#The Bad Batch x Reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

stellarbit · 1 year ago

Text

Shifting Loyalties

No warnings. 2.3k words

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: nada

Pairings: SFW The Batch x fem!reader

Summary: You're a dropout Jedi who left with Echo to join the Bad Batch. You and The Batch are assigned to work with the 501st. The Batch get a bit spicy about how friendly you are with the regs.

NSFW Edition

Inspired by physical touch by @queenariesofnarnia :') it's perfect

The Marauder's landing ramp wasn't halfway extended, and your foot tapped with anticipation. Spotting the 501st squadron as you descended, they stood in a group, not in formation, eagerly awaiting your arrival. Working with the Bad Batch was a thrill, but you couldn't deny missing your first squad.

When Echo departed, Hunter extended you the same offer to join the Bad Batch. As a Jedi dropout, you no longer belonged on Coruscant or in the Order. Your path diverged, but that didn't mean you didn't occasionally yearn for your old teammates.

Before it was fully safe to exit, you hurled yourself out of the ship, dashing toward the awaiting clones. The Batch were momentarily stunned; even Tech tore his eyes away from his datapad at your sudden outburst.

"Shorty!" Fives exclaimed as you barrelled into his arms, spinning you around before settling you among your old squad.

"Shorty?" Crosshair sneered, visibly annoyed by what he was seeing. You darted between the regs, embracing each one, sometimes two at a time.

You meshed well with the Batch, but they weren't the touchy-feely type. Consequently, you lacked the courage to breach physical boundaries, especially considering how often you seemed to get under their skin. After your fallout with the Order, you couldn't risk facing any more rejection.

As the Batch followed after you, Wrecker swiveled his head toward his brothers, clearly confused. "Wha- what's going on?" He scratched his head, gesturing in your direction. "What's all that about?" He referred to your playful antics with the group of regs, laughing and roughhousing like a child.

You weren't cold toward them; in fact, you engaged in comfortable teasing. However, you maintained a professional distance, refraining from physical contact, let alone running into their arms.

Echo shrugged, a smile playing on his lips as he reminisced about his former life. "She's just saying hi," he explained. "She served with the 501st for a long time, even before I was taken to Skako Minor." Nostalgia washed over him at the sight of you standing with his 501st brothers - just like old times.

Hunter blinked in astonishment. "That's normal for her?" He had never witnessed you so carefree and jovial before.

Tech tucked his datapad away, adjusting his goggles as he observed the scene. "By their reactions, this doesn't seem abnormal for her. Why this is the first time we're witnessing it, I'm uncertain." He turned to Echo. "Have you seen this behavior before?"

"Sure, but you're all overthinking it," Echo replied, realizing the tension building among his brothers. "She's just comfortable with them." He regretted the last sentence immediately, sensing their egos regarding regular clones turning this joyful reunion into an unspoken competition.

"If she's so comfortable with them," Crosshair spat, "Maybe she should go back to her precious regs." It was exactly the response Echo feared.

The group watched as you responded to Jesse's teasing with a flirtatious elbow, then stumbled slightly into Rex, who steadied you with a hand on your shoulder.

"It's good to see you. Keeping Echo out of trouble?" Rex smiled down at you, then glanced at Echo standing among the Batch. His smile faded upon noticing Clone Force 99 in various stages of glowering. He patted your shoulder. "Uh… why don't you find General Skywalker while I brief the rest of your squad?"

Without a glance back at the Batch, you followed the order. Anakin briefed you on the mission before easing into conversation. "How are you holding up?" He leaned against a crate of supplies.

"It was hard at first, but I feel…" You paused, feeling a warmth spreading over your chest, grateful it rarely reached your cheeks. "At home with the Batch." You couldn't suppress the smile the thought of the Batch brought you. They made your life exciting, and you felt safe fighting alongside them.

Anakin hadn't missed the looks Clone Force 99 threw your way, especially the nastier ones aimed at the clones you hugged. "I'm glad to hear that, Short Stuff." When Hunter and Wrecker glanced over at the two of you with something like disdain, Anakin smirked. Oh, this is too easy. He leaned down just enough so that your face eclipsed his, just out of sight of the Batchers. "Though, it looks like your new crew isn't too happy with you."

You jerked back, incredulous. "Excuse me?" By the time you whipped around, the Batch were already to the Marauder. Everything seemed normal. You shoved Anakin back. "Kriff off, Skywalker."

Anakin raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. Anyway, it looks like it's time for you to rejoin your squad. Good luck."

"Pfft, good luck?" You pulled a face and cracked your neck. "I don't need luck on missions." You may have missed the Jedi General, but you did not miss his arrogant humor.

Anakin smirked as you headed back out and out of earshot. "It wasn't for the mission."

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

Inside the ship, the atmosphere shifted when you returned. Hunter, Wrecker, Crosshair, Tech, and Echo were scattered about on various tasks, their sudden silence and exchanged glances going unnoticed by you as you busied yourself with pulling out sleeping supplies. There was no way you were missing a chance to sleep off the ship.

Sat cleaning his gun, Crosshair’s eyes bore into your back. It didn’t take Hunter’s senses for you to feel his glare. Still packing, you said over your shoulder, “What is it, Crosshair?”

“Oh, nothing,” Crosshair sneered, leaning forward. “Just didn’t realize you missed your regs so much.”

“And why wouldn’t I miss them?” You snorted, not realizing that earned you an even nastier look from the white-haired clone. “Some people have friends, Crosshair. What’s wrong with that?”

Raising an eyebrow, you turned to face him, a smirk playing on your lips. "And what's wrong with that? Some of us actually have friends, you know."

Tech, engrossed in a control panel, interjected, "He's not questioning your friendships. He's just pointing out the obvious preference you seem to have for your old squadmates."

Your hands stilled, and you turned to face them, sensing an underlying tension in the air. "What's going on here?"

Wrecker shuffled awkwardly, his expression troubled. "We just thought you were happier with us."

"I am happy!" you exclaimed. "But it's natural to be excited to see old friends, isn't it?"

When Wrecker’s defeated look didn’t change you looked to Hunter, the sensible brother, for relief. Instead, he had his arms crossed and eyes fixed away from you.

They can’t be serious. You started to turn to Echo when Crosshair abruptly got up, setting his gun aside, and loomed over you within a second.

“Don’t look at Echo to save you,” Crosshair growled, his voice low and menacing. "You seem a little too cozy with them for just 'old friends.'" You tried to step away, but found yourself backed against the counter behind you.

“Cross,” Hunter warned, but his brother didn’t heed the caution, slamming a hand on the shelf a few inches from your face.

The close proximity allowed you to catch Crosshair's scent—gun oil and mint—a combination you'd never been so close to before. It left you breathless, barely able to formulate a response. Crosshair raked his eyes over you as he idly lolled a toothpick around his mouth. He leaned in close. “Why so shy now, Shorty?” he taunted, his voice dropping even lower.

Despite the shiver you felt at the nickname rolling off Crosshair’s tongue, ignored the jibe. “What’s your problem with ‘Shorty’?” you bit back, unwilling to back down.

Tech swiftly wedged himself between you and Crosshair, his tone firm but diplomatic. "Let's not act like children here." Placing a hand on your chest and the other on Crosshair's shoulder, he continued, "Although 'Shorty' might not be the most accurate nickname. If you prefer something else-"

His voice trailed off as he noticed the flush creeping up your chest and spreading to your cheeks and ears. Tech's wide eyes darted between your face and his hand, realizing the unintended intimacy of his touch. "Oh," he stammered, but didn’t pull back his hand. "I-I apologize."

Feeling the weight of their collective stares, you squirmed uncomfortably, yearning for some space to breathe. Tech's touch, coupled with Crosshair's taunting sent a flurry of conflicting emotions coursing through you, rendering you speechless. It seemed like every part of you was reacting, including that one lower part that seemed to have a mind of its own.

Before the tension could escalate further, Echo chimed in with an observation. "Well, I've never seen that before."

Returning to reality, you brushed Tech's hand away and swiftly grabbed your sleeping gear, attempting to regain your composure. "You're all acting like a bunch of-"

"It looks like our sarad is finally blossoming," Crosshair mocked, his voice laced with amusement.

Unable to take another word from him, you shoved past Tech to lunge on Crosshair, whose scowl was now a shit eating smirk. “I’ll wipe that smug-”

Hunter jumped in to hold you back. “Back off, Cross.” You were still grabbing for Crosshair when Hunter’s firm grip on your waist registered with you. You stiffened as Hunter detangled your arms from his shoulder and pulled you aside. He turned to you and surprised you by gently cupped your cheek. “Listen, we’re not trying to upset you.”

You were too aware of all the places your bodies had just touched - where his hands had been. It was all too much and with his hand on your face you simply couldn’t move.

The unexpected closeness and the warmth of his touch left you momentarily stunned, struggling to process the flood of sensations. With an effort to maintain your composure, you pulled away from Hunter's touch, grabbing your gear tightly. But before you could make your escape, Wrecker wrapped you in his arms and wrung you off your feet. “Aw, don’t be mad, we were just worried!” All you could focus on was the size of his hands and how nice his arms felt. When he dropped you, you just stood hunched over with a death grip on your sleeping pack.

The way you just stood at the mouth of the ship wide eyed and huffing, you probably looked like a deranged blurg. You felt deranged. In mere minutes you’d gone from composed to weak kneed simply from a few touches and teases. Being the center of their attention in those minutes had lit something in you that was quickly getting out of control. You still couldn’t manage words when you took off down the Marauder’s ramp.

At once Hunter, Wrecker, Crosshair, and Tech looked back at Echo. Echo echoed the collective astonishment, his tone tinged with bewilderment. "I've never seen her act like that before."

Tech, ever the analyzer, observed the physical signs of your distress with keen interest. He looked down at the hand he'd placed on your chest. "Her heart rate and temperature were elevated," he noted, his analytical nature kicking in. "Her coloring was..." He paused, searching for the right word, "...unexpectedly vibrant." Tech was quick to record his observations, whether mentally or digitally, finding your behavior to be a fascinating new discovery.

"Intriguing," Tech mused, adjusting his glasses with a confident shrug. "Her conduct with us doesn't align with her interactions with her former squadron. This divergence suggests a remarkably positive correlation." His conclusion was delivered with a note of excitement, indicative of his realization of the significance of your reaction. "And I am seldom wrong."

Each member of the Bad Batch absorbed Tech's assessment in their own way, contemplating the implications of your behavior.

When it was time to part ways with the 501st, you made your good-byes. The Batch weren’t much for good-byes, aside from Echo giving an extra farewell to Rex, they watched on from the mouth of the Marauder. You didn’t know when, or if, you’d see them again so you were saying good-bye to each clone.

Jesse sauntered over to the Batch as you engaged in one last round of roughhousing with Fives. He glanced at you, then at the Batch. An obvious jab that didn't fail to elicit a snarl from Crosshair. “Looks like she's clinging to her ‘regs’ a bit too tightly,” he remarked, his tone laced with thinly veiled mockery. Crosshair's lip curled in response, a silent warning brewing beneath his steely exterior. “Maybe it's time she remembers where she belongs.”

“Ay! Sarad!” Wrecker’s voice boomed out suddenly, your head immediately snapping to attention. “You comin’ or what?”

Tech, with a slight adjustment to his goggles, couldn't help but notice the telltale signs of your embarrassment—the faint flush creeping up your cheeks, the nervous smile that flickered across your lips. It was a sight that stirred something in his usually analytical mind. “Looks like she's right where she belongs,” he remarked softly, a rare hint of sentimentality in his tone.

Jesse let out a huff of resignation. “I suppose so. Just make sure you take care of her,” he muttered before slipping away.

As Wrecker slung his arm around your shoulders, nearly toppling you over, you hesitated for a moment. But instead of pulling away, you returned the gesture with a small hip bump, a silent olive branch. This is really going to take some getting used to.

Hunter, helmet tucked under his arm, stepped forward. “If you ever decide you want to go back to the 501st... we'd understand,” he offered, his tone tinged with sincerity.

You shook your head with a laugh, stepping out of Wrecker’s embrace. Playfully knocking an elbow into Hunter’s side, you grinned. “You think I’d trade you guys for the 501st? Not a chance,” you replied, your words carrying a hint of affection.

“Oh, spare us the sentimentality,” Crosshair interjected dryly, though the faint twitch of his lip betrayed a hint of amusement.

As you stood among the Batch, you laughed to yourself. This is going to be fun.

1K notes · View notes

kaminokatie · 8 months ago

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Omega Calls You Mum || The Bad Batch

Synopsis - The Batch react to Omega calling you mum.

Warnings - NSFW.

Notes - Season 3 spoilers, kinda, for Crosshair's part.

Word Count - 8.1k.

{Caffeinate Me}

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Hunter:

“Mum, can Wrecker and I go for some mantel mix?” Omega asked you. Your eyes widened at her question and your mouth opened immediately to answer, but Hunter was quick to answer for you.

“Just don’t leave Wrecker’s sight.” Omega hadn’t even thought twice about her slip-up and instead, turned on her heels to go and tell Wrecker that they had been given permission to head out. Once she had left the room Hunter looked at you with dark eyes, wild with desire. When he spoke, his voice was a low growl. “Did you tell her to call you that?”

“What? Mum?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows while shaking your head rapidly.

“Are you sure?” Hunter asked, his voice dangerously low as he moved closer to you.

Your eyes were wide, your head still shaking rapidly. You thought that Hunter was mad, but he was far from it. “I’m positive,” you tried to defend yourself. Hunter stood up, his fingers flexing as he grabbed your arm and tugged you out of the cockpit. “Hunter!”

“Get in there,” he growled, pushing you into the small, cramped room filled with bunks. Hunter didn’t even give you a second to ask what he was doing before he locked the door behind him and shrugged off his armour, letting it hit the floor with a clank until he was dressed just in his blacks. Your eyes widened as you saw his erect cock straining against the black material of his undersuit, your mouth drooling at the pre-cum stain that had leaked through his boxers. “Is this what you wanted?” Hunter hummed.

“I didn’t mean for her to call me mum, I swear!” You exclaimed. And yet despite the fear of the unknown, of what Hunter was going to do to you, you couldn’t help but feel extremely aroused. The heat pooling between your legs was enough to make you feel dizzy, and you staggered towards Hunter. Throwing your arms around his neck, you kissed him fiercely as your right hand moved down his body to rest on the front of his throbbing cock. You could feel it, warm and twitching through his undersuit.

“Get these kriffing blacks off of me,” Hunter cursed under his breath as his hands desperately undid the undersuit, ripping it off his toned body and leaving him completely bare to you. Hunter pumped his cock a few times as he stared at you, his eyes saying everything he was thinking. You let out a whimper of desire as you began to undress quickly, letting Hunter’s eyes scan every inch of your body as you exposed yourself. “So perfect,” he whispered breathlessly. You shook your head at him, but Hunter was quick to grasp your hips and pull you into a bruising kiss. His hands roamed over your body, groping at your breasts greedily as his tongue slipped into your mouth. “You want me to make you a real mummy so badly, huh?” Hunter growled out against your lips.

“Kriff yes,” you whimpered softly, nodding your head.

Hunter turned you around so you were facing the wall, his hands falling down to your hips. “Hands on the wall beautiful,” he whispered in your ear, his voice sending shivers down your spine. You did as Hunter commanded, putting the palms of your hands onto the wall in front of you. “Good girl.” His praises sent another shiver down your spine and just as you were about to speak up, to voice your embarrassment, Hunter slammed his cock into your tight hole. A wanton moan left your lips at the sensation, no matter how many times you and Hunter had sex, the initial stretch never got easier for you to take.

“Hunter!” You squealed out. “I need a minute,” you begged.

“No,” he snapped as his hips thrashed against yours. You were already a whimpering mess underneath him and he had barely even touched you, his cock had barely even impaled you. Hunter didn’t give you any time to adjust, instead he continued to fuck into you mercilessly, his mind filled with thoughts of you being a mother to his child. The thought alone almost made him cum immediately, but he slowed his hips down momentarily to give him time to think. “Cyar’ika you’re so warm and tight around me,” Hunter groaned as he sped up his pace once again.

You let out a choked cry as the palms of your hand slipped down the wall slightly, your back bending over. Hunter revelled in this new position, his cock hitting deeper inside of your cunt with each and every thrust. He couldn’t get enough of you, of feeling you like this. It drove him mad with desire. You couldn’t stop the moans that were threatening to fall from your lips, and you didn’t seem to care that Echo, Tech and Crosshair were still on the Marauder. Hunter's hands gripped your waist tightly, so hard that his touch was almost bruising on the tender flesh of your hips. Sounds of skin-slapping-skin filled the cramped room and you were certain the noise would be heard from the cockpit. “Hunter I’m going to cum!” You cried out softly, your head spinning from the intense pleasure that was welling in your gut.

“Cum for me cyar’ika,” he whispered, the pet name falling from his lips effortlessly. It didn’t take much convincing for the coil in your stomach to snap. At Hunter’s words, your entire being crumbled, the coil in your stomach finally snapping until all you saw was searing hot, white pleasure behind your eyes. Your legs shook violently and Hunter had to move a hand from your hip to wrap around your waist to keep you upright. “I’m going to cum now, so kriffing much. It’ll be leaking out of you for days.” You couldn’t comprehend what Hunter was babbling about, you were too cockdrunk to fully think. You were a whining mess as Hunter held you upright, pounding into you effortlessly with as much force as he could muster. His cock twitched inside of you as he came, rope after rope of hot sperm pouring into your abused cunt until you physically couldn’t take anymore. “You’re so beautiful,” Hunter mumbled into your ear. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too Hunter,” you whispered back as he pulled out of you, a soft noise leaving your lips at the loss of fullness in your pussy. You let yourself come down from your high before you clothed yourself once again.

After a few moments of silence, Hunter spoke up from his position on his bunk: now laying down with one hand behind his head. “If you’re Omega’s mum, does that make me her dad?” He asked teasingly.

“You’re her brother Hunter,” you chuckled as you lay down next to him.

“Well, hopefully I’ll be a dad soon,” he whispered, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead and placing a hand on your stomach lovingly. Something inside of him had awoken at Omega calling you ‘mum’ and he had no idea what it was, but he never wanted it to go away.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Crosshair:

Life on Pabu was different from anything Crosshair could have ever imagined. Never in his wildest dreams did he think he would be living on an island, leaving the life of a soldier behind him and settling down. It had been a year since Crosshair had shot Hemlock on Tantiss, a year since Omega was saved from that hellhole and a whole year since you and Crosshair had fallen into each other's arms. Now, you shared a quaint little house with Crosshair on the shores of Pabu, a place where the two of you could relax and just be together in your early retirement.

The morning sunlight broke through the curtains stirring both you and Crosshair awake. The birds chirping outside the open window made the gruff sniper groan quietly as you sat up, stretching. Omega had stayed at your home overnight and would probably be awake any minute now, if she wasn’t already. You had to prepare breakfast. You pulled on your nightdress and opened the bedroom door. “Where are you going?” Crosshair grumbled, his eyes still closed.

“To make breakfast. Do you want any?” You asked quietly.

“Mmm,” Crosshair mumbled as he thought. “Just some caf, I’ll be down in a minute.”

You nodded your head silently and turned to leave. You crept your way down the hallway and down the stairs to the kitchen, in an attempt not to wake up Omega. You immediately opened the cupboards to see what you could make for breakfast. As your eyes scanned the ingredients and food tins you decided to make one thing that Omega loved: pancakes. You grabbed the needed ingredients out of the cupboard and began making them. Just as you were about to start making breakfast you heard Crosshair stumbling around in your shared bedroom and you let out an exasperated sigh. There was no doubt in your mind that with all his faffing, he would have woken Omega. You had half expected her to run down the stairs immediately after waking up, but much to your surprise she didn’t. Instead, she came plodding down with Crosshair, the two of them rubbing sleep from their eyes and yawning in sync. “Pancakes for breakfast!” You chimed as you finished plating up Omega’s pancakes.

“Thanks mum,” she mumbled, licking her lips as you set the plate down in front of her at the dining room table. Due to her exhaustion, she hadn’t even noticed her mistake of calling you ‘mum’ – however, it didn’t go unnoticed by Crosshair or yourself. You decided not to say anything, knowing it was just a simple mistake or slip of the tongue, but Crosshair glanced at you as he sat down next to her. His heart fluttered at the domestics of it all.

When Omega was finished eating her pancakes and Crosshair was finished drinking his caf, the two of them went off to do some meditating on the beach, leaving you to do general maintenance around the house. After roughly two hours, Crosshair came striding into the house and when you noticed Omega wasn’t with him you frowned. “Don’t tell me you were playing hide and seek and lost her again?”

Crosshair snorted and shook his head. “Hunter came to collect her from the beach.”

“How is he doing?” You asked as you finished placing the last pile of dirty laundry into the washing machine.

“Good,” Crosshair said, sitting down at the dining room table. He was quiet for a few minutes, simply watching you doing the most mundane tasks while looking so effortless when he finally spoke up. “This morning when Omega called you mum… How did that make you feel?”

You stopped in your tracks, thinking to yourself. How did it make you feel? You paused for a moment before speaking again, “it made me feel… warm and tingly inside.”

“Warm and tingly, huh?” Crosshair asked, a sly smirk on his face. He wasted no time in wrapping his arm around you and resting his prosthetic hand on your hip before planting wet kisses on your neck.

You let out a soft moan and nodded your head before tilting it to the side, giving Crosshair better access to the skin on your neck. “Yeah. Warm and tingly,” you repeated softly. “I never knew she thought of me as a mother-figure.”

“Well the kid can be surprising,” Crosshair mumbled against your neck before biting down softly on the flesh and sucking softly enough to leave a red mark.

“Has she ever said anything to you?” You ask, biting down on your bottom lip to suppress the moans threatening to spill. Crosshair shook his head in response, sucking on your neck again. Both his hand and his prosthetic flew under your shirt and to your chest, squeezing your breasts roughly. He didn’t know why, but the thought of Omega calling you her mum flipped a switch in him, releasing something primal inside that he never realised was there until the word left the little clone's mouth that morning. A soft gasp left your lips as Crosshair began to play with your puckering nipples, tugging at them earnestly. “Cross,” you mumbled softly under your breath.

“Yes mesh’la?” Crosshair asked, pulling away from his assault on your neck to look at you properly.

“Don’t tease me,” you begged silently.

Crosshair smirked at your words and slipped his hands from under your shirt, grabbing at your hand and leading you up the narrow staircase to your shared bedroom. You had already made-up the bed with a fresh set of linen after stripping it to put your other sheets in the washing machine and set up your aroma diffuser on your bedside table to freshen up the place. It’s a shame the sheets were about to become dirty again and for the room to smell like sex – but you didn’t care. Instead you giddily followed Crosshair into your bedroom and closed the door behind you with your foot. Reading your lover's mind, you both began to strip off within record time and soon you were wrapped in each other's embrace on the fresh bed sheets. Crosshair was behind you, spooning you as he spat on his hand and pumped himself, lubing up his cock before he positioned himself against your tight cunt. “Mesh’la, please–”

“Don’t ask, Crosshair,” you whimpered softly. A loud moan left your lips as he slowly pushed into you inch by inch, a moan of his own escaping his lips.

“Cyar’ika, you feel so good,” Crosshair huffs out, his hips slowly moving against yours. You loved it when he called you petname’s in Mando’a, it always set your heart ablaze. You let out a strangled moan at his words and moved your hips against his in the same rhythm, desperate to feel more of him. “Cyare,” he gasped out as your hips bucked against his own.

“Gods, Crosshair!” You exclaimed, already feeling your orgasm fast approaching. It was shameful, really, just how quickly Crosshair could make you come undone. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling your body even closer to his as his movements sped up. Crosshair couldn’t help but pound into you at a rougher pace, his cock twitching inside of you,

“Not going to last,” Crosshair grumbled against your throat, pressing soft kisses on your skin. “Cum for me baby, please.”

“Crosshair I’m cumming!” You call out, your body shaking with anticipation as your orgasm washed over you.

“Good,” Crosshair purred as his hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing delicately. Your airways were cut off slightly, and a gasp left your throat. Your pussy tightened around Crosshair’s cock, milking him dry. With a few more stutters of his hips, Crosshair was cuming shamelessly inside of you, a loud moan of your name leaving his lips. “Kriff, kandosiil’a.”

“Huh?” You asked, tilting your head at the unknown word.

“Amazing,” Crosshair explained.

“It was,” you chuckled softly.

Crosshair remained inside of you, his cock softening by the second. “Do you feel warm and tingly inside now?” He asked, chuckling softly.

“You could say that,” you replied with a smirk. “I certainly feel full.”

