#The Bad Batch Fanfiction | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

decembermidnight · 6 months

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Don't lose your focus

Summary: As a Jedi Padawan fighting during the Clone Wars, you and your Master are used to teaming up with Clones. But none are as intriguing as Clone Force 99 and their leader, Sergeant Hunter. Sparks fly immediately and it's difficult to keep your focus. With the mission complete, perhaps the two of you will finally give in and indulge in your desires...

Pairing: Hunter x Jedi!fem!reader

Word count: 5.7k

Warnings: smut, 18+ MDNI, Dom!Hunter, use of pet names (sweetheart), shameless flirting, mentions of alcohol consumption, masculinity kink, voice kink, light choking, hand kink, body worship, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, orgasm delay, creampie

A/N: This is the result of me watching The Bad Batch while ovulating. This is (probably) not how the Force works but your honour I was horny. Thank you to my dear @thefrogdalorian for the immense help and support! I love you so much! Amazing divider by @saradika-graphics At the end of the fic you'll find the links to some amazing Hunter fanarts I found here on Tumblr! These were such an inspiration when writing and I wanted to thank and credit the artists for creating such amazing pieces!

Masterlist - Read on Ao3 - Read Part 2 here!

Another day, another dangerous mission in the Outer Rim.

Nothing new for you and your Master who are used to leading these missions successfully. The only difference is that this time you'll be assisted by Experimental Unit Clone Force 99. It’s the first time you even heard about them, but your superiors assured you they’re best suited for this job. A highly-skilled squad of defective clones with desirable mutations? Sounds interesting.

Apparently, The Bad Batch, as they call themselves, despise rules and protocol and adopt unusual methods to get the job done… Much like you and your Master.

Their ship has just made a bumpy landing on the field, causing a fuss. You watch curiously as the squad descends the ramp. There are four of them, and they undoubtedly look badass in their black armour.

The first one – their leader, you assume – removes his helmet and... damn. Damn. He's hot, with a confident look in his deep brown eyes. He also has long, wavy, dark hair; a feature which has always been a weakness of yours. His face is half covered in a tattoo that resembles a skeleton. He's undoubtedly the most charming of the Batch, and also the most attractive clone you’ve ever come across.

“I’m Sergeant Hunter,” he rasps as he greets you and your Master. His voice is deep and husky, very different from those of all the other clones you’ve met so far.

After introducing himself, Hunter moves to quickly describe the peculiarities that make each of the members of the team unique. As you stand back to observe them, you can’t help thinking just how much fun they are. Wrecker (the strong one) is getting reluctantly lectured by Tech (the smart one) while Crosshair (the laconic and lethal sniper) stands there in silence. He reminds you of your Master so much.

As much as you enjoy observing the rest of the squad, you find your gaze returns to Hunter, the clone with enhanced senses. You are unable to tear your eyes away from him. You know you have to keep it together, but you can’t help eating him with your eyes. Your gaze lingers on his body, on the way his pauldrons make his shoulders even broader, how much the black colour of his armour suits him.

You have just begun fantasising about the way his strong body would look without the armour when you notice Hunter staring directly at you. Busted. You lock eyes for a few seconds and you just know that he understands the nature of the thoughts you’re having about him. Then, your pounding heart skips a beat when Hunter winks at you. It is a split-second gesture that is over so quickly amidst the chaos of the conversation, a little secret between the two of you. You smile flirtatiously at him in response.

The whole group begins heading towards their ship, The Marauder. While the rest of the Batch and your Master head up the ramp towards the ship that will take you to the rendezvous point, you and Hunter pause at the bottom.

“I’m afraid I haven’t caught your name, sweetheart?” Hunter asks, breaking the silence with his deep, raspy voice.

"I am a Jedi, not a sweetheart," you point out teasingly and look at him with crossed arms, trying to sound tough.

"A Padawan," he reminds you with a smirk on his face.

You watch curiously as Hunter takes your braid – the unmistakable sign of your rank as an apprentice – between his fingers. He gently rolls it between his gloved finger and thumb contemplatively as his brown eyes meet your gaze once again.

"I technically outrank you, Sergeant," you say, challenging him.

"You do, Commander," Hunter nods, but makes no effort to move his hand away from your braid, or to interrupt eye contact.

Hunter can tell that you don’t mind the gesture. As if to push the boundaries further, he moves his hand from your braid to gently place it on your cheek. The leather of his glove feels soft against your face. You are stunned that a seasoned soldier such as him can actually be so gentle in the way he touches you.

You can feel the tension coming from the two of you, a simmering fire somewhere deep within. It's only a matter of time before it boils over. You look at each other straight in the eyes, neither one of you daring to look away.

Just as you're about to tease him with yet another witty reply, you hear the sound of footsteps at the top of the ramp.

"Hey, Hunter, are you gonna come with us or what?!" Wrecker shouts, abruptly interrupting your shameless flirting.

"On my way," Hunter replies, without breaking eye contact with you.

His intense gaze lingers on you for a few more seconds before he looks at you apologetically and turns to head up to the ramp and onto the Marauder.

As soon as Hunter turns away from you, you realise just how hard your heart is thundering in your chest. His gaze was so intense that it made you forget to breathe properly. So much for the Jedi breathing techniques. It turns out if there is a handsome man with dark eyes flirting with you, they lose all effectiveness. You take a deep breath, filling your burning lungs with oxygen.

When you enter the ship, you are still trembling. As you take a seat next to your Master, you try to ignore his accusatory glare. You feel his eyes burning into your soul as the guilt threatens to overwhelm you, even though nothing too scandalous happened.

As the Marauder enters hyperspace, your Master takes a seat on the cold metallic floor in an isolated area of the ship. Meditating before battle is a ritual he always follows and you immediately join him. It can help you shift your focus back to where it should be – on the mission. Only, you can't focus.

Instead of your mind becoming one with the Force, you're highly attuned to the actions of the members of the squad. It is as though you can see them as if you were standing before them: Tech studying the holo-maps, Crosshair cleaning his sniper rifle, Wrecker taking a nap, and of course, Hunter. He is mindlessly playing with his vibroknife as he slouches on a crate.

You are entranced by the way his fingers move across the handle and the blade. Maker, the movement of his hand and fingers – you can't focus on anything else as he makes the knife masterfully swirl between them. There's something so erotic about the way he plays with it. Your mind wanders to think about his hands roaming on your body, slipping between your thighs, skillfully rubbing your clit. You fantasise about how quickly Hunter would make you come, how hard your orgasm would be as it tore through you, leaving you a trembling wreck.

Your focus then goes to his muscular thighs. Hunter’s legs are spread wide and he looks so effortlessly masculine. The aura of confidence he radiates as he comfortably sits there, taking up the entire crate as he lounges on top of it, gives you even more thoughts that are unbecoming of a Padawan. It makes you almost dizzy with want as you think about how much you want to straddle him and ride him into ecstasy.

“Are you done?” your Master’s cold voice interrupts your filthy train of thought with a brief and concise message through the Force.

He heard your thoughts. Each and every single one. Your Master caught you red-handed. How embarrassing.

You are too mortified to even mumble an apology, through the Force or otherwise. Instead, you sit there wishing you could be anywhere else in the galaxy as you feel the heat rise in your cheeks and pull your hood up to hide your flustered face in your cape.

Luckily, before the awkward moment can continue for any longer, Tech announces the imminent jump out of hyperspace. You still cannot bear to make eye contact with your Master, shrinking into your blessedly baggy cape as you begin the descent into the planet’s atmosphere...

The mission was a success – you and your Master worked your magic with the precious support of Clone Force 99. What seemed like a desperate operation, turned out to be an extremely important victory for the Republic. Training with your Master has been so hard, but damn did that pay off. You slayed all your enemies elegantly and effortlessly, just like he taught you. The whole Bad Batch congratulated you two. Wrecker was especially impressed, electing the two of you as his favourite Jedi. What an honour. Hunter also invited you and your Master to celebrate the victory by having a drink all together in a cantina.

Just as you’re about to enter the cantina and join the Bad Batch, your Master calls your name. You stop in your tracks, scared that he might reprimand you for the way you acted today. You begin panicking and thinking back to what happened in guilt…

When you and your Master had taken off your heavy capes before engaging in battle, you noticed Hunter couldn't keep his eyes off you. You were wearing a skin-tight dark suit, after all.

It was a fact you decided to exploit after Hunter had given his squad their orders for the mission. You walked away swaying your hips, making sure you gave him a great opportunity to look at your ass. You remember how you could feel his eyes glued to it. You could also feel his desire for you. It was impossible for him to hide; it permeated him, radiated from him. Maker, you love making him crumble.

You think back to the way Crosshair rasped, "Hunter, don't lose your focus.” You are certain that is what your Master is about to scold you for.

Instead, you watch in shock as a half smile appears on your Master’s face, something you don't see very often.

“You did good today. I’m proud of you,” he nods.

Since when does your Master pay you compliments like this?

“Th-Thank you,” you stammer, caught off-guard by how unexpected his praise is.

“You fulfilled your duties as a Jedi. Now, go and have your fun.”

You don’t have time to respond before he turns on his heel and walks away, cape billowing in the breeze. You know your Master doesn’t often like to stick around after missions, often needing some quiet time to himself to decompress and meditate. You let him go, knowing that he will find his way back to the Marauder before it departs, as he always does.

As you step into the Cantina, a smile spreads on your face when you notice the Bad Batch sitting at a table with a full flagon of booze and an empty seat for you to toast your success. You and Hunter lock eyes again as he invites you to sit in that spot close to him.

Hunter loses no time in placing his arm around your shoulders while smiling at you. You lean into his embrace, feeling comforted and protected. The warm presence of his arm around you makes you smile contentedly. It feels so good to let the guard down for once, especially if you're in the arms of a handsome, strong and charming man such as Hunter.

As the night goes on, the three other members of The Bad Batch keep conversing with each other, giving you and Hunter the opportunity to speak privately. It’s as though the background noise fades out. You don't even bother focusing on the discourse the others are having. It’s just you and Hunter flirting shamelessly now.

“You know, I've never seen a ship like yours. I wish I had time to properly explore it... Thoroughly," you flirt with him while draining the last few dregs in your flagon.

"Want me to give you a tour, sweetheart?" he says with a smile on his face, perfectly understanding your intentions.

"Would be cool, yeah," you reply.

Hunter offers you his hand and you gladly accept it with a mischievous smile.

Just as you stand, you feel the alcohol has definitely kicked in. You’re not drunk though, just a little bit tipsy, enough to make you brave and go get exactly what you want.

As soon as you and Hunter get out of the cantina and find yourselves alone in the dark alley, you both give into the instincts you tried to suppress all day long. Hunter pins you to the wall as you pull him closer at the same time, until you join in a passionate, longing kiss.

You welcome his tongue in your mouth as his hands wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him. His touch and the way he kisses you are so confident that you clench around nothing, holding him tighter as you moan in his mouth. Maker, you want him. His whole body jolts when he feels that, pinning you harder against the wall, mentally cursing the armour that is preventing him from feeling the softness of your body against his.

He stops kissing you just so he can look at how stunning you are under the moonlight, hot and flustered after that first, heavy session of making out.

"Look at you. So beautiful," he whispers as he cups your face with his hand, the other one still lingering around your waist. Hunter is treating you like the most precious thing in the galaxy now that he can finally have you all for himself. You lean into his gentle touch as he takes in all the features of your face, especially the way your eyes glimmer with admiration and arousal for him.

You look at his deep, dark and expressive brown eyes and the strong, masculine features of his face that make you throb with need. Your hand caresses his cheek, following the lines of his skeleton tattoo and the contour of his chiseled jaw. He observes you as a sweet smile appears on your face, making you look irresistible and drawing his lips closer to yours once again…

"Hey! Where's Hunter?!" you hear Wrecker shout from inside of the tavern, just as your lips are mere inches apart.

You and Hunter both laugh as you resume the kissing. It's like the whole galaxy stops existing. For a soldier who has seen nothing but war, his kisses are to die for. Your tongues twirl in each other's mouths and it's like his greedy lips can't ever get enough of yours. His mouth is hot like a damn furnace as he takes all the time in the galaxy to worship you with his lips, letting his hands wander throughout your body. You're getting soaked already, feeling your arousal slowly dripping down your legs as a throbbing need pulsates between your thighs. You moan in his mouth as you dig your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. The kiss is getting deeper and more passionate as you go on.

Hunter's lips start to trail down to your neck, making you sigh deeply as he covers it in kisses. Your scent drives him wild. He can smell your pheromones, feeling you're unmistakably full of desire. He can't resist and just gives a swift lick from the base of your neck to your ear that makes you sharply stifle a gasp, arching your back and tightening your grip on his hair.

"Let's go to the Marauder, shall we?" he rasps in your ear, a voice full of lust that gives you goosebumps.

"Y-yes…" you stutter, feeling light-headed with arousal and being incapable of hiding it.

He offers you his hand as you enter the ship. The two of you cut a clumsy path through the Marauder towards Hunter’s bunk, frequently taking breaks where Hunter desperately pushes you against the cool steel walls of the ship, your arms clinging tight to his shoulders and his face buried in your neck.

"Maker... Take off your armour," you plead as his teeth dig into your delicate skin like a feral beast would do with his prey.

He does, letting each piece fall to the ground as you go on kissing each other, leaving a trail of armour pieces on the floor as you slowly make your way towards his bunk. He looks stunning with just his tight black suit on. You take in the broadness of his shoulders, the way his pectorals stand out, highlighted by the tightness of the suit and grope the strong muscles of his biceps. Oh, fuck. How much do you love a man. Tall, muscular, strong, confident, with dark eyes and a head full of long, wavy hair. A Man.

You moan in his mouth when you feel his thick biceps flexing under your touch. A smile forms on his lips as he feels how much you like this. As his arms wrap around your body, yours go in his hair. Maker, how safe do you feel in his arms. It's such an innate instinct – wanting to be held in the arms of a strong man, surrendering and trusting him, something that usually you would never be permitted to do in your life as a Jedi.

You can feel his erection against your lower belly, straining against his extremely thin black suit. His fingers hook in the hem of your pants, yanking them down over your ass, exposing your drenched cunt as he sits you down in his bunk.

He kneels before you, taking your boots and pants off and spreads your legs, his dark eyes looking into yours as a smirk appears on his face.

"Hunter–" you sigh.

"Wanna get you nice and ready for me, sweetheart," he coos as he starts to kiss your inner thigh.

The vision makes you tremble with lust and your hands helplessly clench into fists in a desperate attempt to grab the material under you to keep you steady. Your legs shake but he keeps them steady in his strong arms. He goes on trailing kisses on your inner thighs without ever stopping looking at you. He's taking his time with it, wanting to enjoy the way your whole body is throbbing with need. Your breathing gets more and more shallow as his mouth gets closer to where you want him the most.

You lift your gaze from Hunter’s dark brown eyes, shutting your eyes for a mere fraction of a second, trying to alleviate the aching need you feel. Hunter chooses that moment to finally give you what you need. With a quick lick to your clit, your whole body jerks into his touch and a whimper escapes from your lips.

Hunter smirks up at you, the corner of his mouth lifting upwards in a smug, satisfied look. Then, he proceeds to bury his face between your legs and masterfully lick your swollen clit. His tongue brings you so much pleasure that your back arches involuntarily, pushing yourself further into his mouth. You moan his name and grab a handful of his long, thick hair. He purrs in your cunt when you entangle your fingers in his hair and you notice how his grip on your legs becomes tighter.

"Oh... Oh fuck!" you exclaim in ecstasy, barely able to form words.

One of his hands releases its grasp on your legs, which he has been using to keep you spread open for him. You throw your head back gasping as he slowly slides two of his thick fingers inside you.

"So tight," he growls with a smirk on his face.

Hunter pumps his fingers inside of you, slowly increasing the rhythm, ensuring that you’re stretched out for him. It is a motion that brings you so much pleasure you wonder how it could possibly get better. Your whole body jerks in pure bliss under his touch. He enjoys looking at you like this, you can see it from how darkened his eyes are with lust.

For a brief second, his fingers and mouth leave your cunt, leaving you devastatingly empty. You watch in awe as Hunter sticks them in his mouth, without breaking eye contact with you. He sucks on his fingers, humming while closing his eyes to savor your taste from places where his tongue can’t reach.

"You taste so good, sweetheart," he rasps as he resumes fucking you with his fingers.

He watches you contort under him, moaning and begging for him to return his skillful mouth between your thighs. Your hips thrust up and down right in front of his face. You are shamelessly fucking yourself on his fingers, inviting him to bury his face back in your folds. You desperately bury your hands in his hair in an attempt to pull him closer.

"Damn, you're so beautiful like this," he says before his mouth goes back exactly where you wanted.

Then, Hunter does something absolutely devastating. While he continues licking your clit, he starts sucking it gently, all as he continues pumping his thick fingers inside of you. Hunter wants to draw an orgasm from you, his actions becoming more and more frantic as you grow closer to your climax. He can feel by the irregular way you breathe and shake that you're close.

"Yes. Yes. Like this. Let go, sweetheart," he encourages you.

It's only a matter of seconds before you come, writhing under him. Your legs are wrapped around his head, squishing it. You scream his name so loud it echoes in the Marauder. Hunter is pleased as he looks at your blissed-out expression and feels your cunt clamping around his fingers. Your back arches as you ride your orgasm, pushing yourself further into his tongue so you can feel him licking you through your orgasm. Hunter purrs into your cunt, loving the way you let go around him. He loves how his face is getting soaked in your arousal, so addicted to the way you taste.

Hunter holds you steady as your orgasm fades out. When you regain your senses, you slowly release your grip on his hair. Only then he props himself up and slowly unzips his suit, showing you the beautiful golden skin underneath. A warm contrast under the black, tight layer.

The dark hairs on his chest are perfectly trimmed, accentuating each of his toned muscles and the tattoos which decorate his thick, masculine body. Your gaze is locked on his hand trailing down his abdomen, his muscles rippling as he approaches the hem of his pants.

You shamelessly look at the bulge in his dark suit, a sight that makes your mouth water. Hunter’s lips curve into a smirk once again, noticing that you like what you see. The smug look on his face makes you throb with need once again, despite the fact that he just gave you an intense orgasm.

He hooks his thumb in the hem of his pants, watching intently for your reaction as he slowly pulls the material down to reveal the trimmed, dark hairs around the base of his thick cock.

Hunter notices the intense way you look at it and hears the whimper you just tried to suppress in your throat. He can feel your heart rate going up. It makes him smirk confidently as he goes on, finally freeing his hard, thick cock. You gulp while looking at it, as he uses the same fingers he had buried in you to cover it in your arousal. He gives it a few, firm strokes to ensure it’s nice and wet for you. The mere vision of it makes you bite your lip to muffle another impatient whimper.

Then he is on you, peeling your shirt away from your quivering body, rejoicing when he can finally touch it and worship it with his mouth. Hunter trails kisses across your collarbones and down towards your breasts. He swirls his tongue around the sensitive flesh there, before softly biting your nipples. You gasp when you feel his erection hard against your cunt. He starts to thrust his hips against yours so his cock can rub against your drenched core, getting it soaked in your juices. Your mind turns completely blank at that, heart thundering in your chest as his hands roam across your body.

Hunter aligns himself to your entrance, groaning as his cock slowly makes its way inside of you. You admire his restraint. You know how much he probably wants to take you with one thrust, but instead he is being so gentle and careful with you, making sure that you are well-adjusted to his size.

He takes your jaw in his hand, looking deep inside your eyes as his thick cock stretches you open. You struggle to keep eye contact with him, unlike earlier when you were flirting with him. Now, your eyes only want to roll backwards. The pleasure you feel as he splits you open is overwhelming your body and senses.

You pathetically try to mumble some incoherencies, but he's quick to shut you up with a kiss. Hunter growls low in his throat when he feels your walls desperately clenching around him, as he buries himself into you to the hilt.

"Fuck, sweetheart, you feel so good," he rasps, almost desperately before giving you another wet kiss. Then, he raises his hips only to bury his cock deep inside you, making you moan into his mouth.

"How – how can you feel so fucking good?" he whimpers.

Hunter’s large hands gently cup your face, as he continues placing passionate kisses against your lips while thrusting into you. You notice his kisses become more desperate as he slowly increases the rhythm. As Hunter picks up the pace, he buries his face in your neck, panting low in your ear.

You are certain that he can’t go any faster, before he proves you wrong. He increases the pace to a brutal rhythm, fucking you so hard you start screaming.

"So loud,” he rasps, “They're gonna hear us in the Cantina."

"Then make me shut up," you whisper daringly.

A blaze of lust glimmers in his eyes as you lay down that challenge. Something shifts inside of him as he gives you a feral, animalistic look. Hunter quickly covers your mouth with his hand, showing you his more dominant, commanding side which makes you clamp tightly around his cock.

"Oh, you like this," he smirks, satisfied that this is precisely what you wanted all along.

You nod frantically. There is no use hiding how much this turns you on. Despite how much Hunter shows care towards you, you suspect there is something darker which lingers below the surface. You want to draw it out of him.

"What else do you like, hm?" he coos as he wraps his other hand around your throat, lightly choking you, his thumb rubbing your throat possessively.

The sight of you, looking so vulnerable under him as he can finally dominate you makes him frantic with lust. Gone are the measured thrusts and even rhythm of before. Something feral has overtaken Hunter, a desperate need to claim you. He continues silencing your moans with one hand around your throat and one across your mouth, muffling your gasps as he wrecks you with his cock.

Having Hunter's hand muffling your own moans gives you the opportunity to hear his desperate grunts and pants as they mix with the obscene, squelching sound his cock makes each time he thrusts into you. You close your eyes in bliss, enjoying this moment of pure pleasure.

"Can't keep your eyes open for me, sweetheart? Look at me with those pretty fucking eyes," he growls.

You can't help but whimper at that, at how authoritative he sounds. The Sergeant of The Bad Batch is dominating the fuck out of you. You are a moaning, gasping mess beneath him, unable to think about anything other than how good being furiously pounded by him feels.

"I didn't catch that,” Hunter rasps as he slowly lifts his hand from your mouth. He leans down to put his ear against your mouth “What were you saying, sweetheart?"

"L-let me – fuck!” you gasp, too blissed out to form words.

“Use your words,” Hunter commands, slowing his thrusts down so you can finally speak.

“Let me touch you!" you beg, unable to care about how desperate and pathetic you sound. All you can think about is roaming your hands around the warm, firm expanse of his body.

Hunter smirks, intrigued by your request, only too happy to oblige you. He grabs your hand roughly by the wrist and positions it over his abdomen. You can feel his muscles flexing and contracting under your touch as he thrusts into you. His body is as hard as iron and on fire like a damn furnace, burning with lust.

"Maker…" you whisper.

You let your hand trail up to his firm chest. You grope his pectorals, appreciating the firmness of his muscles. Your cunt clenches around his cock at the sight of your hand against his golden skin. A smirk appears on his face, enjoying what he does to you.

Your hand goes up to his broad shoulder, rubbing over it before you move your hand towards his back. You feel how his muscles strain there with each thrust as he continues pounding into you at a relentless pace. Both of your hands are now caressing his back, feeling every single dimple under your fingertips. Just as you try pulling him close, he starts to give it to you even harder. You scratch your fingernails along his back. You watch in awe as Hunter moans in your mouth at that.

"Could–could fucking smell how much you wanted me earlier. You distracted me the whole time. Couldn't think of anything else besides how good you'd look with my cock inside of you,” he rasps in your neck before biting you, growling wildly as he does. “I was so fucking hard for you, sweetheart," Hunter grunts.

He's so feral for you, fucking you so hard. You can't even mumble a response.

"Smell so good – so fucking good–" he whispers in your ear.

"D-don't s–stop," you mumble in your cockdrunk delirium.

"I can't, sweetheart. This cunt's all I ever wanted,” he growls, “Gonna make you mine. Mine."

"Oh, fuck… Yes," you pant as he props himself up, kneeling in front of you without stopping that devastating rhythm for even half a second.

He looks at your body, at the way your boobs bounce with each thrust as he gives it go you even harder, holding on tight to your legs, using them as leverage to bury himself even deeper inside of you. Seeing him like this makes you remember just how badly you wanted to ride his cock earlier.

"Hunter. Hunter. I want to ride you," you whimper.

"Is that an order, Commander?"

"Y–yes. Yes. Order. S–s-sergeant," you mindlessly go on as he keeps thrusting his cock inside of you.

The thought of you bouncing on his cock makes him throb. In an instant, Hunter lifts you in his arms as if you were weightless and makes you straddle him. He sits with his back against the wall of the bunk. His hands are on your waist and you immediately start rocking your hips up and down, giving into your fantasy from earlier.

