wh- where-?” Crosshair says, his voice barely audible. 

“You’re in my bunk, on the ship. You’re safe now, I’ve got you,” you say, keeping your voice soft but speaking clearly. Tears sparkle in your eyes. You shift a hand down to his bare chest and hold your warm palm against his heart, and this is when he realizes that he’s completely undressed. When he says your name, his voice is slightly clearer. 

“Why am I naked?” he says, confused, and you can’t help a soft laugh as you shake your head. 

“You’re hypothermic, your blacks were soaked through,” you say, then gently guide him onto his back again as you stand. You swiftly replace the emptied saline bag with a new, full one and slow the drip. Once you’re satisfied with that, you strip yourself completely, and Crosshair makes an odd noise, somewhere between a chuckle and a cough. 

“Not wasting any time, huh?” he says with a faint smirk. You roll your eyes but smile at him. 

“You’ll take in body heat faster if it’s skin on skin,” you say and he makes a ‘yeah right’ sound at you. 

Minding his IV, you have him sit up enough for you to settle in behind him. He leans back into you and gasps before instinctively curling himself around you as tightly as he can. You allow this and, ignoring how cold he is, entwine your legs with his while also wrapping your arms tightly around his upper back and shoulders, keeping his chest pressed close to yours. You reach over and adjust the pile of covers to surround him, taking care to tuck it all in closely. He rests his head in the hollow of your shoulder and takes a long, deep breath before yawning. You plant a soft kiss to his temple and you feel his breath across your throat as he quietly says “You’re so warm…” before quickly falling asleep again.

Drowsiness threatens to overtake you too after about ten minutes, but you keep yourself awake by periodically checking his pulse and monitoring the IV drip. The second saline bag is nearly empty already. Without waking him, you manage to wiggle out from behind Crosshair and get to your feet. You redress yourself and quickly switch out saline bags, slowing the drip for a third time. You expected dehydration, but not to this degree, and worry about how much you have left. You tell yourself that it’s fine since you’ll both be planetside soon. 

You adjust the pile of covers over Crosshair again, taking another look at the scarred side of his head, and something important suddenly occurs to you. You slip out of the bunks and start searching around Tech’s workbench. You find what you're looking for tucked away behind a box in a nearby compartment, and breathe a tentative sigh of relief when the chip reader powers up. You return to Crosshair's side and gingerly move his head just enough to scan it. The device beeps and the screen lights up almost immediately. 

You look at the readout and have no idea how to feel; His chip is still there. 

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To be added to or removed from this list, reply to this post

[tea-time-for-bee-time]

It’s coming….

[llwritess]

as people start talking about the bad batch more, let me promote my

crosshair/reader angst & tension playlist

real quick…

[stardust9905]

Well shi- 🫠😍🤭❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Killshot Part 2

Summary: After what you thought was going to be a one night stand, you quickly find out that Commander Crosshair still wants you.

Pairing: Imperial Crosshair x Imperial!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI Slight exhibitionism? Public Sex, slight choking, Oral, P in V, unprotected sex, Authority Kink

Word Count: 1.1K

Part One︱Part Two | Part Three

You can find it on AO3 Here!

Killshot Masterlist

Your pants are around your ankles and your front is against the cold wall of the training room. Anyone could walk in and see the commander on his knees for you, with his face buried in your dripping cunt. Somehow that turned you on more.

The commander had practically slammed you against the wall once the door was closed. He had immediately dropped to his knees, mentioning how he woke up thinking about how good you tasted and how he wanted to taste you again. Who were you to deny your commander?

“Fuck… more, please.” You whine, looking at the door.

He hums as he spreads your cheeks for easier access. “So wet for me, lieutenant.”

Your knees buckle slightly at him calling you that. Mostly because you weren’t expecting it. You were expecting something a little more crass out of him.

As if he can read your mind, he teases you. “Or would you prefer me to call you my little whore again?”

“E… either works.” You pant.

The commander continues lapping at your wet pussy, right up until you hear voices coming in. He quickly pulls you down behind a barrier before you can panic. He unexpectedly pulls your pants the rest of the way off and leans over you.

“What are you doing?” You gasp.

He puts a hand over your mouth and lines himself up with your dripping entrance.

“You want it?” He smirks.

You nod underneath his hand. He must have already calculated the probability of getting caught and decided it wasn’t a big chance. Or decided you were worth getting reprimanded or possibly getting thrown out of the Imperial Army for. Either way, you became instantly more wet at what was happening.

