#but this little shit burrowed herself as deep as possible and refused to be flushed out

[detroitbydark]

Pairing: Crosshair x OC

Characters: Crosshair, Omari

Warnings: repercussions of violence against women, injury, sex work

Summary: Its just a transaction. At least that's what he tells himself. They don't kiss. He tells himself that too.

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“Omari” Crosshair doesn’t bother to hide the irritation in his voice. Felucia had been a complete shit show. They’d spent a week in the hot, dank jungle. He’d spent the majority of it perched, still as stone, in a sniper's nest while bugs attempted to burrow through his composite for a clone feast.  All he wanted to do was unwind and fuck his frustration away. 

The one place he was supposed to be free of it all had been unusually tense since he’d shown up. Mari had been… off, reticent since he’d shown up and it was beginning to rub his last nerve raw.

“Why won’t you look at me?”

Mari busies herself pulling clean sheets across the bed, smoothing them with her hand as she goes, “you’re early and I’m not ready” she huffs. 

He doesn’t really mind too much that she hadn’t greeted him with her usual knowing smile and banter. He’s got an excellent view of her ass through the sheer robe she’s wearing and that should be all he really needs for the moment but there’s more to it. Her shoulders are tight, her movements are stiff. She’s tense and after nearly a year of coming to her he knows what to expect and this isn’t it.

“Your on the clock, Kitten.” He reminds roughly from his spot slumped in her armchair. The top half of his armor already piled neatly in the corner. He’d done it himself. He hadn’t taken his own armor off in ages. She did it.

“If you're not happy with me Crosshair, you’re welcome to find someone else” it’s said through gritted teeth as she still refuses to look at him. A wave of emotion (panic, though he’ll never admit to knowing that feeling) washes over him. The problem was he didn’t want to see another girl. Mari knew what made him tick and, honestly, he liked being around her more than he could reconcile with himself.

“Easy girl” he stands and covers the few steps between them. He’s gentle when he takes her arm and she only struggles weakly as he turns her.

 “Look at me Kitten” 

She doesn’t. Her chin tilts up and she looks toward the window. The yellow, artificial light spilling in casts her face in a shadow, dark under her eye and…

Crosshair takes her chin in hand and turns it sharply to him. Brown eyes narrow in on the dark shadow around her right eye and cheek. The shadow that’s not a shadow.

“What happened?”

Mari’s eyes go wide as she attempts to pull away but he’s not having it.

“It’s fine Cross” her voice smooth as Cyrene silk. She’s trying to throw him off and he makes a sound of distaste as her hands come up and stroke over his chest. “It’s nothing to worry about.”

Yeah, he wasn’t about to let it go for a soft touch and her false soothing.

She seems to relax as his hand loosens on her chin but she redoubles her efforts quickly as his hand grabs her wrist and starts pulling her toward the refresher.

“What are you doing?”

She pulls halfheartedly against him. He’s glad she’s smart enough not to truly fight him. He wasn’t in the mood for it.

“Take your armor off” he demands as the light hums to life and he stops her in front of the sink.

“What are you talking about?”

Her eyes narrow and, Maker, it’s really hard to not give into her and let it be. 

But he can’t. This wasn’t his business but he can’t let it go.

“It’s just a little bruise” she admits, weakness creeping in, “we don’t have to- I mean you can come a different time if it’s that big a deal to you.”

“Omari, I said take off your make-up”

Crosshair watches her shoulders slump. When they played she gave into him so easily but that was during playtime, when she was on the clock. He was asking something else of her now and she was fighting him. 

He ignores the way she doesn’t move to do as he’s said, instead he opens the small vanity and retrieves a cloth he knew she kept stored there. Reaching around her he turns the water on, finally using one hand to move her to the side so he can wet the cloth himself. He can feel her eyes on him and when he glances up he catches a moment of curiosity, a moment of something like apprehension before she locks it down.

He wrings the cloth out and grabs her hand, placing it in her palm.

“Do what I say” his tone remains low and demanding as her eyes scan his face, “I’m not playing right now.” He confirms.

He can see the wheels in her head turning. She’s weighing all the possible outcomes, looking at all the options. Finally, she turns toward the mirror and adds soap to the cloth. She focuses entirely on the suds she’s creating and avoids catching his eye in the mirror behind her.