"Such a good soldier… So good at following orders," you whisper against his lips.

"Yeah… Sometimes," he smirks before gripping your hair and stealing another wet, hot kiss that makes you melt into him even further.

Your head rolls back in pleasure at the way his cock feels from this position. It's devastating, hitting something deep within you. You almost lose yourself in that feeling, but Hunter won’t allow you to. Even though you are on top of him, Hunter is quick to remind you who’s in charge as he takes your jaw in his hand.

"Eyes on me," he orders firmly.

"Yes, Sergeant," you moan.

You swear you feel him throbbing and choke a grunt when he hears the sensual way you pronounce his title. Clearly, using his rank in this context has done something to Hunter. He moves his thumb between your lips and you suck it provocatively, never stopping yourself from meeting his gaze. Hunter’s pupils widen at the sinful way your lips envelop his finger and your tongue gently touches it. His eyes take into your sensual, precious beauty, before bringing you to him and kissing you again.

Your bodies are damp in sweat and rubbing against one another. Your nipples deliciously catch against his hairy, broad chest. You continue moaning into each other's mouths; your tongues never stop touching.

"Hunter, I'm gonna come–" you whimper.

"Hold it for me, sweetheart," he rasps in a sweet, yet dark voice, having the opposite effect from what he intended.

"Please, I want to come on your cock," you plead desperately.

"Not yet," he smirks.

Hunter grabs your hips and guides your movements so that your clit starts to rub against his pelvis. You let out a loud moan as you hold on to him tighter, digging your nails in his shoulders.

"I can't hold it!" you scream with your eyes shut.

He grabs your chin in his hand, clearly uninterested in your desperate appeals.

"Look at me," he says firmly as you open your eyes. Your vision is too blurry to focus on him but you try nonetheless.

"Now come for me, sweetheart," he rasps darkly.

You obey his order and come hard around his cock. An overwhelming, intense wave of pleasure starts at your core and completely takes over your body. You’re wrecked by uncontrollable shakes as Hunter holds you in his strong arms. You scream and pant as you ride your high. Your eyes roll backwards while Hunter focuses on how beautiful you look when you lose control. Especially when he is the one responsible for it.

Hunter feels your heart running in your chest and every single contraction of your muscles around his cock. The unmistakable, heady scent of sex that fills the Marauder drives him insane, making him burst inside of you. He grunts loudly as he fills you up with his load, holding you tight in his grasp.

You moan in each other's mouths, your forehead leaning on his as you look into each other’s eyes. You never leave each other’s gaze as you both give into the highest of pleasure.

As you come down from your high, your rhythm slows down until it stops completely. Your bodies are intertwined like vines, naked and sweaty as you catch breath in each other’s embrace.

You really do make a great team, after all.

Fanarts: Hunter's back + Shirtless Hunter by @mesvi Hello handsome by @corukant Wet Hunter by @iszapizza Hunter under the shower by @shakall Hunter and his vibroknife by @ve-ti-ver Hunter under the shower by @cloned-eyes Hunter taking off his shirt + Tech by @constant-brain-fog Hunter taking a shower by kaijurave (on twitter/x)

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cc--2224 · 5 months

Text

I'll Show You Heaven

Pairing: Crosshair x F!Reader

Summary: Crosshair was always someone of interest to you, much to the other clones’ dismay. When he hears a Reg disrespecting you, he doesn’t hesitate to step in. You were told that there was no point trying to fix him, but you knew you could handle dangerous; although it turned out that to you, he wasn’t dangerous at all.

Warnings: This is very much 18+ Minors do not interact! Alcohol and smoking mentions; drunk clones being assholes including one putting the reader in a dangerous/uncomfortable situation but nothing happens! Smut - masturbation, Crosshair having dirty thoughts, oral (m and f receiving), biting/marking, unprotected p in v - wrap it before you tap it!!, praise kink, one instance of Cross being too rough but he corrects it, porn with feelings, language, tons of compliments/pet names, jealous maybe slightly protective Crosshair

Notes: Very slightly based on the song I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)

Word Count: ~6.4k

Taglist: None, let me know if you'd like to be added!

Masterlist

It was just another day. The haze of smoke lingering in the bar, the loud laughter and chatter amongst the patrons, and him.

You had gotten to know most of the regulars at 79s, including Clone Force 99, but you never made it a point to become their friend. The clones, usually drunk, would flirt with you endlessly, but never the 99s. They kept to themselves, and you had learned over the months that they weren't very popular with the others.

You hadn't considered there were social hierarchies among the clones, but you supposed they were no different than any other group of people.

You traced the smoke back to the tall, silver-haired man. He sat at one of the tall tables, not quite facing the bar, but enough that you could see his sharp features silhouetted by the pulsing lights.

He never looked pleased to be there, he seemed to have a permanent scowl, and you couldn't even recall a time where he said more than three words at a time, and none of them kind.

And while these might be negative traits to most, but to you, these traits mixed with his deep brown eyes that you had caught on you once or twice, and the smirk that came along with it, the expression of an all-too-confident man, only helped to draw you in to him.

You had a feeling that he was one to put up a front, wall himself in so that he didn't appear vulnerable. it made sense for a soldier, but there was a part of you that wanted to see what he was like when the walls came down.

"Hey! Cyar'ika!" You heard from behind you, you turned to face the clone holding his glass up to you. "You gonna give me a top up or stare at the reject squad all night?"

You rolled your eyes and turned to him too quickly to see the sharp glare of the man you were just staring at point at the rowdy clone. After refilling his glass, you set it down in front of him and gave him a warning, "Everyone is welcome in my bar, and everyone gets attended to while they're here. Understood, trooper?"

Before he could answer, you walked toward the centre of the bar, making a point to keep an eye on all your patrons so they wouldn't also get the wrong idea about who was getting more attention. Your eyes naturally wandered back to where the 99s were sitting, briefly meeting with the same brown eyes you had been silently admiring just moments ago, the tattooed crosshairs outlining one of them perfectly.

He turned his head back toward the rest of his squad but you could almost see him glance at you through the corner of his eyes at least once before you were called away again.

"Y'know what?" The loud clone called out again, "I think you should just come home with me. I could make you forget all about them." He jerked his head toward the 99s.

"And I think you've had too much to drink." You chided, ignoring his request for another top up.

"C'mon," He groaned. "If you're gonna cut me off, you should at least make it up to me. Wanna come home with a real man? I bet those 99s could never measure up to us if you get my meaning. Whattaya say, copikla?

Several clones laughed at his words, your Mando'a wasn't perfect, but based on their laughs, you assumed it wasn't nice.

Before you could get security to kick him out, you heard a chair scrape against the floor and then the crack of knuckles on flesh. You didn't even see the tall clone cross the bar before he was laying into the loud one.

You ran out from behind the bar and tried to pull him back, as much as you didn't want to, you also didn't want him to be permanently banned either.

Once he noticed you pulling his arm back, he stopped.

"What's going on?" One of the security guards had come over, hearing the commotion.

"Nothing," you said before gesturing to the floor, "He had too much to drink. Best if he goes home."

The security looked at you carefully, making sure you were okay before helping the clone to his feet and walking him out of the bar.

You sighed and returned back to where you were standing before, watching the other clones glare but cautiously move out of the way of the 99.

He started walking back to his table before pausing and turning to look at you, his features almost seeming softer now.

"You didn't have to cover for me." He said, a toothpick lodged between his lips.

You shrugged, "He was getting on my nerves, deserved the punch if you ask me. As long as you’re okay, I’m okay." You smiled up at him.

You could handle yourself, you've been working at 79s for a while, you knew how unruly people could get when alcohol was involved, and as much as you could handle people yelling at you, you didn't like when your regulars hurled insults at groups who were just minding their own business. Especially when, to your understanding, they got enough of that back on their homeworld.

He hummed in response.

"Can I get you guys anything?" You asked after a brief silence had fallen.

"No, we're heading out. See you around." Almost on cue, the rest of his crew stood up and began to leave.

— — —

“You shouldn't have done that.” Hunter warned him quietly when they had returned to the Marauder.

Crosshair shoved past him to get into the ship.

“Regs will always take each other's side, if you get reported for starting a fight…”

“Again,” Tech chimed in.

“I'll deal with it if it happens. Regs are probably too drunk to remember anyway.”

“Why'd you attack him, anyway?” Wrecker asked.

His eyebrows furrowed, “Didn't you hear him? He was treating her like his little pet.”

The others looked at each other, seemingly sharing the same thought between them.

Hunter's voice didn't betray his thoughts, “Even still, you should go back and apologize. Probably scared the poor girl.”

Crosshair rolled his eyes at Hunter's order.

“No promises.”

He went to his bunk and discarded his armour, laying on his bunk in his blacks. He couldn't seem to get your face out of his head. The way your eyes met, how you took his side even though his squad was right, he did start the fight. Your smile when you made sure that he was okay.

This wasn't the first time he had seen you, but it was the first time the two of you had ever spoken; he didn't do small talk, Hunter and Wrecker did.

But he wanted to talk to you again, he wanted to see you again, see you smiling up at him.

The more you crept into his thoughts, the more he couldn't get you to leave.

Eventually with the solitude of his bunk, his thoughts got the better of him. He imagined how you would look, naked and squirming under him. How you'd taste, how you'd feel around him.

He couldn't shoo these thoughts away, he found himself palming his cock over his blacks at the thought of you taking it into your mouth.

He had been with others before, but it was rare for him to feel like this. Usually when he’s with someone it’s just to get his own release, but thinking of you was different. He wanted to make you come, to hear you cry for him, to feel you come on his cock, on his fingers, whatever you’d allow.

He wanted you, all of you. And he couldn’t stand the thought of some Reg pretending to flatter you just to get you into his bunk. You deserved better than that, you deserved someone who would treat you right, make you feel good, someone who could be good for you. Someone like him.

He reached his hand into his blacks, pulling himself out and stroking it. He let his mind continue to wander, imagining everything all over again as a loop. He thought of your voice, telling him how good he was, telling him how he was made for you, how no one else could satisfy you like him. He thought of marking your neck, your tits, your thighs.

As he began to reach his climax, he stroked himself faster, he thought about filling you up with his release, he didn’t know where, whether it was your throat or your cunt, he just knew he wanted to come inside you.

This thought sent him over the edge as he spilled out over his hand with a groan.

He knew it wasn't right to think this way, he didn't even know you, but he also knew there was no way for you to know what was going through his mind.

But would it be so bad if you did?

— — —

Something about his expression when he finally came back to the bar was different than it had been a few days ago. Not bad by any means, just not how he normally looked.

Part of it was likely due to the fact that he was in civilian clothes instead of his armour, nut most of all, his ever-present scowl seemed softer, and he didn't wear a smirk when he noticed you looking at him, instead he almost seemed nervous.

He walked toward the bar and sat on one of the stools, scanning to make sure none of the gathering clones were the one from a few rotations ago.

"Can I get you something?" You asked him with a smile.

He blinked like he still somehow wasn't expecting you to talk to him after what happened, but then shook his head. "No, nothing."

He sighed, looking down at the counter in front of him. "I wanted to..."

You looked at him, eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

"My actions the other day, that wasn't okay."

Your face softened into a small smile. "Don't worry about it, nothing to apologize for."

"Did the Reg apologize to you?"

"Oh, no I haven't seen him, but like I said, nothing to apologize for. I'm used to it." You told him nonchalantly. His gaze snapped up to meet yours and his eyes narrowed.

"Used to it? Being drunk doesn't give them an excuse to be assholes to you." His voice raised slightly.

"Really, it's fine. I'm just sorry you had to hear him talk about your squad like that for so long."

He laughed quietly and used your words back at you, "We're used to it."

Neither of you said anything for a bit. You worked on pouring another glass for one of the other patrons at the bar and then turned back to face him.

"I see you guys around here often, but until the other day, you and I have never spoken, I'd like to change that.” your kind smile at him caused his heart to pound in his chest, but when he didn't answer, you continued. “You have a name, trooper?"

"Crosshair."

You smirked then told him yours.

"Where's the rest of your squad today?"

"They stayed back, wanted me to make sure you were okay. But since you are, I should be going."

He was out of the stool and heading toward the door before you could convince him to stay. He needed to clear his head, it wasn't like him to feel so reserved and shy, but he felt your presence hammering on the walls he had built for himself and he didn't know if he was ready for them to come down.

You watched him as he left and smiled to yourself. Was he really concerned about your opinion of him so much that he came all the way here just to apologize? Or maybe he just wanted to make sure the other trooper kept his distance. Either way, seeing him was always a treat, and now you had a name to go with his face.

"I'd be careful of him." One of the clones said, pulling you out of your thoughts.

"What do you mean?"

"Clone Force 99 isn't known for following rules. They have the highest success rate out of any squad, but the way they complete their missions goes against most protocols we have. That one, Crosshair, he's their sniper, a dangerous one at that, and definitely not a friendly sort of person, someone you don't want to get on the bad side of. Not someone you can just fix with that pretty smile of yours."

You listened to him as he warned you, but even still, Crosshair and his squad intrigued you. You wanted to get to know them better.

Crosshair had caught your eye from the moment you had first seen him, and now the gap between you was finally starting to close.

You wanted to be his friend, but you were also curious about being more than that. You wanted to see what he was like when the two of you were alone. Was he sweet? Was he demanding? Was he some mix of both?

You wanted to know what his lips would feel like, what he would taste like, how he'd feel. Thoughts that sparked a flame in your core. You didn't know if you'd ever get an answer to any of them, but the world worked in mysterious ways.

— — —

Once everyone had cleared out and you got some cleaning done, it was finally time to go home.

It was late, too late to be wandering around the understreets of Coruscant alone, but you knew the most direct way back to your apartment, and had a blaster set to stun, just in case.

You turned down the alleyway, and you saw a figure push itself off the wall and walk toward you.

"Awful late, isn't it?" You could hear the faint accent of a clone, and the audible slurring of one that had too much to drink.

"Come on, copikla, let me walk you home."

He stumbled toward you. When he came into the light, you could see the black eye that Crosshair had given him, still purple and blue despite the days that had passed.

"I'm fine, thank you."

"Don't be like that, I wanted to apologize and do something nice for you. C'mon." He got closer to you and you felt your hand shake as you reached for your blaster.

"There's no need for that," He told you when you had the blaster fixed on him. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Then go back to your barracks, trooper."

He smirked, "Y'see the other day, your friend from the reject squad, he gave me this-" He said as he pointed to his eye. "All because I gave you a compliment, so really, you o-"

Before he could finish his sentence you saw a blue bolt whiz past you, hitting the clone and stunning him.

You turned to see where it came from and at the other side of the alleyway, Crosshair stood with a pistol drawn.

He walked toward you, "He hasn't had a very good week." He pointed out, looking at the clone on the ground before bending down to look at his armour, looking for his identifier.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting his ID. He'll probably be sent back to Kamino for a while for breaking protocol."

He brought his comm up to his face. "Tech, I’m sending you coordinates and a trooper ID, arrange a pickup."

"Copy." You heard the distorted voice through the comm link before Crosshair began typing in numbers.

"You seem confused." He said, looking at you now.

"I thought your squad didn't care about rules and protocol."

He smirked, "Regs have been talking about us, huh? That's true, we do our own thing and don't take orders very well but.. we wouldn't put a civ in danger in a dark alleyway, he should have known better."

"Well, thank you for helping me, but.. how did you know I'd be here?"

"I didn't. After I left the bar earlier, I went back to our ship, but there aren't many places there to think quietly so I went for a walk."

"I see. I guess it's a good thing you were here. I have a blaster for my own safety, but I froze." You looked at the gun in your hand and sighed.

"Don't worry about it, the Coruscant guard will be here before long to deal with him.”

He turned on his heels and began walking away and you watched him before looking down.

“Crosshair?” You called out before he could get too far.

He turned to look at you again but didn't say anything.

“I'm not too far but.. could you walk with me? I just…” You trailed off looking at the stunned clone at your feet.

He walked back over to you, “Of course.”

He was silent for the remainder of the walk, but he walked with you to your door.

"Would you like to come in?" You asked as you punched in the key code.

"You sure?"

You nodded and the door hissed open, you walked in, followed by Crosshair.

He looked around your place, it was small but it was inviting.

He knew he should have just gone back to the Marauder, but part of him wanted to make sure you felt safe, and another, much more hidden part of him thought that if you had invited him in, maybe his thoughts of you hadn't been as one-sided as he thought.

"Make yourself at home." You told him.

He sat on the small sofa in the living room, his arm draped over the back, and you stared at him, remembering what the clone had said at the bar. If Crosshair really was someone to look out for, you didn't see it. You would even go as far as to say that he was being kind to you.

"Like what you see?" He asked when he caught you staring at him, his tone slightly huskier now that he was indoors.

You rolled your eyes, and walked over toward the couch, sitting at the opposite end from him, but turned to look at him.

"What does copikla mean? I know cyar'ika and mesh'la because I get those a lot from the regulars, but that guy was the only one to call me that."

He looked at you and frowned slightly. "It means cute, but in a way you'd say to a child or a tooka kit, not a woman. That Reg wasn't paying you a compliment when he called you that."

"I see. And that's why you jumped him?"

"I had enough of him long before that point, but yes."

You didn't notice that as you spoke, the more distance had been closed between you and Crosshair until your knees brushed lightly.

"What if it were a compliment?" You asked.

"I guess it depends on how you reacted, if you weren't comfortable." His eyes bore into yours now. "But you seem to like the compliments from the Regs."

You shrugged, "As I said earlier, I'm used to it."

His hand moved toward you, gently caressing your face. You could feel the calluses on his fingertips brush against your skin and you leaned into his touch.

"Would you react the same if I complimented you?" He asked, his voice a little more than a whisper.

"You could try." You answered. “See what happens.”

His hand traveled down to rest on the side of your neck, with his thumb stroking your jawline.

He shifted slightly closer to you, eyes half-lidded. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you were certain he could hear it with how quiet it was in the room.

Crosshair leaned over to you and looked into your eyes, looking for any hint of hesitation, and when he didn't find any, he pulled you into a kiss. It wasn't demanding, but it wasn't gentle either. You could tell that this is what he had been thinking about when he said he had to clear his mind.

Neither of you had been sure if the other wanted this, but when your lips connected, you both figured it out.

His tongue pushed into your mouth and he swallowed the moan you gave when you tasted him.

His other hand had made its way over to you, resting on your waist. Your hands rested on his chest at first, but slowly wrapped around the back of his neck, drawing him closer.

He sat back to look at you, leaned against the arm of the couch, lips starting to swell, pupils dilated, and he smirked.

"You're beautiful." He told you. You knew he was trying to get a reaction from you, but his voice was sincere.

You could feel yourself getting warmer, and your stomach beginning to coil with the dull ache you felt between your legs.

You slid off the couch and gently took his hand, pulling him up with you.

He seemed confused for a moment, so you clarified.

"Figured you'd want somewhere a bit more comfortable."

His smirk returned, "Presumptuous of you."

"If I'm wrong, we can continue to sit here."

"Oh no, you’re not wrong. Lead the way, mesh'la."

You had heard the Mando'a compliments so many times they didn't even feel like real words to you, but Crosshair saying it brought new life.

When you didn't move, he leaned in to kiss you, but you ducked out of the way and began walking to your room.

He watched you walk away, slightly offended when you dodged his kiss, but that disappeared when he looked at your hips swaying, beckoning him to follow you.

When you walked into your bedroom, you turned on the lamp beside your bed before sitting with your back to the pillows, watching the door for him.

He entered slowly and you finally took a good look at him. He seemed much taller in your apartment than he did at the bar. You eyed him from head to toe, feeling your core clench slightly when you noticed the raised outline of his crotch straining against his jeans.

"Come here," you said, your voice low.

He walked around to the end of your bed, crawling over you with one leg on either side of your ankles.

"Closer." You breathed.

He moved upward, hovering parallel to your hips, eyes fixed on your core.

"Good boy,." You praised him. You didn't expect him to groan at that, but as if something ignited in him, he dipped down, kissing your stomach, then your hips, and moving down to kiss your thighs before hooking his fingers into the waistband of your jeans, looking up at you to ask permission.

"Yes, please, Crosshair."

He worked your jeans and panties off in one fell swoop, throwing them to a corner somewhere once they were off. You gasped when you felt his lips on your upper thigh, slowly trailing higher.

You arched your back slightly, desperate to feel him, but he smirked against your leg, biting into the soft flesh, before kissing the mark he had left.

He moaned when he felt your fingernails scratch against his scalp, trying to guide his head when you needed him.

He left another mark on your other thigh before licking a stripe from that mark all the way to your centre.

Your back arched again, pulling his face closer to you.

"You like that, mesh'la?" His voice vibrating against you.

"Y-yes!" You threw your head back in pleasure when you felt his tongue circle your entrance before swiping up between your folds, tasting all you had to give him.

"G-good boy, keep... keep going."

His hands found their way to your hips, holding them in place, you were certain that he was going to leave bruises on each one but you didn't care.

His lips clasped around your clit and he sucked so hard you saw stars, and then he went back to using his tongue, circling the bud slowly, trying to pull every moan from you that he could.

"Say it again." He said against your centre.

"Say what again?" You teased, knowing exactly what he wanted.

"Call me a-" He licked you up and down again, not finishing his question.

"Oh, you want me to call you a good boy?" You asked sweetly.

He rutted his hips against the bed as his tongue dove into you.

You cried out his name. The intensity of him drinking you up had begun to build and with it, you could feel yourself beginning to come undone. You were so close, you could feel your walls clench around his tongue, and he pulled it out.

You looked down at him in time to see his hand slide down from your hip, and he planted two fingers inside you, curling them against your walls.

"Go-good, you're so good, Crosshair, know just what I want."

He groaned, grinding against the bed again before adding another finger, drawing a cry from your lips.

His thumb took over for his tongue against your clit as his long fingers worked on opening you up. He placed gentle, yet desperate kisses wherever he could, nipping at your soft flesh.

"Cro-Crosshair I- I'm so close."

He sucked another mark onto your thigh and groaned when he felt your hand tighten around his hair.

Your hips bucked as you felt yourself get closer and closer to your release.

"That's it, come all over my fingers." His voice coaxed you further, "Let me feel you."

His tongue went back to your center, working circles around you again as your walls continued to clench around him.

It didn't take much else to pull the orgasm out of you, you cried out his name as you came undone, legs twitching and hips bucking as he continued to work you through it.

He pulled his fingers out of you, and kissed your center once again before leaving a trail of kisses up toward your neck, slowly lifting your shirt as he went before it, too, was thrown into the corner of your room. He nipped and kissed the sensitive skin, leaving you another mark before kissing your jawline and lips once more.

He was perched above you, leaning on one of his elbows while he straddled your hips, his jeans doing little to hide the feeling of his stiffness pressing into you.

“How was that, beautiful?” He asked you, a smirk plastered on his face.

“Perfect,” you replied. “I think you deserve some attention now too, for being so good to me.” He bucked his hips involuntarily into you.

He brought his hand up to cup your face. His fingers still wet from your slick. He rested them against your lips before pushing them past. You moaned against his digits as he pressed them against your tongue, making you taste yourself. You circled each of his fingers with your tongue before sucking on them gently. He pressed his head into where your shoulder and neck meet as he reluctantly pulled his fingers out of your mouth, thinking of nothing else but how your lips would feel wrapped around his cock.

“Do you want me to fuck you, cyar'ika?”

“Gods, yes, but first I want to taste you.”

His cock twitched against his jeans.

“I didn't know you could read minds.” He said, his voice low.

“I can't, I just know how I want to reward my good boy.”

Before he could say anything else, he got up from you and sat back on his heels, undoing the button on his jeans, and unzipping them just enough to relieve some of the strain.

You sat up and crawled toward him, resting your hands on his thighs, looking up at him for any sign of discomfort before you pulled on the waistband.

“You know, it's not very fair that you're so covered and I'm not.” You told him with a mischievous glint in your eye.

“No? Well, we can fix that.” He quickly pulled his shirt off before throwing it aside, revealing his toned chest. Your hands brushed against his abdomen and he sighed. You began idly tracing the outlines of his muscles and scars, and he took your chin between his fingers and tilted your face up to his, kissing you gently at first then with more passion. You felt him bite your bottom lip and you moaned into his mouth. Your hands glided across his skin before finding the waistband of his jeans again.

Without breaking the kiss, he helped you to disrobe him, and when you pulled down on his briefs, he sucked in a breath, feeling his cock spring free.

