So my beta reader for the Big Fics is an astrophysicist, right. Who is currently also writing a hard sci-fi novel about the exploration of Phobos (more power to them, I cannot with the physics required for that, best I can do is soft sci-fi/fantasy and that reminds me I should finish that story).
Anyway I was bitching about how hard it is to come up with feasible planets in Star Wars because sometimes you need a new planet from scratch and sometimes you need to know more about a planet than the 'has jungles, is probably a moon technically' than Wookieepedia will give you, and they're like 'oh yeah I can do something about that'.
So they've written (in Matlab but they swear it will run as a .exe as well and I may be conscripted to embed it as a web tool at some point) a star system generator.
You input what you know about the planet (ecosystem, population, sun colour, does it have liquid water, does it have a moon or moons, is it a moon or moons, temperature averages, atmosphere, you get me) and it will give you the... everything else about the star system, in obedience to real-universe physics. And if you input nothing you get a randomly generated star system.
And Iâm like oh I know people who will be into this with a vengeance, and they're not on Tumblr, so this is me seeing who exactly would be keen on, and I cannot stress this enough, a real-physics comprehensive star system generator.
It's still in the debugging phase (last error fixed: every planet wants to have a population of exactly 5000 regardless of other factors, turned out to be a missing equals sign somewhere), but I'm psyched for this and trying to gauge interest for how high a priority 'make this an accessible web tool' needs to be.
Someone made a post about this a while ago but apparently they de-activated so it is possibly lost to the mists of time. Here is what I put together for myself as a writing reference. Image heavy, meta heavy.
Last edit: 2025/08/13
Edits: Replaced garbage text layout with actual ship overhead. Realized the two concept art images face different directions. This likely explains the magical moving jump seats. Also added discussion of a cargo hold. Added discussion of ship dimensions (specifically length). Replaced old guesstimates with numbers from Dawn of Rebellion. Added commentary about the magical seat. Added comment about the belly airlock and updated the floor plan. Added commentary regarding a possible galley based on TBB Sanctuary and the concept art.
I think people under- and over-estimate the Marauder's interior potential. Given its overall size and intended use (transporting about 10-15 troops plus assorted equipment and providing air support in a forward area), there's not much room left for creature comforts.
Except the Batch aren't 10-15 people, they're 5, and the shuttle is referred to as modified numerous times. This leaves plenty of room to make assumptions and freeform. So, as to what we have actual, visual evidence for from episodes and concept art, here is a rudimentary floor plan:
An important point about the two concept art images: they do NOT face the same direction. The top image faces to the aft/back of the ship, i.e. the tailgun. The second image faces to the fore/front of the ship.
Number Key
1: We know this is where the ramp and door are located from War Mantle and Metamorphsis.
2: We know about this upper storage area from Cut and Run
3: The aft of the ship surrounding the tailgun has changed visual from TCW s07e02 and various TBB episodes (see below in the Meta section under 'Quarters').
4: Access to a floor hatch with a narrow, vertical 'airlock' can be seen briefly in Bounty Lost.
The Airlock
With thanks to @megmca for reminding me of this: there's a narrow, belly-hatch airlock. We see it briefly in Bounty Lost, when they attach to the escape pod Omega has commandeered and Wrecker brings her in.
For all of you wondering what airlock-access the ship has, this is it.
The Magically Appearing/Disappearing Seat
In Cut and Run we have this moment with Hunter and Omega, but in most other shots each of these consoles has only one seat (eg. Tech and Echo in prior frames). I think this is actually NOT a magically appearing seat. I think it's the other console seat, because I suspect they can be moved. I base this one this shot from Replacements:
That looks like a seat with a moveable base.
Obviously this is bad design for a ship which is doing barrel rolls and what-not, so I have to assume they're magnetically locked. Even if it is the same seat, in the shots right before that one above, Omega walks up and it's not in that space. So it's almost like the scene was longer and was shortened, and we missed a few frames of her or Hunter unlocking it and moving it over.
Meta Discussions
tl;dr: I think of the Marauder as a small fishing vessel or a van-conversion RV. You can put a lot into a small space if you get creative.
Bathroom
I know the writers have made weird assertions there isn't one and omg they all smell gross from no hygiene but that makes zero sense. Soldiers are constantly under stress, they're getting injured, they need to stay clean when possible or they're going to get sick and die from a systemic infection in short order. Anyone who's glanced in the general direction of military history knows this. You can argue about clone expendibility all you want but the Batch minimally qualify in that regard, being Nala Se's pet project. Can you imagine losing one of them to a staph infection because there's nowhere for them to bust out some no-rinse antimicrobial soap or get their scalp clean? I'm not saying they'll be doing photoshoots in between missions (well maybe Hunter would ) but, come on. (And are you going to tell me Mr. Sensor Sensoria is cool with doing long hauls with 4 people who don't bathe? Just, no.)
But that much aside, anyone who's ever been in an RV, a commercial airliner, or a modest-sized sea vessel knows you can cram a bathroom into a tiny space. Yes, you're going to be spinning in circles doing things, but the benefits of a spot to clean up, manage waste, and tend to injuries far outweigh any other use of that area. So regardless of what the writers say, a transport without a minimal refresher (to use the SW term) is counter to the ship's designed use. It has to be able to accommodate Wrecker, of course, but in the end it can double as storage when not in use. There is zero reason to not have one. Added to this, we now officially have a length for the Marauder, which is 30.3 meters (see below). RVs which are 1/5 of that size have bathrooms. You're going to tell me the Marauder doesn't?
If nothing else, since the TCW episodes and the beginning of S1 have pointed to them going on extended deployments with long hops between stops, they're going to need one or constantly be handling waste in much less efficient and sustainable ways.
Added to all of this, it's specifically called a modified variant of an Omicron. We're probably meant to think this means 'Tech would like to fly faster than the GAR and ship engineers think is reasonable for a shuttle' but IMO it extends to changes like this as well. So, there's a refresher in there, feel free to choose a spot. Right across from the fold out racks is a good candidate because in most imagery it's just weapons storage, and there's an entire upper-deck space which you could use for that.
Galley - updated 2025/08/13
The novel Sanctuary, which is set just after the events of s02e13 Pabu, suggests the Marauder has a galley, as well as places to sit around a table and quarters for Hunter. Regarding the galley, though I'd previously indicated I didn't think there was a space for something like that, in looking over the concept art from the TCW arc I noticed something.
These two areas I've outlined might actually represent storage spaces with roll-up doors. I base this on their visual design, the mention of a galley in the novel, and the fact that amidships on the Marauder is quite narrow. This could be why: if those walls open up, they could easily hold storage, a sink, a small cooktop, even a refresher. Tight fit, but workable.
You can also make an argument the Batch (and all clone units) have cook kits for improvised eating in the field; in the Batch's case I suspect that's a given, as they'd just start doing it because who's going to stop them? Additionally, the sheer amount of rations you would need to carry around to feed Wrecker would be ridiculous. (Remember when Wrecker talks about never being full in S2E13? I feel like this is an indication they did and still do, in fact, have to improvise a lot of additional caloric intake. Hunter probably thought Cut and Suu's farm was a genius idea. 'Grow your own food! Wrecker will never be hungry again! Fucking incredible.' Then Tech got the ship impounded.)
If that's not the original use of these two areas, I think you can argue for one being added, like with the refresher. Otherwise what is this space going to?
Table - added 2025/08/13
TBB Sanctuary suggests the presence of a table for eating at. Although we never see one in the show, it's easy enough to have a stowable table; similar to the mysterious mobile chair, it would be magnetically locked when in use, and pulled down/set aside otherwise. It could be placed between the jump seats.
Quarters - added 2025/08/13
TBB Sanctuary suggests the presence of a room for Hunter. Bearing in mind that on smaller vessels one's 'quarters' amount to not much more than a closet housing a footlocker and a rack to sleep on, you could theoretically argue they did something like this where the gun racks are shown to be in the TCW arc. There's a large capsule shape on the wall which is gone in TBB, making this whole spot look more like it might be the world's least comfortable room.
This doesn't really look like it would work, but I suppose you can argue for it in the 'the Marauder is as big or small as it needs to be' writing perspective.
Beds
As you can see in the concept art above, there are at least 3 racks that fold out from the wall on the port side. They're at a minimum wide enough to accommodate Wrecker, they may also be long enough for him to not need to curl up (unclear because in this shot from Bounty Lost his knees are bent and he's hugging Lula):
Three is a weird number since originally there were four of them. I figure the options here are:
The pilot/copilot/second row seats all look 100% more comfortable than the racks. We actually see Tech sleeping in one, at one point, so this has actual evidence to support it.
It's war time, they're never all asleep simultaneously. Someone is always flying the ship or on watch.
The floor is in effect the same as a rack, arguably preferable as you can't fall off it in the event Something Happens while you're out. So, one of them might actually be ON the floor sometimes.
(Added 2025/08/13) Per TBB Sanctuary, the depth of the access ladder to the tailgun could indicate there are two 'rooms' flanking it, offering some super uncomfortable sleeping arrangements.
They're not really intended to sleep on the ship for extended periods, but narratively we're lead to believe they have, many times, and needed to make adjustments to it as a result. Notice how quickly Wrecker whipped up a bed for Omega? IMO, not the first time they've done something like that--they did it for themselves first.
Cargo Hold
Based on that screenshot of Omega above and the below shot from Cut and Run, the 'hold' of the ship is actually a storage area overhead, running the length of the ship. In that shot above of the rack, there are a series of yellow rungs which imply you can climb up somewhere on the port side. This is probably alternate access to that same overhead storage space.
In Cut and Run we see Echo, Omega, and Tech hide in it, coming back out from a slide-open hatch:
Given Tech's height this is probably somewhere around 1.5m high.
We can be reasonably certain the hold isn't under the ship, or at least storage there is minimal, due to a couple of things:
In all instances where the hyperdrive has been pulled, it's under the ship on the belly, and takes up a reasonable amount of space. Eg., in Retrieval, here's a bunch of stuff which has been pulled from the ship:
In instances where they're working on the ship from the outside, like in Cornered, the sides and belly never have panels open which contain empty space unless the ship's hardware have been removed to reach something:
So, the cargo hold is probably that space on the top from Cut and Run. It doesn't have much room; reasonably speaking, the area with the weapons and sleeping racks was probably a cargo hold as well, they just converted it to a more general purpose area. (So IMO this is a stronger argument for putting a commercial airliner-style bathroom in place of the weapons racks, particularly once they bail on the Empire.)
Dimensions - updated 11/3/23
Dawn of Rebellion has a Bad Batch section, and indicates the Marauder is 30.3m in length, 36.65m wide (presumably with the wings extended, and 12.41m tall (this probably includes the central stabilizer).
I will edit this to update it as we get more pictures. Since the toys that I know of have no basis the show from an internal perspective I didn't include anything from them.
âIâd be lying if I said I didn't volunteer for this moment.â Maeve said quietly as she peeled her stare from the clones and looked out over her home. âItâs not often we get new visitors. Their first moments remind me of my own. I try to relive it vicariously through others.â
Her soft expression met Omegaâs wild one. âI was about your age when I arrived. Still, there isnât really getting used to it.â
âYou werenât born here?â Omega questioned, looking back to the village to watch a group of children joyfully running down the sandy trail that led to the lake.
âNo, I was not. Parahdee is a refuge planet. Itâs the nativeâs culture to rescue lost souls. Theyâve done such a good job, in fact, that the native population is greatly outnumbered by non-native citizens.â
âFascinating.â Tech mutters, ignoring the twitch in his hand that begged him to document everything onto his datapad just so he could drink in the sight for as long as possible.
Silence fell over everyone again. It wasnât until a sniffle caught their attention that they looked away and behind. Echo quickly put his helmet back on.
âAre you crying?â Wrecker gasped in disbelief, trying not to laugh.
âNo,â Echo miserably attempted to assure. âI just got some sand in my eye.â
Maeve stepped back to rest a hand on his right arm. âItâs a completely normal reaction. Itâs said this platform was three inches taller when it was first built. Tears eroded this entrance.â
Her hand gracefully slid from his arm as she began leading everyone to the stone bridge off to the left. Through Echoâs tears he hardly noticed the large palace just a short walk away. The village itself was a sight, and the palace even more grand. Everyone followed loosely. Nobody was in a hurry to leave the outdoors, yet curiosity beckoned them onward.
âIt is Parahdeesian culture that visitors do not discuss business matters until well rested and fed,â Maeve glanced over her shoulder to watch as everyone put their helmets back on.
Without needing to break stride, her entourage opened a set of large doors. Inside, people of different shapes and sizes wandered about. Some stray up the stairs, others down halls. Nobody seems rushed.
âRooms have been prepared for each of you. They are close in proximity to each other.â Maeve paused her well-practiced phrasing to bow her head at a man that approached with a small, wooden box.
The group slowly came to stop in order to witness Maeveâs reach inside, pulling out a key. She held it out to Hunter. Hunter extended, allowing her to drop it into his palm before balling his hand into a fist. She plucked key after key until each of them was given one, kneeling down to Omega on the childâs turn to accept.
âSafety is not a concern, but as you may imagine, many refugees have a hard time adjusting to that sentiment,â Maeve said as she began leading everyone to the grand staircase.
Omega and Wrecker look up to gawk at the giant chandelier that hung over them. Confusion flooded over the rest quickly. Theyâre staying here? In the palace? And not in some tucked away area, either. Maeve began to lead them around the balcony that overlooked the main floor, then ushered them down a hall.
âEach room has a washroom attached, along with respectable amenities. There is also cooling. The heat and humidity isnât always pleasant to some from more cold origins.â Maeve hummed as she opened a door to her side.
The door swung open to reveal a generously sized room, completed with a small seating area near a window that overlooked the jungle. A large canopy bed was placed to the right, with intricate stained glass lamps placed on end tables at either side. The room had everything they could need, including a desk and bookcase that was lightly filled with holobooks and a few boxes.
Exhaustion slammed into Hunter like a giant wave from the comfortable sight. It wasnât until he had to shake it off that he realized he had felt drunk off the entire situation. Perhaps it was all in his head, but he suddenly began to feel anxious.
âI understand your culture requires us to rest before business, would it be rude to ask otherwise?â Hunter says sternly after clearing his throat.
Maeve looked to Hunterâs helmet, studying it in an attempt to read his expression. However, though his
unfaltering stance despite Wreckerâs whine, it was clear he was serious. She relaxed her posture and turned to him fully, smiling softly.
âIt would not be disrespectful. But, like I said before, your caller isnât exactly free at the moment. Do you feel itâs urgent?â Maeve tilted her head as she spoke, folding her hands at her front again.
âForgive us.â Tech pushes in an attempt to help Hunter. âItâs unusual for us to rest before business-â
âWe insist.â Hunter finishes.
âI understand,â Maeve smiled. âAllow me to direct you to each of your rooms first, then Iâll see about getting you that meeting as quickly as possible.â
- -
Hunter paced at the window of his room, glancing at the large bed that begged to be slept on. He paused to stare, wondering if Omega would be able to handle sleeping all alone in such a big room. None of them have ever had their own room before. Cid said this job could take weeks. Could all of them even handle being that separate for that long? Relief quickly overcame him at the sound of Wreckerâs muffled voice behind the door to his room, followed by a pounding. Hurriedly, he made his way to it.
âWhat is it?â
âYou need to check this out!â Wrecker gleefully leapt into the room, ignoring how he had nearly knocked Hunter down.
He turned to face Hunter, revealing an object tucked under one of his arms. âSmell this!â
âI can.â Hunter muttered as he closed the door, staring at the bar of soap Wrecker proudly presented. It smelled like fruit.
âIt doesnât taste as good as it smells!â Wrecker laughed as he dropped the bars on the desk near the door. âIâm taking as much as I can when we get out of here. I canât believe theyâre just letting us use this for free.â
âIs it free?â Hunter cringed.
âThatâs what Maeve said. When Echo asked how much weâll owe she laughed and said in the most serious way- nothing.â Wrecker sat on the chair at the desk, swiveling.
Hunter clenched his jaw, tongue running over his teeth. âThis doesnât feel right.â
âWhat doesnât?â Wrecker stopped swiveling, all joy quickly dissolving.
Hunter paused at the sight of his brother. Guilt began to sink in. He shouldnât have said anything. Not unless he was certain.
âNothing,â he muttered softly. âSorry, Wreck. I just donât think I can relax until we know why weâre here.â
âAwe,â Wrecker gushed as he stood and slapped a firm hand on Hunterâs shoulder, giving him a loving nudge. âNeither can Echo. Tell you what, letâs go find this caller of ours ourselves.â
Hunter slowly nodded. Maeve did say they were allowed to roam about as they pleased, though it would have been more efficient to stay in one place for Maeve to locate them again. He picked up his Helmet and put it on as Wrecker began his exit out the room.
âIâll check on Omega,â Hunter said after a sigh, giving Wrecker a nod, then parting separate ways down the same hall.
His was only a door away from Omegaâs room. Hunter knocked softly, pausing for an answer. A quiet call of her name still didnât earn a response. The anxiety bubbles through him again. Where was she? Did she wander out and get lost? Was she taken? Separate bedrooms werenât a good idea. He carefully tested the doorknob. Of course, she hadnât locked it. He wasnât sure if he should be relieved or worried about that. Hunter leaned inside, whispering out for the child as he scanned the room . His eyes fixated on a bundle of blankets and pillows on the bed.
Stepping into the room, he made his way to the bedside, shoulders lowered at the sight before him. Omega was tangled in the puffy blankets, softly snoring as she held Lula close to her chest. She was fully relaxed, smiling a little even. She must have been absolutely exhausted. After watching for a few moments, he began reaching to move a strand of hair from her face, but his hand quickly returned to his side at the sound of familiar footsteps outside of the room. Hunter made his way back to the door, gently closing it behind him as Echo, Tech, and Wrecker approached with helmets on.
âLetâs go. Iâm getting antsy,â Echo muttered, earning an agreeing sigh from Hunter.
âThey had holobooks on the history of Parahdee just ready in the room,â Tech said, completely impressed as they began their way back toward the staircase.
âYeah, and not-so-tasty soap!â Wrecker laughed.
âSoap is never a desirable flavor.â Tech looked to Wrecker, dropping the enthusiasm. âThe basic pH level of lye triggers a bitter taste on the tongue-â
âOh!â Maeve clapped her hands together as she skipped the last step to the top of the staircase, stopping the group of men from going any further. âI was just making my way to you.â
âAs were we,â Hunter slowed with crossed arms.
