#crosshair x gn!reader

[nahoney22]

this is so fun, ive only ever seen events after they close it 😂 congrats on the 3k! could i get "you bring out the good in me" with crosshair? thanks and I hope you have a wonderful day!

3000 Prompt List Celebration

Crosshair X GN!Reader

word count: 750 words

SFW

prompt:

“You bring out the good in me.”

warnings: Mainly fluff with a gender neutral reader. Grumpy and sunshine trope. Can be seen as platonic or romantic relationship. Crosshair gets in a fight, very minor mention of blood.

authors note: so sorry for the wait anon! Enjoy.

"Cross, who have you been fighting?"

You stride into the main part of the ship, your hands on your hips, a playful glint in your eyes as you notice the nasty gash on Hunter's brother, Crosshair's eyebrow. He grunts and hisses at Hunter's attempts to tend to the wound, clearly in a foul mood.

"Can you take over? He's being too stubborn for his own good," Hunter sighs, handing you the cloth and leaving it to you to deal with the moody Marksman.

As always, you and Crosshair are complete opposites. Your radiant optimism and eagerness to seize the day clash with his brooding demeanor. Despite his attempts to deny it, he often wears a mardy face, seeming to glare at everything and everyone.

"So, are you going to let me help?" you ask, stepping in front of him with the cloth in hand. He gnaws angrily on a toothpick, arms folded, and avoids meeting your gaze. But you're determined to break through his grumpy exterior.

You tilt your head, waiting patiently for a reaction or response, but Crosshair remains stubbornly silent. With an amused roll of your eyes, you playfully tap his boot with your own and use the nickname he despises the most, "Crossy, answer me."

His shoulders tense, and he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath before finally tilting his head down to look at you. "Don't call me that," he grumbles.

"Ah, good to know you can talk," you chirp, a mischievous smile on your face. "Now, can I clean your cut?"

He sucks on the inside of his left cheek, clearly reluctant, but eventually, he nods, allowing you to proceed.

Adding some ointment to the cloth, you gently dab at the dried blood and shake your head teasingly. "So, who's the unlucky guy?"

He chuckles slightly, removing the toothpick from his mouth and flicking it with ease into a nearby bin. "Just... that guy at the club."

"From two nights ago?" you ask, surprised.

He nods, and you remember the unfortunate run-in you both had with that guy, who clearly left a negative impression on Crosshair. He made rude comments about you, and to your surprise, Crosshair didn't take it lightly. Wrecker had to pull him away before things escalated, but it seems Crosshair went back to pay the guy a visit.

You let out a sigh, feeling both grateful and a little annoyed. "Cross, you didn't have to do that for me."

"He was an arse," Crosshair mutters, the anger still evident in his eyes.

"Yeah, he was," you admit, recalling the harsh words that were exchanged. "But you're better than this." You gently gesture to the cut on his brow, and you notice a tinge of guilt on his face.

He falls silent, and as you finish cleaning up the cut to the best of your ability, you toss the cloth away and offer him a gentle smile. "Thank you, though."

He huffs a little, shifting awkwardly in his place, not so used to appreciation. "I mean it. I couldn't imagine you doing that for anyone else," you admit.

A small smirk plays on his lips, clearly pleased that you appreciate his actions, even if they were a bit extreme. "Well, what can I say?"

You tilt your head, raising a brow, silently encouraging him to continue. His demeanor changes as he stands taller, no longer leaning against the control panel. "You bring out the good in me," he says, surprising you with his rare display of softness.

You had always been warm towards him and would say the two of you were friends (even if he wouldn’t say so). So to hear that you had some kind of impact on him was enough to warm your already loving heart.

"You've always been a good man. Just don't go hitting people on my behalf," you reply softly with a chuckle, your arms stretching open. "Now, give me a hug."

He pulls a face and shakes his head. "No."

"Aw, come on, Crossy! You know you want to!" you tease playfully in a sing-song tone, and without waiting for his permission, you wrap your arms tightly around his stomach, hugging him closely. He keeps his arms folded over his chest, seemingly waiting for you to let him go.

"I really don't," he protests, but you can sense a hint of reluctance in his voice. Eventually, he does hug back. It’s quick and awkward but you know that he did kind of like it.

Masterlist

Prompt List Works

Tags: @blustalker @andyoufollowyourheart t @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @imalovernotahater @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @crystal076 @ashotofspotchka @oohyesplease @theroguesully @mustluvecho @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @by-the-primes @the-bad-batch-baroness @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @kixs-husband @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi i @greaser-wolf f @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @raevulsix

[green-alm0nd]

[Crosshair x gn!reader]: Bigger picture (part 2)

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Summary:

It's been a few weeks since your breakup with Crosshair, and you should be feeling relieved that nothing is keeping you tied to him, yet you feel empty. It just so happens that you get paired up for a mission, and something happens that will make you change your mind.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: SPOILERS FOR TBB S3, angst, mentions of breakups, Crosshair being described as closed-off, near death experience, comfort, emotions, tension, swearing, fluff.

This is the second part of 'Bigger Picture'.

[Part 1] (Please read if you haven't in order to understand this continuation, thanks ^^)

Enjoy!

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The Havoc Marauder was busy with noise. Hunter was busy with walking circles and figuring out a plan, Wrecked was lifting Gonky up, Echo was speaking to Rex through his commlink, Omega was being as carefree as ever, and Crosshair was busy checking out Tech's old records.

On the other hand, you were sitting on your barrack, thinking about the past events. And fixing Omega's commlink; but the screwdriver had been stuck in the same place for twenty minutes.

Maybe you had been too harsh. Ever since your argument and 'official breakup' with the sharpshooter, things had been extremely awkward. There was tension left unresolved and the team could feel it. Hunter had had enough of it. He was tired, and maybe a tad annoyed, that you and Crosshair had acted as childish as he had ever seen you two.

Kriff, Omega acted more mature than both you sometimes.

Echo, Wrecker and Omega felt it too. Yet, not as strong as Hunter. Often, Echo and Wrecker would exchange looks when you came up with a snappy, or bitter remark. However, since the argument, you two just acted like the other one didn't exist. Before everything that happened, you refused to look or speak to Crosshair. But, the marksman would always look at you. After the argument, Echo and Wrecker would just give you straight side eyes at all times.

And Omega had felt it too, she felt guilty for forcing you two to speak, asides from convincing Crosshair you would forgive him even though the wound was still fresh.

"Alright." Hunter spoke up, crossing his arms, making everyone's head turn to his direction.

"We're here to try collect some data about Tantiss and its coordinates. We will split up in order to cover more terrain, and remember to keep your comms off. Wrecker, you're with me; Echo, Omega, you two will investigate the right side; and you two-" Hunter said, gaze going from Crosshair to you.

"I don't want to hear any bickering, or any screaming. We're here to help the clones on Tantiss, not to fight over a lover's quarrel. You'll investigate the middle part; Wrecker and I will take the left."

It had been the first time you had heard Hunter so...annoyed. Or tired. Yeah, tired was the right word.

And like that, the squad stepped out of the ship, not giving you time to complain nor protest.

....

Silence was the only thing you heard when you and Crosshair entered the abandoned ship Hunter had insisted on investigating.

The sound of wet footsteps and the cracks of humidity making little water droplets fall, was all that could be heard. Your gazed turned to Crosshair's feet, slightly more tense and awkward than yours.

"Did... uh-Hunter tell you if there were any droids?" You asked, awkwardly.

Crosshair kept walking, avoiding your gaze. He voice was soft, yet distant.

"No. Hunter said to notify everyone if we found anything. If not, we leave and join the other group."

Nodding in response, you figured the conversation had ended.

Upon reaching the control room, you split to try find anything that led to Tantiss. Whether it was intel about the experiments happening in there, or coordinates from where the ship came from, anything was valuable.

You looked around for a while, and your hand ran across one of the old and rusted computers, once a great machine. The layers of dust accumulated on your fingers, and you shook your hands in order to get the particles away from them.

Your mind wandered off to your first mission with Crosshair, that painful yet exciting memory that would be stuck inside your mind until the day you stopped breathing.

You had been assigned to a group of five clones as a medic on a mission, and that's when you locked eyes with the sharpshooter for the first time.

Yeah, he had been a tough shell to crack at first, always so closed off and an infinite list of snarky remarks. However, once you were able to crack his shell, he turned out to be a nice guy, slightly timid sometimes and a hot-headed, stubborn idiot you fell in love with. And yes, he had hurt you in so many ways after he joined the Empire. But he was still that: Crosshair.

It was so sad to think about what you two could have been.

You shook your head, focusing on the present. There was no use in mourning about the past.

"There's nothing here. Let's go." The marksman said, before walking out of the control room. You followed close behind, before you felt no floor beneath you in less than a second.

One of the floor tiles was loose, and you happened to step on it, making time as slow as ever, and feeling like you were floating for a split second.

Crosshair, as sharp as ever, turned around to see a big hole on the floor, and you nowhere close. His mind quickly figured what had happened and ran towards the hole, and saw you hanging on a piece of metal. Panic invaded his mind, the marksman had been too caught up in his own mind to realise that the floor tile was loose.

His senses were overloaded, and he couldn't think straight. The metal piece was barely holding your weight, and you looked at Crosshair with pleading eyes. Fear and anxiety filled your eyes as you felt yourself slipping through the void, and the metal piece falling.

....

Crosshair's mind stopped. He had lost you once again. He let you down. And he hated himself for it.

He remembered your smile, your touch, your fingertips caressing his hand. The marksman had always been closed off, but your lips on his always made him put his guard down. He remembered naked bodies and tangled limbs, tender touches and shared nights under the roof of Kamino.

All the memories flashed before him as his eyes stung with something strange, something new. Tears.

Tears filled his eyes as pain made him clench his heart. No, he refused to lose you again.

He lost you when he decided to join the Empire, he failed to save your sister, and he lost you once again when he fought with you a few weeks ago.

No. He wouldn't lose you again.

....

Before you could slip away, something strong grabbed you, and your whole body rushed with adrenaline.

A strong hand gripped yours before your body could fully fall. You looked up, and saw Crosshair, with a look of pure fear, staring at you, seemingly worried.

The marksman's mouth ran dry, but three words came out of his lips.

"I've got you."

With every ounce of his strength, Crosshair pulled you up.

The sharpshooter was never a fan of hugs, or close contact. He always preferred showing love in other ways, he saw it as being vulnerable. But this time, he let himself be weak, and wrapped you in a hug.

"I've got you." He muttered, even though it's sounded more like he needed to convince himself.

For a moment, everything that made you be angry at him faded away, and you hugged him back. He gripped you tightly, as if making sure you wouldn't suddenly leave his grip.

You stayed like that for a few moments, before your commlink beeped.

"Hey! Are you guys okay? We heard something coming your way!" Echo's voice came through the conmlink.

Crosshair's trembling hand came through the conmlink.

"Yes. There's nothing here. We're heading back, over." He replied, with his usual voice though his entire body was shaking.

....

The way back was quiet, the adrenaline dying down, yet still there as a reminder of what had happened. None of you spoke, and you found yourself unable to breathe.

However, you still felt like you had to thank him.

Your fingers brushed his, a small sparkle igniting your insides, replacing the adrenaline with butterflies instead.

Crosshair didn't bother to look at you, but for a split second, his fingers laces with yours.

But reality struck back, and you pulled away, and the way back to the Marauder was once again quiet.

....

Once again, you found yourself outside the Marauder, the constant memory of what had happened today that had been kept between you and the marksman not letting you sleep.

You leaned on the ships walls, and remembered the way Crosshair's eyes locked with yours, hanging for dear life.

You reminded yourself that Crosshair had definitely thought it through, since he had used his left hand, instead of his right one. He knew his trembling hand would make it worse, and that he could lose you because of it, so he had used his other hand to grab you and save you.