You looked down at it and instinctively parted your lips slightly, feeling your pussy clench around nothing in anticipation.

“You just going to stare at it all night?” He asked you.

You shook your head, “Can't wait to taste you, to feel you fuck my mouth.”

You saw his cock twitch at your words and you looked up at him with a smirk. “Is that what you want?”

Instead of answering, he laced his fingers through your hair, guiding you down toward him. You were bent over, using your elbows for support with your ass in the air.

“I could get used to this view,” Crosshair said. You didn't have to look up to know he was staring at your ass, but you pulled his gaze back to the back of your head when you kissed the side of his length. His breath hitched at each gentle kiss you gave him, and you heard him try to subdue a moan when you licked a stripe along the vein at the bottom all the way to the head, cleaning up any pre-cum that had already begun to spill out.

“F-Fuck,” He sputtered.

You peered up at him through your lashes and his grip tightened around your hair, trying his hardest to not buck his hips and force himself into your mouth.

Your tongue swirled around his head before you took it into your mouth.

He whispered your name as he guided you further down onto him, and you took him inch by inch.

You couldn't fit him all, you felt yourself gag slightly when he got to the back of your throat, which earned another moan from him, and you wrapped one hand around whatever had been left out.

“Gods, you're taking me so well, wanna feel you gag on me again.”

You moaned around him as he began using your mouth. He bucked his hips into you as he brought your head further down onto him. Your throat closed around him once again and you felt tears prick in the corner of your eyes.

You ran your tongue across the bottom of him again, bobbing your head up and down on him, swallowing around him, sucking on him, all while he was bucking his hips into you.

His thrusts started to quicken, becoming slightly more erratic, and you gave a warning tap on his leg, you couldn't take him that quickly. He understood and slowed down.

“S-Sorry, beautiful, didn't mean to hurt you, I'm just getting close..”

You removed your hand from the base of his length and gently caressed his balls as you continued bobbing on his cock.

“Gonna make me- I'm gonna come down your throat if you- if you keep that up.” He said between pants.

You hummed around him and kept going. You felt him begin to tighten up and you could hear quiet curses fall from his lips.

He moaned your name as your cheeks hollowed out around him. He stilled inside your mouth, and you felt hot spurts of him hit the back of your throat. You swallowed everything he gave you before pulling off of him, a trail of saliva keeping you connected to him for a moment longer before you sat up on your knees.

He was breathing heavily and when he looked at you, you could still see his eyes full of lust.

“Cyar'ika,” He breathed out. “You are so incredible.”

You leaned forward to kiss him before you felt yourself fall back onto the pillows with him caging you in with his arms.

His kisses were hungry, he pushed his tongue into your mouth, tasting himself and you on your tongue.

“Want to fuck you. Want to be so good for you.” He said almost into your mouth. “Want to hear you scream my name as I come inside you.”

His words elicited another moan from you, and he took the opportunity to push his tongue between your lips again.

His cock began pressing into your leg as you felt him getting hard again.

“Crosshair,” you said quietly. He stopped and looked at you, afraid he might have crossed a line. “Lie down.”

He got up from on top of you and rolled onto his back as you moved to straddle his torso.

You kiss him gingerly on the lips, and then his neck. You felt his hands come up and rest on your hips.

“You gonna be good for me?”

He nodded quickly. You kissed the tip of his nose before positioning yourself above his cock. He bucked his hips once trying to close the distance.

“Patience.” You told him before sinking down on him.

Heaven.

That was the only word that could describe how he felt inside of you. His eyes screwed shut, your tight walls felt like they were suffocating his cock as they fluttered around him and he needed to feel more of it. You threw your head back and he tightened his grip on your hips. You sunk yourself down slowly until he had fully disappeared into you.

Once you had adjusted to how he felt, you moved your hips against him as you leaned over him, seeking out his lips. He kissed you back with fervour as his hands slid around to your back and he bucked his hips to meet your movements.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him back up with you. His face was buried in your chest when you straighted your back, and you could feel his lips press against your breasts, and then his teeth.

You moaned at the feeling, rolling your hips into him faster. His hands glided along your skin back to your hips. He held them tightly as he lifted you off of him slightly before shoving you back down.

“Fuck, Crosshair!” You cried, feeling him even deeper inside you.

He groaned as your walls constricted around him again, this time when he lifted you off of him, he had nearly pulled out completely before slamming himself back in.

You panted out quiet curses as you tightened your arms around him.

“This okay?” He asked you as he did it again.

“Yes, gods, you feel so good. Want you to fuck me harder, feels so good.”

You didn't need to ask him twice. His hands slid up to your back as he eased you down on the bed before putting his hands on either side of your head.. He used his knee to push your leg up, opening you up more for him.

His slammed himself all the way in again, each thrust seeming to reach further and further. Your hands fell above your head and he used the opportunity to grab both of your wrists with his hand, pinning them above you as he drove himself into you again at a brutal pace, relishing in the way your tits bounced with each of his thrusts.

“Gods Crosshair, being such a good boy for me,” you panted.

His lips landed on your neck, kissing you then biting you, leaving another mark on the soft skin.

“You're marking me up so well.” You said as he gave you another love bite just above the last one.

“Gotta make sure everyone knows that you're mine, make sure that trooper knows who you belong to.”

You arched your back with a moan, just as he thrusted into you. With his relentless pace, you knew you wouldn't last much longer, his words were only sending you further over the edge.

“Getting so close, Crosshair,” you said between thrusts.

He answered by bringing his free hand down to rub circles around your clit.

“Come on my cock, wanna feel you come, wanna hear you scream for me.”

The coil tightened again, he felt your walls squeezing him and his breath hitched.

“I'm gonna come with you, angel,” He told you. “Tell me where you want me.”

“Inside, I want to feel you fill me up.”

His grip on your wrists tightened as his pace with his other hand quickened, pulling moans from you with each thrust.

“Pl-please, I'm so cl- so close,” you whined, getting more desperate for your release.

He knew that he couldn't keep going for much longer as his thrusts became more erratic, but he was determined to wait for you.

Your moans grew louder and you clamped around his cock more with each thrust. The build up was getting to be too much, until eventually the knot in your stomach came undone, you screamed his name as your orgasm finally crashed over you.

“That's it, just like that,” He said, his hand moved from your wrists to intertwine his fingers with yours as he thrusted as far into you as he could, spilling into you, painting your walls with his his release.

You both stayed as you were, panting, looking into each other's eyes and then his lips came crashing down onto yours as he pulled himself out of you.

“You're incredible,” you told him, completely blissed out.

“So are you.” He buried his face in your neck, not moving from on top of you.

“Shower?” You asked, and he sighed and nodded into you.

“Please.”

He got up off you and took your hand, waiting for you to lead him.

“I take it you liked the compliments.” He said, more of a statement than a question.

“Hm?”

“Unless that’s how you always act when a clone compliments you.”

You shook your head, “No, that was reserved only for you.”

He had a smug smile as you began to walk to the fresher with him in tow.

“Can't wait to see what the others say when you walk into the bar, with my marks all over you.” He said, grabbing your hips from behind, pulling you back toward him.

“Well, not all over me, but there's still time, if you're good.”

You escaped from his grip and he all but dragged you into the refresher.

#tbb crosshair #crosshair bad batch #the bad batch #the bad batch fanfiction #tbb fanfic #crosshair #bad batch crosshair #crosshair smut #crosshair x reader #crosshair fic #the bad batch fanfic #the bad batch x reader #crosshair x you #crosshair x reader smut #tbb crosshair x reader #the bad batch smut

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letsquestjess · 5 months

Text

One, Two, Throw - Part 1 (Hunter x F!Reader)

Summary: You look incredible throwing Hunter's knives, and he decides to show you just how irresistible you are.

Word count: 1.5K

Warnings: Smut! 18+! MDNI! Fingering. It's Hunter-is-horny hour!

A/N: This is my first time writing smut and I'm a little torn between feeling proud and wanting to hide in a corner. Anyways, if people enjoy it, I'm down for writing some more.

Part 2

-- -- -- -- --

“There you go,” Hunter encouraged, his touch on your waist warm and reassuring. His breath ghosted your nape as he leaned close to your ear. “Concentrate on the target and visualise it landing where you want to hit. Feel the weight of the knife, the way it balances in your hand.”

“If there was an enemy in front of me, they’d have got me by now,” you chuckled, glancing over your shoulder to offer him a mischievous smirk. “I know what to do, we’ve been doing this for hours.”

With an amused glimmer in the flinty brown of his eyes, he stepped back and signalled for you to proceed. He had to admit there was a certain charm to witnessing your determination. You had a particular look in your eyes, a fire that didn’t burn or destroy, but kindled the very core of who you were, and it brought him an indescribable joy.

You returned to the target as you shuffled your feet in the grit and lifted the weapon. Your stare lingered on the silhouette framed by the shrubbery of the back garden. Scratches and dints marred the pale outline, hitting almost every place other than the one you wanted. You’d even managed to land a strike on the groin, which had earned you an instinctive wince from the sergeant.

“Don’t strangle the knife,” Hunter cautioned as you were about to make your shot. “It needs to move.”

Coughing pointedly, you rolled your shoulders. Hilt over blade, it rotated and revolved until lodging itself into the wood inches from your intended destination with a deliberate twang. You let out an irritated huff.

“Keep trying,” Hunter said. “You’re getting better.”

“Seems like I’m getting worse.”

“You trust me, don’t you?”

As you recovered the knife, you granted him a firm nod and a warm grin.

Again and again you tried, each attempt glancing off the edge or striking a non-fatal spot. It felt as though you would never take it down. Despite any doubts, Hunter’s constant reassurances kept your confidence from faltering.

He asked a couple of times if you wanted to stop, but you adamantly refused. After all, you had suggested this to experience his world before he chose to settle down, and you were starting to understand him more.

He rarely spoke about the hardships he and his brothers faced during the war or the difficulties he encountered after Order 66. As curious as you were, you didn’t want to pry. Although you had been dating for over a year, you understood that lightly encouraging him to talk was more effective than poking at his past.

Hunter observed you with the intensity of a hawk, studying your posture, your fortitude, your concentration. By the stars, you looked amazing with a vibroblade in your grasp, staring down that wooden silhouette. Every time you squared your stance and locked onto your target, a flood of adrenaline travelled up his spine and exploded with anticipation as you unleashed your shot. In his ravenous gaze, you were magnificent.

Sneaking closer, he inched his hands over your waist as you readied yourself for your next attempt. His lips swept behind your ear, planting a trail of kisses on your exposed skin.

“Want to offer more tips?” you asked.

He shook his head against your neck and continued his ministrations.

“I see, you’re trying to throw me off,” you figured.

“In dangerous situations, there will always be distractions,” Hunter reasoned, his hips pressing into your rear and his enjoyment of the situation immediately becoming apparent. “You need to be able to block them out.”

“Oh, so the enemy will be getting up close and personal.” You gave him a tantalising, raised eyebrow, almost bordering on mean, the sultry lilt in your tone even more so. “Is that what you meant, sergeant?”

As if in a blur, he swiftly disarmed you, snatching the knife from your grasp and launching it. The vibroblade quivered in the chest of the wooden target.

Before you could catch your breath, he twirled you round and lifted you up, balancing you in his arms and latching his lips onto yours as he strode with purpose back into the cottage.

Your hands found purchase in his hair as he nudged open the bedroom door and lay you down on the bed.

“Such a tease,” he murmured, breaths intermingling between kisses.

His mouth moved slow and deep, savouring the scent of you and your mounting arousal as his tongue explored your lower lip and slid inside. Tasting him like this had you tilting your hips, and he let out a low chuckle as he guided them back onto the fluffy bedspread.

“Hunter,” you groaned.

“Do you have any idea how good you look with a knife in your hands? Never seen anything so tempting.”

When you searched his eyes, you found nothing but pure devotion in them, an unyielding desire to be by your side for as long as time allowed.

“You never gave up,” he continued, undressing you languidly and lavishing any stretch of skin he exposed. “I’m proud of you. You stood there, determined. Fucking incredible.”

His kisses grew hungry as he finished unclothing you and discarded his own clothes, throwing them behind him with reckless abandon. He’d clean them up later. For now, all he craved was you.

You smoothed his dark waves from in front of his face as he climbed back up to your lips. He slid his fingers between your breasts, massaging and playing with each in turn before he trailed lower. To say he was skilled with his hands would be an understatement; his caresses were gentle yet firm, creating masterpieces of bliss on your skin. With every inch of contact, your breath caught in your throat, a soldier’s hands but a loving touch, and a silent ‘I love you’ lingering within.

Need gripped you and your nails dragged down the ridges of his chest and abdomen, lifting your hips to get him to explore the one place that ached for his talents. This time, he skipped the teasing and dipped a finger into the wetness between your legs, finding his way to your clit. With each circle he traced, he delighted in the enticing sounds you made, grinning mischievously as you pulled away to gasp, your head pressed against the pillows.

When he gently slipped a finger inside you, your whimpers became moans. You didn’t know how much longer you could hold back from begging him for more, but you did your best. You knew how he loved making you feel good and working you up for him, and you wanted to let him have this.

Hunter soothed the dip of your brow with a tender press of his lips, gazing at you as though you provided him with the air he breathed. He’d never tire of seeing you like this, sweat dappling your skin, body lifting and falling with each wave of pleasure. He craved to etch this view behind his eyelids to look at whenever he closed his eyes. “That’s it,” he whispered, spurring your rising bliss with another finger.

“I need…” You swallowed and released a purposeful breath.

“Tell me, sweetest,” Hunter cooed. “What do you need?”

His fingers worked their way in and out while his thumb circled your clit. Your core lit up and your hips chased the motion. You couldn’t stop it, even if you tried, and this time, he didn’t ease you back down with a steady hand. He let you grind against him, hunting that sensation only he provided as his hard desire pressed against your abdomen.

“Need you,” you whined. You brought him down for another kiss, determined for him to devour every single one of your senses.

“All in good time.” He curled his fingers and brushed that particular spot that had you panting and squeezing your eyes shut while his other hand prowled up and down your body in slow, deliberate caresses. His kisses turned feverish before his teeth nibbled at your throat and a rumble purred in his own.

He could smell you, you realised, the scent of your pleasure only heightening his own desire to sink into you.

The hunger within you built as he quickened his pace and your climax thundered ever closer. “Hunter, I…” you breathed. “I’m so…”

“Can feel it,” he practically growled into your neck as your pussy clutched onto him, the tip of his nose brushing yours with every thrust of his fingers. “Let go. I’ve got you.”

That was all you needed, those three words spoken with such security and tenderness, and the tightening coil in your core snapped. White hot seared through your veins and covered your body in pure bliss as he coaxed you through your high. As your pleasure reached its highest point, you gave a soft groan, your nails digging into his shoulders to ground you.

Hunter kept you afloat, his movements inside you slowing. He hushed your whimpers and kissed the corner of your lips as you panted. “That’s my girl. You good?”

“Better than good,” you managed to get out. “Maybe I should practice knife throwing more often.”

You smirked at the muffled vibration in Hunter’s throat as his eyes fluttered shut, and you could almost see the image of yourself wielding his knives imprinting on his mind.

“Later,” he assured you. “We’re nowhere near done here yet.”

I'm going to start a separate NSFW taglist since I know that it's not for everyone. If you would like to be added, feel free to send me a message (18+ only).

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dindjarindiaries · 5 months

Text

Borrowed Time

summary: You can’t stop staring at Hunter during a mission, and little do you know just how distracting it is for both him and you.

pairing: sergeant hunter (tbb) x reader

tags: canon-typical violence, light angst, kissing, fluff

rating: T

word count: 3.786k

main masterlist • hunter masterlist

“All right.”

Hunter’s voice, modulated by his helmet, broke through your silent reverie as you finished your weapons check. You looked up to face him and instantly, your jaw locked up. This certainly wasn’t close to the first time you’d seen him in his armor, and it was likely far from the last, but today… it was hitting different.

“Does everyone remember the plan?”

Hunter’s visor looked around the group. You couldn’t peel your gaze from him, and when his visor found you, he didn’t look away, either. It was only when Tech spoke up that the two of you shifted your attention to him. “Considering that you briefed us on the plan only a standard hour’s time ago, I would confidently say that yes. We remember.” He began tapping around on his datapad once again. “We ought to get moving if we would like to make any progress.”

“Good call, Tech.” Hunter nodded at him. “Are comms being monitored?”

“It doesn’t appear so at the moment.” Tech glanced up from his datapad to return Hunter’s nod. “That is why I suggested we move in.”

“Right.” Hunter led the way, and you were more than happy to keep your eyes on him. You blinked a few times and shook your head. There was a time and place for admiring him, and a mission wasn’t one of them.

But the lack of privacy the two of you always had to deal with left no luxury of picking and choosing when such feelings and urges would arise. You had to take any chance you could get, even if that meant your admiration would happen during a risky job.

Hunter led the group through the foliage that surrounded the hangar you were infiltrating. Cid had you chasing some kind of valuable fuel, but unlike Tech, you had somewhat drifted off during the briefing and knew next to nothing else about it. You couldn’t help it when the glow of the holoprojector had started to illuminate the golden flecks in Hunter’s eyes. He was more important than the plan in that moment.

It wasn’t long before there was a break in the trees, and Hunter crouched down before motioning for the rest of you to do the same. You weren’t far behind him, which gave you the chance to watch the steady rise and fall of his armored shoulders as he focused on observing the wide stretch of the open hangar.

“Sunny?” Omega’s voice whispered your nickname to get your attention. You leaned down to show her you were listening, despite the fact your gaze remained on Hunter. “Do you see something?”

You huffed and offered her a sweet look. “Nothing out of the ordinary, Omega.”

“Oh, okay.” Omega gave you a small smile. “You just looked really focused.” She gestured to her own forehead, and that’s when you realized there was a small knit of focus in your brow.

You fought the urge to laugh as your ears burned. “I’m only keeping an eye out. It’s a little eerie around here.”

“You can say that again,” Echo muttered from your other side. “I’m not liking this.”

“You say that about every job!” Wrecker reminded him.

Hunter’s helmet whipped around as he lifted a finger over where his mouth would be. “Quiet.”

You inhaled a breath and didn’t let go of it. It sat in your chest as you hung on his every move, your gaze zeroing in on his gloved fingers as they took some of the dirt and sifted it in a slow and steady motion. Then came your exhale, along with a slight tightening of your hand upon your own thigh as you kept yourself in place.

“The cargo’s on the other side of the hangar.” Hunter kept his voice low as he addressed the squad once again. You looked at him through your lashes as an attempt to keep your gaze focused on something other than him. Obviously, it hadn’t worked. “I can sense where they’re using it.” He drew his blaster and nodded. “Let’s head in.”

Hunter wasted no time leading the way yet again. He was sliding down the slight decline that separated the foliage from the furthest edges of the hangar, and you should’ve been following. Instead, you assured everyone you would bring up the rear, just so you could finish watching him. When he reached the ground, he stayed low, but you saw his visor find you as he gestured with his head for you to come down next.

You pulled your blaster and obeyed, this time staying attentive to what you were doing for fear of misstepping and losing your footing. When you reached the bottom, an outstretched hand was already there to help you up. You took it and made the sweet mistake of looking up, meeting the intensity of Hunter’s visor that never once left your gaze as one easy tug got you back onto your feet.

He didn’t let go of your hand, not right away. You could’ve melted right there if his sense of duty didn’t pull him back to the moment.

With a lingering touch, he pulled away and checked on the rest of the group, who had all just gotten back into position on their feet. “Okay. Plan seventy-two.” He pointed to the right side of the hangar. “Echo, Wrecker, and Omega, you’re on the diversion. Tech,” he turned his helmet, “you’re with me and Sunny.” He gestured to the extractor on Tech’s belt. “How much time will you need?”

Tech clicked around on his datapad before answering. “Not much. It seems that this type of fuel responds well to extraction, and thanks to my keen ability to handle such delicate operations, I should only need a standard minute or two to complete the procedure.”

Hunter nodded, then his visor found Echo. You still hadn’t looked away from him, not even once, and so your gaze didn’t follow his as he looked at the ARC trooper. “Echo?”

“I’ll trigger an alarm to reroute forces.” Echo gestured to the collection of ships by their designated area. “There should be a scomp over there.”

“And if that doesn’t work, I’ll blow something up,” Wrecker assured the squad.

“Fine,” Hunter agreed, setting his weight on his hip and lifting his arm to point his blaster at the ground. “Just make sure Omega’s fully out of the blast range this time.”

You bit back your smile. Protective. Omega had been quite far away from Wrecker’s last blast, but that hadn’t been enough for Hunter, of course. It only made the warmth within your chest and stomach burn more as you gave him a once-over that was dangerously obvious.

When your gaze had risen back up to his helmet, you realized his visor was already on you—and it likely had been the entire time. He began to tilt his helmet at you, but you couldn’t tell if it was a look of warning or a look of reciprocated desire.

“Hunter, we need to get going.” Tech’s voice broke through your brief trance as Hunter’s visor snapped over to his brother. “If we delay much longer, their diversion will be for nothing.”

Both you and Hunter looked to see that Echo, Wrecker, and Omega had already left. So much for being subtle. You could take the blame for that one. “Right.” Hunter lifted his blaster and ran ahead, sticking to the shadows as you and Tech did the same.

You were inside the hangar and running between cargo crates when Hunter suddenly raised his fist and began to back up behind one of the crates. The momentum from your running nearly made you run right into him, but without missing a beat, Hunter lowered his hand to reach behind himself and grab your thigh to steady you. He pressed you between his hand and the crate, keeping his grasp there until the small patrol of guards passed by.

Tech had already made it to the next crate, and he kept an eye out as Hunter slowly swung his helmet to face you. His voice was low in a tone he would never use with the others as he spoke to you. “You okay? You seem… distracted.”

You played it coy as you nodded. “Yeah, Hunter, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

His helmet tilted again, but he said nothing for a moment. Instead, he returned your nod and leaned even closer. “Good. Keep that focus.” His hand gave your thigh a quick squeeze before he began to follow in Tech’s footsteps.

You blinked a few times before following. There was no way Hunter realized how difficult it would be to follow that order, especially when he was behaving in such a way—which, you supposed, was just the normal way he acted on every mission. Somehow, that made it even worse.

At one point, Tech stopped behind another crate, looking at Hunter behind him. “Are we close to the fuel source?”

Hunter didn’t answer right away, and it wasn’t hard to tell why. He was focusing on his senses, and he helped himself to lock in even more by kneeling down and setting his palm upon the hangar’s floor. You watched as his gloved fingers gently splayed across the floor, and you had to circle your jaw to fight the flushing feeling it brought you. “We’re close.” Hunter rose up and pointed with two fingers to a cargo crate diagonal from your position. “It should be just beyond there.”

Tech nodded, taking a cautious look before he launched forward. You and Hunter followed, with you trailing just behind Hunter. It was a view you couldn’t resist, even if you were arguably focusing on where you were going. There had to be a way of following Hunter’s gentle order while also obeying your demanding heart.

Once you had gotten to the crate Hunter had pointed out before, the fuel source became more obvious. It glowed a bright green as it bubbled inside its transparisteel container. You, unsurprisingly, stared at Hunter as his visor studied it for a moment. “Are you gonna need help with that, Tech?”

“I will assume that is not an insult and kindly reject your offer,” Tech assured him. “Like I said before,” he took the extractor from his belt, “I have a keen ability for such delicate operations.”

Before anyone could say anything else, a blaring alarm sounded throughout the hangar. The three of you stayed concealed in the shadow of the cargo crate as guards began to run from their posts over to where Echo, Wrecker, and Omega were luring them. After three groups of guards had gone by, Hunter nodded at Tech, and he made his way over to the container to extract the fuel.

And even then, you couldn’t look at anything except the small sliver of skin that became apparent by Hunter’s chin as he surveyed the area to watch Tech’s back. You should’ve been doing the same, and you did every once in a while, but the pull back to Hunter was magnetic, as if he was a constant pulse you couldn’t stop sensing.

Hunter’s visor eventually found you again, and he slightly eased his grip on his blaster as he tilted his helmet. “Sunny.” He gestured with his blaster to your surroundings. “You’re supposed to be keeping watch.”

You huffed. “I am watching.” It was true; you were watching something, just not what you were supposed to be. The way you peeled your gaze away from him for the moment, though, was enough to convince Hunter.

Just as Tech had promised, he was quick with the extraction, and he was soon joining you and Hunter once again with the fuel secured on his belt. “The extraction is complete.”

“Good work, Tech.” Hunter looked over at his brother and nodded. “Get back to the ship and power it up. Sunny and I will go help the others.”

