#crosshairxreader

[crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf]

“Are you hungry or not?”

Crosshair x F!Reader One Shot

Summary:

Prison life is already unfair as it is, but when a clone guard ends up being your solitary warden you may have no choice but to do what ever he says.

WC: 4405- Read on Ao3

*this is just my general "mature rating" specifics:

Content Warning:

Smut. Coercion/Questionable consent, Uneven power dynamic, Unethical Dom Crosshair, Oral (f receiving), Orgasm denial, begging, humiliation (?... sure), Unprotected PiV and creampie, Light restraining, mind games. Rough all around.

Authors Note: I was not able to make in universe swearing work with this one, so FUCK it is. Also, I took all of One Shot Cross's ethic points and gave them to Disgrace Crosshair so now this one is just an utter menace. Hope that helps.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Hours had passed. 

Normally, there'd be an orderly with a food tray, then the inquisitors with their scowling guard, but today…

You sprawled on the bunk and  looked at the clock in your plain cell and your stomach growled. Hours since the usual meal time. 

Are they trying to starve a confession out of me?

It wouldn't help, you weren't an insurrectionist. Just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Didn't stop them from locking you away. They had no intention of letting anyone suspected of treason see trial anytime soon. Stuck in holding limbo while they questioned you day after day... Till days became months. 

But not today. 

You jumped as the door swished open without the usual warning clamor of boots or the rattle of the food cart. Bolting upright you turned on your bed to face the door. 

A single clone trooper was framed in the doorway holding a tray of food casually in one hand. 

This one was odd; Overly tall, slim with narrow features and a shock of white hair. He was a familiar sight, usually standing behind the Lieutenant that was leading the questioning for the day. He was the one that snickered when you suggested your inquisitor eat his own testicles. 

The light glinted off the ominous black armor as he paced through the harsh white room and set the tray on the metal table in the middle with a sharp clatter. Then he stepped back, twirling the toothpick between his lips as he observed you,

“Well?”

“Well… what?”

“Are you hungry or not?”

You were, but you eyed the soldier suspiciously,

“Where’s everyone else? Why's it just you?”

He smirked,

“Seems they forgot about you… guess that makes you my problem,”

You weren't sure what that meant, but it looked like the best answer you'd get for now. Standing, you cautiously crossed the few feet to the table and perched on one of the attached metal seats by the tray. 

It had the usual: protein gel, fresh piece of fruit, portion of hard grain bread and water… and…a dessert. 

That's new…

You eyed the small canister of sweet custard before flicking your gaze to the soldier. 

“You… sticking around?”

“Mm”

You picked up the utensils on the tray and poked at the jelly mass that represented most of your daily calories. With only him standing there it felt… awkward. 

“If it's just you, why don't you sit?... This feels too… watched.”

It wasn't just the situation. He was watching you. Intently. You could feel his eyes boring into the top of your skull every time you looked down. You offered again,

“Sit.”

“You're in no position to be giving orders…”

…

He sat. Elbows on the table, hands folded under rested chin, eyes… focused on your face. 

You gave up trying to eat the undignified nutrient paste under such scrutiny and picked up the stone fruit instead, biting into its soft flesh to fill your mouth with tangy juice that ran down your chin. 

He watched. 

“Seriously… What are you doing here, Trooper?”

“Commander.”

“Commander trooper.”

“Crosshair.”

You glanced over the tattoo around his eye. 

Yeah, that makes sense. 

“You still haven't answered me Commander.”

“I already did. They. Forgot. You. Fallen between the cracks.”

“But you didn't?”

His cheeks tinged the most subtle shade of pink. He didn't answer. 

“So, now I'm your problem…”

“Indeed. No one will be coming to feed you, No more questions, Just you, this cell… and me,”

There was a growl to his voice that sent a shiver up your spine. You didn't want to guess at what he was implying, though you didn't need to. He stood leaning on his palms against the table top, a devilish look in his eyes. 

“Do you want to keep eating, inmate?”

You gulped, taking in his posture, his expression, his eyes boring hungrily into you. 

“You're not suggesti-”

“I am.”

“You can't be serious.”

“I am.”

You sat straight, shifting uncomfortably. There wasn't denying you had looked at the soldier before, even had the intrusive thought to ask him to stay behind once or twice… but this…

“This is an abuse of your position, soldier…”

He snatched out, fingers digging into your cheeks as he roughly turned your face up to look at him. 

“It's a risk, sneaking food down here, what's a little… mutual benefit? I bring you food, you give me whatever I want,”

He leaned in breath hot against your ear,

“You get to eat… and so do I.”

Your breath caught as an unbidden heat warmed your inner thighs… those long months of isolation making you easy to tease. This was unfair and you bit your cheek in indignation. 

“Think about it. I'll be back tomorrow… but if I stick around after that… that's up to you.”

He moved from the table, punching a code into the door and slipping out in a fluid motion leaving you to stew with what might possibly be your second to last meal. 

~~~

You sat at the edge of the bunk, leg bouncing in distress as you looked over the dirty tray from yesterday. No one had come for it. The automated lights clicked out and then back on again and no one had come to get the tray. They always came to get the tray. 

The door swished open. Crosshair, laden with food, scanning till he saw your jittery form on the bunk. 

“Hey, asshole, what's the big idea?”

They can't have really… 

But he just shrugged,

“I told you the deal,”

He placed the tray on the table, more carefully than before, and lowered himself to the bench opposite it. Elbows up, chin on folded hands… watching you. 

“Eat.”

…

“And if I do?”

His lip twitched into that mirthless smirk again,

“Then I'll take it you've come to terms with your… predicament.”

You stifled a shiver, already feeling naked under his intense gaze. 

“Wh-when… how soon… after?”

Your voice wobbled slightly and his eyebrow rose, like he wasn't expecting you to play along so easily. You flushed and turned from his staring.  

I can't believe I'm even-

“Tomorrow.”

Your heart fluttered, confusing you, and you turned back to him.

“I'll be back tomorrow… be ready for me,”

He left quickly, leaving you with your conflicted thoughts and lackluster meal.

You could swear this was… anticipation. 

Your thighs clenched against the warmth pooling through you. 

