Echo is terrified of doctors, nurses, and the medbay in general. He will go weeks avoiding his checkups, often choosing to deal with his medical issues on his own for as long as he can.
It all reminds him of Skako Minor, the way he was poked, prodded, torn apart, put back together, drained, and nearly died.
Sometimes you just make unwise decisions in your navigation, and tonight is one of those nights. Taking a detour on your way to meet some friends leads you into the path of someone new, and changes all your plans for the evening.
WC: 3,653 - Read on Ao3 - Read on Reddit
Content Warning: Smut. Thigh Riding, Oral (m and f recieving, over panties), unprotected PiV, cum in mouth, clothes tearing, Casual sex, Drinking, Strip Poker Sabacc...
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The sound of boots thumping against corrugated metal echoed loudly behind you as you tore through the dark dock.
Kark Kark Kark, trespassing is SO not worth it.
So much for a short cut. You were just trying to slip through the shipping cargo to get to the bar your friends were meeting at. They were trying a new spot and this seemed like a convenient straight way through. Till the guards spotted you… immediately
You had already snagged your stockings squeezing through the fence and now your coat is dirty. The tight, short pencil skirt was just riding up your thighs, not meant to be jogged in like this you felt it tug your already runny tights as it refused to stay in place. Definitely not worth the twenty minutes you saved cutting through.
You were trying to control your breathing against the fire starting in your lungs.
No good, I'm gonna have to try to hide.
You darted between the tight rows of tall crates. Lucky, the door of one was standing ajar. Diving into it you quickly pull the door closed with a sharp snap.
“Wait!”
You jump, skin going cold as a figure rushes through the dark to slam the door of the crate. There was a clicking whine coming from the lock and the shadow was cursing. The voice was masculine, and he hit the door again with an odd sounding clang.
“Kark!... Karken… Kriff me.”
You were frozen, scared stiff at the sudden aggressor so near to you and the implications of his fluster.
Did… did I just lock us in?
Speaking of us,
“Commander… I've hit a snag,”
A blue light reflected off a sleek helmet visor as the stranger spoke into their comlink.
“The timing bolts have activated. I'm disarming the explosives.”
Explosives?!
A voice crackled through the channel,
“Copy… what happened. Will you still make the rendezvous?”
The helmed figure seemed to look up at you,
“Affirmative, just a delay. The plan still holds…”
You glanced about the container in a mild panic. As your eyes adjusted to the darkness you were able to make out the faint blink of strategically placed devices around the container. The panic became something more cold and gripping. Those were explosives.
“What the Kark! Who the Kark are you?”
The man jumped as if he hadn't expected you to move, let alone shout. A glint off the helmet in the dim light as he stooped to tap at the blinking devices strapped to the walls. He didn't answer. Maybe you didn't want to know.
You fumbled for your mini pack, finding the lumenproj. You clicked the little ball and it lit up, hovering in place to cast shadows around the small container.
Your new companion froze and you heard the thump of boots approach as the guards that were pursuing you passed by. He breathed again, finally turning to consider his other problem… you. A sudden apprehension gripped you. It was obvious he wasn't supposed to be here, and no one was supposed to know about it.
You tensed, expecting an attack… but he just sighed, slumping against the wall.
“Better get comfortable,”
He reached up with his hand, you're now seeing he had just the one, to click the helmet off the fasteners on his head. Your eyes widened at the familiar face that came into view.
“You're a clone!”
“Is that a problem?”
“What is a clone doing planting explosives on a military dock?!”
You clenched your jaw suddenly. You didn't want to know. You wanted to pretend you never saw any of this. This wasn't the kind of thing that led to a long life.
Maker's mercy he didn't answer again.
“Look, these crates are fitted with timing locks. Even if someone came for us they wouldn't be able to access the door again for…”
He paced to the door, popping a small hinged panel to check a display… sighing again.
“Eight hours.”
“Eight hours!”
You had places to be, there was no way you were gonna stay stuck in a crate for eight hours,
“Hey!”
You shouted, running to the door to start hammering against it.
Before you could even make contact an arm wrapped roughly about your middle, hard plastic managing to bite into you through the thick layers. A hand clamped over your mouth, cutting off any protest.
“DON'T… do that. Calm down. I'm not gonna hurt you, but you can't do that… okay?”
You nodded and he released you.
“I just said it was useless. All you'd manage is to get us killed.”
“So what, we just sit here?”
He nodded, sliding down the wall to sit. You scrutinized the clone that had apparently given up. His skin was pale, sunken over his cheek and brow. Metal and plastic attachments adorned his skull, wrapped around his ears and of course… the arm, replaced with a droid scomp. Once you got past what made him different you could see the familiar handsome clone features that appeared around Coruscant. Broad of shoulder, slim but sturdy waistline.