âI would recommend waiting on that meeting,â Maeve begins, pressing her hands together at her chest.
âListen,â Echo sighs. âWe would love more than anything to relax right now, but until we get a slight rundown on why weâre here in the first place it just isnât going to happen.â
Maeve nodded and pressed her lips together, forming a straight line as she weighed Echoâs words. âVery well, follow me.â
Maeve led the men away from the staircase to a door just down the opposite hall. She paused, holding up a hand.
âPlease, allow me to warn herâŠâ she mumbled softly and disappeared behind the door, careful not to reveal whatâs inside.
Several minutes passed before the door opened again, wider this time. Maeve held it open and waving a hand. Under his helmet, Hunterâs eyebrow raised. There was something at the corner of Maeveâs lips: a small smirk.
âYou may enter.â
Hunter glanced at the others before slowly stepping in. Instantly, his senses were overcome with a heavy perfume of earthy sweetness. He thought it was hot before stepping in that room. He was wrong. His visor began to fog, and he instinctively reached to wipe it so he could have clear vision.
âLook, ladies,â a womanâs voice sings from across the room. âMy guests couldnât wait to meet me.â
At once, the brothers come to a halt, realizing what room they had entered. A womanâs washroom. Just a few feet away, a medium sized pool of steaming water rested. There were a few women sitting at the sides, positioned to hide their bodies under the milky water. Flowers were sprinkled on the surface, moving with the light waves the woman created as they all giggled. Their gaze quickly fixated on the tile floor - shame, embarrassment, and guilt gripping them.
âSorry-â Hunter began, face hot.
âOh, itâs okay. Iâm sorry for teasing.â The earlier voice laughed. âYou donât have to be shy, everyone is decent.â
Hesitantly, the four of them searched for the source of the obviously smiling voice. She was right. There was no way to see anything through the water, and the women who werenât in the water were all wearing robes or towels. A small group of women sat at a large window, sharing puffs from a hookah. Below them, a woman with long golden hair sat in the water, perfectly parallel to the clones. Two robed women brushed the locks of her hair, stopping when she raised a hand and waved gently to signal them to stop.
âMay I ask whatâs so urgent?â She hummed.
There was a long pause before any of the clones spoke, most of them too distracted at the sight before them. They were grateful for their helmets. Finally, Hunter cleared his throat, but when he still couldnât find the right words, another giggle from the women surrounding them bounced off the walls.
The blonde woman lightly splashes at the group of girls near her. âKnock it off. Please forgive my friends. Itâs not often weâre blessed with men in uniform. Iâm going to stand now. I donât mind if you look.â
Thankful for the warning, Echo averted his gaze down again. It felt like the most respectful action to take. However, the others held their stare. It was rare they got to see a naked woman. And, if one is consenting, it would be foolish to reject. Especially if that woman has the appearance of a goddess. Tastefully, they would argue, they admired the way the water slid over her breasts. When she turned to reveal her backside and stepped out of the hot pool, Wreckerâs knees began to buckle, and if it werenât for Echoâs stare at everyone's feet so he could gently kick at his ankle, he might have toppled over.
With the help of the two women that were brushing her hair, she slid on a thin white robe. A hair pin was handed to her, and as she slowly approached the men, she wrapped her hair up. Quiet conversation resumed amongst the women, allowing for a more private introduction between the five of them. The closer she got. the more the clones realized the robe wasnât just thin, but sheer.
âWell, what do you think, boys? I showed you mine, you show me yours?â She smirked up at them then giggled at the beat of silence. âJust the helmets will do for me.â
Hunter's heart began to pound in his chest, and he slowly reached to remove his helmet, tucking it between his arm and his hip. Maybe she wouldnât notice how red in the face he was, or at least chalk it up to the heat. He glanced at the others as they removed their helmets as well. Wrecker stifled a laugh in reaction to his brothersâ faces. Hunter quickly looked down to the woman, praying she didnât notice the laugh or think itâs directed at her.
If the woman did notice the snigger, it didnât seem to bother her. She brought her arms to cover her chest and nibbled at her knuckle with pearly white teeth, eyes glimmering with a mixture of hunger and awe.
âWow,â she breathed, taking another breath to compose herself. âNow, donât tell me.â
Her gaze fixated on Hunter. She stepped back to take him in from head to toe. âYouâre Hunter,â she trails, beginning to slowly circle him, inspecting every nook and cranny of his armor she possibly could with just her eyes, pausing just inches in front of him.
Hunterâs eyes met hers for the first time. As discreetly as possible he sucked in a sharp breath through his nostrils, holding it when she reached to caress his face. It took every soldier's instinct in him not to melt into her soft touch, and it was impossible not to stare back into her piercing grey eyes. He was shamefully disappointed when their eye contact broke so she could study his face tattoo, goosebumps returning at the feeling of her lightly tracing the shape of it with her dainty fingertip.
âExtraordinary tracking skills,â she listed with a hum as she slowly pulled her hand away from him, unaware of the slight forward lean Hunter uncontrollably made toward her when her attention moved onto Echo.
âEcho,â she purred out, stepping closer to him.
Echo kept his stare at the floor, studying the detail of the tiles beneath them. She smiled warmly, crossing her arms back over her chest as she bent forward and tilted her head to block his view of the intricate mosaic.
âHi,â she chirped with a smile, eyes meeting his.
Echo couldnât fight it, lifting his head to follow her eyes as if in a trance. He ignored the fluttering in his stomach and decided to shift his concentration at keeping proper posture. His lips parted at her giggle, taking in a shallow breath.
âYou specialize in infiltration and cybernetic data. You werenât an original member of clone force 99,â she said softly as she reached to gently caress his chin, tilting his head to the side in order to study his cybernetic implants. âThough, Iâd say theyâre quite lucky to have you now.â
Echo swallowed at the way she gently bit her lower lip, catching a sorrowful glint in her gaze. Normally, a woman looking at this part of him so closely would make him feel insecure, but the way her touch lingered on his chin a moment longer than necessary to fix his tilt strangely comforted him. She took a beat longer to move onto Wrecker than she did from Hunter to Echo.
âAnd you,â she giggled, placing a hand on Wreckerâs chest plate, giving him a gentle push.
Wrecker swayed back an inch, exaggerating her strength and allowing a small laugh to bubble from his stomach. His uncontrollable grin earned a cheeky crinkle of the womanâs nose. She pointed up at him.
âYouâre wrecker,â she sang, wagging her finger at him with an equally uncontrollable smile and laugh, âthe muscle, clearly, specializing in...â
She tapped her chin in thought, taking her time to circle him as well. Her free hand snakes under his bicep, giggling when he exaggerates her strength again, creating an illusion that his arm is light as a feather, then allowing gravity to drop his arm.
âHeavy weapons and demolition.â She grinned proudly up at Wrecker.
âThatâs me!â He chuckled out, crossing his arms over his chest.
The womanâs giggling faded to a finish when she looked at Tech, eyebrows raising when she found him already seeking out eye contact. She takes a large step to be parallel with him, shivering out the giggles she experienced moments before. Her tongue slightly brushed over her lips to relax her smile, bowing politely.
âTech,â she greets him.
âHello,â he answered calmly, unsurprised she was able to guess who he was. It was a simple process of elimination.
âHi,â she said softly, testing the waters by taking a slight step forward.
Tech shifted, unsure what to do with the sudden closeness, but relaxed quickly. She was nonthreatening enough. He averted his gaze from her eyes, looking forward to the haze formed by the girls sharing the hookah. He swallowed dryly when her face leaned close to his, her minty breath cooling his ear as she examined the details of his goggles. He shuddered when she pulled away, gaze meeting hers again.
âExtraordinarily intelligent, specializing in data analysis, slicing security systems, translation, and technological repairs.â She listed, smiling warmly as she stepped back to view the four of them. There was a short moment of silence as she eyed each of them, then frowned. âOne of you is missing.â
âHave we met?â Hunterâs brows stitched together as he questioned.
âI think we would have remembered that,â Wrecker sidebared.
âIâve done my research,â she folded her hands in front of her. âForgive me. My name is Rivqah; specializing in political and social sciences.â
A/N: Genuinely wondering what was wrong with me when I first wrote this chapter because, GIRL, FIND YOUR VERB TENSE. Most of these earlier chapter were written in a complete rush because I just needed to get the ideas down and out of my head. I think I got better as I wrote more but donât trust me lmao
Tag list: @redheadrenaissance @the-jedi-jamboree
Special thanks to @ech0e for these beautiful separators!
I was interested in the first chap but that second one got me hooked. I know I am going to religiously read every chapter. This is so amazingly written, the pace, the descriptions, I love it all. The premise is very interesting, but like Hunter, I feel like its too good. Very unsettling when you're a soldier used to seeing the bad side everywhere. And when you're a writer who lives writing angst. I see the angst potential here and I'm on my toes.
Looking forward for what happens next! I'd love to join the taglist if possible (please), otherwise I'll just keep an eye out đ
Reader x Crosshair. Reader is very sensitive and doesn't take Crosshair's jabs well, even though she tries to hide it bc she rationally knows Crosshair is like that with everyone and it's not that deep. Meanwhile Crosshair is unaware until he finds her crying at night. Then some soft!Crosshair and hurt/comfort with a confession
wounds
crosshair x fem reader
summary: secret softie crosshair regrets being mean to you
warnings: some hurtcomfort
a/n: so like let's ignore the fact that hunter probably heard this whole interaction and chose to keep his peace. sensitive girlies, professional criers please RISE.
crosshair doesn't mean to be so cruel. the others have a much easier time brushing off his quiet, sarcastic hostility as he snickers under his breath at the clear disconnect between what he thinks is comical and what you think is normal. your heart twists in encroaching agony every time you feel like you've done something wrongâlike you've fucked up and he's always there to catch you in a mockery. his words, his looks, his wounds all tear through your skin, constantly bubbling up until one night, you can't swallow it down anymore. you feel like you'll choke otherwise.
you wipe your tears furiously as the knocking against the door gets more impatient. your reflection is red and tear-streaked, yet another embarrassment you accept that crosshair will have a field day out of. he stands outside the tiny refresher shared amongst the six of you with his arms folded across his chest, clearly unimpressed at how long you holed yourself up in there. you cast your head down, hoping to escape this moment just like you wish to disappear from his scrutiny.
"sorry, it's all yours," you whisper hoarsely. you wince, deciding it's better not to speak.
crosshair scoffs through a yawn. "go to bed."
you nod, avoiding his gaze that seems to pierce right through you. you hurry back to your bunk, not knowing that crosshair lingers outside the refresher, still looking in your direction. an uncomfortable knot settles in his gut, intuitively indicative of something he can't quite put his finger on. he can tell you're acting off, though. he knows you well enoughâperhaps more than he likes to admit.
the marauder is dark and silent, other than wrecker's snoring from a few bunks over. you hear crosshair come back, his footsteps light and nimble like a cat. but instead of sinking back down into his warm blankets, he sits at the foot of your mattress and glances down at the cocoon you've wrapped yourself up in to hide your face.
you hold your breath. he sighs, the sound thin and exasperated. "i know you're awake," he says tersely.
"am not," you reply, your voice muffled under the covers.
he raises an eyebrow while the corner of his mouth twitches in amusement. his long, careful fingers find your ankle and wrap around it, tugging slightly. your breath hitches in surprise, and you try to wiggle out of his grip. it's a childish attempt, but it leaves both of you trying not to laugh as the others try to sleep peacefully for once.
"crosshair, let go." you pause. "i'll kick you. i'm serious."
he squeezes your ankle playfully. "i'd like to see you try."
you groan under your breath. "crosshair, please..."
he's quiet. not unlikely for him, but you feel the silence suddenly weigh on this conversation. his voice is oddly gentle when he says, "look at me."
his fingers loosen around your ankle like a truce. you swallow hard, wondering if he's caught onto you. your blankets fall away from your figure as you sit up, letting your eyes adjust to the darkness. he's nothing but a tall shadow at the end of your bunk at first.
"it's too dark to see anything," you mumble, lying back down on your side, "you can call me ugly in the morning."
crosshair stills. his enhanced vision allows him to see you better than you can see him, but he's not sure what stops his heart moreâthe sight of your swollen, puffy eyes, or your words.
"and why would i do that?"
you close your eyes. "forget it. i'm sorry."
you feel the bunk dip under his weight as he shifts closer, slow like he's almost...scared. you nearly jump out of your skin when his fingertips brush the skin under your eyes, where some tears still slip through, cascading down your cheeksâthe ones he's thought about kissing more times than he can count.
"i fucked up," he mutters, "didn't i."
you take a shaky breath and try to shake your head. "mm-mm. it's not youâit's just meâi'm..." your tears drown out your words in a surge, and you press your face into your pillow to stop yourself from making a sound. crosshair's hand smoothes over the top of your head, gently threading through your hair as guilt tangles with the knot inside of his stomach.
"bullshit," he says quietly. "it's never you."
you rub your eyes and look at him. "huh?" you whimper. this time, it's his turn to avoid your gaze. he sucks his teeth and shakes his head, hanging it low. his hand slides down from your hair to to your face, where he cups your cheek and slowly swipes away some stray tears. your eyes widen at how soft his touch feels, how his skin warms yours despite having the coldest heart you know.
"my brothers are gonna skin me alive if they find out i made you cry," crosshair murmurs.
you can't help but smile at this remark. "yeah, well, your brothers actually like me."
"who says i don't like you?"
you scoff incredulously as he draws his hand away to adjust the blankets over your shoulders. "oh, come on, you hate my guts."
crosshair tilts his head to the side a bit. "and this upsets you."
"i'm not upset."
he stares at you before nodding. "right," he says slowly, his familiar sarcasm dripping from his tongue.
you pull your blankets up to your chin with a hurt frown. "i just...i feel like you're always mad. at me."
"i'm an ass. it has nothing to do with you."
you can't help but laugh at how bluntly he says this. "so you admit it."
"hm?"
"that you're an ass."
crosshair squeezes your shoulder. "don't tell the others."
you laugh again, realizing he has a more playful side than you gave him credit for. he brings a finger to your lips as if he's shushing you, and you remember to keep quiet. your eyes lock, and both of your gazes seem to crinkle into knowing smiles, but his still feels heavy with regret.
"i won't," you whisper, reaching up to wrap your pinky finger around his. "it's our little secret."
he exhales a quiet chuckle. "good." his eyes soften, and he just looks at you for a moment before he speaks again. "i never meant to hurt you."
you bring your locked pinkies close to your chest. "i know," you tell him.
his lips part like he wants to say something else, but his words get stuck in his throat. quiet is usually his comfort, his natural state of being when conversations fail to interest him. only now, he wishes he could come up with something moreâsomething better. perhaps the sweet things wrecker might've said, or the honest truths tech could've suggested. the right words hunter would've known to use, or the apology echo would've given despite his pride. crosshair finds it all to be so foreign, like a language he doesn't yet speak. but that doesn't mean he can't try, in his own way.
he leans down and brushes his lips against your forehead. the kiss lingers before he pulls back, silently stretching out of your bunk to disappear into the refresher. your eyes flutter closed, thinking that's the end of this moment, as you hear some water running. he proves you wrong when you feel a cold, wet towel drape over your eyes to help with the swelling. his thin fingers gingerly press down, touching you so delicately it's like he's worried he'll break you all over again.
"i'm okay," you whisper, "just go to sleep..."
"you first," he whispers back.
you sigh and reach for him, lacing your fingers around his free hand. he startles a bit, but tries not to show it. "thanks, crosshair."
he shakes his head even though you can't see. you slowly slide further back into sleep as he applies this cold compress to your eyes, hoping to calm the irritation that's to come from your tears. he stays wide awake, paying close attention to your soft breathing slipping through your slightly parted lips. he thinks you can't hear him when he speaks quietly, under his breath.
"i know that i'll never deserve you," he chuckles drily and shakes his head.
"but i'd be fucking crazy not to want you."
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Synopsis: With the emergence of highly intelligent and evolved kaiju, Hoshina has his hands full after being tasked with heading a newly formed investigative unit.
Complex and twisted as these cases turn out to be, your role as the teamâs assigned forensic analyst is a crucial one ⊠along with concealing your growing infatuation with the charming Vice Captain under a polished and professional exterior.
Contents: Mystery, investigation, suspense, romance, humour, fluff, canon-typical violence, possible depictions of sex, multi-part.
Dividers by: @uzmacchiato
Part 7 (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6)
The glass-fronted town hall, with its rock gardens and careful caretaking, seemed to be a point of pride to the citizens.
As they pulled up in the large parking lot, Reno was glad to see that Superintendent Kitagawa had cordoned off a parking space for them close to the entrance, as the place was filling up at a decent rate.
Stepping out of the vehicle, Reno took a moment to shake off the discomfort from the weighted stares they were receiving. It wasnât that they were hostile (at least, not yet), but this was certainly different from what he was accustomed to.
As an officer of the JAKDF, there was a quality of unquestionable authority that the uniform gave, the unspoken knowledge that one was qualified to kill kaiju, and that this was what one would do best, with no opposition.
Roadways were cleared, civilians stowed safely away in shelters, the shattered architecture of the cityscape an open battlefield on which to take down the foe.
He was beginning to see the inherent privilege that came with such a job, one that was often ignored in the face of how dangerous each mission was. Here, there was no such wall of assumed anonymity, and the crowd waiting for them was undeterred in the absence of gas masks rendering one faceless, or the most powerful weapons and tech their suppliers had to offer.
He chanced a glance sideways at his companions.
Kafka looked as ill at ease as he did, a little more transparently so. That didnât stop him from turning to give Reno a wide grin, and a thumbs-up, even as sweat dampened his hairline.
Smiling slightly in return, Reno followed the others into the cool interior of the hall, where a table and podium had been set up, press conference-style, on the raised stage across one wall. Â
This was obviously where they were to be situated, and he adjusted the collar of his pale blue button up shirt as the lights cast their team in a bright glow.Â
Blinking once, twice, he allowed his eyes to adjust, scanning the hall carefully as the crowd outside filtered in and took their seats, the hum of voices mingling with the occasional raised clarity of a greeting or laugh.
The front rows consisted mostly of the older residents, given first preference in seating out of deference to their age, or affluence perhaps. There were certainly some well-dressed citizens present.