Both yours and Tech’s eyebrows shot up at that. It made no sense; Hunter could easily call them off over the comms. Tech seemed to have the same thought, and he spoke on it before you could. “Comms still are not being monitored, Hunter. We can—.”

“That’s an order, Tech.” Hunter’s tone left no room for argument.

Tech sighed, nodding once more before he backtracked the way you had all come. You were still furrowing your brow at Hunter, who was beginning to lurk out from the other end of the cargo crate. “Hunter, what’s going on?”

He glanced back at you and gestured with his head to a long set of cargo crates. “This way.”

Your confusion grew, but there was no point in questioning him. You followed him over to the crates and waited to line yourself up along its shadows. Instead, Hunter’s arm seized your waist, and he pulled you into the small space left between the two looming cargo crates.

Before you could fully make sense of it, you realized you were trapped between one of the crates and Hunter’s body, one of his hands still on your waist as the other, with his blaster, was pressed against the crate by your head. You could only look at him in awe as he spoke. “Why did you lie to me?”

You blinked a few times, and the tips of your ears began to burn. “What are you talking about?”

Hunter said your real name, his voice still low as he leaned even closer. You swallowed hard as the heat of his body washed over you in the sweetest wave. “You’ve been staring at me ever since the briefing.” He lifted his hand from your waist only to grab the lip of his helmet and lift it over his head. Your breath caught in your lungs at the sight of his gaze, which was darkened in the same amount of desire you felt for him. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?”

You shrugged, giving him a once-over just like before. “I thought your senses might’ve been… otherwise occupied.”

Hunter raised his brow. “Trust me, my senses are working overtime.” His arm wrapped around the side of your waist, even as he continued to hold his helmet in that grasp. “But only because they’re so committed to you that they refuse to let me focus on anything else when you’re around.”

You looked between his eyes and his lips, caught in your conflict between the invisible tether that brought you closer to him and the rest of the galaxy that was still in chaos around you. “Hunter,” you breathed his name, and at that point, your breath was fanning right over his lips. Your hands betrayed your weak protest as they wove themselves into his hair. “The mission.”

“The mission.” Hunter repeated your words and let the corner of his mouth rise in a smug smile. “It’s giving us the two things we never have: time,” his lips brushed your own, “and privacy.”

You couldn’t resist him. It didn’t matter how bad of an idea it was, and it certainly didn’t matter that you were at risk of being seen by anyone in the vicinity should they get curious. All that mattered was him, the man you had been staring at this entire time, and the fact that the warmth of his mouth and his body was on you in all the ways you’d been wanting for much too long.

All at once, he flooded your senses, from the touch of his hair on your hands to the pleased hum that he breathed into you. It was hard to separate each desperate move you made together, and even more impossible to count the seconds or minutes that ticked by as his tongue explored your mouth as if he’d never have the chance to do so again. It was breathless, passionate, and desperate all at once, with the adrenaline of the mission only adding to the sweet chaos that kept you going back for more time and time again.

Eventually, your lungs demanded air, but somehow Hunter’s didn’t need the same luxury. His lips grazed down to your neck to let you practically gasp for air underneath the hot warmth of his mouth. Each exhale you managed was dedicated to him, utterances of his name or simple breaths and sweet curses. You willed your lungs to take in enough air so you could have his lips on yours again, and soon, they allowed you to take a hold of his jaw and raise it enough for you to bring yourself back to him.

Your surroundings had long since disappeared in the haze of your affection, but for Hunter, that would never be a reality. That’s how he noticed the guard who had stopped at the place where the two of you had entered and was able to lift, aim, and stun them without missing even a single matching stroke of your tongue.

It only made your knees weaken even more.

But that distraction was enough to make the galaxy around you louder in your roaring ears, and with Hunter’s helmet just behind your back, you were able to hear the muffled voices of your squad. With a strength you never realized you were capable of, you pulled yourself away from him and spoke between pants. “The comms,” you managed. “Your helmet.”

Hunter tightened his jaw, unraveling his arm from your waist to set his helmet over his head. He kept two fingers on the side of it, and the slight tilt of his head made you hold back a giggle as you smoothed out the wrinkles in your clothes as well as in Hunter’s scarf. “We’re not far behind,” Hunter insisted. “We were just on our way to your position.” You playfully rolled your eyes at his lie as he finished. “We’ll head back to the ship.”

As he lowered his hand, you raised your brow. “Who’s the liar now?”

Hunter sighed, his hand brushing over your back as he nodded. “Come on, love. Let’s go.”

Your chest burned with a lovely ache at the nickname as the two of you stepped over the stunned guard and retreated back to the Marauder. Your pace never slowed, and thanks to the diversion Echo, Wrecker, and Omega had pulled off, you didn’t have to worry about being seen by any more guards. It wasn’t long before the two of you reached the ship, which the others had only just arrived to themselves.

“Okay, Tech,” Hunter called to his brother in the cockpit after he’d done a quick headcount. “Get us out of here.”

As Tech initiated takeoff, Omega approached you, her brow furrowed in concern. You instantly got down to her level as she met your gaze. “Sunny, what happened?” Omega gave you a worried once-over. “Did you get hurt?”

You lifted an eyebrow at her. “What do you mean, Omega?”

Omega pointed towards the cockpit. “Tech said on the comms that you and Hunter were coming to meet us, but you never did.”

You fought the warmth that attempted to enter your face as you instead reassured her with a smile. “We just got sidetracked, that’s all. There were a few lingering guards.”

“Really?” The sound of Echo’s voice caused you to look up at him. His expression was much too mischievous for your liking. “That’s surprising.”

Hunter was the one to speak up for you. His tone was coated in caution as he lifted his helmet from his head. “Why?”

Echo leaned against the back of the nearest chair. “Because that alarm I set off was supposed to summon every guard to our post.”

Hunter set his helmet down and crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, it didn’t.”

Echo’s brow shot up. “Are you sure about that?”

“Hunter is telling the truth.” Tech emerged from the cockpit, having already gotten the Marauder into hyperspace. “I saw him stun a guard not far from the fuel supply while he and Sunny were engaged in a passionate kiss.”

Your jaw dropped, and your heart went right with it. Hunter froze beside you, and Echo’s lips stretched in a shit-eating grin as Wrecker broke the stunned silence first. “A what?” He shuffled Omega in front of himself and covered her ears with his hands. She glanced up at him with confusion.

Tech furrowed his brow. “Does that information surprise you?”

“It doesn’t surprise you?” Echo remarked. Meanwhile, you had slightly turned your head towards Hunter, hoping you could somehow hide yourself from this awkward tension.

“Each part of what I have said is rational to me,” Tech explained. “One guard stayed behind with the fuel supply, and Hunter and Sunny have never been subtle with their own relationship. It makes utter and complete sense for them to take advantage of a moment spent alone when we have constantly been around them for many rotations.”

The Marauder had never been more silent. You sighed and rested your hand against your forehead as you spoke. “Thank you for that, Tech.”

Hunter subtly brushed a hand over your back to soothe you as he spoke up next. “I thought you were going back to the ship.”

“I only returned when you were not answering my comm,” Tech argued. “I was attempting to warn you about the lingering guard.”

“We would’ve realized what happened anyway,” Echo insisted. He looked between the two of you and drew a circle around his own mouth. “Lips don’t lie.”

You and Hunter glanced at each other, and it was hard to bite back a smile of amusement when you realized Echo was right. The intensity of your kiss was left behind in evidence on his mouth, and you were sure your own—and possibly even your neck—was just as bad, if not worse.

“We still achieved the objective,” Tech reminded you all. “So what ought to be learned here is that… well, perhaps we should let the two of you have more privacy outside the bounds of a mission.”

Hunter raised his brow at you, and your smile spoke for you before he responded. “That would be nice.”

“Yeah.” You brought yourself just a step closer to his side. “That would be nice.”

But deep down, you both knew the truth; you would do it all over again on the next mission if it meant recreating even a fraction of the moment you had just shared.

main masterlist • hunter masterlist

#WE DID IT and man oh man do i feel like it's worth it #tbb hunter #sergeant hunter #tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter x you #sergeant hunter x reader #sergeant hunter x you #the bad batch fanfiction #the bad batch fic #dindjarindiaries

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bruh-myguy-what · 5 months

Text

Lovestruck

Pairing: Tech x Fem!Reader Requested by: @baddest-batchers Warnings: Massive fluff, I think I actually cried writing this?, I've not been handling the season finale well because I miss Tech a considerable amount, pining for reader from Tech's perspective, a lot of adorable emotions from our usually pragmatic boy Word Count: 2K Summary: While fixing the Marauder with you, Tech reflects on his feelings and he's completely enamored by you. A/N: I'm not handling Tech's death well. Whether it's his death or his just being CX-2, I don't really care, I miss him so desperately and this fic healed so many parts of my heart even though I actually wept while writing. I love that you requested this, friend! I hope it's exactly what you were looking for (or at least close!) and I absolutely agree, this was indeed a Tech prompt. All of these requests have been so wonderful and I cannot express how much it means that people like my writing enough to send in requests! Thanks guys!

Requests are open if you have anything you'd like to send in!

__________________________________________

It was an ordinary affair for you and Tech to work on the repairs for the Marauder simultaneously. There were consistent restorations that needed to be made and things to be updated, so having another experienced individual helped jog said matters along. Though the clone was hesitant at first, after months of rapport building, he was grateful.

Not only was he finding himself appreciative for the extra set of hands, but Tech discovered that he was quite enjoying your company. You were clever, agreeable, and understanding, along with that you seemed to always find his endless wealth of knowledge pleasant. The accurate way you managed the repairs of his ship, first by managing his hesitancy well and then demonstrating consideration for his methods before ever handling something he cared so much about, really surprised him. Your approach to his usually off-putting demeanor was a welcomed change in his life and the way you subtly encouraged him appeared to warm his heart in a way he hadn't previously encountered.

He'd found that his eyes lingered on you from afar longer than he realized, only noticing that he'd been staring when you'd look over and smile at him sweetly. The light in your eyes, whenever you'd smile at him, twinkled so effortlessly, almost as if there had been stars placed directly behind them solely to enchant him.

It was as if you were another creature entirely, one he'd never analyzed, one he knew nothing about- because everything you did fascinated him. All the ways in which you carried yourself, laughed with his brothers, tended to Omega, your wit, the charm you retained...it all was remarkable to him. He began to notice himself craving your attention. Tech dreamed of you laughing for him, smiling at him, every moment he was awake you invaded his thoughts.

So to have you crouched down beneath the hull of the Marauder, handing him parts and tools for repairs made him impossibly delighted. This was a life he could get used to, for a long time. The ability to bond with you- and only you- in this way for the rest of his short life, he would fight for it, no matter the threat. If this was what life could be for him after he and his brothers no longer needed to fight, he would be far and beyond content. He'd feel whole.

"The spanner now, please," Tech's smooth tone echoed back to him from off the metal hull.

Taking a moment to grab the tool, you placed it squarely in his hand, "Of course." Your voice was sweet as ever to his ears, the sensation of your fingers grazing his gloved palm sending tides of bliss to his heart. How he desired to remove his gloves to truly discern how your hand might feel in his. Odd thought, he knew, though nevertheless one he often had run through his mind. Other equivalent ones situated themselves among his standard reflections; such as how your cheeks might feel cradled in his palm, or how your eyes might sparkle even more at his displays of affection toward you.

These introspective ideas were not ones he had been programmed with, he understood that very well, but then again wasn't that the whole point of him and his brothers? They weren't droids. Even with protocol and planned executions, wasn't the beautiful part of having your own identity the potential for...emotion? Sentiments?

Love?

The brilliant clone pondered these notions for many hours during hyperspace travels, staring endlessly into the streaking atmosphere while everyone else lay in their bunks asleep. Upon his further analysis and pensive state, he conceded that he did, indeed, love you. Even though he expected it to never be possible, for him anyhow, it clearly was. And there it was, staring up at him with stunning eyes and an adorable smile- all wrapped up in one woman who waited for further instruction to aid his work.

"Whatcha smiling at, silly?" A giggle brought him out of his reverie and he cleared his throat, handing the spanner back to you while muttering a quick 'my apologies'. "It's no big deal, you know I don't mind," another soft chuckle at his sudden behavior change. "Just curious what has you in such a good mood lately. You never smile this much- not that I'm complaining, of course. You look happy and I like that, it suits you." The smile he watched spread across your lips brightened your eyes so preciously that Tech felt as if his heart were going to lock up. You were absolutely breathtaking in the setting sunlight, the warm glow radiating your beauty.

It wasn't too long after your comment that he acknowledged he'd been staring once again. Tech blinked a few times, regaining his composure- sure to remember the planet's rotation cycle so he could bring you out into the setting sun one more time before leaving so he could truly memorize the way you looked in such a spectacular site. "I suppose it would be an alarming circumstance to see my sudden change in attitude if you are accustomed to my rather pragmatic and steadfast manner." He spoke slowly, trying to gauge his words carefully, looking back up at the repairs he was currently working on.

To say he was usually practical was an understatement and even he knew that, but he continued nevertheless- "Screwdriver, please."

A quick hum in reply from you and the tool was now in his hand, his heart buzzing at your lingering touch, making certain he had hold of the screwdriver before pulling away. "Though," Tech found himself speaking before he realized, hesitating after the word left his mouth.

Should he continue? Would you be uneasy at any admission of his affection, or even just simple favor, toward you?

He found himself suddenly apprehensive at the possibility that he could ruin the favorable conditions he'd found for himself with you. But with your reassuring voice, you spoke his worrying thoughts away, "though, what? Got too many thoughts running around that extraordinary mind of yours to just pick one?" The pleasantness in your prodding had a warm smile of his own spreading across his lips now while he worked against a stubborn bolt.

"Only a few at this very moment, so it would appear, mesh'la." Tech's reply was soft, soft enough that he thought only he'd heard himself until you stood beside him now. He glanced to see your head tilted with ever lovely, inquisitive eyes prompting him to continue his outspoken thought. Realigning his eyes to the bolt, Tech licked his lips anxiously, "Ah, I must have spoken aloud without realizing." He clarified softly, a burning sensation rising to his cheeks.

"Well now you gotta continue," you teased with a smile, "It's not every day that your genius mind only has a few thoughts in it to speak of."

Tech knew he was skating near a precarious edge, but the more you gazed at him expectantly, the less he cared and only desired for you to continue your total obliteration of his typical sensible behaviors. Taking a deep breath, the enhanced clone steadied himself before expressing, "At present, I have found that my foremost thoughts are exclusively about you. During the maturing of our relationship these last few months, it would seem that less and less of my thoughts are as constructive as they had been prior to our closeness, as troubling as that may sound." At your silence, Tech chanced lowering his arms to stand before you unimpeded by work, attention entirely yours.

The rise of your brows and the slight part in your lips made his heart thud painfully against his chest. Though, he noticed the sparkle in your eyes hadn't dissipated, perhaps he wasn't ruining anything as he thought he had been. "I am mindful that it may come across as peculiar, or eccentric, for me to have said that," Tech began cautiously, calculating your evolving expression. "Nevertheless, it is the truth. I...find you to be the most compelling woman that I have personally had the fortune of knowing. You are quite literally the only part of my life that I find myself frequently enchanted by." As he spoke, Tech found it easier to alleviate himself of the mountain of praises he'd been repeatedly considering when in your presence. He discovered he could continue voicing your worth, just as he could gaze at your beautiful face for an indefinable amount of time if only you'd allow him.

In the face of your silence, Tech cleared his throat once again to calm himself of his growing concern. "Though I'm aware of my capacity to express thoughts without stopping, I must say that your added input on this matter would prevent the inclination of my elevating heart rate."

"Tech..." The way his name left your lips did the contrary of what he had just requested, scrambling his heart rate instead. Tenderness touched the curve of your lips as you stepped forward close to him, directly into the space he usually reserved for only himself until he saw how much more exquisite you were when he had the opportunity to look down at you. This close he could see every mark, every small scar, the way the color of your eyes shifted as they glanced back and forth around his face.

"Stars," he breathed, "you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, mesh'la..." Tech muttered to himself in wonderment. As if no barrier had ever existed between you, Tech reached out to caress your face, marveling at how you reacted by pressing your cheek further into his touch. "If you were to provide me the honor of showing you my devotion, I would be certain to surpass any expectations you may put forth." Spellbound by the intimacy he'd found himself in with you, Tech longed for more. He yearned to feel the softness of your cheek on his skin, not through his filthy gloves. The way you deserved to be admired was wholly and profoundly, without any impediments. As his eyes danced between yours and the way your smile began to fade, Tech brushed his thumb along your cheek, cursing his GAR regulation blacks. You'd hardly said a word other than the sweet whisper of his name before you approached him, and even if this instance was all he'd ever receive from you, he'd relive the memory a hundred times over. Though he worried he'd said too much again.

Or maybe you were as entranced as he was, presently. "My dear, I don't mean to ruin this moment, however, I-" and before he could finish speaking you'd surged upward toward him, pressing your lips against his.

Astonishment rushed through the normally sharp clone as he felt the weight of your body pressed against his chest plate. After only a moment, though, Tech reacted- refusing to squander his opportunity to kiss you as he had dreamt many times over.

Wrapping his arms around your smaller figure, one hand came to rest between your shoulders and the other cradled your head affectionately, holding you as close as he could possibly have you. The plush of your lips brushed so flawlessly against his as he admired the softness they possessed. Tech knew upon impact that he would never tire of this, of the ability to hold you as he was, nor his newfound gift to kiss you.

You pulled away all too soon for his liking, the sigh escaping his lips sounding as pathetic to him as he was sure it sounded to you. Your smile was even more gorgeous than he'd seen it yet, though he was sure it was due to the recent discovery of just how incredible your smile tasted against his lips. Tech debated whether he should move at all for fear of you slipping away even sooner, but relented to adjust his goggles, matching your smile. "I believe that is a sufficient response to my yet posed question."

With yet another unpredictable act, you cuddled closer into his space, folding your arms in between your chest and his, and tucked your face into his neck. "I'll be happy to answer any others you may have with the same reply, whenever you need, handsome." You replied with a soft laugh.

Encompassing you once again within his embrace, Tech felt his cheeks warming, noting how the sun had disappeared beneath the horizon and he knew couldn't blame that for his reddened face. His breathy chuckle rumbled against his chest plate, "I shall keep that at the forefront of my thoughts."

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wistfulforstars · 3 months

Text

I Want More, More

Crosshair x Reader Oneshot

WOW, I broke 20 followers! Thank you, thank you for reading my little fics, it means the world! Have a Crosshair battling with his feelings oneshot!

Word Count: 4605

Summary: Crosshair is made aware that he has not been treating you like he should. He has a crisis about it before talking to you like an adult, kind of.

Warnings: Here there be smut, minors begone, Crosshair struggling with his feelings is its own warning, Crosshair is a dick until he's not, he's a moron your honor, slightly desperate Crosshair, rough sex into talking into gentle sex into rough sex again, oral (m receiving), oral (f receiving), p in v sex, language, some derogatory pet names, talking during sex, reader is afab, there's porn here I promise, you just have to get through Crosshair's angst

This wasn’t fucking working.

Crosshair was near madness, and he was sure you were reaching a point where you needed a break. You’d never let him fuck your mouth for this long before. But there you were, topless, tears streaming down your face, knees probably scuffed or even bleeding from the durasteel floor, nevermind that you still had your pants on. And yet you pushed through, voicing not a word of complaint as you gagged on his persistent cock.

And he wasn’t anywhere close to finishing.

You should be complaining, he decided. What had it been? Thirty minutes? Fifty? Crosshair couldn’t keep track of anything except his own frustration, and that was making him a terrible lay. And if there’s one thing he would be loath to be terrible at, it was sex.

His cock throbbed, his balls ached, and you kept moaning. He growled.

Sooner or later, you’re going to hurt her. She’s going to get tired of this, and she’s going to leave. Hunter’s words from earlier in the week creeped back into his mind, and any hope of salvaging this situation dissipated into thin air.

Crosshair abruptly pulled you off his length and backed away, tugging his pants up as he went. Still you knelt, breathing heavily, awaiting what he’d do next. It was the arrangement you’d both worked out months ago. You allowed yourself to be used as he saw fit, and he made sure you left satisfied and ready for dreamless sleep. No feelings, no complications. It had worked well for a long time. But he looked at you then, your face a mess, your curled legs trembling, and for the first time, he couldn’t stand the sight.

She deserves someone who cares deeply about her, Echo’s voice, well, echoed in his head, as unbidden as Hunter’s had been. His nosy brothers had held an intervention of sorts a few days ago while you were out getting supplies. It had started with Tech’s “We want to know what you are doing with our medic,” gone through Wrecker’s “You know she likes you, right? Like, a lot,” and ended with a long speech from Hunter about how “One day Crosshair, you’re going to wake up and realize that she’s moved on. For some reason, she really cares for you. And you’re treating her like a meaningless one night stand, except you keep doing it over, and over and-”

It was stupid. You both liked what you were doing. You were both consenting adults with the power to walk away at any time. You were both happy and fulfilled with that. It was enough.

Except for the past few days, it hadn’t been.

Crosshair began to really notice certain things since the talk with his brothers. Like how you always met him with a cheery good morning, and how you didn’t expect an answer in return. How you’d sit next to him while he cleaned his rifle, content to do all the talking if he just listened. How you always ran over after a close call on missions, frantic about his safety and never expecting him to inquire about your wellbeing, even if you were covered in soot and limping away from an explosion.

He realized you were giving more, much more to your…friendship, than he was. And that didn’t sit well with him. Your relationship was supposed to be transactional, and here you were, giving him attention and assistance and contact without expecting one damn solitary thing in return. Always giving, never receiving, and he…

He was a fucking prick.

Horrible, awful scenarios started coming to mind after that. For two days, he thought about what would happen if you got transferred, or completed your service and left, or, stars-forbid, got shot. A concept he’d never considered before. You were always there, always constant as Tech’s pointing finger and Echo’s whirring attachments.

The idea of you leaving him - and he was completely arrogant for never seriously entertaining the thought - was frightening. And Crosshair didn’t do frightened.

The worst part? While he was drowning in inner turmoil due to his asshole brothers and your own damn sweetness, you were waltzing around, perfectly fine. You had never given any outward indication that you wanted something real from him, something more than a smokescreen of orgasms and sharp banter. Now that he knew how much you cared, now that he’d heard that you liked him no matter how hard you tried to hide it, he couldn’t let it go.

You’d been contenting yourself with his hands on your body and his lackluster personality for months, when, according to his brothers, you’d really wanted something deeper. Did you think he would reject you, or that he wasn’t capable of anything more to begin with? Both possibilities stung, a lot deeper than he’d ever supposed they would. Especially as he realized that neither of them were unreasonable of you to assume. Suddenly, he was furious.

That’s how he ended up with his cock down your throat in the back of the Marauder, while everyone else was out on the town. Not in his bed, never in his bed. That was one of the rules he’d made, to stop things from getting too intimate. Instead he’d had you kneel, and you’d done it with a wry smile and no questions. He’d planned to fuck these thoughts out of his head, but as it turns out, his brain was thinking the fuck out of his dick, so to speak.

So instead, he leaned against the wall, gazing at you. You still kneeled, still waited patiently while he’d stared for who knows how long.

You deserved better.

The thought was pounding against his skull, incessant and refusing to leave. And Crosshair knew there were only two ways to resolve it. He could walk away, wish you well, and hope that you found someone who could give you a true relationship, no matter what it might cost him.

Or…he could try to be worthy of you.

The first option entailed less risk, and was definitely more his style. He couldn’t be bad at a relationship if he never tried to give you one. But the thought of someone else seeing you like this, or worse, someone else seeing you in ways he hadn’t yet…on a beach, walking down a colorful city street, riding a speeder bike, in the snow…

He stood abruptly and crossed over to your languishing form. He had you in his arms in less than a second, and had you laying on his bunk in less than five more.

“Cross, wha-?” you protested. You knew the rules, knew his boundaries, and tried to sit up and leave.

He grasped your shoulders and gently pushed you back, “Please.” Was all he said, whispered and hoarse. He worried at his lip without realizing it. Your eyes widened, and you let him lean you back on his pillows. He fidgeted with them, trying to make them fluffier than the GAR issued sacks of foam they really were, and you quirked a brow.

“You fucking with me, Cross?” you asked, and he could tell you were putting real effort into keeping the trepidation out of your voice. “Because this is a real weird joke.”

