Stardust9905

5. Dacryphilia / Overstimulation, morning sex, established relationship, Crosshair is soft asf in this (and lowk a bottom), not as sexually descript; can read for a G/N reader

 A breeze passed into the room from the veranda, billowing sheer white chiffon with a soft rustle, carrying with it the salt of the foamy ocean at the foot of the mountain. Past the billowing curtains, you could've heard it if you focused hard enough, the distant roar of the tide crashing into black rocks, a cool spray against your skin under the beating sun. It cascaded into the room in rays, soft and warm like the underbelly of a loth-kit, gently toasting the crumpled sheets and keeping the allure of sleep attractive to you. Your cheek had been pressed into your lover's clavicle, just above his beating breast that rose and fell as he slept with quiet puffs of air from parted lips.

 You'd been so reluctant to rouse him, much less leave the bed. He still faintly smelled like the beach from yesterday, his trip to the shore with Omega and Batcher had been an impulsive one on their part, telepathically communicated after they'd all had supper at Shep's. You hung back to help clean up, and you'd gotten out of the 'fresher by the time Cross came back all salty and damp, his shoulders and nose were still tinged pink.

 Your insistent fight against consciousness had been moot as soon as Crosshair roused awake and sighed into your hair. His arms went around you as he rolled over, breathing you in deeply before a yawn peeled him away.

 "Y'smell like warm laundry," he mumbled sleepily, eyes barely open as he kept his long arms strewn over you. Your fingers found his own, bringing his left hand back around to place a kiss on his knuckles as his right arm strapped across your back and pulled you in close.

 Tucking your head into his neck, you breathed in with an open-mouthed kiss to Crosshair's throat, paving a slow path upwards to his pulse as you hummed your agreement. "N' you still taste like the beach," you remarked, kitten-licking the seasalt from his skin as Crosshair turned his head into your hair, untangling his fingers from your own to sweep his hand down your bare arm.

 "I'm not getting up to wash," Cross slurred his remark, a smile breaking his features as one of your thighs pressed up between his legs. You'd seldom not give him a reason to wash in the morning.

 Crosshair was his most-pliable when he awoke. Delirious and groggy, he was notoriously needy, pawing at you wherever he could reach. Maker knew you took advantage of it -- everyone knew to stay out of your wing of the home until after high-noon for that reason.

 "As of right now, I'm not getting up at all," you challenged with snark, earning yourself a swat on your thigh as Crosshair scoffed, bringing your leg over his own as his head ducked to nip the mole on your shoulder.

 "Oh, well, good," Crosshair smirked bringing his hand down between you to cup you, humming contentedly when you rolled your hot sex into his palm. "I wasn't planning on it."

 You swung your leg the rest of the way over Crosshair's hips, bracing your weight on his chest as his good hand guided you down. Crosshair occupied himself with mapping out your naked form in the golden rays of morning, a glitter of dust in the light only adding an ethereal haze to your weary, tired appearance. As he did, you reached down to take him by the wrist of his right hand, stroking your palm over the tender scars where his right hand used to be.

 It was a clean cut through the ligament, not as ugly as the reminder that it bore. Crosshair had grown used to it over time, he'd even gotten around to joking about it now, just last night, he used one of Omega's hairties to fashion a fork to the end of his hand like a hook for a laugh around the table when they all brought up missing Echo.

 Despite his coming-around, you knew it still gave him trouble. Phantom-pains and random aches, you'd catch him in your periphery, rubbing away at the old scars with a distant look in his eyes. Prosthetics were out of the question for Crosshair, and he worried about the complications and maintenance that came with an exposed cybernetic limb -- even if you claimed you wouldn't mind helping him out with it.

 Even if it made him uncomfortable, you ensured he was taken care of; It was enough to make a vet like him ache under his breast.

 "I'd prefer it if you stroked me like that somewhere else," Crosshair snarked from below, replacing his hand on your thigh after adjusting the pillows behind his head. You were as aroused as he was, that much was painfully obvious as you entertained him with a slight cant of your hips into his hardening cock.

