Warnings: Suggestive but that's about it.
A/N: So...I know these aren't requests butttt I just am a greedy person who loves to treat myself so what can I say? Requests are still coming, I'm just stumped on a few so please bear with me.
Hunter
Hunter can sense your body heat before you even wrap your arms around him, and he chuckles lightly as you squeeze him tightly, breasts pressing into his back. "What are you up to?" He asks, jolting as your hands slip past the hem of his shirt, wandering along his stomach and sliding up towards his chest teasingly. He can feel the vibrations of your laughter in the expanse of his shoulder, and he's about to turn around when you abruptly pull away, patting him lightly on the ass and leaving the scene as quickly as you came.
Wrecker
Your arms just barely wrap around Wreckers waist, and he giggles softly as you squeeze him tightly from behind. He pats your hands, curiously raising a brow as he looks at you over his shoulder. "Its cute when you do that, baby...but what exactly are you doing?" You answer him by slipping your fingers in his waistband, fingers brushing against the soft hairs of his happy trail as you playfully tease him just right above where he's most sensitive. He grunts before grabbing your hands and twirling you around, pulling you into his chest as he settles his hands against your ass and squeezes tightly.
Tech
Tech leans back in his pilot seat as your arms wrap around his shoulders, soft lips pressing into his cheek in what is a sweet and completely innocent manner. He types a few notes on his data pad from the last mission, barely noticing the way your hands rub his shoulders before drifting lower towards his chest. Its only when your palms encompass his chest, softly squeezing and groping the flesh there, that he finally sets his data pad on his knee and turns to look at you. "Are you...massaging my pectoralis major?" "Man boobs, Tech." "Uh, no. That is incorrect."
Crosshair
Its nothing new to Crosshair when he feels your hands slide up and down the sides of his waist, before curling around his front and settling on his stomach. He's wiping down his rifle, breathing in sync with yours as you press your chest up against his backside, nose nuzzling into the curve of his spine needily. His lips quirk up, thinking he has you beat as your continue your desperate ministrations for his attention, until he feels a sharp nip through his blacks and he yelps, almost dropping his rifle. "What the fuck--did you just bite me?" He whips around, but you detach yourself from him quickly, darting down the Marauder as the echoes of your laughter follow.
Echo
Echo is slowly awoken by the feeling of smooth hands cascading up his shirt, fingers pressing into his abdomen, poking and prodding at his pale, warm skin. He can feel your nose nuzzling further into the crook of his neck, a soft exhale tickling his ear as you continue your tour around his stomach, oblivious to the fact that he's awake. And he would've let you continue, if your fingers didn't brush against his nipples and he was forced to grip your wrists. "I know what you're trying to do," he says, voice raspy and deep. "...just a pinch?" "No."
Fair warning: these are maybe slightly long? Idk but I had a lot of fun writing them. Warnings for: hurt/comfort, mention of foreplay (no sex). Anyway, enjoy my pookies 💕. Y/N is used but it’s as gender neutral as possible with the exception of Crosshair calling the reader ‘doll’.
You and Echo had been together a handful of months now. With him working away from Pabu, off with Rex, it made your relationship a little (a lot) long distance, but you both made it work. Echo always said it was down to you both being stubborn bantha’s. Whenever he visited Pabu, he’d stay at your cottage for a few weeks before going off with Rex and the Rebellion again. It was good for the both of you. Echo enjoyed having something to come home to, and you always felt immensely proud watching him fight for his brothers. Besides, you trusted him to return home.
It didn’t mean it didn’t suck whenever he left though.
He’d been gone for a month. It wasn’t the longest time he’d been away, but Rex had contacted you a couple days ago that Echo had been injured and was returning home early to rest. Captain’s orders, Rex had stated firmly. When the ship flew in, you stood a nervous bundle at the landing site, anxious to find what state Echo would be in. He’d always been resilient, but you knew he was also reckless. Having seen him jump and roll off a rooftop once, you knew the man had absolutely no sense of self preservation. When the ship doors opened, Rex walked out with Echo leaning on his side. He had a bandage around his shoulder, and his scomp arm was missing.
“Echo! What the hell-“ you began, running to him and wrapping your arms around his middle.
Rex shifted Echo’s weight onto you, the latter smiling cheekily. “It was just a little gunshot”
“Just a little- you got shot?”
“Nothin’ I can’t handle, mesh’la”
Rex interjected. “Actually it damaged his port behind his shoulder blade. He was unconscious for two days. Make sure he rests, [Y/N].”
You nodded. Satisfied Echo was being taken care of, Rex returned to his ship. You didn’t take it personally, you knew Rex was giving you and Echo time alone. The pair of you watched the ship fly off.
Echo tilted his head to you. “I’m fine. Really. Howzer carried me back to base, the guys all made sure I was alright.”
“But you’re not alright now. Come on, let’s get you home to rest. Where’s your scomp arm?” You asked, beginning the trek down to your cottage.
“In my bag. Got damaged, I need Tech to fix it up.”
You hummed, knowing Echo must’ve really damaged it if he was turning to Tech. It wasn’t that he didn’t love or trust his little brother, but Tech often got overexcited and would insist on adding all sorts of fancy gadgets that Echo didn’t understand nor want.
Echo stopped you both by the stair railing. “Wait.”
“Yeah?”
“I, uh…” he scratched the back of his head, suddenly looking a bit vulnerable. “I… I missed you.”
Your eyes softened. “Echo… I-“
Your sentence broke off with his lips landing on yours. It wasn’t the most gentle kiss; Echo’s lips were chapped and he had pressed himself to you so hastily that your noses bumped together, but you’d never kissed him before so really, it felt perfect. Your hand smoothed down his shoulder, tugging him closer as you both slowed the kiss down, transforming it into something much more tender. Parting for a moment to breathe, you pressed your forehead to Echo’s. Sharing another quick kiss, this time, he placed his hand on your hip. His thumb smoothed over your hip bone.
“Mhm… I missed you too.” You whispered against his lips.
Echo smiled sheepishly, as if he was realising he’d just kissed you for the first time. He hadn’t been intimate- kisses included- since before his incident at The Citadel. Noticing his rare embarrassment, you smiled and resumed walking him back home. Hopefully, you thought, it would be the first kiss of many.
Tech had been researching various variables and studies regarding relationships. He’d never been in one before, his interests always having laid elsewhere. Then you had come along and with you, you’d brought a shift into his life. He’d begun seeking you out, constantly analysing his own emotional responses to your presence. When you’d started dating, his ears had turned pink when he’d accepted your hand in his. It was all frightfully new but oh so wonderful.
His datapad was the only light in the room. The sun had long since set outside, and Tech was still curled up on the living room sofa, wide awake. His mind whirred with thoughts of you. The two of you hadn’t kissed yet. You’d told Tech that you’d leave it up to him to initiate it so he could set the pace, which he was incredibly grateful for but he couldn’t deny, it made him slightly anxious. He’d never kissed anyone before. What was the optimal angle to approach? Did he need to tell you he was going for it? What if you both had bad breath?
Tech sighed, turning his datapad off and burying his face in the couch cushions to muffle his groan of frustration. He didn’t like not understanding things. Logically, he knew his understanding would grow with time and experience, but how was that supposed to help him now, he huffed. It didn’t help that he was aware you had experience. You’d told him as much, laying your metaphorical cards out on the table so he knew your comfort levels. What if you thought he was bad, or worse, what if you never wanted to kiss him again? He rolled onto his back on the couch, staring at the ceiling in the dark. Somewhere upstairs, Wrecker snored. A beat of silence passed, Tech’s finger’s tapping on his abdomen repetitively.
It suddenly occurred to him, he could just ask you. Satisfied he had a semblance of a plan, Tech drifted off to sleep on the couch, dreaming of you in his arms.
The next day, at your cottage, Tech had sat you down in the kitchen. He’d told you of his concerns and you’d smiled, gently cupping his cheek.
“Tech, it’s not that big of a deal.”
He’d frowned. “It is to me.”
“I know, mesh’la… want to try now?”
“Now?” His ears turned pink, his eyes widening behind his goggles.
You chuckled, not unkindly, though slightly amused. “Yeah, now. Why not?”
