seen from Mexico
seen from Mexico
seen from Mexico
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Russia
seen from Mexico
seen from Poland
seen from Singapore
seen from Türkiye
seen from Germany
seen from Mexico
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Japan
seen from France
seen from United States
seen from Russia
seen from China
seen from China
Instantly thought this during this scene 💀
keeli's fic recs - star wars edition
Hunter
Jump Then Fall by @jedipoodoo Borrowed Time by @dindjarindiaries Wounds Unseen by @dindjarindiaries Rush by @dindjarindiaries
Tech
Totally Not Crushing by @vekreng Teasing Tech by @stellarbit *I Told You So by @cc--2224 *How fast...? by @nahoney22 Perfectly Plucked by @nahoney22 Darling by yours truly *(Not) Broken by @motherroam-rs
Crosshair
*Between Us by @nahoney22 Sniper by @justaparsec94 *Reunion by @justaparsec94 Enclosed Intentions by @crosshairlovebot
Echo
Kiss Me Quick by @nahoney22
Fives
*Unattached by @motherroam-rs
Captain Rex
Where Trust Falls Apart by @captn-trex
Wolffe
First Kiss part 1 & *2 by @tanobatcher
Howzer
*Domination by @merlincmgirl
Cal Kestis
*Balance by @multi-fan-dom-madness
Din Djarin
Stormy Skies by @deakyjoe ^*Bloodlust by @dindjarindiaries definitely more to add, i've just been on a tbb kick, din will be next and you'll see like 30 more added (most will unsurprisingly probably by @dindjarindiaries)
💙 𝟓𝟎𝟏𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐇𝐂𝐬: 𝐒/𝐎 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧
Guys, finally. I decided to write something decent from Star Wars: The Clone Wars. Ever since I wrote "As a Boyfriends," two drabbles, and a one-shot with Wrecker, I've been determined to write some decent stuff from this fandom.
Hey guys, I've reached 86 followers and only need 14 to reach 100. So I'm starting to think about a 100-follower special. Feel free to share your suggestions in the comments.
I also plan to write tattoo headcanons for the 212th, 104th, Coruscant Guard, and The Bad Batch, so you can expect them soon.
⚠️ suggestive themes (sorry guys 😅), I'm sorry, if that would be too long, Y/N has a neutral gender
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💙 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐑𝐞𝐱
💙 Rex notices it accidentally at first. Maybe your sleeve rolls up, or your shirt shifts.
💙 The second he realizes it’s the 501st blue specifically? He just freezes for a second.
“You… did that for us? For me?”
💙 He tries to stay composed, but his ears are definitely red.
💙 Secretly feels honored beyond words because Rex carries a lot of responsibility for his men. Seeing someone willingly wear their colors feels deeply personal to him.
💙 If the tattoo includes his jaig eyes somewhere? Congratulations, you broke him.
💙 He absolutely kisses the tattoo at some point when you’re alone together.
💙 Suggestive side? He’s 100% the type to run his fingers over it slowly while looking at you like you’ve personally ruined his self-control.
💙 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬
💙 HE. LOSES. HIS. KRIFFING. MIND. LITERALLY.
“No way. No kriffing way.”
💙 He’s immediately bragging to Echo and Jesse that his girlfriend/boyfriend is officially cooler than all of them.
💙 Definitely asks a million questions:
🔹“Did it hurt?”
🔹“How long did it take?”
🔹“Was I there when you thought of it?”
💙 Emotionally? Fives acts cocky, but it hits him hard because clones rarely get things that are truly theirs.
💙 Someone choosing to permanently mark themselves with something tied to him and his brothers means everything.
💙 Absolutely kisses it dramatically in front of everyone just to embarrass you.
💙 Suggestive version:
🔹He gets very distracted by the tattoo during makeout sessions.
🔹Especially if it’s somewhere like your hip, thigh, ribs, or lower back.
🔹“Mesh’la, you can’t expect me to behave when you’ve got 501st blue right there.”
💙 𝐄𝐜𝐡𝐨
💙 Echo reacts more quietly than the others.
💙 He just stares at it for a moment with this soft expression.
💙 Then he gently traces the lines with his fingertips.
“That’s permanent…”
💙 There’s something emotional about it for him because Echo values loyalty and commitment deeply.
💙 He’d probably ask if there’s a meaning behind the placement.
💙 If you say you got it because the 501st became your family too? Or he's very important to you? Yeah, he’s done. That man is in love forever.
💙 Suggestive:
🔹He’s very affectionate with it.
🔹Kisses against the tattoo while holding your waist? Absolutely.
🔹Echo is surprisingly intense when emotional intimacy is involved.
💙 𝐉𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞
💙 As the king of tattoos himself, Jesse is OBSESSED.
💙 The second he sees it: “Marry me.”
💙 It doesn't matter if you've been a couple for a short or long time. He means it.
💙 He thinks it’s incredibly attractive that you chose something meaningful instead of just decorative.
💙 Definitely compares tattoos with you for an hour.
💙 He also becomes smug because now you “match.”
💙 If someone asks about your tattoo while Jesse is nearby? Oh he’s answering before you can. “Yeah, that’s 501st blue.”
💙 Proud boyfriend energy activated.
💙 Suggestive:
🔹LOVES touching it absentmindedly.
🔹Especially while cuddling or when you’re sitting in his lap.
🔹He definitely thinks it’s hot seeing his colors on you.
💙 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞
💙 SCREAMING. No, seriously. He screaming.
💙 This man acts like you just declared yourself the coolest being in the galaxy.
💙 He immediately wants matching tattoos.
💙 Probably tries to convince Fives and Jesse to get another one too.
💙 Hardcase is extremely physically affectionate already, so he’s constantly showing it off:
🔹arm around your waist
🔹pulling you close
🔹“Look! She/He loves the 501st!”
💙 Underneath the chaotic energy, though, he’s genuinely touched.
💙 Clones don’t often get reassurance that they matter outside the battlefield.
💙 This would mean a lot to him emotionally.
💙 Suggestive:
🔹He’s shameless.
🔹If the tattoo is somewhere hidden, he thinks knowing it’s there is ridiculously attractive.
🔹“That’s my favorite tattoo in the galaxy.”
💙 𝐊𝐢𝐱
💙 Kix first reacts like a medic.
🔹“Was the equipment sterile?”
🔹“Did it heal properly?”
💙 Then five seconds later he realizes how sweet it is and melts internally.
💙 He’s secretly very sentimental.
💙 I can see him gently pressing his forehead against yours after seeing it.
“You really care about us/me that much, huh?”
💙 He probably teases you about becoming honorary 501st.
💙 Suggestive:
🔹Kix absolutely enjoys seeing it when patching you up after missions.
🔹He’ll brush his fingers near it very intentionally while pretending to focus on medical work.
🔹Smug medic behavior. (wink wink 😏)
💙 𝐓𝐮𝐩
💙 Tup gets so soft about it.
💙 Like genuinely emotional.
💙 He’d smile at it every single time he sees it.
💙 Probably kisses it absentmindedly without even realizing he’s doing it.
💙 If the tattoo symbolizes loyalty/family?
💙 Tup is absolutely tearing up a little.
💙 He’d quietly admit that nobody has ever done something like that for him before.
💙 Suggestive:
🔹Tup is tender rather than bold.
🔹Lots of soft touches and kisses against the tattoo while cuddling in bed.
🔹He treats you like something precious.
💙 𝐃𝐨𝐠𝐦𝐚
💙 Dogma.exe has stopped working.
💙 He genuinely doesn’t know how to process someone voluntarily marking themselves with battalion symbolism.
💙 At first he’s stunned silent. Then: “…why?”
💙 Once he understands it’s because you care about the 501st and him?
💙 He becomes incredibly protective afterward.
💙 Dogma rarely feels personally chosen or prioritized, so this hits hard.
💙 He’d probably stare at the tattoo when he thinks you’re not looking.
💙 Suggestive:
🔹VERY flustered.
🔹If the tattoo is in an intimate spot, he cannot maintain eye contact.
🔹But once he gets comfortable? He becomes unexpectedly possessive and affectionate about it.
The Clones reacting to you smushing their cheeks
Idk I had this idea and thought it’d be cute. Since the clones are supposed to have round cheeks, visualize live action and not animated 😂
Warnings: none, just fluff.
Fives, Wrecker, Hardcase, & Tup: Loving it so much, will lean into your hands and give you heart eyes. Maybe even press a few kisses to your hand.
Cody, Jesse, Kix, Echo, Vaughn & Mayday: Will blush profusely and look side to side for a second, before giving in and flashing you a tiny smile.
Rex, Hunter, Tech, & Fox: Not sure what to do, just give an awkward smile and internally scream because they secretly find it super cute.
Crosshair, Wolffe & Dogma: Not understanding any of it. Don’t know what you’re doing, not sure that they like it, 3/10 do not recommend.
Gorgeous ~ Bad Batch Echo x reader
Description: Shy!reader has a hard time talking to Echo because of their crush. Protective Echo comes to the rescue during a bad date. Gender neutral. Very loosely based on Gorgeous by Taylor Swift.
Lyrics:
~ You've ruined my life, by not being mine
~ You're so gorgeous/ I can't say anything to your face/ 'Cause look at your face
~ Ocean blue eyes looking in mine/ I feel like I might sink and drown and die
Words: 2.8k
Warnings: kinda but not really unrequited feelings, misunderstanding, confessions of feelings, icky man on date, violence (one line), suggestiveness (also one line), kissing, mentions of sex in a vulgar way so 18+
Main Masterlist
reputation inspired fics Masterlist
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You’re currently trying to focus on getting your hands to stop shaking as you’re wrapping the hand in front of you – that said hand belonging to the clone you’ve had a crush on ever since you laid eyes on him. Echo who sat in front of you is avoiding your gaze, which you don’t mind. You know if he looked at you with his big brown eyes, then you wouldn’t be able to focus on patching him up.
“You know you didn’t have to do that,” you finally break the silence, quickly looking up at him. Yet, he still doesn’t spare you a glance, and a small grimace appears on his face for the smallest second.
“Don’t worry about it,” he gruffly responds. Now, you feel your lips turn down in a small frown.
“I’m always going to worry about you, Echo,” you say softly, which makes him scoff. He finally turns his head to look at you, and you see hard lines set on his face. The type of lines that usually appear when he’s trying to figure out a complicated code. He looks away and shakes his head.
“Doesn’t seem like it,” he says so quietly, as if it weren’t meant for your ears. Your heart squeezes at the thought of Echo not believing you, but you can also understand why. You haven’t been the most open with Echo, but who can blame you? You’re already a shy person, but he flusters you even more. So much so, that you can barely get a word out around him without your body freezing up.
Echo is so kind, always asking if you need something, if you slept well, if you’ve eaten… He’s also so brave. There’s not many people you can think of who could go through what Echo did and still come out as a strong, compassionate man. The cherry on top being how handsome he is. You feel horrible when you answer his questions with a few quick awkward words due to your brain malfunctioning, but it’s all you can get out without completely embarrassing yourself.
Even tonight, he never stopped caring no matter how awful you’ve been with him, which is how you ended up here bandaging his knuckles.
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You and the guys are on Coruscant for a few days break, and, of course, that means a visit to 79s. Wrecker immediately took to the dance floor, while Echo, Hunter and Crosshair sat in a booth “listening” to Tech ramble about his latest experiment. You, on the other hand, were at the bar waiting for your date to show up.
You did not want to go on this date, but it was practically forced upon you by your friend who said the GAR was ruining your social life. You never told her about Echo because you knew she’d push you into asking him out, and you are not doing that. You can barely form a sentence around him, so you can’t even imagine going on a date with him and having to hold a normal conversation.
Well, you actually can imagine it. You imagine what your life would be like if you and Echo were more than teammates quite often before you go to sleep. You feel guilty for thinking about that as he lies a few feet away from you in his bunk, clueless about your inappropriate thoughts of him.
You can’t function normally around him, so you accepted that it was just never going to happen with him. Plus, and more importantly, you don’t even know if he holds any feelings towards you that go beyond teammates. Sure, he cares about you, but he cares about all his teammates.
So, there you were, scolding yourself at being pressured into this stupid date. You could feel the team’s eyes on you as you sat at the bar with your back facing them. You had told them about the date your friend had set you up on when they asked if you would be joining them tonight. Maybe you should’ve kept that to yourself, you argued with yourself.
First dates are always stressful, but then your team was about to watch you fail miserably — Echo getting the front row seat to it all.
You let out a stressed sigh before looking around the bar again. Your eyes glanced over at the table your team was at, all of whom were minding their business, except for Echo. Your eyes met and you felt your heart do the usual skip it does whenever you two lock eyes. You gave him a small smile, which made him nod back before turning his head away from you.
A few more minutes went by before you felt someone come up to your side and you turned your head towards him at your name being said. There stood a man who you presumed to be your date. He was tall and conventionally attractive, but not at all your type. No, your type was sitting in a booth across the bar, but you already told yourself to give this guy a chance.
You two introduced yourselves and started a conversation – well if you could even call it that. It quickly came to your attention that this man was not for you. He was rude and condescending. He barely let you get a peep out, and when you did, the guy didn’t even pretend to be interested in what you had to say. Usually you struggle with having conversations with new people, but you didn’t have to worry at all with this guy. He was droning on and on about whatever thing he had going on at work, while you swirled your drink around with your straw before he interrupted your daze.
“You know, your friend had said you were shy, but I didn’t think that meant boring,” he said with an even tone, as if that was a completely normal thing to say to someone. That made you shoot your eyes up to him and furrow your brows.
The audacity of this man.
You mentally dropped your jaw before sitting up straight, “Well, I guess my friend is a liar because she said you’d be a nice guy, and so far this date has been nothing but horrible.”
Sure, you’re shy, but you also don’t let people walk all over you.
“That’s rich coming from you, sweetheart,” he scoffed.
