#773 firepuncher rifle
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Call me dumb, but I didn't know you could take apart Firepuncher, the one that came with the Crosshair Black Series figures.
#the bad batch#tbb#tbb crosshair#the bad batch crosshair#crosshair tbb#crosshair#crosshair bad batch#bad batch crosshair#773 firepuncher#773 firepuncher rifle#toy photography#black series
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Too Much Love Will Kill You Vol.1 Chapter 3
Summary: Hel and Crosshair having a stand off
Warnings: mention of injury, mention of nudity (I guess) violence, use of firearm, cursing, knives, mention of blood and death (let me know if you find anything else worthy of warnings)
word count: 2429
Author's note: This chapter is slightly or not so slightly longer than the ones before. I will be honest I did research on the planet they are heading and looked in the map that how far it was from Coruscant, but I'm not sure if the time they got there is realistic or not, so apologies.
MASTERLIST
"I told them we should have restrained you."
„Crosshair” I breathed out and I just realised how dry my throat and mouth were.
“Pleasure.” he nodded mockingly and kept pointing his rifle at me.
“If you think that I’m going to put it down” I gripped the hilt of the blade tighter. “you are wrong.”
“Then you are not as clever as I thought you were.” he scoffed.
“Maybe, but I’m faster than you’d think.” I was bluffing of course. I wasn’t stupid enough to think that in my condition I had any chance to get to him before he shot me dead.
Neither of us moved, we were just staring at each other waiting for the other to stand down, but we weren’t aware of the other’s stubbornness just yet. I tried to keep myself steady but with every passing second, I felt more and more dizzy and no matter how quickly I blinked I started to see two of the sniper standing in front of me. Then I saw a large figure move out of the corner of my eye.
“What’s going on?” asked Wrecker hesitantly and stepped a little closer to me which made me instinctively take a step back and turn the blade towards him. “Wow! Easy Little Lady!” he raised his hands showing he had no weapon on him. Not like he needed any to over-power me without breaking a sweat. “We don’t want to hurt you.”
“Does he know that?” I nodded towards his brother, who was still aiming his weapon at me.
“Crosshair” Wrecker warned his brother, but he didn’t budge. “Hunter?” he shouted towards the cockpit still putting his hands up assuring me he means no harm. “You remember us, right? We’ve met in the bar, we helped you.”
“Of course, she remembers” said Crosshair his voice raspier than before.
“Tech said she might have concussion.” before I could say anything their brother arrived.
“What’s wro…” but Hunter couldn't finish the sentence when he entered the words stuck in his throat.
“You want me to tell you I told you so now or I should keep it for later?” asked Crosshair with a smug grin. Hunter didn’t answer just shot him a glare, then looked at me with a softer expression on his face and stepped closer.
“Stay where you are!” I snarled at him, and he took a step back mimicking Wrecker’s stance. I was almost sure they meant no harm – well Wrecker and Hunter didn’t – but it was three against one and I wasn't exactly at my best.
“Alright, easy! Let’s all just try to calm down, okay?”
“Where are we going?” I asked trying to stand as straight as I could. My head was pounding even more and the pain in my side started to get worse.
“You are in no position to ask questions.” said Crosshair and it set off something in my brain.
“Now listen to me Sunshine and listen very carefully.” I turned my attention fully towards the sniper pointing at him with the blade. I swear to the Maker, I heard him growl at the “nickname” and I was ready for him to bolt towards me and be at my neck at any moment. “I woke up on an unknown ship, going the Force knows where, with four unknown men around me, one of them pointing a 773 Firepuncher at me from the moment I’ve been up on my feet. So, if anyone here has a good reason to ask questions, it's me.”
“She has a point.” came the fourth voice from behind Hunter. Tech slowly, almost comically slowly walked towards us. “I can assure you; we mean no harm. It really is just an unfortunate series of events. You see while we were trying to – if I may - put you back on your feet, a call came in with a new mission. You were certainly not in any shape to be left alone on Coruscant and we weren’t sure if with your line of work a Medcenter was an option, so we took the liberty to take you with us.” he explained. I was about to say something when the ship started to spin around me, the blade slipped from my fingers, and I was desperately looking for something to hold on to before I could get a closer look at the durasteel floor. I could feel my stomach churning and as if Tech had read my mind, he immediately appeared in front of me with what looked like an empty container. Although I didn’t really get to think about it much as my stomach gave out everything I ate that day, or the day before, depending on how long I have been out. “She for sure has a concussion.” Tech acknowledged as he held my hair keeping it from my face while I was gagging and heaving into the bucket, which made my side hurt even more with every gag that was torn from inside of me.
“For the Force’s sake Crosshair put the rifle down! She is vomiting all over the ship, what do you think she’s gonna do?” I heard Hunter’s frustrated voice.
“I’m trying my best aiming for the bucket, thank you very much.” I said sarcastically, trying to catch my breath. “Although, I can’t promise I won’t throw it at your brother after I’m done.” I added and I heard Crosshair mutter something under his breath, but I didn’t understand what it was. “Thank you.” I looked up at Tech with a tired smile and he only nodded.
“Here.” Wrecker was kneeling next to me – I didn’t even see him move, but again I was pretty busy emptying my stomach just moment before – and handed me a glass of water with a shy smile on his face.
“Thanks.” I breathed with a pained smile, and I reached for the glass. The tips of my fingers were grazing the glass when my gaze strayed to my outstretched arm and my eyebrows shot up. “These are not my clothes.” I looked down on myself and while I waited for their explanation I sat down, and I downed the whole glass of water. It was a black jumpsuit which was obviously too big for me, but not so big for it to be Wrecker’s, I’m sure I would have disappeared in his.
“Yes, well” started Tech and and his face was a little flushed. “your clothes were, well are damaged and we didn’t want to leave you in them so… They got changed…”
“You changed me?” I asked with a serious expression, but I was enjoying his face getting even redder.
“I… I didn’t look.” he stuttered with panic in his voice. “I mean as much as I had to… In a very professional way.” I couldn’t help but chuckle at his reaction.
“It’s alright.” I said with an amused smile which made him blew out some air which he probably kept in waiting for me to shout at him or something. Crosshair scoffed at his brother’s obvious distress which made me look at him. “You wanted to set me up.” I accused him which made him clench his jaw. Even now that he wasn’t pointing his weapon my direction his stance was threatening. His brothers looked at me with questioning looks and I nodded toward the blade on the floor. “That’s yours, right?” I asked Hunter who nodded. “Where do you keep them?”
“In a box under the bunk?” he said with raised brows.
“So, you don’t leave them laying around on the floor?” he kept looking at me with a puzzled look, then put two and two together and looked at Crosshair with an incredulous expression.
“Really?” Hunter asked but his brother didn’t even bother to look at him, he just kept staring daggers at me.
“You left it out where I would find and take it so you could get all trigger happy with me.” I said while slowly – with the help of Wrecker – standing up.
“You really just wanted to prove that you are right, didn’t you?” asked Wrecker with a little disappointed look on his face.
“Technically he wouldn’t have proven anything. Any sane person in her situation, which is waking up on an unknown spacecraft with strangers, would have looked for weapons to defend themselves if necessary.” Tech interjected as he moved the container with his foot.
“You want me to apologize?” Crosshair raised a brow while putting a toothpick between his lips.
“You really are just a little ray of Sunshine, aren't you?” I challenged which made him take a step towards me. “But at least I proved to be as clever as you thought me to be, if not more.” I added which made him huff.
“Just don’t let it get into your head, Beroya.”
“Sorry about Crosshair.” Hunter sat down beside me when Tech was done with the tests.
Hours passed after that, Tech looked at my injuries and applied some more bacta to my side. I really wanted to tease him a bit more about my clothes, but I was afraid that he would get a stroke if I did. He gave me some meds which helped with the headache and the dizziness and run some more tests just to be sure. Sweet Wrecker kept bringing me water even though I felt like I would explode if I drank one more sip.
“It’s okay.” I looked at him with a smile then turned to the direction where the sniper sat, still watching me like an ice vulture. “He is protective, he wasn’t sure he could trust me around his brothers and did what he thought was the best.” I said and Hunter looked at me with wide eyes. “I didn’t say it wasn’t stupid or an asshole move" I added with a chuckle. "but I understand. Just don’t tell him I said that.”
