#Crosshair’s the most fun out of all of them to draw

[heyclickadee]

Crosshair sketch, because I wasn’t super happy with how I drew him in those expression challenges:

[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

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[snotbuggle]

Omega when she gets to jail and realizes that she now has to big sister four other children. One of which is nowhere near her age.

Going to try and condense some more serious thoughts about these episodes down below so I can avoid spoiling someone as much as possible and not post a dozen times. I don’t want to miss tag any one of those.

Jex/Jek?? I can’t completely remember his name, but the mirialan kid is for sure not going to trust her at all. Can’t say much for the pantoran kid since they haven’t shown much of them so far, but Eva is going to love her.

I think the mirialan kid is definitely going to be skeptical of Omega’s prior knowledge of the facility, Emerie, and why they’re there. Although he might overlook these things hanging on her promise that her brothers will get her, and in turn them, out of there. I can’t help but wonder what Omega and the others will think after about a week and there still not being a rescue. (These two are assuming that she will be placed with the other force sensitive children. Although she may be moved since her blood actually works for project Necromancer)

Crosshair is definitely going to hear it from Hunter. ESPECIALLY after he threw Hunter’s past failure to keep her out of Tantiss in his face. What I think will weigh on his conscience more though is the fact he thinks she’ll be alone this time. In a way she definitely will, but I have no doubt that he realizes he was probably the highlight of her day. He was probably the one thing that kept her hopeful even if he tried to talk down on her and get her to leave. Yes, she had hope that Hunter and Wrecker would find her, but she also needed someone there with her. A familiar face and not someone who just revealed they were your sister out of the blue. Her situation has changed, but Crosshair doesn’t know that. The Crosshair guilt is going to be so real in these last episodes.

Switching gears, CX agents are always a cool and interesting topic for me. While the identity of CX-2 isn’t usually as engaging, I have to say that I’ve drifted from the standpoint of “there’s no way that’s Tech” to “it’s a possibility” over the course of the last two episodes. I’ve seen some fun ideas for who it is otherwise. Personally, I think that they’re probably just another copy paste man with no autonomy anymore.

ANYHOW! I haven’t seen anyone talk about it much, but the scene with Hemlock reviewing the CX agent data and the capsule has me thinking a little harder on their creation/conditioning. The way Hemlock talks about the other operatives as well. “The others aren’t ready to join you” (paraphrasing) seems to show that after the mental conditioning through obviously brutal means, it takes a load of time to physically condition the agents. Seeing as CX-1 was most likely initiated around the same time as Crosshair (I choose to believe that they were near each other’s tables which is why they’re familiar), that took around five months to half a year. In that time span there had to be a lot of soldiers who Hemlock saw fit to be “reprogrammed” but we see very few operatives throughout. This means that if they make it out of mental conditioning, physical conditioning is most likely very dangerous and often times fatal. I’d like to draw attention to the capsules as a part of that physical conditioning. There were several capsules that Hemlock was observing, along with the foggy one that is most likely that new Huyang-lookin-ass operative. If these capsules are the final stage of physical conditioning, it adds meaning to CX-2’s first line, “Why have I been activated?” (Once again paraphrasing). Although the capsules could be for something else entirely.

Also a bit of a gripe, why in the world do you need a new secret-secret operative, Hemlock? You have the commandos, and then the first X troopers, now the CX’s, and what? You wanted a new one? I can’t tell if this man is an overachiever or just way too absorbed into the advanced trooper rabbit hole. Also for you Tech theorists, it’s kinda suspicious that he makes a new version of agents isn’t it? Almost like there’s something…deviant about him?

Completely side tracking here, I really like Phee’s awareness in the station. Yeah she didn’t hear the blaring alarm, but she was in a room where it’d be hard to hear anyways. However, when she got back she felt something was off about the ramp. We’ve seen how slick CX-2 is, so her noticing something is up was a nice touch imo. Also was very appreciative of her caution and readiness with her knife. I love when female characters get to be aware of their surroundings and ready to throw hands if things go south.

In conclusion, thank you for listening to my dump-rambling. I’ve been trying to keep my lips shut so I don’t miss tag anything and spoil it for someone (because I know that I’ll forget to tag everything right). I hope Wrecker is okay. And even if I’m not a Tech CX theorist, I have to admit that I’ve been seeing some fairly strong parallels.

[rainydaydream-gal18]

(The Bad Batch) Beach Vacation - Crosshair's Ending

The Bad Batch lands on the tropical resort planet of Spira.  A contact of theirs is helping you all out by letting you lay low in a private beach house on one of the islands.  You and Crosshair have been secretly dating for a little while, and you hope to make the most of the romantic setting.

Word Count: 1,476

Warnings: Kissing

“I think I’ll go back to the beach with Crosshair.”

All eyes turned to the sniper, gauging his reaction to your statement.  His expression betrayed nothing as he shrugged, tossing his toothpick into the nearby trash.  “Whatever.  Do what you want.”

No one said anything, but the air was heavy with unmistakable tension and even humor. Wrecker seemed to be the only one unwilling to let this slide, moseying over to Crosshair to give him a playful shove.

“Have fun you two!”

“Grow up,” Crosshair muttered, pulling away.  He paced over to the front door and paused to glance your way.  “You coming?”

“Uh, yeah.  I’ll see you guys later!” you called over your shoulder.

“Be careful,” Hunter warned.  “If you run into any trouble, comm us.”

As unlikely it was that you and your companion would encounter anything dangerous in such a place, you nodded sincerely.  “Will do.”  The door shut behind you, and you released a breath.  “Sheesh, I think they may be onto us…” You turned to see that Crosshair was already descending the stairs, hands stuffed in the pockets of his shorts.  You caught up to him with a chuckle.  “Hey.”

He stole a sideways glance.  “They’re watching us through the window.”

“Of course,” you chuckled.  “That’s typical.”

The sun began its descent from the sky, washing the expanse in dazzling shades of peach and gold in a few final minutes of brilliance before darkness settled.  Crosshair’s profile silhouetted stunningly against the colors, against the waves that lapped the shore, was another sight to see.

Something brushed your fingers, drawing your gaze down to see his warm hand clasp around them.  You gasped softly at the gesture, realizing with a glance over your shoulder that you were far enough down the beach that no one could see.  

You were finally alone.

You leaned into his touch so that your shoulders pressed together as you walked down the beach, sighing in contentment.  He entwined his fingers with yours, his brown eyes not breaking contact with yours.

“It’s beautiful here,” you murmured.

He didn’t voice a reply.  Instead, Crosshair closed the short distance between you.  His lips melded with yours warmly, and the two of you stopped in your tracks. Your hand immediately went up to cup the back of his neck, tugging him even closer, while his arm wrapped around your waist.

Waves crashed against the sand behind him, the rush of water on shells and pebbles being the only sounds filling your ears aside from his lips meeting yours.

On the ship, Crosshair was all barbs, silence except to snark, keen eyes that didn’t miss a thing, and toothpicks between his teeth.  This behavior always peaked when the Batch was under orders to cooperate with outsiders on missions during the Clone Wars. Even when solely in the company of his brothers, Crosshair found time to make the occasional crotchety statement, though it was not so much out of defiance than it was simply his usual brand of tough love.

But there, on the beach, his hand was gentle on your waist as it held you close.  His eyes regarded you with unwavering tenderness and what you knew to be devotion in their depths.

It’s plain to see when you’re in the heat of battle, surrounded by enemies, and suddenly they are shot down one-by-one but someone far away…  You can’t pinpoint the site, but you know he’s there, watching from a great distance and protecting you.

Or when you are in a new place, Crosshair forsakes distance to keep your relationship inconspicuous to the rest of the squad in favor of keeping you safe- whether it be at your side, in front of you to shield you from a potential threat, or watching out for you from behind, his hawk eyes scanning your surroundings.  Crosshair’s fierce loyalty shone through every time.

After this realization, his expression didn’t appear so steely to you anymore.  Crosshair never quite found the words to explain.  Instead, his cold gaze revealed more to you each day.  He protected his family.  He protected you. 

You broke the kiss and let your forehead rest against his.  He lingered, refusing to remove himself from that place of basking in the bliss of the moment, eyes half-lidded.

“What if we just stayed at a place like this?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“We are on the Empire’s most wanted list,” he reminded.  “Many parts of Spira are crawling with Imperials.”

“Well, yes.  I know.”  You pulled away to glance down then at where you held his hand between both of yours, fiddling with his slender fingers idly.  “Maybe not here, but…A place like it.  There has to be somewhere far enough for us to live in peace.”

“Perhaps,” he conceded in a slow rasp.  His tone lilted, as if there was more to say on the matter- most likely another gentle rebuttal to your fanciful suggestion, but he decided on keeping it to himself.

The two of you continued on your way along the beach, hand-in-hand.  A dark, starry blanket replaced the glowing hues while the heat of the day cooled to a more pleasant evening temperature.

It felt like bathwater washing over your feet as you waded in the shallows.  It pushed and pulled serenely over the sand before fading into darkness beyond your view with not a single boat light in sight.  Crosshair gazed out at the tranquil scene in silence, his fingers still entirely interlocked with yours.

“So, what do you want to do tomorrow?” you asked.

“What do you want to do?” he returned.

“I’d like to do what it is you want to.”

Crosshair fell silent, and you waited patiently as the wheels turned in his head.  

For the longest time, it was just orders.  Mission objectives.  A chain of command.  It left little room for choices beyond what decisions were made on the battlefield.

Even when it came to the small decisions in your relationship- where you went or what you did during downtime- his choice still revolved around what he thought would make you happiest, like a default.  In fact, you were already prepared for his first answer.

“We can go swimming.”

The earlier image of him planted in a beach chair far up on the shore under the umbrella had you biting back a smile  He was a lothcat when it came to his aversion to water.  Swimming was very far down on his list, and you were determined to see him indulge a little on this trip.

“We did that today,” you pointed out.  “We should space out swim times or we risk sunburn, like Tech said...”

Crosshair eyed you, and it was obvious he instantly picked up on the bologna you were trying to sell.  But he let it slide, most likely curious as to why you made such an effort to steer away from it, and wondering what you were getting at.

“Is there anything that you want to do tomorrow? Or see?”

He studied your earnest gaze for a moment before his eyes traveled down to your joined hands.  “I’d rather do this again.”

Your face scrunched up analytically, internally debating your next move.  As much as you didn’t want to sound accusatory, there was still a question as to whether he was yet again defaulting to something he thought you’d want or not.

“Is that… what you want?”

Crosshair sighed, leaning in.

“We are constantly surrounded on the Marauder,” he reasoned in a low voice.  “What I want most is more time with you.  Alone.” And he drove his point home with a kiss to your forehead before pulling back to see your expression.

Your heart fluttered.  “Oh. Okay then, we’ll put a walk on the beach on our to-do list for tomorrow.”

“Now that we’ve covered that, we should get back,” he said.  You both turned around and walked in the direction from whence you came, pausing twice to observe a school of dolphins that surfaced in the water.  

By the time you walked through the front door, your eyelids were beginning to droop as sleep sought to claim you.  The others were fast asleep with their doors shut, and Echo crashed on the couch.  Crosshair gave you one last kiss for the night, on the inside of your wrist, before departing to the room he shared with Wrecker for the trip.

Omega was curled up in the master bed cuddled up to Lula.  You climbed in on the other side, sliding out of your shoes and letting out a sigh at how soft the blankets were.  It was impossible not to smile at how peaceful and utterly content she appeared in her sleep.

You began to drift off, listening to the sound of crickets chirping outside the window and the ocean breeze rustling leaves.

[blackdungeon357]

bad batch X artist Reader

Authors note: this is just for fun I randomly thought of this I tried I hope you like it

You have been with the bad batch for a while. You usually just draw when the boys are on missions or when things are calm in hyperspace although it is usual for you to draw you never really show them to the boys or Omega and most of the time they never question it. Until one day you were out at the store and left your sketchbook open on accident Omega found it on your bed and it was open to a page you have drawn of your little family. Omega grabbed it to show to the others at first they were a little weary because your privacy but when they looked at it their face is dropped as they flipped through the pages there were pictures of all of them just doing regular things

Hunter:

As Hunter looked through the sketchbook at all the pictures of his brothers his eyes are gleaming with happiness as this shows how much you see them as a family when he gets to a picture of him it says a few things that you like about him and its nothing but sweet as he looks at the well drawn picture of him holding his knife he is very happy and proud of how it looks as he keeps looking he finds a picture of him and Omega with the words #galaxies best father he smiles he never knew that you would say that about him and it brings joy to his day when you came back he smiles and handed you back your sketchbook "mesh’la you are a beautiful artist keep going I would love to see more" Hunter is extremely supportive of your skills and would love to see more as it helps him calm down seeing the pictures you drew and the time and dedication you made for each of them he also loves the notes you write in them.

Wrecker:

This big boy absolutely love your art especially the ones about him he finds this as a way you show you love and care for him and that makes him so happy he especially lost a little notes that you wrote about him he can't help but feel joyful inside. wrecker makes it known that he saw it he walks up to you and embraces you in a bear hug like Hunter he is very appreciative of the time you spent to draw each picture of him he especially puts the picture of him holding his stuffed animal. "Y/N you are amazing at drawing! We should totally draw together one day" Wrecker is definitely the type to do art as well and he happily gives advice to you as you give advice to him Wrecker does love you to death and would do anything to see your art.

Echo:

This precious baby actually feels more secure about himself as he looks at the pictures you've drawn of him and everything you wrote that you like about him it makes me feel jittery inside he also blushes a bit overall he's very happy that you see him in a good way as he is very insecure about how he looks but his favorite is the old picture you drew of him and Fives. It reminds him of the good times before everything happened it gives him a sense of nostalgic and he loves it Echo is very thrilled that you took the time to draw him and he loves the details of the pictures. When you get back Echo looks at you with a very happy smile and a better feeling about himself because your opinion is the only thing that matters to him now "ca’tra you are so talented when I saw how you drew me and the sweet notes about me it made me feel so good about myself you are truly amazing" Echo now sees himself in a better light and its all thanks to you.

Tech:

Tech was quite busy looking at his data pad until Omega decided to show him the sketch by shoving it in his face to get attention after his attention was grabbed he takes a look at it and at first he doesn't really care until he realize it's yours he's impressed by your proportions and ability to capture their figures very well he decides to look through it he finds many pictures of crosshair, wrecker ,Hunter, and Echo then he comes across one of him looking at his dad in the middle of the night and he loves how it looks the shading is spot on the proportion is correct he is very impressed we all know Tech is very intelligent and probably good at human anatomy and like things to be perfect when you come home he hands you back the sketchbook "you're proportions are pretty good you know a lot about human anatomy I'm impressed" he is very happy and may start to questions about if you know of each piece of the body and will correct you if you get it wrong.

