Keeping Company

I believe in Crossdad supremacy

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

Aloha!

This isn't going to end well.

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

Warnings: Angst/Violence/Tiny Bit Of Fluff

_________________

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

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

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

___________________

The Fatal Mistake

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Let her go."

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

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

"Get your hands off her, now!"

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

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

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

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

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

"You won't get another chance at this"

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

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

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

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

"Are you sure?" he asks gently.

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

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

"Of course. Anytime, Kitten."

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

@rintheemolion

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@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

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@starwarsnerd111

Okay…I’m opening my inbox for a very limited number of requests!

Bad Batch Requests!!

I’m going to take 2-3 to start and then I’ll close it until I get those out!

So send in some requests for the following characters!

Tech, Hunter, Crosshair, or Echo!!

Bad Batch Period Head-Cannons

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

Warnings: None really

Relationship: The Bad Batch x Gn!Reader

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

Hunter:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wrecker:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tech:

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

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

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

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

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

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

Echo:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Crosshair:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

requests are open!

currently taking requests for

adrian chase

richie kirsch

hughie campbell

crosshair

tech

Interruptions

Crosshair X Reader

I had no real plans for this one, but i might make a part two where they can actually get some love! Also I thought it would be hella funny to imagine Hunter's face! Anyways, Enjoy!!!

Masterlist

minors do not interact 18+

"Problem?" Crosshair's rasp brought you back to reality. You had been staring him down, unknowingly.

"No, of course not." You sighed trying to put words to your emotions, "I just have a head ache and this whole thing is stressing me out. Not to mention-" Crosshair's interrupted with his actions.

All he did was draw you into his chest and you were putty. The headache faded and the stress washed off with it. "How long have you been wanting to do that." You tried to play it cool, but your nervousness boiled into a stamper, that he (of course) noticed.

Your cockiness was more than adorable to him. He wanted to hear more of that bold stamper. Maker, he yearned for you like no other. The small things captivated him and collected into a kettle. Now, the cold kettle is on the heat and is starting to boil over.

He hummed rattling your ear that was pressed into his chest. His hand crept up your back and onto your shoulder. "Not nearly as long," he peeled you off his chest. "As I have wanted to do this."

Quicker than you could process his hand rested around your throat and his lips fell onto yours. You mewled into the surprise causing him to spill a low chuckle into the kiss as well. The combination of action and noise fueled your desire.

He pulled away and slid his hand up your jawline, landing on your check and chin. Using his new claimed position, he angled your eyes into his. "Let me take care of you."

You swallowed hard at the offer before slowly nodding. "Answer me, princess." Confusion struck you, to which he noticed. "Out loud." His patients was wearing thin and you stole all of his consciousness.

"Please take me-" all he need was that statement before his lips consumed yours. Electricity flooded the Marauder's cabin air as he rushed your back into a wall. Before the collision with the wall, you were stumbling. You need to rely on him for support.

He pulled away briefly, "Don't worry princess, I got you. Let me take it from here" he slid his grip down further and lifted your thighs around his waist. Your back made contact with the wall immediately after he lifted you off the ground.

The cold durasteel allowed you to steady yourself in Crosshair's arms. Just before his lips could make contact with your neck, Hunter appeared from the gang plank.

"Perhaps, I should leave." You both stared at the sergeant awkwardly. He turned on his heels and left as quickly as he came. Leaving you and Crosshair in stagnate air.

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.

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.

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.

My bbygworls

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