The voices start discussing something about scheduling but you can’t focus on that because he starts to slide into you slowly. You try so hard to keep your moan in, to little avail. What came out of you was more of a pathetic whimper. You still couldn’t get over how big he was for such a slender man.

The commander lets out a long breath through his nose, resting his forehead against yours and moves his hand away from your mouth. “Maker, you’re so tight for me, aren’t you?”

You buck up into him to try to get him to start thrusting but he’s not moving. You look up at him and he’s smirking again.

“I asked you a question.” He lifts your thigh a little higher, letting you know that he’s ready as soon as you give him his answer.

“Yes, commander.” You whisper.

“Good girl.” He pulls out of you slowly, only to thrust back into you hard, knocking the air out of you slightly.

Maker, you were so turned on even though you know you shouldn’t be. This man was your superior. You were in a public space. There were people around. Everything about this situation should turn you right off. But it just makes you want this man more.

The voices sound like they get a little closer and you think the commander is going to stop pounding into you but he doesn’t. He doesn’t even slow down. He just keeps smirking at you, knowing that you’re absolutely going to take what he’s giving you, consequences be damned.

He tilts his head at you, as if he’s asking you what you want. You mouth the word ‘more’ and he gets a dark look in his eyes, speeding up and yet trying to keep the sound of skin slapping against skin to an extreme minimum. You know it’s got to be hard for him, remembering how eager and giving he was last night.

Suddenly, the man who said he didn’t care what your name was, was risking it all to have you right here and now. It was almost kind of sweet if you thought about it.

You hear the voices stop talking once the door shuts. You both let out moans you’d desperately been trying to keep in.

“Fuck, commander.” You groan as he slams into you harder, gripping your thighs and pushing them closer to your chest.

He groans at you calling him that and you can’t help the idea that pops into your head You slide your legs down around him and flip the both of you over so that you’re on top of him.

“You like when I call you that?” You smirk down at him.

“Maker… yes.” He gasps as his eyes roll back.

“You like having this kind of control over me, don’t you?” You whisper, grinding your hips against his as you ride his cock.

“I do.” He moans, gripping your hips so that he can guide you, pushing you back and forth on his length. “You feel… so good.”

You can tell he’s holding back but you don’t want him to. You want him to give you whatever he has to offer. You want to feel him on you… on your skin. You never want to forget this.

He gets slightly impatient with you and flips you back over, but on your stomach so that he can push himself into you from behind, even closer than before. One of his hands slides up your neck into your hair and grips tightly, yanking back so that his other hand can wrap around your throat. “Your pussy is mine now, understand?” He whispers in your ear as he thrusts harder than before.

“Y-yes.” You whimper.

“Yes what?” He doesn’t let up.

“Yes, commander.” You groan.

The sounds of him slamming into you are so loud, echoing off the walls and neither one of you can bring yourself to care. He lets go of your throat so that he can rub your clit, telling you that he wants you to come at the same time as him.

You want to give this man everything he wants or asks of you. You want nothing more than to please him. That’s why you get excited when you feel that familiar warmth pool in your stomach, sending the heat throughout your whole body. Your orgasm comes quickly, but his fingers don’t let up on your clit. You stifle your moan with your arm as he starts to come undone behind you.

“Fuck!” He groans into your neck, slowing his thrusts.

He pulls out of you gently and slides off of you so that you can turn over to look at him. He’s actually smiling at you, if only ever so slightly.

“Did you mean what you said?” You ask, softly.

“What?” He stands up to put his clothes back on.

“About my pussy being only yours?” You start to put yours on as well.

“Oh… It was just a heat of the moment thing.” He shrugs.

“Right.” You nod. “Of course.”

You stand up, finishing putting your clothes on as he leaves the room, leaving you behind.

Well, okay then.

You definitely needed a shower… and breakfast.

TAGS: @livi-s @studioramekin @zoeykallus @brynhildrmimi @madameminor @dumfanting @rain-on-kamino @wolveria @misogirl88

[floofyroro]

To Be Held in Return

Pairing: Crosshair/Reader

Words: 934 (ficlet)

Tags/warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, established relationship on Pabu (post- s3) reader is insecure (the insecurity is for you to decide) and Crosshair shoulders it.

Summary: He knows you're struggling. Crosshair comforts you in his own way.

