#tbbpromptevent

Months later, as things spiraled from bad to worse, you found yourselves reunited. In that moment, your mind was a blank slate. You didn't know how to react or what to feel. Your emotions oscillated between love and hatred, a cycle that seemed endless. But there was a bitterness in you.

Each day brought another round of tiptoeing around Crosshair. While the others seemed to have moved past his past transgressions, eager to bury the hatchet, for you, it felt like starting over from square one.

He exuded the same coldness and distance that characterized your initial encounters, his silence speaking volumes. That is until Howzer spoke to you.

As you engaged in small talk with Howzer, Crosshair couldn't resist interjecting with his unwelcome remarks. You understood Howzer's animosity towards Crosshair, but what puzzled you was Crosshair's hostility towards him. You shot him bitter glares whenever he spoke out of turn, only for him to leave before any response could be made.

What was his problem?

This scenario repeated itself several times. From the corner of the room, you could feel the weight of that familiar glare from times past, and as your eyes met, Crosshair's stare remained unyielding.

One evening, yourself and Crosshair found yourselves aboard the Remora with Echo. "You and Howzer seem... close," his drawling voice came from behind you, causing you to momentarily freeze, shooting Echo an annoyed glance as he awaited your response.

"I speak to him the same amount as I speak to everyone else," you retorted, rolling your eyes after mustering your voice, refusing to turn around to face Crosshair.

"Funny," he began, "I don't recall you speaking to me that much."

Gazing out of the window, a slow realisation dawned upon you. He was jealous. The absurdity of it all almost made you smirk. Despite the flutter in your stomach wondering why he could be jealous, you relished in the opportunity to make him squirm first. "Perhaps he has more riveting conversational qualities."

Echo audibly inhaled a deep breath, seemingly perpetually caught in the crossfire of arguments involving Crosshair and someone else. Meeting Crosshair's gaze this time, a small scowl etched onto his face, you continued, "I have my doubts."

"No need to," you added, meeting his gaze squarely. "I don't see him wanting to talk to you anyway. And the same goes for me."

"Thought you grew up from being a brat?" His words ignited a fiery rage within you, prompting you to rise to your feet. "And I thought you had some more respect for yourself. But you're just a jealous little man," you shot back, your words laced with venom.

Echo swiftly intervened, positioning himself between the two of you. "Can you guys do this elsewhere? All this bickering is giving me a headache."

Crosshair's gaze shifted away from yours, his demeanor faltering. "Gladly," he muttered before stalking off, leaving you to follow in his wake.

Once out of earshot, you wasted no time in confronting him. "Got nothing else to say, huh?" you challenged. "Are you going to try and deny that you're jealous?"

"I have nothing to be jealous about," he snarled, plucking the toothpick from his lips and slamming it to the ground. "You're not mine."

You couldn't help but laugh, a bitter edge to your tone. "You're right about that. You had your chance, and you blew it."

For a moment, you watched as he froze, his expression betraying a hint of confusion. "What do you mean I 'blew it'?" he demanded, his voice tinged with incredulity.

Suddenly, the weight of your words hit you, and you found yourself looking down, shaking your head. "Nothing. I didn't mean to say that," you murmured, hoping to retract your statement.

"I don't believe you," he countered, stepping closer, his presence enveloping you entirely. "You never liked me."

A sudden pang of realisation struck your heart. With your stomach tied in knots, you met his intense gaze. "Is that what you always thought?"

He continued to stare you down, searching for any hint of deception, but to his surprise, he found none. Yet, his stubbornness refused to accept it. "You're lying," he insisted, his voice firm.

"No," you muttered, your voice trembling with emotion, "but I wish I was."

He scoffed dismissively, turning his back on you with a bitter twist to his expression. "I don't get you. If you had these feelings, why did you never tell me?" His voice cracked with frustration, his shoulders tense with unresolved tension.

"I could say the same," you shot back, your bravery tinged with desperation, clinging to the hope that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way you did. But as his gaze met yours, a storm of conflicting emotions raged within you.

His frustrated glare softened briefly, revealing a glimpse of vulnerability before he turned away again, his back a wall of defense.

Memories flooded your mind—quiet moments shared between you, moments where unspoken words hung heavy in the air, suffocating in their silence. You remembered the times when he seemed on the verge of opening up, only to retreat into himself.

In that moment, a surge of resentment bubbled within him, fueled by months of unanswered questions and unspoken truths. "Go fuck yourself," he spat, his words dripping with anger and self-loathing. Yet beneath the anger and hurt, there lingered a flicker of longing, a desperate yearning for connection buried deep within both of you, waiting to be acknowledged.

“Go fuck me yourself, you coward.” The words tumbled from your lips before you could even process them, but in that heated moment, consequences be damned.

He whirled around, his gaze piercing into yours as he strode towards you with purpose, until you were backed up against the wall, his breath hot against your face. "Say. That. Again," he demanded, his voice laced with urgency, his eyes searching yours for any sign of sincerity.

It wasn't a threat; it was a plea, a desperate plea for honesty amidst the chaos of emotions swirling between the both of you. Did you mean it? Of course. Of course you fucking did.

Your breath hitched in your throat as tears threatened to spill from your eyes, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Crosshair, I..." you began, your voice faltering as you struggled to find the right words to express the tumult of feelings coursing through you.

"I know," he murmured softly, his gaze softening as he understood, as if everything that needed to be said had already been said.

Leaning down, he pressed his lips against yours in a swift yet tender kiss, his hands cradling your face gently, overwhelming you with a rush of warmth and longing that eclipsed both of your poisonous thoughts.

“Come with me,” he rasps against your lips, a gentle tug on your hand that had you willingly coming with him and far, far away from Echo’s ears.

He guides you through the ship until you both come to the refresher, both of you tumbling inside as your kisses become fervent, desperate and needy.

He pulls back for a moment, gazing down at you as if to see you were real and not a figment of his imagination before his lips latch onto your neck, sucking and bruising your skin. You whine in pleasure, keeling into his body as your hands move down to his crotch.

Softly, you palm against his erection, gasping as you feel the outline of his hardening cock. “I want you Cross,” you gasp as his teeth graze along your flesh.

He growls low and guttural, but understands, “I know kitten,” his hands travel up the underside of your shirt, fingers stroking against your breasts as his hips involuntarily jerk into the touch of your hand, “as soon as we get back to Pabu… fuck, I can’t even begin to tell you what I’m going to do to you.”

You grin, a sultry laugh parting your lips. “Perhaps you should show me.”

“Refresher isn’t big enough.” He grunts, “but I could give you a taster?”

His tone is suggestive and your core pangs with arousal at the possibilities. “How so?”

He gazes down at you, one hand now cupping your jaw with his thumb dancing over your lower lip. There’s a longing, a love in his eyes but unmistakably there’s one of pure lust too. “Get on your knees and find out.”

More Crosshair Works

Masterlist

Hunter x F!Reader Word Count: 3k Content: groping, kissing, titty suckin, fingering, being politely bent over the knee, bangin in a few positions, and a few bad words.

READ PART ONE HERE

Months passed, and you couldn’t believe your luck, that the quick-witted, clever, insightful, and damn sexy Sergeant of Clone Force 99 seemed to feel the same way about you as you did about him. You’d exchanged information, messaging as much as possible when he wasn’t putting his life on the line in death-defying shenanigans, and you’d see each other whenever he was on world. You’d surreptitiously worked out your own work schedule to be able to split your time between Kamino and Coruscant, allowing you to see him more often, and you felt giddy as you thought of all the deep kisses and passionate groping that you’d enjoyed in a variety of closets, storage crates, empty barracks, and dark alleyways. 

Things had progressed deliciously, the two of you exploring one another’s bodies in an increasingly wide variety of ways. You’d always been self-conscious, but the way he could wrap himself around you and drown you in raw passion was unlike anything you’d ever experienced. It was intoxicating, the increasing vulnerability and authenticity in all areas, as you grew to know one another through and through. The trust, connection, and comfort was incredibly special to you, and you were excited to see where it would lead. It had been ages since he’d been to Coruscant, and far too long since you’d seen each other, so when you received his message to let you know he had an entire night to spend however he liked, you were beyond excited. 

You cleaned your apartment like mad, working yourself nearly into exhaustion, then took the most thorough shower of your life. Shaving, exfoliating, and scrubbing was followed by moisturizing and fretting over what to wear. The tone of your messages of late had been decidedly hungrier, and unless you were wildly off base, you had a feeling there would be a new level of desire this evening. He’d given little hints of “the things he wanted to do to you”, and just the thought of all that might await made you ache between the legs. You dried your hair, brushing it until it was soft as silk as you sipped a glass of sparkling wine, then stood in front of your closet, trying to gauge what the perfect vibe would be. 