Crosshair:

He doesn't understand art at all like he's impressed that you can draw that well but he doesn't ever draw so he doesn't understand but he smirks at the notes about him he notes to tease you about it when you get back but other than that crosshair is ok with your drawings PS: he loves the drawings of him the most. Honestly Crosshair is very prideful what did you expect? So when you return home he is quick to tease you "so I'm charming eh?" He says this with a smirk on his face as he looks at you with that smirk and as you try to grab your sketchbook he keeps it out of your reach and laughs at you attempts to grab it Hunter has to tell hem to return the sketchbook but for the next week hes teasing you about it always steeling your sketchbook just to see the new things you wrote about him and more badass pictures of himself it annoys you but you can't do much but you will play his little game and it will continue until you can hide your sketchbook.

[fanfoolishness]

Stargazing

Crosshair and his brothers sneak out to stargaze. For @summer-of-bad-batch prompts "stargazing" and "You really think you're going without me? Not going to happen." 2500 words with closer detail on the art at the end <3

---

Crosshair slipped his boots on silently, taking care to avoid making even the slightest noise. Here in the near-total darkness of lights out, he should be safe from his brothers’ prying eyes. While he didn’t have the flawless night vision of some species, the Kaminoans had assured him his vision was far superior to any human’s -- including his fellow defective clones.

He kept a close watch on his brothers’ sleeping forms as he slowly got to his feet. Hunter was the most likely to realize what he was up to, but he seemed fast asleep, lying perfectly still with his face turned to the wall. Crosshair turned around to hide his pillow under his blanket as a decoy, but he hadn’t kept his eyes off the others for more than ten seconds before there was a soft, slightly annoyed voice in his ear.

“You really think you’re going without me?” Hunter whispered. “Not going to happen.”

Crosshair’s hand closed into a fist at his side. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he hissed. “I’m just going to the refresher.” He pointed to the small, closet-sized refresher in their barracks.

Hunter clicked on his glowrod, illuminating Crosshair and his bunk. “With your boots on?” Hunter leaned around him, poking the pillow under the covers. “And a decoy? Come on.”

Crosshair sighed, rubbing his face with his hand. He glared at his brother, lowering his gaze slightly. They were all still far shorter than the adult regs, even Wrecker, who was clearly going to be enormous, but Crosshair had recently pulled a few centimeters ahead of Hunter. He used it to his advantage, narrowing his eyes and drawing himself up to his full height. “Fine. I’m going out.”

“You’ll get caught,” said Hunter. “You’re not stealthy enough. Obviously.” He gave Crosshair a gloating grin. “You’ll need me.”

“Oh really,” said Crosshair. “If I’ll get caught on my own, how are the two of us supposed to help that?” 

“Because I can tell you when the patrols are coming,” said Hunter smugly. “I’ll sense them long before you can see them. C’mon.”

“You don’t even know where we’re going,” Crosshair said, though he had to admit Hunter had a point. He’d gotten the jump on him just now, and he did always seem to know when someone was just around the corner. Tech would say it was something to do with vibrations and electromagnetism, but Hunter would just shrug and say it was his gut.

“Yes we do,” said Tech from across the room, and Crosshair groaned. 

“We do?” Hunter asked.

“You’re up, too?” Crosshair sighed.

“Well, the glowrod and your voices were getting hard to ignore,” Tech said, sitting up in his bunk and leaning down to reach for his boots. “The weather forecast was for a clear night tonight, the first one in months. You’re going stargazing.”

Crosshair chewed at his fingernail, embarrassed. “How’d you know?”

“I remembered how your curiosity was piqued during one of our astronomy lessons,” Tech said, pulling his boots on and adjusting his goggles. The little red recording light at the edge of his goggles clicked on. “You asked how much you would be able to see compared to a reg, and our instructor didn’t know how to account for your enhanced vision. You wanted to look for yourself, but with Kamino’s typical cloud cover, you’ve never had an opportunity until now.”

Crosshair had been curious. He’d tried peering out the hall windows several times during regular training hours, but the fluorescent lights of the hallways drowned out much of the night skies, which were always cloudy. He’d long decided he would have to sneak out to a platform on a clear night if he ever wanted to know. 

Leave it to Tech to have him figured out, as usual.

“We’re goin’ stargazing?” Wrecker asked with a yawn. “Let’s do it! Sneaking out’ll be fun!” He held up Lula. “As long as Lula can come with.”

Crosshair pulled at his fingernail so hard he tasted blood. He held his finger in his mouth for a moment before he buried his face in his hands. “It’s stupid. We should just stay here. It’s not worth the extra cleaning duty.”

“There won’t be extra cleaning duty if we don’t get caught,” Hunter said patiently. “I know a way to the accessory landing pad. Come on, lads. Move out.” He turned off his glowrod and pocketed it.

Wrecker finished getting his boots on and leapt to his feet, Lula in his arms. “Yes sir!” he laughed.

“Keep it down, Wrecker!” Tech said. They fell in line behind Hunter, who paused for a moment at the door, listening hard with his hand on the wall. 

“All right, move out,” he whispered. “Hand signals from here on in.”

Crosshair and the others nodded. Wrecker muttered something under his breath. He hated hand signals.

The door slid open and they slipped out into the hall, dimly lit with running lights along the floor and ceiling for nighttime. All was strange and silent, a far cry from the normal hubbub during the day. There were no lanky, wispy Kaminoans ambling through the halls, no older cadets marching in line and coldly ignoring them, no younger cadets making faces at them when their handlers weren’t looking. It was a different world, still and empty, and Crosshair shivered. He didn’t like it.

They followed Hunter carefully. At one point he gestured to hold back as a night patrol made their rounds; they pressed themselves against an alcove opening into a medical ward, holding their breath until the patrol passed. Hunter gestured again with the all-clear after a moment, and they slipped back into the hallway single file, their footsteps as soft as they could make them.

Crosshair was surprised when Hunter led them down a different path than he had anticipated. He had been thinking of going out through one of the main hangars, suspecting no one would notice a single cadet the size of a natborn ten-year-old among all the ships and cargo. But Hunter had a different idea. His hand signals flashed, explaining the hangar was too conspicuous. He led them down a maintenance hall instead, then gestured for Wrecker to join him at the front of the line while Tech and Crosshair kept watch.

Hunter had them stop in front of a barred vent, and Crosshair understood. Wrecker grinned, shoved Lula into Crosshair’s arms, and then shook out his hands. 

Wrecker crouched down in front of the vent cover, prised his fingers into its edges, and pulled. For a moment his brow furrowed with concentration and effort, but the cover squeaked, bent, and then lifted up. Wrecker gave one more wrenching pull and nearly lost his balance, but Hunter caught him before he hit the ground. 

Crosshair allowed himself a surprised smile. This just might work. He gave Lula a squeeze absently, watching Hunter and Wrecker. Wrecker leaned the vent cover against the wall, then frowned at Hunter as if to say, You want me to fit in there?

Hunter nodded, his hands flashing. You can do it.

Wrecker hung his head, then reached out and took Lula back from Crosshair. Hunter crept into the vent first, easily fitting as the smallest. For Wrecker, it was a tight squeeze, but not impossible. Tech followed next, and Crosshair brought up the rear, pulling the vent cover back into place behind him. It was cramped, but it was workable.

They crawled through the vent for what seemed like ages until they reached another cover. This one was easy for Hunter to kick out on his own, and he led them through the opening one by one until they stood up in a small dim hall ending in a single closed door. 

Crosshair pulled at his tunic, which had gotten all dusty and bunched up. He had to wear a tunic far wider than he needed to account for his recent vertical growth spurt, and it hung awkwardly on his thin frame. He stretched it back across his shoulders. There. Better.

This was the farthest away they’d ever been from the main halls and training areas. Crosshair had a funny feeling, like they were doing something much more transgressive than just sneaking out for a few hours. It made the back of his neck prickle. He turned around, looking cautiously, but there was nobody there except his brothers.

Hunter peered at the door, which didn’t seem to want to open. Tech stepped forward and nudged him out of the way, pulling up his datapad. He hunched over it for a few minutes, then inputted a code into the door, which slid open. A breath of cool air and the sound of waves greeted them. “Here we are,” Tech said softly. With the waves splashing beyond them and the evening wind to mask their sounds, Crosshair realized they could speak again.  

He and the others followed Tech out onto the platform, and he shivered, realizing it was their first step into a wider world.

For a moment they walked in silence, beneath the lights of the domed cities rising up behind them, above the waves rising and breaking beneath them. They trotted out along the platform to the point where it narrowed to a bridge that could be easily defended in the event of an attack, and they kept going until they reached the point where the bridge opened up again into a very small platform, sized for a single fighter.

Out here the breeze buffeted them, though it was Kamino’s summer and the air was cool instead of cold. Crosshair licked his lips and tasted salt spray. He sank down to a sitting position and leaned forward, blinking rapidly, trying to let his eyes adjust from the indoor lighting of the hall to the darkness of open space. 

The others sat down beside him. Tech sat cross-legged, with his datapad in his lap, reviewing Kaminoan constellations with his datapad set on the lowest brightness. Hunter lay down and crossed his arms beneath his head, while Wrecker flopped onto his back beside him with Lula resting on his chest.

Wrecker whistled. Tech let out a curious little hmmmm. Hunter was quiet, deep in thought.

Crosshair hadn’t looked at the sky yet. He stared into the water, waiting for his eyes to fully adjust, knowing there was more that he could see. He waited until he could start to see the patterns of the waves crossing each other in ephemeral diamonds of water, until he could see fish swimming five, ten, twenty meters down, until he could see the vast deep shadows of the platform above curving over the bulk of creatures far, far below. Then he took a deep breath, leaning back, and gazed up at the stars.

He saw everything.

The stars themselves were stunning. White glittery pinpoints twinkled far above them, mixed with golden stellate shimmers, tiny sparks of reddish or bluish lights from far distant worlds. But the stars weren’t the only thing to see, to his surprise. Clouds of rich blue-purple violets, shimmering at the edges with a faint color that forced him to squint and made his head hurt slightly, roiled and flowed in the skies behind the bright points of the stars. Delicate filaments of hazy bluish fog swirled and spiraled amid the deepest black. His mouth fell open.

“Well, Cross?” Wrecker asked.

“What do you think?” said Hunter.

“Is it what you anticipated?”

Crosshair shook his head. “It’s… it’s… wizard.”

Wrecker laughed. “Never heard you say that before! What all do you see?” he asked curiously. 

Crosshair glanced back at his brother, confused for a moment. “You see the nebula up there, right? And all the… twirly parts? It’s… fascinating.”

Wrecker shrugged. “It’s nice -- there sure are a lot of stars, way more than I thought! But I dunno about any nebula. What’s it look like?”

Crosshair frowned. He knew he’d see more than they would, but this much more? He nibbled at his thumbnail, tearing one edge into little shreds. “I don’t know, it’s -- like smoke, but in the stars?”

“Tech?” said Hunter.

“A nebula is a giant cloud of dust and gas in space, and it may comprise many colors. There is a large nebula adjacent to the Rishi Maze galaxy that abuts Kamino, but it is not usually detectable to the naked eye,” Tech said, checking his datapad. “I believe only you can see it, Crosshair.”

“Oh,” he said, trying to hide his disappointment. He’d let them all come out here for nothing? He stared up at the sky, the brilliant stars blurring as he blinked back sudden tears. “Sorry,” he said haltingly. “It’s… it’s special.”

“We believe you. It is still a beautiful night, even if we cannot see all of it ourselves,” said Tech. “I for one have enjoyed exploring new parts of the city with you. It’s useful to know there’s an escape route here.”

“Yeah, sneakin’ out’s always fun. And the fresh air’s way better than that smell in the barracks.”

“Just because we can’t see exactly what you see doesn’t mean we didn’t want to come,” Hunter said. “I like this a lot more than just staying in our bunks all night. Besides -- what’s that?”

A blazing blue-white star streaked across the sky, weaving a long tail of light across the starry landscape. It danced along at incredible speed, growing brighter and brighter.

“Look at it go!” whooped Wrecker.

“It’s a shooting star,” said Tech. “A small meteor falling into Kamino’s atmosphere and burning up. Some sentients believe they are lucky, and wish upon them. I don’t really understand why.”

“Make a wish, Cross!”

Crosshair stared up as the shooting star began to fade, its streaking path glimmering in and out of the dark. He swallowed. A wish?

A dozen wishes flashed through his mind. To be the best soldier in the Grand Army of the Republic. To be the commander of his own squad someday. To win the war, and protect the galaxy. For none of his brothers to ever get hurt.

He closed his eyes.

I wish they could see what I see.

He opened his eyes, and the shooting star was gone. He let out a sigh.

“What’d you wish?”

“He is not supposed to tell, according to the lore,” said Tech. “Otherwise that invalidates the wish.”

“That’s a silly rule.”

“I didn’t make it.”

“But that shouldn’t matter!”

”Again, I did not write the lore —”

“Oh quit arguing, you two,” said Hunter. “Let’s just enjoy it. It’s a nice night out here. Right, Crosshair?”

Crosshair gazed up at the wheeling stars, slowly exhaling as the night sky glittered and shone and radiated far above him. His brothers looked up at the stars with him, and even if they didn’t see things exactly the same… they were here, and he wouldn’t have made it through the halls without them.

Crosshair smiled. His wish probably wasn’t going to come true, but somehow, he didn’t mind.

“Yeah, it’s all right.”

[snippy-tano]

*waves* hello there!! I have this Image in my head of Tech liking to ramble about bugs (mostly because the fandom has decided to draw him fawning over them and it’s freaking adorable!) so the idea of Tech finding the reader and telling them about random bugs he found because they’re the only one who listens, and maybe starting to worry he’s imposing on the reader’s space, but hint hint reader thinks it’s the cutest thing ever and falls a little more in love every time he comes up to her with sparkling eyes and a new bug fact 💜

(Take your time please! THANK YOU FOR WRITING seriously you are sustaining all of us going through Tech withdrawal and ignoring canon together😂)

here it is friends!

this was so much fun writing. i think Tech grabbed me by the shoulders and wouldn't let go until i finished this because i was actually working on another one-shot when i suddenly skipped to this one. so yay! enjoy!

[my google targeted ads are going to be so messed up from looking up all these bug facts but it was worth it!]

masterlist is here!

taglist is here!

tagging: @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life; @marvel-starwars-nerd; @mackstrut; @dissapointingpancake; @quizznag; @ahsokatano-thetogruta; @welcometothepedroverse; @padawancat97; @fractiouskat; @mandaloriandin; @bantha-shit; @badbatch-simp24; @katelynnwrites; @s1st3r; @leotatombs; @torchbearerkyle; @rain-on-kamino; @the-navistar-carol; @bombshe77; @arctrooper69; @social-mockingbird; @littlebluebatbrat; @get-wr3ckered; @flowered-bicycles; @techissuperior; @dangraccoon; @lilyevans1

------------------------------------------------

Little Known Facts

The first time it happened, you weren’t sure why Tech had chosen you. 

