Okay I’m Currently Furious That Migraines Are Often So Blindly Easy To Treat And I Had To Find This

Bad Batch x One Bed Trope

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

Notes: This is Gender Neutral friendly!

Hunter

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do you think the others are okay?" 

"They should be fine."

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

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

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

“Always.”

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

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

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

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

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

Wrecker

"Oh, this could be fun!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Something fun." 

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

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

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

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

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

Tech

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why would I?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His holo pad was squished between the two of you. 

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

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

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

Echo

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Echo shook his head no. 

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

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

Crosshair

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Been around more than you have.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

@superiorsniper would you buy this beauty just to piss of someone?

You Had One Job.

Crosshair x F!Wife!Reader

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Established Relationship, Dry/Rude Humor, Mentions of Blood

Summary: When Crosshair risked his life to send his brothers and wife a message, he expected them to heed his warnings. He should have known that his family never does things the way they're supposed to.

A/N: You know when you can never find a fanfic with your specific idea in mind so you write it yourself? That's what this is. This is purely self indulgent, and I'm not apologizing. Happy reading!

"Keep moving, traitor!" The trooper shouted from behind her, and pushed his blaster to her back for good measure.

"Wasn't planning on stopping, asshole." She mumbled to herself. The corridor was dark. The only real source of illumination was the blood-red ray shields containing what must have been hundreds of clone troopers. How could they do this to the men that fought for them so valiantly, not even a year prior? It disgusted her that the Empire was willing to treat its own soldiers this way.

"Stop here." One of the troopers finally barked. She stopped and turned towards the ray shield, but the cell was different than the others. It looked almost like an office. In the center of the room, a man leaned on the desk with a pleased smirk on his face. As the ray shield lifted and she was shoved in the room, she analyzed his face. He had a chiseled jawline, cold blue eyes, and slicked back hair as dark as his aura.

"Ah, the legendary Mrs. (Y/N) (L/N). How wonderful to finally meet you." He smiled. His voice was just as eerily calm as the look in his eyes. She couldn't quite place his intentions.

"Dr. Hemlock, I presume?" She asked.

He let out a slight chuckle. "I am surprised you know that. Very few do."

"Wasn't easy to find out. I actually came here to kill you, but your troopers here took my weapons." The doctor circled her menacingly, as if he was analyzing her.

Hemlock released the handcuffs strangling her wrists and motioned for her to sit. "I'm sorry they ruined your plans. But you and I both know you don't need a weapon to kill me. You could do it right now if you wanted to." As she sat tentatively, he sat on the chair opposite her side of the desk. "And it's getting ever more tempting by the moment, I bet." He teased. She forced herself to appear relaxed, but something about this man felt off.

"I have more self-restraint than that, Doctor."

"Clearly you don't have as much as you think."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Gladly." Hemlock placed a recorder before her and pressed the button.

Plan 88. They're after Om-

Plan 88. They're after Om-

Plan 88. They're after Om-

Hemlock let the transmission play a few times, allowing her husbands plea to mock her. He took pleasure in the way she became visibly uncomfortable at the sound of her husbands voice.

"I understand. It must have been hard when he abandoned you." If looks could kill, Hemlock would have been slowly crushed under the weight of a tank.

"You don't know him." She hissed. He nodded his head regretfully.

"Correct. Which is what I'm hoping you can help me with." Hemlock stood behind her and bent down so he spoke directly into her ear. "How do I get him to talk?"

"Did you try saying 'please'?" She said sarcastically.

The doctor released a heavy sigh and stood tall again. "I like you, Mrs. (L/N). You're quite funny. But humor and a pretty face will not help you here."

Despite the threat behind his words, she couldn't help but snort. "You really think I'm pretty?" This time, the Doctor did not laugh. He turned to face her again and grabbed her chin, harshly forcing her to look at him.

"Not for long." He said calmly. As he drew his hand away, the woman saw an opportunity. As hard as she could, she bit the Doctor's finger and refused to let go. His yelp of pain alerted the troopers standing guard outside the room. It took both of them to pull her teeth from his finger.

As Hemlock cradled his bleeding hand, she spat his blood and skin from her mouth with a red-stained grin. "Go fuck yourself, Doctor." The last thing she remembered was a harsh force to the back of her head, and falling to the ground.

-

Growing up, Crosshair believed there were two kinds of soldiers: brave, or stupid. Then he met his wife and learned there was a third option: ballsy. He never considered himself one to shy away from a fight, but he'd never met a woman as daring as her. That was once a trait he admired. Hell, it may even be the one that made him fall in love with her. But now, as he watched his wife's unconscious body be thrown into his prison cell, covered in the blood of a fight she undoubtedly started, he wished dearly that she was a coward.

He forced himself to stay seated on the ground until the troopers left. The moment the ray-shield reactivated, he crawled to her awakening body and held her close.

"(Y/N)? Can you hear me?" He cradled her head in his lap like she was made of glass and delicately brushed her tangled hair from her face. "Wake up, you di'kuit!" He inspected the blood seeping from her mouth, and couldn't help the proud feeling was over him as he realized it wasn't hers.

"Crosshair?" She croaked weakly. She felt like she was dreaming. After a year of being away from him, she finally lay cradled in his arms.

Upon hearing her voice, He helped her sit up and began inspecting her body for injuries. "Are you hurt?" He asked. She had never heard him speak with such concern. Sure, he'd been worried for her before. That was only natural in their line of work. But this wasn't worry. This was genuine fear.

"I'm okay," she assured him. "I'm okay." Her words calmed him. However, as his adrenaline wore off, the realization set in

"What the fuck are you doing here?!" He whispered loudly.

Well at least now she could be sure it wasn't a dream. That was definitely her Cross.

Like a child, she swatted his hands away from her face and pouted. “I was trying to save you!”

He looked around the cell, and back at her. “Well, you've done a great job, mesh’la.” He leaned back from his squatting position and sat against the wall opposite her. They stared at each other in tense silence for a moment. "You turned yourself in?"