Okay, he deserved that one. But his words were stuck somewhere between his brain and his mouth. How was he supposed to know how to tell a woman he liked her anyway? If the Kaminoans included a class on charm somewhere in their training programs, he definitely didn’t get an invite.

Maybe you would be better off with someone who didn’t spend their days getting up close and personal with other people through a fucking scope.

But all this staring was starting to freak you out. You were sitting awkwardly, legs open, tits out, under his genetically superior gaze. Crosshair didn’t know what kind of face he’d been making, but it clearly wasn’t one you were used to. You crossed your arms over your chest and turned your head to the side, away from him.

“Are we done?” You ground out through a set jaw, a slightly trembling lip. “Is this…ahem…is this over? Because you could just tell me, you don’t have to try and make it easier. I can just go back to my bunk and…and…”

He caught the sheen in your eyes, the catch in your throat. Fuck. Fuck.

“I-I want you…” stars, he can’t even talk. Damn you. Damn him. He cleared his throat. “I. want. you. to stay… there.”

Well, it sounded like it was being tortured out of him, but at least it got your attention. You turned back to look at his face, “You want me to stay here.” You said evenly, jerking your head towards his shabby pillows. “In your bed. Where I’m never, ever supposed to be.”

He swallowed, mouth dry as hell, and nodded. You were so much better at this, so much stronger than he was. He couldn’t do anything but spill his guts in what was probably the least romantic way possible.

So he did, “I want to try…something else.”

Your lips parted just a fraction, and something seemed to click behind your eyes. But you were tough, tougher than he ever gave you credit for, and you never gave him any ground. Oh you were gentle about it, cool satin to his rough burlap. He suspected it was the healer in you. But you always demanded communication from him, demanded that he explain his behavior, even if it took him a while.

“Something else,” the hitch in your voice had disappeared. “You’re going to have to explain that one to me, babe. You know I’ll try something new, and we have a safe word, but this violates your rules, and I don’t know how to act now. I don’t know what’s okay.”

Babe. It slipped out of your mouth every so often, usually in a teasing lilt over comms during a battle. He didn’t know if he loved it or hated it, but it always brought a sudden heat to his face. He felt the tips of his ears burning.

“I…” c’mon, bastard. You can get this out, you have to get this out. She’s waiting. “I want… toforgettherules.”

“I’m sorry? One more time?”

Brat. In any other circumstance, he’d have you over his knee for something like that. But he took a deep breath, like the ones he’d take before making an impossible shot. And maybe that’s what this was, “I want to forget the rules.”

Your eyes alighted with something like hope, “Why?”

Yes Crosshair, you stupid prick, tell the lady why. He needed to get his head examined. He was talking to himself more than usual. And now he’d started to sound like Hunter.

“Because,” he ground out, teeth clenched. “You deserve…better…than what I’ve been giving you. But I…I don’t want anyone else to deserve you.”

You sat with that for just a moment. And then you brought a hand up to your mouth and giggled. It was such a happy sound, he was almost completely unoffended.

“You like me,” you murmured, eyes full of mirth and pure, honest delight.

He let out a shaky breath. It was almost a chuckle, “I like you. You’re a little shit, and you give me a heart attack half the time. But I like you.”

“And… I’m allowed to like you back?” This question was tentative, small. Not how he wanted to see you. You should be bright, confident, unafraid to show your brilliance. A fierceness crept into his heart.

“You get to like whatever you damn well please,” he growled, then softened slightly. “But…it would be nice if you liked me.”

You hummed, and dropped the arms covering your gorgeous breasts to cup his face in both hands. Your fingers moved in his cropped strands of hair, but he resisted the urge to close his eyes at the peace it brought him.

“I like you, more than I ever thought you’d want me to,” you almost-whispered. Then you grinned that same grin you got when Wrecker offered to let you press a detonator. “But if you want in on this, babe, if you want some kind of commitment, I’ve got some rules of my own.”

Strangely, the thought didn’t concern him nearly as badly as it had a day ago. He didn’t know shit about real relationships. He wanted you, and if you gave him some kind of guide to go off of, well, at least there was less of a chance of him fucking it up.

Crosshair nodded, and your smile grew wider, joy sparkling in your eyes.

“First of all,” you began. “You have to say good morning and good night to me. You also have to hold my hand every so often, and let me kiss your cheek. I promise not to embarrass you…too much.”

He huffed a little, but conceded, “Agreed. Anything else?”

“Oh this is an ongoing list. There will be amendments,” you chirped happily. “I require actual conversation daily, and I get to sleep next to you after we fuck.”

“What do you take me for? Of course you get to-”

“No getting jealous of my guy friends, including your brothers. Like when I give them hugs or candies or-.”

“The regs absolutely cannot be trusted-”

“Ha! I knew you’d be a jealous boyfriend. Oh yeah! And I get to introduce you as my boyfriend from now on.”

Crosshair’s mild disgust must have shown on his face, because you laughed outright, “What about partner? Lover? Fuckbuddy?”

He rolled his eyes, “I’ll make ‘boyfriend’ work. Can I kiss you now or does the princess have more proclamations?”

That shut you up. Despite all the other parts of him you’d had in your mouth, one of his rules had been no kissing on the lips. Your eyes glazed over, and he smirked and leaned forward.

Your lips were so soft, plush and sorely neglected. A vague sense of regret and longing overtook him. How the hell had he managed to avoid kissing you until now? It didn’t really matter. He decided, as you let out a little hum of surprise, that it was about to become his new ritual. Every morning, every night, every time he could drag you into a private little alcove, he’d do it, just to get a chance to press his lips to yours.

He pushed forward, his tongue licking at the line of your lips, and you whined. His cock pulsed, and he began steadily rocking it against your clothed thigh. You opened your mouth eagerly and he dove in. Oh this was divine.

“Never thought,” he mumbled into your mouth. “Never thought it’d be like this.”

“Like…what?” you gasped.

“This…this fucking… brilliant. Stars, your mouth…”

You groaned, and he moved to sweep his deft tongue along your jaw, up to your ear. He bit at your earlobe, and your hips began doing some involuntary rocking of their own. Crosshair growled in your ear, satisfied when you shivered.

He stopped though, when he felt your stealthy hand cup his balls through his pants, “No,” he rasped, taking your wrist in hand and bringing the misbehaving appendage up to nip at your squirming fingers. “I told you, doll. I want… to try… something else.”

“Letting me call the shots would be something else,” you whined, still wiggling in his grasp.

He shook his head, “Not tonight,” he said, sounding out of breath. “Tonight, you just lay there. Look pretty. Look fucking gorgeous because that’s what you are, and keep making little noises for me.”

You whimpered at that, and he smirked. But it wasn’t his usual cocky, infuriating twist of the lips. This was an adorable half smile, part disbelieving, part alive with anticipation.

Your pants were hastily removed, and while your shoes caused a bit of an obstacle, Crosshair simply wrenched them off and tossed them over his shoulder. One landed with a thump on the durasteel floor - a place he swore you would never be kneeling unprotected again. He was pretty sure the other ended up in Tech’s bunk.

Crosshair traced his hands down your legs and slowly, ever so slowly pulled your knees further apart. You were pressed back against the pillows, open and waiting for him, and his heart rose to a furious din in his ears. He was almost positive you could hear it.

He was seized with another fit of insecurity. How was he supposed to know how to cater to you like this? He knew how to grasp your throat just hard enough that your eyes would roll back into your head. He knew how you liked to be tied down and spanked. This wasn’t even the first time he had held your legs apart and let you squirm under his attention. But tenderness… communicating one’s feelings with one’s body… he didn’t even know how to begin.

His eyes flicked to your face, flushed with shyness and lust. Your kind, welcoming eyes, more open in every breath than he was in his entire lifetime. You bit your lip.

You have to try to be worthy of her, he thought to himself. And he turned his attention to your pussy.

Still clothed in your thin, basic panties, the solid color was stained dark with your wetness. Crosshair cursed, and slowly descended between your legs.

First, he kissed your knees, not bleeding but definitely scraped, and the gentle touch of his lips had you sighing. You’d never made that sound before, that exhale of pure contentment. He wanted more of it.

You flinched and squirmed as he ran his tongue down your inner thigh, but he held you fast. You weren’t getting away from him. Not now, not when he was finally ready to really try.

Crosshair knew where you wanted him. You weren’t exactly subtle with the canting of your hips and the nervous fluttering of your fingers over the sheets. Your breaths were coming in short bursts of want. Stars, how were you this sensitive already? He’d seen you in a state of pre-orgasmic distress plenty of times, had made you beg for him past the point where you could speak in coherent sentences, but never had he seen such simple, sweet touches electrify you in this way.

Instead of lowering his mouth to your pussy, though, Crosshair moved to lick and nip at your hip bone. You squealed and moaned, and he decided he’d never heard such an addicting sound.

He brought his tongue across your belly, snapping the waistband of your panties with his teeth before teasing your other hip. Your whimpering was a constant symphony in his dark bunk. He pulled back and chanced a peek at your face. Your eyes were shining with yearning. You had one hand in your hair. He reached up, tugged your abused lip from between your teeth, worried that you’d draw blood, and glanced back down.

The wet spot on your panties had grown, and finally, with a lighter touch than he’d ever directed towards you, Crosshair ran a knuckle up and down your clothed center. You keened, and threw your head back on his feeble pillows, which had flattened almost completely under you.

I need to get new ones, he thought absently as he tugged your panties to the side, exposing your dripping core. She deserves to be fucked on real pillows.

He lowered his head, and you were both gone.

Crosshair had tasted you before, often as a tease while you were tied up and helpless. But not often, and not thoroughly. He usually enjoyed watching your face while taking you apart with his fingers, snarling demeaning pet names into your ear. But this…this was transcendent. You tasted like home, like he could live his entire life and die between your legs. He drank from you slowly, meticulously, lapping at your entrance and circling your clit before closing his lips around it and lightly sucking. Your legs were trembling within minutes. Every few seconds, garbled, meaningless sounds escaped from your throat and spurred him on. He gently, reverently pushed a finger into your hot center, caressing the spot you both loved. You seized up…, and let go.

He rocked you lovingly through your orgasm, fingering you slightly and keeping his mouth clamped around your clit. Your pussy spasmed, your hips jerked, and your mouth opened in a silent scream.

But he didn’t stop.

Crosshair began again, stroking your throbbing clit with his tongue, refusing to allow the fire in your abdomen to subside. Now that he’d really tasted you, now that he’d felt you fall apart on his lips, his only goal was to make it happen again.

“C-cross!” you yelled, hand flying down to his hair. You tugged hard, and he groaned.

“More,” he mumbled into your cunt. His fingers pressed at that tender spot inside you, and your head flew back. You shrieked and writhed on his bed, dripping onto the sheets.

You were moaning with every breath, tensing your legs and frantically thrusting your hips towards his waiting mouth. Your toes curled repeatedly in the corners of his vision. Your pussy was red and swollen, your slick arousal running down his hand and wrist.

Crosshair curled his fingers inside of you and allowed his teeth to gently catch against your begging clit, and your second orgasm hit like a lightning strike. You seized up, screaming your release to the ceiling of his bunk. He gently lapped at your clit as you came down, your yells turning to sobs. Tears spilled down your face and onto your chest. You reached for him, and he encircled your shaking body with his arms.

“Shhhhh,” he hushed into your hair. “You’re alright…you’re alright…I…I’ve got you, mesh’la.”

You pulled back, tears tracking your cheeks as you stared into his eyes, “Y-you’ve never called me that before.”

Crosshair knew you understood the word. Echo called you mesh’la on occasion, Wrecker too. “I felt left out,” he said. “I should get to remind you of how beautiful you are more than anyone else.”

You sniffed, and threw your arms around him, “You’re beautiful too,” he heard you mumble, and his heart swelled. “But…”

“But what, doll?”

Your voice took on a fierce, desperate tone, “If you don’t get inside me right now, we’re going to have our first fight.”

Crosshair was stunned, but only for a moment. This was why he lo…liked you in the first place.

He took on the domineering tone he usually had with you in these situations, “Demanding girls don’t get what they want.”

But you just grinned, and lifted your chin, “Girlfriend privilege.”

He threw his head back and laughed. What had he gotten himself into?

He couldn’t wait to find out.

“Just this once, mesh’la.”

You practically went limp in his arms as his straining, red cock breached your entrance. He stilled for just a moment, relishing in the feeling of being inside you. When you looked up at him, eyes shining with something he dare not name, not yet, he felt complete.

Crosshair grabbed hold of your hair and yanked, and you squealed from the pull of his hand and the push of his cock. This much he was sure of: he knew how you liked to be fucked, and he didn’t have it in him to be gentle any longer. And though he wouldn’t last as long as he’d like, no one could accuse him of not being a giving lover.

“Just like that, good girl,” he growled. You whined and writhed, impaled on his cock and unable to even think. “You just lay back, and come for me one more time.”

“Cross…I-I can’t.”

“You can,” he assured you, and his thumb went down to ever so gently move on your clit. “You’ve done it for me before, and you’re going to do it for me again. Scream, bite me if you have to, but you are going to give me one more.”

You wailed, hips thrusting up, frantically trying to match his rhythm. Crosshair released your hair to grab your throat. He leaned in, a hair's breadth away from your ear, and whispered, “That’s it, that’s my good girl.”

You tensed, and he grinned, “You like that? You like knowing you’re mine? That this mouth, these tits, this pussy all belong to me?” He started moving faster, keeping that pressure on your throbbing clit. He bit at your ear, “But remember, mesh’la, just because you’re my girl doesn’t mean I won’t fuck you like the slut we both know you are.”

That did it. Your cunt clenched around him, and you let out an ear-piercing scream. Your release came in strong, crashing waves, wiping your mind of anything else and soaking both of you. Crosshair couldn’t hold out any longer. He buried himself to the hilt and came deep inside you, and you shuddered with the aftershocks, so full and sated Crosshair swore you’d fallen asleep.

He was wrong. You lifted a trembling hand to his face and smiled gently at him, “Thank you, Cross.”

He scoffed, “Nothing to be thankful for. Not like we haven’t done this a hundred times.”

But you shook your head, “We’ve never done this before.” You gestured at the mess you’d made in his bed, at your tangled limbs and the invisible closeness that still existed between you, even after the amazing sex. “Thank you for trying.”

Crosshair felt his strength leave him. He gathered you up, and buried his face in your chest, taking deep, calming breaths, “Don’t let me coast on it.” He murmured. “Don’t cut me any slack. I’m bad at this.”

He heard your giggle from above, “A little unpolished, maybe, but I’ve never seen you fail to excel at something you were determined to accomplish.” You stroked his hair. “We’ll be fine, babe.”

“We need to talk about that nickname.”

“I can think of others,” you teased. “Honey, sweetie, my little tooka-”

He made a gagging noise against your breasts, and you were outright laughing, “Babycakes, darling, love-”

Crosshair knew he’d tensed up at that last one, had let a little gasp escape in his contentment. He blamed the recent orgasm. But you’d heard it, and you stopped laughing.

“Oh…” he heard your voice take on a strange tone, and finally looked up at your face. You looked…shy. Shy and happy. You nodded, “Love, then. I can make that work.”

He felt his ears burning, and he turned his face back into your chest. A sudden possessiveness overtook him, and he gathered you closer, “You can’t…” he mumbled. “You can’t call anyone else that.”

You were quiet for a moment, probably remembering all of the interchangeable nicknames you liked to use with his brothers. Then he felt your hands grab his face - still hiding in your breasts like a coward - and turn it toward your own. You smiled down at him.

“And that, love, is what we call boyfriend privilege.”

Crosshair gazed at you in amazement, then felt a rare smile break out over his face. He hugged you close, took his time kissing your lips again. He knew, in a moment, he would tell you to stay where you are as he got up and did something he’d never done for you before - clean you up himself. It’s something he would insist on doing from here on out.

Because, he decided, that’s what your boyfriend would do. And, as he was realizing rather quickly, he did not want anyone else to earn that title.

It was his. And he was yours.

#crosshair x reader #crosshair smut #tbb crosshair #the bad batch crosshair #crosshair fanfiction #tbb fanfiction #bad batch fanfic #the bad batch fanfiction #crosshair bad batch #wisteriabyrnefanfic #wistysfics

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sinfulsalutations · 2 months

Text

𝕣𝕚𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕨𝕒𝕧𝕖 ⋆*･ﾟ 𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕘𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕙𝕦𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣

➼ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ☆ ꜱᴇʀɢᴇᴀɴᴛ ʜᴜɴᴛᴇʀ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➼ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ ☆ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ʜᴜɴᴛᴇʀ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴢᴇꜱ ʜᴏᴡ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ʜɪꜱ ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ᴀꜰꜰᴇᴄᴛꜱ ʏᴏᴜ.

➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴘᴏʀɴ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴘʟᴏᴛ, ꜰᴇʀᴀʟ+ʜᴏʀɴʏ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏʀ, ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ᴘʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ɪɴ ʜᴇᴀᴛ, ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ᴋɪɴᴋ, ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴛᴇɴꜱɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴀɴᴛᴀꜱɪᴇꜱ, ᴍᴜᴛᴜᴀʟ ᴘɪɴɪɴɢ, ʀᴇꜱᴏʟᴠᴇᴅ ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴛᴇɴꜱɪᴏɴ, ʜᴜɴᴛᴇʀ ɪꜱ ᴛᴏᴏ ꜱᴇxʏ ꜰᴏʀ ʜɪꜱ ᴏᴡɴ ɢᴏᴏᴅ, ᴍᴜᴛᴜᴀʟ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴜʀʙᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ɢʀɪɴᴅɪɴɢ, ᴍɪʟᴅ ɢᴏʀᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴇꜱᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴡᴏᴜɴᴅꜱ, ɪ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ʀᴇɢʀᴇᴛ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʟᴍᴀᴏ

➼ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ☆ 9.1ᴋ

➼ ᴘᴏᴠ ☆ ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ

➼ ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ ☆ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ - ᴇᴛʜᴇʟ ᴄᴀɪɴ, ᴍᴏᴏɴꜱᴛʀᴜᴄᴋ - ᴇɴʜʏᴘᴇɴ

⋆ ★ … ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛᴏᴏᴋ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴀ�� ɴᴏᴛ ᴇxᴀɢɢᴇʀᴀᴛɪɴɢ, ᴀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ʏᴇᴀʀ ᴛᴏ ꜰɪɴɪꜱʜ. ɪ ʙᴇɢᴀɴ ɪᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇɢɪɴɴɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ᴊᴜʟʏ ᴏꜰ 2023 ᴀɴᴅ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴋᴇᴘᴛ ᴘᴜᴛᴛɪɴɢ ɪᴛ ᴏꜰꜰ ꜰᴏʀ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴘʀᴏᴊᴇᴄᴛꜱ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴀꜱ ɪ ᴋᴇᴘᴛ ᴡᴏʀᴋɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ɪᴛ ɪᴛ ᴋᴇᴘᴛ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ʟᴏɴɢᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴏɴɢᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴜʜʜʜ ᴏᴏᴘꜱ ɪᴛꜱ ᴀʟᴍᴏꜱᴛ 10ᴋ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ. ᴀʟꜱᴏ, ʏᴇᴀʜ, ɪ'ᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ. ʏᴀʏ? ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ.

➼ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ

⋆ ★ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3 ⋆*･ﾟ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀᴍ

Despite the gradual (yet quite quick, in retrospect) increment of your feelings toward the skilled soldier, you do, in fact, notice the blunt sexual appeal of Hunter when you first meet Clone Force 99.

It’s difficult not to; with his long hair you can’t quite place how the Kaminoans allow him to have, the striking skull tattoo, his toned body, and discernable shape even through the heavy armor, you can’t help but flutter your eyelashes and rock your feet back and forth like you’re a schoolgirl all over again. Hunter is the Bad Batch’s essential leader, the closest in appearance to the rivaled ‘regs,’ leading them as their Sergeant and CT-9901, and he stands out more than any other clone you’ve interacted with.

His warm, welcoming, yet slightly wary smile is just as firm as the handshake he gives you when you first meet him, leaning down a little to your height (you’d think clone defects would be the same height, or maybe even shorter than a veritable trooper, but instead you feel enveloped by his vertical. Not that you don’t enjoy the feeling, of course) and nodding firmly.

Then you hear his voice.

It’s only a short sentence; a brief introduction and warm gratitude for joining them as their medic before you acquaint yourself with the rest of the squad. But your ears wrap around the waves of his rough, musky baritone like a magnet. Everything feels as though it’s finally clicked into place and created the perfect picture of your desired man.

Your mind immediately begins to create dreamy rhetoric, wondering silly things to yourself.

Had your mind been aimlessly wandering the galaxy for this long, circling like materials until you finally found an opposite —An opposite so charmingly rugged?

The feeling that rushes through you feels so destined.

Lucky for you, Hunter seems to express his commands frequently with his voice; sometimes hushed through a link, the vibrations of your comm humming pleasantly between the soft undersides of your fingers as he talks.

It always during the times when you’re deep past enemy lines, taking down clankers more efficiently than a Starfleet. Initially too, as you were still trying to memorize their master list of designated plans and being weighed down by the extra weight of regulation armor.

“Don’t go through there yet. Squad of clankers waiting for us.”

“You sure, Hunter? I don’t hear any steps.”

“Take it from the person with enhanced hearing, little medic. Just wait for me.”

Other times when he speaks to you, it’s thunderous commands; ones that he yells out across a field or war front. It frightens you at first, your shoulders jolting and hands instinctively clamping over your ears to deafen the noise, but you quickly realize he’s ordering you to act. Once you get used to the intensity, you come to equally enjoy and indulge how his voice takes on a new edge in fleeting moments of urgency and demand; a once blissful burning of wood turning into threatening crackles, and from there a bleeding forest fire.

“Wrecker, move in! Now, now! Crosshair, how’s the bird's view looking?”

It’s incredibly embarrassing how something as simple as his voice can leave you this breathless. Even from the snide comments he can’t seem to help himself from saying when Wrecker retells stories to you, either from their days as shinies and cadets to missions where you stayed back on the Marauder. Between Tech’s rambling and Wrecker’s enthusiastic narration, the sound of Hunter’s voice becomes even more of a calming sedative to you.

Though it equally arouses you in other moments.

How his morning voice is somehow even lower and raspier than his regular tone is a study that must be researched and conducted by only the galaxy’s best scientists. It seems just so impossible, unbelievable; none of it is inauthentic either—the grogginess is always equally spread through his body, from his tired slouch and ruffled hair, lolling eyes, the unkempt composition of the clothes hung over his broad shoulders and slim waist. It’s unspoken the things you might do if you felt there was even the slimmest chance of starting your every day with that sound so deep and lovely right in your ear.

When he addresses you directly before you both allow yourself the time to sleep, asking you to check on old injuries or patch up new ones he got on the last mission. He always manages to get hurt in the most menial yet bothersome ways, and you’re once again forced into close proximity; you’re beginning to consider paying a few scientists and investigators to study the sexy phenomenon that is Hunter. But either way, you sit legs crossed at the ankles in the cockpit, forcing yourself to zone out on anything he might be saying every few minutes so you don’t have to squirm and change your position in your seat every so often and prevent showing how damn flustered and hot he makes you; in more places than just your cheeks and ears.

In flitting moments you get time to relish in his conjured wavelength, take in the scene you can create with just the sound of his voice; he transports you to a world of the dark morning fog, the red of his bandana the most vibrant sight in your nearest vision as he takes you on the forest floor just like that, no civil thoughts daring to come to each of your minds as he finally gives you the relief you crave for in real life.

Your depraved fantasy of Hunter is all you can dream of when you sit yourself on your fingers, holding back as many of the impoverished whines you wish to let out due to your true desperation for such an attractive man.

And the sweet indulgences you luxuriate in make you selfish. You want more, need to know how he’d sound grunting, moaning your name while his cock lay on your tongue. Or how the oscillations of his words feel on your inner thighs, against your clit when he pushes his fingers past your tight barrier. There’s much more you could learn, could explore if you could attempt an advance. Or simply given something more than slight moments of suggestion that he might have the same deviant desires as you to allow the green light.

You’ve yet to receive such signals. And flimsy fantasies, the work of your fingers to chase unattainable pleasure, and insistent memorization of his voice can only keep you quenched for so long.

“Hunter,” The inadvertent, pathetic whine crawls up your throat the moment you feel his breath on your neck, lingering over your skin even as he pulls back after hearing the noise you make.

“Just a little more,” He reassures you. The hand not firmly gripping your wrist pats your shoulder, and your cheeks flush at the passing fondness. “Let’s try to get one more shot on target and we’ll call it quits, how does that sound?”