Pleasantly buzzed from the wine and absolutely drunk with excitement, you dug out a wrinkled paper bag from the back of a shelf, dumping its contents on the bed. A messy pile of lingerie sat before you – stuff you’d bought in your younger days when you were more ambitious and less realistic – and you picked up thing after thing, squinting in estimation of how it might look. Finally, you saw the perfect set and pulled it on, examining yourself in the mirror with a giddy, carefree attitude. You pulled a long, satin robe over the whole thing, then wondered if that was too presumptuous… which made you laugh out loud. He was coming in late, past dinnertime for you at least, but you had a little something ready just in case, and you busied yourself with final touches to your face, hair, and apartment as you waited. 

Ding dong.

Your heart leapt in your chest as you flung the door open, so happy to see him after so long. You had to do a double-take, jaw dropping a bit as you took in the whole sight of him. He had ditched the armor, the only thing you’d ever seen him in, and instead was sporting civilian clothing that was positively drool-worthy: perfectly-fitted jeans and a dark green henley sat beneath a rugged jacket that hung from his broad shoulders. 

“Holy kriff,” you gawked, backing up to invite him in but unable to take your eyes off of him. “What’s all this?”

“A snaaaaack,” he said in a voice that made you both burst into laughter.

“Okay, never say that again,” you declared once you’d regained your breath. “I have so many questions.”

“I lost a bet to Echo, so I had to say that,” Hunter explained, grinning as he drew close to you again. “As for the outfit, Tech offered it as ‘a calculated presentation not dissimilar to the breeding displays of animals’, so I couldn’t pass up on that.”

“Oh my gosh.” You were speechless, momentarily forgetting all that you were wearing and had been dreaming of for this evening. But Hunter hadn’t forgotten. He stepped closer, toying with your waist as he gazed at you fondly. 

“So… you like… breeding displays… I can’t do this, I’m sorry,” he laughed, shaking his head and returning to his usual stoicism a bit. “I’m just happy to see you.”

“You too,” you said, more softly now, as your mind wandered back to everything before you. You ran your hands up his arms and across his chest, reveling in the little tease of the unbuttoned neckline of his henley shirt, and pulled his jacket from his shoulders to toss onto the table nearby. He pulled you in, cupping your face and brushing a thumb along your cheek, and you relaxed into his embrace, falling silent for a while and just basking in the happiness of his presence. You closed your eyes, tilting your head into his hand, and let out a little sigh.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispered huskily, and you opened your eyes with a giggle.

“How many times do I have to tell you that you don’t have to ask anymore?”

“Oh, right. Must have forgotten.”

Then his mouth was on yours, tender and sweet at first, lips sliding along your own with delicate precision. They were so soft, pressing and pulling, again and again as the intensity grew and his head tilted to kiss you more deeply. His hand remained on your jaw, fingers splayed along your neck, and the other flattened across the small of your back, pulling you flush against him. You savored every part of him that you could feel, from his muscular thigh to his broad chest, and you gasped quietly when his lips blazed a train to your neck. He carefully slid the silky fabric of your robe off your shoulder, pressing a few lingering kisses along your collarbone before lifting his face to yours again. 

He studied you with a mix of affection and desire, gently running his fingers through your hair before gripping a fistful and kissing you again, harder this time. You lost yourself in it, dizzy from the way his chest rose and fell against you, his hands heavier as they roamed your hips… Your own fingers explored his stomach and caressed his arms as you writhed against him, feeling your entire body coming alive more and more with all the pent-up yearning and hunger. 

“Bedroom?” you gasped, pulling back for a breath of air after a particularly intense bout of kisses. 

“Eventually,” he said, eyes dark with desire now as he toyed with the hem of your robe. A jolt of electricity ran through you, and you slid your hands beneath his shirt, pulling it up over his head before returning your palms to his front. He slipped his own fingers past your satin robe, which was starting to messily hang open now, and you arched your back with a sharp inhale as he traced his fingers along the curve of your side, up toward the cream-colored bra you’d chosen. It was nothing flashy, unlike the strappy, lacy numbers you’d considered, but was made of the most irresistibly soft silk you’d ever felt, and you smiled against his mouth as he stiffened the slightest bit when his hands reached it. You knew how to intoxicate his senses. 

His fingers grazed your breast, the thin fabric doing nothing to conceal the pebbling of your nipple in response. Kissing you again, he brought his other hand up, grasping both sides with a gentle firmness that got another breathy inhale out of you. He nestled his nose against the side of your face, staggering his legs between your own and whispering against your ear. 

“The things I want to do to you…” he purred, and you swallowed hard, tilting your face into his as his touch on your chest grew heavier, cupping and fondling, teasing and stroking. You were aching for him so badly, slick between your legs, and when he gently squeezed both nipples at once, you couldn’t hold back a quiet moan. There was a feral edge to his voice, a restraint to his touch, and you were wildly aroused at the thought of what his unrestrained passion would look like.

“Fuck me,” you whispered, placing a firm hand over the bulge in his pants and smiling faintly at his hiss in response. “I mean it,” you continued, and that alone seemed to send him over the edge. He turned you around in a flash, pulling you back against him as his hands roamed freely across your front, scooping up a breast as he raked his teeth along your neck. He kissed and suckled, rolling a nipple between his fingers as the other hand ventured down, across your stomach, and over your thinly-clothed mound. Stepping away for a split second, he tugged your robe off, tossing it aside and returning to his ravaging position, radiating heat against your back as he teased along your panty line. 

“I think I’ll make you wait, just a little…” he murmured against your shoulder, dipping his fingers beneath the silk underwear to tease along the edges of your folds. You stepped your legs a little further apart, his other arm bracing across the front of your shoulders as he kissed your neck again. 

“Let’s see how long you can,” you challenged, feeling him stiffen against you with his own yearning. You lifted an arm behind your head, burying your fingers in his hair and leaning your head to the side, tilting your hips toward his hand as it stroked feather-light against your clit. Biting back the curses, you shifted back a little, grinding against his hard length and reveling in his low groan in response. 

“Playing games, are we?” He pressed his fingers a little harder, teasing you with a few circles that sent tingles radiating throughout your entire body before pulling away and moving toward the couch, quickly shedding all remaining clothing as he went. You felt positively feral at the sight of him, messy and carnal, and dropped your robe as you followed. He sat down, spreading his legs, and you were ready to drop to your knees, but he reached for you gently, stopping you with your hips in front of his face, where he kissed and bit your side as he slowly slid your panties down your legs. You were a mess already, not wanting to wait another second to ride him into the sunset, but he had you absolutely enraptured, and the dominant energy radiating off of him was intoxicating. 

He kissed your stomach, gazing up at you with unbridled lust, and the sight alone nearly sent you into orbit. He was so incredibly hot, so free in his passion… When he carefully guided you to lay across his thighs, face down, you gasped as the cool air hit your pussy, slightly spread as your knees rested off to the sides. He caressed your face again, holding it up so it wasn’t dangling uncomfortably, then raked his fingernails up the inside of a thigh. You writhed beneath his touch, one hand wrapping around his ankle in an attempt to ground yourself from the heady pleasure washing over you from head to toe. He traced his fingers across your folds, up and down, then teased the inside of the other thigh. You whined. You couldn’t help it. You’d been waiting long enough. A smile touched his lips, and he moved his hand back up, stroking firm fingers across you again, from your clit to your opening, then back again. He slowly circled your clit again, then nudged his fingers against your opening, sinking in just a bit before returning to the up and down slide that was threatening to make you come from that alone. 

“Hunter,” you breathed against his thigh, holding onto him for dear life as your legs twitched behind you. He pressed in again, deeper this time, then stroked you again and again. The rhythm was euphoric, and his cock was hard against your side as he slid his fingers back and forth, dipping in and out. When he turned his hand slightly to reach that sensitive spot inside, you were seeing stars, panting against his hand as he pressed inside of you, one finger still dragging along your clit. “Please,” you begged, truly unable to take any more. He picked up on your tone and slowly released you, carefully helping you to your feet, where you immediately straddled him, sinking onto his lap. He pulled the silky bra off, inhaling sharply as your breasts spilled into his hands, and he brought his mouth to them immediately, swirling his tongue amid kisses and suckles. 