"Please, you think these new 'stormtroopers' could bring me in by themselves?" His face expressed that he was clearly not pleased with his lovers actions.

"Could you explain to me how 'plan 88' translates to 'turn yourself in to the empire'?" He deadpanned.

She snorts. "Oh please, a warning is just a dangerous challenge."

Her carelessness did little to relieve his frustration. "Dammit, (Y/N) you had one job!" He snapped. Feeling his anger begin to take over, he took a deep breath and pinched the top of his nose. "I told you to run."

"And I told you to stay, so I guess know we're even." She rebutted bitterly. She didn't mean to say it, but the way that he reprimanded her like a child enraged her.

Her spiteful response surprised him. He went silent in shame. He never meant for any of this to happen. He wanted so desperately to go back in time. To stand in front of her on that Kaminoan platform one more time and hold her close. To tell her that he would never leave her side again. But unlike his lover, time was not so forgiving. "I'm sorry." He whispered so quietly she barely heard him.

She regretted her words as soon as she saw him shrink like a wounded dog. With a sigh, she scooted across the room until she was sitting next to him. "I really missed you." She said quietly. He looked up at her beautiful warm eyes with his own and practically melted. She cautiously rested her head on his shoulders and relished in the familiar feeling. For the first time a very long time, he allowed a tear to fall from his eyes. He couldn't bring himself to look down at her. Instead he opted to stare at the ceiling in hopes that gravity would keep his tears at bay. He didn't deserve this. Her forgiveness. He hurt her badly, and somehow she was able to act like nothing had happened. Why was she so good to him? Hesitantly, he leaned into her warmth and placed his hand over hers. When she didn't recoil, he felt a wave of emotions overcome him.

"I'm so sorry." He said quietly. "You deserve better."

She lifted her head from his shoulder and smiled up at him. "You are better." She responded.

He was sure he had never been more in love with her.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked.

Instead of responding, she gently held his face in her hands and pressed her lips to his. It wasn't like their kisses used to be - passionate and hungry. This time, his lips slowly and tenderly molded into hers with nothing but pure love. With every second that went on, his body and mind relaxed more and more. He could taste the dried blood from her mouth, but even that didn't bother him.

Suddenly, a familiar imperial alarm began sounding off, followed by emergency lights flashing. The desire in his eyes faded, and confusion took it's place. His wife, however, looked completely unfazed.

"What did you do?" He asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"Remember that digestible tracker Tech was always working on?"

"Please tell me you didn't swallow a tracker."

"He made it meiloorun flavored!" She smiled.

As if on cue, the ray shield to their cell disappeared. "They boys are right on schedule." She stood and offered him a hand to do the same. While he struggled to regain his balance, her grip on his hand remained. "Welcome back to Clone Force 99, my love."

He gawked in amazement at his wife. This woman had been tortured, abandoned, betrayed and humiliated by him. And yet here she stood, after breaking into a top secret imperial base, with her hand extended and a still-bloody smile on her face. (Where that blood came from, he still wasn't sure.) If he could marry her twice he would. "Fuck, I love you so much." He exhaled as he wrapped himself in her embrace and felt relief for the first time in a long time.

may i please request bondage smut with crosshair?

Of course you can 👀 I hope you like this 🙏

Celebration

Summary: It's late in the evening and Crosshair comes home to see you after another successful mission. And Crosshair only celebrate in one way.

Warnings: Smut, Bondage, Oral sex, Unprotected Sex, Rough Sex, a little bit of fluff.

"Take off your clothes."

Biting down on your lip, you started undressing for him, piece by piece of your clothing falling to the floor until you stood naked before him. Crosshair's eyes roamed your body, and you couldn't help the heat spreading across your face. No matter how often he had seen you naked, he always made you feel like it was the first time.

"Lay down on the bed," he ordered, his voice heavy with lust.

Obeying his order, you made yourself comfortable on the bed. You watched with bated breaths as he opened the nightstand, took out the silk ribbon hidden there and bound your hands together above your head. Your heart pounded in your chest as Crosshair smirked up at you as he placed himself between your legs. Then, you gasped, feeling the pad of his fingers between your thighs, probing your folds apart.

Crosshair took two fingers, spreading your pussy lips open, eyes darkening at the sight of your slick folds.

"Kriff, your pussy is perfect," you heard him mumble and moaned when you felt his tongue flick across your clit.

Crosshair sucked your clit hard between his lips before he slid his tongue down between your butt cheeks and back up, lapping up every drop of your juices along the way. You moaned, face flushed with arousal and embarrassment at how absolutely filthy he was.

"You taste so good," Crosshair breathed and lowered his head again, immediately pushing his tongue inside your pussy as he buried his face between your legs. Moaning, you bucked your hips against his face as you watched him between your thighs.

Crosshair massaged each side of your clit with his tongue, before sucking it hard between his lips and pushing his fingers deeper inside of you. Your pussy was so soaked, there was zero resistance and you eagerly swallowed his fingers. Crosshair pounded them deep and hard inside of you, pushing on your G-spot. Your hips lifted off the bed on their own, as you ground your pussy hard against his face. You felt your orgasm building, getting stronger and stronger.

"You're gonna make me come...," you gasped. "Please don't stop."

Crosshair growled against your pussy after hearing you, and while never letting his lips lose grip on your clit, he started finger fucking you as hard as he could. Each thrust sent a jolt through your body, causing your thighs to quiver and your core to clench.

"Oh maker, I'm gonna come!"

You felt the heat rise inside you, your breathing heavy and fast as you tugged on the restraints, yearning to grab and hold his head in place. You felt your body tense up, and before you knew it, you were completely lost.

"I'm coming!" You felt your entire body shake as you completely drenched his hand and face. Crosshair didn't stop until he felt your body go limp. Swiftly, he removed his fingers and replaced them with his cock. Your eyes flew open in surprise, both at the sudden intrusion and that he'd managed to open his pants so quickly. Crosshair looked down at you with a stern face, his jaw clenching as he grabbed your ankles and spread your legs wide as he started pounding into you.