You thought maybe it was because he had exhausted all other options and you were the newest member of the team. You also thought it was likely because you were the only one left who had yet to turn him away.

You were deep in the jungles of Kashyyyk when Tech materialized beside you, startling you slightly. 

“My apologies.” He said and you shook your head after you caught yourself on a nearby tree and continued walking beside him. 

“It’s alright Tech. Is everything okay?”

“It is. What do you know about termites?” 

You blinked.

“Leave her alone Tech.” Came Hunter’s exasperated voice from several paces in front of you. 

“Uh. Not much, just that they eat wood among other things.” You replied and you could hear Crosshair scoff in front of you. 

“Your funeral.” He had whispered and you shot him a glare. 

“The queen of a certain termite species can lay 40,000 eggs per day.” Tech stated. “They also use vibrations to communicate with one another.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes.” Tech said, somehow continuing to tap at his datapad without missing a step. “They are also a good form of sustenance as they are rich in iron, calcium, protein, and fatty and amino acids.”

Your nose crinkled. “I think I’d rather not eat termites.”

“As would I, but they would work in a severe survival situation.” Tech concurred and you nodded.

“Thanks Tech. Now I know what I can eat if I have no other options.” “You are most welcome.” “Alright you two. We’re coming up on the camp so it’s time to focus.” Hunter called and Tech gave you a quick nod before jogging to catch up with the Sergeant. 

After that encounter, Tech seemed to take your willingness to converse with you about bugs as an excuse to bring up every single bug fact he knew. The others of the batch would shoot you sympathetic looks (Hunter), make teasing remarks in passing (Crosshair), and slap you on the back forcefully as a way of offering comfort once Tech was out of view (Wrecker). They all assumed that you were just being kind and allowing Tech to talk your ear off about bugs because you felt bad. 

But the thing was, you really didn’t mind. 

You had been around the batch long enough to know that Tech rarely got the opportunity to share “useless” facts. He was usually shut down due to it not being a good time. Which was understandable, he didn’t quite have a filter even if you were in a high pressure situation. 

But every time he would approach you with a new fact rolling off his tongue or a small insect perched on the back of his hand, his eyes would sparkle. 

It had a smile spreading across your face before he even started speaking and a warmth filling your bones. 

*~*~*

“Approximately 2,000 silkworm cocoons are needed to produce one pound of silk.”

“Really? That many?”

“Indeed.”

*~*~*

“About one-third of all insect species are carnivorous, and most hunt for their food rather than eating decaying meat or dung.”

“Good to know. I will make sure to avoid bugs if I am injured.”

*~*~*

“The term ‘honeymoon’ comes from the planet of Alderaan, where it is tradition that a newly married couple is provided with enough honey wine to last for the first month of their married life.”

“That’s actually really sweet. How much honey wine would that be?”

“That would depend on the couple, but an average amount would likely be a crate.”

“Wow. I will have to remember that.”

*~*~*

“Ants can lift and carry more than fifty times their own weight.”

“That’s impressive. Has anyone ever tried to replicate that with technology? I would imagine that it would be useful.”

“I had not considered that. Perhaps I will try.”

“I can’t wait to see it, Tech.”

*~*~*

With each encounter you had with Tech, the swirling in your stomach grew more and more insistent. It was hard not to watch him with a smile as he rattled off fact after fact. And he never told you the same one twice. 

It was an uninterrupted time you were granted with Tech as most of the batch cleared out whenever he started rambling about bugs. You grew to crave these moments. 

And it wasn’t until Crosshair had said something that you figured out why. 

“You know, if you like him, you could just say something. Save yourself the trouble of listening to bug facts all day.” He had teased, startling you as you sorted through the newest crate of supplies you’d picked up off of Kamino. 

“I do not-” You started to protest, but then paused. 

You thought back to every time he approached you with that sparkle in his eyes. How your heart had clenched and you involuntarily began smiling every single time. You started to hope he would come by with a new fact, just for a chance to listen to him talk about something he so clearly loved. You purposefully sought out bugs now, pointing them out in the hopes he would have a fact to share. And every time he did, you felt like you were flying.

Oh kriff you loved him.

“There you go, doll.” Crosshair drawled and you took a step towards him, punching his arm. 

“Not your doll.” You hissed, turning back to the crate to hide your reddening face.

“Maybe not. But you shouldn’t wait too long to tell him.” He said and you stopped stacking ration bars. He took a step closer, fingers playing with the toothpick in his mouth. “A word of advice, Tech is starting to think he’s imposing on you and your space with his facts.”

“He would never bother me!” You cried and Crosshair smirked. 

“Just thought I’d share. Do with this information what you will.” He turned to leave and you let out a laugh. 

“Aww Cross! You do care about Tech’s emotional well-being.” It was your turn to tease and you watched as his jaw clenched. But he didn’t deny it before he stepped out of the room, letting the door slide shut behind him. 

When he left, you sunk down in a nearby chair, mind racing. 

Tech thought he was bothering you? That couldn’t be further from the truth and you had to find a way to tell him. And fast. 

*~*~*

You had your opportunity a few rotations later when you made a brief stop on Naboo. 

You had only really stopped to refuel before heading back out, but you were going to enjoy the sunshine and warm temperatures. While Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair headed into the city you had parked near, you and Tech had opted to stay behind, albeit for different reasons.

Tech wanted to run a few diagnostic tests on the Marauder and you cited organizing some crates, but really you wanted a chance to talk to Tech alone. And judging by the knowing look Crosshair had shot your direction, your flimsy excuse didn’t work on everyone. But no one made any comments and you were left alone with Tech for what was likely going to be a few hours. 

He immediately set to work doing what he had stayed behind to complete and you did take some time to organize a crate or two, but you didn’t do it for long. In fact, you took the time to open up every hatch in the ship with the hopes of helping it air out a bit. 

While you waited for that, you found yourself sitting in the grass outside of the ship, head tilted towards the sunlight. You could hear the breeze moving the nearby trees and the tall grass of the fields surrounding the ship. In the wind, you could smell the blossoms of the blooming flowers. Your eyes were closed as you breathed in fresh air for the first time in a very long time. 

You heard footsteps approaching you from behind and you waited as Tech approached. 

“Is everything alright?”

You hummed in response. “Why do you ask?”

“I thought you were organizing crates and then I turned and you were not there.” He replied and you opened your eyes and turned to look up at him, squinting in the light. Tech shifted and the sun was no longer burning your eyes.

“Sorry, I finished and decided I should enjoy the weather and fresh air while I could.” You said. “You’re welcome to join me.”

“I should finish my calibrations-”

“-come on Tech.” You patted the grass next to you. “Join me. Your calibrations can wait a few minutes.”

Tech hesitated for a second before speaking. “Very well then.”

You smiled as he sat down cross-legged next to you. He continued to tap lightly at his datapad, but you didn’t mind it. You leaned back against your arms and again tilted your face towards the sky, eyes closing. 

The two of you sat in silence, but it was far from awkward. You were enjoying the weather and you were enjoying it even more knowing Tech was here with you. 

“Did you know-” Tech began only to stop talking. 

You opened your eyes and turned to him. “Why’d you stop?”

He stopped tapping at his datapad and you watched as he shifted uncomfortably. “I did not want to bore you with facts you do not care to know. I will leave you to enjoy the weather and return to my calibrations.”

Tech started to move, but stopped when you hand closed over his. You watched as his eyes darted down to your joined hands and then back up at your face.

“I wouldn’t have asked you to stay if I didn’t enjoy your company.” You started. “And I love hearing about bug facts. It’s clearly something you enjoy, so that means I enjoy it too.” 

“But - that seems illogical.”

You laughed, giving his hand a squeeze. “Maybe it is, but it’s true. So please, never stop telling me bug facts.”

Tech regarded you with a strange look on his face. “Fascinating.”

You blinked at him. “What?”

He hummed. “Nothing. I will have to experiment with this further.”

You definitely wanted to know what he meant by that, but you didn’t want to push him. So you removed your hand from his and nudged his arm as you shifted to lay down in the cool grass. You moved around, trying to find a comfortable place to lay, but so far weren’t successful. When you noticed Tech watching you, you waved him on.

“Go ahead. Tell me what you were going to say earlier.” 

“Your head looks uncomfortable. I will go get you a blanket to lay on.” Tech said and began to move. 

“No! It’s okay! It’s not uncomfortable.” You said quickly and he paused, half standing. 

“You should still rest against something more comfortable.” He replied and your mind was racing. “Alright alright, I will. But please sit back down.” You said and he looked like he was going to protest, but you gave his arm a tug and he sat down, legs stretched out in front of him. 

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you shifted on the ground before leaning back, your head coming into contact with his thigh. You felt Tech tense and you looked up at him, hand blocking the sun. 

“This okay?”

He didn’t answer you right away, but after a moment, nodded once. “Yes. It is alright.”

You smiled up at him before dropping your hand to your stomach and closing your eyes. 

“Alright Tech. What facts have you got for me today?”

“Houseflies find sugar with their feet, which are 10 million times more sensitive than human tongues.”

You huffed. “Knowing that makes me wonder why they love our ration bars so much. They’re pretty bland to us, but maybe we’re missing something.”

“It is possible.” Tech noted. “Did you know that true flies have only one pair of wings, and sometimes, none at all. A hind pair of ‘wings’ is reduced to balancing organs called halteres.”

“I did not know that. But I do have a question.” 

“What is your question?”

“Do you know why flies rub their feet together? I see them do it all the time and have always wondered.” You asked and surprisingly, Tech fell silent. 

You allowed a moment or two to pass, thinking maybe he was waiting for you to say more. But he still didn’t speak. You held up a hand, squinting one eye open to see Tech staring down at you with a puzzled look on his face.

“You okay? Did I ask a hard question?” 

He continued to stare at you like he was studying you. It was equally slightly unnerving and exciting. “Curious.”

Your heart thudded loudly in your chest as Tech continued to stare at you. Even though it was comfortable outside, you could feel your cheeks starting to warm. “Uh, Tech?”

“Right, apologies. Flies rub their limbs together to clean them. It may seem illogical given their appetite for dirt, but this cleaning behavior is actually one of their primary activities as they rid themselves of physical and chemical residues and anything that can affect the sensors on their feet.” Tech said and you gave him another look before letting your hand fall and your eyes close again. 

Tech began to rattle off more facts and you did your best to come up with resulting questions. It was peaceful, and there was a part of you that wanted this to never end.

Abruptly, Tech stopped speaking and you squinted up at him. “Everything okay?” 

“Over there. It’s a brown marmorated stink bug. They are rare in this region.” He said and you sat up as quietly as you could. You reached for your glass jar that held the remains of your water, dumping it out on the grass. Very slowly, you climbed to your feet. “What are you doing?”

“You said they’re rare right? Let’s catch this one!” You whispered as you began moving quietly towards where the bug was perched on a nearby tree. 

“We should not harm it.” 

“Of course not. We’ll catch it in this jar to get a closer look and then let it go.” 

Tech slowly stood as well, quietly moving behind you as you approached. Just before you reached the bug, it took off. Both of you shared a look before following. It was hard for you to spot, but Tech seemed to know exactly where it was at all times, so he kept you both on the right path. The trees grew slightly thicker and you made probably too much noise crashing through the woods. 

The bug stopped high on a nearby tree. You didn’t even hesitate before clamoring onto a large nearby rock. 

“Please be careful.” Tech whispered, hands raised like he was concerned you would fall.

“Don’t worry Tech. I’ve got this.” You said, reaching slowly for the small stinky bug. Your foot slipped and you wobbled for a second before righting yourself. You felt the ghost of Tech’s hand appear at your back before disappearing again and you fought the warmth creeping up your neck. 

“Almost, got it.” You said more to yourself as you approached the unsuspecting bug. 

Two things then happened simultaneously. 

One. The rock shifted beneath you ever so slightly, but it was enough to set you off balance. 

Two. Now off balance, your foot slipped on the same spot as before and you began to pitch helplessly backwards. 

The jar slipped out of your hand and hit the forest floor with a soft thud. You looked at the tree and caught a glance of the bug hopping away as you fell backwards. 

You let out a yell of surprise before colliding with something hard. You tried to turn to catch your fall, but weren’t completely successful. Which meant the moment you hit solid ground, the air was thrust out of your lungs in one fell swoop. 

You gasped for air, desperate to breathe again. You coughed once, trying to get your breathing back to normal. Your back was killing you and your shoulder was aching from impact. 

It wasn’t until you felt the ground beneath you start moving that your current situation hit you. 

Your eyes snapped open and you were surprised to see Tech sprawled beneath you. 

“Kriff, are you okay??” You gasped. “I’m so sorry Tech!”

“It is alright. Are you unharmed?” He asked, voice a little scratchy. 

“Uh yeah. Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“Yes. I am fine.” 

You let out a breath of relief before tensing. Your face burned as you realized just how compromising of a situation this was. And suddenly all you could think about was getting out of it as fast as you could. 

You made a move to get up but were stopped by Tech’s hands gripping your waist. You didn’t move any further, instead raising your eyes to meet Tech’s that were already watching you. 

He had the same look as before. One you could only describe as fascination. 

It had your stomach fluttering in response.

“Remarkable.” Was all he said and you found yourself unable to respond. 

You again tried to move, but Tech’s hands held firm. 

“I have been conducting small experiments and I believe I have almost arrived at my conclusion. All I need to do is complete one final test.” He said and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Okay?” 

“I would like you to kiss me.”

Your heart thudded in your chest as your face burned. “Wha - what? Why?”

“I told you before, I need to conduct one last test before I reach my conclusion.” He said, as if it was indisputable science fact. 

You blinked at him. “And to do that I have to kiss you?”

“You do not have to. Although I would prefer it.” 

You looked away from him briefly, trying to process his words. 

Was he serious?

He had to be. Tech never said anything he didn’t mean. 

But why you?

Why now?

“You’re serious?” Was what you finally settled on as you looked at him. 

He gave you a firm nod. “I am rarely unserious.” 

He’s got you there. 

“Alright, but stop me if you need to.” You stated, trying desperately to hype yourself up. 

“I will not need to, but thank you.”

Karking hells.

Before you could say anything else to delay it any longer or completely talk yourself out of it, you leaned down and kissed him. 

You didn’t want to overwhelm or push him so you kept it short and sweet, despite never wanting it to end once you started. He didn’t seem all that responsive, but you tried not to think too hard about that. 

You pulled back, eyes opening to gauge his reaction. 

He tilted his head slightly before opening his eyes and meeting yours. “Once more please.”

Maker, this man was going to be the death of you. 

But far be it from you to say no. 

This time when you leaned down and pressed your lips against his, he reacted by tightening his grip around you. You slumped further against him without realizing it and felt the rumble in his chest as he hummed. 