A/N: This came to me on a whim. Entirely self-indulgent and can be considered a continuation of to be held.

Cold metal presses into the small of your back.

It’s enough that it jars you out of your thoughts, your eyelids fluttering as you glance up at the looming figure beside you.

He says nothing when your gazes connect. The restlessness ebbing in your chest momentarily lapses into a familiar warmth, spreading from your stomach all the way up your cheekbones. 

The sensation is enough that it contrasts starkly against this mood, guilt blooming into this hopeless concoction of self-doubt. Guilt, you begrudgingly realize, because he shouldn’t waste his attention on you right now. Not when he has his own demons to combat.

Durasteel fingers massage gentle circles into your lower back, and you hear him sigh before he looks out over the patio railing. 

“Only I’m allowed to be grumpy,” he finally says, his voice brooking a subtle teasing that most people would interpret incorrectly.

You look down at your hands with a huff, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

You miss the way he eyes your fidgeting fingers as they tug on the hem of your shirt.

“Do you… want to talk?” 

The ocean comes back into view when you crane your head upwards again. It's quiet, a unique kind of silence on Pabu that's only experienced during these late hours.

“Not really,” you say, forcing the words out. “At least, not right now. I have a lot on my mind.” 

He hums in reply, the sound deep and thoughtful. The hand he has on you begins to trail up your spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. He reaches the base of your neck and gently digs mechanical fingers into the muscle between your neck and shoulders. Your head dips back at the welcomed affection, your eyes falling closed.

Strong arms wrap around the entirety of your form, bracketing you against his front. The pressure of his embrace feels… grounding.

Safe.

“Is this alright?”

You nod softly, leaning your head against his bicep. A waft of clean laundry and leather, melding with something distinctly him hits your senses, stoking a warmth in your chest.

He moves his head slightly before placing a kiss on your temple. It elicits a sigh from you and his touch lingers, his lips hesitant to break contact. 

It would be so easy to keep these insecurities to yourself. To shed light on them feels far too daunting, especially considering you’re usually unperturbed by such things. If anything, you’re the one comforting Crosshair as he makes leeway with his past, offering a listening ear and comforting touch as he processes.

Maybe he understands that the roles have been reversed. Maybe this is him, offering you the opportunity to lean on him, both proverbially and literally. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, steeling yourself. 

“No, you’re not,” he says, and you feel his smile as he presses his cheek to the side of your head. “I think you just wanted more attention tonight.”

You roll your eyes, the corners of your mouth betraying your amusement by twitching upwards. 

 “Cross…”

“I’m teasing,” he says, squeezing you tighter before loosening his grip. “It’s just weird, you know? You’re normally the… happy one.”

He pauses, seemingly at a loss for words before he lets go of you altogether and you nearly protest, twisting your body around to say as much when he scoops both of your hands into his.

“It feels wrong,” he says, holding your palms to his chest, “I think that was the most I’ve ever talked during dinner. Since when do I yap?” 

You can’t help the giggle that bubbles out of your throat because… he’s not wrong. Usually it’s the other way around, with you talking his ears off while he quietly (and not-so-secretly) enjoys what you have to say.

Your mirth seems to encourage him because Crosshair waits a beat, his mouth twitching into a smirk before he says, “You’ve finally done it. You’ve turned me into a yapper.” 

Tears spring in your eyes because he’s trying his best to make you smile and it’s working. It’s second nature to untangle your hands from his and encompass his torso with your arms, burying your face into his chest. 

Before you know it, the tears start to trail down your cheeks and it becomes harder to breathe steadily. 

“I’m sorry,” you choke out, your voice muffled by his shirt. “It’s been a rough couple of days.”

A hand threads into your hair, brushing strands away from your damp cheeks. 

“It’s okay,” he reassures, his voice soft. “You’ve seen… my bad side, how many times? I’m always waiting for you to realize that I’m no good. That I’m not worth the effort. But... You always listen. You hold me. So I think it’s only fair to hold you in return, too.” 

You think it's the most achingly sweet sentiment he’s ever verbalized. The realization coats your insides with a searing adoration, a heat that builds with each passing second.

You openly cry at that, gripping at him with a newfound ferocity that muscles a chuckle from him. He squeezes you gently before pressing a kiss at the crown of your head.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers. “It’s okay.” 