~~~

Your heart was in your throat. You could feel it, you knew that if you just opened your mouth in the mirror you would see it beating there. So you stared at your reflection with your jaw clenched, hair dripping cold rivlettles down your skin.

You looked at your last pair of clean prison scrubs and wondered what it was gonna cost to get a fresh set from your new clone warden. 

Speaking of,

The door swished open, and you looked up to catch his eyes in the open fresher mirror. He was looking bemused over your toweled, dripping visage. 

“I said be ready but I wasn't expecting you so… eager,”

You flushed, snatching the scrubs and slipping them on over the towel, dropping the damp cloth once you were properly clothed. He snickered, and you spun back to face him. Crosshair took a measured step towards you but hesitated, turning instead to gesture at the tray that had appeared on the table. 

“This… is your half,”

“I'm not exactly hungry, right this second…”

He shrugged, then rushed you. You felt the cold panels of the walls against your back as you were pinned to them. 

“My half then.”

“Wait!”

He rocked back, letting you slide out from under him to catch your breath. 

“Don't just… come at me like that,”

His hand closed on your wrist, tugging you back around.

“The food is for you, inmate. This,”

He tugged you into him squeezing your ass through the rough fabric,

“This is for me, My pleasure. Don't mistake that,”

You were tossed roughly into the bunk, the matress hitting the back of your knees to buckle them and you sat with a thump. He loomed over you, tugging off his gloves, a dangerous fire in his sharp eyes. 

“The only thing you decide is who gets theirs first,”

You trembled, looking up at the man knowing with all assuredness that he was going to take you. You knew it would be rough. You knew from every little intrusive thought you had when your eyes would meet his over some suit shoulder or another the past few months. 

…

“Take yours,”

A wicked smile broke his intensity, and he stripped off more armor. You noticed he hadn't brought a gun today… Clever. 

His outer shell dropped away, leaving him in his tight black under suit and boots. 

“On your knees,”

You made to protest but he caught your jaw, hooking his thumb between your teeth to hold you by your pallet. 

“Not your decision, On. Your. Knees. ”

You made a noise in your throat, all you could really manage. He nodded your head for you with a flick of his wrist before releasing you to position yourself, tugging you by your hair when you made to angle your ass to him; instead, he positioned you parallel to the edge. Pressure on the back of your neck and you collapsed, cheek pressed to the sheets and ass high over your knees. 

“Perfect,”

He purred. The mattress dipped as he sat behind you, firm hands brushing over the fabric guarding your rump to rest on your pelvis just before the small of your back. Fingers toyed with the hem of your useless scrubs, before slipping into them; feeling your hips, he traced them down your navel till he could feel the heat of you. You gasped as he brushed against the tender lips at the apex of your thighs. He ventured further, dipping his fingertip into the warmth of you to slide the evidence of your arousal back over the petals. 

A groan escaped him when he felt how wet you were. Dipping into your again, too shallow, but you wouldn't admit you needed more even as a small moan played across your lips. 

“Have you been wanting this?”

You didn't answer, hiding your flushed cheeks against the mattress. 

His hands withdrew and the bottoms were yanked down to your knees. 

You couldn't see him from this angle, just his legs casually sitting behind your exposed thighs… and his fingers, gripping those thighs hard. You could tell he was looking you over and you flushed even hotter. This was no good, it had been too long…

The muscles of your sex twitched in need, and you could feel slick fluid drip down your heated cunt to fall from your lips onto the sheets. You were growing more sensitive with your increased pulse alone. Not good.  

You felt him reach for your wrists, pulling your arms to fold behind your back. He held them like that one handed, and you could feel him shift closer to you, sitting on your calves to pin them, legs draping over yours and face almost even with your raised buttock. You felt his breath stir against your quim and you whimpered. 

“Remember, inmate,”

He had sensed your eagerness for what he was possitioning himself for.

“My pleasure, not yours.”

His leg wrapped around your arched back, bringing the distinct feeling of a boot sole against the back of your head. You almost turned to look but your head was pushed back down, ground under his heel. You whimpered again, unable to move with him restraining your body so efficiently with his own. 

“My pleasure.”

And then his tongue plunged into you, making you jerk and gasp as the sudden intrusion. 

He worked his tongue in and out of your cunt with slow, even drags that had you moaning weakly into the sheet. Groans rumbled through the sensitive skin whenever your walls would clench around his flexing muscle and he’d push deeper, digging his nose and teeth against you as he attempted to reach fully into your depths. 

Anytime you jerked too violently his boot would crush you down again, arms tugged tighter together to pull your hips firmer against his face. His lips moved lower, sucking your sensitive bud into his mouth with a whisper of satisfaction that made you squirm. A soft sob choked from you.

He held you tight as he flicked his tongue against your clit, making you jolt and tremble. Your legs began to shake as the mounting pressure started to build up to a crescendo…

And he pulled back, eliciting a pathetic whine from your lips. 

“You'll come when I want you to.”

Teeth sank into your ass and you cried out only for it to be muffled by his boot shoving your face into the mattress. Then he was working your cunt again, lapping at the dripping petals to make you gasp. 

Torture. 

They had sent him to torture you. 

The seemingly endless cycle of being licked to an edge just to have him stop cold, lean back and watch as you shook and squirmed for some semblance of relief… it was torture. 

You're not sure when you started to beg, but as another climax was yanked from you a choked pleading tore from your throat. 

“Please, Crosshair, let me cum!”

Boot. Mattress. Then his mouth back to your folds, lapping hard against your swollen and sensitive clit. 

You groaned lustily against the sheet without that pesky dignity from before, he wasn't gonna be able to keep you from going over for long. Every brush, every lick felt like it could be your undoing. 

You felt weak, trying to twist your wrists away from his grip but it was useless; his hand closed over them like a vice. Your body had started to shake and wouldn't stop. He pulled away again and you bucked against his hold, 

“Krriffff, Crosshair, please,”

He chuckled, drawing his tongue across the length of your slit from front to back making you sob and your pelvis to clench. 

“What do you want, sweetheart?”

“I want t-to cum… please,”

He pressed his thumb to your entrance with his free hand, adding the smallest hint of pressure to make you moan. 

“Be more specific.”