You arched into his ravaging, his hands roving up and down your back as you rocked against his cock, hard between the two of you. You wanted to take him right there, and buried your hands in his hair, angling yourself to guide him in. He paused for a moment as though thinking, and then his eyes clenched shut in absolute bliss as you sank down on him, slowly. He grunted an expletive, tipping his chin toward his chest and gripping your waist with desperate concentration. You began to move, savoring every second as he slid along your walls, teasing your entrance with his tip and then taking him back in. When he bottomed out, the friction was incredible, and you tilted your hips to enjoy it more. His hands grasped your ass, lifting you slightly to allow him to press into you, slowly at first, then a bit harder as you moaned your ecstasy against his hair.

“So perfect,” he gasped, the sound of his thighs slapping against you nearly drowning out his worshipful words. He thrust again and again, hitting that spot deep inside and grinding on your clit at the same time. You grabbed the back of the couch, breasts bouncing in his face, and he took one in his mouth again, toying with it with his tongue. The tension was building, and you were sure you were about to go over the edge, but he slowed, causing you to gasp in indignation.

“How dare–”

In one ridiculously smooth motion, because this is fantasy after all, he rose to his feet, scooping you in his arms on the way. Next thing you knew, you were laid flat on your bed, spread out before him on your back as he stood beside the edge, stroking himself as he looked at you with feral hunger. 

“I’ll make up for it,” he smirked, sliding his length along your slick folds, the bottom of his cock teasing your clit. He held your legs at his sides, slowly gliding back and forth against you as your pussy clenched around nothing, yearning for him to fill you up again. When he finally did, you reached your arms above your head, grasping the sheets in pure bliss as he sank in, bottoming out with an intoxicating press of the hips against you. It was the most mind-blowing angle, and he began to thrust again, releasing your legs to bend over you, pressing his hand into the bed beside your head. You turned into his wrist, burying your face in his forearm and panting against his skin as he lowered his head, heavy kisses peppered across your collarbone before he drew a flat tongue over a nipple again. 

He was the best you’d ever had. You were on another plane of existence, lost in his musky scent, the raw sounds coming from him, the careful strength and consuming passion… He looped an arm beneath your shoulders, cupping the back of your head as you curled your chin to your chest, picking your legs up higher to take him deeper. He groaned his restraint, holding your head close against his neck as he snapped his hips against you again and again. It was so intimate and feral all at once, his body sliding against yours as he fucked you senseless. You could tell he was getting close, and he released you to stand back upright, caressing a bouncing breast with one hand while the other moved between your legs. When he touched your clit, still thrusting the perfect rhythm at an angle that was sending deep waves of pleasure throughout your core, you felt your own climax building at breakneck speed. Your breaths grew faster, whimpers and moans louder, and he didn’t change a thing, circling your clit with the pads of his fingers as he drove his cock into you again and again. 

White-hot fireworks exploded across your consciousness, wracking your body with sparkling euphoria as your pussy clenched around him. You couldn’t hold back, mewling encouragement as he continued, chasing his own release as you rode the high. He came with a growl, panting words that you couldn’t make out through his heavy breaths, and his throbbing cock and hot release sent you right back up, drawing out your orgasm even longer as every nerve in your body fired with delight. As his pumping slowed, hot and messy, you remembered to breathe again, shuddering involuntarily as he eventually stilled, holding himself inside of you as he gently bent over you, brushing the hair back from your face and kissing you with unfathomable gentleness and reverence. You couldn’t move, instead remained lying there motionless, grinning like an idiot in the dim light. 

“Let’s do that again,” you murmured, ecstatic and the small snort from him as he nuzzled against your cheek. 

“I’m gonna need about twenty minutes.”

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“It’s almost exactly the same.”

“Different arm.”

“Oh my gosh.” Your almost-laugh was overshadowed by concern and frustration as you made quick work of the injury and carefully wrapped the gauze around his bicep, trying not to pay too close attention to the gentle curves of the muscles and tendons, the light dusting of hair, the scars and bruises… You cleared your throat, shaking your head minutely and looking back up to his face. That wasn’t any better. His sharp eyes gazed steadily at you, framed by his distinctive nose and the strands of hair that brushed the sides of his face.

“Well thanks as always,” he said quietly, the hint of a rare smile touching the corner of his lips, which were almost always curved in the ghost of a frown from the burdens he carried. You tried to ignore the flutter in your chest, instead nodding and picking up your datapad abruptly to see what else was on the agenda for the Kamino medical bay that day. You looked back to him, offering a small smile and an honest exhortation.

“Take care of yourself, Hunter.”

* * * 

You were surprised to see him only a week later, stepping into line behind you in the mess hall with the rest of his squad. They were normally a boisterous bunch, but there seemed to be a heaviness upon them as they moved rather listlessly. Perhaps a mission gone awry, perhaps the regular wear and tear of being mere property in a seemingly endless war. You caught Hunter’s eye as he moved to the front of his group, setting his tray on the shelf beside yours as you slid down the food line. 

“You alright?” you asked softly, startling yourself with the gentleness and vulnerability in your own voice and cringing at the fact that you didn’t even lead with a “hello”. 

“Yeah,” he said automatically, his flat affect provoking more anxiety than you’d like. You left it at that, unable to stifle the simultaneous warmth and concern emanating from you. You didn’t know what it was about his mere presence, but he exuded both competence and compassion, intelligence and wit, and you perceived the weight of responsibility that hung over his head, both a gift and a curse of his engineered fate. 

You’d come to enjoy his med bay visits more and more, although it was never the ideal circumstances to meet. The elaborate fantasies you concocted as you drifted off to sleep were far more appealing, consisting of stargazing cuddles, fancy galas, coffee shop chats, and many other situations you’d want to share with him. As corny as it seemed, more than all of it, you simply wanted to know him, to know the inner workings of his mind, his joys and worries, the things that made him laugh, the way he liked his caf… It wasn’t the first time in your life that you’d harbored a crush for someone who was as unattainable as they were oblivious of your affections, so you settled to daydream and enjoy the times you did get to share. 

It helped that your occupation allowed you some quiet moments and gentle touches here and there. Although, perhaps “helped” was the wrong word. 

* * * 

“We need you in room 6 immediately,” crackled the voice on your commlink, and you set aside the instruments you’d been cleaning and adjusting, heading that way with urgency. When the door slid open, you felt a jolt of electricity run through your body at the sight of a hulking clone on the exam table, covered in dried blood and haphazardly-wrapped bandages. You knew who it was without seeing his face, which was almost entirely obscured, and before your emotions could catch up, you snapped into work mode.

“What are we dealing with?” you asked the others, who were moving in smooth synchronization to free his head and scan him head to toe. 

“CT-9903. Explosion and shrapnel, blunt force trauma, multiple lacerations…” your assistant reported, eyes flitting across the scanner screen.

“That’s gonna leave a mark,” your other colleague said, stuffing the wads of bandages into the garbage and pulling on a fresh set of gloves. 

“Let’s get to work,” you muttered. 

A few hours later, he was cleaned up and sleeping comfortably, one eye closed serenely beneath a spiral of neatly-wrapped gauze that covered the rest of his head. You slipped into the room and tapped the screens, confirming the notes your assistant had entered, then rested a hand on his broad forearm, watching his chest rise and fall and sending out all the comforting and healing vibes you could muster. 

“He seems alright,” came a smooth, low voice from behind you, making you jump and emit the tiniest squawk. You whirled around to see Hunter in a chair in the corner, reclining with his legs crossed out in front of him. He’d phrased it as a statement but the inflection of his voice indicated a question, and you exhaled in an attempt to regain your composure.

“First of all, hi. Next time, can you greet me when I come into the room instead of scaring the crap out of me?” you said, accompanied with a little laugh that sounded forced. 

“We’ll see,” he returned evenly, keeping his face straight despite your smirk.

“That’s an order, Sergeant,” you attempted, delighting in the slight spark in his eyes as he raised his eyebrows.

“Oh really,” he said, lowering his chin just enough to bring some hair across his forehead as he regarded you with a stare that you could have sworn held a hint of smolder. But perhaps you were seeing what you wanted to see. Your fingers twitched at your sides, yearning to stroke the tufts back from his face… and other stuff…

“Yeah, anyway…” you said suddenly, clearing your throat and turning businesslike all of a sudden. “He should be fine. We’ll run some more tests when he wakes up to check on his hearing. The lacerations should heal easily, and he was lucky enough to avoid any serious contusions, somehow. I don’t know what you all were doing out there but this guy needs a thicker helmet.”

“I’ll make sure to request that from the armory.”

“I’m sure they’ll be wildly helpful and accommodating.”

“Always.”

A silence fell for a moment, then he rose to his feet, stretching to his full height and picking up his backpack.  He slung it across his shoulders, along with the concerns and duties that awaited him, and gave you a cordial nod. 