With the warmth of your flushed face spreading to the rest of your body, you mutter,

“Sounds good,”

and try to softly shake off your arousal, eyes zeroing in on the middle of the tree, the finger hovering over the trigger surprisingly still. You’re about to take the shot before he starts instructing you again.

“Fix your foot stance,” Hunter gently guides your legs apart with one of his own, fixing the positioning of your feet planted onto the dirt and you take in a deeper breath than you intend to. The fire kindle of his voice and the fire kindle of your core are equal matches now; the husk of his chunked honey tone will certainly turn you to mush if he continues any further, it feels.

Really, how does this oblivious, heart-seizing bastard expect you to keep your focus on this pointless shooting practice when he’s got you this compromised?

“Try again now,” he says after he’s got you in the position he wants. You huff again, letting the fiery stimulation fall to your diaphragm, and breathe down your arousal. Just one hit on the target and you’ll be free of this torture.

But as you lift your arm again, eyes narrowing closer and closer to your prize, the imminent feeling of his leg between yours rears its head. You become so incredibly, annoyingly aware of it, and grimace, biting your lip softly and knitting your eyebrows together to fully get him out of your mind and body. You tug on your bottom lip and pull the trigger.

The bullet lands left side.

A deep groan of frustration leaves you; it sounds much quieter with Hunter’s rumble and grunt in your ear. You gently pull away from his grasp, handing him the blaster, and turn to face him directly. And when you catch that damned expression you promptly decide that you don’t like to see him disappointed; at least, it looks as though he’s disappointed. Eyebrows pinched together with the smallest frown, his chin curled into himself as he looks down at you (Maybe you should look into research for lawyers in the case of when you sue Hunter for the neck pain he’s caused).

“It’s alright,” He assures you, but it doesn’t feel right. And from the way he looks at you, it’s not alright.

“No, it isn’t,” You tell him exactly that, your fingers curling and interlocking together by your stomach. His eyes dart down for a brief moment of scanning, and they don’t linger too long; Maker, you wish you had the power for your eyes not to glue to him and his absolute stature instantly when you enter a space. “I should be better at this by now.”

Hunter clicks his tongue and turns away, as if deep in swirling thought. His gaze comes back to you before you know it.

“You should be,” He agrees, but nothing is degrading or critical in his voice. In his eyes, the wave of gentleness that cascades and shifts his expression, there’s unconditional empathy that you do not deserve and he wouldn’t grace you with if he were to know what you beg him to do to you in your dreams.

“We can try again,” You then insist, but Hunter quickly shakes his head.

“We’ve been working on this for an hour,” He tells you, slickly spinning the blaster back into his holster. He sounds tired as well, a new jaggedness in the smoke tendrils of his voice. “That’s more than enough practice.”

“But I just want to–”

“I know.”

Somehow, those words are more devastating than anything else he’s said. You look back and catch the mysterious glint in his eye, almost as elusive as his words might connotate on a foggy day.

“Trust me,” He continues. You don’t even realize his hand has wandered and softly taken your chin between two fingers until you feel the soft pads brush against your skin; your jaw slacks. He pinches your chin a little tighter to ensure your eyes are fixed on him. “You just want to prove yourself.”

Well, of course, you think to yourself vindictively. It’s enough that you feel ever-so-slightly out of place in a squad of clone troopers, let alone defective ones; not being able to properly handle a blaster in the mere presence of your crush is even more embarrassing. How juvenile.

“We can try again another time. But you’re tired. I can feel it,” He continues. There’s the slightest hint of gentleness you only pick up on because of how you hone all your focus on dissecting and admiring every single crevice of his articulations. Suddenly, he drops your chin, and your head lolls back into place, rather sloppily, and you look up through your eyelashes. “Time for us to sleep, I think.”

With that, Hunter whips around and heads toward the ramp to the Marauder. You’re left there with a smarting jaw, discreetly trying to rub your legs together and take the heat out of the area.

“Alright,” You sigh, glancing around before trotting after him, the white noise keeping your thoughts off of the man in front of you.

Yet, you still picture what his knee had felt like parting your thighs open only half an hour later. Attempting to recreate it with your arm and then your pillow, you give yourself a foggy release and whimper a jumbled version of his name into your pillow before drifting off, body still buzzing with frustration.

The next week, as if the weeks and months before weren’t as excruciating, is pure sexual torture. Not to say it’s entirely filled with frustration and dull aching, however. When you and Hunter have a moment of silence, alone by the cots or the engine or the cockpit together, you both relax into the same, comfortable silence that fills the time.

It’s better to have him not running his mouth off, for sure. You still have to deal with it on deployments and missions, but it’s manageable when you’re knocking down clankers or trying to listen to Tech’s very confusing instructions on how to fly the plane to a certain location to pick them up. But he’s allowing the silence to fester between you two. All the better to preserve the actual sweet, steady relationship you have aside from your fiery attraction, you think.

Hey, it could be worse.

But then the dumbass decides to get himself injured. Get pushed into and dragged against hard durasteel, leaving a gash across his stomach that could challenge Wrecker’s spiderweb scars in its damage. Your jaw practically drops when they return and you see the wound out in the open; you can’t stop yourself before you lurch forward with worried eyes and grasp his wrist around your fingers, pushing him down onto a bench.

As Tech pilots the ship off the planet, the rest all recline and lick their minuscule wounds beside him, while you and Hunter remain cramped in the back, avoiding his gaze and praying to the Maker that he keeps his voice to quiet rough grunts of pain as you try to unclip each different plate of his armor and lay them neatly beside him, tutting when more of his wound is revealed to you.

”Oh my goodness, oh my goodness ohmygoodness,” You stammer to yourself, more and more strained with each breath you take, peeling off the tarnished fabric of his blacks.

“It’s not too bad,” He argues with a soft grin, which slowly fades away when you glare.

“Don’t,” You retort, firm and simple, flashing a genuine look of empathy, and even a drip of fear. If you didn’t know any better, you might think Hunter practically melts under your look with how he slumps and his expression droops. But he’s still an oblivious, sexy fool, you remind yourself.

You don’t even have the energy to fawn over how incredibly attractive he sounds with the rough baritone and anguished sigh-like tone he wears; you instead scramble to open the first aid kit. You can feel his gaze set selectively on you and it doesn’t help. In the corner of your eye, he tilts his head.

“Is everything alright?”

You nod automatically.

“Everything is fine.”

The Marauder jostles in rough air; the ship tilts, your stomach dropping with the altitude change, and you’re unwantedly yanked onto Hunter’s lap with a yelp.

You still for a moment, waiting for the ship to steady again before you become acutely aware of how your chest is almost completely pressed up onto his face. And how your knees are caged over his thighs, your pelvis way too close to his wound for each of your comfort. And pressure against your waist, not too firm but still weighting you to his body–wait, is Hunter holding you to him?

Your eyes widen and you stumble off, stammering nonsensically and afraid to gaze upon his face. You don’t for a long moment, before grabbing the disinfectant and pouring it onto a cloth.

Silence festers between the two of you. When Hunter does speak, it’s not to you.

“Tech! Get her steady, would you?” He yells across the ship, vexed and evidently not in an ideal mood. Tech immediately retorts in his typical, inappropriately casual, intellectual tone,

“That is not a light request, Hunter. I am already trying.”

Hunter scoffs and you finally get the gall to look at him. He exchanges a mutual look of annoyance and manages to grin wider for you. The sight soothes your frayed ends ever so slightly, and you stare down at his stomach again at the wound, biting your lip as you inspect the damage.

Your hands come to the hem of his blacks and you give him a silent ask with your eyes.

“Is it alright if I take this off?”

He hums, which you take as a yes, and you slowly peel it off of his skin, trying very, very hard to ensure your stare doesn’t linger. He looks at you with a mysterious gaze that's too hard to place for your liking. But you just try and shake it off as you slowly dab his wound with the bacta-dipped cloth, pressing it firm against the injury.

When he hisses, you perk up with wide eyes.

“Did that hurt?”

Hunter clenches his teeth and nods slowly, and you pull away with shaky hands. His arms reach out, encircling his fingers around your wrist, and guides them back tenderly.

“It’s alright,” He says, his tone dropping down an octave as your hands tremble again in his grasp. You gain the courage to look up at him, biting your lip softly. The grin he wears manages to soothe your nerves, just a little. “I’ve got you, girl. Just let me guide you so you don’t hurt me.”

You let out a shaky exhale of relief, and he sighs, dipping his chin down, but keeping the intense eye contact.

“How does that sound?”

“Good,” You squeak, the rise and fall of your chest the only constant managing to soothe your fried senses. After a couple of breaths, you finish your thought. “Better.” You press onto a side of his wound, softly spreading the bacta onto it; your eyes don’t separate from his once. “How’s that?”

He huffs, not of frustration or annoyance, but more a comforting relief.

"Fine. Keep going."

The rasp stirs between the space between the two of you, and you take a deep breath before you can do anything else.

With the firm grasp on your wrists and the low tendrils of his voice softly directing you, you continue to tend to his wound, your hands moving deftly over his skin. The thick, intoxicating tension in the air is palpable; the lingering silence between you weighs heavy despite your best attempts to snap yourself out of it and take care of him like you're supposed to.

It's not your fault he just sounds so damn sexy all the time.

"Careful, careful," He tuts when you're stitching up a particularly bad spot, pressing your fingers around the skin and holding it there as you thread the stitch through. "Just a little gentler, please."

Then, "Avoid that spot, please. I can't even-- shit -- breathe without it hurting. Just stitch around it. Yeah, just like that. Good job, little medic," As you're finishing up.

Once you finish wrapping the bandage firmly over the wound and around his waist, taping it firmly to him, he dislodges his fingers from where it's wrapped around your wrist, bringing it to your chin and manhandling you slightly to get a better look into your eyes.

"See, ‘wasn't so bad, was it?" He flashes you a grin, obviously masking the pain etching into his limbs, all to calm your nerves. The fact that he's making such a constant effort to make you feel better despite his state makes you positively soft. "You did great."

You grin back, nodding and averting your eyes.

"Thank you."

There's a pause before he bludgeons you with his next sentence.

"You enjoy getting instructions."

Your eyes widen; you almost drop the first aid kit; everything stills, your chest tight as you process his words. Shit, what the fuck?

What the fuck?

"Wh--What?" You stammer, taking a small step backward and tilting your head to appear more confused and insulted by the accusation. Maybe if you appear offended, he’ll take it back. "Who said that?"

"You don’t need to say it. I can feel it," He continues, gaze thoughtfully fixated on you. He doesn't even falter when you seem to panic. "I can see it." You try to gawk at him to make him feel stupid, make him retract what he's saying, but either he's so certain or you don't seem very convincing.

No matter; you're still fucked.

"You like getting told what to do."

Your heart pounds, and Hunter just sits there, legs spread leisurely, his eyebrow slightly raised in expectation. Seriously, what does he expect you to answer with? Does he want you to fess up and admit how depraved and desperate you are for his touch, then run off mortified to never speak to him again? Surely he doesn’t expect you to take.

Defeated, you sigh and softly run your hands over your work again, avoiding his burning gaze.

"Only from you," you mutter, then immediately pray devotedly to the Maker he doesn't hear. Hunter hums, a tone of question in his voice, then you proceed to figuratively jump off a cliff as you remember this fucker has enhanced senses.

"Why’s that, mesh’la?" He asks. Instinctively, your eyebrows knit together when the new nickname graces your ears.

"What does mesh’la mean?"

Hunter doesn't seem very phased. Can't you just throw him off his rhythm once?

"Don’t worry about that," He quickly excuses your question as a distraction from the question at hand. "But tell me why you only enjoy getting instructions from me."

There's something smug to the way he talks, hidden behind insistent concern and curiosity.

"Why’s that, tell me."

Your hand comes up to hide your face, but he takes it and keeps it away from disfiguring his view of your expression. You want to babble; you can feel your face heating up. Instead, you frown.

"I, uh," You try to discreetly rub your thighs together languidly, easing the tension and buildup of heat in between them. A huff leaves his lips that sounds oddly close to a chuckle.

"Come on," You lift your head, perplexed for a split moment, but then he pats the top of his thigh. You blink once, then twice, then another time for good measure, just to make sure you're seeing correctly. Is he... what's he even implying?

"Sit down. On my lap."

Oh. That’s what.

Your mouth opens, a strange sound bordering on a choke leaving your throat as you try to retort or deny him. He only raises his eyebrows and dips his chin down, gesturing toward his lap again.

You huff, eyebrows knitted, and take a small step toward him, slowly, and you envelop his figure, trapping his legs between your knees and careening slightly, hands still meeting at your stomach, unsure of where to move. He nods encouragingly.

“Good job, just like that,” He praises you, hands slowly rising to rest on the handles of your hips, fingers tracing your waist. You take a sharp intake of breath, eyes drifting down to where your bodies meet, and look back up at him again. Hunter’s wearing this oh-so-innocent, deer-in-headlights expression you know is bantha-shit. “What’s got you so hot and bothered?”

You sough vindictively, averting your eyes.

“Stop teasing me.”

He laughs— though it’s more of a snarky, yet affectionate chuckle. You feel so naked in his presence, given such focused, vehement attention.

“I’m not teasing. Just concerned,” He tells you. The problem is, Hunter does well making you think he’s actually this clueless when he does know and just wants to hear it from your lips.

“Mhm,” You hum sarcastically with a pout.

He manages to grin at you, the corners of his eyes scrunching up as he looks at you. You let your eyes come back to him.

“I can do both, can’t I?” He offers.

“Sure,” You retort.

Squinting his eyes, he casually rubs his hands up and down the sides of your body.

“I’ll figure it out, one way or another,” He affirms, ending the sentence with a wink; you take a deep breath, letting your jaw slack. Hunter keeps talking like there’s nothing thick in the air between you.

“Put your hands on my shoulders.”

You furrow your eyebrows; he pouts like an upset child. Chastising, you huff and do as he says. When your hands shake slightly, he continues giving you instructions. They are so simple, yet they seem so alluring and nuanced in this context. In his voice.

”Steady yourself. Yeah, like that. Good.”

You wiggle your hips slightly, and something boils in his stomach slightly, something bordering on a groan. Your legs are warming up but you have no way to close them and satiate yourself. So all you can do is squirm.

Hunter perks up in concern.

“Are you comfortable?”

You take a moment to respond but then nod.

“Good.” Hunter grins softly, patting your left hip. For a moment, he decides to rake his eyes over you appreciatively, almost in the same way you do when you assume he isn’t looking. “I’m glad.”

Offering a civil smile of mutual understanding, you wiggle your hips, trying to find a better position if you’re going to be compromised on his lap.

”Trail your hands down for me.”

It's hard to deny or disobey him with a voice like that, especially when you know it’s directed toward you. So you slowly let your hands slip from his shoulders and descend his chest and torso.

“Yeah, down,” He encourages you when you reach the top of his wrapped wound. “Maybe try to avoid the gash.”

You lift your hands and let only the pads of your fingers place feather-light touches over the wrapping. When your hands begin to tremble again the further you descend, reaching his pelvis, he tuts to stop you. “That’s a good place to stop.”

You look up again with wide eyes, trying to stop your erratic (embarrassing) trembles and tilt your head. There’s more he’s going to say. At least it seems so.

“Whenever you’re ready, put your hand over my crotch.” He gives you a soft look of reassurance, making sure you’re completely comfortable in this position, before finishing. “I want you to feel me.”

Gasping softly, you pull your hand away, fingers curling into your palm and gripping tightly. A shiver runs through you, and you can’t seem to figure out if it’s from shock or pleasure.

“What?” You begin, eyes flitting from his face and back. “H-Hunter, I shouldn’t.”

“I’m asking you to.” Polite insistence is the game he plays. If this truly is a trap, you might happily fall if it means you get to touch him. He runs his hands over your curves again. “I want you to.”

You tense further, something bordering on fear in your eyes. Hunter notices and frowns while he clarifies:

“Unless you don’t want it. ‘Cause then… we can stop. No hard feelings…”

You can see how he’s getting lost in his thoughts. For a split moment, that perfect composure he holds in your presence fractures; he seems insecure and nervous; anticipating inevitable rejection because he’s pushed you too far.

That isn’t the case.

As you finally press your palm to his bulge, you contain your gasp. He’s big. And so hard.

“Fuck,” He groans, head tilting back. “Feel that?”

Oh kriff, that rumble. It’s warm and smooth yet rough all the same, creeping its way over your skin until you’re forced to keep the faintest whimper from leaving your throat. You string your lips tight and nod.

“Mhm,” Is the only thing that manages to leave your mouth, whiny and soft. You palm him further, as if the fabric would simply tear away and you could finally feel his skin on yours. He hums again, and you’re left looking doe-eyed in his direction. “Shit, Hunter.”

He throws a heavy statement onto you.

“It’s my voice, isn’t it?”

You tilt your head up, containing the urge to gasp.

“What?”

“What’s making you so hot and bothered,” He continues. You want to look away, hide your face in your hands with humiliating embarrassment, but you’re trembling so much on top of him that you can’t even flit your eyes away. “You like my voice. And you like it when I tell you what to do.”

You gasp lightly when you feel his warm hand on your thigh. Your cunt twitches and it really shouldn’t. He’s barely doing anything.

“Well,” he continues, raising an eyebrow. “Are you going to deny it?”

The answer is delivered non-verbally. You relax into his lap, palm pressing further to his bulge, and then you squeeze oh so gently. That heavenly groan graces your ears and you devoutly catalog it into your mind for later recollection.

His chin dips down to catch a glimpse of your hand before he meets your eyes.

“Mesh’la,” he says; even without knowing what it means, just hearing how he speaks with such beguile and worship tells all that you need to know. “Mesh’la… can you do something for me?”

“Yeah. Of course. Anything,” You stammer out with a slack jaw, far too enthusiastic. Hunter doesn’t seem to regard it as anything distorting the absolute utmost respect that he must feel while he has you in his lap with your hand on his dick.

“Slip your pants off.”

It’s practically instinctual how efficiently you gingerly push yourself off of his lap and follow his order. With your hands chastely placed above your waistband, you let your thumbs push past, then await Hunter to grant you to pull them off. His eyes dilate with the view, and he nods.

The pants find their way to the ground clumsily, and you cringe internally at your lack of grace, but when you finally catch sight of Hunter’s expression, perhaps it’s nothing to worry about.

He looks… starved. Hypnotized by the splendor in front of him, for his eyes and his hands and his body only to touch, feel, hold, take.

“You’re… fuck,” he sighs, sounding out of breath, as though you’d just swept his leg and taken him off his feet. His hand methodically strokes up and down his thigh, only lightly grazing the tent in his pants as he takes his eyes over how you look, over and over again.

“You’re stunning,” he finally manages to say. His hand stops stroking to pat his thigh lightly, and his voice simmers in a way you know is on purpose. “C’mere, sit on my lap again.”

“Are you sure?” You ask for permission despite rocking your feet back and forth to shimmy your way back. As you gesture toward the bandages wrapped around his middle, Hunter huffs and frowns with miffed frustration. “You’re still injured.”

Hunter gripes to himself as he pushes himself up, placing his hands on your hips and pulling you to the free space between his two hard, firm thighs. His dexterity surprises you. The warmth radiating from his body does even more.

“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”

Oh.

Shit.

He looks the part, certainly; you only try to feel the faintest tremble of his fingers when his hands float away from your hips to sit on the top of his legs again,

“Okay,” You mutter aimlessly, reaching up to your face to brush your hair away in a measly attempt to look more presentable. Your voice is just a squeaky little thing, and it’s so incredibly humiliating. “Okay…”

“It’s alright,” Hunter tries to soothe you, and you breathe shallowly.

“I know that.” Your tongue runs over your bottom lip and you heave. “I just…”

Before you’re able to process what’s happening, Hunter’s reaching a hand out to cup your face. Despite the coarseness of his skin, his callouses fall on your cheek, it’s so tender, and you melt into his touch.

“Do you need some guidance, little medic?”

With a slight whine, you nod, letting your lashes flutter. Hunter lets his thumb swipe over your bottom lip, and your mouth parts. He grins at your unprompted compliance.

“Then let me tell you what to do. Let me tell you how to touch yourself and make you come from that, and my voice too.”

A depraved noise is choked out of you.

“Fuck,” your head careens to the side, but his firm hold on the side of your face keeps your gaze on him. His grin turns more into a cheeky smirk.

“How does that sound?” He asks. You nod adamantly before he tries to change his mind, so worried that he’ll push you away at any moment. As though he can read your mind, the hand that was still on the back of your thigh takes a gentle squeeze before trailing up your body, taking appreciative feels of your ass and hips before settling on your waist again.

“Mm…” You hum, reveling in the sensation. “Really good.”

Hunter gives you a half-crooked smile, and you want to cuss him out, or yourself, you’re not sure who to be fed up with.

“Come on, little medic,” He urges you on, patting your hip. “Slip your hand down your panties.”

Wordlessly, you let a trembling hand descend down your body. You have little dignity left in you to try and make yourself appear more seductive, but you hope your image isn’t so repulsive. The moment your fingertips make contact with your heat, your fingers grazing over your mons and clit, your mouth falls open in a silent gasp.

Hunter tilts his head.

“How does it feel? Are you wet?”

He should know already, smug bastard.

“Yeah,” you nod, keening further into his touch when he tilts his chin down, leaning toward your ear.

He takes a gentle lick, so light that if you weren’t in his grasp you wouldn’t have noticed.

“How wet?”

Your hips instinctively buck to rub yourself over your hand, a rush of arousal washing over you.

“Re–“ You swallow a wad of spit sitting on your tongue. “Really wet.”

Hunter’s lips are gentle when they undulate as he speaks oh so close to your ear, quiet and warm, words just for you.

“Just from my voice?” When he asks this time, you don’t detect much smugness; he wants the confirmation and credibility for a foundation of fact he’s built for himself.

You nod, but add on more.

“Not just that.”

“Hm?” His dark rumble travels down your spine and you squirm with pleasant upheaval. Your hand is still awkwardly lodged down your panties with nothing to do.

“Tell me more,” he demands with an assuasive croon. With one last kitten lick that lingers on the shell of your ear, he allows his lips to wander, mouthing against your skin, leaving delicate kisses on your temple, your jaw, and any moles and freckles in his nearest vicinity while he awaits your answer.

“I, uh,” you begin, awaiting to land on a coherent stream of words loosely strung together to fall on your tongue. “your—“

Just as you feel something begin to tie, your gaze drops down. Hunter palms his full erection over his blacks, languidly as though without a care, and the thought of him being aroused by this, aroused by you, slaps your mind into a render less zone.

“—fuck.”

He chuckles right in your damn face, and Maker he’s just too pretty not to kiss. But you resist the temptation with the festering worry of crossing the barrier past simple attraction into affection.

So you swallow slow and hard and try to compose a sentence.

“Your, face—“

Yeah, real eloquent, idiot.

“—That skull tattoo, it’s, well, shit…”

Your tongue wraps around itself again, words becoming more and more hard to piece together the longer you think about it. All that your primal mind begs you to think of is the olympic man presented under you, and the heat that radiates off the both of you.

“Alright now, you don’t have to continue,” Hunter huffs with no real malice contained in his words. It still makes you cringe nonetheless.

“That bad?” You ask with a clenched jaw.

A simple head shake is all you receive, but it’s more than enough to sedate a growing burn in the pit of your stomach. The hand not pressed to his crotch gently holds your hip, thumb swiping over your panties and bare skin; he even dares to let it slip past the waistband. The accurate awareness of your hand pressed to your pussy returns to you.

“Don’t want you to focus your energy on that,” he clarifies, eyes looking into yours with a softness you’ve never associated with Hunter. You’d find it peculiar in a regular conversation, but everything about this interaction has been anything but normal.

You suddenly realize you’re at a loss again. “So what do you want me to do?” You ask because you feel humiliated just straddling him like this.

Hunter puffs out his chest and you prepare yourself for the worst.

A coarse hand presses to your navel, trailing up underneath your shirt to sketch an image of your body underneath, stopping right where “Rub your pussy for me.”

It’s worded like a demand, but he voices it as though it’s a request. Your body wants to tense and retract, but the palm spread over the expanse of your stomach prevents you.

“You can do that,” Hunter encourages you, almost as though you were a creature he’s saddled on to ride. Though in this instance, you’d much rather be the one to ride. “Can’t you? For me?”

With a huff, you look away and nod bashfully. It’s wordless when you begin to move your hand, let your fingers get soaked as they rub up and down, up and down… you’re almost too tense to really feel the sensation, but Hunter’s doting gaze and his firm hand on your stomach keep you grounded. As you collect slick, running your fingers through your folds, it takes heavy petting for you to relax your jaw and let out the most pleasantly pathetic whimper.