“Cross my heart.” he said and was quiet for a couple of seconds. “We wrap this mission up, and we will take you home, I promise.” he said in a serious tone, and I couldn’t help but smile.
“I have no doubt. So” I started, and Hunter looked at me expectantly. “what is it that your pocket sunshine of a brother called me? Be… beroya? Did he expressed himself eloquently while calling me a bitch or…?”
“No, it means bounty hunter in mando’a.” he explained with a nervous chuckle. “He didn’t call you…”
“Anything that you are not.” Crosshair finished his brother’s sentence standing in front of us.
“How nice of you.” I said in a sarcastic tone with a fake smile. “You seem pretty pissed about me being a bounty hunter.”
“I don’t like that you can never know where your kind’s loyalty lies, if you have any.” he practically growled the words.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Bounty hunters work for credits no matter where they came from. Republic or the seppies…” that was the moment I was on my feet standing right in front of him. He was at least a head taller than me, so I had to look up at him raising my head so high it made my neck hurt but I didn’t care.
“I would never work for the separatists. You hear me? Never.” I saw red even just from the very assumption that I could work for those murderers.
“You expect me to believe that you are willing to refuse working for separatist when they are quite famous for paying their bounty hunters handsomely.” he called after me. I clenched my hands in a fist to stop them from shaking and I avoided looking at any of them, but I felt their eyes on me.
“Oh, is that so? And why is it?”
“Crosshair leave her be.” Hunter warned him but he didn’t listen.
“You're the last person in this galaxy I owe an explanation to.” I spat out turning away from him. “None of your karking business.”
“You believe whatever you want.” I growled. “I’m not working for separatist scum, I’d rather die. I work for the Senate and the Jedi Council; I’m not taking calls from Dooku or his friends.”
“Why?” he pressed, and I spun around.
“It’s this way.” I heard Tech’s voice and turned to him. He led me to the refresher but before we were out of earshot, I heard Hunter’s and Crosshair’s voice.
“Because they murdered my family!” I shouted before I could think through what I was saying. The silence that fell on the ship was almost deafening. I felt tears welling up in my eyes and I blinked them away as fast as I could before any of them could see. I took a deep breath, straightened my back and put on as neutral an expression as I could. I looked Crosshair dead in the eye and didn’t look away no matter how bad I wanted to. “I hope that my answer was satisfactory.” I said in an ice-cold tone and looked over all of them. “Would any of you be so kind and show me where the refresher is? Unless” I looked back at Crosshair. “you are afraid that this disloyal bounty hunter will try to kill all of you with the shower head, or with a bar of soap or Force forbid with a roll of toilet paper.”
“You just had to.”
“How was I supposed to know?” Crosshair shot back angrily.
When we get to the refresher door Tech stood beside me not saying anything for a good minute.
“Crosshair” he started and readjusted his goggles. “can be a lot sometimes, but he is not a bad person. I’m sure he didn’t mean to upset you. Well not in that way at least…”
“Thank you, Tech.” I said in a monotone voice, I was afraid if I let any emotion slip then there would be no going back and I couldn’t let it happen. It wasn’t the time and place for that. “How long till we get to our destination?”
“We will reach Celanon in about two hours.” Kriff that’s way too long. I can’t just hide away in the refresher for two hours to ignore them.
“You think it would be possible to borrow one of your bunks after I finished in here? I think the meds finally kicked in.” If he saw right through my lie, he didn’t say a thing about it just said he will make sure one of the bunks is decent enough for me to get some sleep in it.
It was going to be a long two hours.
A/N: I wanted to write the mission in this chapter but it kinda run away and with the mision and everything that will happen after it would have been way too long so I had to split it.
Tags: @techs-stitches @lokigirlszendaya @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff
Please tell me if you want to be tagged!
#star wars#the bad batch#oc#the bad batch tech#the bad batch crosshair#the bad batch hunter#the bad batch wrecker#bad batch#clone wars#too much love will kill you#sw tbb#tbb oc#tbb hunter#tbb tech#tbb crosshair#tbb wrecker#the bad batch x oc#star wars fanfiction
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Ill-fitted (The Bad Batch)
Crosshair prepares for his first mission after the fall of Kamino, but something feels wrong with his armor. ~1000 words, set during the beginning of The Solitary Clone. A study of angst, guilt, and denial (AKA the Crosshair special).
---
The new armor is identical to his last set, down to every detail; the slight asymmetry in an inner seam, the pleasing snap of the cuisses joining the knee plates, the hue of the green transparisteel of the visor. Crosshair straps his armor over his blacks, piece by piece. Vambraces, pauldrons, cuirass, greaves. He is methodical and careful in this, as he is everything, and slowly, finally, he begins to feel a soldier again.
Except… the armor rubs across the shoulders, a centimeter loose.
He frowns, ducking his head, rolling his shoulders. He shrugs experimentally, but the armor still sits wrong.
It is a small thing. Nearly imperceptible. Wrecker would have never noticed the difference. Echo would have gone back to the armor’s specs. Tech would likely have found a clever way to alter it on the fly. Hunter would have --
His nostrils flare, lips narrowing. Crosshair shakes his head, face twisting into a grimace.
He must have put it on slightly crooked. The armor is exactly the same make and design as before. There is no reason it would have changed. He stands up straighter, jutting his chin out, tugging at the plate around his neck.
Still loose.
Perhaps it’s not the armor. Perhaps it’s him.
The hunger gnaws at him, a raw pithing agony --
He tries pacing the platform to distract himself, but it’s getting harder and harder. He’s so tired now, and the platform pitches and bucks around him, spinning dizzily in the Kaminoan downpour --
He holds out a weak hand to the ship in the distance, and through his haze he can see every tendon mapped, the sharp jutting of the knuckles, the sickly translucence of the skin --
Crosshair swallows. Medical cleared me. He’s fine. They told him he was fine.
He decides to ignore the loose fit across the shoulders. He will take it to the armory after this mission; he’s due to meet his new commander soon, and there is no time for something so trivial. Rampart’s dig about his unreadiness to command again flickers in the back of his mind, but he ignores that, too. If this is what they ask of him, he is ready to comply.
He reaches for his helmet, places it squarely on his head. His vision swims green. The visor, perfectly narrow and rectangular, shifts his sight and trains his focus.
But there is still no extra cutout for his right eye. Before Kamino he had submitted four requisitions asking for an alteration to the helmet, and all had been denied. He stifles his disappointment. They have their reasons, he is certain.
Though Crosshair still remembers working with the Kaminoans and his squad, pooling ideas and designs for customized armor and weaponry that would make their enhancements shine. They’d been feverish with excitement: Wrecker crowing about materials with increased durability and explosive resistance, Hunter sketching out endless designs for the knife in his gauntlet, Tech waxing rhapsodic about the helmet and goggle system he’d been dreaming of for two years. Crosshair remembers his own requests, his voice steady and sure, filled with the proud certainty that he knew his own abilities and exactly how to boost them.
They’d had their requests granted, every one. When the new armor arrived they’d stayed up half the night in their barracks, gleefully trying out every modification until the regs shouted at them to keep it down.
He reaches up and touches his left pauldron. His gloved fingers brush over its smooth edges, perfectly alike to the right.
They have their reasons….
He picks up his rifle. A replacement 773 Firepuncher, its balance inspired, its weight and heft as familiar as his own arm. He should feel whole, holding it. Restored. Ready to be of service again at last. Yet its weight in his hand does not steady him the way he had expected.
He pushes past the feeling. No matter; the mission calls. Desix and his new commander await, and with them an opportunity to serve the Empire. He opens the door to his room, ready to take it.
The hallway outside his quarters flows with regs in white and black. They march lockstep down the corridor, their boots a steady rhythm like a heartbeat. It irritates him, the sound unpleasant in his ears. He follows at his own pace behind a squad of ten, keeping his gaze down on the floor, and his ill-fitting armor rubs against his neck.