Behind them, the younger cohort of the townsfolk. Here he could see some familiar sentiments, in the brighter gazes, hissed whispers and blatant pointing, unusual for a formal setting, but considering the fact that the majority of the KIU had been in the papers and all over the internet for the past few months, it was hardly surprising.
Reno didnât doubt that they might receive some questions entirely unrelated to their investigation.
The group that gradually arrested his attention, though, was located close to the entryway, never moving further in beyond the glass doors. A motley crew they were, of seemingly all ages and occupations, but there seemed to be one man who they gravitated around, muttering close-lipped speculation to him, and to each other.
Even though he didnât have much experience in such settings, Reno could sniff out the brand of âtroublemakerâ as well as anyone who cared to observe closely.
Turning his head, he caught Hoshinaâs eye.
The Vice-Captain had maintained his signature, inscrutably pleasant smile, and this didnât falter, even as a flash of guileful awareness passed over his gaze, and he gave Reno a small nod.
So, he had seen it too.
The thought gave Reno a small boost of confidence, and he continued to scan the hall, allowing his glance to pass evenly over the crowd, even as he paid closer attention to the group milling about the entrance.
Superintendent Kitagawa stepped forward to the podium, after giving each of them a brief, firm handshake.
âGreetings to all present. If weâd all take our seats, we can begin todayâs proceedings.â
Even though there were empty seats available, the group at the back of the hall remained mutinously standing, arms folded, appearing as a solid front.
Kitagawa ignored them with the air of one accustomed to dealing with such, easing into the agenda of the meeting and introducing each member of the KIU.
Eventually he stood aside for Hoshina, and another round of murmurs went around the hall. Some even sat closer to the edge of their seats to get a better view.
Hoshinaâs greeting was even, his voice confident and melodious, the distinctive Kansai accent lending a personable tone as always. Reno did note that behind the easy charm, he made no effort to disguise the steely, military inflection, the clipped edge of each sentence that never failed to straighten the spine of any officer who heard it.
By his voice alone, Hoshina was laying the foundation for their future interactions with civilians; polite, helpful and competent, all while maintaining a firm boundary of professionalism that should only be crossed at their own peril.
Wondering if that would be enough to deter the potential rabble-rousers, Reno brought his attention back to the Vice-Captainâs speech.
â⊠intentions here are purely for public interest. The KIU is a newly formed unit, as Iâm sure youâre all aware, but our officers have more than distinguished themselves in our ongoing fight against kaiju. Weâre here to ensure that any potential threat is thoroughly analysed and dealt with. We hope that we have your full co-operation throughout our investigation.â
Kitagawa cleared his throat and stepped forward once more.
âThank you, Vice-Captain Hoshina. Iâll now open up the floor for any community concerns and questions.â
As expected, it took a while for any in the audience to speak up. Most were discussing amongst each other, slowly gaining the momentum to ask what they needed to.
Hoshinaâs clear directive and self-assured style had obviously had the intended effect.
Reno kept his eye trained on the suspect group at the back as the first few hands in the audience began to raise.
The questions that came at first spoke to the heart of the issues troubling the community. One bespectacled man, who had arrived with his wife and young daughter, asked what many had evidently been wondering.
âVice-Captain, just how worried should we be? Since the two incidents six months ago, there hasnât been anything else. Is it possible that whatever has done this has left the area?â
âItâs entirely possible. The fact remains that the murders occurred in this area, and no clear answer has been reached. Weâll continue our operations here until that time.â
âIf you do clear the town, does this mean that the mine might re-open?â
âThat can only be established by Hasegawa Inc. It is not within the rights of the JAKDF or the KIU to speak on their behalf. I can say, however, that no further mining operations can occur as long as this investigation is ongoing.â
Glancing around, Reno took a moment to marvel at how easily and innocuously Hoshina had laid his trap.
On the one hand, all citizens should want an end to the investigation to restore peace and to continue living in the ideal of safety. It also would cast any who impeded the investigation in a poor light, even if they claimed to want an end to the mining operation.
It would, more importantly, give Hoshina the grounds to investigate those individuals should he deem them suspicious enough.
Finally, after a round of queries that Hoshina fielded with ease, one echoed over from the back of the hall.
âIsnât Hasegawa Inc. affiliated with Izumo Tech?â
Heads turned, whispers relayed in hushed anonymity.
Hoshina nodded amiably.
âThatâs true.â
The speaker stepped forward from the crowd, obviously unafraid of exposing himself.
Reno made out an elderly man, features wizened by the outdoors, face half-shaded by a flat cap. The greying hair at his temples was neatly trimmed, as was the goatee that adorned his chin. His cheeks were gaunt, eyes red-rimmed and focused on them with a laser-like stare.
âAnd isnât Izumo Tech the main supplier of the JAKDF?â
Again, Hoshina tipped his chin in acknowledgement.
âOf course.â
âSo, itâd be fair to say that youâre here to further your own interests, no? The faster the mines are cleared, the more materials Izumo Tech gets hold of to make you those fancy suits, right?â
More voices swept the hall, and this time, some were raised in protest.
âFor shame!â
âShut up, Usano! Weâve had enough of you!â
âThe suits that keep us safe, you moron!â
Usano sneered in return.
âBrainwashed, the lot of you. You know what kills a town like this faster than a kaiju? Pollution of the water sources. Thatâs all those mines are good for. And now weâre supposed to sit back and watch while these posers march in, waving their big guns around, intimidating us into silence? Well, I wonât be intimidated.â
Even as Reno felt his hackles raise at the belligerent attitude of the man, Hoshina lifted a hand, quelling the tumult that Usano had started.
He spoke into the silence, still pleasantly measured.
âThoseâre all valid concerns. Really, they are. But Iâm gonna have to correct you on one point.â
He raised a cheerful finger of admonishment, one all his officers had learned to fear above any other signal.
âThereâs not much that can kill faster than a kaiju. Unless weâre talkinâ a matter of seconds here. And as for our fancy suits, they wonât save, or bring back the officers who have died in the line oâ duty.â
The reminder was stark, cutting through the hall like one of Hoshinaâs blades, but he didnât stop there.
âMy intention is not to compare one struggle to another. Iâm simply emphasizing that the danger to your town, and the people that live here, is very real if kaiju presence is involved. Our team would like to eliminate that possibility, along with the kaiju, and then move on to where the public requires our services next.â
He tilted his head, and to anyone sitting in the audience, the implicit statement was clear. As personable as Hoshina was, he was not the kind of leader to back down from a challenge, nor would he be cowed from performing his duty by public disfavour or bureaucracy.
More murmuring came from the back of the hall, and Reno watched carefully as the man named Usano took a step back into the ranks of his own unofficial âresistanceâ.
Hoshinaâs words had, once again, laid out a course of action that was not unreasonable to the ears of anyone listening objectively. As all such meetings were matters of public record, Usano and his ilk might only cast themselves in an unfavourable light if they pursued such a protest further.
As Superintendant Kitagawa wrapped up the meeting with clear relief writ on his features, it was evident to Reno that their problems were far from over.
The fact that Usano had allowed for a tactical retreat from a confrontation only meant that his group might interfere with the investigation on other fronts later.
Reno turned to Hoshina, who had stepped back from the podium. Meeting the Vice-Captainâs gaze, he experienced a moment of clarity in terms of the weight that his role as âcommunity liaisonâ carried.
Heâd have to be the one to keep an eye on things here in town, talk to the citizens, walk among them, and keep a finger on the pulse of events. Without that kind of presence, the investigation might meet unnecessary obstacles which might slow everyone down and lose them valuable time.
To a JAKDF officer, whether in the field, or in a new form of unit like this one, time was always of the essence. Â
Straightening, you eased the tension from your back, eyeing the cold cup of coffee at your elbow with distaste.
Time to make a fresh one, but not before â
âAnythinâ new come in?â
The door to the lab swung open and Hoshina strolled in, looking as if heâd just attended a picnic, rather than a tense public hearing.
Granted, one did not don military formal wear to relax on a blanket outdoors, and you couldnât help but admire the way the tailored suit sat on his trim form. Unlike standard uniforms, the gilt badges and epaulettes indicating his position as Vice-Captain looked singularly impressive.
In the hope that you hadnât been staring too long and hard, you cleared your throat.
âIchikawa and Furuhashiâs medical reports are in, but ⊠how did everything go over there?â
He shrugged, a small smile in place, as always.
âAs good as we could have expected, I think. Most folks âround here are just worried about the risk of kaiju activity, but thereâs some who might try to put a spanner in the works, if you catch my drift.â
Frowning, you gestured at the door leading to the outer rooms.
âIâm sure they know our base of operations by now. Should we be worried?â
He grinned and stepped forward, one hand dropping with easy familiarity to the top of your head.
âNow donât you fret about that. One of usâll always be around to make sure youâre safe.â
âSir! Thatâs not what I â â
Embarrassment flooded you as Hoshina doubled over, his laughter clear and ringing.
âOh man, I gotta stop by the lab more often.â
âVice-Captain.â
âFine, fine. Whatâs in those reports?â
Huffing out a put-upon sigh, you swivelled to face the screen of your laptop, pulling up the two medical summaries that youâd spent the better part of the morning analysing.
âSo, from what I see here, Number Nineâs attacks were pretty extreme. It condensed energy in short, high-impact bursts, mimicking the firing of bullets from a rifle. But here is where the issue is.â
You traced out the pathway of the wounds that had laced the torsos of the two young officers, imaged clearly on the attached scans. Hoshina leaned over your shoulder, eyes trained on the screen.
âHmm. Looks like clean exits on all of âem.â
âThatâs because Nineâs energy attacks copied a standard firearm in the truest sense. Unlike the effect of some our own special rounds, it didnât cause explosive force and outward trauma.â
âLike the head wounds on our victims?â
âExactly. I looked it up further, and most kaiju that are able to emit energy attacks like this rely on high frequency vibration of particles within specialised chambers in their bodies. They create a massive amount of energy all at once. Itâs something that Nine honed down to a precise form. Based on that mechanism, though, something like this wouldnât be able to create the kind of wounds found on the victims. If it is a kaiju, itâs evolved some other way to kill.â
âAnd the additional knife marks?â
âLook, this is just a hypothesis sir, but I think that whoever took a knife to the victims was trying to conceal something. Possibly, the way they actually died.â
âIn other words, covering up the method the kaiju might have used to kill them?â Â Â
âRight. Implying that â â
âA human agent found victims of kaiju attacks, and removed vital evidence from the bodies.â
You glanced up briefly, noting the grim set of his jaw.
For an officer like Hoshina, this must have been a first. The idea that one of the people heâd fought so hard to protect could be actively participating in a case like this, as a perpetrator no less, must have been a hard pill to swallow.
Tentatively, you placed a hand on his sleeve.
âWeâll get to the bottom of this, sir. Donât worry.â
He looked down at you, and even as difficult as he was to read at most times, there was an element of surprise in his expression, one that morphed to something softer before he stepped back, gently placing distance between you once more.
âOf course we will. Now, donât let me keep you from your duties.â
You had to wonder at the mental fortitude it took to occupy a position like his. Hoshina was clearly not accustomed to receiving reassurance from someone else, especially a subordinate.
Nodding, you shot him an encouraging smile.
âOn it.â
In the doorway, he paused, fingers tapping out a steady rhythm on the metal frame. You watched him attentively.
âVice-Captain?â
He turned, brow furrowed.
âHey, can you check somethinâ for me? Itâs just ⊠what that guy in the town hall meeting said. Itâs been bugginâ me ever since I heard it. Can you do an analysis of water quality from sources around the town centre? Maybe from the areas surrounding the original mining operation?â
Well, this was an odd request.
Obviously, the earlier meeting had set him on some scent.
âOf course. Iâll identify sites to sample and head out there myself.â
âTake Kafka with you. Youâre not goinâ anywhere alone.â
This time, there was no air of amusement surrounding his statement.
If it hadnât been evident before, it certainly was now. Hoshina took the safety of his team, and by extension, you, with a great deal of gravity.
Haruichi settled into the comfortable chair at his station, taking a sip of the mineral water Reno had brought him earlier. Arms outstretched, he cracked his knuckles, taking some satisfaction from the sound.
His father had always found the habit distasteful. Heâd often reminded Haruichi that hard work didnât have to be announced by pointless gestures.
Since joining the JAKDF, Haruichi had been engaging in such small acts of rebellion more often. Meaningless as they were, they brought him comfort, a reminder of the purpose heâd constructed for himself away from the influence of his family.
Since Kafka had headed out with their new analyst to help collect samples, heâd taken on the task of contacting the former residents of the compound himself.
Accessing one of his saved contacts, he turned the speaker up to maximum volume and placed the phone beside him, using his own high-priority login to access Izumo Techâs employee database.
âSir?â
The voice that answered was a familiar one, bringing a smile to his face.
Sakuchi Endo had been one of the most efficient project managers in weapons development at Izumo Tech. Haruichiâs father had seen fit to appoint him as a mentor of sorts for a few years, in order to teach him the rudiments of the sector heâd someday hoped to hand over. Â Â
âNo need for the formalities, Endo.â
âWell, I â itâs nice to hear from you. Itâs been a while.â
âNo need to sound so surprised.â
âYou havenât called in â â
âSeven months. I know.â
The silence on the other end threatened to grow heavy, and Haruichi sighed.
âLook, you know this new unit Iâm part of?â
âThe KIU?â
Endoâs voice carried an air of pride, in spite of it all.
âYeah. So, weâre working a case that involves Hasegawa Inc. Iâm pulling up the personnel files right now, but I need specific details of the site. Who was allocated housing and which homes they occupied according to the site plan.â
Haruichi could hear the faint sound of Endoâs fingers on the keyboard.
âHmm. Can do. Is this about that kaiju case from a few months back?â
âYeah.â
There was a pause.
âDoes he know? That youâre working on this case, I mean?â
âDad? Nope. He might figure it out sooner or later.â
 âOh, he will.â
Huffing out a short laugh, Haruichi leaned back in his seat.
âHas that ever stopped you from helping a guy out?â
âIt hasnât before, and it wonât now. Iâm too valuable, and he knows it. Anyway, Iâll have the files sent over in a few hours.â
âThanks. Owe you one.â
âAnd Haruichi?â
âHmm?â
âHow is it over there? They treating you well?â
No doubt, this was the fear that most from his former life had harboured when heâd chosen to join the force. It was dangerous work, and gruelling, a far cry from the privilege and power that had been promised to him if heâd followed his fatherâs wishes.
Eyeing the half-empty water bottle on the desk which Reno had absently placed there for him earlier, the haphazard stickers that Kafka had adorned the files with, the formal coat draped neatly over the back of a chair while Hoshina hummed a light tune somewhere nearby, Haruichi grinned.
Ok, I got so excited when this series got updated.
Just like the previous chapters, this one is amazing. You can read how much thought was put into this story by all the events, and -holy shit- how the characters are so in depths. I feel like I'm watching a real tv series. And that would be something I'd watch on repeat btw.
Hoshina's protectiveness of everyone is đ„șđ„șđ„ș And he better get used to people being concerned about him đ
Thank you for your post đđđ You have real talent
A new bad batch project from the one and only leonidas-banana-phone??? I am still reading Reaper's story to this day and I am so excited for whatever you write next!
I went to Anime Boston and this was like the only KN8 merch in the whole con that I could see lmao but of course yall know I HAD to get it, itâs my man. I canât not get it.
I went to my town's AnimeCon and I ran into the same problem. I don't understand the lack of merch for KN8. I did find one thing tho. One. And I had to get it.
I was rolling my eyes at my hubby for wanting a Ghost of Tushima katana (men and their swords), but as soon as I saw the blades, I understood đđ
𫧠Pairings: Crosshair X Female!Reader
𫧠word count: 12.5k (it might be worth it)
plot summary: Tasked to gather intel on a spice shipment, yourself and crosshair find yourself in a luxurious hotel but with only one bed and have to pretend to be married. But after a tense couples meal, you wonder what it would be like to truly be in his arms.
warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY. Fake dating trope, only one bed trope, sub/dom sexual content, explicit language, cunnilingus, blowjob, kissing, neck sucking/biting, spanking, dirty thoughts, dirty talk, praising and teasing, marriage kink, slight possessive sex, soft and rough sex, all consensual, creampie, aftercare, jealous crosshair, brief alcohol mention, reader wears a dress and minimal makeup, implied medium to long hair, minor sexist comment made to reader (not by crosshair), flirting, not proofread, pre order 66 so crosshair is not crossbald x
Anon, this is for you.
You pushed your way through the crowded bar, weaving between patrons with a small smile tugging at your lips. The parcel youâd just dropped off for some locals hadnât paid much, but credits were credits. However, the smile didnât last.
At the far end of the bar, the boys were clustered together in an unusually tight knot â heads tilted in, voices low. The closer you got, the more you caught the hiss of âshh, shhâ.
You stopped in front of them and let your gaze sweep the circle. Hunter avoided eye contact by pretending to adjust the strap on his breast plate. Echo suddenly found his drink fascinating. And Wreckerâs big frame actually shifted behind Tech like he could use him as cover.
âAlright,â you said, planting your hands on your hips. âWhatâs going on?â
They exchanged a silent conversation with just their eyes. Eventually, Hunter straightened, cleared his throat, and said, âWeâve just got word on a potential new job. Good money.â
âGreat.â You nodded slowly, scanning their faces. ââŠIs there a catch?â
Tech pushed his goggles higher on his nose, as if the gesture would somehow make his delivery smoother. âYou will be the one doing the mission.â
You blinked at him. That wasnât exactly unusual. âOkay⊠and what is it?â
Wreckerâs grimace was the first giveaway. Echoâs wince was the second. You knew those expressions â the last time theyâd looked at you like that, they were trying to talk you into playing âhappy wifeâ for some sleaze.
Your hands went up immediately. âNope. Not a chance. I am not pretending to be married to some sleemo again.â
A vivid memory surfaced where it was one of Cidâs old jobs, where the fake husband in question had taken the role far too seriously. Youâd told them you wouldnât ever do something like that again after that, and a few months ago when they tried to pitch you something similar, you laughed in their faces.
âMaybe youâll change your mind with this one?â Hunter offered, a faint smirk at the corner of his mouth.
âDoubt it.â You turned on your heel, but curiosity got the better of you two steps later. ââŠGo on.â
âYouâll be with Crosshair,â Hunter said.