It was easy to get swept up in the feeling of kissing Tech and before you knew it, you were pulling away because you couldn’t breathe. Your forehead rested against his as you looked down at him, trying to gauge his reaction.

“Well? Did you reach your conclusion?” You asked breathlessly.

Tech nodded once. “I have. I have determined that my feelings towards you are more than platonic.”

You couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across your face at his words. 

“Good because lucky for you, I feel the same way.” You replied and he met your gaze. 

“Excellent.” He said before raising his hand from its spot on your back to grip the side of your face, pulling you back down towards him. You smiled against him, more than happy to oblige in his request. 

The sun had climbed higher in the sky when you finally forced the two of you apart. The rest of the batch would be returning soon and it was important both of you were back and presentable before that happened. 

The short walk back to the Marauder was full of lingering glances and shy smiles. When you entered the clearing the ship was parked in, to your horror, you saw the rest of the batch was already back. 

Hunter shot you a knowing smile before heading into the ship and calling out to Wrecker instead. Crosshair opened his mouth, likely to make a snide comment, but you cut him off.

“We chased after a bug and it won.” You blurted and Crosshair rolled his eyes.

“Might want to pull the leaves out of your hair if you want that story to be believable doll.” He said before ditching his toothpick and heading into the ship.

“Not your doll!” You called after him, running a hand through your hair and catching several leaves. 

You turned when you felt another hand in your hair and you watched as Tech also removed a small leaf. You gave him a smile which he returned. You reached out, giving his hand a squeeze before turning and heading into the ship. 

You heard Tech follow behind you as you thought back to your moment shared in the woods. 

Who knew hearing bug facts could have such a wonderful outcome? 

[kybercrystals94]

I can’t believe February is already over! I had so much fun with this prompt challenge, and I am thrilled to be a completionist!

Congrats to my writing buddy @just-here-with-my-thoughts for also completing all 29 prompts this month! And many thank yous for proofreading some of my fics all the way back in January!

And special thanks to @the-little-moment for your notes of encouragement and check ins! THANK YOU!!

But really, this entire fandom’s community is amazing, both here on Tumblr and over on Ao3! I’ve written for many fandoms over the years, but this is by far the most supportive community I’ve had the privilege of being a part of!

Thank you for all the likes, comments, reblogs, kudos, and bookmarks! Y’all, my little writer’s heart runneth over!

🥹❤️❣️💕

Febuwhump Master List

Ao3 Febuwhump Master List

Day 1 | Prompt 1: Helpless

But She Still Cries

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: G | Words: 350

Excerpt: “My heart hurts,” Omega whispers, voice shaky. Crosshair recognizes the affliction with excruciating clarity, the tight fist of loss and regret.

[Character Focus: Omega, Crosshair]

[Tags: hurt no comfort]

Day 2 | Prompt 2: Solitary Confinement

Roaring Silence

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: G | Words: 180

Excerpt: “I don’t like this test,” Omega says quietly, stopping short of the door, resisting the hand that presses against her back between her shoulder blades.

[Character Focus: Omega]

[Tags: human experimentation, childhood trauma]

Day 3 | Prompt 3: “Bite down on this.” & Day 12 | Prompt 12: Semi-Conscious

Grounded

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr: Part 1 - Part 2)

Rated: T | Words: 1736

Excerpt: Blinding pain greets Crosshair’s return to consciousness, and a sharp gasp ejects from his lungs. A hand clasps hard over his mouth…

[Character Focus: Crosshair, Hunter]

[Tags: broken limb, injury]

Day 4 | Prompt 4: Obedience

Up to Something

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: G | Words: 1069

Excerpt: “Hunter always sides with you,” Wrecker grumbles. / Tech rolls his eyes, but plays into the argument. “Not true, but he usually sides with reason, which is more commonly provided by myself.”

[Character Focus: Wrecker, Tech, Crosshair, Hunter]

[Tags: concussion, slight whump, humor]

Day 5 | Prompt 5: Rope Burns

Absolute Privilege

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: G | Words: 1091

Excerpt: Omega leans over the cliff, staring into the dark, gaping mouth of the container yawning up at her. She can do this. She has to do this.

[Character Focus: Omega, Tech]

[Tags: sibling relationships, soft Tech, injury]

Day 6 | Prompt 6: “You lied to me.”

Die for a Corpse

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: T | Words: 960

Excerpt: In his arms, the other clone choked for breath, a blaster hole through his chestplate. He didn’t have long. That much Tech gathered as he approached the pair.

[Character Focus: Tech, OC]

[Tags: descriptions of death, hurt no comfort]

Day 7 | Prompt 7: Suffering in Silence

Poisoned

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: G | Words: 328

Excerpt: When Wrecker was too loud in a small space; when Tech couldn’t seem to run out of words to say about an impossibly dull topic; when Hunter lectured them about picking fights with the regs. Crosshair longed for silence in those moments.

[Character Focus: Crosshair]

[Tags: emotional whump, regrets]

Day 8 | Prompt 8: “Why won’t it stop?”

They All Fall Down

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: G | Words: 1572

Excerpt: “Hunter,” Wrecker whines, drawing out the last syllable of Hunter’s name to a ridiculous length. “Crosshair won’t stop staring at me.”

[Character Focus: Cadet Batch]

[Tags: humor, sibling relationships, a dash of whump]

Day 9 | Prompt 9: Bees

Hide and Seek and Training

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: T | Words: 2496

Excerpt: Slowly, Omega looks back at where the branch she sits on meets the tree. Tucked into the crook, a muddy looking structure is swarming with the colorful insects. Bees, Omega’s memory supplies frantically.

[Character Focus: Omega, Tech, Hunter, Wrecker, Echo]

[Tags: bee stings, slight injuries, sibling relationships, whump and fluff, humor]

Day 10 | Prompt 10: Killing in Self Defense

Flame Snuffed Out

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: T | Words: 457

Excerpt: Wrecker had to grab Tech’s shoulder, give him a shove to get him moving again. Wrecker must’ve told Hunter that. He shouldn’t have hesitated…Death should not influence him. Not him.

[Character Focus: Tech, Hunter]

[Tags: descriptions of death, trauma]

Day 11 | Alternate Prompt 4: Human Weapon

Costly Mistakes

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: G | Words: 542

Excerpt: “How’d you get out here without the others following you?” Hunter asks. / “I didn’t,” Crosshair responds. “But I told them if they didn’t go back to the barracks, I’d make their lives a living hell.” / “And they believed you?” / “Wrecker did. Tech took a hint.”

[Character Focus: Hunter, Crosshair]

[Tags: Cadet Batch, sibling relationships]

Day 12 | Prompt 12: Semi-Conscious

*See Day 3*

Day 13 | Prompt 13: “You weren’t supposed to get hurt.”

Exploration

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: G | Words: 1781

Summary: An afternoon of exploring takes a slight turn.

[Character Focus: Hunter, Omega, Tech, Wrecker, Echo]

[Tags: minor injury, a touch of whump, fluff, humor]

Day 14 | Prompt 14: “I love you.”

I Love You

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: G | Words: 781

Excerpt: She replayed the words over and over again in her mind, rolling the syllables silently over her tongue. Of course, she knew her brothers loved her, and she loved them. They just never said it. In fact, Omega didn’t think she had ever heard that combination of words in that order out loud in her entire life.

[Character Focus: Omega, Hunter]

[Tags: fluff and emotional whump, sibling relationships]

Day 15 | Prompt 15: “Who did this to you?”

Left Handed

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: G | Word Count: 574

Excerpt: Omega drapes herself further over the back of the seat, arms dangling. “What happened? Were you in a fight?” / “Something like that,” Echo grumbles, avoiding eye contact.

[Character Focus: Echo, Omega, Tech, Hunter, Wrecker]

[Tags: humor, whump, sibling relationships]

Day 16 | Prompt 16: Came Back Wrong

Stay

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: G | Words: 741

Excerpt: Crosshair watches from his perch on a wall as the sun sinks into the sea, dissolving into swatches of reds, yellows, and oranges. Discolored by twilight, sky bleeds through with deep blues and purples. It is beautiful here. Peaceful. Quiet. Safe. He does not belong here.

[Character Focus: Crosshair, Hunter]

[Tags: emotional whump]

Day 17 | Prompt 17: Hostage Situation

The Hostage

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr - Part 1)

Rated: T | Words: —

Summary: Omega is taken hostage.

[Character Focus: Omega, Hunter, Tech, Echo, Wrecker]

[Tags: action, kidnapping]

Day 18 | Alternate Prompt 1: Human Shield

Shields

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: G | Words: 730

Excerpt: “Why can’t you keep your mouth shut once in a while?” Crosshair asked, shoving roughly into Tech as they went into their barracks.

[Character: Cadet Batch]

[Tags: sibling relationships, bullies]

Day 19 | Prompt 19: “Please don’t.”

“Please don’t.”

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: G | Words: 497

Excerpt: Crosshair has experienced headaches. More than his fair share with his optical enhancement. While they were never near as severe as Hunter’s over the years, he’d learned to take them in stride, work through the pain. But this time is different. It is insistent. A sharp, isolated pain that feels as though a blade is being driven through his skull. It’s putting him on edge. Well, this and Hunter.

[Character Focus: Crosshair, Omega]

[Tags: chip activation, Order 66]

Day 20 | Prompt 20: Truth Serum

Embroidered Skulls

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: G | Words: 1092

Summary: Exposure to truth serum uncovers some secrets.

[Characters: Tech, Hunter, Echo, Crosshair, Wrecker]

[Tags: humor, barely whump]

Day 21 | Prompt 21: Unresponsive

The Fact Remains

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: G | Words: 641

Summary: After Wrecker is injured on a mission, the brothers wait for him to wake up.

[Character Focus: Hunter, Tech, Crosshair, Wrecker]

[Tags: guilt, sibling relationships]

Day 22 | Prompt 22: “You weren’t meant to be there.”

Impeccable Timing

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: T | Words: 563

Excerpt: The target in his sights moved the moment he pulled the trigger. Gone was the neck shot that would decapitate the battle droid and in its place was the familiar pale gray armor of his brother. There was nothing he could do but watch in horror as the bolt made contact.

[Character Focus: Crosshair, Tech]

[Tags: friendly fire, injury]

Day 23 | Alternate Prompt 6: Immortality

Merriest Days Ahead

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr - Part 1)

Rated: G | Words: —

Summary: A month long holiday on Pabu prompts the Batch to wonder about the legacy they will leave behind.

[Character Focus: Omega, Tech, Crosshair, Hunter, Wrecker]

[Tags: sibling relationships, fluff, emotional whump]

Day 24 | Prompt 24: “I’m doing this because I care about you.”

Belong

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: G | Words: 351

Excerpt: However, she can’t hate her brother no matter how hard she tries to let the words barb the broken flesh of her heart. The words just make her sad, a sullen and persistent ache that makes her cry when she thinks no one will hear her.

[Character Focus: Omega, Hunter]

[Tags: what-if, alternate ending, emotional whump]

Day 25 | Alternate Prompt 7: Last Words

Last Words

Star Wars: The Clone Wars

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: T | Words: 392

Excerpt: Famous last words they say, because, in reality, most last words are not spectacular or special. They aren’t deep or poetic, they don’t inspire greatness or alter the course of history. Often, they are pathetic and small, underrated and thoughtless. Because, often, you didn’t know they would be the last words you ever would speak. Even as you lay dying, you cling to that threadbare hope that you might have a moment longer. But you don’t. You die. The words you said are the last, whether you meant them or not.

[Character Focus: Kix]

[Tags: what-if, alternate ending, descriptions of dying moments]

Day 26 | Prompt 26: “Help them.”

Brave

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: G | Words: 428

Excerpt: She tries. She tries so hard to keep the tears from falling, to keep her breath even. But another hiccuping sob makes her guardian cast her a disapproving glance.

[Character Focus: Omega]

[Tags: big sister, baby Batch, emotional whump]

Day 27 | Prompt 27: Left for Dead

Stories

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: G | Words: 1624

Excerpt: “Crosshair! We’ve been looking for you,” Omega announces, unabashedly intruding on Crosshair’s peace and quiet. / Crosshair cracks open one eye to glare at his sister looming over him. He had found a lush patch of grass under a tree about a five minute walk from their Pabu abode, hidden from the prying eyes of curious neighbors and meddling siblings. Well, evidently not hidden enough.

[Character Focus: Crosshair, Omega, Tech]

[Tags: sibling relationships, emotional whump/angst]

Day 28 | Prompt 28: No…Not like this.

Coded

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: G | Words: 289

Summary: Missing scene from Season 3 Episode 4

[Character Focus: Hunter, Wrecker]

[Tags: emotional whump]

Day 29 | Prompt 29: Not Allowed to Die

Sick Day

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: G | Words: 516

Summary: Echo is sick with a fever.

[Character Focus: Echo]

[Tags: sick fic, hallucination, hurt no comfort]

[the-oc-lass]

Where's Gregor been? I miss Gregor.

TOOK ME SO LONG TO WRITE SUCH A SHORT LITTLE THING, BUT OH WELL.

Gregor is a fine piece of man and I miss him, so he gets baby time too. Gregor and a Baby is up on Ao3 (yes, I'm going to name them all "[Clone's Name] and a Baby"). It involves some of Gregor's cooking skills, some of the others are also there, and we have lots of fun.

This is a little fun series, so, in case you missed them:

Crosshair and a Baby

Wrecker and a Baby

More to come soon!

By the way, someone please tell me if it's obvious who Ec's dad is, because I got a comment telling me that the tags gave it away and I have, like no idea what they're talking about?

Anyway, in case you don't want to go to Ao3, the full fic is below the cut. Enjoy!

Gregor is the second best cook in their entire base of operations. He’s only second behind pseudo-General Rayona Yothia, and that makes a lot of sense considering that she was raised on actual food and learned to cook much earlier in her life than Gregor. That being said, Gregor is still a pretty damn good cook, and Rayona herself has said as much. The only one who doesn’t seem to agree with the sentiment is one Ec Yothia, who is just beginning his transition from his mom’s milk to solid foods. He’s apparently inherited both of his parents’ particular palates and that makes him very picky. The only thing he seems to like is fruit, specifically moja. The problem is, fruit is a hard thing to come by these days. Gregor will fight tooth and nail to get some fruit for the kid, but there’s only so much he can do. At the moment, he’s got a bowl of mashed tubbers in front of Ec and a spoonful of it in his hand. He holds it toward the baby, cooing at him to try and coax him into trying it. Ec whines and flails his arms around, pulling a face when Gregor holds the tubbers closer. It makes Gregor sigh, and he lowers the spoon back into the bowl. It’s not like the food goes to waste, at least. It’s pretty plain since he made it for Ec, but it’s still light years better than what they ate during the war and on Kamino. Troopers will fight over Ec’s uneaten meals if Gregor lets them. He sighs, looking away from Ec in defeat. Back to the drawing board. Nearby, Rayona and Hunter are both looking over at him and Ec, clearly abandoning whatever conversation they were having before. They glance at each other and Rayona sighs. 

