So funny request, feel free to ignore it if your busy. But I just can help but think about how the clones have no sense of misogyny due to how they were raised. There were so many female Jedi and many of the kaminoans that created and raised them were women. I was wondering how a platonic bad batch would react to casual misogyny towards a female reader maybe? Nothing too bad, just them being absolutely bewildered that someone would think something like that and then low-key upset when she's like "it is what it is🤷♀️".
If this request makes you uncomfortable no pressure to do it, I just thought it was an interesting idea. And I love your writing so...🤭
“It Is What It Is”
Bad batch x Reader
The market square on Raxus was buzzing with noise, chatter, and the metallic clank of droids carrying cargo. Clone Force 99 didn’t exactly blend in—broad-shouldered armored soldiers tended to stand out among merchants and civilians—but for once, no one was actively shooting at them.
You were walking a few paces ahead with Tech, trying to follow the datapad’s map to a contact’s stall. Hunter and Echo trailed behind, eyes scanning the crowd. Wrecker wandered with a bag of candied nuts, happily munching. Crosshair was…well, Crosshair, which meant scowling and looking like he wanted to shoot someone at random.
Everything was fine—until it wasn’t.
A vendor selling blaster parts leaned on his counter as you stopped to check the stock. You’d been trained enough to know what you were looking for, so you asked a perfectly reasonable question about the power capacity of one of his rifle scopes.
The man gave you a once-over, slow and dismissive. His smirk was greasy. “Sweetheart, this isn’t a fashion booth. Leave the tech talk to your boys over there, yeah?”
Your stomach sank. You’d heard it before—on Raxus, Coruscant, practically everywhere outside Kaminoan military channels. You blinked, pasted on a polite smile, and shrugged. “It is what it is,” you muttered under your breath, already turning away.
But Tech froze.
His brows knitted in confusion as though the vendor had just spoken an alien dialect. “I beg your pardon?” he asked sharply, adjusting his goggles. “Are you implying that her gender renders her incapable of discussing weapon components?”
The vendor blinked at him, startled. “I’m just saying she might not understand the specs—”
“Incorrect,” Tech interrupted, voice like a vibroblade. “She has demonstrated clear comprehension of the question she posed, which you have thus far failed to answer. Statistically, the biological sex of an individual has no correlation with their capacity for mechanical or tactical knowledge.”
Hunter’s voice cut low and warning. “Tech.” But his tone wasn’t meant for Tech—it was for the vendor.
Crosshair had stopped pretending to be bored. He leaned lazily against a crate, toothpick between his teeth, but his golden eyes gleamed sharp. “Go on. Say something else stupid.”
Echo stepped forward, expression tight. “She asked you about the power capacity. Answer it. Or we’ll take our business elsewhere.”
The vendor sputtered, suddenly sweating under the combined scrutiny of four armored soldiers and one visibly furious man in a bandana. He fumbled for the datapad to pull up the specs.
Wrecker lumbered closer, looming over the counter like a mountain. “You were real quick to run your mouth,” he said, voice deceptively cheerful. “Funny how you don’t sound so smart now.”
The poor man stammered out the details, stumbling over numbers until Tech snatched the datapad from his hands and checked the information himself.
Satisfied, Tech handed it to you instead of back to the vendor. “As I was saying, this model will serve your intended purpose. Though, if I may recommend, the alternate design from Kuat Systems is superior in stability.”
You nodded, grateful, and tucked it away. “Thanks, Tech.”
The Batch didn’t move until you’d stepped away from the booth, and even then, you could feel their agitation vibrating through the air like static.
⸻
Later, when you regrouped at the ship, it was impossible to ignore the stormy mood.
Hunter leaned against the ramp with arms crossed. “Does that kind of thing happen a lot?”
You shrugged, sitting on a crate. “Depends what you call ‘a lot.’ It’s not a big deal.”
All five sets of eyes landed on you at once, incredulous.
“Not a—” Echo cut himself off, staring at you like you’d grown another head. “He dismissed you for being a woman. That’s not nothing.”
Crosshair scoffed, pushing off the wall. “He’s lucky Tech spoke first. I’d have put a bolt through his datapad.”
Wrecker frowned, scratching his head. “I don’t get it. Why would anyone think you can’t know about gear just ’cause you’re not a man? That doesn’t make sense.”
“It doesn’t,” Tech agreed firmly. “On Kamino, many of the Kaminoans responsible for our education and maintenance were female. Numerous Jedi Generals are female. Statistically, gender distribution among the skilled and the incompetent is equal.”
Hunter tilted his head, studying you. His voice was gentler now. “And you just…accept it? ‘It is what it is?’”
You sighed. “What do you want me to say? It happens everywhere. People think like that, they say dumb things, and I move on. If I let it bother me every time, I’d never get anything done.”
That didn’t make them feel better. If anything, it made it worse.
Echo’s jaw tightened. “So you’ve dealt with this your whole life.”
“Pretty much.”
Crosshair muttered a curse under his breath, pacing away. Wrecker still looked baffled, like he was trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces. Tech was visibly unsettled, recalibrating his entire worldview around a variable he’d never considered. And Hunter…Hunter looked downright pained.
“You shouldn’t have to just ‘deal with it,’” he said quietly.
You smiled faintly, trying to lighten the mood. “Yeah, well. Galaxy’s full of idiots. Can’t shoot them all.”
Crosshair smirked darkly. “Try me.”
That actually earned a laugh from Wrecker, but it was short-lived.
Tech crouched in front of you, serious. “Please understand, your dismissal of this treatment does not reduce its illogical and offensive nature. If you encounter it again, we will intervene.”
“Tech—”
“No,” Echo cut in. “He’s right. You don’t have to just brush it off, not when we’re around.”
Hunter nodded firmly. “We look out for each other. Always.”
For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. You’d long since accepted casual misogyny as background noise, but looking at them—all five soldiers utterly baffled and quietly furious on your behalf—you felt something twist in your chest.
Wrecker gently nudged your shoulder, voice soft for once. “You’re part of our squad, ya know. Anyone messes with you, they mess with us.”
Crosshair flicked his toothpick aside and smirked again, but his eyes were serious. “And trust me. They don’t want that.”
You laughed, but this time it wasn’t hollow. It was warm, real. “Thanks, boys. I’ll try to remember that.”
Hunter offered a small smile in return, the tension easing slightly. “Good. Because ‘it is what it is’ doesn’t fly with us.”
And just like that, you realized—maybe it didn’t have to fly with you, either.
Word Count: 6.3k
Pairing: A section for each of our boys
Warnings: fluff and god I did our boys well
Summary: As always happens before the Batch left after a visit, you find yourself wishing they didn't have to go. You've grown too attached to them, one in particular. You just didn't realize he'd grown just as attached. He should really say something.
The night was over. Hunter, Wrecker, Crosshair, Tech, and Echo were scattered throughout your apartment resting. It felt good to see them all relaxed enough to sleep somewhere other than the Marauder or their barracks. It felt even better knowing you were a safe space for them.
You’d avoided the question of how long they’d be around this time - as if not asking would extend their answer. Missing them and wishing they wouldn’t leave weighed on you. You knew it was selfish.
They were doing something so important for the Galaxy. The Republic depended on them. Other people’s lives depended on them.
But you wanted them too and some fragment of you needed them too. How could anyone meet them and not become addicted to their presence?
Every time they came back to you, you inevitably indulged yourself in a dream of them tossing aside their duties for a civilian life. Even if it wasn’t for you, you’d still occupy a slice of their time. Wouldn’t you?
One of the clones in particular stood out to you. You vied for extra time alone with him amongst the already limited timeframes you were granted.
Stuck in a daydream of anxiety you stood on your balcony, arms crossed and lost in the lights of the city beyond.
Little did you know you weren’t the only one with a fantasy of a different life - one with you in it.
The Kaminoans drilled discipline into the clones. Not much of anything served as a temptation for them. Men like Cut were aberrations of their nature, but so were all of the men of Clone Force 99.
The same man you dreamt of even tasted Cut’s temptation. Seeing you with someone else, seeing someone else by your side, made him realize that he’d like to be the one to stand by your side. And if he couldn’t do that he at least wanted you to know he wished he could be.
WRECKER
When you offered your bed to Wrecker, having Crosshair smashed up against him wasn’t exactly what he had in mind. It wasn’t that he and his brothers hadn’t slept dog-piled together plenty of times, it just seemed natural that sleeping in your bed might come with sleeping with you.
Something he hadn’t realized he wanted until the idea was presented to him.
Just like the idea of sleeping beside you, he’d never had much reason to think about your romantic life. Finding out you’d been seeing someone, seeing another man holding you, catapulted the concept into fruition.
The said man quickly became an ex that night, but it made Wrecker wonder what it’d be like to be the one by your side. To be the one making you smile every day and keeping you warm at night.
Where Crosshair fell asleep almost instantly, Wrecker lay awake wondering where you were going to sleep and what you were going to do when they weren't with you. When he wasn’t with you.
Taking Crosshair’s elbow to the ribs was the last push Wrecker needed to roll out of your bed. Wrecker tiptoed around the rest of his squad scattered about your apartment in search of you.
A cool breeze chilled the skin of his exposed chest and led him to your balcony where you stood facing the city. You were lost in thought and unaware of his presence. Seizing the opportunity, Wrecker slowly padded over to you.
He got within a step of you and slowly extended his arms out around you. Just for a moment, though, he appreciated how lucky he was to be this close with you. To be able to even think of touching you with no recourse. Then that moment was over and he snatched you up in his arms.
You barely suppressed a yelp as he hauled your feet into the air. Your giggling echoed through his chest. You didn’t realize he was shirtless until he put you back on solid ground and you twisted around in his arms.
The two of you stood like that, loosely in each other's arms, until your giggles quieted and only the city sounds filtered between you.
Despite your best effort at modesty, your eyes fell to the eye level pec muscles. You’d rarely seen Wrecker out of uniform, let alone half naked. A sight that made you suddenly very thirsty. His muscles flexed, breaking your focus and earning a laugh from Wrecker.
“Like what you see?” He chuckled as quietly as he could, barely mindful of his brothers inside.
Trying to look as uninterested as possible, you rolled your eyes and stepped back enough for his hands to slip off of your waist. “Show-off,” you mumbled playfully.
You peaked around him, looking for who else was up. “They’re all asleep.” Wrecker answered the obvious question. “I-I…” He fumbled around the reason he was the only one there, “I couldn’t sleep.”
Your face heated as you realized it would just be the two of you. Getting any of Batchers alone was rare given their circumstances. While you’d attempted to before, you’d never managed to get Wrecker to yourself.
Ignoring how giddy the idea made you, you were quick to worry after why he couldn’t sleep. “Is it the bed?” You nervously asked.
Wrecker blew a raspberry and waved you off, “Your bed is fine.” When you kept staring up at him, silently waiting for further explanation, he tried to casually add, “Just couldn’t stop thinking is all.”
Relieved, you smiled and half-heartedly said, “Oh yeah? A credit for your thoughts.”
His mouth opened, but no words came out. The two of you blinked at one another, both a little caught off by the failed attempt. Wrecker tried again, yet still he came up with nothing.
Wrecker had never been a good liar to begin with and each lie he conjured sounded obvious. So he braced himself for the truth.
“I was thinking about you.”
“Me?” Your voice cracked with surprise.
Instantly regretting his decision, Wrecker stepped back, waving his hands anxiously. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”
You grabbed his wands, stilling him and shutting him up. “You were thinking about me?” You asked, quieter this time.
Wrecker caved at your touch. Weakly smiling, he sighed and admitted, “Yeah, I think about you a lot.”
Surprise overtook you, but that didn’t stop a little smile from bubbling up. Every negative, anxious thought of tomorrow keeping you awake disappeared leaving only a stutter of half words to slip from you.
Unable to compose your satisfaction with the news, you cleared your throat and replied simply, “Is that so?”
Your reaction widened his smile. Wrecker wasn’t sure what he expected, other than rejection, but it wasn’t bashfulness. Spurred on by the flush coming to your face, he took a step and a chance.
He let out a soft laugh,“And I think I like you.” Lacing your fingers through his, he lifted one of your hands to his mouth. “That okay with you?”
His lips were hot on the back of your hand. Breathlessly you reassured him, “Of course,” With your free hand you palmed his cheek. Your earlier worry did begin to resurface. “I wish you didn’t have to leave.”
Wrecker’s chest squeezed. He didn’t want to either. He’d rather stay by your side and spend every night with you like this. It wasn’t possible yet, but at least for a night he could.
With hope in his voice, Wrecker asked, “Would you consider coming back to bed with me?”
If it had been anyone else, you might think they were making a pass at you. Between the light pull of Wrecker’s brows and him being, well, Wrecker, the thought barely occurred to you. Not to mention, it did sound much nicer than worrying yourself to exhaustion on the balcony.
So you followed Wrecker back and he slid into your bed, pushing Crosshair back with his hip. Flat on his back, Wrecker extended his arm out to invite you in next to him. Your eyes flit between Wrecker and Crosshair who was now adjusting himself around his brother.
Careful not to disturb the sniper, you gently tucked in next to Wrecker only for him to pull you in tight. He wiggled in place, nestling into an optimally cozy position, before sleepily mumbling to you, “You owe me a credit.”
You didn’t dare speak for fear of waking Crosshair, but you didn’t have to worry long. Crosshair was the one to respond from his side of Wrecker. “Shut it, Wrecker.” He cracked an eye open to lock onto you, “And not a word of this to anyone.”
CROSSHAIR
Crosshair opened his eyes, blinking back into reality tucked in your bed next to Wrecker. He sat up on his elbow, taking a few moments to remember where he was.