“Well, I- um- okay. How should I… my hands?”
Tech wasnt rarely speechless, nor did he struggle with his words. His stuttering made your heart melt slightly. You guided his hands to your hips, watching with a smile as he settled them there.
“The next step of this process is?” Tech murmured, realising you were both instinctively leaning towards one another.
You lifted his giggles off, placing them on the table. “It’s easier to kiss without them.”
“I assume they’d create nothing short of a barrier between us, lowering both of our comfort levels.”
“Precisely. Now just lean closer and close your eyes.”
Tech did ask you asked. To his shock, he found your face easily, even with his eyes shut. Your lips were pleasant against his, soft and warm. He made a small sound at the back of his throat, pushing himself closer to you as he realised how much he was enjoying this. Tech quickly found his footing. His hands slid up to your back, pulling you even closer. A startled squeak escaped you as he bit your lip playfully, your lips parting. He pushed his tongue in, mirroring what he’d studied in his research.
When you whined quietly and pulled away, he smiled against your lips. “I believe that was satisfactory.”
“Indeed. But maybe we should try again? Just to make sure.”
His smile growing, Tech pulled you closer again. He wasn’t sure what he’d been so worried about. Kissing you was easy.
Your heart was hammering in your chest. You knew Hunter could hear it, but thankfully he wasn’t commenting on it. He also hadn’t said a word about the way he could see your hands trembling in your lap either, though his eyes drew to them with worry. He wasn’t sure what you were so nervous about.
Hunter eventually cleared his throat, his concern biting at him. “[Y/N], what is it?”
“What?”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” You smiled, hoping it was enough to convince him to drop the subject.
Hunter frowned slightly, not believing you at all, but he let it slide nonetheless. His attention drew back to the sunset you were both watching, hoping that you’d open up soon. The pair of you had been at the beach all day, Omega having dragged you both down for a ‘family day’. Truthfully, it had felt more like a family day than you’d anticipated. She’d roped you into making sandcastles with her, and you’d both played tricks on Hunter in the ocean water, playfully tripping him up. He’d run after you both, scooping you into his arms. Omega was back home now, seeing as the hour was late and she needed to go to bed, leaving you and Hunter sitting on the pier of the docks together.
Birds were quietly squawking, somewhere off in the distance, and the ships of Pabu’s docks had all been moored into their places. Not many folk were still at the beach. It was peaceful, and your feet rhythmically moved through the water where your legs dangled off the pier, creating a small sloshing sound. Hunter had wrapped his jacket around you a while ago, and the scent of him enveloped you like a warm hug.
You glanced to him again, opening your mouth to speak. Feeling a bit like an idiot, you shut your mouth again and looked away. Damn your words failing you. For the moment, you wished for nothing more than for Hunter to just take the initiative and kiss you. You were too nervous to do it yourself.
The both of you began talking simultaneously.
“Hunter, I-“
“[Y/N]-“
You chuckled sheepishly. “You first.”
“Right…” he scratched the back of his neck, turning to face you. “I’m not an idiot. I can see something’s on your mind, and I thought we didn’t keep secrets from each other in this relationship.”
“…yeah I know. I just… truthfully, I wanna um, kiss you, but I’m just feeling a bit shy about it.”
You’d spoken with your gaze at the ocean instead of your boyfriend, and so you missed his reaction to your words. Hunter’s eyebrows twitched upwards, his lips beginning to curl into a smile.
“Why didn’t you just say so?”
“I wasn’t sure if you were ‘there’ yet. I mean, we’ve been dating for a few weeks, and I dunno if there’s a difference between clone and human dating. I don’t often rush into stuff but I dunno what it’s like for you, and I didn’t-“
Hunter interrupted your rambling, his hands cupping your face and kissing you. His fingers threaded your hair back from around your eyes where it had fallen. It was tender, more so than you’d even dreamed, and you found yourself eagerly kissing him in return. Your hand went to his elbow to simply feel him, to pull him closer. When you parted, his forehead rested against yours.
“Better?”
“Yeah.”
Crosshair was driving you crazy. It was as if he was doing it on purpose, and you were beginning to suspect he was. Since the pair of you had begun dating, you’d had a playful little cat and mouse vibe between you, always teasing who would ‘win’ your little competitions. It was usually games such as who would get to the fresher first after missions, making the first pot of caf in the mornings, and one time you even made a little game of who could steal Hunter’s bandana and not get caught. Crosshair had won that one. Today, his tongue had been moving his toothpick between his lips agonisingly slow.
He’d seen you staring at his lips before. His eyes caught everything, especially the way your pupils would expand in interest and arousal whenever he did something particularly pleasing. He was sitting in the cockpit of The Marauder, staring intently at you as he twirled the little wooden stick.
“I know what you’re doing. It won’t work.” You mumbled, trying not to look up from where you were polishing your armour. Again. You’d lost track of how many times your head had shot up to look at him in the last hour alone.
“Are you sure, doll?”
“Incredibly.”
“Perhaps we need to get your head checked then. Have you hit it lately?”
“Ha. Ha. I’m perfectly sound of mind, you know.”
Crosshair hummed and you heard him stand. His shoes appeared in his view, and you couldn’t help but look up at him. Your eyes trailed sinfully up his legs to his torso, where his arms were crossed. He had an eyebrow raised and wore a smirk, that damn toothpick still between his lips. Oh, how you yearned to tear it away from him and replace it with your lips, to kiss him and taste him and feel him. As if he could read your thoughts, he leaned down to your face.
“Hey.” He mumbled, sounding much too cocky for his own good.
You huffed. “Cross, I’m busy.”
“Very busy staring at me, apparently.”
You blushed and turned your attention back to your armour in your lap. You began polishing it again. This was your move for this game of cat and mouse. You knew Crosshair had a bit of a thing for watching you polish your armour. You supposed it was something to do with being independent, but it was likely more to do with the polish grease you always somehow smeared on your arms or chest. Never intentionally, mind you, but never unwelcome.
He hummed, sitting in front of you. “You’ve been polishing that spot for the last half hour. Must be done by now.”
You blinked. Had it really been half an hour?
“You seem pretty… what’s the word?” He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “Distracted.”
“Well if you didn’t keep interrupting me, maybe I’d be done by now.” You looked up at him, finally putting your armour and polish aside. Mirroring his stance, you leant forward and smiled. “Did you want something, Cross, or are you just bothering me for the hell of it?”
“Just for the hell of it.”
At his drawling mumble, you decided to turn the tables and pull your last card to win this little game you were playing. Swiftly, you plucked the toothpick from between his lips and tucked it into your own mouth. You kept your eyes on his as you dragged your tongue over where his had been on the wooden stick. Crosshair’s heart flipped at the action, his eyes catching every slight movement your tongue made.
Mumbling a mando’an swear word you didnt understand, Crosshair suddenly pulled the toothpick from your mouth and smashed his lips to yours. The force of it sent you onto your back, onto the crate you were sitting on, which was thankfully quite large. Crosshair straddled above you, kissing you with a passion of a thousand suns. He pinned your wrists above your head and pushed his tongue between your lips, tasting your own with his. You both groaned simultaneously.
“Fuck… Cross… what was that?” You mumbled when you parted, a string of saliva connecting you both. He leant forward and caught the combined saliva on his tongue.
“A kiss, stupid.”
You breathlessly laughed. “Felt more like foreplay.”
He chuckled, moving his lips to your neck. “Doll, we haven’t even started.”
He’d been looking forward to this all week. After a long arduous week of working daily at the docks- which Wrecker didnt mind, but he much preferred being with you- the weekend was finally here! Your plans together were to not waste a single second. For the moment, Wrecker was hastily making his way across the island to your cottage. He’d been hauling crates all day, and all he yearned was to hold you in his arms. He hadnt even gone home to change clothes, he was so excited. When you opened the front door, he scooped you into a big hug, lifting you off the ground.
“Wreck!” You giggled. “Put me down!”
“Sorry mesh’la, ‘m just so excited. It’s finally the weekend. Uhh, sorta.”
You beamed, “I’m excited too. Dinner’s in the oven, and I was thinking we could watch a movie tonight?”
“That sounds perfect.”