“What exactly is that supposed to mean?” you angrily questioned.
“It means that here I am buying you drinks and wasting my breath on you, and you can barely hold a conversation. I can see why you don’t have a partner, you’re not interesting,” he rolled his eyes, clearly irritated. You were about to start your line of insults before you felt a hand brush against your lower back.
“Everything okay here?” came a low voice behind you. You didn’t have to turn to know it was Echo.
“Yeah man, everything is fine,” replied your date who was shooting daggers at you.
“Really, it doesn’t seem like it,” Echo pushed back.
“Listen man, this ain’t your business, so I suggest you go back to that dark corner you came from.”
You looked back at Echo who had his jaw clenched and whose hand never left you. He finally looked down at you, raising one eyebrow in a silent question. You shook your head at him before you turned your head back to your date.
“I think we can both agree that this is not going to work out, so I think it’s time for me to leave,” you said calmly, trying to diffuse the situation.
You date scoffs at you, “What? You’re going to spend the rest of the night with him over me? I could at least give you a good fucking. It’ll make up for the money I wasted on you tonight.”
You felt your anger shoot to levels you didn’t know were possible for yourself, but before you could even say anything, Echo’s fist went flying at the man. The man fell out of his seat and laid there, unmoving, for a few seconds. You stared wide eyed at the scene in front of you, holding your breath. You released it when you finally saw the man move and let out a groan.
You weren’t even thinking when you grabbed Echo’s arm and quickly dragged him out of the bar, and you didn’t let go of him until you made it back to the Marauder.
“Sit,” you quietly demanded, and Echo did not argue. You quickly sent Hunter a message letting him know what had happened and where you and Echo were. You, then, gathered supplies and rushed back to Echo. You took his large hand in both of yours and examined his knuckles. They were starting to bruise and there was only one small cut, but it still made your stomach twist. You quietly started cleaning his knuckles, doing what little you could for them, which is how you got to the conversation you’re currently having with him.
------------------------------------------------
It makes you feel awful that he thought you didn’t care about him, especially after everything he has done for you.
You stayed quiet for a few moments, finishing wrapping his hand. Once you did, you didn’t let his hand go, but he didn’t try to pull it back either.
“Echo, I have something to tell you,” you say softly, not daring to look up at him, but you could see him turn his head towards you in your peripheral vision. You’re sitting next to him in another chair, your legs just barely touching. He doesn’t say anything, so you continue with a shaky breath, “I do care about you. I care about you a lot actually… more than what’s appropriate for teammates.”
You spare a glance over at him, and you feel your breath catch in your throat when you look into his eyes. They’re always so warm, but right now they look… disbelieving. Somehow you manage to keep your eyes on him though.
“I think my actions were mistranslated. I think it’s pretty obvious that I’m not the best at talking to you,” you grimace. His lips pull into a tight line before he releases a deep breath of his own, confirming your suspicions.
“I have a hard time talking to you because I like you,” you rush out. Maker, you’re going to throw up. The shock on his face nor the silence that follows helps, so you look down and start to ramble because you don’t know what else to do.
“I’ve always been a shy person, so talking to someone new or who isn’t close to me is not the easiest thing in the world. I also have trouble with talking to people who I like, and that’s you. I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. It doesn’t help either that my brain stops working whenever you’re near. You’re so kind and brave and everything I want in a man, but I knew I didn’t have a chance with you. I tried to push my feelings aside, but it doesn’t help either that you’re so handsome. Maker, I lose all my words when you look at me. You’re just so… so perfect and I’m just me-”
You hear your name being said but you’re rambling continues, “-and I’m so sorry if all this makes you uncomfortable-”
Your name is said again a bit louder this time, but your brain is still running a million parsecs a minute, “-I understand if you don’t want to work with me. I can have myself transferred or-”
You're finally broken out of your verbose confession when your name is shouted, which startles you back to Echo’s gaze. He doesn’t have that shocked look on his face, it’s more confused now.
“You like me?” he asks simply. You feel your cheeks burn up before you slowly nod.
“But you went out on that date tonight?” he asks with his brows furrowed.
“Well, it wasn’t really my choice. My friend set it up, and I thought I might as well give it a try, since I didn’t have a chance with you,” you nervously explain.
“Who told you that you didn’t have a chance with me?” he asks frustratedly.
“I mean, no one. But like I said earlier, Echo, you’re just too good for me,” you mutter.
A few seconds go by, Echo seems to be taking all this in. You shift in your seat, waiting for the inevitable rejection. You feel your heart stop at the small laugh Echo lets out, and a wave of horror washes over you. You try to pull your hand away that was still holding his, but Echo quickly grabs yours before you can go too far.
“Sorry, I’m not laughing at you,” he says with a small smile on his face.
“I was laughing because it’s hilarious you think I’m too good for you. I’ve always thought you were too good for me, and I thought you ignoring me was just signs of disgust,” he quietly explains as his smile fades. Your heart clenches at his words.
“Echo, why would I ever be disgusted?” you ask at the same volume as him.
“Isn’t it obvious? You’ve definitely noticed how I look,” he shrugs as he looks down.
“Echo…” you murmur, reaching your hand out and touching his cheek. You guide his gaze back to yours, but you don’t drop your hand.
“Of course, I’ve seen you, and I still think you’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. Did you not hear the part where I told you that my brain literally blanks when I look at your gorgeous face,” you laugh lightly, trying to ease the tension in your chest.
Echo scoffs, which makes you ask, “Have I ever lied to you?”
He shakes his head.
“Exactly. I have never and will never. I understand if you don’t feel the same, but nothing I said was a lie,” you say as you start retracting your hand. Echo, however, rests his scomp behind your elbow, indicating you to stay.
You both sit in silence for a moment before Echo asks, “So, if I asked you out on a date, then you would say yes?”
That familiar feeling of your brain crashing again occurs, but this is the first time you’re able to find words, even if it is just a breathless ‘yes’. The wide smile that appears on Echo’s face makes your stomach flutter. He really is so gorgeous.
“Alright… well would you want to go on a date with me tomorrow?” he asks, and even though you just told him you would if he asked, you can still hear the nerves in his voice.
“Of course,” you let out a small giggle, which makes him let out a small chuckle of his own. You both stare at each other with giddy expressions, as Echo’s fingers rub over your knuckles.
“Could I kiss you?” he asks so quietly, you almost miss it. You don’t trust your voice, so you give a quick nod. He brings his scomp up your cheek to steady you. His eyes never leave yours as he slowly leans in, and when he reaches to where your breaths are mingling, he pauses to silently ask again. However, you surprise both yourself and him by closing the small space. This kiss is soft and sweet. Echo pulls back some to gauge your reaction, but your hands reach his head to pull him back down onto your lips again.
He lets out a soft groan at your boldness, and you two get in a few more slow kisses before your comm lets out a loud beep, making you both break apart. You reach down to check it and see a message from Hunter letting you know him and the guys are on their way back.
“They’ll be back in 10 minutes,” you tell Echo, which makes a smirk appear on his face.
He slowly trails kisses across your jaw before making his way back to your mouth. You feel his hand start to play with your hair, which makes you giggle, breaking this kiss once more.
“Echo,” you playfully whine. His smirk then changes into a soft smile.
“You know, you are so beautiful,” he whispers, which makes you divert your eyes but you force yourself to look at him again.
“You are too,” you quietly countered, and that made him scoff.
“I’m going to prove how beautiful I think you are, and you’re going to have no choice but to believe me,” you whisper with a serious tone. His eyes widen slightly and you see his throat bob at the meaning of your words, however, he quickly regains his composure.
“Can’t wait then,” he teases.
When the team gets back, you and Echo don’t even try to hide the new dynamic between you two, but nobody says anything – except for Crosshair who rolls his eyes and mutters, “Finally.”
Warm
Pairing: Echo x fem!Reader
Words: 10,262
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! friends with benefits to lovers, fluff, slight hurt/comfort, first date cuteness, accidental love confessions, smut, unprotected sex, shower sex, pinv, oral (m recieving), fingering, dirty talk, creampie, inappropriate use of scomp, very loving soft smut actually
Summary: For the first time since the Republic fell, you and Echo find yourself on Pabu with nothing to do but relax, and you're determined to make the most of it. You just have to convince Echo.
A/N: I said this was pwp but I lied, the plot got me girl. This is some of the sweetest smut I have ever written. Echo deserves nothing less.
Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist
"What are you doing?"
You barely pause to look up as you shove another bottle of sunscreen in your bag, casting Echo a wry smile.
"We're going to the beach, so I'm making sure we're stocked up on sunscreen." You give the bottle in your hand a little shake, as if to illustrate your point. Echo's eyes flick down to it, then back to you, and he crosses his arms over his chest, shifting his weight and making the muscles there ripple distractingly. But you're not going to let him derail you.
"And... why are we going to the beach?" he asks, his tone bemused. You frown at him.
"We're supposed to be taking a break, right?" you ask. "And it's a beautiful day. I figured that we could enjoy it."
The two of you had arrived on Pabu last night, after what had seemed like the longest journey of your life. The moment you'd finally docked, you'd immediately felt the tension in your body start to bleed away, and it only took a few more minutes for Echo to follow suit, his shoulders relaxing and his expression going soft as the two of you walked down the streets toward where the rest of the Batch had made their home.
Now, the two of you are in the kitchen, with its cramped counters and low ceiling and ancient appliances, and for the first time in weeks, neither of you have anything to do. It's a strange feeling. You've been here for less than a day, but already you can feel the weight of all the work and stress and anxiety slowly lifting off your shoulders, leaving you feeling lighter than you have in weeks.
Echo, however, does not look particularly pleased at the prospect of having some time to himself. You know he'd rather be working, or training, or just about anything else, really. It's the exact opposite of what you're hoping for.
"Come on," you coax him, "don't you want to have a little fun? You deserve it."
He shifts uncomfortably, and you see him glance out the window toward the beach.
"I don't... think that's a good idea," he says, his voice hesitant. "It's— we're here because—"
"I know why we're here," you cut in. You set down the sunscreen, crossing your arms and leveling him with a look. "And I'm not asking you to swim, or even go near the water. Just sit in the sand, maybe enjoy the sun for a few minutes. I'm sure there's a place to get a decent cup of caf nearby, or maybe one of those little pastry things you like."
He's still looking skeptical, and you know you need to change tactics, so you step closer to him and slide your arms around his neck, tilting your head back and smiling at him coyly. His gaze drops down to your mouth, then flickers back up, and the corner of his lips tugs upward.
"I mean, if you're too scared to come outside with me..."
Echo scoffs, the sound almost offended. He pulls you close, his arms wrapping around your waist, and his voice is a low rumble in your ear.
"You really think that'll work on me?"
"No, not at all," you say with a smirk. You press a kiss to the spot just below his jaw, and he shivers, his fingers flexing against your back. "But I did just get a new swimsuit, and I thought maybe you'd want to see me in it."
The reaction is immediate. You feel Echo's whole body go rigid, his grip tightening around you, and you bite back a smile, trying not to laugh. You look up to see his ears are tinged red, and his eyes are fixed firmly on a point over your shoulder.
"Really?" he says, his voice strained, and you nod.
"Mhm."
You can see him considering it, and when you tilt your head a little more, leaning closer and making sure his attention stays fixed on you, you spot the exact moment his resistance breaks.
"I think you'll like it,” you continue. You're grinning now, knowing that you've already won. "But I guess if you're not interested, I can go to the beach by myself. I'm sure plenty of people will appreciate it."
You step away from him, already starting toward the bedroom the two of you had shared the night before. Before you can get more than a couple steps, though, Echo's arm shoots out, wrapping around your waist and hauling you back against him. You turn to find him smiling down at you, his eyes dancing with amusement, and he leans in, brushing his nose against yours.
"That's not going to happen," he murmurs. He leans in and kisses you, and for a moment, all the stress and tension seems to melt out of his body. He pulls away, pressing his forehead to yours and letting out a little sigh. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to get a little fresh air. But if I get sand in my joints, I'm not going to be happy."
You smile triumphantly and lean forward to peck him on the cheek.
"I'll make it up to you, I promise," you murmur, and his ears turn bright red. You grin and duck out of his grasp before he can reply, and Echo lets out a little huff as you head for the stairs, tossing a "don't forget your swimsuit!" over your shoulder.
When you return a few minutes later, your new swimsuit snugly in place under your clothes, Echo is standing in the doorway, and you stop, staring at him. He's wearing a pair of board shorts, a navy-blue color with a white stripe along each side. They fall a couple inches above his knees, and his broad chest is bare, his skin glowing in the sunlight. You've seen him shirtless plenty of times, but there's something about him wearing these casual clothes, something about the way he looks, relaxed and at ease and not quite as tense, that makes your heart do a funny little flip in your chest.
"Is this okay?" he asks, and you realize you've been staring at him. He has a button down shirt in his hand in an obnoxious floral pattern, one you know he got from one of the boys as a joke. You hadn't expected him to actually wear it, but it makes you smile to think that he's actually embracing the beach-vacation vibe.
"You look good," you say, and your voice comes out a little bit breathy. You clear your throat and try again. "I mean, it's fine. You look fine. Great. I'm—we should go."
You can't read the expression on his face, but his lips are twitching as he tugs the shirt on over his shoulders, and you grab the bag of supplies before turning toward the door.
"Come on," you say, jerking your head for him to follow. "Let's get out of here."
He follows you out, and you can feel his eyes on you the entire time, his gaze lingering on the skin that's visible between the bottom of your cropped shirt and the top of your shorts. When you catch his eye, he grins, not even trying to hide the fact that he's ogling you.
"Shut up," you mutter, but he only grins wider.
The two of you have never done anything like this before. There'd been a couple nights, during the brief respites the two of you had gotten on different missions, where you'd both gone out and had a little fun, but that had always ended the same way, with you heading back to one of your rooms or to a secluded corner and spending the rest of the night wrapped up in each other.