He’d fallen asleep so quickly, Crosshair barely remembered lying down. Not that he was surprised. He was at ease in your home, it was one of your effects on him. The other being irrationality. You made him irrational and, at times, distracted. It was the only way he could describe it.
He cared for little beyond his squad and his missions, but an irrational side of him did wander into thoughts of you between missions. Visiting you settled Crosshair into just another routine - another fact of his life in the GAR. He didn’t care for post mission accolades, but seeing you was an indulgence he never fussed about.
Crosshair had been content to spend the rest of his career oscillating between crushing clankers and spending downtime with you and his brothers. That complacency was shot to shit when the Batch surprised you with a visit and you surprised them with a newly acquired boyfriend.
The memory of seeing that slimebucket with his hands around you heated Crosshair as fast as when he first laid eyes on him.
Fully aware he needed to cool off before he could even think of falling back asleep, Crosshair left bed to step outside. He’d passed the rest of his squad in a beeline for the still open balcony door. Something he was noting to nag you about when you came into his sights, leaning your forearms against the balcony railing and watching the city lights.
Crosshair froze for a moment, wondering how he missed the fact that you weren’t inside. Irrational and distracted, he thought to himself.
“It’s funny.” You said, seemingly out of nowhere. Crosshair half expected you to be mid conversation on a comm until you peaked back over your shoulder at him.
He walked over to you, pulling up beside you to mirror your position against the balcony. “What’s that?” Crosshair drawled.
Hiding your smile in your shoulder you shook your head and looked back out over the city. “I can always feel when you’re looking at me.”
Pushing himself to full height with a scoff, Crosshair crossed his arms and leaned back against the railing. “Is that an enhanced trait?”
You kept your eyes forward as you smiled and shook your head, as if surprising even yourself. “No enhancements.” You paused, a half thought crossing your mind before you winking in his direction. “Just your effect on me.”
The wink he expected, you were always playful and light. Your words though, short and haphazardly spoken, took Crosshair off guard. They sounded too familiar. He couldn’t tell if you were being serious.
Pinning you with a seriousness that dampened your smile, Crosshair said in a low voice, “Was that his effect?”
The mention of your ex instantly drained you. Rocking back on your feet, you dropped your gaze to the ground for a few beats, really considering how you wanted to play this out. You didn’t want to waste your energy or your time with Crosshair on that prod.
On a deep breath you stood to your full height and faced him with a tired smile. “I don’t wanna talk about him, Cross.”
His nickname on your tongue almost softened him enough to avoid the subject, but he still pressed you. Using the weight of his hip, Crosshair moved away from the railing in defiance.
“Why don’t you?” There was a challenge in his voice he rarely aimed your way. A shred of cruel teasing bit through his words, “Embarrassed?”
“No.” The word left no room for discussion. You met his challenge with your own, countering, “Why do you want to talk about him?”
Crosshair didn’t answer immediately. That venom of his gone all at once. He held your gaze, suddenly unsure ‘why’ himself. The thought of your ex wasn’t a pleasant one, but a persistent one nonetheless.
When more than a few seconds passed and only silence and staring remained, you squinted briefly before an idea struck you.
A tight lipped grin sprouted over you. Crosshair’s eyes fell to your lips, finding nothing but suspicion in your new look. Meeting your eyes once more he dreaded to ask, “What?”
Your mouth squirmed in a desperate attempt to suppress your growing amusement. You gave him an amused once-over, your gaze trailing from his feet to his head as you stepped in on him. You were close enough now that one wrong sway would put your chest against him.
Crosshair didn’t back down. He was on edge, unsure of what suddenly changed, but he didn’t back off. “What?” He asked, insisting with more annoyance.
“Are you jealous?”
Jealousy was not in his vernacular let alone his nature. Snorting at the very notion, Crosshair opened his mouth to object. Nothing came out.
Because maybe he wasn’t jealous, but he certainly was possessive. Combined with the irrational streak you gave him, it certainly did look like jealousy.
Having let you cherish the moment for far too long, Crosshair tilted his head sideways to return your once-over before leaning in on you. Clearly entertained, he drawled, “And what if I am?”
You were in each other’s breathing space. One tempting sway and you could taste him. Even after a shower he still smelled like mint and gun oil. Holding your resolve together with nothing but string, you asked in a less than steady voice, “Are you?”
The two of you locked into another silent showdown. On a whim of concession, Crosshair eased off of you. You thought he was going to redirect or bite back but instead he muttered, “Get over it already.”
You stifled a gasp, caught somewhere between laughter and shock. “You’re actually-”
He very nearly regretted his version of admitting his feelings. Rolling his eyes, Crosshair moved around you with your delighted look trailing him. He came to your back and guided you forward with his hands at your elbows.
You gently resisted, craning your neck back to beam up at him, “Where are we going?”
Crosshair couldn’t decide if this was quickly becoming annoying or you were looking more cute with every second your smile grew.
“Bed,” He casually said as he prompted you forward again.
Your head snapped forward and you quiet until you got to your bed. The one Crosshair was also sharing with Wrecker.
Crosshair said nothing as he got in under the duvet, scooted back into his brother and pulled the covers back when there was enough room for you. You tried not to think about it too much as you crawled in next to Crosshair.
He pulled the covers back up over as he settled in behind you. You both fell silent, allowing the warmth of the moment to sink in.
A low, sleepy groan emanated from behind Crosshair that was followed by Wrecker’s thick arm slinging over the two of you. You went stock still, not sure what to make of the situation.
You opened your mouth to comment but Crosshair cut you short by pulling you in and mumbling, “Think carefully about what you’re going to say.”
You decided to leave it be.
ECHO
Laid back comfortably, eyes shut and good arm resting on his stomach, Echo dozed off while listening to Hunter and Tech chatter. He hadn't even realized he'd fallen asleep until he was rolling onto his side and his chair tilted farther back. The shift in balance jolted him straight into a state of alarm and confusion.
After a few slow breaths, Echo looked around and his brothers were now fast asleep with Hunter taking the couch and Tech on the floor. He leaned over the arm of the chair to see down the hallway. It seemed Wrecker and Crosshair were out too.
He was halfway to assuming you’d slept somewhere in your room when he heard the muffled sounds of the city. Figuring you’d left a window open, Echo got up to investigate. You’d gone through the trouble of putting him and his squad up for the night, the least he could do was shut a window for you.
Echo only hoped you felt as cared for as he did. So it was frustrating, to say the least, for Echo to meet the ungrateful scumslug who called himself your boyfriend. He didn’t come across as the brightest man in the Galaxy and insulting you in front of five trained troopers proved that. His squadmates didn’t pick up on him calling you a ‘barracks bunny,’ but the slight wasn’t lost on Echo. All of his training to remain logical under pressure vanished when he laid your ex flat.
For the rest of the night, Echo circled back to the thought of what happened to you when they left. You weren’t defenseless, but you were alone. That bothered him more than anything.
Instead of an open window, Echo found you alone on the balcony and could only guess how long you’d been out there. Hoping to side step spooking you, Echo softly called out to you from the doorway.
He didn’t entirely succeed in not startling you. It hardly seemed to matter by the smile you turned on him. You put your back to the city and playfully gestured at him, “And why aren’t you asleep?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” Echo chuckled. He enjoyed laughing so easily with you. “What are you doing awake?” He asked as he approached.
You debated being honest about the selfish thoughts keeping you up, instead choosing to shrug it off with a half truth, “Couldn’t get settled is all. You?”
Glancing back inside the house, Echo rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “I think that chair of yours might have it out for me.”
Instantly, you could see him falling back. “Oh no!” Resting a hand apologetically on your chest, you couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t warn you.”
Echo scoffed playfully, dismissively gesturing his scomp arm, “Takes more than a chair to take down this trooper.” His features softened the longer he looked at you. The city lights brightened you beyond just your smile. Seeing you safe and smiling satisfied a male side of him.
A chill ran through you and, without thought, Echo came to your side to put his arm around you. Rubbing some warmth into your arm, he suggested, “Why don’t we get you inside?”
You didn’t budge. Looking up at Echo, your smile dimmed as you considered him. He saw a sort of skepticism flicker through you. Unbeknownst to him, you were searching those hazel eyes for an ounce of deceit, or even pity, and only tender honesty stared back at you.
Echo saw your typical confidence wane when your gaze dropped. You looked guilty, but of what was lost on him. His brows pulled together in question. Clones were trained from creation to withstand and divvy interrogations. Gently extracting information not so much.
Treading carefully, Echo gently probed, “What is it?”
Shaking your head, your features pinched and you asked, "Why did you go so far for me?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Echo countered instantly, not needing a single second to answer. He adjusted his position slightly, reeling back for a better view of your face. “I won’t let someone talk like that to you.”
The answer didn’t satisfy you. As nice as the sentiment was, its inevitably fleeting nature tarnished the moment. Your lips tightened to a thin line. Still not meeting his eyes, you sounded bitter saying, “You can’t always be here, Echo.”
The truth hurt and it fed the unease eating away at him. He knew what it was like to be alone and he did everything he could to never be that way.
Steadying you by your shoulders, Echo bent down into your line of sight. Exhaling, he admitted, “You’re right and I wish I could be.” Your eyes shot up as he continued, “Just let me do what I can for now.”
He stood to full height, your eyes rising with him. You blinked up at him, repeating back to yourself what he’d said. There was a chance you were reading too much into it, but his words were enough to give you the courage to say, “I don’t want you to leave.”
Echo’s eyes widened, before warming again. “Hopefully a day will come when I won’t have to.”
There was nothing to hide your blatant hope in asking, “Do you mean that?”
Pivoting to your side, Echo slid his arm back around you. Echo cocked his head back, brandishing a roguish grin as he said, “I’ve never meant anything more. Now let’s get inside already.” On the way in, his hand slipped to your waist and he muttered under his breath, “Let’s just hope that chair can handle two.”
Tech and Hunter were still fast asleep when you made it inside. You followed him to the recliner, watching him carefully position himself. Barely keeping the furniture balanced, Echo twisted around and made enough room for you to fit in. It took you squirming over his legs and nestling into the crook between him and the chair to get situated.
The two of you had never been this close for this long and the only thing you could think about was the fact that he wore aftershave. He tucked you under his chin, unintentionally giving you the perfect view of his neck.
You turned your face into him, pressing a kiss into the crook of his neck and mumbling a thank you to him. One he answered by pulling you closer and returning the gesture.
HUNTER
From your couch, Hunter listened to you move around your apartment. He was intent on seeing you turn in for the night, but that moment never came. At some point between resting and tracing your movements, Hunter dozed enough for you to slip by him. The sound of your balcony door opening snapped him back to reality.
Hunter sat up, thumbing his bandana out of his eye and keenly extending his senses. You definitely weren’t inside. Knowing he wouldn’t get any rest until he knew you were safe and asleep, Hunter rose to find you. Even then, sleep might evade him.
He had a feeling he’d be losing a little more sleep after this evening with you.
When they left for another mission, Hunter focused on the objective. Seeing you was always something he looked forward to, but he couldn’t dwell on what was behind him. Anything other than setting his sights ahead put his squad in danger. Besides, Hunter knew he was going to keep the Galaxy safe and by extension that meant you too.
This time around challenged that perspective. Your jackass of an ex had been easy to chase off, but what about when they left? Prior to seeing a man mistreat you, Hunter never doubted your ability to survive on your own. By your own admission you’d done so most of your life.
Even after the encounter with your ex Hunter didn’t doubt you.
He doubted the people around you. People who saw all you had to offer and wanted to use that to their advantage. In the end, Hunter wasn’t sure what he hated more: the thought of you getting close to ill-intentioned people or realizing it couldn’t be him.
Finding you alone on your balcony only compounded his worries. You were alone in the cold, and it finally occurred to him that his squad took up every viable place to sleep. How was he any different from others taking advantage of you?
That resentful part of him took in the view of you against the city and wished it was a sight exclusively for him. For a moment he let himself believe it was. If only for the night.
Hunter slowly approached you and quickly realized you were mumbling to yourself. Hoping to afford you the privacy of your thoughts, Hunter cut you off by whispering, “I know you don’t think I’ll let you stay out here all night.”
You jumped at his voice, nearly colliding into him as you spun around. He was only a foot or two away, angling a smile down at you. Breathing into calm, you gave him a light shove as you glanced around for anyone else.
“Don’t sneak up on me like that,” you protested, the beginnings of a grin betraying your feigned annoyance.
“Then don’t sneak out like that.” He retorted lightly, nodding towards the open door behind him. Hunter looked at the city beyond you, wondering if he could spot where you’d been fixated. Drifting back to you, Hunter asked, “What are you doing out here?”
Your smile flinched, but you shrugged with a casual shake of your head. “Just needed some air.”
Hunter nodded, clearly only halfway believing you. While convincing you to go back inside crossed his mind as the right thing to do, he opted for spending more time with you. “Care for some company?”
Your eyes flitted between his, ultimately shaking your head. “Oh, I don’t think so.” You said, your tone scolding. Stepping into him, you pressed your hands to his stomach in attempts to redirect him inside. “You need sleep.”
He relished the feeling of your touch before tenderly gripping your wrists. You stopped pushing, but passed him a confused look. Hunter swept his thumbs over the soft skin of your wrist, acutely aware of your quickened pulse beneath his fingers.. “You don’t need to worry about me.”
You tugged your hands down, putting his hands in yours. On a tight grip you pulled him in, the force of it bringing his face an inch from yours. “Someone has to,” you insisted softly.
For all the fun they brought you it was so easy to forget that to most, Hunter and his squad were military assets. Outside of their worth in battle, little else about them mattered to the Galaxy. There was little you could offer them outside of occasional respite and hopeful thoughts and hope it meant something.
In his eyes, you saw the same thing that grew in you. Hesitancy - he was holding back, you both were. Neither of you spoke as you stood there, breathing in each other's presence. Slowly, Hunter raised your clasped hands to his lips, maintaining eye contact until his lips gently touched your skin.
