Necessity
Summary: The Batch’s civilian member gets doused with a toxic pollen while on a mission. Crosshair volunteers to help, but has to confront some hard feelings after.
Pairing: Crosshair x reader, implied and mentioned established poly Batch x reader
Characters: Reader (written in 3rd person, mc is not named but has an established nickname, no physical descriptions are given), The Bad Batch + Echo
Warnings: NSFW, sex pollen, dubcon, explicit P in V smut, very crude language, shitty aftercare, Crosshair is a dick, some bullshit science but it’s Star Wars so who cares, some serious talks of consent, established polyamory.
A/N: I literally spent all day writing this sob. Came out of nowhere but I liked where it was going. It’s my first clone fic so please go easy on me. Also, it takes place in some random ambiguous time after Echo joins. This may become a series with Midnight and the Batch, I’m cooking something up, but we’ll see how it goes.
< Previous | Next > | MASTERLIST
“It’s alright. You’re alright.”
The cool press of plastoid armor against her cheek is a relief to the burning under her skin. She wants to peel off her armor, peel off her skin. It’s too hot, her skin is crawling.
“...doused her...temperature’s rising.”
Tech? It sounded like Tech. His voice was fading in and out, as was her vision.
“No! Don’t take off your helmets. They’re the only thing...us from...dosed too.”
She fades out again, head lolling against the armor pressing against her.
She’s shocked awake by the cold, sputtering as cold water washes over her.
“Sorry.” Tech murmurs. “We have to get it off of you.”
His voice sounds far away despite the fact he was leaning right next to her. The cold feels good, but it does little to cool the heat beneath her skin. She’s still in her clothes, all of her getting soaked by the freezing water. She shifts a little, gasping when her thighs rub together. She’s damp. Not from the water, but there’s an intense ache between her thighs.
She reaches for his hand as he reaches across her to shut the water off. She pulls it to her face, nuzzling into the gloved hand. It’s not enough, though. She needs more. She needs to feel skin. Someone’s skin.
“Hey.” Tech stops her from pulling off the glove. “No, hang on. We’re gonna figure this out.” He wraps a towel around her shoulders. “Just hang on.”
She whimpers as he leaves her, the door sliding closed behind him.
***
“So what are we dealing with, Tech?” Hunter asks, his head resting in his hand. They had sealed off the cockpit, making sure none of the pollen had followed them in.
“It’s very fascinating.” Tech says, looking through the slides. “I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s very potent. Just this small dose could affect any one of us.”
“So how do we fix it?” Echo asks.
“It mainly affects the brain.” Tech says, still looking at the slides. “But it seems endorphins and oxytocin bind to it and neutralize it.”
“What?” Wrecker asks, the other four members of the Batch looking at Tech for further explanation.
“They’re brain chemicals. Most commonly released during sex. Judging by her body’s reaction to the pollen, that’s the whole idea. She needs that release of chemicals in order to neutralize the effects of the pollen. It’s quite genius actually,” Tech adjusts his glasses. “Quite effective in distracting an enemy platoon if they’re all out of their minds.”
“So, she rubs a few out and she’ll be alright?” Hunter asks, sinking into the pilot’s seat.
“No.” Tech deadpans.
“What do you mean, no?” Hunter asks sternly. He had been the first to notice something wasn’t right, the shift in Night’s scent, the way her heart sounded like it was going to beat right out of her chest.
“Well,” Tech starts. “It’s not that simple. This is very potent and she got a big dose directly on her body. If she can’t produce enough chemicals by herself, the prolonged state of arousal could kill her. If her temperature continues to climb, if her heart rate stays elevated too long, the dehydration, sheer exhaustion, all of it could be deadly.”
“So one of us has to fuck it out of her system?” Crosshair asks, chewing his toothpick so hard it might snap.
“That would be ideal.” Tech says. But we’d have to do it. The last bit goes unspoken.
None of them can look at each other. It had been an unspoken rule when Cody had forced codename Midnight to join them that things were to remain strictly platonic among them. It had been easy at first, as a string of missions had left them with little downtime. But when their missions became less frequent, and their travel time between them increased, it became hard for them to ignore the feelings stirring in each of them for the civilian. Even Crosshair couldn’t deny the softening of his exterior towards her, even if he did still give her reason to call him a dick constantly.