 You'd sputter a raspberry with a snicker, taking a moment to map out Crosshair's chest and abdomen, lean, dappled in varying scars and the occasional mole or freckle, tracing paths over him with your nails like a harvester raking over a ripened field, leaving white scores that quickly faded. It made him squirm, a seasoned veteran and a former commando, writhing in an attempt to notch his hardening cock against you while blushing like a virgin under your careful attention.

 "Don't make this weird," you chastised, rolling your thumbs over his nipples as they hardened against the warm air, goosepimples blooming across his skin in the wake of your feather-like touch.

 Crosshair would blow-off your statement with an audible snort, turning the course of his palm over your stomach to your opposite hip, grabbing ahold of you for leverage as he planted his feet and canted his hips up, throwing you off-balance to brace a hand beside his head. "I love waking up to this," he mumbled, nosing between your breasts as his hand splayed across your back, scraping open-mouthed kisses into your sternum. He never would've began to guess that this was his life, now.

 Settled on some backwater planet with his brothers and sister, absolved from the Empire's torment for a few years now. He'd only just began to sleep through the whole night without a smoke, or being roused by a night-terror.

 That was all courtesy of you.

 His routines, his personal maintenance, and just the smallest, most trivial things -- you kept them at the forefront of your mind. You'd only known each other for a few months prior to the beginning of your involvement, starting with casual conversations in passing that you always initiated. Over time, Crosshair got over himself, took Hunter's advice for once, and risked the swan-dive.

 It was the best decision he'd made yet.

 You were everything he believed he wasn't, in spite of your protests otherwise.

 "It's a wonder how you get anything done around here," you deadpanned, bringing a hand up to stroke his short curls away, leaning down to kiss the scarred edge of Crosshair's temple as he mouthed at your breast, seeking out your nipple to pull it between his teeth. The sensation brought a sharp gasp to your lips, pressing your nose to his hairline, "I'm starting to think you don't care to get anything done at all."

 Crosshair replied with an affirming hum as he sealed his lips around the areola of your teat, rolling his tongue over you for a few long moments before moving to switch. "Not much else I'd prefer to do all day rather than you," he japed as he caught your other nipple in his mouth, humming as your hand passed over his head again, eyes rolling shut.

 "Perv," you chortled. Instead of disputing your claim, Crosshair's hand left your back to swat your ass to make you jolt into his mouth -- the sting coming after the sound of the impact. No, he simply hummed his agreement into your skin as he minutely chafed his dry cock into your thigh.

 With a chastising 'tsk,' you moved back in Crosshair's lap before discounting him, batting away his hand when he tried to bring you back up his body. Only when you settled between his thighs did he go slack, understanding your intentions with a soft sigh when your warm hands swept up his thighs to cup his balls.

 His legs would part some more as you rolled him in your fingers, taking his shaft in-hand to absentmindedly inspect his velvety skin. It gave him ample time to refuse, but Crosshair only sat up on his elbows to watch with his bleary eyes as you gently stroked him, smearing his pre-cum across his frenulum with a thumb.

 You only let your mouth descend when his pleasure began to manifest on his face, pressing the rosy head of his cock against the roof of your mouth with your tongue as you sealed your mouth around him with a hum. Crosshair responded in kind with a resounding groan, his head rolling back on his shoulders while you took him to the back of your throat.

 It was a slow, rhythmic motion you'd repeat to avoid gagging like you loathed, stroking the remainder of him in your hand that your mouth couldn't reach. Crosshair wasn't as thick as he was long, and Maker, did he knew how to use it. You gave him adoring attention under the ministrations of your mouth, thinking of all the times Cross had pounded you into the mattress with this cock, fucking you to tears and always kissing them away. He liked you best prone on your stomach, your hips poised over a folded pillow so he could damn-near misplace your fucking insides.