“And who worries about you?” Hunter’s lips brushed your skin as he whispered.
“Isn’t that what you’re doing now?” you countered.
The question halted the sergeant momentarily. It wasn’t that you were wrong, but that wasn’t his primary concern. Lowering your hands, Hunter sighed. "Worrying is nothing if I can't protect you."
The weight of his admission, hidden behind the hesitancy you glimpsed before, warmed you but looked heavy on his mind. You couldn’t fight. You were no trooper and absolutely no Jedi. But you could do one thing..
His hand was still holding yours when you reached out to touch his face, your fingers tracing the outline of the tattoo on his cheek. You offered him a broad, reassuring smile, taking a moment to admire the moment.
“Hunter,” his name was a hum in your voice. “I can protect myself.” He immediately opened his mouth, surely an objection not far behind, but you outspoke him. “Protect those who can’t protect themselves and when this war is over…” You paused, taking a deep breath as you searched for the right words. “Well, I'll still be here when it is.”
It may not have been poetry, but the lightness in his smile, meager and fleeting though it was, told you that burden was a little lighter.
“Come with me.” He whispered between you.
You instinctively pulled back. Leaving Coruscant, joining him in the stars - it was absurd. “Hunter, I can’t-”
“To the couch,” he clarified with a soft chuckle..
Heat rushed your cheeks at the misunderstanding. Clearing your throat you nodded, “Okay.”
He gave your hands a squeeze, held onto one, and guided you back inside. The apartment was silent, the living room dark and you were thankful for Hunter’s senses. He led you to the couch, motioning for you to go first.
You slid into place, pressing your back into the couch as Hunter joined you, caging you between his body and the couch. A vague attempt at watching over you for the night.
Hunter pulled his bandana down over his eyes as he settled in around you. Speaking in a tone low enough for only you to hear, he said, “I can’t promise the next one will get off so easily.”
The words were both a joke and a threat, wrapped in his unique brand of dry humor. You lightly scoffed, wrapping an arm over his chest and drawing him closer. “There won’t be a next one. Not until the war is over,” you mumbled into his chest.
TECH
Lying in a nest of blankets on your floor, Tech replayed the evening while your apartment settled into silence. Despite having found you and spent the evening in your company, a persistent restlessness gnawed at him, preventing any sense of ease.
So, he scoured the night’s happenings for the piece that kept his peace at bay.
The search for you had been brief and relatively straightforward—a minor challenge that excited Tech. Discovering you in a lounge, especially clad in an open-backed dress, had been a surprise that quickened his pulse. However, it wasn’t nearly as unsettling as the sight of a morally dubious man claiming to be your partner.
While he found no logic in your accepting amity, let alone intimacy, from a man who either lacked the capability, knowledge, or desire to measure up to you, the man was easily dissuaded and you were safe. Logically, there was no reason for lingering concern.
Spending the evening in your quarters should’ve dispelled any remaining apprehension. Your life was not at risk. In fact, there had been no mortal danger at all. Everything worked out. His search had been successful. You were safe.
And yet, he was left with an unfamiliar sense of uncertainty - a feeling he was less than comfortable with.
After returning to your apartment, Tech busied himself by installing several security enhancements and scrutinizing local crime statistics. Beyond that, there was little else he could do for you. You were adaptable and resourceful, he would not insult you by thinking you could not take care of yourself.
He also wouldn’t insult you by rejecting the makeshift bed you offered him. Though, by Tech’s surmising, that left nowhere for you to sleep. A theory proved right by you leaving Wrecker and Crosshair in your room, sneaking past the room where he lay and back out of sight.
Something wound tight in Tech’s chest. In a move of innate curiosity, he swept his blankets aside and followed in your footsteps. He was keen to see where you had gone or to just have eyes on you again.
You were a few silent steps ahead, leaving a cracked balcony door as the only indication of your path. Finding you lingering at the edge of your balcony stopped him at the door. It was the tension leaving his chest that struck him.
The physical relief was recognizable - the very same he felt each time they found you and the direct opposite of the pressure he felt meeting your former partner. The pressure was identical in the moments you were out of view.
Tech adjusted his goggles as the pattern became clear. At the core of it all, you were the variable between the fleeting sensations. Identifying the truth of his unease came with the inevitable frustration of being unable to alter the circumstances. In the end, there was only one path forward.
He made no attempt to hide his presence, watching you stiffen as he drew near. Anchoring yourself to the railing, you leaned forward on an inhale and rocked back on the exhale.
Unsure how to interpret your going taut, he asked outright, “Do you… wish to be alone?” Eyes fixed on the city you shook your head only once in response. Following your line of sight, Tech looked over the city and saw nothing of note.
A distant shout had him reaching for his datapad, something he left beside his nest of blankets. In lieu of reading through statistics Tech tuned his goggles to survey the street below. “The locality of your home is not what I’d deem a secure district.”
“It was probably just some drunk idiot,” you mumbled, not dissuading Tech from continuing to look around. Glancing sideways at him you had to smile at the seasoned soldier gripping the balcony and seemingly so intrigued by city life. Softly scoffing, you said, “There’s nothing to worry about, Tech.”
“On the contrary,” Tech replied simply. Pulling his attention back to you, he kept one hand on the railing and said in a serious tone, “Your balcony makes you susceptible to intrusion and you’ve already fallen in with unsavory company.”
The last bit stung, but he wasn’t wrong. The concern, blunt as it may be, did feel nice.
Placing your hand over his, you tried to reassure him, “I’m fine, aren’t I?” His pursed into a thin line, clearly unwavering. Squeezing his hand a bit tighter, you added lightly, “Besides, you have more important things to worry about.”
Tech’s head tilted to the side, his eyes momentarily averting, but returned still as serious as before. “My duty to the Republic does take precedence, but that does not make your life any less important to me.”
You blinked once, then twice, absorbing his words. A part of you, a large part in fact, hoped the words carried more weight than just comfort.
You must’ve looked as taken off guard as you felt for Tech to ask, “Does that surprise you?”
You opened your mouth, ready to make a denial, only to snap your mouth shut again. Once more you tried to speak but only, “A little,” came out. The two words tasted harsh, as if you were making light of the situation and of his feelings. Stepping closer, you lowered your voice and quickly added, “You mean so much to me. I just… I -” In an uncharacteristic fit of stammering you spat out, “I just didn’t think you cared that much.”
Tech’s gaze fell to where you held his hand, his brows furrowing behind his goggles. You felt his hand twitch beneath yours before it fully twisted, placing his palm against yours. For a few moments, you stood like that, hand in hand with his gaze locked on your hold.
His focus remained there, his thumb starting gentle paths as he slowly said, “I admit that I… only recently came to the conclusion myself.”
“What changed?” His eyes snapped to yours at your question.
Tech’s brows lifted and along with a corner of his lips. “It would appear the sight of you in the company of your former partner was not one I found enjoyable.”
The realization that all your hopes had rung true left you breathless. A warm flush spread across your cheeks, accompanied by a smile that not only curved your lips but also reached your eyes.
You laced your fingers into his, eagerly confessing, “Tech, I-”
“Where do you intend to sleep?” Tech cut you off with no thought to what you’d attempted to say.
Lost in the heat of the moment you took a moment to blink back into the present. “I’m sorry?”
Tech pointed a finger towards the door going inside. “You gave up every viable sleeping arrangement. Where will you sleep?”
Instead of admitting your previous intentions of avoiding sleep, you shrugged with an amused sigh. Hands still intertwined, you stepped back, tilted your head back and chuckled. “I was playing it by ear.”
“There is enough room beside me for you to fit.” Tech said matter of factly. A playful glint passed through his eyes. “Shall we find out?” You immediately conceded, gesturing for him to lead the way.
As per usual, Tech was right. There was more than enough room for you both to fit into his makeshift bed. Tech adjusted the pillows to his liking and laid back, the both of you looking up at the ceiling in silence. Eventually Tech turned with his back to you, seeking some reprieve from the air between you.
Taking the opportunity before you, you scooted in behind him. He was nearly a foot taller than you, but somehow you fit in nicely behind him. He said little, simply adjusting back against you and positioning your arms around him.
Just as he settled in, he started twisting in place, saying, “I should make note of such a significant moment.”
You answered his movements by tightening your arms around him. “Tomorrow. For now, sleep.”
He didn’t struggle against you, choosing to settle back again. “I fear that it will be harder than I originally imagined.”
I love a little bit of crosshair or echo x reader x tech or wrecker x reader x hunter if you’re up for it!!
focus
pairings: echo x reader, tech x reader
word count: 3k
warnings: explicit, nsfw, smut
summary: You can't relax. Echo and Tech are more than happy to help.
notes: this took so long for me to answer i'm so SORRY
“Forget I said anything.” A blush steadily rises to your cheeks as you slide two glasses of whiskey across the polished bar. “It’s not important.”
Unfortunately for you, Echo and Tech are not forgetful men.
In fact, these two are probably the least forgetful men you’ve ever met. It’s a trait that can be charming when they remember the little things about you, like your name day, your middle name, or even your favorite kind of flower. But it’s less charming in moments like these, when you’d really prefer them to let something go. Especially something as mortifying as this.
You expected them to brush off your off-handed comment. How wrong you were.
Tech’s eyes narrow behind his goggles, like he’s deciphering lost texts from an ancient civilization or puzzling through a mathematical equation left unsolved for thousands of years. Only this time, you’re the equation standing right in front of him.
He starts to ask, “You’ve really never had a–”
“Be quiet!” You swipe at him with your dish rag. Your blush deepens. “Of course I’ve had an orgasm. Just…not exactly with anyone.”
Judging by the expression on both their faces, that explanation isn’t much better.
You never shared anything this personal with any of your regulars, but they were different. Over time, you’d come to greatly admire the two quick-witted men that sat at your bar each weekend. Sometimes you suspected it was just to keep you company, though they always insisted they had nowhere else to be.
During the six months you’d known them, they’d quickly become your friends. You loved hearing stories of their reckless adventures, and they loved teasing you about your tragic dating attempts - which, unfortunately, gave them plenty of material to work with.
Tech’s brow furrows as he reaches for his whiskey. “It’s really not that complex of a process–”
“Tech,” Echo gently admonishes. He always struck you as the more understanding of the two, soft-spoken and compassionate, where Tech’s brilliance sometimes makes him crass. It’s not that Tech deliberately tries to push your buttons, but his straightforward approach to life often lacks subtlety, to say the least.
You know he cares. But for Tech, there’s a solution to everything. And sometimes, you don't want a solution - you just want to complain.
“I have another date tonight,” you tell them, though there’s no excitement in your voice. You sigh. “I don’t know. Maybe there’s something wrong with me.”
That is the understatement of the century.
You know exactly what’s wrong. You’re too distracted by your own thoughts. Can’t relax. You’re intently focused on whether you’re taking too long during sex, too nervous about how you taste, how you feel, too busy contemplating why you agreed to a date with a guy who thinks hammering his fingers inside you for thirty seconds is an acceptable form of foreplay. Seriously, in what galaxy has a woman ever honestly enjoyed that?
You’re close to swearing off your miserable dating antics forever, but there’s a stubborn part of you that still hopes for the best.
But when tonight’s date inevitably goes to shit, you regret not swearing off dating sooner.
The candlelit bubble bath waiting for you back home is the only saving grace of your night, and even that does little to soothe your irritation. You sit there until the water turns tepid, then leave the bath feeling just as annoyed as before.
Shutting off your commlink and dimming the lights, you change into your nightgown and settle into bed, propping a smutty new holobook on top of your thick woven blankets. At least the broody, overly protective man in this book can’t disappoint you. And if he did, you'd throw this book out the window.
You’re just about to read the page where the enemies finally become lovers when the faint creak of your kitchen window sliding open captures your attention.
Opening your nightstand drawer, you fumble for the spare kitchen knife you keep stashed under a pile of tangled charging cords and a box of condoms, which haven’t been touched in months. It’s the longest knife you own - strictly designated as your ‘for emergencies only’ knife. Only this is the first emergency you've ever had to use it for.
You didn’t trust yourself with a blaster, despite Echo and Tech’s insistence on teaching you. You were more likely to blast a hole through your shared apartment wall than actually hit a target, and your greedy landlord was probably scarier than most criminals wandering the streets of Coruscant.
You live on the ninth floor - no one is hauling their ass up here unless they’re extremely motivated. So, knife it is. And then probably death.
You creep into the hallway, blade at the ready. Leading with the pointy end, you turn into the kitchen and –
A strong hand pins your wrist in mid-air. A familiar hand.
Tech tsks in disappointment. He croons deep and low in your ear, “I thought we taught you better than that, darling.”
“Tech!?” You scrabble blindly for the panel on the wall and switch on the lights. “What the hell?”
Tech doesn’t dignify that with a response. Instead, he side-eyes your measly weapon, the one he warned you multiple times was not a proper tool for protection. But did you listen to him? Of course not.
Tech carefully removes the knife from your hand. It clatters on the side table near the entryway.
“What were you planning on doing with that?” Echo’s voice calls out behind you. You whirl around to find him perched on the windowsill, cybernetic legs half-dangling through the open window. The open window that’s nine stories up.
“Are you insane?” You storm over and yank him inside the living room. “You could have fallen to your death!" Frowning, you peer outside. "How did you even get up here?"
Echo shrugs. “We climbed.”
“Climbed?”
He nods, nonchalant, as if you’re the one overreacting when they both just free-climbed a high-rise building to break into your apartment.
“Seriously, what the hell are you two doing here?”
“Evidence of your survival required further investigation, since you disabled your comm device and keep a bread knife for protection,” Tech replies dryly. He’s never going to let the knife thing go. “You went on a date and never returned our calls.”
