Pairing: Crosshair x Reader
Warnings: None
A/N: Heyo! Here is part two as requested!
Back on Pabu, Crosshair discovers that despite everything, he was never forgotten.
The walk back to your new home on Pabu was a blur. One moment you were standing out on the cliffs and the next you were somehow at your front door with Crosshair beside you. The door creaked softly as you pushed it open and stepped inside. The house was still new to you in many ways. You'd been living there for a while now, but there were still moments when you caught yourself looking around and thinking, This is mine. It wasn't large. The main room flowed into a small kitchen area, with a narrow hallway leading toward the sleeping space. Simple furniture filled the room, most of it built by hand by Pabu's residents. Warm light from the setting sun cast soft golden shadows across the walls. Crosshair entered behind you and quietly shut the door. You watched him as he moved slowly through the room, taking everything in. "I know it's not much," you begun as you twiddled your thumbs, "but its home." He cocked his head slightly as he spoke," it's nice." The words made warmth spread through your chest.
You followed him as he toured you home, ending up in the bedroom. Crosshair's attention was drawn to the bedside table. Resting beside the lamp was a small wooden tooka figure. The carving had aged over the years. The wood was a little worn and there was a small scratch on one side, but it was still unmistakably the same one. The same one Crosshair has spent hours carving during a hyperspace jump a few years ago. He recalled you teasing him about the proportions when he'd given it to you. Slowly, he crossed the room and picked it up. For a long time moment, he simply stared at it. "You kept this?" His voice was quiet. "Of course I did." His eyes flicked towards you briefly before returning to the carving. His thumb brushed across its surface, tracing the marks he'd made. Carefully, he set it back down on the table.
Crosshair turned to the bed. The mattress dipped beneath his weight as he sat on the edge of the bed, his arms resting as his sides. His eyes were focused on the quilt below him as fingers traced the intricate patterns of the fabric. You eyed him for a moment, then pushed off the doorframe you had been leaning on. In two slow strides you crossed the room. His head lifted as you stopped directly in front of him. Crosshair stared up at you, his brown eyes searching your face with uncertainty. It was as if he was waiting for the inevitable moment you decided this had been a mistake. You could practically see the doubt lingering behind his eyes. The fear. The expectation that sooner of later you would tell him to leave.
Instead, you reached for him. Your hand rose slowly, giving him a chance to pull away if needed. He didn't. The moment your palm settled against his cheek his eyes fluttered shut. The reaction was so instinctive that it stole the air from your lungs. Your thumb brushed gently across his cheekbone. Beneath your touch, you felt the roughness of scared skin, the warmth of him, and the subtle shaky breath he released. Crosshair leaned into your hand before he could stop himself.
His hand slowly lifted from his lap and closed around your wrist. Not to move you away, but to hold you there. His fingers curled carefully against your skin. You watched his throat bob as he swallowed. When his eyes finally opened again, his face had softened. "I love you, Cyar'ika." That's all that it took for the tears you had been holding in to slip down your cheeks. Your other hand came up to caress the other side of his face. A relieved breath escaped him. Then his arms slid around his waist, pulling you forward until you were standing between his knees. You melted into his instantly, your own arms sliding around his shoulders as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. Crosshair held you tightly against him. One arm was on your hip and the other pressed against your back. Your fingers slipped into his hair. The silver strands were softer than you remembered. Gently, you combed your hand through them, pushing them back form his face. Crosshair sighed into you, puffing warm air into your collarbone. The reaction made your chest ache with affection. For all his sharp edges and stubborn pride, he's always melted beneath simple acts of tenderness. His forehead brushed against the side of your neck as he tilted closer, seeking more of your touch. A smile tugged at your lips. "I love you too," you mumbled against his hair as you placed a kiss.
After a bit, he finally pulled back just enough to look at you. His hand rose immediately, thumb brushing under your eye. The pad of it caught the trail of the tears that still lingered there. His brows pulled together at the sight of them. "Hey," he spoke quietly. His hand slipped behind your neck, guiding your forward long enough for him to press a kiss against your forehead. Then he leaned back against the mattress, never letting go of you. "Come here." You didn't need to be told twice. Crosshair tugged you down with him until you were both stretched across the bed. You curled closer, resting your head against his chest.
It wasn't long before sleep had begun to pull you under, your eyes growing heavier with every slow stroke of his hand along your back. Nestled safely in his arms, you let yourself drift off, lulled by the steady rhythm of his breathing and the warmth of his embrace.