But this, the two of you wandering down the streets together, stopping at a café to get something to eat, laughing and joking together like a real couple... it's nice. Really nice.
You can feel Echo relaxing the longer the two of you walk, and he doesn't hesitate before ordering a caff for the two of you, getting yours the way you like it without having to ask. He holds the door open for you and pays for both of your meals, and by the time the two of you are walking down the beach toward the spot you'd had in mind, his arm slung over your shoulders, you're practically beaming.
The spot is far enough away from the main strip of shops and restaurants to avoid most of the foot traffic, but not so far away that the two of you will have to walk for miles to get back. It's quiet, with most people including the rest of the Batch at work or school or who knows where, and the sound of the waves is soothing.
Still, Echo stays close, his arm hovering near you as if he expects you to suddenly collapse, and he tenses a little whenever someone passes. When the two of you finally reach your spot, he pulls away, turning his back to you while you lay out the blanket.
"Checking for traps?" you ask dryly, and he shrugs, not looking at you.
"Or enemies," he says, and you roll your eyes.
"Yeah, right."
"Just because we haven't seen any doesn't mean they're not out there," he argues, and you can tell he's about to launch into a full-blown speech, so you reach out and wrap your hand around his wrist, tugging him down to the blanket.
"We're fine," you say. "Really. It's the middle of the day, and I don't think any undercover Imperials are going to try and jump us in the middle of a public beach."
"You never know," he says, and the look on his face tells you he's completely serious. "It wouldn't be the first time."
You roll your eyes and settle down on the blanket, propping yourself up on your elbows.
"Well, I'm sure I'll be safe with a big, strong ARC trooper protecting me," you tease, and his expression turns sour. You wink, and his scowl deepens.
"Ha ha," he says, not looking amused.
"I'm kidding," you say, nudging him with your shoulder. You tilt your head, and Echo's eyes are drawn to the long line of your neck. "Let's just... try and forget about that, okay? Let's pretend, for just a little while, that we're normal. We're just a normal couple, and we're having a normal date. Okay?"
He's still frowning, his brow furrowed, but after a moment, he sighs, his shoulders slumping a little.
"Okay," he mutters. "I can do that."
You smile, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek, and Echo turns, his mouth finding yours. His hand comes up, his thumb brushing across your cheek, and he pulls you closer, kissing you softly.
You let yourself sink into it, the sound of the ocean and the feeling of the sun on your skin making everything feel a little bit like a dream.
When you break apart, he's smiling, and some of the tension has finally melted from his body.
"So," you say, grinning, "what do you think? About this normal-couple-on-a-date thing?"
"I think... I could get used to it."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." He smiles at you, his eyes crinkling a little at the corners, and the sight of him, relaxed and smiling and looking happier than you've seen him in weeks, sends a flood of warmth through your chest. "It's kind of nice, actually."
"Good," you say. "Now take off your shirt. You're going to need a little sunscreen."
Echo's eyebrows lift. “What?”
"Come on," you wheedle, shaking the bottle at him. "Don't worry, I'll help."
"That's not—" he begins, but he doesn't seem to be able to find the words to finish. Finally, he sighs and shrugs out of his shirt, folding it and placing it on the blanket. Before he can say anything else, you move behind him, squeezing a generous amount of the lotion into your hands and rubbing them together.
"I'm going to start with your back," you tell him. You smooth your hands over his shoulders, feeling the soft skin beneath your palms, and his muscles flex beneath your touch. You move your hands over his broad back, covering every inch of exposed skin, and Echo groans as you hit a knot just below his shoulder blade.
"Right there?"
"Yeah," he says. He's practically melting under your touch, and you keep working, kneading your thumbs into the spot. "Force, that feels good."
You don't answer, focusing instead on getting the last bit of sunscreen in his skin. After a moment, he seems to gather himself, and you see him glance at the bottle, his brow furrowing.
"Why do I need sunscreen?" he asks.
"To keep you from burning."
He looks confused.
"You have sensitive skin, remember? And we've been traveling a lot lately, which means you haven't gotten much time in the sun. You don't want to burn."
Echo opens his mouth to respond, but you’re already climbing into his lap, your hands skimming over his shoulders.
"I should get your front, too," you murmur, and his eyes darken. His hand finds your hip, his scomp skimming up your back, and he's looking up at you, his expression open and vulnerable. You can feel the warmth of him through your clothes, and a familiar heat starts to coil in your stomach.
"You're distracting me," he mutters, his gaze flickering down to your lips.
"Is it working?"
"Yes."
You smirk and lean in, brushing a kiss against his mouth before smearing a line of sunscreen down the bridge of his nose. He yelps, and you pull back, laughing as his face scrunches up in distaste.
"What—"
"That's what you get," you say, grinning. "Come on, let's get the rest of you covered."
Echo grumbles a little but settles back against the blanket. You're thorough, taking care to spread the lotion across his arms and legs, over his broad chest, and down the smooth planes of his stomach. He's warm and pliant under your touch, letting out little noises of contentment whenever you find a particularly tight spot. By the time you've covered the last inch of skin, he looks thoroughly relaxed.
"There," you say, smiling at him. You run your hand down his side, and Echo shudders. "All done."
"Thanks," he says. He opens his eyes, squinting against the sunlight, and frowns. You’re already standing up, dusting sand off your legs, and you see him tense.
"Wait, what are you doing?"
You pause, your hands on the hem of your shirt.
"What does it look like I’m doing?”
He pushes himself up onto his elbows.
"It looks like you're taking off your clothes."
"I am."
You strip off your shirt, and you toss it over his head, smiling as he pulls it away. He freezes, staring at the scrap of fabric in his hand, and his eyes drop to your chest.
"This is..."
"I told you I had a new swimsuit," you remind him as you drop your shorts and step out of them, "and now you get to see it."
He looks like his brain is short circuiting, and his gaze rakes across your body, taking in every inch of exposed skin and the tiny bits of fabric covering the parts that aren't. You grin and turn around, slowly bending over to pick up the discarded shorts. You look back over your shoulder and his eyes are wide, and he swallows hard, his mouth suddenly dry.
"See something you like?"
"Uh huh," he says faintly. He licks his lips and tries to drag his eyes up, but they're fixed firmly on the swell of your ass, the way the fabric hugs the curve of it and leaves the skin exposed. His mouth opens, and you know he's trying to find the words, but instead, all that comes out is a faint croak.
"Good," you say. "I'm glad."
You grab the bottle of sunscreen and settle down on the blanket.
"I'm going to need a little help, though," you say. "I can't get my back."
You tilt your head back and Echo nods, the motion slow and almost hypnotized. He stands, crossing the blanket and kneeling down behind you. He waits for you to dispense some into his hand, and his fingers trail across the nape of your neck as he smooths the lotion over your skin. His touch is warm, and gentle, and the feeling sends a pleasant shiver down your spine.
It’s rare for the two of you to have this much time alone together, and you can't help but let yourself enjoy it, leaning into his touch. You're not even trying to tease him, but his breath still catches every time his hands sweep lower, his fingers tracing along the waistband of your swimsuit. He takes his time, making sure that not a single inch of skin is left uncovered, and by the time he's done, the tension between the two of you is practically crackling.
He sits back, his hand still lingering on the small of your back, and the two of you are quiet. He's staring at you, and there's something different about the way he's looking at you, something almost... reverent.
You've always known he wants you, have been able to read it on his face and in his touch, but this, the way he's staring at you now, is more than that. It's desire, yes, but there's something deeper, something softer and sweeter, and it makes your heart flutter in your chest.
The two of you haven't done anything like this before. Even your previous trysts had been frantic and rushed, a matter of stolen moments in darkened rooms and shadowy corners. But here, the two of you are exposed, out in the open where anyone could see, and yet the thought doesn't fill you with dread or worry. It's thrilling, in a way, and the fact that Echo doesn't seem to care either way just adds to it.
But despite that, neither of you make a move. You sit there, both of you watching each other, and you know that if you gave the slightest indication, he'd pounce, and the two of you would be wrapped up in each other, just like all those times before. But for the first time, you don't want that. You want him to stay just like this, watching you, and for you to watch him in turn.
So, instead, you reach out and brush your thumb over his bottom lip, and he sighs, his eyelids fluttering closed. He's warm under your touch, his lips slightly chapped from the wind, and he leans into you, pressing a kiss to your palm. His scomp skims up your back, the metal warm from the sun, and he pulls you close.
You press yourself against his chest, tucking your head into the space between his neck and shoulder, and his arm comes around to wrap around your waist, holding you there.
It's peaceful, the two of you sitting together like that. It feels normal, and right, and the feeling that settles over you is warm and comfortable, like being wrapped up in a blanket. It's perfect, and you never want it to end.
But, like all good things, it eventually has to, and Echo's comm chirps. The noise seems to echo across the sand, shattering the fragile bubble of peace the two of you have found. He pulls away, digging through the pockets of his shorts, and he swears under his breath.
“Rex,” he says as he holds up the comm. You nod, and he activates it, and the captain's voice crackles through.
"Echo, I just sent over some new intel. Can you check it out? It might be a lead on the ship."
"Yeah, of course," Echo replies, though his tone is a little hesitant. He glances over at you, his brows drawing together, and you force a smile, ignoring the way your heart has plummeted into the pit of your stomach.
"Duty calls," you say, trying for levity.
Echo hesitates, glancing at the comm and back at you, and he lets out a sigh.
“Everything okay?” Rex asks.
Echo doesn't answer, not looking away from you. You give him a reassuring smile, and his expression clears, his mouth twitching a little as if he's thinking.
"Everything's fine," he says finally. “I'm a little busy right now, but I'll look over the intel and get back to you later."
There’s a moment of silence, and you hold your breath, wondering if Rex will call him out. But instead, he laughs.
"Busy, huh?"
Echo rolls his eyes.
"Yeah," he says. He shifts, pulling you closer, and he presses a kiss to the top of your head. "Something like that."
"All right, fine," Rex says, and he sounds amused. "Glad you’re enjoying your vacation."
"I'm— yeah. Thanks, Rex."
"Bye, Rex," you add, leaning closer and raising your voice a little. Echo smirks, and he cuts the transmission.
"So," you say, "you're just going to ignore the fact that we got called in for work, huh?"
"No," Echo replies, looking defensive. He sets the comm aside, reaching out to take your hand. "We're on a break. They can handle things without us for a day or two."
You smile at him, and he brushes his thumb over your knuckles, his eyes soft.
"Who are you and what have you done with Echo?" you tease. You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head, but when Echo's grip on your hand tightens, you freeze, a jolt running down your spine.
He scowls, his mouth twisting, and his eyes flicker away from you, looking out across the water. His hand falls away from yours, and his shoulders slump, the easy happiness that had surrounded him moments ago bleeding away.
"Don't say that," he mutters.
"What? Why not?"
"I just..."
He looks frustrated, and a little lost, and you wait, giving him time to find the words. His mouth is open, but he closes it, letting out a harsh sigh through his nose. His brow furrows, and he stares down at his lap, his jaw clenched tight.
"I'm sorry," you murmur, your hand finding his. "I didn't mean it like that."
"No, I—" he stops, closing his eyes. "I know."
He takes a deep breath, his hand turning to lace his fingers through yours.
"I'm tired," he says finally, his voice small. "I'm tired of... not getting to be with you, because we're always running, or on a mission, or just never in the same place. We never get a chance to be alone, and it's..."
His brow furrows, and his lips press together, as if he's frustrated.
"It's not enough," he says, and there's a note of finality to it, like the decision has been made. "And I'm done with it. So unless the galaxy is literally ending, I'm not leaving until we've had a chance to enjoy ourselves a little."
"And what if the galaxy is ending?"
"Then I'm sure Rex and the rest of the boys will take care of it," Echo says. He grins at you, looking proud of himself, and you laugh, shaking your head. "Until then, I'm staying here with you. And," he adds, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the side of your jaw, "you can distract me from thinking about work, if you want."
You lean into him, letting him press another kiss to your neck.
"Hmm," you murmur, pretending to think. "I guess I could do that. After all, we are supposed to be on a date."
"Exactly," he says. He smiles against your skin, and the feeling makes you shiver. "Come on, we can't let the day go to waste."
"I mean, there is one thing we can do," you say, grinning mischievously.
Echo's eyes darken, and his voice is a low rumble.
"What's that?"
You smile and stand, reaching down and tugging him up.
"Swim!"
He groans, and you laugh, ducking out of his grasp and darting for the waves. He's faster, though, and he catches you easily, his arms wrapping around your waist as he lifts you off the ground.
"Echo!" you yelp. You can hear the waves lapping against the shore, and you struggle in his grip. "Don't you dare! Don't you—"
"Sorry," he says, not sounding the least bit apologetic, and you shriek as he tosses you into the surf. You land with a splash, the cool water enveloping you, and you break the surface, pushing the wet strands of hair out of your face.
Echo is watching you, looking smug, and you glare at him.
"What's the matter?" he asks, feigning innocence. "Not having fun?"
You splutter a little, wiping the water from your eyes, and you launch yourself at him. You can't actually pick him up, and he doesn't fall, but the move does throw him off balance, and he stumbles backward, almost falling into the water. You laugh and try to shove him again, but his arm comes around your waist, holding you steady.
"Is that how it's going to be?"
You grin, and the two of you wrestle, the sounds of your laughter carrying over the waves.
"Oh, no, please!" Echo yelps. He tries to fend you off, and you laugh, ducking around his arms and splashing water up at him. "Mercy!"
"Never," you declare. You grab his shoulders, and he lets you push him under the waves. He comes up sputtering, and his arm comes around your waist, dragging you down with him.
You both surface, and Echo is laughing, the sound loud and free and happier than you've ever heard him. It sends a surge of warmth through your chest, and before you can stop yourself, you're leaning in and kissing him.