Maybe you should've listened to Omega. Maybe he had changed.

"I figured I would find you here." A voice said, footsteps approaching you.

You turned around to face him. The man who had saved your life.

"I can't sleep. Too much on my head." You replied, curtly.

Crosshair let out a low hum, leaning besides you on the wall of the Marauder.

That façade you had created to get yourself away from the sharpshooter banished when he saved you. You figured there was no point, and that the act of saving you was enough proof that he had changed, and that he deserved a second chance. There was no point in hating him anymore, he had proved himself to be worthy of your kindness. At least, a small bit of it.

"I... guess I- apologize for stuff...that I did. In the past." He awkwardly said, crossing his arms and looking at the ground.

You laughed, it had been a long time since you had seen Crosshair so uncomfortable with himself. He had never apologized, and seeing him cringe at his own words was the best thing that could've happened that day.

"I'm trying to open up, asshole." He replied, going back to his snarky remarks.

You chuckled softly.

"I'm just so proud of you, that you're finally apologising." You remarked, smiling.

"Whatever." He scoffed, turning away.

You stayed quiet for a while, before you spoke up again. It was time to listen to Omega. It was time to give Crosshair a second chance.

It was time to let go.

"Thank you. You really saved me from a tight spot there. And although there's nothing we can do to change the past, maybe, we can re-shape the future." You said, approaching him and kissing his cheek.

"Good night, Cross." You whispered, heading to the ramp.

The marksman froze, and looked at you while you made your way back into the ship.

His face had slightly tinted cheeks, and a small frown formed on his face. Though, it softened quickly.

Maybe, it had been a reflex. But Crosshair was relieved you decided to trust in him once more.

And like that, he said goodbye to the dark night, and welcomed in the warm air of the engine of the Havoc Marauder.

----

Whew! I finally finished this one! Make sure you check out part 1 in case you haven't!

My requests are open!

Reblogs and shares are highly appreciated! <33

[thrawns-babygirl]

Get You Home (Crosshair x GN!Reader)

Posting this fic on behalf of a good friend at their request. Crosshair/GN!Reader angst

No smut and no warnings outside of intense feels. Let me know what you think so I can pass it on to them.

Word Count: 2900+

Ironic, isn't it, how someone could be created by another just to destroy themselves?

It was the general theme of the various thoughts that swam fervently through your mind, plagued by a vain concept of low boiling anger that managed to settle into reluctant relief before it surfaced.

You didn't want Crosshair to see anything in you that was more than what he needed for this last leap of the journey, a cautious balance of crafted care and reservation of the truth, presented through a gentleness that was far too desperate and pleading as it lingered. Yet he didn't seem to give any indication he took notice of the way you spoke your words as if sending them to him on paper wings, how your touch stayed on his arm so to give him the warmth that you hoped he hadn't already forgotten; and if he did, he certainly didn't speak it. He didn't speak at all once the silence took over, actually.

There was a small exchange of words when you first appeared, clarifying your intentions to free the captive clone and speaking then only when needed to give orders for the escape- though as soon as you pushed the throttle that pulled the ship free of the barrage of lasers and pursuing forces an eerie silence quickly settled, taking place in the air where your shared frantic breaths had left open. Everything seemed to come to a complete halt when the rush of stars that stretched across your vision in such vivid streaks returned to simple dots scattered around the walls of the universe.

"We have to wait here a bit for the others, once they've made it out they'll send us coordinates," You had spoken in a sort of voice you would use on a wounded animal, delicate and fragile and willing to falter if it spared the smallest of harsh tones.

He didn't speak.

Not with words in the least, though there was a story desperate to spill into a sea of tears as his eyes scanned the environment around him. It wasn't one you imagined he knew, but it was evident he saw the symptoms of his brothers in every little out of order detail that scarred this ship, and you could see the moments that took him as he stood and put the refined senses of a sharpshooter to practice.

You saw the way he paused as he noticed a scuff of paint on the piece of durasteel that hung just low enough for someone of Wrecker's height to hit in a rush, leaving behind a streak of white from the drawn face plastered in pale paint on his helmet. You were pretty sure the mark was still there on the armor, would Crosshair look to see if the evidence aligned when he saw the brute again?

Then the clone turned and saw the control panel that was still open with half a scomp sticking out, not that there was any physical memento needed to remember how Echo got stuck when the ship's power faltered and something or another went wrong in just the right way that you had to cut him out. Never really got around to removing the blatant jam in what would be an otherwise useful port, much to your droid's adamant displeasure.

Stepping back now and moving his sights as the man noticed a thin black wire that stuck out from the panel snake up and around until it brought him to the other side of the ship where a signature Tech project had been sitting untouched for a few days. It was a small device that required your input as well as his understanding of the skills needed. At this point you weren't sure if it was work being done for the payoff or simply the time to spend with one another.

Then, finally, Crosshair turned and saw a sight he hadn't seen since they had still called their barracks "home": a board with clear holes and a sloppily drawn target that Hunter often used to hone his accuracy with throwing knives, or even just pass the time when days grew too slow. But this was different. On one side was his clear mastery with a concise series of streaks, and the other one with far more scattered results- even some marks on the walls of the ship- with very few holes decidedly on the target.

"Hunter's been trying to teach me, I'm not that good at it, he said you were the only one who would ever entertain a challenge with him until I came along," An attempt to ease into a conversation, seeing something flash behind Crosshair's eyes as he remained fixated on the board.

The Crosshair described to you was so, so far from the one that stood here now. This wasn't a fire that burned when touched, it was a frost that lost the will to bite. Not the man who would speak slyly with a slick insult as he crossed his arms and looked smug. Not the sniper who never missed a target else he would live down his reputation and have it reflected on the foundation of his purpose. Not the soldier who fought for a cause that he believed in for it was the inspiration for his creation so how could he not?

The way his brothers spoke of him was marred by the rift torn between them, but no matter how muddy the waters became there was still such a clear affection they had for the man that couldn't be drowned by their anger, for it was this reaction alone that lead you to understand that it wasn't just anger it was also hurt and it was quelled questions and it was a desperate plea to the universe for an answer that didn't sting so sharply as the image that it was Crosshair's choice and his alone.

It had been such a subject of debate, recurring and spiraling into a series of speculation until Hunter finally announced the end of it and set everyone to a task to keep the peace. You never understood it much, why they felt the need to ask one another when it was apparent none of them had the grounds to claim to know for sure, unsure if anyone other than the Kaminoans would have such knowledge to begin with. Was it because they wanted to understand the truth that they asked in this way, or because they were too scared of what it could be?

"What did they say about me?" Crosshair had managed a few words, and despite the way they were shaky and weak and falling before they could fly it still took you by surprise.

"Well… a lot of things," Trying to recount something that wouldn't come off as harsh as it had been spoken when one of the boys had let it out with a burning ire. You didn't doubt Crosshair would understand their hatred stemmed from their feelings of betrayal, but there was still no need for that to be spoken now. It wasn't what anyone needed. There would be time to talk, and that could be saved for when the wounds were treated and healed into scars that could withstand what hadn't been said without tearing the stitches.

And it was then you realized that it wasn't inherently what they had said about him that should be shared, but what they hadn't.

When Omega said something in her silly, naive little way that had a mutual feeling flash through the soldiers you could see the way their hearts still bled for their brother. How when they explained it to her it was as if they were rationalizing it for themselves as well. Taking the much softer perspective they created to give the child and finding comfort in it as well.

That time you were on a roof scoping a location and Wrecker accidentally shouted up to you and called the name "Crosshair" out of habit, and how he tried to claim it was the shadow of a snipers pose that just had him caught in the moment and how it didn't matter at all and how you couldn't help but see such a strange emotion weep from his words as he defended his actions to nobody but himself.

Or the way Hunter's eyes found themselves stuck on a small jar of toothpicks when you went into a cantina to ask some questions to the tender, the confliction you could see as soon as he registered the objects and the way his focus kept flickering to what should have been just another something in the background.

The fact that any time one of them was given a task that used to be Crosshair's assigned job in the squad there was a complaint. Sometimes followed by usually Hunter barking about how that clearly couldn't be done by the original performer, sometimes it just fell silent as the memories played in their minds too. And even when it was your given task one of them would be sure to inform you that yes, it was Crosshair who usually climbed to the top of a perch and scouted ahead with the binocs, as if you had ever asked or had any doubts.

It was the way they snapped at you when you tried to move his weapons kit, the fact that you noticed them all visibly tense and grow shy when you first asked for the story of what happened, how when you asked about scope specifications it was as if everyone glanced around the room for him just to realize he wasn't there. That just like he noticed the signs of them in this ship you saw the signs of him in them.

But how did you share something like that?

When you turned to face the clone he was still standing with his eyes locked onto the targets littered with tears and holes. He was still but he was shaking but he didn't move but he was falling through the fabric of reality itself.

"They miss you. I guess that'd be a good summary of everything," Your voice took a risk, words extending hands and hoping that he'd reach out to take them.

Crosshair turned to you after his eyes fell and closed for a moment, a shaken breath having to fight itself to be regained before he looked and for what must be the first time it felt as if you were truly looking at one another face to face.

You could see through his gaze that he mirrored the sentiment, unable to speak it only from the words twisting and tripping and toiling with one another until they simply became stuck in his throat as nothing more than a weight he used to keep his guilt down. What used to be vivid and vivacious in his eyes had since been bled of their valiance and left nothing more than a ghost that haunted bittersweet memories. And the look that usually presented itself with a furrowed brow and a frown was too reduced to what remained when everything was stripped and bones were left bare.

Perhaps it was this unrelenting vulnerability that allowed the clone to venture into a territory he had always feared. He had already dug himself down to bedrock, what was the harm in seeing if there was anywhere else to go? It wasn't as if he could go any further south from here with the only tools at his disposal being his own worn hands.

"Even after it all?" A sincere request that was hesitant as it came to light, words drawled but not with intentional emphasis for dramatic effect more than a fear strong enough to slow them down but not strong enough to stop them.

And you couldn't help but smile and huff at that.

"You think that the brothers you were created with, raised with, trained with, and fought with would leave you behind like that?" You crossed your arms, still floating on a cloud of caution and care as you allowed your demeanor to shift just the slightest amount, "You think they didn't talk about how they would save you if they could? That they didn't tell Omega stories about all of you, as a team, and end it with a wish it could happen again one day? Do you really think they would have just… let you go if they had the option to bring you back with them?"

Your own voice wavered as you finished, finding a surprising amount of emotions starting to bubble up from beneath you, rising through your chest until they were at your eyes and you had to blink to keep them at bay. A task that became increasingly harder as you saw the way your words struck the other. Recoiling slightly as if you took a gun and pulled the trigger slow enough that it slowed time as well as the bullet struck him.

He looked at you in such a pleading way, asking a question neither of you knew but you knew it was there and that it needed to be answered, but how do you answer something that can't be asked with words that need to be spoken? And what little humor had taken hold of you drained from below your feet as you saw the first tear fall.

It was almost instinct that brought you closer, pulling the soldier into an embrace and holding him together before he fell apart in the absence of a strength he finally lost his grasp on. Slipping from the control he had placed himself under when he convinced himself of his loyalty and threw away what he was pretending wasn't what he had wanted, what he needed.

When he fell weak you brought him to the ground gently, pulling him to lean his weight onto you, sheltering him as you felt his breath on your neck and his hands trembling as they latched onto what was left for them to, finding solace in gripping your arms and using that hold to keep the distance from tearing you apart as if he was afraid of what would happen if he let go.

You hadn't thought much of it until this moment. Not his side of it, at least.