Crosshair chuckled again at your statement, a sense of pride filling every fibre of his being. “I would certainly hope so.”

“What got you so worked up anyway?” You asked Crosshair.

Sheepishly, he responded. “Omega, calling you mum this morning.” Your eyes widened at Crosshair's response and you felt that warm, tingly sensation return in the pit of your stomach.

“Really?”

Crosshair just nodded, his cock still sheathed inside of you. “Really.”

“If you’re going to fuck me like that every time Omega accidentally calls me mum, I might just get her to do it on purpose from now on,” you grinned cheekily, raising your eyebrow at him. Crosshair just scoffed and shook his head in faux disbelief.

“Be my riduur,” Crosshair whispered after a few minutes of silence. You looked at him over your shoulder, his arms still wrapped around your waist. When you didn’t respond, Crosshair spoke again. “Be my wife… Please.”

You quickly turned over, his cock slipping out from between your tight heat as you moved. “Do you mean that, Cross?”

“More than I’ve meant anything.”

“Then yes, I’ll be your riduur.”

You had no idea that Omega calling you mum would lead to a proposal, and when Crosshair was able to go out and buy you a ring to symbolise his love for you, he would – but for now, he just had to believe you when you said yes.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Wrecker:

Wrecker watched from close by as you and Omega played ‘Dekarik’ on the holotable located in Cid’s parlour. He drank the ale from his cup, smiling to himself as you sighed frustratedly and furrowed your eyebrows at the holotable in front of you. In a few moves, Omega had once again won leaving you feeling jokingly bitter. “How do you do it?” You groaned, rubbing your forehead.

“It’s a strategy game!” Omega replied. “I’m good at strategy. Besides, it’s easy when you put your mind to it.” Wrecker felt his heart swell at the interaction. He loved how close you had become with Omega since she had joined the squad a few months back. It was almost as if you had taken her under your wing, being the mother she so desperately needed. Wrecker felt his heart stop at the thought of you being her mother, the idea never crossed his mind before but now he couldn’t seem to get it out of his head. Apparently, Omega was thinking the same thing as she blurted out, “I can teach you how to play properly, mum.”

You froze in your seat the second the word ‘mum’ left Omega’s lips, and so did she. She was about to apologise when you put a hand up to silence her, a small smile on your mouth. “Don’t worry. Slip of the tongue.” Omega looked sheepishly at you before slinking off her seat and making her way over to Hunter on the opposite side of the parlour, no doubt to talk about her embarrassment. Wrecker hung back for a few minutes, studying your reaction as you watched the young clone walk away to her brother. He took a few deep breaths before walking over to you, sitting opposite from you on the holotable. “Hey,” you mumbled to Wrecker, avoiding his eye contact.

“Hey,” he replied, a smile on his face. “You okay?”

You nodded your head and bit your bottom lip. “Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?”

“I’m good,” Wrecker bites the inside of his cheek as he stares at you.

“What’re you looking at?” You mumble softly, finally meeting his gaze.

“Omega called you mum,” Wrecker smirked.

“She did,” you nod your head. “But she didn’t mean it.”

“But what if she did?” Wrecker asks you, his eyebrow raising. “What if she sees you as a mum?”

“So what if she does?” You asked. You didn’t mind if Omega saw you as her mother, if anything you found it to be quite endearing. “It wouldn’t matter. I’m not her mother anyway.”

“I know that,” Wrecker exclaimed, rolling his eyes with a goofy grin on his face. “I’m just saying, it’d be quite cute. Don’t you think so?” Wrecker was seemingly in thought after he spoke, gazing off into the distance as he watched Omega and Hunter talk. Suddenly, he stood up and held his hand out for you to take.

“Where are we going?” You took his hand willingly, cocking an eyebrow as he led you past his brothers and into the back room. Wrecker didn’t answer you, just pulled you into the room and closed the door behind you before turning back to you. “What is it?” You trailed your eyes down Wrecker’s large form until they stopped on his crotch – painfully hard and throbbing. Your eyes widened and your lips parted, clearly confused.

“The thought of the kid calling you mum,” Wrecker mumbled as he took a step towards you. His hands trembled as they reached out to cradle your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. “Did something to me.”

You bit your bottom lip as Wrecker pressed himself against you, a soft sigh leaving his lips. “What do you need, Wrecker?” You asked softly.

“You know what I need mesh’la.” A strangled sound leaves Wrecker’s lips as you slowly sink onto your knees before him. Immediately Wrecker began to remove his armour until he was just in his blacks, whimpering before you had even touched him at the way you were kneeling and looking up at him with wide doe eyes. As soon as his armour hit the floor you were pawing at his blacks, desperate to free his cock and feel it on your tongue. “Mesh’la,” Wrecker groaned the second his cock sprang free, bouncing up and down in front of your face. You were practically salivating at the sight. Without a second thought about who could walk in at any minute, you wrapped your lips around his cock earning a hiss from the clone towering above you. His hands instinctively made their way to your hair, gripping desperately as he pushed your face further into his crotch, forcing his cock further down your throat. You tried not to gag, you really did, but he was so large you couldn’t help it. Tears welled in your eyes as you tried to pull away for air, however Wrecker kept your mouth seated firmly around his throbbing cock. You whined quietly around him, sending vibrations up Wrecker’s body and a moan to fall from his lips. With a slack jaw, Wrecker finally released your hair and you were able to pull away for air, gasping softly. “Sorry,” he said, a faint blush on his cheeks.

“It’s okay,” you smiled sweetly, standing up and ridding yourself of your trousers. Wrecker’s eyes widened at the sight, his heart beating frantically in his chest. You bent over Cid’s makeshift bed, spreading your legs enough for Wrecker to see your tight cunt quivering around nothing. You were so desperate for him. “Wreck, please.”

“I’m coming,” he groaned, positioning himself between your legs. In one thrust, he fully sheathed himself into you, a growl bubbling up in his throat. He immediately began moving, his hips snapping against yours with ease. Your wet cunt easily gripped his cock like a vice as he moved. “Oh Gods,” he whimpered pathetically, his hands moving to your hips to bounce you on his cock as he moved. “You’re so tight.”

“Wrecker!” You gasped quietly, your eyes widening as Wrecker continued to move.

“What is it mesh’la?” Wrecker asked, biting his bottom.

“Gonna cum–”

“Cum for me sweet girl,” he whispered, the grip on your hips almost bruising. At his words you felt your orgasm wash over you and if it wasn’t for Wrecker wrapping an arm around your front, you would have toppled over at the sheer force. You squirted onto the floor, burying your face in Cid’s covers in an attempt to hide your shameless moans. At the feeling of your pussy clenching around him, Wrecker let out a loud moan of your name, his hips slamming into you ruthlessly.

“Kriff – I’m cumming,” he growled animalistically, it almost scared you. With one final, hard thrust into your sopping cunt Wrecker spilled himself deep into you.

Wrecker collapsed on top of you panting heavily, squashing your body uncomfortably between him and the edge of Cid’s bed. “Wrecker,” you squeaked out, catching the large clones’ attention.

“Sorry,” he gasped, clearly out of breath. “Are you okay?”

“I’m good,” you chuckled finally as Wrecker rolled off of you and fell onto the floor. “That really got to you, hm?” You asked after a few seconds, watching as Wrecker caught his breath and began to dress himself.

“I suppose it did,” he said sheepishly.

You shook your head and laughed. “Don’t worry big guy. There’s plenty more where that came from,” you winked his way and pulled up your trousers before walking out of the room and back into the parlour. The only person there was Cid, who was eyeing you cautiously.

“The other’s didn’t want tiny to hear your escapade so they took her out,” Cid said, rolling her eyes. “In my bed, really?” She hissed after a few moments, disbelief and disgust laced her voice.

“It was over your bed, not in your bed,” you corrected.

“That makes it much better,” Cid said sarcastically.

Just as you were about to open your mouth and say something else, Wrecker walked out, eyeing the parlour. “Where is everyone?”

“Out,” Cid snapped.

“They didn’t want Omega to hear us having sex so they took her out somewhere,” you explained to Wrecker before turning to Cid. “Any idea when they’ll be back?”

“Nope.”

Wrecker piped up with a cheeky grin, “round two?” which only caused you to roll your eyes and shake your head playfully.

“You’ll be the death of me, Wrecker.”

“At least you’ll die satisfied,” he replied enthusiastically, grabbing your arm and pulling you back into Cid’s back room. Hopefully by the time you were finished with the second round the others would be back and you could hop on a mission, but until then, you were going to enjoy every time that you had alone with Wrecker.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Echo:

“Omega, Y/N, Echo,” Hunter spoke softly, turning to the three of you. “You stay with the ship. We won’t be long.” You nodded your head in acknowledgement and sat in the pilot's chair, patiently waiting for the others to leave for their scouting mission.

After roughly an hour of no communication with the others, Omega began to worry. She was pacing up and down the cockpit desperately, fiddling with her fingers. “What if they don’t come back?” She asked, her eyes wide.

“They will come back, Omega,” Echo sighed, running his hand down the side of his face. He understood her concern, but wished she didn’t worry as much as she did.

“Mum, what if they don’t come back?” Omega asked, turning to you. Her eyes were wide with tears and she was obviously too caught up in her own worry to even think about the fact that she had called you mum.

You blinked at her repeatedly, not sure whether to mention it. Eventually you decided not to, and instead just humour her. “They will come back, Omega, just like Echo said,” you smiled at her softly.

Low and behold, they did come back, eventually anyway and with extra supplies too. “I thought this was supposed to be a scouting mission?” Echo asked, tilting his head to the side as Wrecker brought the supplies on board the ship.

“It was until Wrecker got hungry,” Hunter scoffed. “Then it turned into a supply run.”

“Tch, typical,” Echo sighed, shaking his head. Although, he couldn’t say he wasn’t pleased about the extra rations. Tech set off the ship, setting a course back for Ord Mantell while the rest settled into some of the new rations. Echo was staring at you from across the room, his astute ears having heard the way Omega had accidentally called you ‘mum’ earlier on. He couldn’t deny that the words had sent his mind reeling. He had bitten his tongue from mentioning anything but now the two of you were alone, he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “So… Mum, eh?”

“Huh?” You asked, looking up at Echo. He was already walking slowly across to your position, his arm and scomp wrapped around his chest.

“Omega… Calling you mum,” He said softly, sitting down opposite you. You and Echo had been dancing around your feelings for one another for the longest time, but the fact Omega had called you her mum had stirred something up inside of Echo. “It was sweet.”

“It was, wasn’t it,” you smile up at Echo as he stands in front of you.

“It was,” he mumbles, looking off to the side. “Look, Y/N…”

Echo trails off and this confused you. “What is it?” You ask tilting your head to the side.

“I can’t deny it anymore. I–I’m in love with you. Irrevocably, completely in love with you.”

Your eyes widened at his admission of love for you, completely taken back. “What?” You asked, your eyebrows raised.

“You heard me Y/N. I’m in love with you. And I can’t hold it back anymore.” He held his hand out for you to take. You didn’t even hesitate to take it before wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I never thought I’d hear you say those words to me,” you mumbled against his chest. “Never in a million years did I think you would love me.”

Echo pulled back from you just enough to look down on you. “What do you mean?” He asked, his voice low.

“I just meant – like, look at me,” you pull away and motion down to your body. “I’m nothing special.”

“You are very special, Y/N, especially to me,” he cupped your face in his hands and smiled at you gently. “And you’re beautiful. Never let anybody or anything tell you otherwise.” You smiled at Echo softly, your eyes welling up with tears as he plucked a stray piece of hair behind your ears. Echo had always looked at you as if you had hung the stars from the sky yourself with your bare hands. “May I kiss you?” He asked, leaning in closer to your face. Your throat was so dry, you couldn’t respond with words, so instead you just nodded your head desperately. Before you could even comprehend what in the kriff was going on, Echo had his lips against yours softly and tenderly. It was strangely intimate. Echo’s hands slip down to your waist, gripping ever-so-slightly at the fabric around your hips. He deepened the kiss by slipping his tongue against your lips, desperate to taste the inside of your mouth. With a soft moan, you let him enter, opening your mouth to the force of him greedily pushing his tongue inside. You stifled another moan, your eyes fluttering closed as you wrapped your arms tighter around his waist. “Oh Gods, Y/N,” Echo grumbled against your lips. His nails dug further into the fabric around your hips, pulling you flush against his body. “I–I need you. Now.”

“What do you mean?” You asked, but Echo didn’t answer with words. Instead he picked you up bridal style and carried you to his bunk a few feet away. You let out a slight squeak in protest as he picked you up, but the second you were laid down on his bunk, you wished to be back in his embrace. The clone climbed on top of you, his hands greedily roaming around your body, almost as if he was trying to map out the entire layout of your body underneath him. His hands pulled your shirt up to your chest, exposing your breasts. Shakily, Echo brought his lips up to your nipple, flicking his tongue against the sensitive bud to test the waters. When another soft moan left your lips, Echo’s confidence grew and he found himself mouthing both of your breasts. When he wasn’t sucking one, he was fondling it with his free hand as his scomp desperately tried to pull your trousers down. He was failing miserably, however. “Need some help?” You asked, a cheeky grin on your face. Echo pulled away from your breast and looked up at you, nodding his head before turning back to sucking and biting gently at your nipple. You pushed Echo off to the side, although his mouth was still attached to you, and pulled down your trousers and underwear until you were completely bare to him.

“Cyar’ika,” Echo whispered softly as he pulled away to look at you. He sounded almost breathless as he stared down at you. “You are so… Mesh’la.” He was too stunned for words. His hands trailed down your body, stopping between your legs and slipping a finger up your slick folds. The clone next to you let out a shaky breath as he dipped a finger inside your tight heat, your cunt sucking his finger in almost greedily. “Kriff.”

“Please Echo,” you begged softly. “Please, I want you so badly.”

“You’ll have me cyar’ika. Just let me…” He trailed off his voice, his finger pumping in and out of you at a languid pace. Soft moans left your lips as you spread your legs wider, giving Echo better access to that sweet spot inside of you. Echo groaned as he felt your walls tighten around him and without any warning, pulled out of you completely. You whimpered at the loss of contact, but quickly gasped when he began to remove his armour and blacks. This was really happening.

“Echo I’m begging you don’t tease me,” came your whimpering voice, so needy and desperate. Echo nodded his head and settled himself between your wide-spread legs, gawking at the wetness that coated your folds. He grasped the base of his cock as he slowly pushed himself inside of you, his eyes widening and head thrown back as he sheathed himself into you inch by inch.

“Oh mesh’la, you feel so kriffing good I can’t–” he stopped as he began to move his hips slowly, relishing in the feeling of your tightness wrapped around him. After a few seconds, Echo picked up memento, slamming into you at a slightly faster pace. “You’re – ah – clenching me so tightly.”

“S-Sorry,” came your voice, low and sheepish.

Echo shook his head in response, his lips attaching to your neck as he kissed down to your collarbone. “Don’t be sorry mesh’la, it feels so damn good.”

“Echo I’m going to cum,” you whimper out softly.

“Cum for me baby, cum for me and I’ll fill you up,” Echo growled softly. His voice was demanding and primal, and the coil in your stomach snapped at his words. Blinding white light filled your vision as you came, legs trembling around Echo’s waist. “Good girl,” he practically purred.

“Cum for Echo, please cum for me,” you begged.

Echo nodded his head, his movements speeding up in the process. He was so close, so unbelievably close he just needed something that would tip him over the edge and the second you wrapped your legs tighter around his waist, that did it. Echo was able to reach a new spot inside of you and it felt too good. The next thing you felt was Echo pumping deep inside of you, his cum spurting out of the tip. “Kriff, Y/N!” Echo called out, his body trembling from the intensity of his orgasm. His movements slowed down until he was at a complete stop, laying on top of you while panting heavily to catch his breath. “That was unbelievable,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head lovingly.

You nodded your head, smiling up at him with complete adoration in your eyes. “Did you mean it?” You asked, gazing at him.

Echo raised an eyebrow and looked at you. “Did I mean what?”

“That you love me? Do you love me, Echo?”

“More than anything,” came his reply. He bent down to press a soft kiss to your lips, a slow but passionate kiss. Different to any other you had experienced before. You felt your knees go weak from a mixture of your orgasm and the kiss, and kissed him back. “I love you, Y/N. From the moment I set eyes on you.”

“I love you too Echo,” you whisper softly, echoing the words back to him. The two of you lay there in silence for a while as Echo stroked your hair lovingly. Eventually, Echo let out a hearty laugh, looking down at you. “What?” You asked him, tilting your head.

“To think all of this happened because Omega called you mum.”

“I’m glad she did then,” you smirked at Echo, not even trying to hide your smugness at the current situation.

Echo wrapped his arm and scomp around you while nodding. “I’m glad she did too.”

“Hey, are you two finished there? Cid’s sending us on a new mission and we could really use your help!” Wrecker’s loud voice came from behind the door.

“We’re not finished yet!” Echo called back, rolling his eyes. You looked up at Echo with a raised eyebrow and he just shrugged before whispering to you, “just a few more minutes. I just want to hold you a little longer.” You couldn’t help the wide smile that span across your lips at his words.

“Well don’t be too long! I’m missing Y/N’s company,” Wrecker said through the door, clearly pouting. Then, you heard his footsteps fade away into the distance and you were finally alone with Echo once more.

“Sleep, mesh’la. I’ll wake you up when we get to the mission location,” he whispered, running his hand through your hair. You nodded your head and closed your eyes, and it wasn’t long before you were drifting off into the deep abyss of sleep, peacefully dreaming of all of the things to come.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Tech:

“Are you memorising the ship's manifest, Omega?” Tech asked, looking over his shoulder at the young clone besides him.

Omega nodded proudly to Tech, her eyes gleaming with hope. “Yeah, mum’s been helping me!”

“Mum?” Tech questioned, raising an eyebrow at her.

“I mean Y/N,” Omega said quickly, her cheeks turning a deep shade of red at her misslip. It was clear she was embarrassed, but rather than keeping his mouth shut Tech decided to make it so much worse.

“She is not your mother, Omega. She is more like a sister to you than a mother,” he explained, adjusting his orange goggles that were resting over his eyes.

“I know that, I’m not sure why I called her mum,” Omega mumbled softly, looking away from Tech’s scrutinising gaze.

“It would simply be a slip of the tongue,” it was Tech’s way of trying to make Omega feel better, but it wasn’t working.

Omega was about to speak when you stepped in. “Hey you two, been looking all over for you!” You exclaimed as you stepped into the cockpit.

“Well where else would we be other than the cockpit?” Tech asked, raising a quizzical eyebrow.

You rolled your eyes and huffed. “You could have been anywhere.” Omega continued to read the ship's manifest, trying her hardest to memorise everything, despite the overwhelming sense of dread and embarrassment that lingered in her gut. Her red face worried you and occasionally you glanced over at her to make sure that she was okay.

“I’m going to see Hunter,” Omega grumbled, standing up out of her chair without saying another word and leaving the cockpit.

“Where is Hunter?” Tech asked.

“He’s just outside.”

Tech simply nodded at your explanation and watched as you tinkered around. After a few moments of watching you, he finally asked. “What is it you are doing?”

“Just cleaning,” you reply, dusting off Tech’s workspace. He seemed confused, you had just cleaned the space the previous day, it didn’t need dusting again for at least another day or two. Tech continued watching you with a quirked eyebrow, watching intently as you reached high places to dust and picked up various knick knacks to dust too. He felt something well deep inside of him as Omega’s words echoed back in his mind, of her calling you mum.

Tech cleared his throat and sighed, adjusting his goggles once again. “You know, I often clean this place when I work on my projects. It does not need you to attend to it.”

You placed down your duster and looked towards Tech, a visible frown on your face. “It just… Makes me feel better knowing it’s been done properly.”

“You doubt my ability to clean?” Tech asked.

Your eyes widen and you shake your head. “No. Not like that! I just meant that, well I’m not sure what I meant actually.”

Tech couldn’t help but let out a small huff of a chuckle. He knew that you meant no offence, but still couldn’t help but feel as though you doubted his ability to clean. “Nevermind.” You looked somewhat embarrassed but quickly began your cleaning again before you had the chance to say something else to further your embarrassment. Tech continued to watch you and couldn’t help but admire the way your body moved and stretched when you tried to reach high places.

“What were you and Omega talking about before I came in?” You asked.

Tech adjusted his goggles once again before muttering, “nothing much. But, something peculiar did happen.”

“Oh yeah? What was that?” You asked.

“Omega called you mum,” Tech explained.

Your eyes widened and your lips parted. “She did what?”

“She called you mum,” Tech repeated, thinking you genuinely hadn’t heard him the first time. “I thought it rather funny, if I am being honest.”

“Why did she call me mum?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Tech tried to push the feelings down that were welling deep inside of him. Whatever they were, he couldn’t explain them. Once again, readjusting his goggles, Tech began to talk. “Well, we were talking about whether or not she had been memorising the manifest. She had explained to me that she had and she said, and I quote, ‘mum’s been helping me’ referring to you.”

“Oh,” you whisper, feeling quite overwhelmed. You felt your heart flutter at the comment, and couldn’t help but smile.

“I found it rather odd, but at the same I can understand why.” Tech offered you a small smile. “I feel as if Omega has become really attached to you.”

You nodded your head. “I think so too.”

“It is not a bad thing, if that is what you are thinking,” Tech said, but you quickly shook your head in disagreement. “I must admit, it gave me a peculiar feeling myself.”

“In what way?” You asked, tilting your head.

“It…” Tech took a deep breath and sighed. “It made my stomach flutter, amongst other things.”

“Other things?” You prodded.

“Yes.”

“Like what?”

“It does not matter,” he grumbled, feeling his cock twitch against his armour. Thoughts of you beneath him suddenly filled his mind and Tech’s eyes visibly widened in horror. He had never had an impure thought in his life, and suddenly at the thought of his sister calling you mum, he was struggling to compose himself and right in front of you too. Tech couldn’t help but suddenly notice how beautiful you were, his eyes roaming over your figure as you looked at him.

“Tech… Is everything okay?” You enquired.

Clearing his throat, Tech nodded. “Yes. Everything is just fine I…” He trailed off once more, feeling his cock twitch against his armour yet again.

“You?”

“I am just feeling a bit strange,” he tried to explain without giving away too much but you saw straight through him. Your eyes flickered down to his crotch, now exposed from his manspread position in the pilot's seat, his erection obvious against his now bulging armour.

A grin appeared on your face. “Really Tech? That does it for you?”

Tech looked down between his legs, his face heated up almost immediately. “I do not know what you are talking about.”

“Oh yeah? You have no idea?” You asked teasingly, your voice holding a rather smug tone. “Do you need some help, pretty boy?”

“W–What?” He managed to stammer out, choking on a bit of his spit.

“Do you want some help with that?” You repeated, motioning down to his erection. Tech fumbled over his words as you walked over to him and knelt down between his legs. With you looking up at him, his breath caught in his throat and his cock twitched yet again. When he didn’t protest, you began to remove his codpiece, allowing his cock to breathe slightly now that the plastoid was no longer pressing against him. “Tell me if you want me to stop.” He didn’t want you to stop, not at all but his words weren’t working so he simply shook his head. You grabbed the knife from his pocket and carefully slit his blacks around the hip before you ripped them open.

“My blacks!” He exclaimed, but you simply shushed him.

“You have more, Tech. Besides, if we’re going to do this you need to be quiet.” Your voice was like a command and it sent a jolt straight to Tech’s cock. He nodded his head again, a slight whimper left his lips as he watched you pull down your own trousers. You unhooked one leg from them, giving yourself easier access to move before spreading your legs. With wide eyes, Tech watched as you spat on your hand and rubbed it against the lips of your cunt, lubing yourself up.

“Oh Gods,” he moaned under his breath as you straddled him, the heat of your pussy rubbing up against the red head of his cock. Tech’s breath was shaky as you lowered yourself down onto him, adjusting to the new sensation of him seated inside of you. You began to move after a few seconds, bouncing slowly on Tech’s cock. Your cunt gripped him tightly, earning groans and moans from the smart clone below you. This just made you move faster, slamming down on him repeatedly forcing him to moan out your name. “Kriff, Y/N.”

“Mhm?” You asked softly, wiggling your hips from side-to-side.

“Feels so good,” came a strangled moan from his lips. Spurring you on even more, you let out a soft moan of your own as your hand made its way between your legs, rubbing at the sensitive bundle of nerves. You felt your orgasm approaching quickly, the thickness of Tech’s cock mixed with the sensations on your clit was pushing you to the edge.

“C–Can I cum?” You asked Tech, slightly breathless.