Hunter groans, adding fuel to the flame flourishing in your pants, a dark sound of thunder rumbling in the sky, forewarning something much more devastating.

“Yeah, just like that,” he encourages you in that same husky tone following the groan. “Rock your hips too.”

You do so diligently, using your palm to press against your clit as a foundation for the rest of your hand to move leisurely while you rock your hips into himself. Hunter’s hand retracts from your stomach, fingers curling into his palms as he lets his knuckles graze against your skin. When you shiver, he takes it as an invitation to shush you gently against your temple, before his hand falls to your waist again.

The moment you glance down, you have to tip your chin back with an ascendant sigh. He’s got his hand over his clothed erection, palming it with a firm hand, almost absentmindedly as he keeps his eyes on you.

“Fuck, Hunter…” The desperate, embarrassing whimper comes out of you far more loud than you intend. Hunter shushes you gently.

“Keep quiet for me,” he commands; how are you meant to be by him when he speaks like that?

“Good?” He then asks, seemingly seeking approval good enough for him to continue. “Do I sound as good as you imagined?”

You want to say yes, declare it to the entire galaxy, and tell him just how wonderful this man is, but you’re far too overwhelmed by all the pleasurable sensations disrupting your thought process. So instead you nod.

That seems to satisfy Hunter, and the smallest smirk curls on his lips as he watches you squirm and rock your hips into your hands.

“Don’t you as well.”

With a hum, you try to dismiss the comment. But only as you let it sit does the implication of his words sink to your stomach. But he doesn’t allow you to dwell on it for too long, it seems, as he continues,

“I want you to keep touching yourself. Do whatever you need to for me. Whatever makes you come.”

He pats his incredibly intimidating bulge as though it’s an invitation.

“Right here, on my lap.”

You resist the dizzyness that threatens to overtake your senses, but as you steady your breaths, you suddenly feel so exposed. Far too exposed compared to Hunter.

So you try to level the playing field.

“Would you… er…”

If only your words could come out correctly. Hunter raises an eyebrow, perked with a cheeky glint in his eye.

“Hm?” He hums.

You grunt and attempt again to tunnel out the words. Like a plow shoveling out snow or sand.

“It—It feels unfair that I’m the only one here getting off.”

You wince as you finish the sentence. Maker, you sound so clunky and awkward. So much for being seductive.

But Hunter hums with total compliance, letting his hand trail up to where his bottoms cling to his skin.

“‘Guess you’re right.” Slowly, oh-so-slowly, Hunter peels back the waistband of his blacks, letting his hand slip through to free his cock from underneath the garments.

You think you’ve been knocked out for a healthy minute when you get a proper look. You’d never imagine describing a cock as pretty, but just like everything else, Hunter may become an exception. His fingers curl around the base with rather ease, before reaching up with it to his chin. He opens his mouth, letting a wad of spit collect and drop onto his palm, allowing him to stroke his cock with a more slick movement.

Maker, he’s so… so…

No, that can’t be right. His cock is far too thick for his hand to wrap around it so easily. But then you remember his proportions, especially compared to yours. A small chuckle leaves you when you imagine how you might try to wrap a full hand around his length.

Hunter leisurely strokes himself, eyes set on yours with an intensity that makes your stomach leap bounds up to your chest.

“Now it’s more fair, little medic,” he says. “Don’t you think?”

You nod adamantly with no hesitation.

“Yeah, yeah…” Your fingers deftly move to trap your clit between your index and middle, your mouth falling open when you feel the pressure hum over you. “Shit.”

Hunter huffs with a smugly saccharine look, his hand slowly stroking up and down his cock, lingering at the tip before he returns down again.

“You look really good like this.”

You tilt your head and grunt in disbelief. It’s hard to believe him when you feel simultaneously so powerful and so humiliated. Even though he’s just as physically exposed as you, you still feel more vulnerable.

“Do I now?” Despite being sarcastic, you try not to come off too mean.

But then Hunter sighs out the most exasperated, “ Fuck yeah,” his chin tipping upwards as he gathers his breath, tongue darting out to lick his lips, eyes half closed while he squeezes the tip of his dick, and you’re left render less to your own attraction again.

He seems to see the disbelief in your eyes.

“Don’t you believe me, mesh’la?” He asks. You remain still. “You really need me to spell out just how hot you look right now? How sexy .”

“Hunter,” you whine.

He continues without regarding you.

“I’m trying so hard not to— fuck—“ he tenses his stomach as he tries to compose himself. “—just blow my load right now. You’re just so— so pretty and pliant and so damn obedient .” You tremble slightly, and Hunter reaches to hold the back of your neck; not before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, of course.

“Listening to my every order,” he continues, oddly affectionate.

A rush of confidence flows through your veins. You try to smirk, but instead it comes out toothy and bashful.

“That’s my job, sergeant.”

Hunter groans, his fingers curling into your neck, one pressing to your pulse point so purposefully.

“Fuck, don’t say stuff like that,” he says, shaking his head, though he doesn’t seem too displeased. “Or else this’ll be really short.”

You giggle, trying to look away, but Hunter’s grip on your neck keeps your head in place. You blink rapidly, suddenly overwhelmed by his stare. But you can’t. Move.

You whisper out a weak, “Keep talking,” before your eyes shut close. You press your palm to your clit, whining softly. Hunter uses the grip on your neck to bring you in closer, whispering slow and softly into your ear with purposeful oscillations of his lips,

“I wonder how you’ll feel around me.” You sigh out the faintest hint of his name in surprise, just as you begin to press a finger into your entrance. “I bet you’re so tight you’ll squeeze me out. Warm, and hot, and loud .”

“Fuck,” you swear, both in response to his words and to the feeling of a single finger pumping in and out of you. You’ve done little to stimulate yourself and cum, but somehow you’re already feeling an anticipated crawl up of an orgasm.

The things Hunter does to you.

“I want your mouth on my cock too.”

You clench involuntarily o over your finger, bucking your hip so your clit catches against your palm. Oh. He isn’t done.

“‘Thinking we’d both have fun if I tried a hand at commanding you around, fucked your face a little.”

Hunter tilts his head. as though expecting a response, so you nod your head — or tilt your chin down, you’re unsure— and he grins in deep settled approval at your compliance.

“How does that sound, hm?”

In a split moment of respite, while he awaits your response, you gaze down, watch his hand wrap around his cock with more insistence than before, stroke at the same rate you move. The hand on your hip drifts down to hold your hip again, rocking you with more fervor. Inadvertently, the movement forces your fingers in a new direction that grazes your g-spot just so perfectly, and you’re sighing again.

“ Oh… ”

The silence becomes too long for Hunter to bear, and he grunts.

“Answer me, mesh’la,” his tone is commanding, yet not overbearing. You appreciate it considering the sliver of shame remaining in your stomach. “Would you like that?”

“I’d–I’d like it,” you stammer out, slowly rubbing a second finger down your folds before pressing in slowly to meet the other. “A lot … fuck.”

With a tilt of his head, Hunter leans in closer, lips dangerously close to yours and for a split moment you consider pulling away.

“Something the matter?” He asks, but he knows the answer. Hunter can damn well see how your legs begin to twitch and shake more rapidly, the unsteadiness of your breathing as you simultaneously calm yourself and try to bring about your high.

“You fucking know what’s the matter, Hunter,” you bark back.

“I don’t think I’m sure exactly,” he responds dismissively. “Could you say it clearly, just in case?”

Something you hope sounds like a playful growl leaves you, but in reality, it probably sounds like a moth cat purring.

“You bastard .” There’s no real bite to your insult, and Hunter knows it, so he grins.

“I do my best.”

Your pleasure overtakes you and a shiver runs from the top of your spine to your legs, your thumb moving to properly rub your clit.

“Oh, fuck, I’m close,” you’re moaning out before you know it, voice dwindling so you’re not too loud.

“Ah,” Hunter hums, affectionately rubbing your hip. “That’s what I thought. ‘Was just making sure.”

His strokes have become more erratic and frantic, but his composure doesn’t give it away. If you weren’t to gaze down, you’d have no tell how aroused he truly was. Though perhaps that’s how he wants it to be— you’re a pretty mess while he’s the foundation to keep you upright.

Suddenly, he’s talking again, using the hand on your hip to encourage you to keep rocking.

“Come on, you pretty thing,” he rumbles. “Come for me and I’ll come for you.” Then you’re remembering what brought you to this attraction in the first place; that damn voice of his. Truly, and you mean truly, never saw yourself being in this position; situated over Hunter’s lap, touching yourself for him while he gets off to you and only you.

With one more curl of your fingers against your g-spot and your thump insistently rubbing your clit, you’re over the hill, and you’re twitching and rocking your hips over and over in arches of your back, jumbled syllables vaguely making up Hunter’s name spilling from your lips like sticky sweet sugar.

That’s when you hear it. When you glance down to catch his spend start to spill on his bare skin the bandages of his, he groans out the most pleasant incantation of your name you’ve ever heard. The moment the noise graces your ears, you’re certain that you never want to hear anything else. Or at the least, any other version of your name.

A few moments pass where you remain panting in each other's presence, his hands remaining render less at your side, rubbing up and down in uncoordinated patterns, while your hands grip his shoulders. You only start to pull away from him as you catch your bearings— and your dignity.

Hunter interrupts you by grabbing the wrist of the hand you had stuffed down your panties. He leans in closer, tongue darting out like a teasing little offer.

“Can I get a taste, mesh’la?” His voice is slow, and warm, like honey pouring into a pot of tea—in any other situation, it would sedate your nerves. But those words ignite that fuel inside you. You press your fingers still coated in slick to his lips, and he opens his mouth graciously, letting his tongue swirl around your digits with a gracious hum that vibrates your skin. Your other hand drops to his chest just before where the gash begins and holds onto it with a tremorous touch.

Hunter pulls away with a resounding ‘pop’ that makes you cringe, but not pull your eyes away.

“Delicious,” he remarks.

Your face is hot again and Hunter is smiling wide, but you’ve figured out by now he means no malicious intent with his mannerisms. His hand reaches out, cradling your face

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Hunter admires you with a glint in his eye you’ve never seen before. Sure, you’ve seen affection— plenty at this point— but there’s a tenderness to his words as he continues. It still doesn’t feel fair to not return the compliment, however.

“You’re one to talk.”

The only response you get is a scoff.

“Have you ever seen yourself?” He asks, posing the rhetoric as if you’d go out of the way to compliment yourself. It’s hard to feel anything more than pretty when you have the most handsome man trapped between your thighs.

Hunter doesn’t budge — states it like a fact, as though he truly believes it. “I always get ravenous just looking at you.”

“Oh,” You reply dumbly. “I… I didn’t think.” Your ability to talk to Hunter improves after getting off for him, it seems.

“You thought wrong,” he replies, shaking his head slightly with a smile. He leans his head down, looking better at your face before reaching with his palm to hold your cheek with hands so calloused they feel soft.

“You’re a capable woman, a great addition to the batch–” Your cheeks heat up, and he smiles. “--And I think you’re beautiful. Mesh’la. That’s what that means.”

Your hand crawls up slowly against his arm, unknowingly following the pattern of his skeleton tattoo before your much smaller hand is placed against his.

“Hunter…” You whine.

He tilts his head, that goofy smile still stuck on his face. “What?”

“You flatter me.” With a shake of your head, you unpeel yourself from his lap, and Hunter whines so, so soft as you do to the point you almost leap back onto his lap again.

“I’m being honest,” Hunter insists, lazily using the underside of his blacks to clean his spend off his skin and the bandages. You’re standing idly, stupidly, and you know he’s waiting for you to say something— and you do, you do, but you don’t know what.

“Well, thank you,” you finally answer, attempting to compose yourself. You awkwardly place your feet back into the holes of your pants, pulling them up in a swift motion that leaves you put away wet, but you care very little at this point.

You look up at Hunter, appreciatively looking over his features, before a forlorn feeling fills your stomach when you gaze down at his lips. You felt them delicately graze against your ear, wrap around your fingers to gently suck and lap at the spend coating them, yet you haven’t felt them against yours once.

He notices the look on your face.

“Something up?” He asks.

In retrospect, it must’ve been a rush of confidence through your veins after having him in such a vulnerable state only a moment ago, but you truly don’t know where your next words come from.

“Can I have a kiss?”

You expect, hope even, for Hunter to be thrown off his rhythm so he can be on the same level as you for once. Rather he takes a step closer to you, his hand methodically wrapping around the back of your neck again, thumb pressing the juncture between your jaw and throat for that extra leisure, feeling your pulse as he pulls you in for a kiss.

In your dreams, Hunter's kisses are wholly devouring. But in reality, it’s warm, tender, brimming with an underlying passion you least expected. As his lips press against yours, you can feel the velvet caress of his skin, the exchange of breath between the two of you that makes you hum into him.

His other hand rises to gently stroke your back before pulling you closer, and you feel so enveloped in his embrace that neither of you will be harmed again. You press your foreheads together and pull away, each taking slow, savoring breaths.

Truly, you never expected to be in this situation.

“...I don’t want this to be a one-time thing,” you mutter shyly, a bashful look on your face. It’s that little smile, that damned voice of his, that delivers the final blow, sending you back into his striking orbit.

“Of course,” Hunter tells you, smooth as ever. “I still haven’t gotten to be inside you.”

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starrylothcat · 7 months

Text

Deserved

Pairing: Crosshair x Gen!Reader

Summary: Crosshair wakes up next to you.

Warnings: None. A lil’ fluff. A lil’ angst. Spoilers for S3.

WC: 300

A/N: I have so many feelings after the season premiere! Crosshair is making me act up. I wrote this little drabble bc I love him. Enjoy!

Crosshair opened his eyes, expecting to see the dark durasteel ceiling of his cell.

As his eyes focused in the early morning light, he quickly realized he was somewhere else. The pillow beneath his head was soft. His back was comfortable on a mattress, not in pain from the hard cot he spent his sleeping and waking hours on in the detainment facility.

A soft sound broke the silence, and Crosshair turned his head.

You were asleep, peaceful and beautiful, your chest slowly rising with each breath.

That’s right. He was here. With you.

Crosshair let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He could feel the familiar panic and anxiety in his gut fading. Seeing you next to him brought him back to reality.

Crosshair slowly lifted a hand, ever so gently brushing his fingers across your cheek.

You smiled, mumbling his name, but didn’t wake.

Your skin was warm and soft. You grounded him.

His fingers trembled slightly, but not from his anguished memories. His hands have steadied ever since being with you, though not fully gone.

Instead, they trembled with emotion. How could someone so perfect, so forgiving, so strong, be next to him every morning when he wakes.

He still didn’t think he deserves this, or deserves you.

He knows it’s a stupid thought, but Crosshair is still amazed daily that you continue to stand by him.

Crosshair had accepted his fate, ready to die in the Empire’s grasp, to rot away in a cell as they took what they needed from him.

All it took was someone to believe in him. Omega didn’t give up on him. Neither did his brothers. Neither did you.

Crosshair pressed his lips to your forehead, shifting himself closer to you, to feel your body fully against his.

You wrapped your arms around him, uttering something before nuzzling into his chest, quickly falling back to sleep.

Crosshair closed his eyes, focusing on both of your breathing. Crosshair felt himself slipping into a dream, a pleasant one filled with your warmth. His last thought before succumbing to sleep was maybe he did deserve this. Maybe it was time to forgive himself.

But that could wait until later. Right now, he just wanted to be held by you.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Reblogs and Comments are Love! ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

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#crosshair x reader #crosshair x you #crosshair tbb #crosshair #tbb spoilers #the bad batch #the bad batch spoilers #tbb s3 #tbb s3 spoilers #crosshair fanfiction #the bad batch fanfiction #tbb crosshair #the bad batch x reader #tbb #the bad batch season 3 #tbb fanfiction #starrycatwrites #tbb crosshair x reader

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leenabb104104 · 29 days

Text

Those pretty curls (just like his twin!)….and is that a little smile I see? I think our boy is healing 😭💚💕

@legacygirlingreen @thora-sniper @sukithebean @thecoffeelorian @neyswxrld @somewhere-on-kamino @clonethirstingisreal @royallykt @morerandombullshit @burningfieldof-clover @tbnrpotato @keantha @anxiouspineapple99

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lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom · 7 months

Note

Could you do one where the reader had been in a relationship with Hunter before being taken with Omega on Tantiss. Now that they're reunited, Hunter realizes that he wants to marry the reader?

With a little bit of Wrecker and Crosshair friendly teasing Hunter.

Marry Me?

Hunter x Reader

Summary- After an insufferable separation from you, Hunter realizes his true feelings. That he never wants to be apart from you- that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.

Part Two right here! Part Three right here!

A/N- SPOILERS FOR SEASON 3 OF THE BAD BATCH!!!! You have been warned! Thank you so much for requesting babes! Hope you like it! <3 <3

Word Count- 1,755

Beautiful Screen Shot by @isthereanechoinhere96

"Omega... It's- It's been months. We don't even know if they're still aliv-"

You felt shame rise up in your chest when you agreed with Crosshair. He was right, time had gone by slowly and there was no way of knowing if Hunter and Wrecker were alive. Your sweet sweet Hunter. The man who only showed he heart for the people he deeply loved. You were lucky to be one of them.

"They'll be there." Omega stated. She was so sure... but all you could think about were the doubts. Omega was always able to be more trusting and optimistic than you. Constant fear of losing your family limited you severely.

You swallowed deeply and looked down to Omega, pushing your anxieties down. "They will be." Were you trying to convince Crosshair or yourself?

The next few minutes of hyper-space felt like days. You were so eager. Everything was either going to get a million times worse, or a million times better.

Omega guided the ship to a remote planet you had never heard of, a deep blue over taking you.

Picking at your nails nervously, you stood- ready to depart. Crosshair noticed this and eyed you. He was nervous as well, but for different reasons.

You almost sobbed when you saw the Marauder in the distance. Hope bubbled in your chest, all thoughts of doubt escaped you.

The second the door lowered with a steam, Omega ran out of the ship. You followed her quickly behind.

She stopped at the mid-point between the ships. Wrecker slowly exited the Marauder, "Now there's a sight!"

You laughed, the tension dissipated. Omega ran to him and Wrecker picked her up, spinning around. "Wrecker!" She responded.

The sight made tears of joy fall. To see Omega so happy was enough for you.

"And I wasn't even sure your message was real!" Wrecker half-joked, still holding Omega up.

"Wrecker, I knew you'd show up!" Her words made your ears ring, did Hunter show up? Well, of course he did! That would be dumb for him to leave Wrecker... Unless, unless he wasn't alive to leave.

Your brain ran wild, why hadn't Hunter come out yet? It was almost as if Wrecker read your mind, he rested a hand on your shoulder after lowering Omega.

Just then, another set of footsteps came out. Hunter skipped steps to get to you and Omega.

Your hands shot up to cover your gasp, tears falling fast now. Omega got to Hunter first- you knew she needed it more.

He crouched down and hugged Omega deeply, his words drowned out. What you did make out was him saying your name, an arm stretched out for you and an arm holding Omega tightly.

You met him as fast as your feet would let you. "Hunter..." You whispered, face immediately meeting his neck as he pulled you close.

His arm pulled you in, crushing you against him in a pleasant way.

He pulled back to pepper your face with kisses, then a deep one on the lips. A few of your tears dripped onto his face, mixing with his own.

Omega giggled and pulled on your arm, you pulled back to let her back in on the hug. All three of you were lifted when Wreckers arms grasped around the bunch of you.

Wrecker pulled everyone up, making the embrace tighter. It was like your perfect little family was back again.

That night, after abandoning the empire's ship, was filled with more hugs, catching up, tears, and awkward conversations with Crosshair. You couldn't have wished for anything better. Your family, all in one place. Save for Echo, but you learnt he was safe with Rex- that made you smile.

You helped Omega settle into her room. You noticed too many yawns and drifting off, she was worn out emotionally and physically.

You spoke with her softly, reminding her everyone would still be here in the morning. Picking up Lula, her doll, and tucking it under her arm gave out the last yawn.

"Can I talk to Hunter?" She questioned with big eyes.

"Of course, baby. I'll be right back" You pet her hair back and left to go retrieve him.

You stopped when you saw him, Crosshair, and Wrecker whispering in the cock-pit.

"Ahaha! Be a man, just ask!" Wrecker said as he patted Hunters back harshly. Ask who? What would he have to 'be a man' about?

"If you say it any louder he won't have to..." Crosshair remarked.

"Oh! Sooorry." Wrecker dragged out.

"Both of you hush, I'll do it when I feel the time is right." Hunter spoke, his husky voice immediately filling you with warmth.

"You got this!" Wrecker exclaimed again, this time he earned a "Shhh!" from both Hunter and Crosshair.

You slowly entered the cock-pit, this time making your appearance known.

"Oh! Hello!" Wrecker greeted loudly, signalling to Hunter you were in the room. Hunter just sighed and shook his head.

You were curious about the conversation, but thought it might not be any of your business.

Smiling, you started, "Omega wants you to finish putting her to bed, Hunter." The way his face lit up had you star-struck. Almost like he couldn't believe she wanted him. "Thank you."

He nodded and headed her way, a hand cupping and maneuvering around your waist as he passed you. His subtle but frequent small touches warmed your heart.

You took a seat in the co-pilot chair, swiveling to look at Crosshair and Wrecker. Both looked down at you with crossed arms and smug looks.

"What?" You wondered if there was something on your face, or if you just took someones spot.

"Nooothing, we will be heading off to sleep now. RIGHT Crosshair?" Wrecker spoke in a suspicious voice, elbowing him in the side. Crosshiar grunted but agreed, leaving you alone.

Weird.

But then again, nothing was normal on this ship.

You took this time to lean back and take a few minutes of rest alone. It was nice being able to relax by yourself, knowing everyone was safe.

After a handful of minutes, Hunter made his way back from Omega. He took the seat next to yours, turning to face you.

"How are you doing?" You asked, sparking conversation.

"Fine, I'm just happy you guys are here... I keep thinking i'm going to blink and you'll both be gone..." His words shook at the end. You sat up, understanding the seriousness of the conversation.

"Hunter, Omega and I are alive and safe. We are here and we are not going anywhere." You rose and stood between his legs, hands cupping his face.

He looked up at you, tears filling his eyes slowly.

"What if I can't protect you two again?" He brought up a hand to rest at your hip, the other on his leg.

You rested your forehead against his, "That was a freak accident, baby. No one could have stopped that. Now we have Crosshair, Batcher, and we are ready for anything. We will keep Omega from the Empire. I promise."

He took a deep breath in, like he had just decided something.

He started by saying your name, "You always know just what to say. I wish I had that ability..." He closed his eyes and breathed you in for a moment, then he spoke again. "When... When we were apart I was so lost."

"I kno-"

"No, I don't think you understand. I couldn't think of anything but you and Omega. I was so broken without you." He repeated your name.

"I-I never want you to be away from me again." His voice got huskier as he spoke, and your legs felt like jello. You just looked at him deeply, nodding.

He started for a second time with a shaky breath, "No one can take you from me again. I will claw my way back to you every damn time." He nods his head up, brushing his nose to the side of your cheek with closed eyes.

You let him speak, even when your mind was flowing with your own comments, "It- The distance, made me realize. There is no one that can compare to you. No other woman I would ever want to be with."

Ah, so that is what they were talking about. You smiled big, awaiting the special phrase.

Tears filled your eyes with his words, he was speaking as raw as he was capable of.

"I can't promise you money or luxury, but I will spend every waking hour fighting to make you happy. Fighting to keep you safe." He pulls back, steadying you with both hands on your hips.

You take in a teary breath to speak, but he cuts you off. "Don't say anything yet, just- Wait here, just a second." He stands, reaching to Crosshair's old storage compartment.

He rushes back with a small box. You raise your hands to cup your own face, bright red. He lowered onto one knee, right in the middle of the cock-pit

"Please, for my own sanity and happiness, will you marry me?" He asks.

"Yes. Yes Hunter, there are no other words than yes." You fall down onto him, arms grasping around his neck.

He lets out a sigh of relief like you'd ever say 'no.'

"Thank you, oh thank you." He whispers into your neck, holding you tight. He only pulls back slightly to kiss you. A kiss so deep and full of emotions your head spun. You just held him, never wanting to let go.

It felt like time stopped, just for you two. Just for a clone trooper and a small girl...

"I never planned on you..." He broke the silence, head placed on top of yours. "But I- you were so damn perfect. Too perfect." You gave a small laugh, looking up to see his handsome face.

