#Arc trooper echo x reader

[meshla-cyarika]

Instantly thought this during this scene 💀

[jetii]

A Little Fun

Pairing: Echo x fem!Reader / Echo x Medic!Reader

Words: 16,139

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! fluff, smut, pretty much pwp let's be honest, but there is some squad family bonding/good-natured ribbing, reader is a known flirt, reader has a nickname, insecure Echo to confident Echo, return of the king (pleasure dom Echo), he talks you through it, Echo's scomp is a paid actor, brat taming?, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, vibrator play, squirting, praise kink, overstimulation, aftercare

Summary: There's something between you and Echo, but despite your best efforts, he's yet to make a move. A night out at 79s changes everything.

A/N: the most self-indulgent thing i’ve ever written. 🙈 do not perceive me

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The music is a wall of sound, a thudding rhythm so loud it's practically a physical force. There's a strobing light show that seems to be designed to make people sick to their stomachs, and the dance floor is so crowded with writhing bodies you can't tell where one person ends and another begins. You're entranced by it, drawn into the pulsing beat. It's like a heartbeat, and you swear it's calling to you, drawing you in.

It's been ages since you were out at a club like this. You never realized how much you missed it. You've spent months fighting battles on countless planets, patching up the squad after every fight, and then going back out and doing it all over again. The only thing that really makes the exhaustion worth it is the promise of something like this—the thrill of a good time, of letting loose and just enjoying yourself.

The song ends and another one takes its place. The music changes, but the crowd doesn't. Everyone on the floor keeps dancing, and you keep right on with them.

You don't know how long you're out there, but after a while you're starting to get worn down. You slip away from a pair of hands around your waist, leaving a trail of apologies in your wake, and head off the floor. There's a booth in the corner of the first floor that the squad has commandeered, a rare commodity at 79s, and you stumble towards it.

You've had enough drinks that you're pleasantly buzzed, and you've lost count of the number of people you've danced with. It's made your body feel alive and hot, the music's thudding beat thrumming through your skin. You haven't had this much fun in months, and for the first time in a long time, you feel free.

"Having fun?" Hunter calls out as you approach. He's sitting on one side of the round booth, next to Crosshair, who has an arm slung casually over the back. You left Wrecker out on the dance floor with a group of Twi'lek women who seem to find his bulk a source of fascination, and Tech is seated on Hunter's other side next to Echo, nursing a drink and watching the room with a passive gaze.

"Of course," you say with a laugh. "You're not?"

"Eh." Crosshair scoffs, not bothering to look over at you. His eyes are trained on the dancers out on the floor. "Not really."

"What about you, Tech?" you ask, leaning against the table and taking a sip of your drink.

"I find the entire affair rather fascinating," he says as he gestures vaguely at the crowd. "All the various forms of sentient expression are...interesting, to say the least."

"And what do you think of my form of expression, Tech?" you ask playfully, putting your hand over your heart and giving him a flirty smile. You take a seat at the end of the booth and lean closer.

Tech, ever immune to your antics, doesn't miss a beat.

"You appear to be expending a lot of energy on a relatively simple activity. However, the results do seem to be pleasing to you."

"What he's trying to say is, you look like you're having a good time," Echo supplies. He has his chin propped on his hand, but he's smiling at you, clearly amused. You meet his gaze and grin back.

"I am having a good time," you confirm. "How about you?"

"It's not exactly my scene," he says, and he gives a shrug. "But I can see why you'd enjoy it."

"If you change your mind and want to dance, just let me know," you tell him. "You know, since I'm already expending all this energy."

"Maybe later," he says.

His smile softens, and you're a little surprised to see it. The last few months have been hard on Echo, and you can count on one hand the number of times you've seen him smile like that. He's been working through a lot of guilt and self-loathing, and seeing him smile, even if it's small, is a nice change. It's good to see him loosening up a bit.

"I'll hold you to that," you tell him, and Echo grins and leans back.

"Are you sure you don't want to come out on the dance floor, Tech?" you ask, glancing over at him.

Tech shakes his head. "I prefer not to dance."

"What about you two? Not planning on getting out there?"

"I would sooner stick my hand in a rocket booster than step foot on that dance floor," Crosshair says without looking away from the crowd.

Hunter nods, and he gestures with his bottle. "That goes for me, too."

"Bunch of party poopers," you mutter and take a drink. "You should be ashamed of yourselves."

“There‘s no shortage of people willing to dance with you," Crosshair says, still staring at the crowd, and you can hear the teasing lilt in his voice. "No need to bother with us."

"We wouldn't want to deprive the galaxy of your...talents," Tech says.

"Very funny." You take a long drink and let the conversation drop.

"So," Hunter starts after a long silence. His eyes flicker to Echo and back to you, and he raises a brow. "How many people did you have to beat off with a stick on the dance floor?"

"Not too many," you say. "Only a few."

"Only a few, huh?" Crosshair asks. He sounds skeptical.

"Cross, don't act like you weren't counting every guy I danced with," you retort, and when he doesn't immediately respond, you grin and lean forward, bracing your elbows on the table. "See? Knew it."

"Don't flatter yourself," he says. "I was bored. Had nothing better to do."

"Yeah, yeah," you say, rolling your eyes. "Whatever you say. Don’t worry, none of them are worth mentioning."

“What about that guy who was talking to you earlier?" Echo asks, and he nods over to a spot near the bar. "I saw him buy you a drink. Didn't look like nothing."

"Who, that Mirialan?" You wave a dismissive hand. "Nah, he was cute, but not really my type.”

Echo gives a low hum of acknowledgement, his eyes never leaving yours, and you feel a strange thrill at the attention. You've always loved the way he looks at you. There's something about his eyes that makes your heart skip a beat, something warm and knowing and inviting. You’ve caught him looking at you like this plenty of times before, but tonight feels different. It feels almost daring. You sit up straighter and turn toward him.

"And what is your type?" he asks. There's an edge of seriousness to his question, and you consider him for a moment, watching him watch you.

"I like someone who can keep up with me," you say finally, and then, with a playful smile, add, "You know, someone with stamina."

Echo laughs a quiet, low chuckle, and your chest tightens. His laugh is a rare and beautiful thing, and you feel a thrill when you hear it.

"Stamina," he repeats, his voice soft and warm. There's a dazed look in his eye, and he blinks it away and meets your gaze again. “Right.”

The conversation is interrupted when Wrecker comes back to the table, panting and laughing, clearly out of breath. There's a sheen of sweat on his forehead and his cheeks are flushed, but he looks thrilled. He drops into the booth next to you, and the motion shoves you closer to Echo. You feel his leg brush yours under the table, and the sudden touch sends a warm spark shooting up your spine.

"This is great!" he shouts over the music. "Why don't we go out more?"

"Because our lives are a shitshow," Crosshair deadpans, finally turning to look at the rest of the squad.

Wrecker lets out a hearty laugh, and reaches across the table to give Crosshair a good-natured smack on the shoulder. "Ah, don't be so gloomy!"

"I'm not being gloomy, I'm being realistic," Crosshair replies with a scowl, but he softens a bit when Wrecker pulls back and settles into the booth, his arm slung over the back behind you.

"Oh, don't listen to him," Wrecker says. He's turned towards you now, and his arm is pressing against the back of your shoulders. "We should go out more often. You're a great dancer, y'know that?"

"You're not so bad yourself,” you say with a grin. “You're pretty light on your feet for someone so big."

Wrecker lets out a loud, barking laugh, pulling his arm out from behind you to slap his knee. His laugh is infectious, and you can't help but laugh along.

"You hear that, Cross?" he says. "I'm light on my feet."

"You're a regular acrobat," Crosshair drawls, his tone flat, but the hint of a smile plays at his lips.

"See, you're in a good mood!" Wrecker says, his smile growing. He takes a long pull from his drink, and then sets the glass down on the table, turning back to you. “Let’s go back out there! You and me, we'll show these losers how it's done."

"I need a break," you say, holding up a hand to stop him. "Sorry, Wrecker. Maybe later."

"Aw, alright," he says. He's still grinning, and he claps you on the shoulder with a bit more force than necessary. Your body rocks to the side, and you let out a breathless laugh as Echo puts a steadying hand on your arm.

"Easy there," Echo warns. His fingers linger on your forearm, and you can't help the thrill that rushes through you. You meet his gaze, and the corners of his mouth twitch.

"Thanks,” you say, and offer him a small smile.

Echo doesn't say anything. He just smiles back and pulls away, lifting his drink to his lips.

The conversation moves on, but you're barely paying attention to anything other than the feeling of Echo's leg against yours, the heat of his body, the lingering feeling of his hand on your arm. The touch was casual, friendly, but there's a part of you that wants to reach out and take his hand. It's been a while since you've gone dancing, and it's been longer since you've had any kind of physical intimacy, and a small, desperate part of you wants that contact. Especially if it’s Echo.

You steal a glance at him and find him looking back at you. His gaze is focused, a bit calculating, like he's trying to puzzle you out, and there’s a faint flush high on his cheeks. You raise an eyebrow at him, and his lips curl into a small smile. The two of you share a long look, and you wonder if he's thinking the same thing as you are.

"I'm gonna head back out," Wrecker says, and the words snap you out of your trance. He's standing next to the booth now, his drink empty, his hands splayed out on the table. "You guys should come out there with me. Stitches, c’mon!”

"I told you, I need a break," you say, a teasing smile playing at your lips. "Why don't you take Hunter? He was just saying how much he wanted to dance.”

"No," Hunter says immediately, shooting you a warning look. "Absolutely not."

"Yes!" Wrecker exclaims. 

The small smirk on Crosshair’s face spreads into a full on grin as he stands from the booth, pulling a grumbling Hunter up with him. He pushes him into Wrecker’s awaiting arms, and Wrecker gives a loud cheer. “Let’s go, Sarge!”

"You're a traitor," Hunter hisses, shooting you a dirty look over his shoulder as Wrecker drags him away. You give him a cheeky little wave, and he narrows his eyes.

"Have fun!" you call after him. You can hear Hunter let out a loud groan over the sound of the music, and you laugh as the pair disappears into the crowd.

Crosshair snickers and slips back into the booth, stretching out across the seat and resting his arm across the back. "Well, this’ll be entertaining."

"He'll be fine," Tech says, taking a sip of his drink before returning to his datapad. The four of you laugh a moment, and then fall into a companionable silence.

With the other two distracted, you slide closer to Echo, letting your leg press against his. You don't know if he does it on purpose or not, but he shifts and his leg presses harder against yours, a solid weight against you.

You let your eyes wander to the dance floor, where Hunter and Wrecker are dancing amongst the crowd. Hunter seems to have loosened up a tad, and his movements are more fluid, less rigid. But when he turns to look over at you, you can see the murder in his eyes. You can't help but laugh and give him another wave.

"You're cruel," Echo says, leaning in so his voice will carry over the noise, his breath warm on your cheek.

"No, I’m a genius," you reply easily.  "And an opportunist."

You turn your head back towards him, and the two of you are close—much closer than you expected. His face is only inches from yours, and he's so close that you can see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes, the stubble on his jaw, the tiny scar on his forehead.

He's looking at you the way he did earlier, and a wave of warmth runs through your body, pooling low in your belly.

"A dangerous combination,” he says. He looks down, and his lips curl into a smile.

You laugh, and his eyes dart up to meet yours. "Is that a good thing?"

Echo pauses, considering. "I guess we'll find out."

There's a tension building between the two of you, and for a moment, neither of you speak. He's studying you with that intense, focused gaze again, and your body is thrumming. You've felt this feeling before, whenever Echo looks at you like that.

He's attractive—that was an undeniable fact. And he's funny, and smart, and caring, and he's a really, really good friend. But it's the moments like this, the times when his focus is all on you, that make you wish for something more.

You don't know what exactly that something more is, but right now, you can't help but imagine his lips pressed against yours, the feeling of his fingers running through your hair, the heat of his body pressed up against yours. It's been so long since you've had any sort of contact like that, and right now, it's all you can think about.

"So," Echo says, finally breaking the silence. His voice is a low rumble. "Stamina, huh?"

You hum, nodding. "It's a requirement."

"And what other requirements are there?"

"Depends," you say with a little shrug. You find yourself leaning in a fraction, drawn to him, and he mimics the motion. You’re not sure if he even realizes he’s doing it, but the sight of him moving towards you sends a hot pulse of anticipation through you.

"On?" he asks. There's a teasing lilt in his voice, a gentle playfulness, and you can't help but smile. His eyes drop to your mouth and then flick back up to meet yours.

"Who's asking."

You watch a range of emotions flicker across his face, and then Echo leans back, the tension in the air dissipating. He takes a sip of his drink and gives you a smile. "Good to know."

He turns back to the group, and you feel the loss of his gaze like a physical thing. The conversation shifts, and Echo starts talking to Tech, and the two of them get caught up in whatever it is they're discussing.

You can't focus on the conversation. Your eyes are fixed on Echo's face, watching him. It's like something has shifted between the two of you, and you're not entirely sure what that means. It's hard to read him sometimes—he's not exactly forthcoming with his emotions, but you had thought there was a mutual attraction, an understanding.

But then, you can be wrong about these things. it wouldn’t be the first time, and now that the moment has passed, it feels like it never even happened. You move to a sip of your own drink to try to calm your racing heart before you realize it’s empty.

"I'm gonna grab a refill," you say, sliding out of the booth and turning back toward the table. You ignore Crosshair’s smirk, and ask, "Anybody want anything?"

Crosshair and Tech both shake their heads, and Echo looks up at you and smiles.

"I'll come with," he says and slides out of the booth to follow you.

You can feel the weight of Crosshair's eyes on the back of your neck as the two of you walk off. You have a feeling that the conversation will pick back up the moment you're out of earshot, and you have a strong suspicion that you know exactly what it's going to be about.

When the two of you get to the bar, Echo flags down the bartender. The two of you place your orders and wait for the droid to prepare them, and you lean against the bar, your shoulder pressed against Echo's. He glances over at you, and you give him a smile.

"You doing okay?" you ask, tilting your head towards him.

"Yeah, why?"

"I just wanted to check in," you say. You shift a bit, leaning in closer. "We've all been under a lot of stress lately. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Echo considers your words, his brow furrowed in concentration as he looks back at you. Eventually, he seems to come to a decision, and his expression clears.

"I am," he says. "And I appreciate you checking in, but I'm fine. Really."

You nod. That's been Echo's refrain ever since he joined the Bad Batch. The squad has helped him adjust, and the new prosthetics have helped too, but you can tell it's still not easy for him. You've tried your best to support him, and the others have done the same, but there's only so much any of you can do.

"I'm glad," you say. You pause, and then, after a moment's consideration, add, "If you ever need to talk, or anything, you know where to find me."

Echo smiles and nods. “I know.”

The droid sets down your drinks, and you each grab one. For a moment, you debate whether to take them back to the table, but you can hear the sounds of shouting and laughter, and a quick glance at the crowd reveals Hunter and Wrecker stumbling back to the booth.

"Wanna stay here?" you ask, lifting your glass.

Echo looks over at the group, and then back to you. He's got that smile on his face again, and it makes your heart skip a beat.

"Sure," he says, and he hops onto one of the stools. You follow suit, sitting on the one next to him.

You sit in companionable silence for a while. You can hear the sounds of the music, of the dancers and the laughter, but the sounds seem distant, and for a moment, you and Echo are alone.

"I'm happy to see you having fun," he says, breaking the silence.

"Why's that?"

"We've been through a lot the past few months,” he answers. His voice is quiet, but the look in his eyes is steady and focused. "You deserve to have a good time."

"So do you, Echo.”

He doesn't reply, but there's a thoughtful expression on his face as he looks back out at the dance floor. His eyes are distant, and you follow his gaze with a curious tilt of your head.

"You want to get out there and dance, don't you?" you guess, a teasing grin spreading across your face.

Echo gives you a sidelong glance, and his mouth twitches in a little smile. "I told you, it's not really my scene. Not anymore, at least."

"So we'll find another way for you to have fun,” you reply as you turn on the stool to face him. You take a sip of your drink and give him a pointed look. It’s a bit forward, even for you, but the alcohol has you feeling bold, and you get the sense that Echo isn’t as put off by your flirting as he pretends to be.

The two of you lock eyes, and the moment stretches on. His eyes flit over your face, searching, and you meet his gaze, refusing to blink.

Echo rolls his eyes before ducking his head, shaking it slightly. You can see a faint blush on his cheeks, and he lets out a quiet laugh.

"Yeah, okay,” he says sarcastically, and you frown.

"You think I'm not serious?"

"No," he replies, raising his eyebrows at you. "I know you're not."

You tilt your head, studying him. He looks a mixture of amused and annoyed, but beneath that, there's something else. There's a softness to his expression, an almost pleading edge to his voice. It's a strange combination, and you're not sure how to interpret it.

"What makes you say that?"

"Because it’s you," he says, as if that explains everything.

"So?"

"So, you're..." he trails off, gesturing vaguely in your direction. You raise your eyebrows at him, and he lets out a small huff. "Look, we both know you're not really interested."

You feel a surge of annoyance. "Well, maybe I am. Why don't you give me a chance to prove it?"

Echo stares at you, his mouth set in a thin line, and for a moment, the two of you are locked in a silent stand-off. Finally, he breaks the stalemate, letting out a quiet sigh.

"What?" you ask

"Nothing," he says, shaking his head. "You're drunk."

"I am not," you protest. Your eyebrows furrow in indignation. "I've had three drinks, max. And they were light. I'm just feeling good."

"Okay, then," he says, a skeptical look on his face. "Maybe you're not drunk. But you're not exactly thinking straight, either."

You scoff. "Is anyone ever thinking straight in a place like this?"

"Very funny."

"I'm just saying, I'm serious," you insist. "I'm more than happy to have fun with you, if that's what you want."

Echo opens his mouth, and then shuts it, his lips pressed in a thin line. You've never seen him so unbalanced, and the sight fills you with a perverse sense of satisfaction.

"You're not thinking this through," he says. "You have no idea what you're offering."

"So explain it to me," you say. You set your drink down and slide closer to him, your knees brushing against the side of his leg. His eyes dart to the movement, and then back up to meet yours. There's a spark of heat in his gaze, and you can't help but smile.

"You're really—" He breaks off, his gaze dropping to your mouth, and his tongue darts out, swiping over his lips. His gaze lingers for a long moment, and you can feel the tension in the air thicken, like static electricity building just before a lightning strike.

"I'm really what?"

He lets out a frustrated sound. "You’re not making this easy.”

"Oh, please," you say, rolling your eyes. "If it was easy, it wouldn't be any fun."

"You're something else," he says, and there's an edge of frustration to his voice. He runs a hand over his face, and then looks back at you. “I’m not talking about this here.”

"Fine," you say, a little miffed. "Then come back to the ship with me, and we'll finish this conversation."

Echo lets out a long breath, his shoulders sagging. He looks torn, and you can't quite figure out what's going on in his head.

"Echo, if you're not into it, that's fine," you tell him, your voice softer. "I'm not trying to pressure you. I just wanted you to know that I'm interested."

He nods slowly, his eyes still trained on yours. There's a wariness there, and for a moment, you’re certain he's going to reject you.

Instead, he slides off the stool and takes a step forward. You turn, your legs parting of their own accord, and he moves between them. He's so close that your knees are brushing his hips, and the contact sends a spark of anticipation through you.

"Let me make this clear," he says, leaning in, and his voice is a low, raspy whisper in your ear. "You don't know what you're getting into."

"Try me."

"You really wanna go down this road?"

"Absolutely.”

There's no hesitation. You've wanted this, wanted him, for longer than you're willing to admit, and now that it's within reach, there's no way in hell you're backing down.

Echo pulls back, but he doesn’t go far. His eyes are dark, the light gold overtaken by his pupils, and a hot wave of arousal shoots through you.

"Please," you add for good measure, the word a breathless whisper.

That seems to be the last straw. Echo lets out a heavy breath, and his hand comes up, cupping the back of your head. His fingers are digging into the strands of your hair, and you can't help but tip your head back a little, letting him feel the weight of your skull in his hand. His thumb traces a soft, slow line over the nape of your neck, and you shiver at the sensation.

"This is a bad idea," he says. His words are barely a murmur, and they send a warm thrill running through you.

"Yeah," you agree. You reach up and curl a hand around the back of his neck, stroking the sensitive skin with your thumb, and his eyes flutter closed. “Come back to the ship with me.”

“Kriff,” he mutters, his voice rough. He looks back at you, his eyes searching your face, and he lets out a frustrated huff.

Echo steps back, releasing his hold on your head, and you hold your breath as you watch him. You wait for him to leave, to walk away from you, but he just reaches for his drink and finishes it, his eyes never leaving yours. When he's done, he sets the empty glass on the counter and holds his hand out.

"Let's go."

You can't help the way your face lights up at the words. You finish the last of your drink and take his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. You weave through the crowd, the two of you practically joined at the hip, his hand still grasping yours tightly.

"Do you want to let the others know we're leaving?"

"Nah," Echo says. He doesn't turn to look at you, his eyes fixed ahead as he pulls you along. "They're too busy having a good time."

"But—"

"Stitches.”

He glances over his shoulder, giving you a sharp look. The intensity in his gaze, the hunger, is enough to send a rush of heat through your body, and you swallow.

"Oh," you say, the word almost a gasp. 

Echo gives you a little smile, and his hand slips away from yours. For a moment, the loss is nearly overwhelming, and then his fingers skim over your lower back. They trace a slow line down to your hip, and his hand settles there, guiding you through the crowd. The touch is light, gentle, but it's the possessiveness of it that sends a shiver up your spine.

When the two of you step through the doors and into the night air, he lets his hand slip lower, until it's resting just above the swell of your ass. You're not sure if the motion is intentional or not, but it sets a fire alight in you, and you have to resist the urge to press back against his palm or try to coax him to move lower.

You slow down. "So, uh, are we gonna—"

"Walk and talk," Echo says, cutting you off with a gentle push forward. His voice is low, and there's an authoritative edge to it that makes your knees feel weak. "The others will notice that we're gone eventually. We don't have a lot of time."

"Okay," you say, nodding. The two of you walk quickly through the city, and you're grateful for the fresh air. It clears your head a fraction, enough that the buzz of the alcohol has started to fade, and you're left with a sharp clarity.

The silence between the two of you is tense, but it's not uncomfortable. It feels charged, full of energy, and you're keenly aware of his hand on your lower back. His fingers are splayed out, his hand spanning the width of your waist, and his thumb is tracing a slow line over the fabric of your shirt.

It's driving you crazy, and you can't help the way you arch your back, pushing into the pressure. You feel his grip tighten, and you bite your lip, fighting back a moan.

Echo lets out a small chuckle. "Someone's eager."

"I thought we’ve established that already,” you reply. You let a bit of a whine slip into your voice, and when he looks over, his eyes are wide.

"Are you always like this?" he asks.

"Like what?"

"This..." he trails off, gesturing with his scomp, and his face flushes a light pink. "Teasing."

"Only when I want someone."

Echo doesn't say anything in response. He just nods and keeps walking, but you don't miss the way his grip tightens a little, or the way he starts moving faster.

The moment the two of you are through the hatch of the Marauder, Echo slams his palm on the control panel, shutting the door behind him. The ship goes dark as you stand a few feet apart, staring at each other. 

Echo leans against the wall, settling back with a considering look on his face, and he crosses his arms. He’s lit by the light coming through the window, and the pale glow makes him look otherworldly.

"Well?" you prompt, raising an eyebrow.

"Come here."

His voice is quiet, and you can barely hear him over the pounding of your heart. But the tone leaves no room for argument, and you can't help but comply. You step forward, moving slowly, and Echo's eyes track your movements. 