“Because I was busy," you hiss between clenched teeth. "Maybe I invited him over and had a grand ol' time.”
His brow quirks in disbelief. You cringe at his reaction, obviously needing to work on your lying.
You cross your arms. “I was trying to relax.”
“Some late night reading?” Echo quips, a knowing smirk tugging on his lips.
“No,” you stammer. Your throat bobs.
“Very convincing.”
He nods to Tech, then meanders down the hallway, making his way to your bedroom. Tech follows him, eager to see how this plays out.
“Ugh! Wait!” You rush after them, irritated by how easily they called your bluff. “Both of you are ridiculous! You climb up here, you break into my kitchen, you–” Scrambling, you search for something, anything, to throw in their smug faces. Your gaze lands on their boots. “You wear your outdoor shoes in my apartment! And never, ever in my life have I met two men as–”
You don't get to finish your sentence. Because without any warning, Echo’s mouth claims yours.
Time seems to slow. Your lips part in surprise and he cups your jaw, sweeping a gloved thumb over your heated skin. Fiery, white sparkles flash behind your eyelids. Your heart races, as if it might burst through your chest, and all you can focus on is the warm comfort of his mouth against yours.
He guides you backwards until you’re pressed against Tech’s solid chest. There are warm hands - Tech’s, you think - ruffling the hem of your nightgown and squeezing your waist. You let out a breathy, contented sigh and grasp the nape of Echo’s neck, attempting to pull him closer.
Time speeds back up again, and he breaks the kiss. His darkened irises are blown wide as he pulls away, his fingers trembling against your cheek.
“Is this okay?” Echo rasps, desperate.
Your hand tightens on the back of his neck, but he doesn’t budge, needing an answer first. Needing your words.
There’s nothing but endless patience and kindness in his eyes. He watches you, eager and hopeful, like you’re everything he’s ever dreamed of, everything he desperately craves.
A chrono ticks steadily on the wall, in time with your racing heartbeat. Seconds pass. Maybe a minute. His scomp brushes your outer thigh, light and ticklish.
You crane your head back. The look in Tech’s eyes is equally as devastating. Full of hunger and yearning. You’re not used to such devotion from any man, especially not two of them. Unfamiliar warmth flood your chest, enveloping you whole.
You barely manage to whisper “yes” before Echo’s kissing you again.
His tongue sweeps over your bottom lip. He swallows your helpless moans, leans in closer and devours you. His kisses are devastating, alternating between slow and devoted, filthy and ravenous. Pleasant tingles coil in your lower stomach. Your body sinks into his, into Tech’s.
You don’t know what you’re doing. But you like it very much. You like being squeezed between two muscled bodies, hardened from war and vigorous conditioning, you like their hands roaming and teasing your skin.
Your fingers snag on Echo’s bodysuit, unsure whether to push him away or haul him even closer.
He must sense your hesitation because he quietly murmurs, “Would you like us to leave?”
“No,” you answer quickly, eyes fluttering. You stroke the side of his neck, then reach back to tangle your fingers in Tech’s hair, tugging gently at the short strands. “I just – is this about earlier? About…you know?”
You can’t even say it. You’re a grown adult, and you can’t say it. Your little orgasm problem is that embarrassing to you. And it’s hard not to take it personally.
“We can take care of you,” Tech whispers into your ear, breaking through your imminent spiraling. His teeth tug at your earlobe. “If that’s something you want.”
Tech tightens his hold on you, deft fingers skimming the gentle contours of your hips. You wiggle in his embrace to face him.
Echo slides behind you, mouthing the side of your neck, the line of your jaw. It’s hard to think.
“I just…I have trouble,” you quietly admit. "It's not easy for me. To come."
“Don’t focus on that.” His fingers twist in your silk nightgown. “Focus on me. Focus on Echo.” His low, strained voice sends a shiver down your spine. Your gown lifts past your thighs, past your hips. “Relax and let us take care of you, darling.”
Rising onto your toes, you lean forward to kiss him.
His kisses are softer than Echo’s, more controlled. Like he’s testing what you like, logging every reaction for later. You hum in pleasure as his tongue gently rolls into your mouth, swirling with yours, sweeping the edge of your teeth.
You’re carried to your bedroom. The mattress dips under the combined weight of three bodies, and your smutty holobook falls to the plush carpet below, the fictional lovers hastily forgotten.
Tech makes quick work of your nightgown, tugging the silk over your head. His eyes sweep down your form, briefly lingering on the soft curves of your breasts, exposed to the chill of your apartment.
“So beautiful,” he murmurs. Calloused hands massage your breasts.
He really does have pretty hands, you think. They both do. Nimble hands with long, slender fingers that you’ve imagined sliding into you more than once. His thumbs roll your nipples, then he traces a line down your sternum, all the way to your navel.
A sinful expression crosses his face as he presses you into the mattress, fingers splaying over the planes of your stomach. “Be a good girl and lay your head in Echo’s lap.”
You blink in surprise. “Wh-what?”
“You heard me.”
More clothes are tossed to the floor - the top of Echo’s bodysuit, Tech’s goggles. Your panties slide past your ankles.
Echo cradles your head in his lap while Tech kneels at the foot of the bed. His corded muscles ripple as he nestles between your legs, nudging them further apart.
Fingertips brush the crease of your thighs, as if in reverence. Like he can’t believe you’re spread open for him, soaked and aching.
Your legs are slung over his broad shoulders. Hips pinned down. He takes his time with you, inching deliberately, torturously slow towards where you want him the most.
His teeth nibble a path down your inner thighs, lips smoothing the small hurt, sucking on each spot until there’s a good enough mark, until you’re flustered and whimpering beneath him.
Tech lets out a low chuckle, the sound muffled by your thighs. He raises his head. “Is this alright?”
It takes you a second to respond. “Yes,” you whisper, a little breathlessly.
He continues his perusal, slow and maddening, committing every inch of your skin to memory. Love bites dot your inner thighs. Your core throbs.
A tongue flattens itself against your slit as Echo lowers his mouth to your nipple. A gasping noise you’ve never made before tears from your lips. Tech hums in amusement and tightens his grip, holding you in place.
It’s so much stimulation at once. Echo flicks his tongue over your nipple, tugging the bud between his lips. Tech gently parts you, holding you open as he teases your entrance, then laps at your clit with slow, lazy strokes.
Echo skims the swell of your breast and circles his thumb over your peaked nipple. He buries his face in your neck and kisses your jaw, focusing on the sensitive pulse point thrumming there.
Tech’s tongue dips inside you, pressing gently in and out. Stars burst behind your eyes and you let out a shaky breath, hips jerking involuntarily. His fingers swirl over your aching clit.
Your hand tugs desperately at his hair while the other reaches for Echo. Tech pins your wrist to the mattress; Echo laces his fingers through your hand.
Needy, strangled pleas spill from your lips. Echo’s answering smirk is pure, wicked amusement. You can’t tell if Tech is smiling, but the subtle crinkles at the corners of his eyes let you know he’s enjoying this. Both men are frighteningly determined, united in their merciless intent to drive you wild.
Honeyed words of praise are murmured in your ear. Sloppy, relentless flicks against your clit have you trembling and moaning. Two of Tech’s fingers slide into you, just the tip, the barest of stretches. Deep, hungry kisses are planted across your chest. Intense pressure builds low in your belly, so close to snapping.
You’ve never felt anything this intimate. Echo traces his thumb across the swollen curve of your bottom lip, his praise turning filthy and shameless. A growl rumbles deep in his throat.
This isn’t the Echo you recognize - the shy, reserved soldier that sits politely at your bar and walks you home whenever it’s dark out. This Echo is passionate and unrestrained. You melt under his attention, blushing at the words he’s whispering into the crook of your neck.
“You’re doing so well, baby. Focus on me – there you go.”
“That’s our girl.” He nips your earlobe. Tugs it between his teeth. “So perfect.”
“I love the sweet little sounds you make. I bet you taste even sweeter, doesn’t she, Tech?”
Tech groans in confirmation, and the vibrations ripple through your core. His fingers massage your inner walls, his mouth working in tandem as you clench around him, your eyes fluttering. You whimper. It’s too much, too intense. You’re so close to the edge, ready to teeter into blissful oblivion.
His fingers curl on a sensitive spot –
– And you shatter.
Waves of pleasure overtake you, and your thighs tighten around Tech’s face, your toes curling. You cry out, unable to form words, unable to form coherent thoughts. It’s like a flash of lightning, sudden and blinding, heating your veins and jumpstarting your frozen heart. Your core clenches around his fingers, still working you through the aftershocks.
It’s the sweetest ache. An indescribable feeling - better than your fingers, better than any vibrator.
Your eyes must have briefly closed, because you’re distantly aware of your comforter ruffling. You're eased onto the pillows and two bodies slide into bed beside you, warm chests resting on either side.
A hand gently smooths out your hair. Another draws patterns on the inside of your elbow. An arm is thrown over your bare waist, holding you close.
Frowning, you blink your eyes open and lean in to press soft kisses to their cheekbones - first Tech’s, then Echo’s. “I hope we’re not done yet,” you mumble into Echo’s shoulder, placing a tender kiss right above his attachment. “Unless you two have anything else to do tonight.”
“We are indeed available,” Tech confirms, eyes glistening. “Though after that reaction, I wondered whether you had the energy to continue.”
You turn to face him. “Are you saying I can’t keep up?”
A faint smile curves his lips. “I’m saying that I was rather effective at exhausting you.”
You playfully swat his arm. “Has anyone told you that you have a smart mouth?”
“Constantly,” he replies, preening. “I’m regularly complimented on my exceptional mind.”
You and Echo groan in unison. Echo mutters something under his breath about not encouraging him, because you’ll never hear the end of it.
You snort. “Are you also complimented on being a smart-ass?”
“I can’t say that anyone has ever - oh.” Your hand slips under the waistband of his bodysuit, fingers wrapping around the thick, blunt head of his cock. Tech hisses as your thumb circles the sensitive ridge, working your palm down his length.
“That’s what I thought,” you murmur, grinning as his hips twitch forward. Behind you, Echo starts to shift, his muscular thigh slotting between your legs. Gentle lips caress your collarbone.
“You can pick who goes first,” he whispers, voice raspy and low. He angles your head against his chest. Teeth scrape the column of your throat. “It’s your choice.”
“Personally, I was thinking of trying something else.”
His scomp trails up your thigh. “Hmm?”
Thighs spreading, you arch back into him, feeling his length slide against your core. Your hand keeps working Tech’s cock. “I want both of you at the same time.”
When a late night chat in a shared bed leads to Echo discussing his insecurities, you can’t help but wonder if he could use his insecurities to his advantage.
warnings: NSFW, 18+ only. self indulgent fic. Explicit sexual content and lanaguage, share a bed trope, Inappropriate use of a scomp link, p in v sex, friends to lovers, squirting, oral sex (reader receiving) scomp used as a vibrator, cum eating, finger sucking, multiple positions ie riding and missionary, creampie, pillow talk, aftercare, dirty talk. Light angst, insecure Echo.
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“Well, they didn’t mention there’d be only one bed.” You huffed, collapsing against the doorframe after trudging up ten flights of stairs, fully equipped with your armor and supplies. The elevator was out of order—of course. The day had already been grueling enough, and the sight of this rundown hotel was a small miracle in itself.
You and the squad had scraped together what few credits you had, which meant sharing rooms. You didn’t really mind sharing a room—especially with someone you knew didn’t snore too loudly. But you hadn’t quite expected the sleeping arrangements to be so...cozy.
“I’ll take the floor, don’t worry.” Echo’s voice broke through your thoughts as he set his bag and helmet down on the dresser, turning to face you. He noticed your slight frown and tilted his head.
“Echo, no.” You shook your head firmly, letting your own gear clatter to the floor. You crossed to the bed and flopped onto it, sighing with relief as the surprisingly soft mattress crinkled under the weight of your armor. “There’s enough room for at least three people. We’ll share.”
Echo seemed taken aback, his expression shifting as if he was searching for the right words to protest. You couldn’t help but grin. “What?” you teased, eyes gleaming. “Do I smell terrible or something?”
“Of course not,” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just... I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, that’s all.”
“We’re friends, Echo. It’s fine.” You tucked your arms under your head, relaxing into the mattress. “You don’t have to worry about me.”
But Echo’s concern wasn’t really about your comfort in sharing a bed; it was about his cybernetics. He worried about accidentally jabbing you with one of his mechanical limbs in the middle of the night. He kept those thoughts to himself, though, letting the room fall into a companionable silence.
After a moment, you sat up and stretched. “I’m going to take a shower before bed,” you announced. “Who knows when we’ll get hot water again.”
The small bathroom was stocked with tiny bottles of body wash, and you made the most of them. Stepping under the warm spray, you lathered up, savoring the rare luxury. You let the water run through your hair and down your back, briefly closing your eyes as the stress and exhaustion of the day washed away. For a moment, you considered sitting right down on the tile and letting the water pour over you until you forgot about the relentless grind of finding work and scraping by. But you knew better than to waste the water—or the time.
Reluctantly, you shut off the shower and dried yourself off. Pulling on a pair of shorts and an oversized training shirt (which was more than likely Echo’s given the size) that you had stolen as a nightshirt months back. You ran a towel through your damp hair and stepped back into the room. Echo was still by the window, staring out with an expression that suggested his mind was miles away.
“Everything alright?” you asked softly, padding over to him. He blinked, snapping out of whatever thoughts had taken him so far away.
“Yeah, just... thinking,” he replied, his voice just as soft.
You gave him a small smile and squeezed his arm lightly. “You can think all you want, but get some rest too, okay?”
He returned your smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You too.”
With that, you both settled into bed, the quiet hum of the city outside lulling you into a sense of peace. It didn’t take long for sleep to pull you under.