Your gaze slid sideways to where Crosshair was leaning against the bar like the galaxyâs most bored sharpshooter, a toothpick balanced between his teeth. His eyes met yours for half a heartbeat before drifting away again.
You turned back to Hunter. âAs in, heâll be with me while I fake-date some idiot?â
âNot exactly,â Tech corrected, eyes still on his datapad. âYou will be dating Crosshair.â
Your jaw actually dropped. âHuh?â
Hunter took over, laying it out in his steady, matter-of-fact way: a heavily guarded resort on Corellia, a contact who only worked with âregistered guests,â the cover being a couple in a hotel suite.
âSo, will you do it?â Echo asked, leaning on the bar.
âNo,â you said instantly with a scoff. âJust because I know him doesnât mean I want to spend an entire mission holding hands and pretending weâre madly in love. And did you even ask him if heâs okay with this?â
âOh, he already agreed,â Wrecker said with a big grin.
Your head whipped toward Crosshair. âYou what?â
He shrugged one shoulder, unbothered. âAnd hey,â Wrecker then added, âhe cleans up real good.â
âNot the point,â you muttered, dragging a hand down your face.
âItâs good money,â Hunter reminded you, knowing exactly how to push.
You groaned, glaring at each of them in turn. âFine. But if this blows up in our faces, Iâm blaming all of you.â
âAtta girl,â Wrecker said, giving you a pat on the back that nearly sent you into the bar.
The others drifted off to start planning, leaving you and Crosshair alone. He finally pushed off the bar, sauntering past you as he pulled the toothpick from his mouth.
âDonât worry,â he drawled, his voice low and mocking, âIâll be a good husband for you.â
You opened your mouth to shoot back, but heâd already walked away.
This was going to be interesting.
When the Marauder settled down in the landing bay at the location, you and Crosshair stood side by side at the open hatch, bags in hand, both wearing expressions that could curdle milk.
âMaker,â Wrecker said from behind you, grinning in amusement, âYou twoâve got faces like a slapped arse.â
You didnât dignify him with a response as Crosshair just gave him a long, flat look that said Wrecker was lucky they were on a timetable.
The hatch closed behind them and the ship began to lift away, the sound of its engines fading as the Marauder disappeared into the hazy Corellian skyline.
You let out a quiet huff, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. âWell,â you muttered, âguess weâre doing this.â
Without waiting for him, you started up the paved path toward the resort. At least the place was nice. More than nice, actually.
The white stone gleamed in the sun, balconies lined with planters spilling over with flowers in deep reds and golds. There was even an elaborate fountain glittered in the courtyard. It was the kind of place you could almost enjoy if you werenât here to play pretend.
You were halfway up the front steps when Crosshairâs voice stopped you.
âWait.â
You turned just enough to give him a questioning look. âWhat?â
His brown eyes scanned the building like he was sighting a target. âYou remember the plan?â
You rolled your eyes and resumed walking. âYes. Do you?â
âJust making sure.â He replied, his mouth twitching in slight annoyance.
The two of you were⊠sort of friends. He was quiet, moody, and impossible to read, but youâd learned to tolerate him. In his own prickly way, he seemed to tolerate you too.
Crosshair fell into step beside you, lowering his voice as you reached the ornate glass doors. âWeâre here to meet Sabaz Trill. Dinner with him tonight, part of some couplesâ mixer the resort is hosting. You smile, you nod, you make it look like we belong here.â
âAnd tomorrow?â you prompted as he maps out the plan again just for reassurance.
âThatâs when we get the intel on the spice shipment,â he finished. âClean, simple.â
You gave him a side glance. âWith us? Thereâs always drama.â
He snorted faintly but didnât argue. You reached for the buzzer beside the grand glass doors when Crosshairâs hand landed lightly on your upper arm.
âWait.â
You froze mid-reach and turned your head toward him, irritation slipping into your voice. âWhat now? The sooner we do this, the sooner itâs over.â
His eyes flicked past you toward the courtyard. âWe need to act like a couple,â he murmured, his tone low enough not to carry.
You frowned but then followed his gaze. Right. All around you, other guests strolled hand-in-hand or with arms linked, smiling like they were in a holonet romance. Every one of them screamed weâre in love and on vacation. You and Crosshair on the other handâŠ
You bit your lip and nodded. âRight. Okay. UhâŠâ
The pause dragged, the two of you standing stiff as statues. You could probably fake coupledom with someone like Wrecker which would probably be more easy and natural. But Crosshair? Tall, quiet, and perpetually unimpressed? It felt like trying to warm up to a wall.
âShould we hold hands?â he asked finally, rubbing the back of his neck and looking very uncomfortable.
You hesitated. âUh⊠no.â
His gaze dropped, not offended exactly, but definitely unreadable.
Guilt gnaws you, so you quickly held out your travel bag instead. âYou could carry my bag for me, though?â Your smile was a little sheepish, a silent peace offering.
One dark brow arched at you, but then his mouth curved into the faintest smirk. âFine.â
He took the strap from your shoulder in one smooth motion, slinging it over his own like it weighed nothing. Somehow, that small shift of just him holding your belongings made the whole act feel just a little more real.
âBetter?â he asked, the corner of his mouth still twitching upward.
âBetter,â you admitted, trying not to overthink why his smirk made your stomach swirl.
You both walked up to the reception desk, where a young, overly-joyous man practically beamed at you like the sun itself had possessed his face.
You tried to match his enthusiasm with a polite smile. Crosshair, of course, did not. His expression screamed I hate every second of this before the poor man had even spoken.
âHello, and welcome to Under the Hearts Hotel! How can I help you?â the receptionist chimed.
âHi,â you begin, doing your best impression of a cheerful tourist. âWe have a room and meal booked for tonight?â
âPerfect! What name is it under?â
You froze. Right. The names. No one had told you what cover identities you were supposed to use.
For a heartbeat too long, your brain went completely blank. Then, mercifully, Crosshair leaned in ever so slightly: âEres.â
You let out the tiniest breath of relief, glancing at him with a quick, grateful nod. He didnât acknowledge it, eyes fixed on the desk clerk like he was ready to shoot the man for smiling too much.
The receptionistâs fingers tapped away at the monitor, his grin never faltering. Honestly, you were starting to wonder if it was painted on. Then he looked back up, eyes positively sparkling.
âAh yes, here we are! The honeymoon suite â booked and ready for you! Rose petals on the bed and champagne on ice.â
Your mouth opened. Nothing came out.
You turned slowly to Crosshair, who looked equally frozen. Neither of you had been prepared for that particular detail.
The receptionist chuckled lightly at your strained expressions. âOh dear, trouble in paradise already?â
Crosshairâs brow furrowed instantly. âIs that any of your business?â
âCross!â you hissed under your breath, snapping out of your horror long enough to act. Quickly, you slid your arm through his and plastered on a sweet smile, tightening your grip on him â not a reassurance, but a donât you dare warning.
âSorry about him,â you said brightly, practically grinding your teeth through the smile. âWeâve⊠well, weâve been traveling a long way to get here. Just need to put our feet up for a bit. Donât we, my love?â
Your grip on his arm tightened enough to make the point.
Crosshair closed his eyes, jaw tight, then forced the stiffest excuse for a smile youâd ever seen. âYes. Sorry. Long day.â
âOf course, of course,â the receptionist chirped, undeterred. He slid the room fob across the counter, still smiling that terrifyingly wide grin. âNo worries at all. Our jacuzzi baths will wash that stress away in no time!â
You snatched up the fob like it was a lifeline. âWonderful, thank you,â you utter quickly, already tugging Crosshair by the arm toward the lifts before he could open his mouth again.
Once you were safely out of earshot, you released him with an annoyed huff, spinning to face him. âSo much for acting like a couple, Cross.â
He arched an eyebrow at you, unimpressed. âWhat? He asked, I answered.â
You threw your hands up at his lack of care. âFantastic. Just fantastic. At this rate, theyâll kick us out before we even make it to dinner. Great job, husband.â
He smirked then, sharp and smug, clearly enjoying himself now that you were wound up. âRelax, sweetheart. Nobodyâs buying the âhappy coupleâ act if you keep hissing at me like that.â
âOh, donât you startââ you groaned, stomping into the lift as soon as the doors slid open.
Itâs not long until you get to the suite and as the key fob beeped and the door slid open with a smooth hiss, you both stepped inside and instantly froze.
The room looked like something straight out of a holovid romance: soft golden lighting, a massive circular bed in the center draped with pristine white sheets, rose petals scattered across the duvet, and a bucket of champagne on ice by the bedside table.
You blinked once. Twice. â...kriff,â you muttered under your breath.
Crosshair didnât say anything, but you felt the shift beside you. His usual scowl faltered into something halfway between disbelief and annoyance. He let out the faintest exhale, almost like a laugh, before muttering dryly: âSubtle.â
Your eyes landed on the bed again, and your brain screeched to a halt. One bed. Of course it was one bed. It was the honeymoon suite. But at least there was a loveseat just at the end of it.
You didnât point it out. Neither did he. The both of you just stood there, staring at the sheer lavishness of it all, like maybe if you ignored the obvious, itâd disappear.
You tugged at the collar of your shirt, suddenly aware of how warm the room felt. Or maybe that was just you. The whole setupâthe petals, the champagne, the bed that looked entirely too invitingâwas making your skin tinge in the worst possible way. Heat crawled up your neck, and you quickly turned toward the bathroom.
âMaybe Iâll, uh⊠check out the shower,â you said quickly, voice a little higher than intended. âYâknow. Before the dinner.â
Crosshair quirked an eyebrow at you, as if he could hear the nerves bleeding through your tone. He glanced toward the large jacuzzi tub visible just through the bathroomâs frosted glass door and gave a faint snort.
âNot good enough for the roses and bubbles?â
You shot him a look over your shoulder. âIâm thinking cold shower.â
The shower hissed to life, steam curling around the refresher stall as you stepped in. The hot water poured down your shoulders, washing away the travel grime and some of your stress. Eyes closed, you let out a soft sigh and tilted your head back.
But as the room filled with steam, another thought nudged its way in, uninvited. You hadnât locked the door. Crosshair could come in at any moment. And for some reason⊠the idea didnât repulse you.
It intrigued you.
Your pulse spiked at the thought of him stepping through the fog, his sharp eyes narrowing as they trailed over you, water dripping down your skin, steam sticking hair to your face. Would he hesitate? Or would he⊠join you?
You caught yourself sucking in a breath and immediately bow your head under the spray. âGet a grip,â you hissed at yourself, flicking water from your lashes. Maker above, what was wrong with you? Crosshair wasnât someone you ever saw in that light. He was moody, sarcastic, aloof. Hardly your first thought for a lover. And yet⊠now, in this ridiculous hotel room, with only one bed and all the pretending youâd have to doâŠ
No. Stop.
With a sharp twist, you turned the dial colder. The shock of icy water stung your skin, snapping you out of the fantasy as you scrubbed your face. By the time you shut the refresher off, the steamy images were shoved firmly to the back of your mind.
You dried quickly, wrapping yourself in one of the plush white robesâridiculously soft, of course, because this was that kind of placeâand wrung a towel through your damp hair.
When you stepped back into the room, Crosshair was leaning against the balcony railing. His posture was casual, but his eyes were distant, scanning the horizon like he always did. Always watching. Always wary.
âLike the view?â you asked, attempting something lighthearted as you rubbed at your hair.
For a moment, he didnât move. Then he turned his head toward you and stilled.
Not long. Barely a heartbeat. But you caught it: the way his gaze flicked over you in that robe, the way his jaw tensed. It was gone almost immediately, his expression flattening back into its usual disinterest.
âItâs alright,â he muttered, eyes snapping back to the balcony. His voice was just a touch lower, rougher. âWeâll be safe here tonight.â
âI should hope so, if the client booked us,â you chuckled, padding over to the bed and perching on the edge. The mattress dipped under you, petals shifting with a faint rustle. It was ridiculously comfortable.
You tilted your head at him. âBut I bet you brought your sniper anyway. Didnât you?â
Crosshairâs lips twitched at the corner smugly as he moved back inside. Without a word, he crouched by his pack and unzipped it, pulling out the long, gleaming rifle like it was an extension of himself.
You let out a short laugh. âFigures. Romantic suite, rose petals, champagne⊠and youâre cuddling your blaster.â
He glanced up at you with that smirk which again made your stomach swirl. âAt least it doesnât snore.â
You scoffed, tossing the towel at him. He caught it one-handed, but instead of throwing it back, he just set it aside, unbothered. Somehow, that smug little win of his only made your chest feel hotter.
Crosshair disappeared into the refresher with a muttered, âDonât touch my rifle,â which gave you just enough time to get yourself sorted.
The dress slipped smoothly over your skin, the fabric hugging in all the right places without being too much. Knee-length, off the shoulderâsimple, elegant, and just enough to look like you belonged in a place like this. You dried your hair, styled it with a little extra care (because Maker forbid you look out of place next to a table of polished couples), and added a touch of makeup for good measure.
Youâd barely finished adjusting the hem of your dress when Crosshair reappeared. His damp silver hair had been combed back neatly, and heâd traded his blacks for a crisp white shirt and fitted black slacks. And for a second, you forgot yourself.
He stood at the mirror, tugging at his collar and you just couldnât stop your gaze from dragging over him. Simple, understated, but undeniably⊠handsome. You swallowed the thought down and busied yourself with your earrings, pretending you werenât staring.
Then, almost without thinking, your arm slipped through his. The movement was instinctive and you found yourself leaning closer, your shoulder brushing against his as if it had always been that way. He stiffened for a moment, but he didnât pull away.
By the time you reached the dining hall, it was already in motion. A long, polished table stretched across the room, covered in glittering glassware and plates that looked far too pristine to ever eat from. Couples mingled and chatted with easy smiles. You had expected Sabaz Trill. You hadnât expected all of this.
Crosshair leaned down, his voice low in your ear. âDidnât realise weâd be dining with the whole kriffing hotel tonight.â
You gave his arm the faintest squeeze. âSmile and nod. Let me do the talking.â
He shot you a look, dry as bone. âWasnât planning on anything else.â
Together, you approached the table, sliding into your seats that were the only ones available. The schmoozing began almost instantly. Other couples introduce themselves, complimenting your dress and asking about âyour story.â You smiled, laughed, told little fabrications as if youâd been rehearsing them for years. Crosshair played his part the only way he knew how: quiet nods, forced polite smiles. If you're lucky, he will push out the occasional one-word reply.
Then Sabaz Trill himself turned his gaze on you.
âAh, there she is,â he said smoothly, his voice carrying over the chatter. âMy dear, you look radiant tonight.â
Before you could reply, he lifted a bottle and poured wine into your glassâonly yours.
The crimson liquid swirled in the crystal, catching the candlelight as you blinked at him, a polite smile plastered onto your face. Crosshairâs hand tightened almost imperceptibly on his napkin, but his expression didnât change.
You raised the glass lightly in thanks, meeting Sabazâs eyes with the same warmth youâd given everyone else. âYouâre too kind. I should be careful though,â you added with a playful lilt. âA few more of these, and I might embarrass myself in front of the table.â
The other couples chuckled politely. Sabaz didnât. He only smirked, his gaze lingering on you just a beat too long before shifting back to his plate.
Crosshairâs jaw ticked. You felt it more than saw it.
You smiled at Crosshair, soft and sweet and the way a woman in love ought to. But his eyes were elsewhere, distant. It made your chest pinch a little.
Slipping your hand beneath the table, you let your fingers brush his knee before resting there with the lightest pressure. It startled him just slightly, meeting your gaze.
âAre you okay, my stars?â you murmured.
The words left your lips in the same careful tone youâd used all night but this time, it didnât sound like part of the act. Not to him, anyway. For the briefest moment, his chest tightened.
âFine,â he answered steadily. âJust taking it in.â
You didnât believe him, not entirely, but you didnât press. Before you could, the couple seated across from you smiled warmly, drawing you into conversation.
âSo,â the woman leaned forward, âHow did you two meet?â
You let out a little laugh, your hand still ghosting Crosshairâs knee as you launched into the story youâd rehearsed.
âOh, itâs hardly romantic,â you said, feigning modesty. âWe met when I was visiting Coruscant for work. I was lost and asked him for directions. He was polite, but very blunt. I thought he was the rudest man Iâd ever met.â
The table chuckled, and you reached for Crosshairâs hand on the table, lacing your fingers through his.
The woman sighed, clearly enamoured. âThatâs wonderful. Fate has a way of working, doesnât it?â
Her husband, however, leaned back in his chair with a smirk. âAnd have you given him any children yet?â
The question caught you so off guard you awkwardly laughed aloud, shaking your head quickly. âNo⊠not yet. We only recently got married.â
âWell,â the man chuckled, lifting his glass, âgive it time, eh? And I assume you donât have to work, not with a husband like that. He looks like the type who brings home the credits while you get to lounge about. Lucky thing.â
Your jaw ticked, but you forced your expression into one of pleasant neutrality. Beside you, Crosshair set down his knife with deliberate care.
âI donât know about luck,â he begins, his voice calm but carrying an edge sharp enough to slice the air. âShe does more than her share. Iâd be nowhere without her.â
The man faltered, clearly not expecting such a clean rebuttal. Crosshair didnât flinch or waver, just leaned back with the ghost of a smirk tugging his lips.
âIâd suggest you donât underestimate her,â he added smoothly, raising his fork to his mouth. âWouldnât want to embarrass yourself.â
The table chuckled again, but this time the sound was thinner, laced with unease. You, meanwhile, found yourself fighting a different reaction entirely. The sudden, overwhelming urge to drag him back upstairs andâ
Okay, stop.
Leaning in, close enough that your lips just barely brushed the shell of his ear, you whispered, âThank you for that.â
Crosshair didnât so much as twitch, though you felt the faintest tilt of his head toward you, like he was subtly indulging the warmth of your breath. âNo need. Iâm just saying the truth.â
Your chest gave an odd little pull at that, but you covered it with another soft smile as you sat back, reaching for your knife and fork to focus on the meal placed before you. You ate in silence for a few minutes, letting the rich flavours distract you, until Sabazâs voice broke through the murmur of the table.
He leaned slightly closer, lowering his voice. âTomorrow,â he said, âwe can speak of⊠private matters. No need for heavy words tonight. But I trust you understand what I mean.â
His words were subtle enough not to draw suspicion, but clear enough for you to understand. You inclined your head smoothly, lifting the delicate glass of wine to your lips.