“Please, I want to cum… make me cum,”

It wasn't exactly coherent, the words spilling from you,

He clicked his tongue,

“If you just want to cum you can do that yourself,”

Another jolt of pressure, his thumb pulling your lips open slightly to expose your opening more clearly. 

“What. Do. You. Want?”

You whined under his boot heel, trying to wiggle your ass to push against his thumb, desperate for any contact. 

“I want you to make me cum, Crosshair, please make me cum! Kriff, please?”

He made a contented noise that rumbled through his chest, sliding his thumb forward to spread your petals, lifting the hood over your clit… and blew. 

Your senses exploded, all your muscles going tight at once and he lunged, sucking your button roughly, nipping his teeth against the bundled nerves driving the climax deeper through your brain. You came, rigid against his firm hold, unable to even cry out as your lungs were crushed by your own spasming. Fluid ran down your legs, chased by his tongue. There were sparkles in your vision, your synapsis on fire… and then you were spent, falling limp and gasping against him. 

He kissed your ass cheek, then bit it lightly before pulling your bottoms back up and untangling himself from your numb limbs. 

Crosshair rose from the bed, stretched, then reached for his discarded armor… confusing you,

“Was that really all you wanted?”

He looked over his shoulder at you, now sprawled prone over the bed, and smirked. A triumphant look danced behind his eyes. 

“What else might I want?”

Your gaze roved over his tight muscles, barely hidden under the tight black fabric of his under clothing. Down his shoulders to his hips, the tight buttock and thighs. Your appraisal wasn't unnoticed and he turned slightly, letting you look at him more. His chest, his abs… your eyes darted down to the straining fabric at his groin and a small, needy moan escaped you as your pussy twitched. 

“Don't you want to fuck me?”

A slight smile played across his lips, dancing behind his eyes. 

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

“Stars yes…”

There was no use denying it. Now that he was here, partially stripped and hard for you there was no way you were letting him leave. 

“Fuck me, Crosshair,”

He turned fully towards you, stroking himself thoughtfully through the fabric of his pants. 

“I suppose I could fuck you, How ba~dly… do you want me to fuck you, inmate?”

“Badly… awfully, Please take me, Crosshair,”

You ground your hips into the mattress, watching him standing there, stroking himself lazily…so nonchalant…

Damn it…

“Take your close off, inmate.”

He stepped back, leaning himself against the table. 

 You obediently say up, tugging the hem of your shirt up.

“Slower.”

The command hit you in your core, and your breath came shaky as you, slowly, tugged the shirt up over your breasts, then head… and it was off. Your nipples hardened at the sudden cold air, having dressed too hastily to find under things. Next came the pants, and you hooked your thumbs into the band. 

“Stand for those.”

You stood with a wobble, legs still feeling more like jelly than flesh and bone. The waistband slipped down your hips, your thighs, then fell to the floor. 

He palmed his covered cock as he took in your nudity. 

“Be a good girl and give me a little turn,”

His fingers made a spin motion and you swallowed, waiting for a sense of indignation, an urge to stop this that never came. You obeyed. Turning slowly, letting him see your back and ass, then facing him again. 

“Very good… now get on all fours, facing me,”

You flushed, but did as he said, lowering yourself to your hands and knees to look at him from the floor. 

“Come here, like that. Crawl to me, sweetheart.”

You balked for the first time in this new routine, flushing a deep red at the humiliating command. He cocked an eyebrow,

“If you don't want to I could always leave…”

You gritted your teeth, knowing you weren't likely to deny anything he asked from this point, and crawled forward. The bare panel flooring was hard against your knees but you closed the distance, coming even with his legs casually leaning against the table. 

“Now tell me… what do you want?”

You gulped, your vision completely dominated by his visage poised over you. Relaxed, in control, slowly stroking the outline of his length to tease you more than himself. 

“I-i want you to fuck me, Crosshair,”

“You can do better than that… what exactly do you want?”

He gripped himself pointedly through his blacks and your vision blurred with need. Lips trembling, a hint of pleading back in your voice,

“I want your cock…”

“Where do you want it?”

…

“Inside me.”

Flushing, you looked away, his knee nudged your chin to meet his eyes again. 

“All together now, from the top…”

“I want you to fuck me, Crosshair, I want your… cock inside of me.”

Your eyes stayed obediently on his, his knee still pressed to your cheek. 

“You can be nicer than that,”

Exasperation forced a frustrated sigh from you, causing his eyebrows to raise again and your jaw to clench. 

“Please, fuck me, Crosshair… I want your cock inside me… please…”

As the first plea left you a shiver went down your spine, a small thrill from the submissive action. You nuzzled the knee pressed to your chin, forcing his eyes to widen for a brief second. 

“If you want it so badly, darling, why don't you just take it then?”

He slid to sit on the bench proper, legs spread wide to either side of you, crotch jutted towards your eager, lustful expression. 

“Why don't you fuck yourself on my cock?”

He smirked down, rolling his hips subtly to challenge you into action. 

Perhaps he didn't expect you to take the invitation, but as your hands lashed out to hook his waistband, the fasteners pulled open with a sharp snap… he stilled. Elbows on the table behind him, still leaned in a relaxed posture, but frozen in a temporary trance. You tugged the fly the rest of the way open and his heavy cock sprang free, bopping you lightly in the nose making you flinch involuntarily. 

This broke the spell as he failed to repress a snort of amusement. You narrowed your eyes at him and he composed himself as well as he could with that glint in his eye.

“Sorry, go on,”

You nipped at the head of his bobbing member making him hiss between his teeth. A hand roughly caught the back of your neck pulling you up off your knees and into his lap. 

“I believe I told you to fuck yourself, inmate,”

His free hand grabbed your hip, grinding your bare sex against his shaft for emphasis eliciting a needy groan from your chest. 

You decided to comply, tucking your feet over his thighs for leverage, you angled your torso up over him. He rested his arms back on the table once more as you balanced your hands on his shoulders. His length slid along your folds as you moved and you shivered, poised with him resting against your entrance. Rivulets of arousal trickled down his velvety skin to catch in the soft brush of pubic hair nested around its base. 

“Well, I'm waiting…”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath counting a heartbeat before opening them again. Meeting his eyes you couldn't help but think his features seemed softer from up here. 