Echo eventually joined you in bed, lying stiffly on his side as if unsure how to relax. Despite the unfamiliar softness of the mattress, you quickly drifted off. But the comfort was almost too much—after spending so long sleeping on hard ground or cold ship floors, it was strange to sleep somewhere so cozy.
About two hours later, you stirred awake, blinking in the dim light filtering through the window. You noticed a faint glow from the corner of your eye and turned over, slightly frowning when you saw Echo still awake, his face lit by the pale light of a datapad.
You hesitated, not wanting to disturb him. But your mouth was dry, so you carefully slipped out of bed to grab a glass of water. When you returned and snuggled back under the covers, sleep was elusive. After a few minutes of tossing and turning, you quietly asked, “Echo… you still awake?”
He shifted slightly and rolled onto his back, his eyes catching yours. “Yeah,” he admitted. “Can’t sleep either.”
You smile and switched on your bedside light, casting a small but warm glow over you and half of Echo
“What are you looking at?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you lay comfortably on your side and look up to him..
He was silent for a moment, as if debating whether to tell you. “Rex sent me some old holopics; from back when I was with the 501st.”
You propped yourself up on one elbow. “Can I see them?”
He hesitated, but then passed you the datapad. You looked down at an image showing Rex, Cody, Fives, and Echo—back when Echo was…himself. But different. His features were softer, a thick head of hair, his expression more carefree, with no trace of the weight he now carried.
“You look so…” you began, but you struggled to find the right word.
“Normal,” Echo finished flatly, his tone laced with bitterness. You winced at the irritation in his voice, though you knew it wasn’t directed at you.
“No, I wasn’t going to say that,” you said gently as you handed him back the device. “You look fine.”
He sighed, eyes dropping to the scomp link on his arm. “I don’t feel fine. It’s stupid, but I used to imagine life after the war. Maybe I’d find a wife, maybe even have a family.” He shook his head, his voice tinged with regret. “But that feels impossible now.”
“Why?” you asked softly as you looked up at him, though you already knew the answer. His gaze dropped to the scomp link again, the metal gleaming faintly in the low light.
“This,” he said simply, gesturing to his cybernetics. “Who would want someone like me?”
Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. “Echo, I think you’re handsome,” you say earnestly. When he scoffed in disbelief, you pressed on. “I’m being serious. You’ve been through so much, and you’re still here, still fighting. That’s strength, and it’s something anyone would admire. Besides,” you added with a small smile, “I always feel calm and safe around you. That’s rare.”
Echo looked at you, the skepticism in his eyes giving way to something softer, more uncertain. “You really mean that?”
“I do,” you assured him, your voice steady. “You’re more than just what’s happened to you. And one day, you’ll find someone else who sees that, too.”
Echo’s gaze softened, but there was still a shadow lingering in his eyes. “Can I tell you something?”
You nod for him to continue.
“I miss… being able to hold someone,” he confessed quietly. “To just feel close to someone like that.”
The ache you felt for him was real, but a memory stirred in your mind. “You’ve held me before,” you said softly, offering him a small smile.
His brows furrowed in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
You chuckled, recalling a specific mission. “Remember that op where I got hit hard? You carried me all the way back to the ship. I was out cold, but I woke up in your arms.”
A short laugh escaped him as he shook his head. “I guess that does count… in a way. But it’s not really the same thing.” There was a hint of amusement in his voice.
The room fell into a comfortable silence, the distant hum of the city filtering through the window. Yet, his earlier vulnerability lingered in your mind, tempting your curiosity. Before you could second-guess yourself, you blurted out a question that had been simmering at the edges of your thoughts.
“So… have you ever used your scomp… like that?”
He blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”
You felt your cheeks heat up as you tried to clarify. “You know… for, um, pleasuring someone?”
Echo shifted beside you, clearing his throat awkwardly. You quickly reached for the glass of water on the bedside table and offered it to him. “Water?” you asked, trying to play off your embarrassment.
He shook his head, giving a soft, disbelieving chuckle. “No, thanks,” he murmured, but then his expression grew more serious. “And no, I haven’t. The opportunity hasn’t really come up.”
The idea intrigued you, and you couldn’t help the curiosity bubbling up. “Could you… show me what it feels like?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “On my arm, I mean.”
Echo watched you carefully, his gaze searching your face for any sign of hesitation. When he didn’t see any, he slowly raised his scomp and gently placed it against your forearm. At your nod, he activated it, letting the subtle vibrations pulse against your skin.
You gasped softly at the sensation—not painful at all, just ticklish and almost soothing. “See?” you said with a smile. “That’s not bad at all. Any lady would be lucky.”
Echo’s gaze remained fixed on you, a hint of surprise in his eyes. But the playful teasing between you shifted into somewhat deeper. A moment of soft silence lingered, charged with something new. The warmth in the room took on a different tone as you looked into each other’s eyes, both of you aware of the tension hanging in the air.
Your thoughts strayed, and you felt your body respond in a way that left you breathless. Your voice was small, almost hesitant. “You could try it out on my thighs too. If you want.”
Echo’s eyes darkened slightly as he considered your suggestion, his jaw clenching as he weighed the idea. He finally nodded and he waited for you to roll onto your back, his gaze never leaving yours as he reached out again, his scomp moving under the shared duvet and hovering just above your leg.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I think so.”
The moment the vibrations touched your skin, a shiver ran through you. The sensation was smooth, surprisingly gentle, and far more electrifying than you’d imagined. Your breathing hitched, and despite your best efforts, a quiet moan slipped past your lips. Your eyes closing and head leaning back comfortably on your pillow. “That feels nice.” You gasp.
Echo’s gaze grew more intense as he watched you react, his own expression shifting as he absorbed the effect his touch had on you. The air between you grew thicker, the boundary between curiosity and desire blurring.
You swallowed, your voice unsteady as you whispered, “Echo, if you want… you could please me, you know? I’d like that.” The words came out before you could overthink them.
Echo’s eyes darkened further, a new tension in the set of his shoulders. Slowly, he nodded, his voice a low rasp. “If that’s what you want…” His gaze flicked down, watching as you slid down your shorts beneath the covers, your legs parting slightly.
He moved closer, the mattress dipping as his focus remained entirely on you. He watched every subtle shift in your expression, his own breath growing heavier as he prepared to explore this moment with you. Whatever it was.
Echo’s hand hovered above your thigh, his scomp poised just inches from your skin. When he finally lowered it, the vibrations moved between your folds with a slow, deliberate rhythm. The sensation was like nothing you’d ever felt before—gentle but intense, the subtle pulses sending waves of warmth through your core. “That’s.. oh - fuck.” You moan, eyes intense as you lock eyes with him.
“Do you like that, beautiful?” He cooed, a faint smile on his lips as he watched you react to the compliment.
“S’good,” you whine, toes curling as his scomp presses down and vibrates against your swelling clit. Every time he adjusted the pressure, your breath hitched, the tingling pleasure building as his scomp dipped lower, gliding along your slickness.
Your body responded instinctively, hips rising to meet the movement as the blanket tangled around your legs. In the haze of growing desire, you grabbed the fabric and threw it aside, exposing yourself fully to him. The cool air brushed against your heated skin, but it was nothing compared to the thrill of letting Echo see exactly what he was doing to you.
His eyes blown wide, gaze dropping to the glistening sight between your legs. A low, needy sound escaped him, a mix between a groan and a sigh. “You have such a pretty pussy,” he rasped, his voice rough with barely contained lust as he licked his lips. The simple, honest words made you clench, a wave of need rolling through you that had your head spinning.
The vibrations increased, pressing directly against your sensitive clit, and you cried out, your voice breaking into a moan. “Oh, Echo—I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum,” you gasped, the pressure building to a dizzying peak. Every nerve in your body felt like it was on fire, the relentless rhythm of his scomp pushing you closer and closer to that edge. You grabbed harshly on his arm, holding his scomp exactly where it needed to be. “Baby, d-don’t stop.”
Echo’s gaze stayed locked on your swollen, slick flesh, his breath coming in rough pants as he watched you writhe beneath him. “Let me feel it,” he urged, his voice rough with desire. “Let me see you cum for me.”
The moment his words hit you, everything snapped. Your body arched off the bed, back curving as the pleasure surged through you in powerful waves. You cried out his name, trembling as the release tore through you, the sensation almost too much as his scomp kept pulsing against your now overstimulated clit.
He held you there, watching every twitch, every aftershock that rippled through your body. His eyes were wild, dark with hunger as he savoured the way you came undone beneath him. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, almost as if to himself, as if he couldn’t believe how perfect you looked falling apart for him.
When the vibrations finally eased and you could catch your breath, you met his gaze, still reeling from the intensity of the moment. “That was pretty damn good.” You gasp breathlessly, legs still twitching every so often.
“And you looked it, too,” he rasps and you realise how close he was to you now, his face a few inches from yours. You didn’t want this to end.
A soft giggle escapes your lips as you take his scomp in your hand, meeting his gaze with a playful glint in your eyes. Slowly, you bring the metal to your mouth, letting your tongue glide over it, tasting your own slick. The mixture of your warmth and the cool metal sends a shiver down your spine. Echo watches in stunned silence, his eyes fixed on the sight of you licking yourself off his scomp. His breath catches as he murmurs your name, almost reverent, “You don’t realise how much I wish I could feel that…”
You tilt your head, grinning mischievously. “You have another hand, don’t you?” you tease, your voice light. His eyes widen slightly at the suggestion, and after a moment of hesitation, he nods, waiting for you to give the go-ahead. You answer him with a small, encouraging smile.
His fingers are careful as they slide over your folds, still tender and sensitive from your climax. He moves gently, massaging with a touch that’s reverent and exploratory, collecting your slick on his fingers. You gasp at the contact, the mixture of pleasure and overstimulation sending jolts through you.
Without breaking eye contact, he brings his fingers to your lips, offering them to you. You eagerly take them into your mouth, sucking on them with a slow, deliberate rhythm, savouring the taste of yourself while his eyes darken even more.
But you want to return the favour—want to see him fall apart just as he did for you. As you release his fingers with a soft pop, you notice his hand shifting to palm himself through his pants. There’s a tension in his jaw, a hesitation, as if he’s too shy to ask for what he needs. You decide to take the lead.
“Echo,” you said softly, brushing a hand over his cheek. “Before we do this… can I see you?”
He blinked, a flicker of hesitation crossing his features. You could see the doubt creeping in, his usual guardedness returning. His gaze dropped as he began to mumble, “I’m not exactly—my legs, my body… I know it’s not what—”
You cut him off, gently taking his face in your hands. “No. You’re beautiful, Echo,” you insisted, your tone firm but tender. “Every part of you.”
The sincerity in your voice made his breath hitch, and after a beat, he nodded, his eyes meeting yours.
You helped him slide out of the rest of his clothes, taking in the sight of him fully bare to you. The scars, the cybernetics—everything that made him who he was. And as you gazed at him, there was no judgment, no hesitation. “You’re perfect,” you whispered, letting the words sink in as you ran your hands over his chest, tracing every line and curve. His heart hammered in his chest, and you could see the way his eyes softened, that lingering insecurity slowly melting away.
Quietly, you shift onto your knees and slowly peel off your top, letting it fall away as your breasts bounce free. His eyes widen, unable to hide the awe in his expression. “Woah,” he breathes out, his voice tinged with disbelief, as though he can’t quite process what’s happening. Your cheeks heat up as your hand caresses over his erection, thick and hard, the sight of him making your mouth water.
“Do you want me, Echo?”
He swallows hard, eyes locked on yours. “More than anything,” he rasps, voice thick with need. You position yourself over him, guiding the head of his cock between your folds, letting him feel the heat and wetness before you take him in.
With a slow, deliberate movement, you lower yourself onto him, feeling him stretch you wide open as you sink down onto his length. A moan slips from your lips at the sensation, the delicious stretch of him filling you completely. His grip on your waist tightens as he groans deeply, the sound vibrating through his chest.
The feeling of him buried deep inside you is overwhelming, almost intoxicating. The heat between you builds, your bodies starting to find a rhythm that leaves you both breathless.
Every thrust, every slide, is filled with a raw, desperate need, as if neither of you can get enough. Echo’s hand roams over your body, his touch reverent and hungry all at once, while you take him deeper with each roll of your hips. The way he looks at you—like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen—was enough to almost make yoh tumble into another quick orgasm. “Fuck,” you whisper, feeling the tension build again. “You feel so good inside me, Echo.”
He groans in response, his grip tightening as he thrusts up into you, desperate to keep that connection, to prolong the pleasure that’s surging through both of you. “Yes baby, that’s it. You're riding me so good. Take me.”
With a sudden burst of intensity, Echo flips you onto your back, his eyes wild with desire. He climbs on top of you, pressing the length of his body against yours, but there’s a flicker of uncertainty in his gaze. “Hold me,” you beg breathlessly, needing the closeness, the comfort of being wrapped in his arms as he takes you. But you see the panic flash in his eyes—he doesn’t know how, isn’t sure he can do it right.
Sensing his hesitation, you act on instinct, lifting yourself slightly and guiding his scomp beneath your back, the cool metal settling against your skin in a strange but oddly comforting embrace. “Like this,” you whisper, your voice full of reassurance as you take his free hand and hook it under your thigh, anchoring you in place.
With renewed confidence, he adjusts his grip, holding you steady as he begins to thrust into you with a deep, yet tender rhythm. Your forehead rests against his, your breaths ragged. You don’t think you’ve ever been made love to before, but you were pretty certain this is what it was like. In the midst of the frenzy, you both suddenly pause, realising that despite everything, you still haven’t kissed. The thought hangs in the air for a split second before your lips come together, the kiss charged with all the pent-up passion that had been building between you. At first it’s soft, tender before you whine for him to go faster when it becomes messy, almost frantic. Tongues tangling as you both lose yourselves in the moment.