âOf course,â you replied. âTomorrow.â
Sabazâs eyes glinted as he watched you drink. âAnd? How does it taste?â
You couldnât hide the small hum of approval as the flavour lingered on your tongue. âItâs⊠honestly the nicest wine Iâve ever had.â
His mouth curved, amused. âIâll take that as a compliment.â
Turning, you nudged your glass toward Crosshair. âWant some?â
He shook his head without hesitation. âNot my thing.â
Sabazâs chuckle was low, a little too warm. âA shame. It suits her, donât you think? Expensive tastesâŠâ
You thought nothing of it, brushing off the remark as idle banter, but Crosshairâs jaw twitched almost imperceptibly. Sabaz was clearly referring to himself and as the meal stretched on,
Sabazâs comments came in trickles. Harmless, on the surface. But Crosshairâs eyes tracked every word and every look.
Finally, after one particularly lingering comment about how âgorgeousâ you looked in the candlelight, Crosshair snapped.
âTell me,â he drawled, tone calm but carrying steel. âDo you flirt with all the women who are married, or just mine?â
The words silenced the table around you. You turned wide-eyed at him, stunned, your knife clinking faintly against your plate.
Sabaz chuckled, leaning back with the relaxed confidence of a man who already knew more than he should. âMarried, are you? Mmm. Perhaps youâd give her more attention.â
Your eyes drop to your half-eaten grub, finding it hard to breathe all of a sudden. You canât have tonight screw up over some⊠some⊠jealousy? Was he?
Crosshair, however, didnât flinch at his words. He leaned back as well, long fingers drumming idly against the table, his gaze cutting through the man opposite him.
âShe has all the attention she needs,â he responds coolly, voice like a blade sliding free of its sheath. âFrom me.â
The way he said it was utterly possessive and you canât help but feel the heat curling low in your stomach.
Sabaz only chuckled again, raising his glass in mock salute before turning the conversation back to lighter topics. But you could feel itâthe tension buzzing under your skin.
You left the dining hall together a little later on, the heavy atmosphere of the meal clinging like smoke. Another couple joined you in the lift, chatty and smiling, and you forced yourself to match their tone, your hand looped neatly through Crosshairâs arm. But the second the lift doors slid shut after the couple exited on their floor, your hand dropped from his arm like it burned.
The silence stretched for a beat before you sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. âWant to tell me what that was about?â
Crosshair didnât look at you, his gaze fixed straight ahead on the liftâs closed doors. His voice was calm, as if nothing had happened. âWhatâs the issue? Weâre still meeting him tomorrow.â
âYeah,â you huffed, sharp and low. âThanks to me. Because I had to apologise to him after the meal for the way you acted.â
Crosshairâs eyes flicked to you then, narrow and unimpressed. âThe way I acted? You didnât notice him? The way he kept looking at you? Talking to you?â His lip curled faintly. âI didnât like it.â
Your jaw tightened, heat pricking the back of your neck. âYou didnât like it? Weâre not actually married, Crosshair.â
The silence that followed was thick, humming with all the unsaid things between you. Crosshairâs expression barely shifted, but his shoulders set, rigid under the crisp fabric of his shirt.
The lift pinged. Doors opened. Neither of you moved at first, locked in that silence. Then you both stepped out, footsteps echoing too loud against the plush carpet of the corridor.
When you got back to the suite, you didnât even glance his way as you made a beeline for your travel bag, pulling out the little bundle of satin nightwear youâd tucked away earlier. Without a word, you slipped into the bathroom and shut the door behind you with a soft click.
You perched on the edge of the jacuzzi bath, hands braced on your knees, and just breathed. Maker, tonight has been⊠a mess.
Crosshair had been jealous, there was no other word for it.
And yet⊠stars above, youâd never found him more attractive than when heâd calmly cut down that other manâs sleazy sexist little jabs at dinner.
It made your thoughts twist in knots. Jealous Crosshair was frustrating. Protective Crosshair was devastatingly sexy.
You rolled your eyes at yourself, muttering something under your breath that this whole place felt like a huge aphrodisiac. Soon you stripped out of the dress, letting it pool on the tiled floor. The satin nightwear slipped over your skin with a soft sigh, the fabric clinging in all the right places. The colour brought out the warmth in your skin, and though you werenât dressing for anyoneâs eyes but your own, you couldnât help but imagine what Crosshair might think if he sawâ
You stopped that train of thought before it could wind you up further.
A splash of cold water on your face dulled the dayâs makeup, you tied your hair up, loosening the strands around your face, and studied your reflection for only a heartbeat before flicking the light off and stepping back into the suite.
Crosshair was sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees, still fully dressed and deep in thought.
âDo you want some caf?â you asked quietly after a moment, nodding toward the sleek caf machine gleaming on the dressing table.
He shook his head, then looked at you. The sight of your satin nightwear hit him like a blow, pupils dilating before he could stop it. His throat bobbed with the faintest swallow as he cursed himself silently and dragged his gaze away.
âYou should get some sleep,â he muttered, voice low.
You tilted your head. âI could say the same thing about you.â
Your bare feet padded across the carpet, rose petals soft beneath your toes and you stood directly in front of him. He looked up, sharp eyes catching yours for a charged moment before closing them.
Crosshair pushed himself to his feet. âIâll take watch.â
You frowned, confusion flickering. âCrosshair, the door is locked. Weâre safe here.â
He didnât meet your eyes, just reached for his rifle and moved toward the small loveseat at the foot of the bed. âYou can never be too sure.â He gestured at the bed with a tilt of his chin. âGet some rest.â
There was so much more you wanted to say, but you swallowed it down. No good would come of pressing him tonight. Not when everything already felt odd.
So you slid into the left side of the bed instead, sinking into the impossibly soft mattress. The sheets smelled faintly of lavender and something warm and expensive. You didnât even bother to remove the rose petals.
The lamp across the room threw a faint amber glow over Crosshair where he sat, long legs stretched out, rifle propped against his thigh. A sentinel in the half-dark, sharp eyes fixed on some distant threat only he could see.
Your body melted into the mattress, the exhaustion of the evening tugging at you like a tide. You watched him for as long as your heavy eyelids would allow, the image of himâsilent, watchful, stubbornâburning behind your eyes until sleep finally dragged you under.
You stirred, rolling onto your other side with a groggy sigh, only to find the chair opposite the bed still occupied. Crosshair sat there like a shadow carved into the half-light, rifle propped against the armrest, a toothpick twiddling absently between long fingers.
Your eyes flicked to the chrono on the wall. Only two hours had passed.
Chewing the inside of your cheek, you tilted your head as you sat up and whispered, just loud enough for him to hear, âCross⊠come get some sleep.â
His eyes lifted, shadows and conflict tangled in his gaze. He shook his head once. âNo⊠I canât.â
You frowned softly, leaning forward. âWhy not?â
The sound he made was halfway between a scoff and a tut, quiet but sharp. His jaw flexed. âI canât sleep in the same bed as you. ItâsâŠâ
Your brows arched. âItâs what?â You pulled the duvet back and shifted onto your knees. The simple movement snagged his attention; his sharp gaze lingered, âItâs just me.â
Crosshair drew in a long breath through his nose, pressing the heel of his hand over his eyes as if that might ground him. âI donât want to bother you,â he muttered, voice rough. âIâve already done that enough tonight.â
For a moment, you said nothing. Then slowly, you crawled toward the foot of the bed, knees sinking into the mattress until you sat back on your heels, steadying yourself.
Your hand extended, palm open, reaching across the small distance between you. âCome to bed.â
His amber eyes locked onto you. He watched you as though weighing a hard decision, gaze running over your face, your hand and the space youâd made for him.
âWe need to act like a couple, right?â You prompt and thatâs when he finally, with the faintest exhale he flicked the toothpick into the bin and rose to his feet.
He crossed the few steps to the bed in silence. He stopped just before you, the mattress dipping faintly under your shift forward.
Your lips parted, breath caught, as you tipped your chin up to look at him. He loomed above, gaze tilted down, unreadable except for the faint storm flickering beneath.
You straightened, sitting taller on your knees, and without hesitation placed both hands flat against his chest. The warmth beneath the fabric hit you instantly, as did the hammer of his heart pounding against his ribcage. It made a small smile tug at your lips, your eyes softening as you whispered, âYou canât sleep in this shirtâŠâ
His breath caught with an imperceptible hitch.
Your fingers curled into the fabric at his chest, tugging gently. He hesitated, but only for a moment, before his arms moved, allowing you to peel the white shirt away from him. Inch by inch, the fabric slid over his shoulders, revealing lean muscle and skin mapped with faint scars.
Your eyes went wide, breath catching as you pushed the shirt down his arms and let it fall to the floor. A sound, no, an almost moan, threatened to escape you, but you swallowed it back. Still, your hands had a will of their own and began trailing slowly up and down his torso.
You felt the hard ridges of his stomach, the steady rhythm of his breathing. His reaction was immediate, his eyes fluttering shut as his jaw tightened. The bottom lip caught between his teeth betrayed what he was trying to suppress.
The sight made a heat coil low in your stomach, your own breath turning shallow.
Your gaze drifted lower, tracing the line of his abdomen until it landed on the waistband of his black slacks. He seemed to sense the shift in your attention, because his voice came low, rough, like gravel dragged over velvet.
âDo you want them off, too?â
The rasp sent a shiver racing down your spine.
You blinked, meeting his eyes again, a laugh slipping from your throat, âIf it will make you comfortable⊠yes.â
The corner of his mouth twitched into a faint smirk, but his gaze burned steady on you as he reached for the latch of his trousers.
You swallowed hard, watching as his long fingers hooked into the waistband of his trousers and pushed them down. The sound of the fabric sliding over his legs seemed louder than it shouldâve been. When they hit the floor, he straightened, standing there in nothing but his briefs with hs hand not-so-subtly shielding the hard outline straining beneath the thin fabric.
A hot pulse bloomed deep inside you, your arousal pooling between your thighs as your breath caught. You broke your gaze away, feigning innocence, though the ache in your chest gave you away. âSee? Is that better?â
Crosshairâs eyes dragged over you with open hunger, the sharp angles of his face softened by the shadow of want. âMuchâŠâ he breathed, like it was the only word he could find.
Your pulse stumbled, your eyes drawn back down before you could stop yourself. His hand shifted just slightly, enough that you caught the movement of the deliberate, slow palm against himself. Your heart stalled, then thundered.
You licked your lips, your voice almost breaking into a whisper as you shifted back. âLike what you see?â
âDo you?â
Your head tilted, eyes half-lidded as your fingers danced at the band of your satin shorts, teasing without quite committing. âI do,â you murmured, letting your body arch ever so slightly, the pose dripping with invitation as you leaned back on your hands. âNow tell me, do you⊠husband?â
His eyes narrowed, studying every subtle shift of your body. His jaw worked, and then he gave the smallest of nods, voice rough and quiet. âA lot.â
The words sent your skin prickling with awareness. Your hand slid from the band of your shorts to your thigh, fingertips tracing upward, grazing your skin softly as though demonstrating exactly what his stare made you crave.
His eyes followed your movements, darkening as though he were fighting to keep control.
You raised a single finger, crooking it toward him. A wordless summon.
Crosshairâs gaze burned hotter, but he obeyed without hesitation. His long, lean frame shifted forward as he planted both hands on the mattress for the first time, the springs dipping beneath his weight as he prowled closer. When he reached you, he hovered over your body, his face so close you could feel the warm graze of his breath against your lips.
âWhat do you want?â he asked, low and rough, his voice scraping like gravel, like he already knew but needed to hear it from you. He dipped his head nearer, inhaling deeply, his nose brushing your temple as though memorising the scent of your skin.
Your lips parted, your tongue darting out to wet them, every nerve in your body trembling as you leaned in, close enough your mouth brushed his. Your voice broke into a heated whisper, âI want you to fuck me.â
The words detonated between you.
A sharp hiss of need left him and before you could second-guess yourself, his mouth was on yours, scorching and demanding.
His lips moved with bruising force, teeth catching your bottom lip as though heâd been starving for the taste of you. One hand slid from the bed to your waist, gripping and dragging your body flush against his until there wasnât an inch of space left. You could feel every inch of his arousal pressed against your belly, hot and unyielding.
You gasped into his mouth, fingers tangling in his short hair that soon became unkempt as his tongue swept past your lips, claiming you with a hunger that made your head spin.
When he broke from your mouth, it was only to trail searing kisses along your jaw, down your throat. His breath was hot, uneven, his teeth scraping sensitive skin before his tongue soothed the sting. âYou have no ideaâŠâ he rasped between kisses, ââŠhow long Iâve wanted this.â
You blush intensely, arching your back into him, craving more of that heat, that weight. His hand dipped lower, spanning your hip, fingers digging into the satin of your shorts as though he could crush the fabric away.
Your lips brushed his again in a soft, fleeting kiss. You pulled back with a mischievous glint in your eyes that made Crosshair chase the contact immediately but you giggled and tilted away, planting a kiss instead against his cheek.
âTch,â he mutters, but you only laughed again, moving lower. You kissed along the sharp cut of his jaw, slow and deliberate, feeling the subtle twitch of the muscle beneath your lips. He exhaled through his nose, trying to keep control, but you knew you had him wound tight.
Your mouth hovered at his ear, your words a sinful whisper. âYou like fake dating me, then?â you teased, lips brushing the sensitive skin just beneath. âIs this how youâd treat me if I was yours?â
He groaned under his breath, his hands clenching against your hips as though debating whether to hold you still or let you drive him mad. His chest heaved against yours, hot and solid, and when you kissed lower down his throat, his Adamâs apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.
And then, almost in the same breath, you were pulling at each otherâs clothes, the tension too much to keep contained. His hands fumbled your satin vest before he pulled it over your head meanwhile you hooked your fingers into the waistband of his briefs, tugging impatiently. He then stripped you of your shorts as you shoved his last layer down.
When his lips crashed back onto yours, your words slipped out between ragged breaths, needy but daring: âIt was sexy⊠watching you defend me at dinner.â
Crosshair froze for only a moment, pulling back just enough to smirk down at you. âSexy, huh?â His voice was a rasp of sin. âDid it turn you on?â
You didnât give him the satisfaction of a verbal answer. Instead, your hand slid boldly between your bodies, fingers wrapping around his rigid heat. The sound that left him was a low, primal and guttural groan that vibrated in his chest and into your palm. His head dropped against yours, lips parting as his eyes squeezed shut, every muscle in his body shuddering under your touch.
Your smirk was wicked as he whispered, âIâll take that as a yes.â
Confidence blooming inside you, you gave him a little push that made Crosshair fall back into the mattress. His long body stretched out beneath you, skin lit faintly by the bedside glow.
You straddled him, your bare skin sliding against his as you pressed down into the lines of his chest and abdomen. Lower still, the thick weight of him rested against your thigh, hot and heavy. His eyes tracked you like a predator and yet⊠there was awe in them too, something reverent, almost disbelieving.
It made you ache.
âCrossâŠâ you purred, dragging your palms down his chest, tracing the scars and sharp dips of muscle, before raking your nails ever so lightly across his stomach. He hissed, the muscles flexing beneath your touch, his fists knotting in the sheets.
âYouâre beautiful,â you whispered, pressing a kiss to his chest before sliding lower.
Your hand wrapped boldly around him thenâthick, hard and burning against your palm. His whole body jerked at the contact, a sound low in his throat. You gave him a slow, deliberate pump, feeling him twitch against your hand, and his breath hitched.
He bit his lip, sharp eyes flicking away as he tried to choke back the groan threatening to break free.
Now that wouldnât do.
You leaned down, lips brushing against the swollen head of his cock as you looked up at him. âNo,â you whispered, sultry and commanding. Your tongue flicked out, teasing a slow lick across his length, tasting the salt of him. His hips bucked despite himself. âDonât hold back from me. I want to hear you, husband.â
That broke him. His marriage kink unable to be tamed any longer.
A guttural moan spilled free, raw and gravelly, vibrating through his chest as his head tipped back into the pillow. His long fingers shot into your hair, not forcing, but clutching like he needed to anchor himself.
âFuckâŠâ he rasped, eyes squeezing shut as you stroked him firmly, your tongue teasing at his tip. His voice dropped lower, almost desperate now. âYouâre gonna kill me, sweetheart.â
You let your lips ghost over the head of his cock, just enough to make him twitch. His sharp inhale was music, the kind of sound that made your pussy ache. You opened your mouth slowly, letting him slide past your lips inch by inch, your tongue flattening against the underside to savour.
Crosshairâs body went rigid, another deep groan breaking from his chest before he managed to stifle it behind his teeth. His hand clenched tighter in your hair, the other curling into the sheets so hard the fabric threatened to tear.
âStarsâŠâ he hissed, voice gravel rough. His eyes cracked open to watch you, his pupils blown wide, jaw tight as he fought for control. âYouâreâ.â
âMhmm? A good cock-sucking wife?â You hummed around him, the vibration making his hips twitch up involuntarily before you slap his cock against your tongue.
He cursed again, raw and breathless, as you then sank lower, taking more of him into your throat with a languid patience. When you finally pulled back, strings of saliva connected your lips to him. You stroked him with your hand, pumping lazily as you licked your lips, gaze never leaving his.
âSloppy enough for you, sniper?â you teased, your voice husky.
He swallowed hard, chest heaving. His eyes darted to your mouth, wet and swollen, then back to your gaze. âFuckâdonât tease.â
You smirked and slid him back between your lips, this time messy, unrestrained. Your spit coated him as you bobbed your head, tongue working every sensitive ridge. The wet sounds filled the room were obscene and echoing.
And Crosshair lost the last of his composure.
His hips thrust up, shallow at first, testing your tolerance. When you moaned around him in approval, he swore viciously and gave in, driving himself into your mouth with snapping thrusts. His groans grew louder, unfiltered now of pure need.
âFuckâsweetheartâyou feel soââ His head tipped back, tendons straining in his neck as he lost himself in the wet heat of your throat. His grip on your hair was tight but not cruel, guiding the momentum. âDonât stop⊠donât you dare stop.â
Your eyes watered, spit dripping from your lips and chin as you let him use your mouth, the sight of his unraveling making you slick between your thighs.
The more he thrust into your mouth, the less control he had, his rhythm breaking into jagged, needy snaps of his hips. His jaw slackened, head tipped back and his voice dropped into a low, desperate growl.