“Please,” he practically growled. You nodded your head erratically and rubbed your clit faster, pushing yourself to the brink of collapse. Tech’s hands fell to your hips, gripping them tightly as his own hips moved to meet your harsh movements. With a final bounce, you felt your walls contract around Tech’s cock, quivering above him. Your head rested on his left shoulder as you continued the same movements, but now languidly and Tech knew it was his turn to take over. His hand on your hips tightened as he pushed up against you, hitting that sensitive spot inside of you that had you seeing stars.

“Gods Tech, don’t stop!” You cried out.

“I do not plan on it, mesh’la,” he whispered as his hips smashed against yours desperately. He was so big, you felt as if he was going to split you open and your cunt was beginning to become sensitive with each harsh thrust Tech made. “I’m going to cum cyar’ika. Where do you want me?”

“Inside, please!” You begged. Tech’s eyes widened at your words, not expecting you to ask him to cum inside of you, but he couldn’t deny you. Not when you felt so good wrapped around him. He nodded and began to thrust up against you rapidly until he met his orgasm full force. Tech spilled his cum deep inside of you without a care in the world, his body shivering violently as you milked him dry.

“Kriff–” he groaned, rolling his eyes into the back of his head. “You’re so beautiful.”

You pulled away from Tech’s shoulder and smiled softly at him. “So are you.”

He let out a soft smile your way as he slipped his cock out of you. “Would you mind getting me a spare pair of blacks? Considering you ruined these ones.”

“Oops,” you replied cheekily, shrugging, but nodding your head. You put your leg back into your trouser hole and pulled them up your legs before leaving the cockpit to get Tech a spare pair of blacks. When you appeared again, Tech was looking slightly more presentable than he did when you left, albeit his softening cock was still on display. He took the blacks from your hand and nodded his head.

“Thank you.”

“Do you feel better?” You asked, watching closely as Tech dressed himself again and put his codpiece back into place. Tech nodded at you and sighed. He couldn’t help but feel slightly embarrassed that Omega calling you ‘mum’ had aroused him, but it had and there was no going back now. “Now if you don’t mind, I have to get back to cleaning the ship.”

“Understood,” Tech replied, watching as you continued your original position cleaning the cockpit. He smirked to himself before shaking his head. He had no idea what the future held for you, but he was excited to see where things went.

612 notes · View notes

jetii · 2 months ago

Text

Warm

Pairing: Echo x fem!Reader

Words: 10,262

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! friends with benefits to lovers, fluff, slight hurt/comfort, first date cuteness, accidental love confessions, smut, unprotected sex, p in v sex, oral (m recieving), fingering, dirty talk, creampie, inappropriate use of scomp, very loving soft sex actually

Summary: For the first time since the Republic fell, you and Echo find yourself on Pabu with nothing to do but relax, and you're determined to make the most of it. You just have to convince Echo.

A/N: I said this was pwp but I lied, the plot got me girl. This is some of the sweetest smut I have ever written. Echo deserves nothing less.

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

"What are you doing?"

You barely pause to look up as you shove another bottle of sunscreen in your bag, casting Echo a wry smile.

"We're going to the beach, so I'm making sure we're stocked up on sunscreen." You give the bottle in your hand a little shake, as if to illustrate your point. Echo's eyes flick down to it, then back to you, and he crosses his arms over his chest, shifting his weight and making the muscles there ripple distractingly. But you're not going to let him derail you.

"And... why are we going to the beach?" he asks, his tone bemused. You frown at him.

"We're supposed to be taking a break, right?" you ask. "And it's a beautiful day. I figured that we could enjoy it."

The two of you had arrived on Pabu last night, after what had seemed like the longest journey of your life. The moment you'd finally docked, you'd immediately felt the tension in your body start to bleed away, and it only took a few more minutes for Echo to follow suit, his shoulders relaxing and his expression going soft as the two of you walked down the streets toward where the rest of the Batch had made their home.

Now, the two of you are in the kitchen, with its cramped counters and low ceiling and ancient appliances, and for the first time in weeks, neither of you have anything to do. It's a strange feeling. You've been here for less than a day, but already you can feel the weight of all the work and stress and anxiety slowly lifting off your shoulders, leaving you feeling lighter than you have in weeks.

Echo, however, does not look particularly pleased at the prospect of having some time to himself. You know he'd rather be working, or training, or just about anything else, really. It's the exact opposite of what you're hoping for.

"Come on," you coax him, "don't you want to have a little fun? You deserve it."

He shifts uncomfortably, and you see him glance out the window toward the beach.

"I don't... think that's a good idea," he says, his voice hesitant. "It's— we're here because—"

"I know why we're here," you cut in. You set down the sunscreen, crossing your arms and leveling him with a look. "And I'm not asking you to swim, or even go near the water. Just sit in the sand, maybe enjoy the sun for a few minutes. I'm sure there's a place to get a decent cup of caf nearby, or maybe one of those little pastry things you like."

He's still looking skeptical, and you know you need to change tactics, so you step closer to him and slide your arms around his neck, tilting your head back and smiling at him coyly. His gaze drops down to your mouth, then flickers back up, and the corner of his lips tugs upward.

"I mean, if you're too scared to come outside with me..."

Echo scoffs, the sound almost offended. He pulls you close, his arms wrapping around your waist, and his voice is a low rumble in your ear.

"You really think that'll work on me?"

"No, not at all," you say with a smirk. You press a kiss to the spot just below his jaw, and he shivers, his fingers flexing against your back. "But I did just get a new swimsuit, and I thought maybe you'd want to see me in it."

The reaction is immediate. You feel Echo's whole body go rigid, his grip tightening around you, and you bite back a smile, trying not to laugh. You look up to see his ears are tinged red, and his eyes are fixed firmly on a point over your shoulder.

"Really?" he says, his voice strained, and you nod.

"Mhm."

You can see him considering it, and when you tilt your head a little more, leaning closer and making sure his attention stays fixed on you, you spot the exact moment his resistance breaks.

"I think you'll like it,” you continue. You're grinning now, knowing that you've already won. "But I guess if you're not interested, I can go to the beach by myself. I'm sure plenty of people will appreciate it."

You step away from him, already starting toward the bedroom the two of you had shared the night before. Before you can get more than a couple steps, though, Echo's arm shoots out, wrapping around your waist and hauling you back against him. You turn to find him smiling down at you, his eyes dancing with amusement, and he leans in, brushing his nose against yours.

"That's not going to happen," he murmurs. He leans in and kisses you, and for a moment, all the stress and tension seems to melt out of his body. He pulls away, pressing his forehead to yours and letting out a little sigh. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to get a little fresh air. But if I get sand in my joints, I'm not going to be happy."

You smile triumphantly and lean forward to peck him on the cheek.

"I'll make it up to you, I promise," you murmur, and his ears turn bright red. You grin and duck out of his grasp before he can reply, and Echo lets out a little huff as you head for the stairs, tossing a "get your sunscreen, you're going to burn!" over your shoulder.

When you return a few minutes later, your new swimsuit snugly in place under your clothes, Echo is standing in the doorway, and you stop, staring at him. He's wearing a pair of board shorts, a navy-blue color with a white stripe along each side. They fall a couple inches above his knees, and his broad chest is bare, his skin glowing in the sunlight. You've seen him shirtless plenty of times, but there's something about him wearing these casual clothes, something about the way he looks, relaxed and at ease and not quite as tense, that makes your heart do a funny little flip in your chest.

"Is this okay?" he asks, and you realize you've been staring at him. He has a button down shirt in his hand in an obnoxious floral pattern, one you know he got from one of the boys as a joke. You hadn't expected him to actually wear it, but it makes you smile to think that he's actually embracing the beach-vacation vibe.

"You look good," you say, and your voice comes out a little bit breathy. You clear your throat and try again. "I mean, it's fine. You look fine. Great. I'm—we should go."

You can't read the expression on his face, but his lips are twitching as he tugs the shirt on over his shoulders, and you grab the bag of supplies before turning toward the door.

"Come on," you say, jerking your head for him to follow. "Let's get out of here."

He follows you out, and you can feel his eyes on you the entire time, his gaze lingering on the skin that's visible between the bottom of your cropped shirt and the top of your shorts. When you catch his eye, he grins, not even trying to hide the fact that he's ogling you.

"Shut up," you mutter, but he only grins wider.

The two of you have never done anything like this before. There'd been a couple nights, during the brief respites the two of you had gotten on different missions, where you'd both gone out and had a little fun, but that had always ended the same way, with you heading back to one of your rooms or to a secluded corner and spending the rest of the night wrapped up in each other.

But this, the two of you wandering down the streets together, stopping at a café to get something to eat, laughing and joking together like a real couple... it's nice. Really nice.

You can feel Echo relaxing the longer the two of you walk, and he doesn't hesitate before ordering a caff for the two of you, getting yours the way you like it without having to ask. He holds the door open for you and pays for both of your meals, and by the time the two of you are walking down the beach toward the spot you'd had in mind, his arm slung over your shoulders, you're practically beaming.

The spot is far enough away from the main strip of shops and restaurants to avoid most of the foot traffic, but not so far away that the two of you will have to walk for miles to get back. It's quiet, with most people including the rest of the Batch at work or school or who knows where, and the sound of the waves is soothing.

Still, Echo stays close, his arm hovering near you as if he expects you to suddenly collapse, and he tenses a little whenever someone passes. When the two of you finally reach your spot, he pulls away, turning his back to you while you lay out the blanket.

"Checking for traps?" you ask dryly, and he shrugs, not looking at you.

"Or enemies," he says, and you roll your eyes.

"Yeah, right."

"Just because we haven't seen any doesn't mean they're not out there," he argues, and you can tell he's about to launch into a full-blown speech, so you reach out and wrap your hand around his wrist, tugging him down to the blanket.

"We're fine," you say. "Really. It's the middle of the day, and I don't think any undercover Imperials are going to try and jump us in the middle of a public beach."

"You never know," he says, and the look on his face tells you he's completely serious. "It wouldn't be the first time."

You roll your eyes and settle down on the blanket, propping yourself up on your elbows.

"Well, I'm sure I'll be safe with a big, strong ARC trooper protecting me," you tease, and his expression turns sour. You wink, and his scowl deepens.

"Ha ha," he says, not looking amused.

"I'm kidding," you say, nudging him with your shoulder. You tilt your head, and Echo's eyes are drawn to the long line of your neck. "Let's just... try and forget about that, okay? Let's pretend, for just a little while, that we're normal. We're just a normal couple, and we're having a normal date. Okay?"

He's still frowning, his brow furrowed, but after a moment, he sighs, his shoulders slumping a little.

"Okay," he mutters. "I can do that."

You smile, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek, and Echo turns, his mouth finding yours. His hand comes up, his thumb brushing across your cheek, and he pulls you closer, kissing you softly.

You let yourself sink into it, the sound of the ocean and the feeling of the sun on your skin making everything feel a little bit like a dream.

When you break apart, he's smiling, and some of the tension has finally melted from his body.

"So," you say, grinning, "what do you think? About this normal-couple-on-a-date thing?"

"I think... I could get used to it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He smiles at you, his eyes crinkling a little at the corners, and the sight of him, relaxed and smiling and looking happier than you've seen him in weeks, sends a flood of warmth through your chest. "It's kind of nice, actually."

"Good," you say. "Now take off your shirt. You're going to need a little sunscreen."

Echo's eyebrows lift. “What?”

"Come on," you wheedle, shaking the bottle at him. "Don't worry, I'll help."

"That's not—" he begins, but he doesn't seem to be able to find the words to finish. Finally, he sighs and shrugs out of his shirt, folding it and placing it on the blanket. Before he can say anything else, you move behind him, squeezing a generous amount of the lotion into your hands and rubbing them together.

"I'm going to start with your back," you tell him. You smooth your hands over his shoulders, feeling the soft skin beneath your palms, and his muscles flex beneath your touch. You move your hands over his broad back, covering every inch of exposed skin, and Echo groans as you hit a knot just below his shoulder blade.

"Right there?"

"Yeah," he says. He's practically melting under your touch, and you keep working, kneading your thumbs into the spot. "Force, that feels good."

You don't answer, focusing instead on getting the last bit of sunscreen in his skin. After a moment, he seems to gather himself, and you see him glance at the bottle, his brow furrowing.

"Why do I need sunscreen?" he asks.

"To keep you from burning."

He looks confused.

"You have sensitive skin, remember? And we've been traveling a lot lately, which means you haven't gotten much time in the sun. You don't want to burn."

Echo opens his mouth to respond, but you’re already climbing into his lap, your hands skimming over his shoulders.

"I should get your front, too," you murmur, and his eyes darken. His hand finds your hip, his scomp skimming up your back, and he's looking up at you, his expression open and vulnerable. You can feel the warmth of him through your clothes, and a familiar heat starts to coil in your stomach.

"You're distracting me," he mutters, his gaze flickering down to your lips.

"Is it working?"

"Yes."

You smirk and lean in, brushing a kiss against his mouth before smearing a line of sunscreen down the bridge of his nose. He yel and you pull back, laughing as his face scrunches up in distaste.

"What—"

"That's what you get," you say, grinning. "Come on, let's get the rest of you covered."

Echo grumbles a little but settles back against the blanket. You're thorough, taking care to spread the lotion across his arms and legs, over his broad chest, and down the smooth planes of his stomach. He's warm and pliant under your touch, letting out little noises of contentment whenever you find a particularly tight spot. By the time you've covered the last inch of skin, he looks thoroughly relaxed.

"There," you say, smiling at him. You run your hand down his side, and Echo shudders. "All done."

"Thanks," he says. He opens his eyes, squinting against the sunlight, and frowns. You’re already standing up, dusting sand off your legs, and you see him tense.

"Wait, what are you doing?"

You pause, your hands on the hem of your shirt.

"What does it look like I’m doing?”

He pushes himself up onto his elbows.

"It looks like you're taking off your clothes."

"I am."

You strip off your shirt, and you toss it over his head, smiling as he pulls it away. He freezes, staring at the scrap of fabric in his hand, and his eyes drop to your chest.

"This is..."

"I told you I had a new swimsuit," you remind him as you drop your shorts and step out of them, "and now you get to see it."

He looks like his brain is short circuiting, and his gaze rakes across your body, taking in every inch of exposed skin and the tiny bits of fabric covering the parts that aren't. You grin and turn around, slowly bending over to pick up the discarded shorts. You look back over your shoulder and his eyes are wide, and he swallows hard, his mouth suddenly dry.

"See something you like?"

"Uh huh," he says faintly. He licks his lips and tries to drag his eyes up, but they're fixed firmly on the swell of your ass, the way the fabric hugs the curve of it and leaves the skin exposed. His mouth opens, and you know he's trying to find the words, but instead, all that comes out is a faint croak.

"Good," you say. "I'm glad."

You grab the bottle of sunscreen and settle down on the blanket.

"I'm going to need a little help, though," you say. "I can't get my back."

You tilt your head back and Echo nods, the motion slow and almost hypnotized. He stands, crossing the blanket and kneeling down behind you. He waits for you to dispense some into his hand, and his fingers trail across the nape of your neck as he smooths the lotion over your skin. His touch is warm, and gentle, and the feeling sends a pleasant shiver down your spine.

It’s rare for the two of you to have this much time alone together, and you can't help but let yourself enjoy it, leaning into his touch. You're not even trying to tease him, but his breath still catches every time his hands sweep lower, his fingers tracing along the waistband of your swimsuit. He takes his time, making sure that not a single inch of skin is left uncovered, and by the time he's done, the tension between the two of you is practically crackling.

He sits back, his hand still lingering on the small of your back, and the two of you are quiet. He's staring at you, and there's something different about the way he's looking at you, something almost... reverent.

You've always known he wants you, have been able to read it on his face and in his touch, but this, the way he's staring at you now, is more than that. It's desire, yes, but there's something deeper, something softer and sweeter, and it makes your heart flutter in your chest.

The two of you haven't done anything like this before. Even your previous trysts had been frantic and rushed, a matter of stolen moments in darkened rooms and shadowy corners. But here, the two of you are exposed, out in the open where anyone could see, and yet the thought doesn't fill you with dread or worry. It's thrilling, in a way, and the fact that Echo doesn't seem to care either way just adds to it.

But despite that, neither of you make a move. You sit there, both of you watching each other, and you know that if you gave the slightest indication, he'd pounce, and the two of you would be wrapped up in each other, just like all those times before. But for the first time, you don't want that. You want him to stay just like this, watching you, and for you to watch him in turn.

So, instead, you reach out and brush your thumb over his bottom lip, and he sighs, his eyelids fluttering closed. He's warm under your touch, his lips slightly chapped from the wind, and he leans into you, pressing a kiss to your palm. His scomp skims up your back, the metal warm from the sun, and he pulls you close.

You press yourself against his chest, tucking your head into the space between his neck and shoulder, and his arm comes around to wrap around your waist, holding you there.

It's peaceful, the two of you sitting together like that. It feels normal, and right, and the feeling that settles over you is warm and comfortable, like being wrapped up in a blanket. It's perfect, and you never want it to end.

But, like all good things, it eventually has to, and Echo's comm chirps. The noise seems to echo across the sand, shattering the fragile bubble of peace the two of you have found. He pulls away, digging through the pockets of his shorts, and he swears under his breath.

“Rex,” he says as he holds up the comm. You nod, and he activates it, and the captain's voice crackles through.

"Echo, I just sent over some new intel. Can you check it out? It might be a lead on the ship."

"Yeah, of course," Echo replies, though his tone is a little hesitant. He glances over at you, his brows drawing together, and you force a smile, ignoring the way your heart has plummeted into the pit of your stomach.

"Duty calls," you say, trying for levity.

Echo hesitates, glancing at the comm and back at you, and he lets out a sigh.

“Everything okay?” Rex asks.

Echo doesn't answer, not looking away from you. You give him a reassuring smile, and his expression clears, his mouth twitching a little as if he's thinking.

"Everything's fine," he says finally. “I'm a little busy right now, but I'll look over the intel and get back to you later."

There’s a moment of silence, and you hold your breath, wondering if Rex will call him out. But instead, he laughs.

"Busy, huh?"

Echo rolls his eyes.

"Yeah," he says. He shifts, pulling you closer, and he presses a kiss to the top of your head. "Something like that."

"All right, fine," Rex says, and he sounds amused. "Glad you’re enjoying your vacation."

"I'm— yeah. Thanks, Rex."

"Bye, Rex," you add, leaning closer and raising your voice a little. Echo smirks, and he cuts the transmission.

"So," you say, "you're just going to ignore the fact that we got called in for work, huh?"

"No," Echo replies, looking defensive. He sets the comm aside, reaching out to take your hand. "We're on a break. They can handle things without us for a day or two."

You smile at him, and he brushes his thumb over your knuckles, his eyes soft.

"Who are you and what have you done with Echo?" you tease. You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head, but when Echo's grip on your hand tightens, you freeze, a jolt running down your spine.

He scowls, his mouth twisting, and his eyes flicker away from you, looking out across the water. His hand falls away from yours, and his shoulders slump, the easy happiness that had surrounded him moments ago bleeding away.

"Don't say that," he mutters.

"What? Why not?"

"I just..."

He looks frustrated, and a little lost, and you wait, giving him time to find the words. His mouth is open, but he closes it, letting out a harsh sigh through his nose. His brow furrows, and he stares down at his lap, his jaw clenched tight.

"I'm sorry," you murmur, your hand finding his. "I didn't mean it like that."

"No, I—" he stops, closing his eyes. "I know."

He takes a deep breath, his hand turning to lace his fingers through yours.

"I'm tired," he says finally, his voice small. "I'm tired of... not getting to be with you, because we're always running, or on a mission, or just never in the same place. We never get a chance to be alone, and it's..."

His brow furrows, and his lips press together, as if he's frustrated.

"It's not enough," he says, and there's a note of finality to it, like the decision has been made. "And I'm done with it. So unless the galaxy is literally ending, I'm not leaving until we've had a chance to enjoy ourselves a little."

"And what if the galaxy is ending?"

"Then I'm sure Rex and the rest of the boys will take care of it," Echo says. He grins at you, looking proud of himself, and you laugh, shaking your head. "Until then, I'm staying here with you. And," he adds, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the side of your jaw, "you can distract me from thinking about work, if you want."

You lean into him, letting him press another kiss to your neck.

"Hmm," you murmur, pretending to think. "I guess I could do that. After all, we are supposed to be on a date."

"Exactly," he says. He smiles against your skin, and the feeling makes you shiver. "Come on, we can't let the day go to waste."

"I mean, there is one thing we can do," you say, grinning mischievously.

Echo's eyes darken, and his voice is a low rumble.

"What's that?"

You smile and stand, reaching down and tugging him up.

"Swim!"

He groans, and you laugh, ducking out of his grasp and darting for the waves. He's faster, though, and he catches you easily, his arms wrapping around your waist as he lifts you off the ground.

"Echo!" you yelp. You can hear the waves lapping against the shore, and you struggle in his grip. "Don't you dare! Don't you—"

"Sorry," he says, not sounding the least bit apologetic, and you shriek as he tosses you into the surf. You land with a splash, the cool water enveloping you, and you break the surface, pushing the wet strands of hair out of your face.

Echo is watching you, looking smug, and you glare at him.

"What's the matter?" he asks, feigning innocence. "Not having fun?"

You splutter a little, wiping the water from your eyes, and you launch yourself at him. You can't actually pick him up, and he doesn't fall, but the move does throw him off balance, and he stumbles backward, almost falling into the water. You laugh and try to shove him again, but his arm comes around your waist, holding you steady.

"Is that how it's going to be?"

You grin, and the two of you wrestle, the sounds of your laughter carrying over the waves.

"Oh, no, please!" Echo yelps. He tries to fend you off, and you laugh, ducking around his arms and splashing water up at him. "Mercy!"

"Never," you declare. You grab his shoulders, and he lets you push him under the waves. He comes up sputtering, and his arm comes around your waist, dragging you down with him.

You both surface, and Echo is laughing, the sound loud and free and happier than you've ever heard him. It sends a surge of warmth through your chest, and before you can stop yourself, you're leaning in and kissing him.

Echo kisses you back, his hands finding your waist. He's warm against you, even with the cool water lapping around your bodies, and his lips are soft and gentle. It's the opposite of the way you usually kiss him, all tongue and teeth and bruising hands, and it makes your chest ache, makes the longing that's always present whenever he's around swell a little bigger.

He must feel it too, because his grip on you tightens, and he hauls you closer, the two of you clinging to each other like your life depends on it.

When you break apart, he doesn't let go, and neither do you. The two of you stand there for a long time, breathing in sync, and for a moment, everything seems to slow. There's no war, no missions, no responsibilities or tasks. There's just you and him and the feeling of the ocean around you, the two of you pressed so close together it's hard to tell where one of you ends and the other begins.

“So,” he starts, his forehead pressing against yours. “What else do normal couples do on dates, anyway?"

You grin and step back, taking his hand.

"Come on, I'll show you."

And you do. The two of you spend the afternoon walking along the beach, collecting shells and talking, and occasionally, the two of you find yourselves making out like a couple of teenagers, hands roaming over each other and mouths moving frantically together. It's not until the sun is beginning to set that the two of you finally wander back up the hill to the house, and by the time you're back in the kitchen, Echo has you pinned against the counter, his mouth hot and demanding against yours.

"We're supposed to be getting ready for dinner," you mumble, even as you tilt your head, giving him better access to your neck.

"Fuck dinner," Echo growls. He nips at the skin just below your ear, and you moan, your nails digging into his shoulders. "I need you."

You're both still wet from the water, and you can feel him, hot and hard and pressing insistently against your hip. Your own desire surges, and suddenly the thought of a crowded restaurant or a stuffy dining room is the last thing you want.

"I've got a better idea," you murmur, and he groans against your neck.

"Tell me," he breathes, and the feeling of his breath against your skin makes you shiver.

"Shower," you manage. The word has barely left your lips before he's pulling away, tugging you after him as he heads for the stairs.

The two of you don't make it far, and neither of you seems to care. As soon as the door to the bedroom is closed behind him, he's crowding you up against it, his hands sliding under your shirt and his mouth hot on yours. You can feel him, hard and insistent against you, and he groans, grinding his hips against you.

"Gods, I missed this," he pants. He nips at your ear, his teeth scraping across the skin. "Missed you. Missed touching you and kissing you and—"

"Shower," you repeat, gasping as he bites down on your shoulder. "Now.”

"Whatever you want," he mumbles.

He pulls back, and the two of you race down the hall, stripping out of your clothes as you go. He's in the fresher before you, the water already on, and by the time you step in behind him, he's got his back pressed to the tile, his cock hard and heavy between his legs.

You step inside, the water cascading down around the two of you, and Echo's gaze drops, raking over your body. You can see him, taking in the way the water streams over your skin, and the way his eyes darken sends a thrill through you.