The bed shakes beneath you, the frame creaking with each powerful stroke as he pounds into you. You can’t hold back—your voice cracks as you pant his name over and over, each plea more desperate and needy than the last. Your legs wrap tightly around him, urging him deeper, while the raw heat of his body and the delicious friction sends sparks through your every nerve.
When you pull back for air, his gaze is intense, admiration and hunger shining in his eyes. “You look so good like this,” he groans, his voice low and thick. “Do you want me to cum inside you, beautiful? Want me to stuff you full of my cum? I want to make sure you feel me inside you long after this.”
His words send you spiraling, your fingers digging into his back as you cling to him, desperate for more. The sound of his balls slapping against your slick, sweaty skin fills the room, every thrust harder and deeper than the last. The pressure builds rapidly, your body tightening around him as you feel yourself teetering on the edge.
“Echo—I’m gonna—” The words barely escape your lips before your release crashes over you like a tidal wave. Your back arches off the bed as you find yourself squirting all over him, the intensity of it leaving you trembling and gasping for breath. The slick warmth of your release covers his cock, dripping down his thighs as he continues to pound into you, chasing his own release.
His rhythm stutters, hips jerking as he reaches his peak. With a deep, guttural groan of your name, he buries himself inside you, filling you with his warmth as his cock throbs within your walls. You feel every pulse, every spurt of his cum, until he’s spent, panting heavily above you.
As he collapses into your arms, your bodies still trembling from the intensity of it all, there’s nothing but the sound of your ragged breathing and the soft, shared smiles that linger between you.
As the intensity of the moment faded, Echo’s hand found yours, fingers intertwining as you both tried to catch your breath. The warmth of his body pressed against yours brought a comforting stillness. He was still, resting his head on your chest, your hearts beating in sync as you gently stroked the back of his neck.
“You okay?” He asked softly, his voice tender and laced with a bit of concern as his thumb brushed along your knuckles.
You smiled, nodding as you looked down at him. “More than okay,” you whispered. “That was amazing.”
A shy grin tugged at his lips, a little bit of that old insecurity trying to creep in. “I never thought—I mean, I didn’t know I could make you feel that way,” he admitted quietly and you can’t help but feel your body warm up at the fact you had squirted, something that had never happened before.
“Yeah,” you giggle breathlessly, “it was definitely new to me too. But it was perfect.”
For a few minutes, neither of you spoke, just enjoying the peaceful silence that wrapped around you like a warm blanket. But you could feel the tension that still lingered in his muscles, the weight of everything he’d been carrying for so long.
“Hey,” you murmured, rubbing soothing circles on his back. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
He hesitated, then finally opened up. “What if this doesn’t last? That I’ll wake up and realise it was all a dream. It feels too good to be real, you know?”
You shifted, cupping his face with both hands so he’d look directly into your eyes. “It’s real, Echo. I’m real. We’re real. And I’m not going anywhere.” Your voice steady, full of conviction.
The way he looked at you then, with those wide, hopeful eyes, made your heart swell. “Thank you,” he whispered, “for being patient with me. For seeing me.”
You leaned in and kissed him softly, letting the tenderness of the moment speak for itself. “I see you, Echo. Every part of you. And I want it all—the good, the complicated, the messy. I’m here for all of it.”
His eyes closed as he rested his forehead against yours. “You’re more than I ever thought I could have,” he whispered, his voice so low it was almost a breath. “I don’t deserve you.”
“You do. You deserve to be happy. To be loved. And I’m going to make sure you never forget that.”
The vulnerability in his gaze softened into something warmer, more secure. “I think I’m starting to believe you.”
A quiet laugh bubbled up between you as you settled back into the pillows, arms wrapped around each other in a comfortable tangle. The tension had fully melted away, leaving behind only the gentle, reassuring warmth of being with someone who truly understood.
“I’m so lucky I have you,” he murmured sleepily, his head nestling into the crook of your neck.
Hey hey! Could you do platonic headcanons with TBB where the reader reveals that she’s pregnant and they’ll be “uncles” after the events of the finale? Keep up the great work <3
[The Bad Batch x fem!reader (Headcanons)]: Platonic uncles
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Summary:
After the events of the finale, you find out you're pregnant and you decide to tell your friends that fought hundreds of battles alongside you.
TRIGGER WARNINGS: none really, just fluff and Crosshair being a bit of an idiot.
Enjoy!
I hope you like it Anon :p!
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HUNTER:
Already knew because of his enhanced senses.
He could probably feel all the changes your body was going through.
He's really happy to see you happy.
Kinda protective over you throughout the entire 9 months.
Like yeah he knows you can protect yourself since you've fought alongside his brothers but he can't help but become just a tad bit protective.
When the kid grows up, he's probably going to teach them how to hear noises by concentrating (even though it's not as good as his enhanced senses).
One time he lost his vibroblade and found your kid with it.
You almost killed Hunter when that happened.
Overall, he's a good uncle and a very nice friend when he's around the kid.
ECHO:
Actually surprised when you told him you were pregnant.
Like Hunter, he became slightly protective of you.
A bit reluctant when you introduced your significant other.
But if you trust them he trusts them too.
Best. Uncle. Ever.
Lets your kid play with his scomp link.
Echo is the type of uncle to tell your kids his story. From the Domino squad to him joining the Bad Batch to him joining the Rebellion.
Probably plays pirates with your kid because they told Echo he looked like a pirate because of his hand.
Overall: a cool uncle, probably a bit grumpy, but still a cool uncle.
WRECKER:
Super excited to have a mini-you running around Pabu.
When you actually told him he did not understand.
However, after a session of Tech's-info-dump, he got the idea.
I have a headcanon that he is a very nice uncle.
He will hide every single object from war so that the baby doesn't accidentally hurt themselves.
Actually tried to learn how to cook to make your kid Mantell mix. Spoiler: it goes wrong.
Will make shenanigans with your kid.
Overall, Wrecker is probably the most chaotic uncle of the entire galaxy.
TECH:
"Oh. Well, congratulations." Were his only words.
He is probably the least surprised out of the entire Batch.
Reminds you to take care of yourself.
Definitely keeps track of EVERYTHING.
He really cares for your safety and the safety of your kid.
Of course, he'd definitely be a good uncle.
I think Tech would be the uncle that-knows-it-all since he really is a walking Wookiepedia man.
Whenever he is alone with the kid, he will RAMBLE. Even though the kid will not understand, he will ramble until he needs to catch some air.
Overall: Human dictionary uncle (I love him for that)
CROSSHAIR:
Will act pissed, but he's actually proud that you made a life for yourself after everything you went through.
Not surprised at all when you told him. He just shrugged.
And then he joked about it saying that 'If he couldn't handle you, he couldn't handle a mini, more hyperactive version of you'.
He learnt how to sew to fix Wrecker's tooka bear and give it to your kid.
You will find it endearing but he will deny it nonetheless because he does not like people seeing his sweet-side.
He's surprisingly good at calming the kid down for some reason you can't really figure out.
Not really protective because he knows you can take care of yourself. But, that doesn't mean he won't keep an eye on you some days.
When the kid grows up, he will NOT show them his rifles because he knows the risks and he knows that you will probably kill him for showing weapons at a six year-old.
Overall: he's the type of uncle that will disappear for ten months and then come back and act like nothing happened. But he's still a nice uncle.
You've gotten used to naturally waking up to Naboo's only sun streaming through the blinds of your bedroom window. What you haven't gotten used to is waking up unable to breathe.
Well, you can breathe, but it's a slight struggle with two former ARC troopers sprawled out ontop of you. Echo is on your left (nearest to the window) with one leg thrown over your waist and an arm and his head resting on your bare chest. You always found it uncomfortable to sleep with a shirt on, especially when under the covers. Meanwhile, Fives practically has his entire body laying on you, limbs sprawled everywhere and his face is squeezed into the crook of your neck.
You turn your head and glare at all the space on their sides of the king sized bed you had brought to avoid situations like this. That being said, you don't hate cuddling. Quite the opposite, actually. After being forcibly seperated all the time during the war, none of you give up an opportunity for physical contact. You sigh and wrap your arms around them both, knowing better than to wake them up. Disturbing your Dominos when they're perfectly content snuggled up to you would be a death sentence.
A smile breaks out on your face when you think about how you had met. It had been a big victory for the 501st and they were granted shore leave for five days. 79s was ram packed with boys in blue so much so that there were hardly any natborns in there, but you'd managed to weasel your way in. You were sat at the bar, nursing a Corellian whiskey, when a certain ARC with a numbered tattoo started chatting you up and a sheepish man with a hand print on his chest plate stood next to him. It feels like yesterday that Fives had said those twelve corny words to you. "Hey, baby, you got a name, or can I call you mine?" A month later, you were dating the most handsome men the galaxy had ever seen and you've been together ever since.
You're snapped back to reality, when Fives stirs in his sleep. You think he's gonna wake up and finally release you from his chokehold, but he stays sound asleep and somehow manages to put even more weight on your ribs. The Domino twins, along with many other clones, lost a bit of muscle after the end of the war, but, by the Maker, they were still heavy. It's been four years since the end of the Clone Wars. General Kenobi defeated General Grievous on Utapau, General Skywalker brought Count Dooku into custody, Commander Tano brought Maul into custody and Chancellor Palpatine was discovered to be the mastermind behind this war and was killed by the Jedi Council. It took half a year for the discussion of clone equal rights in the Senate, which they were granted at the end of that year. It took two years for the Republic to create a suppressant for the clones' rapid aging, which managed to slow it down to natural human aging.
The loyal soldiers of the Grand Army of the Republic are free men.
You silently thank the Maker, when you notice the telltale signs of them starting to wake up - small twitches and grumbles. When Fives wakes slowly, he tends to stretch a bit like a loth cat. He yawns and does this little squeak that you don't dare mention, but it makes you smile anyway. After he stretches, he goes limp and boneless for a moment as his brain catches up to reality. Echo, however, tends to go from asleep to awake very smoothly. He doesn’t jerk awake as often anymore, but it’s a near thing. His body stays lax for the most part, but he blinks awake and takes just a second or two to get his bearings. Some mornings, he’ll lay with you for a little longer than usual, tucking his face up close to yours until you're both ready to get up.
They're absolutely adorable in their own ways.
You remain still when your partners awake. Fives sits up to stretch his whole body, before dumping his weight back ontop of you, making a grunt fall past your lips as he slightly knocks the air from your lungs. Echo blinks awake, tucks himself closer to you and breathes deeply. A luxury you can't perform yourself.
"Morning." Fives always has the deepest morning voice.
"Morning." You reply back. "Can you both breathe?"
A pair of concerned frowns meet your gaze, but you keep your expression innocent.
"Yeah?" Echo eventually answers.
"Well, I can't." You put it bluntly. "Shift."
You haven't seen them move so quick this early in the morning for years, as they scramble to their sides of the bed. You take a few deep breaths and, Maker, oxygen has never felt so good.
"You okay?" Fives looks down at you with furrowed brows. You nod tiredly and place a kiss to his forehead, causing his expression to calm.
"Yeah, I'm fine." You mumble, turning to kiss Echo's forehead aswell. "You have all that space and you still decide to crush me." You give them a pointed stare.
"Old habits die hard, cyar'ika." Fives smirks, wrapping his arms back around you, but making sure to give you more breathing room this time.
"We're sorry, cyare." A light blush coats Echo's face, as he sheepishly places a kiss to your cheek.
"It's not your fault." You reassure him, running a hand through his hair. "It's because of how many nights we all had to sleep in those regulation bunks that could hardly even fit one person in."
"Except this time, Echo isn't falling on his ass every five minutes." Fives sniggers.
You close your eyes with a smile, as you listen to them bicker about old times. Are you going to wake up with your airway being crushed again? Definitely. But you have your boys right where you want them, maybe breathing is acceptable to give up if it means you get to hold them as close as possible.
Could you maybe possibly do 15. “Did someone get turned on by that~?” with Echo? If you have time? <3
He seems like he'd be fun in the sack :P
Aw, thank you lovely! ECHO MY DARLING! I've been wanting to write more Echo so thank you! Hope you enjoy. 😏👉👈
Pairing: Echo x Gen!Reader
Word Count: 1100
Warnings: NSFW, 18+. Blowjob, Echo being a little self-conscious, reader not described. Post-Skako Minor Echo in TBB.
Spicy Prompts
Being in a relationship while on the run was difficult, but finding time alone while on a cramped ship with four other people made it even more difficult.
Finally, finally you and Echo had The Marauder to yourselves, the most time you’ve had alone since you started becoming…intimate.
You both weren’t sure what you were yet, but what started as lingering glances and soft words became gentle stolen kisses and roaming fingers at every chance you could be alone.
You were currently on Echo’s lap on his bunk, and what began as a sweet kiss was now feverish, swallowing one another’s quiet sighs as your hands roamed up under his shirt, feeling his warm muscles flex with your touch.
Echo’s fingers were wrapped in your hair, focusing intently on bringing you as close as possible to him. His other arm was around your back, careful not to poke you with his scomp.
Your dampening arousal was rubbing against the bulge growing in his pants, becoming hard to ignore for much longer.
Echo desperately wanted you, wanted to take care of you to the fullest extent, but a nagging anxiety in the back of his mind has been holding him back.
He found it hard to believe that you, someone so exquisite and wonderful and perfect, would want someone as imperfect as him.
Echo was worried his cybernetics would be too uncomfortable, too cold, too cumbersome.
That hasn’t stopped you yet, and you’ve told him dozens of times you aren’t bothered, that he was absolutely perfect, but Echo still struggled.
You broke the kiss to catch your breath, both your lips swollen and glossy from saliva.