Countless nights of yours since joining up had been spent pondering this particular clone, but it had always been through the eyes of his brothers. From a thick lens of red that hazed everything through it to a velvet that could scream as it drowned, altering any other color to the same fate and sparing few alternatives. In this way it was more strategic in understanding, emotions running behind in close second but never pushing past to take the lead.

But what of him? What of the one who was left behind? The one that you heard of but never knew, only knowing him now that he was cracking and falling apart into pieces in your arms; not when he was a sheep in wolves clothing, or even the original side of him that had simply been the clone soldier with a bit of an edge. And what did all these mirrored versions of him reduce down to behind the smoke from the flames he used to burn them?

Through every strained breath from the man you could feel a quake in your own heart, the loneliness that he wore as a badge of pride and honor seeping through his touch and into yours and showing their true colors. Nothing more than a masquerade, a delusion he dressed up and decided was his fate because it was easier to say it was fate that chose your twisted path instead of your own two feet.

And again it became ironic, or maybe poetic if the word catches a peculiar fancy, how it was the disobedience he was known for prior that finally set him free now. Did he still believe that things were a certain way because he was created to fit into a place? Or has he remembered that even when he was supposed to submit himself to the aforementioned he never did, that he always broke the mold he wouldn't be cast into and finished the mission without following the orders.

And how, you can't help but think, will he unfold now that he has been free of all the shackles that have had him bound to what he believed to be loyalty?

What kind of man would he turn into when he patched up his relationship with his brothers, when he met Omega on equal ground and spoke her name, when he got the chance to exist as something more than a shadow of a soldier still fighting a war that had already ended?

Time would only tell as it was the teller of all tales, and as if summoned by thought the comm device strapped to your side beeped twice before a muffled voice gave the confirmation that you were to expect coordinates in the upcoming moments for your rendezvous.

"Hey," You whispered, holding the man just a bit tighter as you felt his breath hitch and hold itself, stilling for just long enough for you to say what he needed to be told, "Let's just get you home, yeah?"

@where-is-my-mind-tho @starborncyare @antishadow2021 @healingskywalker @crosshairlovebot

[thegalaxys-edge]

fallin' for ya

Crosshair x GN!reader

pre TBB, pre Echo :(

sum: you aren't watching where you're going and crash into a very handsome clone

wc: 1k

-✰-✰-✰-

You were rushing down the hall, quickly unclipping your datapad from your belt and checking the chrono on your vambrace. Three minutes. Three minutes to make it halfway across Tipoca city to the debrief room for some last minute meeting that you really shouldn't have to attend. After all, they were only armory stats, which you could send over in 2 seconds flat, but no. The commander insisted you be there. Just in case. 

You were so focused on checking the files you had just uploaded for the meeting that you failed to look up when rounding the corner past the hangar bay, leading you to slam hard into the side of a passerby. The victim of your distraction must have caught their leg on yours, because their weight quickly shifted forward. In a moment of uncharacteristic grace, you managed to swing your arms around to catch their weight, leaning heavily on your left leg, your datapad clattering to the floor.

And then you saw him. He seemed to be a clone, but not like any clone you’d seen before. His hair was a sleek silver, closely cropped, and his gaunt face was marked with a tattoo over his right eye. Your hands wrapped around a rather slender waist as the gravity of your positioning settled in. Whoever this unfortunate clone is, you just dipped him in the middle of the hall; your cheeks started to heat up. At least, you noticed, he had grappled onto you also. One hand gripped at your shoulder, right at the junction of your neck, his thumb grazing your collarbone over your GAR issued uniform, while the other dangled a large rifle just brushing your calf.

But what you really noticed was his eyes. Their chestnut color shone with surprise at the vulnerable tilt he had just been swung into. You vaguely registered his squad standing in your periphery, and, after what felt like minutes but couldn't have been more than a few seconds, pulled him back into an upright position.

Gazing up at him, you also clocked that he was taller than the average clone. He was certainly taller than you, and standing rather close since your hands had yet to leave his waist. Your uniform felt quite tight on your skin. 

“You okay?” you questioned, trying to make some sort of recovery from that embarrassing display, while slowly drawing back your arms from around him. Hopefully he didn't catch the breathless tone of your voice. His shock seemed to have subsided some, and the previous gaping look he held morphed into something closer to a sneer. He opened his mouth to respond, when suddenly your vambrace crackled to life.

“Y/L/N!” You cringe at the tone. The commander was not happy.

“On my way, Sir,” You spare a final glance to the man before scooping up your datapad and skirting around him and the rest of his black and red-clad squad, retreating from the scene you no doubt created, not daring to look back. 

You made it to the durasteel doors without any more incidents, your eyes staying straight ahead to avoid any further collisions. Scanning your badge, you attempted to sneak into the meeting without much fuss. The commander’s bucket snapped to meet you from across the room, and you could feel his glower through the expressionless helm. Quietly sliding to the back of the room, you tried to keep your focus, but your mind kept slipping back to your altercation, the feeling of your hands circling his waist and the grip of his hand on your shoulder. Through the long meeting, your cheeks never quite lost their warmth.

xxx

Crosshair watched their hastily retreating form until they were out of sight before donning his best grimace and shifting to look at his brothers. All of them had barely contained glee at his misfortune. Hunter was obviously biting his cheek to hold in a laugh and maintain some decorum, but his eyes were gleaming with laughter. Tech had a small smirk, sparking a slight twist of fear in his stomach that that whole ordeal may have been recorded. Who was he kidding, Tech was always recording. He was ruined. 

Wrecker, however, did not show restraint, letting out a hearty laugh and clapping Crosshair on the back with a heavy hand. His scowl intensified as he shoved Wrecker’s arm from where it rested and began to stalk back to the barracks. He vaguely registered Hunter, hopefully asking Tech if he was recording, Tech’s short “obviously” sparking further laughter from the bunch he was leaving behind him.

After settling on his buck to begin the process of cleaning his rifle, his mind flickered back to you. The shock on your face, seemingly surprised that you caught him, the way your eyes raked appreciatively across his face, the way your arms settled snugly around him. He adjusted himself on the bunk, unsettled by how quickly you had invaded his thoughts. He added more grease to the rag as your features flashed through his mind. You had looked so pretty above him. That thought had him stopping in his tracks. A light blush settled across his cheekbones and he decided to tuck that mental image away for later, before returning to his work with a new sense of vigor.

After what must have been only a quarter hour, Crosshair heard the swishing sound of the door opening. He had since finished with the barrel and had moved on to inspect his scope when a name flew through the air. He turned his head slightly to see Tech leaning against the doorframe. Tech repeated the name when Cross didn’t respond, elaborating:

“Your hero,” snark dripping from his voice, “A Weapon Systems Repair Officer in the level 3 armory. In case you were wondering.”

“I wasn't,” he hissed, his mind turning the new knowledge over in his head.

“Checks have been completed and Hunter and Wrecker have left for the Mess.”

And then he was gone, leaving Cross alone with his rifle and his thoughts. Very softly, he tested your name out on his tongue. Maker, he was going to regret this.

Though, now that he was really looking at it, his scope did seem a bit off. Perhaps he needed to get it adjusted. Perhaps he knew a very pretty officer who could help him out.

[a-single-tulip]

Hard Candy

Pairing: Crosshair x GN!Reader

Summary: In which Wrecker and Omega come back from the marketplace with some meiloorun flavored candy from off world and give some to their team's beloved medic, you!

Upon later encountering a certain marksman, he finds that he too wants a taste of the sweet treat that you happen to have, only to find that the only piece you had left is in your mouth. Oh well...good thing he doesn't mind sharing with you of all people.

Warnings: Just a heated makeout sesh 😈

Word Count: 2,150

A/N: Hey, hey, Crosshair lovers! Just finished writing something for everybody's favorite marksman, so feel free to check it out! Not as crazy as my previous fics, but still a bit of fun with the lad. Feel free to skip out on it if you don't vibe with any of the tags, and make sure to tell me what y'all thought 😁❤️

[dangraccoon]

Master List - Crosshair

Key: ⛈️ = Angst 🧸 = Fluff 🩹 = Hurt/Comfort ❤️‍🔥 = Smut [18+ ONLY] 🪭 = Suggestive [18+ ONLY] 🚧 = Coming Soon!

Crosshair / OC

❤️‍🔥The Courtesan

Crosshair / Gender Neutral Reader

🩹Nightmare

Crosshair / Feminine Reader

🚧

Crosshair / Masculine Reader

❤️‍🔥Target Practice

Crosshair / Canon

🚧

No Ship & Platonic

🩹I Won’t Leave You

Thanks for reading! - River

Main Masterlist Taglist Form Read on AO3

[agender-wolfie]

Y’all need to understand what gender neutral actually means. Saying “This fic is gender neutral and there are no pronouns or descriptors used” then using “pretty girl” or “that’s my girl” immediately after is NOT gender neutral! Stay out of our spaces if you can’t respect us.

[neon-junkie]

How would TBB react to seeing the reader about to leave on a night out dressed up in a super hot outfit?

Gender-neutral reader, but feminine presenting. Words like 'beautiful' and 'pretty' are used!

Hunter - Even with half of his face tattooed, he still manages to blush through the thickness of the ink. - He's truly lost for words. - Hunter has an adorable stutter as he compliments, "wow, you look… nice- I mean, incredible. Good. Beautiful?" - Hunter then facepalms as he scolds himself for picking "nice" as his first compliment. Ugh, you look so much more than nice! - You'll both be giggling as Hunter takes a deep breath, and begins going into detail about how good you look, highlighting the specific parts that really stand out to him. - You're heading out with friends, but Hunter is quietly hinting that he wants to come along. Totally not because he's jealous or anything, but because he hopes to meet your friends, right? The friends that he's met several times before? Yeah! - Tell him that you'll still be looking this good when you come back home later tonight, and he'll get the hint. - However, he may need to leave a fresh mark or two on your neck, just to get the point across that you're taken.

Echo - This poor, poor man is going to turn the deepest shade of red when he finally sees you. - Why, just WHY did you have to wear that specific outfit that he loves so much?! And you're going out without him too?! Oh, what a tease! - Echo is lost for words as he gushes over you. He feels like it's his wedding day - How is he this lucky? How did he land an angel like you? - There's a tear in his eye as you smother him in kisses, reassuring him that you're all his, that you're the lucky one for being with him, that you can't wait to come home and snuggle up with him later. - Echo doesn't ask for much, but he would like to be kept in the loop on your whereabouts. Purely for your own safety! - "And when you reach the next bar, just comm me. Your friends have my comm number too, don't they? If anything goes wrong, and you want picking up-" blahblahblah. - One final smother in reassuring kisses, and you're good to hit the town!

Wrecker - His mouth instantly hangs open, his eyes turn wide, and his facial expression swiftly turns into a grin as he comments, "HOT!!" - You know in cartoons where the character's mouth drops open, and they begin howling and barking? Yeah, that's Wrecker. - Seriously, you look hot, and Wrecker's going to ensure that you know it. - "Look at you! I can't believe I got myself an angel as sweet as you!" - He'll mention how he's sad that he's not tagging along, but he'll assure you that it's important you spend your time with your friends. - Wrecker isn't as clingy as he seems. After all, he'll be right here, waiting for your return. - And when you do return, all your hangover needs will be met. A tall glass of water waiting for you, a midnight snack, breakfast in bed, and a big buff man to cuddle you back to health!

Tech - This will go one of two ways: - Option one: Tech eyes you up and down, and with a firm nod, he comments, "that is suitable attire for your evening. I hope you enjoy yourself." - Option two: Tech's brain short circuits. He can barely muster up a thought, let alone a comment. Radio silence, but his expression says it all. - Either way, Tech is more than impressed with your outfit choice, and how stunning you look. He just… struggles to find the words, like a deer in the headlights. - Give him a few moments, and you'll be met with suitable praise. "How exquisite you look, a truly elegant and radiant creature." - Tech can't pinpoint one specific word to describe how beautiful you look, so instead, he selects the most complex and in-depth ones. He doesn't want to rely on a 'standard compliment.' - A few kisses later, and you're off to meet your friends. All the while, Tech begins pacing around the Marauder like a lost puppy. He needs to keep himself occupied until you return!