“I’ll do it.” Crosshair says, the other four occupants turning quickly to look at him.
“Cross...” Hunter starts, wanting to argue, but Crosshair doesn’t let him.
“I’m the only one who can.” He says, standing. He’s already pulling off his armor piece by piece. “We need Tech to keep a clear head in case something goes wrong. A small dose might kill Hunter with his senses.” His eyes drop to Echo. “We’re not putting Echo through something like that. And Wrecker might kill her if he loses control.” He lets his codpiece drop to the floor with a clang. “It’ll be easier for her to hate me when it’s all over.”
“He’s right.” Tech says, finally. “He’s the safest option for all of us.”
Hunter sighs, wanting to argue, but he knows Crosshair is right. “Don’t...hurt her.” He says to the sniper, not really sure what else to say. Good luck felt too wrong in this situation.
“I don’t think she’s the one you should worry about.”
****
“Give it a couple times.” Tech says as they stand outside the door. “If it’s working, she’ll show some signs of lucidity. If she’s not...I’ll try to come up with something else in the meantime.”
Crosshair nods. Just fuck her till she’s back to normal. Shouldn’t be that hard.
He gets an eyeful of her as soon as he walks through the door. She’s on her back on the floor, legs spread facing the door. Her clothes have been abandoned in a wet pile in the corner. He can’t help but zero in on where three of her fingers are stuffed into her cunt, a small puddle on the floor under her ass.
“Cross.” His name leaves her lips in a mix between a whine and a moan. It shoots straight between his legs. He runs a hand over the bulge in his blacks as he slowly approaches her.
“You’re making a mess, little girl.” He drops to his knees between her spread legs, watching her fingers slide in and out of her dripping cunt.
The nickname had started as an insult. He had meant it in the most derogatory way he could, not trusting Cody that this girl could handle herself on the kinds of missions they were sent on. He could hardly call her that in any way but ironically. She was older than him, older than all of them. He wouldn’t say it had taken on an affectionate meaning now. But she did get less angry with him when he said it.
“Please,” She begs, lifting her hips to fuck herself into her fingers. “I-I can’t...”
He grips her under the knees, her skin slick with sweat. He parts her legs as far as they’ll go. She’s flexible. He’d watched her time and time again maneuver her way through a battlefield like it was a dance. She was a competent fighter, something she had proved time and time again. She fit in with them so well, something even he had to admit.
But this. This would complicate things.
He had to do it. If he didn’t it would kill her. If he didn't, one of the others would have to. It would put them, or her, in danger. He sighs out a curse, pulling her fingers from her cunt with an obscene pop. He shoves them into her mouth, one hand holding her wrist there, the other sliding between her legs.
Her pussy is red and glistening. She’s moaning, the sound muffled by her fingers. His own slide over her slit, the copious amounts of slick allowing them to slide right into her. She moans, eyes rolling as his long fingers reach deeper into her than hers ever could. She’s so desperate, a couple passes of his thumb over her clit has her shaking and cumming around his fingers.
Her juices slide out around his fingers, wetting his hand. It’s obscene, all of it. He loves it.
He releases her to work his cock out of his blacks. There’s drool sliding out of the sides of her mouth, a string of saliva attached to her fingers as she pulls them from her mouth. He groans at the sight, passing his slick hand over his length.
“Please, Cross, I need you.” She whines, lifting her hips off the floor. “Hurts so much. Need your cock in my pussy. Need you to fuck me.”
“Yeah, little girl? You need me to fill you up?” He flips her over on her stomach, delivering a slap to her ass. He likes the way it jiggles, the way it fills his hands. How he’d love to tie her up, take her apart piece by piece until she’s begging him for relief. Not because she’ll die if she doesn’t cum.
“Please.” She whines, grinding her hips into the floor.
He curses softly, using a hand to guide himself into her. There’s almost no resistance as he slides right into her dripping cunt. He holds himself up, taking a moment to drag his eyes along the delicate curve of her spine.
She whines, lifting herself onto her elbows, grinding back against him. He watches her for a moment, enjoying the needy side of her. The things he would do to her if she were in her right mind. But she wasn’t. She was fucked up, and he needed to fuck her to fix it.
“Please.” She whines, already clamping around him as her movements grind her clit against the floor.