You stop when your shoes are a few inches from his, and you tilt your head, looking up at him. You can feel the heat radiating off of him, and it's taking every ounce of self-control not to touch him.

"What do you want from me?" he asks.

"I—"

"No," he says. His hand and scomp come up, settling on your hips, and the motion pushes the two of you together. He's so close that you can feel his breath on your face, and the warmth of his body is burning through the layers of your clothing. "Don't think about it. Tell me."

Your eyes dart down to his lips, and he doesn't miss the movement. His lips quirk upward, and his thumb rubs gentle, slow circles on the fabric of your shirt.

"I want—" you break off, hesitating, and Echo gives your hip a squeeze. The pressure is light, but it's enough to get you to focus.

"I want this. I want you," you say, the words tumbling out in a rush. You take a breath and meet his eyes. "But I want you to know that I'm not just doing this because it's convenient, or because I'm bored. I'm doing this because I like you, Echo. I have for a long time."

Echo doesn't speak, and for a moment, the only sound is the gentle hum of the ship around you. His eyes search your face, as though trying to determine if you're being truthful, and you watch as the hard edge of his expression softens, replaced by something softer, something hopeful.

"You really mean that, don't you?"

"Yeah," you reply. You feel a wave of relief at his words, and you can't help the grin that spreads across your face.

"How long?"

"I don't know," you answer honestly. You take a step closer, until there's no more space between the two of you. He doesn't move, but you can see the way his breath catches, and you can feel the way his hand tightens on your hip.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because you weren't ready," you say. You take a deep breath, and the motion makes his eyes drop to your mouth again. "I wanted to wait until you were ready. So I just want you to know, this isn’t—I mean, it's not just a fling, or anything. I want this to mean something."

"Good," he says quietly. "Me too."

You can't help the sigh of relief that escapes your lips. "Thank fuck."

Echo's lips twitch, and he ducks his head. The tips of his ears are a bit pink, and his shoulders are shaking a little.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing," he says, looking back up. There's a soft smile on his face, and it makes your stomach flutter. "I just—you're really cute, you know that?"

"Am I?"

"Yeah," he replies, and his fingers start tracing patterns on your hip. The feeling is a light, tickling sensation, and you can't help the way your body shifts a bit, moving closer.

“Is that a good thing?” you ask.

"Depends," he says, and the way he parrots your words makes you laugh. He smiles and adds, "And I’m a little relieved. I don't do flings."

"Then why'd you agree to come back here with me?"

"Because I trust you," he says. "And because I want you. More than I've wanted anyone in a long time. Maybe ever."

"Yeah?"

Echo nods, his eyes never leaving yours. You're both close, and you can feel the tension building between the two of you. He's not holding back anymore, and his expression is open, his emotions plain on his face. The butterflies in your stomach kick up, fluttering wildly. Echo reaches up, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. He tucks it behind your ear, and the contact is gentle, tender. His fingers brush against the sensitive shell, and the feeling is so delicate, so soft, that it sends a shiver through you.

"Yeah."

You nod, a smile spreading across your face. "Okay, then."

"Okay."

He's smiling now too, and the sight is almost too much. You've seen him smile plenty of times before, but this one is different, and it takes your breath away. His fingers skim over the curve of your jaw, and when they reach your chin, he tilts it up, angling your face towards his. Your lips part, and you suck in a quick breath.

"So," he says, his voice quiet. His eyes drop to your mouth, and he pauses for a moment, just staring. His tongue darts out, swiping over his lips, and when his gaze flicks back up to meet yours, his pupils are blown. "What do you want me to do?"

You hesitate, the words sticking in your throat. You're not quite sure how to answer the question. It's a little hard to form words when his thumb is brushing over the soft, sensitive skin of your chin.

"Don't get shy on me now," Echo murmurs. "Come on, tell me."

"I want—" You break off, swallowing. Your throat feels dry, and you try again. "I want you to kiss me."

His mouth curls up into a smirk. "You can do better than that."

"Kriff, Echo, just—"

His grip on your chin tightens a fraction, and you force yourself to swallow and try again, more confidence in your voice. "I want you to fuck me. I want you to take what you want. I want you to make me feel good. Is that enough for you?"

Echo's smirk melts away, and his lips part, his breath coming out in a quick huff. His eyes are fixed on your mouth, and his pupils are dilated, his irises just a thin ring of gold around the edges.

"Fuck," he mutters, and his eyes flicker back up to meet yours. There's an intensity to his gaze that sends a shiver through you, and the feeling is only heightened when his thumb traces the edge of your bottom lip, his touch light.

"So what do you think?" you ask, unable to keep a hint of amusement from creeping into your voice.

Echo shakes his head, his brow furrowed, and you can't help the way your lips curve into a grin. His gaze darts back down to your mouth, and his own lips twitch. When he speaks, his voice is low and husky.

"I knew it."

"Knew what?"

"That you'd be like this," he says. There's a teasing note in his voice, but the look on his face is serious, and you can't help the shiver that runs through you.

"You've been thinking about it?" you ask softly.

"Yeah, I have," he mutters, and then he's moving. He grips your waist, lifting you, his scomp arm sliding underneath your ass, and he turns, pressing you against the wall. The sudden motion and the cool metal at your back sends a rush of adrenaline through you, tearing a sound from your lips.

"I've been thinking about it too," you admit, wrapping your legs around his waist. You're clinging to him, and you can't stop the way you're moving your hips, rubbing against him.

"You have, huh?"

"Yeah," you breathe. "You have no idea."

He makes a sound, a cross between a laugh and a groan. He closes his eyes, and his head falls forward, his forehead pressing against yours.

"I've been driving myself crazy," he mutters, his voice thick with desire. "Just wondering."

"Is that why you've been staring at me?"

He huffs a quiet laugh, and he lifts his head, a rueful smile on his face. "You noticed."

"It was hard not to." You grin, leaning back a fraction, and his grip on your hip tightens, his fingers digging into the fabric of your pants. "Especially when I was trying to catch you."

He lets out a frustrated sigh, and he presses you against the wall, his hips grinding into yours. The pressure is firm and steady, and you can't stifle the moan that slips out.

"You are cruel," he says, and there's a note of wonder in his voice.

"So are you," you shoot back, rocking your hips against him. "All that eye-fucking."

"Eye-fucking," he repeats, letting out a short laugh. "That's what you're calling it?"

"It's accurate."

He lets out another quiet chuckle, his body shaking a fraction, and the motion sends a shiver up your spine.

"I just had to figure it out," he explains. "I had to make sure."

In the dim light, it's hard to see the details of his face, but you can't miss the heat in his eyes, or the flush that colors his cheeks. You can't help the soft laugh that escapes your lips, and you reach up, letting the backs of your fingers trace over his jaw.

"I didn't mind," you say softly. "I've been watching you, too."

Echo hums, a soft, thoughtful sound, his eyes searching your face. "Watching me, huh?"

"Of course," you say. You lean forward, brushing your lips over the sensitive shell of his ear. You can feel him tense against you, and when you drag the tip of your tongue along the delicate flesh, he sucks in a sharp breath. "And I've liked what I've seen."

"Fuck," he breathes, and you can feel him shudder. "Do that again."

You oblige, pressing another kiss to his ear, and this time, you let your teeth scrape over the delicate skin. He lets out a low moan, and his hips roll forward, grinding against yours.

"Kriff, that feels good," he groans, and the sound goes straight to your core. "Keep going."

You nip at the soft skin, and when his hips roll again, you grind down, pushing back. The friction is delicious, and the motion makes him gasp, his eyes fluttering shut. Your mouth trails along his jaw, and his skin is soft under your lips. You kiss a slow path along the edge, and when you reach his chin, you nip the skin, making him jerk his hips again.

"Fuck, you're—" he breaks off with a groan, his head falling back as you trail a series of kisses down his neck.

"I'm what?" your murmur, tracing a line of kisses underneath his jaw.

"You're gonna be the death of me," he manages. His head falls forward, and his mouth crashes into yours.

It's not a gentle kiss. It's messy, a little desperate, and when his tongue licks into your mouth, you can't help the whimper that escapes your lips. He tastes like spice and smoke, and he's kissing you with an intensity that makes your head spin.

You let go of his neck, and your hands move to his chest, tracing over the hard planes. His lips move frantically against yours, his scomp underneath your ass encouraging the motion of your hips, and his hand roams over your body everywhere he can reach. He grabs your waist, squeezing the soft flesh of your hip, running up your ribs and skimming over your stomach before drifting back down. He cups your ass, grabbing a fistful of the flesh and tugging you closer, until there's not an inch of space between the two of you.

You can't help but moan, and the sound seems to spur him on. He lets out a low groan and pulls away, leaving a trail of biting kisses along the line of your jaw, down your throat. His mouth is hot and wet against your skin, and he nips the sensitive flesh, soothing the sting with his tongue.

"Echo," you gasp. "Bed, please. Now."

He nods before his mouth finds yours again. The kiss is sloppy and deep, his tongue sliding against yours, and you can't help the moan that escapes your lips as he pulls away. Echo steps back and sets you on your feet, steadying you with his scomp when your knees wobble.

"Come on," he murmurs. He takes a step forward, backing you toward the bunks, and his gaze doesn't leave yours as he navigates the small space.

His bunk is only a few steps away, and when you reach it, Echo stills. He turns you, guiding you until you're facing the bed, your back to him. You can feel the warmth of his body behind you, the press of his armor against your back.

"Take off your shirt," he says, his voice low in your ear. His scomp is a firm weight on your hip, keeping you still, and his other hand drifts over your side, ghosting over your ribs.

You reach for the hem of your shirt and tug it over your head, letting it fall to the ground. Echo deftly unhooks your bra, sliding the straps down your arms, and you toss it on top of your shirt. He presses a soft, gentle kiss to the back of your neck, and his hand slides up your waist.  You're not sure when he took the glove off his hand, but his fingers are tracing a slow, languid path, his calluses sending little tingles over your skin.

"Take off your pants," he says. The words are quiet, almost reverent, and his fingers brush over the soft swell of your breast.

You follow his command, taking off your boots and socks before you slide the pants down your legs. Your underwear is last, and the thin material is soaked through, the damp fabric clinging to the sensitive flesh.

When you turn back around, he's watching you with a look of open desire. His eyes are dark and heated, and the way they drag over your body, taking in the sight of your naked form, sends a flush spreading over your skin.

"You're overdressed," you say, and there's a teasing edge to your voice.

Echo doesn't answer, just gives you a heated look before turning his attention to his armor. He removes it piece by piece, until the only thing left is his blacks. The fabric clings to his body, outlining the hard planes of muscle and the sharp angles of his shoulders. You can't help but watch him, taking in the sight of him, and the longer you stare, the more he seems to relax.

"Enjoying the show?" he asks, his mouth quirking in a smile.

"Yes," you say honestly. "Very much."

"Good," he says, and he lifts his scomp, making a twirling motion. "Turn around."

You obey, turning back around, and out of the corner of your eye, you see him smile.

"Now bend over," he says, and the words send a bolt of heat straight to your core. "Hands on the bunk."

"Echo—"

"Trust me," he murmurs, and the words send a shiver down your spine. "It'll be worth it."

You nod, and slowly bend at the waist. You brace yourself, leaning forward and resting your weight on your forearms. The position leaves you vulnerable, and you can't help the way a hot, tingling blush creeps over your skin.

"Good," Echo murmurs. His hand slides over your hip, and he gives it a light squeeze before trailing his fingers over the curve of your ass.

"Are you—"

"Don't move," he says, and the words send a jolt of heat straight through you. He's standing so close, his body nearly pressed against yours, and the warmth of his body is seeping into you, heating your skin. "Just let me take care of you."

He steps back, and you can't help but squirm, trying to follow him. "But—"

"What did I just say?" he asks, and the tone of his voice makes your core clench.

"Echo," you whine, and your voice is a bit higher than usual. You can't help the way the heat creeps into your face, or the way your stomach flutters.

"What did I say?" he repeats. He reaches up and brushes his fingers over the curve of your ass, his touch feather-light.

"Don't move."

"Good girl," he says. You hear him drop to his knees behind you, and his hand slides over the curve of your ass. He grabs a handful of the flesh, squeezing it, and the pressure is enough to make your hips jerk.

"Stay still," he says, his voice low and firm. "You know the rules."

"Yeah," you breathe, a bit breathless. "I'll be good."

Echo doesn't say anything, but his thumb rubs a slow, soothing circle over the soft skin. His hand slips from your ass and comes up to the junction of your thighs. He traces the crease where your leg meets your ass, and his fingers brush over the sensitive skin.

"Open your legs," he murmurs, his breath hot on the skin of your inner thigh. "Wider."

You obey, widening your stance, and when you do, he lets out a low hum of approval.

"Just like that," he says. His scomp rests on your hip, steading you as his fingers dip between your thighs. They drag over the sensitive folds, spreading the slick arousal coating your core. The touch is light, teasing, and it's barely enough to satisfy the ache building inside you.

"Kriff, Echo," you groan, and your voice is a bit shaky. "Please, don't—"

"Don't what?" he asks. His hand stills, and he doesn't move, his fingers barely touching the heated flesh.

"Don't tease me," you beg, and the words come out a bit strangled.

"You like it, though," he says. He leans forward, his tongue darting out and dragging a slow, wet line up your core. The feeling makes your hips jerk, and the muscles of your abdomen clench. "Don't you?"

"Yes," you gasp, and the word comes out a bit ragged. You can feel your walls clenching around nothing, desperate for any kind of friction, and the tension is nearly unbearable.

"Then let me," he says, and his voice is a low, raspy murmur. "Let me make this good for you."

He ducks his head again, and his tongue is hot and slick as it drags through your folds, the tip just barely dipping inside your entrance. He repeats the motion, his tongue teasing the sensitive flesh, and the feeling makes your hips buck. His scomp is firm on your hip, preventing you from moving too far, and you can't quite decide if the lack of control is maddening or exhilarating.

"Echo," you whine, and the sound is a plaintive, pleading noise.

He doesn't answer. His thumb and scomp move, his thumb spreading the swollen lips of your pussy, and his scomp helps holds them apart, giving him better access. The motion leaves you exposed, the cool air of the ship caressing the heated flesh, and the feeling makes a shiver run down your spine.

"Look at you," he murmurs. He lets out a low, satisfied sound, and you can't help the way you push into his touch. "So eager."

He dips his head and his tongue slides over your core, tracing a slow, torturous line to your clit. When he reaches it, he presses a wet, open-mouthed kiss to the throbbing bud. The feeling is almost too much, and your hips buck, trying to get away from the sensation.

"No, no, no," he says. "None of that."

His hand grips your hip, holding you still as he teases the bundle of nerves with his tongue. He traces circles around it, and when he sucks it into his mouth, the feeling makes your legs tremble.

"Oh, fuck," you moan, and your hands curl into fists, clutching at the blankets.

"Do you like that?"

"Yes," you gasp. "Feels good."

He hums, the vibration making your legs shake. "How about this?"

You suck in a breath as he presses his tongue flat against your clit, his lips wrapped around the throbbing bundle. His tongue strokes the sensitive flesh, and when he slides a finger inside you, your vision blurs.

"Oh, fuck, yes," you groan. "Yes, yes, please, just like that."

"Good," he says. His voice is a low rasp, and it makes heat pool in your belly. "You're doing so good for me."

Your walls clench around his finger, drawing him deeper, and he starts a slow, torturous pace, working his finger in and out of your dripping cunt.

"Please," you pant. "More. I need more."

"Like this?" he asks. He slides a second finger along with the first, stretching the delicate tissue. The burn is delicious, and it feels so good, the way his fingers fill you up. His mouth is hot and slick against you, and his tongue is dragging over the hard bud of your clit. His fingers thrust slowly, the motion gentle, and his scomp is holding you still, keeping you from pushing back against him. 

The way he's forcing you to stay still, to let him do as he pleases, is sending a hot, tingling flush spreading over your skin. Your eyes squeeze shut, and your breath is coming in short, shallow pants, your entire body wound tight.

"Do you like that?" Echo murmurs, his lips brushing against the soft skin of your inner thigh.

"Yes," you manage. You can feel the heat rising inside you, the tension building in your belly, and your toes are starting to curl. "So much."

"Good girl," he says, and the words send a wave of warmth rushing through you. "You're being so good for me."

"Thank you," you pant. "Feels so good."

He hums in response as his scomp leaves your hip, and you feel the cold, metal appendage drag down the curve of your ass. It slides lower, until the tip of the metal is just barely pressing against the folds of your entrance. The feeling is foreign and strange, and the sensation makes you jerk.

"Is this okay?" he asks.

"Y-yes," you say. The sensation is unfamiliar, and the feeling of the cool metal against your core is making your muscles twitch. "Keep going."

He slides lower through your wet folds, and the motion is slow and deliberate. It's not like his fingers or his tongue, not quite the same. It's harder, cooler, less yielding, but the contrast is delicious, and it's making your legs tremble.

"That feels..."

"Weird?" he asks, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

"Not bad," you manage, and the words come out a bit strangled. "Different. Good."

"You want more?"

"Yes," you groan. Your hands tighten in the blankets, and the heat is starting to creep up your spine. "Yes, please."

He doesn't reply, just slides his scomp back up through the folds again, this time a little harder. The metal is smooth, and the tip is cool against your clit. He drags it over the hard bud, and the feeling makes a jolt of electricity shoot through you.

"Echo," you gasp.

"Shh," he says. His mouth is hot against your thigh, and his lips press a wet, sucking kiss to the sensitive flesh. "Just relax. Let me take care of you."

You nod, and your eyes slip shut. Your hands clench in the sheets, and the feeling of his mouth, of his fingers, of his scomp, is enough to drive all thoughts from your mind. Your head falls forward, resting against the bunk, and you can't help the soft, desperate sounds that fall from your lips.

Echo keeps up a steady rhythm, his fingers thrusting as his scomp presses patterns over the throbbing bundle of nerves. You can feel the pressure inside you growing, building, and the tension is so intense that it makes your legs shake.

"Please," you beg. "I need—"

"Shh," he soothes. "I know what you need. I'll take care of you."

You whimper, your body shaking, and the tension inside you is nearly unbearable. He keeps up a slow, steady pace, and you can feel your orgasm coiling, tightening inside you.

"I need—"

"Let go," he murmurs. He curls his fingers, pressing the tips against the bundle of nerves hidden inside you, and the feeling is enough to send you hurtling over the edge.

Your body goes rigid, your back arching, and your eyes slam shut as your orgasm crashes through you. The sensation is intense, almost painful, and the tension in your muscles is so strong that it's hard to breathe.

Echo doesn't stop, doesn't even slow. He keeps up the slow, steady pace, and it feels like hours pass before the aftershocks subside, leaving you limp and sated. Your head is spinning, and your lungs are burning as you try to catch your breath. Your release is slick and sticky on your thighs, and Echo's tongue slides over your skin, lapping it up.

"You're perfect," he murmurs. He trails a series of kisses over the swell of your ass, the tip of his nose tracing the line of your spine. "So beautiful."

Finally, Echo pulls away. He removes his fingers, and the sudden emptiness makes you gasp. You collapse forward, unable to hold yourself up any longer, and the sheets are cool and soft against your face. You're dimly aware of Echo shifting, his arm slipping under you, lifting you off the bed. He sits on the edge, holding you against him, chest to chest, and your legs fall to either side of his thighs.

"You okay?" he asks, his voice a low, husky whisper.

"I think so," you mumble. Your head is still spinning, and your limbs feel heavy, a pleasant lassitude spreading through your body. "Just need a minute."

Echo doesn't answer, just nods. He reaches up, brushing your hair away from your face. His fingertips trail over the shell of your ear, and the contact sends a shiver down your spine.

"You were so good," he murmurs. "Such a good girl."

The praise makes a hot flush spread over your cheeks, and you turn your face, hiding it in the crook of his neck.

"Don't," you mumble, the word muffled by his blacks.

"Don't what?" he asks. There's a note of amusement in his voice, and you know without looking that he's smiling.

"Don't tease me."

"But you liked it," he says. His arm tightens around your waist, and his other hand slides into your hair, gently cradling the back of your head. "And I meant every word."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he says, and his hand moves, cupping your cheek. His thumb brushes over the soft skin, and he tilts your head up, leaning down to brush his lips against yours.

The kiss is soft and sweet, a gentle brush of lips, and it's almost enough to make your heart stop. Your hands move, reaching up and fisting in his blacks, and you pull him closer. You can taste yourself on his lips, the tangy-sweet flavor a sharp contrast to the lingering sweetness of the liquor.

When you pull away, the look on his face makes your heart skip a beat.

"You're staring," you murmur.

"Yeah," he says. He runs a thumb over the swell of your bottom lip, and the touch is soft, reverent. "You're beautiful."

"Flattery will get you everywhere."

"Good to know," he says, grinning.

You smile and reach up, tracing the line of his jaw. His skin is warm and soft under your fingers, and the stubble is a rough contrast to the smoothness of his cheek.

"I could stare at you forever," he says.

"I'm sure there's something else you'd rather be doing," you say, grinning.

"Maybe," he says. His eyes flick over your face, searching. "What about you? What would you rather be doing?"

"You," you say, and his lips twitch in a smile.

"Now who's the flatterer?"

"It's not flattery," you say, and his eyes are bright, the gold flecks in them glowing in the dim lighting. "I want you, Echo. More than I've wanted anyone in a long time."

"So what are we waiting for?" he asks.

"What, you don't want me to return the favor?" you tease, running a hand over his shoulder.

"I'd love that," he says, and his voice is a low rasp, his breath hot against your skin. "But later. Right now, I just want you."

"Well," you say, trailing your hand down his chest. "I'm not stopping you."

Echo smiles and leans down, his mouth finding yours. The kiss is soft, almost tentative, and it sends a bolt of heat straight through you. His lips are gentle against yours, and when his tongue traces the seam, you part for him.

The kiss deepens, and his tongue slides against yours, the slick, velvety muscle stroking yours. You can't help the soft, breathy sound that escapes your lips, and when his teeth nip at your bottom lip, your hands tighten in his blacks.

He lets out a soft grunt, his arm tightening around your waist, and he shifts, the movement rocking his hips forward. The friction makes a soft gasp escape your lips, and you can't help the way you press closer.

"Come on," you murmur, kissing a path along his jaw. You nip the skin, and his hips roll again, pushing up.

"Fuck, wait," he breathes. "Let me—"

You bite down, and his head falls back, exposing the column of his throat. You lean forward, nipping the skin, and the sound he makes is like a prayer.

"Come on," you say again, your teeth dragging over the skin.

"Kriff, wait," he groans, and his scomp is cool against the small of your back. "Just a second."

You pause, pulling away and looking at him.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he says, his breathing a bit ragged. "I just—it's been a while, okay?"

"A while?"

"Yeah," he says, and he's blushing, his cheeks turning a faint shade of pink. "A long while."

"So?"

"So," he says. He glances down at his lap, then back at you. "It's gonna be over embarrassingly fast if you keep doing that."

"Doing what?" you ask, unable to keep the grin from spreading across your face. "This?"

You lean forward, pressing a kiss to the soft skin just below his ear, and the action makes him suck in a breath. His hand comes up, sliding into your hair, and he guides you to the juncture of his neck and shoulder, his fingers tightening. You can't help the satisfied smile that crosses your face, and when you nip the tender skin, his hips buck, grinding against you.

"Come on," you whisper. You let your tongue slide over the skin, and his hand flexes in your hair. "You don't have to worry about me."

"That's not the point," he mutters, and his hand slides from your hair to grip your hip. "I want you to have fun."

"And I am," you murmur. You drag the tip of your tongue along the line of his throat, and the motion makes him groan. "Trust me, I'm having plenty of fun."