The First Battle Memorial towers above him. He spares it barely a glance, its sea of names having little to do with him, and situates himself near one end to await the meeting with his new commander. He slips off his helmet and stands stock still, tucking the helmet beneath one arm as he rests the butt of his rifle against the floor.
More regs hurry past him, ready to go where they’re needed. They have their orders. He has his --
Good soldiers follow orders.
Good soldiers follow orders.
A pressure building in his head, a voice he doesn’t recognize but knows within his bones, the order -- he was meant for this -- they all were -- why don’t they see it? An ache, confusion, anger rising in his chest, a ringing in his head, what’s happening to him --
All he ever wanted was to be a good soldier --
His shoulders slump slightly. He’d done what needed doing. He would have done it without the chip, if they’d have asked. He’ll prove it. What’s loyalty, after all, without action?
You weren’t loyal to me.
But they hadn’t seen it that way --
His chest aches, heavy beneath his ribs, and it has nothing to do with the fit of his armor.
Crosshair stands silently beneath the great memorial, the golden light softening everything in view. The regs march on past, side by side, footsteps echoing in the vast hall. He shifts his weight and draws himself up to his full height.
He stands alone. The shadows pool around him, and he waits to go and keep the peace.
#the bad batch#the bad batch fanfiction#crosshair tbb#tbb crosshair#crosshair the bad batch#the bad batch crosshair#my batcher fic#the solitary clone#this ficlet brought to you the way that crosshair stands there waiting for cody#like a little kid who isn't sure if their mom or dad has remembered to pick them up from school#and it's breaking my heart
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Kaminocasey's Official Rec List 1/2
A few people have recommended my fics and such in other users asks/challenges. I have a bad habit of getting behind in fics and also I struggle with anxiety really bad so sending asks becomes really difficult. I'm going to share some of my favorites here. I hope that's okay. Also, I hope you guys know how much I cherish our friendships/fanfics on here. <3
There are so many fics out there so if I missed yours or I haven't read it and you want me to read it, PLEASE send it to me!!!! I will be continuing to add to this! ALSO, this is my second time trying to do this so I'm going to do it in two parts!
It's possible that more than one of your fics is recommended. It only allows for 50 mentions lol. So, just be on the look out. <3
THIS IS THE BAD BATCH REC LIST. THE NEXT LIST IS THE CLONE WARS (which also has Mandalorian, Boba Fett, and Rebels Recs)!
Here is Part Two
Hunter
A Common Sense by @dumfanting
Get Down, Make Love by @thottywankenobi
Crosshair
Moonwalker Series by @moonstrider9904
What They Don't Have by @helpinghanikan
Morning Drills by @clone-whore-99
The Cabin by @nahoney22
773 Firepuncher Rifle by @neon-junkie
Yielding by @wolveria
Wrecker
Wreck Me by clone-whore-99
Filled by @thefact0rygirl
Tech
Pop Quiz by @maulslittlemeowmeow
The Wager by @c-ones-adults-only-club
A Different Point of View by c-ones-adults-only-club
Behind the Screen by neon-junkie
Joy And Arousal by @madameminor
Echo
Same Heart by dumfanting
Mutual by @murdertoothpick
Miscellaneous
In More Ways Than One by madameminor (Polybatch)
Heightened Senses by neon-junkie (Tech/Reader/Hunter)
Three Is the Magic Number by @zoeykallus (Tech/Reader/Crosshair)
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You've met my Mandalorian OC M'rina Masturs! Now meet her EVIL CLONE: M'riina!
Sporting Black Chromium armour and a 773-B Firepuncher Rifle, this new antagonist will truly throw M'rina's life into chaos!
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Escape, Rebirth, and Death - Ch 1
20 BBY
Previous Chapter
Next Chapter
My temporary quarters on the Negotiator were sparse. I had a cot, table, and lamp. Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi’s Venator had found me at the rendezvous, alone.
Five days ago, Clone Marshal Commander Cody, CC-2224, directed me to my quarters. Within a day, I received word, I was reassigned to a new squad.
I was thankful for the change in armor. The yellow and grayish camouflage tinted white I had worn for the past year reminded me of Sarrish. The armor reminded me that Jace, Maniac, Blaze, and Gregor were gone.
My new squad was supposed to arrive any moment. I buckled the last clasp on the new armor. The set of katarn-class commando armor consisted of black plastoid plates with a few streaks of red here and there. The Foxtrot Group's emblem was painted on the plastoid plate over my heart.
I clenched my right fist, pressed the button on my knuckle, and my gauntlet vibroblade shot out of the knuckle plate on my glove. I scratched a line for each of my fallen squad members onto my left vambrace. I pressed the button again, opened my fist, and the blade retracted.
I grabbed my two DC-17 hand blasters from the table and slipped them into their holsters. I picked up my medpack and slung it onto my back.
I slid my helmet over my head. I pressed the button by the doorframe, and the door slid open.
Multiple clones stared and whispered as I made the trek to the main dorsal hangar. I was used to being an outsider. Clones were loyal to each other. However, it took a lot of time and effort for a nonclone to earn their loyalty or trust. A nonclone dressed in clone armor was an abnormality.
Cody waited for me at the central strip of the hanger.
I nodded in greeting. “Cody.”
“Ryla,” he said and pointed at the open hanger. “Here comes the Marauder.”
A gray and black omicron-class attack shuttle flew through the opening. It wobbled and harshly landed on the strip.
I took a steadying breath to ease the nerves that ate at my stomach. It had taken months for the Foxtrot Group to get used to me. What if this squad never did?
The ramp lowered on the side of the ship.
Four very different-looking clones walked down the ramp with their helmets held against their sides. The number 99 in Aurebesh and white skulls were painted on various spots of their armor.
One had long hair, a skull tattoo on the left side of his face, and a red headband with a skull. A DC-17 hand blaster, a DC-17m repeating blaster rifle, and a vibro-knife were strapped to his sides. He was slightly shorter than the average clone.
The second one was taller and more muscular than the others. He had a fake left eye, a burn scar on the left side of his head, no hair, a DC-17m repeating blaster rifle, and a vibro-knife sheath on his right leg. He smiled and waved.
The third one wore a specialized visor and goggles. As he walked he stared down and typed on his datapad. Two DC-17 hand blasters were attached to his sides.
The fourth and final one was the most intriguing. He had short, almost-buzzed silver hair and a crosshair tattooed around his right eye. A 773 Firepuncher sniper rifle hung on his back, and a DC-17 hand blaster was strapped to his side. He scowled, grabbed a toothpick from his belt, and placed it in his mouth.
The first clone offered a slight smile.
“Welcome to Clone Force 99,” he said. “I’m Hunter.”
I removed my helmet and introduced myself. Even though Hunter was shorter than the average clone, he was still slightly taller than me.
The fourth clone rolled the toothpick between his teeth and glared.
“Not sure why we need a medic,” he said. “Let alone a nat-born.”
“It is logical to add a medic to our squad,” the third clone said. He glanced at me and looked down again. He continued to type on his datapad. “However, I do see some possible complications with her not being a clone.”
Hunter cleared his throat. He gestured to the clone with the datapad. “This is Tech.” He pointed at the clone with the toothpick. “That’s Crosshair and–”
“I’m Wrecker,” the smiling muscular clone interrupted. “I think you’re great!”
Wrecker’s joyful tone eased the tension. I forced an uneasy smile. “Nice to meet you.”
“We have already been assigned a new mission,” Hunter said. “We must depart immediately. Do you need to grab anything from your quarters?”
I shook my head.
“Interesting,” Tech muttered and walked back to the ship. He continued to stare at the datapad. It was a wonder, he didn’t trip or miss the ship’s ramp.
Crosshair scoffed and followed Tech.
The mission was fairly simple. Crosshair would pick off the droids from a tree south of the Separatist base. Hunter, Wrecker, and Tech would breach the base’s main door. They would fight their way to the control center, where Tech would retrieve the files, and Wrecker would set up the explosives.
Once the perimeter was clear, Crosshair would guard the base’s back entrance. The other three would exit and guard the main entrance. Wrecker would blow up the Separatist base with the remaining droids inside.
