#echo clone wars

Has it ever occured to you that thigh riding Echo is lwk temperature play bcs his legs are made of steel

wait ty for bringing this to my attention bc i have always been a tad confused about his anatomy post-skako...like are his prosthetics from the knee down or ...??

like im riding that shit regardless

but if someone can let me know that would be helpful LOLLL as a star wars writer i feel like i'm in a constant state of confusion abt the canon. you are def onto something tho we must capitalize on this information...for research purposes ofc...

↓ (this is what i usually reference but i still can't tell tbh)

Happy Star Wars Day 🗣️‼️‼️‼️

In honor of the occasion, here’s some pics of the Echo cosplay I made a billion (4) years ago and still need to repair 💀

no worries if not, have a great day/night! :)

echo nsfw headcanons a/n: tysm, hope u have a great day/night as well!

afab reader warnings: ⚠️ explicit sexual content ⚠️

bf!echo who always reaches for your hand and laces your fingers together, whether you're sucking him off or taking him deep and slow in bed, his thumb caressing back and forth as he completely wrecks you

bf!echo who struggles with insomnia and often stays awake for multiple days in a row, but sex with you gives him the relaxation he didn't know he could experience, and he gets through the night without waking up once

bf!echo who has a low sex drive but can be constantly found with his head buried between your legs, taking his time as he fucks you with his tongue, and sometimes prefers this over piv

bf!echo whose ego doesn't get hurt when you use toys, and in fact encourages it/wants to learn how to use them on you

bf!echo who was never one to get flustered/turned on easily until he fell for you, his whole face blowing up in a scarlet red when he catches you changing in front of him or feels your hands on him

bf!echo who is hesitant to be needy, but loves when you slowly massage his cock after a long, stressful day and always kisses your hand after you're done

bf!echo who laughs for no reason during a makeout session, the low sound of his chuckle making an appearance between kisses as he pulls you closer and nibbles on your bottom lip

bf!echo who is the best with embarrassing, realistic slip-ups during sex and never makes you feel bad for them, he's all about that imperfection and intimacy and it brings you closer together

bf!echo who is so strictly private about his sex life with you that he gets angry when his brothers/others try to sneakily joke their way into figuring out your business

bf!echo who pushes his thigh between your legs and rocks back and forth when you're kissing him on his lap, hearing your breathing get shakier as your kisses get sloppier

bf!echo who likes the feeling of a boner and often tries to see how long he can put up with the tight feeling in his pants before he gives in

bf!echo who feels a little guilty when he touches himself to the thought of you, but the pictures you send to him are hard for him to resist

bf!echo who only leaves hickeys in places he would be able to see, like your chest and inner thighs, and always kisses them when you're lying in bed together

bf!echo who was mortified when you teasingly asked him what ✨other✨ ways he could put his scomp link to use (built-in vibrator tbh)

(Siren Echo is designed by the amazing @phantasm-echo!)

Happy Echo Day!

This art is all done by Chassmfizzms's sister CodytheKing, I'm crossposting on tumblr :]

i am a silly American so i did this double take of "wait what r ppl talking abt echo day there's no fourteenth month--" and then I was like "AH HA! America is silly :D"

i digress.

echo.

bad decisions

echo x mercenary fem reader summary: you've been wanting a chance with echo for a while now. even though it's not easy getting on the same page, perhaps your new connection with him makes it worth the wait. warnings: suggestive content a/n: me when echo's struggles with intimacy :((

Echo doesn’t particularly like hanging around Cid’s parlor, and you don’t blame him. The gambling, the drinking, the cursing, the fighting. It’s just a collection of the lowest life forms coming together to compensate for their bad decisions. Which is why you fit right in. This all comes easy to you in between jobs that scrape the credits you need to live hand to mouth each day. For the longest time, you’ve been going at it alone. It’s easier that way. No dependents, no attachments, no strings attached. No sharing, either. Just you and the money.