At least there's scenery…
The thought made you smirk as you slid down the opposite wall, carefully between the rigged explosives. Your eyes followed the complicated web of devices attached about the container. It must have taken ages to set up the walls… All for, what? There was nothing in the crate.
Your eyes finally meandered back around to fall on the soldier again, catching him eyeing you back. Awkward.
You pulled you pack over, sighing,
“You play sabacc?”
His face brightened a little as he saw you withdraw an old, worn card deck and a flask from your belongings.
“What're we playing for?”
He was eager, but his face fell when he tapped his belt only to find a few broken data sticks and a defunct Republic credit.
You thought about missing out with your friends, all excited for a new hot spot and what you had already planned on for the evening. Lifting a brow to your captive company,
“Clothes?”
~~~
This just wasn't fair. You glowered at the man smirking down at his fan of cards. He was cool as could be, sprawled back against the wall with a knee up, staring down his extended leg at the cards on the floor.
Looking back down, you eyed your shyte hand and bit back a swear.
You hadn't won a single hand, and despite your layers you now sat topless with your mini pack worn backwards to guard your dignity.
About half the flask was gone, and your flush was hard to think through as you tried to formulate a strategy with the cards you were dealt. You played one. He set another down without hesitation… but…
Tentatively you played the card you were holding back, eyeing what was layed on the floor.
“Ha! Got you… kriffing finally…”
He smirked playfully,
“What should I give you?”
You spotted the glint in his eye, the amused tilt of his brow…
“You let me win, didn't you?”
“No! Course not,”
“Oh you did! You liar!”
You batted at his knee jokingly but winced when your knuckles struck metal. He chuckled, shifting his legs a little wider as he pulled his knee away.
“Either way, you won… what do you want?”
Was it just you or was it getting hotter in here? His eyes were following you as you moved, darting down occasionally as the curve of a breast edged around the small pack hanging over your chest.
“Do those come off?”
You defused the mounting tension, throwing him off guard by motioning at his earpiece.
“Yeah… can't hear without it though…”
He clicked it off, handing the surprisingly heavy piece to you. His ears were exposed, scarred and twisted, the damage of high heat and soft flesh. You resisted the urge to reach out and touch the ragged scarring, instead looking over the circuitry of the device in your hands.
“I change my mind, you should keep your hearing…”
He made a gesture towards his ear and shrugged, slacking his face into an exaggerated clueless expression. You snickered,
“You're kind of cute you know that?”
His eyebrows flew up and you smacked his leg again handing back the headpiece.
“You said you couldn't hear anything”
He chuckled, snapping the device back onto his ears,
“I can still read lips,”
Your fluster was mostly show, but you still felt the need to get back at him a little. You grabbed his hand.
“I'm taking this instead.”
Slowly, you tugged the fabric of his glove from his pointer finger, letting the fabric slide off on its own from the gentle coax. The article was surprisingly soft, the color that of a rich, fermented nectar that was so vivid in the dim light it made your mouth water.
His hand hung in the air where it was freed from the fabric, strong fingers, clean nails. For just a glove that felt more… intimate than you anticipated. He closed his fist drawing his arm to himself and started breathing again, reminding you to do the same.
But not for long. It might have been the drink, or the heat, or the sharp cut of his jawline but like a compulsion you crawled forward and brushed your lips against his. You drew back a breadth, biting the ghostly tickle on your lip from where they made contact; waiting for his response.
Calmly, his hand brushed up your arm to cup the bicep. He pulled you off balance from how you knelt over him so that your lips pressed more firmly together. There was a coolness to them, and his nose where it brushed your face… in comparison, you'd imagine you felt like fire.
You settled over his extended leg, leaning against his chest to squish the pack between you. He pulled back to look down at the bag with a cocked eyebrow. Flicking his gaze back to meet yours, he cautiously raised his hand to hook the strap. Scomp twirling through the opposite side, he pulled the pack from your shoulders to fall below your breasts.
“Cheater… you didn't win that one.”
His smirk was a little sloppy, not taking you too seriously with your nipples hardening under his gaze; it contrasted the polite timber in his voice,
“My apologies, Ma’am, what penalties should I pay?”
“Hmm… that's quite the debt,”
You ran your hands under the edges of the breast plate, finding the little magnetic locks. You popped them with a sharp click, claiming the armor for yourself.
“This for starters…”
You ran your hands over the looser knit the armor was hiding, feeling hard bumps down the center of his chest as you found your way to his belt buckle. Another soft click and the leather attachments about his hips fell away.