"You're not worried about—about..."

"About what?" you ask. "About finishing early? About getting off and leaving me hanging?"

"Yeah," he admits, his voice low. "Something like that."

"Why would I be? You already made me come," you say with a smile. "That was fun, remember?"

"Yeah," he says. His scomp slides over the curve of your ass, pulling you closer.

"Then why don't you let me have some more fun?" you murmur. You rock your hips forward, and the motion makes him groan. "Come on. Let me take care of you."

"Are you—"

"If I say it's fine, it's fine," you say. You press a line of kisses down his neck, pausing to nip the soft skin. "Stop worrying and just enjoy yourself."

"That's—"

"Easy for you to say," you finish, and he huffs out a breath.

"Come on," you murmur, nipping the skin. "Let go."

He doesn't say anything, just tugs your hips forward, grinding you against him. You can't help the soft gasp that slips past your lips, and the feel of him, even through the fabric, is delicious.

"Just like that," you whisper, your lips brushing over his jaw.

Echo rolls his hips again, and the friction is delicious. The pressure is almost too much, but his grip on you is tight, preventing you from pulling away. His mouth finds yours, his tongue sliding past your lips, and he licks into your mouth with a slow, wet slide. The kiss is messy and frantic, his tongue tracing the edges of your lips, the tip flicking over the roof of your mouth.

You moan at the feeling of his mouth on yours, the way he's taking what he wants, and the sound seems to spur him on. He surges forward, your back hitting the bed, and his body follows, covering yours. He braces himself, his weight on his elbows, his mouth never leaving yours. His tongue delves deeper, and the kiss is hard and messy, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip.

"You feel so good," he groans, his lips brushing over the soft skin. "Can I—"

"Yes," you interrupt, and he lets out a soft laugh.

"At least let me ask," he says. "It's polite."

"You’ve been very polite," you say. Your fingers trace over his ribs, and his abs clench beneath the soft touch. "But please, don't hold back anymore."

Echo pulls away, and the look on his face is enough to send a hot, tingling blush spreading over your cheeks. He's watching you with a mix of awe and desire, as his hand reaches down, fumbling with the clasp of his blacks.

"Do you need some help?" you tease, grinning.

"No," he says. His tone is firm, almost commanding, and the sound makes your stomach flip.

Echo finally manages to unclasp the garment, and his hand falls away, letting the blacks hang loose around his hips. He tugs them down, revealing the hard planes of his stomach, the sharp cut of his hips, and he slides off the bed and stands, kicking them away.

When he turns back to face you, his thumb hooks into the waistband of his briefs, and his eyes meet yours.

"You okay?" he asks.

"Are you seriously asking that question?"

"Just checking," he says. He hesitates, and the expression on his face is almost shy. "I'm not... I mean, I don't look like—"

"Echo, if you don't get your ass back over here and fuck me, I'm going to scream," you say, and he snorts.

"Alright, alright," he says. He tugs the briefs down his legs, and when his cock is free, it bobs, slapping against his abdomen. You try not to stare, but the sight of him is enough to make your core clench.

Your eyes widen, and the words die on your lips.

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"Uh-huh."

Echo steps closer, and the movement makes his cock bob again. The shaft is long and thick, the head a deep, dusky red, and the sight makes your mouth go dry. He's leaking, and when he gives himself a quick stroke, a bead of precum dribbles down the head, making the soft skin glisten.

"Fuck, you're pretty," you say, and his cheeks turn a faint shade of pink.

"You're one to talk," he murmurs, his gaze flicking over you. "I could stare at you all night."

You blush and shift, pulling your legs together. "I bet you say that to all the girls."

"No," he says, his voice soft. "Just you."

Your breath catches, and for a moment, neither of you speak.

"I should, uh, get a—"

"I have an implant,” you say, and he nods, swallowing.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you murmur. "If you're good with it, I'm good with it."

"Yeah," he breathes, and his gaze is dark, heated. "Yeah, okay."

He hesitates for a moment before grabbing the neck of his blacks, and with a quick motion, he pulls the shirt off, dropping it onto the pile. You can't help the way your eyes roam over his body, taking in the sight of him.

His muscles are defined and well-defined, his arms and shoulders corded with lean muscle. The planes of his chest and abdomen are sharp, the lines of his muscles standing out in sharp relief under the scars that spread across his skin, and you can't stop yourself from reaching out and tracing a line over his ribs. You’re pleased to see he’s put on weight, the bones not so prominent, and there are some soft edges where there were none before.

He's beautiful, and for a moment, you're struck dumb by the sight of him. 

Echo watches you, and the longer you stare, the more his muscles twitch, his nerves clearly getting the best of him.

"Sorry, you're just—you're really hot," you say. "It's a bit intimidating."

He lets out a soft huff of laughter, and his cheeks flush.

"Yeah, right," he says. He climbs onto the bunk and crawls toward you, his eyes locked on yours. When he reaches you, he settles himself between your legs, his forearms resting on either side of your head.

"If anyone's intimidated, it's me."

"Why's that?"

"Have you seen yourself?" he murmurs. He leans down, brushing his lips against yours. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

The words make your heart stutter, and you reach up, cupping his cheek. "You're just saying that because you want to get laid."

"I'm just saying it because it's true," he says, and the words are a quiet whisper against your lips.

He dips his head, and his mouth finds yours again. You can't help the soft moan that escapes, and the sound makes Echo's hips rock against yours. His cock brushes against your thigh, a warm, velvety weight, and the feel of him sends a wave of heat crashing through you.

Echo breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged. His hips move again, and this time, his cock drags against the folds of your core.

"What do you want?" he asks, his nose brushing over the swell of your cheek. "Tell me."

"You," you say, and your hands slide over his shoulders, clutching at his back. "Inside me. Now."

Echo doesn't answer, just shifts, sliding the thick head of his cock through the slick arousal coating your folds. When the tip brushes against the bundle of nerves nestled between the swollen flesh, your hips jerk, and a soft whine slips past your lips.

"Come on," you whisper, and your voice is a breathless, needy whimper. "Just—"

"Shh," he murmurs, his mouth finding yours. "I've got you."

He reaches down, gripping the base of his cock and guiding the head to your entrance. He doesn't move, doesn't thrust, just lets the tip rest there, a heavy weight against your core. The anticipation is almost too much, and you can feel the slick, heated flesh throb, clenching around nothing.

"Gods, Echo," you breathe. "Don't tease."

"You like it," he says, and his hand slides over your thigh, his fingers wrapping around your knee. He pulls it up, spreading you open, and his hips shift, his cock bumping your clit.

"Kriff, come on," you gasp, your back arching. "Don't—"

He doesn't wait for you to finish, just pushes forward. His cock is thick, the stretch almost too much, and the sudden feeling makes a soft, keening cry slip past your lips. He stills, and you can feel him trembling, the muscles in his shoulders quivering.

"Fuck, you're tight," he chokes out. "Just—hold still for a second."

You nod, and Echo lets out a shuddering breath, his head falling forward. His forehead presses against your shoulder, and his eyes slip shut. His hips twitch, and the motion makes his cock sink another inch inside you, the stretch making a soft whine slip past your lips.

"Shit," he breathes. "You're—I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," you gasp.

He nods and shifts his hips, sliding a few inches deeper. His cock is thick and heavy, and the feeling of him stretching you is almost too much. The fullness is almost painful, but there's something delicious about the burn, and you can't help the way you twitch, trying to get closer.

"Fuck," he groans, and the word comes out strangled. "How are you so kriffing tight?"

"Sorry," you gasp. "Been a while."

"You're going to kill me," he murmurs, and his hips push forward again, the movement a slow, steady slide. "Just—fuck, you feel so good."

His words make a bolt of heat shoot through you, and the tension inside you is nearly unbearable. You can't help the way a soft whimper slips past your lips, and the sound makes his hips jerk, his cock sinking deeper.

"Shh," he whispers, his breath hot against your shoulder. His hand tightens on your knee, and the motion spreads you wider, allowing him to sink deeper. "I'll take care of you."

"Come on," you plead. Your hands slide over his back, the skin damp with sweat, and you can feel the muscles tense and relax under your touch. "I can take it."

"I know you can," he says, and his scomp strokes the curve of your hip. "You're being so good for me. Taking me so well."

The praise makes a shiver run down your spine, and his hips thrust again, pushing forward until he's buried to the hilt. The feeling is intense, the stretch a delicious ache, and your legs fall to either side, spreading to accommodate him.

"That's it," he murmurs. "Good girl."

You can't help the way the words make your core clench, and the feeling makes his breath catch.

"You like that, huh?" he asks, his mouth moving against the hollow of your throat. "Being told what a good girl you are?"

"Echo," you whine.

"Yeah," he breathes. "You do."

He lifts his head and kisses you, his tongue sliding against yours. The kiss is slow, languid, and his hand is gentle as he cups your cheek. His thumb strokes over your skin, the touch almost reverent, and the sweetness is such a stark contrast to the way he's buried deep inside you that it makes your head spin.

"Fuck, Echo," you gasp, the words muffled against his lips.

"So good for me," he says. His hand leaves your face and moves to your leg, pulling your knee up and pressing it toward your chest. Your ankle rests on his shoulder, and the position allows him to push deeper, his hips grinding against yours.

The new angle makes him slide against a spot hidden deep inside you, and the sudden rush of sensation makes your toes curl.

"Oh, fuck," you gasp. "Right there."

"Here?" he murmurs. He repeats the motion, his hips rolling against yours, and the feeling is so intense that your vision blurs.

"Yeah," you manage through a choked sob.

"That's it," he soothes, and his hand strokes the side of your thigh. "You're doing so good for me."

His hand moves from your leg to the bunk, and his weight presses down on you, his body covering yours. His movements are slow and deliberate, his hips grinding against yours. Each thrust is a steady, rolling grind, and the pressure is so intense that it takes everything in you not to break apart.

"Good girl," he murmurs, and his mouth finds yours. The kiss is messy, a contrast of hard and soft, and when his teeth nip at your bottom lip, the sharp pinch is a delicious counterpoint to the sweetness.

His hand leaves the bunk and slides into your hair, fisting the soft strands and holding you still. The grip is firm, but not rough, and the sensation is strangely erotic, sending a rush of heat coursing through you.

"Harder," you gasp, and he obeys, snapping his hips forward hard enough to punch the breath from your lungs. The new pace is harder, faster, and the slap of flesh against flesh is loud in the quiet of the ship.

"Fuck," he groans. "You feel so fucking good."

You don't reply, just moan, and his hand tightens in your hair. His teeth graze the line of your jaw, and the sudden bite of pain is so sharp and delicious that it makes your vision blur.

"God, yes," you groan. "Harder."

He lets out a soft grunt and thrusts forward, the force of the movement making the bunk creak. You can't help the strangled cry that slips past your lips, and the noise seems to spur him on, his hips driving against yours with a force that has the bed shaking.

"Echo," you gasp, and the word comes out in a desperate, keening whine. "Please, I need—"

"I know what you need," he whispers, and his hand falls away from your hair to brace himself above you. His scomp leaves your hip and trails between your bodies, the smooth, cool metal sliding over the sensitive bud of your clit. "And I'll give it to you. You just have to trust me."

"I do," you gasp.

"Yeah?" he murmurs, and his mouth moves to your throat. His lips trail a path down the delicate skin, his tongue darting out to taste you. "You trust me?"

"Yes," you manage.

"Good," he says, his breath hot against your skin, and the tip of his scomp presses against the hard bud, circling slowly. "I'm going to make you come. Hard. And when you do, I'm going to fuck you until you're sobbing. Can you take that?"

The words send a thrill of electricity through you, and the tension inside you is so strong that it makes your legs shake.

"Can you?"

"Yes," you manage.

"Good girl," he says, and his teeth nip at the skin below your ear. His scomp moves faster, the motion a steady circle over the throbbing bundle of nerves, and you gasp when you feel it start to vibrate.

"Oh, fuck," you groan. Your back arches, pushing your breasts against his chest. "What—have you always—"

"No," he says, his voice strained. "Never used it for this. Just for you."

"That's—fuck, Echo, please," you beg. Your eyes are squeezed shut, the pleasure so intense that you can't think straight.

"You like that?" he murmurs, and the vibration gets a fraction stronger. The feeling makes a wave of heat wash over you, your muscles clenching and twitching, and your head falls back, resting on the mattress.

"Yes," you gasp.

"You're so close, aren't you?"

"Fuck, Echo," you choke out, and your nails dig into his back, scratching at the skin. He moans at the feeling, his hips driving faster, and the combination of sensations is enough to send you hurtling over the edge.

Your orgasm hits you like a bolt of lightning, and the intensity of it makes your legs spasm, the muscles twitching uncontrollably. You can't control the sounds that are coming from your mouth, desperate gasps and soft, choked sobs, and it's only the feeling of Echo's mouth on yours, kissing the noises away, that keeps you from screaming.

"Oh, fuck," he groans against your mouth. "Just like that. So good for me. Let me hear you."

The words are a whispered prayer against your lips, and the praise makes another wave of heat crash through you. Your core clenches around his cock, and the sensation is so exquisite that it makes tears sting the corners of your eyes. True to his word, he doesn't let up, and his scomp never stops, the vibrations against the sensitive nub sending sparks of electricity shooting through you.

"Please," you sob, and the words are barely audible. "Please, too much."

"One more," he pants. His breathing is ragged, and his thrusts are growing harder, his hips snapping against yours. "Give me one more. Can you do that for me?"

"I don't—I can't—"

"You can," he says. "I know you can. You're being such a good girl for me. Come on. Give me one more."

You nod, unable to speak, and Echo rewards you with a kiss, his tongue sliding against yours. His hips are moving faster, losing any pretense of control, his pelvis grinding against yours with each forward snap of his hips. His scomp circles your clit, and the feeling is so intense that your limbs go numb, a tingling sensation creeping up your spine. You can feel the pressure inside you building again, coiling, and the tension is so strong that it feels like you're going to fly apart.

"Oh, fuck," you gasp, and the words are muffled against his mouth.

"Yeah," he groans. His thrusts are rough, almost desperate, and the movement rocks the bunk. "That's it. You're doing so well. I'm going to make you come all over my cock."

"Please, Echo." Your hands grip his back so hard that you're afraid you're going to leave bruises, and you can feel his muscles tense and release, shifting under the thin layer of sweat-slick skin. "Please."

"I know," he says. His voice is low, husky, and his lips brush over the shell of your ear. "Come on, sweetheart. Be a good girl and come for me."

The words are your undoing. You can't hold back any longer, and with a loud cry, you tumble over the edge, falling headfirst into the blinding, white-hot pleasure that's coursing through you.

This time, your orgasm is too much to contain, and a scream rips from your throat, the sound echoing off the walls. Your back arches, and your legs twitch, a violent tremor wracking your frame as a hot flood of liquid spills from your core. The force of your release is enough to push Echo's cock from your body, and a wet gush follows, coating his stomach and dripping down your thighs.

"Oh, fuck," Echo chokes out. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, and his scomp falls away, slamming down beside your head, bracing himself. "Fuck, I'm—"

He doesn't finish the thought, just fumbles for his cock, gripping the base. It only takes a few quick strokes before he's coming, a loud groan escaping his lips. The first pulse hits your stomach, followed by a second, and a third, and the sensation makes a choked moan slip past your lips. He lets out a low groan, his hips twitching, and his cock dribbles the last few drops of his cum, painting a thick line over your skin.

Through your blurry vision, you see Echo's mouth is open, his eyes wide as he stares down at you, and the sight is so sweet, so genuine, that you can't help the breathless huff of laughter that slips past your lips.

"Kriff," he pants. His hand drops to the bunk, and he props himself up on trembling arms. The two of you stay frozen for a moment, chests heaving, your expressions a mirror of each other's shock.

"Fuck," Echo finally chokes out. "Are you okay?"

You nod, unable to form a coherent thought. You let your head fall back against the mattress, and the movement makes a drop of his cum run down your breast, dripping off the underside and falling to the sheets.

"Did I—"

"So good," you manage, and the words are a slurred mumble. He nods, swallowing, and then he turns, collapsing onto the bunk next to you. He lets out a noise somewhere between a groan and a laugh, and when you glance over, he has his forearm draped over his eyes, his chest still heaving.

"Fuck," he breathes. "Oh, fuck."

"What?" you ask. You try to shift, but the feeling of his cum cooling on your stomach and chest is a distracting, sticky sensation, and you're not entirely sure if your limbs are still attached.

"I, uh," he starts. Echo huffs out another small laugh as his arm falls away, and his head lolls to the side, his eyes finding yours. "That was the hottest thing I've ever seen. I don't even—you're—that was incredible."

"I can't feel my toes," you admit, and the confession makes him laugh.

"Yeah?"

"I'm serious," you say. "Like, are they still there? Is anything still there?"

He rolls onto his side, making a show of looking you over, and when his gaze lands on the mess covering your abdomen, he sucks in a sharp breath.

"Yeah," he murmurs, his eyes darkening. "They're still there. Everything's still there."

"You look smug," you say.

"Can't imagine why," he says, grinning. He reaches out, tracing a finger through the cooling mess on your skin, and the gentle caress makes a shiver run down your spine. "Fuck, look at you."

"Yeah?"

"You're a mess," he says, and he grins, leaning forward. He kisses you, his lips soft against yours, and when he pulls away, he looks a fraction more composed. "Let me clean you up."

Echo sits up, swinging his legs off the bed, and the movement makes his back muscles ripple, the motion a fluid, graceful flex of sinew and tendon. You can't help the way the sight makes your heart skip a beat, and you have the sudden urge to wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his back, to cling to him and never let him go.

"Are you okay?" he asks, looking over his shoulder at you. "Does anything hurt?"

"No," you say, shaking your head. "Everything feels... really good."

His answering grin is more self-satisfied than you're used to seeing, and the expression is so charming that you can't stop the affectionate roll of your eyes.

"Don't look so pleased with yourself," you tease.

"Hey," Echo says, getting to his feet. "I think I earned it."

"I guess so," you murmur, and he chuckles, shaking his head.

"Come here," he says, turning. He tugs you upright and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you against his chest. The sudden motion makes a laugh bubble up in your throat, and he flashes you a grin, his arms tightening around you. He leans down, his mouth finding yours, and the kiss is sweet and tender, his lips moving over yours with a languid, easy affection.

"What's gotten into you?" you ask when he pulls away.

"You," he smirks, tilting his head. "Or I got into you. Something like that."

"Oh, shut up," you laugh, and you shove his shoulder. He smiles, a wide, crooked grin that makes your heart stutter.

"Come on," he says. He pulls away, grabbing your hip and turning you around, guiding you toward the fresher. "Let's get you cleaned up."

"I can do it," you protest, but his arm wraps around your waist, holding you close.

"I know.” 

He doesn't elaborate, just steers you toward the fresher. You lean your hip against the sink while he turns on the shower, and you let him tug you inside, his scomp hooking the handle and closing the door behind the two of you. The water is cool, but it's not unpleasant, and the droplets feel nice against your heated skin.

Echo washes you with a gentleness that takes your breath away, and the tenderness is so at odds with the man you thought you knew. His touch is careful, almost reverent, and there's a quiet intensity in the way he traces the lines and angles of your body with his hand and his scomp, the movements slow and deliberate. He pays special attention to the space between your thighs, the touch firm but still gentle, and the sensation makes you bite back a whimper.

"Shh," he soothes, and his mouth finds the hollow of your throat. He kisses the delicate skin, and the gesture is so sweet that it makes your chest ache.

"Why are you doing this?" you whisper.

"Because I want to," he says, and his thumb swipes over the swell of your breast. "And because you deserve it."

"Deserve it?" you ask as his mouth trails up your neck.

"Yeah," he murmurs. His hand slides up your ribs, and his fingers cup your breast, the palm covering the soft, supple flesh. It's a gentle touch, almost absentminded, and the intimacy of the gesture is so startling that it makes your breath catch.

"Why would you say that?" you whisper.

"Because it's true," he says, and his mouth slides along your jaw, the kiss tender. "Because you deserve to be taken care of. Because I like taking care of you."

"You do?"

"I do," he says, and the words are spoken against the delicate skin just below your ear. "More than anything."

"But—"

"It's okay," he murmurs. "Stop overthinking."

You swallow and nod, and his touch is gentle as he finishes washing you. When you're both clean, Echo leaves you under the water to change the sheets, and you try to ignore the fact that your limbs are a bit unsteady without him. 

The water starts to turn cold, and you quickly shut it off, squeezing some of the excess water from your hair. You step out of the shower and grab a towel, and you smile to yourself when you see your sleep clothes folded on the edge of the sink, Echo's handiwork evident in the perfect creases. You dry off quickly, and you're just pulling on your shorts when you hear the sound of the hatch opening and a pair of heavy footsteps rushing up the ramp.

“Echo!” Wrecker shouts, his voice frantic. The floor shakes slightly under your feet as he comes to a stop, and the hatch slides shut with a metallic clang.

You freeze, the fabric halfway up your thighs, and a bolt of panic shoots through you.

You can hear Echo outside of the fresher, and the rustle of fabric as he tosses the soiled linens to the side, followed by a few muttered curses.

"What?" he finally calls, his tone annoyed.

"There you are," Wrecker says.

"Where else would I be?" Echo snaps, and you can hear him tugging his blacks over his head.

"Crosshair said he lost track of you," Wrecker says, and you hear him walk across the ship. "Thought maybe you were in trouble. And we can't find Stitches. Have you seen her? She disappeared, and she's not answering her comm."

Your eyes go wide, and your stomach drops. Oh, fuck.

"Uh," Echo says, and you hear him shuffling around, the sounds a lot closer than they were before. "Yeah, she's here. She's just, um, taking a shower."

"Oh," Wrecker says. There's a long pause, and you can picture the look on his face, the puzzled frown as he tries to process the information. You can almost hear the gears turning in his brain, and you wait, holding your breath.

"We, uh, decided to head back," Echo explains after the silence has dragged on for a bit too long.

"Together," Wrecker adds. It isn't a question, but the note of suspicion is obvious, and Echo doesn't miss it.

"Yeah," Echo says, his voice strained. He clears his throat. "We were, uh, really tired. We were having a good time, but the club was really loud, and we just..."

He trails off, and you let out a quiet groan and press a hand to your face. You're tempted to leave the fresher, to make your presence known and get the conversation over with, but you can't quite bring yourself to open the door.

"Oh," Wrecker says again, and the way the word is drawn out makes you wince. You can practically hear the grin in his voice, and you know he's figured it out. "You guys had a good time, huh?"

"I mean, not like that," Echo says quickly, and you grimace.

"Uh huh.”

"We were just talking, and we decided to head back, and she was, um, she was drunk, and I was tired, and we were just gonna hang out and watch a holo or something."

"Right," Wrecker says, his tone knowing. "What holo were you gonna watch?"

"It’s uh…” Echo trails off, and a moment later, he lets out a sigh of defeat. You can’t help but laugh at that, the sound loud enough to echo off of the tile.

"Hey Stitches,” Wrecker calls out in greeting, and you roll your eyes and open the door.

"Hi Wrecker," you say, leaning against the door frame.

"Did you have a good time?" he asks with a wide grin.

"Yeah," you say, and you can't help the way your eyes flick to Echo. "We had a really good time."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Echo echoes. His eyes meet yours, and the expression on his face is soft, a tiny smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. You smile back, unable to keep the happiness from welling up inside you.

"Yeah," you say. You can't help the way you feel yourself blush, the heat rising in your cheeks. "It was, uh, really good."

Wrecker's grin widens, and he glances at Echo, giving him a thumbs-up. Echo blushes, his cheeks turning pink, and his shoulders lift in a small shrug.

