this is probably my favorite piece to date, the emotions, the way i wrote it-
i cannot explain to you how proud of myself i am :)
i know we all just fell in love with Captain Howzer, but Ner Ram’ser still has ahold of my heart :) ❤️ Once again, if you wanna be added to the taglist, just let me know in the comments ☺️
Wolffe encouraged for me to write this because of how i said Crosshair would smell like the ocean, and i just need to get my feels out :) i also used some word prompts for this, so please…
enjoy :) 🥰❤️
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Crosshair x GN!Reader Drabble: He was gone all the time. It felt so… empty. Some days you even wondered if he wasn’t just a figment of your imagination. Some days he came home, in the doorway to your apartment, pulling you into the living room, arms wrapping around you. Those days were the days you knew he was real.
Genre: Fluff, and a tad bit of angst, but not a ton, I promise.
Warnings: None, besides established relationship, but not mentioned
Word Count: 1,033 words, 5,633 characters
*Disclaimer: I do not own anything relating to the Star Wars universe, nor do I own anything relating to the Clone Wars universe. I do not own any characters, places, or things unless they are of my own creation.*
Picture is from Pinterest
Word Prompts: Cuddly, Warm, & Soft
(Proofread)
//
I am so scared that some days you don’t even exist. But then you walk through the door, and I know it’s going to be okay. - Moons
//
// In The Tide Of Warmth //
//
It was the days when he came home, home in your arms, to your sweet kisses and languid touches. Where you would open the door of your apartment, hope bubbling in your stomach that perhaps it was the one you had been waiting for all this time. Tearful gazes and arms thrown around necks. Cradled bodies against the other, and a whisper that came from his lips:
“I’m home, my love. I’m home.”
Those were Crosshair’s favorite days.
They were yours too.
He had come home late in the night, the Coruscant traffic glowing through the bay windows of your apartment in the night. The sky was blue, deep in the hue, lighting the sky with a color that looked like that blue that was reflected off of a raven’s wings. Pearly stars scattered the night, neon greens and cherry reds from signs all around.
Then there was the warmth.
He had instantly led you right to the living room, clinging you to his chest in his moment of need. For you.
There would always be a void in your relationship with the sniper. He, away in active battlefields and war zones. You, tucked safely away in your apartment, going down to the farmer’s market in your neighborhood every Thursday.
It was an ache in his heart, one that he carried as soon as he left the threshold of you, his home. One that Hunter felt when he met his brother the next morning in the barracks. One that kept his eyes open as his brothers slept peacefully around him at night, unaware that he was missing his own peace.
One that stayed in the muscle behind his ribcage until he came home once again. One that was staved off in the short time you two were able to be in the other’s embrace.
The void couldn’t be filled, but you made the most of the little time you received with him. Always.
It was in your living room, the one that had shadows casted on the floor from the signs outside, where you clung to the other.
Swaying oh so gently. No music, but then again you never needed music. The traffic outside of the glass was music in itself. Shouts and beeps, the rushing of engines and motors clunking.
Warm. Your nose nestled into his neck as it had so many times before, his hands wrapped around your back, fingers softly tracing your waist. Your fingertips gently play with the curls in his hair. Supple lips pressed delicately to your collarbone, then your neck, resting for a short time on your shoulder before repeating the cycle anew.
It was quiet, save for the music of speeders coming through the walls. An occasional mumble, tired, soft hums. There was no battlefield here. No aching hearts here.
Only serendipity.
“I made cookies earlier.”
It was a whisper from you, barely audible.
A quiet chuckle, one that barely reached your ears. A smile on your lips, unknown to him. You begin to pull away to grab the treats you had baked in the early afternoon, the grip on your waist tightening.
“No, no yet.”
You could have cried at that moment. The guard he had so meticulously built around everyone else, including his brothers, falling before your eyes as you snuggled your way back onto his arms.
You breathed in his scent, the smell of blaster fire filling your nose. Even in your home, in his arms, the battlefield still lingered. Always waiting, watching. Never quite leaving you. Or him for that matter.
There was something else.
It was a breezy aroma, one that reminded you all too well of the planet he had come from, one he told you that haunted his dreams.
It wasn’t a bad smell though.