But getting roped up in Cid’s way of ripping off this sad group of clones seems to have changed things. None of them really likes you except for the young girl, who clearly likes everyone. You suppose that the big one is nice to you, too. Still, the basis of your so-called “mutually beneficial relationship” makes it inevitable that they aren’t exactly benefited by your presence. After all, you being here means they get paid less. Not your problem, though.

What has been problematic, recently, is the inability to get one simple conversation out of Echo. That’s all you’re really sticking around for—the credits have been rolling in nicely. If only he weren’t so…him.

“Who shit in his mantell mix?” You ask while popping a kernel from Wrecker’s outstretched hand as Echo abruptly walks out of the parlor, clearly fed up with all the noise. It’s gotten busy in the past half hour, which indicated his cue to leave.

“There’s shit in the mantell mix? Aw, man…”

You roll your eyes and sigh, watching Echo’s figure disappear into the street. He’s probably headed back to the Marauder, sulking over something. Or just sulking.

“You think he’s up for some company?” You rest your chin against your knuckles, still looking at the entrance even though he’s long gone.

Wrecker’s mouth is stuffed with too much mantell mix when he asks, “Uh, who?”

Groaning, you drop your face into the crook of your arm on the table while wondering how you got stuck with the most brainless bunch of idiots in the entire galaxy. But the worst of them all is the one who still hasn’t caught on to your interest. He’s been driving you the most insane, and this frustration has festered beyond a simple emotion. It’s a burning desire, one that can’t ease just from pressing your thighs together whenever he’s around. And even when he’s not, because you’re still thinking about him.

“For fucks sake,” comes a new, rougher voice that jolts you in surprise, “You’re really driving me up the wall here.”

You look up, unsurprised that it’s Hunter brooding in the corner with an irritated glare in his eyes. Maybe he’s not as unaware as the rest of them. The taut pull in your stomach calms, replaced by a bored indifference at the sight of his proximity.

“Yeah, Hunter, I’m not in the mood,” you tell him exasperatedly.

He raises his eyebrows at this, and you’re unsure if he’s insinuating something under those eyes. Turning away from him, you go back to looking at the parlor’s entrance that keeps swelling with newcomers looking for a crazy night. But none of them are Echo returning after he realizes that maybe the Marauder is too quiet right now. No, he likes the quiet. He likes it a lot.

“What?” You snap at Hunter, “If you have something to say, just say it.”

Hunter runs a slow hand down his face, grimacing with impatience. You don’t understand what his problem is, nor do you care. You’re about to get up and find somewhere else to sit when he says, “Echo, huh?”

“What?”

Hunter’s lips twitch at the side before he replies, “You’re not gonna get anywhere with that one. Trust me.”

Defensiveness seizes your throat like claws as you push out of your chair, standing abruptly despite some people looking over at you to see what the commotion is all about. You hadn’t meant to draw attention like this, but the galaxy is nosy wherever you end up. Your face is warm when you retort, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No, I think you do.”

“Fine. Your point?” You mutter through gritted teeth.

“Just take your shit outside. I can’t stand another second of this.”

“Oh, you just have to make everything about you. Good thing I was just leaving.”

And you do, stalking out of the parlor similarly to Echo a few minutes ago. The streets of Ord Mantell try to swallow you whole, but you know the way to the Marauder through the winding roads and bustling crowds. Once you reach the ship, everything seems to quiet. The chaos of the world sinks into the background, except for your racing heart as you step inside. Echo is nowhere to be found at first, an observation that makes you sigh with dejection.

The further you walk into the ship, though, the louder you hear some distant clicking toward the cockpit. And to your suspicions, your heart skips a beat when you catch sight of Echo hunched over in the copilot’s seat. Only, he looks different—in a way you’ve never seen before. He’s out of his armor, wearing nothing but a tight black jumpsuit that does wonders for his straining back muscles. You’re not sure how long you’ve been standing there, gawking, but reality wraps its fingers around your ankles to bring you back to the ground. Echo must’ve realized you were there, because he looks over his shoulder with a narrow gaze that slightly softens when he realizes it’s you.