His reassurance lessens the ache gnawing in your chest. He’s unmoving as he holds you, a pillar for you to lay your troubles upon. Time becomes irrelevant as you will your mind to quiet, a dullness settling in as he draws lazy circles into your skin. 

Tomorrow, you think.

I’ll tell him tomorrow when I have the wherewithal. 

For now, this is enough.

More comfort/angst can be found in To be Held.

[moodymisty]

Crosshair loves physical contact and will hang onto you as much as possible

Tech loves whenever you cling to him while working. He loves when you lounge over him and just chill and lets him be, while still being close

- @clone-whore-99

Author's Note: Yessssss!! I am sold thank you so much for feeding me in my time of need these are top tier <3

Relationships: Crosshair/Gn!Reader, Tech/Gn!Reader

Warnings: lots of fluff

✦ Crosshair ✦

Crosshair really does consider it one of his 'weaknesses', that he's constantly yearning for at least some level of physical contact with you.

Like him sitting down and you sitting in the spot between his legs, and his chin rests on your head or shoulder depending. He still has that usual grumpy expression, but is clearly soaking this whole thing up.

Or sitting sideways on his lap; But if you don't want to sit on this thighs, he'll still pull your legs to rest over his.

He's just constantly stealing chances to hold your hand, put an arm around your shoulders; Anytime he can, he will. He always takes the spot right next to you, wherever you are.

In public he's far more likely to just use an arm around your waist or a hand on your shoulder, more subtle but still some form of contact.

If he's helping you with something, he'll have a hand on your shoulder or back, standing well past close enough that he can get a good look. You'll usually get a ruffle of your hair or shoulder afterwards so he can watch your face scrunch up before he walks away.

Sleeping together normally involves a position that gives him the most surface area; Usually spooning or holding you against his chest. And if you don't start that way, you'll usually find yourself in one of those positions by morning. And he latches on tight; Especially if his sleep is being particularly unrestful that night.

He's just, so surprisingly touchy sometimes that it's almost a complete dichotomy to his usual attitude.

Reading through another paragraph on your datapad, you quietly bite your lip and squeeze your eyes closed for a moment. They feel a little sore, but the momentary relief seems to settle them for a bit. At least long enough to keep reading a little longer.

This book has potential, but you aren't totally sold on it yet. Crosshair doesn't seem to be either, as each time he finishes a page he is either completely silent, or lets out a vaguely unamused 'hmm'. When you're both done you move to the next page, and start the whole process over again.

You feel a little bit too close to the edge of the seat for your comfort, so you scoot back a little bit more into Crosshair's body, and he straightens up more as a result. His arms raise a little bit before setting back down, loosely wrapped around your waist while the side of his face rests against your temple. It's not an uncommon position for you, especially when you're both reading something together. If anything, it's become sort of a habit.

But when you'd first met Crosshair, you never thought he'd be this, cuddly. He seems content as can be leaning into you, even if he hasn't spoken a word in a significant amount of time.

"Having fun?"

Hunter enters the Marauder's cockpit and looks at the scene in front of him with raised eyebrows, a drink in his hand.

Crosshair doesn't even need to say anything, only look, to let Hunter know that his comment is not appreciated in the slightest. Once he's finished doing so, he turns back to the datapad in your hand, and uses his own to tug you just a tiny bit closer.

✦ Tech ✦

Over time you've become a master at snuggling him, while also staying unobtrusive to whatever he's working on. Like hugging his waist instead of his shoulders. Or looking over what he's doing from the side to not block the light.

At first you just laid your head on his shoulder, testing the waters, while he kept tinkering. Overtime Tech went from largely indifferent to it to actively hoping you'd do so, working in places that had more room for you to sneak in next to him.

Sometimes you'll help hold something for him if he needed the extra hands, but more often then not you'll end up falling asleep; At least if it's late. Which it usually is when Tech is up tinkering.

No matter the time however you'll usually listen to him chatter about his current work; As his voice a nice, pleasant tone to relax or fall asleep to. You'll hum and try to keep up, but Tech seems to just like that someone's listening, knowing that you might not understand it all.

Sometimes if he makes a loud noise that startles you awake he'll mumble an apology, feeling you move against him.

Every now and again you'll feel his hand brush against you, as if just taking a moment before going right back to work.

Tech has a dilemma.

He needs the tool over on his workbench in order to continue working on the project in his lap, but right now your arms are wrapped around his hips, cheek pressed against his waist.