Echo kisses you back, his hands finding your waist. He's warm against you, even with the cool water lapping around your bodies, and his lips are soft and gentle. It's the opposite of the way you usually kiss him, all tongue and teeth and bruising hands, and it makes your chest ache, makes the longing that's always present whenever he's around swell a little bigger.
He must feel it too, because his grip on you tightens, and he hauls you closer, the two of you clinging to each other like your life depends on it.
When you break apart, he doesn't let go, and neither do you. The two of you stand there for a long time, breathing in sync, and for a moment, everything seems to slow. There's no war, no missions, no responsibilities or tasks. There's just you and him and the feeling of the ocean around you, the two of you pressed so close together it's hard to tell where one of you ends and the other begins.
“So,” he starts, his forehead pressing against yours. “What else do normal couples do on dates, anyway?"
You grin and step back, taking his hand.
"Come on, I'll show you."
And you do. The two of you spend the afternoon walking along the beach, collecting shells and talking, and occasionally, the two of you find yourselves making out like a couple of teenagers, hands roaming over each other and mouths moving frantically together. It's not until the sun is beginning to set that the two of you finally wander back up the hill to the house, and by the time you're back in the kitchen, Echo has you pinned against the counter, his mouth hot and demanding against yours.
"We're supposed to be getting ready for dinner," you mumble, even as you tilt your head, giving him better access to your neck.
"Fuck dinner," Echo growls. He nips at the skin just below your ear, and you moan, your nails digging into his shoulders. "I need you."
You're both still wet from the water, and you can feel him, hot and hard and pressing insistently against your hip. Your own desire surges, and suddenly the thought of a crowded restaurant or a stuffy dining room is the last thing you want.
"I've got a better idea," you murmur, and he groans against your neck.
"Tell me," he breathes, and the feeling of his breath against your skin makes you shiver.
"Shower," you manage. The word has barely left your lips before he's pulling away, tugging you after him as he heads for the stairs.
The two of you don't make it far, and neither of you seems to care. As soon as the door to the bedroom is closed behind him, he's crowding you up against it, his hands sliding under your shirt and his mouth hot on yours. You can feel him, hard and insistent against you, and he groans, grinding his hips against you.
"Gods, I missed this," he pants. He nips at your ear, his teeth scraping across the skin. "Missed you. Missed touching you and kissing you and—"
"Shower," you repeat, gasping as he bites down on your shoulder. "Now.”
"Whatever you want," he mumbles.
He pulls back, and the two of you race down the hall, stripping out of your clothes as you go. He's in the fresher before you, the water already on, and by the time you step in behind him, he's got his back pressed to the tile, his cock hard and heavy between his legs.
You step inside, the water cascading down around the two of you, and Echo's gaze drops, raking over your body. You can see him, taking in the way the water streams over your skin, and the way his eyes darken sends a thrill through you.
You don't bother teasing him. Instead, you push him up against the wall, dropping to your knees and pressing a line of kisses down his stomach. His hand drops to your hair, tangling in the wet strands, and he lets out a choked moan.
"This is a date, right?" you ask, smiling innocently up at him. He nods, his gaze fixed firmly on you, and his grip on your hair tightens. "Good. I've always wanted to give someone a blowjob on a first date."
"Oh, fuck," he moans, and his head thumps back against the wall.
You take him into your mouth, and his fingers tighten in your hair. You look up at him, watching as his expression twists, his brow furrowing and his jaw clenching, and the sight sends a thrill through you.
Echo isn't big on talking during sex. Most of the time, it's just groans and whines, with the occasional curse or muttered endearment. But now, his words seem to be spilling from his lips, the filthiest things you've ever heard pouring out as you suck and lick and take him deeper into your mouth.
"Yes, just like that," he groans, his hips jerking a little. His scomp slides up the wall, searching for purchase, and the sound of the metal scraping against the tile sends a rush of heat through you. "Your mouth is so good, sweetheart. So perfect. Fuck, I can't wait to get inside you."
His fingers are tangled in your hair, not pulling or tugging, just holding you in place. You're practically dripping, and you can feel your cunt clench, the ache in your core growing with every filthy thing that falls from his lips.
"Look at you," he mutters, his voice ragged. His eyes are fixed on the spot where his cock disappears into your mouth, and you hum, the vibrations making him shiver. "Gorgeous. Look so good on your knees for me."
You keep going, working him over until his voice is cracking, his words dissolving into incoherent moans and gasps.
"Fuck," he hisses, his hips stuttering a little. He's close, you can tell, his muscles trembling and his breathing ragged. "Stop. Need— want to—"
He tugs at your hair, trying to pull you off, and you ignore him, keeping up the pace. His words dissolve into a string of curses, and you look up at him, blinking innocently and hollowing your cheeks.
That's all it takes.
"Shit," he manages. "I'm— I'm gonna—"
His cock twitches, and his eyes squeeze shut, his face twisting as he comes, his mouth falling open. He shudders, and you swallow, keeping your eyes on him as his chest heaves, his muscles quivering.
You keep going until he's trembling, his hand pushing weakly at your head, and you let him slide from your lips, sitting back on your heels and grinning up at him. He's slumped against the wall, looking absolutely wrecked, and you smirk, reaching for the bottle of shampoo and standing up.
"Feel good?" you ask, and he nods, his eyes glazed and his lips parted.
"So good," he mumbles. "Need a minute."
"Take your time," you say, stepping around him and putting a generous amount of shampoo in your hands. You work it into your hair, feeling him watching you, and you smile to yourself, humming as you wash the salt from your skin.
"You're evil," he murmurs. He presses up behind you, his mouth dropping to the side of your neck.
"I think the term you're looking for is generous," you tease.
"That, too."
He kisses the spot just below your ear, his teeth grazing against the skin. His hand finds your waist, and his scomp slides up your arm, tugging your hand away from your hair.
"Let me," he murmurs, and you nod. He gently works the suds out, his hand running through your hair and sending pleasant shivers down your spine. His scomp slides down, brushing over the side of your breast, and his other hand joins, the water raining down on the two of you.
"You're beautiful," he says, and you turn your head, looking back at him. He's watching you, his expression open and unguarded, and there's a look in his eyes that makes your breath catch in your throat. "I'm so lucky."
"Echo," you start, but the words die on your lips as his scomp skims lower, brushing against your hip and slipping between your legs. The tip finds your clit, and you gasp, arching back against him.
"So beautiful," he repeats. He rubs tight circles over your clit, his scomp moving slowly, almost lazily, and you lean back, resting your head on his shoulder. His arm comes around your waist, and his hand slides up to cup your breast, his thumb rubbing against the nipple. "You're amazing, sweetheart. I love watching you."
You moan and turn your head to press your mouth against his. He kisses you, his hand cupping your jaw, and you gasp as his scomp moves a little faster.
"I love the noises you make," he murmurs. He nips at the corner of your jaw, his tongue darting out to soothe the sting. "Love the way you taste, the way you feel."
He's everywhere, his lips pressing against the side of your neck, his hand sliding down your stomach and between your legs, his fingers brushing against where you're aching for him. He presses them into you, and his thumb replaces his scomp, the tip tracing patterns over your thigh as his fingers curl, finding that spot inside of you that makes you shudder.
"Echo," you gasp, the sound practically a sob. You reach back, grabbing onto his neck, and he hums, his arm tightening around you.
"I love being inside you," he says, and his voice is ragged, the sound sending a pulse of heat through you. His cock is hard again, pressing insistently against your ass, and his hips grind forward, the feeling of his body against yours sending a rush of warmth through you.
"Want that," you gasp. "Want you."
"You have me," he murmurs. He adds a third finger, and you whine, your nails digging into his neck.
"Not enough."
He grins against your skin, and the motion makes something inside you snap. You're suddenly desperate for him, for the feeling of him filling you up and driving away the ache that's been building for weeks. You try and turn, but his arm keeps you in place, and he chuckles, his thumb moving a little faster.
"Wait," he says.
"Echo, please," you beg, and he groans, his teeth grazing over your skin.
"Patience," he murmurs. "You can wait a little longer."
He presses his lips to the side of your neck, and his fingers work, curling and thrusting and making your whole body go tight. His arm is solid around you, holding you in place, and the thought of him, surrounding you, pinning you to the spot and taking what he wants, sends a rush of heat through you.
"Please," you whisper, and his fingers twist, his thumb moving faster. "I'm gonna—"
"Yeah," he breathes. "That's it. Come for me, sweetheart. Let me see you."
The sound of his voice, the feeling of his fingers moving inside you and his cock pressed against you is too much. You break, coming with a loud cry, and he keeps going, working you through it. Your body goes limp, and Echo holds you, keeping his fingers buried inside you and his scomp drawing tight circles over your clit. You whimper and try to push him away, the sensations too much, but he doesn't stop, not until a second wave hits and you're writhing, clinging to him for dear life.
By the time he finally pulls away, your legs are trembling, and you're panting, slumped against him and unable to do anything but whimper as he turns the water off and steps out of the shower.
You don't register him drying you off or lifting you and carrying you down the hall, and it's not until the door to the bedroom closes behind him that your brain finally clears enough to form coherent thoughts.
"Echo," you say.
He looks down at you, smiling softly, and he kisses you, the press of his lips warm and gentle. He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't need to. He lays you down on the bed, his eyes drinking in every inch of you, and it's so tender, so sweet that the emotion wells up, filling your chest until you're sure it will burst.
It's only been a few weeks, but it feels like a lifetime. The longing, the worry, the fear... it's been eating away at you, and being here with him, like this, makes the stress and anxiety from the past month melt away, leaving you feeling more at peace than you have in weeks.
He's always been the calm in the storm. You've lost track of the number of times you've lain awake at night, wondering if this was the last time, if this would be the one where something went wrong and neither of you came home. He's always been there, a solid presence, an unwavering support, and the thought of losing him is almost too much to bear.
But here, in this moment, there's nothing but the two of you. There's no war, or missions, or fighting or running. It's just the two of you, wrapped up in each other, safe and warm and together.
And in that moment, you're so happy, you think your heart might explode.
He lays down next to you, his hand finding your waist, and you kiss him, your hands cupping his jaw and stubble scraping across your palms. It's gentle and unhurried, the two of you taking the time to relearn each other. The feeling of his mouth against yours, his skin under your hands, his body pressed against you is almost overwhelming, and you find yourself clinging to him, holding him as close as you can and trying to commit the feeling to memory.
It's not until he rolls on top of you that the slow, lazy pace breaks.
You gasp, his mouth hot and demanding against yours, and his cock presses insistently against your thigh. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, and he groans, grinding his hips down.
"Want you," you manage. Your hands run over his back, sliding down and gripping his ass.
"You have me," he says, his voice rough. He kisses down your neck, nipping and biting at the soft skin.
"Inside," you gasp, and he moans, his mouth dropping lower, his lips moving over the swell of your breasts.
"Yeah," he breathes. "Yeah, I want that."
"Come on," you say, pushing at his shoulders. He sits up and kneels between your legs, and he reaches down, stroking his cock and giving it a firm squeeze. He looks massive from this angle, his broad chest and shoulders towering over you, and the sight makes something clench deep in your core.
"I don't want to rush," he murmurs, his gaze dropping to the apex of your thighs. "Want to take my time."
You sit up, and his hand finds your waist, pulling you forward and into his lap. Your arms wind around his neck, and his scomp slides up the length of your back, pressing you closer.
"We have time," you tell him, and his eyes are dark and soft and full of a tenderness that makes your heart flutter.
"Yeah," he says. "We do."
You press a kiss to his cheek, and his hand drops between the two of you, gripping his cock and lining it up with your entrance. His mouth finds yours as the thick head slides into you, and it's slow, so agonizingly slow, you're sure he's trying to drive you insane.
You don't remember him being this big.
You know that's ridiculous, that of course he's still the same size, but the thought has a whimper falling from your lips. You try and grind down, needing more, but his arm comes around, pinning you to his chest, and he shakes his head.
"You're killing me," you mutter, and his teeth flash in the fading sunlight, his eyes dancing.
"I can stop," he teases.
"Don't you dare," you say, and he chuckles, pressing another kiss to your lips.
He keeps going, the steady, agonizing pressure of his cock pushing inside making your whole body go tense. You can feel the way he's stretching you open, the way your body has to make room for him, and the thought makes your mind blank, the ache in your core growing.
By the time he's finally, finally all the way inside, the two of you are breathing heavily. He’s so deep, deeper than anyone else has ever been, and the stretch is just shy of painful. It makes your hips jerk a little, and Echo lets out a moan, his hand finding your hip and his fingers digging into the soft skin.
"You're perfect," he mumbles, and you laugh, the sound turning into a moan as he grinds his hips up, pushing a little deeper.
You cling to him, his arms coming around you and pulling you closer. His forehead drops to your shoulder, and you wrap your legs around his waist, letting him pull you closer, as close as possible. The two of you stay like that, holding each other and letting the sensation wash over you.
Eventually, the pressure becomes too much, and you start to squirm, shifting and rocking your hips. Echo takes the hint and starts to move, and the first slow, lazy thrust makes the both of you moan.
He starts a rhythm, and it's like the entire galaxy has narrowed down to just the two of you. Nothing else matters, just the feeling of his cock sliding into you, the warmth of his breath on your neck, the feeling of his heartbeat against your skin.
You know how much he loves being inside you. He's always told you, whispered it against the skin of your neck, moaned it in the dead of night, panted it while you rode him, the words falling from his lips like a prayer. He never seems to tire of it, always desperate to get as deep as possible, and sometimes, you've wondered if there's a part of him that's afraid this will be the last time.
But he's never done it like this.
He's never held you in his arms and pressed kisses to your skin, his hand and scomp running reverently over every inch of your body. He's never taken his time, his hips rocking forward in a steady, measured rhythm, his mouth finding yours again and again. He's never let himself drown in the feeling of it, his eyes half-closed and his face twisted in an expression of pure bliss.