"Fuck!" you cried out, earning a small smirk from the clone. He was relentless, showing the strength of his stamina as he kept thrusting into you at a rapid pace.

"Are you going to come for me again?" he rasped through his thrusts.

"Y-Yes," you gasped out between moans, arching your back as pleasure rose in your core and you tugged on your restraints once more.

"Then come for me, darling. Come now."

His words combined with the deep and hard thrusts of his cock were enough for you to spiral over the edge. You cried out, your legs started shaking in his grip, your hips rising against him as your pussy tightened and spasmed around his cock.

Crosshair grunted at the feeling of your clenching pussy and he came, thrusting into you as he filled you up with his seed.

Crosshair watched with pride as an exhausted and satisfied smile spread across your lips. To think that he, of all people, could make you feel so good. As he slipped out of you, he tucked himself back inside his pants and untied your wrist.

"You okay?" he asked, watching your face as you lay there with closed eyes.

"Mmhhmm," you mumbled tiredly. Opening your eyes, you smiled and reached out your hand to him. "Please, stay with me tonight."

Clenching his jaw, Crosshair seemed to discuss with himself what to do before he finally started taking off his armor. What was the harm in staying here with you for one night?

Dressed in only his underwear, you watched as Crosshair crawled into the bed with you and smiled as you snuggled up against his chest.

Crosshair tensed as you wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed your body against his. He looked down at you, watching the content expression on your face as you closed your eyes and nestled closer to him, and felt himself soften. Slipping his arm around you, he placed his hand on the soft skin of your hip and allowed himself to close his eyes and relax in the warm embrace of your body.

I believe in Crossdad supremacy

sweetheart, i will ruin you (2/4)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then you had the idea.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, beautiful,” he says.

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

“What brings you here?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nice to meet you, Mira. Name’s Kix.”

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

“I’m a medic. 501st.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you up for it, then?”

“That depends. What’s in it for me?”

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

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

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

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

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

“That him?” Kix asks.

“Yeah,” you say.

“Crosshair, eh? Oh, I know him. He’s an ass.” Kix stands, offers his hand, which you take and rise.

“Don’t worry, we’ll make him jealous,” he says before dipping you down and kissing you right in Crosshair’s line of sight. The kiss turns hot as he cups your face with his free hand and pushes against you just a little bit more, and you feel your body twinge with a familiar yearn. One of your hands massage the back of his neck, and Kix lets out a murmur of relaxation. Kix iswarm and smells like spiced berries; you wonder if his skin tasted as sweet as it smelled.

When you pull away from Kix, he smiles. “How was that?” he huffs into your cheek.

“Pretty good,” you smile. Placing a finger on his armor, you whisper, “But I like it better when I’m in control. How’d you like to be bossed around?”

It was the first time you caught Kix off guard. His eyes widen, but soon the suave soldier was back. “Like I said, anything for a night with you.” His grip on your waist tightened. “But…I’d like that. Ma’am.” Kix calling you “Ma’am” sent liquid heat through your body, but you kept your composure. Crosshair was far out of your mind now, your only thoughts being how you were going to completely destroy this man.

“Good. Keep calling me that,” you say as you lead Kix to the back of the bar. You push him against the wall, not dissimilar to the position you were in last night - but you aren’t going to leave Kix hanging. Your lips skim his neck and he lets out a soft moan, a sound that sends chills across your skin and lights fire in your chest.

“Such a good sound,” you encourage.

“All for you, ma’am,” he breathes, and you nearly moan at how disheveled he already sounded. You kiss him, body sinking into his, and you could tell he was getting hard. The kiss was slow but passionate, lips moving slowly.

“I can’t wait to unravel you,” you say, and his hips slightly buck against you. You raise an eyebrow.

“Sorry- can’t help it -I’ve got a beautiful woman nearly on top of me,” he huffs, still the wisecracker. Obviously, he was thinking too straight, and you needed to fix that. You laugh, push into his body, harder, and he groans as the heat between your legs gets some delicious pressure. Your hands roam his torso, and stars, you couldn’t wait to get him out of his armor. You weren’t that debauched that you were going to fuck him in the middle of the bar - though, it would certainly make things easier than traveling back to your apartment. Sigh.

You kiss Kix tenderly but passionately, and you are so pushed up against him that he wraps his legs around you, remaining glued to the wall. Your hands clutch underneath his thighs, and even with the armor on, you can tell they were strong, muscles taut. Even though this was purely physical, you can still sense an undercurrent of tenderness between the two of you that was absent from your tryst with Crosshair. That maybe, you want with Crosshair.

You try to shoo the image of Crosshair out of your mind, but the thought of treating Crosshair like this, kissing him deeply and affectionately, making such a stoic man a whimpering puddle - it makes you kiss Kix harder. Crosshair, his hands in your hair and moaning in your mouth, him yielding his body over to you. You know Crosshair is watching you now, you can nearly feel his gaze burning through your back, and you wonder if he wished he was in Kix’s place.

Kix. Remember this was with Kix.

Maybe getting out of the club- out of Crosshair’s gaze -was the solution.

“Want to get out of here, head back to my place?” you whisper into Kix’s ear.

“Thought you’d never ask,” he says.

As you pull Kix out of the club, you make brief eye contact with Crosshair. His expression is unreadable, but if you had to guess, it’s somewhere between stunned and pissed off. You hope that he was pissed - jealous, even - though the two of you were nothing to each other. When you step out of the door to 79s, you try to put Crosshair out of your mind. This was a hookup, now, and you wanted to enjoy yourself.

The cab ride back to your apartment is filled with desperate kisses and pleading hands, promises of what’s to come. You’re thankful the cab driver is a droid - otherwise, you wouldn’t be nearly as handsy with the boytoy in the backseat with you.

When you enter your apartment, Kix looks around and looks like he’s about to start a conversation, but you’re too desperate for any sort of touch that you kiss him before he can say anything. His hands wrap around your waist, and you slowly push him towards your bedroom.