Your afternoon from there was set. By the time of the evening, the pair of you had gotten cozy on the sofa with full bellies and your pyjamas on. Night was beginning to fall, so you began your bedtime routine, locking the doors and turning the lights off. Wrecker playfully chased you upstairs and lifted you up at the top of them, carrying you to your room.
Your great, hunkering boyfriend sat on your bed and watched you with nothing short of love in his eyes as you went around your room, doing your last minute tasks.
“What?”
“Nothin’.”
You smiled, turning the light off so the only light in the room was the bedside lamp. It was a warm lowlight, and with it, a sudden comfortable intimacy broke out. Wrecker hadn’t ever spent the night at yours before. You’d slept at his place once, when you’d been too hungover to go home, and collapsed on the sofa snoring. Wrecker smiled and gestured for you to come closer.
The low lamplight illuminated his face in just the right way, making all his curves and lines appear softer. Sharing his smile, you wrapped your arms around him.
“What is it, baby?”
Wordlessly, he tilted your chin down to his and kissed you. At first you were startled, but that quickly faded into affection. Wrecker’s lips were soft. Cupping the back of his neck, you followed his lead and parted your lips with him. The two of you paused for a brief moment to catch your breaths, only to kiss again, the lure of each other too sweet to resist.
“Mhm… we’ve never done that before.” You mumbled under your breath against his lips.
Wrecker froze.
“Wreck? You good baby?”
“We’ve never done that before.”
“Uh… yeah. What’s the matter?”
He started spiralling, rambling to you with wide eyes. “Did I rush you? Was that too much too soon? I’m sorry sugar, I wanted to do it for so long and you looked so sweet and ‘appy and I thought it would be alright, I probably should’ve asked-“
“Wreck! Hey.” You gently put your finger on his lips, effectively shushing him. Pressing a kiss between his eyebrows, you felt him relax marginally beneath you. “It was okay. It was more than okay. In fact, we can do it again if you want?”
Wrecker’s eyes lit up. “We can? Really?”
“Yeah. You can kiss me whenever you want, alright?”
He beamed and kissed you again. And again, and again, and again.
Summary: When cuddling with the Batch, you know you're in safe hands.
Warnings: None.
Hunter
Hunter prefers to be the big spoon whenever you cuddle. He’ll tuck his arm securely under yours, but always makes sure you have space to move. It’s not long before he’s kissing your shoulder blades or the top of your head, peppering his love wherever he can reach.
Chuckles had overtaken you both, an inside joke growing funnier as you added a quick quip into the mix that had Hunter almost wheezing with laughter. His chest shuddered with each amused chortle, the arm he locked around you tightening as he snuggled closer to you, the person who never failed to bring joy into his life. After the giggles subsided, he commented on how much he loved you, how your smile brightened his day, how your presence settled his soul, and how he would always cherish those moments with you. You felt the smile against your skin as he kissed between your shoulder blades and professed his unwavering love, turning to capture his lips with yours as you tenderly returned the sentiment.
Echo
Since the accident, Echo has to sleep on his back to lower the risk of his prosthetics getting snagged in the bedding. He tends to lie on his back and patiently waits for you to cuddle up to him in whichever position is comfortable. It is in these moments that he tends to talk a little more than usual. He may have been quiet all day, but once he is relaxed and has you close to him, his defences drop and he feels he can talk safely about his concerns and fears.
Fresh and clean from the refresher, you traipsed into your shared bedroom, grinning at Echo’s outstretched invitation from the bed. You flopped into his embrace the instant you clambered under the covers, nuzzling his chest and resting a hand between the ports. Your conversation started as it did every night, chatting about your day and exchanging humorous comments, but you sensed that Echo was worried. Your attention entirely on him and a universe of love in your eyes, you asked him if he was okay. He dodged the question at first, assuring you that he was just tired and a little overworked, but the way your eyebrows dipped hinted that you were not convinced. He opened up about an issue that had been bothering him, rambling at times and circling back to his concern. You listened attentively, assuring him when he apologised for complaining and promising that you would always be there to listen to whatever he needed to discuss. You were a team, and any problems you had, you found a solution together.
Wrecker
Wrecker lives for hugs and cuddles, and snuggling with the person he loves? Pure bliss. He is very aware of his own strength when he cuddles you, holding you firmly but conscious of not accidentally hurting you. Wrecker has mastered the art of the perfect hug and everybody goes to him when they need some comfort.
After a bad day, you arrived home wearied and dispirited. The taut knot in your throat strained as you desperately tried to withhold the tears, but you crumbled the moment you spotted Wrecker in his armchair, your sweetheart and your safety net. He bundled you into his arms as soon as the sobs started, comforting you with gentle caresses down your back as you spoke about what had upset you. At every uncertain turn, he encouraged you to take your time, rocking you ever so slightly as you nestled close to his chest and let out all of the hurt. Eventually, the tears eased, Wrecker’s sure and supportive embrace soothing your cries and bringing you a warm solace.
Crosshair
Crosshair will not hug or cuddle just anybody. To him, that kind of action requires a level of trust. Once he has that trust in you, he may allow occasional hugs. You are patient and kind with him, and over time the bond between you grows to the point where Crosshair’s favourite part of the day is when he has you in his arms. If you lie down on top of him, he will not be letting you go for a good while.
A noisy squawk from the birds outside alerted you to the flourishing morning, the dapples of sunlight sneaking in around the curtains welcoming you to a brand new day. Snuggled up on Crosshair’s chest, his arms encircling you and his heart singing a sweet, steady melody against your ear, the last thing you wanted to do was move. His chest rose abruptly and fell in a slow breath with the opening of his eyes. You peered up at him, a sleepy glow in your gaze and a smile brightening your features. He replied with a peaceful smile of his own and held you closer. You both agreed on five more minutes before getting up, but that was a promise the pair of you were fine not to keep.
Tech
When it comes to cuddles, Tech doesn’t have any particular preference. He will adapt depending on what you both need. On the occasions you want to be cuddled, he is happy to cuddle you as close as you like. If he needs some comfort, he loves snuggling into you while you brush your fingers through his hair and talk about a new book you might be reading or how your day was. Your voice and your touch bring a calm to his soul that nothing else can.
Tech had spoken for weeks about a new documentary on the evolution of space travel that he was keen to watch. You both decided to make a night out of it with blankets, comfy pillows, snacks, and your favourite drinks. As the show tackled the early stages of space flight and the rudimentary systems that saw the galaxy connected in a whole new way, you naturally gravitated towards each other until your legs were draped over Tech’s and he had you securely enclosed in his grasp. The documentary explored interesting insights and fascinating finds. All the while, Tech trailed his fingers up and down your leg in soothing lines, correcting the narrator at times and delighting in answering your questions.
in which Tech gets jealous of how you care for his brothers and admits that he’d like special treatment.
warnings: none (sfw), some smooches and injuries
a/n: something short and sweet for my first post on this blog pls be nice ily
“Alright, c’mon, big guy…” you murmur, guiding wrecker towards the med bay. He and Hunter had just returned from another one of cid’s errands, which, naturally, had involved blaster burns and damaged armor.
“Just a scratch,” he chuckles, while you lean closer to remove his chest plate and inspect the charred mark across his torso. You shake your head affectionately and turn to gather some supplies.
“Up,” you gesture, gently raising his muscular arms to roll his blacks out of the way. He smiles and watches as you begin to clean the wounded area.
Across the ship, Tech glances up from his datapad. His eyebrows furrow slightly behind his goggles as he watches the two of you interact so comfortably. His older brother always seemed to bring out a softer side of you. It was almost…irritating, how much you laughed around him.
His eyes narrowed further as you prepared a bacta patch and applied it to the burnt skin across Wrecker’s chest. The sight of your hands on him—so gentle—sent a sharp sting of jealousy through Tech. He clenched his datapad tighter and stayed quiet.
You whisper an apology every now and then when your fingers accidentally prod at his injury. Wrecker grunts softly, but never complains, instead attempting to distract himself with humor.
“You know, if ya keep babying me like this, I might just get used to it,” he grumbles.
You laugh. Again. Tech exhales sharply.