Pairing: Crosshair x Reader
Warnings: None
A/N: first writing on here in a while, lets see how this goes :)
When Omega finally returns home, everyone is relieved. Everyone except you. Because standing beside her is the last person you ever expected to see again: Crosshair.
By all means, you were thrilled to have Omega back safely. The relief that swept through you when the shuttle finally touched down on Ryloth was enough to make your knees weak. For days, an uncomfortable knot of worry had sat in your chest, tightening every time another lead went cold or another plan failed to bring her home. Seeing her emerge from the ship unharmed loosened that knot almost instantly. Hunter looked relieved as well, though he tried to hide it behind his usual calm demeanor. Wrecker made no such attempt, letting out a laugh of pure joy as he hurried forward to wrap Omega in a crushing hug that nearly lifted her off her feet. The sight should have been enough to occupy all of your attention.
Instead, your gaze drifted past her. The moment Crosshair appeared at the top of the ramp, every other thought seemed to fade into the background. The sounds around you dulled until they felt distant and muted, as though someone had lowered the volume on the entire world. You couldn't look away from him. Months had passed since you'd last seen him, yet you recognized every detail immediately. He looked thinner than you remembered. The sharp angles of his face were more pronounced, and there was a noticeable exhaustion etched into his features that hadn't been there before. His posture remained rigid out of habit, shoulders squared and back straight in the way years of military training demanded, but the confidence that once accompanied that stance seemed diminished. There was a heaviness to him now, something weary and worn that lingered beneath the surface. You hated how quickly you noticed those things.
After everything that had happened, after all the anger and frustration you'd carried for months, part of you had expected seeing him again to be easier. You had imagined yourself feeling vindicated, perhaps even indifferent. Instead, the sight of him standing there stirred emotions you had spent far too long trying to suppress.
You hated it. Hated how quickly concern replaced anger. Hated how your first instinct wasn't to turn away. But nevertheless, your feet remained firmly planted where you stood. Every part of you knew you should move. Say something. Do something. Yet your body refused to cooperate. The distance between you wasn't far, but it felt impossible to cross. There were too many unanswered questions, wounds left open, and emotions tangled together for you to make sense of. Crosshair's gaze finally lifted. For one brief moment, his eyes met yours. The world seemed to narrow around that single point of contact. Then, almost immediately, he looked away. His gaze dropped toward the ground as though it physically hurt to look at you. You weren't surprised. The guilt radiating from him was impossible to miss.
Crosshair had never been particularly expressive, but you knew him well enough to recognize what lay beneath the surface. The shame hung around him like a physical weight, pressing down on him from all sides. It reminded you of the oppressive heat Ryloth was known for during the height of the day; relentless and impossible to escape. You couldn't stand there any longer. Without a word, you turned on your heel and headed for the Marauder. The metal ramp echoed beneath your boots as you climbed aboard. Each step felt strangely heavy. You kept your gaze fixed ahead, refusing to look back.
Behind you, Crosshair watched you disappear into the ship and a familiar ache settled in his chest. He wasn't sure what he'd expected. Realistically, he knew things couldn't simply go back to the way they had been. Too much time had passed. Too much damage had been done. Even so, seeing you walk away without a word stung more than he cared to admit. Throughout the journey back, he had found himself imagining this reunion despite knowing better. In none of those imagined conversations had you welcomed him with open arms, but there had always been words. Anger. Frustration. Demands for answers. Something.
Hunter and Wrecker exchanged brief glances before following after you. Neither brother said anything as they passed him. The tension hanging in the air was obvious enough without anyone pointing it out. Hunter simply gave Crosshair a measured look before continuing toward the ship. Omega lingered for a moment longer. When Crosshair finally glanced in her direction, she offered him a small smile. "You coming?" she asked softly. Crosshair glanced toward the ship. After a moment, he nodded, "Yeah."
Omega waited until he started moving before heading up the ramp herself. Left with little choice but to follow, Crosshair released a slow breath and climbed aboard the Marauder. The familiar interior greeted him immediately. The scent of machinery, worn metal, and recycled air was exactly as he remembered. It should have felt comforting. Instead, it only served as a reminder of how much had changed. His eyes found you almost instantly. You were seated in the pilot's chair, staring straight ahead at the navigation console. Whether you had heard him board or not, he couldn't tell. You didn't move. Didn't turn around. Didn't acknowledge his presence in any way. Crosshair's jaw tightened.