“Thanks for taking care of him,” he said with genuine sincerity, regarding you with fondness as he stepped closer. Your heart skipped a beat and you felt frozen to the spot, mind racing with a million scenarios you’d envisioned that started out just like this. 

“Just doing my job… sir,” you said feebly, swallowing hard as he moved the tiniest bit nearer. You gazed at his eyes, brown at first glance but peppered with pale green and gray upon closer inspection. You could swear you felt the sparks flying between the two of you… until he spoke, shifting slightly to your side. 

“Gotta… head out…” he muttered, and you suddenly realized he had actually been trying to get past you. Flushed with hot embarrassment, you moved aside in a flash, turning away to hide your reddening cheeks. 

“Sorry, I didn’t sleep too much last night,” you explained quickly, trying not to stutter. “The old brain isn’t working quite so well today.”

“I’m glad you performed cranial surgery on Wrecker, then,” Hunter observed, and you buried your face in a hand.

“I mean, it wasn’t really surgery, but good point,” you laughed, thoroughly mortified now.

You didn’t see the pursed lips hiding his smile as he turned and disappeared out the door. 

* * * 

You were deeply saddened at first when you were transferred from the Kamino medical bay to the general medical center on Coruscant. But, as your fellow clone-obsessed friend reminded you, you would be able to go with her to 79s on your nights off, where you could enjoy the company of the types of men you’d come to prefer. It had been a hellish week, with too many patients and too few staff members, and you had worked yourself to the bone. It was as good a time as any to blow off some steam, so it took only a little urging from your friend for you to change into some going out clothes, fix up your hair a bit, and hit the town with her. 

Typically one for softness and gentleness, you felt an edge to yourself that night. Perhaps it was the build up of all of the frustrating situations at work, but whatever the cause, you didn’t feel like putting up with any kind of BS. So when the first trooper you walked past tried to smack your butt, you turned on him with the raging fury of a thousand suns and gave him a piece of your mind. Your friend stared at you, dumbfounded, and you heard some chuckles and comments from the crowd. Turning away before you melted into an apology, you stalked off to the corner booth you had left your stuff in.

“That was brutal,” a smoky voice said, and you were floored at the sight of Hunter sliding into the booth next to you. Your friend winked at you from where she stood at the bar, still flirting with a couple of troopers. You stared at him, speechless, and he held his hands up in surrender. “I’ll clear out if you’re going to chew me out like that guy. Just wanted to say hi. Haven’t seen you in the med bay in a while.“

“No, stay!“ You said, more eagerness in your voice than you would like to admit. “They transferred me here…”

“And you just had to get your clone fix?”

You blushed, palming your face before taking a long swig of your drink. It was a stiff one, and a fitting way to end your week. 

“Just kidding,” he continued, “We both know you just miss yelling at people.” 

“Oh, I’m such a yeller,” you rolled your eyes. You had never been anything but gentle and kind with him and the other patients. And he knew it.

Before long, you both found yourselves lost in conversation, and it felt as though your dreams were coming true. Details of his life and thoughts were flowing freely, well, as freely as possible considering the covert nature of most of his experiences, and the two of you settled into a comfortable rhythm as you nursed your drinks and regarded one another. You shared about your training days, mishaps and mayhem, and your goals for the future. He was happy to listen, answering questions but also content to simply sit. You didn’t want to admit just how much you were thrilled by the entire situation. 

“Refills?” You asked, gesturing to the empty glasses on the table. He nodded, but then followed you out of the booth. As the two of you leaned against the bar, waiting to be acknowledged, you tilted your head at him, feeling slightly emboldened for a moment, but it quickly melted when his eyes met yours.

“Yes?” He asked, a smirk on his own face. 

“Nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” he teased. “Looks like you’ve got something you want to say.”

“Maybe there’s lots I want to say,” you clapped back, putting your hand on your hip. “But I don’t think I’m going to.” You gave him a sassy smile in an attempt to hide the complete and total whirlwind of thoughts raging for consideration within you. 

He took a step closer, coming into your personal space, and his hand that rested on the bar counter was dangerously close to your waist. You could almost feel his touch, without any contact being made at all. His eyes were dark beneath his brows, his sharp profile illuminated by the colorful lights all around, and your heart skipped a beat. 

“You sure?” he purred, a smug look on his face as though he knew the effect he had on you. “Nothing at all?”

“You’re the worst,” you stammered, dropping your chin and fixing your stair on the ground beside you.

“Yeah,” he conceded with a snort. “Well, you still like me.”

Your head flew up faster than a ship jumping into hyperspace, and you stared at him in utter shock as your stomach plunged. Your mouth fell open a little bit as you frantically searched for words, coming up with none and snapping it shut again. He shifted the tiniest fraction closer, looming over you now in a way that would be intimidating if your veins weren’t coursing with adrenaline and the sheer desire to grab his shirt and show him all that you couldn’t say. 

“Thought so,” he said with a satisfied rumble of laughter that made your knees weak.

“I don’t… I mean, I couldn’t…” You fumbled hopelessly, turning away a tiny bit as you grappled for any kind of response.

“Hey lady,” a clone voice said from behind you. “ This guy bothering you?” You turned around to see a trooper with his head closely shaved except for some intricate designs along the sides. He was standing tall, an inch or two over Hunter, and had a warm intensity to his gaze that showed genuine concern more than creepiness or bravado.

You looked back to Hunter, who was still leaning on the bar, relaxed and unbothered. He lifted his eyebrows at you, uncharacteristically playful, and said, “Well?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” you said to the blue-armored clone, who gave you a polite nod before leaving with one last suspicious glare at Hunter.

“So… you were saying?” Hunter poked, tilting his head at you and fanning the flame. Was he flirting? For real? Or just trying to make you flustered, for his own fun and entertainment? 

“Now you’re just being cruel,” you whined, and he laughed, an authentic, deep sound that made you swoon. 

“I would never.”

“Hunter, we’ve got to go,” a pert voice broke through your fantasy, and you turned to see a bespectacled man with a serious face standing beside Hunter, who looked at you with an unreadable expression as your heart sank and disappointment lay heavy over the two of you.

“Well. Hope I see you again,” he admitted, a wistful tone to his voice as he brushed his fingers across the back of your hand, sending a jolt of electricity through you, and dipped his head in goodbye before disappearing out the front door. 

You went home to your “personal massager” that night. 

* * * 

You were finishing the patient notes for the day as you bent over your screen at work, tapping away with diligence as you looked forward to freedom for the evening. It had been nearly a week since you’d seen Hunter at 79s, and you’d been kicking yourself for not speaking up more, or flirting more, or making a move, or something. You doubted your paths would cross again, as your friend shared that she’d only seen Clone Force 99 at the bar once before, and she was quite the regular. Bringing your thoughts back to the present, you groaned inwardly as your comm pinged with an incoming message, and you considered not looking at it to avoid any calls to stay late. But curiosity got the better of you, and you took a look at the screen. 

//18:42//-ENCRYPTED- {Chewed out any regs lately?}

Your mouth fell open, brow furrowed, as you studied the message. It wasn’t an internal memo, nor was it from any sort of source you’d seen before. It couldn't be… Could it? You smirked, curious to try something that might seem inconspicuous if it were, in fact, an error, but might be playful if it were him.

//18:43// - {Unfamiliar source number, identification needed.}

The response seemed to take ages.

//18:47//-ENCRYPTED- {Identification can be provided in the maintenance alleyway of the med center.}

You were embarrassed how quickly you got there. 

The door swung open into a long, narrow gap between the large hospital buildings, filled with random parts and trash chutes, and your heart leapt in your chest when you saw his gray and red armor.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, positively thrilled and unable to hide it.

“I… Well… I don’t know,” Hunter admitted with a chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “I haven’t been able to get you off my mind since we had to leave… So I thought it might need some medical attention.” 

Now it was your turn to laugh, the sheer delight of it all cascading over you. “Oh, and a crusty alleyway seems like a very sterile environment.” He grinned, shaking his head, and you caught a glimpse of his own vulnerability, realizing that he, too, was fairly out of sorts when it came to smooth talk and flirtation. Somehow, that made you feel better, and all the regrets and “what ifs” of the last number of days began a relentless protest in your mind. “Well, let’s see what I can do,” you murmured, stepping closer to where he leaned against the wall. His eyebrows climbed up his head, giving away his utter surprise, and the sight gave you tingles. 

“I… ah…” he began, but you leaned into him a little, fueled by months of daydreams and a lifetime of self-loathing for all the opportunities you were too cowardly to take hold of. Plus, his sheepishness and his admission were all you’d needed to hear, and there was an undeniable affection in his eyes that melted you to the core. 