And... He doesn't want to move.

But he needs to finish this; Not for any particularly urgent reason, other than his brain will never allow it to remain unfinished now that he's started. So he sits with his quandary, subtly looking down at the way you're clung to him and debating how he can remove himself from this to get what he needs, and then return to it without anything having changed.

Though instead of having to do so Tech's hero arrives; Echo walking through the doorway moments before Tech was going to ask you if you could detach from him for a moment. He can't quite tell if you're asleep or not however, so he speaks in a soft enough tone that hopefully wouldn't wake you, if you indeed are the former.

"Echo," He murmurs, watching Echo look up from the datapad he was focused on to see Tech looking right at him.

"Could you perhaps hand me that tri-point screwdriver on my workbench?"

Echo quite quickly realizes the situation Tech is in, and why he's asking such for him to do something so minute. Echo takes a few steps off of his original path and snatches the screwdriver off the table, walking it over to hand off. Tech nods, silently thanking him for his assistance.

Now he can get back to work, feeling the way you adjust your legs so they entwine with his just a little bit more.

[crocuta-corvax]

Sub Crosshair? Sensory deprivation?? More likely than you think!

Authors notes: Ok, ok, ok, so at first I thought Crosshair would be total top, an absolute dom. But on reflection I can see him being something of a switch, and he can get kinda subby when he’s tired/over-stimulated (as much as he pretends he’s not lol) As someone who’s familiar with sensory overload (I’m neurodivergent) I agree with the general consensus that he could easily get over-stimulated due to his bio-engineered vision. So when he’s feeling that way, he just wants to feel safe, protected and loved on in a gentle way. (And depending what level of over-stimulation he’s at, he’d be inclined to have some *spicy* slow, soft, gentle loving if it’s with a trusted partner.) This leads me to my follow-up/secondary point; Crosshair enjoys sensory deprivation when he’s in a subby mood. Relationships: Crosshair x Reader Warnings: A little grinding, blindfolding, sensory deprivation, over-stimulation/sensory overload, bit of praising, small self-deprecating moment at the end.  ------------------------- "Aaand done!” you mutter to yourself, smoothing the last wrinkle of a now immaculately made bed. Pleased with yourself, you turn to leave your personal quarters when the whoosh of the door startles you and Crosshair is standing there in the doorway, eyes closed, fingers pinched at the bridge of his nose. “Cross! You made me ju- wait, you okay?” Crosshair cracks open one eye to look at you as he makes his way into your room, letting out a soft but exasperated sigh, “I’m fine, just... just tired.”  Dropping his gear at the foot of your bed he plops himself down on the fresh sheets, “Fresh bedding just for me? You shouldn’t have.”  You smile at his half-hearted joke before sitting down next to him and gently cupping his stubbled cheek with one hand.  “Yes, just for you.” you say softly before kissing him ever so gently on the lips. He sighs, and you feel his shoulders loosen just a little while he leans slowly into you. You were familiar with these moments, on occasion he’d return from a mission in an over-stimulated state, wanting to be left alone until it subsided. ‘The nature of having genetically enhanced vision.’ Tech had told you. Though since you’d come into his life, he’d found comfort being around you, gradually letting his walls down to the point where you were the one he came to when he needed to cool down.  You’d found over time that, when he was like this, he’d become softer and more amenable to letting you take the lead when he didn’t feel too far gone with sensory overload, and with the way he eased himself into your arms and sighed under your peppering of tender kisses on his mouth and jaw, you felt like it was one of those moments. Perhaps, you thought, this might be a good time to see if he’d be interested in an idea you’d had recently. “Cross?” “Mm?” “Would you let me try something?” He pulled back a little to look at you with half-lidded eyes, “I’m listening...” With a little smile, you leave his embrace for your bedside table. Pulling a long piece of fabric from it, causing Crosshair to quirk his eyebrow with curiosity, “And this is?” You settle yourself back at his side and he pulls you into his lap before you place the fabric in his hands, “For you!” you say as he runs the fabric through his hands, it’s silky to the touch, and he hums in apparent approval of the material. “I was thinking about how you get over-stimulated, and this might help when you want to relax with me.”  His eyes shift from the fabric to you, “You want to blindfold me cyar’ika?” Something in the way he looked at you made a shiver run up your spine and the heat rise in your cheeks and thighs. “O-only if you want to!” you squirm a little in his lap, and you feel the hand he had resting on your ass squeeze a little. “Go ahead.” You could hear the softness in his otherwise blunt response, and smile at his confirmation. Taking the fabric from his hand, you straddle his lap so you can carefully wrap the material round his eyes, making sure it covered enough to not let any light in, but not too tight to cause discomfort. Cupping his face in both your hands you brush your thumb over his cheek, “How’s that feel?” He hums under his breath, languidly moving his hands along your waist, “Mm- not bad.”  “Good.” you whisper, brushing your lips over his, making him catch his breath. “Are you going to play with me cyar’ika, is that it?” his words would sound sterner if not for the slight neediness in his voice and the heat beginning to flush his cheeks. “Only a little bit,” you resume peppering his jaw with kisses, his breath hitching just a little more, “But mostly I’m just going to give you all the love you deserve.” A low moan escapes his lips, catching him by surprise, “K-kriff cyare. What’re you doing to me...”  You respond by running one of your hands up the back of his neck, tilting his head backwards so you can slowly run your tongue over his exposed throat, drawing a deeper, lower moan out of him. His hands return to your ass, pulling your hips closer to his, making you feel the rising heat through the seat of his blacks. You can’t help yourself but slowly grind on him while you keep his head in place to kiss along his throat, drawing moans from both of you. How his cyare looked after him, he didn’t deserve you, he thought to himself. This was going to be a long, sweet night. 