“Well, that’s what I’m here for, hm?” You affirm, smoothing over the patch. Wrecker wiggles his eyebrows and nods.
“Okay…there you go…” you mutter softly as you begin to bandage Wrecker’s wound, your arms circling him to fasten the fabric across his torso. You press even closer to reach around his large frame, and he doesn’t seem to mind.
“Thanks, doc,” he grins appreciatively, “I owe ya.”
He opens his arms for a hug, and as you’re about to lean in, Tech clears his throat. You look over your shoulder.
“Oh, hi,” you chuckle, noticing that he’d left his seat and was now only a few feet away. “What’s wrong?”
He was suddenly very aware of how stiff he sounded. He blinked a few times and watched wrecker shuffle back to his own bunk.
“…May you…check on my wounds as well?” He asks in his usual matter-of-fact cadence. There’s an uncharacteristic hesitance to his question, though, and you tilt your head. Tech hadn’t been out with the other two boys…and you’d made sure he was healthy after their last mission. You were fairly certain he had no ‘wounds,’ but you accept anyway.
“Oh…of course, hun. Come sit,” you smile.
You nod to the small bunk and he follows your instructions diligently. Although you don’t see it, his eyes widen for a split second when you call him ‘hun,’ a term of endearment the batch had only heard from you before.
He’d always been infatuated by your little affectionate habits; they were so unlike the cold, clinical care he’d received on Kamino as a child. When you’d first joined clone force 99, he’d immediately researched the psychological effects of your treatment style—breathing exercises and positive reinforcement and such. He’d questioned your methods, as he did with everyone, but…he couldn’t deny your results. You’d become a beacon of support for the entire batch, and for Tech, you were slowly becoming more than that.
He’d been visiting your med bay more often than what could be considered logical or reasonable. He would replay recordings on his datapad to ‘analyze mission files,’ but only the ones that included clips of your smiling face. He’d taken note of how you cared for Omega and his brothers as if they were your own family.
However, right now…he found himself looking for ways to direct your attention away from his brothers and towards him.
“Rope burn again?” You ask lightly.
He glances away as he remembers the time you’d witnessed him skid down a ledge without properly securing his grapple and insisted you check for injuries. He couldn’t refuse when you’d clutched his hands and pressed a cold compress to his palms. He clears his throat.
“…No. I have a bruise.”
You blink.
“A bruise?”
You’d seen Tech return from missions half dead. Why was he concerned about a bruise?
He nods, promptly removing his gloves and wrist gear. Sure enough, there was a yellowing mark on the inside of his forearm.
“Hm…” you gently cup his elbow with one hand and swipe your thumb over the contusion with the other. Not swollen, not hot to the touch. Seemed…normal.
At this point, the gears in your head were turning. Tech was easily the smartest member of the batch and his medical knowledge was not limited. He knew this bruise was relatively harmless.
He also knew you would inspect it anyway. He held out his arm to you so expectantly, almost eagerly, his brown eyes gazing up at you with a soft expression you’d seen before in children with scraped knees. It was impossible not to recognize, and you gave him a small, knowing smile.
He watches as you turn to retrieve a small tin of bacta-infused ointment. You wordlessly gather some of it on your fingertips and begin to lightly spread it over the discolored skin.
“Tech,” you begin, your voice quieter than before.
“…hm?” He glances up and adjusts his goggles.
“…if you want my attention, all you have to do is ask,” you murmur, one hand sliding down to hold his wrist.
He looks up from your hands and stares at you like you’d just thrown his datapad out of the airlock. Then, he swallows and glances sideways.
“…Wrecker does not ask for your attention.”
Your expression softens with realization and you give him another smile, your fingers leaving the faint bruise to cup his jaw.
“Wrecker doesn’t have an itemized list of ‘non-tactile comfort strategies,’” you comment, almost teasing. The tips of his ears redden slightly as your thumb strokes his chin, and for once, he’s silenced.
“I didn’t think you would like…any of that,” you continue to gently explain, “I’m sorry, sweetie…”
The pet name brings his gaze back up to yours, soft and swimming behind his goggles.
“I suppose I could have been more direct,” he murmurs. You huff a laugh, and his eyebrows curl up with something like admiration.
“Mhm. But…I know now,” you whisper, leaning closer. Your hand slides up to cradle his cheek and he turns into your palm, his own hands moving to rest against your hips like he couldn’t keep them still if he tried. It sends a flutter through your stomach and you give him an approving smile that morphs into a more playful expression as you let out a low murmur.
“I never took you for the jealous type…”
The corner of his lip twitches and his hands flex at your sides.
“Niether did I. But you…” he trails off, blinking as you tentatively reach up and slide his goggles to his forehead. His honey brown eyes stare up at you, now unobstructed.
“I’m special?” You prompt, your face gravitating closer to his.
“Illogical,” he corrects with a slow nod, glancing down to your lips.
You giggle once more before removing the distance and pressing your lips to his. The kiss is short—simple but meaningful. Your noses brush together when you pull away and it’s quiet for a moment.
“…Y/n?” he mutters.
“Hm?” you hum, your fingers carding through the hair at the nape of his neck.
The Bad Batch when you fall asleep against their shoulder
𝘈𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦: 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴:,)
𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝐵𝑎𝑑 𝐵𝑎𝑡𝑐ℎ 𝑥 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 (𝑆𝑒𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑒)
ʜᴜɴᴛᴇʀ:
Freezes for a moment when he felt you gently place your head against his shoulder, he knew you were exhausted after the mission but he just didn’t expect you to suddenly fall asleep like that it actually makes him feel warm inside though, you trusted him to let your guard down around him which to him meant that you felt safe around him too.
He sees Crosshair smirk at him but he quickly brushes it off he’ll make sure not to move around a lot so you can get plenty of rest.
He might actually close his eyes for a bit too the warmth your body radiated was comforting to him in a way and it helped calm down his senses after you wake up you quickly apologize to him but he tells he doesn’t mind it at all.
ᴄʀᴏssʜᴀɪʀ:
At first he wanted to shrug you off his shoulder but then he remembered you telling him you were having troubles sleeping at night at times you didn’t get into the details about why that was but he completely understood what you meant, at times he could stay awake for hours and would have to report for a mission the next day lacking sleep.
Wrecker sends him a smug look but Crosshair rolls his eyes and mouths “don’t be loud” to Wrecker he would quickly send glares to anyone who got too loud while you slept.
Crosshair felt weird though you being close to him felt somewhat comforting to him he didn’t know why it made him feel that way.
If you wake up you quickly apologize to Crosshair but he shrugs mumbling a “didn’t matter to me you looked tired anyways.” Doesn’t mind lending you his shoulder again if you need a quick nap.
ᴡʀᴇᴄᴋᴇʀ:
It doesn’t take you a long time before you fall asleep against Wrecker’s shoulder he’s too warm which makes you sleepy at first Wrecker is confused and debates on waking you up or not but when Tech tells him you’re probably just exhausted from the mission he decides not to wake you up. He completely gets it though during a mission his adrenaline can be pumping but afterwords he’s totally exhausted.
Even though at times Wrecker can be loud he’s completely silent so he doesn’t disturb your sleep he can’t help but find it cute when you mumble a few words in your sleep, some of the words he can make out and some others he can’t.
You apologize to Wrecker about sleeping on him but he shrugs “I didn’t mind! Hey did you know you talk in your sleep?” You can only hope you didn’t say anything too weird.
ᴇᴄʜᴏ:
He’s actually used to it especially when it’s you he remembers whenever you would travel with them on missions you would fall asleep on his shoulder or Five’s shoulder (depending who was the closest to you) so it wasn’t someone new to him.
Might join in with you on taking a power nap but if he stays awake he’s quick to shush the others if they start getting too loud
“I did it again didn’t I?” You ask Echo as you finally wake up from your nap he chuckles “you really need to get your sleep schedule adjusted.” You groaned “tell me about it.. sorry Echo.” He smiles at you “I don’t mind.” Echo is willing to lead you his shoulder again if you need a quick nap which in return makes you happy.
ᴛᴇᴄʜ:
Tech doesn’t shrug you off but will definitely lightly scold you about your sleeping pattern and needing a better sleeping routine you let out a small grumble before falling asleep again, Tech doesn’t mind it honestly though he’s still able to work on his datapad and plus the others can fly the marauder.