“Let’s see if we can help you out a bit?” you offered, simultaneously cringing and delighting at the complete and total ridiculousness of it all. But then he tilted his head and lifted a single, curled finger to your chin, tipping it up toward his face and sealing your fate as hopelessly enthralled. His dark eyes glittered with warmth and trepidation, and the next thing you knew, your lips were pressed against his, eyes closed, arms around his neck. 

It was so soft, so absolutely mind-blowingly perfect; your entire body was electrified as his own arms wrapped around you. You felt him exhale, his nose against your cheek, and you were overwhelmed with joy at his closeness, his vulnerability, his all-consuming presence that filled your senses. His body formed around yours, his mouth still gently nestled against your own, and you melted a little further into him, wishing that it would never end. 

When you finally did separate with a soft smack of the lips, you left your faces close, your eyes darting to his, which remained closed for an extra second before slowly opening with a relaxed warmth that had you feeling weak all over again. You couldn’t resist leaning your forehead against his own, reaching a hand up to caress his cheek for a moment before begrudgingly pulling back a bit. 

“Thank you,” you whispered lamely, and he exhaled through his nose.

“Thank you,” he echoed, sheepish and disarmed. 

“Please contact me anytime you need any sort of medical attention,” you continued, wrinkling your nose at just how terrible it all sounded, but he snickered, slowly releasing you with a nod.

“My job is quite harmful.”

Are you 18+? Interested in a smutty part two? Click here. ;)

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A night like that one was much too rare. The sun had just finished going down beneath the horizon, and the faintest hue of blue still lit the sky while the stars had already begun their nightly dance. The breeze was warm on your skin, even with the drops of water that lingered on you as you sat at the edge of the pool with your feet and calves still in the water, your hands running down your wet hair as you sighed and took in the life of the moment. The speakers played chill tunes, easy to listen to, perfect to vibe with the summery air and the laughs coming from all around the pool.

You looked around and smiled at the fact that all of your favorite troopers were there, and even some you hadn’t seen before—probably shinies who had just joined their platoons. Boys from the 501st, 212th, hell, even the 99s had bothered to come to a summer pool night on Naboo for their shore leave.

You couldn't help but laugh and think you’d seen it all when, across the pool, you saw that silver-haired sniper taking a sip from a bright cocktail. And his eyes were on you too, glaring, but you were used to that. You shot a cheeky grin at Crosshair only for him to roll his eyes and look away.

Your gaze remained on him for a little longer until you heard somebody diving into the pool, and when you looked at the crystalline water lit by the warm bulbs submerged in it, you quickly realized it was Fives as he emerged from under the water running his hands up his face and towards the back of his head, brushing the hair away. In that pose, Fives opened his arms and flexed, showing off his biceps as he shot you his signature charming grin, winking at you.

“These babies have gotten bigger since the last time I saw you, sweetheart,” Fives beamed.

Laughter escaped you—as much as you adored Fives, his attempts at flirting were always a sight to behold. Something about young, handsome soldiers tripping over their feet for your attention made you wish all summer nights were like that one, and to follow along with Fives’ game, you crossed one leg over the other, planted your hands firmly on the ground at your sides and shrugged, pursing your lips together.

“I don’t know, they kinda look the same to me,” you teased him.

“Don’t listen to him,” you heard the voice next to you as Jesse took a seat beside you only to fully get into the pool and swim over next to Fives, adopting his same pose. “I actually think I pull it off better, and I only lift half as often as he does. It’s like I don’t even have to try.”

“Oh, shut up!” Fives yelled, grinning mischievously as he brushed his hand and forearm over the water’s surface in Jesse’s direction, splashing him.

“That’s how you wanna do it, you runt?” Jesse played along and began splashing back.

As if that gesture were a galactic beckoning for the clones, the pool almost instantly became filled with troopers wanting to partake in the splash battle. You giggled as you watched them splash and wrestle playfully—the scene in front of you was probably the best definition of “boys being boys.” You loved it, and laughter wouldn’t stop leaving you. For the duration of that night, you hadn’t enjoyed anything more than what was currently playing out in front of you.

However, across the pool, the same pair of piercing amber eyes glared past the scene and into you, but you weren’t taking notice of that anymore.

It only took a few seconds for the clones’ splash war to no longer be about you, and the water flying in from multiple directions was beginning to get out of hand. Wiping a couple of drops that had fallen near your eyes, you got up and made your way towards the chair where you’d left your things. You slipped your feet into your sandals, smiling at the sound of the racket behind you blending with the music, and then you took the cream-colored shawl you’d taken to the party and wrapped it around your hips in a makeshift skirt. You were in the mood for a drink now, but while the water wars ended, you figured you’d hit the powder room to adjust your suit.

Crosshair watched you from where he stood, his eyes following your silhouette as you walked from the pool to the lounge. Every time your right leg came forward, your skin was exposed by the edges of the fabric wrapped around your hips, offering him a teasing glimpse of your thigh. He picked up on the sway of your hips, the delicate left and right of every step that you took, partnered perfectly with your hands coming back and forth in tandem with your stride. As you walked past the chairs and the tables, Crosshair took in how gracefully your hair framed your face, as well as how perfectly the top of your bathing suit framed your breasts and the top half of your belly, letting him see the skin just above your belly button only for the smoothness to stop just above your womb, where the shawl began.

Fuck. He suppressed a groan. Did you even have any idea how sensual you looked? Clearly you didn’t, why else would you waste yourself on all those amateurs trying to impress you with a basic flex and a splish-splash of water?

You’d made it to the common mirror just outside the restrooms and looked at your reflection in the flattering warm lighting. You combed through your hair using your fingers, trying to achieve a carefree look, a blend between messy and done that seemed right for the night. When you were done with that, you eased a few creases on the fabric of your shawl and tightened the knot—you didn’t want that getting loose on accident—and you smoothed out the top of your bathing suit as well. Once you were ready to head back out into the party, you turned around and began making your way where you came from. Your thoughts on what cocktail you were gonna get were interrupted by a tall, lean silhouette dressed in black coming into view. The sight of those amber eyes made you stop in your tracks, and you couldn’t help the little grin that appeared on your lips.

“Look who finally decided to socialize,” you teased him.

Crosshair scoffed, his eyes looking aside as he did. “Don’t flatter yourself. I wouldn’t waste my time or energy with you.”

You placed your hands over your heart, faking a heartache. “Must you hurt me so?”

“I’m not particularly happy with you,” Crosshair crooned.

You giggled. “You’re never happy with anyone. And you of all people have no reason to hold anything against me, you never even let yourself open up to me.” Your gaze softened and you took a step towards him, holding your fists behind your back and pouting up at him. “Why won’t you let me in, Crosshair?”

Again, he rolled his eyes. “I didn’t come here for this.”

“Something tells me you did,” you answered. “Here I am, what do you want with me?”

“Nothing,” Crosshair nearly spat the word out.

You raised a brow. No one in that party could deny how insightful you were, not even him.

Crosshair scoffed again. “Fine, I’ll bite.”

“Please do,” you couldn’t resist the urge to say.

“Maybe I didn’t like the way the others were making fools out of themselves for your attention,” Crosshair glared. “It was pathetic to watch.”

“Ah,” you crossed your arms, nodding slowly. “So you’re jealous.”

“Fuck, no,” Crosshair smirked. “I just wouldn’t be caught dead being a complete idiot like that.”

“So you aren’t jealous?” You smirked back.

“No.”

“Then why do you look like you’re about to stab someone?” Your smirk widened.

You’d cornered him, and Crosshair hated that. He was used to always having the upper hand, the higher ground, to being on top of everything. Nothing could ever surprise him, and when it did, it only meant he’d screwed up. The fact that you had just done that in the most leisurely of settings made him want to puke.

“Forget this,” he said, his silhouette beginning to turn around.

“I didn’t take you for the type to run away, Crosshair,” you said as your hands went over to your hips and you shifted your weight onto your left side, emphasizing the curves of your silhouette.

Crosshair faced you again, his gaze darkening at the little pose you’d adopted. You noticed his eyes running down your body, but when they met yours again, his gaze hardened.

“Fuck you,” he said, without hesitating.

You scoffed, looking at him from head to toe as well. “Fuck me yourself, you coward. I’d like to see if you can.”

He scoffed, his thin lips curving into a smile as he made his way towards you painfully slowly. Hovering in front of you, he took his fingers up to your chin, tilting your face up, making your breath hitch despite your witty exterior.

“You better be damn serious about that, doll,” Crosshair purred with hungry eyes.

“What, did I stutter?” Your breath shook as you whispered, and your hand snaked up his abdomen and felt his chest over the black shirt he wore. “What other way do I have to tell you I want this?”