Easing your thigh muscles down, you carefully pushed him into yourself, slowly… an inch, then withdrawing, dropping an inch further, making sure he was lubricated with you from base to tip. When he was fully docked inside you ground your hips into him, feeling his hard length pushing deep against your inner limit and you moaned in satisfaction. 

Finally, 

He was biting his lip, keeping his reactions to a minimum as you began to move on him. Desperate little hops with your hips to bounce yourself. He seemed to enjoy you doing all the work, eyes dropping to watch how your breasts bobbed in front of him. A sliver of his tongue darted across his lips but he didn't move, didn't react, as he watched you ride him, desperately using him to get your self off. 

You were frustrated, wanting it harder but knowing better than to ask for help. That wasn't what you were told to do. So you rolled your hips, bucking against him to find that bliss yourself. 

Leaning back, you put your hands on his knees, tightening your pelvis and putting more power into your hips. His calm veneer broke and he grabbed onto your hips, keeping you anchored on his shaft as climax started to cloud your vision. Your motions and breathing became erratic, taking his guiding force on your hips as permission to let go you ground against him with reckless abandon, hurtling yourself over the edge,

“F~u~...”

Your voice cut out with a strangled cry and he pulled you down on him, sheathing himself in you with an ecstatic groan as your muscles convulsed and clamped down on his shaft. 

He lifted you up, carrying you back to the bunk, plunking your ass against the mattress before pushing you over to lay on your stomach. 

Your arms were grabbed and held behind your back once more as he angled himself back into your warm cunt. His weight dropped onto your back and you were pressed flat under him. His hips started to pump into you, quick and sharp as he grew comfortable with your shape under him and he started to ramp up the force. 

A vulgar clapping of skin echoed through the room as he pounded into you, grunting from exertion as he took you hard. His free hand turned your head to look over your shoulder at him before dropping to grip your neck. 

“Do you like this, sweetheart?”

All he got for an answer was a series of sharp, high pitched gasps from the rapid snapping of his hips. 

“Getting wet for me like that…”

He groaned in his throat, grinding deeply into you making you sob in pleasure.

“You like the thought of being my cock slave?”

“Yes… kriffs sake yes…”

“That's right.”

Your breathing went ragged as he pushed himself up on his knees, pulling your waist with him. He moved his arms and hips in tandem to pump his full length in and out of you and you broke, orgasm driving your walls to slam around his thrusting rod until he couldn't take it any more himself. 

He pulled your shoulders up, arms sliding around your chest and hand cupping your jaw hooking fingers into your mouth. You were held against his chest as his cock twitched violently inside of you, a throb for every spurt of seed he shot into your warmth. 

He nuzzled into your neck breathless, tone softer than it had been,

“You were so good for me, darling… so good…”