Her fresher is tiny and he uses it as an excuse to crowd in behind her as she begins taking the layers of makeup off in slow circles. The deep red of her lips fades to a soft pink, the contours of her face become less sharp, softening her appearance and showing how young she still was. Her skin is smooth. Her complexion clear but not the single uniform tone her makeup suggested. 

He watches the transformation silently as she peels away the protective armor to expose her true self underneath.

Her eyes dart to his once and he offers a tight smile that she returns with an equally strained one. His hand falls to her hip and he gives an encouraging squeeze. The tension between them seems to melt as she leans her weight back against his chest.

“That’s my girl” the words slip out and he doesn’t regret them, “finish the job Kitten”.

“Crosshair-“

“No” he stops any excuse “I want it off”

Mari nods and rinses the cloth with fresh water before bringing it back to begin taking the shadow and concealer off her eyes. The bruises surrounding her right eyes bloom them. The thick layer of makeup had done an exceptional job of hiding the colors, blue and purple at the center with sickly green beginning to peek through around the edges as healing began. The damage stands out starkly against her pale skin. He tamps back the murderous feelings swelling in his chest.

She finishes slowly. Setting the cloth down and looking at him through the mirror.

“Who?” It’s one word, asked with more menace than even he knew he was capable of. 

Mari shoulders square.

“It was just business. If you don’t like it you don’t have to-“

“Omari, who did it?” His hand turns her gently. She flinches as his thumb traces the beginning of the trauma on her cheek bone to where it extends up onto her temple.

“I won’t be servicing them anymore if that’s what you're worried about. No more damaged goods-.”

His thumb dips down to her lips, silencing any further explanation.

“I asked who” his tone is cool “you’re going to tell me and then you’re going to show me where your bacta is.”

He loosens his grip as she turns away. He watches the struggle on her face in the mirror as she roots around to find the small bottle of bacta spray.

The green of her eyes sticks out sharply against the discolored skin and Crosshair can’t look away as she turns back to him. 

“Darj’in Kos, Black Sun” she says quietly. She looks so soft, not at all like the woman he’s used to. 

He takes the spray in hand. His voice softens. 

He softens.

“thank you.” 

It surprises them both when he leans down, presses a soft kiss to her forehead. He doesn’t stop there. He places another to her battered cheek. Her skin is still damp and he can smell the residual of the makeup lingering there. She inhales sharply as his lips press quickly against the corner of her mouth.

“I’m sorry” he lies, drawing up to his full height.

“It’s ok” she lies back.

“Close your eyes for me, kitten” 

Crosshair is thankful when her lids flutter shut, a moment without her eyes on him to think as he holds a shielding hand over her closed right eye and sprays the bacta. 

He didn’t kiss. Kisses were not something they did. She had rules and he had issues and-

“Crosshair?” How long has he been frozen there, bacta in hand? Her warm hand presses against his chest, another trails up to his cheek. The pads of her fingers press softly into his skin. He notices for the first time the light smattering of freckles cross the bridge of her nose, the pale pink scar that sits above her left brow. 

“Hmm?” He hates that he doesn’t have anything better to say but her forest eyes are peering up at him shining with nerves he’s never seen in her and he’s not prepared for what it does to him, the way his lungs feel starved of air.

“Kiss me again?”

The can of bacta clatters against the floor as his head dips suddenly. His lips capture hers in a rush of need as he presses her back against the counter. Mari clings to him, her hands fist in his blacks, keeping her body flush against his. Her lips are sweet and soft and she blossoms under his touch, opening to him as his tongue explores her mouth. 

He swallows down her soft whimpers, pretends he doesn’t feel the swell of emotions building in his chest. She chases after him as she pulls back and he darts in for another peck before he lifts her into his arms. She clings to him, mouth nipping and sucking at his neck as he leaves the fresher, the make-up stained cloth, and his ability to remain indifferent behind.

Taglist: @skdubbs @pastelbunny1501 @my-own-oracle @underworldqueen13​ @obiorbenkenobi​ @adritozier

#ctossed connections #crosshair x OC #Crosshair/OC #the bad batch #clone trooper Crosshair #tCW