My job was to wait below Crosshair’s tree and then follow him to the base’s back entrance.
I tried to keep the irritation at my assignment hidden. I could fight, and I could fight well. Clone Force 99 didn’t know my abilities, but the assignment was an insult.
I leaned against the tree. Crosshair fired his rifle above and another droid collapsed in the distance. Hunter, Wrecker, and Tech slipped into the entrance. I counted the droids–eight left. Eight more droids and I could finally move.
At least at the back entrance, I could shoot something, that was if a droid tried to escape.
Uneasiness twisted in my gut. I straightened. I removed my helmet and closed my eyes. Something was wrong. I internally drew upon my surroundings. A blanket of calm coated my skin.
A vague shadow marched from the south. Something was coming. My eyes snapped open, and I quickly put my helmet back on.
“Crosshair,” I said through the comms. “We’ve got company to the south.”
Crosshair picked off the last droid. He turned and searched the area. “Hunter, there is a platoon marching toward the base.”
“New plan,” Hunter said over the comms. “Tech, Wrecker, and I will deal with the base. Crosshair, take Ryla around the platoon and find a vantage point. Take out a few droids, draw their fire, and then retreat.”
“Copy,” Crosshair grunted.
I waited for him to climb down the tree and followed him through the surrounding forest.
“How did you know?” Crosshair’s voice startled me.
“Know what?” I asked.
“About the platoon.”
“Lucky guess.” I couldn’t tell him I had felt the platoon. Crosshair would think I was insane. “Are you going to climb another tree?”
Crosshair ignored the question. He led me west of the platoon. He found a cliff and positioned himself on the edge of it.
I knelt next to him. At least forty-five battle droids marched below.
Crosshair looked through his scope. He fired. The bolt hit its target.
The platoon slowed to a stop. A few of the battle droids looked around.
The droid next to the collapsed one pointed at the cliff. The platoon fired on our position.
Crosshair shot a few more rounds, and the platoon lost all organization. Forty battle droids fired aimlessly at the cliff.
Crosshair carefully backed away from the edge, and I followed him back through the forest. The Marauder was two klicks away.
I felt useless, and the uneasiness in my gut hadn’t vanished. I had missed something.
A few shadows slipped through the trees.
“Four,” I whispered the code of warning I had used countless times before.
Crosshair stopped. “What?”
One of the shadows to our left aimed. Realization struck me. The platoon had been short nine droids of the typical fifty-six. A squad must have been sent ahead to scout the area, and we had walked right into them.
The droid to the left fired. I pushed Crosshair out of the way, and the bolt hit my left arm. Crosshair caught his balance and immediately took out the squad.
Pain shot up my arm. I gritted my teeth and inspected the wound. Smoke rose from the hole in the plastoid and burned skin. The bolt had left a long gash on the side of my arm. My left hand was numb.
I knelt and pulled off my medpack. I unbuckled and removed my left rerebrace.
“Di’kut,” I muttered to myself.
“What did you just call me?” Crosshair growled. “I’m not the one that said a random number. Instead, of a warning.”
“I wasn’t calling you a di’kut.” I took out a pair of sheers and cut off the fabric surrounding the gash. I grabbed an irrigation bulb and cleaned the wound out. As the liquid stung my skin, I winced.
“I was talking to myself,” I said.
Crosshair stared at me.
“Four was a code word,” I explained. I needed a distraction from the aching pain in my arm. “Foxtrot Group used it. The code meant ‘duck’ or ‘take cover.’”
“Right, Foxtrot Group, the squad you left behind,” Crosshair said. “Tell me, how did you survive?”
I ignored the question, grabbed a bacta patch, and secured it over the gash.
“Did you abandon them and save yourself?” Crosshair asked.
I stilled.
I could still hear Jace’s grunt as the blast pierced his chest, see Maniac fall from his ship, and hear the explosion implode around Blaze. Gregor’s voice echoed in every clone I interacted with.
I was thankful for my helmet. Crosshair would probably berate me for the tear that trailed down my cheek and for the tremble of my lips.
I cleared my throat and hoped he couldn’t hear the sorrow in my voice. “Let’s get out of here,” I muttered.
I replaced my rerebrace. I tossed the supplies into my medpack and slung the pack onto my back.
I marched back to the Marauder.
I sat and leaned against a weapons crate. When Crosshair and I had made it to the Marauder, I had immediately gone to the cargo hold.
The room was only four feet tall. Various weapons and supply crates littered the small space. Hiding wasn’t the best way to integrate into a new squad, but I needed the solitude.
The hum of the ship calmed me. The bacta on my arm eased the pain. I could slightly feel my left hand. My helmet sat beside me. Below me, muffled voices argued. I had only been there a day and had already caused a wedge between the brothers.
I grabbed my helmet and scooted across the hold. The voices grew louder. I slid the hatch open.
“How do you know the nat-born isn’t going to screw us over?” Crosshair argued. “She already did it today.”
His words were like daggers to my heart. Tears welled in my eyes. I forced the pain down and blinked away the tears. I refused to show my pain and give him the satisfaction.
I snatched my helmet and hopped out of the cargo hold.
Tech sat at the console to my right and typed on his datapad. Hunter stood with his arms crossed in the main cabin. He scowled at Crosshair. The latter leaned against the left wall and glared at Hunter. Behind me, Wrecker snored and slept in one of the three rack beds.
Hunter, Crosshair, and Tech turned to me. Hunter opened his mouth and then closed it. Tech went back to his datapad. Crosshair glared.
I spun around and climbed into the tail gun. I curled up in the seat. I listened to the hushed argument and drifted off.
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Tag Number: CT-5292
Nickname: Morgan
Rank: Clone Lieutenant
Gender: Female
Appearance:
Hair: Back length wavy black dyed hair that is usually put up in a low knot but she tends to wear her hair down down when she's on leave
Eyes: light brown eyes and slightly droopy due to a lack of sleep because of her insomnia
Complexion: fair skin with heavy scaring around her torso
Height: 5'10 (standard Yuval-clone height)
Build: slim but athletic due to training
Outfit: She wears the standard clone trooper armor but painted black and with dark purple accents like the crudely painted Tooka on her left shoulder armor.
Personality: Quiet and serious and would only show her caring side to those she considers her friends and family which isn't very big. Pretty ignorant of the civilian world
Weapons: 773 Firepuncher Rifle, a pair of DC-17 hand blasters, EMP grenades, thermal detonators, stun baton and shield
Background Story:
(Practically the same as Prin’s the whole Yuval-clone thingy just a little different-ish, if you are curious you can check it out here)
Like her sisters, Morgan is cloned from the mysterious 'mercenary', Noemi Yuval, to become excellent soldiers, only to fail and pass as above average compared to the typical soldier.
Morgan had fought in the battle of Geonosis and lived to be the only survivor among her squad mates, making her realize the price of war from early.
By the time the Battle of Arantara was initiated, Morgan had been immediately reassigned to another squad that was later betrayed by their sergeant who was leaking information regarding battle tactics to the enemy, causing the droid forces to ambush the squad. By the time reinforcements had arrived to rescue the Morgan's squad, none of them save for Morgan who sustained serious injuries made it out of the field alive, though it fractured her trust in her fellow comrades.
Despite her failing trust in others,it was during her recovery from Arantara where Morgan met a fellow Yuval-clone and sister named Prin, a Clone medic, who later shared a close bond with Morgan.
#prin-ct5290#clone trooper#clone trooper oc#roleplay#oc rp#my ocs#oc#the clone army#the clone wars#star wars#morgan-ct5290#Yuval-clone#Yuval-clones
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@tyefights, odelia kon’tsfiya: so we’re arms dealers again?