When the backs of Kix’s legs hit your bed, you start to paw at his armor. Kix pulls away from you, chuckling.

“You know what you want, don’t you?” He asks as he helps unclasp his armor.

“Interesting choice of words from someone who is as hard as a rock right now,” you mumble into his neck as your hand gently graces his codpiece. His legs shift at your touch.

His armor falls to the floor, next to your crumpled pink dress from last night, the one that Crosshair had roamed his hands all over. You hate how, even when you’re about to fuck another man, he invades your thoughts. You funnel that anger into pushing Kix onto your bed and straddling him. You need pleasure, now, something to calm the cocktail of desire and anger thrashing through your veins. Kix is just in his blacks, and he looks at you, a mix of shock and adoration on his face.

“This is definitely not how I saw my night going,” he says. “But I’m certainly not complaining.”

In response, you smirk and pull your dress over your head, abandoning it on the floor. You neglected to wear a bra tonight as it’d just get in the way, leaving you naked save for your underwear. He gapes at your breasts, and he raises his hand to hover over one of them, a question in his pause.

“You can touch me,” you say, and lean down to pin your hands on either side of him. “You can touch me anywhere. ” Your voice pricks goosebumps along his skin as he gently caresses you, a soft gasp escaping your lips.

“You’re beautiful, darling,” he says, then remembers your ask from earlier. “I mean, ma’am,” he winks. The use of ‘ma’am’ causes your hips to roll against him, and he moans, louder than he had at the club. It’s a deep and delicious sound, and you lean down.

“What do you want me to do to you?” You ask, hips gently grinding against him and lips hovering over his cheek.

“Anything you want,” he breathes. You grab his hands and push them on either side of his body, pinning him down.

“Anything?” you ask. He’s grinding into you now.

“Fuck yes, ma’am,” he says between moans. “You can do anything…I’ll do anything…please, fuck, touch me, ma’am.”

“How could I deny such a request when you’ve asked so nicely?” You buckle your hips into his, pleasure radiating from your core. Your hands release his hands and immediately roam under the shirt of his blacks, pulling them off. He’s quaking underneath you, and you lean down, kissing his neck and moving down to his chest.

“So gorgeous,” you moan into him, licking and sucking along his chest, leaving red and purple bruises in your wake. He’s hard underneath you, and you know you’re ready to take him now, but you wanted to extract as much pleasure from this as possible.

“I want to cum twice, Kix,” you demand, not a question.

“Yes ma’am. Anything. Fuck, this is so hot.” He’s already a sweaty, disheveled mess underneath you.

“I’m going to sit on your face,” you say. “Can you handle that, Kix?”

He nods. “Yes, ma’am. Please.” You smile at his eagerness and finish undressing, climbing his sturdy body, pressing yourself to his mouth.

“Fuck,” is all Kix says before he begins to lick. This is what you’ve been waiting for - Kix wrapping his arms around your thighs, his tongue sending electric pleasure throughout your body. You moan, loudly and repeatedly, and this only encourages Kix to work on you even harder. He’s fully erect underneath his blacks, and the thought that this was turning him on as much as it did for you made the pleasure feel all the more better.

Again, though, was that nagging thought - Crosshair eating you out, straining against his blacks, begging for you to touch him. Crosshair at your mercy . Instead of pushing the thought away this time, though, you embrace it and allow yourself to imagine it was Crosshair underneath you as your grip on your inhibitions was severely weakened. It was a self-fulfilling cycle - you hated Crosshair for invading your mind so deeply you thought of him even when you were fucking another man, and you wanted to put him in his place, so you imagined you were fucking Crosshair instead of the man beneath you. Fuck.

Crosshair - no, Kix - kept at you until you reached a familiar peak. His hands dig into your ass, as if he was afraid that if he didn’t hold you so tightly, you’d float away. This was definitely not his first time eating pussy.

“I’m close, Kix,” you say, grateful you used the right name when you spoke. Kix moans in anticipation, his hips bucking against the air as his tongue circles your clit. You cum hard against his face, riding the high for as long as you could as he caresses small circles into your thighs with his thumbs. You dismount and collapse on top of him, immediately kissing him sloppily, not caring that he tasted like you.

“You did such a good job,” you praise, mostly proud, but a small part ashamed that you were thinking of another.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he pants. “You’re awakening parts of me I didn’t even know I had.” You smile in response and kiss him again, wrapping your arms around him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re taken care of,” you breathe between kisses. “I just…need a second. You did a really good job.”

“Well, I did say I was skilled in all parts of the body,” he retorts before kissing you again. His hands run along your body as you reignite, kissing his neck and lavishing him with praises for how well he took care of you. Your hands slip under his pants and you pull them down, freeing his cock.

“Oh, please,” Kix pants.

“Mm. Do you want me to ride you?” You ask.

“Please. Please, ride me, ma’am. I need it. I’m begging you.”

You barely run your hand along his length, and he thrashes underneath you. You shudder, and lean up from him, biting your lip.

“Are you ready?” You say, and in response, he gives incomprehensible babble about how he needs this and he needs you. As your hips roll into him, you relax as he groans with pleasure. One of his hands lazily makes its way up to your breast as you start to slowly ride Kix, giving out soft gasps as he works his way inside of you. Stars, he feels so good, and you close your eyes as you gently rock your hips.

“That’s it,” you say as Kix squirms and bucks underneath you. “Unravel for me, baby.” He’s so gorgeous like this, eyes half-shut and body covered in sweat, and you call out sweet praises saying so. He seems to like the praise, as it causes him to moan a little louder and his hips to thrust a little harder. His hand falls away from your breast.

“I can’t even think straight,” he admits. “You’re so perfect, ma’am. Fuck, I’m close.” You are too.

And there’s that nagging thought again, wondering if this would be like riding Crosshair - if he would fall apart as beautifully and obediently as Kix would, or if he would tease and nag. You want to know, and the thought fuels you as you ride Kix harder, almost as if you could physically push the thoughts out of your mind with a thrust.