You couldn't answer around his fingers, so you sucked them, sliding your tongue between them as he groaned. 

~~~

The last piece of his armor latched on with a click as you dried your hair, thinking about this new arrangement as you looked at the food still on the table… you weren't sure you could complain. Well you could but…

You glanced over at him, adjusting something at his wrist before he looked up, finding you fully dressed as well. 

…

…

“Alright… come on then,”

“What? C’mon where?”

He paced over to the door, tapping at the panel. 

“You’ve been released. The doors been unlocked for days,”

“Wha-”

As the realization hit you anger washed through your senses and with out thinking you grabbed the fruit from the tray, chucking it at his head. 

He caught it deftly and with a smirk in your direction, took a big bite out of the flesh, letting the juice run down his chin. 

[burningfieldof-clover]

i told you not to follow me.

Thanks for the blessing of Tori's idea over at @cloneficgiftexchange, I have made this lovely gift for my recipient @staycalmandhugaclone. The prompt and request is below:

GN!reader x Crosshair

warnings: my first time trying some whump, reader sure goes through hell. torture, angst crosshair (when is he ever not), self doubt, self depreciation, hopelessness. light at the end of the tunnel kind of ending.

wc: 1.9k

“No matter what happens,” Crosshair whispered into your ear from behind you, “don’t follow me.”

As Crosshair’s fist released the wad of your shirt behind you and stepped away, you fell to your knees with tears streaming down your face. Too stunned to speak or move, you heard him walk away. He didn’t seem to hesitate or pause, just disappeared down the halls. Gone. 

Crosshair made it very clear that you meant nothing to him. This entire time was such a chore to put up with you. The man may have been unnecessarily cold and contained but you still thought you were friends. What happened?

You glanced behind you to see if there was any sight of him, any sign that this was a dream. You found nothing. Sniffling and wiping your nose, you stumbled to your feet and got into the escape pod he left you in front of. This is bullshit, you told yourself. He’s such an asshole. 

The escape pod ejected from its housing and drifted for a few minutes. The pod managed to spin enough that your viewport gave you the opportunity to look at the Star Destroyer you had just infiltrated. You really thought that Crosshair would come back with you. After Kamino, after Crosshair admitted to having his chip removed, you thought a one-on-one interaction with him was all it would take to get him to come home.

How wrong you were.

You brought your comlink up to your mouth. Hesitation. You couldn’t call the Batch now. You left without a word. You left without a plan. 

Unbeknownst to them, you had been monitoring Imperial chatter ever since you all had left Crosshair on that platform on Kamino. You wanted Crosshair to come home so bad. Even if he didn’t want to see you, even if he didn’t give a damn about you, you wanted him to come home to his brothers. You could see how much they missed him. There was a Crosshair-shaped hole in the Bad Batch. There’s no way you could fill it. 

You lowered your arm. There’s no way they’d take you back. You stole a shuttle from the shipyard they had docked in. It was originally a quick land to refuel and restock. Instead, you stole. You followed a stupid dream and got stupid results. 

You must have taken too long to make any kind of decision. A tie fighter screamed past you and hailed your escape pod. 

“Surrender or be destroyed.”

So you surrendered. 

—-----

Imperial prisons were no joke. If it wasn’t mind-numbing meaningless and pointless wasting away in a cell, it was awful torture, making you wish you were dead. At least death would be a mercy.

You lost count of how many broken bones you’d been given. How many busted lips or blackened eyes? What did you look like? You’d forgotten. Has it been several years or a week?

Your feelings about the Bad Batch were correct. If they forgave you for leaving, they would have found you by now. They held this against you. 

The ray shield door fizzled out and two stormtroopers entered with blasters pointed at you. You were in binders and had swollen eyes and a suspected broken toe. It’s not like you could have fought back. An Imperial officer entered after them. 

“Another beautiful day, wouldn’t you agree?”

Attempting to look at him proved pointless. What little you could see was only through the slits of your swollen eyes was just shadows and motion.

“Ah, right. I guess we’ll have to lay off your face for a while so we can get your vision back.”

One of the stormtroopers pulled you to your feet by only pulling on the binders. This caused a hiss to leave your mouth as the metal pulled on your already tender wrists. 

“Well then. Let’s see if you’ll talk to us today. I’m sure you have plenty to say.” 

The stormtroopers dragged you out of the cell and down various halls. You put no effort into walking. It’s a wonder they bothered to hold you up at all. 

Before long you were in an upright interrogation bed again. The feeling of the straps around your wrists, legs, body and head was becoming too commonplace. More familiar than what you would call home. 

Footsteps approached you. “Tell me where Clone Force 99 is.”

Nothing. You couldn’t say anything. You had no idea where they were. They don’t care about you, never came for you, but you couldn’t give them up. Loyalty means everything to the clones.

An electric shock shot through your brain from both sides. A scream echoed through the room. Was that my scream? The electricity always hurts the most. It stung, it made the sides of your face numb. When the voltage is cut off, your head fell limp. The strap across your forehead bit into your skin.

Can you believe it, Crosshair? 

“How did you board the ship? What were you looking for?”

I don’t even know if I could speak if I tried.

Another electric shock to the brain. Your vision buzzed this time.

You’d be so pissed off that I couldn’t shut up, and now I can’t even find words to say.

“If you were to cooperate, the pain would end.”

Just kill me already. 

The electricity this time felt more intense, more powerful than any of the torture you’ve endured this whole time. It felt like it broke something, something in your head snapped. The pain was paralyzing. The shock to your body silenced you. 

It was silent for a while. You could hear yourself breathing, the shuffles of a few pairs of feet. No questions. No new pains. You couldn’t see anything. 

“Send in the clone,” the Imperial said angrily. “Maybe he can coax her into talking.”

More footsteps, an opening door, and then silence. 

You blinked your eyes several times. You couldn’t get them to focus. You tried to struggle against your restraints, but as always, you couldn’t escape. Your mind kept begging for relief. Why won’t they just kill me already? 

The door opened and slid closed. This time only one person entered, based on the step patterns. You waited for a question. You waited for some new pain.

The footsteps stopped right before you. You still couldn’t focus your vision. Tears started falling in a silent plea.

A sigh. “I told you not to follow me.”

Crosshair? 

“Why didn’t the others come for you?”

You choked out a sob. “Cross… hair?” Your voice was raspy. The only sounds it made anymore were screams, so your words sounded foreign to you.

He undid the strap that pinned your head in place. His hand grabbed your chin and tilted your head to look right at him. He looked into your eyes, so dead and void. Your pupils were blown wide and searching for something to lock onto. “Say something!”

“Cross, I can’t…”

“You can’t what?”

The sobs were heavy and shook your whole body. “I can’t… I can’t see.”

Crosshair stared at you with his jaw slightly dropped. “Quit bluffing. You’re fine.”

You moved your head as much as you could. “I can’t see.” Saying it again made it sink in. The thing that broke, the thing that severed… it was your optic nerves.