"That's good," Wrecker says, beaming. "I'm happy for you guys."

"Thanks, Wrecker," you laugh. "Sorry for making you worry."

"It's okay." He waves a hand. "I'm glad you two had a good time. It's about time."

"Wrecker," Echo groans, and Wrecker lets out a loud guffaw.

"What? I'm not wrong." He looks between the two of you, his smile growing wider. "We've all been rooting for you two. We were starting to get a little worried, honestly. I thought I was gonna have to lock you guys in a closet or somethin'."

Echo lets out a groan and buries his face in his hand, and the sight is so comical that you snort a laugh.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," you say dryly.

"Nah, don’t apologize.” Wrecker pauses, his expression thoughtful. "Well, actually, maybe apologize to Crosshair. He's not too happy about this, since it means he lost the bet."

"The bet?"

"Oh yeah," Wrecker says. "We had a running bet on when you guys would finally hook up. Crosshair thought it would take you until at least next month, so he's pretty pissed."

"You guys were betting on us?" you ask, aghast. Echo's hand slides down his face to cover his mouth, and in his eyes is a mixture of mortification and disbelief.

"Hey, don't look at me," Wrecker says, holding his hands up in defense. "I was for you two from the start. I had last month."

"For fuck's sake," Echo mutters, and he leans against the bulkhead and stares at the ceiling, shaking his head. "Just kill me now."

"Who won?" you ask.

"Hunter," Wrecker grumbles, and he lets out a huff. "He has an unfair advantage, if you ask me."

You and Echo exchange a glance, and Echo shakes his head, looking resigned.

"Don't worry, though," Wrecker continues. "We're all glad you two are finally together."

"Yeah, well, thanks, Wrecker," Echo mutters, and Wrecker beams.

"No problem. Anyways, I’m gonna head back to the club," he says, winking. “You guys enjoy the rest of your night.”

"Sure," Echo groans, his head thumping against the bulkhead.

"Oh, we will," you say, and you shoot Echo a wicked grin. He meets your gaze, his eyes widening and his cheeks going pink before a slow smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

"That's my girl," Wrecker crows. He grins and waves before turning on his heel and heading down the ramp. The hatch opens with a hiss, and you listen as the sound of his boots fades into the distance.

The silence is a welcome relief, and the tension seems to leave Echo's shoulders, the muscles relaxing. He takes a step toward you, his scomp reaching out to pull you close, and the motion is so sweet and natural that it makes a wave of emotion rise up inside you.

"Hey," you whisper.

"Hey."

"So," you start slowly. "That was fun."

"I'm sorry," he sighs. "If you wanted to keep it quiet, I'll talk to them."

"No, it's okay," you say, smiling. "I think it's nice."

"You do?"

"Yeah," you say. You reach up and wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him down for a quick kiss. "And I'm kind of proud that you're finally mine."

"Finally?" he asks, a smile tugging at his mouth.

"Well, yeah," you say. You press a kiss to his throat, right above his pulse, and his chest rumbles with a contented hum. "I've been interested in you since day one."

"Really?"

"You're kind of hard to resist," you admit, and he huffs out a soft laugh.

"Trust me, the feeling is mutual."

"Well, I'm glad you're not fighting it anymore."

"Me too," he murmurs. His arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, and he leans down and brushes his lips over yours. The kiss is tender, affectionate, and his hand trails over your lower back in a gentle caress.

You pull back, and his forehead dips to rest against yours, his breathing steady.

"Do you wanna watch that holo?" you ask, and he huffs a laugh.

“Sure.”

You grab your datapad and settle onto the bunk, and Echo curls up beside you, wrapping an arm around your waist. His touch is warm and comforting, and the feeling is enough to make your chest ache.

You put on a mindless holodrama, some action flick that's probably more entertaining if you've actually seen the other movies in the series. You don't mind, though. The plot isn't that interesting, and the acting is pretty bad. What really draws your attention is the feel of Echo pressed against your side, the weight of his arm draped over your waist, and the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. It's comfortable, and intimate, and just what you both need.

And if, during the holo, Echo's hand starts creeping up your shirt, and his mouth starts tracing the curve of your jaw, well, that's nobody's business but yours.

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia

@spicy-clones @kindalonleystars @cw80831 @totallyunidentified @heidnspeak

@lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @puppetscenario

@umekohiganbana @resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano

@burningnerdchild @ihatesaaand @lolwey @hobbititties @mere-bear

@thegreatpipster @lordofthenerds97 @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @mali-777

@schrodingersraven @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon @dreamie411 @sukithebean

@bimboshaggy @anything-forourmoony @9902sgirl @jedi-dreea @salaminus

@ghostymarni @gottalovehistory @burningnerdchild @yoitsjay @callsign-denmark

@julli-bee @sonicrainbooms @captn-trex @feral-ferrule @webslinger-holland

@marchingviolist @deerspringdreams

[coffeeandbatboys]

The Clones reacting to you smushing their cheeks

Idk I had this idea and thought it’d be cute. Since the clones are supposed to have round cheeks, visualize live action and not animated 😂

Warnings: none, just fluff.

Fives, Wrecker, Hardcase, & Tup: Loving it so much, will lean into your hands and give you heart eyes. Maybe even press a few kisses to your hand.

Cody, Jesse, Kix, Echo, Vaughn & Mayday: Will blush profusely and look side to side for a second, before giving in and flashing you a tiny smile.

Rex, Hunter, Tech, & Fox: Not sure what to do, just give an awkward smile and internally scream because they secretly find it super cute.

Crosshair, Wolffe & Dogma: Not understanding any of it. Don’t know what you’re doing, not sure that they like it, 3/10 do not recommend.

[leenathegreengirl]

You are cordially invited…. 🥰💚💕

(Happy ARC Trooper Thursday! This was totally inspired by @rainydaydream-gal18 ‘s https://www.tumblr.com/rainydaydream-gal18/750754157428916224/the-bad-batch-imagine-a-pabu-wedding post! Go check out her writing, it’s wonderful!)

@legacygirlingreen @thora-sniper @sukithebean @thecoffeelorian @neyswxrld @somewhere-on-kamino @clonethirstingisreal @royallykt @morerandombullshit @burningfieldof-clover @tbnrpotato @keantha

[nahoney22]

Omg congrats on so many followers! That's so amazing and so well deserved! Might I request Echo and Female reader and the sort of prompt is kissing as a disguise? (It can absolutely get a bit spicy too fyi :0) Oh also can reader just be someone who has been with the batch long enough to be familiar with them and such? Thank you!!! x <3

Kiss Me Quick*** 🌊

🫧 pairing: Echo X Female!Reader

word count: 2.7k

prompts: none

When you and Echo pair up to track a missing shipment for Cid, you both didn’t anticipate that it would end with you two finding somewhere to be alone.

warnings: Light NSFW, 17+ only, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Fake Dating Trope, Steamy Kisses, Neck Kisses and Bites, Touchy-feely, Minor Alcohol Consumption, Reader Wearing a Dress.

a/n: sorry for the wait @mezmatch, enjoy 🫧

“What does she want now?” you muttered, a familiar mix of irritation and reluctance bubbling up.

All you wanted was a rare day of relaxation, but fate, also known as Cid, had other plans.

“Probably to do her dirty work for very little credit,” Echo sighed, shaking his head in agreement.

After taking a moment to mentally prepare, you stepped into Cid’s cluttered office. The Trandoshan greeted you with her usual disdain, referring to you as ‘grumps’ and Echo as ‘killjoy’.

When you asked for details, she waved you off dismissively and activated the console in the center of her office. A large hologram of a notorious crime lord flickered to life. Cid began outlining the mission: gathering information on a shipment of weapons for a mysterious client. But you sensed there was more to it than she was letting on. There always was.

“This is a two-person job, and you two are the perfect candidates,” Cid announced, moving around her desk to take a seat. Her large claws tapped rhythmically across the surface. “And you two lovebirds get to dress up.”

“Could you not get—wait, what? Lovebirds?” You raised an eyebrow, glancing at Echo, who looked equally confused, albeit slightly more flustered.

Cid smirked, looking between the two of you. “Omega said you two were a thing.”

“No, we are not a ‘thing,’” Echo said, using air quotes and shaking his head. “But more to the point, what do you mean by dress up?”

“Don’t worry,” Cid said, her smirk widening. “Bolo and Ketch are on it.”

You folded your arms and stared down at Cid. “I don’t think taking fashion advice from those two is a great idea.”

Cid shrugged casually, waving you both off. “Don’t worry about it. Now, get out.”

Relieved, you left the office with the door hissing shut behind you. “Well, this could be interesting,” you sighed.

Echo agreed with a small mumble, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “Uh, why do you think Omega said that about us?”

“You know what she’s like,” you chuckled, not thinking too much into it. “She sees Hunter speaking to literally anyone and asks me if I think Hunter fancies them. She’s trying to play matchmaker.”

“Fair point,” Echo chuckled, but your conversation was soon interrupted by the sound of bickering. Bolo and Ketch entered the parlor, making a beeline straight to you both.

What had Cid gotten you into now?

That evening, the Marauder settled into hyperspace as you and Echo dressed in the outfits Cid’s regulars had picked out for you. Surprisingly, they hadn’t done too bad.

You slipped into a sleek, form-fitting dress in deep sapphire blue, which shimmered with your every movement. It was a far cry from your usual battle-worn attire, but you felt unexpectedly good in it.

Entering the cockpit, smoothing out the dress, you spotted Echo struggling with his cufflinks. “Can I help you with that?” you offered.

Echo was seated at the controls, and as he looked up, he did a double-take. None of the boys had ever seen you dressed so glamorously before. For a second, he thought you were a completely different person. His fingers stumbled, dropping the links as he tsked at himself in embarrassment. “Getting dressed in this kind of stuff is hard when you only have one hand,” he admitted, bending down to pick them up.

You moved closer, gently reaching out to help. “Here, let me.”

As you fixed the links to his cuffs, you also adjusted his slightly askew collar. Echo took a moment to truly look at you, noticing how stunning you looked. Though he had always found you beautiful, tonight you looked especially radiant. He didn’t say anything, but the soft smile on his face spoke volumes.

“There,” you said, stepping back. “All set.”

“Thanks,” Echo replied, his voice a little softer than usual. “You look…”

Gorgeous.

Pretty.

Beautiful.

“…really nice.”

He inwardly cringed at himself but saw your eyes shine at his compliment, which was clearly enough for you. And surprisingly, enough for him too.

You smiled, feeling a warmth creep up your cheeks. “You don’t look too shabby yourself, Sir,”

As you arrived, the grandeur of the event immediately struck you. Shimmering chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, casting a glittering glow over the sea of elegantly dressed guests. The room buzzed with the hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses, opulent decorations reflecting the wealth and status of the attendees.

Despite feeling out of place, you couldn’t help but be intrigued by the luxurious surroundings. However, the mission was clear: infiltrate the event, locate the stolen shipment of weapons, and report back to Cid.

Moving through the crowd, you exchanged pleasantries with other guests, trying to get a sense of the situation. Your eyes continuously scanned for any sign of the crime lord or his associates, whose images Cid had ingrained in your minds. Despite the lavish setting, your nerves were on edge. You felt grateful to be teamed up with Echo; his presence gave you a sense of calm in case things went awry.

“I’m going to head right to see if I can catch a lead. Are you okay with going to the left?” Echo asked, his voice steady.

You smiled in agreement at his plan. He gave you a reassuring nod before you split up to cover more ground. You gravitated toward the bar and ordered a cocktail to blend in. The bartender handed you a drink that was a mesmerizing swirl of deep blue and violet, almost matching your dress. It had hints of citrus and a subtle sweetness that lingered on the tongue. You sipped it slowly, your eyes and ears open to any useful information.

As you listened to the murmurs around you, a light tap on your shoulder made you turn. Standing before you was the crime lord himself, tall and imposing in a sharp suit, exuding an aura of controlled menace. He offered a charming, if slightly unsettling, smile.

“Enjoying the evening?” he asked, his tone smooth and courteous.

You maintained your composure, smiling back. “It’s quite the event. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

He leaned on the bar, his eyes gleaming with interest. “I’m glad you’re having a good time. It’s rare to see such beauty in these parts.”

From across the room, Echo’s gaze snapped to the scene. His posture tensed as he watched the exchange, a mix of concern and an unrecognizable pang twisting in his gut as he saw you speaking with the man. Without hesitation, he made his way over, weaving through the crowd.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were flirting with me,” you said, forcing a smile as you twirled the straw in your drink.

“And if I was?” he countered, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Or are you spoken for?”

Before you could answer, another familiar voice spoke up beside you. “Is everything alright over here?”

Relief washed over you as you saw Echo. When he reached you, you took a bold step, leaning into him, looping your arm through his, and resting your head against his shoulder. “This is my better half,” you said with a sweet smile, hoping the ruse would deter the crime lord from his advances.

Echo, catching on quickly, wrapped his arm around your waist, playing along. “Good evening,” he greeted, his voice steady.

The crime lord’s eyes flickered between you both, a calculating look crossing his face before he let out a chuckle. “A lucky man, indeed,” he said.

“I am,” Echo started, shifting his position before looking across at you. “Has my love asked you about our proposal?”

You stayed silent, allowing Echo to take the reins. Although you should have been paying attention, you couldn’t help but gaze at Echo, watching his lips move but not processing his words. His fingers gently caressed your waist, providing comfort and security. Had he always been so... alluring?

You felt breathless and almost flinched when Echo’s gaze suddenly locked onto you.

“W-What?” you stammered.

Echo raised an eyebrow at you, his hand slipping from your waist, leaving you feeling suddenly cold. “Did you hear what he said?” Echo asked, concern flickering in his eyes.

You blinked, overwhelmed, and took a step back as you realised you were in a whole different realm it seemed. You hadn’t even noticed that the crime lord had left. “Sorry, I... I think I blanked out for a moment,” you admitted, frowning.

He watched you curiously and politely took the drink from your hand, placing it on the bar. “Maybe lay off these?” he suggested with a soft chuckle.

You rolled your eyes, playfully nudging his shoulder. “I only had half of one,” you reiterated, not feeling up to explaining the real reason for your distraction. “Anyway, what intel did you get?”

“He said the shipment is being moved to the docks. I told him we were thinking of getting in on the score.”

You raised an impressed eyebrow. “And he even didn’t question it?”

“Not particularly, no. But it’s best we keep our wits about us,” Echo pointed out, scanning the surroundings before his eyes landed on you again. “We should still ask around or listen for more information, just in case he’s misleading us.”

Agreeing, you and Echo split up once again. But you couldn't lie and say your mind wasn't elsewhere. Echo was definitely boyfriend material for anyone, but you never thought you'd find yourself wanting Echo to be your actual boyfriend. He settled into the role so easily that you wondered if he had done it once before in his 501st days.

Your thoughts were interrupted when a short yet intimidating associate of the crime lord blocked your path, his eyes sharp and scrutinising. “I hear you and your partner are interested in our operation,” he said suspiciously. “What’s your angle?”

“No angle,” you lied smoothly, tilting your head down at him. “It’s just business.”

“Well darling, your business is now my business.” He stepped towards you, but you didn’t back down and held your ground.

A smirk spread across your lips. “I don’t think it is. Besides, it’s your boss I have business with, not his little pup.”

The man’s eyes flared with anger at your words, feeling the sting of your insult. “I don’t trust you, or your little boyfriend. If he even is who you say he is.”

“If I had a credit for every time I didn’t care about your opinion, I wouldn’t have to do this,” you countered, placing your fists on your hips. “Now run along.”

The man muttered something under his breath and stalked off, and you couldn’t help but release the small breath you were holding. If that guy was wary of you and Echo, you were certain the others would catch on too.

You located Echo across the hall and swiftly made your way over to him, gently clutching his arm. “We should get going.”

“What, why?” he asked, looking at you and then scanning the area for any potential dangers. You told him that people were growing suspicious of you both. As you looked around, you saw the associates talking quietly to one another, occasionally glancing at you and Echo.

Your mind fell back to the associate's words, wondering why he would think you and Echo couldn’t possibly be partners. Was there anything you could do to sway their opinion?

Then, an idea clicked—a somewhat smart yet daring move.

You turned back to Echo, watching him as he scanned the environment, his hand resting on your hip. You felt a rush of wild emotions.

Letting go of his arm, your hand moved to his face, cupping his cheek and turning his face back to you softly. You met his eyes, slightly wide and curious but absolutely alluring. Leaning up, your lips landed on his.

You felt his faint gasp against your lips, but he quickly caught on to what you were doing. So, he brought you closer, his eyes fluttering closed.

At first, it started as just a peck, but as you went to pull back, his lips chased yours, not caring who or what saw.

Breaking the kiss eventually, your eyes silently spoke to each other. Without another word, Echo took your hand and led you to a quiet and secure area away from prying eyes. A flush of embarrassment suddenly surfaced, and you expected Echo to say you shouldn’t do that again. But as you turned to face him, ready to apologise, he approached you with steadfast determination and kissed you again.

Surprised, you were backed into a desk, his arm wrapping around you and lifting you onto it with ease. You gasped against his lips, holding onto his shoulders and pulling him closer. The kiss intensified, filled with pent-up emotions of the night and laced desire. His hand roamed your body, his scomp link gently tracing your waist, sending waves of shivers down your spine.

"Echo," you whispered between kisses, your voice low and gentle.

He responded with a soft murmur of your name, his lips leaving yours before trailing down your neck.

Each touch of his lips peppering on your skin made your heart race and your breaths come faster. Was this really happening?

"You’re so beautiful," he murmured against your skin, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes with a smirk. "And you look sexy dressed this way too."

The compliment sent a thrill through you, your cheeks flushing at his bold compliment. “Echo…” you could only respond again with a soft sigh, his name the only thing on your mind.

Echo's grip tightened around you, pulling you closer as if he couldn't bear to let you go. His lips moved back to your neck, and you couldn't help the small moans that escaped, your fingers digging into his shoulders as his warm tongue licked at your exposed skin, followed by a soft nip of his teeth.

"You're everything I've ever wanted," he breathed, his voice filled with sincerity and desire. Your eyes close, gasping at the realisation that Echo had had these strong feelings for you and only now is able to truly express them. You wish he had told you earlier.

His scorching kisses made you feel alive in a way you had never experienced before. The connection between you deepened with each touch, each whispered word. Tongue begging for entrance, you part your lips as soon as his lips touch yours, the passion burning through both of your bodies as your hands move up and down his chest.

“What if someone sees us?” You pant once you break for breath, physically melting as you watch his hand grasp the bottom of your dress, pulling it upwards to expose your legs.

“Then they don’t get to question what you are to me,” he mumbles, drunk in love eyes meeting yours.

His hand started to slip up under your dress, sending a shiver of anticipation through you when suddenly, a sharp beep cut through the haze of your passion.

Echo pulled back, slightly breathless, as his comm went off. Cid's voice crackled through, impatient and nagging. “What’s taking so long? I need details, now. You’re needed back.”

You both exchanged a look, a mixture of frustration and amusement, before Echo answered, his voice steady despite the interruption. “We’ll be there soon, Cid. Just wrapping up.”

He ended the call and looked back at you, his gaze softening. “We should get going.”

You nodded, feeling a bit shy after the intensity of the moment being ruined . “Yeah, we should.”

As you smoothed your dress out, you watched as Echo tried to fix his tie, which you had yanked on accidentally during the kiss. Smiling, you stepped closer and helped him adjust it. “There.”

When you were done, you both met each other's gaze again. Echo couldn’t help but place a gentle kiss on your lips. “Can we talk about what happened after the mission?” he asked softly, his eyes full of hope.

“Of course,” you replied, your heart fluttering. “I’d like that.”

You didn’t want to admit it, but you should thank Omega, and even Cid, for bringing you both together.

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🌊 Masterlist is pinned 🌊

[vizslasaber]

UNDERSTANDING ──── echo.

summary: in the middle of the night, echo finds you, hurt and exhausted and in need of an apology.

pairing: arc trooper echo x reader

word count: 1.6k

warnings: none! just a sprinkling of angst and grief.

a/n: i love echo so much & im so glad he’s okay as of the finale!! this takes place sometime around the early seasons, but after the season 1 episode “cornered.” also, i listened to waves by chloe moriondo while writing this!

You’re not sure what to think of Echo.

Most of the time, he’s quiet. When he does speak, it’s usually to enforce a rule, remind the group of their current plan, or to keep Wrecker in check. You’ve seen his softer side, with Omega and occasionally his brothers, and it’s rare but honestly endearing.

The thing about him that most irks you, however, is that he never wants to seem to interact with you.

Officially, Hunter is the group leader; ever since Clone Force 99 accepted you into their squad, that much has been clear. You’re the only non-clone—or “natborn” as the others refer to you—living on the Marauder. It’s been several months since you saved Omega from bounty hunters on your home planet of Pantora, and now, you’re as much a part of the Bad Batch as anyone else.

Except, you’re not a batcher. Not really.

Despite how much you care for your squadmates, it’s easy to feel separated from them at times. Easy to feel different. Most of the others have picked up on this by now, and often go to great lengths to make you feel like one of them.

Not Echo, though. He seems—wary of you, almost, and you’re not sure why. Once, you brought it up to Tech, who simply waved you off with one of his shrewd, knowledge-filled comments. “You are new here, you know. Some people are simply slower to open up than others.”

You, however, know that’s not the case. You’ve seen Echo with his brothers, and with Omega. He can be kind, and funny, and even angry. But to you… to you, he’s nothing but quiet.

For some time, you tried your hardest to be yourself around him—to crack your usual sarcastic jokes at his expense, to be friendly, like you are with the others. But the constant avoidance and clipped answers leave you increasingly confused and hurt.

So you withdrew from him, too.

It still bothers you, sometimes. But you’ve learned to brush it off.

Now, you sit in the cockpit, feet resting against the control panel. A ration bar—one of the good ones—rests in your hand. Every so often, as you watch the blue glow of hyperspace streak past the viewport, you take a bite of the ration bar.

You’re on first watch. Someone has to stay in the cockpit to oversee the ship’s journey back to Ord Mantell—and, since you still can’t fall asleep in hyperspace, you keep volunteering for the job. The cockpit is mostly dark. All the lights are off, and the viewport is dimmed. Anything brighter reminds you of how sleep-deprived you are, and so you’re content to sit in the blue gloom.

Leaning your head against the headrest of the pilot’s chair, you close your eyes. Your entire body feels heavy with exhaustion, but every time you try to drift off, the rumbling of the ship’s hyperdrive jerks you awake.

The sound of footsteps startles you. You open your eyes, leaning around the back of the chair to inspect what little part of the ship’s corridor you can see. You can hear the sounds of someone moving around by the small common area, but you can’t tell who it is.

Tech’s probably experimenting again, you think wryly, and settle back into your comfortable position.

Soon, though, the footsteps grow closer. Someone enters the cockpit with a tired sigh, placing something on one of the chairs nearer to the door. It sort of sounds like Hunter, but with the similarity between everyone’s voices, you can’t be sure.

The footsteps halt suddenly. You look up to find honey-coloured eyes surveying you with apprehension. In the dim light, awash with blue, you register the glint of a cybernetic headpiece.

“Oh,” you say, blinking up at Echo, “hi.”

Echo only grunts.

You frown, looking down at your hands, at your half-eaten ration bar. “It’s late,” you say quietly. “You, um—you should get some rest.”

When Echo answers, you don’t look up. He says, voice low and gravelly with sleep, “I slept for a couple hours.”

Slowly, you nod, fiddling with the foil wrapper of the ration bar. The cockpit falls silent; you wait for Echo to leave, but he stays still, his shadow falling over your tired frame.