When Kix cums, he lets out a moan that pushes you over the edge. You tumble down the precipice together, convulsing and moaning. You fall on top of Kix in the afterglow, giving him a soft kiss as he wraps the blankets around you.

“Damn,” he says. “I think you fucked my brains out.” You huff a laugh in response.

“Stay?” You ask. “Don’t worry, I’m not catching feelings,” you preemptively state. “I just need cuddles after sex.”

He laughs, and wraps an arm around you. “Don’t tell anyone, but me too.”

Kix falls asleep quickly, but persistent thoughts keep you awake. Fucking Crosshair. You hated him. Hated how you wanted to see him beneath you, how you wanted to ride his face for hours, how you wanted to make him your little bitch. At least the jealousy sex you were getting out of it was good.

Eventually, you fall asleep long after the afterglow fades, your mind plagued with thoughts of him and things you would never have.

Kix leaves in the morning with little fanfare, and immediately after he leaves, you pull out your holopad and send Crosshair a message, knowing he’ll understand.

You said: CT-6116. More where that came from. 😘

[The Bad Batch+Rex Headcannons] - What makes them fall for you

content: just major fluff!

wanted to pump something out while im still working on my crosshair fic, so this is to keep my creative juices flow while i finish it up! honestly got a cavity while writing these, i love these boys so much 😩. hope you enjoy! <3 

find here on ao3

read under cut

Hunter

Your kindness.

He always liked that about you, even when he first initially sees you as a friend.

But slowly, the more he experiences it firsthand and watches you interact with his brothers and Omega, the more he comes to really love it and finds so much appreciation.

The way you immediately offer your services if a batcher requires assistance.

How you indulge Tech even during his most tedious tangents.

Your endless patience with Crosshair, even when he is in a mood.

The fact you make everyone's cafs for them if you wake before them and have the chance.

The way you treat Omega.

Especially the way you treat Omega.

Seeing you playing with her and telling tall tales to soothe her hardest nights, give her the love and affection like you were her own mother... 

Yep. He's in love.

Even if on the exterior you seem cold and rude, he can still pick out the little things that show how truly considerate you are.

It's the easiest way to his heart.

Tech

For Tech, it's the little things.

He is a like a poet, and you are his muse; he could write a sonnet on each and every single small trait or quirk of yours he absolutely adores.

Like your nose scrunch when you're focused.

Or your early morning breathing when he wakes before you, the steady rise and fall of your chest and stomach that keeps him grounded.

The way you bite the corners of your bottom lip when frustrated. 

How you smile, how you laugh.

The pattern of your footsteps, the melodic beating that creates tunes in his mind.

Small hyper-fixations and cute obsessions you have.

Stories of when you were a child.

The way you like your caf stirred, your food cooked, your hair to rest on your shoulders.

How you look at him, kiss him, hold his face in your palms.

All the little things that make you who you are. That is golden to him.

Wrecker

Your spirit, and, in lots of cases, when you're excited or happy.

He loves to see you in a good mood.

And seeing you basking in that happiness for the first time… it triggers something deep inside of him.

Wrecker is quite the spirited and excitable guy himself, and seeing you energized and the small things that make you that way makes him so warm in such a way.

He doesn't even realize it's love at first.

He should have known, however, since it made him want to kiss your breath away. Make you smile like that every day, every waking hour he is with you, spending time with you. He wants to see you like that, again and again. 

Everything about your liveliness makes him fall to his knees; from the pep in your step to your infectious smile, how you giggle at even the silliest things and spin yourself in his arms.

Even when you aren't stereotypically full of energy, the way you look at the world with such awe and happiness melts his heart.

It makes him want to be your world.

Crosshair

It sounds a little weird, but... the way you love.

He likes you a lot as a person, of course. He wouldn't let you so close to him otherwise. But something about the way you show your love to others (and him) really affects Crosshair in ways he can't explain.

Perhaps it's because he has trouble showing emotions at all, and seeing you do it so effortlessly makes him aspire to be like that in certain cases. Especially with you.

Or maybe, he just loves how you show your love and appreciation.

Constant words of affirmation, reminding him even on his hardest days that he is of value, he is enough, even outside of his born task to being a good soldier.

Playful quips, being able to enjoy his rather dry humor even if it isn't your initial cup of tea.

Your physical affection, how you easily can touch and express emotions through actions in ways that are so pleasing to him...

It makes him really, really want to be a person that you love.

Echo

A few things helped contribute to him falling in love with you.

Firstly, your lack of judgment. 

Echo’s been through so much, poor boy needs a space where he doesn’t feel he has to meet a certain standard, meet the expectations a soldier like him should strive for. 

And you give him that. 

You listen to him, understand why he doesn’t want certain things due to his experiences on Skako Minor, and you give it to him without any questions as to why.

Second, your spitfire. 

He appreciates that you aren’t a pushover, and you have a specific feisty attitude to you that is just so attractive. 

You can snidely remark like he does when you disagree, but still manage to come off as an adult, and not whiny. 

You’ve certainly got a mouth on you. 

The first time you got Crosshair to shut up is easily one of the first moments that Echo realized that he might be in love with you.

And lastly, which is rather cheesy, but your eyes. 

He’s always liked that feature on a partner, but when it comes to you, it really puts the final nail in the coffin for him… 

He loves that you let him read you like a book, look at him with such trust and faith… 

He wants to get lost in them for as long as he lives.

Rex

How you treat him.

It sounds kind of… self-centered, but he really means it. 

You’re just so good to him. So nice and sweet and caring and nurturing… he’s eternally grateful. 

Of course, he gives back; not only does he feel obligated, but he enjoys it. 

His love language is acts of service, both ways; so when you first meet him, and you’re just so kind in your words and actions, it takes him by surprise. 

Rex is not used to being treated well.

He’s been exclusively groomed and trained for war and has believed his whole life that he has no other purpose but that. 

So to feel that he might have a place in this world that isn’t just warfare and bloodshed… it makes his heart melt.

The first time you ever let him relax and be taken care of, even as friends, he almost cries.