He's never made love to you before.
You've never put a name to it, the way the two of you are together. You've always been careful not to call it anything, knowing that doing so would cross a line neither of you wanted to. It's dangerous, the sort of thing that can break hearts and destroy lives, and you'd both known it. So you'd never said it, never acknowledged it, and had kept it to yourselves, locked away where no one else could ever see.
But now, with his arms wrapped around you, his touch tender and his mouth soft against yours, there's no other word for it. It's the only explanation for the feeling, the one that's welling up inside of you and threatening to swallow you whole, and the realization sends a thrill through you, settling in the pit of your stomach and burning like a sun.
He's making love to you.
You hold him closer, your hand gripping the back of his neck, and his lips find yours, warm and soft. He doesn't say anything, his gaze fixed firmly on your face, and his brow is furrowed, his jaw clenched and his eyes burning.
"So beautiful," he mumbles. His hand runs over your waist, squeezing lightly, and he lets out a shaky breath. "I love this. Love you."
Your breath catches, and for a second, it feels like the world stops. The only sound is his breathing, the only feeling is his hand on your skin, and the only thing that exists is him.
"Echo," you whisper, and his name is a question, the only thing you can manage.
He doesn't seem to hear you, or maybe he doesn't understand.
"Love seeing you like this," he mumbles, his gaze flitting over your face. "Love touching you, love being with you. I don't—"
He breaks off, and his head drops, his nose brushing against your jaw. His breathing is ragged, and his grip on you tightens, and something tells you he didn't mean to say that, didn't mean for those words to fall from his lips.
His hips slow, and he holds you closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck and taking a deep, shuddering breath. You can feel him, his entire body trembling, and you pull him closer, your fingers cradling the back of his head and holding him against you.
"It's okay," you say softly, pressing a kiss to his temple.
His scomp skims down your back, the metal still warm from the sun and the warm water. It's a tender gesture, and the fact that he's using it to hold you, instead of his hand, is a testament to how far the two of you have come.
"I love this," he murmurs, and you know what he means.
He doesn't want to leave, doesn't want to go back to the war and the fighting and the constant struggle. He wants to stay, with you, just like this, forever. And as much as you want that, the two of you both know it's not an option.
"Me too," you murmur.
"I wish..."
"Yeah," you breathe. "Me too."
"I love you," he says again.
You swallow, and there's a lump in your throat, a feeling that seems to settle over you, making your skin feel warm and your pulse thrum. You're not sure what it is, but you know that this, whatever it is, is important, that it means something, and the sudden urge to run from it, to shove it down and push it away, is strong. But Echo’s always been there for you, a steady, unwavering presence, and even though you're terrified, the knowledge that he's here, that he won't leave, settles something in you, and the feeling starts to shift.
Instead of the warmth, it's like a fire, burning away the anxiety and the fear, and the knowledge that comes with it makes you feel lighter than you have in months. You're not sure what it means, or what you'll do with it, but there's a sense of comfort in it, and the smile that stretches across your face is genuine.
"I love you, too," you say.
He makes a strangled noise, and his grip on you tightens, his fingers digging into the skin.
"I love you," he repeats, the words falling from his lips. "Force, I love you. So much. I love you."
He says it over and over, the words spilling out of him. He's still hard inside you, and the feeling sends a bolt of heat through you, your cunt clenching around him. He gasps, his hips grinding forward, and he moans, the sound muffled against your skin.
"Please," you whimper, your nails scraping against the back of his neck.
"Anything," he gasps, and his hips start to move, slow and steady.
It's not frenzied, or frantic, and it doesn't need to be. You have time, all the time in the world, and for once, neither of you are trying to race the clock. He's gentle, his movements languid and unhurried, every thrust like a wave, pulling you deeper and deeper.
He's murmuring the whole time, his voice low and rough, the words tumbling from his lips. He's talking about everything, about the way he feels about you, about the things he wants, the places he wants to take you. It's filthy, and sweet, and so perfect, and you let the words wash over you, reveling in the feeling of him inside you and the way his voice makes your stomach clench.
"Echo," you whine, your thighs tightening around his waist. "Close."
"I've got you," he murmurs. His hand slips between the two of you, his thumb finding the swollen, slippery bud of your clit, rubbing slow circles over it. "That's it, sweetheart. Come for me."
The pleasure builds, slowly and steadily, until you can't think, can't breathe, can't do anything but feel. It's intense and intimate, Echo's eyes fixed firmly on your face, his lips parted in awe. You feel open, exposed, vulnerable, and the only thing that makes it bearable is the fact that he's right there with you, his expression twisted and his muscles trembling, his control slipping more and more with each passing second.
"Please," you beg, and his hips speed up, his rhythm faltering as he starts to lose his grip.
"Come for me," he gasps. "Let go. I'll take care of you."
And you do, his words sending a flood of warmth through you, spreading out until you can feel it everywhere, in every part of your body. Your cunt pulses, clenching around him, and Echo groans, his eyes squeezing shut and his mouth dropping open.
"Fuck," he chokes out. He doesn't slow, doesn't stop, just keeps fucking you through it, and you're shaking, clinging to him and shuddering as the pleasure keeps building. "Shit, sweetheart. You feel so good."
"Love the way you feel," you manage, your voice hoarse and strained. "So full. Love your cock, love you."
He curses, his hips jerking, and his scomp digs into the skin of your back, holding you tighter. His hand leaves your clit, and he grabs your thigh, wrapping his arm around your leg and hiking it higher. The angle changes, and he hits something inside of you that makes you sob, his hips snapping forward.
"Again," he grunts.
You nod, the feeling so intense that you can't manage words. You're practically sobbing, the sounds falling from your lips without thought, and Echo's gaze is fixed on you, his expression hungry and awestruck.
"Fuck," he growls, his thrusts getting more and more erratic. "Come on, sweetheart. Want to feel you. Wanna watch you come. Gonna fill you up. Make you mine."
It's filthy, the things he's saying, and you're lost in him, his hand gripping your waist and his scomp pressed into the small of your back. His gaze is burning, and it feels like the room is spinning, like the world is coming apart at the seams and there's nothing left but the two of you, moving together.
"I can't—"
"That's it," he encourages, his voice rough. He's shaking, and you know he's close. "One more. Come on."
You can feel the tears sliding down your cheeks, and his eyes are wide, his expression stunned.
"Please," you gasp. "Echo, please."
"Fuck," he breathes.
It's like a switch has been flipped, and the slow, steady pace falls apart, his thrusts hard and fast. He surges forward, your back hitting the bed, and his scomp slides under your back, lifting you off the mattress.
It's too much, the new angle and the way he's staring at you, and a sob breaks from your throat, your fingers twisting in the sheets.
"Gorgeous," he breathes. "You're perfect. I love you."
There's a moment, a heartbeat where it seems like everything is suspended. His eyes are wide, and he looks almost... shocked, as if he can't believe what's happening, and something tells you that it's not just about this, about the two of you. It's bigger, somehow, deeper and more profound and the feeling that washes over you is pure, unadulterated joy.
And you can see it on his face, in the way his eyes widen and his mouth drops open. He looks like he's about to burst, and it's so raw, so perfect, and the realization hits you like a blaster bolt.
He's happy.
He's the happiest you've ever seen him, and the fact that it's because of you is overwhelming.
"Love you," he murmurs, and it's the last thing either of you say before the feeling crashes over the two of you.
You cry out, and the dam breaks. The pleasure rushes through you, hot and cold, and the waves break, sweeping over the both of you and carrying you away.
You come with a choked gasp, his name on your lips and his fingers digging into the skin of your thigh. His hips snap forward, and he grinds into you, his face twisting and a loud moan falling from his mouth at the way your body pulls him in, squeezing and pulsing around him.
"Oh, fuck," he breathes.
You cling to him, your eyes fixed on his face. He's beautiful like this, his lips parted and his cheeks flushed, his expression twisted into an expression of pure ecstasy. He holds himself there, buried to the hilt inside you as he starts to come, the first pulse of heat making you whimper.
You can feel his cock twitch, and his brow furrows, a broken sob falling from his lips. His grip on your thigh tightens, and his hips start to stutter, grinding into you and filling you up, his come dripping from you. He lets out another choked noise, and he falls forward, his weight settling on top of you and his mouth finding yours.
"So perfect," he pants, his hips rocking forward a few more times, his movements lazy and slow.
You can't respond, still gasping for air, and you can feel the way he's twitching, the way his body is shaking. It feels like forever before the feeling finally fades and Echo pulls back slightly, mindful of his weight. You can feel him dripping from where the two of you are connected, and you bite your lip, looking up at him through your lashes.
"Hi," you whisper, and he laughs, the sound breathless and a little giddy.
"Hi," he replies, grinning.
Echo's chest is heaving, his muscles quivering, and he looks absolutely wrecked. He's staring at you, his lips parted and his eyes wide, and he's looking at you the way people look at the sun after they've spent too long in the dark, like he's seeing something for the first time and never wants to look away.
"I love watching you," he says, his voice raw and hoarse. "Wish you could see yourself."
"Yeah?"
He nods and reaches up, brushing a strand of damp hair out of your face.
"So gorgeous," he murmurs. "Perfect. Wish I could stay inside you forever."
You hum, and his gaze drops, watching as he finally slides out, a trickle of his release following. He swallows, and he reaches down, his thumb slipping between your folds.
"Echo," you whine, your hips jerking a little.
"Gonna miss that," he mumbles, his tone almost dreamy.
"We've got a few days," you remind him. "And I'm not done with you yet."
He grins, and it's so boyish, so genuine and unguarded, that you find yourself reaching for him. Your hands slide up his chest, over the broad expanse of his shoulders and his neck, and your fingers brush over the spot just below his ear, tracing the edge of his jaw.
Echo leans into your touch, his eyes closing, and his head turns, his lips pressing against the inside of your wrist. You shiver and lean forward, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. He wrinkles it, his eyes still closed, and you can't help the laugh that falls from your lips.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing," you say, and he cracks one eye open, looking suspicious.
"You're laughing," he accuses.
"Because you're adorable."
His lips part, and his eyebrows rise. He doesn't say anything, but his face flushes, his cheeks going pink, and you grin.
"That's the last word I'd use to describe myself," he mutters. “Especially when I’m still inside you.”
"I think I'm the best judge of that," you point out, and he smirks, his eyes glinting.
"Well, if that's the case, I'd have to say the same about you," he teases, and he leans forward, nipping at the soft skin just below your ear. You yelp, and he chuckles, pressing another kiss to your shoulder before he pulls away, searching for his pants.
"Where are you going?" you whine.
"To order food," he says. He tugs his pants on, and the sight of him, completely naked except for the loose fitting black cargo pants, is enough to make your mouth water. "I'm starving, and if I'm going to keep this up, I'm gonna need my strength."
"You mean it?" you ask.
He raises an eyebrow.
"Did you really think I'd pass up the opportunity to have sex with the woman I love all day? In an actual bed? With an actual door that locks?"
Your heart flutters, and you grin.
"No, but I'm still glad to hear it."
"Good," he says. He walks back over, leaning down and kissing you, his lips warm and his stubble scraping against your skin.
"Order some food," you murmur, and he nods. "And maybe a bottle of wine."
"Whatever you want," he says. He steps away, and his gaze flits over you, taking in the way you're sprawled across the bed, still naked and covered in sweat and your combined release. He swallows and shakes his head, backing toward the door.
"I'll be back soon," he promises. He points a finger at you. "Don't move."
You give him a salute, and he grins, his eyes dancing.
"I love you," he says, and it's so easy, the words falling from his lips like they've always been there.
"I love you," you tell him, and the smile he gives you is enough to light up the entire room.
The door closes behind him, and you collapse back onto the pillows, closing your eyes and letting yourself revel in the feeling of the bed beneath you, the cool air drifting over your heated skin, and the lingering ache between your thighs.
This isn't how you imagined this week would go. You'd thought that it would be a brief respite, a chance to relax before heading back to the fight. You'd expected a week of stress and anxiety, of wondering if it would be the last one, and whether or not you'd get to spend any of it with the man we’re falling for despite your better judgement.
Instead, you're here, lying in a bed, in a place where there's no war and no missions and no responsibilities. For the first time in months, there's no one depending on you, no one waiting for you to save them, and no one demanding things from you that you're not sure you can give.
It's peaceful, and it's perfect, and the thought that Echo, the man who's seen and experienced more than anyone should ever have to, feels the same makes you smile.
For the first time since the war started, everything is good.
You let your eyes fall closed, and the sound of the waves is soothing, the faint noise carrying up the hill.
In the end, it's not the ocean or the house or the fact that for once, you have nothing to do.
It's him.
Echo.
He's the reason this feels like home.
And in the end, you know that's the only thing that really matters.
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Omg congrats on so many followers! That's so amazing and so well deserved! Might I request Echo and Female reader and the sort of prompt is kissing as a disguise? (It can absolutely get a bit spicy too fyi :0) Oh also can reader just be someone who has been with the batch long enough to be familiar with them and such? Thank you!!! x <3
Kiss Me Quick*** 🌊
🫧 pairing: Echo X Female!Reader
word count: 2.7k
prompts: none
When you and Echo pair up to track a missing shipment for Cid, you both didn’t anticipate that it would end with you two finding somewhere to be alone.
warnings: Light NSFW, 17+ only, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Fake Dating Trope, Steamy Kisses, Neck Kisses and Bites, Touchy-feely, Minor Alcohol Consumption, Reader Wearing a Dress.
a/n: sorry for the wait @mezmatch, enjoy 🫧
“What does she want now?” you muttered, a familiar mix of irritation and reluctance bubbling up.
All you wanted was a rare day of relaxation, but fate, also known as Cid, had other plans.
“Probably to do her dirty work for very little credit,” Echo sighed, shaking his head in agreement.