You want to ask why he’s still here. You want to be rude, to ask him to leave so you can have some peace and quiet. But truthfully, he isn’t saying anything, or causing any disturbances, so instead you hold up your unfinished ration bar. “You want a bite?”

Echo blinks. It seems to take him a moment to process your question. Then, to your faint surprise, he nods. “Thank you,” he says as you hand him the ration bar wordlessly.

It’s a peace offering, of sorts.

He sits in the co-pilot’s chair and takes a hesitant bite, chewing slowly. You see his expression brighten—probably at the realization that this is one of the good ration bars, the kind that Hunter always says not to hog—then return to his usual neutral one.

You watch as he swallows. He hands you back the bar, holding out his hand, but you don’t take it.

“Why… why are you here?” you ask quietly.

As soon as the words leave your mouth, Echo drops his arm and breaks eye contact, looking almost embarrassed. Or maybe even ashamed.

Still, you wait for his answer. Several long, painful seconds pass before he says anything. When he speaks, it’s like he’s forcing out the words.

“I wanted to—” he pauses. His flesh hand fiddles with his metal one. “I wanted to apologize.”

You feel your breath hitch. Staring, you try not to gape. “What?” you say, whispering without meaning to. “I don’t—”

“I’ve been horrible to you,” Echo continues, voice steadier. “I didn’t mean to be so… withdrawn. I didn’t realize I was doing it. I… I hope you can forgive me.”

Instead of acknowledging his apology, you bite the inside of your cheek with uncertainty, then cross your arms over your chest. One of the others must have put him up to this. Probably Omega, or perhaps Hunter. Raising an eyebrow, you ask, “Who sent you?”

“No one!” Echo replies hurriedly, then presses his lips into a thin line. “I mean, Hunter told me that you—he said that—” He sighs. “I didn’t realize it on my own. But I came because I wanted to.”

You blink, cursing yourself when you feel your eyes sting. With a start, you realize that this is the most Echo has said to you since you joined the squad.

Taking in a breath, you wring your hands anxiously. “I just… I just don’t understand why.” You shrug. “You’re not the same with me. Not like how you are with the others.”

Echo swallows. “It’s not—”

“I just want to know what I did wrong.”

At that, Echo falls silent. Guilt permeates the air, enough that you can feel it.

“Hey,” Echo says, kinder than you’ve ever heard him. “Look at me.”

You do. His eyes, like lava, or maybe liquid gold, bore into you. It almost hurts to look.

“This,” he continues, gesturing to the space between you, “is not your fault.”

Against your will, a lone tear slips down your cheek. “So whose fault is it?” you whisper, barely loud enough to be heard over the ship’s engine

It’s obvious from the look on Echo’s face that he’s thinking of something—or someone—specific. Despite how much you want to, you don’t push.

You just wait.

“It’s my brother,” Echo finally murmurs, and you raise your eyebrows, quickly cycling through the rest of your squad. Hunter, Wrecker, Tech… maybe Crosshair? You can’t think what any of them, even the one who’s no longer a member of your group, have to do with you.

“Your... brother,” you repeat dumbly.

“Yes.” Echo nods. “Fives.”

Oh. A fellow soldier, then. Probably from before the war ended… and probably long dead.

Drawing in a shaky breath, you hastily wipe your cheek with your sleeve. “What—what about him?”

“You…” Echo shakes his head, then lets out a humourless chuckle as he turns to look at the viewport, at the swirling blues and whites and greys of hyperspace. When he speaks again, his voice is barely above a whisper. “You remind me of him.”

You blink.

Truthfully, you have no idea what to say to that. Luckily, Echo continues, saving you from having to come up with an answer.

“Your sense of humour, I mean. The sarcasm, the jokes.” He shrugs, and the light from the viewport catches on his cybernetic headpiece, glinting in the otherwise dim cockpit. “And… and the way you know people.”

“‘Know people’?” you echo, confused. “I’m not following.”

“You understand people,” Echo says, and finally looks at you again, eyes impossibly sad. “Somehow, without ever having experienced what others have gone through, you understand their pain—and you feel it with them.” He closes his eyes for a brief moment, then opens them again. “Fives used to do that too.”

And suddenly, as though a switch inside you has been flipped, it all makes sense. “And that’s why you’ve been avoiding me,” you realize, and Echo winces. “Because I remind you of him.”

“See?” The barest hint of a smile graces his lips. “You’re doing it now. And you’re not even trying.”

“I guess I never thought about it like that.”

“I’m sorry for everything,” Echo says. “I am. It just…”

“Hurts,” you finish, and Echo blinks, surprised. You smile softly. “I know you too, you know.” Reaching out, you take his flesh hand, gently prying it open and taking the ration bar. As Echo watches, you split the remaining piece in half and hand one to him. “And for what it’s worth—I forgive you.”

The shadows colouring Echo’s face suddenly seem lighter. He smiles, then—really smiles.

You take a bite of the ration bar and smile back.

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[vodika-vibes]

Hey !🌸🌸 can you please write something about

,, what made them fall in love with you“

It doesn’t really matter who it is about but since I’m a Wolffe fangirly it would be really nice to read something about him 🩷 and crosshair , Rex as well thank u 🌸

What Made Them Fall In Love

Pairings: Commander Wolffe x Reader, Captain Rex x F!Reader, TBB Crosshair x F!Reader, ARC Trooper Echo x Reader

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: I added Echo to make the number even, lol. I hope you don't mind. Sorry this took so long! I hope you like it!

Commander Wolffe

Your fingers tangle in his hair as Wolffe dances with you around the living room. The music is quiet and slow, and his heart beats steadily against the palm of your hand, which is resting on his chest. 

He gazes down at you with his mismatched eyes, and you offer him the warmest smile as you lean in and brush your lips against his with a content sigh.

“That was a heavy noise, cyare.” Wolffe murmurs as he leans in and bumps his forehead against yours.

“A happy noise,” You reassure, “I’ve never been so happy in my life.”

He chuckles, “I’m glad to hear it.”

The pair of you fall into a comfortable silence for a moment. “Wolffe?”

“Hm?”

“Why did you choose me?” You ask, it has been weighing on your mind for a while.

He looks confused for a  moment, and then he smiles and cups your face with his hands, the dance slowing to a stop, “The first time we met, you punched someone for calling me a meat droid.” There’s something painfully fond on his face, “It was that fire, that passion, that drew me to you. But it was your heart that made me love you.”

You beam at him, “I love you too.”

He chuckles, his hands falling back to your waist, “Good. Now, I’m not done dancing with you. Come here.”

A giggle falls from you as he tugs you against his body, and you eagerly go with him.

Captain Rex

“You’re back!” A delighted laugh falls from her lips as she throws herself into his already open arms.

Rex catches her with ease, lifting her up and spinning her around, before pulling her into a tight hug, “I am back.” He replies, his voice muffled by her hair, “Stars, I’ve missed you.”

Her arms tighten around his neck and she shifts to rub her cheek against his, “If you had told me that you were coming back, I would have prepared better!”

“I didn’t want to get your hopes up,” Rex replies, his arms sliding under her thighs to support her weight as he walks into the apartment and blindly hits the door control panel to shut and lock the door behind him.

She isn't paying any attention to that, though, as her hands are framing his face, and she’s scanning his face looking for any new scars or bruises. 

“I’m alright, sweet girl,” He promises, and she smiles down at him.

“Maybe I just want to look at my handsome man,” She teases, “I missed you so much.” She lightly rubs his cheeks with her thumbs, “Oh, but I don’t have any food-”

Rex’s smile softens, and he pulls her into a deep kiss. This, right here, is why he fell in love with her in the first place. Her compassion, her love, the way she wants him around.

He’d burn Coruscant to the ground if she asked him.

But for now, for now he’ll just kiss her.

Crosshair

Crosshair’s gaze is soft as he peers up at her, his hand warm as it presses against her cheek. The sun of Pabu is hot, bearing down on both of them, but he doesn’t mind.

“You’re staring,” She says as she positions herself so that her head is hovering over his.

“I can’t help it.” He murmurs, “You’re gorgeous.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, you’re not too bad yourself,” She teases, leaning in and kissing him softly, gently. As though afraid that her lips would break him.

He loves that about her, it’s why he fell in love with her in the first place. Because she looked at him and didn’t just see the soldier, the sniper, the asshole. She saw the man who needed a little softness, and was more than happy to give it.

Crosshair smiles at her.

“What?”

“I love you.”

She ducks her head, seemingly embarrassed about his words. “I love you too.”

“Enough to marry me?”

Her head snaps up, surprise clear on her face, and then warmth crosses her face, “Nothing would make me happier.”

ARC Trooper Echo

Echo’s arm is tucked under his head as he lays on the couch. You’re straddling his hips, your hands resting on his bare chest for balance, and he’s grinning at you.

“Well, what do you think?” Echo asks.

You glance at his face, and then drag your gaze down to his chest. There’s his skeletal hand tattooed on the right side of his chest, his symbol, how people recognize him when he’s in armor. 

It’s not a new tattoo.

The new part is the delicate flowers twined around the skeletal hand. Flowers that you're named after. Lightly, you trace one of the vines of ivy, “You did this for me?”

“Partly, but mostly for myself.” Echo places his hand over yours and moves both of them so they’re resting over his head, “I like being able to look at my tattoo and remember you. Your voice, your smile, your eyes, your lips-”

Slowly, he pulls you down so that he’s able to catch your lips in a kiss. And that single kiss turns into two, three, four-

“I have loved you since the moment we first met.” Echo whispers against your lips, “Since the day you looked at me and saw me, and not just another clone.”

You smile against his lips and kiss him again. You could kiss him forever and never grow tired of it.

“I’ll spend the rest of my life making you happy, cyare.” Echo promises. “I swear it.”

[kyasarinkishinuma]

Hugging the clones for comfort headcanons: The 501st

(With a hint of gray and orange ;) )

Captain Rex

The first time you hug him, he doesn't know what's happening, so it's like hugging a plank 💀

However once you explain to him what you're doing he relaxes into it and starts hugging you back, albeitly hesitantly.

It'll take a couple tries for him to get comfortable with it, but he's holding     you gently and providing you with the comfort you need before you know it!

Once he's used to it, whenever you come and hug him without a word he'll stop everything he's doing to hold you until you feel better.

He's a big fan of forehead kisses, it makes him feel tall :')

Fives

This man is a cuddle bug, once you're hugged him you're done for.

Fives is down for hugs anytime, anywhere. He's not really afraid of PDA, whether it's romantic or platonic. He wants to be able to help in whichever way he can, so bad jokes usually come with the hug.

He's so touch-deprived please hold him it makes him so happy

Once he's comfortable enough he'll start initiating the hugs, he likes to sneak up on you from behind and surprise you with a sneak hug >:D

He's quite a cuddle bug during movies on a couch beneath a blanket with a bowl of popcorn, movie nights are definitely the best with this guy!

Echo

Echo can be a bit shy, so the first time you hug him his face is definitely     lighting up like fireworks!

After you pull back he'll just stare in disbelief and ask you, what was that? Once you explain it to him however he calms down and understands a lot better.

Echo is the kind of guy who will guide you through things if you're in need of comfort. He'll pat your back and talk to you gently, asking you if you're    all right. He's the best person to go to if you need to calm down.

Even if he gets used to it Echo blushes a bit everytime you hug him, not being used to this kind of touch. It's actually pretty cute :')

With time he'll relax into the hug and hold you gently in his arms, against his chest so you can feel safe and comforted. He'll lean his chin on top of  your head sometimes, wrapping you in his body.

Jesse

Jesse is one of the guys who's coolest with the whole 'hug out of nowhere' thing, freezing at first before he just quirks a brow and chuckles at you.

He'll joke at first to wave off his surprise, but then get more serious and hold you gently as he asks you if you're all right.

Jesse is a pretty good listener, so he can offer an ear for you or just stand  there and hug in silence if that's what you need. He's also always got a     joke up his sleeve should you need it.

You can honestly walk up to Jesse anytime for a hug, he'll always be happy to hug it out, even in front of his brothers. Although he may brag about it to them

He's a big fan of holding you in his lap as he hugs you against his chest.

Hardcase

We all know Hardcase can never sit still, but when you hug him? Not one movement from him. It's like a puppy standing at attention after seeing a squirrel.

He'll fumble with his words a bit as he tries to comprehend what's happening, but if you're able to soothe him or ask him to just hold you for a minute he'll go quiet and hug you as long as he needs.

If you hug him too long he'll start fidgetting because of his hyperactivity,     which is always a good way to get a laugh out of you. If you call him out     about it he'll become flustered and frustrated that he can't keep still.

Hardcase's hugs are warm and tight. He's surprisingly okay with touch, and his hugs are some of the most satisfying you can get.

The best way to get him to stop fidgetting around is to surprise him with a  kiss on the cheek ;)

Kix

As a medic, Kix has the care and well-being of others at heart. So if you come to him for a hug seeking comfort, even if he's not familiar with these... methods, he'll be happy to oblige.

Kix is someone you can come back to for hugs whenever you need them. He'll hold you silently as you calm down before asking you what happened.

His patience shows in his hug, as he'll hold you gently and won't pull you  back until you do or ask him to. There's no rush in his movements, and he commits his full attention to you as long as you need.

At the end of the hug, Kix will give you things like meds or sweets, whatever you need to be feel better.

After some time your hugs grow off him and he starts asking you for them as well! It helps with the stress from his job as a medic. He loves it when    you hide your face in his shoulder and he can tuck a hand behind your head and stroke your hair.

Tup

Along with Rex, Tup is definitely one of the more awkward clones from the 501st with hugs. He'll just freeze and stand there as you hug him, heart     pounding in his chest.

He'll definitely need explanations to understand what happened, but once he does he's surprisingly kind and understanding about it. Although he's a bit awkward with the gesture, he'll never deny you and will pat your back    until you calm down.

Tup is the kind of guy who'll stick around with you after the hug to make sure you're all right. He's quite caring in that quiet way of his, his eyes     holding worry even when you reassure him you're fine.

Tup is more than happy to go to a coffee shop or park with you afterwards! Although he may not say it out loud he enjoys spending time with you outside a military context and in these moments he'll open up to you a bit more.

He secretly loves it when you lean his head on his shoulder :')

Commander Cody

Being a commander, Cody has experience with people dealing with stress and even breakdowns, so he's not exactly a stranger to comforting people.

Even if he is initially taken off-guard by your hug, he'll ease into it a lot     faster than you might expect and return the hug. "All right, all right. Easy there..."

He's calm and patient the entire time, easing you with soft words of     encouragement and holding you gently. He won't rush you, pulling back only once you've calmed down.

He'll sit down with you and talk once you're feeling better if you'd like. He's one of the most sympathetic and understanding clones in the lot when it     comes to this things, and there's no truly no shame to be felt about your     moment of vulnerability around Cody.

If hugging becomes a regular thing, you'll quickly notice he has a knack for securing his arms around your waists and hips ;)

Commander Wolffe

Wolffe may seem difficult to approach and like the last person who would return a hug, but... Well. You're in for one hell of a surprise.

He'll grumble about it at first, but it doesn't take long before he wraps an     arms around you and holds you against his side, glaring at your     surroundings protectively (which effectively scares most living beings in     the proximity away).

Although he may come off as grumpy about it, Wolffe does ask if you're doing okay and will demand you come back to him if something ever happens. He's pretty protective like that!

It doesn't take you long to realize that the grumbling is actually all a     cover-up to hide the fact that Wolffe is a huge cuddle bug.

When it's just the two of you off-duty he can't keep his hands off you and wraps around you like a cocoon. If you poke at him too much about it he'll just grumble and hide his face in your hair :')

Hope you guys enjoyed! Let me know which headcanon was your favourite 💖

[jedipoodoo]

A Bun In The Oven (Echo x Reader)

Notes: No warnings, pregnancy reveal, food mention, Fives is a goofball, Echo loves you v v much, based on this pregnancy reveal.

You should have known that he wouldn't understand the turn of phrase. Clones had very minimal sex education, you knew, but now that he had discovered the burnt bun, it was too funny to back out.

"Honey, why would you leave a single roll in the oven?" Echo sighed and used some tongs to take the offending pastry out of the oven. Echo had insisted on cooking dinner for you, and you honestly thought that he would check the oven before preheating it.

"It's not a roll, it's a bun." You corrected him, running your hands over your decidedly flat stomach (for now, at least)

"What's the difference?" Fives asked. He was never one to pass up free food. Echo smacked his hands away with the tongs.

"Okay, why would you leave a single bun in the oven?"

"You know, I'm starting to see where you got your name from, babe."

Fives cackled, and Echo smacked him again with the tongs.

"Echo, what did you pull out of the oven?"

"A burnt roll."

"Not a roll!" Fives crowed.

"Okay a burnt bun!" Echo sighed, "Honey, are you feeling okay?" he patted your forehead to see if you had a fever. "

"I'm fine, Echo," You giggled, "We have a bun in the oven."

Echo blinked slowly. "I just pulled it out."

Your head fell forward against his chest as you shook with laughter.

"Okay, what have you done to my riduur?" Echo accused Fives, wrapping his arms around you to hold you upright.

"Nothing, I swear!" Fives waved his arms insistently.

"Echo," You placed your hands on his shoulders to balance yourself. "A bun in the oven is a way of saying that someone's pregnant."

His eyes went wide, and in his sudden silence you could hear Fives trying to muffle his squeals.

"Echo, we're having a baby."

Echo's hands rested on your hips, "Really?" he whispered.

You nodded.

"You're pregnant?"

You nodded again.

With this confirmation Echo wrapped his arms around you and swept you off your feet. You threw your arms around his neck as you both laughed for joy.

"I'm gonna be a buir!" He boasted to Fives.

"I'm gonna be an uncle!" Fives whooped for joy and tried to hug you both, but Echo shoved him away so that he could hold you for a moment longer.

He took your face in his hands and kissed you, surprisingly gentle for the excitement he'd just displayed.

"How far along are you, cyare?"

"Just a few weeks. I went the medicenter yesterday to get confirmation."

You glared over at Fives, "Usually couple wait a little longer before they tell other people."

Fives shrugged, "You know it's physically impossible for me to be more than 100 meters away from Echo at any given time."

He gave you a gentle hug, "I promise I won't tell anyone unless you guys say so."

"Thank you, Fives," You kissed his cheek.

Fives grinned, and then lunged at Echo, wrestling him to the floor.

"You sly mir'sheb! My vod, a buir!" He caught Echo in a headlock, ruffling Echo's perfectly gelled, regulation hair.

"You know tubies don't care about a sleep schedule, right? How're you supposed to get the regulation eight?"

"I...hadn't figured that out yet," Echo gasped for breath.

You laughed, wondering if this would be the life of your future child. Would you and Echo be able to give them a sibling or two? Would you be able to provide them a shelter safe from the war?

Any worries you had were promptly squashed by the laughter of Echo and his brother as they wrestled on the floor of your apartment. How could you doubt how wonderful your life with Echo could be when this was the glimpse of your future?

"Fives, I would appreciate it if you refrained from taking out the father of my child before they're born." You said, reaching for the plates and cups to set the table. Echo did say he wanted to cook for you tonight.

"Do you know if it'll be a boy or a girl?" Fives dropped Echo like a hot blaster, and Echo leaped to his feet, running over to the kitchen to shield himself behind you while he finally got back to the meal prep.

"We won't know for a few more months," You said, absently running a hand over your stomach. Echo watched the movement for a moment, and held out his hand, silently asking permission.

You nodded, and Echo placed his hand on your belly, holding it there for a moment as if he could feel the baby that could hardly be bigger than your eyeball.

"If it's a boy, we could name them after one of the Dominoes," He said with reverence.

You resisted the urge to make a face, "I know you love your brothers, babe, but I refuse to name my newborn child "Droidbait"."

"What about DB for short?"

"No."

"I call dibs on Hevy!" Fives said.

"You've never even met a girl!" Echo sighed.

"Too late. I got dibs. No take backs."

You laughed as Echo rolled his eyes. He turned back to chopping the vegetables, and you helped mix them in the pot.

A few minutes later, he leaned over and whispered in your ear, "What about Fives?"

"Are you making enough for him?"

"No, for a baby name. Naming our kid after him."

You gave him a deadpan stare. "You really want to stoke your brother's ego that much?" you nodded over to Fives, sprawled out on your couch and flipping through holochannels.

Echo suppressed a snort. "I guess not."

You kissed his cheek, "Don't worry babe, we've got eight months to figure it all out."

[welcometo79s]

The Menu: Grab a Drink!

here you can find a masterlist of my works! i hope you enjoy reading — reblog a work with a comment and get the opportunity to send in a request! drink picrew here.

type: [ri] reader-insert [g] general

genre: [rom] romance [qpr] queerplatonic [pl] platonic [hcom] hurt / comfort [a] angst [hu] humor

format: [hc] headcanons [os] oneshot

Clone Shenanigans Masterpost [crack]

Hunter:

love languages [ri] [rom] [qpr] [hc]

what his room looks like [g] [hu] [hc]

Echo:

love languages [ri] [rom] [qpr] [hc]

relationship headcanons [ri] [rom] [qpr]

5 things he does when he has feelings for you [ri] [rom] [qpr] [hc]

what his room looks like [g] [hu] [hc]

amusement park date [ri] [rom] [qpr] [hc]

Wrecker:

love languages [ri] [rom] [qpr] [hc]

amusement park date [ri] [rom] [qpr] [hc]

what his room looks like [g] [hu] [hc]

Tech:

the incomprehensible [ri] [a] [hcom] [os]

love languages [ri] [rom] [qpr] [hc]

what his room looks like [g] [hu] [hc]

Crosshair:

love languages [ri] [rom] [qpr] [hc]

strange remedies [ri] [rom] [os]

what his room looks like [g] [hu] [hc]

amusement park date [ri] [rom] [qpr] [hc]

crosshair character playlist

Fives:

there are worse ways to get hurt. [ri] [rom] [qpr] [os]

just a little love [ri] [rom] [os]

5 things he does when he has feelings for you [ri] [rom] [qpr] [hc]

relaxing with fives [ri] [rom] [qpr] [hc]

amusement park date [ri] [rom] [qpr] [hc]

what his room looks like [g] [hu] [hc]

fives character playlist

fives fanart

Hardcase:

amusement park date [ri] [rom] [qpr] [hc]

what his room looks like [g] [hu] [hc]

Emerie:

none yet

Fox:

satellite [ri] [os]

5 things he does when he has feelings for you [ri] [rom] [qpr] [hc]

what his room looks like [g] [hu] [hc]

Kix:

5 things he does when he has feelings for you [ri] [rom] [qpr] [hc]

Howzer:

none yet

Tup:

what his room looks like [g] [hu] [hc]

taglist — @xxheartspadexx, @mushsoup, @kleiner-ghost, @somewhere-on-kamino, @myskyisred, @disastercyborgecho, @stormyblue90, @decembermidnight, @motte-the-goblin

[meshla-cyarika]

just gonna leave this here

[jetii]

i loveeeeeee ur writing. its like a masterpiece. mwah. i was wondering if you could do an angsty fic with the prompt "I loved you!" with any clone boy you want (maybe crosshair 👀) I was listening to Cardigan by taylor swift and it lowkey set the mood.

sorry if the request is very vague cause i never watched bad batch yet im a huge simp 🥲 so do whatever you want.

I know you got like a tonnnn on your plate and i lowkey feel bad requesting but you write really good so take ur time to take care of yourself.

hiiiii anon. if you are who i think you are, then you'll have already been watching TBB by now, but if you're not, what are you doing!! /affectionate

after listening to the song (i have a sister who is a swiftie but alas i am not) and thinking harder about your prompt, i was inspired to write this for Echo, so i hope that's okay!