You don't bother teasing him. Instead, you push him up against the wall, dropping to your knees and pressing a line of kisses down his stomach. His hand drops to your hair, tangling in the wet strands, and he lets out a choked moan.

"This is a date, right?" you ask, smiling innocently up at him. He nods, his gaze fixed firmly on you, and his grip on your hair tightens. "Good. I've always wanted to give someone a blowjob on a first date."

"Oh, fuck," he moans, and his head thumps back against the wall.

You take him into your mouth, and his fingers tighten in your hair. You look up at him, watching as his expression twists, his brow furrowing and his jaw clenching, and the sight sends a thrill through you.

Echo isn't big on talking during sex. Most of the time, it's just groans and whines, with the occasional curse or muttered endearment. But now, his words seem to be spilling from his lips, the filthiest things you've ever heard pouring out as you suck and lick and take him deeper into your mouth.

"Yes, just like that," he groans, his hips jerking a little. His scomp slides up the wall, searching for purchase, and the sound of the metal scraping against the tile sends a rush of heat through you. "Your mouth is so good, sweetheart. So perfect. Fuck, I can't wait to get inside you."

His fingers are tangled in your hair, not pulling or tugging, just holding you in place. You're practically dripping, and you can feel your cunt clench, the ache in your core growing with every filthy thing that falls from his lips.

"Look at you," he mutters, his voice ragged. His eyes are fixed on the spot where his cock disappears into your mouth, and you hum, the vibrations making him shiver. "Gorgeous. Look so good on your knees for me."

You keep going, working him over until his voice is cracking, his words dissolving into incoherent moans and gasps.

"Fuck," he hisses, his hips stuttering a little. He's close, you can tell, his muscles trembling and his breathing ragged. "Stop. Need— want to—"

He tugs at your hair, trying to pull you off, and you ignore him, keeping up the pace. His words dissolve into a string of curses, and you look up at him, blinking innocently and hollowing your cheeks.

That's all it takes.

"Shit," he manages. "I'm— I'm gonna—"

His cock twitches, and his eyes squeeze shut, his face twisting as he comes, his mouth falling open. He shudders, and you swallow, keeping your eyes on him as his chest heaves, his muscles quivering.

You keep going until he's trembling, his hand pushing weakly at your head, and you let him slide from your lips, sitting back on your heels and grinning up at him. He's slumped against the wall, looking absolutely wrecked, and you smirk, reaching for the bottle of shampoo and standing up.

"Feel good?" you ask, and he nods, his eyes glazed and his lips parted.

"So good," he mumbles. "Need a minute."

"Take your time," you say, stepping around him and putting a generous amount of shampoo in your hands. You work it into your hair, feeling him watching you, and you smile to yourself, humming as you wash the salt from your skin.

"You're evil," he murmurs. He presses up behind you, his mouth dropping to the side of your neck.

"I think the term you're looking for is generous," you tease.

"That, too."

He kisses the spot just below your ear, his teeth grazing against the skin. His hand finds your waist, and his scomp slides up your arm, tugging your hand away from your hair.

"Let me," he murmurs, and you nod. He gently works the suds out, his hand running through your hair and sending pleasant shivers down your spine. His scomp slides down, brushing over the side of your breast, and his other hand joins, the water raining down on the two of you.

"You're beautiful," he says, and you turn your head, looking back at him. He's watching you, his expression open and unguarded, and there's a look in his eyes that makes your breath catch in your throat. "I'm so lucky."

"Echo," you start, but the words die on your lips as his scomp skims lower, brushing against your hip and slipping between your legs. The tip finds your clit, and you gasp, arching back against him.

"So beautiful," he repeats. He rubs tight circles over your clit, his scomp moving slowly, almost lazily, and you lean back, resting your head on his shoulder. His arm comes around your waist, and his hand slides up to cup your breast, his thumb rubbing against the nipple. "You're amazing, sweetheart. I love watching you."

You moan and turn your head to press your mouth against his. He kisses you, his hand cupping your jaw, and you gasp as his scomp moves a little faster.

"I love the noises you make," he murmurs. He nips at the corner of your jaw, his tongue darting out to soothe the sting. "Love the way you taste, the way you feel."

He's everywhere, his lips pressing against the side of your neck, his hand sliding down your stomach and between your legs, his fingers brushing against where you're aching for him. He presses them into you, and his thumb replaces his scomp, the tip tracing patterns over your thigh as his fingers curl, finding that spot inside of you that makes you shudder.

"Echo," you gasp, the sound practically a sob. You reach back, grabbing onto his neck, and he hums, his arm tightening around you.

"I love being inside you," he says, and his voice is ragged, the sound sending a pulse of heat through you. His cock is hard again, pressing insistently against your ass, and his hips grind forward, the feeling of his body against yours sending a rush of warmth through you.

"Want that," you gasp. "Want you."

"You have me," he murmurs. He adds a third finger, and you whine, your nails digging into his neck.

"Not enough."

He grins against your skin, and the motion makes something inside you snap. You're suddenly desperate for him, for the feeling of him filling you up and driving away the ache that's been building for weeks. You try and turn, but his arm keeps you in place, and he chuckles, his thumb moving a little faster.

"Wait," he says.

"Echo, please," you beg, and he groans, his teeth grazing over your skin.

"Patience," he murmurs. "You can wait a little longer."

He presses his lips to the side of your neck, and his fingers work, curling and thrusting and making your whole body go tight. His arm is solid around you, holding you in place, and the thought of him, surrounding you, pinning you to the spot and taking what he wants, sends a rush of heat through you.

"Please," you whisper, and his fingers twist, his thumb moving faster. "I'm gonna—"

"Yeah," he breathes. "That's it. Come for me, sweetheart. Let me see you."

The sound of his voice, the feeling of his fingers moving inside you and his cock pressed against you is too much. You break, coming with a loud cry, and he keeps going, working you through it. Your body goes limp, and Echo holds you, keeping his fingers buried inside you and his scomp drawing tight circles over your clit. You whimper and try to push him away, the sensations too much, but he doesn't stop, not until a second wave hits and you're writhing, clinging to him for dear life.

By the time he finally pulls away, your legs are trembling, and you're panting, slumped against him and unable to do anything but whimper as he turns the water off and steps out of the shower.

You don't register him drying you off or lifting you and carrying you down the hall, and it's not until the door to the bedroom closes behind him that your brain finally clears enough to form coherent thoughts.

"Echo," you say.

He looks down at you, smiling softly, and he kisses you, the press of his lips warm and gentle. He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't need to. He lays you down on the bed, his eyes drinking in every inch of you, and it's so tender, so sweet that the emotion wells up, filling your chest until you're sure it will burst.

It's only been a few weeks, but it feels like a lifetime. The longing, the worry, the fear... it's been eating away at you, and being here with him, like this, makes the stress and anxiety from the past month melt away, leaving you feeling more at peace than you have in weeks.

He's always been the calm in the storm. You've lost track of the number of times you've lain awake at night, wondering if this was the last time, if this would be the one where something went wrong and neither of you came home. He's always been there, a solid presence, an unwavering support, and the thought of losing him is almost too much to bear.

But here, in this moment, there's nothing but the two of you. There's no war, or missions, or fighting or running. It's just the two of you, wrapped up in each other, safe and warm and together.

And in that moment, you're so happy, you think your heart might explode.

He lays down next to you, his hand finding your waist, and you kiss him, your hands cupping his jaw and stubble scraping across your palms. It's gentle and unhurried, the two of you taking the time to relearn each other. The feeling of his mouth against yours, his skin under your hands, his body pressed against you is almost overwhelming, and you find yourself clinging to him, holding him as close as you can and trying to commit the feeling to memory.

It's not until he rolls on top of you that the slow, lazy pace breaks.

You gasp, his mouth hot and demanding against yours, and his cock presses insistently against your thigh. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, and he groans, grinding his hips down.

"Want you," you manage. Your hands run over his back, sliding down and gripping his ass.

"You have me," he says, his voice rough. He kisses down your neck, nipping and biting at the soft skin.

"Inside," you gasp, and he moans, his mouth dropping lower, his lips moving over the swell of your breasts.

"Yeah," he breathes. "Yeah, I want that."

"Come on," you say, pushing at his shoulders. He sits up and kneels between your legs, and he reaches down, stroking his cock and giving it a firm squeeze. He looks massive from this angle, his broad chest and shoulders towering over you, and the sight makes something clench deep in your core.

"I don't want to rush," he murmurs, his gaze dropping to the apex of your thighs. "Want to take my time."

You sit up, and his hand finds your waist, pulling you forward and into his lap. Your arms wind around his neck, and his scomp slides up the length of your back, pressing you closer.

"We have time," you tell him, and his eyes are dark and soft and full of a tenderness that makes your heart flutter.

"Yeah," he says. "We do."

You press a kiss to his cheek, and his hand drops between the two of you, gripping his cock and lining it up with your entrance. His mouth finds yours as the thick head slides into you, and it's slow, so agonizingly slow, you're sure he's trying to drive you insane.

You don't remember him being this big.

You know that's ridiculous, that of course he's still the same size, but the thought has a whimper falling from your lips. You try and grind down, needing more, but his arm comes around, pinning you to his chest, and he shakes his head.

"You're killing me," you mutter, and his teeth flash in the fading sunlight, his eyes dancing.

"I can stop," he teases.

"Don't you dare," you say, and he chuckles, pressing another kiss to your lips.

He keeps going, the steady, agonizing pressure of his cock pushing inside making your whole body go tense. You can feel the way he's stretching you open, the way your body has to make room for him, and the thought makes your mind blank, the ache in your core growing.

By the time he's finally, finally all the way inside, the two of you are breathing heavily. He’s so deep, deeper than anyone else has ever been, and the stretch is just shy of painful. It makes your hips jerk a little, and Echo lets out a moan, his hand finding your hip and his fingers digging into the soft skin.

"You're perfect," he mumbles, and you laugh, the sound turning into a moan as he grinds his hips up, pushing a little deeper.

You cling to him, his arms coming around you and pulling you closer. His forehead drops to your shoulder, and you wrap your legs around his waist, letting him pull you closer, as close as possible. The two of you stay like that, holding each other and letting the sensation wash over you.

Eventually, the pressure becomes too much, and you start to squirm, shifting and rocking your hips. Echo takes the hint and starts to move, and the first slow, lazy thrust makes the both of you moan.

He starts a rhythm, and it's like the entire galaxy has narrowed down to just the two of you. Nothing else matters, just the feeling of his cock sliding into you, the warmth of his breath on your neck, the feeling of his heartbeat against your skin.

You know how much he loves being inside you. He's always told you, whispered it against the skin of your neck, moaned it in the dead of night, panted it while you rode him, the words falling from his lips like a prayer. He never seems to tire of it, always desperate to get as deep as possible, and sometimes, you've wondered if there's a part of him that's afraid this will be the last time.

But he's never done it like this.

He's never held you in his arms and pressed kisses to your skin, his hand and scomp running reverently over every inch of your body. He's never taken his time, his hips rocking forward in a steady, measured rhythm, his mouth finding yours again and again. He's never let himself drown in the feeling of it, his eyes half-closed and his face twisted in an expression of pure bliss.

He's never made love to you before.

You've never put a name to it, the way the two of you are together. You've always been careful not to call it anything, knowing that doing so would cross a line neither of you wanted to. It's dangerous, the sort of thing that can break hearts and destroy lives, and you'd both known it. So you'd never said it, never acknowledged it, and had kept it to yourselves, locked away where no one else could ever see.

But now, with his arms wrapped around you, his touch tender and his mouth soft against yours, there's no other word for it. It's the only explanation for the feeling, the one that's welling up inside of you and threatening to swallow you whole, and the realization sends a thrill through you, settling in the pit of your stomach and burning like a sun.

He's making love to you.

You hold him closer, your hand gripping the back of his neck, and his lips find yours, warm and soft. He doesn't say anything, his gaze fixed firmly on your face, and his brow is furrowed, his jaw clenched and his eyes burning.

"So beautiful," he mumbles. His hand runs over your waist, squeezing lightly, and he lets out a shaky breath. "I love this. Love you."

Your breath catches, and for a second, it feels like the world stops. The only sound is his breathing, the only feeling is his hand on your skin, and the only thing that exists is him.

"Echo," you whisper, and his name is a question, the only thing you can manage.

He doesn't seem to hear you, or maybe he doesn't understand.

"Love seeing you like this," he mumbles, his gaze flitting over your face. "Love touching you, love being with you. I don't—"

He breaks off, and his head drops, his nose brushing against your jaw. His breathing is ragged, and his grip on you tightens, and something tells you he didn't mean to say that, didn't mean for those words to fall from his lips.

His hips slow, and he holds you closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck and taking a deep, shuddering breath. You can feel him, his entire body trembling, and you pull him closer, your fingers cradling the back of his head and holding him against you.

"It's okay," you say softly, pressing a kiss to his temple.

His scomp skims down your back, the metal still warm from the sun and the warm water. It's a tender gesture, and the fact that he's using it to hold you, instead of his hand, is a testament to how far the two of you have come.

"I love this," he murmurs, and you know what he means.

He doesn't want to leave, doesn't want to go back to the war and the fighting and the constant struggle. He wants to stay, with you, just like this, forever. And as much as you want that, the two of you both know it's not an option.

"Me too," you murmur.

"I wish..."

"Yeah," you breathe. "Me too."

"I love you," he says again.

You swallow, and there's a lump in your throat, a feeling that seems to settle over you, making your skin feel warm and your pulse thrum. You're not sure what it is, but you know that this, whatever it is, is important, that it means something, and the sudden urge to run from it, to shove it down and push it away, is strong. But Echo’s always been there for you, a steady, unwavering presence, and even though you're terrified, the knowledge that he's here, that he won't leave, settles something in you, and the feeling starts to shift.

Instead of the warmth, it's like a fire, burning away the anxiety and the fear, and the knowledge that comes with it makes you feel lighter than you have in months. You're not sure what it means, or what you'll do with it, but there's a sense of comfort in it, and the smile that stretches across your face is genuine.

"I love you, too," you say.

He makes a strangled noise, and his grip on you tightens, his fingers digging into the skin.

"I love you," he repeats, the words falling from his lips. "Force, I love you. So much. I love you."

He says it over and over, the words spilling out of him. He's still hard inside you, and the feeling sends a bolt of heat through you, your cunt clenching around him. He gasps, his hips grinding forward, and he moans, the sound muffled against your skin.

"Please," you whimper, your nails scraping against the back of his neck.

"Anything," he gasps, and his hips start to move, slow and steady.

It's not frenzied, or frantic, and it doesn't need to be. You have time, all the time in the world, and for once, neither of you are trying to race the clock. He's gentle, his movements languid and unhurried, every thrust like a wave, pulling you deeper and deeper.

He's murmuring the whole time, his voice low and rough, the words tumbling from his lips. He's talking about everything, about the way he feels about you, about the things he wants, the places he wants to take you. It's filthy, and sweet, and so perfect, and you let the words wash over you, reveling in the feeling of him inside you and the way his voice makes your stomach clench.

"Echo," you whine, your thighs tightening around his waist. "Close."

"I've got you," he murmurs. His hand slips between the two of you, his thumb finding the swollen, slippery bud of your clit, rubbing slow circles over it. "That's it, sweetheart. Come for me."

The pleasure builds, slowly and steadily, until you can't think, can't breathe, can't do anything but feel. It's intense and intimate, Echo's eyes fixed firmly on your face, his lips parted in awe. You feel open, exposed, vulnerable, and the only thing that makes it bearable is the fact that he's right there with you, his expression twisted and his muscles trembling, his control slipping more and more with each passing second.

"Please," you beg, and his hips speed up, his rhythm faltering as he starts to lose his grip.

"Come for me," he gasps. "Let go. I'll take care of you."

And you do, his words sending a flood of warmth through you, spreading out until you can feel it everywhere, in every part of your body. Your cunt pulses, clenching around him, and Echo groans, his eyes squeezing shut and his mouth dropping open.

"Fuck," he chokes out. He doesn't slow, doesn't stop, just keeps fucking you through it, and you're shaking, clinging to him and shuddering as the pleasure keeps building. "Shit, sweetheart. You feel so good."

"Love the way you feel," you manage, your voice hoarse and strained. "So full. Love your cock, love you."

He curses, his hips jerking, and his scomp digs into the skin of your back, holding you tighter. His hand leaves your clit, and he grabs your thigh, wrapping his arm around your leg and hiking it higher. The angle changes, and he hits something inside of you that makes you sob, his hips snapping forward.

"Again," he grunts.

You nod, the feeling so intense that you can't manage words. You're practically sobbing, the sounds falling from your lips without thought, and Echo's gaze is fixed on you, his expression hungry and awestruck.

"Fuck," he growls, his thrusts getting more and more erratic. "Come on, sweetheart. Want to feel you. Wanna watch you come. Gonna fill you up. Make you mine."

It's filthy, the things he's saying, and you're lost in him, his hand gripping your waist and his scomp pressed into the small of your back. His gaze is burning, and it feels like the room is spinning, like the world is coming apart at the seams and there's nothing left but the two of you, moving together.

"I can't—"

"That's it," he encourages, his voice rough. He's shaking, and you know he's close. "One more. Come on."

You can feel the tears sliding down your cheeks, and his eyes are wide, his expression stunned.

"Please," you gasp. "Echo, please."

"Fuck," he breathes.

It's like a switch has been flipped, and the slow, steady pace falls apart, his thrusts hard and fast. He surges forward, your back hitting the bed, and his scomp slides under your back, lifting you off the mattress.

It's too much, the new angle and the way he's staring at you, and a sob breaks from your throat, your fingers twisting in the sheets.

"Gorgeous," he breathes. "You're perfect. I love you."

There's a moment, a heartbeat where it seems like everything is suspended. His eyes are wide, and he looks almost... shocked, as if he can't believe what's happening, and something tells you that it's not just about this, about the two of you. It's bigger, somehow, deeper and more profound and the feeling that washes over you is pure, unadulterated joy.

And you can see it on his face, in the way his eyes widen and his mouth drops open. He looks like he's about to burst, and it's so raw, so perfect, and the realization hits you like a blaster bolt.

He's happy.

He's the happiest you've ever seen him, and the fact that it's because of you is overwhelming.

"Love you," he murmurs, and it's the last thing either of you say before the feeling crashes over the two of you.

You cry out, and the dam breaks. The pleasure rushes through you, hot and cold, and the waves break, sweeping over the both of you and carrying you away.

You come with a choked gasp, his name on your lips and his fingers digging into the skin of your thigh. His hips snap forward, and he grinds into you, his face twisting and a loud moan falling from his mouth at the way your body pulls him in, squeezing and pulsing around him.

"Oh, fuck," he breathes.

You cling to him, your eyes fixed on his face. He's beautiful like this, his lips parted and his cheeks flushed, his expression twisted into an expression of pure ecstasy. He holds himself there, buried to the hilt inside you as he starts to come, the first pulse of heat making you whimper.

You can feel his cock twitch, and his brow furrows, a broken sob falling from his lips. His grip on your thigh tightens, and his hips start to stutter, grinding into you and filling you up, his come dripping from you. He lets out another choked noise, and he falls forward, his weight settling on top of you and his mouth finding yours.

"So perfect," he pants, his hips rocking forward a few more times, his movements lazy and slow.

You can't respond, still gasping for air, and you can feel the way he's twitching, the way his body is shaking. It feels like forever before the feeling finally fades and Echo pulls back slightly, mindful of his weight. You can feel him dripping from where the two of you are connected, and you bite your lip, looking up at him through your lashes.

"Hi," you whisper, and he laughs, the sound breathless and a little giddy.

"Hi," he replies, grinning.

Echo's chest is heaving, his muscles quivering, and he looks absolutely wrecked. He's staring at you, his lips parted and his eyes wide, and he's looking at you the way people look at the sun after they've spent too long in the dark, like he's seeing something for the first time and never wants to look away.

"I love watching you," he says, his voice raw and hoarse. "Wish you could see yourself."

"Yeah?"

He nods and reaches up, brushing a strand of damp hair out of your face.

"So gorgeous," he murmurs. "Perfect. Wish I could stay inside you forever."

You hum, and his gaze drops, watching as he finally slides out, a trickle of his release following. He swallows, and he reaches down, his thumb slipping between your folds.

"Echo," you whine, your hips jerking a little.

"Gonna miss that," he mumbles, his tone almost dreamy.

"We've got a few days," you remind him. "And I'm not done with you yet."

He grins, and it's so boyish, so genuine and unguarded, that you find yourself reaching for him. Your hands slide up his chest, over the broad expanse of his shoulders and his neck, and your fingers brush over the spot just below his ear, tracing the edge of his jaw.

Echo leans into your touch, his eyes closing, and his head turns, his lips pressing against the inside of your wrist. You shiver and lean forward, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. He wrinkles it, his eyes still closed, and you can't help the laugh that falls from your lips.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing," you say, and he cracks one eye open, looking suspicious.

"You're laughing," he accuses.

"Because you're adorable."

His lips part, and his eyebrows rise. He doesn't say anything, but his face flushes, his cheeks going pink, and you grin.

"That's the last word I'd use to describe myself," he mutters. “Especially when I’m still inside you.”

"I think I'm the best judge of that," you point out, and he smirks, his eyes glinting.

"Well, if that's the case, I'd have to say the same about you," he teases, and he leans forward, nipping at the soft skin just below your ear. You yelp, and he chuckles, pressing another kiss to your shoulder before he pulls away, searching for his pants.

"Where are you going?" you whine.

"To order food," he says. He tugs his pants on, and the sight of him, completely naked except for the loose fitting black cargo pants, is enough to make your mouth water. "I'm starving, and if I'm going to keep this up, I'm gonna need my strength."

"You mean it?" you ask.

He raises an eyebrow.

"Did you really think I'd pass up the opportunity to have sex with the woman I love all day? In an actual bed? With an actual door that locks?"

Your heart flutters, and you grin.

"No, but I'm still glad to hear it."

"Good," he says. He walks back over, leaning down and kissing you, his lips warm and his stubble scraping against your skin.

"Order some food," you murmur, and he nods. "And maybe a bottle of wine."

"Whatever you want," he says. He steps away, and his gaze flits over you, taking in the way you're sprawled across the bed, still naked and covered in sweat and your combined release. He swallows and shakes his head, backing toward the door.

"I'll be back soon," he promises. He points a finger at you. "Don't move."

You give him a salute, and he grins, his eyes dancing.

"I love you," he says, and it's so easy, the words falling from his lips like they've always been there.

"I love you," you tell him, and the smile he gives you is enough to light up the entire room.

The door closes behind him, and you collapse back onto the pillows, closing your eyes and letting yourself revel in the feeling of the bed beneath you, the cool air drifting over your heated skin, and the lingering ache between your thighs.

This isn't how you imagined this week would go. You'd thought that it would be a brief respite, a chance to relax before heading back to the fight. You'd expected a week of stress and anxiety, of wondering if it would be the last one, and whether or not you'd get to spend any of it with the man we’re falling for despite your better judgement.

Instead, you're here, lying in a bed, in a place where there's no war and no missions and no responsibilities. For the first time in months, there's no one depending on you, no one waiting for you to save them, and no one demanding things from you that you're not sure you can give.

It's peaceful, and it's perfect, and the thought that Echo, the man who's seen and experienced more than anyone should ever have to, feels the same makes you smile.

For the first time since the war started, everything is good.

You let your eyes fall closed, and the sound of the waves is soothing, the faint noise carrying up the hill.

In the end, it's not the ocean or the house or the fact that for once, you have nothing to do.

It's him.

Echo.

He's the reason this feels like home.

And in the end, you know that's the only thing that really matters.

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

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

@lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @puppetscenario

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

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

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

@schrodingersraven @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon @dreamie411 @sukithebean

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

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

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

#echo x reader #tbb echo #tbb echo x reader #arc trooper echo #the bad batch #the bad batch x reader #tbb echo x you #clone x reader #echo x you #arc trooper echo x reader #roy writes #hello and welcome to my second “echo gets sooo smiley cutesy after sex” ted talk #the grumpy just gets fucked right out of him #and i'll die on this hill actually #did not proofread this much sorry

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sinfulsalutations · 8 months ago

Text

𝕣𝕚𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕨𝕒𝕧𝕖 ⋆*･ﾟ 𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕘𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕙𝕦𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣

➼ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ☆ ꜱᴇʀɢᴇᴀɴᴛ ʜᴜɴᴛᴇʀ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➼ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ ☆ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ʜᴜɴᴛᴇʀ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴢᴇꜱ ʜᴏᴡ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ʜɪꜱ ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ᴀꜰꜰᴇᴄᴛꜱ ʏᴏᴜ.

➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴘᴏʀɴ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴘʟᴏᴛ, ꜰᴇʀᴀʟ+ʜᴏʀɴʏ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏʀ, ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ᴘʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ɪɴ ʜᴇᴀᴛ, ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ᴋɪɴᴋ, ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴛᴇɴꜱɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴀɴᴛᴀꜱɪᴇꜱ, ᴍᴜᴛᴜᴀʟ ᴘɪɴɪɴɢ, ʀᴇꜱᴏʟᴠᴇᴅ ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴛᴇɴꜱɪᴏɴ, ʜᴜɴᴛᴇʀ ɪꜱ ᴛᴏᴏ ꜱᴇxʏ ꜰᴏʀ ʜɪꜱ ᴏᴡɴ ɢᴏᴏᴅ, ᴍᴜᴛᴜᴀʟ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴜʀʙᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ɢʀɪɴᴅɪɴɢ, ᴍɪʟᴅ ɢᴏʀᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴇꜱᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴡᴏᴜɴᴅꜱ, ɪ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ʀᴇɢʀᴇᴛ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʟᴍᴀᴏ

➼ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ☆ 9.1ᴋ

➼ ᴘᴏᴠ ☆ ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ

➼ ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ ☆ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ - ᴇᴛʜᴇʟ ᴄᴀɪɴ, ᴍᴏᴏɴꜱᴛʀᴜᴄᴋ - ᴇɴʜʏᴘᴇɴ

⋆ ★ … ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛᴏᴏᴋ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴀᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ᴇxᴀɢɢᴇʀᴀᴛɪɴɢ, ᴀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ʏᴇᴀʀ ᴛᴏ ꜰɪɴɪꜱʜ. ɪ ʙᴇɢᴀɴ ɪᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇɢɪɴɴɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ᴊᴜʟʏ ᴏꜰ 2023 ᴀɴᴅ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴋᴇᴘᴛ ᴘᴜᴛᴛɪɴɢ ɪᴛ ᴏꜰꜰ ꜰᴏʀ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴘʀᴏᴊᴇᴄᴛꜱ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴀꜱ ɪ ᴋᴇᴘᴛ ᴡᴏʀᴋɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ɪᴛ ɪᴛ ᴋᴇᴘᴛ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ʟᴏɴɢᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴏɴɢᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴜʜʜʜ ᴏᴏᴘꜱ ɪᴛꜱ ᴀʟᴍᴏꜱᴛ 10ᴋ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ. ᴀʟꜱᴏ, ʏᴇᴀʜ, ɪ'ᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ. ʏᴀʏ? ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ.

➼ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ

⋆ ★ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3 ⋆*･ﾟ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀᴍ

Despite the gradual (yet quite quick, in retrospect) increment of your feelings toward the skilled soldier, you do, in fact, notice the blunt sexual appeal of Hunter when you first meet Clone Force 99.

It’s difficult not to; with his long hair you can’t quite place how the Kaminoans allow him to have, the striking skull tattoo, his toned body, and discernable shape even through the heavy armor, you can’t help but flutter your eyelashes and rock your feet back and forth like you’re a schoolgirl all over again. Hunter is the Bad Batch’s essential leader, the closest in appearance to the rivaled ‘regs,’ leading them as their Sergeant and CT-9901, and he stands out more than any other clone you’ve interacted with.

His warm, welcoming, yet slightly wary smile is just as firm as the handshake he gives you when you first meet him, leaning down a little to your height (you’d think clone defects would be the same height, or maybe even shorter than a veritable trooper, but instead you feel enveloped by his vertical. Not that you don’t enjoy the feeling, of course) and nodding firmly.

Then you hear his voice.

It’s only a short sentence; a brief introduction and warm gratitude for joining them as their medic before you acquaint yourself with the rest of the squad. But your ears wrap around the waves of his rough, musky baritone like a magnet. Everything feels as though it’s finally clicked into place and created the perfect picture of your desired man.

Your mind immediately begins to create dreamy rhetoric, wondering silly things to yourself.

Had your mind been aimlessly wandering the galaxy for this long, circling like materials until you finally found an opposite —An opposite so charmingly rugged?

The feeling that rushes through you feels so destined.

Lucky for you, Hunter seems to express his commands frequently with his voice; sometimes hushed through a link, the vibrations of your comm humming pleasantly between the soft undersides of your fingers as he talks.

It always during the times when you’re deep past enemy lines, taking down clankers more efficiently than a Starfleet. Initially too, as you were still trying to memorize their master list of designated plans and being weighed down by the extra weight of regulation armor.

“Don’t go through there yet. Squad of clankers waiting for us.”

“You sure, Hunter? I don’t hear any steps.”

“Take it from the person with enhanced hearing, little medic. Just wait for me.”

Other times when he speaks to you, it’s thunderous commands; ones that he yells out across a field or war front. It frightens you at first, your shoulders jolting and hands instinctively clamping over your ears to deafen the noise, but you quickly realize he’s ordering you to act. Once you get used to the intensity, you come to equally enjoy and indulge how his voice takes on a new edge in fleeting moments of urgency and demand; a once blissful burning of wood turning into threatening crackles, and from there a bleeding forest fire.

“Wrecker, move in! Now, now! Crosshair, how’s the bird's view looking?”

It’s incredibly embarrassing how something as simple as his voice can leave you this breathless. Even from the snide comments he can’t seem to help himself from saying when Wrecker retells stories to you, either from their days as shinies and cadets to missions where you stayed back on the Marauder. Between Tech’s rambling and Wrecker’s enthusiastic narration, the sound of Hunter’s voice becomes even more of a calming sedative to you.

Though it equally arouses you in other moments.

How his morning voice is somehow even lower and raspier than his regular tone is a study that must be researched and conducted by only the galaxy’s best scientists. It seems just so impossible, unbelievable; none of it is inauthentic either—the grogginess is always equally spread through his body, from his tired slouch and ruffled hair, lolling eyes, the unkempt composition of the clothes hung over his broad shoulders and slim waist. It’s unspoken the things you might do if you felt there was even the slimmest chance of starting your every day with that sound so deep and lovely right in your ear.

When he addresses you directly before you both allow yourself the time to sleep, asking you to check on old injuries or patch up new ones he got on the last mission. He always manages to get hurt in the most menial yet bothersome ways, and you’re once again forced into close proximity; you’re beginning to consider paying a few scientists and investigators to study the sexy phenomenon that is Hunter. But either way, you sit legs crossed at the ankles in the cockpit, forcing yourself to zone out on anything he might be saying every few minutes so you don’t have to squirm and change your position in your seat every so often and prevent showing how damn flustered and hot he makes you; in more places than just your cheeks and ears.

In flitting moments you get time to relish in his conjured wavelength, take in the scene you can create with just the sound of his voice; he transports you to a world of the dark morning fog, the red of his bandana the most vibrant sight in your nearest vision as he takes you on the forest floor just like that, no civil thoughts daring to come to each of your minds as he finally gives you the relief you crave for in real life.

Your depraved fantasy of Hunter is all you can dream of when you sit yourself on your fingers, holding back as many of the impoverished whines you wish to let out due to your true desperation for such an attractive man.

And the sweet indulgences you luxuriate in make you selfish. You want more, need to know how he’d sound grunting, moaning your name while his cock lay on your tongue. Or how the oscillations of his words feel on your inner thighs, against your clit when he pushes his fingers past your tight barrier. There’s much more you could learn, could explore if you could attempt an advance. Or simply given something more than slight moments of suggestion that he might have the same deviant desires as you to allow the green light.

You’ve yet to receive such signals. And flimsy fantasies, the work of your fingers to chase unattainable pleasure, and insistent memorization of his voice can only keep you quenched for so long.

“Hunter,” The inadvertent, pathetic whine crawls up your throat the moment you feel his breath on your neck, lingering over your skin even as he pulls back after hearing the noise you make.

“Just a little more,” He reassures you. The hand not firmly gripping your wrist pats your shoulder, and your cheeks flush at the passing fondness. “Let’s try to get one more shot on target and we’ll call it quits, how does that sound?”

With the warmth of your flushed face spreading to the rest of your body, you mutter,

“Sounds good,”

and try to softly shake off your arousal, eyes zeroing in on the middle of the tree, the finger hovering over the trigger surprisingly still. You’re about to take the shot before he starts instructing you again.

“Fix your foot stance,” Hunter gently guides your legs apart with one of his own, fixing the positioning of your feet planted onto the dirt and you take in a deeper breath than you intend to. The fire kindle of his voice and the fire kindle of your core are equal matches now; the husk of his chunked honey tone will certainly turn you to mush if he continues any further, it feels.

Really, how does this oblivious, heart-seizing bastard expect you to keep your focus on this pointless shooting practice when he’s got you this compromised?

“Try again now,” he says after he’s got you in the position he wants. You huff again, letting the fiery stimulation fall to your diaphragm, and breathe down your arousal. Just one hit on the target and you’ll be free of this torture.

But as you lift your arm again, eyes narrowing closer and closer to your prize, the imminent feeling of his leg between yours rears its head. You become so incredibly, annoyingly aware of it, and grimace, biting your lip softly and knitting your eyebrows together to fully get him out of your mind and body. You tug on your bottom lip and pull the trigger.

The bullet lands left side.

A deep groan of frustration leaves you; it sounds much quieter with Hunter’s rumble and grunt in your ear. You gently pull away from his grasp, handing him the blaster, and turn to face him directly. And when you catch that damned expression you promptly decide that you don’t like to see him disappointed; at least, it looks as though he’s disappointed. Eyebrows pinched together with the smallest frown, his chin curled into himself as he looks down at you (Maybe you should look into research for lawyers in the case of when you sue Hunter for the neck pain he’s caused).

“It’s alright,” He assures you, but it doesn’t feel right. And from the way he looks at you, it’s not alright.

“No, it isn’t,” You tell him exactly that, your fingers curling and interlocking together by your stomach. His eyes dart down for a brief moment of scanning, and they don’t linger too long; Maker, you wish you had the power for your eyes not to glue to him and his absolute stature instantly when you enter a space. “I should be better at this by now.”

Hunter clicks his tongue and turns away, as if deep in swirling thought. His gaze comes back to you before you know it.

“You should be,” He agrees, but nothing is degrading or critical in his voice. In his eyes, the wave of gentleness that cascades and shifts his expression, there’s unconditional empathy that you do not deserve and he wouldn’t grace you with if he were to know what you beg him to do to you in your dreams.

“We can try again,” You then insist, but Hunter quickly shakes his head.

“We’ve been working on this for an hour,” He tells you, slickly spinning the blaster back into his holster. He sounds tired as well, a new jaggedness in the smoke tendrils of his voice. “That’s more than enough practice.”

“But I just want to–”

“I know.”

Somehow, those words are more devastating than anything else he’s said. You look back and catch the mysterious glint in his eye, almost as elusive as his words might connotate on a foggy day.

“Trust me,” He continues. You don’t even realize his hand has wandered and softly taken your chin between two fingers until you feel the soft pads brush against your skin; your jaw slacks. He pinches your chin a little tighter to ensure your eyes are fixed on him. “You just want to prove yourself.”

Well, of course, you think to yourself vindictively. It’s enough that you feel ever-so-slightly out of place in a squad of clone troopers, let alone defective ones; not being able to properly handle a blaster in the mere presence of your crush is even more embarrassing. How juvenile.

“We can try again another time. But you’re tired. I can feel it,” He continues. There’s the slightest hint of gentleness you only pick up on because of how you hone all your focus on dissecting and admiring every single crevice of his articulations. Suddenly, he drops your chin, and your head lolls back into place, rather sloppily, and you look up through your eyelashes. “Time for us to sleep, I think.”

With that, Hunter whips around and heads toward the ramp to the Marauder. You’re left there with a smarting jaw, discreetly trying to rub your legs together and take the heat out of the area.

“Alright,” You sigh, glancing around before trotting after him, the white noise keeping your thoughts off of the man in front of you.

Yet, you still picture what his knee had felt like parting your thighs open only half an hour later. Attempting to recreate it with your arm and then your pillow, you give yourself a foggy release and whimper a jumbled version of his name into your pillow before drifting off, body still buzzing with frustration.

The next week, as if the weeks and months before weren’t as excruciating, is pure sexual torture. Not to say it’s entirely filled with frustration and dull aching, however. When you and Hunter have a moment of silence, alone by the cots or the engine or the cockpit together, you both relax into the same, comfortable silence that fills the time.

It’s better to have him not running his mouth off, for sure. You still have to deal with it on deployments and missions, but it’s manageable when you’re knocking down clankers or trying to listen to Tech’s very confusing instructions on how to fly the plane to a certain location to pick them up. But he’s allowing the silence to fester between you two. All the better to preserve the actual sweet, steady relationship you have aside from your fiery attraction, you think.

Hey, it could be worse.

But then the dumbass decides to get himself injured. Get pushed into and dragged against hard durasteel, leaving a gash across his stomach that could challenge Wrecker’s spiderweb scars in its damage. Your jaw practically drops when they return and you see the wound out in the open; you can’t stop yourself before you lurch forward with worried eyes and grasp his wrist around your fingers, pushing him down onto a bench.

As Tech pilots the ship off the planet, the rest all recline and lick their minuscule wounds beside him, while you and Hunter remain cramped in the back, avoiding his gaze and praying to the Maker that he keeps his voice to quiet rough grunts of pain as you try to unclip each different plate of his armor and lay them neatly beside him, tutting when more of his wound is revealed to you.

”Oh my goodness, oh my goodness ohmygoodness,” You stammer to yourself, more and more strained with each breath you take, peeling off the tarnished fabric of his blacks.

“It’s not too bad,” He argues with a soft grin, which slowly fades away when you glare.

“Don’t,” You retort, firm and simple, flashing a genuine look of empathy, and even a drip of fear. If you didn’t know any better, you might think Hunter practically melts under your look with how he slumps and his expression droops. But he’s still an oblivious, sexy fool, you remind yourself.

You don’t even have the energy to fawn over how incredibly attractive he sounds with the rough baritone and anguished sigh-like tone he wears; you instead scramble to open the first aid kit. You can feel his gaze set selectively on you and it doesn’t help. In the corner of your eye, he tilts his head.

“Is everything alright?”

You nod automatically.

“Everything is fine.”

The Marauder jostles in rough air; the ship tilts, your stomach dropping with the altitude change, and you’re unwantedly yanked onto Hunter’s lap with a yelp.

You still for a moment, waiting for the ship to steady again before you become acutely aware of how your chest is almost completely pressed up onto his face. And how your knees are caged over his thighs, your pelvis way too close to his wound for each of your comfort. And pressure against your waist, not too firm but still weighting you to his body–wait, is Hunter holding you to him?

Your eyes widen and you stumble off, stammering nonsensically and afraid to gaze upon his face. You don’t for a long moment, before grabbing the disinfectant and pouring it onto a cloth.

Silence festers between the two of you. When Hunter does speak, it’s not to you.

“Tech! Get her steady, would you?” He yells across the ship, vexed and evidently not in an ideal mood. Tech immediately retorts in his typical, inappropriately casual, intellectual tone,

“That is not a light request, Hunter. I am already trying.”

Hunter scoffs and you finally get the gall to look at him. He exchanges a mutual look of annoyance and manages to grin wider for you. The sight soothes your frayed ends ever so slightly, and you stare down at his stomach again at the wound, biting your lip as you inspect the damage.

Your hands come to the hem of his blacks and you give him a silent ask with your eyes.

“Is it alright if I take this off?”

He hums, which you take as a yes, and you slowly peel it off of his skin, trying very, very hard to ensure your stare doesn’t linger. He looks at you with a mysterious gaze that's too hard to place for your liking. But you just try and shake it off as you slowly dab his wound with the bacta-dipped cloth, pressing it firm against the injury.

When he hisses, you perk up with wide eyes.

“Did that hurt?”

Hunter clenches his teeth and nods slowly, and you pull away with shaky hands. His arms reach out, encircling his fingers around your wrist, and guides them back tenderly.

“It’s alright,” He says, his tone dropping down an octave as your hands tremble again in his grasp. You gain the courage to look up at him, biting your lip softly. The grin he wears manages to soothe your nerves, just a little. “I’ve got you, girl. Just let me guide you so you don’t hurt me.”

You let out a shaky exhale of relief, and he sighs, dipping his chin down, but keeping the intense eye contact.

“How does that sound?”

“Good,” You squeak, the rise and fall of your chest the only constant managing to soothe your fried senses. After a couple of breaths, you finish your thought. “Better.” You press onto a side of his wound, softly spreading the bacta onto it; your eyes don’t separate from his once. “How’s that?”

He huffs, not of frustration or annoyance, but more a comforting relief.

"Fine. Keep going."

The rasp stirs between the space between the two of you, and you take a deep breath before you can do anything else.

With the firm grasp on your wrists and the low tendrils of his voice softly directing you, you continue to tend to his wound, your hands moving deftly over his skin. The thick, intoxicating tension in the air is palpable; the lingering silence between you weighs heavy despite your best attempts to snap yourself out of it and take care of him like you're supposed to.

It's not your fault he just sounds so damn sexy all the time.

"Careful, careful," He tuts when you're stitching up a particularly bad spot, pressing your fingers around the skin and holding it there as you thread the stitch through. "Just a little gentler, please."

Then, "Avoid that spot, please. I can't even-- shit -- breathe without it hurting. Just stitch around it. Yeah, just like that. Good job, little medic," As you're finishing up.

Once you finish wrapping the bandage firmly over the wound and around his waist, taping it firmly to him, he dislodges his fingers from where it's wrapped around your wrist, bringing it to your chin and manhandling you slightly to get a better look into your eyes.

"See, ‘wasn't so bad, was it?" He flashes you a grin, obviously masking the pain etching into his limbs, all to calm your nerves. The fact that he's making such a constant effort to make you feel better despite his state makes you positively soft. "You did great."

You grin back, nodding and averting your eyes.

"Thank you."

There's a pause before he bludgeons you with his next sentence.

"You enjoy getting instructions."

Your eyes widen; you almost drop the first aid kit; everything stills, your chest tight as you process his words. Shit, what the fuck?

What the fuck?

"Wh--What?" You stammer, taking a small step backward and tilting your head to appear more confused and insulted by the accusation. Maybe if you appear offended, he’ll take it back. "Who said that?"

"You don’t need to say it. I can feel it," He continues, gaze thoughtfully fixated on you. He doesn't even falter when you seem to panic. "I can see it." You try to gawk at him to make him feel stupid, make him retract what he's saying, but either he's so certain or you don't seem very convincing.

No matter; you're still fucked.

"You like getting told what to do."

Your heart pounds, and Hunter just sits there, legs spread leisurely, his eyebrow slightly raised in expectation. Seriously, what does he expect you to answer with? Does he want you to fess up and admit how depraved and desperate you are for his touch, then run off mortified to never speak to him again? Surely he doesn’t expect you to take.

Defeated, you sigh and softly run your hands over your work again, avoiding his burning gaze.

"Only from you," you mutter, then immediately pray devotedly to the Maker he doesn't hear. Hunter hums, a tone of question in his voice, then you proceed to figuratively jump off a cliff as you remember this fucker has enhanced senses.

"Why’s that, mesh’la?" He asks. Instinctively, your eyebrows knit together when the new nickname graces your ears.

"What does mesh’la mean?"

Hunter doesn't seem very phased. Can't you just throw him off his rhythm once?

"Don’t worry about that," He quickly excuses your question as a distraction from the question at hand. "But tell me why you only enjoy getting instructions from me."

There's something smug to the way he talks, hidden behind insistent concern and curiosity.

"Why’s that, tell me."

Your hand comes up to hide your face, but he takes it and keeps it away from disfiguring his view of your expression. You want to babble; you can feel your face heating up. Instead, you frown.

"I, uh," You try to discreetly rub your thighs together languidly, easing the tension and buildup of heat in between them. A huff leaves his lips that sounds oddly close to a chuckle.

"Come on," You lift your head, perplexed for a split moment, but then he pats the top of his thigh. You blink once, then twice, then another time for good measure, just to make sure you're seeing correctly. Is he... what's he even implying?

"Sit down. On my lap."

Oh. That’s what.

Your mouth opens, a strange sound bordering on a choke leaving your throat as you try to retort or deny him. He only raises his eyebrows and dips his chin down, gesturing toward his lap again.

You huff, eyebrows knitted, and take a small step toward him, slowly, and you envelop his figure, trapping his legs between your knees and careening slightly, hands still meeting at your stomach, unsure of where to move. He nods encouragingly.

“Good job, just like that,” He praises you, hands slowly rising to rest on the handles of your hips, fingers tracing your waist. You take a sharp intake of breath, eyes drifting down to where your bodies meet, and look back up at him again. Hunter’s wearing this oh-so-innocent, deer-in-headlights expression you know is bantha-shit. “What’s got you so hot and bothered?”

You sough vindictively, averting your eyes.

“Stop teasing me.”

He laughs— though it’s more of a snarky, yet affectionate chuckle. You feel so naked in his presence, given such focused, vehement attention.

“I’m not teasing. Just concerned,” He tells you. The problem is, Hunter does well making you think he’s actually this clueless when he does know and just wants to hear it from your lips.

“Mhm,” You hum sarcastically with a pout.

He manages to grin at you, the corners of his eyes scrunching up as he looks at you. You let your eyes come back to him.

“I can do both, can’t I?” He offers.

“Sure,” You retort.

Squinting his eyes, he casually rubs his hands up and down the sides of your body.

“I’ll figure it out, one way or another,” He affirms, ending the sentence with a wink; you take a deep breath, letting your jaw slack. Hunter keeps talking like there’s nothing thick in the air between you.

“Put your hands on my shoulders.”

You furrow your eyebrows; he pouts like an upset child. Chastising, you huff and do as he says. When your hands shake slightly, he continues giving you instructions. They are so simple, yet they seem so alluring and nuanced in this context. In his voice.

”Steady yourself. Yeah, like that. Good.”

You wiggle your hips slightly, and something boils in his stomach slightly, something bordering on a groan. Your legs are warming up but you have no way to close them and satiate yourself. So all you can do is squirm.

Hunter perks up in concern.

“Are you comfortable?”

You take a moment to respond but then nod.

“Good.” Hunter grins softly, patting your left hip. For a moment, he decides to rake his eyes over you appreciatively, almost in the same way you do when you assume he isn’t looking. “I’m glad.”

Offering a civil smile of mutual understanding, you wiggle your hips, trying to find a better position if you’re going to be compromised on his lap.

”Trail your hands down for me.”

It's hard to deny or disobey him with a voice like that, especially when you know it’s directed toward you. So you slowly let your hands slip from his shoulders and descend his chest and torso.

“Yeah, down,” He encourages you when you reach the top of his wrapped wound. “Maybe try to avoid the gash.”

You lift your hands and let only the pads of your fingers place feather-light touches over the wrapping. When your hands begin to tremble again the further you descend, reaching his pelvis, he tuts to stop you. “That’s a good place to stop.”

You look up again with wide eyes, trying to stop your erratic (embarrassing) trembles and tilt your head. There’s more he’s going to say. At least it seems so.

“Whenever you’re ready, put your hand over my crotch.” He gives you a soft look of reassurance, making sure you’re completely comfortable in this position, before finishing. “I want you to feel me.”

Gasping softly, you pull your hand away, fingers curling into your palm and gripping tightly. A shiver runs through you, and you can’t seem to figure out if it’s from shock or pleasure.

“What?” You begin, eyes flitting from his face and back. “H-Hunter, I shouldn’t.”

“I’m asking you to.” Polite insistence is the game he plays. If this truly is a trap, you might happily fall if it means you get to touch him. He runs his hands over your curves again. “I want you to.”

You tense further, something bordering on fear in your eyes. Hunter notices and frowns while he clarifies:

“Unless you don’t want it. ‘Cause then… we can stop. No hard feelings…”

You can see how he’s getting lost in his thoughts. For a split moment, that perfect composure he holds in your presence fractures; he seems insecure and nervous; anticipating inevitable rejection because he’s pushed you too far.

That isn’t the case.

As you finally press your palm to his bulge, you contain your gasp. He’s big. And so hard.

“Fuck,” He groans, head tilting back. “Feel that?”

Oh kriff, that rumble. It’s warm and smooth yet rough all the same, creeping its way over your skin until you’re forced to keep the faintest whimper from leaving your throat. You string your lips tight and nod.

“Mhm,” Is the only thing that manages to leave your mouth, whiny and soft. You palm him further, as if the fabric would simply tear away and you could finally feel his skin on yours. He hums again, and you’re left looking doe-eyed in his direction. “Shit, Hunter.”

He throws a heavy statement onto you.