After taking a moment to mentally prepare, you stepped into Cid’s cluttered office. The Trandoshan greeted you with her usual disdain, referring to you as ‘grumps’ and Echo as ‘killjoy’.
When you asked for details, she waved you off dismissively and activated the console in the center of her office. A large hologram of a notorious crime lord flickered to life. Cid began outlining the mission: gathering information on a shipment of weapons for a mysterious client. But you sensed there was more to it than she was letting on. There always was.
“This is a two-person job, and you two are the perfect candidates,” Cid announced, moving around her desk to take a seat. Her large claws tapped rhythmically across the surface. “And you two lovebirds get to dress up.”
“Could you not get—wait, what? Lovebirds?” You raised an eyebrow, glancing at Echo, who looked equally confused, albeit slightly more flustered.
Cid smirked, looking between the two of you. “Omega said you two were a thing.”
“No, we are not a ‘thing,’” Echo said, using air quotes and shaking his head. “But more to the point, what do you mean by dress up?”
“Don’t worry,” Cid said, her smirk widening. “Bolo and Ketch are on it.”
You folded your arms and stared down at Cid. “I don’t think taking fashion advice from those two is a great idea.”
Cid shrugged casually, waving you both off. “Don’t worry about it. Now, get out.”
Relieved, you left the office with the door hissing shut behind you. “Well, this could be interesting,” you sighed.
Echo agreed with a small mumble, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “Uh, why do you think Omega said that about us?”
“You know what she’s like,” you chuckled, not thinking too much into it. “She sees Hunter speaking to literally anyone and asks me if I think Hunter fancies them. She’s trying to play matchmaker.”
“Fair point,” Echo chuckled, but your conversation was soon interrupted by the sound of bickering. Bolo and Ketch entered the parlor, making a beeline straight to you both.
What had Cid gotten you into now?
That evening, the Marauder settled into hyperspace as you and Echo dressed in the outfits Cid’s regulars had picked out for you. Surprisingly, they hadn’t done too bad.
You slipped into a sleek, form-fitting dress in deep sapphire blue, which shimmered with your every movement. It was a far cry from your usual battle-worn attire, but you felt unexpectedly good in it.
Entering the cockpit, smoothing out the dress, you spotted Echo struggling with his cufflinks. “Can I help you with that?” you offered.
Echo was seated at the controls, and as he looked up, he did a double-take. None of the boys had ever seen you dressed so glamorously before. For a second, he thought you were a completely different person. His fingers stumbled, dropping the links as he tsked at himself in embarrassment. “Getting dressed in this kind of stuff is hard when you only have one hand,” he admitted, bending down to pick them up.
You moved closer, gently reaching out to help. “Here, let me.”
As you fixed the links to his cuffs, you also adjusted his slightly askew collar. Echo took a moment to truly look at you, noticing how stunning you looked. Though he had always found you beautiful, tonight you looked especially radiant. He didn’t say anything, but the soft smile on his face spoke volumes.
“There,” you said, stepping back. “All set.”
“Thanks,” Echo replied, his voice a little softer than usual. “You look…”
Gorgeous.
Pretty.
Beautiful.
“…really nice.”
He inwardly cringed at himself but saw your eyes shine at his compliment, which was clearly enough for you. And surprisingly, enough for him too.
You smiled, feeling a warmth creep up your cheeks. “You don’t look too shabby yourself, Sir,”
As you arrived, the grandeur of the event immediately struck you. Shimmering chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, casting a glittering glow over the sea of elegantly dressed guests. The room buzzed with the hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses, opulent decorations reflecting the wealth and status of the attendees.
Despite feeling out of place, you couldn’t help but be intrigued by the luxurious surroundings. However, the mission was clear: infiltrate the event, locate the stolen shipment of weapons, and report back to Cid.
Moving through the crowd, you exchanged pleasantries with other guests, trying to get a sense of the situation. Your eyes continuously scanned for any sign of the crime lord or his associates, whose images Cid had ingrained in your minds. Despite the lavish setting, your nerves were on edge. You felt grateful to be teamed up with Echo; his presence gave you a sense of calm in case things went awry.
“I’m going to head right to see if I can catch a lead. Are you okay with going to the left?” Echo asked, his voice steady.
You smiled in agreement at his plan. He gave you a reassuring nod before you split up to cover more ground. You gravitated toward the bar and ordered a cocktail to blend in. The bartender handed you a drink that was a mesmerizing swirl of deep blue and violet, almost matching your dress. It had hints of citrus and a subtle sweetness that lingered on the tongue. You sipped it slowly, your eyes and ears open to any useful information.
As you listened to the murmurs around you, a light tap on your shoulder made you turn. Standing before you was the crime lord himself, tall and imposing in a sharp suit, exuding an aura of controlled menace. He offered a charming, if slightly unsettling, smile.
“Enjoying the evening?” he asked, his tone smooth and courteous.
You maintained your composure, smiling back. “It’s quite the event. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
He leaned on the bar, his eyes gleaming with interest. “I’m glad you’re having a good time. It’s rare to see such beauty in these parts.”
From across the room, Echo’s gaze snapped to the scene. His posture tensed as he watched the exchange, a mix of concern and an unrecognizable pang twisting in his gut as he saw you speaking with the man. Without hesitation, he made his way over, weaving through the crowd.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were flirting with me,” you said, forcing a smile as you twirled the straw in your drink.
“And if I was?” he countered, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Or are you spoken for?”
Before you could answer, another familiar voice spoke up beside you. “Is everything alright over here?”
Relief washed over you as you saw Echo. When he reached you, you took a bold step, leaning into him, looping your arm through his, and resting your head against his shoulder. “This is my better half,” you said with a sweet smile, hoping the ruse would deter the crime lord from his advances.
Echo, catching on quickly, wrapped his arm around your waist, playing along. “Good evening,” he greeted, his voice steady.
The crime lord’s eyes flickered between you both, a calculating look crossing his face before he let out a chuckle. “A lucky man, indeed,” he said.
“I am,” Echo started, shifting his position before looking across at you. “Has my love asked you about our proposal?”
You stayed silent, allowing Echo to take the reins. Although you should have been paying attention, you couldn’t help but gaze at Echo, watching his lips move but not processing his words. His fingers gently caressed your waist, providing comfort and security. Had he always been so... alluring?
You felt breathless and almost flinched when Echo’s gaze suddenly locked onto you.
“W-What?” you stammered.
Echo raised an eyebrow at you, his hand slipping from your waist, leaving you feeling suddenly cold. “Did you hear what he said?” Echo asked, concern flickering in his eyes.
You blinked, overwhelmed, and took a step back as you realised you were in a whole different realm it seemed. You hadn’t even noticed that the crime lord had left. “Sorry, I... I think I blanked out for a moment,” you admitted, frowning.
He watched you curiously and politely took the drink from your hand, placing it on the bar. “Maybe lay off these?” he suggested with a soft chuckle.
You rolled your eyes, playfully nudging his shoulder. “I only had half of one,” you reiterated, not feeling up to explaining the real reason for your distraction. “Anyway, what intel did you get?”
“He said the shipment is being moved to the docks. I told him we were thinking of getting in on the score.”
You raised an impressed eyebrow. “And he even didn’t question it?”
“Not particularly, no. But it’s best we keep our wits about us,” Echo pointed out, scanning the surroundings before his eyes landed on you again. “We should still ask around or listen for more information, just in case he’s misleading us.”
Agreeing, you and Echo split up once again. But you couldn't lie and say your mind wasn't elsewhere. Echo was definitely boyfriend material for anyone, but you never thought you'd find yourself wanting Echo to be your actual boyfriend. He settled into the role so easily that you wondered if he had done it once before in his 501st days.
Your thoughts were interrupted when a short yet intimidating associate of the crime lord blocked your path, his eyes sharp and scrutinising. “I hear you and your partner are interested in our operation,” he said suspiciously. “What’s your angle?”
“No angle,” you lied smoothly, tilting your head down at him. “It’s just business.”
“Well darling, your business is now my business.” He stepped towards you, but you didn’t back down and held your ground.
A smirk spread across your lips. “I don’t think it is. Besides, it’s your boss I have business with, not his little pup.”
The man’s eyes flared with anger at your words, feeling the sting of your insult. “I don’t trust you, or your little boyfriend. If he even is who you say he is.”
“If I had a credit for every time I didn’t care about your opinion, I wouldn’t have to do this,” you countered, placing your fists on your hips. “Now run along.”
The man muttered something under his breath and stalked off, and you couldn’t help but release the small breath you were holding. If that guy was wary of you and Echo, you were certain the others would catch on too.
You located Echo across the hall and swiftly made your way over to him, gently clutching his arm. “We should get going.”
“What, why?” he asked, looking at you and then scanning the area for any potential dangers. You told him that people were growing suspicious of you both. As you looked around, you saw the associates talking quietly to one another, occasionally glancing at you and Echo.
Your mind fell back to the associate's words, wondering why he would think you and Echo couldn’t possibly be partners. Was there anything you could do to sway their opinion?
Then, an idea clicked—a somewhat smart yet daring move.
You turned back to Echo, watching him as he scanned the environment, his hand resting on your hip. You felt a rush of wild emotions.
Letting go of his arm, your hand moved to his face, cupping his cheek and turning his face back to you softly. You met his eyes, slightly wide and curious but absolutely alluring. Leaning up, your lips landed on his.
You felt his faint gasp against your lips, but he quickly caught on to what you were doing. So, he brought you closer, his eyes fluttering closed.
At first, it started as just a peck, but as you went to pull back, his lips chased yours, not caring who or what saw.
Breaking the kiss eventually, your eyes silently spoke to each other. Without another word, Echo took your hand and led you to a quiet and secure area away from prying eyes. A flush of embarrassment suddenly surfaced, and you expected Echo to say you shouldn’t do that again. But as you turned to face him, ready to apologise, he approached you with steadfast determination and kissed you again.
Surprised, you were backed into a desk, his arm wrapping around you and lifting you onto it with ease. You gasped against his lips, holding onto his shoulders and pulling him closer. The kiss intensified, filled with pent-up emotions of the night and laced desire. His hand roamed your body, his scomp link gently tracing your waist, sending waves of shivers down your spine.
"Echo," you whispered between kisses, your voice low and gentle.
He responded with a soft murmur of your name, his lips leaving yours before trailing down your neck.
Each touch of his lips peppering on your skin made your heart race and your breaths come faster. Was this really happening?
"You’re so beautiful," he murmured against your skin, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes with a smirk. "And you look sexy dressed this way too."
The compliment sent a thrill through you, your cheeks flushing at his bold compliment. “Echo…” you could only respond again with a soft sigh, his name the only thing on your mind.
Echo's grip tightened around you, pulling you closer as if he couldn't bear to let you go. His lips moved back to your neck, and you couldn't help the small moans that escaped, your fingers digging into his shoulders as his warm tongue licked at your exposed skin, followed by a soft nip of his teeth.
"You're everything I've ever wanted," he breathed, his voice filled with sincerity and desire. Your eyes close, gasping at the realisation that Echo had had these strong feelings for you and only now is able to truly express them. You wish he had told you earlier.
His scorching kisses made you feel alive in a way you had never experienced before. The connection between you deepened with each touch, each whispered word. Tongue begging for entrance, you part your lips as soon as his lips touch yours, the passion burning through both of your bodies as your hands move up and down his chest.
“What if someone sees us?” You pant once you break for breath, physically melting as you watch his hand grasp the bottom of your dress, pulling it upwards to expose your legs.
“Then they don’t get to question what you are to me,” he mumbles, drunk in love eyes meeting yours.
His hand started to slip up under your dress, sending a shiver of anticipation through you when suddenly, a sharp beep cut through the haze of your passion.
Echo pulled back, slightly breathless, as his comm went off. Cid's voice crackled through, impatient and nagging. “What’s taking so long? I need details, now. You’re needed back.”
You both exchanged a look, a mixture of frustration and amusement, before Echo answered, his voice steady despite the interruption. “We’ll be there soon, Cid. Just wrapping up.”
He ended the call and looked back at you, his gaze softening. “We should get going.”
You nodded, feeling a bit shy after the intensity of the moment being ruined . “Yeah, we should.”
As you smoothed your dress out, you watched as Echo tried to fix his tie, which you had yanked on accidentally during the kiss. Smiling, you stepped closer and helped him adjust it. “There.”
When you were done, you both met each other's gaze again. Echo couldn’t help but place a gentle kiss on your lips. “Can we talk about what happened after the mission?” he asked softly, his eyes full of hope.
“Of course,” you replied, your heart fluttering. “I’d like that.”
You didn’t want to admit it, but you should thank Omega, and even Cid, for bringing you both together.
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🌊 Masterlist is pinned 🌊
Call Shot
ARC Trooper Echo × GN!Reader
✧ Summary: Your roommate dragged you to a billiard game (despite your little knowledge about how the game actually goes) with clones they knew from Maker knows where. One of them, though, is kind and sweetheart enough to teach you so you'll have fun, too.
✧ Tags & Warnings: reader is kinda new to billiard game, clone shenanigans (of course why would i not include this), a little alcohol, sexual innuendo, suggestive themes, i may or may have not made this an 8-ball game tutorial for dummies, i mean look at that word count i got carried away, reader's roommate is also gn, no mentions of y/n, gn reader
✧ Word Count: 5.7k
✧ A/N: A result from the initial poll! For the warning, don't worry; there's nothing explicit. Lemme tell you I'm blushing the entire time I wrote this down *cries in cuteness aggression* *chews on table*. So without further ado, please enjoy! I so recommend listening to a typical bar electronic upbeat playlist of your favorite for the ambience.
Masterlist | Read on AO3 | divider by me
You don't even know why you agreed to come. All you know is that you're probably dreading to be here. Club music with heavy bass and electronic tunes reverberate from the speaker. Though the atmosphere is focused, it reeks of competitiveness. There's almost no chatter except for the resin pool balls clacking against each other and occasional playful laughter.