“I want to see you…” You muttered, gazing at him with half-lidded eyes, the want for him burning in your belly. “All of you.”
“Are you sure…?” Echo whispered, your lips trailing down the side of his strong jaw to his neck.
You haven't taken your relationship past impassioned kissing and rutting against one another, but tonight you had the time to go further if you desired.
You hummed, nodding as you kissed down his neck. “Only if you want, though.” You nibbled right below his ear, and Echo’s response was immediate.
His hips bucked up against yours, a whine leaving his lips. You were surprised by his reaction, pulling away to look at him. Echo's eyes were wide, and he looked sheepish.
“Did someone get turned on by that?” You smiled, repeating your action at the same spot, excited by his reaction.
“I…” Echo’s words were lost in his throat as he whined again, feeling you gently suck at the sensitive area on his neck, his cock now straining between your legs.
You wiggled your hips, the delicious friction sending sparks up your spine as he let out another quiet gasp.
You trailed your mouth down, leaving kitten licks and nibbles as you went. Echo was clutching the back of your shirt, his breath coming out in huffs.
“We’ll go as far as you're comfortable…” You looked into his eyes that were now blown wide with desire. Echo knew you wanted more, and was thankful you were willing to take things slow.
The way you were handling him tonight, though, he felt more emboldened. Heat licked in his nerves at the way your mouth felt on him. He wanted, no, needed to feel your mouth elsewhere.
“You can keep going.” He grunted, watching you intently as your hand trailed between your torsos, down to the waistband of his blacks.
“Can I…?” You asked, watching his face for any signs of doubt. Echo swallowed thickly and nodded. “Yes.”
You palmed over his crotch, Echo’s head falling into your neck as he emitted a deep groan.
“You like that?” You whispered, rubbing his cock through the material, a wet spot forming as you handled him.
“Keep going, mesh’la.”
You tugged gently at his waistband, and he made no effort to stop you. He lifted his hips to help you pull down his blacks enough to free his cock, red and swollen, dripping and aching for relief. You took in the sight of it, hungry to taste him.
"You don't have to if you don't want to-" Echo started, seeing you staring, suddenly feeling vulnerable.
You gently ran your fingertips over his velvety head, and Echo let out a sound so lewd you almost came yourself, spreading his desire over his cock.
"You're beautiful, Echo." You muttered sweetly, seeing the flash of worry on his face disappear as you ghosted your fingers down his thick shaft.
“What do you want me to do?” You asked quietly, still caressing his cock.
“Can you-can you use your mouth?” Echo almost felt embarrassed for asking, but quickly forgot as you eagerly left his lap and kneeled between his legs.
You looked up at him, smiling. Echo felt some relief in his chest, knowing his doubts from before were silly, now his only desire was to see your mouth around his cock.
You gently licked up his shaft, relishing in how he tasted, wanting nothing more than to please him. You gave his cock the same attention you did his neck, soft kisses and nips up and down his length.
Echo instinctually bucked his hips, his one hand coming to grasp the back of your head. “K-Kriff…mesh’la…” He groaned, his eyes flying open at the sensation. You smiled to yourself, taking his sensitive tip between your lips and suckling as you stroked his shaft.
“I’m not going to-” Echo stuttered, your mouth warm on his cock, his ecstasy building.
You took him in your mouth as far as you could, not able to fit him completely. Echo’s delicious sounds were louder as you bobbed your head, swirling your tongue and letting out your own moans as you hollowed out your cheeks.
Your free hand was rubbing and squeezing his thigh right above where his cybernetics started, feeling his muscles spasm as pleasure flooded his senses.
“I’m going to-where do you want me to…?” Echo’s voice was hoarse, desperate as he looked down at you. You didn’t stop your pace or release his cock, giving him your answer.
You squeezed his length, taking his cock as far as you could in your mouth. With a few more bobs of your head, Echo gripped the back of your skull, careful not to hurt you as he came, spurting his hot release down your throat, your name a long, deep moan as you eagerly sucked him dry.
You release him with a pop, looking up at him from between his legs. Echo’s face was flushed and sweaty, his eyes wide.
It was a wonderful sight.
“How was that…?” You asked, rising from your knees as Echo pulled up his pants. Echo cradled your head with his hands and kissed you deeply, tasting himself on your tongue.
“Incredible. Thank you.” Echo muttered against your lips. “May I repay you, mesh’la?” His voice dropped, his tone laced with a new confidence, something he hasn't felt since his ARC Trooper days.
Yes." You breathed as Echo carefully laid you down on his bunk. He was at your neck now, hotly licking and sucking, carefully tracing his scomp down your body and between your legs, rubbing gently at your arousal.
You keened, whimpering and arching against him, his boldness growing at your reactions.
"Did someone get turned on by that?" Echo repeated your words from earlier, his seductive question gravely in your ear as his scomp continued to press into you.
Characters: The Bad Batch - Crosshair. Not much of Wrecker, mainly just meeting them.
Relationship: All platonic
POV: Mixture between 2nd (you/yours) and 3rd (he/him)
Pronouns: He/him, but referred to as they/them when identity is unknown to the Batch
Species: Unspecified, should be pretty neutral
Content: Angst?? Panic?? Introductions?? Beginning of found family??
Warnings: Panic attacks, minor injury description, thinking about your death (non-suicide), anything that would be in TBB normally. Possibly some lore inaccuracies. Cringe
Word count: 4,777
Notes: If you’re willing, please let me know if you think 2nd person or 3rd person POV is better, or if the combo is readable.
You balanced yourself on the beam, steadily walking across with eyes darting back and forth for anything that seemed of use. Or, at least, a new pathway, or bridge, or anything that could lead you somewhere new, where there was the possibility of supplies. Or food, or some type of communication device, or, quite literally, anything. You weren’t picky, given the circumstances- couldn’t afford to be. But in truth, there was little to no chance of finding anything new. You’d scavenged through the ship countless times, and for the past…however long, there’d been nothing new. You hadn’t missed anything from the previous ventures, no small creature had drug in anything from outside or from a part with limited access, nothing fell to reveal a hidden treasure of some sort. Absolutely nothing. But yet, each day you once again went out with a glimmer of hope- or denial- that there would be something. Or maybe it was just a feeble attempt to focus your mind away from the events. Not that it worked.
As the beam came across a body of water, you peered down to the pool, loathing at what was reflecting back- raggy, dirty, and bloody. Kriffing Hell, I could be mistaken for a Tusken Raider with this shit-job of a covering. Your normal Padawan robes, as well as ones from your Master, had been torn into several chunks, and wrapped around different limbs, as well as pieces of fabric from any corpses you’d stumble upon. Layered on top of those was a poncho-cloak, barely holding on by a thread. An oxygen mask hung limply around your neck, and was covered with a fine coating of dirt and grime, with splattered blood on top. Bandages, cloth, and even animal pelts wound loosely around your head, leaving only small holes and strips for the mouth, nose, and eyes. Your waist was adorned with a make-shift gear belt, holding a multitude of different bones- sharpened and shaped to become tools and methods of protection. Your Lightsaber bumped lightly with each step, an eternal reminder to what happened- and as many bad thoughts as it brought, it would be an absolutely idiotic move to ditch the weapon. Not wanting to look any longer, you pulled back your head and took a deep breath, continuing on.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Rex led the squad of modified clones through the dirty, deserted and desolate hallways, shining a light so nobody fell to their demise. The group talked about the war, inhibitor chips, and the like until they came across a large canyon, so to speak. Rex, Omega, Tech, Hunter, and Echo all shimmied their way across, leaving Wrecker to go last. “You can do it! Just keep your eyes on the table,” Omega yelled encouragingly. With a few grunts and a shake of his head, Wrecker began climbing the cable upside down. Unfortunately, but not surprisingly, it couldn’t hold his weight, plummeting him down to the murky water.
The collective panic from all six clones shot out an incredibly large Force ‘wave’ to the padawan, of which felt as though he was being hit by a speeder bike head-on and then ricocheted into a Bantha. The shock of realizing that someone- scratch that, multiple someones- were here, on the ship with him, at this exact moment was more than enough to cause (Y/N) to stumble backwards from where he was standing and trip over some debris, falling flat on his ass. Once (Y/N) could gather that he and the strangers had a decent amount of space in between them, his breathing calmed- but not enough to be normal.
(Y/N) carefully got up, watching his foot placement, before turning to where he had been sleeping and recouping for the past few months. His legs felt both stiff and shaky, his vision was blurry, and his breathing was ragged. Once (Y/N) was finally in the small space that contained his very few belongings, he fell to the floor, backed into the wall, and curled up into a tiny, and rather pathetic, ball. People were here. (Y/N) didn’t know if they were good, or bad- or if they weren't much of either. Didn’t know their motives, didn’t know anything. When (Y/N) had prayed to the Force to find new things, this is not what he meant. At all.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Soon enough, and with several general or head-based injuries, all four men had their inhibitor chips removed. Omega and Hunter were walking around, exploring this and that and whatnot. Mainly because Omega would have done so anyway, but she most definitely needs supervision on the death-trap that is so humbly called a ship. Unfortunately for you, the pair was getting awfully close to his “hide-out.” Even worse, it seemed Hunter was aware of that as well.
“Omega…I think there’s someone here with us. Stay close,” he whispered, pulling out his blaster. Your breathing grew faster and more shaggy, and your vision clouded. What could I do? They’re in front of the only exit, and I haven't fought a person, or even touched my lightsaber in Force knows how long! Considering the only way out, other than direct confrontation, seemed to be a 100+ foot drop- the choice was more or less clear. You shakily stood up, grabbed the lightsaber which had been doing nothing else than collecting dust (and bad memories), and began to sprint as fast as possible, shoulder aimed at the door. Dank Farrik, please- don’t let me die like this.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Hunter jumped back, quickly grabbing Omega’s arm and pulling her out of the way with him. And lucky he did, otherwise she may have been crushed by the metal plate that went flying as the cloaked figure stumbled and bolted. Immediately, Hunter reached up to his comm and reported, “There’s somebody else on the ship! His motive is unclear- just blasted through a door and ran- looks like he’s going for an escape.”
On the other end, Wrecker almost jumped out of his skin in excitement- “Finally! Some action!” Tech couldn’t help but roll his eyes at Wrecker’s interest in beating someone to hell and back. After some more information was passed through, Wrecker and Tech had an approximate idea of where they needed to head in order to intercept the stowaway. Since Hunter had said that the mystery person appeared to be running away, stealth was not an objective for the pair- running through loudly was acceptable.
(Y/N) was solely focused on getting out- not where the others could be. Which was a terrible mistake- if you’re running away from somebody, it’d generally be wise to know where they are. Tech could guess as much, and used it to his advantage. Although he hadn’t gotten a full map of the ship, based on Hunter’s location report, the mystery person’s motive, and the ship being heavily damaged, he could make a reasonable estimate as to where the person would be.
To no one’s surprise, Tech was absolutely correct. After instructing Wrecker where to go, they had each blocked the end of a hallway. Wrecker had cut in front and faced the mystery person head on, grinning as cracking his neck, while Tech had stealthily followed from a ways behind. By the time Tech caught up, the mystery person had already slammed to a stop and immediately turned around to exit the other end, but to no avail.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
You ran as fast as you could, and you really did try paying attention to your surroundings, but it was all utterly useless. The intruders had pinned you. One giant guy to the front, and one smart guy to the back. Brains and brawn. Your heart beat far too fast, feeling the thump thump in your head, being far too hot, and your vision was rapidly becoming smaller and more tunneled.
It didn’t help when the big guy spoke, and you realized they were clones. Odd clones, granted, but clones, who, as far as you knew, executed Order 66, executed your Master, friends, your entire sense of familiarity and comfort.
You weren’t prepared for this- you hadn’t trained in months, or even used your lightsaber. There was no means of escape, considering the second either of them saw you reach for a weapon, it would be over. Running would do you no good, and if they had followed Order 66, talking wouldn’t do any good either. It seemed you’d join the other jedi in whatever afterlife awaited.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The figure fell flat on their ass and scrambled half-way backwards and half-way to the nearest wall after hearing Wrecker’s voice- they were shaking, sweat drenching their clothes all the way through, and, all in all, resembling a caged animal who knew it was done for. A loud echo ran out as the figure roughly contacted the metal wall, and pulled their legs up, semi-resembling the fetal position, as their hands were still on the ground.
Wrecker and Tech slowly approached the figure, blasters balanced on their arms. Both took notice of the shaky and rapid breathing, the occasional twitching, and how the figure seemed to be ever-so-slightly rocking. This person was a very good actor, or nothing more than someone scared, who was in the very wrong place at the wrong time. They both assumed the latter.
As Tech walked forward, he used his scanner to find the general age and species of the subject, brows furrowing as results came forward. The figure was somewhere in between 15 and 18, was (chosen species), and, as more data was collected, Tech discovered that the figure was a Jedi. Or, at the very least, someone with a high midichlorian count. He stopped walking, lowered his blaster- not a lot, but just enough, and gestured to Wrecker to copy. Wrecker made a grunt in confusion, not understanding. Tech sighed and replied, “I do not believe they intend to harm us. If my data is correct, they are a teenager, and most likely a padawan. And it would seem they do not wish to engage through a fight, anyway. Put your weapons down.”
(Y/N)’s head darted back and forth between the two, confused- was he safe? They were clones- were they not going to execute Order 66, or at the very least, kill him as a simple intruder? Just then, a third clone appeared- one with half the helmet white, the other black, with a few more details and some large red stripes. He had a vibro-knife in one hand, extended outward with a curve, and his other hand, holding a blaster, rested on top of it. “Hunter, I do not think they are a threat- at least, at this moment. There has been no attempt to harm us as of yet, and they appear to be force sensitive, which would most certainly warrant an attempt to flee from a group of clones,” Tech informed. (Y/N) slowly reached his hand towards the lightsaber on his makeshift belt, but didn’t quite grab it- not yet. Hunter slowly put his weapons away and set down his helmet, a small hiss ringing out when he took it off.