[meshla-cyarika]

[wanderer-six]

THE GALA - A Clone Dating Sim

You are a Jedi General. The Council has assigned you a very important mission: the infiltration of a Separatist gala on Raxus. But you will not be going alone--you are allowed to bring a date on this adventure. In the heart of enemy territory, who will you count on to watch your back?

PLAY HERE: THE GALA

Ideal play experience is on desktop! (I think you can play on mobile it just looks a lil yuccy)

Clone bbs x Fem!Jedi player FEATURED CLONES: Sergeant Hunter, Tech, Crosshair, Wrecker, Captain Rex, Commander Wolffe, and ARC Twins Fives & Echo

RATING: 18+ MINORS DNI - The paths can be SFW or NSFW depending on your choices (2nd option is always the NSFW one!) - general warning for smut if you make those choices, more specifics below the cut!

Additional (less relevant) info beneath the cut!

HAPPY MAY 4TH! ENJOY MY LOVES~~

COMPREHENSIVE WARNINGS LIST: In general, lots of flirting, innuendo, pet names. Established relationship for all

Hunter: LOTS of flirting (he is a whore), p in v sex

Tech: Oral (f receiving)

Crosshair: Fingering

Wrecker: Not much for him honestly, implied canoodling (p in v), oblivious boy ♥

Captain Rex: dirty talk, praise, oral (m! Receiving)

Commander Wolffe: rough! p in v

Fives & Echo: Multiple clones (no clonec*st), lots of flirting, Echo is self conscious!

-ART ASSETS I drew all of the Clone art! I found the most nakedest screencap I could of any of them (SURPRISINGLY DIFFICULT) and then traced the base, then looked for Star Wars Male Fashion (WAY FUCKING HARDER) to draw on them and dress them up! I think for Hunter and Fives/Echo I just went crazy but for all the rest lmk if u can spot who I stole the outfits from, i deadass dont remember at this point For Background art I found them all on google images - from what I recall, it's mostly concept art and screenshots from games! -ENGINE I made this in Twine, an incredible tool for making text-based games! I highly recommend looking into it. It's really easy to use and there are a ton of tutorials online!

AN: Thank you so much for playing! Please let me know what you think, I had so much fun making this✨✨ it is so phenomenally cringe but I hope you all enjoy ♥ (also if you spot any bugs or typos, please feel free to let me know and I will fix!!)

TELL ME YOUR FAVORITE PATH I like Rex Crosshair Wrecker the best I think

"""taglist""" - @shinyshayminflower @starrylothcat @pb-jellybeans @jediknightjana

[agender-wolfie]

When you’re reading a fic that says it’s gender neutral but then “You wore a short skirt and tied up your hair”

[rainydaydream-gal18]

(The Bad Batch) How He Is with His Newborn Baby

Hunter: He adores them and spends a lot of time holding them. Hunter is also really big on the whole skin-to-skin contact, so it becomes a common thing to see him walking around shirtless with the baby cradled snugly in one arm. He gets pretty good at performing tasks around the home with the baby. He's enraptured by the little one, but also very attentive to your needs. Hunter makes sure you take the time you need to eat, shower, and just have time to relax every now and then. Literally, any excuse to hold them some more, and he's giving it. He is good at rocking the baby in such a way that they fall asleep instantly in his arms.