It was… comforting.
“You smell like the ocean.”
The swaying did not stop, nor did his soft touches, but the kisses halted. Breath hitched, lodged in his throat.
“Is- is that bad?”
You pull back from his neck, missing the fragrance instantly. It was a nervous gaze that met yours. Scared, unsure.
It was a quiet laugh and the softening of your heart as you gazed back at him.
“No, it smells like you. Reminds me of you as a person.”
“Oh?”
It was a soft giggle from your mouth, a smile that almost struck him straight through the heart before your explanation finally came.
“The ocean is rough, right? Perhaps a bit mysterious? When people first meet you, you’re mysterious and a little rough.”
You chuckle softly once again, but you don’t miss the way his eyes look fearful, panic quick to swoop in.
Your reassurance comes faster.
“After a while though, the ocean calms down. It becomes serene. You open up, you’re funny and nice-”
“Nice?”
It was a soft smile from you that made his eyebrow raise higher.
“Yes… you’re sweet.”
He was sure the butterflies in his stomach were stuck in his lungs.
You smiled at him sweetly. Sweetly. Just like you said he was. Out of all the words you could have chosen, he didn’t expect the one you did choose.
He loved it.
“Well, I think you're sweet too. Very beautiful, and… sweet.”
A sutter in your heart, some beats skipped. Neither of you were quite sure who leaned in first, or who nuzzled their nose against the other’s.
What you did know was that when your lips met, it was pure bliss.
Lips that were a tad chapped captured yours, soft and gentle. Slow, he took his time, just like always. It was his way of trying to savor every feeling he got, the feelings of which he carried in his bones while he was away.
It was him that pulled away, nestling himself back into the crevice between your neck and shoulder. It was you who cuddled back into his hold, pulled so close that your hearts beat as one.
Swaying oh so gently, with the scent of salty waters filling your nose. The nightly traffic continued, but the stars still shone bright in the night sky.
Shining softly on two lovers, gently swaying in the moonlight.
//
taglist: @loth-wolffe @dreamingofclones @ahsokasleftbicep @hellothere-generalangsty @and-claudia @monako-jinn-stories @teletraan-meets-jarvis @kybacrystal
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I’m in bed all snuggled up and I feel lonely……do you by any chances have any snips of Crosshair snuggles(with Delana or bebe Asher u choose❤️) I’ma sleep now g’niiiight lovey💕💕💕
Loneliness is a real bitch, I’m sorry it’s got you down. It’s been a lonely day for me, too. Thank goodness for Cross’buir amiright. Lol.
I’ll do you one better. How about Crosshair snuggles with Dee AND baby Asher. :)
———
“I can’t believe he’s six months old already.”
“Mhm,” Crosshair makes a noncommittal sound of agreement, too intoxicated with the sight of his small son snuggled between them as he traces the delicate contours of his face. Asher makes a small cooing sound in his sleep. Even though he’s frowning.
“Crosshair.”
Crosshair flickers his gaze up to his wife, laying across from him.
“Are you listening to me?”
“Every word.”
Delana’s lip twitches. “I said, he’s got your frown, even in sleep.”
Crosshair looks back down to their son. He sees it, the sharp corners of Asher’s lips curved steeply into a frown and not indicative of the way he sleeps ever so soundly. He’s such an easy baby. Perfect in every way.
“You know, if we were Hunter and Cyare, we’d already have another one on the way.”
“But we’re not, and we don’t.”
Delana chews her lip slowly, weighing his words, and choosing her next ones carefully.
“Could you see it, though?
Crosshair lifts his gaze to hers. “See what.”
“You know,” she reaches out and caresses their little guy’s face. “Another Asher.”
Crosshair straightens in the bed, just a bit, propped up on one elbow and looming protectively over Ash. His eyes never leaving his.
He hums after a long moment. “Maybe. Not now, though.” His fingers wrestle with hers for space on the Ramser’ika’s face. “I’m trying to find something about him that looks like you.”
Dee chuckles softly. “He’s handsome. That’s all you.”
“No..”
“Yes.” She leans across Asher and kisses him on the cheek. “Accept it.”
“Never.”