The Way Back

Pairing: Echo x fem!Reader

Words: 9,621

Tags/Warnings: angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, established relationship, dramatic reunion, reader is a lawyer, Tech is a good brother, Echo needs a hug, allusion to panic attacks/alcoholism/depression

Summary: Echo always knew you were it for him, but the idea of seeing you again after so much has changed is more than he can take. Until one day he finds himself outside of your apartment, and the choice is made for him.

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

Echo doesn’t leave the ship when it docks on Coruscant.

His eyes are locked on the city-planet, lit up like a giant firefly, watching the endless stream of ships coming in and out. Their trails of light make the whole thing seem dreamlike, surreal. Even that feels like too much, reminds him too much of the view from your apartment, and he tries to close his eyes, but his eyelids are made of glass.

The first time he saw Coruscant, there had been a moment of... what, awe? Terror? Something. Something big, anyway. He didn't understand then that you can have a feeling be a lot of things. He'd looked down on the galaxy's center of power and felt something bigger than he could possibly contain. Now, sitting alone on the Marauder with only the whirr of the vents for company, he thinks maybe the feeling was dread.

The first time they came back here after Echo joined the Batch, the others didn’t notice his unease. Or at least they didn't mention it. It was an adjustment period for everyone, Echo most of all, and his brothers gave him space to do things on his own terms, even when it meant he did nothing at all.

This time, it's different. He can tell they've noticed how he's been acting, and they're not just leaving him alone anymore. He can tell, because they're giving him looks. The kind of looks that ask questions he doesn't have answers for. They make excuses to stick close by, like they're afraid he might take off or that he's going to break down and have another panic attack. It makes him want to hide even more.

He's not going to, though. It's not so bad. Coruscant has always been a source of good memories for Echo, despite what happened. The sights, the sounds, the tastes — they're all still the same. He'd spent a long time on Coruscant before the Citadel happened, and he'd gotten used to it, the way the air smells, the feel of the rain against his skin. He had a whole life here. He was happy.

It's not so bad. He just... doesn't feel like going out, is all.

He knows he’s being stupid. He knows that he should be out there, enjoying what little downtime they’re afforded. Instead, he's on the ship, trying not to stare out the windows, trying to pretend that he isn't bothered by the thought of leaving, of the possibility of running into you again, however small that may be.

The worst part is that he's not sure why.

It's not that he doesn't want to see you. On the contrary, he does. More than anything. He hasn't stopped thinking about you, wondering if you're okay, if you’re happy, if you've thought of him. He's kept his ears open, and has managed to overhear a few stories here and there about you. The most recent had been about you winning a case for a group of Houk refugees who had been seeking asylum in the city, a big deal for a young lawyer to handle.

It had made him smile, a real, genuine smile, the kind he rarely got to have.

But there's something about seeing you again, about you seeing him that makes him hesitate, makes his stomach turn over and his throat tighten. Maybe it's because he doesn't want to know for certain, doesn't want to see that you're happy, that you've moved on, that you're doing well without him.

Maybe it's because he doesn't trust himself. He's different now, he knows that. He's different, and so are you. He doesn't know if he can face you, doesn't know if he'll be able to handle whatever is waiting for him. 

When he woke up in Rex’s arms and realized the galaxy had kept moving without him, he hadn’t thought much of it, solely focused on survival, on the fact that he was alive at all. He hadn't cared about what he'd missed, who he'd left behind. He hadn't known how much time had passed, and the thought that he was a dead man hadn't even crossed his mind. He hadn't thought about you, hadn't given himself the time or space to consider the consequences. You'd been the furthest thing from his mind. He'd had to keep fighting, to keep living. But once he had the time to think about it, to regret, well, it was...

It's different.

There's no other word for it. Everything is different.

Echo has had time, too much time, to think about you, to regret losing you. It's kept him up late into the night cycle, lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, unable to sleep, thoughts running a mile a minute.

You'd been a good person, a better one than he could ever hope to be, and he had loved you, and then he had died.

Or, he had thought he'd died. Turns out he hadn't. That had been the only mercy.

You'd been the first and only person in his entire life to see him as something other than a soldier, and he'd loved you for it. You'd seen him, really seen him, and you hadn't run. He had been terrified by that, but it had also been the best feeling in the world. And he had taken advantage of it. He had let you in, he had let himself fall in love, and then he had died.

It's different, now. He's different. The galaxy's moved on, and he's a ghost, and he's scared. He doesn't know how to face you, doesn't know if he can. So when they’d made it out of Skako Minor and Rex had asked if he wanted to comm you, he’d said no. And he's been saying no every time since.

A small voice inside his head, one that sounds a lot like Fives, tells him that's bullshit.

His brother would have called him out on his cowardice, and Echo thinks that's a fair assessment. But even though he misses you and wants nothing more than to hear your voice, it's better this way. It's better if you don't see him like this, if you never find out the truth. The thought of you seeing him, of you seeing what's left of the man you knew, is too much. He can't do that to you.

It's better if you never see him again. It's better if you have closure, if you've moved on and don't think about him anymore.

You deserve more. You deserve someone who hasn't lost as much as he has, someone who you won't have to worry about, someone who will be there for you.

Someone who can give you the life you want.

Echo knows he can't do that. And maybe if he says that enough times, he'll finally believe it.

“Why are you still here?”

The sound of Tech’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts. He turns and finds his brother watching him from the doorway, an expression of vague curiosity on his face, a soldering iron twirling absently in his hand.

Echo shrugs.

Tech gives a short, impatient huff.

"That is not an answer," he says, crossing his arms and looking pointedly at Echo.

"I was just..." He trails off. Just what? Just looking out the window and moping? He sighs. "Nevermind."

Tech steps into the cockpit, looking unconvinced. Echo can tell he has a question on the tip of his tongue, can see him considering his options. Tech is not the most tactful person in the galaxy, and Echo isn't really in the mood to hear his thoughts, not when they're bound to be blunt. But instead of asking, his brother simply takes his seat beside him and begins tinkering with the dashboard, checking the systems.

The two of them are quiet for a moment, the only sound the clinking of the tools. Then Tech pauses and looks at Echo. 

Echo fidgets under his brother's gaze. "What?"

Tech doesn't respond right away, taking a second to look Echo over. His eyes flicker around the cockpit, as if the gauges and switchboards will give him some kind of clue, before coming back to his brother.

"There is nothing wrong with the ship," he says.

"Okay," Echo says, confused. "So?"

"So," Tech continues, "there is no reason for you to be here. We are scheduled to remain docked until 600 hours, and you have the day off. You could be anywhere."

Echo rolls his eyes, a prickle of annoyance flaring in his chest. "Yeah, well, I'm here, aren't I?"

"Yes, you are," Tech agrees. There's a moment where he considers something, and then he speaks again, "If I may offer a suggestion?"

"Go for it," Echo grumbles, not bothering to look at him.

"Go for a walk."

"A walk?"

"Yes. Physical activity is proven to improve mood and mental health. And you could do with the fresh air."

Echo frowns. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Tech says, not even pausing in his work, "that you've been spending an inordinate amount of time locked away in here."

"I'm not locked away," Echo protests.

"No, I suppose not. But you have not been yourself since we arrived."

Echo doesn't have an answer for that.

"Go for a walk," Tech repeats, and this time he does stop and turn to Echo. He leans back in his chair and removes his goggles, letting them rest on his forehead, and the intensity in his gaze makes Echo squirm a bit.

"Where?"

Tech gestures towards the open space in front of them, the sprawling metropolis. "There are a number of options available, I'm sure. There are parks, shopping districts, museums, restaurants..." He ticks the ideas off on his fingers one by one, and then points back to Echo. "Perhaps you should find out for yourself."

Echo snorts. "Thanks, but no thanks."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to," he says, the words coming out more defensively than he intended. "I'd rather just stay here."

"Yes, I can see that," Tech says dryly, and Echo gets the distinct impression that his brother is making fun of him.

He scowls.

Tech is undeterred. "But I don't think that is what you actually want to do."

Echo's mouth opens to argue, but then closes it just as quickly. He's not sure what to say, not sure if he wants to say anything. Tech isn't wrong. He doesn't really want to stay on the ship, not truly. The idea of getting out and going somewhere is tempting, and if he's being honest with himself, the last thing he wants to do is sit here, stewing in his thoughts alone. Or worse, with Tech.

And he does need to stretch his legs.

He looks out the window again, taking in the sight of the planet before him. He's not sure what's going to happen once they get the signal for the next job, if they'll ever be back. He might never have this opportunity again.

He takes a breath.

"Fine," he says, throwing his hands up in the air. "You win."

Tech's lips twitch, a barely contained smile. "As I usually do."

Echo shakes his head, a grin playing on his lips. He starts to make his way towards the door, and stops beside his brother.

"Thanks," he says, placing a hand on Tech's shoulder.

"You are welcome," Tech nods. “Try to be back by 0600 hours. If you are late, we will leave without you.

Echo snorts. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

He leaves Tech there and heads to the ramp. His steps slow as he reaches the bottom, but he forces himself forward, out into the bright sunlight and fresh air.

Echo spends the next few hours wandering around Coruscant, letting his feet guide him.

He goes wherever the crowds take him, stopping at whatever catches his interest. It's nice, being able to let his mind go blank and not have to worry about where he's going. He doesn't have to think about anything, doesn't have to consider the consequences, or the risks.

He just exists.

And it feels good.

When he eventually decides to turn back, he's a bit surprised at how far he's come. He hadn't intended to venture so deep into the city, had just wanted a walk to clear his head. But the area he's found himself in is one he recognizes.

Your apartment is nearby.

Echo can feel his pulse start to quicken, his palm begins to sweat, and he stops in the middle of the walkway.

The sun has begun to set, and the crowds are thinning. You’ll be on your way home from work soon, if you weren’t already. His brain helpfully supplies the route you would take, and his eyes flit up towards the skyline. He can't see your building, but he knows it's there, not far away.

The knowledge sits heavy in his chest.

No, he tells himself, shaking his head. I shouldn't.

He has no way of knowing if you're even home. For all he knows, you could be busy, out with friends or maybe on a date.

Don't, his mind warns him. She's moved on. You shouldn't.

He hasn't been to your apartment since the morning he left. The memory is a sharp one, a jagged knife cutting through the fog of his past. He remembers the way your bed had felt, the warmth of your body, the sound of your breathing as you slept tucked against him.

It had been so peaceful.

It had been so easy to leave.

His mind starts to replay those moments, the goodbye you had given him, and it's like a punch to the gut. He knows how much you care about him, knows that if you were to see him again, that wouldn't have changed. You wouldn't turn him away.

The night before, you talked for hours. Your conversation had been punctuated with kisses and caresses, laughter and confessions. You told him how much you wanted him to stay, how much you wished he didn't have to leave, how much you wished things could be different. You talked about what the future might hold for the two of you, and he remembers how that felt, how it made him believe, even for just a moment, that things would work out.

They didn't, of course.

But Echo is still here, and so are you, and he can't help but think that maybe, just maybe, the galaxy might be giving him a second chance.

He takes a deep breath.

There's no harm in taking a detour, he thinks.

He walks, following the familiar path, trying not to think too hard about what he's doing.

It doesn't take him long to reach the building. He hesitates in front of it, looking up at the facade. It looks just as it did the last time he was here. Same lobby, same doorman, same lift. They haven’t even fixed the panel that's been sticking, and it takes a good deal of force for him to press the button for your floor.

The doors close, and he stares at his reflection, at the dark circles under his eyes, the scruff that has accumulated on his cheeks and chin, the lines that have appeared at the corners of his eyes and across his forehead. And then his gaze wanders to the ports and implants, the reminder of what was taken from him and what he was left with. He traces the outline of one with his thumb, remembering how he used to be.

He looks tired.

What are you doing? He asks himself.

He's not sure what he's expecting, doesn't have a plan for what will happen. All he knows is that he can't get the image of you out of his head. He imagines you coming home from work, and him being there, waiting. Would you be surprised? Happy? What would you say? What would he say?

Echo sighs.

He's an idiot.

The lift dings, and the doors slide open.

Your apartment is halfway down the hall, and Echo's stomach clenches with each step he takes. He reaches it and stands outside for a minute, running his fingers over the metal door, staring at the numbers painted on the surface.

It's just a door, he tells himself. Nothing special. Just a door.

His hand moves on its own, hovering over the bell. He waits, listens. There's no sound coming from inside, no music, no voices. Maybe you're not home yet.

Or maybe you're out. Maybe you're not alone.

He rings the bell and holds his breath, counting the seconds.

One. Two. Three. Four.

Nothing.

Echo rings again, this time holding the button down for a few extra seconds, listening for any sign of movement.

There's nothing.

The knot in his stomach tightens, and he releases the button, letting out the breath he'd been holding. He runs a hand over his face, feeling the heat of his skin through his glove. He's sweating.

Well, that's it, then.

He'd thought he was prepared for this possibility, but hearing the silence behind the door and knowing that you aren't home has shaken him more than he anticipated.

Maybe this is for the best, he thinks. It's better this way. Safer.

But the disappointment is palpable.

He's not sure what to do. He considers waiting a little longer, just to make sure, but the more he thinks about it, the more stupid it seems. He doesn't belong here anymore. He shouldn't be here, standing outside your door, hoping for something that won't happen.

He needs to go.

As Echo turns away from the door, a voice calls out behind him.

"Can I help you?"

For half a second, he's sure he imagined it, sure that it's just his brain playing tricks on him, taunting him. But then the voice speaks again.

"Are you looking for someone?"

Echo spins around, heart leaping into his throat, and there you are.

Standing there, a few paces away, is the woman he's been dreaming about, the one he's thought about every day, the one he's missed so much that it hurts.

Your hair is different, longer than he's ever seen it, pulled away from your face. You're wearing a dress, something he's only seen a handful of times, and your makeup is impeccable, but he can still see the hint of tiredness behind your eyes. He wonders how many hours you've put in at work this week, how much you've had to fight for your clients.

But the most noticeable change is that you're looking at him. Your datapad is held loosely in your hands, a bag of groceries on your hip, and you’re staring at him, your brow furrowed in confusion.

He doesn’t blame you.

This is a strange situation, and you must be wondering who the hell is standing in front of you, why they rang your bell and then walked away.

"Um," Echo says, suddenly aware that he hasn't spoken. He clears his throat, trying to gather his wits. He didn't think this through. "Hi."

You blink, clearly not expecting that response.

"Hi," you reply, warily.

Echo tries to say something, but the words won't come.

He's frozen in place, staring at you, unable to do anything except take in your appearance, drinking in the sight of you. He didn't realize how much he needed to see you until now, and the relief he feels is overwhelming.

"Do I..." You trail off, studying him carefully. "Do I know you?"

He feels his heart break, just a little.

You don't recognize him. Of course, you wouldn't. It's been so long, and he's not the same man you knew. His face is one of thousands, identical and interchangeable. He doesn't even look like a clone anymore, not really. He's more machine than man, now, and he has no idea how he expected you to see him.

"Yeah," he manages to say, his voice hoarse. "Yeah, you do."

You raise your eyebrows, waiting. When he doesn't say anything else, you take a step towards him, squinting a little. He can feel the tension in his body, can sense your scrutiny. It's not comfortable, but it's not unpleasant, either.

"Sorry," you say, sounding frustrated, "I can't quite —"

You stop, your eyes widening, and Echo can see the exact moment it clicks.

"Oh," you gasp, covering your mouth with a shaking hand. The motion makes the paper bag of groceries on your arm start to slip, and Echo rushes forward to catch it, placing it on the floor by your feet. He stands up, and he can feel your eyes on him, can see the tears beginning to well up, can hear your breathing quicken.

He waits.

"Echo?" Your voice is soft, tentative, like you're not sure if he's real or not. Like he's some kind of ghost. He's not sure that's not what he is.

"Hey, cyar'ika," he says. His voice cracks, and he clears his throat again.

A small, incredulous laugh escapes you.

"Hi," you breathe. You cover your mouth again, trying to stifle the sob that rises from your chest. "I —" 

You let out a shaky breath, and then another, and then all of a sudden, you're crying, tears streaming down your face. Your hands come up to wipe them away, but more keep falling, and Echo is overwhelmed with the desire to hold you, to take away the pain and the sadness, to make everything right. But he doesn't know if he's allowed, doesn't know if it would be welcome. So instead, he just stands there, helpless.

"I'm sorry," you hiccup, wiping your face with the back of your hand. "I can't believe it's you."

He smiles at that, his own eyes burning. "It's me," he confirms. "I'm here."

You're shaking your head, your eyes never leaving his face, as if you're afraid that he might disappear if you look away. He doesn't blame you, and he does his best to stay as still as possible. The last thing he wants is to scare you, or make you think he's going to leave. Not when he just got here.

"I thought..." You start, and then trail off.

"I know."

You swallow hard, taking a moment to compose yourself. "I thought you were dead."

Echo winces. He's heard those words from a lot of people, but coming from you, they hurt. "Yeah, I, uh... I thought so, too, for a while."

He sees the look of horror that crosses your face, the way your eyes grow wet again, and he wishes he hadn't said it.

"How... How long have you been back?" you ask. Your voice is quiet, strained, and Echo can hear the question underneath, the one you're afraid to ask. The one that makes his stomach twist into knots.

"Not long," he answers, trying to keep his tone even, light. "Only a couple months, really."

"Months?" you repeat, incredulous. "You've been back for months?"

Echo shifts uncomfortably and nods. "Yeah."

You stare at him, your mouth opening and closing as you search for words. "And... And you didn't comm me?"

"I, uh... No."

You let out a sharp exhale and turn away, bringing your hands to your face, and he can see that you're starting to shake again. You're silent for a moment, and he can feel his heart pounding, can feel the blood rushing in his ears. His stomach churns, and he feels like he's going to be sick.

"Why?" Your voice is tight, controlled. It's the same voice you use when you're working, the one you use to keep yourself calm, to keep yourself from getting angry.

"I just... I wasn't..." Echo trails off, not sure what to say. I wasn't sure if I was coming back? That's true, but not the whole truth. I wasn't sure you'd want to see me? Also true, but also not the full answer. I wasn't sure I was worth it? Yeah, that's the one.

But he can't say it.

He doesn't know if it's fear or guilt or shame, but whatever it is, it keeps the words stuck in his throat. You're waiting for an answer, and he's not sure he has one.

"Echo," you say, your voice a warning. You turn to face him again, and he can see the hurt and frustration in your eyes. He wants to hold you, wants to apologize, wants to take it all back. But he doesn't move. He can't.

"Why?" you repeat, more forcefully this time.

"I didn't want to bother you," he says. It's the best answer he can come up with, and the worst part is that it's also true. At least, that's what he tells himself.

But the moment the words leave his mouth, he knows it's the wrong thing to say. You stiffen, and then your jaw tightens. He can tell that you're barely holding it together, and he wants to say something, to explain, but he doesn't get the chance.

"You didn't want to bother me," you repeat, and Echo can hear the anger in your voice, can feel the sting of it. "I'm sorry, did I not make it clear how much I care about you?"

"No, you did," Echo says, backtracking, trying to placate you. "You did, I promise."

"Then please explain how you thought keeping me in the dark about the fact that the man I love was still alive and well was not a bother."

The word "love" hits him like a punch to the gut.

You love him. You still love him. You're still here, and you're still loving him, even after everything. He doesn't understand, doesn't know why. Doesn't know how. But he doesn't have time to think about it, not with the way you're looking at him, the hurt and confusion clear on your face.

"That's not what I meant," he says, his voice low, pleading. "It's not that. I promise."

You let out a shaky sigh, crossing your arms over your chest. "What's the difference, then?"

Echo opens his mouth, and then closes it again, not knowing what to say.

"I mourned you," you say. Your voice is soft, almost a whisper, but it sounds loud in the silence between the two of you. "I loved you, and I mourned you, and I was doing okay, and then you just show up, and act like it's no big deal, like I didn't spend weeks, months waiting for you to come back, hoping you'd come back, and..."

Your voice cracks, and a fresh wave of tears begins to roll down your cheeks. Echo reaches out to brush them away, and you flinch. The motion stings, but he doesn't say anything, doesn't push it. He lets his hand drop to his side.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't... I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Yeah, well, you did," you say, sniffling.

The words hit him harder than he expects, and he feels his throat tighten.

"I didn't know what to say," he admits, his voice breaking. "I didn't know what to do."

"Why not?" you ask, and your anger has softened, turning into something else. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No!" Echo says quickly. "Of course not. You were perfect. You were... You were amazing."

You look at him, and there's a vulnerability in your eyes that makes him want to gather you in his arms and never let go. He thinks maybe he should. But before he can, you speak.

"So what happened?" you ask. Your voice is quiet, but Echo can hear the desperation, the need for an answer. "Where were you? Why didn't you come back?"

“I—“ Echo looks around, suddenly aware of the hallway and the closed doors surrounding him, closing in on him. The space is too small, the walls are too close, the air is too thick. He feels trapped, like the world is closing in around him, and he takes a step back.

"Can we... Can we not do this out here?" he asks, trying not to let his voice betray his panic.

You study him for a moment, considering. He doesn't blame you. After all, he'd shown up out of the blue, and you had every right to be suspicious. You're still crying, but there's a steeliness in your gaze, and he can tell you're weighing your options, deciding if he's worth it or not. His heart hammers against his ribs as he waits, praying that you'll give him a chance.

Finally, you let out a sigh and nod.

"Yeah," you say, "sure."

You bend down to pick up the groceries, and Echo rushes forward, scooping them up before you can. You look at him, surprised.

"Let me help," he says. "Please."

You hesitate, and Echo can see the worry on your face, but then you nod, fumbling for the keypad. The lock clicks open, and you push the door open, motioning for him to go ahead.

He steps inside, and the familiar scent of your apartment hits him hard. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed it, how much he'd come to associate it with safety and comfort. It makes his chest ache, and he takes a moment to steady himself, willing the tears to stop.

Your apartment is the same, and yet so different.

It's still cozy, but there's a coldness to the air, a lack of warmth. The curtains are closed, and the room is dark, the only light coming from the dim bulb above the stove in the kitchen. There are dishes stacked in the sink, and a few pieces of dirty laundry have been discarded on the couch. The floor is littered with shoes and other miscellaneous items, as if someone came home and kicked everything off their feet, leaving it all in a pile. Echo’s brow furrows at the mess, and he wonders when you started to let the place get this way.

"I'm sorry," you say, sounding embarrassed. You take the bag of groceries from him, your cheeks flushed. "I wasn't expecting company."

"Don't worry about it," he assures you.

"Here, let me..." You trail off, disappearing down the hall, and a moment later, he hears a door slam shut.

Echo stands there, unsure of what to do. His gaze wanders around the room, taking everything in, trying to find something to occupy himself with. It feels like years since he's been here, and the sensation is both comforting and strange. He remembers the nights he spent curled up next to you on the couch, the quiet mornings in the kitchen, the lazy afternoons spent in bed.

He shakes his head, trying to focus on the present.

You're back now, and he needs to concentrate.

He takes a seat at the kitchen table, drumming his fingers against the wood.

It's quiet, but Echo can hear you moving around, and he wonders if you're trying to clean up, trying to make the place a little more presentable. He doesn't care about any of that. He cares about you.

And he doesn't know what to say.

He runs his hand over his face, pressing the heel of his palm into his eye, trying to think. He's rehearsed this moment in his head, has imagined all the different ways it could go.

And now that it's actually happening, he can't remember a single one.

He's such an idiot.

The minutes pass, and you finally return. He hears you enter the room, the soft sound of your footsteps, but he can't bring himself to look up. Not yet.

"Echo," you say, and he can hear the hesitation in your voice. "What happened?"

"I don't know where to start," he confesses, dropping his hand and glancing up at you.