❝ technically. it's what the council requested, not me. they're afraid if we engage with them head-on, the blaster fire will spook the civilians. we need to do this quietly and indoors, preferably sneaking back in after they think we've left. master windu's suggestion. ❞ most of the time, she turns down the council's offers for assignments. she cites her busy schedule as one of them, signing up for guard duty whenever possible. this war isn't her fight. it isn't the jedi's fight either, but those are mere thoughts— unspoken opinions that never leave her mouth. but this seemed too good to pass up. undercover and with her best friend? sold within a heartbeat. (perhaps the council was beginning to learn their method of working with their sluggish jedi: bribery.)
briefcase in her grasp, a republic military-grade 773 firepuncher rifle resides inside: their bargaining chip for the initial meeting. a way to scope out the inside of the building, get an understanding of what they're walking into and dealing with. stripped of their jedi robes, they appear as any underworld coruscant people— deceiving in looks. a glance is taken downward at the briefcase and then, her gaze is directed back toward odelia.
❝ okay, let's go over the plan again— for my sake. show up at their front door, pretend we're arms dealers, sell the rifle, say our goodbyes, sneak back in, capture their leader, grab the rifle again, and bring him back to the temple for questioning— conspiring with the separatists using republic military bargaining chips. easy peasy, right? besides— guess who came prepared. i have the blueprints of the whole building, all floors, top to bottom. i know exactly where the air ducts lead to, and i know exactly where our man varon is. ❞
she's proud of herself, and if her tone didn't speak it, the shit-eating grin across her face did. it also calmed her nerves. a plus-plus.
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773 Firepuncher Rifle
Summary: Crosshair has given you a simple and specific order: get yourself off on his rifle, and make it messy.
Pairing: Crosshair x Reader
Reader Description: Reader is female, and uses she/her pronouns. This fic does not include any descriptions of her appearance.
Word count: 2.1k
Tags: Gun kink, Friends with benefits, Smut, Grinding, Teasing, Mutual masturbation.
(gif credit: @kybacrystal from this post)
"What do you want?" you grumble as you enter Crosshair's room. He spam-messaged you, pinging your holopad until you finally replied. All his messages were 'come over,' copied and pasted multiple times until you hastily replied with a simple 'K.'
When it comes to your private affairs, you two have to be cautious, or else they wouldn't be private affairs, would they? The Batch is a cozy bunch to mingle with, but given the way each of them flirt with you, the last thing you want to do is crush their hearts and reveal that you're already sleeping with Crosshair.
Sleeping. Nothing else. No strings attached, or whatever it was that Crosshair said when, after a couple of heated fucks, you two finally decided to sit down and talk things thought. However, that doesn't mean that you're allowed to speak to others. Oh, no. Crosshair has dragged you away from multiple potential partners whenever you've been in 79's.
But that's a story for another day.
Crosshair chuckles as he looks up at you, his back resting against the wall, sitting on his bed. He's twiddling his toothpick, brow slightly raised, eyeing you up as you quietly close his bedroom door.
"That's not as sexy as you think it is," you grumble, resting your hands on your hips as you approach his bed.
"Somebody has an attitude tonight," Crosshair states the obvious.
"Well, yeah. You were spamming me! It's annoying!"
"I'm annoying," Crosshair grins, followed by having the nerve to flick his toothpick at your chest. He scrambles up to his feet, his hands rushing forward to find your waist, pulling your body against his. You're still pouting, and Crosshair chuckles once more as he kisses the corner of your mouth a few times, then asks, "these kisses not making you smile, for once?"
"Maybe if you kissed elsewhere?" you suggest, attempting to match his playful tone.
"Mhm," Crosshair hums, debating your suggestion. "Later. I have something in mind for you first."
His lips are on yours before you can even muster a reply. As always, they're hungry, passionate, lighting a flame deep within your chest. Crosshair's hands roam from your waist, slipping down your back, and squeeze your ass firmly, enough to make you groan against his lips. You swiftly discover that Crosshair's already half hard, hidden beneath the thick fabric of his blacks, and for once, he allows you to grope his stiffening length whilst your lips remain occupied.
"I want you to do something for me," Crosshair murmurs against your lips, before dipping down to kiss along your jawline, leaving playful nips beneath the hemline of your shirt. You remain silent, awaiting his orders, and Crosshair breaks free from your neck to gaze down at you, his eyes locking onto yours as he speaks slowly. "My rifle, you're going to use her to get yourself off."
"What?" you stutter, uncertain if you've heard his words correctly.
"You heard me," Crosshair replies as he slips his hands from your ass, moving to pull his weapons kit out from beneath his bed.
With ease, Crosshair pulls his Firepuncher rifle out. It stands tall against his frame, the butt resting on his bedroom floor, whilst his hand loosely wraps around the barrel. Crosshair's subconsciously smiling as he eyes his prized possession up; his gaze then trails to you, and a single brow raises as he questions, "well?"
"You mean... like..."
"Grind on her," Crosshair shrugs. "I don't care, just make it messy."
"Awh," you playfully sigh. "Has someone started to miss me so much in battle that they need a constant reminder?" you tease, smirking deliciously at Crosshair's frown.
"You're not making this easy, are you?" he grunts. Crosshair rolls his eyes as he places his rifle on the floor, sliding her beneath your stance. As you look up from the floor, Crosshair's already taken a seat on his bed, shuffling back until he's resting against the wall.
Your hands find your hips, and you let out a huff as you roll your eyes. He is such a demanding man, but given your previous experiences, Crosshair never fails to make things up to you tenfold. If it's a show he wants, then it's a show he'll get.
The second your hands reach the hemline of your shirt, Crosshair's already smirking, pleased that you've taken him up on his offer. You don't bother with much of a strip tease; they often feel awkward, and you're not entirely sure how to undress yourself in a sexy manner. Your panties fall down to your ankles, and with a kick of your foot, you flip them up into the air, catching them, only to launch them directly at Crosshair.
It's a direct hit! Crosshair's face is scrunched up as the fabric slumps down onto his lap, and you can't help but chuckle at his disappointment. So much for being sexy, huh? He frowns at you, but from the twitch of his lip, you can tell that he's attempting to hold back a smile.
Now that you're on your knees, you begin closely examining his rifle, deciding which component is suitable for your performance. Crosshair has shown off his girl multiple times to you, and he's even granted you the 'honour' of firing her a few times. You know that right now, the safety lock is on, and she's also unloaded; she's safe, and even if she wasn't safe, you know exactly where to avoid.
Overall, the entire rifle seems sleek and comfortable to grind yourself on. There's some nice grooves along the stock and barrel, so, diving into the deep end first, you swing your leg over the rifle and settle down against the barrel.
Needless to say, this is... strange. Crosshair's rifle is cool, chilling against your skin, especially your pussy, already slightly slick at the experience. You can feel his scope pressing against your ass, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you of its presence, and remind you that this is a real firearm that you're fucking yourself on.
After adjusting your stance a little more, you slowly, and cautiously, begin grinding down on the rifle. Each ridge along the barrel ruts against your clit, sending tingles up your spine, and providing more than enough friction to satisfy your ever-growing craving. The more you grind, the wetter you get, making it easier to slide against the firmness of the rifle.
And then, finally, you look up, considering you've spent this whole time watching the weapon between your thighs. Crosshair's lips are slightly parted, eyes softened, and his cock is rapidly moving in his hand. He stops the second that you lock your eyes onto his, and the expression that sweeps across his face reminds you of somebody who's been caught doing something they shouldn't.
"How is it?" Crosshair questions.
"Different," you shrug.
"You wanna keep going?" he asks, with much concern in his voice.
To answer his question, you resume rutting yourself against his Firepuncher, and Crosshair groans at the sight. His fist picks up speed, jerking his length at the same pace as your grinding. Your eyes peek down between your thighs, and you can already see your juices slicking up his rifle, reflecting off the dim bedroom lighting.
Crosshair has given you specific orders - to make a mess of his rifle. It's only fair that you go above and beyond what he wants, right?
Readjusting yourself, you begin grinding against the stock, biting back a smile as you notice the rifle slowly becoming wetter and wetter. You're maliciously complying to his request, whilst enjoying yourself at the same time. You're free to be as messy as you want, given that you won't be the one cleaning up; kriff, maybe Crosshair won't clean up either? Maybe he really does want his rifle smelling of your sweet slick, distracting him during the heat of battle?
"Cross," you moan as your eyes meet his.
His expression softens out, lips remaining parted as he answers, "yeah?"
"You should have made me do this months ago," you tease, continuously grinding yourself down on the rifle, each ridge bumping your clit deliciously.