Oh, how it irks your nerves. But, as long as your friend's happy, you guess. They're right, though. You've been staying in too long, buried in your remote work, that Deven thinks you were actually laying eggs and sprouting children out of them. Okay, they've got a point. You feel stiff, you need something to help you let yourself loose.
And never, for the love of stars, a billiard bar. But here you are. It's not about… you don't like them, no. You just don't like how unfamiliar it is to you, and how small and clueless you look. You've played once in the past, and if you're offered to play now, you've already forgotten everything.
Deven plays almost regularly. That Zabrak roommate of yours makes pool their hobby they even purchased and took care of their own gears. Their modular cue, their glove – it's all in the cylindrical cue case slung over their shoulder. Told you they're a decent player. You believe them. With their own gear and fierce focus and also a mathematics research assistant? Yeah sure.
You stroll through pool tables, passing people that play. There are groups, there are singles, playing on their own. Deven told you about their boyfriend, a clone trooper of the Grand Army of the Republic. Their battalion is on shore leave here on Coruscant now as they told you, so upon their insistence, fine you're coming along. For the drinks, too. It's a bar, after all.
“There they are!” a loud voice shouts, bringing your attention to one of the crowded tables. “Our beloved pool champion!”
They're clones, alright. Still in their battle-hardened white plastoid armor, in fact. You notice their blue markings, a few of them donning a few extra gears; extra chestplate and double pauldrons.
“Starting without me, boys?” The excitement in Deven’s voice is palpable. This is their field, after all. They stride over to one of the troopers with pauldrons and kiss him in both cheeks. “Hey baby. So good to see you.”
The trooper grins. “Looking great tonight, baby,” he pecks them on the lips, arm winded across their back. “Missed you. You brought company?” He glances at your direction, eyes curious.
“Yeah, my new roommate. I dragged them out with me too.” Smiling, Deven pats your back gently, introducing you, and nods to their boyfriend. “My one year boyfie, Jesse.”
“Pleasure to meet you.” You shake Jesse's offered hand curtly. He looks like a sweet and nice guy. You can't help but keep glancing, between his big ass Republic cog tattoo that covers half of his bald head and the playing table. “You boys just came back today or what?”
“Oh yeah, but this idiot can't wait to meet his beloved.” Another pauldroned trooper marches over and smacks Jesse in the back, the latter bucks forward from the force. His cheeks stretch far and wide as he turns to you. You may… or may not blush a little. This one's quite charming. “Careful, don't get too near. We haven't showered. Straight from the larties to the streets,” he playfully tells you and offers his gloved hand. “Fives, by the way.”
You introduce yourself, smiling. “Nice to meet you.”
Leaning slightly on his cue, Fives glances at you up and down. “You play?”
Feeling sheepish and out of place suddenly, you drop your gaze, your face contorts to a light grimace. “No, sorry.”
“Whaaatt?” Fives' eyes are blown wide. You two are left together for a moment as Deven and Jesse move towards their playing table. “Then what’re you doin’ here?”
“Oh y'know, Dev dragged me out so I'm stuck here, I guess,” you shrug, and you can't help but scratch the back of your head. You decide to neutralize the awkward situation when you catch a terminal for ordering on the side table. “But I'm in for the drink too!”
Still grinning, Fives waves you off and returns to the table, immediately leaning over and taking aim – turns out it's his turn, just in time. Humming to the overhead music as it's familiar to you, you take a seat at the booth as you scan the terminal and grab your drink order for the night. Nothing heavy, just soda and some tropical syrup with a little splash of spirit.
Feeling bad for coming and not contributing much in the interaction, you add in a large portion of snack platter to your order for the boys. When the server droid comes sliding in with your drink and the snack platter, your spot gets crowded momentarily with grateful faces and fingers picking at the various fried stuff. One of the troopers, whose name is Tup, takes the moment to introduce himself, and the others follow suit, leaving you feeling warm and sated and it breaks down whatever bias of your opinion that stuck to these boys in white.
“Hey, roomie!” Fives shouts from the table while you swat Hardcase away from sipping on your drink. “Why don't you play?”
“Hell no, you play!” you yell back above the music's bass, muttering sorry for accidentally hitting Kix after Hardcase apparently skitters away. You turn back to the table. “Just here hangin’. Don't wanna ruin your competitive mood with my zero experience.”
“Relax dude, we're no experts ourselves,” Jesse walks in your direction for the snack, “My bridge is still wobbly, y'know?”
You… don't know what that means. “Uh-huh.”
“Echo can teach you,” your Zabrak roommate says suddenly.
The pauldroned trooper on the other side of the table breaks out of his focus, double taking in their direction with a combined expression of clueless and shock. “Dev, what?”
“Yeah, he's the best out of us all!” Fives not so discreetly plays along, his face splits into a grin and his eyes sparkle giddily under the light, “After Deven, of course!”
Echo looks at them in disbelief, but blinks away his stupor. “Sure, why not,” he shrugs, reaching for the little chalk square. Casually chalking his cue tip, he smiles towards you, and nods to the spot at his side. “Over here, please? You can use my cue, too.”
Rolling your eyes, you give in and make your way, but not before throwing a glare at your roommate, with whom Fives strikes a blatantly loud high-fives (heh).
Dogma is already leaning over the table and striking, the cue ball hitting and pocketing the 8-ball to one of the middle pockets. Jesse audibly groans in defeat, Deven immediately calming him down. Kix quietly pockets the balls to be gathered. Fives is off to the side to freshen up. Tup chuckles and pats Dogma in the back before heading to a little terminal on the side to record the scores. It's read 4-3 for you, Dogma's side, and whoever's with him, winning. The numbers almost immediately make you feel bad, meaning they've been here quite a while.
Almost immediately, an attendant droid hovers to the table (apparently your table too now since you're playing) and pulls out a tray of collected pool balls from underneath the table, about to set it for a new game.
“The triangle thing is called the rack,” Echo explains beside you, striking up conversation. “It's racking the balls for a new game.”
Nodding, you observe the droid racking neatly, its movement neat and precise. “The 8-ball has to be in the middle?”
“Yeah. And the 1-ball always in the front.”
“Oh,” you awe, “Just noticed.”
Echo looks at you, lips curling into a small smile of your simple show of wonder. “Mhm.”
“Tup,” Kix calls a bit louder above the music, “You break, brother.”
Tup wordlessly nods – you just know he's the shy type – as he hands his cue to Dogma and reaches for another one that rests by the seating booth. You notice that it's shorter in length, and thus sturdier.
“Break is the initial shot to spread out the racked balls,” Echo says again beside you. You turn to him, but his attention is intense at Tup chalking the new cue stick's tip. He glances at you, and smirks a little at the loss painted all over your face. He jabs a thumb at Tup, who's already aiming. “That's a break cue. Shorter than the reg ones to give more control and power. You want to break it clean, as hard and as straight as possible.”
As if cued (heh), Tup launches his strike – the sturdier break cue emits a loud crack noise as it hits the cue ball hard, and true. In a blinding speed, the white ball strikes and spreads the racked ball almost evenly and totally scattered across the table, but you notice there's no other balls pocketed yet. So that has to mean it's still free for everyone. You're sure there's a term for that.
“Nice one Tup,” you watch Deven praises, giving him a thumbs up as he passes by to return the break cue, “You're learning fast.”
Sighing, Echo's stance relaxes as the game begins. But you both make no move closer to the table yet – Echo and you put some distance from the edge and give more space to the others. Turns out, Deven is with Jesse (obviously), Kix, and Hardcase on a team while on the other hand Tup and Dogma are a package, just as Fives and Echo is. You and Echo are counted as one. With these many people, you're certain even one game is going to finish quite fast.
Realizing he should've been a little more vocal because he's supposed to teach you, Echo acknowledges your silence and finds you watching Deven strikes for their turn. Shifting his cue to the other hand, he nudges your elbow gently with his. “Sorry I forgot to ask; you know anything basic about 8-ball?”
You try to rake in your scattered knowledge from the teetering edges of your mind. It's been a long time since you've played, and you've only played once. “Sort of,” you answer, shrugging.
Oh resounds in Echo's head in realization. He thinks you've never played at all, but he intently and patiently listens to the ramble of your knowledge in possession.
“Solids against stripes, avoid hitting the 8-ball. It's for the last. Basically don't try to touch anything except you're given the, uh…” you catch his raised eyebrows at your loss of term, your voice growing smaller in sheepishness, “you can move the white ball… thingy?”
“Ball-in-hand?”
“Oh that's what it's called?” you let out an awkward laugh. Echo chuckles, nodding his head, prompting you to continue. You grin at his encouragement, comfortable ease floods in your chest. “Try not to pocket the cue ball. That's foul, you give your opponent a… ball-in-hand.”
Echo briefly turns to the table when Fives' voice calls for a shot at one of the stripes. Oh, no longer open table. With a quick visual sweep of his ARC prowess, he maps the striped balls and nods approvingly when Fives pockets his object ball, no rules broken.
“It’s called scratch,” he then easily picks up where you both left off.
You silently awe at his multifocus – he was quiet and watching the table for more than 10 seconds until Fives struck for the second time, but he's able to continue your topic and provide the legal terms for the game.
“And that’s everything. Nice, for someone who doesn't even play. Occasionally,” adds Echo with emphasis after you give him a look, his smile breaks into a sly toothy grin. Forgetting one… or two, or more rules, his face lights up as he rambles, “Oh, almost everything. Cue ball must strike your object ball. If not, foul. Cue ball must hit the rail. If not, foul.”
You scrunch up your nose as you take the new stuff in. Echo can feel his heart do a mini backflip at your expression. “That's a lot of rules,” you comment.
“That's only two,” he chuckles, the noise sounding… kind of sweet in your ears. Invigorating, like music. Not the overhead electronic music, but a gentler one with the beautiful melodies of an acoustic string instrument. “Among others,” Echo says, gazing straight into your eyes, “We're just applying what's mandatory.”
You break his gaze first before you swim too far and too deep into his golden orbs. You realize his eyes are brighter than the rest. Curiosity strikes you and embeds itself in your mental list of questions to be asked later.
“Pool is one of those games where you watch and learn,” Dogma says the first time in that hour to you, who's taken to stand near you and Echo to observe the game from a better angle. His stare at you is hard, but with a note of friendliness. “You observe other people play. See how they aim, how they strike. Their stance, even.”
You nod, taking it in. “You play every time you're planetside?”
“Almost every time,” Hardcase chimes in as he passes by. His turn is already up and now he's reaching for more food and a few sips of (hopefully not your) drink. He hops onto the booth and picks up a fritter. “We haven't played for a month! Can you imagine that?! When the word came in that we're getting a week long leave, we hit this place immediately like a pack of mad rancors.”
“Cute,” you grin, turning to Echo upon instinct. “A clone haunt, huh?”
“Just us, actually,” he answers, smiling fondly, “And a few other squads from other battalions. It's a little secret, kind of.” He shrugs, then leans closer to you and lowers his voice, “The owner is, uh, a partner. To one of us, too. From our company.”
“Ah, got it,” you nod, smiling cheekily. “Lucky guy.”
“Oh yeah,” Dogma deadpans beside you, watching Kix pocketing his object ball but his cue ball doesn't even bounce against the rail. Dogma sighs, walking away from you and down the table. “That's penalty, Kix.”
The medic grunts in frustration. Jesse pats him in the back and points his cue subtly at Echo. “Your turn, brother.”
“Hey you can't give a ball-in-hand to a shiny,” Hardcase protests from his seat, still munching on his fritter, “That's cheating.”
You don't understand what shiny means, but it's definitely directed at you. While you let Echo silently lead you closer to the table by your elbow, you turn slightly at the blue-tattooed trooper. “Ya just don't like me ‘cause I didn't give you my better drink, Hardcase,” you stick out your tongue at him, and receive the same childish gesture in return. The group chuckles.
Echo tugs at your sleeve to recollect your focus to the game. “Here. I'll pick something easy for you yet,” he says, cue ball already in his hand. He observes the field for a split second. “13-ball, top right.”
You frown at his choice. At this moment, there's also 10-ball near the designated pocket by the rail, and it's closer to the pocket. “Why not the other one?” you ask him.
“Eh, it's a little trickier for you,” he shrugs, then places the cue ball behind your object ball within a considerable distance. You’d like to imagine the gears turning in his head as he does the math and stuff. “You gotta learn how to strike straight first,” Echo says again, turning to you and smiling encouragingly a little. “And true.”
“It wouldn't even pocket even if it's dead straight?”
He nods lightly, handing you his cue. “It’s a possibility.”
Echo watches you observe his cue (taken from the stands by the wall and not of his own, disappointingly) and test it for balance in your hands. “Alright, so,” you prompt – resting the cue by your foot and placing a hand on your hip, you smile sweetly at him (his heart is doing a mini backflip again), “What do I do, teach?”
It takes an extra second for Echo to break out of his stupor. You just suddenly look… daring and adorable to him. He praises your courage to even take part, albeit a little shy in the beginning. And now you're asking a lot of questions and his guidance, eager to play right. Probably not to embarrass yourself in front of the boys (it's true), but it's quite a courageous value, still, even if it's just a game.
Well, pool is a serious game, in his opinion. Every turn is precious and can't be wasted. No more of that only matters if I just hit mindset – feels like he just wants to wallop whoever says that in the back. It's always strike true and pocket.
But seeing you tonight, clueless and yet laid back, he can't help but follow your gait and mood. He's a little relaxed tonight because of you (usually he's even more tense, even more than Dogma, can you believe that, because of his pool is a serious game take), and well, it feels good meeting and talking with you. You're easy, you show that you want to follow, and you're eager to learn. Those traits captivate him naturally.