Wrecker: The baby has him wrapped around their tiny finger already. He's already telling them how much he loves them and how proud he is. Wrecker also just spends time telling them all the fun things they're going to do together when they're old enough to walk, talk, etc. He is so unbelievably gentle and sweet with the little one in general, and also of course with you. He'll randomly stare at you and tell you how beautiful you are and what a good job you're doing.

Tech: This baby is not at the point where they can retain any information yet, but Tech spends plenty of time just talking to them. He talks about anything his mind can conjure up. The baby becomes so accustomed to the sound of his voice that it has quite the soothing effect. Additionally, Tech is very quick to pick up on the baby's cycle of needs. It gets to the point where they cry, and he can glance at his chrono and pinpoint exactly what they need according to the little schedule he's created. He also regularly checks the baby's weight, vitals, to make sure they're in good health. From time to time he voices yet again how fascinating the miracle of birth is and how proud he is of you, also checking your health.

Echo: Spends the first few weeks only holding the baby when sitting down. He can't get over how fragile they are, and he just sits there and stares at them as long as he can in amazement and adoration before they wake up from their nap or fuss about something they need. When the baby bursts into a fit of wails, he goes into a bit of a panic mode worrying about what's wrong. Eventually, he gets more comfortable and gets used to the idea that the baby is just communicating a need. It doesn't take long for him to become a professional dad. He gets pretty organized with the diaper bag and supplies so that he can just pull out whatever the baby needs at the drop of a hat.

Crosshair: He spends a good while just quietly holding the baby in his arms and watching them. Internally, he thinks they're absolutely precious and realizes he loves them so much. He already knew he'd love them, but he didn't realize it would feel like this. The baby is heart-wrenchingly cute, and he'd do anything to protect them. You come to find that he becomes more vocal, telling the baby in a sort of Crosshair-style sarcasm that they need to get their act together every time he has to handle a diaper change, feeding, etc. He's up with you at any hour day or night to help with the baby without a complaint, and regularly makes sure you're taking care of yourself also.

[book-place-incorrect-quotes]

Y/N: Get out of my room, Wreck!

Wrecker: *being a little shit and standing outside the doorframe* I’m not in your room!

Y/N: HUNTER-

Wrecker: Hey! No fair! You can’t just call Hunter every time you want to get your way!

Y/N: Fine.

Y/N:

Y/N: CROSSHAIR-

Wrecker: *immediately running away* That’s so much worse and you know it!

[dumfanting]

I wrote and posted this just over two years ago and I haven’t looked back or regretted it since

*deep breath*

Okay, so I’ve decided to put myself out there! With some encouragement from @madameminor @kaminocasey and @studioramekin, here’s the first ever fic I’ve written. Barely proofread, un-beta-ed, and posted before I change my mind. Apologies for poor formatting, this was done entirely through the mobile app.

Rating: T, nothing explicit but definitely suggestive.

Warnings: none really, brief mention of non-graphic injuries. If I’ve overlooked one, please tell me and I’ll add it.

1095 words

Orders

Crosshair / F! Reader

You and the sniper get into an argument about discipline after a mission. Planning on a part two.

(Edited for ease of reading and to add an entire paragraph I forgot about)

“What you did was reckless!” Crosshair shouts over his shoulder as you follow him up the ramp and back into The Marauder.

“Everyone is alive, aren’t they?” You shout back, wincing and dropping your pack onto your bunk before beginning to take your armor off. “Or would you rather Echo be dead while the rest of us got away just fine?” You snap. Crosshair doesn’t respond with words, only a low growl as he pushes past you into the refresher, stripping his own armor as he goes.

You take a deep breath and try to calm yourself by finding the med kit and tending to your shoulder. The blaster bolt had only grazed you, thankfully, otherwise you’d be in the medical ward alongside Echo. Tech elected to stay behind to keep an eye on his vod, while Wrecker and Hunter were preparing a debriefing report. Realizing you wouldn’t be able to accomplish much with your ruined shirt sleeve in the way, you sigh, annoyed, and pull the garment up over your head. You hiss when the burned fabric pulls at your wound, and the fresher door opens. Looking towards the sound, you see Crosshair standing in the doorway, stripped down to just his lower body glove and boots, staring at you, one of those infuriating toothpicks dangling lazily from his lips.

