poisonousrain222

lori

she/her. twenty. virgo.

625 posts

Poisonous Thoughts***

The Bad Batch PROMPT EVENT

Crosshair X F!Reader

word count: 1.6k

prompts:

Person A: go fuck yourself

Person B: fuck me yourself, you coward.

With your relationship already on the rocks, Crosshair’s jealousy about your friendship with Howzer only adds fuel to the fire.

warnings: NSFW, 18+. sexual themes and explicit language. Jealous Crosshair, name calling, angsty, slight spoilers for episodes 6&7, implied blowjobs, mutual pining, first kiss, enemies to friends to friends to enemies to enemies to lovers. This was pretty bad and messy and all over the place. Order 66 mention.

authors note: part of the TBB PROMPT EVENT by @arctrooper69, @dumfanting & @freesia-writes. Thanks for the tag 🤍 and seeing as most people wanted me to write for Crosshair in my last poll it seems only fitting to do this!

Your relationship with Crosshair was chaotic, to say the least.

From initial animosity to a begrudging tolerance, and finally to friendship within a span of a few months, you found yourself developing a deep emotional connection with the Marksman. A very deep one. He was the kind of person who you would search for in a crowded room, wanting him to get you away from it all.

Your feelings for him left you in a state of confusion for quite some time, thoughts almost poisoned and fueled by a hope that perhaps he felt the same. There were signs—his genuine smiles reserved only for you, his seeking of your advice in moments of need, and the subtle shifts in his demeanor around you.

Then came Order 66.

When it began, you lost him. The moment it was issued, you felt his absence keenly not physically but mentally. He suddenly turned cold. And then he was gone.

And despite the anger that filled your heart for months, you almost found solace in considering his actions to be his inhibitor chip. There was a glimmer of hope but when Kamino fell, his unwavering loyalty to the new Empire blinded him.

The memory of that night alone in your bunk, crying until your throat burned, never faded. You even entertained the desperate idea of pleading with Hunter to turn back and bring him onboard, but deep down, you knew it was futile. Your love for him was over before it truly began.

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.”

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Poisonous Thoughts***

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