“Right, uh, here.” Standing next to you, Echo taps his own thighs, still encased in armor, and gestures for you to follow. “Stance first. Spread your legs a bit, so you get comfortable when you lean over the table.”
You can't help but suck your lips at the unintentional innuendo. Kriff, you need to get yourself together. You’ve only just played! You don't know if Echo notices too. If he does, he doesn't say anything. Blushing, you don't dare to turn around fully and look up at his… charming features. Just like Fives, minus the tattoo and goatee. Well, they're clones after all. But still…
You do as he told, putting your foot slightly behind, but not leaning over the table yet. “Next?”
Echo's expression is patient and gentle as he goes to explain, “You form a bridge. It's your hand position to rest your cue before you strike. Here, do this.”
You follow his direction; you hold out your non-dominant hand and glue your fingers together like you're doing a salute. Then you spread them out minus your thumb, its first phalange sticking out to the side.
You nod vigorously, excitement bubbling in your chest at finally getting the game right. “Uh huh?”
“Put it on the table,” Echo directs you again, “Then raise your fingers like this.” You copy his hand that's placed merely inches from yours; raising your knuckles so your spread fingers form arches. Kinda sore and stings, but you're sure you'll get used to it. “That's called open bridge,” Echo says, his cadence resounding his pride at you. “Now put your cue in between your thumb and your first knuckle. Ah, see? It's high ground advantage. Easy to strike the middle of the cue ball.”
You try to see the trajectory beyond your bridging hand. It's just as he said, the cue tip merely a couple inches right in the middle of the cue ball. “Ah, I see, okay.”
“Right, now you lean over and take aim.”
Nervously and suddenly aware, you glance around nervously, meeting the other's gazes who aren't sitting by the booth. “Sorry if this takes too long.”
“No worries, roomie. We'd been at your position too once,” Jesse nods reassuringly to you.
“Yeah, take as much time as you want,” Kix joins in, smiling a bit.
“You don't wanna be brief and just strike away after only two seconds of aiming,” Dogma lectures, his tone patient and his expression softens at you, “Aim right. This needs practice and precision.”
“Chillax, Dogma. They're just learning,” Jesse chastises him gently. The other man shrugs and moves away.
You shift your attention away and breathe your focus, leaning it and slightly bending over the table. Echo hovers by your side and slightly into your space above your body to see the trajectory. “Like this?” you ask just to be sure.
Your eyes straight at your cue ball, you can only imagine him nodding his head. “Mhm, just avoid being sore. Are you comfy?”
“Uh.” You shift your body. Yeah, uh, something's a bit not making you comfy, but all you're saying is, “I guess?”
Echo can hear the doubt in your voice, and he intends to help. Glancing down your bent body, he can feel nervous sweat gathering under his gloves. Yeah, he can spot the way your shoulders are too tense, your foot a little not right. There's a few seconds of silence – you wish you could hear his thoughts – then he pipes up, if not after gulping, “Do you mind if I–”
“Yeah yeah, go ahead,” you say easily, and you can hear a loud exhale of relief coming from him.
Echo's gentle hands on your shoulders are somewhat settling. There's a part of you hoping for a slight graze of the fabric of his gloves on your neck to feel the shivers that would feel so delic– OKAY stop. He directs you, shifting you to the side – gingerly, almost timid, but his grip is firm on you. Then he taps on your shoulder, prompting you to roll it back slightly and relax and– yeah okay that feels better. You've been too tense, just like he expected. Softly, he taps the inside of your shoe with his boot to fix your stance, his hand on your waist to steady you and lets go once he thinks it's perhaps comfortable for you.
“Okay there?” he asks.
You succeed in not glancing back at him because you're blushing furiously right now and you don't want him to see your reaction. Even a while after he lets go of you, you can still feel the ghosts of his gentle grip on your waist. “Yep, better.”
Echo sighs in relief. “Good. Now; is your dominant eyesight left or right?”
You try to squint each of your eyes back and forth. “Right, I guess?”
“It's supposed to help you. You lean over, take aim, that eye is parallel with the cue. Go try.” Batting away his nervousness and fully relying on his boldness now, Echo leans over you to line up with your eyesight – you can feel his armor pressing against your body, but he doesn't put on too much weight so he wouldn't mush you in. “See? Straight, yeah? You wanna strike as straight as possible. But get comfortable with however fits you, that's what matters.”
You relish in how proper this all looks, thanks to Echo. “Got it,” you grin, but pain strikes your arched fingers suddenly. “Uh, I think my hand's sore.”
“Just relax!” he laughs, and you enjoy the way his crow’s feet emerge in the corner of his eyes. It makes him even more charming under the light. He taps your bridge softly with his gloved hand, still smiling, “I can even see your muscles tensing.”
Nervously, you laugh along. “Well, it's my first time, trooper!”
“Kriff, if I close my eyes and sit back, pretty sure I'm listening to first-time porn audio.”
“FIVES!” the boys bark, except for Deven (who's snorting behind their hand), Kix (groaning and facepalming), and Hardcase (fallen to the floor, vibrating and clutching his stomach).
Both you and Echo bath in bashful redness, suddenly remembering that you haven't been playing on your own.
“What?! You both sound like it!” Fives protests loudly, his lips slowly split into his own trademarked shit-eating grin.
“That's still inappropriate! In public, too!” Dogma chastises.
Echo rolls his eyes. You swear you can see his cheeks darken. “Sorry about that idiot. Don't mind him,” he says in a small voice, apologetic and sheepish, his hand flying to the back of his head. Then his attention darts to your bridge hand and having just remembered your sore hand condition, he steps closer to your space and plucks off your hand by the wrist. “Here,” he offers, replacing your hand, “I'll bridge for you.”
You can't hold your giggles much longer, contained from all the completely unintentional suggestive talk and Fives' recent teasing. “So kind of you, Echo,” you remark gleefully as you side glance at him. You enjoy how his eyes widen and– yeah, that's him blushing like crazy.
Especially when both your faces are merely inches from one another.
He blinks rapidly. “Uh, just helping.”
“Right-o,” you chuckle sweetly. Blush creeps into your cheeks at his subtle nervousness. Well, there's no point of hiding from his dead-on gaze at your face now, is there? You hum, “So next? I just hit?”
As if remembering something, he twists his body to look across your back. “Nah, not yet. Your grip hand’s a little off.”
“Oh,” you breathe, consciously stretching your fingers that's holding the cue, already expecting him to help you, and yeah for sure, that's what he does.
“Here, scoot near the butt end.” Echo grips your cue instead to allow your hand to slide back experimentally. “Should allow a smoother motion. Feel it?”
You try to swing it back and forth, feeling it a little nicer and smoother for you to move, and careful for the tip cue not touching the cue ball ahead. “Oh yeah.”
He then gently hovers his hand above your elbow, tapping it a couple of times. “And you should move it– swing it by your elbow. Not your shoulder. You swing and you just kind of push, with an amount of force, then strike as straight as you can.”
The previous boldness dissipating not thanks to Fives for that unnecessary mature teasing, Echo can feel it returning, and boy is he grateful.
Because his damn bold curiosity is breathed back into him and it makes him intrigued to just… close the distance. Shame he's in his armor, the plastoid pieces preventing him from feeling the rush of your jacket’s fabric against his and the warmth emanating from the ridges of your body. You just look… warm to him. Your smile, your blush, and your eagerness. He would… perhaps, like to lean in to know more.
Also because he's about to lean over and put his arm around your body, his arm no longer hovering across your back but resting against, his gloved fingers wrapping around the cue, yours trapped beneath his palm. The grip wouldn't be tight and pressing at all, instead it would feel, hopefully, comforting. Safe. Because he's there ensuring you to actually pull this.
So he does just that.
With his other arm stretched out to form a flawlessly steady open bridge in your place, his position allows him to look down at you intensely, more than he expected that he almost reels back, but he stands his ground.
A smile forms in his lips. “Got it now?”
Again, he wishes he can feel the warmth of you.
Almost breathlessly, you meet Echo's gaze daringly, admiring the golden specks of his irises, glancing down to his lips but you too, stand your ground, as you utter, “Yessir.”
Having not expected that, he gulps audibly, his boldness faltering and he almost wants to smack himself for that. So much for– y'know what nevermind. “Uh. Yeah. Okay.”
“Keep it there, Echo, time's ticking!” Deven yells over, almost warningly but you don't sense harshness in their tone. Except probably teasing. You huff quietly as you shift your focus to your cue ball. “Another minute like that and they'll earn the Mon Cala shrimp pose.”
With your shoulder stretched far back… yeah, you won't lie. Deven's right. It's getting a little sore. But you never want to blame Echo for the time. This has been a very thorough teaching, thanks to him, and you're starting to get everything right away.
Fives jogs over on tippy toes lifting his knees (for what, nobody knows). Almost crashing onto Echo, he carefully observes the imaginary trajectory you'd pull. Then with a noisy rustle of armor, he appears by your other side and sticks his forefinger onto the table. “Here, try to hit here,” he suggests.
You frown. It's not even dead straight, but… well, these boys haven't done anything wrong to you yet, so you trust him.
“Ah,” Echo deadpans beside you, yet it sounds genuine, “Thanks for the help, twin.”
Twin? you wonder internally. Okay, already added to questions to be asked later.
“Ready?” Echo asks you, his tone back to being gentle and patient as you've known him. Is he different around his brothers? Around you? Added to questions to be asked later. Or probably, don't ask. Maybe you'll be on the lookout for a long while.
“Uh-huh. Yep. Ready.”
You breathe. Echo follows beside you, close, you can almost feel his exhale caressing your cheek. You follow his retracting arm, and the cue strikes with calculated speed and force that it sends your object ball hard into the pocket.
So hard, that the cue ball follows too. Not so calculated after all.
You laugh and mutter ah that's fine, but Echo burns with embarrassment. He could've been better. And he's supposed to be a pro after your roommate. Oh well. At least he gets to be near you.
“Foul.” Give it to Dogma to break the already sad celebratory mood.
“Thanks, Captain Obvious. Didn't know you're the referee,” Fives deadpans, arms folded across his chest.
“But still.” Hardcase raises from his spot at your targeted pocket (you don't even know when he got there) and wiggles his eyebrows at Echo. “Nice one, brother.”
Echo grunts, already gotten up and put some distance between you both. “Shut up, ‘Case.”
“That's fine! I got to learn,” you chirp, leaning against your cue stick smugly. Your sweet toothy grin and radiating positivity are sending Echo's heart on a series of cartwheels this time.
The bald clone snickers at you both. “6-ball middle left pocketzzz!”
“Must you do that?” complains Kix, handing him the cue ball.
“Nope. Just wanna.”
Chuckling, you drown out their shenanigans and tug at Echo to move away from the table, giving some distance to the boys who've rejoined. You wonder how much time that had taken just for your turn alone, but judging by their indifferent demeanor, your insecurities deplete. Yeah, you can handle this. With Echo, you both can handle this.
You can't help but glance at the man. He's in his own world again, golden pair of eyes focused on the table.
Then you can't help but be reminded of your closeness earlier, too. His plastoid armor pieces pressing against you, but not pinning you down. You feel your chest blossom with warmth at his care and attention. He's such a gentleman. Even when he's focused to guide you, he takes precedence of your comfort, too.
Not long after, Dogma calls out, momentarily gaining your attention, “10-ball, top right.”
You turn to Echo, noticing the pattern a little too late. “Do you have to call like that before you hit?”
He smiles at you. He doesn't think he'd get bored of your many questions – pool related or not. “That's call shot,” he explains, “Another rule we're applying in the game. It's when you have to call out your object ball and your target pocket. If you do anything other than that, it's foul.”
You backtrack to when Echo picks the target for you. “Oh you did that.”
He shrugs one one shoulder, the one blue pauldron shifting when he does. “Yeah, I did.”
Blue. A marking of his battalion? Which battalion? You don't even know the basics of their army structure and you didn't even wanna know which trooper from which battalion, but… now you wanna know, especially Echo's. You've heard it's numbers. Maybe you'd ask? Yeah, more to add to questions to be asked later.
Fine, there's a lot of questions already stored in that mental list. And now the atmosphere is relaxed, Echo is in his zone observing the others, and you can't help but feel the ghosts of his hands, his touch, on your waist earlier.
“You um,” you clear your throat. Man, here we go, the other side of you whines. “You want me to do the call shots?”
Echo glances at you, smiling. How many times he's smiled at you tonight, you don't count. You've been busy listening to his calming voice and staring at his sharp cheekbones, and mulling over his touch and his concern over your comfort. “Sure,” he says, “Just pick the easiest you think you can pocket.”
You bite your lip. “...On you?”
He double takes, brows furrowing deeper in each turn of the head. “Uh, what?”
You trudge forward fearlessly, barricading yourself from the intention of backing down as you dare, “Calling the shot on you?”
Echo's lips part in dumbfounded silence.
And you want nothing but crawl into a hole and die from embarrassment. “I– sorry I didn't mean you're easy, it's just you're… okay. You're nice and– just– kriff.” You stare at him, cheeks burning. Red, you're sure. Really red. Just… well done. You finally take the shot outright, “You wanna grab a drink?”
He hasn't said anything, but you're sure his cheeks are tinged with pink. You let out a breathy, awkward laugh because well that's not a 100% failed attempt but still.
“That was so bad I know–”
“I-I’d love to,” he interrupts you, “Grab a drink with you.”
It's your turn to be dumbfounded. “Oh,” escapes your lips, followed by another laughter that brings you back to his equally awkward smile and glimmering golden eyes. “Great! Take a break, yeah? Aren't you tired of your brothers?”
“Eh, they're alright. Got used to it. Brothers, y'know?” Echo laughs, the pleasant sound sends your stomach aflutter. He smiles sweetly at you, offering, “After this one?”
“Sure,” you grin, “After this one.”
Taglist: @yoursrosie @hellfiresky @msmeredithrose
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