You roll your eyes and pointedly focus on applying a bacta patch, having to twist yourself at an odd angle to reach the injury properly. Crosshair moves past you, mumbling something as he goes. Normally, you’d ignore it, but today you were in no mood. You stomp after him.

“What did you say?” You demand, staring him down. Well, up, since he's about a foot taller than you. He sneers down his nose at you, taking the toothpick out of his mouth.

“You know, the regs are bad enough, but they at least have some discipline, unlike you,” he says, flicking it into your chest. Incensed, you can barely contain yourself from shouting again as you respond.

“Discipline! That’s rich coming from you.” Before he can open his mouth to speak again, you continue, “If I had a single credit for each time you specifically went against orders, I could buy myself a new speeder!”

Crosshair stood uncharacteristically rigid, appearing surprised that you were finally standing up to him. You barely notice as you take another step towards him, poking him in his bare chest. “You don’t give a damn about discipline, or orders, unless you’re the one giving them.” You punctuate the last few words by repeatedly jabbing your index finger into his sternum. Thrown off balance, he falls backwards and onto a crate, now sitting just under eye-level with you. You huff, holding a hand to your hip, the other still pointed at him, but no longer poking. After a moment, when he doesn’t speak, you laugh bitterly.

“What, nothing to say? The ineffable Crosshair, greatest sniper in the galaxy, has finally shut his damn mouth? I’m shocked,” you say, slightly mocking as you lean closer to him. When he leans away, you find yourself slightly confused. He’s never passed up an opportunity to argue with anyone. So, you take a second to look over the man before you. His eyes are wide, and you notice his pupils are blown; his breathing is a bit fast, and he seems to be sweating slightly. If you didn’t know any better…

This line of thought is interrupted when you catch him shifting on the crate, and as you stare down at him, you both notice a very telling bulge in his lap. In disbelief, you force yourself to look him in the eyes again. He looks panicked. You smirk, leaning down to place both of your hands on either side of him on the crate, caging him below you. Remembering that you only have your bra on your top half, you arch your back just enough, and catch him looking wildly between your breasts and face.

“Maker,” you whisper, startled. “You like this, don’t you?” You say.

“I don’t,” Crosshair starts to speak, but you stop him by putting a finger to his lips, the touch feather-light.

“Don’t lie to me. Look at you, sweating like we’re on Tatooine in the summertime. And here I was, thinking that snipers were supposed to be more composed than that,” you say, voice lower and husky, slowly leaning your face closer to his, and you hear his breath hitch as you do. You smirk again, looking down at him. Seeing such a usually stoic man so nervous, and because of you no less, is, well… intoxicating.

He stares up at you, unconsciously leaning closer, when you suddenly stand up straight, bringing your hands to your hips. The desperate whine that leaves his throat sends a hot wave of arousal down to your core. You turn, no longer facing him and say, “I’d tell you to follow me, but there’s no point, since you don’t follow orders.” Deciding to move to the cockpit, you don’t look back.

As you start to walk away you put a little more swing in your hips than usual. Part of you feels ridiculous by doing so, but more of you feels empowered, not so subtly teasing him. You’ve almost reached the door to the cockpit when you hear a scramble of movement behind you. You pause, and turn around to see Crosshair less than a foot away from you, breathing heavily and clenching his hands around nothing. You close the gap, your face barely a breath away from his, and smirk again.

“Well, how about that. Looks like you can do what you’re told,” you say, satisfied. You’re close enough now to feel his heavy breathing on your lips.

Then, shattering the tense silence, your commlink beeps. It’s Hunter, asking the two of you to meet him and the others for the debriefing.

“Right away Sarge,” you say, voice completely back to normal. You look over at Crosshair one last time, amused by the pure want in his expression. You hum a little before moving back towards your bunk, leaving him rooted to the spot. You quickly find an undamaged tunic and throw it on, heading towards the Marauders ramp. With a pause, you glance back to see the sniper looking devastated, his face flushed and sweating.

“Well?” You say. “You heard him. Gotta follow orders.” You drop him a wink and continue down the ramp.

———

Ok, there it is! Feedback is welcome, just don’t be an ass about anything please.