"And why's that?" Crosshair questions with a cocky smirk.
"She feels good," you whimper. "So good," you teasingly add, wanting to rile him up as much as possible. "Kriff, maybe next time I'll ask you to fuck me whilst I grind against her? Or fuck my mouth instead?"
"Karking hell-" Crosshair hisses through gritted teeth. You notice the sudden, firm grip around the base of Crosshair's shaft, holding back his early release. He lets out a slow, steady breath, collecting himself before replying. "If that's what you want, sweetheart," Crosshair partially stutters his reply, attempting to pull his calm demeanour back on, but that mask slipped off long ago.
By now, you've already done more than enough damage; Crosshair's beloved Firepuncher rifle is a slick mess, your juices covering the vast majority of her body. Even if Crosshair scrubs her clean, she'll still smell of you, the scent strong enough to seep up through Crosshair's helmet, making his head dizzy during future missions. Hopefully it won't affect his aim.
A sharp gasp slips from your lips as you continue rutting against the ridges on the stock, grinding down on them over and over, enjoying the firmness against your clit. You can feel your thigh muscles twitching, your stomach turning rapidly, heat rising to your chest. You're close.
For support, you place one hand on the barrel, whilst the other finds the floor. You're hunched forward, eyes scrunched shut, mouth hanging open as you let out whimpers and moans whilst your hips continue to roll. You can overhear Crosshair pumping his cock rapidly, motivated by desperation and an overwhelming sense of arousal; you look far too good, getting yourself off on his rifle. Perfect.
"Kriff, Cross, I'm gonna-" you stutter, your words turning into a whimper as your orgasm washes over you. Thank the Maker that you placed your hands down for support, else you definitely would have fallen face-first onto the floor. For some reason, your orgasm is intense; maybe it's because of the knowledge that you're getting yourself off on a non-sexual object, or maybe it's because of the new and strange sensation between your thighs. Either way, you're panting heavily as you slowly come back down from cloud nine.
It takes a while, but you eventually sit upright, resting back on your knees. You let out a sigh before mustering up the strength to stand, instantly peering down at the mess you've made. "Oh," is all you comment.
The Firepuncher is soaked, slicked up from head to toe. As for Crosshair, he's damp in his own way, white spurs of his release decorating his bare chest. His eyes lock onto yours, and both of you are blissed out in your own ways.
"Oh, indeed," Crosshair nods, eyeing up his beloved rifle. He lets out an exhausted sigh, worn out from edging himself, holding back multiple releases, wanting to climax when you did. His knees are trembling as he rises; he grabs his towel, swiftly cleaning himself up before passing the rag over to you for you to clean yourself up with.
With just his sweatpants on, Crosshair sits on the edge of the bed, and watches as you re-dress yourself. He raises a brow, and laughs as he asks, "do you enjoy it when I undress you? Is that why you're putting your clothes back on?"
"Oh? Hungry for more?" you teasingly question whilst pulling your shirt over your head.
You're met by the sight of Crosshair smugly grinning at you. His words are clear as he replies, "like I said earlier, I have more planned for tonight."
You hum, pondering the question, 'should I be mean tonight?' Crosshair notices your uncertainty, and raises a brow. You'd normally be straddling him by now, grinding yourself against his hardening cock whilst occupying his mouth with yours. Instead, you smirk, and playfully state, "you don't get to fuck me tonight. I've already enjoyed myself with your girl."
Crosshair sputters. Disappointment sweeps across his face, until he decides that you're joking; he lets out a soft laugh, chuckling as he comments, "that's funny, now c'mere," whilst patting his thighs.
"Oh, I'm serious, Crosshair," you sweetly smile. "She was so good to me, I'm all worn out," you bat your lashes, holding back a laugh as Crosshair's expression returns to disappointment.
Now dressed, you turn heel and head to his bedroom door. Just as you're about to open it, you peer over your shoulder and say goodnight. "Let her know that I'm always free for another round. Goodnight!"
And with that, you head back to your room, leaving Crosshair sitting on the edge of his bed, semi-hard, with a drenched Firepuncher rifle in the middle of his room.
Oh, he'll get you for this.
#tbbwriting#swwriting#773 firepuncher rifle#crosshair#the bad batch#f!reader#smut#nsft#crosshair x reader#tbb crosshair x you#tbb#sw#female reader#star wars
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If Crosshair were a real person, d'you think he'd've been featured on My Strange Addiction for his excessive emotional or psychological reliance on his rifle?
Or do you think they wouldn't've featured him because he's an egotistical fascist with an assault-style rifle?
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A simple nap
Crosshair x Reader
You were used to the missions your squad was assigned, but sometimes the missions were very exhausting. You decided to get some rest during the hyperspace trip, but Crosshair will more than likely wake you up for a few minutes.
The mission was exhausting, as soon as you boarded the ship you felt like you were going to fall asleep, and luckily you were able to take a nap. It must have been an hour since you fell asleep. You were sleeping peacefully in your room lying face down on your bed, and it seemed that nothing was going to wake you up. When you fell asleep you were alone in your room, but not now. Now you were Crosshair, since practically that room became his room too.
Crosshair remained seated on a metal box he was using as a chair. The box was located near the bed, but not quite next to it. He was checking and cleaning his 773 Firepuncher rifle, but despite that he took his eyes off his rifle to look at you. He looked at everything because it was his enhanced skill, his eyes were able to see everything in great detail so quickly, and therefore he loved to look at you. He would never admit that to anyone, only to you, and on almost every mission, if you were not at his side, he would always look at you with the scope of his rifle. Seeing you reassured him, more than he can admit, and also in other situations it produced other emotions, somewhat more exciting emotions.
Now Crosshair was looking at you with absolute concentration, he had stopped paying attention to his rifle and so he put it aside. He wanted to get a closer look at you, so he quietly drags the box to position it next to the bed. Your face was covered with your hair and he brings his fingers up there to gently remove those strands of hair. His fingers moved slowly and softly across your skin, it was a soothing caress and you sigh because you could feel it in your sleep. Then he leans down a little to get a better look at you. You moved in your sleep, now lying on your side. You are so beautiful, there was no doubt about that. Crosshair could really stare at you all day long, in this case until you wake up. He was patient, the habit of being an experienced sniper, but with you it was a totally different case. He could just sit there and keep looking at you, but he wanted to kiss you, at least that beautiful skin of yours.
Those desires were winning him over, so Crosshair slowly brings his face closer to yours and instead of kissing you on the cheek as expected, he brings his mouth to your neck. He starts kissing and licking you there, feeling, smelling and tasting your scent. You thought that was part of the dream, but when you touched reality for a few moments, you realized it wasn't your dreams. You obviously knew it was him, so without opening your eyes you raised your hand and stroked his silver hair behind his head.
“Cross… I'm trying to sleep…” you said with sleepy voice.
“Then stop being so beautiful”
You smile when you realize that Crosshair had no intention of stopping, so you continue stroking his hair. You still didn't open your eyes, so you could feel his kisses and licks more intensely. You were still sleepy, you couldn't react much to his kisses, but a small moan managed to escape your lips. You could feel that he had no double intentions, at all times his kisses were loving and soft, though occasionally his licks were passionate.
“You would have told me that you wanted attention...” you said softly, but your tone of voice he knew very well.
“Don't start with that tone of voice”
“What tone of voice?”
“You talk to me like I'm a Tooka”
“Oh, well, I don't see the difference…” you open your eyes to look at him.
“Hmm. I don't know if I should consider that a compliment” he raises his head to look at you.
“It's up to you…” you were smiling, and you caress his cheek with two fingers.
Crosshair rolls his eyes and looks back at you with a raised eyebrow. You kept smiling, you were still with a lazy face with your eyes barely open, and that made you more adorable to him. He puts on a small smile and does not hesitate to bring his face close to you again, but now to join his mouth with yours. You put your hand behind his head to reciprocate, and as you kiss, you stroke his hair again. Surely of all the ways he could wake you up, that was one of the best.