Crosshair - He's instantly thirsty for you, smiling cheekily as he eyes you up, gawking at the sight of you. - Crosshair has a way with words, and spews out his praise, all whilst kneading at your waist, his hands trailing down to grab your ass whilst he steals a handful of kisses from you. - And then it dawns on him… - You're going out with your friends tonight, not him… - Jealousy swiftly takes over, and his compliment turn into teasing (yet petty) jabs. Nothing to hurt your feelings, though. - "Any reason why you're wearing this tonight? Do you need more attention? Am I not enough for you?" - Whilst his tone is teasing, there's a desperate need for validation. - Yes, he knows you'd never be stupid and hurt him, but… can you please remind him one more time? - Don't be surprised when you leave, and minutes later, Crosshair sends you a holotext. "Comm me if you need anything, Beautiful."

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

Hello friend 👋 wasn’t episode 4 of tbb amazing?? I’m loving this season. Wanted to pop in and request a fic - you know how when you’re walking your dog and everyone has to stop and say hello to the dog bc obvs. Can you do something like that but it’s crosshair walking batcher and reader stops to say how cute but then crosshair gets jealous of batcher getting all the love lol

Dog Days

Crosshair x Reader

Summary- You met Crosshair while he was taking Batcher for a walk. Passing your house quickly became a daily task you all looked forward to. Is it wrong to say you caught feelings for him? And was Crosshair really jealous of the attention you gave Batcher?

A/N- Hey girl! Sorry your request took so long to get around to. I didn't forget you! I want to personally thank you for all your kind words. I always see your liking and commenting on my works! This was such a cute idea!!! Crosshair is definitely the 'dad who didn't want the dog, but now loves it' guy. Thanks for requesting!

Word Count- 1,409

The scurrying of paws on tile caught your attention. You raised from your bent position, having been watering your plants outside your home.

You turned just in time to see a various colored blue animal running your way. The figure and attitude of it reminded you of a dog, but you were sure it wasn't.

The closer it got, you realized it was not slowing down. With a hiked breath, you squinted your eyes and prepared for impact.

"Batcher, stop!" A males voice rang out.

Just as commanded, the animal stopped at your feet. You opened your eyes to see it now sitting, tongue out. You blinked, heart still pounding.

"Sorry." Said the man, which you recognized as Crosshair. Him and the rest of his brothers had come back to Pabu after rescuing Omega.

"No, it's okay. Really, he seems sweet." The animal jumped to its feet as you reached a hand out. Your hand was soon met with slobber, as the animal licked you again.

"She."

"Oh, sorry. She seems sweet." You crouched down to her level, now fully petting her. You gave out a laugh as she now nuzzled into your face.

Crosshair crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. You took the hint.

"I guess I'll let you two get going. Have a nice day!" You stood, much to Batchers dismay. She already had a liking to you. She reluctantly followed Crosshair when he turned and walked away.

Only a day passed until you saw the two of them again. This time you had been leaving a neighbors house, needing some flour.

You of course, saw Batcher running down first. Crosshair slowly following. She barked at the sight of you, you didn't get scared when she ran at you this time.

"Hey girl!" You called out to her, but what you didn't expect was for her to actually jump on you.

It wasn't painful, but she did manage to knock the small bag of flour out of your hands. She had you playfully pinned under her, licking whatever she could.

The flour was also on top of you, and her, and the surrounding tile.

You gave out a cough, a white puff leaving your lips.

'Batcher, off!" Crosshair was frustrated at the scene. He had watched the whole fall.

Batcher didn't understand and happily ran over to him. You were still on the ground, slightly embarrassed at the turned heads.

A hand reached down to you, you grabbed it. Crosshair easily pulled you up. His strength took you by surprise.

"She hurt you?" He asked.

"I'm okay, I think most of the impact was on my butt." You rubbed at your hip, a dull pain arriving. It was going to bruise.

"How much flour was it?" He didn't seem to really care how you were doing.

"Uh, I think five cups? I was just borrowing it from my friend."

He hummed, Batcher was still at his side. She was awaiting his next command.

"It's fine, really. I know she didn't mean to." There was an awkward air around.

"I'll bring some tomorrow." Was all he said before turning and walking off.

He did bring the flour the next day, a bag double the size of what you had. You gave your neighbor her portion and put the rest in a jar.

You profusely thanked him, but he brushed it off and continued his walk.

To show your gratitude for the extra flour, you baked him a dozen cookies. You wrapped them neatly and carefully waited to see the two of them.

You found ways to busy yourself outside, trying not to make it obvious you were eagerly waiting for Crosshair. Oh, yeah and Batcher.

Upon hearing a bark, you ran inside to grab your fresh cookies. You raced back outside just in time to see Crosshair standing. He had his head turned, looking around. Was he looking for you?

"Crosshair?" His head shot your way.

"I baked you some cookies! As a formal 'thank you.'" He just looked at you, so you raised the cookies to him.

"Thank you." He said, fighting a smile.

"What did you say your name was?" It was your turn to smile at his question.

You promptly told him, trying not to grin too big.

He nodded.

"T-Theres enough cookies for the rest of your brothers, and Omega." You informed him. At his look, you felt your cheeks getting hot. He probably felt weirded out that you knew everyone's name, especially since he just learnt yours.

"Sorry..." You didn't even know what you were apologizing for, but you felt guilty for making things awkward once again.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, so don't apologize." His words were cold, but had a sense of affection in them.

At the new silence, you figured it was time to part once again.

"Have a good day, I hope you like the cookies." He actually waved this time, glancing over his shoulder to see you smile and wave back.

With each day that passed, you slowly got closer and closer to Crosshair and Batcher. Passing your house seemed to be on their daily walking routine.

A minute spent passing your house turned into taking a twenty or thirty minute break. You'd hold and play with Batcher while talking with Cross. It ranged from the weather to nightmares. You both found yourselves opening up to each other.

You quickly grew feelings for Crosshair over the weeks passed.

There were times you thought he felt the same, but the second you might have confessed or leaned in for a kiss- he'd change the subject. You just accepted that he didn't like you in the way you liked him. It hurt but you couldn't force feelings onto him.

You had started to notice that when you giddily ran to Batcher or held her tightly, Crosshair curled his lip- or gave out a glare. You picked up that he might be jealous of the attention you were giving her. Though, why would he be jealous if he didn't have any feelings for you?

It came to be a few minutes past two o'clock. Crosshair would be coming down any minute now. Though, your pesky bladder had you quickly running back inside.

When you came out, Crosshair was sat on your front porch. Batcher was at the ready, panting and hyper.

You greeted her first, dropping to your knees. She was more playful today, not leaving you alone.

"Oh, you're such a good girl!" You scratched behind her ears, she closed her eyes and wagged her tail.

You continued to play with her, she was rolling and doing tricks for you. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Crosshair stand. He crossed his arms, a scowl on his face.

"Such a pretty girl, so cute." You announced praises at her. Though not on purpose, you ignored Crosshair. She was on her back as you rubbed her belly.

"Why don't you get a room." He remarked, now obviously jealous of Batcher.

"Don't listen to him, Batcher! He's just grumpy and jealous." You were getting brave with your comebacks.

"I am not!" He was getting defensive.

"Shh, it's okay Batcher. Your dad is pretty cute too." You said, nuzzling her face.

"I am not her dad and i'm n-" Your words registered in Crosshairs head, the same time they did in yours.

You moved away from Batcher, the mood changed. It was silent for a moment, you looked at the ground.

"Okay I'll be leaving now." You stood to your feet, about to die of embarrassment. That was until Crosshair grabbed a hold of your wrist.

He forced you to face him. "Why?"

"Well gee Cross, I don't know. Maybe because I just said the dumbest thing ever. You think I don't know the feeling isn't mutual!" You confessed.

He stared for a moment, hand still gripping your wrist. You could tell he was contemplating something. That was until he made the last step forward and kissed you.

You felt light as a feather. He did like you back!

You could feel Batcher rubbing against your leg, but payed no attention to it. You were too lost in the kiss.

The two of you held each other, not puling away except to gasp for air.

"I guess I was wrong?" You panted out.

"You were far from being right." He just pulled you back in for another kiss.

A/N- Thank you so much for reading! I am so appreciative for your sweet comments HayBelle! Please let me know if there is anything you want changed in this fic!

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

[dystopicjumpsuit]

The Plant Prowler of Pabu

A/N: I’m scared that Pabu is going to be toast after this week, so I wrote a little fluff to make myself feel better. Also, this is the first time I��ve been able to finish a fic in six weeks, so… yay me!

Pairing: Crosshair x Reader (GN)

Rating: T (but MDNI as always)

Wordcount: 2.1K

Warnings and tags: mild language; fluff; a kiss; spoilers for The Bad Batch season 3

Summary: Exploring the island during his first morning on Pabu, Crosshair encounters a mastermind of botanical crime: you.

Suggested Listening: 

Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list

Whoever said, “It’s darkest just before dawn” had clearly never woken up to go for a walk before sunrise. Even if Crosshair hadn’t had enhanced vision, it would have been easy for him to navigate his way down to the beach of Pabu in the dim half-light. Hunter had wordlessly watched him exit the Marauder, pretending to still be asleep, but Crosshair knew that his brother would have drawn his vibroblade in a flash if he’d even glanced sideways at Omega.

Crosshair didn’t exactly blame Hunter for his caution, but it didn’t make it any easier to swallow. The squad had arrived on the idyllic island the previous day, and Crosshair was immediately swarmed by a horde of curious locals. With Hunter determined to keep Crosshair in sight at all times, there had been no escape from their onslaught of hospitality, and by the time the celebrations had died down, Crosshair had been clinging to the tattered threads of his patience and sanity.

It was a hell of a thing to go from barely speaking to anyone for months on end to suddenly being plunged into the midst of a vibrant and chaotic crowd of nosy spectators. He’d escaped to the Marauder at last and pretended to sleep, keenly aware of Hunter’s eyes on him. He’d spent enough time under the microscope in the past several months, though, and he was ready for some privacy.

And so it was that he found himself wandering down the empty terraced walkways of Pabu, making his way to the shoreline in the pale gloaming. He didn’t encounter a single soul as he walked—barring the ubiquitous moonyos that seemed to frolic across the island at all hours. Pabu was the sort of place that seemed too flawless to be real. Too flawless to last.

Not quite as flawless as it seems on the surface, he acknowledged as he turned down a path that snaked through one of the sections of the island that had yet to be rebuilt after the catastrophic sea surge he’d heard about countless times at the welcoming party the previous night. The buildings had been reduced to rubble, and judging by the weeds sprouting in the cracks of the walkway, the locals tended to avoid this particular part of the island.

Perfect.

The gentle breeze off the ocean was chilly, and he told himself it was the reason his hand trembled more than usual that morning. He shoved both hands deep into his pockets as he navigated the last few levels before he reached the beach. As he stepped onto the sand, a gust of wind buffeted against him. It was bracingly cold, and it smelled like salt and aquatic vegetation and wet earth, and he closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply and focusing on the sensation.

When he opened his eyes, a flicker of movement in his peripheral vision had him snapping his head to the side. He froze. A figure meandered slowly down the beach, sticking close to the bottom of the hill where the lush foliage grew thickly right up to the edge of the sand. He was certain you had spotted him, but you didn’t immediately acknowledge his presence.