You've changed into something more comfortable, a pair of sweatpants and your favorite sweater, and your face is scrubbed clean, makeup-free. It's nice to see you this way, a reminder of the times you shared together, and the sight makes him smile.

"Why are you smiling?"

"Nothing, it's just..." He pauses, his eyes wandering over you. "I forgot how you looked in sweatpants."

You roll your eyes, but there's a hint of amusement on your face. "Seriously? You're sitting here, after being missing for months, and you're making fun of my fashion choices?"

"I'm not making fun of you," he says, chuckling. The pressure in his chest eases slightly, and he takes a breath. "I just meant that I missed seeing you this way."

You let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh, and then shake your head.

"You're unbelievable," you mutter.

Echo smiles, and for a moment, he feels normal. As if the last year never happened, and this was just a day like any other. As if he'd just come home from a mission, and you'd greet him with a kiss, and everything would be fine.

But then you sigh, and the moment is over.

"Look, I get that this is... Well, I'm sure this isn't what you were expecting," you say. You move to sit across from him, leaning your elbows on the table and resting your chin in your hands. "But we can't keep pretending like nothing happened. You have to talk to me."

Echo stares at you, his eyes taking in the familiar lines of your face, the curve of your lips, the color of your eyes. They aren’t as bright as he remembered, not as full of life, and the realization breaks his heart. This isn't how it's supposed to be.

"Okay," he begins, clearing his throat. "So, uh, this is going to be a lot."

"That's okay," you say gently. You give him a reassuring nod, and Echo feels a swell of gratitude for you. "Just... Start at the beginning, and we'll go from there."

"Right, the beginning." Echo nods, trying to organize his thoughts, and then he starts to speak.

He tells you everything, from the moment the explosion happened, to the moment he woke up and found himself in Rex's arms, everything in between. He tells you about his injuries, the surgeries, the physical therapy. He tells you about his time with the Batch, his newfound abilities, the things he's been able to do, the things he's learned. He talks about the missions, the jobs, the danger they've faced, and the risks they've taken. He tells you about the planets, the people, the experiences. He tries to leave nothing out, even the hard parts. The loss, the pain, the fear. He doesn't want to spare you any of it.

You sit there and listen, asking questions when necessary, but mostly staying silent. And when he's done, he sits there, feeling a strange sense of relief. He hadn't realized how much he needed to talk about everything, how much he'd been holding in. And he hadn't realized how good it would feel to tell you. To have someone who cared, someone he trusted, who knew him better than anyone.

When the words run out, and the room is silent, you let out a long, slow exhale. You sit there, your hands folded together, your gaze fixed on the tabletop, and Echo waits, not sure what to expect. But the longer the silence drags on, the more worried he gets.

"Cyar'ika?" he asks, his voice hesitant.

You take a breath and look up at him, and Echo is startled to see that your eyes are glassy, and there are fresh tear tracks running down your cheeks.

"Sorry," you apologize, wiping at them with your sleeve. "I'm not — I just..."

You take another breath, and then let it out, composing yourself. "Thank you," you say. "For telling me. I know that can't have been easy."

"It wasn't," Echo admits, and his throat tightens a little. "But I'm glad I did."

You offer him a small smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. You look like you’re far away, lost in your own thoughts, and Echo has a feeling you're not fully present, not in the moment. And he doesn't blame you. His words can't have been easy to hear.

"Is there anything else you want to know?" he asks, trying to break the silence.

You glance at him, your eyes focusing, and then look away, your jaw clenching. Echo can see the emotion on your face, can tell that you're struggling to stay calm, to hold it together. You've always been good at that, he thinks.

"I just..." You pause, taking a shaky breath, and Echo can see the tears forming in your eyes again. "I just don't understand."

He frowns, confused. "What do you mean?"

You close your eyes, taking a moment to collect yourself. Then, you stand up and begin pacing around the kitchen, your hands clasped behind your back. You move slowly, deliberately, your gaze fixed on the floor, like you're trying to make sense of something, figure something out. 

Echo watches you, feeling uneasy. You're not giving anything away, and the silence is starting to get to him. He's never seen you in the courtroom, but he imagines this is the stance you take when you're interrogating a witness. 

It's effective.

"Can you say something, please?" he asks. He knows he sounds desperate, but he doesn't care.

"I'm thinking," you say, and Echo bites his lip.

He feels like he's going to crawl out of his skin. He wants to get up, to follow you around the room, try to coax a response out of you. He wants to make this better, to make this right. But he knows that pushing you won't help, so he stays seated, trying to keep his patience.

 You continue to pace, your expression blank, and the seconds tick by, the only sound the muffled noises of the city outside. It feels like an eternity has passed when you finally stop, standing in front of him, your arms crossed.

"I can't believe you thought I wouldn't want to see you," you say. Your voice is low, almost a whisper, and there's an edge to it that Echo doesn't recognize. It's not anger, not exactly. It's something else, something deeper.

"I know," he replies, his voice just as quiet.

"I thought you were dead," you say, the words coming out in a rush. "I grieved you. I mourned you. And then you show up, and you're... You're alive, and you're here, and you think the best thing to do is to leave me alone?"

"I didn't know what would happen," Echo explains, trying to keep his tone calm. "I wasn't sure if I was coming back, and I didn't want to —"

"No," you say sharply, cutting him off. "That's not an excuse. That's bullshit, and you know it."

Echo swallows, and nods, not sure what to say.

"We made promises," you continue, and Echo can hear the anger in your voice, can see the frustration on your face. "To each other. We talked about our future, we said things that... We made things that were real, and then you just decided it was too much, and you walked away. What the hell is that?"

"I'm sorry," Echo says around the lump forming in his throat. "I shouldn't have —"

"No," you interrupt, your eyes burning. "You shouldn't have."

Echo looks at you, and he feels like he's going to shatter. You’re staring at him with such intensity, and there's an anger in your gaze that he hasn't seen before. It's so different from the gentle look you usually give him, and it makes him ache.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," he says. "I swear, I didn't."

"Then why did you?" you ask, and there's a note of pleading in your voice. “I spent so long wondering, worrying, and you just... You didn't care."

"Of course I did," he argues. "It wasn't about that."

"Then what was it about, Echo?" you demand. "What was so important that you thought you couldn't tell me? That you couldn't comm me, or send a message, or do anything that would have let me know you were alive? That would have told me you were okay?"

"I didn't think —"

"What, that I'd care? That I'd worry? That I'd miss you? That I'd wonder where you were, and if you were okay, and what the hell happened to you?" you say, your voice rising.

Echo can feel the frustration building inside him, and he knows he shouldn't respond, knows that getting angry won't help, but the words tumble out before he can stop them. "I'm sorry," he snaps. "I wasn't exactly thinking clearly."

"That's not an excuse," you snap back, and Echo blinks, shocked. You're the most level-headed person he's ever met, and he's never heard you yell before.

"Yeah, well, it's the best one I've got," he says.

"Echo, I loved you," you say, and the past tense stings. "When Fives told me what happened to you, I —" Your voice catches, and the fight goes out of him. He can see the pain on your face, the hurt in your eyes, and he can't help but feel responsible. "I can't even describe it. It felt like my whole world was ending. And I don’t blame you for doing your duty, but I do blame you for not coming back to me."

"I know," he whispers. "I'm sorry. I really am."

You shake your head, turning away from him. "Why didn't you comm me?"

Echo hesitates. He doesn't want to admit his fears, his worries, the insecurities that have plagued him. He doesn't want to tell you how much he doubted, how much he doubted you. It feels too vulnerable, too raw. And it would only make you feel worse. But the longer the silence stretches, the more you deserve the truth. And he can't avoid it forever.

"I didn't think I was worth it," he says, his voice low. He can feel the heat in his cheeks, the sting of embarrassment. He can't look at you, doesn't want to see the pity, the disappointment, the anger. "I didn't think I was worth it."

You turn to face him, your expression softening.

"You were all I had left," he says. He feels exposed, and it's not a comfortable feeling, but he can't stop now. Not with the way you're looking at him. Not when he's so close to fixing this, to getting you back. "After everything that happened, I just... I couldn't bring myself to do it. I didn't think you'd want to see me."

"You really thought I'd just leave you?"

Echo can hear the hurt in your voice, and he's surprised at the sharpness of it. He expected to be met with some amount of anger, but he didn't expect it to cut so deep. He didn't think his insecurities would upset you so much. He's used to it, by now. After everything he's been through, the doubts and worries have become a constant, an almost comforting presence. But you were never supposed to know about them.

"It's not that," he says. "I know you wouldn't have left me. It's just... I didn't want to drag you down with me."

"That's stupid," you reply. There's no malice in your voice, but there's no sympathy, either. "What makes you think I couldn't handle it?"

"It's not about what you could handle," Echo says. "You didn't sign up for this. You didn't sign up for any of it."

"I signed up for you," you argue, and Echo is startled by the fierceness of your tone.

"And look at what that got you."

You fall silent, and Echo regrets the words the second they leave his mouth. He's always known he wasn't good enough for you, but it's different to actually say it out loud. It makes it real. And he's not sure he's ready for that. But you're looking at him like you can't believe he said it, and the disappointment in your eyes makes him feel even worse. 

Your eyes rove over him, taking in the scarring, the metal implants, the ports and wires, the armor. You look like you’re seeing him for the first time, and the disgust and fear he’d thought might appear are nowhere to be found, just a profound sense of sadness and resignation.

"Oh, Echo," you breathe. The words are quiet, but they feel like a slap, and he has to look away, not wanting to meet your gaze.

"I'm not the man you knew," he says. He sounds defeated, even to his own ears. His eyes are burning, and he has to fight to keep the tears from falling. He hates how weak he feels, how small, how vulnerable. "I can't be. I'm... I'm not him anymore."

"Yes, you are," you insist. You reach out and take his hand, squeezing gently, and the sensation makes him jump. He'd almost forgotten how warm you are, how soft. How safe. He wants to hold on, to pull you close, to never let go. "You're still the same man, the same Echo, I just..."

"What?" he asks, when you trail off. "You just what?"

You sigh, dropping his hand and running your fingers through your hair, tugging lightly. The familiar gesture makes him ache. "I don't know, Echo," you admit. "I'm... I'm sad. And I'm angry. But I'm mostly just... Confused."

"Confused about what?"

"I'm confused as to why you didn't come back to me," you say. "I'm confused as to why you thought I'd want anything else."

"I thought you deserved better," he says, the words sounding hollow, even to his own ears. "I thought you deserved someone who was whole, who could give you a normal life, who didn't have a hundred years of baggage and trauma to deal with. And I was terrified that you already had that."

"Had what?"

"A normal life," he answers. "Without me. And the more I thought about it, the more I convinced myself it was true."

"It's not," you say. Your voice is quiet, but firm, and Echo looks at you, searching for any trace of doubt, of hesitation, of insincerity. But all he finds is determination, and it makes his heart clench. The intensity in your gaze is too much, and he has to look away. His eyes trail over the walls, the ceiling, the floor, lingering on the groceries on the table, the dishes in the sink, the empty bottles of wine shoved into the trash, the pile of laundry on the couch. There’s a dent in the wall that wasn't there the last time he was here, and the carpet is worn. He wonders when that happened.

He feels a tug on his arm, and then you're reaching up to cup his face, your hands soft and warm. You turn his head to face you, your thumb stroking his cheek. The touch is gentle, comforting, and Echo can't stop the sigh that escapes him. It's been so long since someone touched him like this, and it's nice. It's more than nice. It's familiar. It's safe. It's home.

"I only wanted you," you whisper.

"Even after everything?" he asks. He doesn't mean to sound so incredulous, but he can't help it. He's spent so long convincing himself that you were better off without him, and now, hearing you say the opposite, hearing you say the words he'd only ever hoped for, the ones he'd tried to convince himself were true... It's a lot to take in.

"Even after everything," you affirm.

"You could have had anyone," he says. "Why me?"

"Because I love you," you answer, as if it's the simplest thing in the galaxy. As if it's the most obvious thing in the universe. "And I don't want anyone else."

"Cyar'ika..." His voice cracks, and the tears are falling freely now. You wipe them away, and the touch makes his chest ache.

"I've never stopped loving you, Echo," you say. Your voice is barely audible, but Echo hears it. And it's the best sound he's ever heard. "And I don't plan on stopping now."

"I'm sorry," he says. "I'm sorry I left you, and I'm sorry I didn't comm you, and I'm sorry I was such a coward, and I'm —"

"Shh," you murmur, cutting him off. "I forgive you."

Echo can't speak. He's not sure he can move, can't even breathe. The relief is overwhelming, and it threatens to knock him off his feet. His chest tightens, and the tears won't stop falling, and he doesn't know what to do. He's missed you so much, has regretted leaving every single day, and now that you're here, now that he has you back, he can't find the words to express how grateful he is, how relieved, how happy.

"You really thought I was going to leave you?" you ask, and Echo can hear the note of humor in your voice, can see the ghost of a smile on your face. It's reassuring, and he lets himself smile, too.

"Honestly? Yes," he admits.

"Never," you reply.

Echo leans down and rests his forehead against yours, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. You move your hands down his face, brushing the tears away with your thumbs, before bringing them around his neck, wrapping your arms around him. He moves to do the same, pulling you closer and wrapping his arms around your waist. You let out a quiet gasp of surprise, and Echo chuckles, holding you tighter.

"I missed you," he whispers, and it feels good to say the words out loud. "So much."

"I missed you, too," you say, your breath warm against his neck. You tilt your head and press a kiss against his throat, and Echo feels his heart stutter. "More than I can say."

Echo hums and pulls away, bringing his hand up to brush the hair away from your face. Your skin is warm, and soft, and he leans in and presses a kiss against your forehead, savoring the contact. You sigh, and he can't resist the urge to kiss you again, this time on the cheek.

"Echo," you murmur, letting out a shaky breath.

He kisses the corner of your mouth, and then your jaw, and your grip on his neck tightens, your fingers digging into the fabric of his blacks. He moves down your throat, trailing kisses along the column of your neck, and you gasp.

"I missed you, too," he murmurs, and you laugh.

"Yeah, I got that," you say. "Now, will you please kiss me?"

Echo smiles and obliges.

The kiss is soft and sweet, and it tastes like home. He cups the back of your neck, his scomp moving to rest on your hip, and you let out a pleased noise, your hands sliding down to his shoulders. The warmth of your mouth, the way your lips part, the little gasps and sighs you make, it all makes him want to get closer, to be nearer.

You break the kiss, and Echo lets out a quiet whimper. You chuckle and rest your head on his shoulder, and Echo brings his hand up to stroke your hair, his fingers combing through the strands. You sigh and lean into his touch, and he can't help the contented smile that spreads across his face.

"I'm glad you're here," you murmur. "I'm glad you came back."

"Me, too," he says. He tilts your head up and presses a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering. You close your eyes and nuzzle his neck, and Echo sighs, holding you close. It feels so good to have you in his arms again, to be able to hold you, and he wishes he could stay here forever. But the reality of the situation catches up with him, and he can't help the wave of guilt that washes over him.

"I'm sorry, Cyar'ika," he says.

You frown, and pull away slightly. "What are you apologizing for?"

"I didn't think this through," he admits. "I... I didn't know what was going to happen, and now..." He pauses, letting out a frustrated sigh. "I just... I'm sorry. I’m leaving soon, and I know it's going to be hard, and I know you're going to have to say goodbye again, and I'm —"

"Echo," you interrupt, and your voice is firm. You put your hand on his chest, and he can feel the heat of it, even through the layers of armor and clothing. "I know what I signed up for. I'm not expecting anything different."

"But —"

"No," you cut him off. "No buts. I knew what this was, Echo. And I still want it."

"But you shouldn't have to," Echo argues. "I don't want to put you through that."

"Well, it's a little late for that," you reply. Your tone is sharp, and Echo winces. "Look, Echo. I know the situation isn't ideal, but I'm not going to walk away because it's hard. And I'm not going to stop caring just because it hurts." You look at him, and the determination in your gaze makes his heart skip a beat. "You're worth it, okay? No matter what."

"Cyar'ika —"

"No," you say, shaking your head. "You're not changing my mind. You can try, but it's not going to work. So don't waste your time." You give him a stern look, and then your face softens. "Okay?"

"Okay," Echo agrees. He knows it's futile to argue. He's never been able to say no to you. Not when it matters. "I'm still sorry, though."

You roll your eyes, and then stand on your toes and give him a quick kiss. "You're lucky I love you," you say, and the words make him feel lighter.

"Yeah, I am," he agrees, grinning.

"So, what now?" you ask.

Echo shrugs, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. He's been so focused on finding you, on convincing you to forgive him, on making things right, that he hasn't thought about what comes next. The prospect of it is both exhilarating and terrifying, and he doesn't know where to start. There's so much to do, and so little time. And he doesn't want to waste another second.

"Do you want to stay?" you offer.

"Stay?"

"Here," you clarify. "For a while. I don't know how long you can, but..." You pause, a flush spreading across your cheeks. “I was going to make dinner. If you wanted to stay."

"Dinner?" Echo repeats, and he can't hide the excitement in his voice. The idea of a home-cooked meal is so far removed from his life now, so distant, that the thought of it almost makes him lightheaded. "Really?"

You laugh, and the sound fills him with warmth. "Yes, Echo. Really."

"What are you making?" he asks. The question sounds childish, and he can't believe how eager he is, how excited.

"Just a simple dish," you say. You move towards the counter and begin putting the groceries away, and Echo follows you, a smile spreading across his face. While you tell him about the recipe, he moves toward your sink, picking up a dish and turning the water on. You look over at him, and the fondness in your eyes makes him blush. "You don't have to do that, Echo."

"I know," he replies. "I want to."

"Well, alright then."

The two of you work together, talking and laughing as you wash the dishes and prepare the food. Echo feels lighter than he has in months, and it's a relief to be here with you, to have something normal and familiar to do. Something so domestic, so ordinary, and yet, so special.

He wants to remember this.

When the food is ready, you gesture to the table, and Echo takes a seat. You sit across from him, and for a moment, the two of you just look at each other. He's missed you, missed this. Missed being here, missed having someone who knew him, someone he could trust. Someone he could love.

You're both quiet, and Echo can see the wheels turning in your head, can see the way your eyes dart over him, taking everything in. You're cataloging, committing him to memory too. The realization hits him, and his chest tightens. He'll be leaving soon, and you're doing what you can to make sure you won't forget him. It's a sobering thought, and he's not sure how to handle it.

"Hey," you say, and Echo looks up, meeting your gaze. "It's okay. We'll be fine."

"How did you know?" he asks, startled.

You shrug. "It's written all over your face."

"I'm sorry," he murmurs. "I wish I could stay."

"It's okay," you repeat. “We have the night, and that’s more than enough. For now, let's just enjoy the time we have."

Echo nods.

You're right.

You always are.

You smile, and it's so beautiful, so genuine, that it takes his breath away. You reach across the table and take his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He squeezes back, and you lean forward, resting your elbows on the table and putting your chin in your hand. The way you're looking at him, the affection in your eyes, it makes him feel like he's the only thing that matters, like he’s home.

And, right now, he is.

He's missed this.

He's missed you.

And as the two of you sit there, enjoying each other's company, Echo knows he's made the right choice. He knows that coming back was worth it, that finding you, fixing things, making things right, it's all been worth it. And he knows that, no matter what, he'll be back.

He'll find his way back to you.

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia

@spicy-clones @kindalonleystars @cw80831 @totallyunidentified @heidnspeak

@lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @puppetscenario

@umekohiganbana @resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano

@burningnerdchild @ihatesaaand @lolwey @hobbititties @mere-bear

@thegreatpipster @lordofthenerds97 @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @mali-777

@schrodingersraven @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon @dreamie411 @sukithebean

@bimboshaggy @anything-forourmoony @9902sgirl @jedi-dreea @salaminus

@ghostymarni @gottalovehistory @burningnerdchild @yoitsjay @callsign-denmark

@julli-bee @sonicrainbooms @captn-trex @feral-ferrule @webslinger-holland

@marchingviolinist @deerspringdreams

[coffeeandbatboys]

Helloooooo!

Congratulating you muchly on your follower milestone, so kriffing proud of you!

For the prompts, could I please request

Echo (tbb)

7

🥰

Thank you and congrats again, you are AMAZING!!

Thankuuuu!! Oml as soon as I checked which prompt this was I started getting ideas!

Prompt is: Writing little notes on post-its and leaving them in random places to read.

270 follower celebration og post

Warnings: none. Echo being a cute lil shit from across the galaxy. Reader works at Cid’s tavern

Flimsi love notes (Tbb!Echo x Reader)

The first one you found was in your apron. His Aurabesh might have been a little screwed since his left hand wasn’t his dominant, but you could read Echo’s handwriting anywhere.

“If you’re reading this I’m probably thinking of you cyare. Love you and be safe. I’ll be back soon.”

Ever since the Bad Batch had stumbled into Cid’s tavern, you’d had your eye on him. To this day he couldn’t understand why out of every member of the batch you chose him, but hey. He couldn’t complain.

There would always be one where he knew you’d see it every time he was away. Sometimes they would be tucked behind the mirror in your ‘fresher, other times in your bag, or under your pillow where he knew you’d slide your hand before you went to sleep.

Cid’s growl came from across the room.

“Hey laser brain! Bar needs to be cleaned off. There’s another note over here for ya. You kriffing lovebirds are going to be the death of me.”

You sighed and picked up the washrag, only stopping to take a peek at the aforementioned note.

“How’s my Mesh’la doing today, huh? Call me later tonight.”

Maker, this man might not be perfect, but he was certainly trying. You finished your shift at the bar and walked home, anticipating to hear his voice after a long day. You dropped your bag at the door and flopped down on the bed, pulling out your comm.

“Mesh’la?” He answered. You smiled at the warmth in his voice.

“I got your note, Echo. You are the sweetest.”

He laughed, voice low and raspy. “I try my best. How was your day?”

“Long and boring. I’m about ready to quit and demand that Hunter let me join you guys.”

“That wouldn’t be a bad idea, but some training would be needed.”

“Well lucky me I’ve got one of the best ARC troopers for a boyfriend.”

“I’m the only ARC trooper you know, Mesh’la.”

“And you’re the best in my book.”

“Can you do something for me really quick?”

Your eyebrows scrunched. “Sure?”

“Unlock your door.”

You didn’t move. “What?”

“Unlock the door!”

Something clicked in your head and you scrambled off of the bed to your front door. Throwing it open, you practically burst with happiness when you saw him.

“ECHO!” You screeched, throwing yourself into his arms. He laughed lightly. “We got done early. Figured you could use another surprise to keep you on your toes.”

“I’ve come to expect anything and everything from you, Echo.” You mumbled into his shoulder. “Just never know what’s next.”

He pressed a kiss to your temple and nuzzled his nose in your hair.

“Love you Mesh’la. So much.”

You tighten your arms around him. “Love you too, Echo. Even more.”

[soaringthroughthegalaxy]

Kibo and Kisses

Taking a breather on a remote planet after working yet another job for Cid, Echo steals away with you for a moment.

Pairing: Echo x f!reader

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: cuteness, sweetness, fluff, Echo is self-conscious but we love him, eavesdropping brothers, idiots in love, first kiss, pet names/nicknames, brief mention of Fives (who else was Echo going to learn some moves from?)

Translations: Uj’ika – kinda like ‘cupcake’

He was sweet behind all the gruffness and bad puns. If anything, it just added to his charm. War changed many men, and being kept prisoner, body altered without consent, and mind used to defeat your brethren? Yeah, that would undoubtedly change a man.