Wordlessly, he made his way toward the bunk that had once been his. For a moment, he simply stood there. The bunk looked exactly as it always had. Looking at it now, however, felt strange. He had imagined returning so many times that the reality seemed almost unreal. Slowly, he removed the outer layer of clothing he had been wearing and folded it with practiced precision. Once finished, he set the neatly folded garments at the foot of the bunk before lowering himself onto the mattress. The bunk creaked softly beneath his weight. Crosshair leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he stared at the floor.
After a moment, he lifted his head and glanced toward the cockpit. The soft blue glow of the navigation console illuminated the edges of your figure. Your attention appeared fixed entirely on the controls, fingers moving across familiar switches and buttons as you prepared the Marauder for departure. A hand dragged slowly over his face as he leaned back in the bunk and closed his eyes for a moment. The familiar sounds of the Marauder surrounded him; the low hum of the engines and the occasional beep from one of the ship's systems. They were sounds he had once taken for granted.
A soft set of footsteps drew his attention a short while later. Crosshair opened his eyes and turned his head just enough to see Omega making her way through the ship. The overhead lights had been dimmed for the evening, leaving most of the Marauder bathed in soft shadows broken only by the glow of various control panels. Omega slowed when she reached his bunk, lingering there for a moment as though trying to decide whether she should say something. In the end, she settled for a "Goodnight." After everything that had happened, Omega had welcomed him back with a kindness he wasn't entirely convinced he deserved. "Night, kid." Omega grinned as she continued on her way. A moment later, the curtain slid shut, and the ship fell quieter once more.
One by one, the others eventually turned in for the night. Wrecker passed through first, offering Crosshair an awkward nod before disappearing toward his bunk. Hunter lingered longer, moving through his usual routine. When he finally finished, his eyes briefly met Crosshair's. Neither seemed particularly interested in forcing a conversation that neither was ready to have. After a moment, Hunter simply turned away and headed for his quarters.
Crosshair remained awake. Sleep should have come easily after everything that had happened. His body was exhausted. Every muscle ached from days spent fighting his way back. The lingering effects of Tantiss still clung to him no matter how much distance now separated him from that mountain. Yet every time he closed his eyes, his thoughts dragged him back to the same place. To you. Eventually exhaustion won the battle. Not even bothering to pull the cover over himself, Crosshair rolled onto his side and reluctantly drifted off to sleep.
The following days passed painfully slow. Life on Pabu settled back into its familiar routine almost immediately. Repairs needed to be finished and the villagers always seemed to have another project that required an extra set of hands. You threw yourself into all of it with a determination that bordered on stubbornness. If your hands were busy, your mind had less opportunity to wander. At least, that was the idea. In reality, it worked far less effectively than you would have liked. No matter what task occupied your attention, your thoughts inevitably drifted back to the same person.
You saw him often enough to make things difficult but not enough to make them easier. Sometimes he was helping Hunter repair equipment near the docks. Other times he accompanied Omega through the village or disappeared for hours at a time. Whenever your paths crossed, neither of you spoke. There would be a brief glance and then one of you would look away. By the end of the week, you were thoroughly tired of the entire situation. You were helping sort supplies near the harbor when the frustration finally reached its limit. After spending nearly an hour reorganizing crates, you slammed the lid of one shut harder than intended. The sharp crack echoed across the dock. Several nearby villagers glanced over before quickly returning to their work.
You dragged a hand through your hair and exhaled heavily. This ridiculous stalemate had gone on long enough. Crosshair had spent months living in your thoughts whether you wanted him there or not. Now he was standing only a few hundred meters away most days, and somehow neither of you had managed a proper conversation. Before you could second-guess yourself, you abandoned the crate and went looking for him. Finding Omega proved easier than finding Crosshair. The moment you asked if she'd seen him, a knowing smile appeared on her face, "He's up on the western cliffs," she said,"He goes there a lot." You nodded, thanking her before turning away.
The path leading toward the cliffs wound through the quieter parts of the island. Colorful homes gradually gave way to rocky terrain and sparse vegetation. The further you traveled from the village, the more distant the sounds of everyday life became. The bustle of the marketplace faded until they were replaced by little more than the steady rush of wind and the distant crash of waves below.
Eventually, the path narrowed as it climbed higher along the cliffs overlooking the ocean. The late afternoon sun had begun its slow descent toward the horizon, painting the sky in soft shades of orange and pink. The sea stretched endlessly beyond the island, its surface glittering beneath the fading light. It didn't take long to spot him. Leaned against a rocky outcrop stood Crosshair. His rifle laid on the ground a few feet away.