âStarsââ his hand fisted your hair tighter, his thighs tensing under you, âIâmâfuck, Iâm gonnaââ
You hollowed your cheeks and moaned, and that did it. Crosshair groaned in pleasure as he spilled hot and thick into your mouth, the taste of him flooding your tongue. You swallowed around him greedily, gulping down every drop, your eyes fixed on him while his face contorted with the kind of pleasure heâd never let anyone else see.
When his hips finally stilled, his chest heaving, you pulled back slowly, breathless, lips shining. A stray strand of saliva clung to your chin as you licked him clean and swallowed the last of him with a shaky exhale.
Crosshair stared at you like you were a miracle. In a blur, he sat up and pulled you into him, his mouth crashing onto yours. The kiss was searing, teeth and tongue, his taste mingling with the faint salt still lingering on your tongue. His hands framed your face like he couldnât get enough, like he was starved for you.
Then he was easing you down onto the bed, his body covering yours as he grabbed a pillow, slipping it beneath your head with an odd, almost tender care. His lips broke from yours only long enough to mutter against them, voice rough and hungry:
âMy turn.â
His breath fanned hot over your lips before he started kissing lowerâyour throat, your collarbone, the swell of your breasts. His hands roamed as though he had to touch every inch of you, his mouth trailing fire down your body.
When he finally reached the edge of the bed, Crosshair settled between your thighs, his sharp gaze fixed on your glistening pussy like it was the only thing in the galaxy worth worshiping. His lips parted, his breath hitching audibly, and he muttered lowâmore to himself than youâ
âFuck⊠youâre perfect.â
Crosshair didnât dive in straight away. He hovered, eyes locked on your pussy as though the sight alone could undo him. His lips curved into a lazy smirk, and he dragged two long fingers down your inner thigh, stopping just short of where you needed him most.
âMakerâŠâ he murmured, âYou donât even know what you do to me, do you?â
Your breath hitched as he finally let his fingers ghost over your folds, feather-light, so teasing you nearly whimpered. He let them trail lower, then flickedâjust the faintest tap against your clit. The jolt of sensation had your hips twitching and a broken whine slipping from your lips before you could swallow it back.
His smirk deepened. âThere it is. Thought you were gonna keep all those sweet little sounds from me, hm?â Another tap, deliberate this time, making your thighs clench around him.
âCrossâŠâ you gasped, tangling your hands into your hair in frustration as he refused to give you what you wanted.
âPatience, sweetheart,â he drawled, his breath ghosting hot over you as he leaned closer. âGonna take my time with you.â
And then, instead of another flick, he pressed his lips to your pussy. Not a lick. Not a graze. A kissâslow, tender, as if he were kissing your mouth. His nose brushed your clit as his lips molded against your folds, and your back arched helplessly.
âOh, starsââ you whimpered, every nerve alight.
âMmm,â he hummed against you, his lips moving in lazy, wet kisses over every inch of your cunt, the sound obscene and intimate all at once. Between each press of his mouth, he whispered filth in that low gravel of his:
âSo softâŠâ kiss.
âSo sweetâŠâ kiss.
âMineâŠâ another kiss, deeper, his tongue teasing past his lips just enough to taste you.
Your thighs trembled around his shoulders as his hands held you steady, his kisses reverent and filthy all at once. The sensation was maddening, tender enough to make you shiver but edged with hunger that had your body straining for more.
When he finally let his tongue part your folds and give one long, deliberate lick, he groaned into you like he was the one unraveling. âFuck, you taste better than I imagined.â
And then he was back to kissing, savouring and making you whimper and writhe with every press of his lips.
Your breath hitched when Crosshair finally gave in to what youâd been silently begging for. His lips parted and his tongue slid between your folds, slow at first and deliberate. He pushed deeper, tongue-fucking you with unhurried precision, dragging every needy whimper out of your chest.
Your fingers fisted the duvet, crushing a rose petal or two between them as your back arched off the bed. âBabyââ your voice broke, strangled, your thighs trembling against his shoulders.
He groaned low, the vibration making you gasp, before his tongue left you only to wrap his lips around your clit. He sucked once, hard enough to make you cry out, then let it go with a wet pop, smirking up at you with his mouth glistening.
âThatâs it,â he cooed, voice soaked in lust. His grip shifted, long arms sliding under your thighs so he could pin your hips down, your body useless against his strength. âSuch a good wife, taking it just like that.â
The filthy words made your pussy clench, heat flooding you in a new wave, and you let out something between a whimper and a moan. âFuckâŠCrosshairâŠâ
He chuckled against you, the bastard, and dragged his tongue back through your slit before sucking your clit again, longer this time. Your body jolted against his hold, toes curling, fingers grabbing fistfuls of bedding and petals alike.
âIâm so glad itâs you who volunteered,â you gasped, words spilling out broken, your thighs tightening around him. âSo glad itâsâahâfuck!â
His chuckle was muffled against your folds, his tongue relentless, before he pulled back just enough to mutter against your swollen pussy:
âThe others wouldnât treat you like this.â His teeth grazed your clit, playful, making you shudder. âThey wouldnât know how to worship you.â
Then his mouth sealed over you again, sucking hard, tongue teasing, his hands keeping you caged and helpless as he devoured you.
Crosshair pulled back again with that maddening pop of his lips leaving your clit, strings of spit shining between you. He didnât go far thoughâjust hovered, breath hot against your swollen flesh, and you swore the sound of him inhaling your scent was almost louder than your whimpers.
âMaker, look at you,â he murmured, thumb coming up to flick your clit once, twiceâsharp little sparks that made your hips buck against his unrelenting grip. âAll puffy and dripping for me. For your husband.â
âCrossââ you tried, but it came out as a broken moan, your thighs twitching around his shoulders.
âYou like this, donât you?â His tongue darted out, giving a light, taunting lap over your slit before moving away again. âBeing spread out like this, my mouth on your sweet cunt, making a mess of my face.â He chuckled, low and dark, and flicked his thumb over your clit harder, making you cry out. âBet youâd let me keep you here all night if I wanted.â
Your hands tangled in your own hair, pulling at the strands, desperate. âPleaseââ you gasped, voice shaking as your body jerked when he suddenly tapped your clit with his fingers, light but fast, like he was testing how far he could push you. âFuck, please!â
He groaned, sounding almost feral, like your begging was better than any victory heâd ever had in battle. His teeth grazed you again, soft nips that made you jolt. âNot yet,â he rasped, giving your clit another sharp flick that made your whole body seize. âI want you begging properly first.â
You sobbed his name, hips fighting his hold as he alternated between sucking you into his mouth and pulling away with those obscene, wet pops that echoed in the quiet room. Each time he left you empty you wanted to scream, and each time he came back it was too much, your orgasm building like a storm he refused to let break.
âTell me,â he drawled, lips brushing your clit, not giving you the pressure you craved. âTell me you want to come for me. Tell me no one else could get you this way.â
Your head thrashed side to side against the pillows, sweat beading at your temple. âIâfuckâI want to come for you, Cross. Please. No one elseâno one couldâjust please let meââ
He hummed in satisfaction, mouth closing over you again, sucking slow and deep while his fingers tapped in time with your racing pulse. âGood wife,â he muttered against your soaked heat, âthatâs my girlâŠâ
Your whole body tightened, teetering right on the edge, held hostage by his mouth.
Crosshair must have the way every muscle in your body went taut beneath his grasp. How your breath came in sharp little gasps like your lungs couldnât keep up. He groaned into your cunt, and then mercifully gave you what youâd been begging for.
His mouth sealed over your clit, sucking hard and steady, tongue flicking in relentless little strokes that pushed you right past the edge. His grip on your thighs tightened, locking you down as your body jolted violently against him.
The orgasm ripped through you like fire, so sharp it almost hurt, and you cried out his name in an almost a sob as you broke apart as your vision blurred.
Crosshair didnât stop. He groaned against you, drinking every drop of you down, his lips and chin slick as he worked you through it. âThatâs it,â he rasped between licks, voice ruined but steady. âGood girl. Come on, give it to me. Give it all to me.â
You were shaking, trembling uncontrollably under his hold, pleasure crashing in waves so strong it left you breathless. He eased the pressure only when you began to whimper from overstimulation, his kisses softer now, soothing little laps that felt almost adoring against your swollen clit.
When he finally pulled back, his lips and chin glistened and he tenderly kissed the inside of your thigh before crawling up the bed. His body caged yours in, the hard weight of his cock pressing heavy against your hip as he gathered you into his arms.
You were still gasping, chest heaving, tears pricking your eyes from the intensity of it all. He brushed damp hair away from your face with surprising gentleness, thumb swiping at the sweat along your temple.
âGood girl,â he whispered again, voice gravelly, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. âYou did so well cyare.â
You hummed weakly against his mouth, lazy and sated but achingly aware of the thick length pressed against you. He groaned as your thigh shifted, brushing it on purpose, and his hips twitched forward helplessly.
âFuck,â he muttered, forehead pressed to yours, his cock throbbing now and resting against your stomach.
He kissed you slowly as though you hadnât just come undone screaming his name minutes before. His tongue brushed yours, unhurried, while his hand slid down your hip, anchoring you. âMore,â you moan beautifully into his mouth, âI want more.â
When he shifted, rolling halfway onto his side beside you, you felt the slick head of him glide down against your folds. You gasped, shuddering at the sudden jolt of sensation as your pussy was still swollen and tender from his mouth. He didnât push in, though. Just stroked his length along your soaked slit, letting the tip bump your clit in maddening, teasing drags.
Your hips did a desperate little roll that had his lips curve into that infuriating smirk. âStill sensitive, huh?â he rasped, the gravel in his voice betraying just how tightly he was holding back. You tried to answer, but all that left you was a breathy whimper as he dragged himself down and back up again, coating his cock in your wetness.
âLook at you,â he murmured, gaze locked to your face as his hand tilted your thigh open wider. His tip nudged right at your entrance, circling but not pushing in yet. âSo fucking ready for me.â
He then lowered his head, lips kissing your shoulder so tenderly that your heart melts. You caught his eyes when he finally lifted his head. Neither of you spoke, but the air between you thrummed with silent consent, the kind that left no room for doubt.
His forehead brushed yours, lips hovering as he rasped low, âIâll go slow.â
And then, slow but steady as he promised, he started to press forward. His breath stuttered the second his tip pushed inside, the blunt head parting you inch by inch.
Heatâwet and velvet-tightâclosed around him, and Crosshair almost crumbled then and there, his body trembling faintly as he held himself back. âFfffââ He bit off a curse, jaw tightening.
You whimpered softly, the initial stretch making your walls flutter around him. It wasnât painful. Just thick and slow. A fullness that made you gasp. Your fingers clutched at his arm, nails grazing the skin as you whispered, âCrossâŠââyour voice shaky, needy, urging.
His cock twitched deep inside at the sound, his hips rolling forward another careful inch. âYou alright?â he rasped, voice breaking low.
You gave a quick nod, looking down as his cock disappeared inside you with every slow movement.
He didnât slam, didnât shove. He inched forward, then drew halfway back, then pressed in again with a rhythm of patience. The drag of him pulled a breathless moan from your throat.
âBreathe,â he muttered, his lips brushing your temple as if grounding you as much as himself. He let you cling, let you adjust, every tiny movement deliberate. âIâve got you, meshâla.â
The way he said it made your heart lurch, like it wasnât just about sexâŠlike he meant all of it.
And when you finally tilted your hips, just slightly, letting him know you were ready for more, his control frayed. He sank in deeper, a low moan slipping out of his throat at the way your body welcomed him.
Crosshair bent close, lips brushing over the shell of your ear as he murmured, voice roughened with memory, âWhen you called me âyour starsâ back at that mealâŠâ His hips pressed deeper, making your body jolt against the mattress. ââŠMaker, I wanted you then and there. Didnât care who was watching.â
Your mouth fell open, breath catching, a whimper spilling out with the way his words wrapped around you as intimately as his body did. You tilted your head back, enough to find his lips. The kiss was soft, slow, your tongues brushing as his cock slid out and then back in with a steady glide.
Each thrust melted into the next, your body clenching around him instinctively as you clung into his chest. His groan rumbled against your mouth, and when he broke away, his forehead pressed to yours. âFeels so good like this. You, wrapped around me, taking me slow.â
The pace wasnât frantic. It wasnât about release. It was about every inch of him inside you, every shiver of your body responding, every sigh and moan you gave him like it was for him alone.
He kissed you again, even more gentler this time, lips brushing yours in little whispers of touch before pulling back to watch your face twist in pleasure as he filled you over and over.
His rhythm stuttered for a moment, pulling all the way out of you with a slick, obscene sound that made your body twitch in protest. The sudden emptiness tore a desperate whine from your throat, your hands clutching at the sheets.
âShh,â he rasped, voice dripping with smug satisfaction. âAlready needy, arenât you?â
Before you could form a reply, he shifted up, long fingers curling under your thighs. In one smooth move he lifted your legs and hooked them over his shoulders, folding you open for him as he sat on his knees. You gasped at the change and at how vulnerable it made you feel⊠owned.
And you fucking loved it.
Crosshair smirked, eyes gleaming as he angled himself, the fat head of his cock nudging back against your soaked entrance. âYeah,â he murmured, dragging it through your folds, coating himself in you. âThatâs it. This is where you want me, isnât it?â
You nodded helplessly, breathless. âYesâfuck, yes, Crossââ
He slid back inside with a single, deliberate thrust that made your vision spark, filling you to the hilt. A strangled moan tore from your throat, your back arching against the bed. He groaned deep in his chest, bending forward so your calves squeezed tighter against his neck. âShit, you feel so good. So fucking tight. Like you were made to take me.â
The pace changedâno longer slow and sweet, but harder, sharper, his hips snapping against yours with wet, slapping sounds that echoed in the suite. Every thrust pushed you further up the bed, rose petals clinging to your damp skin.
Crosshair turned his head to the side, his lips brushing your calf before biting lightly, sending another shiver racing through you. âLook at you,â he muttered against your skin, voice dark and possessive. âSpread out for me. Letting me fuck you like youâre mine.â
Your nails clawed at the duvet, head tipping back as the words spilled out of you before you could stop them. âI am yours, Cross. No one elseâjust you.â
The admission made his hips slam harder, a ragged growl leaving him. His hands wrap around your legs, holding them tight to his body, keeping you pinned. âSay it again,â he demanded, amber eyes burning into you as he drove deeper, harder.
âIâm yours!â you cried out, voice shaking, tears stinging your lashes with the force of it. âAll yours, Crosshair!â
He smirked, satisfaction dripping from every thrust as he fucked you rougher, his possessiveness unraveling in every movement. âGood wife,â he groaned, bending lower so your thighs framed his face, âmy perfect fucking wife.â
He didnât even pause to catch his breath, just gripped your hips and dragged you to the edge of the bed. With a swift, fluid motion, he flipped you onto your stomach, and you gasped at the sudden change of angle, the cool sheets against your bare skin.
âYou like it when I take control, donât you?â he rasped, one hand landing hard on your arse, sending a delicious shock through your body. You grinned, breath hitching, letting out a low laugh that was part pleasure, part defiance.
âYouâre mine,â he whispered, sliding himself back inside you from behind.
Your legs instinctively spread wider as he pulled you closer, his hand tangling in your hair. He tugged sharply, bringing your head back so you bounced against his cock with each controlled thrust. âThatâs it, bounce for me. Show me how good it feels, wife,â he growled, every word thick with control.
You cried out, loud and unrestrained, the bed creaking under the force of him driving into you. âOh, Crossâyes! Harder! Pleaseâdonât stop!â
He chuckled darkly, leaning over you so your cheek pressed into the sheets, his lips brushing the back of your neck. âGood girl,â he praised, hand slapping your arse again, rough and loving at the same time. âSo fucking good for me. Look at you, taking me so well.â
Your chest heaved, legs trembling but you kept bouncing back, your body obedient and desperate, lips parted in a moan that didnât care who could hear.
He angled himself just right, hitting deep and slow at first, then snapping his hips faster, letting you feel every inch. âMaker, youâre perfect,â he groaned, voice low and commanding. âSo wet, so tight⊠all mine.â
You pressed your face further into the sheets, moaning around the muffled sounds, your body arching up instinctively. âCrosshair! Ohâyes! Iâm yours! Always yours!â
He responded by tugging your hair harder, his cock driving into you with relentless force, hand roaming over your hips and arse, marking you with every movement, praising and claiming you at once.
You turned your head just enough to catch his burning eyes over your shoulder. Your lips curved into a wicked grin even as your body shuddered with every rough slam of his cock.
âLook at you,â you moaned, voice sharp and sultry, âlosing yourself inside me. You canât help it, can you? Iâve got you wrapped around my finger just as tight as Iâve got you wrapped inside me.â
His thrust falteredâjust for a secondâas if the words themselves had tripped him. His eyes narrowed, mouth falling open, but the sound that came out was a raw and pathetic whimper betraying how undone he really was.
âYou love it,â you taunted, rolling your hips back against him with a delicious grind that had him growling through clenched teeth. âMy good husband, falling apart because of me. Cockdrunk.â
âF-fuckââ he hissed, the word tearing out of him. His pace grew erratic, desperate, like he was chasing something he couldnât hold back any longer.
Then suddenly he hauled you, panting and trembling, onto your back again. Your legs spread wide as he pressed himself flush against you, cock sliding right back into your soaked heat without hesitation.
The air punched from your lungs as he buried his face in your neck, breath hot and ragged, his weight pinning you down deliciously. Your nails raked down his back, dragging red marks into his skin while he drove into you with merciless force. The headboard slammed rhythmically into the wall with every thrust, each clap of wood-on-wall punctuated by your screams and sobs of pleasure.
âYesâyes, Crosshair, pleaseââ your voice broke, cracking under the relentless pace. Your body arched under him, sweat slick between you, every nerve ending aflame as his hips pounded into yours.
âWhereââ he groaned into your throat, biting your skin like he needed to anchor himself, âwhere do you want it, baby? Tell meâfuckâwhere should I come?â
Your head snapped back, eyes wild, desperate tears clinging to your lashes. You clutched at his back, pulling him tighter, legs wrapping around his waist to lock him in place.
âInside!â you cried, voice shaking, pleading. âPlease, Cross, come inside me. I want it, I need itâfill me with your hot cum. P-please!â
He groans like a man possessed, hips snapping even harder, his control shredding as he buried himself deeper and deeper.