He does appreciate though that you can easily let your guard down around him he’s like oh they find me safe and warm? That’s new but he’s smiling about it.
When you wake up you apologize to Tech about falling asleep on him he’s quick to reassure you that he doesn’t mind but PLEASE get your sleeping routine in check. Seriously the amount of times he’s found you awake until the sun rises is concerning…
The Bad Batch has the most realistic romantic plot because when a gorgeous, independent woman was presented with several equally handsome men, she chooses the smartass.
Hunter: He adores them and spends a lot of time holding them. Hunter is also really big on the whole skin-to-skin contact, so it becomes a common thing to see him walking around shirtless with the baby cradled snugly in one arm. He gets pretty good at performing tasks around the home with the baby. He's enraptured by the little one, but also very attentive to your needs. Hunter makes sure you take the time you need to eat, shower, and just have time to relax every now and then. Literally, any excuse to hold them some more, and he's giving it. He is good at rocking the baby in such a way that they fall asleep instantly in his arms.
Wrecker: The baby has him wrapped around their tiny finger already. He's already telling them how much he loves them and how proud he is. Wrecker also just spends time telling them all the fun things they're going to do together when they're old enough to walk, talk, etc. He is so unbelievably gentle and sweet with the little one in general, and also of course with you. He'll randomly stare at you and tell you how beautiful you are and what a good job you're doing.
Tech: This baby is not at the point where they can retain any information yet, but Tech spends plenty of time just talking to them. He talks about anything his mind can conjure up. The baby becomes so accustomed to the sound of his voice that it has quite the soothing effect. Additionally, Tech is very quick to pick up on the baby's cycle of needs. It gets to the point where they cry, and he can glance at his chrono and pinpoint exactly what they need according to the little schedule he's created. He also regularly checks the baby's weight, vitals, to make sure they're in good health. From time to time he voices yet again how fascinating the miracle of birth is and how proud he is of you, also checking your health.
Echo: Spends the first few weeks only holding the baby when sitting down. He can't get over how fragile they are, and he just sits there and stares at them as long as he can in amazement and adoration before they wake up from their nap or fuss about something they need. When the baby bursts into a fit of wails, he goes into a bit of a panic mode worrying about what's wrong. Eventually, he gets more comfortable and gets used to the idea that the baby is just communicating a need. It doesn't take long for him to become a professional dad. He gets pretty organized with the diaper bag and supplies so that he can just pull out whatever the baby needs at the drop of a hat.
Crosshair: He spends a good while just quietly holding the baby in his arms and watching them. Internally, he thinks they're absolutely precious and realizes he loves them so much. He already knew he'd love them, but he didn't realize it would feel like this. The baby is heart-wrenchingly cute, and he'd do anything to protect them. You come to find that he becomes more vocal, telling the baby in a sort of Crosshair-style sarcasm that they need to get their act together every time he has to handle a diaper change, feeding, etc. He's up with you at any hour day or night to help with the baby without a complaint, and regularly makes sure you're taking care of yourself also.
Hello! I saw your bad batch works and they’re so good! I was wondering if you could do all the boys x reader where they’re watching her perform on stage to distract a target and they get jealous and want her to perform for them privately and it leads to a lot of tension, flustered and blushing boys and maybe spice? Hope this is ok! Hope you’re having a good week!! Xx
Oh, ho HOOOO Nonny, you have struck a DELECTABLE chord with this one!! This is such an amazing idea, I would be remiss if I didn't offer you praise for it! I have indeed been having a good week, thank you for asking! Been a bit busy since the latter half of the summer and then BAM into the holidays so i am getting back on my writing mojo slowly but surely, but that's all in good fun! I hope this serves as a treat from me to you! Enjoy! 😜
Muse🕸️
Pairing: TBB x F!Reader
Warnings: (+18) undercover, fluff, hurt-comfort, fake performance, provocative action, alcohol, smoking, language, canon-typical violence, jealousy game, smut
Summary: After having broken Rampart out of confinement, the squad elicits his authoritative connections to gain data on the whereabouts of the remainder of clones still trapped by the Empire. With you being the only one experienced in the art of song and dance, you are commissioned to serve as the incredibly vital distraction that will allow them to acquire the data, however, no one could have expected you to be that good at your job.
🎆Btw: HAPPY NEW YEAR, MY LOVELIES!!🎉
Read on ao3 - 6k words
TBB×Reader Masterlist - Main Masterlist
“Whose idea was this anyway?” You’re shuffling a few pairs of seductive gloves that reach past your elbows, trying to pick which color goes with your outfit more before deciding on the white ones.
“Hey, don’t start getting mad when I came up with the game plan, this time!” Wrecker adds in his defense.
“I wouldn’t be as upset if I didn’t have to look so… ridiculous.” You pull the gloves on securely before taking an awkward seat to reach your shoes, finding that the constriction limits your movement in some areas, requiring a little getting used to.
“I think you look pretty.” Omega helps lace up your knee-high ruby heels when she sees your struggle.
“Pretty’s not good enough.” You sigh hopelessly. “I have to look showstopping. Irresistible even.”
“Well, I think you’ve checked all the boxes.” Wrecker discloses while eyeing you up and down amidst a passive lick of his lips.
“Wrecker…” Omega scolds him and you smirk at the exchange.
“S-sorry. I uh, I only meant that I agree with Omega.” Wrecker’s shifty eyes nervously dart back and forth.
“Nice save.” You smile while adjusting the straps on this fiery bedazzled unitard. “So, how long do I have to humiliate myself, for?”
“Long enough to ensure we have the data shard.” Hunter enters the room alongside Tech, Echo, and Crosshair. “Wow. You clean up very well.”
“So I’ve heard.” You glance up at Wrecker and he blushes. “Where’s our Imperial friend?”
“Getting changed as well.” Hunter gestures behind himself implying Rampart’s whereabouts. “We should be all set to go in a few. You ready for this?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” You shrug almost shamefully while pulling a floor length fluffy robe over your shoulders as a finishing touch to your outfit “Just be lucky I still know all my moves from my years at the academy.”
“Now, remember, they can’t suspect a thing. Smile through the grit, but don’t let anyone corner you. If anything happens or if you’re made, signal us on this.” He passes you a concealable comm device no larger than a credit chip and you hide it snugly in your brassiere. The red and orange beads sparkle in the light, casting a glitter that none would be able to tear their eyes from, not even Hunter.
“You don’t think anything will happen, do you?” You venture to ask, knowing anything goes on these missions.
“We can’t be too sure.” Hunter tells you with a nod. “Just be careful.”
Rampart barges through to where the group has congregated, fussing with his collar. “You couldn’t have gotten a bigger size? I am far too tall for this uniform. And I’ll have you know, this rank does not reflect my position at all!”
“Stuff it.” Echo slaps Rampart’s arm down so that he can stop fidgeting. “You’re lucky we picked that.”
“Yeah, they didn’t have any sanitation specialist jumpsuits.” Crosshair jokes, reveling in the thought of Rampart looking like a janitor.
“Of which are unisize.” Tech adds with an upward inflection.
“Oh, very funny.” Rampart places his muted beige hat on his head and pulls the brim over his eyes “I’m fine with this, thank you.”
“Good, because if you don’t play along, I’m taking it back.” Crosshair adds, winking at you before being the first to walk out the blast door.
Crosshair shoves him with his shoulder as he passes, leaving Rampart to trip over his own feet. “W-what would you give me instead?”
“Haven’t thought about it.” Crosshair shrugs and Rampart spirals at the thought of being left in his birthday suit. “Probably nothing.”
“Stop antagonizing him, Crosshair.” Echo diffuses the meddling before it gets out of hand. “We need to focus.”
Omega reaches up and slings her arm over your shoulders, pulling you down slightly to her level. “Yeah! Stop trying to impress her! It’s never going to work!”
“Alright, enough funny business.” Hunter pats Omega on the back and she releases you while allowing him to usher her aside. “You stay here with the Senator and other clones. With any luck, we’ll have a lot more brothers heading here in need of processing.”