“It’s my voice, isn’t it?”

You tilt your head up, containing the urge to gasp.

“What?”

“What’s making you so hot and bothered,” He continues. You want to look away, hide your face in your hands with humiliating embarrassment, but you’re trembling so much on top of him that you can’t even flit your eyes away. “You like my voice. And you like it when I tell you what to do.”

You gasp lightly when you feel his warm hand on your thigh. Your cunt twitches and it really shouldn’t. He’s barely doing anything.

“Well,” he continues, raising an eyebrow. “Are you going to deny it?”

The answer is delivered non-verbally. You relax into his lap, palm pressing further to his bulge, and then you squeeze oh so gently. That heavenly groan graces your ears and you devoutly catalog it into your mind for later recollection.

His chin dips down to catch a glimpse of your hand before he meets your eyes.

“Mesh’la,” he says; even without knowing what it means, just hearing how he speaks with such beguile and worship tells all that you need to know. “Mesh’la… can you do something for me?”

“Yeah. Of course. Anything,” You stammer out with a slack jaw, far too enthusiastic. Hunter doesn’t seem to regard it as anything distorting the absolute utmost respect that he must feel while he has you in his lap with your hand on his dick.

“Slip your pants off.”

It’s practically instinctual how efficiently you gingerly push yourself off of his lap and follow his order. With your hands chastely placed above your waistband, you let your thumbs push past, then await Hunter to grant you to pull them off. His eyes dilate with the view, and he nods.

The pants find their way to the ground clumsily, and you cringe internally at your lack of grace, but when you finally catch sight of Hunter’s expression, perhaps it’s nothing to worry about.

He looks… starved. Hypnotized by the splendor in front of him, for his eyes and his hands and his body only to touch, feel, hold, take.

“You’re… fuck,” he sighs, sounding out of breath, as though you’d just swept his leg and taken him off his feet. His hand methodically strokes up and down his thigh, only lightly grazing the tent in his pants as he takes his eyes over how you look, over and over again.

“You’re stunning,” he finally manages to say. His hand stops stroking to pat his thigh lightly, and his voice simmers in a way you know is on purpose. “C’mere, sit on my lap again.”

“Are you sure?” You ask for permission despite rocking your feet back and forth to shimmy your way back. As you gesture toward the bandages wrapped around his middle, Hunter huffs and frowns with miffed frustration. “You’re still injured.”

Hunter gripes to himself as he pushes himself up, placing his hands on your hips and pulling you to the free space between his two hard, firm thighs. His dexterity surprises you. The warmth radiating from his body does even more.

“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”

Oh.

Shit.

He looks the part, certainly; you only try to feel the faintest tremble of his fingers when his hands float away from your hips to sit on the top of his legs again,

“Okay,” You mutter aimlessly, reaching up to your face to brush your hair away in a measly attempt to look more presentable. Your voice is just a squeaky little thing, and it’s so incredibly humiliating. “Okay…”

“It’s alright,” Hunter tries to soothe you, and you breathe shallowly.

“I know that.” Your tongue runs over your bottom lip and you heave. “I just…”

Before you’re able to process what’s happening, Hunter’s reaching a hand out to cup your face. Despite the coarseness of his skin, his callouses fall on your cheek, it’s so tender, and you melt into his touch.

“Do you need some guidance, little medic?”

With a slight whine, you nod, letting your lashes flutter. Hunter lets his thumb swipe over your bottom lip, and your mouth parts. He grins at your unprompted compliance.

“Then let me tell you what to do. Let me tell you how to touch yourself and make you come from that, and my voice too.”

A depraved noise is choked out of you.

“Fuck,” your head careens to the side, but his firm hold on the side of your face keeps your gaze on him. His grin turns more into a cheeky smirk.

“How does that sound?” He asks. You nod adamantly before he tries to change his mind, so worried that he’ll push you away at any moment. As though he can read your mind, the hand that was still on the back of your thigh takes a gentle squeeze before trailing up your body, taking appreciative feels of your ass and hips before settling on your waist again.

“Mm…” You hum, reveling in the sensation. “Really good.”

Hunter gives you a half-crooked smile, and you want to cuss him out, or yourself, you’re not sure who to be fed up with.

“Come on, little medic,” He urges you on, patting your hip. “Slip your hand down your panties.”

Wordlessly, you let a trembling hand descend down your body. You have little dignity left in you to try and make yourself appear more seductive, but you hope your image isn’t so repulsive. The moment your fingertips make contact with your heat, your fingers grazing over your mons and clit, your mouth falls open in a silent gasp.

Hunter tilts his head.

“How does it feel? Are you wet?”

He should know already, smug bastard.

“Yeah,” you nod, keening further into his touch when he tilts his chin down, leaning toward your ear.

He takes a gentle lick, so light that if you weren’t in his grasp you wouldn’t have noticed.

“How wet?”

Your hips instinctively buck to rub yourself over your hand, a rush of arousal washing over you.

“Re–“ You swallow a wad of spit sitting on your tongue. “Really wet.”

Hunter’s lips are gentle when they undulate as he speaks oh so close to your ear, quiet and warm, words just for you.

“Just from my voice?” When he asks this time, you don’t detect much smugness; he wants the confirmation and credibility for a foundation of fact he’s built for himself.

You nod, but add on more.

“Not just that.”

“Hm?” His dark rumble travels down your spine and you squirm with pleasant upheaval. Your hand is still awkwardly lodged down your panties with nothing to do.

“Tell me more,” he demands with an assuasive croon. With one last kitten lick that lingers on the shell of your ear, he allows his lips to wander, mouthing against your skin, leaving delicate kisses on your temple, your jaw, and any moles and freckles in his nearest vicinity while he awaits your answer.

“I, uh,” you begin, awaiting to land on a coherent stream of words loosely strung together to fall on your tongue. “your—“

Just as you feel something begin to tie, your gaze drops down. Hunter palms his full erection over his blacks, languidly as though without a care, and the thought of him being aroused by this, aroused by you, slaps your mind into a render less zone.

“—fuck.”

He chuckles right in your damn face, and Maker he’s just too pretty not to kiss. But you resist the temptation with the festering worry of crossing the barrier past simple attraction into affection.

So you swallow slow and hard and try to compose a sentence.

“Your, face—“

Yeah, real eloquent, idiot.

“—That skull tattoo, it’s, well, shit…”

Your tongue wraps around itself again, words becoming more and more hard to piece together the longer you think about it. All that your primal mind begs you to think of is the olympic man presented under you, and the heat that radiates off the both of you.

“Alright now, you don’t have to continue,” Hunter huffs with no real malice contained in his words. It still makes you cringe nonetheless.

“That bad?” You ask with a clenched jaw.

A simple head shake is all you receive, but it’s more than enough to sedate a growing burn in the pit of your stomach. The hand not pressed to his crotch gently holds your hip, thumb swiping over your panties and bare skin; he even dares to let it slip past the waistband. The accurate awareness of your hand pressed to your pussy returns to you.

“Don’t want you to focus your energy on that,” he clarifies, eyes looking into yours with a softness you’ve never associated with Hunter. You’d find it peculiar in a regular conversation, but everything about this interaction has been anything but normal.

You suddenly realize you’re at a loss again. “So what do you want me to do?” You ask because you feel humiliated just straddling him like this.

Hunter puffs out his chest and you prepare yourself for the worst.

A coarse hand presses to your navel, trailing up underneath your shirt to sketch an image of your body underneath, stopping right where “Rub your pussy for me.”

It’s worded like a demand, but he voices it as though it’s a request. Your body wants to tense and retract, but the palm spread over the expanse of your stomach prevents you.

“You can do that,” Hunter encourages you, almost as though you were a creature he’s saddled on to ride. Though in this instance, you’d much rather be the one to ride. “Can’t you? For me?”

With a huff, you look away and nod bashfully. It’s wordless when you begin to move your hand, let your fingers get soaked as they rub up and down, up and down… you’re almost too tense to really feel the sensation, but Hunter’s doting gaze and his firm hand on your stomach keep you grounded. As you collect slick, running your fingers through your folds, it takes heavy petting for you to relax your jaw and let out the most pleasantly pathetic whimper.

Hunter groans, adding fuel to the flame flourishing in your pants, a dark sound of thunder rumbling in the sky, forewarning something much more devastating.

“Yeah, just like that,” he encourages you in that same husky tone following the groan. “Rock your hips too.”

You do so diligently, using your palm to press against your clit as a foundation for the rest of your hand to move leisurely while you rock your hips into himself. Hunter’s hand retracts from your stomach, fingers curling into his palms as he lets his knuckles graze against your skin. When you shiver, he takes it as an invitation to shush you gently against your temple, before his hand falls to your waist again.

The moment you glance down, you have to tip your chin back with an ascendant sigh. He’s got his hand over his clothed erection, palming it with a firm hand, almost absentmindedly as he keeps his eyes on you.

“Fuck, Hunter…” The desperate, embarrassing whimper comes out of you far more loud than you intend. Hunter shushes you gently.

“Keep quiet for me,” he commands; how are you meant to be by him when he speaks like that?

“Good?” He then asks, seemingly seeking approval good enough for him to continue. “Do I sound as good as you imagined?”

You want to say yes, declare it to the entire galaxy, and tell him just how wonderful this man is, but you’re far too overwhelmed by all the pleasurable sensations disrupting your thought process. So instead you nod.

That seems to satisfy Hunter, and the smallest smirk curls on his lips as he watches you squirm and rock your hips into your hands.

“Don’t you as well.”

With a hum, you try to dismiss the comment. But only as you let it sit does the implication of his words sink to your stomach. But he doesn’t allow you to dwell on it for too long, it seems, as he continues,

“I want you to keep touching yourself. Do whatever you need to for me. Whatever makes you come.”

He pats his incredibly intimidating bulge as though it’s an invitation.

“Right here, on my lap.”

You resist the dizzyness that threatens to overtake your senses, but as you steady your breaths, you suddenly feel so exposed. Far too exposed compared to Hunter.

So you try to level the playing field.

“Would you… er…”

If only your words could come out correctly. Hunter raises an eyebrow, perked with a cheeky glint in his eye.

“Hm?” He hums.

You grunt and attempt again to tunnel out the words. Like a plow shoveling out snow or sand.

“It—It feels unfair that I’m the only one here getting off.”

You wince as you finish the sentence. Maker, you sound so clunky and awkward. So much for being seductive.

But Hunter hums with total compliance, letting his hand trail up to where his bottoms cling to his skin.

“‘Guess you’re right.” Slowly, oh-so-slowly, Hunter peels back the waistband of his blacks, letting his hand slip through to free his cock from underneath the garments.

You think you’ve been knocked out for a healthy minute when you get a proper look. You’d never imagine describing a cock as pretty, but just like everything else, Hunter may become an exception. His fingers curl around the base with rather ease, before reaching up with it to his chin. He opens his mouth, letting a wad of spit collect and drop onto his palm, allowing him to stroke his cock with a more slick movement.

Maker, he’s so… so…

No, that can’t be right. His cock is far too thick for his hand to wrap around it so easily. But then you remember his proportions, especially compared to yours. A small chuckle leaves you when you imagine how you might try to wrap a full hand around his length.

Hunter leisurely strokes himself, eyes set on yours with an intensity that makes your stomach leap bounds up to your chest.

“Now it’s more fair, little medic,” he says. “Don’t you think?”

You nod adamantly with no hesitation.

“Yeah, yeah…” Your fingers deftly move to trap your clit between your index and middle, your mouth falling open when you feel the pressure hum over you. “Shit.”

Hunter huffs with a smugly saccharine look, his hand slowly stroking up and down his cock, lingering at the tip before he returns down again.

“You look really good like this.”

You tilt your head and grunt in disbelief. It’s hard to believe him when you feel simultaneously so powerful and so humiliated. Even though he’s just as physically exposed as you, you still feel more vulnerable.

“Do I now?” Despite being sarcastic, you try not to come off too mean.

But then Hunter sighs out the most exasperated, “ Fuck yeah,” his chin tipping upwards as he gathers his breath, tongue darting out to lick his lips, eyes half closed while he squeezes the tip of his dick, and you’re left render less to your own attraction again.

He seems to see the disbelief in your eyes.

“Don’t you believe me, mesh’la?” He asks. You remain still. “You really need me to spell out just how hot you look right now? How sexy .”

“Hunter,” you whine.

He continues without regarding you.

“I’m trying so hard not to— fuck—“ he tenses his stomach as he tries to compose himself. “—just blow my load right now. You’re just so— so pretty and pliant and so damn obedient .” You tremble slightly, and Hunter reaches to hold the back of your neck; not before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, of course.

“Listening to my every order,” he continues, oddly affectionate.

A rush of confidence flows through your veins. You try to smirk, but instead it comes out toothy and bashful.

“That’s my job, sergeant.”

Hunter groans, his fingers curling into your neck, one pressing to your pulse point so purposefully.

“Fuck, don’t say stuff like that,” he says, shaking his head, though he doesn’t seem too displeased. “Or else this’ll be really short.”

You giggle, trying to look away, but Hunter’s grip on your neck keeps your head in place. You blink rapidly, suddenly overwhelmed by his stare. But you can’t. Move.

You whisper out a weak, “Keep talking,” before your eyes shut close. You press your palm to your clit, whining softly. Hunter uses the grip on your neck to bring you in closer, whispering slow and softly into your ear with purposeful oscillations of his lips,

“I wonder how you’ll feel around me.” You sigh out the faintest hint of his name in surprise, just as you begin to press a finger into your entrance. “I bet you’re so tight you’ll squeeze me out. Warm, and hot, and loud .”

“Fuck,” you swear, both in response to his words and to the feeling of a single finger pumping in and out of you. You’ve done little to stimulate yourself and cum, but somehow you’re already feeling an anticipated crawl up of an orgasm.

The things Hunter does to you.

“I want your mouth on my cock too.”

You clench involuntarily o over your finger, bucking your hip so your clit catches against your palm. Oh. He isn’t done.

“‘Thinking we’d both have fun if I tried a hand at commanding you around, fucked your face a little.”

Hunter tilts his head. as though expecting a response, so you nod your head — or tilt your chin down, you’re unsure— and he grins in deep settled approval at your compliance.

“How does that sound, hm?”

In a split moment of respite, while he awaits your response, you gaze down, watch his hand wrap around his cock with more insistence than before, stroke at the same rate you move. The hand on your hip drifts down to hold your hip again, rocking you with more fervor. Inadvertently, the movement forces your fingers in a new direction that grazes your g-spot just so perfectly, and you’re sighing again.

“ Oh… ”

The silence becomes too long for Hunter to bear, and he grunts.

“Answer me, mesh’la,” his tone is commanding, yet not overbearing. You appreciate it considering the sliver of shame remaining in your stomach. “Would you like that?”

“I’d–I’d like it,” you stammer out, slowly rubbing a second finger down your folds before pressing in slowly to meet the other. “A lot … fuck.”

With a tilt of his head, Hunter leans in closer, lips dangerously close to yours and for a split moment you consider pulling away.

“Something the matter?” He asks, but he knows the answer. Hunter can damn well see how your legs begin to twitch and shake more rapidly, the unsteadiness of your breathing as you simultaneously calm yourself and try to bring about your high.

“You fucking know what’s the matter, Hunter,” you bark back.

“I don’t think I’m sure exactly,” he responds dismissively. “Could you say it clearly, just in case?”

Something you hope sounds like a playful growl leaves you, but in reality, it probably sounds like a moth cat purring.

“You bastard .” There’s no real bite to your insult, and Hunter knows it, so he grins.

“I do my best.”

Your pleasure overtakes you and a shiver runs from the top of your spine to your legs, your thumb moving to properly rub your clit.

“Oh, fuck, I’m close,” you’re moaning out before you know it, voice dwindling so you’re not too loud.

“Ah,” Hunter hums, affectionately rubbing your hip. “That’s what I thought. ‘Was just making sure.”

His strokes have become more erratic and frantic, but his composure doesn’t give it away. If you weren’t to gaze down, you’d have no tell how aroused he truly was. Though perhaps that’s how he wants it to be— you’re a pretty mess while he’s the foundation to keep you upright.

Suddenly, he’s talking again, using the hand on your hip to encourage you to keep rocking.

“Come on, you pretty thing,” he rumbles. “Come for me and I’ll come for you.” Then you’re remembering what brought you to this attraction in the first place; that damn voice of his. Truly, and you mean truly, never saw yourself being in this position; situated over Hunter’s lap, touching yourself for him while he gets off to you and only you.

With one more curl of your fingers against your g-spot and your thump insistently rubbing your clit, you’re over the hill, and you’re twitching and rocking your hips over and over in arches of your back, jumbled syllables vaguely making up Hunter’s name spilling from your lips like sticky sweet sugar.

That’s when you hear it. When you glance down to catch his spend start to spill on his bare skin the bandages of his, he groans out the most pleasant incantation of your name you’ve ever heard. The moment the noise graces your ears, you’re certain that you never want to hear anything else. Or at the least, any other version of your name.

A few moments pass where you remain panting in each other's presence, his hands remaining render less at your side, rubbing up and down in uncoordinated patterns, while your hands grip his shoulders. You only start to pull away from him as you catch your bearings— and your dignity.

Hunter interrupts you by grabbing the wrist of the hand you had stuffed down your panties. He leans in closer, tongue darting out like a teasing little offer.

“Can I get a taste, mesh’la?” His voice is slow, and warm, like honey pouring into a pot of tea—in any other situation, it would sedate your nerves. But those words ignite that fuel inside you. You press your fingers still coated in slick to his lips, and he opens his mouth graciously, letting his tongue swirl around your digits with a gracious hum that vibrates your skin. Your other hand drops to his chest just before where the gash begins and holds onto it with a tremorous touch.

Hunter pulls away with a resounding ‘pop’ that makes you cringe, but not pull your eyes away.

“Delicious,” he remarks.

Your face is hot again and Hunter is smiling wide, but you’ve figured out by now he means no malicious intent with his mannerisms. His hand reaches out, cradling your face

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Hunter admires you with a glint in his eye you’ve never seen before. Sure, you’ve seen affection— plenty at this point— but there’s a tenderness to his words as he continues. It still doesn’t feel fair to not return the compliment, however.

“You’re one to talk.”

The only response you get is a scoff.

“Have you ever seen yourself?” He asks, posing the rhetoric as if you’d go out of the way to compliment yourself. It’s hard to feel anything more than pretty when you have the most handsome man trapped between your thighs.

Hunter doesn’t budge — states it like a fact, as though he truly believes it. “I always get ravenous just looking at you.”

“Oh,” You reply dumbly. “I… I didn’t think.” Your ability to talk to Hunter improves after getting off for him, it seems.

“You thought wrong,” he replies, shaking his head slightly with a smile. He leans his head down, looking better at your face before reaching with his palm to hold your cheek with hands so calloused they feel soft.

“You’re a capable woman, a great addition to the batch–” Your cheeks heat up, and he smiles. “--And I think you’re beautiful. Mesh’la. That’s what that means.”

Your hand crawls up slowly against his arm, unknowingly following the pattern of his skeleton tattoo before your much smaller hand is placed against his.

“Hunter…” You whine.

He tilts his head, that goofy smile still stuck on his face. “What?”

“You flatter me.” With a shake of your head, you unpeel yourself from his lap, and Hunter whines so, so soft as you do to the point you almost leap back onto his lap again.

“I’m being honest,” Hunter insists, lazily using the underside of his blacks to clean his spend off his skin and the bandages. You’re standing idly, stupidly, and you know he’s waiting for you to say something— and you do, you do, but you don’t know what.

“Well, thank you,” you finally answer, attempting to compose yourself. You awkwardly place your feet back into the holes of your pants, pulling them up in a swift motion that leaves you put away wet, but you care very little at this point.

You look up at Hunter, appreciatively looking over his features, before a forlorn feeling fills your stomach when you gaze down at his lips. You felt them delicately graze against your ear, wrap around your fingers to gently suck and lap at the spend coating them, yet you haven’t felt them against yours once.

He notices the look on your face.

“Something up?” He asks.

In retrospect, it must’ve been a rush of confidence through your veins after having him in such a vulnerable state only a moment ago, but you truly don’t know where your next words come from.

“Can I have a kiss?”

You expect, hope even, for Hunter to be thrown off his rhythm so he can be on the same level as you for once. Rather he takes a step closer to you, his hand methodically wrapping around the back of your neck again, thumb pressing the juncture between your jaw and throat for that extra leisure, feeling your pulse as he pulls you in for a kiss.

In your dreams, Hunter's kisses are wholly devouring. But in reality, it’s warm, tender, brimming with an underlying passion you least expected. As his lips press against yours, you can feel the velvet caress of his skin, the exchange of breath between the two of you that makes you hum into him.

His other hand rises to gently stroke your back before pulling you closer, and you feel so enveloped in his embrace that neither of you will be harmed again. You press your foreheads together and pull away, each taking slow, savoring breaths.

Truly, you never expected to be in this situation.

“...I don’t want this to be a one-time thing,” you mutter shyly, a bashful look on your face. It’s that little smile, that damned voice of his, that delivers the final blow, sending you back into his striking orbit.

“Of course,” Hunter tells you, smooth as ever. “I still haven’t gotten to be inside you.”

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justaparsec94 · 25 days ago

Text

Hyperspace

Summary: Unable to sleep during hyperspace travel on The Havoc Marauder you seek out the company of the Batch's resident sniper.

Pairing: Crosshair x fem!reader

Word Count: 3,661

Authors Note: I know that after I took that poll I said I would write a Fives one shot next.... but Crosshair has taken my writing hostage these days. Sorry, but also, not sorry! I wrote this as a prequel to my One-Shot Sniper, but I think it stands on it's own just fine if you haven't read it! Enjoy :)

************************

Over the years you’d been on hundreds of different types of ships; shuttles, Venator class attack cruisers, cargo ships, drop ships, modified attack shuttles… you name it and you had likely been on it. Honestly, you’d spent most of your adult life in space but there was still one problem that seemed to plague you no matter how many hours you’d spent aboard a ship. Hyperspace insomnia.

You tried your best to smother a sigh as you rolled over on your bunk, frustration bubbling up in you at your inability to sleep for more than an hour or two at a time. Every ship you had ever been on tried to maintain day and night cycles to aid with sleeping in hyperspace but it seemed that your body couldn’t be fooled. You’d spent many nights tossing and turning over the years, much to your annoyance. You sighed again before you sat up, deciding to abandon your current attempt at sleep before your restlessness disturbed anyone, which on such a small ship was unfortunately very easy to do.

As quietly as possible you slipped from the middle bunk on the Havoc Marauder, it was the middle of the night cycle and the ship was silent except for Wrecker’s soft snores. You took a quick look behind you to make sure you hadn’t woken anyone and thankfully Wrecker was still snoring away and Tech was also still fast asleep on the top bunk.

When you’d joined Clone Force 99 as a medic they had insisted you take one of the bunks as your own. You’d protested vehemently, as there were only three to begin with, but despite your insistence that you could all share the middle bunk it always seemed that it was free for you to use when they discussed their watch rotations each night. Your ongoing protests always seemed to fall on deaf ears though. On nights like this one, when you couldn’t even sleep you felt especially guilty.

You let out another soft sigh as you looked towards the back of the ship where Hunter was asleep in the gunner's mount. For a moment you considered waking him and insisting he take your bunk since clearly you wouldn’t be using it any time soon but even from this distance he looked peaceful and the fear of disturbing him outweighed everything else.

As quietly as possible you moved towards the midpoint of the shuttle, intent on making yourself a cup of caf. If you couldn’t sleep, you reasoned you might as well just be fully awake. You pulled two cups from one of the cupboards used for storage, there wasn’t a galley so things tended to end up in random places but you always knew where the caf was. You looked over your shoulder to make sure everyone was still asleep as the water boiled, but all three clones appeared dead to the world. You smiled softly to yourself as you poured two cups of instant caf, Crosshair was on watch and you knew from past experience if you made a cup for yourself and not him you’d get the look.

When you had joined The Bad Batch it hadn’t taken long for you to feel like one of the team. You were experienced, having spent time with the 501st, 104th, and various commando units prior to joining them and they had immediately recognized and appreciated your work. Hunter, Tech, and Wrecker quickly accepted you among their ranks and you were already on very friendly terms with all of them after only a few weeks together. Crosshair, on the other hand, was a much harder nut to crack.

The Batch’s resident sniper was quite possibly one of the grumpiest human beings you’d ever met, which was saying a lot because you’d worked with Commander Wolffe for months. It was clear that your addition to the team had been unwanted on his part at first, but over time it seemed he had begrudgingly come to accept you. These days you could even say that he was somewhat in friendly territory with you, or at least as friendly as he ever got, but it had taken a lot of work on your part to get there. It seemed your strategy of smothering him with kindness had finally worn him down somewhat.