He can’t believe that he’s being treated like this, so gently and purposefully. As if he was finally being rewarded for a life of loyalty and dedication.

Just being able to revel in your general goodness makes him so happy, and every time he allows himself to relax and be taken care of, he falls in love with you all over again.

THERE IS SOMETHING TO BE SAID FOR FREEDOM

AKA Analysis of Crosshair in The Tipping Point

This may sound like a strange claim to be making about Crosshair in S2 E14. (SPOILERS BELOW IF YOU HAVEN’T SEEN THIS EPISODE YET).

Crosshair is imprisoned this entire episode. Tied down. Tortured. Unable to move. And yet I was almost speechless at how he is rendered, in both his facial expressions and his choices. As strange as it sounds to say, I think Crosshair is at peace in this episode. This man is finally, fully HIMSELF. It’s HIM. This is the REAL Crosshair, like we’ve never seen him before.

His face (and his eyes) are so OPEN. I don’t know how else to describe it. Prior to this, Crosshair had a variety of colorful facial expressions that he usually kept on him, ranging from sarcastic sneers, brows pulling together in worry, feigned disinterest, and downright rage. (I will be making a separate post on the expansive range of Crosshair’s expressions and how I think they signify what his real emotions are). 

But here, we start with Crosshair in a prison cell, being roughly taken out of his confinement to another location. Normally I would expect Crosshair to have a very sour, disdainful look on his face as these TK troopers cuff him and haul him out. But he doesn’t. Yes there’s a bit of a raised eyebrow still, but his face is just calm. Open. Serious but not fraught with tension. (Also, shameless side note: this man looks so good in blue/gray/not black colors. They make him seem softer and more open, as well).

Not only that, but he gazes around him, eyes moving side to side, paying attention to the other prison cells (maybe even looking to see if there was someone he knew also being held there?), even getting himself in trouble for taking an interest in those around him. Crosshair, who has always held himself separate and apart, has always pretended to look away even when he was listening. He is present, even in the midst of a horrible situation. 

I was reminded of the end shot in The Solitary Clone, and the parallels of him walking freely down the hallway as an imperial there, and a prisoner here. But in the first one he’s actually a prisoner inside himself, while in the second, he might be held captive on the outside, but he’s free on the inside. 

Even to Emerie and Hemlock, Crosshair remains surprisingly mild and level in his responses. May I remind you what this man’s face has looked like earlier in his story when dealing with people in power over him - and when being tasked to give up his family.

But instead he simply gazes at them calmly–suspicious, but clear-headed. He is in possession of his self esteem and purpose once again, and he doesn’t need to put on a front of superiority or fury in order to face the gaze of others. 

And he knows immediately what the doctor wants. He obviously has no intention of giving up his brothers. His face and tone remain even, controlled. He still says “the kid” to Hemlock’s face, but there is no animosity in using those words. And we will see how that was no longer Crosshair’s real opinion of Omega.

On the flipside of this calmness, we have very rarely seen Crosshair fall apart from pain or fear in front of others. But this torture from Hemlock is excruciating, and as a result of Crosshair’s emotions being closer to the surface, his sensitivity to pain and fear and anguish are on full display as well. 

He manages to escape the current torture, but his goal isn’t to save himself. In maybe the most important scene of this episode, Crosshair risks his life to warn and try to save his family, his brothers, his sister, with no regard for the consequences to himself. And yes, we almost got to hear him say “Omega” for the first time. Do we need any more proof that he cares? Crosshair is finally, truly, making the right decisions for the right reasons and he knows it. And that loyalty is going to help him bear whatever he has to bear to keep his family safe. 

He is in so much pain and I hate it 😭

“Why suffer more?” Hemlock asks him. He is defiant, yes. But his “severe and unyielding nature,” his stubbornness and loyalty, his need to be accepted for who he is, are finally being put to the right purpose.

(Also, you cannot tell me this wasn't foreshadowing from The Solitary Clone.)

This is a man who loves and cares DEEPLY, who loves his family even after having had all trust severed on both sides, who would do anything to protect them, even if it means risking his own sanity and self. This man is at peace with his own actions - FINALLY. This is him. And that means so much to me.

I apologize now for the pain, but I am going to end by connecting this to a quote from Andor. Maarva’s last message to Cassian broke my heart and rebuilt it from the inside when I first heard it, and I realized that it could fully apply to Crosshair as well:

"Tell him, he knows everything he needs to know and feels everything he needs to feel. And when the day comes, and those two pull together, he will be an unstoppable force for good. Tell him... I love him more than anything he could ever do wrong." 

Nar Cyar’ika

Crosshair x Jedi!Reader

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

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

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

Word Count: 6.8k+

Tagging: @techs-feral-wife

“General! Look out!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just a single Commando Squad…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Two down, two to go.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s next?” Hunter asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, why not,” Hunter said slowly.

“Saves on fuel,” added Tech.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“General,” He wheezed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Five months was a long time.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Five months was too long.

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

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

“Jumpy,” He sneered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

If only this wasn’t so hard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it time to go already?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then you met Crosshair.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s my turn.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cross…” you whimpered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you mean it?”

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

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

“What you said.”

“I thought you were asleep.”

He sighed.

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

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

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

“You might.”

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

“Not when it comes to you.”

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

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

sweetheart, i will ruin you (1/3)

“I’m top of my squad for a reason.”

“What else are you on top of?"

“Clever girl. Do you want to find out?”

in which, you meet a toothpick-shaped clone at a bar, and he leaves you hanging. so you fuck every clone you can to piss him off.

***

words: 2.6k no season 2 spoilers

crossthots, come get yalls food

uh. how the fuck is the first smut i post with fucking CROSSHAIR?? I have no excuses. His voice in the S3 trailer got to me, i guess. i blame @starsscarmyceiling

18+ only, minors DNI or you will be blocked.

You didn’t set out to become the most infamous woman to ever grace the doors of 79’s, but that’s just how it happened.