“Shhh..” Delana chides, barely containing her laughter as Asher stirs slightly beneath them. They watch intently as their Ramser’ika settles again with no fret or stress.
“He’s perfect,” Crosshair decides. “That’s all you.”
Delana can’t help but roll her eyes. “Really? That’s what you’re going with?”
“Take it or leave it.”
“I’ll take it,” she cranes her neck down and kisses Asher’s soft cheek. “I love you, my Little Sniper. You have the best daddy ever.”
Crosshair can’t fight the way his chest swells. “That’s not fair.”
Delana just grins at him and he swears his heart melts.
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Lil I'm ready for all the soft domestic Crosshair in the universe
“You need to sleep.” Her warm voice comes as a murmur against his temple, there in the blissful silence as he lays reclined back on the sofa with a baby draped delicately over his shoulder; which, speaking of sleep, the one-week-old Ramser’ika is unbelievably sound in. Crosshair nearly hums at the contact but it’s already gone as Delana is circling around in front of him. In the thick shadows of the living room, Crosshair can make out his wife’s silhouette with ease.
“I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”
The chrono just shy of 02:30, Delana chooses to ignore him. “It’s time for him to eat,” she supplies instead.
If it were even possible, Crosshair’s grip on his newborn tightens even further.
“You can have him right back,” Dee inveigles, and he doesn’t miss the amusement in her voice. “C’mon.”
Crosshair feels just a bit like a kid being asked to hand over his most prized possession - in which case, is his newborn son. With utmost petulance, he transfers over the itty-bitty Ramser’ika, and stands so that Delana can take his seat.
“I’m not going to sleep,” he voices needlessly, in his defense; the overwhelming desire to ensure to himself (and his wife) that he will be right here, by her side through the night.
Delana feigns an exasperated sigh, but he can hear the smile, the oh-so tired smile playing on her lips as she eases herself carefully - mindful of her surgery scars - down onto the cushion. “I hope your son doesn’t inherit your stubbornness.”
Crosshair’s got a sure, steady hold on her. Through the exhaustion that’s currently a conduit between them, he has to chuckle. “My devilish charm, maybe.”
“Mm. Maybe.”
Crosshair presses a kiss to her forehead as she settles back, and he silently waits for a cue, any cue - more specifically, as to when he can find himself cradling his son once again.
“If you’re not going to sleep,” There it is. “Make yourself useful and come hold me.”
Crosshair’s movements are immediate as he takes up a spot next to her on the couch, bringing his legs up and turning his body so that he’s long-ways and spanning across the cushions. He maneuvers his wife and child between his legs, gently bringing Delana’s head back to his chest while the baby latches onto her below. His arms worm around her middle, and settle underneath her arms, cradling Asher. “How about I hold you both.”
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Crosshair and Dee sneaking away to watch some Holo after the Huntlings are all asleep (that’s really all they’re doing don’t worry, they’re too tired to do anything else😂😂) and they’re snuggled up together on the sofa, Delana tucked against his side as Crosshair sits upright, fading in and out of sleep when the baby of the bunch suddenly cries out.
Of course they’re racing in there in an instant to find the toddler with her eyes shut tight, crying out for her Papa from what Crosshair quickly realizes to be the throes of a nightmare.
Crosshair scoops her up, steadily, careful not to startle her further as he brings her close with tentative shushing while Delana is quickly checking on the other sleeping girls in the bed.
“Papa…” she whimpers weakly, her little lip quivering, still refusing to open her eyes as she clings to the warm male figure in her life.
Crosshair cuddles her close. “Not Papa. Uncle Cross.”
“Babo…”
“That’s right,” Crosshair breathes as she turns inward into his chest, her breaths coming a little more even now. He strokes her sweaty, matted hair. “Babo’s here.”
Instead of lying her back down in the bed, Crosshair takes her out to the living room and rocks with her until she fully settles so that she doesn’t wake her sisters (also so that he can finish watching this rifle infomercial XD). She is a little more than stimulated by the bright screen however, so she actually perks up a bit while Crosshair ends up falling back asleep. XD
Cue baby Huntling sitting bright-eyed atop his chest, watching the commercial intently while Dee is stroking her hair in a valiant effort to soothe her back to sleep as Crosshair snores softly. XD
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