He crouched just enough to seem smaller and slightly less intimidating, without looking like he was getting ready to spring up. He extended his hands, walking slowly towards (Y/N). “We’re not here to hurt you- we're not like the other clones– we’ve had our inhibitor chips removed. You’re safe,” he spoke slowly and clearly. Tech jumped in, “The inhibitor chips are what programmed the regs– the other clones– to execute Order 66. So we don’t want to hurt you.” Wrecker grunted something in agreement.
“Now, we have a functioning ship with us, and we can get you out of here- somewhere safe, or at least, more safe than here, okay? We have food, water, medical care, and we have a place to stay where the Empire won’t bother us. Let us help you.” By the time Hunter had finished his little speech, he was only a few feet away from (Y/N), crouching down, now eye-level with him. (Y/N)’s hand slowly came away from his saber. This felt safe- he could sense it, more or less. There wasn’t actually any danger, and the clone, who (Y/N) assumed was Hnuter, felt safe and honest– reminding him of the warmth and comfort the Jedi Temple, his fellow Padawans, his Master, all brought him.
(Y/N) tried to say something, but his voice caught and cracked horribly- a mixture of the panic, and having not talked to anyone in months. He felt his eyes water behind the terribly dirty rags, which stung more than it should have. “Let's start by getting those rags off you, okay? Tech, bring over some bacta-spray and clean bandages,” Hunter instructed. Tech did as he was told, fishing out some spray and bandages from one of his several pouches that lined his waist.
Tech passed the supplies to Hunter, who indicated for him and Wrecker to go report to the rest what was happening. He directed his attention back to (Y/N), calmly asking, “I’m gonna take off your face wrappings, alright?” (Y/N) mumbling what Hunter assumed was an ‘okay,’ and felt his body go heavy and almost limp. Hunter reached up, tenderly brushing against the Padawan’s face, swiftly untying the bounds of cloth. He quickly used his other hand to bring the rest of it down, now draped around (Y/N)’s neck. His face was dirty, caked in dirt, grime, and what appeared to be blood. The mixture of paste, so to speak, was cracked and chipping, looking like a desert’s mud-crack.
Whether or not he meant to, Hunter grimaced at the sorry state of the Padawan. He took his gloved hands to try and brush and scrape off the majority of the paste off, which was primarily successful. After the layer of muck was removed, Hunter found one long gash, following the curvature of (Y/N)’s jawline, from just below the eye to just above his mouth. It was inflamed and oozing, and was most certainly going to need stitches. He held up the bacta-spray, and lightly spritzed it onto the wound. A sharp hiss sounded out from (Y/N), who was now squinting his eyes. Hunter mumbled some sort of apology before taking out the bandage and delicately, yet firmly at the same time, placed it on the gash.
“Are there any more major injuries we should worry about? We can take care of the smaller ones on the ship, but still. Better safe than sorry.” (Y/N) shook his head no. Hunter slowly stood up, and extended a hand, but (Y/N) just seemed to stare at it. Slowly, though, the Padawan extended his own hand out, flinching and hesitating once his arm was half-way extended. After a few seconds, though, he fully reached out and tightly grabbed the man’s hand. Using the wall behind him, (Y/N) pushed himself up, legs shaky. As soon as he was steady, (Y/N) ripped his hand away, bringing it close and pinning it tightly against his own chest.
Hunter commed Tech, instructing him to get everyone on-board the Marauder, and to try and use any spare pieces of clothing or blanket to form some type of clean cover that would fit the Padawan. After what seemed to last forever, Hunter broke the silence- “So, what's' your name, kid?”
“(Y/N)...” he mumbled, quiet enough that only Hunter’s enhanced ears could make it out clearly. The pair continued their walk through the broken up ship, eventually coming up to the ramp that led out to the Marauder. (Y/N) brought his arm to his eyes, squinting at the sun- being far too bright, seeing as he hadn’t gone out of the ship in Maker knows how long. Hunter took notice and briefly stopped, turning his head back to the teenager.
“You alright? I’m sure I have something if you want to block out the sun for the walk,” he gently offered. (Y/N) silently shook his head no, while slowly taking his arm down, bringing it back down to his chest, head and eyes solidly trained on the ground. Hunter stared for a few seconds more, just to be sure, before continuing on towards the Marauder.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Your head was woozy, your heart beating out of your chest, and you were simultaneously shaking, yet felt numb. All in all, it felt terrible. And perhaps even worse, you knew there was no real reason to feel this way. You were finally safe. And there was no possible way that the clones would turn and execute you. They would have done so already, without a doubt! Why would anyone go against direct orders, and pure convenience, just to make someone suffer more? That would be beyond inadequate. And it just made you feel terrible for not trusting them, or at the very least, for being suspicious of them. And now your head hurt more than before.
Finally, after what seemed like forever, but was no more than a five minute walk, the pair came up on the Havoc Marauder, in all its battle worn glory. Echo was leaning on the frame to the entry ramp, draping a clean, albeit worn and torn, wool poncho over his scomp. From the time Echo had spent with them, he gathered that the Jedi seemed to really like their ponchos.
As you and Hunter finally came up to the ramp, you froze. Your heart got significantly louder, palms sweater, which, by the way, was never pleasant under the dirty rags, and your eyes began darting around. There was only one way out, it seemed. If the group did have ill intent, you’d be done for as soon as you set a single toe in the ship. That was not a comforting thought. Hunter could hear your heartbeat and smell your sweat (or rather, the reaction it has with your skin) from a mile away.
Alerted by this change in demeanor, he turned back to look at you- who was completely frozen stiff, eyes wide, mouth slightly agape and pulled downwards. He may have been prepared for any mission the Republic gave him, but there certainly wasn’t any briefing on traumatized teenagers- let alone force sensitive teens. Kriff, he barely knew how to socialize with the Regs, and it was a miracle he could bond as much as he did with Omega.
Echo, even with his lack of enhanced senses, could easily see Hunter’s predicament. “How about you get the rest of the squad together, keep it calm for the kid. I’ll go take care of this.” Hunter silently nodded in thanks, brushing past his brother to head inside and start giving orders. That he was good at, no matter the topic.
Echo slowly, but not too slowly, as that would seem like a predator circling its prey, walked down the ramp and stood just in arm’s reach of the Padawan. You seemed to stare at each other for an eternity before he slowly handed you the poncho. “Here… seems you Jedi like ponchos, and we had one lying about. Hope it works. Got some more fabrics up on the ship, if you need any. And better med-kits, stuff to find infections or fevers. In case.” He spoke both in a calm and precise manner, and continued on, “Name’s Echo, by the way. Yours? If you don’t mind, anyway.”
You didn’t respond for a few more seconds, taking it all in. Finally, you mustered up a small response, “(Y/N)... and thank you.” Echo smiled lightly, extending the poncho out a bit further. Quickly, you threw off the old poncho, which wouldn't have lasted another week, and put on the fresh new one. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up, at least around the arms and face, yeah? We’ll be on another planet soon, and then you can get some proper fitting clothes.”
Echo turned and walked back up the ramp, making sure he could hear your footsteps following him. A few steps after you had gotten in, and the ramp seemed to slam shut. Realstickly, it was probably shutting for a while, but you hadn’t noticed it until it registered that there was no way out now. And everything seemed so tight. Sure, you had just been in a wrecked ship for Maker knows how long, but it was a big one. Now, you were stuck on a much smaller ship, with however many clones. Before the claustrophobia and feeling of complete despair could kick in, a small blond girl tugged at your burnt, calloused, and wrapped up hands, attempting to pull you somewhere. Of course, given your larger mass, as well as training, you didn’t budge, not one bit. You stared down at the young girl, eyes wide, yet blank. To say it disturbed her would be an understatement.
“Omega! I’m Omega, and this is Lula- Wrecker’s tooka doll!” she exclaimed, bringing your attention to a large stuffed…rabbit? Or… loth cat? It was hard to say. It had a black body, with red sock paws, similar to the red tips on its ears. The tooka doll sported some pattern of white, clearly resembling a face, with two red dots for eyes. Distracted by the stuffed creature, she could successfully pull you, where she then disposed of you in someone's bunk. She all but slammed Lula into your chest before running off, what, or who she was looking for, a complete mystery.
She came back with a collection of blankets, pillows, and snacks, and most certainly more than she could carry. Immediately, Omega got to work, bundling you like a baby in a blizzard. You were too stunned to do anything, really. What could you do, anyway? After about two or so minutes of her layering, she paused, and frowned. “How are you going to eat if your hands and arms are covered! Agh!”
She quickly began undoing her work, until your arms could be brought out, and then resumed the stacking of blankets. All you could do was blink repeatedly, ever confused. After another five or so minutes, she smiled triumphantly at her work. “Perfect! Here, have some mantell mix!” she said as she shoved a fist full of some clunky substance into your palm. Looking down at it, mouth watering, you slowly reached down and plucked one of the misshapen balls, and popped it into your mouth. And by the Maker, was it delicious. Your eyes widened, and without a second thought, your hand flew to your mouth, sending the entire pile of mantell mix down your throat. After eating random rodents, insects, and food that was quite possibly expired from the ship, this mantell mix was a blessing to your senses.
As you continued chewing and swallowing the treat, you leaned back against the hard wall of the ship, a quiet, content sigh escaping. While it certainly wasn’t the most comfortable, it was ten thousand times better than anywhere you had slept on the Venator. Lula was still resting across your chest, and Omega smiled proudly at your comfort before running off again. Although it was muffled, you could hear her talking to one of the clones, before grabbing something and running back towards you.
“I was training with Nala Se and the medical equipment at the Kaminoan facilities, so I can fix you up! Now, where does it hurt the most?” She was a bit too excited about her ‘patient’ needing help, you thought. It was cute, though. The younglings and other Padawan at the Jedi Temple were like that, too– always eager to be the first to help, even in situations where most would never be joyous. You supposed there wouldn’t be any harm in humoring the girl, even if she was, by all means, a possible threat, with everyone else on the ship. I mean, if they did plan to harm or kill you, there’d be no chance of survival, so you might as well play along with the little girl. Either your last moments wouldn’t be too bad, or you’d start bonding with your saviors. Either version was a win, in one way or another.
Cocking one eyebrow, you raised a question– “How are you supposed to take care of me if I can’t move under all these layers? That seems rather counter-productive, no?” Her face molded into one of thought and consideration, nodding her head in agreement. Before you could register her next move, she essentially lunged, quickly stripping you of the layers for the second time within the hour. Now, the blankets all strewn around you resembled a porg’s nest, without the sticks and twigs, anyway. Omega yanked your arm forward, a tad too eager, considering you should always be gentle with your patients. Your eyes squinted, brows furrowed in a smidge of pain- Omega immediately noticed, and gave you a sheepish smile before apologizing and bringing it towards her more gently.
She carefully wrapped the bandages off of your arm, eyes widening at the…state of it. Burn spots, blisters, scratches, bruises, and more littered the entirety of it, looking like it came out of a horror holo-film. You stared at it rather intensely. You had no clue it was this bad. I mean, it hurt, obviously- you were in a crashed ship and had no proper care for however long. Of course it was going to hurt. But seeing it, that was still a shock.
“Umm… I should probably get Tech. I’m not this good, I don’t think…” Omega whispered, frowning. She scurried off, but you just kept staring. How could you have let it get this bad? Was all the training useless? Or was it you?
Tech, the one with goggles and a plethora of gear, came over, holding what Omega had given him, and more. His armor was still on, but the helmet had been discarded. He bent down on one knee, and scanned over your body, checking for any and all injuries. And, oh boy, did he have his work cut out for him. Tech carefully took your arm in his gloved hands, and stared for a little bit before spraying a lot of bacta on. You lurched forward, bringing your other hand to your side, in a feeble attempt to focus the pain elsewhere. Your brows scrunched, and cheeks pulled down, biting your tongue in every attempt to not bother him any more.
“Let me know when it stops stinging. Most of the bacteria should be gone, then. We’ll still clean it out routinely, as they’ve been untreated for so long,” he spoke precisely. After what felt like eternity, he was finally finished applying the spray. “Hold your arm out. Make it as level and steady as you can,” Tech instructed. Fingertips barely brushing your skin, he brought the clean cloth around, wrap after wrap, from your palm to your elbow. He took some smaller bandages and wrapped them around each of your fingers, leaving your entire arm covered.
You lifted up your other arm, and you both repeated the process. Bacta, wrap, done. He gestured at your legs, silently asking to both take off your shoes and life up your pants, to at least the knee. There was a much larger and deeper gash on your left shin, courtesy of a falling metal plate as you finally managed to get some sleep. “That…will need stitches. Wait here.” Not like you were going anywhere.
After what felt like hours upon hours, everything that was physically wrong with you had been fixed- or, at the very least, temporarily fixed. Obviously, there weren't the best medical supplies on a smaller ship that had long left the army, and thus left behind the blessing that was gift-wrapped med-kits. Finally, he gave you some type of liquid- not a lot, just a shot. He could see the quizzical look on your face, and quickly explained– “It’ll help you go to sleep, for quite a while, and it’ll help reduce the pain. By the time you wake up, we should be at Orl Mantell, where we’ve been staying. Or, at least, close to it.”
In a fraction of a heartbeat, you downed the small glass and handed it back to Tech. He ran one more scan on you, just to be sure, before getting up and heading to the cock-pit with his brothers and little older sister. Your heart slowed, and your eyelids grew heavy. That serum worked fast. Half involuntarily, you fell face first onto the bed and drifted into the best sleep you’d had in countless rotations.