He presses a hand between her shoulder blades, forcing her flat on the floor with a quiet thud. He pins her down before pulling his hips back, almost slipping out of her, before surging forward. She moans loudly, the sound vibrating through his hand on her back. He keeps her pinned still, building up speed as he thrusts in and out.
The force of his thrusts have her clit dragging against the floor again, her legs already starting to shake. She was so close, the feeling of him inside her already easing some of the ache that had been burning for what felt like hours. She’s drooling on the floor where her cheek is pressed into it but she can’t bring herself to care.
He doesn't stop when she cums, working through the fluttering and squeezing of her pussy around him. He’s quickly forcing her into another. The more she came, the quicker this would be over. He tells himself that, even as he pauses to cum inside her. She had an implant, they all did. They were clones, but they were still men. They still had their needs.
He’s not sure how many times she’s cum since they started. He’d lost count, even of his own. They’re both a mess, both slick with sweat and covered in fluid. But he knows, he can tell it’s over. Her body doesn’t feel as warm, despite the fact they’d been going at it for a while. Her moans aren’t desperate anymore. They were softer and more restrained when he’d cum in her the last time. Her body was still, no longer moving with him, seeking any friction she could get.
And the way she said his name...
“Cross.” She breathes, reaching out for the hand that’s planted next to her head. “Cross, wait, please.” She wraps a hand around his arm, holding on as tight as she can. He could easily pull away, but something in her voice is keeping him still.
His knees are aching. They’d been in this position for a long time. He’d have bruises probably, but so would she. He knows she has to hurt. She’s going to hurt. He’s still inside her, going soft as she relaxes. She slowly starts to move, working herself over onto her back. It’s a bit like watching a fish attempt to flop back into water, her movements jerky and weak.
He slides out of her with a gush of fluid as she turns, making her groan and wince. There’s a wet patch of drool on the side of her face still, as well as an imprint of the lines from the floor. He doesn’t want to look at her as she lays under him, but she holds his face in her hands, forcing him to. She’s still breathing deeply to recover from the exertion, and likely being squished into the floor for so long.
“Cross.”
She says his name so gently, with so much emotion it almost makes him shiver. Kriff, what he wouldn’t give to hear it all the time. He wasn’t like Hunter, or Tech, or even Wrecker. He hadn’t given into her. Not before. He was a cold-hearted asshole to her. Sure, he’d saved her ass a few times on the battlefield, and she’d even saved his. But that didn’t mean he wanted to climb into her cot with her and fuck the adrenaline away after a fight. He did care about her, but he had never given thought to acting on the attraction.
But he couldn’t deny the stirring he felt every time he walked past her makeshift room and heard the quiet giggles, the creaking cot, the occasional moan when they thought no one was near. The quiet sighs and occasional wet smack of skin and lips from Wrecker’s bunk when she stayed with him.
“One more time.” She says quietly, wrapping her arms around him. “One more. Please.”
It would be so easy to slip back into her, fuck her for real. Finally let himself go, let himself have what he’s been denying himself of.
But he can’t. He had done what he needed to do. He pulls away, her muscles too weak to try and fight him, bring him back. He tucks himself back into his blacks wordlessly. Pushing himself to stand. He focuses on the pain in his knees, the stiffness of his body. He could at least clean her up, make sure she’s decent before Tech comes in to probe.
Instead he leaves, ignoring the calls of his name behind him.
*****
She hates him.
She tries to fight the burning tears behind her eyes. She focuses on the cramping as Tech’s fingers push into her abdomen. She’s sore and raw, her whole body feeling like she had just lost a very brutal fight. She’d been in those fights before. It was how Cody had found her.
But this. This was something else.
What she wouldn’t give for an ice cube. Or even an ice dildo. A huge ice pack she could just lay over her body and let herself go numb. It wouldn’t fix the pain inside.
She’s crying, hot tears burning her skin.
“Hey, I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you, but I have to make sure nothing’s injured.” Tech wipes the tears from her cheeks. Precious Tech, always so sweet to her.
She wishes she could tell him, explain why she was crying, but she can’t put it into words. Crosshair was a dick. A giant dick. To everyone. Even sometimes to his own squadmates, his remarks would bite a little too hard. He didn’t like her. She knew that much. She had butted heads with him time and time again since she had joined them. Name calling, verbal altercations, she’d even hit him once.