The thing was though, despite his surly exterior you actually really liked the sniper, perhaps more than what was considered professional. He was cunning, brave, with a sly and wicked sense of humour, and it was clear that he was incredibly loyal and cared deeply about his brothers. It also didn’t hurt that he was the most handsome man you’d ever met. You tried your best to keep things strictly professional but there were times when his steely gaze would have you turning into a blushing, stuttering mess, much to your own embarrassment. You’d been around the clones since the start of the war, many who were incredibly flirty, but none had ever had the same effect on you that Crosshair did.

Pushing your emotional problems from your mind for the moment you made your way to the cockpit. Crosshair didn’t even look up from where he was sitting in the pilot's seat as you entered, he simply kept cleaning the firepuncher without even missing a beat.

“Hyperspace insomnia strikes again?” He asked lowly, still without looking up as you placed a cup of caf on the console in front of him.

“I think I might be cursed,” You said with a dramatic sigh as you slid into the co-pilot seat, wrapping both hands around your warm cup of caf as you did so. The seats in the cockpit were actually more comfortable than the bunks and you let out another soft sigh as you settled into the seat.

Crosshair finally looked up, one brow raised just slightly, “Maybe we should get you a talisman, I’m pretty sure I saw someone selling them to ward off curses the last time we were on Savareen.”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head, “I don’t think I’ve reached that level of desperation just yet.”

Crosshair shrugged, “Your loss,” before returning his attention to cleaning his rifle. You were fairly positive with the number of times you’d seen him clean the weapon that he could do it with his eyes closed. You were beginning to suspect it was more of a self-soothing habit, that weapon had to be the cleanest thing you’d ever seen. In a way though it was soothing for you to watch him do it, you’d already spent many nights awake watching him clean the rifle with a practiced ease.

You pulled your feet up onto the seat, something you only did when Tech wasn’t around since he was very particular about his ship, as you sipped your caf. You switched between watching the stars streak past and watching Crosshair out of the corner of your eye. A sense of calm washed over you in the comfortable silence of the ship.

It wasn’t until he’d finished reassembling his rifle and reached for the cup of caf you’d brought him that you spoke again, “I don’t know anything about their curse talismans but Savareen is actually pretty famous for its brandy…”

Spouting off random facts had started as a way to break the ice with him and had then become a way to pass the time when the two of you were paired off on missions, separate from the rest of the Batch due to your respective specialties. Even in the beginning, he hadn’t seemed to mind it too much, likely because he was used to hearing it from Tech, but now it seemed to be a habit you couldn’t break. You enjoyed watching his reactions and every time he’d actually engage in conversation you felt like you’d won a battle.

“Is it any good?” He asked, his tone was bored but you could tell by the way he turned his seat slightly towards you that he was actually interested.

“It’s not bad, a bit strong for my tastes,” You replied with a shrug.

“Not surprising, I’ve seen your tastes,” He said snidely but there was a glint of amusement in his dark eyes.

“Hey! I’m just not really into drinking,” You protested with a laugh. You weren’t offended at all though, you were, quite famously, a lightweight. You'd been with the Batch long enough now for them to know this about you, “I need to maintain a clear head at all times in case of a medical emergency!”

“Sure,” Crosshair responded, the dry look on his face making you laugh even harder.

You continued to chuckle softly to yourself between sips of caf as you leaned forward slightly to look at the navi-computer. You could see Crosshair watching you out of the corner of your eye and your face began to heat up slightly at the feeling of his intense gaze on you.

“Oh, we just passed Mon Cala,” You said softly, mostly to distract yourself from the butterflies that were suddenly making themselves known in your stomach. You looked back over at Crosshair who was still watching you intently as you leaned back in your seat, “Did you know there’s a type of squid that lives there that has a circular brain that their food passes through?”

Crosshair let out a snort of amusement, "Sounds like Tech.”

You slapped your hand over your mouth to stifle that bark of laughter that escaped you. It took you a moment to stop laughing before you could speak again, “I’m going to tell him you said that.”

Your eyes might have been deceiving you in the low light but you could have sworn that Crosshair was actually smiling. Well, smirking was more accurate, but in Crosshair's body language, you were going to consider that a genuine smile.

“Go ahead,” Crosshair replied flippantly, “he’d probably take it as a compliment.”

You chuckled again, shaking your head in amusement at him before finishing the last sip of your caf, “I think I’ll keep this between the two of us. I’m trying to stay in his good books so he’ll teach me how to fly the Marauder.”

Crosshair scoffed, “Good luck with that, he’ll make you memorize every piece of this ship before he even so much as lets you touch a button.”

“That’s ok!” You replied happily, as you leaned forward to set your empty cup down on the console in front of you, “I like to learn.”

Crosshair scoffed again as you continued, your tone turning teasing once more, “Plus it’ll give me more random facts to annoy you with.”

His eyes narrowed at you which only made you laugh softly, “Are you always this happy?” He asked his tone somewhere between impressed and annoyed.

“Only around the people I like,” You answered as you stretched out a foot to jab his chair with your boot playfully.

He was silent for a long moment, his gaze intense as he looked at you. The lights of the cockpit were dim but you could have almost sworn that a light flush appeared on his cheeks. You felt your own face heating up at his look. Concern that maybe you’d overstepped suddenly bubbled up in you but it vanished almost as quickly as it had come. He didn’t seem annoyed.

Eventually, he snorted, rolling his eyes before he spoke, “So, everyone then?” his tone once again characteristically grumpy.

“I don’t like everyone…” You started but then stopped, laughing at the disbelieving look Crosshair shot you, “I really didn’t like that Admiral we had to work with on the last mission.”

Crosshair’s face darkened considerably at the mention of the Admiral who was, for lack of better words, a complete and utter asshole. Both to you AND the clones.

“He seemed to be offended by the fact that I was a woman,” You continued with a chuckle.

Crosshair shook his head, clearly annoyed at just the thought of the other man, “He was di’kut.”

You smirked at the Mando’a term as he looked back over at you, the dark look on his face replaced once more with subtle amusement, “That’s only one person though…”

“Well,” You started teasingly, “Not all of us have a 30-foot-long list of people we don’t like.”

Crosshair snorted again, “It’s more like 15 feet.”

You chuckled, “Now, that IS surprising. You’re going to have to step it up, Cross.”

This time you were certain your eyes weren’t deceiving you, his face had definitely flushed slightly. His dark eyes had widened but his gaze was no less intense as he looked at you. It took you a moment to figure out what his reaction was in response to but when you did you felt your chest tighten. Although you often referred to him as such in your head, you’d never actually said the shortened form of his name out loud before. An apology for getting too familiar was on the tip of your tongue but before you could get the words out he was speaking again.

He lifted his hand in a mock salute, eyes narrowed but amused, “Mission accepted, Sunshine.”

You felt as though you might actually combust. Your face felt as if it was on fire as a nervous chuckle escaped you. You were so kriffed, no one had ever gotten under your skin like this before. You prided yourself on maintaining professional relationships so this was definitely going to be a problem. Feeling somewhat overwhelmed with the surge of emotions suddenly coursing through you, you turned your attention back to the navi-computer. According to it, you still had another 14 standard hours before you reached your next destination. With a soft sigh, you leaned back in your seat, unable to stop yourself from shyly looking over at Crosshair every few moments.

He had also leaned back in the pilot’s chair, one long leg crossing over the other. His chair was still slightly angled towards you but he was now looking out the windscreen of the Marauder, the lights of hyperspace reflecting in his dark eyes. Silence settled between the two of you but it wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, once you got over the initial shock of receiving a nickname from him, you felt more relaxed than you had in ages. Sitting with Crosshair seemed to have this effect on you more and more often these days.

It wasn’t long before your eyes began to grow heavy, the soft hum of the Marauder’s engines and the comfort of the co-pilot seat effectively lulling you to sleep. That last thing on your mind before you finally let yourself succumb to sleep was a pair of dark intense eyes.

*****

You woke with a start, thoughts a complete jumble as you sat up suddenly, looking around yourself in confusion. It took you a long moment to orient yourself because you were no longer in the cockpit of the Marauder, you were back in your bunk. You frowned as you lifted a hand to rub the sleep out of your eyes. It was obviously still early, the lights of the Marauder still dim and Wrecker was still snoring on the bunk below you, but a quick look at the chrono on your wrist confirmed it was morning. Your brow furrowed as you looked around you, Tech was no longer on the bunk above you, instead, a flash of silver hair confirmed it was now Crosshair in his place.

You were still confused as you pushed the blanket that had been covering you off and swung your legs over the edge of the bunk before quietly slipping out. Unless it was all a dream, and you were pretty sure it wasn’t, the last thing you could remember was being in the cockpit with Crosshair. So, unless you had recently started sleepwalking that meant someone had carried you back to the bunk. Not only that, but they had tucked you in too.

Your face flushed as the reality of that settled in your stomach, your heart rate suddenly picking up exponentially. While every single member of the squad were capable of carrying you back to bed and were kind enough to do so, the most obvious culprit was the one who was increasingly in your thoughts and was without a doubt becoming a problem for you. Your eyes strayed up to the top bunk to look at Crosshair, he was facing away from you but you could tell from the deep, even breaths he was taking that he was still asleep.

Heart still racing you headed towards the middle of the ship where Tech was fiddling with a piece of equipment in one of the seats in front of the console. That likely meant that Hunter was upfront keeping an eye on things, something that you were suddenly quite grateful for. You didn’t need him wondering why your heart was racing first thing in the morning, though even with the door of the cockpit between you you knew he likely could still hear it. Pushing that somewhat embarrassing thought from your mind, you greeted Tech softly as you passed by on your way to make some caf. Your mind was still reeling from the revelation that Crosshair might have carried you to bed but you were able to focus enough to successfully make 5 cups of caf. Normally, whoever was first up who wasn’t on watch would make the caf for everyone but Tech could be somewhat unreliable when his attention was divided. Caught, he smiled up at you sheepishly as you handed him a cup.

You settled yourself into one of the jump seats, pulling your knees up to your chest as you counted back from 10. Sure enough, you hadn’t even made it to 5 before the sounds of movement from the bunks reached you. It was fairly predictable but made you smile every morning nonetheless, there was nothing that could summon a clone faster than hot caf.

Also predictable was how grumpy Crosshair looked as he made his way over. Without a word or even a nod of acknowledgment, he grabbed a cup, taking a sip before moving to sit on the seat across from Tech. His tired gaze strayed over to you a moment later and you felt your face heat. You managed to give him what you hoped was a normal smile in greeting before his eyes flicked back to focusing on his caf.

“Chow time?” Wrecker asked as he ambled over, still looking like he was half asleep but the excitement at the prospect of eating was evident in his voice.

With a sigh Tech set aside his project and stood, rummaging through the cupboard for a moment before emerging with the morning's rations. He handed the first to Wrecker who had been hovering around him excitedly. In general, the clones ate more food than anyone else you knew but Wrecker in particular seemed to have a never-ending appetite. One of your first duties as the team medic had been to put in a request for more rations for ‘medical reasons’. Wrecker had actually cried with happiness when the extra crate had shown up for the first time and your ribs had ached for days from the bone-crushing hug you had received. The memory put a smile on your face as you took your own ration from Tech before he moved on to Crosshair.

“Thanks, Squid,” Crosshair’s snide comment as he took his ration bar from his brother nearly had you spitting out the sip of caf you had just taken. You looked at him with wide eyes, face heating as his gaze met yours, amusement swimming in the depths of his dark eyes. Not only that, but he was definitely smirking. Smug asshole.

Tech looked between the two of you, frowning deeply, “I suppose that comment is in relation to one of your late-night inside jokes?”

Your face grew even hotter with embarrassment at the fact that your little late-night chats with Crosshair hadn’t gone unnoticed. You spluttered, unsure of what to say as Tech simply looked between the two of you for another moment. When neither of you answered he simply rolled his eyes before returning to his seat, his own ration bar forgotten as he returned to working on the same piece of equipment.

“Please, do not enlighten me,” He continued without looking up, “I am certain it is not as funny as the two of you think it is.”

This time you weren’t able to stop the laugh that escaped you and it only got worse when you looked at Crosshair to see that he was also snickering.

Tech sighed in exasperation as he shook his head, “Children.”

It wasn’t even that funny but you found yourself struggling to regain some composure. You felt giddy, something that you had experienced in ages. And you knew without a doubt it was entirely due to the silver-haired clone who was still watching you with amusement, a subtle smirk on his face as he continued to sip his caf.

Eventually, you managed an apology to Tech that was waved off, clearly, he wasn’t actually bothered by the teasing and the rest of the morning continued on as normal. A sense of calm finally washed over you as you sat quietly, listening to the sound of The Marauder moving through space and the occasional conversation between brothers.

One thing had changed though, you now knew without a doubt that you were harbouring a crush on the team's resident snarky sniper. You were kriffed, but you found as your eyes connected with his later on that morning that it didn’t bother you as much as you had once thought it would. And you knew that the next time you couldn’t sleep you’d be right back by his side. Sometimes, you reasoned with yourself as you smiled softly over at him, you just had to live a little.

#the clone wars #fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #the clone wars fanfiction #the bad batch fanfiction #star wars the clone wars #tbb x reader #the bad batch x reader #clone x reader #tbb crosshair #the bad batch crosshair #crosshair x fem!reader #crosshair x reader #crosshair #the bad batch

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queenariesofnarnia · 1 year ago

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physical touch

the bad batch x f! reader

wc: 942

warnings: some fun teasing and that should be it. a light suggestive ending

You’re a physical touch person with a bright personality, you have been like that since you were young. Your friends enjoyed your hugs, or whenever you linked arms with them while walking. They also enjoyed how you always brightened their days. However, once you became a medic for the war, you dialed back on being physical touch. The clones did enjoy your soft hands helping them versus a droid, and your smile always put them in a better mood. You often helped the 212th or 104th, there were some rare occasions that Kix from the 501st requested you. That was until you were assigned to Clone Force 99 as their permanent medic. It took some time, but you ended up getting along with the squad great. Crosshair took longer to warm up to you, but it was expected after you first met them.

They weren’t aware of how much you liked physical touch until on a mission where you called to assist the 501st. The way many of the troopers greeted you with hugs, even Commander Tano and General Skywalker did. You walked next to the commander with your arms linked giggling. Your squad looked slightly confused, sure you were bubbly around them but never touchy.

“Is she acting different?” Wrecker asks, as they watch you laugh with your arm around the jedi commander.

“I believe she is behaving like herself” Tech says glancing at you before going back to his datapad.

“She’s different from when she is around us” Hunter answers observing you. The way your eyes lit up when you received any hug or form of physical affection.

“Looks like our little tooka doesn’t get enough attention from us. Look at how she’s eating up the regs attention.” Crosshair says taking off his helmet, putting a toothpick in his mouth. They sit away from everyone on their own, they keep an eye on you. They watch you as you lay your head in Ahsoka’s lap as she tells you a story of a mission she was just on. Then once her story is done you switch places animatedly telling her a story. Anakin calls a meeting to go over the plan for tomorrow. You stand next to Ahsoka arms still linked together. Once the meeting is over, Anakin makes his way over to you ruffling your hair.

“Missed having you around sunshine” he say before wrapping an arm around you pulling you in for a side hug.

“Missed you too trouble” you hip bump him. “How’s Pads doing?” you ask him quietly.

“She’s good, she says hi” he shoots you a wink before walking off with Rex. Leaving you and Ahsoka by the fire together.

“So, tell me, have you even tried hugging your own squad yet? They keep staring holes into the boys’ heads when they hug you or pay you any attention.” She says laughing.

“No way. I’m too scared to ask. This bunch was already affectionate when I got here” you say gesturing to the 501st. She nods in agreement, laying her head on your shoulder.

“I don’t think it’ll hurt to ask” she tells you looking up at your squad. You look over at them too and give a small smile. Wrecker happily waves at you. “Go over there and spend some time with them. You know where to find me if they say no” she removes her head and pushes you up. As you walk across camp saying hi to the troopers that spoke to you, Fives stops you.

“You need a cuddle buddy tonight sunshine?” He asks flirtatiously. You laugh at his antics.

“Not tonight hon. I’ll find you if I change my mind” you continue towards your squad. Sitting next to Wrecker when you make it to them. “Hi boys” you greet them with your signature smile.

“ You finally had enough of the regs?” Crosshair hissed. You were a bit confused. You knew they didn’t like regular clones, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t.

“Is there a problem?” You ask looking at each of them.

“Yes” Crosshair quickly answered. “All this affection you’re suddenly giving to regs.” he points his toothpick at you.

“All you had to do is ask for a hug mesh’la” Wrecker says wrapping his arm around you, the Mando’a term of endearment rolling off his tongue sweetly.

“Are we not sufficient enough to provide you physical affection?” Tech asked, as he finally tucks his datapad away.

“Do we not give you the attention you need?” Hunter’s husky voice sent a shiver down your spine. You were getting flustered.

“What do you mean? I am getting enough attention” you say trying not to stumble over your words.

“Is our little tooka shy all of a sudden?” Crosshair mockingly asks.

“You were just blossoming from the attention you were receiving” Hunter says scooting closer to you.

“The way her pupils are dilated now, she is enjoying our attention more than what she was previously receiving” Tech points out. You stand up quickly not wanted to keep facing the teasing.

“I’m going to sleep on the Marauder” you announce walking away. They each get up as well.

“Not without us” Wrecker says laughing. You hide your face in your hands heading in the direction of the ship. A hand was placed on your back guiding you.

“Maybe you won’t get sleep little tooka” Crosshair whispered in your ear. You groan due to embarrassment.

“Save your noises for later mesh’la” Hunter said from the other side of Crosshair.

“I’ll have to record the noises she’ll make later” Tech says excitedly from your left side. The others chuckle at you, agreeing with him.

#tech x reader #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch #wrecker x reader #tbb hunter x reader #tbb crosshair x reader #tbb tech #crosshair x reader #hunter x reader

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meshla-cyarika · 6 months ago

Text

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wanderer-six · 10 months ago

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Late Night

AN: this tweet changed my life I could not stop thinking about this i needed to write this i need you all to b thinking about this too

Relationships: Hunter x Fem!Jedi Reader

Summary: You and Hunter have been together for years now, living out a happy life on Pabu. You're spending the night together, and time has done nothing to quell your desires.

WARNINGS: unprotected p in v, orgasm denial, edging (it's ok he can take it), old man hunter im dedd 18+ MINORS DNI

Word Count: 2k I did not proofread this apologies in advance if it's bad I hope u can at least get behind the Vibes u feel me

It’s another beautiful night on Pabu. The sun set over the island hours ago, and the moon now bathes the ocean in shimmering silver. As the day wound down, so too did the residents; the paths that bustle by day are all but empty now as everyone settles in for a peaceful night.

All around the island, there is quiet. The only sounds you hear now are the gentle drone of the waves, and his heavy breathing.

Like all the others, you and Hunter retired to your bungalow, but rest is far from your minds. In the dark of your bedroom, you and him are bare, chasing off any chill from the evening air with each other’s warmth. Hunter, the man you’ve loved for a lifetime, is beneath you now. You balance your hands on his broad shoulders, riding him slowly, wonderfully, biting your lip as he meets your gaze with weary eyes.

Even after all these years, making love to him still feels as amazing as it did the very first night you shared together. Each roll of your hips fills you with more of him, and you can’t help but whimper when he hits every spot you love. It seems he hasn’t had his fill of you, either. Though time has had its effects on Hunter, it certainly hasn’t changed the way he yearns for you. Even now, he hangs on your every movement, his vigilant eyes darting between your pleasured expressions and your hips taking his cock.

Deciding he’s gotten a little too comfortable, you descend onto his length at a different angle, allowing him to reach deeper than before. At the sudden sensation, a groan catches in his chest. Between his labored breaths, he chuckles.

“You feel so fucking good, cyar’ika…”

Humming through a smile, you rest your forehead on his.

“You’re one to talk, handsome…” Your fingers trail through his hair, still just as long as when you first met, but having faded to grey some time ago. “I can’t get enough of you.”

That confident, effortless smirk tugs at his lips. You’ve seen it a thousand times, yet each time he wears it, heat still rises beneath your cheeks.

“Heh… is that so?” Though his once defined, sharp muscles have softened from years of respite on the island, he still feels as strong as ever when he grips at your hips. “I guess time hasn’t gotten the best of me in every way…”

At this, it’s your turn to grin. You know it’s been a few long years since the two of you last saw combat; with the clones’ advanced aging, those years have counted double for him. But even if you’re older than you once were, you know you still have plenty of time left.

And it’s when Hunter starts to pretend as though he’s moments from death’s door that you like to remind him what he’s still capable of.

Without warning, you melt against Hunter, draping your arms over his shoulders and crashing your lips onto his. His tongue dances with yours, and as his arms hold you flush against him by your waist, you begin to roll your hips more quickly. You move faster, harder, riding him for all he’s worth. You revel in every little noise he makes, the way his eyes flutter shut in pure bliss. His fingers tense, clinging to your hips so desperately as to leave bruises.

In the Force, you feel how close he is. How near he is to losing himself fully in you…

… and right before he hits his peak, you lift yourself off of him, robbing him of the only thing he craves in that moment.

Hunter utters a groan, wincing through the torment of his denied release. He leans his head back against the wall, and you can feel his heart kicking fast against his chest.

“F-Fuck…” he hisses through gritted teeth.

Despite his anguish, you can only grin. You lean forward, lavishing him with gentle kisses as he settles down.

“Easy, Sergeant,” you sing. “I’m not done with you yet.”

As you kneel over him, he dares to glance between your legs. You’re so tantalizingly close to his aching length, and though his desperation is clear on his face, he knows better than to think you’ll be so generous. Utterly helpless, he shakes his head.

“I’m too old for you to be teasing me like this…” he mutters, a weak smile tugging at his lips. You roll your eyes at his self-admonishment.

“Oh, enough…” With a deep exhale, you rest your forehead against his, and your eyes fall shut as you bask in the feeling of him. For every experience you’ve had in every corner of the galaxy, nothing compares to having Hunter all to yourself. “I know you can handle it, even if we may not be young anymore…”

Though he’s clearly just as lost in your attentions, this remark has him prop an eye open to sneer at you.

“‘We’?” he repeats with a chuckle. Sighing, he runs his rough hands up the curves of your waist. “You’ve still got your whole life ahead of you—even if you’re wasting it torturing an old clone like me…”

Your eyes warm, and you bite your lip. With a dangerous twist of your hips, you grind against him, earning a deep grumble from Hunter’s chest. Your lips linger by his ear.

“I think I know my Hunter by now…” you purr, voice low enough to make him shiver, “and if there’s one thing he likes, it’s a challenge.”

Without a word of warning, you lower yourself back onto his cock, taking him deep inside as you begin riding him again. Hunter goes rigid, fumbling for purchase against your hips as they overwhelm him with pleasure. Nothing could ever thrill you more than the way he touches you. For as long as you’ve been together, he’s known exactly how to make your body sing for him. Even now, a desperate mess beneath you, his hands run along your skin purely by instinct.

And luckily, you know his body just as well.

Again, you fuck him harder. Again, you feel the tension in his core, the white-hot release building inside of him…

Again, you stop just short, lifting off of him right before he can come.

Your poor sergeant whines again, his head lolling back as his eyes pinch shut. Between your legs, his cock throbs, twitching in desperate need for the stimulation you’ve so cruelly deprived him of.

“A-ah…!” Between his heavy breaths, chest rising and falling arduously, he moans in complaint. “You’re… fuck, you’re driving me crazy…”

While he grovels in such a sorry state, you’re no worse for wear at all. You place kiss after languid kiss up his neck, tickling his skin with your breath.

“I can keep this up all night, handsome…” Pulling away just enough to catch his eye, you don a mischievous grin. “I think you can, too.”

In the face of your taunting, Hunter surprises you when his smile softens. He cups your face with a trembling hand, running his thumb gently along your cheek. You lean into his touch, admittedly falling victim to his sudden tenderness.

“Tell me…” he asks, “what’s it gonna take for you to let me off, huh?”

You giggle, leaning forward to nuzzle your nose against his.

“Hm… I don’t know,” you sigh, playing coy. “I think you might just be too old to manage what I have in mind…~”

With a chuckle, he pinches your cheek. “Try me.”

Pulling away just enough to meet his eyes, you flash him a charming grin.

“Tell me you love me.”

Through his lust-filled gaze, Hunter raises an eyebrow above a half-smirk.

“What… that’s all?”