The hand that was on your chin traveled back and down to cup the side of your neck, firm, but never hard enough to hurt you. Crosshair’s fingertips rested gently on your nape, and his other hand went up and joined the first in perfect symmetry. He pressed his body closer to yours, never breaking eye contact with you, and your heart beat so fast you were afraid he’d be able to hear it through your chest. He was devastatingly handsome, looming over you, watching you with lustful eyes foreboding passion. It didn’t matter where you were. It didn’t matter if there were people outside—they were enjoying their own night, they didn’t have to be involved in what only concerned you and Crosshair. All that mattered was the sensation of his hands on your skin, your hands over his chest, and the heat beginning to boil low in your stomach.

You half-expected another snarky remark, another sneer coming from Crosshair just to test the waters, but you basked in the mercy of the satisfaction that came when Crosshair finally crashed his lips down on yours. He stepped towards you and you stepped backwards, stumbling into the bathroom for him to lock the door behind him when you were both already inside. The music continued to boom from the party outside, as did the cheers and the laughter from everyone blissfully ignorant of the fire catching between you and the marksman. You didn’t have to worry about being heard.

You blindly walked backwards with your fists tugging at Crosshair’s shirt, your mind swarming with the concept of him as he devoured your lips with luscious kisses and mischievous nibbles. You felt your back bump into the wall next to the sink, and he pressed you onto it, letting you feel the erection growing under his pitch-black boxer bathing suit. You whimpered at the hardness and let your hands travel up his chest and around his shoulders until the tips of your fingers found his silver hair, which you twirled and tugged hoping to get a sound from him. Crosshair pleased you by letting out a low grunt and grew more passionate with every tug you gave to his hair.

One of the hands that was on your neck traveled down to your waist and kneaded your flesh with his fingertips, freeing your neck for him to take his kisses down to that sensitive skin he so badly wanted to mark. You shuddered when you first felt Crosshair suck on your neck, and you were astounded at his ease to find your sweetest spot. He nibbled and sucked such that you were certain there would be a maroon mark on your skin, and you enjoyed every second of it. You were enjoying the idea of coming out of that bathroom with that mark on your neck for everyone to see, and something told you Crosshair would get a kick of it as well, parading you in front of everyone else to show them how it’s really done.

When he was finished with your neck, Crosshair moved down your body leaving a trail of kisses and nibbles whilst feeling every inch of your body he could, including your hardened nipples over the fabric of your swimsuit, until he was on his knees in front of you. His hands greedily squeezed the flesh of your buttcheeks as he focused his kisses on your lower abdomen, just above the line where your shawl and the bottom of your bathing suit began. Unwilling to wait much longer to finally taste you, Crosshair curled his fingers around your bathing panties and pulled them down your legs with ease. You stepped out of them for him to hand them to you for you to hold in one hand, and when your other hand went to undo your top, he was quick to stop you.

“No, doll,” Crosshair purred. “You’re keepin’ that on.”

You giggled at him in response, and by his actions, he didn’t intend for you to remove that shawl either. Part of you would have preferred for Crosshair to have already been shirtless at this point, but any sort of thought faded when Crosshair took one of your legs and wrapped it around his back—it was only until then you became aware that your aching cunt was finally exposed to him.

Crosshair split the fabric of your shawl and placed it over your hips to keep it out of the way; he held your butt with one hand to keep you steady while he used his index and thumb fingers on his other hand to lift the hood of your clit. Your mind barely had a second to ponder on the fact that he knew what he was doing, and when you felt his tongue begin to brush over the pearl of your clit, your whole world faded. A deep moan escaped you, and your head fell back to the wall as your chest heaved at every sensation Crosshair gifted you with. You slipped farther from sanity and nearer into bliss, feeling he’d tip you over the edge in an obscenely small amount of time.

Switching between luscious kissing and precise sucking, Crosshair turned you from confident temptress to whimpering mess, pleased at the idea of having you at his mercy. Your moans grew louder and more desperate, and your hand reached down to find his hair again, twirling and tugging at his beautiful silver locks. You drew a moan from Crosshair, and its vibrations resonated deep within your flesh, finally finishing you off. Your already helpless moaning turned into pleading mewls as the pleasure that focused on your clit exploded into beautiful flames invading every corner of your body. Your muscles tensed as you squirmed, knowing it was only Crosshair’s grip keeping you upright. You were oblivious to the amount of times you whimpered his name, you only had the headspace to rut your hips against him, as if you weren’t feeling enough mind-erasing pleasure already.

You wanted more. You wanted his fullness, his touch. You wanted him.

Crosshair emerged from between your legs as if he were coming up for air after a long swim. You were dazzled, panting in the aftermath of every wave of pleasure you’d just felt, but you managed to look down and see him smirking proudly. Crosshair grunted as he stood up, towering over you again, and just when you were beginning to make sense of the world around you again, you saw him pulling down his bathing shorts to reveal a long, hard erection waiting just for you.

You couldn’t help but moan at the sight, making him chuckle with pride.

“Got room for some more?” Crosshair asked.

You nodded frantically, and without hesitation, Crosshair firmly grasped your ass and lifted you, resting part of your weight on the sink beside you. You clung to him, needily wrapping your legs around his waist, and he could only hum at the sight, pleased. After the painful wait, you finally felt Crosshair sliding himself into you, hissing at the initial stretch of your flesh only for you to moan when it became the most incredible sensation you’d ever experienced.

And Crosshair took it from there. Holding you firmly, he took care of every movement. Your arousal made it easier for him to slip in and out of you at whatever speed he desired, and you could tell he wasn’t planning on putting anything off. He was quick, accurate, decisive, grunting low and seductive into your ear with every few thrusts into your hips. Your nails clawed into his upper back, moaning deeply as you tightened your legs around him as much as you could, and it heightened the sensations you felt.

As he continued to fuck deep into you, Crosshair made eye contact with you for a moment, his cocky exterior suddenly becoming caring, even soft. The thought of your prior conversation entered your mind—how long had he felt that way for you? How long had you been suppressing your own desires for him?

Now that you were in his arms, feeling all the pleasure he could give you, you were certain you were where you needed to be.

A tender moan of his name escaped you just before you felt the pleasure expand through your body again. The moans induced by this second orgasm were far louder and embarrassingly more lustful than those of the first, and Crosshair thrust his hips faster into you as he fisted your hair and gave it a light tug. Your vision went white as you succumbed to the pleasure, to him, until you felt the heat of his release inside you followed by soft, low-pitched moans that sealed every one of your feelings for him.

Carefully, he set you down, and once he was sure that your feet were firm on the ground, Crosshair went limp in front of you. His arms were the only thing that remained strong as he caged you to the wall, panting to recover his breath in tandem with you. His lips were close to yours, and you couldn’t help but reach your hands up to cup his face and kiss him gently. Crosshair kissed you back without a hesitation, retrieving his hands from the wall to place them over your wrists, pressing you deeper to him.

“You never had to be jealous, Crosshair,” you whispered.

“Don’t blame me,” he panted, “for getting a little unhinged at the thought of someone else trying to satisfy you.”

“Hey, if this is the result, I’ll take it any day,” you winked. “I should have known a tease and a challenge was all it took.”

Crosshair smirked at you and let his hands travel down to your waist, straightening his back and lifting your feet up with him. “Wanna show off your hickey?”

You felt the heat rush to your cheeks. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

Crosshair chuckled and pecked your lips, setting you down on the floor again and pulling up his bathing suit again. “Come.”

You put the bottom of your bathing suit on and followed him out of the refresher with your arm linked in his, ready for all the stares you were about to receive. Crosshair would definitely show them all, and you never would have fathomed the idea of parading a fresh hickey in front of a group of men who were flirting with you minutes earlier, but if that love hadn’t made you a bit crazy, you wouldn’t have been doing it right.

NSFW:

Person A: "Go fuck yourself"

Person B: "Fuck me yourself, you coward"

SFW:

Person A: "You're the worst"

“Commander Wolffe?” You lean against the door frame in between your bedroom and the living room of your Coruscant apartment. You blink, making sure that you weren’t imagining things. Low and behold, your commanding officer was still half asleep on the couch.

His mismatched eyes give you a half glare as he sits up. You quickly glance him over, noticing the top half of his armor resting on the chair next to him. You both remain at this weird stand off before you sigh and head to the kitchen.

“Caf?” You call over your shoulder. You begin making the pot before you get an answer from him. You had seen the amount of caf Wolffe could go through when he had flimsiwork to do after a large battle or rescue mission.