“Look at me!” Crosshair barked. 

You knew what direction his voice was coming from, and even though you moved your eyes to point at him, there was nothing. 

Crosshair’s hand slipped away from your chin and he stumbled back a few steps in disbelief. 

The sound of your crying was the only thing you could hear. Crosshair was silent. Still. You don’t know how much time has passed, but the feeling of your restraints being undone jolted you. You fell into Crosshair’s arms. 

Having not been touched for so long added to the shock factor. Crosshair held you against him tightly. His hand propped up the back of your head against his chest. You heard his breath stutter. 

“I told you… I told you not to follow me for a reason. I didn’t think you’d be so unbelievably stupid. You stupid, stupid girl.”

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry Cross. I didn’t mean to.”

He scoffed and leaned back. He brushed hair out of your face and stared at you, still unable to connect with your eyes. 

“Let’s get out of here.”

Crosshair hoisted you onto his back and drew his blaster from his hip. You held on tight. There was nothing you could do or say. You trusted him to get you out of there or you would die trying. Hope was slowly seeping into your veins. It was slowly reviving your faith. It was reminding you of what it felt like to be alive.

Although you couldn’t see, you could hear the opposition. Having you on his back didn’t seem to slow him down. You remembered what Crosshair looked like when he was focused and determined. Fighting separatist droids, cleaning his rifle, arguing with his brothers… 

“Hanging in there?” Crosshair threw over his shoulder at you. 

A small sound came from your throat. It was the best you could do. 

Before long you could feel the atmosphere open up into a large room. Is this the hanger? Blaster bullets shot through the air, some even close to you. Crosshair didn’t let anything touch you. He fought his way through the hanger and onto some kind of ship. He set you down in a crash seat and secured you with a harness. You could hear bullets hit the outside of the ship, some heavier artillery occasionally blasting into it. 

The ship was starting up. Being unable to see made you hear and feel things a little more differently. Right now you were trying to imagine what Crosshair looks like trying to pilot a ship. It’s always been Tech. You’d never get to see it. You’d never get to see him.

It was rough flying. However far away Crosshair was, he was working hard on getting the both of you free. The ship eventually entered hyperspace.

You still hadn’t moved. Your hands were gripped onto the safety harness. Your body felt frail in the seat. 

Crosshair’s presence announced itself with his walk. 

“Can you hear me?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

He sneered. “Why did you come back?”

For a moment, you didn’t say anything. “I never left.”

Crosshair was angry. He worked so hard to get you a clean getaway from the Star Destroyer. And your dumb ass didn’t listen?

He unlocked the harness and lifted it over you. Your hands reached for some kind of stability and found it on Crosshair’s shoulders. He was kneeling before you.

“Can you… can you see anything?”

You tried moving your eyes around to hopefully, beggingfully see something. … Nothing. “No,” you whispered. 

Crosshair sighed out a breath that sounded like it fully deflated him. “Come here.”

You moved your head in a way that asked him what he meant. He then grabbed your hands and led you to the ground to sit. He maneuvered you to then sit between his legs. He hugged your back to his chest and held you tightly. You brought your knees up. One of his hands rested on your knee now. He adjusted himself just right to get comfortable and to also be able to hold you together the best he can.

“What are you doing, Crosshair?” you asked him with a little of a defeated tone.

He didn’t answer.

“Did you save me because you felt obligated to?”

Again, he didn’t answer.

Your head drifted around a bit. “Why–”

“Just shut up,” he said. 

You held your breath for a moment, then finally relaxed your tensed up body into him. For once, you listened to him and shut up. 

He let out a heavy sigh, and briefly increased his grip as a hug. “Let’s go home.”

[llwritess]

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

crosshair/reader angst & tension playlist

real quick…

[bbgoffic]

Not the hubs offended my hunterXreader one shot has more hits than my crosshairXreader one shot

Lol

What are you?

[rebekadjarin]

I just wrote a scene where reader has a bad dream and Crosshair comforts her and I'm so soft, he's so sweet and calming and reader is listening to his heartbeat to fall asleep🥺

[tovethewaywardjedi]

Even if it Kills Me: A Bad Batch Fan Fiction

[Hey! So this is a bit of the first chapter in a multi-part series I’m working on at the moment revolving around the events of the Clone Wars and the original Star Wars trilogy. This story follows my original character named Tove. Tove is a force sensitive girl who’s been with the boys since their cadet days. Her story starts just after Crosshair and his new troops eliminate the “insurgents” Grand Admiral Tarkin ordered CF 99 to in EP 1. I hope you all enjoy this snippet! The rest can be found on Ao3.] 

He kissed me heatedly. His arms circled my neck and entangled themselves in my hair while I stroked his back and shoulders. “I missed you today.” He murmured, kissing down my neck in slow, sensual motions. “Really?” Was all I could think to say. At the moment he was sucking on my sweet spot, which was just below my collarbone. “Mmhmm.” Crosshair replied, picking me up bridal style to carry me over to our couch. “Was it that bad today, riduur?” I said as he moved to place a searing, open mouthed kiss directly on my chest. He said nothing for a long moment; breathing me in. I decided tonight wouldn’t be the night he vented, so instead I set to wordlessly soothing him. I rubbed his head, knees weakening at the occasional love bites he left along my sternum and breasts.  “Crosshair…” I gasped. “I’m sorry, mesh’la. I’m just-I.” My husband sighed, adjusting me so that my head rested on his shoulder. I gladly welcomed his warmth. Burning flesh, dirt, ship exhaust, and leather swarmed my senses, along with a vivid vision of unarmed people being ruthlessly shot down by a group of troopers clad in black. The vision evaporated before the event finished, but I’d gathered enough evidence to know my Crosshair had been subjected to do something barbaric. “Ohhh my sweet...my cyar…!” I cupped his face with my hands, looking into his weary eyes. He turned away in shame. “You did not mean it!” I whispered, kissing his cheek. “Mesh’la..” He pleaded thickly. “We both know you had no choice-.” “They were insurgents to the Empire.” He argued, but angry tears threatened to fall anyway. I shook my head. “Yes. They were.” He stood and began walking to the fresher. “They were civilians! Unarmed!” I exclaimed. A squeal of fear leapt out of me when he whirled around to jab a finger at me. “Followers of the Republic who are no longer in power!” I shuffled away, biting my lip to keep from crying. “Tove.” Crosshair cooed, taking me into his arms. I sobbed freely into his chest despite understanding he never intended to be mean. “Let’s forget this...cyar'ika, and go to bed.” I agreed. “Of course, kair’ta. Of course.” A tired smile graced his lips. He pressed a chaste kiss to my forehead and lips before picking me up the same way he did earlier. I didn’t care he hadn’t changed out of his blacks or showered. At this moment I just wanted to be there for him. Tonight, I curled him close to me; tucked his head against my heart and held him tightly. I would protect him fiercely. I would do whatever it took. Even if it killed me.

[emperor-palpaminty]

fic recommendation!! (from ao3)

hey!!! i saw that you wanted some fic recs so i decided to drop in and share my current favorite bad batch fic and my favorite crosshairxreader fic if you like that too :)