You rested a hand on his tattoo, thumbing it. "Hunter, if anyone is perfect it's you. You have so much love for me and Omega... How do you do it?"

"I manage." He smirked, leaning down to smell your hair. Something he used to do frequently when you snuggled in the past.

"Am I now Mrs. Hunter? Or is it Mrs. Trooper?" You joked, pulling back to sit fully on the ship floor. Your hands still filled with his much larger ones.

He smiled at you, another reminder on why he loved you so much. "We can figure out all the fine details later... Just let me kiss you again..."

So, you did.

A/N- Thank you so much for reading! I loved writing this one, I hope it turned out as good as I thought! Sorry It took me longer to post than usual, I was pretty busy this past week. As always, i'm open to constructive criticism!

Tags- (lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss

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cc--2224 · 5 months

Text

I Told You So

Pairing: Tech x F!Reader

Summary: After a mission goes wrong, Tech realizes that you are more precious to him than he originally thought, and though he is upset that you didn’t listen to him, he is more upset that he nearly lost you. And he intends to finally do something about it.

Warnings: This is very much 18+ Minors do not interact! Slight canon typical violence and mentions of injuries in whatever plot this has, smut; oral - f receiving, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it!!), porn with feelings, possessive Tech, slight praise kink? language

Notes: I don’t know where this came from, it has been a minute since I’ve written anything remotely spicy let alone an actual smut fic. But please let me know what you think!

Word Count: 5.5k

Taglist: None, let me know if you'd like to be added!

Masterlist

Edit: Thank you all for the likes and reblogs!! I hope you enjoyed it 💚

"It is unwise for any of us to go out on our own, we should be working in teams of two." Tech pointed out as you were gearing up for your mission. You were to locate and rescue a Republic senator who had been imprisoned by the Separatists and bring them back to Coruscant.

"There's an odd number, we can't go in teams of two." You pointed out. "I can handle myself, I don't want to divide your squad."

Ever since you had teamed up with Clone Force 99, you had gotten to know them well, but you still felt like an outsider. In some ways, you were, but you never really felt like one of the team. It wasn't uncommon for you to be the odd one out for teamwork, and to you, this was no different.

In truth, you had always hoped to be partnered with Tech when you were given the briefing, but his talents were more complementary with one of his brothers. Ever since you met him, you were drawn to him, his brains, his demeanor, the way he lit up when speaking about something that interested him which ended up being nearly everything. He was handsome and skilled, and he welcomed you into the squad immediately, over the following months, you began developing feelings for him.

It never hindered your performance on missions, not only because you were never paired up with him, but you were good at compartmentalizing your feelings from your work. You wanted to get closer to him, but there never seemed to be a good time, and even if there was, you just didn't know how to bridge the gap.

"You can join Crosshair and myself, it will be safe for you." He suggested.

"We'll cover more ground in three groups. I'll be fine, I doubt there are even going to be any platoons that far out."

Tech shrugged, "Suit yourself. I will send you the coordinates for our rendezvous point. Keep your comm on."

You nodded and left the Marauder with your equipment.

You had no idea that this mission would be more dangerous than many you had encountered, but Tech knew, he always did.

As you approached the outskirts of the village, you saw a clear path straight through to the compound where you suspected the senator was held. It seemed a little too good to be true, there should have been droids out here, not full platoons, but someone keeping watch.

You drew your blaster to be safe, and crept onward, keeping an eye out for anything out of place. You could hear chatter over the comms of the others checking in with each other, and then you heard Tech say your name.

“All clear. As I said.”

Tech didn’t reply and you lowered the volume on your comm, still keeping it on, but not wanting to draw attention to yourself.

You had made it about halfway through the clearing when you saw blaster fire strike about ten paces to your left. You looked up, trying to see where it came from when you saw a platoon of B1s headed your way.

“Easy work.” You mumbled to yourself, aiming your blaster forward, shooting them as they neared you.

It was easy work at first, but there didn’t seem to be an end to them. When you’d shoot one, two more would appear, and before you could even disable a squadron of them, a tank appeared over the horizon.

“Kriff.” You said.

You considered calling for backup, but your pride couldn’t handle Tech telling you that he told you so, so instead you took a grenade out of your pack and threw it toward the platoon. It didn’t seem to damage the tank, but it at least got rid of the marching battle droids.

If you had raised your comm to ask for help, you would have heard Hunter say that the target was secure, and call for everyone to return to the ship, but you were the only one who didn’t check in.

“Tech, Crosshair, you two go find her. Wrecker and I will bring the senator back to the ship.” Hunter told them.

They left their post and headed to your last known location.

“Why didn’t she just join our team?” Crosshair finally asked.

“I did suggest it, but due to her stubborn nature, she was certain she would be fine on her own.” Tech’s tone indicated his annoyance. He wanted to be as annoyed as he sounded, but more than anything he was worried.

He liked having you around, you were always willing to listen to him prattle on about whatever topic was on his mind. You were kind, you treated him and his brothers well. The idea that you could be taken from them had never crossed his mind until now. Unlike you, he had no idea of the way he felt about you. He had rarely had feelings for anyone before, he didn’t know how it was supposed to feel. All he knew was that he didn’t want to sit through a briefing without you, or ramble on about some useless topic without you intently listening, and he didn’t want your last conversation to be the last conversation. He didn’t want to be right about this one thing.

When they saw the explosion in the distance, he began to fear he was right.

The tank fired toward you, it missed its mark and you were able to avoid a direct hit, but the explosion was just a little too close. You were sent flying back from the shock wave, and you could hear buzzing in your ear before everything went black.

If you hadn't gone out on your own, someone could have been looking out for you. Tech could have been looking out for you, just as he insisted upon.

But instead, you were so certain you could handle yourself that you had gotten yourself in trouble.

You woke up in your bunk, bandaged and sore, but still alive. You didn’t know what happened, and you weren’t exactly eager to find out, but you knew you had to face everyone eventually.

Wrecker smiled at you when you walked into the cockpit, “Well look who’s finally awake!”

Crosshair didn’t say anything, instead looking at the back of Tech’s chair.

You heard a sigh, and then Tech turned his chair around, eyeing you up and down.

“Something you need to say?” He finally asked.

“What happened with the mission?”

Hunter spoke, “Got the senator. We’ll be arriving on Coruscant shortly.”

Had you really been asleep that long?

"I told you you should not have gone on your own." It seemed Tech was tired of the small talk.

You looked at him, unsure of what he wanted you to say. “I was just doing my part of the mission, nothing I did was out of line. I didn't know there would be that many droids on the outskirts." It was a losing argument, and one you'd rather not have in the cockpit of the Marauder in front of everyone, but Tech didn't seem interested in anything but the argument.

"Precisely. If you had gone with Crosshair and I, you would not have encountered those droids. And now you are injured because of your own mistake." He had raised his voice, something you’d never heard him do.

You flinched slightly at his words but he continued, “What happened to keeping your comm on? We were trying to reach you.”

“My comm was on!” You retorted, “Just turned it down so I wouldn’t be spotted.”

“Yes well, a lot of good that did you.” He responded sarcastically. “We might not be there to save you next time. Keep that in mind before you choose to do something so reckless.” He turned away from you, facing the front again.

Your eyebrows furrowed at the back of the chair, "I didn’t ask to be saved, in fact I’d rather be back there with the droids. Maybe then-"

Hunter cut into your argument. "That is enough, both of you."

He looked at you with his eyebrows knit together, "Go lay down, rest is going to help your injuries, arguing is not."

You opened your mouth to protest, but before you could say anything, you turned and went to your bunk.

After you were out of earshot, Hunter spoke to Tech.

"What was that about? You can't just yell at her, she got hurt, she learned her lesson already."

"As I have mentioned, she would not have-"

"Stow it. We all know what's going on between you, even if you don't. You need to figure it out before your next outburst." Hunter turned in his chair to face the front of the ship again. Tech looked on at the dancing lights of hyperspace.

Tech didn’t speak to you for the next week. The five of you were granted time off after saving the senator and you had all decided to spend it on Coruscant, but with the tension in the ship, it didn’t seem like much of a vacation.

You knew that all you had to do was apologize, but you didn’t feel like you did anything wrong.

You knew the others were getting tired of yours and Tech’s attitudes; they all knew that it was more than just the mission. They knew about your feelings for each other, and they knew how worried Tech had been as he treated your wounds and bandaged you up.

The only thing they could do was to force a resolution.

“Okay, we’ve had enough.” Hunter said loud enough for both you and Tech to hear at opposite ends of the ship. “We’re all going out. And that includes the two of you.”

He slammed down a flyer he had found for a gondola ride through the upper levels, complete with all the sights Coruscant had to offer.

“Is that really necessary?” You asked, glancing at Tech from the corner of your eye. You couldn’t think of anything less beneficial than the five of you being cramped together in a confined space you couldn’t leave.

“It isn’t a request.” Hunter informed you.

You sighed and left the ship, followed by the others, and finally Tech, and you made your way to the park where the dock was located.

The five of you slowly arrived at the front of the queue, and when it was your turn, you were shoved into a gondola along with Tech. None of the other batchers joined you, but before you thought to exit, the vessel's door had closed and you were moving.

You sat down on the bench across from Tech, still avoiding eye contact by looking out the window, arms crossed.

Tech still kept his silence. Even a week later, he was still considering Hunter's words. Was there something between him and you? He knew he didn’t want to lose you, but that was completely normal, wasn't it? And even if it wasn’t normal, that doesn’t mean whatever he felt was reciprocated. But if you did return his feelings, he knew this might be one of the only chances he had to act on it, to tell you how he felt.

When the gondola had reached nearly the top of the track, the view overlooking the Jedi temple, he sighed and finally looked at you.

"You see, I... I felt responsible for your injuries."

"You felt responsible?" You repeated after a pause. "Wasn't it my fault that I got injured? For not following your oh-so-wise plan?"

You were acting petulant, but your emotions were still running high and the confined space didn't help.

"Well yes, if you had done as I suggested, you would have been free from injury."

"Right, because you know everything."

"Crosshair and I left with zero injuries. So yes, this I know to be fact."

"Do you really have to say 'I told you so'? I'm sorry, is that what you want to hear? I'm sorry that I got hurt because I didn't l-"

You didn't have time to react before you felt Tech's lips upon yours. One hand was on the side of your face and the other was digging into your waist.

The vessel rocked slightly at his movement, causing you to grip onto the bench. Your eyes were still wide at the sudden contact, but when he didn't back away, you closed your eyes and deepened the kiss, moving your hands to place them on his chest.

He stopped to take a breath, his lips still hovering tantalizingly close over yours, breathing you in, committing your perfumed smell to memory.

You closed the gap this time when you decided he had enough time to catch his breath.

His tongue darted out and swiped across your lip, asking for access to explore. You allowed it, moaning into his mouth when you felt his tongue against yours.

In one swift movement, he sat on the bench and pulled you into his lap, resuming the kiss once you had situated yourself.

Your hands moved up, resting on his shoulders briefly before snaking your arms around the back of his neck, holding him close. You could feel his strong hands massaging your thighs before resting on your ass, testing the waters by giving it a squeeze, you bucked your hips slightly in response.

You could feel a coiling sensation in your stomach, a heat pulsing through you, and pooling out onto your panties. You wanted him, and you could feel based on his actions and the stiff bulge in his pants that he wanted you just as badly.

He broke the kiss, and moved his head back, causing you to chase after his kiss. He put a finger to your lips and smirked.

"You must be patient, the gondola ride is near the end of its course, and I still have more to say about the mission."

You frowned in protest, feeling all that heat suddenly dissipate as he gently pushed you off of him.

"Not to worry, the Marauder is nearby, no one else will be there and we can continue our conversation there, if that is what you want."

You nodded in agreement.

"I apologize, but I will need to hear an answer before I can comply."

"Yes, I want that." You said too quickly, trying and failing to not sound too desperate.

He smirked again. "Good girl. You and I still have much to discuss."

You whined slightly at his praise, then waited for the door to open as you neared the dock.

After disembarking, Tech grabbed your hand, pushing past the people exiting their respective vessels. Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair were nearby, but you didn't see them as Tech ushered you back toward the landing port.

"I guess they finally talked about it." Wrecker had said, staring wide-eyed after you two.

"We should probably give them some privacy so they can talk more." Hunter shook his head, smirking toward the ground.

"Just as long as they don't talk in my bunk." Crosshair said as he crossed his arms.

The door to the Marauder wooshed open, and the two of you hurried on board. Tech was back on you before it could close again.

He pushed you back into the wall, pinning you there as he kissed you. Placing hot kisses on your lips, your cheek, your jaw, your neck, anywhere he could.

"Do you realize how worried I was when I saw you?" He asked between kisses. "When I heard the explosion, when I rushed over only to find your body on the ground?"

He stopped kissing you and looked into your eyes, "I thought I lost you before you were even mine to lose."

"Tech.." You tried to move a hand from his grip to place it on his face, but he tightened his hold on it. “I’m sorry.”

“I do not want your apologies.” He told you, “I want you by my side, I want you to be safe. I…” He kissed you again, this time more roughly, eliciting a moan from you again. “I want you to be mine.”

Behind his goggles, his pupils were dilated, his eyes half-lidded.

The coiling feeling returned. Your stomach was in knots. You had never seen Tech like this before, you hadn’t seen him behave so possessively, and you wanted to see more of it.

"Then make me yours." You said, only a whisper. “I want to be yours.”

His mouth found yours again, not bothering to ask you to give his tongue space to enter but instead forcing it past your lips. His knee slotted itself between your legs, close enough to tease you, but not close enough to give you friction where you desired it most. You bucked your hips trying to find it on your own, and he smiled into the kiss.

"What do you want, mesh’la?" He asked you.

You bucked again in response. He removed one hand from yours and brought it down, pushing your hips back against the wall so you couldn't move them again.

"I told you, I need to hear your words. Tell me what you want."

"I want you. I-I need you."

"Then I should not keep you waiting."

He let go of your hip, and with the hand that was still holding yours above you, he guided you over toward the console.

"Here?" You asked.

"Well, of course." He guided your hips downward so that you were seated. "I cannot help but think about how pretty you would look while I fucked you right on the console of my ship."

You let out an involuntary moan at just his words alone.

He caressed the side of your face, and with a feather-light stroke across your jaw, he tilted your chin up to meet your gaze. Despite his words just a moment ago, he placed a gentle kiss on your lips once more, and his hand slowly traveled down your neck, over your breast, down your stomach, and rested at the hem of your shirt.

He looked into your eyes, silently asking for permission. You nodded eagerly and he pulled your shirt up over your head. He tossed it onto the seat behind him and then looked at you, admiring the newly uncovered parts of you.

"Beautiful." He whispered. Out of everything done so far, this one word was enough to make you blush, you tried to turn your head away but he stopped you.

Leaning down over you, he placed a kiss on your shoulder, then your collarbone, trailing down to your breasts, still obstructed by your bra. His lips kissed the top of one, while his hand held the other over the fabric. You reached behind your back and unclasped it, giving him access to another part of you where you wanted to feel his touch.

He tutted quietly. "I could have done that myself."

You rolled your eyes jokingly and he resumed allowing his lips to explore your skin, now alternating between kissing and sucking. And where his lips weren't, his hands were. Squeezing the flesh, thumbing over your nipple while his mouth worked on the other.

Soon, he continued his exploration, and as he neared your stomach, he lowered himself down until he was kneeling between your thighs.

His gaze was hungry as it focused on your center, his lips formed a tight line, holding his mouth closed to prevent his tongue from hanging out.

His hands were on your knees, he trailed them up your thighs, stopping at the waistband of your pants, once again looking up at you to ask your permission. You situated yourself to make it easier for him to remove them, and soon they too were discarded, thrown back toward the pilot chair. His hands were back on your thighs, prodding the soft skin, placing hot, open-mouthed kisses on each of them, sucking them enough to leave marks.

You whined, both at the sensation of him marking your legs, but also at the lack of sensation where you really wanted him to be.

He smirked up at you, and then spread your legs further apart, slowly moving his face toward your aching cunt. He could see how turned on you were, and he licked his lips before speaking.

"Stars, you appear to be soaked."

"Mmhm." Was all you could manage, all your attention was on the fact that he was inches away from giving you the friction you needed.

"Cyar'ika.." He scolded. "Words. You need something of me, what is it?"

"I... I just need you, I need your mouth, your fingers, your cock, I-I need to feel you." Your desperate words turned his gaze dark.

"Good girl, telling me everything you want," his praise caused you to squirm, trying to close your thighs just to feel friction, but he held them open.

"You enjoy it when I call you that?"

"Gods, yes." You moaned.

He hummed in response, keeping that knowledge filed away.

He finally pressed his face forward, nose rubbing against your clothed pussy. You whined in response. He dragged the tip of his nose upward, knowing exactly where you wanted to be touched, and he hooked his fingers around the waistband of your panties, relishing in your whines and pleas for him to finally take them off of you, and soon he relented, letting them join the rest of your clothes before he dove in.

He ate you like a man starved, licking you through your folds, tasting as much of you as he could.

"G-ah, fuck, Tech," you cried out, your hands reaching for his hair. The feeling of your hands gripping his hair causing him to groan.

His lips wrapped around your clit, alternating between sucking it and circling his tongue around it. He could feel you squirming at his touch and he reached one hand up, resting it on your hips, hoping to help anchor your.

With his other hand, he circled your entrance, teasing you, making you beg him to touch you before he obliged.

He slid one long finger into you as far as he could, pressing against the spongy walls, exactly where you needed to feel him.

He let go of your clit and let his tongue run up and down your folds, getting another taste of your juices.

"M-mmo-" You began to say, being cut off by the feeling of his tongue making another swipe up.

"My apologies, you will have to repeat yourself." He looked up at you, his face slick with your arousal.

"More, I need more."

He raised an eyebrow and plunged another finger into you. Your head rolled back and you cried out.

"Is that what you wanted?"

"Yes!"

Your grip tightened on his hair, pulling his face back into you. His hot breath fanned against your cunt and you sighed in contentment.

"Gods, you are a needy thing." His purred, his voice vibrated against you as he attached himself to your clit again.

He sucked on you while his fingers made scissor patterns inside you, all the while you could feel the coil start to tighten.

"I'm close-" You cried out. He didn't change anything about his rhythm. He strived to get you there, he was eager to please you after he had been so harsh toward you earlier. His tongue circled your clit and he could feel you pulsing around his fingers.

You could feel the heat growing in your stomach, your moans got louder as you got closer. He slid his fingers out, and before you could complain about the loss, you felt his tongue swiping up and down before dipping inside you. His fingers resumed drawing circles on your clit as he drank from you.

Your thighs clenched together, forcing him to stay exactly where he was, you muttered out a string of curses as the coil finally snapped and you cried his name as you came undone. He kept lapping at you until you were through.

You released your hold on his hair and he stood back up.

"You taste magnificent," He smirked, licking your arousal off his fingers before his mouth found yours again. You could taste yourself on his tongue as he leaned you back onto the console. You shuddered when you felt his stiffened cock press against you. His hands began grabbing at your breasts and your arms wrapped around his neck pulling him in.

"You are perfect." He said as he began kissing every piece of you he could. He locked onto your neck, he kissed you fervently, then gently bit down, giving you a mark that would be difficult to hide from the others, not that they didn’t already have an idea of what was going on here. But that’s what Tech wanted, he wanted to show everyone that you were his.

"Tech.." You said quietly,

"Mm?"

"I want to see you." You pushed yourself back up onto your elbows and looked into his eyes.

For a moment, just for a moment, he froze, but soon enough, his hands moved to the fastener on his pants.

"Let me do that."

He smirked and helped you off the console gently.

You worked on the buttons on his shirt first, unbuttoning them slowly, placing gentle kisses on his chest as each loose button reveals it to you.

He tilted your chin up and leaned in for a kiss, pressing against you. You could feel his stiff bulge press into you again and your hands moved faster to unbutton his shirt.

You pushed it off his shoulders when it's finally unbuttoned, and you looked at his toned chest. You knew he'd be strong but it was still a surprise to you. Your fingers danced across his torso, feeling the muscles under his smooth skin, before finally landing on the fastener of his pants.

You look up at him, just as he did for you, asking for his permission. He pressed his forehead against yours in response, you smiled and kissed his lips, then moved to undo the fastening. He helped you to slide his pants off, and he stepped out of them, kicking them off to the side.

You could see the outline of his cock much clearer against his briefs and you could feel your mouth water, you clenched your thighs together, not wanting to wait to feel it inside of you. He raised an eyebrow at you.

"You desire it so badly?" He asked you, forcing your gaze away from it and back up to him.

You nod quickly, "Yes."

He smiled then rutted his hips against you, "Then please, continue."

Your hands moved to the waistband of his briefs, he moved his lips to yours again and you returned the kiss before kissing along his jaw, then his neck. You peeled the waistband down and he hissed as his briefs grazed across his cock. They had soon joined the rest of the clothes and you looked down.

You bit your bottom lip and you started to lower yourself down but he stopped you. You gave him a confused look, and he smirked.

"There will be plenty of time for that at a later time. But for now,"

He continued by guiding you back onto the console, laying your back down and he stood between your legs with his hands on your thighs.

"Are you comfortable?" He asked.

"Yes," you assured him.

You felt his cock rub against your folds, before he positioned himself at your entrance.

"Ready?" He asked.

You bucked your hips in response and he pushed himself in without another word.

You arched your back as you felt him stretch you open, if there was any pain, it quickly turned into pleasure as he buried himself in you inch by inch.

When he was fully sheathed, he gave you a moment to adjust before he started to move. He started out slow, he made sure that you were used to the feeling of his thrusts before he picked up the pace.

"Gods, you are taking me so well, cyar'ika."

You replied with a moan. You bucked your hips to meet his pace and he smirked.

"Is there something you want?"

"Mmm p-please, go fas-faster" you answered between thrusts.

"Very well," He obliged, his hands gripped onto your thighs and he buried himself again, quickening his pace at your request. He looked at you as you took his cock, the way your back arched, how your tits bounced with each thrust, the way your face contorted in pleasure.

He tightened his grip on your thighs, you took that as a hint to wrap your legs around his waist and he moaned in response, feeling himself go even deeper inside you.

"You are so perfect, such a good girl for me." Your walls clenched around his cock at his praise.

He thrusted into you harder wanting to explore the new angle he was permitted.

“Fu-uck,” you whined.

"Is this okay?" He asked, unsure of if he was hurting you.

"Gods, yes!"

He set a brutal pace, but you bucked your hips, meeting his thrusts each time.

Tech could feel himself nearing his climax, his pace started to become slightly more erratic. He slid one hand down your thigh toward your center. He circled your clit with his thumb, intending on sending you over the edge with him.

Your walls clenched around him again at the contact. You were getting close again. Your moans grew louder as you neared the edge.

"That's it," He said, he wanted to feel you come undone again. He continued circling your clit as he thrusted into you. "Be a good girl and come for me once more, come on my cock."

Your second orgasm crashed over you without as much of a warning as the first, your legs tightened around him, he slowed his thrusts down, helping you through it, and he moaned at how your walls constricted him. He knew he wasn't going to last much longer.

"Wh.. Where do you want me?" He asked.

"In-inside," you said, still overcoming the last of the waves of pleasure.

He didn't ask any further questions, he buried himself as far as he could before he stilled, his cock twitching inside you as he painted your walls with hot ropes of his seed.

He moaned out your name as he finished, feeling himself soften inside of you, he pulled himself out of you and you pushed yourself up, wrapping your arms around his neck, kissing his lips, your tongue darting into his mouth.

He returned the kiss, holding you close to him, and his hands traveled across your thighs, before lifting you up from the console.

“I love you.” You told him, resting your head on his shoulder as he held you. “I think I always have, but… In case it still wasn’t obvious.”

He smiled and carried you toward the refresher, sitting you down on the counter when you arrived, giving you a chaste kiss on the lips. “Perhaps it was not obvious over the last week, but now, I would have more questions if you did not.” He smiled at you, “I love you too. But next time, if I ask you to join me on a mission instead of going off on your own, please listen to me.”

“But look where it brought us.” You replied with a smirk.

“Perhaps that is true, but for your own information, you do not need to nearly get yourself killed in order for me to fuck you. You could have just asked.”

He grabbed a towel before he quickly left to retrieve your clothes and clean off the console. Tech soon returned to you and turned the water on, helping you off the counter and guiding you to the shower where he joined you. It didn’t take long for his lips to be on you once again.

While it was your stubbornness that led you to this point in the first place, you were suddenly very eager to see what would happen on the next mission, should you and Tech finally be paired together.

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