You are the head engineer for the 104th. Usually your job would go to a clone, but after most of the battalion had been lost near the start of the war you had been recruited instead. Something or other about the Kaminoans at the time needing to train more engineers.

It had been weird at first being the only natural born on an entire Star Destroyer other than General Plo Koon and an occasional visit from Admiral Coburn. However, you grew to enjoy the company of the clones around you and they all seemed to get along with you. Apart from two that is and one of those was a recent development.

You can see Wolffe walk into your kitchen and sit down at your small table. While he doesn’t say anything, you turn just in time to see him take in a whiff of your brewing high grade caf. He almost smiles.

“I’ll take that as a yes on the caf than, Commander.” You state, unable to stop the smug smile from spreading across your face. Falling back on the jabs and glares that were the foundation for the majority of the conversations you had with him before whatever falling out had happened.

The trance of good smelling caf is broken as he now focuses his eyes on you and fully frowns, but still nods. You turn back to the caf, reminded once again that something had happened to change his opinion of you. You had no idea what though. At first he seemed to enjoy the banter with you until he started out right avoiding you a few months back. At least with the battalion’s CMO, you knew exactly why you two didn’t get along; you had a tendency of trying to take care of your own wounds yourself.

Actually for someone who can’t seem to stand me, how the hell did he end up on my couch? The thought hits you like a tidal wave as the caf machine beeps and you pour the two cups. You take them to the table and hand Wolffe his. You quietly add your extras in, once again trying to figure out why Wolffe was in your apartment, as he quietly enjoys his caf black.

“I don’t dislike you.” He breaks through your spiraling thoughts as you look up at him from your now much lighter caf.

“Since when?” You want to smack yourself when the unfiltered response reaches the open air.

“Since we met,” Wolffe snaps back. “Alright, Corvid.” You didn’t know how to respond to that. Both with the confession and the nickname most of the Wolfpack referred to you as. You were often perched in high places on the Star Destroyer when troops found you during any off time, wore mostly black when not in uniform, and you had somehow become a kind of safe house for Wolfpack contraband, which were mostly harmless things. Since most of your conversations recently had been unavoidable and professional, you hadn’t heard him call you that in months.

“You go down a different hall the moment you see me, how exactly am I supposed to take that, Wolffe?” It comes out far more resigned than the anger you wanted and he doesn’t deny it. “What brought this on anyway?”

“I overheard you tell a batch of shinies at 79’s that I hated you.” It’s the wrong answer to the wrong question, but it gives you information you wanted none the less. The heat rushes to your face and you watch him smirk. Fuck. You resist a very powerful urge to bang your head against the table. Cause if he heard that then he probably heard what your tipsy ass had said after that. At least you hadn’t been completely drunk and totally made a fool of yourself.

When he doesn’t say anything, your shoulders relax in relief. No hangover and he didn’t hear the more embarrassing half of that conversation. Today might actually be an okay day.

“Still doesn’t explain why you are on my couch.” You grumble as you take a sip of your slowly cooling drink.

“I came by to check that you got home alright and I wanted to talk to you. And you invited me in.” You nearly spit out your caf.

“I did not.”

“You were half asleep. You told me to spend the night with how late it was and waved at the couch.” Wolffe pauses before giving you a sharp smirk. “Besides, you wouldn’t rat out your favorite.”

“I totally play favorites. Mine just so happens to also hate me. Kriff, I’m fucking pathetic and toxic as hell, but oh well. You only live once.” You had raised a glass and the shinies had seemed to get a good laugh out of your self deprecating jokes. The memory makes your stomach churn.

No, he definitely heard the entire conversation with the shinies. Great, just fucking great.

“You’re the worst.” You growl.

“Yeah well you still like me.” The smug response makes you want to scream. But you're suddenly hit with the fact that he’s not rejecting you.

You inspect him for a moment; your mind trying to put together some other explanation for this situation. Wolffe smirks again as he sets his now empty cup down. Your thoughts take a carnal turn for a moment, having never seen his top half with just his blacks on up close. You shake them away as a new surge of anger comes through.

“Why did you avoid me then? I was trying to figure out for mouths why the fuck…”

“I thought avoiding you would end it. But it seemed to just make it worse for both of us apparently.” He cuts you off and you take a second to digest the words. It’s quiet for too long.

“And that was a mistake.” It’s not quite an apology, but he says it like it’s one. You open your mouth to except the peace offering.

“I’m sorry.” The genuineness of it soothes your remaining anger.

“Thank you.” As you say it, most of the tension finally leaves your kitchen.

“So what happens now?” Wolffe smirks again at the question as he leans in close.

“Well Corvid, you said we only live once.” You blush and stare at one another a quick moment before his hands gently rest on the sides of your face. He glances at your mouth and back at your eyes. A silent question.

You nod. A silent response earns you a kiss you have wanted and waited to long for.

You stood in the doorway, taking in the scene. 

An Ithorian and Weequay were laughing as they watched a small girl play dejarek against an armored man. A few other men in similar armor were scattered around the room. 

One of them caught your eye, his eyes scanning up and down your body as though he was picking out every little detail about you. You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, attempting to break the eye contact you were unfortunate enough to catch. 

“Bandana, Goggles,” a trandoshan woman called from a door to the side. “Get over here. We need to talk.”

Cid, you thought as you watched the man who’d been staring you down move towards the office with the one who’d been playing dejarek. 

The girl he’d been playing against hopped down from the table and made her way over to the two other men and their animated conversation about something you couldn’t hear. The girl pulled on the pale man’s arm, whispering in his ear. As she pulled away, the man looked up at you, eyeing you suspiciously. 

He said something to the girl, who laughed and shrugged. 

You had moved to the bar and sat down by the time the two men came out of the transoshan’s office. She noticed you and walked to you behind the bar. 

“Something I can get for you?” she asked warily. 

“I hope so,” you muttered, glancing at the rest of the room over your shoulders. “I need passage. Heard you could arrange it.”

“Do I look like a damn travel agent?” she sneered. 

“I can pay,” you offered. 

She eyed you suspiciously. “You’ll pay and you’ll do something for me to pay the rest of it.”

“What do I have to do?”

—

This wasn’t what you had in mind; being stuck for four weeks on a cramped ship with the men and girl you’d seen in the parlor. 

The girl - Omega, she’d enthusiastically introduced herself as - was polite and very curious, but overall somewhat harmless. 

You’d figured the men were soldiers before Omega had introduced them, but when she said the group was comprised completely of clones you almost doubted her. You’d seen plenty of clones during the war, but never ones like these. 

It was the beginning of week two of the long journey across the galaxy when the group’s cyborg, Echo, cornered you in the cargo bay. His arms were crossed over his chest as he leaned against the doorway, blocking your path out of the cramped storage room. 

“Can I help you?” you asked, voice dripping with irritation. 

“Not me,” Echo replied. “At least not directly.”

You looked at him, thoroughly unamused. 

“Look, Hunter’s been a little… on edge lately,” he sighed. “We’ve all seen the way he looks at you when-”

“The way he looks at me? Oh, please,” you scoffed. “He looks at me like I’m out to get him or something. ‘Course he’s on edge; he hates me and wants to drop me at the next refueling station.”

Echo took a deep breath. “I meant the way he looks at you when you’re not looking.”

The expression your face held must’ve been something, because Echo chuckled, leaning in closer to you, checking for Omega over his shoulders. 

“You didn’t hear this from me,” he said, his voice lowering significantly. “And I definitely didn’t overhear him talking to Tech, but he wants you.”

“What?” you sputtered. 

He shushed you. “He was talking to Tech because he knows Wreck’s got a big mouth and I like the drama too much. But you’re right; he does not like you, but he wants you so bad he said it hurts.”

You scowled at the floor, listening to all the details Echo spilled to you in almost exhaustive detail. 

“I didn’t think I would be his… type,” you mumbled. 

Echo chuckled. “I don’t think he actually has a type.”

You weren’t sure what to do with this information. He disliked you just about as much as you disliked him, but there was something… magnetic about the man. 

It wasn’t as if you hadn’t thought about ripping that stupid bandana off his head and tying his arms back with it. 

You definitely did not imagine weaving your fingers through his hair and pulling hard. 

And under no circumstance did you find yourself curious about how far down his body that tattoo goes. 

Oh, you were fucked.

—

A few days later, you found yourself alone on the ship as the others went out on a supply run. Well, almost alone. 

Hunter had scowled at you when you offered to stay behind to keep any eye on the ship, saying that he’d stay, too. 

You ignored the wicked smirk and wink Echo had thrown your way before the ramp closed. 

“Don’t trust me, sergeant?” you’d asked, eyeing Hunter as he sat at one of the consoles. 