“I’ll be back,” she says. Hunter nods and briefly sets a hand on her shoulder, perhaps to squeeze it, then Gregor watches as Rayona walks over to him. “It was a good try, Gregor. I’ll make sure he’s fed.” Gregor purses his lips and nods, looking back at Ec with a small frown. His spirit is lifted slightly when the General presses a kiss to his temple before picking up her son. She leaves the room to get Ec fed and Gregor sighs and stands up, glancing over at Hunter as he holds up the mashed tubbers. 

“Hungry?” 

After several more failed attempts at finding something Ec likes other than fruit, Gregor is running out of ideas. To his surprise, the solution comes from Wrecker. Gregor has just finished once again trying and failing to get Ec to eat something he made when the larger clone speaks up. 

“Do you remember that paste stuff they used to feed us on Kamino sometimes? It sort of tasted like fruit, I think…I dunno, I just remember Cross and Hunter used to like it. Tasted better than most of the stuff they gave us,” he says. It puzzles Gregor at first. Paste stuff that tastes like fruit? Since Wrecker mentions that Hunter and Crosshair enjoyed…whatever it was, Gregor asks them about it. 

“Jogansauce,” Crosshair drawls. “The Kaminoans would import crates of the stuff because it was cheap.” When Gregor thinks about it, that does sound familiar. 

“I remember that stuff. Tasted better than anything else they gave us on Kamino,” Hunter says, nodding along. He glances back at Gregor. “If you’re looking for something else to try with Ec, that might be a good place to start.” Gregor hums. He could probably make his own jogansauce, but that would probably be more expensive than just feeding Ec the fruit on its own. He nods after a moment. 

“Thanks. I’ll talk to Rex and Rayona,” he says. The two nod and Crosshair mumbles out a “Good luck” as Gregor walks away. 

Rayona hums, a finger curled around her chin. 

“Jogansauce, huh? They used to give that to us as younglings at the temple. Probably pretty cheap,” she says, before glancing at Rex. “Think Riyo could hook us up with some?” Rex sighs. 

“Senator Chuchi is busy, Rayona,” he says. Rayona raises an eyebrow and tilts her head at him. He sighs again, pinching the bridge of his nose. “But I can ask in the next transmission.” Rayona grins, leaning over to plant a kiss on his cheek. 

“Thank you, Rex,” she all but coos. 

Alright. Moment of truth. Thanks to the kindness of Senator Riyo Chuchi, they have some small jars of jogansauce for Ec. Now, Gregor can only pray to whatever higher power there may be (the Force, maybe? That seemed to work for the Jedi) that Ec will actually eat it. The food won’t go to waste if he doesn’t, but he’s hoping it doesn’t come to that. The entire thing has even drawn a small crowd, consisting of Rayona, the Bad Batch, and Rex. Gregor sits before a hungry Ec, a spoonful of jogansauce poised on a small spoon in his hand. He takes a breath, then lifts the spoon toward Ec’s mouth. The child considers it for a moment, then opens his mouth. Gregor holds his breath and slowly feeds the spoonful to Ec. And the child makes a delighted little noise and giggles, slapping his hands against the little table in front of him. 

“Sweet grace of the Force, he likes it,” Rayona says, sounding relieved. Gregor could cry. He may not have made the food, but at least there’s finally something else they can feed Ec. He’s utterly relieved. He scoots a little closer, scooping up another spoonful and offering it to Ec. The baby eagerly devours it, making happy little gurgling noises. Gregor looks over his shoulder at the group. 

“Wrecker, you’re a genius!” he says. Wrecker blinks. 

“I am?” He looks down at Rayona, who nods, and he grins widely and laughs. “Oh yeah, I am! You hear that, Tech?” Wrecker nudges Tech’s arm, jostling the other man slightly. Tech adjusts his goggles, glancing over at Wrecker. 

“Yes, Wrecker, I heard,” he says. Rayona looks toward Gregor and her smile suddenly drops, changing to wide-eyed surprise. 

“Gregor, watch-” She’s barely finished taking a step toward him when he’s hit in the side of the face. He lifts his hand to wipe his cheek, looking back at Ec, who giggles. The child has jogansauce all over his hands and face. And, Gregor realizes, he threw some at Gregor’s face as well. Gregor blinks at the child, who simply laughs at him. Somewhere behind Gregor, someone snorts in an attempt to hide their laugh. Ec swings his hand at Gregor and a little more jogansauce hits him in the face. Rayona carefully creeps into his peripheral vision, her hands hiding her mouth, and he looks up at her. That’s all it takes for her to start giggling. “Oh, stars, I need a holo of this. Tech!” While Rayona continues to giggle, Gregor looks back at Ec. When the child smiles at him, Gregor can’t help but chuckle and smile back. 

“Little rascal,” he says, poking Ec’s cheek. Ec giggles and Gregor hears the sound of a holo being taken, but his attention is purely on the baby. It may have gotten a bit messy, but at least Ec is happy.

P.S. jogansauce is just space applesauce.

[wreywrites]

Four-Count

Summer of Bad Batch Week 3

Prompts: "It's just a scratch" & "Forget I asked"

A/N: Both prompts this week gave very angsty vibes, so I wrote this fluff ridiculousness. Warnings: None AO3

Omega’s eyes and her presence in the Force were bright, overflowing with joy even as the song ended.

Zara bowed to her with a flourish and a grin and Omega did a sort of half-curtsy back.

“See, not that hard once you practice,” Zara panted, thankful that the band had switched to something slower—something that made Tech pull Phee a little closer as they swayed back and forth.

Omega nodded. “Thanks for teaching me! How do you dance to this? I don’t think it’s bantha shuffle music either.”

“No,” she chuckled, “you want some heavy electro for that. This is…” She paused, tapping a toe, gaze sliding out of focus over the other dancers’ heads as she measured out gliding beats. “Could fasine, probably. Or just slow dance.” Zara tipped her head toward Phee and Tech, both of them smiling and lost in each other’s eyes. “Or practice oshk footwork. It’s the same count, just way slower.”

“Oshk is one-two-turn-one-two-back, right?”

Zara nodded. “Start on the…?”

“My left, his right.”

“I’ll make a dancer out of you yet.”

“Yeah,” Omega grinned. “Now I just need to get someone other than you to dance with me.”

“Ask Hunter—just because he’s said no to the rest of Pabu doesn’t mean he’ll be able to turn you down.”

With another grin, Omega turned and hurried back to the table on the far side of the square where Hunter, Crosshair, Wrecker, and Echo were eating and drinking various items from the food stalls set up along the outsides of the square.

Zara smiled to herself and shook her head as Hunter tried in vain to resist Omega’s puppy-eyed pleas.

“Care to dance?” said a voice next to her.

She turned back toward the three-quarters of the square dedicated to dancers and the band to see one of the middle-aged fishermen—Carrick, she thought his name was.

“Sure.”

He was a surprisingly good dancer. His fasine was a little different than the way she had learned it, but it was a big galaxy, and his way made as much sense as hers, so she followed along, and when the song ended, they parted with a firm handshake and a positive answer to her query as to whether rock crabs would be in stock soon.

Zara was on her way back to the table when the low strings janked in her favorite way. She spun around, looking for Omega to square skip again, when a hand brushed her waist.

“I’m curious if I remember how to do this,” Echo grinned as she turned to face him.

“Bet you do,” she grinned back. “Fives picked it up in ten minutes—while hammered—though he may have only been so attentive to impress me.”

“He was.” Echo twirled her around until they faced each other.

Zara shook her head, still smiling. “Oh well. It was fun either way. One, t—go!” She locked her elbows and pushed him back, nearly missing the first step but hurrying them back onto the beat. Too late she remembered his prosthetic legs, but despite the years and the wear and tear, Echo was still an ARC trooper. He recovered marvelously, and he remembered most of the steps, and as the tempo of the music increased so did the speed of their passes and spins until Zara was drawing on the Force to keep her bearings and finally their feet tangled together on a pass and they crashed to the ground, laughing before they were even all the way down and drawing concerned looks and more laughter from the pairs of dancers around them.

Nursing what would no doubt be a bruised elbow but still laughing, Zara followed Echo back to the table.

“Sorry,” he chuckled, sounding wildly insincere, but she knew what he meant and how he felt.

“All good. You’re a solid square skipper, even after all these years.”

“Tell you a secret?”

“Please do.”

Echo wrapped a conspiratorial arm around her shoulders and leaned close. “Fives and Jesse and Kix and I used to practice during those long hyperspace flights—a lot—both because we were bored and because we thought knowing how to do it well would be a great way to pick up girls.”

Zara wheezed. “Which one of you was the man?”

His ears were turning pinker by the second. “We took turns.”

“Kriff, is there security footage of this?”

“That’s the only reason I’m glad about the fall of the Republic. No more incriminating security footage from med bay after hours.”

“You practiced in the med bay?”

“Not when there were people there!”

Flustered, but still grinning a little sheepishly, Echo slapped some credits down at the cantina’s outdoor bar. “Something with some kick, please.”

“Me too.”

Whatever the bartender returned with was violently fuchsia and fizzed and tickled and burned all the way down and made the hair on Zara’s arms stand on end and Echo shudder.

“Not sure if I love that or hate it,” he rasped.

“Yep.”

When they got back to the table, Hunter was still off dancing with Omega—to something much slower now—with a look of utmost concentration, and Tech and Phee were headed back to the dance floor after a quick drink.

Zara dropped into a chair.

Wrecker leaned forward, eyes full of awe. “You’re so good! And you too!” He turned his attention to Echo. “Where did ya learn to dance?”

Echo shifted in his seat. “Actually… Zara taught me. A long time ago.”

Crosshair looked like he very much wanted to say something, but Wrecker was louder as he returned his attention to Zara. “Can ya teach me?”

Slightly embarrassed at how out of breath and hot she still was, Zara pulled in a deep breath and looked a little longingly at a pitcher of water being carried by, then opened her mouth to answer.

Wrecker, though, was suddenly looking at the table. “It’s okay. Forget I asked.”

“Oh, Wrecker, no—That’s not—” Zara took another deep breath. “I wasn’t sighing because of you, just still kind of trying to catch my breath, between dancing and whatever that pink stuff was. Tell you what—go ask if they’ll play some skip, and I’ll teach you. And while you do that, I’m going to find a glass of water.”

His eyes lit up and he hurried off toward the band and the boy next to them taking music requests.

Zara got a glass of water at the ice cream stand, then got a refill. When she had finished the second cup, she returned to the table to see Echo and Crosshair with their heads together, Echo laughing as he talked and Crosshair’s eyes twinkling in the way that, for Zara, always meant trouble and sometimes mortifying embarrassment.

“—So he hops up on the bar with her and they get going, and thank the Force one of her guys was recording a vid of something else for unrelated reasons but there’s a video—”

“How do you have that?”

Echo jumped, nearly falling off his chair, spinning around at Zara’s sudden appearance right behind him.

Crosshair barked out a laugh as Echo’s ears started to turn pink again and he stammered, “I—You know—Everyone—” His voice dropped and he said in a rush, “Skully sent it around the ARC trooper group chat.”

Zara wanted to be angry—at least annoyed—but all she could manage was a snort and an eye roll. “Of course he did. That mudscuffer.”

“Isn’t it rude to speak ill of the dead?” Crosshair asked, with minimal-but-present sarcasm.

“Yes. But Skully’s not dead. Before we got involved, there was someone else running ‘retired’ clones. He’s been on Montella for a couple of years now. And if he was dead and I was speaking ill of him, it’s because sometimes he deserved it, the punk.”

Crosshair rolled his eyes.

Zara sat down again, nibbling on some leftover fries whose owner she hoped was Omega, since she was the least likely to care.

She had only eaten three when Wrecker returned.

“They said one more slow song, and then they’ll play a skip.”

“Great.” Zara stood and offered a hand to Wrecker. “We’ll practice the footwork during the slow song. Makes it easier.” She led him to an empty patch of dance floor. “Okay, stand like this, facing me, hands out palm-up, and my hands go on top. We start apart like this, then on one, you pull your arms out to the sides like this and step in with your left foot and I go in with my right, so we kind of end up side-by-side. Then on two we step in with the other foot and turn. Then step back and back. Left on one, right on two, then step right and step right.”

It took the whole slow song to get Wrecker through the steps. Zara wouldn’t have turned down another one to get more practice in, but there was nothing to be done.

“We’ll do it half-time,” she said, with an encouraging smile. “It’s a four-count, so I’ll just slow it down.”

Wrecker nodded, looking a little nervous.

“Okay. Ready? One, two, three, four. Left, right-and-turn, back, back. Good. Left, turn, slide, slide, spin—perfect!”

After a few rounds—he was really pretty good, all things considered—Zara grinned. “This time I’ll duck under your arm when we go in on one, and you let go and we’ll each slide one step away from each other and then you catch my other hand and spin me back. Okay, left, turn, back, back, left, turn, slide, slide, spin out, left, under—no no, let go!” She dissolved into laughter as Wrecker tried, too late, to let go and jerked her into the spin early and backwards.

“Sorry! Sorry!”

“No, it’s fine!” Zara untangled them and started again. “We’ll do it slow to start. You’re just overthinking it.”

“I’m tryin’ to do it right.”

“I know, and I appreciate that.”

He brightened a little.

“But dancing isn’t always about trying really really hard to do it right, you have to remember to have fun too.”

“Okay. Have fun. Got it.” Wrecker’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

Zara laughed again and walked them through the move three times, picking up speed with each round.

About then, the song was over, but the band launched into another fast four-count jig, so Zara and Wrecker kept going, faster and faster, their turns and slides and spins smoother and smoother.

Zara was still laughing and counting when she could and Wrecker’s grin spread wider with each pass. He was gaining confidence, she could tell. He caught her later on the slide-unders and pulled her back farther, sometimes letting her twirl all the way to his far hand, then twirling her back to the standard hold.

“This is fun!” he laughed after one particularly flamboyant spin.

“Yeah it is!” Zara grinned back, ducking under his arm. He spun her back and across with the most velocity yet, and—

Her shoulder slammed into something and she went down hard.

Wrecker yelped, then picked her up off the ground, revealing Phee and Tech in a pile underneath her.

“Sorry!”

“Kriff, guys, sorry, I didn’t think we were that close to anyone—”

Phee picked herself up and dusted herself off with a laugh. “No worries! We’re all dancing and having fun, and no harm done. Right?” She glanced down at Tech, sitting on the ground wiping his glasses on the hem of his shirt.

He returned the glasses to his face, frowned, and pulled them off, squinting at them.

Wrecker let out a horrified gasp. “Oh no! Tech—’M sorry! Can ya fix ’em?”

Zara felt her stomach drop. No harm done—except for Tech’s glasses.