Pausing here, you leaned back onto his chest pressing your breasts against the soft sweater still separating your skin. You gave him a firm kiss, tugging where the shirt was tucked into his waistband. He mumbled against your lips, the low tone vibrating through where you were pressed to him.
“How much do I still owe?”
“Oh, a lot still… I might have to take all of it, leave you naked on the docks.”
He snorted at the image and admittedly lame drunken flirting. Your composer broke too,
“Kark it, just help me get this off you,”
He froze when he felt your tug on his clothes become insistent.
“What, what's wrong?”
“I just… didn't think it'd go this far …”
You tilted your head, sitting topless on his thigh,
“Where'd you think this was going?”
He shrugged and you shoved the flask back into his hand before reaching down to tug at the fasteners to his pants. You heard a slosh and a gulp as he took a large swig before casting it aside to help remove his pauldron and gauntlet.
Tugging the hem of the sweater up with a broad lift of his arms, you drank in more of that deep red as the undershirt came into view. He didn't have much room to maneuver between you and the wall and the sweater got caught on his chin, arms up with no leverage to get out of the sleeves. He had trapped himself and sighed deeply.
Stifling a giggle you slip your thumb into the neck hem under his chin, pulling it up over his wide nose… but not freeing him. You teased his lips with yours, brushing your nose against his. He held his breath and you kissed him, stealing it away from him as your tongue darted across his.
Your hands slid under the red tank, pulling it up to his collarbone. With his chest exposed he shrank a little, at your mercy with his arms caught… unless he made a fuss, which tellingly, he wasn't. Using your fingertips you traced back down his slim pecks, over the studs you had felt earlier and he shivered.
“Does that hurt?”
“No, just… tickles.”
“Tickle good or tickle bad?”
“Uh… b-”
You leaned down, licking the scarred skin along the side of one of the protrusions.
“Ah!.. uh… I dunno.”
“Hm,”
You shifted lower on his thigh to be more even with his chest. Carefully, you pressed your mouth over one of the bolts, warming the metal with your lips. The skin under you twitched while the man considered the sensation.
“ ...That feels nice,”
You moved to the parallel one, warming it too as you brushed your fingers down his sternum, prominent through his pale skin.
His leg under you trembled, bumping the soft mound under your panties where you straddled his thigh. You gasped softly at the contact through your thin stockings. Though the drink had you in action, you hadn't really felt how much this was turning you on. The light brush felt good.
The sound made the man under you tense, once more moving to try to free his arms.
“Help me out of this.”
You obliged moving up again, subtly pressing against his leg as you grabbed the sweater and tugged it up. You sighed together as his arms came free and he wrapped his live arm about your hips pulling you down to grind harder against his leg making you moan more honestly.
You took the invitation to move against him, whimpering at the needy pressure building between your legs as his eyes took you in. His scomp was tracing the outline of your breast, gently pressing the soft flesh to show off its cleave against your chest. He pulled you in, kissing and caressing where the skin folded, nuzzling his cold nose against the crease.
Your own thigh was rubbing against his groin as you rode his leg, you could feel him hardening under the open fly. Wanting it, you reached through the open slacks to retrieve him, making his throat catch as your warm fingers stroked against him.
“I need to get these tights off…”
Your free hand reached down, trying to get an angle on the waistband under your skirt. Instead, you were pushed up to stand while he rose to his knees, spinning your position so your back hit the wall. You were suddenly very aware of the twists of wire and blinking detonators to your sides.
“Careful, I don't fancy getting blown up…”
He shrugged,
“It's not so bad after the first time.”
You could feel your face scrunch slightly not sure whether to laugh,
“That… explains some things”
He grinned, then reached up grabbing a handful of your tights, piercing them with his scomp. Tearing through the new hole he ripped the tights up through the groin. Your thong had already been visible through the translucent fabric, but now he could see how turned on you were; the light from the lumenproj glinting off your slick thighs and damp underthings. He ran his tongue up the exposed, tender skin of your inner legs, tasting you, making you pant,
“Krriffff…”
Your leg twitched at the feeling of his tongue passing over your flesh, flicking at the sensitive skin at the joint of your hip… so very close to your panty line. Your breath stopped and you focused on him to realize he was staring back.
Sure your attention was on him, he leaned back in, nuzzling his nose against the fabric covering you to feel the shape of you underneath. A sharp whine escaped you as you felt his mouth press against your panties, tongue flashing out to massage the folds beneath. His hand drifted up to the thong’s band, twisting it to tighten the material against you; defining the shape more clearly. He continued licking, hard fast presses that dampened the fabric further, forcing sobs of need from your throat.
Needing more you bucked back, hands cautiously finding their way to his ear pieces and then, taking hold of them. He hardened his tongue against you letting you use him to rub just right…
Your knees buckled and he caught you before you slid too far down the wall. You leaned against the cool metal gasping.