Bad Batch modern family AU by MinnieTheMoocherDA: “Sins of the Past” Author’s summary: A collection of drabbles set in my modern au where the Bad Batch raise Omega after rescuing her from the abusive hands of their mother. i highly recommended reading it

CrosshairxReader fic by NotAKyber **SMUT**: "Out of Everyone in the Galaxy" Author's summary: It was no secret that you hated Crosshair. So when you were forced to act as a married couple for a mission, you weren't sure who would kill you first: the Separatist or the infamous sniper.

But the galaxy has a funny way of making you both realize that your hatred might be something more. super super funny enemies to lovers fic

i hope you like them!!

[zoralux]

I'm salty because all the CrosshairxReader fics I see are some shade of "I Can Fix Him" Fluff.

Fuck all that, I wanna see some B L O O D.

[lunamour]

Que bonito post, ojalá hubiera una continuación 😭🤍

#crosshairxreader

Consider: Crosshair falling for a Princess that he’s been assigned to guard…

2.5k words. Female reader. SFW. Just some headcanons that I went a little overboard with hehe.

We can all agree that Crosshair would not be happy about being put on guard duty, let alone for royalty. Ugh, the word makes him sick. Royalty.

You’re so special, and for what? Because you were born into an important family? Phfft, family isn’t everything.

And to make things worse, he’s been put on this mission alone. Crosshair has been assigned to guard you until your new personal guard has been trained up for the job, which takes a couple of months. The Republic doesn’t go down the cheap route when it comes to such an essential task, which is why they assigned a Special Operations clone for the job.

Seguir leyendo

[burningfieldof-clover]

i couldn't do anything -

S2E12 SPOILERS

crosshair x gn!reader (reader is slightly jedi)

warnings: this is sad. kind of not happy ending, but it is an open ending that is going to lead to a part 2 as i figure out what is happening with the canon plot (then alter to my liking mwahahaha)

indented italic font is memory. bold faced text is present.

When that damned Lieutenant Asshole sent Mayday and Crosshair off, you weren’t too worried. Mayday has held this outpost together for over a year, and Crosshair was a previous member of Clone Force 99. It will be a walk in the park. 

Or so you thought.

The next day when a commotion started on the edge of the base, it caught your attention instantly. Are we under attack again? Assuming the worst, you grabbed your first aide kit and followed the rush of soldiers. 

After assessing the situation and finding that there was no attack, but instead it was the return of the two clones who were sent out, your run picked up pace. 

So many memories attacked your mind. 

The Republic had fallen, and the Empire has risen. You had finally spent your last credit getting to Coruscant. You worked hard while living hand to mouth on the streets of some backwater planet you can’t wait to forget the name of. You came to Coruscant to speak with the Jedi. You had powers that sounded like what the Jedi called the Force, so you wanted a mentor. 

The riots in the streets (being excitement or resentment) were starting just a few steps out of the spaceport. An Imperial-dressed clone trooper stopped you before you could walk through the turnstile. 

“What’s your business on Coruscant?” His tone startled you. 

“I uh–” panicking to find an answer, you mimicked a quiet voice you quickly overheard. “I’m here to enlist in the army.” Inwardly you were already punching yourself.

The clone raised an eyebrow. “You? Enlist?” he asked sarcastically. He gave you a glance up and down. “Okay, then. Not my place to judge, but be prepared,” he said with a condescending tone. He fumbled with a holopad in his hands. “Do you have a chain code yet?”

After going through the process of getting a chain code with your actual identity and instructions on where to go, you fell in line. You’d find a Jedi somehow, right?

Mayday looked like he was in rough shape. You’d have to tend to him first.

“Send a medic! We need help!”

You started to sprint to the call for help in the field, but the Imperial officer leading the mission held his arm out to prevent you from going to the cry. 

“Don’t bother. They’re just clones. Worry about the actual soldiers, not the cannon fodder.”

Heartbroken, tears forming in your eyes behind your helmet, you stayed put. After learning about the terrible fate of the Jedi, any kind of heroics were frightening to you. You hadn’t tried to use any Force abilities. You had no idea what any true Force abilities were. Despite the Empire knowing your real name, no one really knew who you were. 

Crosshair pushed past you, his shoulder shoving into yours. “They’re the ones that don’t matter. Then there are the ones who do.”

Even though he was wearing his own helmet, you could feel his piercing stare dive right through his visor, judging you for even caring about the regs. 

Mayday had fallen to his knees, Crosshair with him. You could barely hear Crosshair ask for help with Mayday. 

“Yeah, I guess the Jedi were good people. We served alongside them for the whole war. I don’t know what happened to make them turn on the chancellor.”

You listened to the clones in your medical wing just chatting away. 

“I'm not sure, some part of me finds it impossible to believe it, you know?” This clone rubbed his head sheepishly. “I mean, my general, he was a good man. I watched my brother shoot him down when we got the order.”

Crosshair was in the company of these clones as well. You were checking his shoulder for injury after a way too powerful kickback of his rifle. He grumbled.

“At least one of them knew how to follow orders.”

“Chill out, Cross,” you chided. You were lifting his arm up and pushing it in different directions and judging his reactions. “What’s your opinion? Why is his opinion any less valid than yours?”

With a glare and pursed lips, he pulled his signature toothpick out of his mouth. “Good soldiers follow orders.”

You scoffed. “That’s all I ever hear you say. ‘Good soldiers follow orders, good soldiers follow orders.’ It’s like you were programmed to say that.”

Crosshair turned his head away. He was not in the mood to justify his actions. 

You rotated his arm one last way and earned a hiss from him. 

“Theeeerrre it is. There’s the pain. You need to rest this. I don’t trust you to take some muscle relaxers on your own, so,” you reached to the tray nearby and grabbed a little cup, “I need you to take them now and then you can go. 

He looked at the small pills in the container, then to you. He grabbed them and downed them without a drink. 

“Let me know if it doesn’t get any better in a few days.”

Crosshair grunted. His eyes traveled to the divider that split this area from the other rooms and clones. He was still listening to the men talk.

“You weren’t there,” he said quietly. 

“Hm? Was that aimed at me?”

“You weren’t there,” he repeated. “So even if you heard my opinion, you couldn’t believe me.”

You crossed your arms and almost felt sorry for him. “I’m still interested. I know how you look when the empire tries to deem you expendable.” You shrugged and put your hands on your hips. “You’re all human to me. Each of you matter.”

He seemed interested in your words, but the curiosity ended abruptly. He left without a word. 

“They don’t need medical attention!” the Lieutenant barked. 

Everything you learned about Jedi and what they used to be was all from bits and pieces you’d catch in conversations. Some clones had a fond memory or two. 

After learning about meditation, you gave it a try. Since you actually didn’t know how that worked, you probably tried a little too hard. It wasn’t working. After a couple weeks, you were able to sense feelings in people. Sometimes the emotions were colors or they simply bled onto you and engulfed you with the feeling. It could be overwhelming.

A loud pounding was heard from the frame of your office door. “CT-9904 has been recovered. Clear him for service or decommission him.”