She crouched in front of him. “Tech, I’m so sorry—”

“No need to apologize.” Tech gave the glasses one last once-over, then glanced between Zara and Wrecker. “It is only a scratch.”

“Honey, how can you tell? You’re blind as a Spintiri glowbat without those.”

Wordlessly, Tech held the glasses out to Phee.

She paused, scrutinized them, then said with an impressed shrug, “Yeah, it’s just a scratch.”

“Of course. I would have no reason to lie about such a thing.” Tech bounced to his feet and extended a hand to Phee. “Perhaps a slower dance now.”

They were off, swaying their way back toward the crowd, before Zara could say anything.

“Huh,” she said.

“Yeah, Tech’s kinda that way.”

“At least we’re all okay.”

Wrecker hung his head. “I still feel bad. He needs those glasses—blind as a glowbat without ’em.”

“They’re fixable. I’m sure he’s got a dozen spare lenses for things like this.”

“Yeah. Well… not specifically for dancin’ accidents, but yeah, he’s got a whole drawer of ’em.”

Zara nodded and they stood watching the dancers for a little while before a teasing voice spoke from her other side.

“Falling down must be a legitimate step in that dance.”

Crosshair was chewing a toothpick, arms folded loose across his chest, all his weight on one hip, not looking at her.

She turned to glare at him and he shot her a side-eye, wicked glint and all.

“You know,” he drawled, “because Echo showed me the old holo of the bar incident. And then you and Echo. And now you and Wrecker…”

Zara smiled her sweetest smile and offered a hand. “I could teach you too.”

“No tha—huhhhh.” He doubled up as her fist sank into his stomach.

She pushed a foot against his shoulder, toppling him easily. “Oh look, now you know my super-secret dance step.”

Wrecker gasped, and she was about to tell him she was joking when he said, “It was a four-count! Just like the music! One: hand out. Two: punch. Three: foot on shoulder. Four: push foot.”

Crosshair groaned and Zara grinned.

“Wrecker, you might just be my new favorite dance partner.”

He beamed. “In that case, wanna go again?”

@summer-of-bad-batch

[sev-on-kamino]

Clones x Reader

Random scenarios that live in my head rent free

First

Reader that sucks with numbers, and literally only knows their names (except Fives of course lol)

“What is CT-1409’s status?”

You give the most confused look “Who?”

“C. T. 1. 4. 0. 9.”

You rolls your eyes “Saying it slower isn’t helping. What does he look like?”

“He’s literally a clone he looks like all of them. What is wrong with you?”

You scoff, “They’re individual people. You can’t tell them apart?” Goes to look through every chart in the Med bay “Oh, sheesh, you meant Echo! He’s great. Cleared him for duty this morning.”

“How are you managing this job???”

Second

Combat medics having to use the same simulator as commandos because they need to be able to do their jobs under fire…literally

Fives having way too much fun drawing their tattoos on the training dummies and referring to them by name during combat sims

“Y/N! Jesse’s bleeding out!”

“That is not funny!” You shout before tending to the training dummy.

Kix notices you take the training more seriously though, and keeps it up

"Fives has a head wound, and Echo needs a trach, who do you help first?"

"STOP NAMING THE DUMMIES!!!"

Third

you’re The Bad Batch’s medic

you’ve never had a scratch on you

Crosshair has never let anything get within 10 ft of you

it’s a point of pride, and he looks down on the regs whose medics get injured

and then it happens to you

he is furious with himself, lowkey hovering while Tech patches you up

starts hitting the range and the combat sims twice as hard because it can NEVER happen again

you think he’s just ultra-focused

Hunter explains that he’s doing it for you because seeing you hurt scared him

you start joining him in the range, and taking the combat sims more seriously, honing your skills, and reassuring him that you love that he’s always watching out for you, but you can hold your own too

[oftincturedwords]

Title: A Precaution Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars : The Bad Batch / Star Wars : The Clone Wars Rating: T+ Chapter Warnings: Mild Descriptions of Medical Equipment , Thoughts on Potential Injuries , Thoughts on Potential Illness , Medical Equipment , Implied Medical Experimentation , etc. Characters: Hunter , Tech , Mentioned Omega , Mentioned Echo , Mentioned Wrecker , & Mentioned Crosshair. Additional Tags: Conversations , Brothers , Shopping , Team as Family , Family , Supply Runs , Heart-to-Hearts , etc. Timeline: Set during series one Star Wars : The Bad Batch ; between s01e09 ( Bounty Lost ) & s01e10 ( Common Ground ) Pairings: Gen. None. Word Count: 4296 Summary: Tech brings up a point Hunter hadn't thought of whilst they are out on a supply run, and he worries, but Tech is there to help reassure him. A/N: This fic scene has been in my head ever since I watched this series , but I haven't been able to find a way to slip it into any of my other TBB stories , but I am having it here as a one-shot. This was supposed to be under 1k words , but it grew a bit more than I was expecting agdkflg it was still fun to write , even though it made a bit sad to write it. I have no beta thus all mistakes are mine. Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to Star War : The Clone Wars & Star Wars : The Bad Batch. Neither am I associated with Lucasfilms , Disney+ , nor any of the actors who portray these characters. I make no money off any of my stories , this is purely for entertainment purposes. Read On : ao3 | under the cut

The loud bustling of the market in this town came mostly from the volume at which everyone spoke here and the various trios of musicians that seemed to be stationed at every other street corner. Hunter could name a few of the instruments, but most were of a variety he hadn't ever seen before. This world was one he, nor any of his brothers had visited prior to now, but Tech had been insistent over checking this advertised market for the supplies they needed since he hadn't been able to find what they needed on Ord Mantell.

But seeing as it was a new and unknown place, Hunter had Wrecker and Echo stay back on the Marauder with Omega. It was safer for the kid, and Tech and Hunter would draw the least amount of attention. Given their size and appearances became unremarkable when they took a leaf from Rex’s book and wore cloaks over their armour.

Besides Tech was adamant that he be on the supply run no matter who accompanied him, which wasn't uncommon when his youngest brother was being pedant over the specifics of the list. Thus Hunter had let Tech lead him around the vast market set between a multitude of shops that dotted the streets here, past stalls and venders of all sorts. Pausing here and there to check prices or pick up what they needed, with Tech proving to be a rather unyielding haggler much to Hunter's surprise. And endless amusement to see the most shady of merchants bend under his brother’s shrewd bartering.

He’d learnt a lot since they had first docked on Ord Mantell.

Thus Hunter was content to simply follow Tech’s lead and carry the items they accumulated over the last hour, from replenishments of their rations to some spare connectors and a coil of wires for minor repairs to the Havoc Marauder. As well as a spool of duranex thread for mending their clothes along with a new needle set, a box of chemwipes, a canister each of desealer and grease, and a new tuning stylus.

And Tech was finishing a deal with a vender for several patch circuits and a converter, which marked off the final few items they had been searching for. Waiting patiently until Tech had collected the purchase, holding out a hand to take the patch circuits from him to tuck them away in the backpack he carried for the express purpose of holding their shopping this day. Tech’s was already stocked full from their earlier buys.

Stowing the supplies before he shifted the pack back over his shoulders, Hunter said, “That's the last of it. Ready to head back?”

“Not quite yet actually.”

Hunter, who had partially stepped away to make back towards where they docked the ship, turned back to Tech, asking, “What is it?”

“There are a few more items I wanted to check if this market has that I did not write on the list.” Tech answered, gaze flicking away from him.

Hunter felt one of his eyebrows raise at that unusual omission from his vod’ika, it was unlike Tech to forget something like that nor was he one of deviating from the carefully budgeted docket, “Any particular reason you didn't put these items on the list?”

“Not to worry, they have already been allocated into our current sum of funds.” Tech reassured.

“You just didn't write them down.” Hunter filled in the blank that the other had left open, “Why?”

“Omega has a habit of scanning the supply lists before we set out and given her recent quandaries with Bounty Hunters along with her history on Kamino, I thought it would be prudent to keep them to myself.” Tech explained without truly answering his query.

“Tech.” Hunter sighed, exasperated by the deliberate verbal run-around the other was giving him.

“A paediatric medical kit and medpac.” Was the immediate answer from his brother.

“What?” The word leaves his mouth in place of an actual response, his brain still reeling from the fact that it was something they needed, things they should have picked up immediately as they could when they knew Omega would be staying with them. After so many close calls and it was only now that they were searching for one.

“Omega is smaller and physically younger than any of us, scanners and bandages are one thing, but if she were to require any medical intervention or medicine. We do not currently possess any for a child upon the Marauder.” Tech answered as if Hunter’s question hadn't been reflexive or retortic, “Which is an oversight on my part. One that I am working now to rectify.”

“Gods Tech.” Hunter breathed, seeming to wilt where he stood, knees feeling well at the implications of Tech’s words and outcomes that could have occurred when they weren't medically prepared to handle them for Omega.

Tech’s frown deepened, contrite and self-ramificating his expression was, “I know I should have seen to it the moment that we had the requisite credits available for such an expense, which has been three separate times now.”

“No, Tech.” Hunter shook his head, knowing this wasn't solely on Tech to prepare for nor his fault it wasn't addressed before this, “There's been a lot going on and we've all had more to deal with than ever before. Having a kid around is new for all of us.”

“Be that as it may, as our squad's sole corpsman—” Tech began to argue, but was interrupted by Hunter disagreeing back.

“You may be the one with the most medical knowledge on our team, Tech, but you can't be expected to think of everything.” Hunter strove to reassure, a corner of his lips upturning when he tacked on, “Even with that brain of yours.”

Tech huffed, eyes rolling towards the sky, but he too offered a small smile at his ori’vod to show he understood the other’s meaning and accepted the gentle teasing. It wouldn't dispel with what he thought was a grave mistake he had made in not ensuring they had purchased these precautionary items earlier, but it was a relief to know he wasn't thought less of or blamed.

“We're fixing it now, that's what matters.” Hunter gingerly knocked his van race against Tech’s in further show all was well between them, “Now we're doing you supposed we’ll find them here?”

“There is a shop up ahead that is most plausible in having something similar to what we are looking for.” Tech suddenly spoke up, waving a hand to point out the shopfront with the universal chemist sign over its door with the aubresh for ‘apothecary’ on the door itself, “In the very least, they are likely to have some items of use for children that we can add to our aidpacs until we can procure an official kit. And we need to replenish our supplies of medpatches anyway.”

“All right, I’ll follow your lead.” Hunter angled his head to signal for Tech to lead the way, to which his brother did over to the shop and up the few small steps to the door to enter it.

Following behind, Hunter was instantly met with the spiced aroma that belonged to actively burning incense which was mingled with the tang of herbal tea brewing and the accumulated redolence of hundreds of dried herbs. The strong odour had him blinking several times in quick session and clearing his throat to cover up a cough, and shaking his head at Tech, who had pointedly looked back at Hunter after catching the scent as well.

It wasn't overpowering, just surprising to his enhanced sense of smell after the open atmosphere outside. He could nearly taste the smoke and earthy resin on the air with every breath, but it wasn't the worst fragrance he had been subjected to nor the strongest, thus after a moment to grow accustomed to that essence on every inhale, he was fine.

Nodding twice at Tech, returning the other's pointed look to ensure his brother knew he was all right and set to continue, Hunter followed Tech further into the cluttered shop. Surveying the various herbal merchandise laid out in individual compartments along the nearest workbench, admiring the vastness of the collection and the variety of pre-mixed tinctures that were lined up upon the shelving units above the table, Hunter still kept half a mind on keeping up with Tech, who appeared to be headed towards the far set of worktops near the till that held assembled medpacs and an assorted allotment of replacement pieces.

Coming up next to his vod’ika, Hunter watched Tech peruse the handful for kits they had on display. Watching his brother’s eyes narrow, then him reach out to pick up a medpac that held the universal medical insignia on it, but instead of it being red, it was painted in four sections. Each a primary colour with the fourth addition being green.

Without sparing a glance towards the shopkeeper, Tech cracked open the kit to view the contents inside to which Hunter stepped closer to shield his brother’s actions from the shop-owner should he look their way. Simply appearing interested in Tech shuffling through the diverse abundance of bandages, patches, and ointments. There was even a folded sling, a finger brace, one for the wrists, trauma shears, and several different small packets of child-grade medications.

“This medpac will suffice.” Tech told Hunter, reorganising the items he had moved about to check the quality of the pac, then setting it aside but still near him before he reached up again to pull down a medkit with the same colouring, only bigger.

When Tech opened this one, there were a few of the same things from the medpac, but far more in amount and there was a lot more to the kit than the pac. Hunter spied hydration gel, spray splint, flexclamps, a hypospray with a variety of phials, a basic analyser, irrigation bulbs, bacta patches and gel, bone stabiliser, two stim-shots, and a resuscitation kit.

It held nearly everything the medical kit back aboard the Havoc Marauder had, except it was all modified for use upon a child. The size of the braces, tubes, and instruments had all been crafted for smaller, younger bodies. Even the dosages outlined along the cases of the medications were far less than what he or his brothers would take, positively minute was what it prescribed in comparison.

Seeing this had Hunter’s earlier horror over the fact they hadn't considered getting a medpac and kit sooner for Omega. If anything had happened to her prior to them purchasing this that had required more than a bandage and some bacta gel, they could have very well made things worse by having to delay treatment or face a potential overdose.

Hunter began to feel nauseous at the resurgence of those thoughts and as he watched Tech shift through the rest of medical kit’s contents. Unable to quiet the grim images his mind conjured up of what injuries would have to befall their littlest batcher for those items to be of any use. Even though they were purchasing them to err on the side of caution, with how they lived, it wasn't outside the realm of possibility that something would happen to Omega that would require such medical aid.

“Are you all right?”

Attention drawn up from the med kit and his brother’s stilled hands towards Tech’s face, a slight dazed, Hunter shook his head as he backed away from the till stand and turned to stumble out of the shop. Nearly stumbling down the few short yet uneven steps out of the entrance and over towards the side of the building. Unheeding of the call he heard from behind him.

Halting there because he didn't want to leave Tech entirely in this scarcely known market on a planet they only just this morning set foot on, but he needed to be physically away from the source of those thoughts. Or so he had thought, for they followed him here. Although it was easier to breathe without the overwhelming smell of incense and the lingering scents of all the patrons that had been inside that cramped shop all morning. The air wasn't without its harsh and burning smells, but it was clear and the subtle breeze that blew through the maze of short buildings helped.

Leaning back against the sturdy brick of the alleyway’s wall, Hunter drew several breaths as he pressed the back of his head to the unyielding surface and closed his eyes tight. Willing away the memories of battlefield wounds he had seen on troopers and civilians throughout the war when they had been stationed with companies or battalions of the GAR that tried to overlay onto every instance that Omega had been in danger. And there had been too many.

Another deep breath in, Hunter exhaled heavily as he leant forwards to place his hands on his knees. His lower back was still supported by the roughened brick behind him in order to keep his frame steady whilst he tried to get his thoughts together and emotions under control.