They had lessened a bit over time, when she’d proved herself capable of being a part of the squad, being involved in missions as dangerous as the ones they went on. Even after she’d drunkenly confessed her feelings to the Batch and fucked Hunter, then Wrecker, then Tech. Echo had expressed his hesitations and she had respected them. But she had made it known, if he ever did want to, she’d be willing. She had made sure Crosshair had heard that as well. But still the sniper had been cold, ignoring any and all attempts to spike his interest.
Tech had explained to her what happened. Or, at least some of it. She’d been dosed by a sex pollen, and Crosshair had elected to fuck it out of her system. He couldn’t tell her what had happened while Crosshair was with her, but she remembered bits and pieces of it. It had been more shocking that Crosshair had been the one to do it. She had been convincing herself perhaps he didn’t have any interest in sex, or maybe he wasn’t into women, before this mission.
It could still be the case. But his blatant rejection had hurt her. No explanation, no reasoning. No gentle let down. He had just up and left her. Walked out and hadn’t looked back.
The machine beside her beeps and she closes her eyes. Tech had wanted to analyze her blood, make sure there was nothing else, no lasting effects. She wanted nothing more than to go lay down, curl up somewhere, cry. She hated crying in front of them. She tried everything not to, even when she was hurt she waited until she was shut away in her makeshift cot to finally let the tears go. She had mastered the silent cry a long time ago.
She forces herself to stop, sitting through the rest of Tech’s exam quietly. He rattles off about infusions, electrolyte levels, muscle fatigue, even as he carries her back to her makeshift room. It was a storage closet they had cleared for her, giving her more privacy than their bunks. She hadn’t cared, she would have stayed in a bunk, but they thought it fair to give her more privacy. She wasn’t a soldier, and she was a woman.
She’s thankful for it now as Tech leaves her with an electrolyte pack. He’d been sweet enough to tuck her in, but that had only made the ache in her chest worse. She hated it, that she was feeling it. She would take his cruel words, his name calling, the glare in his eyes every time he looked at her over this.
Tech had said it had taken two hours before she snapped out of it. She could feel the effects of those two hours. The dull ache in her pelvis, the rawness between her legs. The ache in her chest.
She hurts. All of her hurts. Even the inside.
*****
“It’s been two days.”
“I’m sure she’s just tired.”
“But what if something’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.” Hunter says, leaning back in the pilot’s seat. “She’s...sleeping a lot.”
He had been listening in on her, checking in. She hadn’t left her room in two days except for the occasional trip to the ‘fresher. She hadn’t left since...that incident. They had all agreed not to give specifics on what had happened when the GAR inevitably contacted them about their delay. They had picked up some sort of bug from the planet, and had chosen to quarantine. It had turned out to be harmless, and they were on their way to their next destination. It wasn’t totally a lie. Just nothing specific.
No one needed to know.
She cried a lot. Hunter was the only one who heard. She tried to be tough in front of them, saving the crying for when she was alone in her room. He always heard her sniffles, scented the salty tears when he passed. He never said anything. He didn’t think she’d want him to. This time, though, he could hear her quiet sobs from the cockpit.
“What the hell did you do to her?” Wrecker finally snaps, storming towards Crosshair where he’s seated, dutifully cleaning his rifle.
“Nothing she didn’t ask me to.” Crosshair bites back, standing to defend himself.
“Hey.” Hunter steps between them, putting his hands up. “This is not helping any.” He turns to Wrecker. “If it’s bothering you so much, I’ll go check on her.”
“I’m just worried about her.” The giant deflates a little. “I miss her.”
“I know.” Hunter says, putting a hand on his shoulder. “We all do. But you remember what Tech said. She just needs some time to recover.”
Wrecker takes a step back, nodding. “I just want her to be okay.”
“I know.” Hunter squeezes his shoulder. “She will be eventually.” He turns to fix Crosshair with a gaze, the sniper still glaring, but he knows the situation’s been diffused.
Crosshair had been broody, more so than normal. He either stayed in his bunk or sat in the corner, repetitively cleaning his rifle, taking it apart and putting it back together. He hadn’t spoken much, even when Tech had checked him over. He had been bombarded with questions when he’d come to alert Tech that she had recovered, but he had ignored them all in favor of slipping away to the ‘fresher to clean up, and then hiding away in his bunk. Hunter knows it must have been hard on him, but he was right. He was the only one who could do it. Tech had reaffirmed they had no other options. Even trying to get to a medical facility wouldn’t have done much good. They likely hadn’t had that much time either.