For a moment, you remained where you were. The water below masked the sound of your approach completely. Crosshair hadn't noticed you. His attention remained fixed on the horizon. Without armor, he looked different. The civilian clothes suited him more than you expected. The setting sun painted warm colors across his features, replacing the harsh shadows you had grown accustomed to seeing. You really didn't need another reminder that he looked good, especially not when you were supposed to be angry with him. Drawing a slow breath, you cleared your throat. Crosshair's head turned sharply toward the sound. The moment his eyes found yours your heartbeat pick up.
The ocean thundered against the cliffs below, sending sprays of white foam against the rocks. The breeze carried the scent of salt through the air, tugging lightly at your clothes and hair. Yet all of it seemed distant compared to the weight of his gaze. You noticed his eyes flick briefly toward your hands before returning to your face. Then your shoulders. Your expression. Taking in every detail. Crosshair had always been observant. Now it felt less like observation and more like he couldn't help himself.
"Didn't think you'd come looking for me," he said quietly. His voice was rougher than you remembered, worn thin by everything he'd endured. The words weren't defensive. If anything, they sounded almost resigned. As though he'd convinced himself long ago that you wouldn't. You folded your arms across your chest to keep your hands occupied. "Neither did I." The honesty slipped out before you could stop it. A humorless laugh escaped you afterward. "I've spent the last week trying not to." Crosshair's gaze lowered briefly. You watched the muscles in his throat work as he swallowed. "You were doing a good job of it." His voice remained calm, but there was something beneath it. Something that sounded suspiciously like disappointment. "You think I wanted this?" you asked, frustration finally beginning to crack through the wall you'd built around yourself. "You think ignoring you has been easy?" His eyes lifted immediately at that. The question hung between you. Because despite the months apart and the damage he'd caused, both of you knew the answer. Neither of you had found any of this easy.
Crosshair stared at you for several seconds before speaking again. "No." The single word came quietly. "I don't." The simplicity of it caught you off guard. There was no argument or attempt to defend himself. No accusation thrown back your way. Somehow that made the anger simmering inside you harder to hold onto. "Then why?" Months of frustration poured into those two words. "Why did you leave? Why did you keep choosing them? Why didn't you come back?" Crosshair looked away again as his brows furrowed "I don't have a good answer." You laughed bitterly. "That's not an answer at all." "I know."
The conversation died off for a moment. Crosshair dragged a hand across the back of his neck. When he finally spoke again, his voice was low enough that you almost missed it. "I thought I was doing the right thing." His gaze remained fixed on the water. "And then after a while..." He stopped, jaw tightening. "After a while I wasn't sure how to come back." Something twisted in your chest. Because you could hear the struggle in his voice. The self-loathing rooted in every word. Crosshair had always carried his burdens alone. Always convinced himself he deserved whatever pain came his way. It was one of the things you'd loved about him and hated about him in equal measure. "You could've tried," you said quietly. "I would've listened." That made him face you once more. His face held a raw pain, "Would you?" he asked.
You opened your mouth to answer and then stopped. Because the truth was complicated. Months ago, you probably wouldn't have listened. You'd been furious and heartbroken because you were convinced he didn't care enough to stay. . But standing here now, seeing the exhaustion in his eyes and the weight he'd been carrying alone, you couldn't honestly say you would've turned him away forever. "Eventually," you admitted, "I would've." "I never stopped thinking about you."
For a long moment neither of you moved. Then cautiously, you stepped closer. The distance between you shrank by only a few feet, but it felt monumental "You're an idiot," you said softly. Crosshair blinked, "I've been told that before." Despite yourself, a small laugh escaped you. The sound seemed to surprise both of you and something warm flickered briefly across his face. Not quite a smile, but close enough.
"You hurt me," you continued, the humor fading. "More than anyone ever has."
Crosshair lowered his gaze, "I know."
"And I'm still angry."
"You should be."
"And I don't know if I can just pretend none of it happened."
"I'm not asking you to."
The two of you now stood right in front of each other. You couldn't stand the space between you any longer. Grabbing the front of his shirt, you tugged him down toward you, and the second your lips met, every thought vanished. The kiss was messy and desperate, driven more by emotion than precision. It carried all the frustration and longing that had built up during your time apart. Crosshair immediately melted into it, his hands finding your waist to pull you flush against him. One of your hands slid beneath the hem of his shirt. The touch pulling a groan from him.
The kiss broke soon after as you both stood there panting. Neither of you moved far, reluctant to give up the closeness you'd both missed for so long. Crosshair rested his forehead against yours and let out a quiet breath, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.
"Never leaving you again," he murmured as he embraced you once more.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
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