“You okay?”
False concern, he wasn't able to mask the pride tinging the baritone whispered into your thigh.
“I'm fine… good, even…”
He chuckled,
“Good.”
He moved to stand, pushing you more upright. His scomp was guiding your leg up, slinging your knee over the attachment as he jabbed the point through the thin plate of the wall into the insulation. You balanced on your other foot, slightly on tiptoe with how high he pinned your calf.
You noticed him tugging the undershirt back down and made a small noise of protest.
“Shh, sorry, I don't want to catch your skin,”
He pressed against you claiming your mouth and you dropped the complaint, wrapping your arms about his shoulders. The soft fabric felt nice against your chest, cushioning the bolts punctuating his ribs. His lips distracted you further but it wasn't long before your attention was drawn to the hard cock pressing against your covered quim. He pulled back to look at you, fingers slowly trailing up your thigh, waiting for a protest that didn't come. He slid his thumb under the hem of the thong and slipped it to the side.
No hesitation, he guided himself to your entrance, penetrating slowly and making you squirm. Once he was in enough to not slip his hand found new purchase under your ass, lifting your other leg and straightening your hips. He sank further, finally hitting his pelvis against yours with a satisfying thump and a sigh of relief.
You pulled him to you, kissing him fervently to spurn his hips into action. He groaned into your mouth as his muscles flexed under your fingers and he moved. His slight form scooped against you, a long passionate stroke as he slowly withdrew from your body just to slam home again.
You cried out, head falling back with the jolt of pleasure. His lips found his way to your neck so conveniently thrust towards him and you leaned your cheek against his sharp brow. Your body shook with his rutting, hips hitting the wall you were suspended against. Hot breath was panted into your neck, the drink and teasing having him already skirting the edge of pleasure.
Using what leverage you had, you pushed on his shoulders, lifting your hips to meet his, helping him get you there too. You bit into him, muffling a cry as you went over, coming against him.
“I'm close too,”
He was breathy, lost in the feel of you.
“Should I…?”
You considered through your haze a moment,
“You should… in my mouth,”
His breath hitched and he released you, pulling his scomp from the wall and catching your arm to guide you to your knees.
You quickly took him in your mouth, tasting yourself on his shaft and he groaned, grinding against your tongue. He was stroking his length, so you reached up to cup his balls feeling them twitch and tighten as he finally came. The hot, bitter tang filled your mouth and you struggled to swallow it down around his cock still twitching and bucking between your lips.
He sank into the wall, resting his forehead on his arm while his scomp hung limply. His eyes, half lidded, stayed on you underneath him as you found the discarded flask and took a swig, swishing it around before swallowing,
“How much time left?”
“Hmm?”
“Till we can unlock the door?”
He blinked, tapping something on his wrist,
“Six and a half hours…”
“Kriff me.”
“Again?”
~~~
The fresh air tasted sweet, but his saliva was on your lips all the sweeter and it was all you could think about as you walked out into the corridor of tall, stacked metal. You turned to him before you could part ways,
“Do you have a personal com?”
“No.”
Answered flat, but then he met your gaze and corrected,
“Not yet.”
You searched your pack, pulling out a tube of lipstick. Rolling the hem over where his scomp connected to skin, you wrote your name and channel right above the scarring. Flicking your eyes back to his golden ones,
“Don't smudge it.”
“Yes ma’am.”
He paused, staring at you a moment more before slipping his helmet back on and starting off in the other direction.
“Wait!”
You recoiled at the way your voice reverberated off the metal crates and instead jogged towards him a little.
“Wait… what's your name?”
He turned back, giving a small salute,
“I'm Echo,”
~~~
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Terrorist attack on Coruscant!
Strategic storage facilities of the Imperial army have been targeted by violent insurgents, his excellen-
—-----------------------------------
“Hey… hey, hey you okay?”
You blinked at the hand your friend was waving in front of your face.
“Huh, what?”
“You good? You were just staring at the news smiling like a maniac,”
“Oh! Uh… my mind was somewhere else…”
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Author's Note: Oh how I want to write more for Echo.
The most tragic thing about TBB is that Echo joined them so he could feel like he belonged, and he ended up hating being with them.
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ANYway-- i’ve noticed some of my Echo art circulating again! dont know how i feel about it but heres a recovered! Echo at his wits end with TBB doodle.
Echo: “Meg, if you learn anything from me, let it be how to pick out bullshit from what people say”
Omega: “What did they say this time?”
an echo that took me all afternoon (to the point that the watercolor wouldn't get darker bc the paper was soaked) that i can't get the photo color right vs a minute? echo that i did while waiting for my dd order