He watched for a moment as you paused and stooped down to examine one of the plants, then carefully plucked a few bunches and laid them in the basket you carried. Bizarre. What the kriff was this person doing out here so early? Nothing innocent, that was for damned sure. Why would anyone sneak down to such an isolated stretch of the beach at this obscene hour if they didn’t have nefarious intent?

Aside from me, obviously.

He squinted slightly. Even with his enhanced eyesight, it was dark enough, and you were far enough away, that it was difficult to make out your features, but he was reasonably sure you hadn’t been at the party the night before. 

Hmph.

He turned and walked the opposite direction, away from the person who’d had the audacity to interrupt his solitude by getting to the beach first. Better not to get involved.

Crosshair took a different route the next morning, arriving at the beach just as the sun rose. As bad kriffing luck would have it, you were exiting the beach just as he arrived, and your paths inevitably intersected. He braced himself for a conversation, but you simply met his eyes and nodded quietly as you passed him.

He suppressed a sigh of relief. Stepping aside to make room for you to pass on the narrow trail, he couldn’t help noticing that your basket was filled with a variety of neat bundles of leaves and twigs. Odd, but your hobbies were none of his concern. Even if they did involve herb rustling and grand theft shrubbery.

He continued his path down to the shoreline and wandered along the water’s edge, staring out at the horizon. Out of the corner of his eye, he could still see your solitary figure making its way up the steep slope and into Lower Pabu. He was now completely sure that you’d not been at the welcoming party, nor had he encountered you in the village. It wasn’t that surprising; after all, hundreds of people lived on the island, and he wasn’t in any particular hurry to meet them all—or any of them, if he were honest.

Of course, he didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. Wrecker had flatly refused to allow Crosshair to isolate himself, while the gregarious mayor Shep Hazard seemed equally dedicated to the twin causes of thrusting Crosshair into the community and plying him with as much fruit as he could eat in a lifetime. He was starting to feel a tiny surge of violence every time he saw a jogan fruit.

On the third day, Batcher woke up with Crosshair and scrambled out of the Marauder, bounding ahead of him down the ramp and then turning to wiggle her entire body in anticipation as he followed. He let the lurca hound pick the path that morning, not bothering to hide his thin smile at Batcher’s endless curiosity and enthusiasm. She crisscrossed the walkways incessantly, sniffing and exploring, chasing the moonyos playfully down the hill, investigating every nook and cranny of the village, and easily running five times the distance that Crosshair traveled on their way down to the water.

The beach was empty this morning, to Crosshair’s relief. At last, some peace and quiet. Or at least as quiet and peaceful as it could be with Batcher rocketing back and forth across the wet sand, grunting and huffing as she charged into the surf and back up to Crosshair, crouching into a bow as she tried to entice him to play with her. When he didn’t immediately comply, she took off chasing a flock of seabirds, scattering them into the air in a cacophony of indignant squawking.

She chased the birds down the beach, barking joyously as she splashed through the surf. When the hound disappeared around a bend in the shoreline, Crosshair sped up slightly, not wanting to risk Omega’s wrath if anything happened to her pet on his watch. As he rounded the bend, he was greeted with a most unexpected sight: Batcher was lying on her back on the sand, writhing with delight as you rubbed her belly.

Your basket was overturned, and all the neat little bundles of herbs were strewn across the sand. It wasn’t hard to deduce the instigator of such carnage. Batcher spotted Crosshair and immediately jumped up and shook the sand off herself before rushing to greet him.

“Down,” he said sternly as she jumped up and swiped at him with her massive paws.

She dropped obediently, and trotted along next to him as he approached you. You’d already begun picking up your fallen bundles of leaves, and he quickly bent to assist you.

“Sorry about that,” he mumbled.

“No harm done,” you replied, shaking a bit of loose sand out of the bundles before you dropped them into your basket. “They all get washed before I hang them up to dry anyway.”

“So you’re not just engaging in botanical heists for the adrenaline rush?” he asked.

“Oh, yeah, it really gets the blood pumping,” you replied, deadpan. “My day just doesn’t feel complete without a little horticultural larceny.”

“I can see you like to live on the edge,” he said with a tiny smile. “The Plant Prowler of Pabu.”

“And I would have gotten away with it, if it weren’t for a mysterious stranger and his meddling dog.”

He liked you. Damn it.

Crosshair didn’t see you for the next several days. He assumed you’d moved your criminal enterprise elsewhere on the island, and after the team returned from Barton IV, he didn’t feel the same need to escape the Marauder as he had previously. Still, he wasn’t sleeping particularly well, and after an excruciatingly restless night, he slipped out of the ship not long before dawn and wandered aimlessly down the streets of Pabu until he found himself in the unstable section he’d discovered on the first day.

As he picked his way through the ruins, he spotted movement two terraces below, and he grinned. Forcing himself to walk casually so you didn’t suspect how pleased he was to see you, he sauntered down to your level, only to find you ripping weeds up from between the fragments of pavement with uncharacteristic abandon.

“What did those plants ever do to you?” he asked.

You must have spotted him before he arrived, because you didn’t even flinch at the sound of his voice.

“Invasive species,” you replied. “I try not to over-forage, but in this case, I’ll make an exception.”

“And I thought your crimes only extended to vegetational theft,” he drawled. “I had no idea you’d escalated to floral murder and agricultural vigilantism.”

“The hero Pabu needs,” you said with a smile that had no business being as charming as it was, considering you were currently covered in a fine layer of dirt and assorted bits of leaves and twigs. “If this plant gets established on the island, we might never be able to eradicate it. It will outcompete the native plants and could cause significant disruptions to the ecosystem.”

“How altruistic of you,” he remarked drily.

“Not at all,” you laughed. “It also happens to be delicious.”

Crosshair stooped down and pulled one of the plants up by the roots, examining it closely. “It’s on sight, then.”

“Exactly. No mercy.”

As the first rays of the sun appeared on the distant horizon, you packed the large bundles of weeds into your basket, then stood and dusted your hands off on your trousers. You stretched a bit, clearly a little stiff from your labor. Impulsively, Crosshair spoke.

“Want to watch the sunrise with me?” You looked surprised at his offer, and he cleared his throat, looking awkwardly away. “Or do you turn into a meiloorun if you stay out past dawn?”

“Yes,” you said. “I mean, no. I mean, yes, I’d like to stay. No, I don’t turn into a meiloorun.”

You bit your lip and stared down at the bundle of weeds in your basket, poking at it ineffectually as you muttered something unintelligible under your breath. Stifling a laugh, Crosshair climbed up onto the crumbling half-wall of a destroyed structure and extended his hand to help you up after him. You scrambled up and sat down next to him, gazing out at the tranquil ocean as the sun began to paint the high clouds in brilliant shades of gold and pastel.

“Not a bad view, is it?” you asked quietly. 

“Definitely worth waking up early,” he replied, watching your face as the light caught on your cheekbones and reflected in your eyes.

Without making a conscious decision, he lifted his hand and brushed a little loose dirt off your cheek. His damned hand trembled, and he mentally cursed. You didn’t seem to notice the slight tremor, though—or if you did, you didn’t say anything about it. Instead, you turned your head slowly, grazing your lips across his fingertips as you met his eyes. It seemed the most natural thing in the galaxy to continue to trace the line of your jaw until his hand curled around the back of your head.

Your lips were soft and warm in the cool breeze, and you tasted like sea salt and dew and something he didn’t quite recognize. Something new. He liked it. You leaned into his kiss, and when at last it came to its natural conclusion, he drew in a shaky breath.

“Hi,” he whispered. “I’m Crosshair.”

---

Want more Crosshair? I have another Crosshair x Reader ficlet here!

Taglist:

@secondaryrealm @sev-on-kamino spicy-clones @523rdrebel @wings-and-beskar @merkitty49 @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @arcsimper5 @starrylothcat @clio3kantarella @cloneloverrrrr @goblininawig @ladytano420 @arctrooper69 @sunshinesdaydream @littlemissmanga @stunkbiggu @starqueensthings @marierg @idontgetanysleep @moonlightwarriorqueen @dudewhynotthis @sleepycreativewriter @tcwmatchmakingau @littlemissbshine @multi-fan-dom-madness @heavenseed76 @wizardofrozz @bobaprint @sweetcream-coldfoam @banksys-rat @skellymom @pickleprickle @trixie2023 @mythical-illustrator @dickarchivist @cw80831 @kimiheartblade @meredithroseg @flyiingsly @lightwise @swcowgal @reader6898 @cdblake1565 @epicy0n @starstofillmydream @msmeredithrose @totallyunidentified @eclec-tech @euphoriacafe @hipwell

[yoitsjay]

Like Your Not Even There

Pairings: The bad batch x gn reader

Summary: The bad batch catches you dancing like nobody's watching

Warnings: fluff, crosshair flirting, no echo

Word count: 1,403

You couldn’t really remember when you had joined The Bad Batch. You had enlisted in the republic army as a combat certified medic, having been part of a planet’s military before it was taken over by the separatists, and you had left to offer the republic your support.

Because you weren’t a clone they didn’t place you with any of the larger battalions, though you’ve heard stories of how amazing the 212th and the 501st were. Instead you had been placed with a small clone unit called Clone Force 99 professionally, however they called themselves The Bad Batch.

At first you were very much an outcast, and the four clones were untrusting of you until one of them ended up severely hurt. It was Tech, who had ended up with a broken ankle as well as a broken arm. You were the one who had rushed out behind cover and shot multiple battle droids whilst dragging Tech behind a rock before you immediately started repairing the broken bones, and then managed to get him back to the Marauder whilst laying your own cover fire.

Crosshair, Hunter and Wrecker immediately gained trust in you, and welcomed you into their little family. It still took a couple months, but you fell into their routine on the battlefield and in the Marauder. You got first dibs on the shower because if you didn’t you wouldn’t use the good salve that wasn't technically republic approved but worked better than bacta did, and instead would just use Bacta. Which they didn’t mind but- it was the little things that mattered…

That currently took you to the present. The Batch was off on a restock mission while you got to enjoy a bit of much needed alone time. On a previous mission, one of the citizens you had saved had given you a portable radio, and Tech showed you how to hook it up to your data pad where you had a bunch of recorded songs.

So you had the excuse to play them on full blast, and you were dancing away in the cockpit of the Marauder with your music blasting, a ration bar in your hands, acting like a microphone as you bounced around the ship, singing the lyrics to whatever song was playing.

“The look, the lips, the hips, the tits, the hair, the eyes, the skin, the waist, you can see what i can do on this microphone so guess what i'm gonna do to you at home!” You sang out loud as Perfect (Exceeder) played on your radio.

You jumped around in the hallway, letting out a squeal as you entered the bunk room, reaching your bunk as you hummed more lyrics while searching for something underneath the bunk. The song then finished, but went on to play another one of your favorites from a new band you discovered recently by taking a sneaky look at Tech’s datapad.

My Iron Lung by Radiohead flooded through your speakers as you found the wrench you were looking for, taking a bite from your ration bar as you rushed back to the cockpit, sliding underneath the chairs to one of the control panels.

“Fath~ you're driving me away.” You sang out, humming as you held the wrench in your mouth whilst unscrewing the panel. You were tasked with fixing some aspects of the ship after all, but it didn’t stop you from singing and dancing as you did so.

You removed the wrench from your mouth, and started tinkering around, belting out more lyrics.

“From my life support, my Iron, lung~”

You continued singing and working before fixing whatever issue that was causing some issues with the fresher, humming the last bits of the song as you tidied up your toolbox before putting it back underneath your bunk.

“The head shrinkers, they want everything, My uncle bill, my belisha beacon~” you sang, wiggling your hips as the song faded out. You were a bit out of breath by now from all the dancing and bouncing around, but of course it didn’t stop you, and now you started organizing the little med area whilst dancing.