He didn't enjoy the idea of any of his siblings being hurt or injured, but he as well knew that his brothers had faced much already in their short lives and had been expertly trained from their birth to fight and defend against a multitude of enemies amidst active combat. For the worst of missions, the ones that were considered suicide runs for any other unit. They had the conditioning, education, experimentation, and training to craft and hone such skills for that.

Yet Omega hadn't. She was younger than them in every way except years lived and hadn't gone through even the basics of training the standard regs. went through. Her training had been in medical assistance, and even though she showed so much promise in the skills they were all teaching her and hoping to instil with proper training. None of them had wanted to instruct her as they had been trained, it had been an unspoken, unanimous decision.

And even though Hunter knew it was the right thing to do and he knew Omega was intelligent enough to help herself, he still feared at times that it would leave Omega vulnerable if they weren’t around to offer an assist and look out for her. An irrational fear he tried to tell himself and work to quiet its voice, but still it reared its head routinely and persistently.

Sliding down the wall, Hunter cringed at the scraping noise it made when the plastoid of his armour was dragged down the brick surface. But it wasn't lasting, only a moment of the grating sound before he was sitting. His buttplate clacked against the stone permacrete and he drew his knees up to rest his elbows on before leaning forwards a slight to lay his head into his upturned palms.

A few more measured breaths and the reflexive nausea began to abate, but Hunter didn't raise his head yet. Working to reassure himself, though it didn't silence the fear nor tame the anxiety, it aided in quieting it and bolstering it with facts of reality rather than the worries of imagination. No matter how real those what-ifs could become, they hadn't happened. And they were taking steps to ensure her well-being and safety persisted, thus they had plans if a worse injury or illness did come to pass for Omega.

Hearing a specific tread of footfalls coke up near him, but pause a pace away then the sound of shifting fabric and soft clack of armour as Tech crouched down near him without reaching out to touch nor overcrowd him.

“Is it a migraine?”

Hunter heard his brother softly whisper the question, pitched low enough that he would be able to hear it yet if he had been experiencing a migraine, it wouldn't have caused him any further pain to hear. The care and gentleness of Tech’s actions was appreciated, even if it wasn't needed, and it warmed something in his chest. For all their upbringing was cold and professional, detached and driven to hardened them for war, his brothers were all capable of so much kindness and tenderness.

Raising his head from his hands whilst he shook his head, Hunter blew out a long breath before he looked up at his littlest brother. Noting how Tech’s eyebrows were pinched behind the rims of his goggles and how a frown was playing at the corner of his lips, he had the other worried.

“You are rather pale.”

Hunter could tell his vod’ika wished to say more, to elaborate on every observation he had noted about Hunter that showed he had deviated from the norm to hopefully spur an explanation from him yet he saw as well as heard Tech clench his jaw closed to silence that desire. Likely surmising it would do little good at present.

“I’m fine.” Hunter added in hopes to reassure the other clone, or in the very least show that he wasn't suffering any sort of sensory overload induced ailment, “Swear it.”

Tech hummed noncommittally, seeming unconvinced by his haleness or unbelieving of his consolation, but willing to proceed under what guise Hunter wished, albeit reluctantly by how stiffly he said, “Then we should return to the Marauder. We have all the supplies we could locate here.”

“Tech.” Hunter sighed an apology within the utterance of the other's name, realising then how dismissive his reassurance had sounded.

“No, it is all right.” Tech said plainly, attempting to be unperturbed, “Perhaps Wrecker or Echo can offer an assist where I cannot?”

“No, no, it's just I,” Hunter shook his head at himself, his eyes closing for a moment, “Seeing all that medical equipment, all of it made for someone Omega’s size, a karking child, and knowing what kind of life we're leading right now… I couldn't…”

A moment of silence passed between them, Hunter dropped his head back down into a hand of his as he struggled to articulate his feelings into words. His emotions felt both frivolous yet weighted and important, yet despite knowing his youngest brother cared for Omega, he wasn't certain he wasn't alone in his anxiety.

“I understand.”

Hunter’s head whipped up from where it had slipped to hang between his drawn-up knees, a heavy weight between his shoulders whilst his arms rested on his knees and his hands hung limply over them, to stare at Tech. A touch surprised yet searching his brother’s face to see if they truly shared the same mentality on this.

“We have not exactly had what most nat-borns would consider a healthy childhood ourselves. We were commissioned for combat, crafted to be soldiers, and our very existence is thanks to an intergalactic war, thus how could we be fit enough to help raise a child ourselves?” Tech’s head tilted to the side a fraction whilst he spoke, seeming to be reciting more than speaking, as if he had heard such arguments before and knew exactly how to counter them, but Hunter knew that was simply how Tech approached more emotionally driven conversations, “However, Omega is healthy and alive in our care at the moment. We rescued her from her isolated existence on Kamino, have ensured she has her autonomy ever since then, and have given her a vast amount of off-world experiences she never would have gained if she were still on Kamino.”

“I know.” Hunter sighed, rubbing his fingers of one hand along his forehead, “I know that and I’m glad for that, but it, sometimes it feels like it's not enough. That no matter what we do, it won't be enough to keep her safe and happy.”

“Your concerns are both valid and shared. Although I usually do not wish to speak for our brothers, I can assure you, you are not alone in your uncertainties nor your anxieties.” Hunter noticed Tech shuffled a bit as he said this, likely he was wishing to break the eye contact he had kept up to ensure Hunter knew the truth of his words and their significance, “And I especially find the uncharted territory of having a younger sibling for the first time rather harrowing, as much as it is rewarding.”

Watching Tech fiddle absentmindedly with the datapad clutched in his left and finally glance down towards it, as if desiring to bring it up and tap on it, but he left it as it was. His gaze flicking back towards Hunter after a moment, seeming nervous over admitting his apprehension so openly on this matter.

“Can you imagine having four younger siblings? I’ll have grey hair by the time I’m thirteen.” Hunter allowed a small smile to upturn at his lips and directed their conversation towards a lighter note without dismissing Tech’s unreserve, “But I wouldn't ever trade knowing you or the others for anything. Grey hairs and peace of mind be damned.”

An upwards quirk came to Tech lips then and a Hunter watched his brother’s gaze drift up a fraction towards his hair, “I think you will find you won't have to wait until thirteen for those grey hairs.”

Eyes widening, Hunter involuntarily raised a hand to his head to lay it over the hair there as his mouth fell open a slight. Aiming a mock glare at the other over the rare joke a moment later when he noted Tech’s smile merely grew at seeing his actions. Jokes at his expense over his attention to his hair weren't new, but they had waned in the last few months and Hunter found, in this very moment, that he missed that teasing banter that used to fill the Havoc Marauder. It had lessened since the fall of the Republic… since Crosshair…

Shaking his head minutely at the direction his thoughts were taking him, his mind seemed to be determined to have him feeling down this day, Hunter was once again faced with Tech’s concern. His drop in mood having been easily spied on by his most observant vod.

“We saw on Saleucami, even living on a remote farm can have its dangers. Nowhere is guaranteed to be one-hundred percent safe, nor is life possible without injury or illness for anyone.” Tech spoke again, likely taking Hunter’s downturn in mood again as his persistent worry over their littlest sibling, “Which is why we do our best in the field to keep her safe, why I have accumulated several holobooks on parenting and fostering, and why we continue to try our very best with what we have. Just as we always have.”

“You've been reading parenting books?” Hunter asked, blinking in surprise, although he nearly smiled in fondness thereafter because of course his intelligent and ever learning little brother would seek out what information there was on a new subject. Especially one as important and pertaining to their lives now.

“With no other avenues available for gaining such information, I began searching the holonet for it and found several lists of recommended reading that have proved very insightful.” Tech answered, “I have a few more pertinent ones downloaded to a spare datachip if you wish to read them?”

Hunter nodded, “Yeah, that'd actually be great, Tech.”

“I shall give it to you when we are back aboard the Marauder then.” Tech returned Hunter’s nod, “And if I should come across any others that prove to be useful, I will compile them for you?”

“Thank you.” Hunter said emphatically.

Tech shook his head, “It is no trouble, but we should return before the others begin to worry. We have been gone longer than we told them to expect.”

A low chuckle came from Hunter then, a smile playing at the edges of his lips, “Last thing we need is a search party led by Wrecker and Echo in a small town.”

“Precisely.” Tech agreed, amusement clear in his voice.

Nodding twice, Hunter shuffled his feet outwards a slight to gain leverage enough to stand up. Pushing off the wall at his back with one hand and reaching the other out to keep his momentum, he felt the ghost of Tech’s hand near his elbow and upper back what he gathered his feet beneath him. But Tech hadn't touched him, only ensuring he stood in tandem with him and was at the ready should he need to steady his ori’vod.

Hunter offered a nod in thanks, appreciative of his brother’s attention even though it was unwarranted. Tech returned the gesture, seeming to stare a moment longer at Hunter as if to assure himself that the other was steady enough to continue.

“I'm good, Tech.” Hunter reassured again, knowing he still looked troubled, but he felt better after having talked with Tech over this, but upon seeing the flat look his brother sent his way, Hunter amended, “I'm… I feel better having talked about it with you. Thank you.”

A ‘tckh’ noise of rebuttal came from Tech then, “You do not have to thank me for listening to you and providing what verbal assurance I could, we are brothers, Hunter, and just because you are our ori’vod and leader doesn't mean you must carry every thing alone.”

“I know.” Was Hunter’s automatic response, but he caught the eye roll Tech gave at his words even as he stepped forwards to knock his white vambrace lightly against Hunter’s black painted one whilst Tech said, “Of course you do. Which is why you have brothers who will be here to remind you of it."

[violetjedisylveon]

✨Space lesbians✨

Amnesia AU link here.

Please ignore the bad hand, I hate drawing hands.

This is Chora(oc) and Yaosney(ES-02, not her canon name, I made it up). They are girlfriends and seeing each other for the first time in person since Yaosney was offered a position within the Empire.

The scars on their arms are from work related injuries, they are both bounty hunters and injury comes with the territory. Yaosney's scar on her face is from currently undecided trauma but she's had it for a long time. She generally covers it when on duty or out and about, she doesn't like getting asked about it.

Yaosney was offered/sorta volunteered when she saw the paycheck, a position as a soldier in the Empire, one of the first non clone troopers.

She was a better and more versatile fighter than the rest of the options and was picked for the Elite Squad led under a clone commander.

She's got the most experience of that entire squad, even Crosshair, cause she is about ~30(like Chora) and been doing the bounty hunter thing fir well over a decade, Crosshair is 12 and while he's been training for soldier stuff his whole life, he's got a lot less field experience. She doesn't mention it unless it is nessicary for a situation.

She's also the oldest of the squad, the rest are mid to late twenties. She isn't like the group mom or anything, she's like the group tired of your bs thirty year old.

She doesn't actually believe in the Empire beyond it being a good way to get a constant flow of money relatively easily for someone with her skills. She'll fake loyalty but she isn't actually a believer, she's just using it for her own means.

She's really doing it to build connections and get some money built up in case of an emergency, specifically for Chora cause non human med care is harder and more expensive, not made easier by the Empire which she gets pissed about. Bounty hunting is a gig to gig sort of job, so the Empire was the opportunity for something a bit more stable, even if it didn't always pay as much as some hunts did but it is a constant thing.

Chora didn't try to join because she really doesn't do good in that military setting and needs a degree of autonomy in her work, also she's smart enough to pick up on the fact that the Empire is a human centered government, like the Republic, and she knows she wouldn't have been allowed in based on her species. She's fine with that though.

Yaosney and Chora definitely get up to a lot of stuff and makes lots of comments about doing the stuff, just cause they both enjoy making everyone else feel very awkward, Chora was raised on Massanii, she's a bit of a shit and an asshole by nature. They've been dating since before the clone wars.

This was fun to draw, I wanna draw them again soon but I am bad at side profiles so I can't do any of that sort of stuff with them, I could draw them on a hunt together and I probably will cause that's a good idea I just thought of, but I've got some other things on my plate I wanna do.

I'm thinking of redrawing some old bad batch art of Omega and Merrin and fixing it, it was before the show came out and I didn't have a very good idea of what Omega looked like. I also forgot Merrin would also be like 12 and not 17 like she is in the game😅. That'll be fun!

I hope you all have a good day, whatever that is for you!

VJS Out!

[moonstrider9904]

Can I have some of your general nsfw hds for the Bad Batch?

Hiya, nonnie! Sure thing!! Thanks for requesting :3

Headcanons are under the cut :3

Crosshair

Likes it rough and dirty

Doing it raw (unprotected) makes him absolutely lose his fucking mind

Despite liking it rough, he’s also very caring with his partner and won’t do anything to make them uncomfortable.

Prefers to be on top and in control.

I personally HC him as a soft dom; he’ll only be a hard dom if he wants to experiment and he’ll always check in with his partner before doing it.

He loves eating out/giving oral

He’s surprisingly vocal: he makes amazing dirty talk, but he also lets out soft, low-pitched moans and groans, which he knows his partner loves.

Hunter

P a s s i o n a t e

Total switch, and lowkey prefers being bottom

He’ll be kissing you the whole time, his lips will literally always be on some part of your body. Not just the lips, but the wrists, neck, chest, thighs, wherever.

Sex with him is often on the softer side

Very vocal, mostly with sounds and not so much with dirty talk

Huge kink for leaving marks and hickeys

Generally very gentle and loving

Loves to bring his bandana into play, usually blindfolding you or letting you blindfold him—perhaps, he’ll let you tie him to the bed with it.

Wrecker

Open to trying anything at least once

Loves seeing his partner riding and straddling him

Size kink—he’s big and he knows it and he’s proud of it, babe.

Gentle giant, you’ll never be with anyone more caring than Wrecker.

Sex with him is just so natural and soft.

There’s giggling, talking, praise, encouraging.

You’re doing so well, love.

I fucking love you.

He has so much stamina and resistance—intimate sessions with him always last a lot, so have fun ;)

Echo

The king of making love; he gives the best kisses

Has a huge kink for dry humping and his partner getting off on his thigh

Enjoys mutual masturbation whilst kissing you

Usually on top, all he cares about is making you feel good

Knows how to give oral in many different ways ;)

Always starts fucking really soft, and increases his pace as he goes

By the time you’re coming, he’s relentless

Draws out his own release just so he can cum at the same time as you

He’ll always prefer missionary—eye contact just does things to him.

Tech

Whispers the dirtiest, most sinful things in your ear while doing it.

His favorite positions are missionary and doggy style.

Leaves his goggles on so you can see how they fog up while you do it.

Doesn’t mind incorporating one or two toys just to make you squirm.

This man edges you for enjoyment—he calls it sweet torture.

After having his way with you, Tech gives the best aftercare.

I personally HC him as more on the dom/top side; he knows his way around your body.

Has a bit of a kink for doing it in front of mirrors.