Crosshair wanted a more comfortable kiss, so he gets up from his seat and climbs onto the bed. Thanks to this change of position, you were lying on your back with him on top of you, and now you put your other arm around his neck while you were still kissing. You stayed like that for a moment, enjoying each other's sensation and warmth. You thought he had those double intentions when you feel he gets closer to your body and when he positions himself better between your open legs, but strangely he didn't have those intentions. He breaks away from the kiss to rest his mouth on your neck, maybe he was also lazy because of the mission, but he was playing tough?
“Are you tired, handsome?” you kept stroking his hair.
“I can hold my sleep, unlike a certain person I know” he gives you a little kiss on the neck.
“I get it, I know I lost that competition. But understand that while someone was in an elevated position without moving, I was running and destroying the droids in front of my face”
“That's not how things happened. Which of us put ourselves in unnecessary danger? As usual I had to save your ass"
“Yeah, yeah... Whatever you say. But I really think you were looking at my ass the whole time with your rifle scope"
You got him. You hear Crosshair laugh, your neck muffled it a bit because he had his mouth resting there.
“You... I knew it! ”you give him a pat on the back. “You're a bastard"
“What? I always take advantage of high positions, you should know me"
“Oh, of course I know you. That's why I knew that from the beginning"
“Then don't complain. You love being dramatic" he gives you another kiss on the neck. “You have to admit and accept that I saved your ass”
“Only if you accept that I saved yours"
“You know I can't admit something that didn't happen?”
“The future small scar on my shoulder doesn’t say the same" you stroke his hair with your fingers.
“That was the fault of your stubbornness. Besides, you won't have a scar from that wound"
“Really?” you smile.
“Hmm”
You couldn't see his face, but somehow you knew he had frowned, and you chuckle a little when you feel him pull your clothes down a little in the shoulder area to see a small wound on it. It wasn't a serious wound, but you would probably have a small scar in the future, and he gently kisses you there.
“I see someone felt guilty” you tease him, always smiling.
“Ugh. Don't start with that. This doesn’t mean that I admitted it"
“Not for you, but for me”
Crosshair moves up a little so he can see you, and your smile gets bigger as you see his raised eyebrow and typically grumpy face.
“That's not how things work"
“I know. But I know you and I know when you are sorry, when you feel guilty or when you are hiding something from me. You are transparent with me”
That was the absolute truth. Crosshair was transparent with you, you were able to notice and see how he felt because you knew him perfectly well. He didn't show his feelings easily, until he met you and you became very important to him. The fact that someone cared and knew him in such a way as you did touched him in his heart.
“That...” he sighs and lets out a little grunt. “Fine. You win. I admit you saved my ass today too”
“It wasn't that hard, was it?” you were smiling.
“Don't provoke me. I can tell how much you love to tease me. And don't look at me like that”
“Me? I would never” you said with sarcasm. “I feel offended right now"
“I can see how offended you are" he said with sarcasm too. “You're really bad at acting, you know that?”
“I know. I'm a horrible, but at least I completed my objective”
“Yeah. Your dumb ways work, sometimes”
You stare at each other for a few more moments without saying anything, without moving a muscle, until finally a smile appears on both of you at the same time, and you are the first to laugh, followed by him, at the silly scene you made.
“Sometimes we become fools, don't we?” you said with a smile.
“Say it for yourself. But yes, more you than me” he was smiling too.
“Oh, no. We're both equally foolish"
“At least you admit what you are, I'm proud"
“Hey. You...”
You couldn't say anything else because Crosshair joins his mouth with yours in a loving, yet passionate kiss. Even though the kiss was passionate and deep, it was more loving than anything else, and you stayed that way for a few moments. While you kissed, you stroked his hair behind his head, and he stroked your cheek, and you just wanted to attract that moment of closeness.
Finally you separate for lack of air and do not join your mouths again, then Crosshaor lowers his head and now rests his cheek on your shoulder. Your breathing relaxed, his breathing relaxed and you could feel that his whole body was actually relaxing on top of yours. You start stroking his head, his silver hair, and you could feel that he was relaxing even more, he had probably even closed his eyes.
“Cross”
“Hmm?”
“You woke me up because you wanted to sleep next to me, didn't you?” you were smiling.
“How perceptive, mesh’la”
“I should have known”
You were quiet for a few moments, you stared at the ceiling as you continued to stroke Crosshair's hair, running your fingers through his hair in a soft, soothing caress.
“Cross"
This time there is no answer, judging by Crosshair's breathing, he had fallen asleep in those moments you were silent. He was clearly exhausted from the start. You were touched that he had fallen asleep on top of you using your shoulder as a pillow, practically hugging you. How could he not fall asleep? He was exhausted and the feeling you were giving him was more than relaxing, you made him feel loved and safe.Your smile gets bigger and you gave him a kiss on the head.
“I love you” you whispered against his head.
Even though he was asleep, he could somehow hear you, so he put on a small smile. You start to feel sleepy too. Sleep had returned and even more so when you had Crosshair with you, so you close your eyes and fall asleep after a few seconds, hugging him.
#crosshair x reader#crosshair x you#the bad batch#crosshair#crosshair the bad batch#tbb crosshair x reader#tbb crosshair#tbb#tbb crosshair x you#clone force 99#clone trooper crosshair
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Pillowtalk (NSFW || Crosshair x Female!Reader)
A/N: No plot really, only tropes. it was supposed to be only fluff, but I got a little bit carried away.
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Series: Star Wars: The Clone Wars / The Bad Batch
Pairing: Crosshair x Female!Reader
Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Skipped smut. Fluff. Teasing. Sexual content. Mention of blood.
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You hadn't expected ending up in the same bed (and specifically yours) with a certain grumpy sniper. You've always assumed the squabbling and mocking each other were just playful jokes and nothing too serious. They are, but you both got into a heated argument. Somehow it ended up closing in on each other's personal space, then he had you pinned against the wall. The next thing you knew was you were both making out and dragging him to your room.
Now here you lie in the morning, in your tank top and underwear, on top of a shirtless Crosshair with his arms wrapped around you. Still asleep while you study the details of his face.
Such a handsome man even with the disheveled hair. Smiling to yourself, you notice there's one detail that stands out.
"I know you're awake, Crosshair." You lightly flick his forehead-an action you mimic that he's done to you before multiple times when you either annoy or roast him. He lazily opens his eyes to look at you and the time before closing them again.
You sigh, resting your chin on his shoulder, eyes still on him.
"Enjoying the view?" He teases. Eyes half-lidded and a small smirk rising to his face.
"No." You deadpan. He flicks your forehead. You yelp at the pain and glare at him. Your gazes meet each other. Your pout melts into a warm smile and he has himself smiling as well. A small one, but it's there.
He sits up, making you lie to his side. He reaches for a toothpick from the holder he placed on your bedside table last night. Another thing you hadn't expected from him was the aftercare. You'd assume he would head out after he had gotten what you both wanted. You were wrong.
"You know..." You trail off, your fingers tracing random patterns on his skin. He raises an eyebrow at you, waiting for you to continue. "I thought you would just dipped after last night."
"Did you want me to?"
"Yes." You stop him before he could get up. "Kidding! I meant no and thank you..." You look away from him, feeling the heat on your cheeks. "...for staying."
He cups your face, making you look at him, toothpick gone from his mouth. It's his turn to admire you with the softness in his eyes you don't often see. He leans in, kissing your forehead, then moving down to your lips. Gentle yet passionate affection in perfect tandem, growing needy as you continue. You both pull away to catch your breaths. He lies back down on his side, pulling you into his arms, face burying into your neck. Sleep about to catch the both of you as the moment passes. Before you could doze off, you take a look at the clock and realize you're going to be late for a spar with Hunter.
You should be getting ready right now and Crosshair with his daily routine in the shooting range.
"We need to go." You caress his cheek.
"I don't." You sigh at his response.
"I need to go." A hand on your arm stops you from getting out of bed. He pulls you again, strong lean arms trapping you underneath him, one hand locking your wrists together on top of your head.
"Crosshair."
"You can get out of this, can you? You would have if you wanted to." You didn't want to at first, but now you do for an entire different reason. You wipe the smugness out of him by doing so and having him underneath you, straddling him.