Distracted by everything you hadn’t realized that Hunter and the others had come back, the music followed by your singing being heard from the outside piquing their interest, as well as the fact that the ship was bouncing when you were.

Eventually you walked away from the med area just as The Bad Batch entered the Marauder. You were mid lyric and mid dance move when they saw you, however you hadn’t even noticed they were there as you danced right past them and into the cockpit.

The four boys just watched in fascination as you swayed your hips side to side, wrapping your arms around yourself as a more sensual song had started playing. Ocean eyes by Billie Eilish. Though when she sang ocean eyes, you switched the word and instead sang brown eyes, obviously mentioning the clones, or more specifically the batch.

upon hearing that Wrecker was the first to break the silence with a cheer, catching you entirely off guard. The boys watched you squeal, and rushed to turn off the speaker, running past to grab it, only to trip on a wrench that you had forgotten to put back. You expected to hit the floor, but instead you felt arms wrap around your waist, and spin you around. You were still at a tilt, but being held by not one- but two of the Bad Batch, being Hunter and Crosshair, with one of their arms supporting your back.

Your face flushed brightly, and they helped you back upright just as a joke song about gangbangs started playing. You squeaked, ducking under their arms as you ran to the speaker and shut it off, your face beet red as you stared at them.

“How long we-”

“Only a few minutes Mesh’la.” Tech interrupted, and you sighed in relief, only to blush more when Wrecker spoke up.

“Wow Y/n! you got some good dance moves! and a hella good voice too!” He exclaimed, and Hunter nodded in agreement. “Definitely.” Crosshair teased. You huffed in response, looking away from them as you tried to rid the blush from your face. “If you had commed me-”

Again, Tech cut you off. “We did in fact comm you, three times. But you didn’t pick up so we came back a bit early to make sure you were okay, which is when we found you like this.” He explained, adjusting his goggles as he stared at you. A soft ‘oh’ fell from your lips as you rummaged around in your pocket, pulling out the comm device, noticing all three missed messages or calls from Tech.

You huffed again, fiddling with your fingers for a moment as you opened your mouth to speak, only to say nothing and then shut your mouth again. “W-well… you got what we needed?” You asked after a moment, looking over at Hunter, avoiding looking at crosshair since he probably still had that smirk on his stupid face.

“yeah we did, and we got a new mission too so we best head out.” He explained, breaking the awkward standoff as Tech made his way to the pilot's chair. Wrecker walked over to you, slapping his hand against your back before pulling you into a side hug, making his way to the cockpit as well. That blush returned, and you slowly turned your head to see crosshair now standing right beside you.

Crosshair leaned down towards you, and nervously you tried to take a step back, your back bumping against one of the consoles. You gulped, seeing his smirk as he whispered in your ear. “Next time i want to see you dance like that on my lap.” He flirted, his words sending a shiver down your spine as you watched him back off and also head to the cockpit.

Hunter shook his head at Crosshair before extending a hand to you, offering a smile. “Sorry Mesh’la… but seriously though, you’re quite beautiful when you dance. Don’t be afraid to do it more.” He stated, hearing you snort.

“I would, but I'm afraid if I do, Crosshair might bust one.” You joked, taking your spot in the cockpit, crossing your arms over your chest as Hunter laughed, but said nothing else.

These boys… they’ll be the death of you one day.

Tag List:

[nahoney22]

Hi! i love your writing and was wondering if you could do the tbb (or just tech if you dont wanna do all of them) reaction to their gender neutral S/O pulling out their old instrument or color guard equipment from their marching band days and practicing what they remember (i dont even know if star wars has an equivalent to marching band/color guard lol but i picked an old practice flag up for the first time since high school earlier and the thought popped into my head for this request..) feel free to disregard this if it’s not something you wanna write, keep up the amazing work!!

Colour Guard Memories

The Bad Batch Boys X GN!Reader

How The Bad Batch react to you pulling out your old instrument or colour guard equipment.

warnings: none, gender neutral reader, can be read as platonic or romantic, Batchers admiring/encouraging reader.

authors note: this is a really cute idea and sorry it has took so long to do anon. In the UK we don’t really have marching bands/ colour guards aside from royal parades from what I know so I’ve relied on Google to help me out 😅 enjoy!

Echo

"Think we've got everything?" Echo asks, sealing the final box of your belongings.

As you survey the sea of packed boxes, you're struck by the realisation of just how many possessions you've gathered over the years. It's only now, in the process of moving out of your family home, that the extent of it hits you. After what feels like an eternity of packing and stacking, you're finally done and you couldn’t be any more grateful for Echo's helping hand.

"I hope so," you reply, wiping your brow and straightening up, hands on your hips. "Now, all that's left is to get it onto the ship." The prospect of lugging boxes onto the ship isn't exactly thrilling, but you're itching to kick back and relax.

Echo chuckles and reaches for one of the sealed boxes, but disaster strikes as the bottom gives way, sending its contents tumbling to the floor. "Well, that's just great," he says wryly.

Letting out a sigh, you join him in gathering up the scattered items. Amidst the chaos, something catches your eye: an old, familiar object. "No way!"

Startled by your sudden excitement, Echo turns to you. "What is it?"

"It's my Sabre!" you exclaim, holding up the cherished item for him to see.

He blinks in surprise. "Uh, your lightsaber?"

You playfully roll your eyes at Echo, a mischievous glint in your eyes, as you take the equipment into your hands and wave it at him. "You've known me long enough to know I'm not a Jedi, Echo," you tease, giving the Sabre a quick twirl. "It's from when I used to be be a colour guard for a marching band."

Echo chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. "I didn't know you did that."

"Yeah! I loved it. Want to see what I can still do?" you ask, a hint of excitement in your voice.

"The floor's all yours," he says, stepping back to give you space.

You take a moment to steady yourself, feeling the weight of the stainless steel Sabre in your hands. With a deep breath, you begin your routine, the familiar movements flooding back to you. As you twirl the Sabre with practiced precision, you can't help but feel a surge of nostalgia. However, in the midst of your performance, disaster strikes as the Sabre slips from your grip, narrowly missing a nearby window.

"Okay, okay, I'm a little rusty. Give me a second," you laugh sheepishly, quickly retrieving the saber and regaining your composure but Echo was still smiling and impressed throughout.

Determined to redeem yourself, you focus on each movement, executing smooth transitions and intricate spins. With each flourish, you feel a sense of satisfaction, the familiar rhythm of the routine bringing back fond memories. As you finally come to a graceful finish, you can't help but feel a sense of pride wash over you.

Echo applauds, a smile playing on his lips. "That was really impressive. You should've told me you could do that before."

"We all have our hidden talents," you grin, a twinkle in your eye as you admire the old memory in your hand before carefully tucking it back into the box. "Anyway, we should probably get going before I get distracted again."

“Well,” he says, resting a hand on your shoulder, “you should perform for me again sometime. If you want to that is.”

There’s a shine in his eyes, genuinely in awe of you and your talent. “I’ll definitely think about it.”

Hunter

Low on credits and desperate for some food to fill your stomachs, you and Hunter venture into a bustling market on a remote planet, hoping to find some opportunity to earn a bit of cash.

"See anything?" Hunter asks, strolling alongside you as you take in the sights and sounds of the market.

"Not really," you reply with a frown. The market is dimly lit, offering little in the way of useful materials, and the locals don't seem particularly welcoming. It's no wonder Hunter insisted on accompanying you.

But then, something does catch your eye. "Hey, that looks like one of my old flags," you remark, pointing to a colorful flag tucked away at the back of a small pop-up stall.

Hunter stops beside you, his interest piqued. "You used to spin those, didn't you?"

You chuckle at his phrasing, yet surprised that he remembers since it was just something you mentioned in passing once. "Yeah, I did. Not sure if I still have the touch, though."

A smirk spreads across Hunter's face as he holds up a finger, indicating for you to wait a moment. A bit embarrassed, you watch as he approaches the seller and strikes up a conversation. After a brief exchange, Hunter returns, flag in hand. "Let's put that theory to the test, shall we?" he suggests with a grin.

"Hunter! Did you just pay for that?" you exclaim incredulously as he shoves the pole into your hand.

"No," he says with a mischievous grin, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "But they said if you can impress them, you can keep it."

You narrow your eyes at him, a mixture of amusement and disbelief dancing in your gaze. "Fine. But I'm warning you," you declare, stepping into a clearing and scanning the area to ensure there's enough space before attempting to recreate a routine you haven't performed in years. "I'm not as good as I used to be."

Taking a deep breath, you grip the pole firmly and let muscle memory take over as you start spinning the flag with practiced precision. The fabric unfurls in vibrant arcs, catching the sunlight and casting colorful patterns across the ground. With each twirl and flourish, you feel a surge of nostalgia as memories of your days in the colour guard come flooding back.

As you continue your impromptu performance, you can't help but lose yourself in the rhythm of the routine, the flag becoming an extension of your body as you spin and swirl with grace.

Hunter is watching you silently and appears to be actually enamoured by your performance. His eyes are wide in surprise.

When you finally come to a graceful finish, you turn to Hunter with a triumphant smile, the flag held aloft in your hand. "How's that for impressing them?" you ask, a hint of pride in your voice.

“That was… wow.” Is all he says, a proud smile on his face. He takes one look to the seller who just gives a brief nod. “And the flag is yours it seems.”

Hunter comes up beside you once more but you feel a tug on your top, turning to face a young child who was holding out credits to you. Bashfully, you accept and the credits swiftly came flooding in.

“Heh, seems like you still got it.” He nudges your side playfully.

This could be a pretty safe way to earn some extra credits it seems.

Wrecker

"Wrecker, come look at this!" you call out excitedly, beckoning your companion over.

With Wrecker's assistance in tidying up the Marauder and transferring some items to the Remora, you stumble upon an unexpected treasure: an old snare drum tucked away amidst the clutter.

"Woah, what's tha’?" Wrecker asks, intrigued, as he joins you on the floor, his eyes fixed on the instrument in your hands.

"I used to play it in a marching band. Forgot I even had it," you reply with a wistful smile, the memories of your band days flooding back, tinged with nostalgia and a touch of sadness for times gone by.

Wrecker notices the flicker of emotion on your face and decides to lift your spirits. "Well, go on then. Give us a beat," he encourages, nudging the drum closer to you and offering a drumstick.

You smile gratefully, feeling a rush of anticipation as you accept the drumstick from his outstretched hand and pick up the matching one from the ground. "Just so you know," you say with a playful glint in your eye, "it sounds much better in a chorus rather than individually."

With a deep breath, you position the drumsticks in your hands, feeling the familiar weight and texture of the material. Closing your eyes, you let muscle memory guide your movements as you begin to play. The rhythmic tapping of the drum reverberates through the air.

As you lose yourself in the music, your fingers move effortlessly across the drum's surface, producing a lively beat that echoes off the walls of the ship. With each stroke, super fast and then skilfully slow, you feel a sense of liberation.

Wrecker watches in awe, a grin spreading cross his face as he listens to the infectious rhythm you create. For a moment, all worries and cares fade away, replaced by the joy of listening to you play. Flourishing a finish, your cheeks warm to Wrecker applauding enthusiastically.

"Tha’ was amazing!" he exclaims, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "You've still got it."

You grin, feeling a surge of pride at his words. "Thanks, Wrecker," you reply, a sense of contentment washing over you. "Maybe we should start our own band."

“Definitely!”

Tech

"Is this yours?" Omega's voice interrupts your thoughts, drawing your attention to the slim case she's holding. As you approach, a wave of nostalgia washes over you at the sight of the familiar case.

"I haven't seen this for a long time," you smile warmly, taking the case into your hands. Kneeling down, you blow the dust off and flip open the lid, revealing your old clarinet nestled inside.