Crosshairâs movements became almost frantic, hips stuttering as he drove into you with a desperate rhythm. His hand slid down between your bodies, fingers landing squarely on your clit, rubbing with perfect pressure and speed, coaxing you closer and closer to your edge.
âCome for me, right now, right now,â he growled, his teeth grazing your neck as he slammed his cock into you. âIâm going to fill you up, good girlâcome on my cock.â
Your body convulsed at his words, every nerve screaming as your climax hit with a white-hot force. You grabbed his face, forcing your lips to his, biting his lower lip as you panted hotly into his mouth, gasping, moaning and utterly undon. .
âBabyâŠâ you whispered between ragged breaths, your fingers tangling in his hair as your body shuddered uncontrollably around him.
Crosshairâs groan deep as he tensed, shuddered, and finally spilled inside you. Warm and overwhelming. You felt him pulse inside you, his hips stuttering with each breathless thrust, as your own climax trembled out against his hand, still pressing your clit with maddening rhythm.
Even after he came, he stayed buried deep, hips rocking slightly, his chest pressing to yours, letting you feel every lingering pulse of him. He nuzzled against your neck.
Crosshair let out a low, almost inaudible sigh of relief, his forehead resting against yours as you melted into his side. His hand lingered soflty on your waist, fingers tracing lazy circles over your hip.
There was a small tension as you saw him look down where his hands had been on you. You use your finger to angle his face back to you and say reassuringly, âyou didnât hurt me.â
âI canât believe we just did that,â you rasp, voice trembling slightly from exertion and lingering arousal.
He hesitated for a moment, the usually unshakable Crosshair sounding almost vulnerable. âDo⊠do you regret it?â
You cupped his jaw with one hand and silenced any doubt with a slow, deliberate kiss. And when you pulled back, your eyes softened.
âDefinitely not, my stars,â you said fondly, voice carrying sincerity. His lips twitched, almost a smile, though heâd never admit it outright. Relief settled into his posture, the tension leaving his shoulders, and for the first time since the two of you had been tangled together, he seemed⊠at peace.
Your fingers brushed over his chest, tracing the rapid rise and fall of his breath. âYou feel⊠amazing,â you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the side of his neck, feeling the steady thrum of his pulse beneath your lips.
He let out a low hum, nudging you closer with his shoulder. âSo do you,â he murmured, still holding you like he was afraid to let go.
The two of you lay there, sweaty, sticky, and utterly spent, yet somehow more connected than ever.
You do eventually shift, muscles sore but tingling from the aftermath of everything, and groan quietly as you attempt to tug your nightwear back over your body. Crosshair watches you with a glint in his eyes, âYou look ridiculous like that,â he teases.
You shoot him a mock glare, though your cheeks betray the flush of heat and lingering pleasure. âOh, and you donât?â you retort, finally wriggling into your nightwear.
He hums, the sound rumbling in his chest. âMaybe not,â he admits, voice edged with amusement, âbut I think weâve earned a bit more⊠relaxation.â
Your brow quirks, intrigued. âRelaxation?â
Crosshair tilts his head, smirk growing. âThe jacuzzi,â he says simply, climbing off the bed. âWarm water, bubbles⊠think you can handle that after an hour like this?â
You let out a breathy laugh, the soreness in your thighs reminding you just how much fun youâd had. âI think I could manage. Maybe,â you tease, still rolling your shoulders to loosen the tension.
He steps closer, eyes tracking your movements, and reaches for your hand. âThen come on,â he says, dragging you toward the bathroom. âLetâs make the next hour⊠just as enjoyable.â
You let him lead you to the jacuzzi once itâs filled, the scent of soap and warm water filling the room. And as you both sink into the bubbling warmth, the world outside ceases to exist.
Crosshair leans back, one arm draped across your shoulders, and you curl against him, feeling both soothed and mischievous as you ponder just how long you two could stay here.
Silence stretched comfortably between you. He shifted after a moment, reaching for a bar of soap resting at the edge. Without a word, he lathered it between his hands, then pressed his palms gently against your back, his fingers smoothing over sore muscles. He was careful as he washed down your arms, sliding his touch from your shoulders to your wrists. Every stroke was accompanied by a quiet kiss to the back of your head, your temple, the damp strands of your hair sticking to his lips.
âYouâre spoiling me,â you teased softly.
âGood,â he muttered against your crown, fingertips tracing over your skin like he was memorising it.
A sly smile pulled at your lips. âYou know, you enjoyed calling me your wife a little too much back there.â
You felt him stiffen almost imperceptibly, his hands faltering just for a second before resuming. ââŠYou noticed.â
You turned your head, grinning up at him. âHard not to. You sounded like you meant it.â
For a long moment, he said nothing, eyes fixed on the water, jaw tight. But then his shoulders relaxed, and he exhaled, lips brushing your temple once more. ââŠThatâs because I did.â His voice was low, almost grudging, but the truth in it made your heart soar.
âCrosshairââ
âYouâre⊠marriage material,â he cut in, avoiding your gaze as you tilt your head back, as though the words embarrassed him more than any of the filthy things heâd whispered between the sheets. His thumb traced circles absently on your shoulder. âDonât ask me to say it twice.â
You blinked, stunned into silence for a moment before a soft laugh slipped free. The sound made him glance down, eyes narrowing like he regretted saying anything at allâuntil you leaned up and pressed your lips against his.
Thanks for the tag, Xena! Also, did not expect the third one HELP (second one lowkey feels like you, ngl?
1. I'm not good at articulation. A lot of my friends on here have told me they thought I was really confident and well-spoken, but that's just in writingâ I can't speak well đ and certainly not in front of crowds.
2. I was a Karasu hater once. Yeah, be surprised. I hated him when I first read the manga, it took me a second reread (because the first read is always just me thinking from the protagonist's pov without any other influence) to like him.
3. I have a really short fuse in real life. I'm working on changing it, but I lose patience really fast, especially with myself. So yep. Texting cools me down, helps me think.
Tags! @someprettyname , @blue-thief , @melodiclune (it's been a while, hi!) , @kenyudotcom , @satosuguhastakenovermylife , @kurona-theshark , @helpwhat , @andysdrafts , @chryolphyll , @riririnnnn + open tags!
My first two languages were Anishinaabemowin and French. I only started learning English when I was four.
The reason I do not like writing about periods, having children, or pregnancy is not only because of my general disinterest in the topic but also because I was born sterile and will never have a period.
I do not actively seek out romance and have been happily single for six years now! I write about it so much that I feel like that seems unlike me. Maybe one day I will have a Missus Brutus, just waiting on the right person.
A game đ„ș Haven't been sent one of those in a while! Thanks!
1. I am a big overthinker and it makes me hesitant to post and interect with others a lot. Even writing these 3 random facts about myself made me overthink for a good 10 minutes on what I should answer. Its also my small crafting business' name because đ That's who I am.
2. I only posted fics about Marvel, Star Wars and Umbrella Academy, but I am a huge fan of animes. I cosplayed AOT and rn, on top of my Spartan armor (from Halo) I'm planning on making a Megumin cosplay with my hubby as Kasuma from Konosuba.
3. I am struggling rn with impostor syndrom. I feel like everyone I interacted on this platform left because idk, they grew up, and I'm still here, still liking the characters and daydreaming, yet maybe I should have grown up too?
Chapter 3: Treat nature with respect; it is the source of all life
Masterlist
Pairing:Â Wrecker x Reader
Words:Â 3000 words
Warnings: TW: Poaching, wildlife torture, allusion to suicidal thoughts.
Taglist: @haloangel391 @sunset-toast    Â
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Before night fell and robbed you of your sight, Hunter accepted to stop for the day.
The Batchers were working on setting up a temporary camp while you took on the task of preparing dinner. The rations Echo had assured would do them just fine was not cutting it for you and you insisted they at least let you make them their own servings. You were already cooking, making more was not a bother nor a problem. You were never one to carry rations, preferring to eat fresh on the go.Â
You worked silently at preparing the venison you shot down earlier. Along with some roots and other vegetables growing nearby, this would make a fulfilling hearty stew. You kept yourself busy and entertained by chatting with Raek who lounged nearby, sharing with him your reconstruction plans for the barn.Â
It was all very peaceful, until your bubble burst. Echo approached you, his boots dragging on the ground which you were positive was on purpose to catch your attention. âNot much of a people person, are you?â It wasn't said in a belittling way, more like someone who could relate. It was nice.Â
âAh.â You smiled awkwardly and shied away from his gaze. Wasnât it weird though? People usually thought that you spent too much time with your rescues and not enough with real people. You didnât know how to explain that the wyvern felt more like your people than the humans ever did. âGuess Iâm that obvious. I prefer to stick with my scaly guys. They tend to be simpler.âÂ
People were complicated. Social cues, feelings, egos, backgrounds, so many things that affect behavior and how people interact with each other. It was much simpler with wyverns. They were limited to instincts and instincts were predictable.Â
âI get what you mean.âÂ
A relieved breath left your lungs and you nodded, grateful.Â
âNeed help?â He offered, eyeing the clean, flat rock you used as a prep table. Â
âSure.â You proceeded to show him how to properly cut the meat from the bones, guided him through your usual grilling and slow cooking process and soon- but most importantly without much conversation other than short explanations and tips- you completed your task and the squad gathered around the fire to share the meal.
Before you could dig in, Raekâs growl cut through the silence. The soldiers momentarily froze. You were already on your feet, gunlance in hand. As suddenly as it had started, the threatening growl emanating from your partner came to a sudden stop. Raek jumped forward, leaving your confused self behind. You had never seen him change reactions this quickly before. From threatening to worried.Â
A small cry reached your ears. Your heart dropped. It was familiar. It was excited. And it was not supposed to be here. A million scenarios ran through your head in the blink of an eye and each made you sick to your stomach.Â
Silicaâs fiery orange body breached the patch of tall grass she was hiding within and happily trotted up to her father for affection. Raek muzzled her around, smelling for blood. You joined their side, looking her over for injuries. You breathed in relief when you found none. She thrilled in joy at the attention she was getting.Â
You swallowed hard, wondering how she had managed to elude Gabe and his brothers, how she had managed to remain undetected and just how she had made it all the way here without ending up in the stomach of something bigger than her, which at her age was basically anything.
âIs that the hat- eh- baby?â Wrecker asked, crouched at your side.Â
âYeah.â She rubbed her head on your palm in glee. Raek stood taller and you sighed in defeat. Standing up, you pulled Wrecker with you back to the fire. âCome on, let him do his thing.â
âHis thing?â He asked just as Raek snarled at his offspring.Â
âParenting.â You knew he was mad that Silica was out and following them, that this was dangerous. You also knew how glad he was that he could actually have an eye on her tonight and not ruminate on what could happen to her in his absence.Â
The clones slowly returned to their meals along with you, half watching the disciplining scene unfolding next to them. It took a good minute for Silica to reach your side, less joyful than she was moments ago. Almost ashamed, she crawled onto your lap to hide in the nest of your crossed legs.Â
The stew was a success, one that Wrecker was not shy to proclaim loudly for anything around to hear once the novelty of the scene passed. You found yourself amused by his antics.Â
The sun was now low enough on the horizon that barely any rays made it past the thick leaf curtain above. The noises of the forest progressively morphed from melodic chirps to low buzzing as the nightlife slowly came out of hiding.
Like clockwork, Raek split from the group and strode away to cry at the setting sun.Â
âWhatâs wrong with him?â Crosshair was the first to ask what they were all wondering.Â
âHeâs mourning.â You explained, your own heart heavy with loss. Silica rubbed her head on your side in an attempt to comfort you. âHis mate was killed months ago. She was the color of sunset.â The tips of your fingers traced the black star shapes on the small wyvernâs wings, the orange surrounding it seemingly catching fire under the last rays of the sun. Just like her motherâs. âSo Reak mourns her at dusk when the sky is her color.âÂ
âEveryday?â Wrecker looked back at Raek, surprised.Â
You nodded. âWyverns mate for life. To him, there wonât ever be another, just memories. And well, a legacy.â Silica moved so her snout dug deeply into your stomach.Â
âIf I may ask, you mentioned his mate was killed?â Tech had forgone his datapad, his whole body turned in your direction. âWhat happened?â
Your gaze fell to the ground, unfocused.Â
âRaiders attacked my barn.â It might have been months ago, but the memories were as fresh as if it had been the day before. The wails and cries of the little ones, the couple's roars, the yells of men. The smell of blood. âOn Halria we make armor and weapons out of wyvern or leviathan materials. If you have a mount, then you can use whatever they shed naturally. It takes time, but it's painless. Then thereâs hunts and defence that also brings in material. If we kill something then we waste nothing, that would be disrespectful. However, as you saw with your ship, killing one is hard as it is, so Raiders tend to target the young ones.â You took a deep breath to calm the anger bubbling to the surface. âSince mothers in the wild would fight gods for their young, they used to turn to those without parents, but Iâve been taking them in so there hasnât been any easy prey for quite a while.â
âThey struck at night. Busted the barn, hurt my guys, ripped-â A hand softly grabbed your shoulder, bursting you out of your head. The fire illuminated the worry in Echoâs eyes as he searched yours. It was then you realized that your vision was blurry. You shamefully wiped the culminating tears away before they had the chance to fall. You would not cry before strangers. Â
âThey had a Dread Vox of their own. Theyâre nocturnal and way more adapted to darkness than we were. Raek was taking it on with Kyu, his mate, and I was trying to keep the Raiders away from the lilâ guys. They were just- too many. I couldnât- they tore my kids apart right in front of me.â You cleared your throat in an attempt to open it up again and silence an upcoming sob. âThey were prepared. It was too quick for them not to be. When back up finally arrived, all that was left was one injured baby, bodies and an egg.âÂ
The devastation of that night had thrown you into a loop, more so when the injured baby died despite your best efforts. To see the bodies being ripped of their scales, their talons, fangs, nearly everything right before your eyes, some as they were still alive, gave you nightmares for weeks. It had almost sent you back to that cliff where Raek had found and saved you eleven years ago. You had thought that everything had been gone, that you had both lost your worlds. But Silica was still there. Her egg was intact, hidden away in her little nest at the back of the barn.Â
She saved Raek from dying of a broken heart and saved you from your desperation. As soon as she hatched, she looked up to you for guidance, protection and comfort and you gave her that and more.Â
âIâm sorry for your loss.â Echo squeezed your shoulder once before letting go. You acknowledged him with a small smile and a nod.Â
âSorry for making this awkward.â You chuckled in embarrassment. They were all looking at you, eyes worried and slightly horrified. Raekâs last cry resonated through the night air in a tragic note.Â
âNot your fault.â Wrecker pointed at Tech. âHe asked.âÂ
Tech sputtered. âI had no idea the cause for his mateâs demise would be this abominable.âÂ
âThank you though.â You picked at your hand guard, tracing the green scales. âFor listening. Iâve never talked about it out loud. Since day one people wanted to forget about it or found it too awkward to talk about, but I donât know.â You shrugged. âTalking about it now felt nice in a way, despite-â Your hands waved around in the air. âDespite not really knowing you guys.âÂ
Your peers werenât heartless, they simply hadnât known the orphans all that much, not like you did. They did not celebrate the young onesâ milestones like you did or help them become more confident in themselves. For the villagers, they were just animals given a second chance that didnât work out, for you, they were your family. Your very own that you created with your little bunch of misfits. They were like you, lost and all alone in a world bigger than themselves. Kindness had been shown to you when you had needed it so you had aimed to do the same with them. And you had failed them in the end.
âSharing therapy.â Your eyes still to the ground, you slightly turned your head in Techâs direction to show that he had your attention. âIt has been proven that simply talking about problems and sharing negative emotions with another party can be profoundly healing. It reduces stress and can reduce physical and emotional distress as well.âÂ
âDatapad on leg.â You mumbled, a corner of your lips twitching upward.Â
âHe knows way more than what standard training teaches us thatâs for sure.â Echo confirmed your suspicions.
âIt wasnât your fault.â Crosshairâs words cut through something tender within you. The intensity of his words told you he wasnât talking about Techâs questioning like Wrecker did. He was alluding to the carnage. To the aftermath. You met his eyes and felt seen. Understood. Your eyes burned.Â
âAnd here I thought you hated clones in general.â Hunter jested, his own meal finished at his side.Â
You blinked away the moisture in your eyes, grateful for the distraction. âHuh? Why would you think that?â You wouldnât even say you hated any of them, some were just more annoying than others at times, and it wasnât even something he did on purpose.Â
âYou two really seemed on edge at the idea of leaving with us for a couple of days.â The Sergeant pointed out.
Raekâs heavy footsteps shook the ground. Silicaâs head remained firmly pressed against you, despite the smell of meat wafting through the air.Â
âAh. No, itâs nothing against any of you, really. Itâs actually the first time weâll be away for a night since it happened and weâreâŠâ You trailed off, thinking of the right word. You were scared for sure, terrified even, to come back to an empty home and blood in the grass. But that would be disclosing too much although you had a feeling he already knew anyway. â-concerned something will go wrong and we wonât be there.â
Hunter hummed in understanding as you coaxed the baby in your lap to lift her head and tried to have her eat the shredded meat Raek dropped at your side. It was clear that she wanted to keep sulking, but the call of food was too strong. Her resolve was enough to keep her in your lap, even if her interest was piqued. You rolled your eyes in mocked irritation. You loved doting on this baby.Â
âHave they come back since?â Wrecker asked as you hand fed Silica.