Blinking in awe and watching the officer walk away, you couldn’t believe how many times that a clone was recommended for “decommissioning,” it always hurt more than the last time.

CT-9904… that was… Crosshair! Excitedly you jumped up and ran to the clinic. You could see him again! He’d been missing for over a month! You prayed that he was okay. 

The Force was reaching for him. You wanted to know how he was doing before you saw him. The anticipation was too much. That jerk of a clone was refreshing. 

In return, the Force gave you signals of a life in despair, mentally and physically. Crosshair was in so much pain. 

Skidding to a halt before the door leading to him, you couldn’t hide the shock and surprise. He was weak and frail. His Force signature was faded from it's usual vibrance.  

“You…?”

You rushed to his side and instantly started checking vitals and fluids. A laugh escaped your lips. “What the hell, Cross? I thought you were invincible!”

Crosshair turned his head away to keep you out of his line of sight. “Put me back into service. I don’t need to be here.”

“Shut up, Crosshair.”

You got to work. You were ordering tests and scans, medications and nutritions. At one point you passed a cabinet which held something very important. It was something you placed in there for special occasions. Which didn’t seem all that special when you count the numerous times Crosshair had been in the clinic. He came by even when he was not injured. He told you it was because you were ‘the least irritating person but not immune to causing irritation.’

You opened the cabinet and retrieved the item. 

“Hey, Cross.”

He glanced your way without moving his body. 

You flicked a toothpick his way. He caught it with a single hand. He stared at it briefly before pinching it between his teeth harshly. 

You eventually cleared him to return to service.

You grit your teeth together in frustration. The Force in Mayday was flickering, fading. 

“Lieutenant, he’s dying!” you cried.

Lieutenant Nolan turned his angry snarl towards you. “I gave you an order! Stand down. Let these expendables expire!”

Crosshair spoke your name as he entered your office. 

Your sleepy figure looked at the tall twig of a man. “What’s going on? Are you injured?”

He didn’t acknowledge your questions. “You’re assigned to my mission. I’m here to tell you we’re leaving for Barton-4 in the morning.”

Crosshair’s Force signature was different. His smug aura was instead calm. He held some hesitation in the background. Since you didn’t say anything, he turned around to leave.

“What are you not telling me?” you asked him.

He froze in his movement. He grinded the toothpick in his mouth and pushed it to the other side. “You’re the only medic I trust. I requested you for this mission.”

You nodded, accepting this confession. He was telling the truth. “Okay. I’ll meet you in the hangar tomorrow.”

He nodded and faced the doorway. He was quiet for a while. “Do you… remember when you asked for my opinion?”

Blanking for a minute, you weren’t sure what he was referring to. 

“I worked with a few Jedi. They were alright, I guess.”

You hesitated. Does he know what you are? 

He grimaced and turned to fully face you. “I finally give you what you wanted, and you ignore me?!”

Not meaning to, you laughed. It was a hearty, full belly laugh. 

Crosshair didn’t know what you were doing. Were you mocking him? What the hell was so funny?

“I’m so sorry!” you exclaimed while out of breath. A few chuckles were coming out. “It’s just, I never expected you to–to be open with me. That felt really special.”

Crosshair threw his toothpick at you and left.

Mayday faded away. His life Force had gone. You felt it flow through you and away like it had used you as a doorway or passage to return to the living Force itself. 

So many emotions were reeling on Crosshair’s face, and his aura was violent. The emotions he was projecting through the Force were suffocating you. 

In the shuttle on the way to Barton-4, you sat next to Crosshair since he was the only thing you were familiar with. It had been a long time since you were sent away from Coruscant. The empire made you discard your old armor. It may not have been that old, but they also stripped you of your field clearance so you didn't need it anymore. The new armor was foreign and didn't feel right at all. How did Crosshair get this approved?

Crosshair had his helmet on and was strapped into a harness, so you couldn’t read his expressions you’ve gotten to know. His hands were resting at his sides. He tapped on the side of his helmet. 

“Everything is going to be fine.” He was speaking directly to your private comm channel in your helmet. 

You turned your head his way slightly, just enough to catch him in your peripherals. You pressed the same button on your helmet to return the connection. 

“I don’t believe you.” You meant to sound snarky but it came out afraid. 

Crosshair glanced down at you suddenly. Your helmet turned fully his way now. You knew he was asking for clarification. You couldn’t give him one, though. How do you explain to him that you have a bad feeling about this?

“You… you could have saved him,” Crosshair forced out.

The Force never felt so strong in you as it did now. Failing to move away from the situation you had fallen to your knees. You lifted your helmet off your head and dropped it on the ground as you watched Crosshair like a hawk.

Still stuck in this staring contest. The sound of the engines was significantly noisy. The Lieutenant was scrolling on his holopad, the tapping of his fingers sounding like a metronome. Are the minutes being counted down? Is this it? Did someone catch on to your connection to the force? Does Crosshair know? Wait--no, it isn't about you--

“I’m scared,” you whispered. 

Crosshair’s gloved hand brushed against your leg briefly. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.”

“Quit being so cryptic.”

“Cross, I’m not the one in danger.”

“Crosshair!!” you screamed out. 

“How could you possibly know that?”

The Lieutenant called for your silence again.

“I…”

Your fists clench against the cold ground.

Crosshair grumbled. “Do you have something to say?”

The Force began rumbling beneath your hands. The very scattered and small total of pebbles rattled against the concrete. You were begging the Force to prevent anything terrible from happening to Crosshair.

You could tell him… right? He’d protect you, right? 

“Spit it out!”

Crosshair witnessed the anomaly happening around you with wide eyes. After hearing what the Lieutenant had to say about his feelings on clones… Crosshair couldn’t let the Lieutenant see you. The monster of a man would treat you the same. 

“Lieutenant!”

“I can’t lose you, too.”

An echoing blaster shot went straight into Lieutenant Nolan’s chest. The shock of the event cut your tie to the Force. Crosshair saw the air around you settle, but he didn’t know what to do about the action he just committed. 

“Drop your weapon! Don’t move!”

Troopers rushed Crosshair with blasters raised. You wanted to run to his aid. Crosshair was injured as well. You went to stand, but a trooper’s hand pushed you back down to your knees. The whole time you have been with the Imperial army, you told yourself–no heroics. You can’t stand out. You’d be in danger.

“Crosshair!!!”

You fought the hold on you and rushed toward Crosshair. You needed to protect him. You had to heal him. You needed to fight for him!

Your hand was outstretched and reaching for him. The expression on his face flickered through many expressions. He reached for you, too. He looked hopeful, but the last thing you saw on his face was horror.

You suddenly collapsed to the ground, feeling paralyzed. They hit you with a stun?

Crosshair reached for your body. He almost grabbed your hand, but the troopers wrestled him away. You lost consciousness before you could see the outcome of Crosshair’s fate.

–part 2 maybe after finding out what happens to crosshair idk ily bye 

taglist: @ilovestarwarsmen725 @l-lend @arctrooper69 @nekotaetae @roguethe0tter @the-clone-zone