Can I Get A Kiss?

What the FUCK did the animators put into Crosshair Bad Batch to make him so hot

Like HONESTLY

Hey I was wondering if you could write a crosshair x reader where they have a lazy morning maybe with batcher too.

Lazy Morning

Summary: You decide to sleep in on your day off. It leads to a very relaxing day with the love of your life.

Pairing: TBB Crosshair x F!Reader

Word Count: 1087

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: I started writing this ages ago and then put it on pause, before continuing it today and I have no idea where I was originally going with the story, so I'm sorry if the vibes changes midstory. The only problem now is that I want to lounge by the pool. Alas, there is no pool.

It’s early, though not so early that the sun isn’t high in the sky, and you groan in annoyance when the bright morning sun hits your face, waking you from your very nice sleep.

Wait.

You’re fairly certain that you shut the curtain before you fell asleep last night.

You crack open a singular eye just as something large and heavy lands on the bed, and then you yelp as the solid mass of muscle flops next to you. “Batcher-?”

The lurca hound releases a happy little noise and buries her head under your pillows and blankets. 

You groan and roll onto your back, flinging your arm over your eyes, “Crosshair? Why is your dog in my bed?”

“I’m fairly certain it’s our bed, angel.” Crosshair replies from somewhere on the other side of the room, near the door. He’s probably the one who opened the curtain too.

“You don’t live here, leech.” You counter without any heat in your voice.

“Rude, and I went through all of the trouble of making caf and breakfast for you. But, since you aren’t interested-”

“I hate you. What did you make?” You ask as you slowly sit up and squint at the man leaning against the door frame, “And how’d you get in anyway?”

“I made a quiche-” You shoot him a look, and he rolls his eyes, “Believe it or not, I am capable of following instructions from a recipe.”

“Yeah, but normally people start with, like, pancakes. They don’t tend to jump to quiches.” You reply as you swing your legs off the bed and stretch your arms over your head, “And you didn’t answer how you got in the house.”

“I picked the lock.”

“Cross!”

“Hey, you don’t want me to pick the lock, then give me a key.”

“Ugh, I haven’t had a copy made yet. I’m working on it.” You pad over to him, yawning widely, and then you thump your head against his chest, “Why’re you and Batcher over here anyway.”

“My brothers are annoying.” Crosshair replies as he sets his hand between your shoulder blades, “I needed some quiet.”

“Mm,” You slide your arms around his waist, “And you decided to make breakfast for me while enjoying the quiet?”

You feel him shrug, “You deserve to be spoiled. Maybe.” He says, his hand sliding up to rest lightly at the back of your neck. 

“Maybe?” You ask with a laugh.

“I do have a reputation, kitten.”

“Yeah, yeah. I remember.” You rub your nose against his chest, allowing the sharp scent of Crosshair to fill your lungs, and then you pull back slightly, “Thank you for making breakfast, I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome,” He lightly rubs the back of your neck with his thumb, a small, slightly crooked, smile on his lips. “It still needs to cook for a bit, so you have time enough to shower and wake up.”

You hum thoughtfully, “Yeah, I might do that.” You lean in to brush your lips against his jaw, only to giggle as he ducks his head to kiss you properly. You lightly trail your fingers against his jawline, “Good morning, Crosshair.”

“Mm, it is a good morning now,” He murmurs, before he drops one more kiss against your lips, “Go take your shower, I’m going back to the kitchen. Batcher, off!” The dog whines but jumps off your bed, dragging your comforter with her.

You sigh, and Crosshair chuckles, “I’ll handle it, kitten. I’m planning on spending the day lounging by your pool, so maybe grab a swimsuit.”

“You just want to watch me parade around for you in a bikini.”

“Yeah, of course.”

You huff, though there’s no heat, and you lightly kiss him one more time before you meander over to your dresser to dig out your swimsuit, “Why do you want to use the pool when we live on an island?”

“Uh, there are people at the beach, and there aren’t people here. Besides, you’re the one who owns a pool in spite of living on a tropical island.”

You scowl at him as you pull out your bathing suit, “I didn’t build the pool, the house came with it.”

“You still bought it.”

“Inherited it.”

“Same difference.” He walks over to you and tugs your bikini out of your hands, before pulling a different one out of your dresser, “Wear this one.”

“...this is white.”

“I know what I’m about, kitten.”

“You’re such a man sometimes,” You take the bikini though and turn towards the bathroom, “I’ll be down shortly.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

Fifteen minutes later, you step into the kitchen, clad in the white bikini and a sarong hung low around your hips. Crosshair offers you an appreciative whistle, before he tosses a ball out the back door for Batcher to chase.

“Prettier than a sunset,” He praises, a small smirk on his lips.

“Only because I’m wearing this thing,” You counter as you walk over to him and lightly pluck his toothpick out of his mouth.

“You could take it off, I won’t complain.” He drawls with an appreciative drag of his eyes down your body.

You point at him with his toothpick, “Pervert.”

“Guilty as charged.” He pushes your hand away and stands so he’s able to catch your lips in a kiss, “I opened the umbrella and put your breakfast on the table outside already. I also put out towels for us, as well as the sunblock.”

“Well, you have everything in hand, don’t you?”

“All that’s left to finish the perfect morning, is you sprawled out in the sun.” Crosshair replies.

You laugh softly, “Well then, who am I to deny you?” His arms snake around your waist and he tugs at the knot holding the sarong in place.

“You’re not going to need this, kitten. It’ll just get dirty.”

“And I’m sure it has nothing to do with wanting to see my legs.”

“Of course not.”

“Uh-huh.” You slide your hands up his chest and then wrap your arms around his neck, “It’s a good thing that I actually like your attention.”

“Oh, how much do you like my attention?” Crosshair asks as he bumps his forehead against yours.

“Enough that I’m considering inviting you to spend the night.”

He chuckles, “Well then, I’d better behave so you don’t change your mind.”

And you laugh one more time, before you pull him down into a kiss, leaning your weight against him. He’s right about one thing, this is definitely the perfect morning.

Silco: You anger me so quickly. It’s remarkable.

Y/N: ????

Y/N: i literally said like two words to you

Silco: And yet here I am, boiling with rage.

The final girl

Congrats,you're the one who makes it to the end. Your instincts, paranoia and/or pure fucking stubbornness guide you every bloody step of the way. When the dawn finally breaks, you're the last one left standing

Sure, it cost you friends and loved ones and you're going to have one hell of a therapy bill, but at least you're alive.

I'd also like to add that he's also a sexy skeleton man.

skulduggery pleasant really is the character of all time. he's a sentient skeleton. he based his entire aesthetic off of a noir detective. he's magic. he's an insane little freak. he's sarcastic. he wears a hat and a trench coat wherever he goes. he's violent and unhinged at all times but in the very same breath he treats his enemies with honor and respect. I want to study him like a bug

fallin' for ya

Crosshair x GN!reader

pre TBB, pre Echo :(

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

wc: 1k

-✰-✰-✰-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

xxx

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Crosshair when Y/N isnt giving him attention

dilf rebirth

might as well

This is Money Snake. She only appears every 312 years. 

If you reblog her picture within the next twenty-five seconds you will have good luck and fortune for the rest of your life. 

Fine I'll watch rebels again to feed myself rex content

Okay I admit I got a crush on you and your brothers what can I say a girl has her taste in men.

Also - DO NOT DIE ON ME

It's a mighty fine taste, to be sure.

I can't promise anythin' but I mean... I look good with a beard.