He scoffed. “Think you know the answer.”

“The rest of the squad seems to like me,” you smirked. “Maybe I’m just not your type.”

Hunter tensed in his seat. 

You hummed with satisfaction. “Loth-cat got your tongue, Hunter? Too bad, I thought I might find it to be useful.” 

His breathing became heavier. “Go fuck yourself.”

“Fuck me yourself, you coward.”

A sharp inhale. Yeah, you had him right where you wanted him. “Personally, I think you’d like to be useful to me, even if you don’t like me so much.”

“Damnit, Tech,” he breathed. 

“Oh, Tech didn’t tell me a thing,” you cooed, stepping behind him, your fingers ghosting across the back of his neck. “Maybe you’re just that obvious.”

Hunter made a low rumbling noise, almost like he was growling at you. 

“Pretty sure I know every little thing you want me to do to you,” you whispered, your lips nearly touching his ear. He shuddered. “And I think I could probably be convinced to help you out, if…”

He was gripping the arms of the chair hard. “If?”

You spun the chair to face you. His brown eyes were dark, gazing up at you defiantly. “If… you can show me what a good boy you can be for me.”

His eyes fell closed as another shiver ran down his spine. He nodded once. 

You smirked in your victory. “Color?”

“Green,” he breathed. 

“On your knees,” you ordered. He practically fell to the floor, eagerly awaiting your next command. “How obedient.”

You grabbed his face by the jaw, pulling him to crawl after you into the cockpit, locking the door behind you. You leaned against the door, undoing your pants to pull out your cock, already hard. 

Hunter gazed at your length, looking like he was going to start drooling. 

“C’mere,” you said, giving yourself a quick couple strokes. “Suck.”

Hunter took you into his mouth, eagerly taking as much of your erection as he could, his tongue running along the underside. 

You hummed with pleasure as you caught him gazing up at you through his lashes. 

“Still green?” you grunted. 

He pulled off of your cock with an obscene pop, his lips slick with his spit, replacing his lips with his hands. 

“Yes,” he nearly moaned, wrapping his lips around your tip again. 

“‘Yes’, what?”

“Y-yes, sir.”

“Mmm, good.” 

Your fingers carded through his long hair. Gripping his head, you thrust your hips towards him experimentally, relishing the way he moaned around your dick. 

“Fuck, you like that?” you teased.

“Mmm-hmmm,” he hummed on you. 

“Good,” you smirked, grabbing his head once again. You fucked into his mouth, loving the tears you see threatening to spill as you hit the back of his throat. 

After a few more strong thrusts, you pulled out, moving his head by the chin to admire the trails of drool leaking from his lips. 

“I’ll admit, you took that very well,” you praised. “Tell me, pretty boy; what do you need?”

Hunter let out a shaky sigh, mumbling something you couldn’t hear. 

Your hand wrapped around the front part of his throat, pulling a light gasp from him. “Speak up or you’ll get nothing from me.”

“S-said I want you t-to fuck me,” he stuttered. 

You released his neck. “That’s better. You have lube?” He nodded. “Bring it to me.”

Hunter got to his feet, rushing out of the room and coming back with a small bottle. 

“Good boy,” you said as you took the tube, smirking at the way he shuddered. “Undress completely, then I want you to kneel in that chair.”

He quickly did as he was told, and you had one of your questions answered; the tattoo did cover his entire left side. 

Hunter knelt in the seat of the copilot’s chair, using the back of it to support himself. You admired his form in this position, giving his ass a light smack. He moaned as it jiggled. You hadn’t guessed he’d have such a thick ass, but you weren’t complaining. 

“How long has it been?” you questioned, pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it behind you. 

“M-months,” he admitted. “Please.”

You chuckled. “Oh don’t worry; I’m gonna take good care of you.”

Another shuddering moan as you opened the bottle of lube, squirting some onto your fingers. 

“Color?” you asked, brushing the lube against his asshole. 

“Green, it’s green,” he pleaded. “Maker, please.”

You didn’t respond, just pushed a finger into his waiting hole, his sigh of relief hitting your ears musically. 

Slowly, you pulled your finger almost the whole way out of him, then pushed it all the way back in. A low groan emanated from his throat. 

You pushed and pulled more, fucking him with your finger ever so slowly. 

“M-m-more, please,” he begged. 

You obliged, pushing another finger into him. His moans became a little louder, so after a few experimental thrusts you added a third. 

“Fuck,” he hissed. “Fuck yes.”

You squirted more lube onto your fingers before pushing them back in, watching how his hole eagerly pulled you in. 

His moans and sighed echoed in your ears as you finger fucked him.

“S-sir,” he panted, turning his head to glance at you. 

“You ready?” you smirked.

“Yes,” he moaned as you thrust your hand roughly. 

“Good boy,” you said, slapping his ass again as you pulled your fingers out. 

You pulled your pants down, kicking them off in the direction of your shirt. Your cock was leaking a little precum, you so slathered it down your shaft along with the lube that still coated your fingers. You added a little more, stroking your cock to cover it. 

“Please,” Hunter begged. “Please, I want your cock.” 

“Patience, sarge,” you cooed, brushing the tip of your dick against his ready hole. 

He pushed his hips back, the end of your length slipping into him. 

“Color, good boy?”

“Fuck, it’s so green.”

You chuckled, pushing your hips forward, your hand guiding your cock into the tight sheath that was his ass. 

You both moaned as he easily took your length. You mumbled some praises, everything from how well he took you to how tight he was gripping. 

“Move, please,” he whimpered. 

You obliged, pulling your hips back and snapping them forward again. 

Hunter cried out, gripping the seat back. “Again, again, please.”

You did as he pleaded, pulling back and snapping forward a few more times. You then set a steadier pace, thrusting your hips against his, loving the way your balls slapped against his taint. 

One hand left his hip as you reached forward to grasp his hair. You pulled at the handful you got as you thrust even harder. 

“Ah!” he sobbed at the slight change in angle. His back arched beautifully as you pulled his hair. “Fuck yes, right there! Gonna make me cum!”

“Fuck yeah, cum for me,” you panted. 

Hunter’s volume increased as his rambling about how he was “so close” and how he was “gonna cum” devolved into loud wanton moans. 

He nearly screamed as he fell apart under you, hot white spurts of cum spilling over the seat. You stopped the pivoting of your hips to reach around and grab his cock, jerking it roughly as he cried. 

“Give me every last drop, Hunter,” you ordered over his moans and panting. “Give me all that cum.”

His body shook violently as his voice caught in his throat, his tip dribbling cum. 

“Fuck,” he repeated over and over between pants. 

“Oh don’t worry, baby,” you smiled. “I’m gonna keep doing that.”

You pulled out of him, and the whine he gave sent a shiver down your back. 

“Get on the floor,” you ordered. “On your back.”

He did as instructed, cum still dripping down his cock. 

“Good boy,” you muttered as you got to your knees, spreading his legs and pushing them up towards his torso. You wrapped your hand around his dick, gathering the little bits of cum there and slathering it on your cock. 

You pushed into him easily, and quickly set a brutal pace. 

You looked at Hunter, who was moaning so loudly, you were sure anyone within a mile radius of the ship could hear him. 

He looked back at you, his eyes blown wide with pleasure. 

You pressed his legs forward towards his torso, delighting in your discovery of how flexible he is. 

You could feel him purposefully squeezing you and between that and the downright filthy noises dripping from his lips you knew you wouldn’t last much longer. 

“Fuck,” you groaned. 

“Cum in me,” he begged. “Please, sir, I want your cum in my ass.”

“Fuck,” you repeated as his pleading for your release continued.

Light exploded behind your eyes and your hips stuttered as you pumped his ass full of your seed. 

The grip you had on the back of his thighs were sure to bruise and Hunter almost started to get hard again just thinking about seeing them afterwards. 

You pulled out of him with a groan, and watched your cum spill out of his ass. 

“Fuck, that’s hot,” you moaned as you sat back on your feet. Hunter wrapped his hands around the back of his knees, pulling them closer to his chest. 

“You were such a good boy for me,” you cooed, pressing a few light kisses to his jaw. 

“Th-thank you,” he shuddered, his eyes half-lidded. 

“Come on, Hunter,” you smiled. “Let’s get you cleaned up and into your bunk.”

You took him to the fresher, helping him clean up the cum dripping from his ass, before basically carrying him to his bunk. 

He pulled you into the bunk with him, and even though it was much too small for two fully grown men, you’d managed to find a position comfortable for both of you. 

You gently kissed the top of Hunter’s head and he sprawled across your chest, his ear pressed firmly against your chest to listen to your heartbeat. 

Thanks for reading! - River

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