Chapter Text
Focusing on your work would have been a lot easier were it not for the resident sniper currently prodding you with a thin finger. You knew what he wanted, but you were working! Or trying to. Hard to work when the man was clearly looking for cuddles.
If only he weren’t too stubborn to outright say it.
“Crosshair, would you stop that?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because.”
Grumbling under your breath, you swatted at his hand. “Either use your words and ask or go away.”
“No.”
Sometimes his “man of few words” persona was mysterious and, if you dared to admit, downright attractive. Other times it was just plain annoying. This was such a time.
Focusing on your work grew even harder when Crosshair ran a hand along the back of your shoulders and down your opposite arm while leaning in to nuzzle your neck.
You leaned away from his spiky grey hair as it tickled your cheek. You’d eventually give in, even out of sheer frustration, and you hated that both of you were well aware of that fact. You’d pretend not to know what he was wanting, meanwhile he’d slowly drive you mad with gentle caresses. The only time the man was ever gentle was when he wanted something from you, such as cuddles.
You grit your teeth, two seconds from giving in if only to put an end to this bizarre ring-around-the-rosie. “I’m working.”
“Well stop working.”
This man… “Crosshair.”
He hummed questioningly into your neck.
“Go away. I’m not giving in this time.”
“Oh? Very well.”
You knew better to assume he would really leave you alone, so it did not surprise you when Crosshair walked around to your front, wiggled under your arms, and sat himself in your lap. Facing backwards, his thin yet muscular legs on either side of your hips, he draped his arms around you and buried his face into your neck the best he could considering your height difference.
Face turning deadpan, you sighed heavily. Well now working was completely out of the question. You could not work with this man in your lap. At least only Crosshair and Tech did this… if Hunter or even worse, Wrecker, tried this you’d be crushed. Even still, Crosshair was decently heavy in his own right. “What have you been eating?”
The man didn’t answer, planting a rather awkward kiss to your neck. He leaned his weight further against your chest, slowly driving the breath from you.
“Fine!” you relented, throwing up your hands the best you could.
Crosshair chuckled, leaning back to smirk at you. “Knew you’d figure it out, cyar’ika,” he teased.
You slapped his chest, ignoring the warm feeling spreading through your own. “Just get off me, di’kut.”
“What’s the magic word?”
You glared at him, not about to give in a second time.
“C’mon, Y/N. Just one little word,” he sang sweetly.
“Asshole.”
“Not quite.”
“Either you get off or I won’t do that thing you like.” You smirked, knowing that would get the man off you.
Crosshair’s own smirk faded and he grumbled under his breath but shuffled off you.
Moments later, the pair of you were snuggled together in his bunk, your head resting on his chest as one arm encircled your back possessively and his other hand ran through your hair. Should you look up, you knew you’d find the man’s eyes fixed on you. What most people didn’t understand was how sweet the sniper could really be when around people he loved. A secret softie, there was nothing he liked more than having you cuddled against him.
Well… there was one thing. Or rather two. One of those two things would wait for another day, but the other you’d oblige in soon. Crosshair liked to take care of you first.
Lightly scratching your scalp, he hummed a soft tune before the hand at your back rubbed gently between your shoulder blades.
You leaned back into his touch, a smile creeping over your face.
“Like that, Y/N?”
“Don’t push it, Cross,” you grumbled, snuggling deeper into his chest.
“What do I get if I don’t?” he asked, skilled fingers attacking a rather stubborn knot on the left side of your spine.
“It’s more of a question of what you won’t get,” was your answer as you stifled a soft moan at the steady, circular motion of his fingers against your back.
“You know you enjoy it. Don’t be too proud to admit it,” he purred.
“You’re one to talk.”
Minutes ticked by, Crosshair slowly working out the knots in your back, before you announced, “Alright, we can switch now.”
That was all the sniper needed to hear. The pair of you traded places, his head now on your chest as his arm encircled your waist and held tight. One long leg hooked over one of yours, he snuggled deeper into you.
Another fact that most people didn’t know and would never learn; Crosshair was an absolute baby at times. He wanted to be spoiled as much as any of the other Bad Batchers, but he was far too proud to admit it.
No matter, you knew what he wanted.
Slowly running a hand up his back, you repaid him by working at the knots in his own back. The man was always so stiff, he really needed to relax. Pressing down on the lean, taunt muscle until it gradually softened beneath your touch, you took to gently stroking his back.
He groaned softly and nudged you with his head.
Not yet. You wanted to see how long he could last before he got impatient. You continued to rub his back, pretending not to have noticed.
Not even a minute later, he groaned again, louder, and nudged you with more force. He shifted upwards, arm now around your lower ribs as his head rested on your shoulder. The hand at your side tightened, signaling to you that the man was already impatient. That didn’t take long, but it never would.
Nevertheless, you continued to ignore the man’s borderline pleading.
Finally, Crosshair grew agitated and rubbed his head against yours with a low sound that could almost be considered a growl. “Y/N.”
“Yes?” you asked innocently, a small smirk spreading across your face.
He rubbed his head against yours again.
Rolling your eyes, you took pity on him and ran your fingers through his own hair, scratching lightly. Your smirk grew at the soft, content moan that came from the sniper. “Aw, does someone like their head petted?”
His fingers lightly tickled your ribs, causing you to yelp. He chuckled softly, a smug look on his face as he raised his head.
You narrowed your eyes. “Asshole.”
“You know you love me,” he purred, leaning in and kissing your cheek before nestling his head back into the crook of your neck.
What an unfortunate truth.
Yet, gazing at the sniper snuggled up against you, you knew you wouldn’t have it any other way.