You wouldn’t think it, though, watching Echo listen intently to Omega’s story, laughing at the right moments and nodding to encourage her to continue. She only had a handful of stories, late-night tales Nala Se used to tell her back on Kamino, but she could remember them like the back of her hand, and once she grew tired of the boy’s war stories and the ones about your childhood, she would share hers.

You’d lost track of how long you’d been roaming the galaxy with Omega and the boys. Cid had insisted you accompany them on a mission, and that mission rolled to two and then to three…

Shaking your head fondly, a sigh slipped from between your lips. The Trandoshan had given you such a sly smile when she’d shoved you onto a ship with four charming men and a cute kid.

“He’s not going to disappear, you know.” Warmth blossomed in your chest as Hunter sat next to you on the crudely made wooden bench you’d fashioned shortly after landing two rotations ago on Yavin 4. While the boys had armour to protect their behinds from the damp grass, you and Omega didn’t have that luxury.

“Don’t know what you mean.” You lied, tilting your head to meet the Sergeant’s gaze, squinting a little as the setting sun dared to blind you.

“Mhm.” The corners of Hunter’s lips quirked up in amusement, but he refrained from pushing his point too far. Watching you moon over his brother from afar was adorable and frustrating that you were too stubborn and anxious to do anything about it. “What story is Omega telling this time?” He switched topics, noting how the tension melted slightly from your shoulders.

“You’re the one with the enhanced hearing, you tell me.” You rocked to the side, lightly nudging Hunter’s arm with your shoulder. You’d grown up with a brother, and though the war had taken him from you, it had also graced you with a few new ones.

Turning your gaze back to Echo and Omega, you waited as Hunter tuned in to their conversation. At first, his ability to eavesdrop from afar had caught you off guard, forcing you to switch to your mother tongue when quietly cussing anyone on the ship out. Still, you found amusement in using it to your advantage, twisting Hunter’s arm until he would eavesdrop on gossiping women in marketplaces or creepy men with lousy pick-up lines in cantinas.

“It’s not a Nala Se special.” He admitted, eyebrows rising closer to his hairline as Echo’s laughter filled the tiny clearing Tech had set the Marauder down in. “Did you tell someone that you prefer they take you for dinner before calling you names?”

The colour drained from your face, and your jaw slackened. “Oh no.” You squeaked, wide eyes watching the way Echo’s whole frame shook with laughter, while Omega grinned, oblivious to the true meaning behind the comeback you’d snapped at the rude market attendant the last time you’d touched down for supplies.

Turning your gaze to Hunter, his thinly veiled amusement had you stammering out an explanation. “A- A fruit vendor wasn’t looking where he was going. He walked into us. His goods went everywhere. He called me some choice names; I told him I preferred dinner beforehand – it slipped out before I could stop it. Oh, Maker, you think Omega knows what I meant?”

Allowing himself to chuckle at the horror on your face, Hunter stood, bringing a large hand down to land on your shoulder. “I hope not but try not to make such comments around the innocent child next time. I don’t think any of us are ready to have that talk with her yet.” He shook his head in disbelief, smile firmly in place as he retreated onto the ship.

“Omega.” You called out, desperately hoping to stop her from telling any more stories before she embarrassed you further.

Your voice drew the young girl’s attention, and with a quick wave of your hand, she came racing across the clearing, stopping right in front of you. Echo trailed behind her, his pace much more languid. “What is it?” Omega offered you a sweet smile, rocking on the spot with her hands locked behind her back.

“It’s getting dark, and we should head inside.” You gestured to the setting sun, which had dropped a little further towards the horizon since you’d first sat down to watch Omega and Echo.

Frowning, the young clone glared at the sun before returning her smile to you. “But you and Echo are out here with me.” She retorted, tampering down her grin as she watched Echo sit beside you on the bench, his knee lightly knocking against yours.

Grateful he couldn’t hear your heart hammering away at the physical contact, you bit down on the inside of your lip. “I know, but it’s bedtime.” You insisted. You tried to keep a routine for her, conscious that she was young and growing. Omega never skipped a meal, even if it meant you did on the quiet, and where possible, she got eight hours of sleep.

“I’m not tired.” Omega’s smile turned to a pout. She wasn’t ready for the evening to end.

“It’s been a long day. You’ll fall asleep as soon as you’re in bed and have Lula.” Echo chimed in, catching how your shoulders relaxed as he took the reins. He enjoyed that you mothered Omega, offering her one of the things that they had been deprived of. But he also knew how difficult it could be, especially when the child in question wasn’t your own. There were invisible boundaries to negotiate and rules to establish, but whenever he felt you might need a helping hand, he was more than willing to step up. Sometimes, it was good to remind himself that Omega was still a child, even if she was older than him and his brothers.

Shooting Echo a thankful smile, you returned your focus to the quiet girl before you. She looked to be contemplating Echo’s words. It was time for the big guns. “Besides, you’ll need plenty of energy if we’re going to track down a Ysalamiri tomorrow.”

Omega’s face lit up brighter than the suns of Tatooine. “We’re going to go and find one?” She gasped. When you’d landed, Tech had pulled out his datapad to research the planet. He’d found a list of native plants and animals, pointing out which ones to avoid. Omega had caught sight of the Ysalamiri and loved the non-threatening, furry creatures.

“Yep, so you’ll need your sleep. They’re fast and live in the trees, so we might need to do some climbing.” You explained, silently praying Hunter wasn’t actively listening to the conversation. He would have a fit if he knew you’d scramble amongst the branches, but it was part of a normal childhood.

“Will you come too, Echo?” Omega swung her wide gaze to her brother, pleading for him to join them.

Eyes widening as he was put on the spot, Echo stalled for a moment. He’d told Tech that he would help him perform maintenance on the ship in the morning, but was he about to give up the chance to explore with you? “Sure.” He decided, knowing he’d have to break the news to Tech. His brother could maintain the ship alone, but Echo didn’t want him to bear the weight alone. “I’d be more than happy to escort my favourite girls.” It slipped out before he could stop it, and he studiously kept his eyes on Omega, ignoring the weight of your soft gaze on his profile.

“I’ll go to bed then.” Omega declared, conceding with a grin that had you narrowing your eyes in her direction. What was going on in that young girl’s mind?

Opening his arms, Echo accepted Omega’s goodnight hug. It had taken a short while for him to grow accustomed to the action – a shoulder thump was the usual level of affection his brothers gave, and he was conscious that his cybernetics made everything uncomfortable and awkward. Sometimes he wondered if he could swap his scomp out for a proper arm and hand, but they didn’t have the credits or time to purchase and make such adjustments.

Omega threw herself into your arms after hugging her brother, giving you a tight squeeze before she bounded into the Marauder, leaving you with Echo.

“If you’d rather have a girl’s day tomorrow, that’s okay. I know you and Omega enjoy your time together.” Echo broke the momentary silence. As much as he wanted, no yearned, to join you tomorrow, he would respect your decision. You and Omega didn’t get much time to explore marketplaces or local fairgrounds together, and he would hate to take that from you.

“I’d love for you to come with us.” You stated, reaching up to tuck an errant strand of hair behind your ear.

Echo wasn’t entirely convinced. “You sure?” He gave you one last out. “Feels like you haven’t wanted to be around me lately. You left the cockpit quickly the other day when we swapped watch.” He added dejectedly, shrugging his shoulders as if he didn’t care.

Your heart ached, and your mind berated you. You’d just wanted a little space to determine whether your adoration for the man at your side was genuine or forged because you lived in each other’s pockets. Some hypothetical questions had been posed to Tech, your confidence in the man’s research capabilities unquestionable, and done a lot of soul searching.

Reaching out for him, your hand found purchase on his scomp, and though he couldn’t feel anything from the rigid metal, you still gave him a gentle squeeze. “Ecks.” The nickname slipped out quickly as you scooted closer, registering the flicker of surprise across his face at the new name. “I’m sorry, I’ve had much on my mind lately. You didn’t do or say anything wrong; it was just me getting stuck in my head.” You explained. “Of course, I want to be around you, and I’d love for you to come with us tomorrow.”

The frown creasing Echo’s brow disappeared at your reassurance, but your words kept playing over in his mind. What have you been thinking about? Could he help ease the weight of it, if only for a little while? “You should probably rest too then, uj’ika, if we’re to keep up with Omega. And don’t tell me you’re not tired. You yawned twice when Hunter was handing out rations.” Echo chided. You might’ve thought you were being subtle, but from the vantage point of his bunk, Echo could see the faint glow of your datapad screen each night as you stayed up late.

The term of endearment made you smile, but you were still none the wiser about the meaning. The first time Echo had used it, Wrecker had given a hearty chuckle, Hunter and Tech shooting you amused smiles before glancing at each other – communicating in that silent way only the Batch boys could. With Hunter’s words from earlier playing through your mind, you took a small leap of faith. “I should, but I was thinking about going for a small walk – want to join me?” You offered, rising to your feet and offering the sweet man before you your hand.

Echo hesitated. He wanted to go with you, Maker, he did, but he was supposed to be on watch with Tech. “Go.” Tech’s voice clipped through his cybernetic headpiece, and Echo gladly placed his hand in your own, rising to his feet as he watched the momentary confusion marring your features smooth into a beautiful smile.

Tinkering with the ship’s engine, Tech had heard the entire exchange between you and his vod. It took only two taps on his vambrace to isolate Echo’s comms and deliver the instruction. While some assistance would’ve been helpful, and another set of eyes for the watch was optimal, ensuring his brother’s happiness was back on track and your anxiety levels lowered would be better for the group.  

Letting you lead, Echo savoured the warmth of your hand in his, the way your fingers curled to grasp him tightly, and how you brought your other hand over to clutch at his forearm, suffocating all space between you. Fleetingly, he was grateful that you’d grabbed hold of his arm and not his scomp. “We shouldn’t go too far; we have no idea what could be out here.” He warned as you approached the edge of the clearing.

Shoulders shaking with your small laugh, you turned to stand in front of Echo, letting go of his forearm in the process. “You’re right, but I know I’m safe with you.” There had been some close calls over the last few missions, but Echo had been behind you, blaster in hand. He always had your back.

The softness of your words and the way you smiled at him took everything for Echo not to stride forward and steal his first kiss. Were you even aware of the effect you had on him? How his heart raced, and how he sometimes struggled to find the right words? “Always.” He vowed. His body had been through plenty. What was another blaster shot if it meant keeping you safe? 

The distant look was back in Echo’s eyes; the one you knew meant he was lost in thought. “Come on.” You gently prompted, moving to his right to loop your arm through his, fingers resting on his scomp.

“The other side would be comfier for you.” Echo swallowed, highly aware of how unforgiving his altered arm was. His first few weeks with the Batch had been spent relearning how to fight, sleep comfortably, eat, and wash himself. He’d sometimes wondered if it would be easier not to have the scomp.

Shrugging, you lightly pulled him forward, starting your journey into the tree line. “I like this side too.” You reassured him. “I like all of you.” You took a leap, throwing the comment out into the open, avoiding Echo’s gaze as you moved nimbly through the woods, avoiding the mighty trees that stretched up to the sky. At the same time, the crisp crunch of fallen leaves and the sweet music of local birds provided a beautiful soundtrack.

“You do?” Echo blinked in surprise, lips parting as your words settled in his mind. Your hum of affirmation as you released his scomp to jump across a small creek made him grin. “Well, it’s mutual.” He offered, reaching up to rub at the back of his head.

Giggling, you turned back around to face Echo, but your smile faltered when you caught sight of something above him, eyes widening as you gasped.

Watching your expression change, the galaxy slowed for a moment as Echo reflexively pulled his blaster from its holster, finger on the trigger as he aimed it upwards in the direction you were looking. His body tensed, every nerve on high alert, ready to take down whatever was up there and protect you. But while scanning the branches, leaves, and colourful flowers, he found no danger, no noise of a droid or person, or even an animal beyond the melodic bird song – was there something he couldn’t see?  

“Uj’ika…” Echo searched for an answer.

Returning your gaze to Echo, you hopped back across the creek, reaching out a hand to take his arm and slowly lower it, along with his blaster. “It’s okay, there’s no danger.” You explained quietly. “I’m sorry I spooked you.” You apologised, watching as he slid his blaster back into its holster, questioning brown eyes turning in your direction.

“It’s a Kibo.” You whispered, awe lacing your voice as the softest smile crossed your features. “The purple flowers. They’re so rare, Ecks. I never thought I’d see one in person.”

Flowers. You were in awe of rare flowers. And he’d nearly shot them. “Are they going to eat us?” Echo asked, fingers twitching near his blaster. He tried to ignore how his heart clenched again at the nickname, warmth daring to seep through the few bones he had left.

Laughter bubbled forward, and you raised a hand to cover your mouth. “No, they won’t eat us.” Your laughter tapered out as you watched Echo relax.

Reassured, Echo could now ask his next question. “Why are they rare?”

“The seeds of the Kibo can restore sight. They’re prized for it. Healers and medics have searched for and taken them, so few are left.” You explained, moving closer for a better look at the flowers.

“Can they restore anything else?” Echo questioned, admiring the delicate blooms.

“I’m not sure. All that’s been documented is how they can literally and metaphorically restore a person’s vision, allowing them to see what’s right in front of them.” You shrugged, head tilting towards the flowers, watching the petals shift in the light breeze. You couldn’t believe you’d finally seen them – and out in the wild, too!

Echo couldn’t help but watch you, the awe on your face exquisite. Swallowing thickly, tendrils of fear try to creep down his spine, but he pushes them aside and reaches out with his hand. Sliding it across your cheek, he tilted your head towards him. “I don’t need a flower to let me see how beautiful you are.” He whispered, silently praying the years of watching his twin compliment women would pay off.

Surprised, your lips parted, eyes widening at the compliment and physical contact. Warmth seeped through your body. Was he flirting?

Emboldened by the fact you hadn’t reacted badly, Echo slipped his scomp around your waist and pulled you close. He had the opportunity, and he wasn’t going to waste it.

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding with anticipation. A soft, nervous smile formed on your lips and Echo’s eyes dropped to them – it was all the warning you got before he leaned in and closed the distance.

His lips met yours in a soft, gentle kiss, like the brush of a feather against the skin. It was sweet and tentative, filled with all the unspoken feelings you’d both been withholding since you’d joined the squad. The world seemed to stand still as you savoured the sensation, lips lingering against each other’s.

You pulled back slightly, breaking the kiss, and your eyes opened to find Echo gazing at you with warmth and affection. Your bodies pressed together, heart racing.

You watched as a glint of something crossed his eyes, and with light steps, he guided you backwards, pressing you against the trunk of a nearby tree. His lips found your throat, and he peppered kisses across it, pulling a gasp from you.

His hand gripped your waist, keeping you close. You were still out in the open on an unfamiliar planet, and your safety was his priority. More kisses were left up your throat until he pressed his lips to yours once again. There was a little heat behind this one, making your insides turn to mush as Echo’s fingers grasped at you tightly.

He pulled back after a moment, resting his forehead on yours while you caught your breaths. The soft sound of the wind rustling the trees filtered back into your mind, along with the chirp of forest creatures.

“Maker, I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” Echo whispered, nervousness settling in.

You chuckled, a smile breaking out on your face. “Me too.” You admitted, sliding a hand to the nape of his neck, careful not to snag his cybernetic headpiece. “I think we should do it again.” You whispered.

As Echo’s eyes snapped open, you were no longer unsure what their glint meant. Those soft lips you’d just kissed curved into a wicked smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

[vizslasaber]

VIZSLASABER’S MASTERLIST ──── tumblr writing.

Last updated | May 16, 2024

☾ = angst | ☀︎ = fluff | ♡ = suggestive themes | ✦ = smut/18+ | ☁︎ = graphic descriptions

Taglist | Navigation | AO3

All graphics & fics are by me. Please do not steal or claim as your own.

──── CLONE / READER FICS.

──── CAPTAIN REX / READER.

☾ ☀︎ ☁︎ SERIES | friendly fire | WIP, 2/?

SUMMARY | Newly knighted and unaccustomed to combat, you’re suddenly given your first assignment on the shadowy world of Umbara. Waiting on the planet’s surface is the start of a mission filled with death and deception—and the companionship of someone whose smile you never thought you’d fall for.

☀︎✦ COMING SOON | like real people do

SUMMARY | Rex comes home, safe and sound. It’s all you ever asked for.

──── COMMANDER WOLFFE / READER.

☀︎ ☁︎ COMING SOON | an eye for an eye

SUMMARY | You wonder, on the bad days, if the war will cause too much hurt for you to heal. A new patient in the Halls of Healing proves you wrong.

──── ARC TROOPER ECHO / READER.

☾ ☀︎ ONESHOT | understanding

SUMMARY | In the middle of the night, Echo finds you, hurt and exhausted and in need of an apology.

──── ARC TROOPER FIVES / READER.

COMING SOON!

──── SERGEANT HUNTER / READER.

COMING SOON!

──── CAPTAIN HOWZER / READER.

COMING SOON!

──── JEDI / READER FICS.

──── OBI-WAN KENOBI / READER.

☀︎ COMING SOON | to pass the time

SUMMARY | You’re a pilot for Queen Amidala’s ship that’s bound for Coruscant, but your skills aren’t any good without a hyperdrive. Luckily, there’s someone to keep you company while you wait for Master Jinn to return.

──── CANON X OC FICS.

☾ ☀︎ ♡ COMING SOON | lighthouse

SUMMARY | Coruscant, with its seemingly infinite levels and endless types of diverse characters, is the galaxy’s best hiding place. Rex, a man with a face identical to that of millions, stands out in his own right—especially now that the war is over. So does Vega Knoxyn, the sarcastic and striking manager of 79s, but even in a time of peace, she only seems to want to hide. Unfortunately for Vega, who came to Coruscant to disappear, Rex’s unceasing curiosity about her only starts to grow once they meet.

[vodika-vibes]

It's My Choice

Summary: Echo is in recovery at a GAR medical facility on Coruscant after being assumed KIA. You want to see him, more than anything, and you hope he knows that he's your choice.

Pairing: ARC Trooper Echo x F!Reader

Word Count: 1190

Warnings: reader is described as having hair long enough to style, and as a supermodel.

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: So I had an idea, and I decided to run with it. It might not flow well, simply because I'm very sick and have been for the last two days, but I'm happy with it. (Also, pardon any typos/grammar errors, I typed this while not wearing my eyes.)

You lean back in the hard, uncomfortable chair of the GAR medical facility, your gaze drifting to the ceiling as you wait for an update on Echo. The chairs really are terrible, but then the clones were never meant to have worried family you suppose.

Jokes on them. Echo has you.

You allow the back of your head to thump against the wall behind you and you stretch your legs out in front of you and cross your ankles.

You've been here for almost 12 hours now.

Fives contacted you as soon as the Resolute landed on Coruscant and informed you that Echo was alive and was being treated for his injuries here. He mentioned that you didn't have to come, but clearly he's lost his damned mind.

As if you'd be anywhere else.

Of course, you probably should have taken the time to make sure that you fixed your hair and washed the extreme make-up off…and changed out of the six inch stilettos you had been forced into for work today.

But, whatever. Echo's alive. Nothing else matters.

Even if your agent has been blowing up your com for the last six hours. And even if General Skywalker has been side-eyeing you like he thinks you're trespassing. 

Your comma chimes again, and you absently lift it over your head to read the message. And then promptly deleted it. Your agent will just have to deal.

A door at the end of the hall opens, and you tilt your head to the side, before you sit up straight as Fives steps into the hall and walks over to you.

He takes in your carefully styled hair —artfully tousled, your stylist called it— the dark make-up, and the impossibly high stilettos and he huffs out a laugh, “You come here right from a shoot?”

“Echo’s more important than any photo shoot. Besides, I had already finished when you called.” You reply as you kick your heels off and scramble to your feet, “Can I see him?”

Fives smiles at you, “Yeah. Follow me.” He waits for you to scoop your heels, and your bag, off the ground before he starts walking, “I should warn you…he looks bad.” Fives says quietly as he stops next to the door.

You lift your chin and glare at him, “Contrary to what you, and apparently everyone else, believes. I'm not dating Echo because of his pretty face.”

“Okay, okay. Sheathe your claws, kitten. I just wanted to warn you.” Some of the offended tension drains from your shoulders, you didn’t mean to snap at him, but it wouldn’t be the first time someone made an assumption about you and your choice to have a relationship with Echo.

Fives opens the door and moves to the side to let you into the room, and your breath catches when you see him.

Like Fives said, he looks bad. Thin, too thin by far, and so pale. The prosthetics and cybernetics are new, but honestly, you’re only bothered by them because you’re sure that they must have hurt.

“Echo,” You step into the room, and set your heels and your bag in a chair, before you move closer to his side. There are tears in your eyes, but they’re happy tears, “Welcome home.”

Echo blinks at you, twice, and then he slowly slides up in the hospital bed, “Cyar’ika…when…how did you know I was here?”

“Fives commed me and told me. I’ve been sitting out there for hours.” You look around and then huff out a sigh, before dumping your stuff on the floor and moving the chair next to the bed. You lightly take his prosthetic in your hand, a scomp, rather than a hand.

You hope that it was his choice, rather than one made for him. 

He tenses, but he doesn’t pull away from you, “You didn’t have to.”

You smile at him, “Echo. You’re here, and you’re alive. Where else would I be?”

His gaze flickers across your face, and then over to the heels lying on the floor, “Well, judging by the height of those heels, a photoshoot.”

“Not half as important as you.” You reply dismissively.

He shifts and slowly sits up, properly, before reaching out and pressing his flesh hand against your cheek, “Cyar’ika…” Echo hesitates, and then flashes a wry, self-deprecating smile, “I don’t think I’m pretty enough for you.”

You bite your tongue to stem your immediate, and loud, disagreement. Instead you reach up and press your hand over his, rubbing your cheek against his hand. “Why would you say that?”

“Why-? Cyare. Look at me!”

“I am looking.”

“Then I shouldn’t have to explain-”

“Would you like to know what I see when I look at you, Echo?”

“Not really.” You tilt your head, and he sighs, “Tell me.”

“The man who, after meeting me, an actual supermodel, invited me to go to a bookstore with him.” Echo flushes, and it’s obvious due to how pale he is, “A man who overheard me mentioning to my agent that I was worried that I wasn’t going to be able to meet my favorite author and made sure that I arrived on time.” Your smile widens, “A man who learned who my favorite author was, simply so he could read the books too, so he’d have something to talk about with me.”

Echo averts his gaze, “We talked all night.” He murmurs.

“We did. And I got in so much trouble the next morning because I had dark circles under my eyes, and you got in trouble because you were late to formation…but we did the exact same thing three nights later.”

Echo laughs softly, “I thought Rex’s head was going to explode.” He admits.

You release his scomp hand and reach up to press your hand against his cheek, “I see the man I fell in love with. The man who looks at me and sees more than the dumb supermodel that everyone expects me to be.” You scan his face, almost anxiously, “And I’m hoping he still loves me.”

He looks at you, something soft in his gaze, “You still want me-?”

“Always. Forever. Until the stars go cold.”

“Your agent is not going to approve.” Echo warns as he lightly tugs you off the chair and onto the edge of the bed.

“I cannot emphasize enough how little I care about my agent’s opinion.” You admit quietly, “If I have to choose, I know who my choice will be.”

Echo exhales slowly, and slowly tugs you in until your forehead lightly bumps against his, “I love you.” He whispers, “I never stopped loving you. Even when I could barely remember anything, I still remembered your smile and the smell of your lotion and the feel of your skin under my fingers.”

“Charmer.” You whisper.

“Mean every word.” Echo whispers right back, and then he tugs you once more and catches your lips in a kiss that’s soft and loving enough that it nearly brings you to tears.

You have your Echo back. He might look a little different, but he’s here and it’s all you’ve ever wanted.