 He sagged under his elbows now, letting himself fall back onto the bed as your tongue laved the underside of his cockhead with each stroke. The occasional twitch in your mouth kept you from getting lost in your practiced motions, flicking your eyes up once to check on him, and then settling on Crosshair a second time when he'd met your gaze.

 His glassy eyes were half-open, his hand clenching and releasing above his head as he watched you with steadying breaths. As you held his gaze, you'd twirl your tongue over his head, if only to make the stoic sniper gasp and jerk below you.

 "Fuck, just like that..." he'd purr, and you'd make an attempt to take him to the curls at his base, effectively punching the air from his lungs. An involuntary buck from Crosshair had him hitting the back of your throat with a gag that normally would've had you retracting to right yourself.

 But you kept on.

 Your brows screwed together as you doubled down, stealing glances at Crosshair's rakish expression as his head tipped back into the bed, the veins in his neck bared to make your mouth water as you bobbed your head up and down. With a few signifying jumps on your tongue, you knew Crosshair was close --

 -- Yet he stopped you all the same, hissing through his teeth as he pushed ypur head up.

 "Tss! Not -- no, not like this -- not like this, baby, come up here," he labored, beckoning you up away from his engorged manhood, glistening with your spit as you crawled to assume your position from before. Crosshair pulled you up his body the rest of the way, his eyes still glossy and half-lidded when he got his hand around your nape, pulling you down into his lips for a ravenous kiss.

 His hand pawed at your ass as his right arm upon your hip kept you in place, encouraging you to drag yourself over his slick cock as he thrusted his tongue into your mouth, a palpable desperation you'd rarely seen on him.

 Crosshair, was otherwise back in his own head.

 He watched with rapt attention when you'd descended down the bed to please him first -- he, who hadn't bathed after swimming at the stinking beach, and absolutely hadn't brushed his teeth yet. You did-so earnestly, with a slow passion that was saccharine, your focus entirely on him.

 Your adoration never failed to dismantle him entirely, crumbling apart as easily as a corroded pipe. He'd sooner think that he was dead and stuck in some spiritual-realm-limbo before believing he deserved this -- everything -- from you.

 Waking up in a cold sweat, fumbling to his feet, believing he was back on Tantiss; The weight of his bones used to be such a burden, the matter in his mind, his slight regard for his own life -- distant memories.

 Now, he awoke to the constance of you.

 Drooling into your pillows, warm and tousled in the sheets, entangled with his limbs, and sharing his breath. It formed a knot im his chest as he pulled back from your lewd kiss with a string of saliva, Crosshair looked at you with a different kind of tremor overtaking him.

 Your face flickered in concern nonetheless; "Cross, you're shaking."

 Words failed him, and his heart throbbed too intensely to even dare to speak as Crosshair craned his neck for another kiss, humming into your mouth for the slow swipe of your tongue against his own. He would've been content like this, to just hold you until the morning warmth was chased away by the early-noon breeze off the coast.

 He knew you had other plans when you insistently squirmed back in his lap, with trepidation at first, until Crosshair murmured his confirmation against your locked lips. The former sniper would nip your lips to wrench those miniscule noise from your tongue as you brought-up your hips, Crosshair let you do the labor to guide him into place.

 Once he'd notched his oversensitive head against your hole, you sank down slowly with a drawn-out hiss, one that your partner parroted before it tapered off into a groan as you fully seated yourself in his lap. For once, Crosshair didn't immediately move. It perplexed you, but you didn't pry, resting the crown of your head to his own as his breathing switched to a slow and manual pace. Still shaky.

 You were so damned warm, a hot vice around him compared to the soft cavern of your mouth, your muscles trying to pull him in deeper as your walls adjusted to accommodate his intrusion. The tremor in his voice caught your attention once you began peppering kisses along his hairline;

 "I love you so damn much --"

 Crosshair began to move, elevating your hips a few inches with his hand cupped under your ass, encouraging you along with him. His eyes were still screwed shut, breathing through the torturous pace that had been set.

 " -- Want you..."