âNah. A guard station was built close to our designated spot and some Riders even let their partners sleep near the barn now so if they ever do come back, I donât think theyâd manage to see the barn before being taken care of.âÂ
Wrecker seemed relieved at the information. âThatâs good.â You noticed how he looked at Silica, a frown adorning his features. You knew what he was wondering, how people could tear such adorable creatures apart. It was a question you asked yourself way too often.Â
You hissed as sharp teeth snagged on your finger. âCareful, I need those.â You chided.Â
âI thought a bite could kill you.â Crosshair pushed a toothpick through his teeth, watching your hand carefully.Â
You moved your head from one shoulder to the other. âAn adult bite, sure. She would only paralyze you for a good hour.âÂ
âYou donât look worried.â He pointed out.Â
âMeh. Iâve been nibbled so many times I got used to it. Now it just tingles whenever I get bit. Though, Iâve permanently lost feelings at the tip of my fingers.â You wiggled your right hand fingers before touching the tips together. The lack of sensation of touch had been weird at first. You soon grew to ignore it.Â
âThis is astounding.â Tech typed on his datapad at hyperspeed.Â
âHow long until we reach the caves tomorrow?â Hunter wondered, preparing his sleeping get up.Â
âIf we set off at first light, then weâll reach the caves late afternoon. Depending on how late we get there and how long itâll take to harvest the crystals, we might have to wait for the day after until we start your excavation session.â
Crosshair clicked his tongue. âThought you wanted to get this over with as soon as possible?â
âI do, but if we rush this, we might not make it back, so better late than never.â You rubbed your hand in the grass to get rid of the majority of the blood sticking to your fingers. You washed the rest away with some water before taking a swig.Â
âLet me guess.â Echo gave you one last look before laying down on his tactical camping bed. âDread Voxes live in the caves.â
âI wish! It would be better if that was the case, but no. The Lemgona cave system is their mating grounds.â A collective groan left four of the clones, surprising you. It did not sound like a âoh shitâ groan, but a ânot againâ groan. Huh. âYou guys better tell me that story tomorrow.âÂ
You rearranged Silica so she laid on the ground pressed against your side, her head resting on your lap. Raekâs upper body coiled around the two of you, his tail wrapping around Echo and Techâs cots. You laid back against his wing.Â
âThey better not try to mate with us.â Crosshair grumbled low enough that you almost missed it. Almost.Â
âOh, I wanna hear what happened now.â
Hunter visibly shivered. âTomorrow.â He met your gaze over the fire. âSo, mating grounds? What are the risks?â
âThe risks are five thousand kilos apex predators filled to the brim with testosterone and aggression.â Hunterâs shoulders sagged. âThey wonât try to mate with you, so donât worry about that. Theyâll try to eat you though.âÂ
âSo, nothing we werenât already expecting then.â
âI guess. Itâs also the end of mating season, so there might not be any around. Iâm just worried about stragglers.âÂ
âWeâll advise tomorrow and decide then.âÂ
You agreed. âIâll take first watch.âÂ
He acknowledged you with a nod. âIâll take second. Tech third and Wrecker fourth.âÂ
Hunter settled and the night became silent. After a short while, soft snores and steady breathings filled the air amongst the crackling of the fire. Your head fell backwards against Raek, eyes looking for some stars peaking through the sky of leaves.Â
These clones were nice, you decided. A nice breath of fresh air. You hadnât thought you would ever open up about the attack, and yet, it had flowed out of you without any hesitation. You still couldnât pinpoint the reason why it had been so easy to talk about it out loud when the memory had been so heavy on your conscience. What you knew however was that it hurt slightly less.Â
You hummed. Perhaps that was the reason. Unconsciously, you had been on the verge of collapse, forcing your problems down by working yourself to the bone every day. You had ignored the dark, festering cloud looming over your head long enough and it had used the first opportunity to burst out.Â
The memory was less heavy, and no longer on the verge of being unbearable. It wasnât your fault. Crosshairâs words rang in your head, striking that same chord that brought tears to your eyes. Wet tracks flowed down your cheeks silently, lightening the weight on your mind. You let go of your control telling you to keep your walls up and allowed your sorrow to flow out. It was liberating.Â
Once your tears dried and your heart felt more at peace, you weaved grass blades crowns to spend time until the moon reached its peak.
With utmost care, you moved Silicaâs head from your lap to the ground. Standing up, you threw some logs into the dying fire before making your way to wake up Hunter for his turn.
Chapter 2: Never judge nature too quickly; cuteness can be deadly
Masterlist
Pairing:Â Bad Batch x Reader, not sure which batcher yet though. Tech? Wrecker?
Words:Â 3000 words
Warnings: None
A/N:Â It's been literal years since I've posted chapter 1... I wasn't sure I'd ever post chapter 2, but here we are. Chapter 3 is even half way done. I've fallen down their rabbit hole again, and found myself reminiscing on good ol' 2020 when the BB community was amazing and extra active. It was fun. For those of you still around, this is for you.
Taglist:Â @haloangel391Â Â Â Â Â
____________________
Only one hour in and you were ready to go home. You sighed, dejected. This was going to be a very long four days. The excitement that flowed through you when you first encountered the clone ship quickly died down as soon as one of them started insulting your closest companion. The novelty of meeting outsiders had been both thrilling and slightly nerve wracking, but you soon found out that you had given yourself ideas. Outsiders were disappointingly close minded and held themselves in high regards compared to others. At least, some of them did.Â
You had thought that you could forget about them as soon as you could drop them to Nixâs feet and laugh about your stupid expectations with Raek when you had been tasked with guiding them through the rainforest. For days. There were multiple reasons that this new task of yours made you unhappy, and you wished that the chatterbox behind you had been the bigger reason, but it truly wasnât.Â
At your side, you noticed Raekâs head turning back for the fourth time in the last hour. He was worried, and so were you. The infernal trio guarding your charges was skilled and there was no doubt that they would care for and protect the young ones with all they had, but stepping away for days was something you never wanted to do again. Yet, here you were, and here Raek was, despite your offer for him to stay back with his hatchling. Your heart squeezed just imagining what he was thinking about. You needed a distraction before you turned around and ditched your expedition.
Thankfully, you did not need to search very far.
"So those crystals, why do you need them?" You slowed your step to fall in line with the chatterbox.
"These are no ordinary crystals.â He typed away on his datapad until he reached what he needed and showed the screen to you. The same crystals you found at the cave were shown, although free of any surrounding rockwall. âThey are healing crystals of fire. As it stands, they are considered the most valuable treasure of the Jedi Order. How they came to grow here is an interesting question since their origins are rumored to be from the planet Aurea."
âHuh. If theyâre so valuable, why are you the ones getting it and not the Jedis?â Realizing what you just said, you hurried to correct yourself. âNot that I think youâre-â
Hunter waved off your concerns. âThe Generals are busy on the front lines.âÂ
âThat would only be part of the reason why.â Tech pointed out. âCommand was highly doubtful that this claim was founded. Like I said, healing crystals of fire are said to be from Aurea which is located in the Core worlds, not on Halria in the Outer Rim.â
Suddenly you werenât as regretful of your earlier mishap. âBecause you thought we were lying?âÂ
âTech-â
âBecause intel of this nature coming from primitive worlds tends to be incorrect.âÂ
A scoff burst out of your chest. âYou think I wanted you to come here? I just gave a description of the crystals I found, you guys decided to come here and investigate. Whatever intel you think we gave you, you interpreted it as you saw fit. So if youâre disappointed, thatâs on you.â Was he for real?Â
The engineerâs backpack was grabbed from behind and the bigger guy took his place, looking around in awe, his helmet sitting atop his head like a hat. Wrecker talked about previous missions they were on and how they compared to your world, how the rainforest here was huge, almost like Kashyyk but not the same. You let him do the talking, half-listening and choosing instead to focus on your surroundings. He was chatting loud enough to catch the attention of anything within a kilometer radius, but Raekâs presence was enough to deter a majority of anything that would normally come looking for a snack.Â
A few hours passed where you only participated in Wrecker's endless stream of conversation with short hums and nods before Hunter called for a break. You grabbed your pack from the saddle and waved Raek away. He left, nose to the air in search of prey.Â
Sitting on the ground between tortuous roots as thick as your leg, you pulled your canteen from your backpack and took a swig while watching Wrecker approach you with his own. He sat on your right, copying your movements.Â
âYou ever flown in a ship?â
âCanât say I have, no.âÂ
âYouâre missing something! Being in hyperspace is just something else!â He looked up, a curtain of leaves greeting his eyes. âYou can barely see the sky from down here.â
âYou get used to it.â You chomped into a fruit. âIf we miss the sky so badly, we can just fly up there. You been on a wyvern before?â
Huh. How was it that this man could make you talk more than others could? He managed to enrapture you first when you walked them from their ship to the village and then now. You had to give credits where credits were due, after hours of hearing the man talk, you found that his voice was rather nice to hear. He also was more polite, if anything.Â
âI- eh- I donât like heights.â He reminded you.
âAh. Yeah.â You scratched your neck in embarrassment for having forgotten his fear. âThatâs not something we deal with, sorry.â
âItâs alright! I wish I could ride one actually. It looked fun.â He grinned.
âItâs the best thing.â You confirmed. âThe force of the winds, the adrenaline, the trust you share with your partner, it's exhilarating.âÂ
He hummed. âThat sounds nice.âÂ
âWrecker, stop touching that.â Hunterâs voice was coated in disgust.
You leaned forward to look at what he was referring to. On Wreckerâs other side was a mass of mushrooms.Â
To your bewilderment, Wreckerâs glove was off and he was touching the closest mushroom. His fingers carefully combed through the superficial fuzz before his whole hand went through and he pulled it away to show a couple of sticky strings connecting his hand to the fungi. He beamed in half-disgust, half-amazement.Â
You blinked in shock.
"Look! Worse than the food in the mess!" You snorted while the men shared some amused scoffs. Even the sniper shook his head in what you perceived was amusement. The fact that Wrecker even thought of comparing their sustenance to the slime made you contemplate their living conditions. Perhaps that explained a lot. Did it make you sad? Maybe.
In any case, what was done was done.Â
"Good night mate." Your comment, followed by you lifting your water canteen in salute before taking another swig earned some questioning glances, mostly from the squad leader who perceived your hidden amusement.Â
As if on cue Wreckerâs eyes rolled and he leaned over, sprawling to the ground.
âWrecker!â Echo came running to kneel by his brotherâs side, reaching for a pulse.Â
âHe wonât die from that, donât worry.â You capped your canteen and put it away. âThe toxin of a chimera cap will only make him sleep, nothing serious or life threatening.âÂ
Hunter looked down at the mushroom then at you. You looked right back. If he planned on intimidating you, it wasnât working. Not when you had a three-thousand kilos killing machine walking back into the clearing with his lunch still hot and bleeding between his teeth. âYou knew about this?â
"Why didn't you stop him?" Crosshair sneered next to his brother.
You bristled. Again, asking for warnings. How old were they honestly? And how were you supposed to know he was touching a sleeping mushroom on his opposite side?Â
"I donât babysit humans. You're all supposed to be grown-ups, right? Grown-ups keep their hands to themselves in an environment they don't know." You reminded him. Like hell you would become a human kindergarten overseer. You had enough with managing your own beastly squad at home. You rolled your eyes when he kept staring you down. âHereâs a small bit of advice then; if nature didnât put any effort into hiding it, then it can and probably will kill you.âÂ
âThatâs actually good advice.â Tech approved. He helped Hunter pull their brother out of the roots and laid him on his back.Â
âHow long is he going to be asleep?â Echo looked in your direction.Â
âIf you wash his hand, Iâd say a good hour? Maybe less.â That guy was huge after all.
âRight.â Hunter ran a hand down his face, his eyes glued to the unconscious clone. Echo carefully cleaned the Batcherâs hand with water and gauze. âHow long until sun down?âÂ
âSix hours.âÂ
He looked between the trees, Wrecker and their borrowed weapons.Â
âIf you want to progress while he sleeps it off, we can put him on Raek. Heâll carry him.â You stood up and pat Raekâs side who finished the last of his meal. Hunter shared a look with Echo. âWe can also wait here.â
He pinched the bridge of his nose. âWeâll go forward.âÂ
âRight. Letâs get him on you, âkay?â You pat the green scales again. Raek trotted forward before stopping next to Wrecker and laying down.Â
âHow do you plan on lifting him on his back?âÂ
âWe donât have to get him on his back, just his wing.â You pointed at a spot near the tip of the joint, where his metacarpal met his radius. âWyvern wings arenât that fragile. They still have to hold his weight in the air, so theyâre pretty sturdy and Raek is strong enough to lift Wrecker up, and slide him on his back. Just be careful to not drag your feet.âÂ
âInteresting.â Tech muttered, his own glove was off to touch the leathery wings while you helped drag Wrecker in the right position.Â
You glared at his lack of help while Raek slowly lifted his wing to slide the clone onto his back, right before your saddle. You mounted as he stood and ensured that Wrecker wouldnât slide back down. Once he was secured, you gave a thumbs up to the sergeant.Â
âGood to go.â
He motioned before him. âLead the way.âÂ
_____________
It took less than an hour for Wrecker to stir and twitch. Ever careful, Raek slowed his pace. You reached over towards Wreckerâs shoulder, warning him that he was currently sprawled on Raekâs neck and to take it slow. On cue, his arms tightened around Raek to stabilize himself.
âWh-what happened?â He grumbled.
âIt appears that the fungi you touched had potent soporific properties.â Tech answered. Wrecker blinked down at the engineer in confusion, drowsiness still having a hold of him.
âIt made you fall asleep.â You clarified.Â
âHuh.âÂ
You gave him time to properly wake up and helped him sit more comfortably when he had enough control of himself to stay balanced. From behind him, all you could see was his backplate. This man sure was huge.
âShould I get down?âÂ
You shrugged. âYou can if you want, but we donât mind. Although if you stay, it might be useful for us to trade places.â He looked back at you with a grin.Â
Wrecker turned and lent you a hand, Raek holding up his wing to create a platform for you to step on. He scooted back into the saddle while you plopped down before him.Â
âItâs not flying, but hey, you got to ride a wyvern.â Your lips pulled in a small smile under your helmet. âHow is it? Living up to your expectations?â
âItâs great! Way better than a Blurrg.â In response, Raek straightened, his wings fluttering.
âHeâll take the compliment.âÂ
A rumble shook your mount, showing his satisfaction. The soft sound soon morphed into a harsh growl, prompting you to grab your gunlance. In a practiced motion, you moved into a crouched position, using Wrecker for balance instead of your saddle.Â
A Night Bloom stared from the safety of a crevice, its claws digging into the ground. Its light pink snout betrayed its young age. The way the juvenile hound hesitated showed that it was apprehensive of Raekâs presence, but still wanted a bite out of the bipedal creatures accompanying him. It still lacked experience, but its confidence pushed it to dare the risk. Overconfident younglings were a problem, for themselves and for others. A problem that could be fixed, it was still time for it to learn to not ignore its instincts.Â
The soft brown fur of its underbelly progressively morphed into a vibrant reddish-purple color as it reached both sides of its spine where the buds of flowers started to open. It was truly a sight to behold. That one, you would have understood if Wrecker had wanted to pet it. Hells, you wanted to pet it. Their species had fascinated you for years. It was a shame that these leviathans were way too fierce and independent in nature to tame after their hatchling phase. Your soft spot for cuteness was annoyed.
You opened fire at its feet, scaring it into taking a few steps back. It snarled as you jumped down, hand outstretched towards the clones who had taken defensive positions. If they dared shoot a big baby before your eyes when you had everything under control, youâd be mad. Raek dutifully stayed put, having seen this scene unfold countless times before.
You approached, your steps assured and authoritative. You shot another burst at its feet when it took a step towards you. It recoiled again, getting frustrated. You came to a stop two-meters away, enough to allow you to enter close combat should it be needed, but also close enough to tower over the predator-to-be.Â
Its head reached your midsection, light green eyes staring up at you in a challenge. The colors of its back seemed to brighten under a few sunrays. What held your attention were the short vine-like spinal protrusions on its back rising up in aggression. Venom shot out of its mouth as soon as it jumped for your throat.Â
The venomous spit hit your front in a splatter before you swiftly side stepped the Night Bloom. You rotated to hit it back with the side of your lance, ensuring to put your whole body weight behind the blunt blow. It collided with the ground in a heap and rolled further away. You repositioned yourself in your previous stance, ready to repeat the process and beat a lesson into this kid.Â
Footsteps joined your side, their heavy weight telling you just who it was. With another bigger bipedal figure staring it down, the hound fled into the underbrush.Â
âWhat was that?â Wrecker asked, holding his axe on his shoulder, helmet covering his head as it should be.Â
âA Night Bloom. A lone wolf, so to speak.âÂ
âWhy not kill it?â Crosshair asked, his rifle still aimed towards the general area the Night Bloom retreated in.
You were glad you had lifted your hand to stop them from intervening. âKilling for no reason is wrong.â This was a principle you would never waver on. âI only kill for food or to defend my life or others'.â
âWasnât that defending yourself?â He challenged.
âWe werenât in any real danger. "It was just a baby. And it retreated as soon as it understood we were no prey.â
âAre you positive it was still a baby?â Tech approached, his visor down to his eyes. âMy observations would suggest that this animal was closer to an adult stage than that of an infant.â
You chuckled. He had a point. âIn my book, yeah. A big baby. Theyâre various stages of babies until they reach this size.â You lifted your hand six inches above your head. âThen theyâre big loaves.â Crosshair scoffed.Â
âThis is not factually acceptable.â He looked at you like you had just said the dumbest thing he ever heard. Maybe it was.Â
âIn my world it is.â You shrugged, reaching into your bag still attached to your saddle and pulled an empty vial out of it.Â
âIt wonât come back for us?â Hunter joined your side, his own Orixus sword in hand. You couldnât help but notice how well the blade matched with his armor.Â
âNo.â You assured him, busy scraping the brownish-green venom sticking to your chestplate into the vial with a knife. âIt was still young enough to learn what is food and what isnât.âÂ
âGood enough for me.â He put away his weapon. âAnd what is that?âÂ
âVenom.â
He paused. âAnd youâre collecting it because?â The wariness in his voice was amusing.
âFor future use.â You ignored Tech who had approached to get a look at the substance. âIt constricts the branching airways in your lungs-â
âBronchioles.â You ignored that too.
â-and you have a hard time to breathe in under a couple minutes.â
âDyspnea.âÂ
You breathed deeply, carefully and softly closing the vial. âUntil you canât anymore.â
âRespiratory failure.â Your hand tightened around the vial. âFascinating.â
âUsed in smaller doses, it can help with chronic joint pain.â
He hummed. âArthritis. The venom must have anti-inflammatory or analgesic properties. Perhaps even both.âÂ
You heard your patience die a painful death. You looked at him, not certain if you were glad that your helmet hid the annoyance in your eyes. Or perhaps it was murderous intent, you werenât too sure anymore. âAnd big doses can kill you.â
âYou have already detailed as mu-â Echo pulled his brother away before you had half a mind of testing the power of the young Night Bloomâs venom.Â
âIs he a datapad on legs or what?â You mumbled under your breath.
âYou have no idea.â Hunterâs hand fell on your shoulder in a light pat. Was it sympathising? It sure felt like it.
âFour days, huh.â You were already dreaming of being back home. With a sigh, you resumed walking towards your destination, way too many klicks away.