Omega's eyes widen with curiosity as she peers at the instrument. "Wow, that's cool! Did you play it?"

You nod, a fond smile on your face. "Yeah, I used to. In a colour guard and in parades."

"Can you play something now?" she asks eagerly.

Before you can respond, Omega suddenly calls out, "TECH! COME HERE!"

Tech, engrossed in his data pad, looks up in surprise and heads your way. "What is the nature of my presence this time, Omega?"

Omega launches into an exaggerated explanation of your discovery and her request. "Listen to them play."

Tech adjusts his goggles and looks down at you with curious eyes. "I was not aware you could play any instrument."

"I haven't in a long time," you admit sheepishly, wiping the mouthpiece and adjusting the bridge keys. "But I can give it a try."

With a deep breath, you bring the clarinet to your lips and begin to play a soft, melancholic tune. The notes fill the air, weaving a gentle melody that seems to resonate with the quiet stillness of the surroundings. It was a gentle tune, a stark difference to the ones you played in parades.

As you play, you notice Tech glancing up from his data pad, his expression softening as he listens intently to the music. It's a rare sight to see him so engrossed in something other than his work, and you can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction knowing that your music has captured his attention.

By the time you finish the piece, Tech is still watching you, a thoughtful look on his face.

Omega bursts into a loud applause meanwhile Tech smiled at you. “I would not mind you playing that whilst I do some repairs... it’s rather relaxing.”

Crosshair

“What are you doing?” Crosshair's voice breaks your concentration mid-performance, and you freeze as your arms flail, causing the wooden rifle to slip from your grasp and clatter onto the grass.

You spin to face the clone, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck. "I found my old rifle from when I used to perform," you explain quickly, bending down to retrieve the prop. With a flick of your foot, you send it spinning into the air, catching it effortlessly as it falls back down. "Want to see?"

Crosshair eyes the rifle with a hint of intrigue, his skepticism giving way to mild interest. "Perform? Rifles are for shooting. Not messing around with.”

“It’s wood, idiot.” You knock on the equipment before you then shrug, a sheepish grin tugging at your lips. "Anyway, it’s called rifle spinning. I used to do it as part of a routine in a performance group. It's more about coordination and showmanship than anything else. Wanna see?” You ask again.

Crosshair nods slowly, his gaze lingering on the rifle as you twirl it expertly in your hands. He stands back as you shows off your moves and he couldn’t hide the small impressed smirk forming on his lips. "You’re quite impressive I’ll give you that. But don't let it distract you from our mission." The compliment was rare but not one you were going to refuse as you give him a smile of thanks. But, he was right. There were more pressing matters at large.

You chuckle, nodding in agreement as you secure the rifle back in its holster. "Of course not. Just a little trip down memory lane."

Masterlist

Tags:

@littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 7 @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix x @mssbridgerton @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @imalovernotahater @id-rather-be-a-druid @the-bad-batch-baroness @lulalovez @green-alm0nd

[vodika-vibes]

hi congrats for 500 followers!! i wanted to request the gem topaz with crosshair in winter please! where the reader is introducing crosshair to some dishes they grew up eating (a lot of different spicy foods! i love spicy food and grew up eating a ton of it lol). crosshair’s reaction to the spicy food is all up to you! i want that to be a surprise, but the reader has a suuper high spice tolerance so crosshair is surprised

Love Language

Summary: Cooking is your love language. You don’t really do it all that often, though. You’re just too busy. But for your date with Crosshair, you decide to make the time.

Pairing: TBB Crosshair x GN!Reader

Word Count: 585

Prompt: Topaz - Affectionate Love

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: I hope you like it! For some reason, the words don't want to word today. It's frustrating. So I'm not sure if I got the right vibe here.

“I didn’t know you could cook, princess.” Crosshair notes thoughtfully as he leans against the counter next to you.

“Well,” You note as you add some additional spices to the curry you’re making, and then set the jar to the side and wipe your hands, “I don’t have a lot of free time, Cross. So generally I just eat out. But, well-”

“Well?” He prods.

You scowl at him, hoping that he doesn’t notice that you’re blushing, “Cooking is my love language, so I thought that I’d cook for you.”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and you glance at him. He looks surprised, but there’s also a small, pleased, smile on his lips. So you don’t think he’ll tease you too much about it.

“Have you cooked for anyone else?”

“Not recently.” You admit with a shrug, “I mean, I cook for my parents from time to time, but they don’t travel as much now. So…it’s just you, really.” A smug grin crosses his face, and you release a huff before you elbow him, “Don’t be smug.”

“Can’t help it, princess.” He drapes an arm over your shoulder, “You love me enough to cook for me. That’s something to be smug about.” His arm tightens around you slightly, and you willingly lean into his side, “Smells spicy.”

“Mm, my homeworld is a desert, so we use a lot of spices.” You explain as  you take a careful taste of the curry and consider it for a moment. It’s not quite as spicy as you prefer, but you’re not cooking for yourself. “Here, taste.”

Crosshair shoots you a look, but takes the offered spoon for a taste. 

“Mm, it’s good.” He glances at you, “If you wanted to add more spice, though, you definitely can.” Crosshair flashes a small smile, “We can’t use a lot of spices because of Hunter.”

“Are you sure?” You ask.

“Positive.”

“Well, if you insist.” You reply, before you slide out of his grip and head over to your spice cabinet. Inside, located inside a small pouch, is some spices from your homeworld. 

You generally only cook with them when you’re cooking for yourself, but you have to admit that you want to share some part of your culture with Crosshair. You add a pinch of the spices, you only need a little after all, and soon after the kitchen is filled with the rich scents of your spices.

It reminds you of home, this was what your mother’s kitchen used to smell like all of the time when you were growing up.

You hope Crosshair likes it.

You also hope that you’ll get the chance to introduce him to your family eventually. 

His arms slide around your waist, and you squeak when he presses his face against your neck. “It smells amazing,” Crosshair says against your neck, “You’re going to tempt me into visiting your homeworld at this rate.”

You laugh softly, “Well, they do say that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.” 

He presses a kiss against your cheek, “Well, it’s working.”

“You haven’t even tried it yet.”

He shrugs, and releases you to grab some plates, “What can I say, I’m a simple man.”

And you grin at him, “Well, if you want to go to my homeworld, I can introduce you to my family. They’re all eager to meet ‘that charming young man of yours’.” you say with a grin.

“Charming, huh.” Crosshair says with a laugh, “I can do charming.”

[stardust-kenobi]

Hey! I saw your requests are open. I absolutely love your work, and i how you're doing alright! I will take any opportunity I can to request Tech x Reader smut with Dom!Tech vibes 💜

Sorry I know you requested this a while ago but I’m just now getting around to it! Hope you enjoy this quick little drabble <3

Did someone say dom!tech 👀?? I am blushing

Tech x GN!Reader drabble

Warnings: rough/dom/possessive/jealous(?) tech, smut, 18+ minors DNI

How did you get here? How did you end up with your body shoved against the building behind 79’s, Tech’s cock buried inside of you, with his hand pressed against your mouth, suffocating your moans?

Quite frankly, you didn’t give a shit how you ended up here, you just knew you never wanted it to end.

Something lit a fire into Tech earlier in the night. Maybe it was the way that Rex couldn’t keep his wandering eyes off of you. Maybe it was even the revealing nature of the outfit you chose to wear. Maybe it had just been too long since he’d felt you, and he couldn’t take it anymore.

“That’s right, darling, take my cock” He growled against your ear, his thrusts turning brutal as he fucked you from behind.

This was not the Tech you knew in bed. This was a version of Tech with such a burning hunger for you that he couldn’t stand it not one minute longer. He was possessive of your body, his grip around you being relentless. You didn’t mind it one bit, in fact, you loved this. It was unexpected, and turned you on more than you were willing to admit.

“Maker, you are so good” He gritted through this teeth. Your cries of pleasure seeped through his fingers over your mouth.

He yanked his hand tighter against your face, causing your skin to burn, but it hurt so good.

“You want this whole bar to know who you belong to, hm?” He whispered against your ear. You nodded.

“Go ahead, then, darling. Tell them who fucks you this good” He smirked.

“Stars, Tech. You fuck me so good” You whimpered. In response to your filthy remarks, he fucked you faster and harder now. He loved watching your ass bounce against him with every thrust.

Your legs began to tremble as you became overwhelmed with your approaching orgasm. You felt the tingling form in your lower belly, and his cock filled you so perfectly, brushing your most sensitive places with every stroke. It was all too much.

“Come for me” Tech demanded.

You obeyed, feeling the rush of your euphoria wash over you. The feeling in your legs faded, as all sense of feeling centered in between your legs. Loud cries of pleasure escaped you, but Tech did nothing to suppress your expressions now.

“That’s it. Oh, Y/N, I’m going to fill you up” He faltered, his hips losing their rhythm as he spilled his release inside of you, marking you even more…as his.

[starrylothcat]

Crosshair with any of the following spicy prompts: 8, 13, 15, 17, or 20. It's up to you! Or Crosshair with any of the spicy prompt of your choice

Hello dear, dear anon. I feel blessed with all these options! Now I turn this blessing into SIN!

I chose…#20 “I love seeing all these markings on you.”

Marked

Summary: Crosshair loves marking you up with his mouth.

Pairing: Crosshair x GN Reader

Word Count: 500

Warnings: NSFW. 18+. Hickey/biting kink? We all know he has an oral fixation. Use of kitten as petname, reader not described.

Spicy Prompts List

You wiggled under Crosshair’s grasp, his one hand pinning both your wrists above your head as his other hand rolled and twisted your nipple under his long, skilled fingers. You gasped at the sensation and felt Crosshair smirk against your neck. He was licking and nipping right under your ear, rutting his rigid cock against your thigh and loving how you were writhing under his hold.

“C-Cross…” You gasped as he pulled on your erect nipple, arousal burning in your veins, spreading from head to toe as he sucked against your neck.

You whined at the feeling of him leaving a hickey, desperate for your hands to be free so you could touch him, feel his stiff cock under your hands, but he wouldn’t let you.

Not yet.

“Easy, kitten.” Crosshair tightened his hold around your wrists, now licking the bruise that would be highly visible on your neck tomorrow morning.

“I’m not done.”

Crosshair kissed down your neck further, nibbling, biting, tasting, and leaving more marks as he went, his free hand now giving equal attention to your other nipple.

You were now bucking up against him, hoping to gain some friction from his cock on your now dripping arousal.

Crosshair grunted at your actions, steadfast in keeping your hands trapped above your head as he continued his work. He wasn’t finished with you yet.

Crosshair was now kissing his way back up the other side of your neck, more marks left behind in his wake.

Your body was on fire, longing for more, for his mouth to be elsewhere, for your hands to feel his skin twitch and flex as he pounds into you.

His low hums of satisfaction against your skin were getting louder, reacting to every sigh that left your lips with each pass of his tongue and canines against your neck.

Finally, Crosshair pulled away from you, gazing down at your pleasured face with a satisfied smirk, his hand still teasing your pert nipple.

“I love seeing all these markings on you. My markings.” His eyes darkened, admiring his work as you squirmed under his grip, hoping he would release you.

“Crosshair, please…I need more.” Your cry for him was pathetic and you knew it, but your craving for him was reaching critical levels.

Crosshair finally released your wrists, deciding you’ve earned your freedom. Your hands flew to the side of his head, bringing him for a heated kiss, your fingers digging into his silver locks.

Crosshair leaned on his forearms around your head, his naked body finally, fully pressing into yours, swallowing one another’s groans as your feverish kiss intensified. Your mouths devoured one another’s until you were in need of air. Crosshair pulled away, allowing you to catch the breaths you needed.

“Don’t worry, kitten. You’ll get more.” His voice was gravel, laced with intense desire as he pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss over one of the many blotches on your neck. The gentle moment didn’t last long, though.