Hunter leaves the cockpit when he’s sure things have diffused between Wrecker and Crosshair, not wanting to risk more disruptions on the ship. He can hear the quiet sniffles as he approaches, smelling the salty air. He knocks on the door, the sniffling quieting.
“I know you’re awake.” He says, finger hovering over the pad to open it. Tech had wired it so she could lock it if she wanted to, but she almost never did. “Can I come in?”
She gives no answer, the only sound inside the muffled breaths. He was the commanding officer. He had to ensure the well being of all of those under his command. He tells himself he’s not breaking any moral code when he opens the door anyway.
His eyes make a quick scan of the room. It’s dimly lit, the overhead light shut off, only the small string of lights around the bed lit. The case of rations Tech had slipped in sits unopened, as does the canteen of water next to it. He steps closer to the bed, moving slowly so as not to startle her. She’s crying again, face shoved into her pillow. The blanket is tossed haphazardly around her, pieces of bare skin revealed.
He kneels down next to the cot, reaching a hand out. “Hey.” He almost whispers it, scared of breaking the quiet heaviness of the room. The air inside is stale from not being opened, the sadness of the single occupant weighing heavy. He could almost taste it, even without his heightened senses. “I need you to tell me what’s wrong.”
She lets out a sob, pulling her face from the pillow. “I don’t know! I don’t know what’s wrong!” Her breaths are shaky, eyes red from crying. “It’s stupid! I shouldn’t care, but I can’t help it!”
He carefully scooches her over, being careful not to hurt her as he takes a seat next to her on the cot. “I need you to explain things a bit.”
She turns to face him. “Is he gay?”
“What?” He asks in confusion.
“Is Crosshair gay?”
Hunter chokes on a laugh. “I don’t...” He pauses, thinking about it. “I don’t think so. I’ve never seen him show interest in men before. Then again, I’ve never seen him show interest in women either.”
She groans, pulling the pillow over her face. “That doesn’t help me!”
“Care to share, mesh’la?” He asks, gently peeling the pillow away so she doesn't suffocate herself.
“I asked him to fuck me.” She deadpans. “I asked him after the pollen had worn off. I asked him to fuck me one more time, just so I didn’t have to feel like I was taking advantage of him, or he was taking advantage of me and I just wanted a little closure and he just walked out. Now I feel like I overstepped and it’s all my fault and I’m causing too much of a rift in the squad and I’ve made everyone uncomfortable and maybe I should just leave.”
Hunter stares down at her, processing her words. “You’re not going anywhere.” He says finally, cupping her face. “Crosshair volunteered to help you because he didn’t want any of us getting hurt, including you. I know it wasn’t easy for him either. He does care about you in his own weird Crosshair way. He’s been brooding since that day. Brooding more than usual. You should talk to him. The way you know how.” He smiles at her. “In the meantime, Wrecker is very worried about you.”
She pouts. “Poor baby, will you send him in?”
He nods, kissing her head. “Yeah. Gimme a minute.”
He heads out into the hallway, pausing by Wrecker’s bunk. He grabs Lula before calling out for his vod. He knows from the heavy footsteps in the cockpit he’s heard. He heads back to Night’s room, kneeling down next to the bed.
“Here.” He places Lula in her arms, brushing the hair from her face. She looked pathetic and he hated it. He hated seeing her like this. “What a karking idiot.” He hisses, shaking his head. “I care about all of you, but sometimes I want to let Wrecker punch Cross right through the side of the ship.”
Night cracks a smile. “I’d gladly watch that right now.”
Wrecker appears at the door with perfect timing, stepping into the small space. “Night, you okay?”
She sniffles, clutching Lula tighter to her chest. “No. Will you cuddle me?”
Wrecker grins. “Yeah I will!” He moves to the bed, picking up Midnight and settling himself on the small bunk. “It’s okay, Night. I’ve got ya.”
Hunter watches them for a moment before stepping out, closing the door. His blood boiling, anger filling him. He makes his way back to the cockpit, desperately clinging to his last bit of restraint. It goes out the window when he sees Crosshair, red filling his vision.