“I’ll keep an eye on her.” Riyo Chuchi grins at her, welcoming the little girl into her space. “We’ll have fun while they’re busy saving more of your brothers, won’t we, Omega?”
“What should we do first?” she asks, eager to begin.
“How about we get you something to eat first.” Chuchi suggests as Omega takes her hand, leading the way to the canteen.
“Break a leg!” Omega shouts as they begin walking away, waving goodbye before turning the corner.
You giggle at her mention, but it only reminds you of the audacious costume you’ve donned for the evening. You subconsciously adjust the hem of your dress, but the length is far too short to make any real difference. You despise the way it feels so tightly hugging your torso, but hate how it looks even more. While the others conduct a swift recap over the plan, you find yourself distracted until someone senses your discomfort and encourages you through it.
“Though you do look like you’re uncomfortable…” Tech starts with a pause.
“I am.” You admit, taking advantage of his vocal intermission.
“I’d be remiss if I didn’t comment on how elegant you look tonight.” Tech’s respectfulness has a hand in your spirits being lifted, but it’s not enough to completely ease your mind from the stage fright.
“That’s a word for it.” Your stomach is in knots and it’s getting increasingly difficult to play it cool. Maybe it’s the nerves. Maybe it’s because of the way they all gawk at you.
“Look, everyone in the establishment will be sporting equally flashy ensembles.” Tech speaks logic and you surmise that it is true, calming down a bit. “It is only customary that the performers outdress them.”
“Thanks.” You smile at him, appreciative of his honesty.
“Meaning,” Tech pauses to turn your head to face him with a soft grasp of your chin. “It will be easier for you to blend in.”
“Let’s hope you’re right.” You file in with Tech behind everyone, the clicking of your heels echoing down the corridors.
As it would turn out, Tech is seldom wrong. No one suspects a thing. The stage is rather wide, estimated anywhere between fifteen to twenty meters. You can see it from where you stand backstage. There is currently a rather notable music group taking the spotlight with you serving as the upcoming act.
As you continue to scan the expansive auditorium, you spot Rampart in an elevated booth perched at the ceiling. From what you can tell, the deal isn’t going well, but even if he doesn’t get the shard they need outright, someone close by will surely swipe it. All they needed him to do was get the man alone.
It’s a rather portly sort of man. A human, much to Rampart’s delight regardless of his disgusting disposition. He’s feasting on a spread of appetizers and culinary aphrodisiacs, no doubt altering the state of his mind beyond repair. A lit cigar hangs from his wheezing gob, spreading its noxious smoke all over the sectional. He’s made his own trafficking ring centered around the clones, exploiting them for cruel labor and selling them for parts when they inevitably perish.
“Now, Sir Baessa, if we could get back to business and-
Rampart is cut off by Baessa’s drunken guffaws, finding humor in throwing morsels of food at anyone who takes the stage. “Quit yer winging! We have plenty of time!”
His lack of decorum is putting a substantial drag on this meeting, and yet Rampart can only sit and wait for it to all be over. “Sir Baessa, I regret to inform you that my schedule is not as lenient.”
“What are you tryin’ to say?” Baessa looks offended and Rampart thinks his cover’s been blown, only for the opposite to take place. “Loosen up! I’ll order another round of drinks!”
Rampart receives a rough slap of Baessa’s lead hands on his back, spilling the drink he’s currently sipping on all over his highwater suit. He swallows his pride, suffering his lashings with a grimace as you appear into view. The lights have been darkened and the intermission of silence is broken up by your recorded music playing through on the loud speakers.
A gentle breeze carries the melody of windchimes as they sway in everyone’s imagination. Artificial flakes meant to symbolize snow fall from the ceiling. The lights catch them on their way down, collecting in piles at your feet as you enter the stage and slowly creating a trail left by your robe with all eyes on you. The lengthy sleeves add dynamic to your alluring silhouette, swaying them from side to side to dust off some of the snow from your path.
What starts off as serene and tranquil violently erupts into a turbulent storm. The prop team went over the top with this as handcrafted tapestries engulf the stage much like flames rippling in the wind. The once pure white flakes are diluted to a tainted gray, eventually turning full on black when the figurative fire consumes you.
As you writhe and flail, you toss and turn your body much like one would if they were set on fire. Your robe has been strung to an unseen fishing line, ripping it off in a flash to reveal the inferno of your unitard. You continue to flail in all directions, suffering the unseen blows of the tempestuous elements. As your agony is metamorphosed into beauty and grace, there isn’t a single person under the roof that wasn’t absolutely captivated by your dignified performance.
For a while, the viewers forget that this is all a mirage, their hearts gripped by your torment to the very second you collapse, lifeless at the center of the stage. The flames have disappeared, leaving only ash to pepper on your head. Everyone puts themselves in your shoes; the thought of their home burning away, their loved ones being mercilessly consumed, leaving nothing but embers in its wake. A sole survivor to such a miserable end.
Your ability to appear so beautiful and yet so tragic causes more than a distraction as the boys nearly miss their quickly closing window. Hunter’s agility allows him to sneak to the theater box at the height of your dance where he successfully swipes the data shard from the unsuspecting Baessa, replacing it with a dud right in his coat pocket hanging over the back of his chair. Though, as Hunter does this, he can’t help but notice Baessa’s heavy breathing.
At first, he thought it to be a side effect of his excess weight, but the way he bites his drooled lip causes his blood to boil when this distraction begins to work a little too well. Hunter fights with the image of putting him in a chokehold from behind, clamping down on that sweaty, balding and liver spotted head of his when his earpiece chimes with an incoming transmission.
“Hunter, have you got it?” Down the hall, Tech is ensuring the surrounding surveillance systems are hacked while Crosshair is on lookout.
Hunter buries his sore feelings, wiping his hands clean of his unspoken interaction to complete his task. “Affirmative. Heading back now.”
Once Hunter is home free, he tosses the shard to Tech where he then immediately downloads it to his tablet. “That’s as close as I ever want to be to that guy. Eugh.”
“Yeah, but at least you got to see her on stage.” Crosshair relaxes his post, allowing Hunter to stand watch while he peers over Tech’s shoulder at the minimized live feed of your dance.
“Didn’t matter much when I was lying prone and breathing the air of some fat slug.” Hunter is still bothered by the way Baessa was looking at you, his knuckles crack as his hands roll into fists.
“No matter, Crosshair. We’ll soon have countless angles to choose from.” Tech displays a loading bar generating copies of your dance footage for his personal archives, all done in the background of his mission priorities.
“How did you have time to do that?” Hunter asks, shocked at the pristine quality of the footage.
“It’s quite simple really. Once the mainframe was breached, all I had to do was-
“On second thought, tell me later. We ought to meet up with the others back at the ship.” Hunter realizes his question opened a larger can of worms than he expected, urging his brothers to get a move on.
They meet up with Echo and Wrecker at the Marauder with Rampart shuffling up the boarding steps not long after them. It is Hunter that notices your absence first. “Wait, where is she?”
“I thought she would have made her own way back by now.” Rampart begins to strip the soiled coat off, tossing it aside to rid himself of the filth and smell of Baessa. “She is rather capable. You lot have said so yourself”
“Didn’t you hear the briefing?” Echo’s attitude takes a stark turn as his voice raises. “You were charged to bring her with you!”
“You idiot!” Crosshair pushes his way to Rampart but Wrecker gets between them. “They don’t let their performers leave without just cause!”
“Yeah, they wouldn’t question a suit, idiot!” Wrecker slaps Rampart upside the head, reprimanding him for all to see. He shrinks, realizing just how dangerous a slip up he did by leaving you right in the rancor’s den. However, as they reach the peak of their lash out, Hunter’s comm device emits a beeping signal and their worst fears have been made a reality.
Baessa bulldozes into the dressing room just as you’re rushing to leave, having pressed the silent alarm on your device. “Where do you think you’re going, princess?”
“You can’t be in here.” With your back to the wall and Baessa at your only exit, you’re right where Hunter told you not to be. He closes the door behind him, making sure to lock it.
“I own the joint.” He counters with a menacing sneer. “I can be anywhere I want.”
“You’re gonna want to go right back out of that door buddy.” You warn him, giving him the chance to make the right choice and bow out before something bad happens.