Your friends- acquaintances, more like -had dragged you out to the club, wanting to see some troopers before they were deployed for action. Your crush on clones was no secret amongst your social circle, at least not after one of them discovered a pin-up clone magazine next to your vibrator after you accidentally left the bedside table drawer open.

While you liked clones, seeing them in their natural habitat at 79s felt…odd. Like you weren’t supposed to be there, like you were intruding. You and your friends in your party clothes stuck out like a sore thumb against the sea of white plastoid armor.

Then your eyes crossed his.

While he looked similar to every other clone, a crosshair symbol tattoo punctuated his right eye and his gaze shot through you like a bullet. He was leaner, taller, built like the toothpick in his mouth, and leaned against the wall with an intoxicating confidence. You blushed as he stared you down - was he staring at you since you came in?

You pulled your attention away from him and began nursing your drink, hoping your friends wouldn’t notice how flushed you were.

“I think she found one she likes,” one of your friends said, sing-songy. What was her name? Sam? She was always a bitch.

Out of the corner of your eye, he moved. Shit. A chorus of “oohs” erupted as he walked towards you, one of his hands toying with the toothpick in his mouth.

“Care for another drink?” he said, voice raspy but sultry in a way that made your pulse race and palms warm.

“…Sure,” you finally find the courage to say after a silence much too long.

“Alone?” he says. Your friends murmur.

As he slides his credit chit across the counter, you know he knows you’ll say yes. He knew he had you, just like prey in a scope.

“Why not?” you say as the bartender hands you the drink. If anything, free alcohol.

He guides you back to his booth of the bar, arm hovering over your waist. Your friends are gossiping madly, but you can’t be bothered to care. He stares at you from the other side of the narrow.

“So.” You state, and take a sip of your drink. You want to ask, why me? but think better of it. Instead of answering you, he continues to stare.

“You looked miserable. Thought I’d help you out. He breaks your gaze to peer into the neon across the bar. “Doesn’t hurt that you’re nice to look at.”

The compliment catches you off guard as you self-consciously look down at your pink velvet dress. Your chest is uncharacteristically exposed compared to what you usually wear.

“Yeah, we’re celebrating tonight. Someone’s wedding, don’t care whose. I figured, why not come with them?” The lie slips off your tongue easily enough - this man doesn’t need to know that your friends dragged you out here due to the aforementioned vibrator-magazine incident.

“You don’t seem like the type to hang out here,” he says, voice smooth as a snake, sending goosebumps up your arms.

“I’m not,” you admit. “Sick of staying in all the time, I guess.”

“We don’t see many like you in 79s,” his voice, sultry and smooth, slithers across the table. “Innocent. Not fawning.”

“I hope that’s a compliment.”

“It is, party girl.” The term of endearment sends a shot of arousal to your core and you take in a breath, trying to remain composed.

You huff. “I thought we just established that I’m the opposite of that.”

“It’s ironic. I’d thought a smart girl like you would understand that.”

You inhale, exhale, wanting to move this conversation away from topics that will only fluster you. “What’s your unit? You don’t look like any clone I’ve ever seen before.”

“Not relevant to the conversation. I want to know more about you,” he smirks. His hand rests on the table, toothpick in hand, as he leans forward.

Fine. Two could play at that game - you’re sick of his pompous assholery already, how he got your blood running hot with just a glance. You could definitely tack on the charm if necessary, and boy, did he need to be taken down a notch. You lean forward, closer to him, knowing this angle gives him a better view of your plunging neckline.

“What do you want to know, mystery man?” He surprisingly keeps his eyes level with yours and resists the urge to gaze downward. He’s not giving up so easily.

“Everything about you, sweetheart,” he says the nickname so sickeningly sweetly, “but a name will do the job for now.”

It’s so hard to keep your composure as his eyes bore into yours. More alcohol would help, and you take another sip.

“Mira,” you say your real name, realizing after the fact that you should have given this man- who likely has a higher killcount than you have friends -a fake name.

“Mira,” he purrs, drawing out the syllables. “Suits you.” As his words shiver down your spine, you suddenly don’t regret giving him your real name.

“And you?” Your friends are long forgotten now as the pounding music of the club matches your heartbeat.

“Crosshair,” he says, and you snort into your drink. “What’s so funny?”

“Apt name,” you murmur. “Considering.” You gesture to his eye tattoo.

“Ah. Well, I don’t let anything out of my sight once they've caught my eye, so it fits.” The innuendo makes heat pool between your legs and he leans even closer. Stars, your foreheads were almost touching.

“And I’d say someone just entered my sights,” he finishes.

You break his gaze. Look at his lips, took another sip.

“Is that so?” is all you can muster. Fuck, your voice broke, and he smirks.

He tilts his head. “I’m top of my squad for a reason.” His hand grazes your forearm, and the electricity it sends across your body is nearly as intoxicating as the alcohol. You desperately want to turn the tables on him, make him the one blushing crimson, so you muster your confidence.

“What else are you on top of?” You try to alluringly run your hand over his arm, press your nails ever so gently into his forearm, but your hands shake and you can’t meet his eyes.

He chuckles. “Clever girl. Do you want to find out?”

You force yourself to look him in the eye, willing yourself not to imagine exactly what that would be like. “I’d love to see you on top.”

His grip on your arm tightens. “That…can be arranged.” His breath echoes on your cheek, and you wish this damn table wasn’t in the way. Crosshair notices how pressed up you are against it.

“Eager, aren’t you?” He chuckles.

“Don’t act as if you aren’t dying to get your hands all over me,” you say.

He takes the toothpick from his mouth and drags it along your arm. “Now why would I do that and ruin the chase?”

The toothpick, while not sharp, is just pointy enough to leave a brief white mark along your arm, and you shiver. Crosshair stands up, your hand in his, and the soft gesture catches you by surprise. Before you can linger on it, though, his hand moves to wrap along your waist as he pulls you into a dim alcove of the bar. You’re backed into the wall, and he looks about to lay his hands on either side of you when a familiar voice perks up.