He grabs Crosshair from his seat, slamming him up against the wall. “How dare you! I know you’re a miserable bastard who hates everyone, but that was taking it too far!” Echo and Tech are at his sides, trying to pull him away from his vod. “How dare you leave her like that!”
Crosshair glares at him, shoving him back a bit. “You don’t know what it was like. It wasn’t her asking me to do all those things to her. I feel like I...took advantage of her. I couldn’t look her in the eye not knowing if she knew, if she remembered. If she thought I had...” He clenches his fists. “I care about her too. More than you think I do. If you think that was easy for me, if you think I don’t regret leaving her like that, you’re wrong.”
“You could have told one of us! We would have gone in, comforted her more! She’s so upset because you made her feel like she took advantage of you!”
Tech and Echo hold him back as he tries to lunge towards Crosshair again. “Hunter!” Tech draws his attention away from Crosshair, forcing him back a couple steps. “We need to discuss this, but you need to calm down first. You’re no good to anyone if you’re upset.”
Hunter can see the guilt behind Tech’s glasses. He was the first who saw her after. He had known something was off, but he hadn’t thought it could be something like this. His thoughts had all been physical ailments, aftereffects of the pollen. He was right there. He could have done something.
Hunter knows Tech is feeling partially responsible, even if it wasn’t his fault.
“We need you to calm down. Then we’ll all talk about this like adults.”
If the situation wasn’t so serious, he may have cracked a smile at the inside joke. Midnight was technically the only adult on board.
****
Midnight finds Crosshair in the hull, seated at a table. He’s got his head down, focusing on the ration in front of him. He doesn’t even bother looking up when she approaches, standing over him. She slams her hands down on the table, drawing his attention up to her face. He glares at her, eyes squinted. She’s glaring right back, nose scrunched in the adorable way it does when she’s angry.
“I’m going to talk, and you are going to listen.” She says, pointing a finger at him.
“I don’t have to do anything.” He snarks.
“No, you are going to listen because I deserve at least that much.”
He glares at her, but doesn’t reply. She knows she has him. She stays standing, leaning her hands on the table.
“I know why you volunteered to help me, I know you only fucked me because you had to. I know we both feel like we took advantage of each other even though it was a life or death situation. I want you to know,” She curses the way her voice shakes. “I want you to know that I’m okay with it. If you’re questioning my consent, I’m going to tell you now, I want you to do it. You saved my life, and protected the squad. I would have wanted you to do it. But I need you to be straight with me because I can’t take it anymore. I know you don’t like me, you don’t like me being here. I need you to tell me flat out that you don’t want me so I can stop feeling horrible about trying to coerce you into fucking me.”
He stares up at her for a tense moment. She wishes she could read minds, get anything out of him that let her know what he was feeling. But all he gave her was his signature glare, which told her next to nothing other than that he was annoyed by her very existence.
He moves so fast she almost can’t process it. He stands, grabbing her and dragging her up onto the table. His tray clatters to the floor along with his silverware, both of them ignoring it. She’s kneeling on the table, eye to eye with him. His hand is closed around her throat, his breath fanning across her cheek as he leans into her ear. “You don’t know how badly I want to fuck you, little girl.” He hisses. “To bend you over this table, fuck you until you’re begging, then I’ll decide if you get to cum.” He licks the shell of her ear, a quiet whimper leaving her. “I’m not soft.” He warns her. “I’m not gentle. I’ll pick you apart piece by piece until you can’t even speak. I’ll have you thinking about me every time you walk, every time you sit down.” He bites at the skin below her ear, sucking a mark. “I’m not going to be nice to you.”
She gasps as his free hand fondles her ass, squeezing it roughly. “You’re a dick, Crosshair. I wouldn’t expect you to be nice to me.”
He growls, crashing his lips against hers. It’s desperate, rough, so very different from the others. She presses closer to him, his hand sliding into the back of her lounge pants. It was the set she always wore between missions when they had downtime on the Marauder.
They ignore the sound of the door opening, and the disgusted cries of poor Tech.
“Really guys, the table? We all eat there!”
“I fucked her on it last week.” Hunter says, patting Tech’s shoulder as he passes.
Tech gives him a look. “You at least wiped it off, right?”