You yelped as Crosshair quickly and suddenly moved down between your legs, throwing your thighs over his shoulders. His eyes met yours momentarily, focused and glinting with dark promise.

He growled as he sank his teeth into the highly sensitive and soft flesh of your inner thigh, loving the way your legs twitched and your hips bucked against him. Loving your choked moan taking the form of his name, loving that only he could make you feel this way, and that he will be able to see these marks for days, reminding you both of what you shared.

“Plenty more.”

More spicy prompts!

Taglist: @blueink-bluesoul @pb-jellybeans @the-cantina @king-chaos-world @wolffegirlsunite @523rdrebel @dukeoftheblackstar @sleepingsun501 @wanderer-six

[cc--2224]

Second Impressions

Pairing: Crosshair x GN! Reader

Summary: You expected the worst when the Bad Batch were assigned to be your bodyguards, but first impressions aren't always everything. It doesn't take long for you to get close to them, well, most of them.

Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, mentions of broken bones/injuries

Notes: Can be seen as platonic or romantic, however you'd like! Also, softer than normal Crosshair because I'm into that

Word Count: ~2.5k

Taglist: None, let me know if you'd like to be added!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

You didn't have a chance to react to the nearby explosion before you felt something collide with you. It felt like durasteel barreling into you, you felt a sharp pain and then a weight on top of you before it went quiet. Your eyes were glued shut, fearing what you might see if you opened them.

It was supposed to be a normal day, or at least as normal as it could be. You had been traveling with Clone Force 99 on a series of expeditions, with them acting as somewhat of your bodyguards while you conducted your research on different planets. 

They hadn't really been keen on the assignment at the start, deeming it "too boring to just go around looking at plants" and "not a job worthy of their skills" as you had heard them say. In all fairness, you weren't sold on the idea either, but your protests had fallen on deaf ears. The war had become too dangerous for you to venture out on your own, and nearly every other unit was too preoccupied fighting that war to assist you. 

As your research continued, however, you got used to them, even growing to like them. They were much different than any other clones you had worked with, each of them had enhanced abilities, and incredibly different personalities. Over time, you had begun to consider them your friends. 

Wrecker became willing to help you with the heavy lifting that your job entailed, bringing the larger samples you had to gather back to the ship. Hunter's astute senses started to come in handy when you were tasked to locate rare vegetation that no one seemed to be able to pinpoint the location of. Tech was always okay with having his brain picked whenever you had questions or needed someone to bounce ideas off of. And then there was Crosshair. His sharp eyes, always watching from a distance, never getting too close to you. His tongue was just as sharp as his eye, and the few times he did speak to you, it was never to exchange pleasantries or words of comfort. You were positive that if the others had considered you a friend, Crosshair most certainly did not. 

Your first impression of him left much to be desired, as much as you tried to befriend him.

You learned early on that it was best to let him do his own thing, although there was a part of you that was almost upset by that. You had heard him on more than one occasion joking with the others, and you had tried to use that as an opportunity to speak to him, figuring the other times he was just in a bad mood and now it had been lifted, but when you'd open your mouth, he would close back up. You wished that you could have gotten to know him as well as you had his brothers, but his boundaries were set and you did your best to respect them.

When your research brought you to Felucia, you were slightly apprehensive to go there. You had heard of recent skirmishes between the Republic forces and the Separatists, but decided you would be far enough away from any outposts to get in and out without issue. 

The ship landed about a klick away from the co-ordinates your supervisor had sent you, and when you exited the ship, the dense forest seemed empty. Feeling a false sense of security, you insisted on going to find the fungi you were sampling on your own. The others didn't see any problem with that, so they accepted the idea, but only if you remembered to comm them if there was danger. Their terms seemed reasonable enough, so you agreed and made your way into the forest.

You hadn't been gone long before there was unrest in the Marauder.

"Was it really a wise decision to let them go on their own?" Crosshair asked with his teeth grinding against a toothpick. 

"They'll be fine, there's hardly ever any conflict around here, and definitely not this deep in the forest." Hunter tried, unsuccessfully, to reassure him. 

"If you are so worried about their wellbeing, why did you not go with them?" Tech glanced over at him before looking back to the control panel he had begun fiddling with.

"Yeah, Cross, you like them or something?" Wrecker joined in with more of a teasing tone than his brothers had.

Crosshair simply scowled at all of them in reply before standing from his chair. 

"I'm going to take a look around."

No one said anything else while he made his way outside, but they each exchanged their own secret looks.

His eyes scanned the area, but found no trace of you aside from your footprints in the mud, and thankfully no sign of any danger. But just as he was about to walk to the other side of the ship, he heard the sound of distant blaster fire coming from the direction in which you had taken off. 

Without thinking, he started off into the forest, following your footprints as best as he could. Through the trees, he could see a tank crushing the trees in its path and a patrol of droids following it.

"Kriff." He muttered under his breath as he tried to find your trail again. 

You had gotten lost in your work, you didn't really know where you were relative to any occupied villages on the planet, and you didn't know how long it was taking you to retrieve the samples you were instructed to obtain. Until you had heard blaster fire, you weren't even aware there could be anyone this far out. It sounded far away, so you thought you could finish what you were doing before going back to the ship. The return fire sounded much closer, and this worried you. You sighed and reached for your blaster in case things went awry, but found the holster empty.

This seemed like the kind of danger the others would have expected you to comm about, and just as you were bringing your commlink up to speak, you saw a flash coming toward you, and that's when you felt something colliding with you.

It was dark.

Death? Is that what this was? 

No, your eyes were closed, that's why it was dark. Death wouldn't hurt this much. You were suddenly very aware of a pain radiating from your side into your chest.

But you couldn't find the will to open your eyes, when you did eventually try, your vision was blurry and you were forced to shut them again.

You felt a weight on top of you, halting your movement and shallowing your breath. The nearby conflict you heard, and now the ringing in your ears meant there must have been some kind of explosion. You tried to piece together what just happened, but with limited movement and blurred vision, that task was proving difficult. You must have been lucky enough to miss the explosion, but unlucky enough to be in the range of flying debris, and you couldn't bring your comm up to call for help.

You figured that if death didn't find you already, it soon would.

As you resigned yourself to your fate, you heard a muffled voice, it didn't sound like a battle, it just sounded like one almost desperate voice, you thought you heard it say your name but you couldn't be sure. 

The weight lifted from your chest and you heard the muted sounds of blaster fire before it was silent again. In the silence, you felt your head being lifted slowly from the ground, almost like you were being cradled.

"Please..." The voice returned, becoming more clear. "Wake up." 

Your eyebrows furrowed and a groan sounded from your throat. Slowly, your eyes opened, you had to blink a couple times before you could clearly see the figure holding you.

"Cross..hair?" 

He sighed in relief. "You're okay."

"Y-Yeah but.. what happened?" You tried to sit up on your own, but his hand was still firm on your back, stabilizing you. You felt the sharp pain in your side and your chest more furiously as you breathed in, and you winced in response. "I feel like I was hit by a railspeeder." 

"No, luckily just plastoid." He looked over you, trying to assess any injuries, but he almost looked guilty when he met your eye. "...Sorry." 

You looked at him with a confused expression.

"There was a clanker patrol in the area, must have been targeting a nearby village, but a tank fired this way. I tackled you out of the way, I guess doing so injured you."

You looked down at his chestplate, and pieced together that the impact you felt, as well as the weight on top of you, it had been him. 

"Can you stand?" He asked, standing up slowly and offering you a hand to help you up.

You took it but when you tried standing, the pain you felt in your side became worse, shooting in different directions across your torso and bringing tears to your eyes. 

He stopped trying to help you up and in a swift movement, he carefully scooped you off the ground. 

"We'll take a look at that when we get back to the ship." He said and started walking back.

It took a few moments to feel comfortable, both with your injuries and with his demeanour. He had never expressed interest in being near you, and now he was willingly carrying you back to the ship.

As if he could feel your stare, his eyes darted over to meet yours. "What is it?"

"Why are you being so nice to me?" You asked quietly, still looking at his face intently, like you were trying to draw out his usual annoyed expression.

"What do you mean?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I mean... you never even talk to me. And now you apparently saved my life."

He looked ahead with a stern expression. 

"We were hired as your bodyguards." He reminded you.

"I didn't even know you were there."

"I was wor- …I disagreed that it was safe for you to go out by yourself, and then I heard the blasters, so I came to find you." He paused, considering your earlier words and how he acted toward you prior to this.

In truth, he had seen how close you had gotten to Hunter, Wrecker, and Tech and he didn't feel you had a place for him. He tried to be content to watch from afar as he always had, it was what he was made for after all. Keeping his distance was his role in every mission they took, and he was certain this mission would be no different. But watching from afar, observing the way your eyes lit up when you spoke about your research, your smile that grew when you'd talk to his brothers, everything about your interactions with them planted a bitter, jealous seed inside of him. Knowing they could talk to you so freely, that they could draw those smiles from you, a smile that he wished he could see up close. And knowing that he could too, if he hadn't pushed you away anytime you tried to get near him. He was petulant in the way he craved your affection, while also refusing to get close to you, to let you in, but he'd never admit that to himself much less to you.

"As for not talking to you," He continued, "I'm just… not talkative."

"You're talking now." You countered, and you were met with a slight smirk. "I always assumed you just hated me or something."

He didn't answer for a long time after that. You were nearly at the Marauder when he finally spoke again.

"I never hated you. It just takes time for me to get used to people. I like you." His eyes widened just slightly enough that you notice. "I mean, I like having you around."

You could feel yourself blushing. You tried shifting to bring your face closer to his, but you were unable to without causing yourself more pain. He noticed your movement and stopped for a moment so you could readjust yourself in his arms.

"Crosshair, can you.. come closer for a second." 

He glanced down at you before obliging, bringing his head down so he was level with you. You slowly moved your head toward his and kissed his cheek. 

"Thank you… for saving me."

He snapped his head back and you smiled slightly when you saw the tips of his ears reddening. He didn't say anything, but he gave you an acknowledging nod.

When you finally returned to the ship, Crosshair laid you down gently on your bunk as your injuries were scanned and treated as best as they could be, unfortunately bacta patches wouldn't do much for broken ribs, but bedrest would.

Crosshair kept you company as much as he could while you healed. His visits were often silent, there were many times where he just stood and watched over you. It was awkward at first, but you started to understand that was how he'd feel he was keeping you safe. Although, sometimes he would attempt to get to know you, he's sit at the end of your bunk asking you questions about your research. A topic that would always send you into a verbal frenzy for which he wouldn't accept any apology. On occasion he would also allow you to ask him questions about himself, but there was never any consistency to how much or how little he would tell you. You knew he was trying to open up to you in his own way, and this led you to reconsider how you first felt about him. You wished you hadn't jumped to conclusions about him, but at the same time you were glad that he was willingly opening himself up to you rather than you breaking a boundary by mistake. You began to feel closer to him the more time you spent with him, and you slowly began to understand that he considered you a friend long before the events on Felucia, even though he never made it clear. 

Everything about him felt different now. His discerning eye always watching, somehow always being able to read you with ease regardless of what you did and didn't tell him. His sharp wit always countering your own. You learned that he was never one to exchange pleasantries or offer words of comfort, but you didn't hold it against him as you once had. Even after you had healed, he was more open to speaking with you, when you heard him joking with his brothers, he no longer closed himself off when you approached. Instead, he'd usually make a small joke at your expense. 

Your second impression of Crosshair was much better than the first, now that you understood him more than you thought you had early on.

While you hoped you wouldn't have to deal with a couple broken ribs and bedrest again any time soon, it wasn't the worst thing to happen to you. Although getting even closer to Crosshair without having to go through all of that again would be much more ideal.