“I see you’re not gonna make this easy, eh?” Baessa steps closer, removing his vest to reveal a pair of suspenders secured to his waistband where his button-up is tucked in.
“Not on your life.” You widen your chance, preparing to receive him for his starting attack, glittering beads and all.
“You’re a good dancer.” He does the same, setting himself up to charge forward. “Let’s see some of those moves.”
He throws one punch, but you block it, landing a firm blow at his temple. His ears ring and he groans, but he regains his footing and tries to get you down with a swift backhand. In the last second, you dodge past it and his fist collides with the nearest wall, cracking the surface.
He’s getting angry. Baessa expected to be through with you by now, but you’re giving him a run for his money, that is until he at least is able to use his burly size against you.
His frustration riles him up and he closes the distance with a powerful shove of his body into yours. He knocks you to the ground with the sheer mass of his gut and the wind is knocked out of you to your surprise.
You cough through the soreness, but you only manage to sit up when he grabs you by the wrists, lifting you to his eyeline. “Sorry, did that hurt?”
“Not as much as this will.” Having caught your breath a bit, you curl your body in on itself, lifting your feet to your chest so that you can plant the soles of your heels on his face, kicking him into oblivion. You are dropped to the floor where you land at the same time he falls with a loud thud like a heap of timber wood.
He’s snoozing like a baby, passed out cold from such a strike to his noggin. The once locked door opens with all five of your boys to greet you, making note that you’ve successfully fended off Baessa all by yourself.
As Wrecker rushes to your side and helps you to your feet, Tech swipes the fake data shard and replaces it with the real one upon arrival, ensuring their tracks are covered and nothing can be traced back to them; a serendipitous outcome he otherwise would not have had if Rampart followed instructions. “Took you guys long enough.”
“Sorry, Rampart bailed on his part.” Crosshair remains at the doorway, keeping the coast clear.
“I was wondering where that mousy bastard went.” You toss the heels off, immediately changing into a pair of boots left in the dressing room so that you can run out of here more efficiently. “I’m not surprised.”
“If we exit the building now, we can hitch a ride on the Venator about to leave orbit.” Tech points out the window at the ship parked in the loading dock down below.
“Are you okay?” Hunter checks in on your well being with Wrecker dusting you off, wondering if you need a minute or not.
“I’m fine.” You declare. “Let’s get out of here so I can burn this outfit for real this time.”
They get you back safe, but it’s quite late in the night and Omega is already fast asleep while Chuchi continues her packed itinerary on her own. It is decided amongst them that they will act on the coordinates come dawn when everyone is better suited to tackle the priorities. This leaves the boys with nothing to do but reminisce about your dancing, imploring you demonstrate for them
You sigh heavily, exhausted from recent events. You toss the robe aside, kicking off your boots as you do so before taking a seat to massage them. The heels you left behind at the venue were torture and you’ll be glad to never see them again. You begin to massage your feet, only for your movements to be interrupted by Hunter taking up the job himself. “You weren’t actually thinking about torching that, were you?”
“I highly considered it.” You didn’t like this little number to begin with, but after what happened, you’re finding a stronger distaste for it the longer it clings to your skin.
“Before we could take it for a proper spin?” Echo’s voice is spoken directly into your ear from behind when you notice he’s bent down to your level, his chin inches from your shoulder.
“Oh, you wana take this for a spin?” You taunt them with a shimmy of your shoulders that causes your scintillating cleavage to jiggle.
“If you’ll let us.” Wrecker interjects, practically begging while trying to adjust the ever growing stiffness beneath his codpiece. “Tech’s footage can only do so much...”
“You saved footage of me??” Because of course he would. You are already thinking of all the possible angles he’s captured. Your question remains unanswered, but somehow their reluctance to do so suffices in lighting a fire within you.
“We want the real thing.” Crosshair steps into the fold, sliding the knuckles of his trigger finger up your smooth-shaven thigh.
“We want you.” Tech grasps you by the chin like he had done prior to your departure, leaning in to meet his flirtatious lips with yours. The way he molds into you makes every bad thing about this day melt away in an instant. He’s there. They all are, and they’d never leave you for anything.
You smile into the kiss, smooching him sweetly with a mirroring movement of your mouths against each other. Tech pulls away, cheeks rosy and flushed with his eyes half-lidded. You meet Echo where he is, craning your head back to give him a turn before following through with Crosshair, Hunter, then Wrecker. As they close in fast, you think of the best way to test their own patience.
“This will be more interesting if you all took a seat.” You back away from them a couple steps and they show slight distaste with your orders, but obey regardless. “Right over there.”
They collectively turn their heads and spot a set of scattered steel chairs against the wall broken up between barrack cots tucked into little sleeping nooks built into the walls. You take another step back, your bare feet feeling the fresh cold of the steel flooring when you move to a further spot.
For once, it seems Wrecker is the first to connect the dots, racing as fast as he can to one of the chairs. The rest of your boys scramble over themselves, pushing and shoving so that they can impede each other’s path with Wrecker sitting poised in his seat. They know your rules. No talking. No touching. Not unless you tell them otherwise. Once the dust settles, you improvise some of your favorite moves and how they would flow through without those clunky knee-highs.
You start off by turning around, a hard swish of your hips to the left, then to the right, all while skating your own hands against your curves. You bend down and touch the floor with legs spread, showing them everything you’re willing to offer. You snap back up with a flip of your hair and initiate your dance on Hunter’s side.
What starts as a soft pet of his head turns into a rough tousle of his hair before you shove his face away from you. He scoffs at the sass, catching his lip in his maw. He holds the chair like he wants to rip it apart, holding back his undying appetite while you leave him with a cloud of your intoxicating pheromones.
You move on to Echo, utilizing the tiny section of his seat to hoist your foot onto. As you lean into him, he detects nectar on your hair left by your shampoo. You press your flattened palm against his chest plate, running it all the way down to his utility belt before kicking off and moving onto the next one.
Following a transitioning spin, you sit yourself on Crosshair’s lap, your back against his chest as you grind into him. You lick him up the length of his neck before leaving a fierce love bite right at his collar. He hisses at the sting only to be saddened when you roughly push yourself at arm’s length, making your way to Wrecker.
You walk a few paces in front of him, taking a different spin on his segment than you did the others. You squat down and bounce a few times only to slowly stand back up and then slap your own ass. His eyes go wide when you extend your arms and begin crawling towards him on all fours. He is your prey and he happily surrenders. You meet him at his lap where you yank on his utility belt now, using it as an anchor to pull yourself up to standing.
You look down at him as he stares with his mouth agape. While twirling your hair around to add a little flare before dramatically laying with your back against his chest, he swallows hard in his dry throat. A soft pass of your fingers through your own hair drives Wrecker crazy when you do the same motion but to the webbing of scars along his features. He lets out a huffed breath when you begin to shadow his hands, making him feel you up.
You smoothly transition back around with a casual turn, extending one of your legs across Tech’s lap from where he sits in close proximity. You use that leg and ease yourself from one lap to the other, caring not for the jagged armor digging into your flesh. Now straddling Tech, your noses practically touch when you start plucking off pieces of armor and the others begin following suit. Tech sits as motionless as he can when you remove his pauldrons, slip off his vambraces and unlatch his chest piece. Armor clatters to the floor. You begin kissing Tech again, fusing your mouths while coaxing him to stand so that you can walk Tech to the closest sleeping nook.
The others eagerly follow behind, all climbing atop the cot to surround you. They start massaging. Hunter and Crosshair each take a foot, pressing their thumbs into the meat of your arches. Tech lays you against his chest and handles your shoulders while Wrecker and Echo make themselves useful and alleviate the tension in your hands and arms. They continue to the point that relaxation is almost all consuming, but you have far much more in mind to do with them than a dance, some kisses and a foot rub.
You begin to sit up. They release your appendages, letting you turn around and straddle Tech. With no codpiece to block him, you begin grinding, pushing him down so he is lying on his back. You can feel his hardened length poking you through his undersuit. It takes little effort to fish it out. As you take this step, you pull your unitard to the side and expose yourself through one of your leg holes.