“Mira, are you coming? We’re going to hit the next bar,” Sam says. Instantly, your stomach coils, and not in the pleasurable way you were hoping for.

“She’s occupied,” Crosshair murmurs.

“I didn’t ask you, toothpick,” Sam retorts. Crosshair scowls at the nickname.

“Are you coming, Mira?”

“No,” you respond. While you appreciated Sam checking in to make sure you were okay, you really wish she hadn’t barged in on such an…intimate moment.

“I’ll holo you later,” you say. You were about to say you would catch up with them later, but you realized the odds of that happening were getting lower and lower.

Sam looked between you and Crosshair, somewhat confused. “Alright. Be safe.”

Crosshair looks behind to make sure the two of you wouldn’t be interrupted again. When he’s satisfied your friends have left, he runs a hand along the side of your face.

“Now. Where were we?” he whispers into your neck. Bolts of pleasure coarse along your skin, and you instinctively place your hands around his torso. Crosshair hums appreciatively and comes closer to closing the gap between the two of you. This wasn’t your first time doing something like this - hell, it wasn’t your first time getting physical at the bar - but it had never been this sensual, this nerve-wracking before.

Crosshair’s running his hands on the most innocent parts of your body -arms, hands, clavicle - in a way that feels simply erotic. He hasn’t even kissed you yet, and you feel like jelly. Your hair has most certainly fallen from its once-pristine updo and a slight sheen of sweat covers your forehead.

“So responsive,” he hums into your neck. “I am going to ruin you, sweetheart.”

“And I’ll do the same to you,” you pant, knowing your disheveled state suggests otherwise.

“Really? I’d like to see you try,” he laughs into your neck. His leg pushes slightly into your thigh in a move that almost seems accidental, but the delightful pressure that results couldn’t have been a mistake. You hold back a moan. Stars, no man had ever unraveled you this completely in such a short amount of time. Usually, you were the one calling the shots, the one pushing them against the wall.

In an attempt to gain some control over the situation, you push yourself into his body, but given the way he leans in and fucking smirks, you know it was what he wanted all along. Crosshair, with one hand wrapped around your waist, perks your chin up with his other hand so you meet his eyes.

“You are such a delicate little thing,” he says, and then he kisses you.

First kisses were typically gentle, but Crosshair was not a typical man. His lips are rough and nearly nonexistent, and he immediately pushes his tongue into your mouth. You gasp and whimper as you relent against the wall. His body is fully against you now, one leg gently brushing your inner thighs. Your hands curl around the base of his neck as your legs widen and your tongue brushes his. You run your tongue along the base of his teeth, a move that elicits the slightest gasp from him. Before you can gloat at the minor victory, though, he presses harder against you and his hard cock becomes apparent against your thighs.

The thought that he was as turned on by this as you were causes you to whimper and lean into the kiss, not caring that you were in public and there were definitely people watching. Who cares? It was 79s, after all. Debauchery was expected and encouraged.

You slightly buck your hips and by the way Crosshair grunts, you know he was ready to take you then and there, and by the feeling of wetness between your legs, you were too. His arm that was behind you reaches up and buries into your hair, pulling your face even closer to him. Wanting to reciprocate his level of passion, and overcome with desire, you give his ass a light smack. Crosshair immediately pulls away from you, and you know you’ve made a mistake.

“I am in charge here, sweetheart. Do something like that again and I’ll make sure you remember.” His words, while a threat, make your knees buckle underneath you. You want to know what would happen if you disobeyed him again, but you want to continue with what you’ve begun too much to find out.

“Understood,” you respond, breath ragged. He pulls away from you further and looks around.

“How about a change in scenery?” He asks, and you nod, a bit too eagerly for your liking.

Crosshair leads you out of 79s, and the lingering glances from other patrons make you blush - as if you weren’t just getting hot and heavy in the back corner. He leads you to an alleyway not far from the bar, in between two buildings. Thankfully, there appear to be no windows, and he’s led you to an area nestled between boxes that would be difficult to find if you weren’t looking for it. The dangers of following a man with possessive tendencies into a dark alleyway at night aren’t lost on you, but you find yourself too worked up to care.

“I bet you take all the girls here,” you rib.

“Only the clever ones,” he says, but before you can quip a response, you’re back against the wall and his mouth is on your neck, covering it in little licks. You put a hand over your mouth, self censoring.

“Don’t mute yourself, sweetheart. I want to hear how much I ruin you,” he says as he leans up from your neck. “Nobody can hear you back here.”

The thought should terrify you, but it only makes you louder as Crosshair slips a hand between the flimsy scraps of fabric that cover your breasts. His hands gently caress them as you moan, a tenderness you weren’t expecting from him. He’s pulled away from your neck and now watches you with intense concentration as his hand palms your breast. You attempt to rub your knee between his legs, but you’re too weak from his hands for it to be a worthwhile effort. Stars, you wanted this man, and you wanted him in a dingey alleyway on the lower levels of Coruscant. What was the galaxy coming to?

“That’s it,” he encourages as you unravel against the wall. The hand that was wrapped around your breast slowly works its way down between your legs. Your dress is short and he can easily slide his hand on the outside of your underwear; the slight pressure from his hand against your center makes your head splay back as you let out a heady moan.

“You’re so wet,” he nearly moans. His voice is more labored now, obviously aroused at your arousal. He seems close to breaking the façade of uncaring bastard, brows furrowed and mouth taut. The hand between your legs fastens, but only agonizingly so.

“Crosshair,” you moan, and he closes his eyes at the mention of his name. You rock against his hand, desperate for any sort of contact. You needed this.

And then, just as quickly as it started, he pulls his hand away from you and you whimper.

“What…” you say, not really a question, but a statement. “Is something wrong?” Crosshair looks labored, torn, even, but then the signature asshole persona slips back into place.

“Sorry to get you worked up, sweetheart, but I’ve got places to be. You’re a mess - you should clean up before heading out.” He pauses. “You were…alright. I’ll be in touch.”

And then Crosshair left, leaving you aching and wanting in the alley near 79s as you were left wondering what you did wrong.