 You'd meet him in kind, bracing your hands on Crosshair's shoulders for leverage as you rose up. Eventually, he sat himself upright, his wrist steadying you as he leaned back and propped himself up on his hand. The new angle drove into you deeper than before, carving out his space within your clenching walls as you rode him.

 "You'll always have me, Cross," you crooned, clasping your hands around his nape to keep his forehead to your own, suffocating on his exhalations as you both panted. Your statement wrenched a moan from his chest like he'd been punched, the jump of his cock a domino effect of his reaction.

 You mumbled, "I love you."

 "Hng, fuck~~ I love you, too --" Crosshair choked out as he wrapped his arm around your back, rolling you into his hips, grinding into each other at this point, barely letting an inch of space between you both. "Hmng, shab, I'm close, baby," he hissed, ducking into your neck while his arms pressed you flush against him. "Don't stop."

 He reached a numbing depth within you, pummeling that tender spot relentlessly, hardly retracting an inch before pressing into you again. You weren't with him quite yet, eagerly rutting against him for some semblance of friction against your most sensitive area until Crosshair's trembling hand found you. Sealing his mouth to yours with a thrust of his tongue, Crosshair repeatedly rolled his thumb over your swollen sex in tandem with the budge of his hips.

 "H-ngh, fuck, I'm --" was the only warning you received as Crosshair blew it, gripping you close as his body wracked and shuddered, your walls milking every drop with gusto until he dropped onto his back again.

 After that, you would've assumed he was done, but Cross was evidently far from it.

 Your world spun as he rolled you both over without hardly waiting for his orgasm to fizzled out, knocking your legs apart with his knees even as he shivered. Agonized groans raked from the former sniper's throat as Crosshair reeled his hips back and slammed into you, his head ducked in the crook of your neck as he labored each haggard breath to pump his cock into you.

 The change in angle made you keen, legs hanging at Crosshair's sides until you found sense in them again, interlocking your heels around your lover's back to spur him on. Your wanton cries of pleasure kept Crosshair running on his steam, baring his teeth as he battled the aching heat in his gut to bring you to the end.

 He couldn't bite back his own whines for very long, not when your walls began to clench and unclench around his twitching shaft, groaning past the sobs that wrenched themselves from his chest, burying his hand on your hair at your nape. Crosshair was babbling incoherently as he pounded into you, flesh clapping together with each stroke.

 His tears wet your neck, and so did his fervent kisses, biting, sucking like a depraved animal past his overwhelmed sobs. Yet he still drew it out, bracing himself on his right arm while keeping pace to stroke over your sex, his shoulders shivering in a feverish manner.

 "C'mon, Cross," you encouraged in a puff, angling yourself to accept him deeper, effectively aiding him in pummeling the erogenous patch within your walls while you turned your cheek against his own, lapping up his tears and kissing them away. Crosshair wordlessly acknowledged your approval, choking on his own erratic breaths as his hips stuttered into your own, determined.

 Your climax rammed into you like a bullet train, bleaching your vision in white dapples as your spine arched into your partner's chest. When your release triggered his second, Crosshair utterly shattered above you, his face flushed and twisted with anguish as he bottomed out for the last time. He barely remained on his elbows for longer than a few heartbeats before collapsing onto your chest, hiccuping as his oversensitive sobs tapered off into sniffles and the occasional whine when you clamped around his softening cock.

 "That was... fuck... shabuir kandosii'la," Crosshair mumbled, defaulting to the tongue he was weaned on as a commando clone.

 Your hand came up to card through his damp silver curls as Crosshair found his breath again, tasting the salt on his skin when you kissed across his forehead. He'd melt like a lothcat without fail, letting you stroke away his tears with a proposition. "And about that shower?"

 The veteran snorted his amusement, nuzzling his nose against your pulse with a long, drawn-out huff as he nodded, "As soon as my legs work again, sweetheart..."

Footnotes : this one absolutely fried my brain bc I was being overly nit-picky buttt ! we are back lol ! prob wont write cross hair again for a while LOL I had no idea what I wanted to do with this prompt. anyway, thanks for reading !!!