"You're right." You tilt your head at him, amused you've caught him off-guard. You feel his growing arousal as you press down on his crotch. You hold his wrists, stopping him from grabbing your hips. You tut at him.
"You don't have permission to touch me or to speak." He scowls, gripping the bedsheet, surprised as well by following your orders.
"I will leave you like this," You grind against his, earning a pant from him. "if you keep acting like a brat." Your stern voice gives him goosebumps. He has seen how dominant you are in close combat even in your fights with Hunter. His thoughts are interrupted as your hands roam from his abs to his chest. You chuckle at the intensity of his eyes at you.
"Enjoying the view?" You mock him.
"No." You dig your nails lightly into his chest, not enough to draw blood, but enough to leave scratch marks. He grits his teeth, knuckles turning white from restraining himself to touch you. You tut again.
"Did I tell you to speak?"
No response. You can feel the irritation and lust from his glare.
"Well?"
Still no response. He closes his eyes.
"Speak."
"No."
"No, what?"
"No, ma'am."
"Good boy." You coo. He snaps, sitting up, holding you in place. He pulls your hair back, exposing your neck. He stops himself before he could ruin that pretty skin of yours with his mouth. A grave mistake, he realizes this as he sees a glint of mischief in your eyes.
You hum in thought, glancing at the clock. It's going to be a long morning. Whatever excuse you'll give to Hunter can be dealt with later.
------
You're definitely late. The sparring session is already past schedule because a certain someone had to get back at you in the refresher. You're just about ready to head out of your room with the sniper, but he stops you, holding your arm. It seems he wants to say something from how his face is all scrunched up like a kinrath pup. He opens his mouth, but at lost for words, he closes them. You blush at the realization.
"Do you want to do this again sometime soon?" You speak his thoughts for him.
"If... you're up for it." You beam at his answer. He looks away and tries to stop himself from smiling. He lets go, but he halts you again when you're near the door.
"You forgot something." You're about to ask what. He already answers you by crashing his lips onto yours. He breaks away when he has you wanting for more, leaving you dazed until he opens the door, revealing a surprised Hunter about to knock. Crosshair only gives a glance at his brother as he walks away, leaving you and a confused Hunter alone.
You compose yourself and walk out of your room, closing the door behind, facing the sergeant.
"Hunter. Apologies for not being able to attend our sparring today. I was... preoccupied."
"Uh-huh. Preoccupied."
-----
Bonus epilogue(?):
Later that night in the Bad Batch's room.
773 Firepuncher lies disassembled on the table. Crosshair cleans his rifle, part by part. Tech notices something, particularly on the marksman's neck, that has been bothering him since morning. Something dark can be seen peeking out of his collar. Tech moves closer and inspects, adjusting his goggles.
"There seems to be discoloration on your skin." Hunter's ears perk up. Crosshair has his hand instinctively cover the bruise.
"Maybe he finally beat Doc's insults and she decided to deck him!" Wrecker chimes in, laughing. Crosshair rolls his eyes and tries to ignore them as he resumes his task at hand. They continue to blabber their theories.
"Doc wouldn’t hit Crosshair that would inflict harm especially on the neck. Normally, I'd say the regs would, but this does look different from a normal bruise." Tech pulls Crosshair's collar to inspect further. It only reveals more hickeys. He slaps Tech's hand away.
"Well, and there are more of them. You should have those checked with Doc." Crosshair smirks at the idea.
Wrecker clicks things into place. Wrecker slaps Crosshair's shoulder stronger than intended, causing the sniper to bend forward and drop a weapon part he's holding on the table.
"I didn't know you had it in you!" Crosshair shoots daggers at the chuckling larger man. "He's not going to need to have those checked, Tech! In fact, Doc will probably give him more!"
"That doesn't make sense." Tech states a matter-of-factly.
"What do you mean ‘it doesn't make sense’? Doc gave those hickeys and I'm sure of it."
"That's absurd, Wrecker. I highly doubt she'd-" The two keep arguing. From across them, Hunter sighs and shakes his head. Crosshair shares the same sentiment as he continues his business. Maybe a late night “checkup” wouldn’t be a bad idea.
#my writing#hopefully not ooc#star wars#the clone wars#the bad batch#crosshair x reader#crosshair x you#hunter#tech#wrecker#sw#tbb#tcw#fanfic#fanfiction
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Congrats on 501 followers!!!! can i be cheeky and ask for the prompt 'jealousy' with Tech please? any gender reader, nsfw or sfw, i dont mind! I'm curious to what that man would be like when he's jealous <3
blueprints and green hints
Tech x gn!Reader; fluff and bastard!crosshair | w/c: 703
501 follower prompt list - [2] jealousy
Warnings: brief use of rifle but not really, tech wants your attention!
A/N: this is an honour rats, thank you
'This is news to me,' Tech interrupts your conversation with Crosshair, having spent the last minute watching you two interact.
'Hmm?' you acknowledge his presence with a slight tilt of your head, though your eyes and focus are trained on a makeshift target through the scope of the sniper's 773 Firepuncher.
Tech watches you line up your shot before clarifying. 'I was not aware that you wanted to learn how to use a sniper. Much less one with Crosshair's configurations.'
You abandon your stance, shifting the rifle so that you are holding it with both hands in front of you. You shake your head in a laugh, 'Definitely not. Just wanted to look at the modified components.'
Crosshair raises his brow at Tech, who minutely shrugs in response.
'It's bigger than I'm used to,' you tell the sniper, handing the rifle back to him—and by then it's too late to retract your words.
Crosshair's eyes flit to his awkward brother in the doorway, so quickly that you almost don't catch it. In amusement, the sniper smiles wickedly at you, hoping to stir a reaction from Tech. 'That may be the case with a lot of my components,' he drawls.
His intentions are not lost on you, however, and you glare at him before punching him in the shoulders—it hurts you more than him with the plastoid protecting from the force of your bare fist. Still, it earns you a laugh from the sniper, and you can't help but want to share that childish laugh typical among siblings. But it does not look that way to Tech.
Tech moves to separate you and Crosshair, attempting to cease your burst of giggles. 'You simply could have asked me to show you the modifications,' he interjects between you, 'after all, it was me who designed a large number of them. I can show you the blueprints if you wish.'
'True,' you attempt to calm down, your hand finding purchase on Tech's shoulder to stabilise yourself. 'But I thought it would be cool if the sniper himself showed me,' you throw finger guns at the man in question, 'thanks, Cross.'
Tech casts a glance at the sniper, who smirks at his brother before turning to pack up his weapons kit. 'My pleasure, ram'ser,' Crosshair snarks, savouring the way Tech's eyes bulge through his goggles at the name. To Tech, it seems too endearing.
Crosshair departs shortly after, leaving you to the rest of your work with Tech.
'I was not aware that you and Crosshair had nicknames for each other,' he frowns, questioning the interaction he had witnessed.
'Oh- Cross was just joking, I'm happy with just using my blasters,' you laugh lightly, pulling up a chair for Tech if he insists on being there while you work. He sits beside you while you return your attention to your tasks.
'You are calling him 'Cross',' he specifies, and you don't exactly understand why that comes as a surprise to him.
'Don't you all call him Cross?' you muse, diverting some attention from your work to Tech as you try to decipher his sudden interest in your camaraderie with Crosshair.
'Yes, but we are brothers.'
You shrug nonchalantly, 'Crosshair's like a brother to me.'
Tech gives you a silent nod in agreement, mulling over his thoughts as you work next to him. He speaks up after a few seconds of silence, 'What am I to you?'
Oh. Now he has your full attention.
You swivel your chair around to fully face him. If you didn't know any better, you would have taken his seemingly blank expression as non-committal or apathetic. But you do know better. He might not say it, or be aware of it, but Tech is jealous. It's a little cute. He was vying for your attention earlier.
'You, Tech, are my favourite,' you reassure him, scooting your seat closer to speak to him in earnest.
When he doesn't seem convinced, you sigh, standing up from your seat. 'Where are you going?' he asks you, swiftly following your steps away from your desk.
'C'mon,' you offer a hand to him, nodding your head towards the door, 'I'd like to see those blueprints you mentioned.
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