You nod. “Mm-hm. That is… if you think you can handle—”

You’re cut off when Hunter’s lips catch yours, meeting you in a kiss so deep you nearly feel like you’re drowning. His tongue toys with yours, so desperate to taste you it makes heat flood beneath your cheeks. Still, you can’t help but smile against him. Though Hunter likes to act as though he’s old and grey, now, you know he’s far from gone. In moments like these, you feel the fire that’s burned inside him since the very beginning. It hasn’t faded in the slightest. You know it never will.

When he finally pulls away, he doesn’t stray far, lips ghosting over yours as he holds your gaze with intense eyes.

“I love you, cyar’ika,” he breathes, a solemn swear. “Always have… always will.”

For the first time that night, it seems you’re the one on the backfoot. Eyes wide and innocent, you’re touched by the sincerity of his words. You know Hunter, know that he does everything to the fullest. But hearing for certain that his passion would be yours for as long as you both have left… your heart can scarcely take it.

With sudden desperation, you press your lips to his, and you bury his cock in your warmth. He moans into your mouth, and you moan back, losing yourself to the feeling as you ride him again. Tense hands grip at every part of you—your waist, your ass, your shoulders—leaving marks on your skin as he tries in vain to bear the sensation. But it isn’t long until his resolve begins to break.

As a gasp catches in Hunter’s throat, his lips break from yours.

“F-Fuck, cyar’ika… I’m gonna…”

You already know. You feel his energy shifting—you feel how close he is. His delayed release has only built up to something more intense… but this time, you don’t back off. You indulge him, rolling your hips even faster than before. With what little stamina he has left tonight, he’s thrusting into you, and you whimper aloud as he hits every perfect spot inside you. You’re as close as he is…

And when you reach your climax, you’re amazed he can stay conscious.

Hunter buries himself to the hilt in your cunt, coming deep inside you. Your orgasm milks him for every last drop, and given the way you’ve tormented him tonight, he has plenty to give. By the time you’ve sucked him dry, his overstimulated cock still twitching in your walls, he’s quivering beneath you, completely and utterly spent. He breathes as heavy as he would during the war, on missions that would see him running for hours… You’re sure he’ll ache just as badly, come morning.

After taking a moment to recover, Hunter opens his eyes, gazing up at you with a precious smile. Gingerly, you tuck his hair behind his ears, supporting his head as you meet him in a feather-light kiss.

“I love you, too, Hunter…” you hum, voice barely above a whisper. “Always have, always will.”

The smile he wears is genuine. He tilts his head to catch your hand, placing a kiss on your palm.

“I’m glad. I don’t know what I’d do without you, cyar’ika.” He pauses, then chuckles bitterly as he closes his eyes again. “Even if you’re liable to kill me, putting me through nights like this…”

Your grin turns more playful. Slowly, you lift yourself off of Hunter, relishing the way he shivers as his length falls out of you.

“Be thankful I’m so generous,” you tease as you lay beside him. You rest your head on his chest, sighing in utter contentment. “If I weren’t, you would be in for another round… or ten.”

Hunter chuckles, voice reverberating in his broad chest in a way that soothes you more than anything else could. Arm wrapped around you, he traces idle shapes on your skin.

“I’m sure you’ll think of something meaner to treat me to when we wake up tomorrow,” he sighs. His gentle lips press to your forehead. “But for now, let me get some rest, huh?”

Giggling, you nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck.

“Hm… all right. But only because I love you so much.”

The warm night air, the distant roar of the waves, the embrace of the man you’ll always love… you can’t imagine anything more perfect. But as always, Hunter finds a way to make the greatest things even greater.

“I love you more, cyar’ika. Always.”

AN: Thank you as always for reading mmwah mwah I hope you enjoy, always stay edging that old man ♥♥

#tbb x reader #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch x you #hunter x reader #hunter tbb #tbb hunter x reader #tbb smut #hunter/reader #reader insert #W6fic

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green-alm0nd · 10 months ago

Note

Love your writing so much! Can you please do some separate headcanons of the bad batch who get assigned a female!general who’s super sweet and a total scaredy cat? Because of this, they’re SUPER protective (and jealous) of their dear general, especially when it comes to other regs! And of course as time passes, they begin to develop a crush on her

Hello! Of course I can! :p

[The Bad Batch x Jedi!fem!reader (headcanons)]: "I could never choose to love another"

----

Summary:

In which the Bad Batch member you're in love with falls for you too.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: protective Batch, jealousy, fluff, mild mentions of Crosshair having a panic attack, and that's pretty much it. Not proofread.

Enjoy!

A/N: Thank you <3 and I hope you enjoy your request!

----

HUNTER:

When Hunter first heard of becoming a general's squadron, he couldn't believe it. He and his brothers had been rejected by the Republic (in general), and suddenly, someone wants five clones on their squad? Unbelievable.

However, Hunter knew you were different when you first showed up and tripped over your own Jedi robe, got up, smiled and extended a hand to him. There was something in your eyes that made you different from the rest of the Jedi.

The more time he spent with you, the more time he got to meet you. At first, it was the usual jokes to break the ice; usual, playful banter; calm nights talking to his brothers... That's when Hunter saw your sweet side. There's a point where he started calling you by your real name whenever you were alone.

He literally became your protector, keeping you out of trouble whenever he could, avoiding food cantina fights so that you wouldn't get hurt, etc. He knows you can defend yourself, but there was always something that made him protective over you and his brothers.

Another reason you gave Hunter to be more protective over you was the fact that you got scared pretty easy. And, cherry on top, whenever Hunter saw you with regs, he'd become jealous and probably try to get you away from the regs as much as possible.

He didn't make it super obvious, of course. Then, he realised he might have fallen for you. However, he knew it was unprofessional, so he'd keep it to himself.

Though, he could not hide the slight blush that came over his face whenever you teasingly brushed your fingers against his calloused hands.

ECHO:

Now, Echo was happy his squad assigned to a new general. Ever since Skako Minor, he felt like the Republic had done little to nothing to try make him feel normal again. However, he was insecure about his general seeing him and rejecting him in some way.

Nonetheless, he immediately fell for you when he saw your bright smile, as your eyes came in contact with his.

Unlike Hunter, who took a long time to realise he had fallen for someone, Echo had the love-at-first-sight type of problem and he swore he'd keep it to himself. It was unprofessional and you were his general.

He found it endearing to see how scared you were of basically everything: bugs, surprise hugs, animals... However, that did not stop him from blushing every time you jumped in surprise and held his shoulders for support.

He's definitely protective over you, but he knows you can handle things. He trusts you completely and knows you won't get in trouble. He's not possessive nor jealous in any way (he's too sweet to be possessive).

Yet, he still feels a bit jealous when you prefer talking to the regs and sometimes will try to make a friendly conversation so as to keep you with him.

Again, Echo knows what he's doing. He knows he shouldn't confess to a person that's a higher rank than him.

But, his face turns red when your hands rest on his waist for a few seconds.

WRECKER:

Let's all be honest, Wrecker does not care who you are, as long as you like hugs. Because Wrecker gives lots of those.

When he first saw you arm wrestling a reg and you won, this man was ready to spar with you for the rest of his life. You were also very nice and polite.

I reckon Wrecker laughs when you get scared. Though, he does become serious and protective when there's something truly menacing happening.

He will not be bothered to beat up any reg if they're disrespectful or just mean. You're one of his only friends besides his brothers, and he feels the need to protect you.

He found out he was probably in love with you because 1) He asked Tech, and 2) He felt something pleasant in his stomach whenever you laughed.

Wrecker won't hesitate to show his love for you: whether it's by hugging, congratulate you for anything you do, let you sleep with his tooka doll...This man is not ashamed of showing how much he loves you.

He knows he shouldn't date someone in the middle of the war, but he can't help but hug you from behind and wishing you good luck whenever you go on a mission that's not with them.

TECH:

At first, Tech did not care who you were. To him, you were just another Jedi general. He hadn't heard from you, so he thought you'd want Clone Force 99 for their strength and not their personality.

Tech didn't pay much attention to you at first. But, one day, he started rambling about hyperdrives and noticed you listening. You were paying full attention and he couldn't help but blush a little.

This smart clone will be a tad surprised at how much of a scaredy cat you are. Maybe, you'll receive a comment or two from Tech, though they are harmless.

This is one of the reasons why Tech became overprotective. He started placing you behind him whenever something -or someone dangerous would happen to be there.

And, around the regs, Tech will get into a verbal fight whether they're mean or not. He registers the feeling he feels as jealous, and he will try anything to get rid of it.

That's when he realises that jealousy is laced with having feelings for someone. And he figured it was you since he felt jealousy when you were with other regs.

Tech knows he's risking his and your position if anything happened between your two, so he'll stick to telling you how beautiful you are through flowers.

CROSSHAIR:

Like Tech, Crosshair doesn't care either about who you are. He figures you didn't want to be a general for Clone Force 99 and you'd probably run away out of fear when you saw them.

At the sight of you, he couldn't deny you were beautiful. And he was genuinely surprised at you kindness, making him slightly fond of you the more time you two spent together.

Time passed, and he hated you for making him feel weird stuff on his stomach, yet he admired your sweetness towards anyone you met. This made you naive, but also endearing.

Cross will mock you for being a scaredy cat, but in reality, he will become more protective of you. Whenever a reg approached you, he was right behind you. He will listen what you are talking about, and, if things went bad, he will immediately come out of the shadows to protect you.

When he realises he's fallen for you, he tries to deny it and refuse to accept him. But the way you smile, the way you fight, and the way you are in general will keep him grounded.

There's a point where he won't deny it, and give subtle touches or a gentle nudge whenever he's around you.

Crosshair does not give a damn about the rules and the order, but he knows you'd risk everything, so he keeps his hands to himself most of the time (besides when he's doing the things from the prior paragraph).

However, the annoying butterflies will appear again when you stand opposite him whenever he's having a panic attack and you help him.

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I hope you like it, anon :p

#the bad batch #star wars #bad batch #the bad batch x reader #star wars tbb #bad batch hunter #hunter the bad batch #tbb tech x reader #tbb #tbb wrecker x reader #tbb echo #tbb echo x reader #crosshair the bad batch #crosshair x reader #the bad batch headcanons

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nahoney22 · 11 months ago

Note

Congrats on 4,500k honey! Now I know you’ve already done this before but please I beg of you can we have some more first kisses with the bad batch? 🥹 it’s okay if you choose not to! Many thanks 💜

First Kisses 2.0

All Bad Batch Boys X Female Reader (can be read as GN)

Warnings: First Cheek and Lip Kisses with The Bad Batch. Mostly Fluff, Spontaneous Kisses, Some Angsty Kisses. Injury to Reader. Can also be read as GN. Not Proofread, A Little Rushed.

Authors note: of course you can bestie! Enjoy! 😚 some fluff before the finale! 😭

First instalment

Echo 💋

On the cheek:

“Echo, I’m fine. Honestly.” You laugh softly, watching as the Clone inspects every inch of your skin for injuries after a very narrow miss on the last mission.

"You narrowly escaped a blast," he remarks, frustration laced with also relief.

"And I owe that to you," you counter, recalling his swift rescue that spared you from harm.

Perched on the control panel, your legs swing gently as he inspects your hand, searching for any sign shrapnel pieces. With a soft smile, you meet his gaze, “Is there anyway I can thank you?” You ask only for your curiosity to be piqued by his hesitation.

His expression shifts, a mixture of surprise and uncertainty crossing his features. "I... I'm not sure. You don't have to," he stammers, his composure momentarily faltering under your gaze.

"But I want to," you insist, your eyes alight with sincerity as you hold his gaze.

“Do you… have something in mind?" he asks, his voice betraying a hint of anticipation as he tidies up the supplies.

After a moment's contemplation, an idea forms in your mind. "Actually, yes."

As he stands before you, you extend a finger, silently urging him closer. His eyes widen in anticipation, and he leans in, allowing you to press a tender kiss to his cheek when he’s close enough. "Thank you, Echo," you murmur softly, pulling back to gauge his reaction.

His bewilderment is evident, but a flicker of warmth spreads across his features. "That's... that's okay. Anytime.”

On the lips:

Okay, this time was too close.

In the dim light of your bunk, the weight of the recent mission hangs heavy in the air, amplified by the throbbing pain in your head. Echo's presence is comforting. Yet, he doesn’t say a word to you.

As he fusses over you, checking your bandages a sense of frustration and exhaustion settles over you and unable to bear the silence any longer, you muster the strength to voice your concern.

"Echo, what's wrong?" you inquire softly, your voice strained from the pain, as he prepares to leave your side.

He pauses, his movements faltering as he turns back to you, his expression a mixture of anger and regret. "You could have been killed," he breathes out heavily, his words carrying a weight to it.

"I know," you respond with a weary smile, "but I'm still here."

His gaze softens as he kneels before you, his hand instinctively finding solace in the strands of your hair. "I should have protected you better," he murmurs.

You shake your head gently, wincing at the pain. "You would have risked your life," you remind him softly.

His lips part, a flicker of resolve in his eyes as he meets your gaze. "For you, I would," he admits, his voice filled with unwavering determination. "I... I care a lot about you."

A rush of warmth floods your chest at his confession, your heart pounding in response. "Don't say that..." you protest weakly, your voice barely above a whisper.

"But it's true," he insists, his gaze unwavering as he lays bare his emotions. "I really care for you."

You fall silent, the weight of his words sinking in, before a smile curves your lips. With a gentle touch, you cup his cheek, silently urging him closer. In a moment of shared understanding, he leans in, expecting another kiss on his cheek. Yet, to his soft surprise, your lips find his, the kiss tender and fleeting.

"I care for you too," you whisper against his lips, the words a promise.

He gasps at your touch, his hand and scomp gently cradling your face as he moves his lips along with yours, knowing that he could never live another day without the feeling of your kiss again.

Hunter 💋

On the cheek:

"Have you found what you're looking for?" Hunter's voice breaks the tranquility as he joins you amidst the foliage, his gaze scanning the array of plants as he kneels beside you.

"Not yet," you reply with a hint of disappointment, your passion for herbalism driving your search for a rare medicinal herb, a desperate need since resources are now scarce since being on the run.

Hunter nods, but a subtle sheepishness colours his demeanor, his eyes evading yours as he fidgets slightly. Sensing his unease, you pause and turn to him. "Hunter, is everything alright?" you ask softly.

He hesitates for a moment before extending a hand, revealing a delicate flower nestled between his fingers. "I, uh, came across this and thought it might look nice in your hair," he mumbles, his words tinged with a rare vulnerability.

Surprised by his gesture, you accept the flower with a smile, touched by his unexpected sweetness. "Really?" you murmur, tucking the bloom into your hair. "That's incredibly thoughtful of you, Hunter. Thank you."

A warmth tints your cheeks before you find yourself leaning in, planting a kiss on his cheek. His sharp inhale of breath at the touch had you pulling back, completely embarrassed by your reaction. "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to—" you begin, flustered by your own boldness.

But Hunter's warm smile reassures you, his eyes crinkling with fondness. "I didn't mind at all. I'm just glad you liked it.”

In the quiet intimacy of the moment, a fleeting connection sparks between you both, a silent exchange of unspoken emotions. A shiver dances down your spine as his gaze locks with yours, a subtle tension simmering between you.

Caught in the moment, your eyes inadvertently drift to his lips, mirroring the silent invitation reflected in his own gaze. A shared understanding passes between you.

With a gentle resolve, Hunter closes the distance between you, his breath mingling with yours as his nose brushes against yours.

“Hunter, we are ready to go," Tech's voice interrupts the moment through a comm, breaking the spell that held you captive. With a reluctant sigh, you exchange a brief glance, silently acknowledging that this was not the right time.

On the lips:

In the quiet sanctuary of the ship, you find yourself caught in a spell, twirling the flower in your hair that Hunter had given you, the memory of his gaze lingering like a sweet melody in your mind. From across the ship, his eyes, full of unspoken words, steal glances at you, silent conversation being said.

As the others drift off to sleep, Hunter finally approaches, his voice a low murmur that sends butterflies dancing in your stomach. Leaning against the wall, his proximity intoxicates you, the air thick with excitement.

"We should talk about earlier," he begins, his voice intoxicating.

Summoning courage you didn't know you had, you meet his gaze, your heart pounding with adoration. "Or perhaps we could finish what we started?" you suggest, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

A spark of excitement lights up his eyes, his smile soft. "I like that idea," he murmurs, his hand finding its place on your hip, drawing you closer.

With a daring smile, you lean in, your lips meeting his in a tender kiss that sends your mind reeling. Warm, gentle lips slot perfectly between your own, hands tangling in his hair as you both try to stay as quiet as possible so the others don’t wake up.

Wrecker 💋

On the cheek:

"Hey, do ya want to grab a bite to eat or somethin’?" Wrecker's voice breaks through your thoughts, drawing your attention to his familiar grin.

"That sounds great!" you respond eagerly, accepting his hand as he effortlessly helps you up from the grass before you both set off, the ease of conversation flowing between you.

As you’re walking, you can't ignore the way his eyes had lit up in your presence, a warmth spreading through you at the thought of him liking you more than a friend.

Entering the bustling market, a myriad of tantalising scents fills the air, but your senses are drawn to a fruity and fragrant cuisine. "Wanna try this one?" you suggest, gesturing towards the inviting stall.

"Definitely. Smells delicious!" Wrecker agrees, but before you can reach for your credits, his large hand gently stops you.

"I'll get it. My treat," he insists, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

"Are you sure?" you ask softly, touched by his gesture.

"Positive," he affirms with a grin.

Grateful for his kindness, you lean up to his height, planting a soft kiss on his scarred cheek. "Thank you," you murmur, the warmth of his smile melting your heart.

Wide-eyed, Wrecker stares at you in surprise, his laughter bubbling up at your unexpected gesture. "Woah! What was that for?"

"For being sweet enough to treat me," you explain with a grin, accepting the food from the vendor as you continue your stroll through the market.

"If a kiss is the price, I should treat ya more often," Wrecker jokes, but beneath his playful tone, you can't help but wonder if there's a hint of truth to his words. Only time will tell.

On the Lips:

The memory of that innocent kiss on Wrecker's cheek lingers, replaying over and over in your mind. Despite its simplicity, you couldn't shake the excited reaction it had evoked from him.

One day, as you meticulously clean your gear and Wrecker's, he enters the ship with a grin, his gaze finding yours before he approaches you. "You don't have to do tha’ for me," he chuckles, taking a seat in front of you and admiring his now gleaming helmet.

"I know," you reply simply, shrugging. "I just wanted to."

Wrecker watches you for a moment, his gaze softening as he meets your eyes, a warmth spreading through your cheeks. "What are you looking at?" you ask playfully.

"Someone pretty," he blurts out, his admission catching you off guard, but you can't help but giggle as he becomes flustered.

"Well, you're not too bad yourself, handsome," you tease, a hint of truth underlying your words. His shy laughter only adds to the warmth that fills the air between you.

As the silence envelops you, Wrecker takes a deep breath, his movements deliberate as he inches closer. "Sorry, I-I just need to try something," he mutters, cupping your cheek gently before leaning in to capture your lips in a soft kiss.

Surprised but eager, you reciprocate almost immediately, the helmet in your hand forgotten as it drops with a thud. Giggles escape your lips as Wrecker pulls you into his lap, his kisses igniting a fire within you.

"What was that for?" you ask breathlessly as you finally part, your heart racing with exhilaration.

"I wanted to say thank you for cleaning my stuff," he replies with a playful grin, his eyes sparkling with warmth and affection. Sometimes, the simplest gestures can lead to the most unforgettable moments.

Tech 💋

On the cheek:

For days, you've wrestled with the decision to approach Tech about your broken data pad. But his constant busyness always seemed to deter you, and you didn’t want to burden him with your trivial problem.

But as you sit there, struggling with the malfunctioning device, you can't help but feel a pang of frustration. With a sigh, you finally gather the courage to seek out Tech's assistance, despite your reluctance.

Approaching him tentatively, you clear your throat to get his attention. "Um, Tech? Do you have a moment?" you ask, your voice hesitant.

Tech looks up from his screen, his gaze attentive as he assesses your expression. "Rarely. But what can I help you with?"

With a sheepish smile, you explain the issue with your datapad, feeling embarrassed by your own incompetence. But to your luck, Tech doesn't scold or dismiss you. Instead, he nods understandingly, taking the device from your hands with a gentle reassurance.

"I'll take care of it," he assures you, his fingers deftly working their magic as he sets to work on the repairs.

As you watch him, a wave of gratitude washes over you, mingled with a hint of admiration for his skill, something you always admired. And when he finally presents the fully repaired datapad back to you, a sense of relief floods your senses.

"Thank you, Tech," you murmur softly, truly appreciative.

His eyes meet yours, a warm smile gracing his features. "You're welcome," he replies simply, his attention already drifting back to his work.

But before you can stop yourself, a spontaneous impulse overtakes you. Leaning forward, you press a shy kiss to his cheek, the gesture a silent expression of gratitude and affection.

Tech blinks in surprise, his mouth agape but no words come out as he meets your gaze, his expression a mix of astonishment and warmth. "Uh, thank you," he stammers, bashful. Cute. He’s always been cute.

Embarrassed by your boldness, you quickly retreat, a shy smile gracing your lips as you leave.

On the lips:

The next day a cloud of uncertainty hangs over you. Despite the warmth of the moment of kissing Tech briefly on the cheek, a nagging doubt gnaws at you, fueled by Tech's seemingly distant behaviour.

You can't shake the feeling that you may have overstepped, that your spontaneous gesture may have made him uncomfortable.

Meanwhile, Tech grapples with his own turmoil, his thoughts consumed by the memory of your kiss. Despite the warmth it sparked in him, a newfound shyness overtakes him, leaving him unsure of how to proceed. He was never good at explaining his feelings anyway and so to express his own feelings, specifically about wanting to kiss you and reciprocate the affection you showed him.

Days then pass of awkward glances and silent hello’s until Tech finally has enough of waiting.

One evening, as the ship settles into a quiet lull, you find yourself alone with Tech in the dim glow of the cockpit.

Heart pounding, you brace yourself for the inevitable confrontation, prepared to face the consequences of your actions. But to your surprise, Tech's gaze meets yours, his eyes filled with a familiar warmth that always made you smile.

"Hello," he begins, his voice soft yet determined. "I have been meaning to talk to you."

You swallow nervously, bracing yourself for his response. “Good, because I feel like I’ve-.” But before you can utter another word, Tech steps closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek.

"I want you to know," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, "that the kiss you gave me... it meant a lot to me."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, relief flooding through you as you realise that perhaps your fears were unnecessary all along.

"Clearly, I have been trying to find the right time to tell you," Tech continues, his gaze unwavering as he closes the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in a tender, long-awaited kiss, “that I have wanted to kiss you for a long time.”

Your arms wrap around him, sighing into his kiss with a soft smile that makes your heart soar. His lips were timid yet they were radiating a warmth that made you want more. “All you had to do was ask.” You grin against his lips, melting as he holds you tight.

Crosshair 💋

On the cheek:

Amidst the chaos of a perilous mission, Crosshair's swift actions save you from harm. As the dust settles and the adrenaline fades, a palpable tension hangs in the air, his mood dark and brooding as he glares into the distance.

"Thanks," you murmur softly, your voice filled with genuine gratitude as you meet his gaze when you stand up, brushing the dust from your hands.

But before he can respond, an impulse overtakes you, and without thinking, you lean forward and press a swift kiss to his chiselled cheek.

Crosshair's expression remains impassive, his eyes betraying a hint of surprise before returning to their usual steely resolve. He offers no response, his silence a barrier that leaves you feeling embarrassed at your stupid action.

What a stupid idea.

On the lips:

As you begin to walk away, a surge of longing grips him, an undeniable pull drawing him back to you. With determined strides, he spins you around, his hand gripping your arm as he gazes into your eyes with a mixture of frustration and desire.

"What was that for?" he growls, his voice laced with a raw intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.

Unable to suppress the rush of emotion coursing through you, you meet his gaze. Soft and almost vulnerable. "F-for saving my life," you reply, your voice steady despite the tremble in your heart.

Crosshair's features soften, a flicker of vulnerability shining through the mask of stoicism. He hardly thinks himself but he leans in, his lips capturing yours in a passionate kiss that has you gasping for breath.

“Crosshair,” you whimper as you melt into his embrace, realising that beneath his moody exterior lay a heart of gold; a heart that beats in rhythm with your own.

“I’m here,” he whispers, his rifle falling from his grasp as his hands grip onto your hips as he holds you close, just taking in the moment that neither of you wanted to end.

Good luck for the finale everyone🩵

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#the bad batch #bad batch eve #the bad batch x reader #tbb x reader #nahoney22 writes #tbb #tech x reader #echo x reader #Hunter x reader #wrecker x reader #crosshair x reader

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