[heyclickadee]

I’m so sorry, @apocalyp-tech-a—I meant to thank you for the tag and and then didn’t type it out. This was fun!

1. Your favorite member of the bad batch is: All of them. I’m sorry.

2. Because: They’re all fantastic and I can’t choose.

3. You identify the most with: Tech, Hunter, and Gonky.

4. Because: Tech, because I recognize a lot of his traits and behaviors in myself, especially the version of myself that existed before I started masking heavily. I’ve had the conversation that Tech has with Omega in the cave scene in “The Crossing” before, though I’ve never handled it half as well as Tech did. Hunter, because I’m a chronically exhausted oldest sibling who has no idea how to handle failure, and I get overloaded just hearing the air conditioner and the electricity in the walls, so I feel for a guy who’s got his senses cranked up to fifteen AND can sense electromagnetic fields. Like. That’s got to be so overwhelming all the time. And Gonky, because I, too, am a rectangle who makes funny noises.

5. Your favorite minor character from the show: Aaaahhhhhh I don’t know. Most of them, but let’s go with Phee and Mayday in a solid tie.

6. Because: Phee’s a pirate, repatriator of cultural artifacts, adventurer, treasure hunter, has oodles of confidence, intelligence, and fantastic taste in men. Mayday’s just…he’s Mayday. He’s so fun and snarky and SAD I just. *cries in “The Outpost”*

7. A TBB-centric piece or post of yours that you’re most proud of: Probably my “Omega deserves to be angry,” painting.

8. Because: I wasn’t super happy with how it looked, but I was still proud of it because it was the first piece of art of any kind that wasn’t either for work or for school that I took farther than a sketch and actually finished in years. Long story, but I had to switch careers and go back to school in my late twenties, got a job at a call center to pay for rent and food at least, and by halfway through my junior year of school round 2: career switch boogaloo, I was so desperate to get away from the call center that I found a full time (technically freelance) gig at a small local game studio at the same time I was going to school full time and working on my senior film. Between the call center, which was…a bad fit, let’s say, working full time at the studio, and full time school + capstone project, I got a little burned out. A lot burned out. So, so burned out, and I haven’t recovered. After graduation I didn’t draw or model anything that wasn’t strictly for work for about a year and a half, and even doing it for work was a stretch a lot of the time. I’m only just now starting to get back into it and, honestly, I’m super rusty at anything that’s not the kind of stuff I do at work (mostly models of teeth and bones). So it was really nice to actually finish something that was just for me.

9. Link: https://www.tumblr.com/heyclickadee/723760359202258944/omega-deserves-to-be-angry

10. A TBB piece of fanart that slaps so hard you enjoy and why: That one piece of fanart of Crosshair strapped down on that torture slab and crying by @beetlecrest because holy shit. The colors? The emotion? The textures? It’s GUT-WRENCHING but it’s so, so well done.

11. Link: GO LOOK AT IT https://www.tumblr.com/beetlecrest/724401897544597504/it-was-heartbreaking-to-see-crosshair-get-strapped

12. A TBB-centric fanfic that gives you life you enjoy and why?: I really like @niobiumao3’s Obliquity, partly because it’s a Tech Lives fic, partly because it’s Techphee, but especially because they’ve got a really interesting take on Phee’s backstory. Also, Jedi Phee!! And I have to put @eclec-tech’s A Crosshair Carol in here, too. The end of the first chapter punched me in the gut.

13: Links: Obliquity: https://www.tumblr.com/niobiumao3/715766610818973696/obliquity-niobium-star-wars-the-bad-batch

A Crosshair Carol: https://www.tumblr.com/eclec-tech/704074527449219072/a-crosshair-carol-chapter-1-amberowl24-star

14. A TBB headcanon or trope that is basically canon to you: The Bad Batch trained as commandos their entire lives, but the Kaminoans never intended to let them out into the field. It’s not that they weren’t capable, but they were an experiment, and depending on your point of view sort of a failed experiment; they’re fantastic at what they do, but all that conditioning the Kaminoans put the clones through didn’t really take with them. But then Cody stepped in directly after the battle of Kamino and vouched for them, thinking their skills would be useful despite (or because) of their differences, and then the Kaminoans decided, well, okay, let’s see how this experiment does in a field test.

15. Color(s) you think would suit Crosshair if he were given “mercenary” armor: A blue that isn’t quite gray with red and orange highlights here and there.

16. One thing you NEED to see happen in season three: Tech being alive, first of all, though that’s less of a need and more of an expectation. When I said that I was going to talk about Tech’s survival as a matter-of-fact after the Joel Aron tweet, I meant it. He’s alive, and the onus is on the show to prove him otherwise.

What I really need, though? I need this little family to be okay. I neeeeeed the clone force 99 family to be okay. A worrying percentage of my mental health is hinging on this family being okay in the end.

NPT (also sorry if you already did this): @im-no-jedi @lightwise @littlefeatherr @eriexplosion @eclec-tech

Fellow Zealots of The Bad Batch, Unite!

Please share your answers to these questions and pass them on to some of your Bad Batch-loving buds!

Your favorite member of TBB is:

Because:

You identify the most with:

Because:

Your favorite minor character from the show:

Because:

A TBB-centric piece or post of yours that you are most proud of:

Because:

Link so that we can appreciate it:

A TBB-centric piece of art that slaps so hard you enjoy (and why):

Link:

A TBB-centric fanfic that gives you life you enjoy (and why):

Link:

A TBB headcanon or trope that is 100% canon to you:

Color(s) you think would suit if Crosshair gets "Mercenary" armor:

One thing you NEED to see happen in Season 3:

@wwheeljack @wrenkenstein @floundrickthewayfarer @raevulsix @enigmatist17 @slenderboo @echojedis @nika6q @zaana @wiseowl18 @toastyrobos @eclec-tech @jigget @destril @niobiumao3

[rainydaydream-gal18]

(The Bad Batch) Going on a Boardwalk

   Imagine: You and the Bad Batch go on a boardwalk by the ocean!

(Author’s Note: Happy Bad Batch eve!!!!)

   You arrive at sunset.  The sky is a striking orange which is beginning to fade into dark blue, with the horizon above the ocean painted with all sorts of pastels in between the two shades.  The group sets foot on the creaking boardwalk and looks ahead at the long row of stands and shops that goes for miles.  Omega is “ooh”ing and “aw”ing at all the lights, and she pointed excitedly at the rides down by the pier.

   And so, the Bad Batch begins the trek along the boardwalk.

   Hunter’s first instinct is to watch Omega and smile at her reaction to the location.  There’s a pretty decent crowd, so he makes sure to keep an eye on her.  If you’re his significant other, you may be used to having to share your Sergeant since he was responsible for the squad...but it’s a boardwalk and it’s supposed to be fun, so you encourage him to relax.  Hunter eventually is able to let go and enjoy himself, entwining his fingers with yours and walking with you.  His favorite part of the boardwalk so far is hearing the crash of the waves nearby, hearing the seagulls, and feeling the salty air.  He absolutely loves glancing beside him to see you smiling and appreciating the sights too.

   Tech spends the first few minutes on his datapad gathering whatever intel he could about the shops they have and whatnot.  He rarely goes into a situation without research simply because he likes to be prepared and he likes to have information whenever his brothers ask a question.  After that, he is quite happy to simply savor the scenery.  If you’re his date, he’ll want to hold your hand the whole way as you walk and take in the things to do.  Tech is interested in boardwalk games and arcades, and though he might not say so right away, you can see him staring whenever passing by one.

   Echo is smiling a lot.  His mood is light as his gaze wanders the stands and sees all the happy people walking by.  This was the vacation that was long overdue, and he was going to enjoy it.  Lots of things grab his attention: the food, the games, the rides.  Omega convinces him to go on a ride with her later.  If you’re his significant other, he’d be at your side the whole time, holding your hand.  He’d rather let you pick what you want to do or see first.

   Wrecker is in awe of all the things you can do and see in one place.  He and Omega are chattering about all the rides they want to go on later at the pier.  He is pretty fixated on the food for now.  If you’re his significant other, you may find that he goes from holding your hand to running toward whatever catches his eye, which happens often.  He’s pretty fixated on food and most likely won’t move on until he has something to eat.  Ever the gentleman, he wants to be sure you get something too.

   Crosshair remains at your side as his sharp eyes take everything in.  He likes to follow the rear of the group.  Normally, he isn’t one for public displays of affection, but with all the young men running around in groups and after noticing the other couples walking hand-in-hand, he feels the need to mark you as his.  You’ll feel his hand gently take yours, and when you glance over he is already gazing at you.  He’s content to go wherever you want to go and just enjoys seeing you happy.

   Omega is super excited and spends the first fifteen or so minutes planning to go on rides and trying to get her brothers to volunteer to take her.  Her eyes are aglow from the lights reflecting in them.  There are people who stand in front of the shops playing with whatever toy or fad was in to try and draw in customers, and Omega would definitely be drawn in.  She’d want to play with the bubble machines and robo pets even if for a few minutes before moving on.  

   After walking farther down the boardwalk, the Batch finds themselves drawn to different things, so they agree to separate for a little while.

   Hunter will explore the shops with you, but he is most drawn to the edge of the boardwalk where he can watch the sun go down over the ocean.  If you’re his date, he would take the opportunity of having the others distracted to just shower you with affection.  He doesn’t make a scene or anything, but he smiles warmly at you,  gives your hand a little kiss, and kisses your forehead in between ganders at the ocean.  Eventually, he can’t resist anymore and tilts your chin to meet your lips with his own in a tender kiss just as the sun dips beneath the horizon.

   Tech wants to play some arcade games, if you’re up for it.  He enjoys showing off his intellect and skill, but sometimes he likes a good game of chance where anything can happen.  He can calculate probability for those scenarios, but not much beyond that.  He also really loves watching you.  He’ll stand behind you with his chest pressed to your back and watch you play your favorite game.  His absolute favorite is to go up against you in a two-player game.  He loves the competition and when you playfully talk smack when he gets cocky.  If Tech wins, he’ll want a kiss as his prize.

   Echo will gladly go along with whatever his significant other wants to do first.  If you want to look at the ocean, he is more than happy to do it with you.  If you’d rather get something to eat, he’s in.  One thing he does want to do during your time together is browse the gift shops and pick up a souvenir.  He’d treat you to something like matching oversized hoodies with the boardwalk logo on them or nice mugs to use for caf aboard the Marauder.  If you tried hard enough to convince him, he might even agree to get those matching couple shirts displayed in the windows like “her king” and “his queen” or something customized.  He playfully rolls his eyes as you hold one of the shirts up in front of him, but he can’t help but lean in and capture your lips in a loving kiss.

   Wrecker definitely wants to grab something to eat first.  There are so many different places that he can’t decide which one to commit to for his first boardwalk meal.  He ends up getting a little something from a few different places.  Pizza, hotdogs, fries… He gets enough for both of you to share, and the two of you would find a nice spot at a table near the edge where there’s a lovely view of the ocean.  After the two of you are full, he’d be more attentive and open to whatever you wanted to see next, holding your hand and giving you kisses.

   Crosshair is fine with letting you lead the way to whatever you wanted to do first.  He is enjoying all of the sights with you, and that’s more than enough for him.  However, if you were to ask if there’s anything he’d like to see in particular, he wouldn’t mind stopping in one of the shops with henna tattoos and edgy t-shirts.  He’d get himself an oversized hoodie to wear for a little while before pulling it down over your form when the sun disappeared behind the horizon and it got colder outside.  He’d smile at you as you hugged yourself in the air and sighed in contentment: That new hoodie smell would be mingled with his own scent.  He takes your hand again and the two of you continue on your way.

   Omega tags along with one of her brothers for a while and ends up getting something to eat and a toy from one of the shops to keep tucked under her arm as she explores.  She begs Hunter to let her get a temporary tattoo.   He’s hesitant because she’s young and he doesn’t want her to think she has to impress the group by getting a real tattoo someday, but since it’s only a temporary one just for fun, he decides it’s okay.  Omega gets a little seahorse and starfish on the back of her hand.

   Next up are the rides!  The group reunites and heads over to the pier to buy some tickets.  With the sun down, the rides are all lit up in the dark.

   Hunter won’t pressure you to go on anything if you don’t like rides, and he will probably only go on a couple of rides with Omega to make her happy, but will spend most of the time at your side.  If you do want to go but are a little nervous, he’ll gladly hold your hand and tease you playfully until you go with him.  If you are the kind of person who loves to go on all the rides, he’ll go on a few with you and stand by and hold your things while you go on more.

  Tech will definitely go on some rides if you want to.  Otherwise, he will try one or two on his own and be content with standing back and watching everyone else alongside you.  He might get some recordings of Wrecker’s screams on the really high ones that Omega managed to convince him to go on.  If you do go on crazy rides, Tech will film your reaction to play back and tease you lovingly about with that cute smirk on his face.

   Echo would rather watch the others have their fun.  He gets a little salty and says Tech’s wild flying is more than enough for him.  However, Omega somehow got him to agree  to go with her before, so he’ll keep his word and go on a ride with her.  If you enjoy rides, he will also make an exception for you too.  However, if you’d rather watch the others, the two of you can stand near the ride and wave as they go.

   Wrecker loves fast rides, but still is terrified when it comes to heights.  He’ll tolerate a rollercoaster that goes in a few loops, but if it’s the kind that climbs agonizingly slow to the top and then flies down a steep drop from a few hundred feet up, he’ll be covering his eyes and screaming.  Him and Omega stick to the ones that aren’t too bad.  If you enjoy rides, Wrecker will be happy to go on them with you.  He’ll even accompany you on one of the high coasters if you insist on going by yourself, because he’s worried for you and wants to protect you even if it scares the heck out of him.  If you don’t like rides, he’ll probably still go on a few with Omega.  The two of them will wave at you and grin adorably.

   Crosshair is not scared one bit and will do the craziest ride on the pier, if challenged.  It makes him the perfect person to go on rides with if you’re a little scared.  He’ll go on anything with you, keeping calm and holding your hand even if you’re totally freaking out.  Doesn’t matter if you want to go on thirty rides or just one, he’s down.  If rides aren’t your thing, he’s also fine to stand with you and watch the others.  Better watch out, if he feels the need to show off, he will go on the craziest ride just to make a point.

   Omega wants to go on every ride within reason.  There are height limits to some, so she’ll obviously avoid those.  Her and Wrecker are buddies when it comes to rides since he;s the Bad Batcher who enjoys them the most, although she’ll manage to get Echo and Hunter to go with her on a few.  And if everyone else is done with rides, Tech or even Crosshair will go on one with her.

   The squad will turn and head back toward the exit.  They may stop at a few stands on the way back to see anything they missed on the way up.  Omega is exhausted, so one of the brothers carries her back.

   When you get back to the ship, everyone is tired and heads to their bunks.  You get cozy with your Bad Batch SO and drift off to sleep...