Tech is taken aback when you deposit a couple fingers into his mouth. He gratefully sucks on them, biting slightly to watch you wince. You pull them out with a rake of his fangs along your knuckles, promptly using the spittle to lubricate yourself before sitting on him.
His hands are fastened to your hips, rocking you back and forth. As he lies on his back, you pull in the other boys for kisses and gropes. Starting with Crosshair, you reach into his pants and begin stroking him. He meets you halfway for a kiss while your other hand, slightly damp from Tech’s spit, dives past Echo’s waistband. Wrecker and Hunter begin pulling at the straps on your shoulders, revealing your perky breasts for them to suckle and squeeze. Their calloused hands turn you on immensely when their roughness meets your smoothness.
Tech is losing it in the way you keep bouncing on him. As far as you’re concerned, you’ve got the best seat in the house. The heat of your pussy coupled with the constriction of your unitard is exhilarating. He isn’t sure how long he’s going to last. You’re so caught up with the other boys, you’re pulled from the distraction when you feel Tech’s thrusts from under you, pumping upward and hitting you right where you want it.
You cry out loudly and they all feel their ears perk up to your moans. Though, if they can hear you, others can too. One of Tech’s hands moves from being anchored to your hips to now acting as a makeshift muzzle, impeding your ability to echo through the space. Everyone else’s cocks twitch in their confines as they observe the exchange.
It happens at last. Tech’s forceful pattern falters. His powerful pumps turn to jerked shudders so you gently push the others aside after retrieving your palms from their cocks. You lean over Tech, grinding as hard as you can into him while swirling your tongue around in his mouth. Even when he’s thoroughly finished, you continue to slam your ass down onto his hips to extract every modicum of pleasure until he can’t take it anymore.
You chomp on his lip and he opts to bite your neck, but you’re careful not to moan too loudly. With your head turned, you see everyone sprung themselves free of their lower garments. All are watching this, stroking themselves in hopes you don’t notice their drool.
Tech catches you by surprise by wrapping his arm around you and flipping over to pin you on your back, driving himself into you hard. This angle is different and delicious. You whine when he pulls out, keeping your eyes closed to soak it all in before opening them to see Echo has taken his place. Though, before he slips in, you treat him to a front row view of your nude form, stripping until you’ve nothing on but the makeup on your face.
The accumulated slick allows him to fall into you easily. He props himself up with his scomp, using his hand to lift one of your legs to the ceiling. As Echo gets his time, you extend your grabby hands to the rest of your boys to alternate sucking on them while maintaining a constant stroke over the other two.
Tech sets up shop in the corner of the room, connecting the feed he’s receiving through his goggle lenses to the archive on his tablet, making sure not a second is uncaptured. It is there where he will stay; a silent director and voyeur until the rest have had their way.
You can tell Echo is getting a little nervous, worried about finishing fast enough, you can feel it in the way he moves that he’s slightly struggling. An abrupt pluck of your mouth off Crosshair’s cock allows you to pass your lingering tongue over the tip before you reach for Echo with the same enthusiasm. You guide him to nestle into your neck, grounding himself with eyes closed as he centers his focus solely on you.
He rests his entire weight over you with his forehead sinking into the bed. His hand extends down and caresses your plush ass, squeezing it while he fucks you. Your supple jiggling gets him closer and he bites your neck this time knowing you like doing it, but love having it done more. A sharp moan pierces his ears. His pace quickens, slamming into you hard with both your legs akimbo up in the air.
Come begins spilling out of you. Remnants of Tech’s are now sloppily mixed with Echo’s. He kisses you and whispers your name while emptying himself. He just needed to focus a little harder to get there is all. Once having pulled out of you, he takes a pause to watch the stream of white spill away when he’s cleared the plug.
He starts to make room for the next person, but you stop him short, leading him to your mouth so that you can suck him clean. He navigates on his steel knees where you breathlessly taste the flavors on his cock. Though, before you could really get into it, he pulls you off of him, afraid you’re going to cause another eruption.
“Careful with that…” Echo warns. “Don’t want to get another round in before my brothers have their time with you.”
“Go make sure Tech is capturing my good side, then.” You wink as he departs to the viewing party in the corner, playfully tossing your clothes at your faithful cameraman in the distance.
As you wave at Echo and wink at Tech, your focus is regained on Hunter and Crosshair where they adventurously twist your lower torso so that you are positioned on your side. You lay overtop Wrecker’s legs as he leisurely sprawls over the cot. He can handle your weight, even when your elbows dig into him from trying to guide his ginormous shaft to your tingly lips. The girth of his cock is substantial, causing you to stretch as much as you can over it. Wrecker holds your head in his massive hands and moves your mouth up and down his shaft.
While this is happening, Hunter plunges into you, keeping your leg positioned on his shoulder. As he does it, Crosshair is playing with your ass cheeks, spreading them, sapping them. You can only hope he acts on his most carnal desires and gives you more of what you long for.
Hunter hugs your leg, his pace growing more powerful by the second. Crosshair keeps both palms gripped over your backside, inching his thumb closer and closer until it begins prodding at your only unoccupied entrance.
With Wrecker holding your head and Hunter hugging your thigh, you’ve nowhere to go when this salacious sensation takes you by storm. You were wondering how long it was going to take for someone to venture that far, pleased to realize Crosshair fills the role quite perfectly.
You’re a mess from the waist down. Between your thighs is a thick accumulation of come that’s only growing by the second. Crosshair has pushed his thumb clear past the first knuckle. Your incoherent moans and mewls are obstructed by Wrecker’s cock, adding to the appeal of the obscene snare you’ve willingly waltzed into. His meaty fingers are threaded into your hair with no desire to let you go.
Crosshair spins his thumb around, loosening the ring of flesh to see it dilate for him. He eases it out and switches with his long and slender middle finger. The first knuckle glides in like a breeze. The next one bears just a little resistance, yielding when he shoves it as far as your anatomy will allow.
You wriggle and writhe, making it difficult for Hunter to finish. He is entertained by your movements, the contortion of your pussy against his cock pushes him closer to the edge.
All the while gagging on Wrecker, Hunter eases up on his thrusts when he notices Crosshair fucking his fist after licking his own palm. The saliva coats his length and you feel him spit directly on your ass. It spalts right between your cheeks and you jostle slightly from the sensation, startled by what’s to come. His bulbous tip knocks up against you and Hunter courteously stops his movements for a second so that Crosshair can impale you himself. Wrecker keeps your mouth on him, looking over when you scream on his cock. Your eyes go cross and all you can do is swivel your hips to nonverbally beg them for more.
Hunter and Crosshair look each other in the eye to exchange a knowing smirk before propelling you like a pendulum between them. You’re rocked back and forth while one distends your ass and the other balloons your pussy. Wrecker stares into your eyes as he’s getting close himself. He loves when you make him come with just your mouth.
When Hunter pushes you away, you get impaled harder by Crosshair and vice versa. You are not afforded even a millisecond of reprieve as every hole is being unremittingly stuffed. All you can do is lie there and take all they have to give you.
The tightness of your ass around Crosshair rivals the abundance in your pussy when Hunter really starts getting into it. They bounce you off each other while you remain pleasantly caught in the middle. Their hands savor your curves, Hunter locates your clit and rubs it firmly so that a bubbling climax builds within, intensified by Crosshair’s slaps and Wrecker’s tender endearments.
Crosshair strikes your ass one last time, holding it there as he empties himself inside you. The pulsating sensation is duplicated when Hunter punctually meets the same end. Your lips are numb when Wrecker spasms in your mouth. When the heat drips out of your swollen pussy to soak the cot, a secondary scorching is shot down your throat. You slurp every bit of it like sucking down on a straw. After a few large gulps, Wrecker lets go of your hair, petting your face and wiping your chin clean.
All three boys exit you slowly, plopping themselves alongside you to rest. You shift from your side onto your back, looking up to see them relaxing everywhere you glance. It is at this moment you ask how things fare with Tech and if he and Echo like the movie they made. “So, how’d it turn out?”
“Why don’t we watch it and do a scene-by-scene reenactment?” At his declaration, everyone’s head is put on a swivel at such a delectable notion, eager to get the ball rolling on a second edition.