“Can I help you?” His deep, slow voice sends shivers down your spine. It’s like he doesn’t even have to try.

Your eyes flick toward the screwdriver in his left hand as he rests it on his thigh and waits for your response. Are his eyes always that big and brown? You also notice that he’s missing his headpiece, giving his ears their rare appearance.

“No, I…I just wanted to get away from the parlor for a bit. I think Cid spiked her own punch.”

Echo’s gaze follows you as you collapse into the pilot’s seat beside him. He’s uncomfortably unreadable at the moment, so you avert your eyes from him and continue, “I hope you weren’t expecting privacy.”

He makes a low “ha” sound under his breath, the closest thing you’ve ever heard to a laugh from him.

“I told you not to drink anything,” he reminds you.

Your face suddenly feels hot again. “Maybe next time I’ll take your word for it.”

“Maybe, huh?”

“Fine. I will.”

Echo peers at you closely before leaning over again, bringing his screwdriver back to his prosthetic calves. You don’t miss the way he also turns away from you a bit, spinning the seat just enough to block you from fully seeing what he’s up to. But he doesn’t ask you to leave. You take that as a sign that this conversation isn’t a lost cause yet.

Except, it kind of is. A disappointing silence consumes the Marauder, only occasionally disturbed by the sound of Echo’s mechanical legs tightening with quiet squeaks. Eventually, you hear a tired grunt, and Echo leans back in his seat with his eyes closed.

“I think I’ve forgotten what it’s like to not have to do this every other day,” he sighs.

You glance over his figure slowly before getting up to crouch before him.

“Every other day sounds like overkill,” you tell him while taking the screwdriver from his hand. His eyes fly open in surprise, widening even more when he realizes you’re on your knees in front of him. But you don’t meet his gaze until after you’ve inspected his legs, smiling much too calmly for his liking.

“It’s not consistent maintenance,” he mumbles, unsure where to look.

You lean forward and rest your arms against his knees, shifting further between his legs—closer to him. He swallows a hard, nervous lump in his throat, and you follow this movement with your own hungry gaze. That only seems to intimidate him more, though.

“I know a guy who could replace these for you. The material is kind of…cheap. No offense.”

Echo wrinkles his nose at this. “Cheap?”

“I mean,” you wince, worried that you offended him already, “You could use an upgrade. I’m sure it’s been a while.”

He casts his eyes downward—is that…shame? You don’t know the story behind the differences in his body from his brothers, but you also never saw that as your question to ask. Based on the look on his face, perhaps you were right. You lean back a bit, thinking you’ve completely overstepped the line, until he admits, “These were…given to me. To put it lightly. I didn’t really have a choice. And I definitely couldn’t have asked for...an upgrade.”

You shrug, taking it upon yourself to twist the screws back into place. “Like I said, I know a guy. I can pay him not to ask questions, too.”

“Uh, nah. I’d rather not add to the list of debt we allegedly owe Cid.”

“This isn’t about Cid. It’s just me.”

“Yeah, but…you’re not all that different from her.”

This halts your movements completely as you look up at him, not meaning to show the flash of hurt across your expression. But he notices it. Only, he meant what he said. He’s never been the type to double down on his beliefs. Most of the time, that’s admirable. Right now, though, it just stings.

“You hardly know me,” you retort coldly, feeling your walls creep up.

“You’re a mercenary. I think I’ve met enough to know what you’re all about.”

Mercenary. He says the word like it’s poisonous, like it disgusts him. Maybe it does disgust him. Maybe you disgust him. None of those options provide you with good feelings.

Still, you have to hold your ground. “Well, you're about a paycheck anyway from joining the club.”

He scowls, looking over your head. “That's what it is. The money.”

“Yup,” you emphasize the “P” sound with a shameless pop.

“How can you be so shallow?”

You laugh cynically, shaking your head at his naivety. “You can’t fight it. Money’s everything in this galaxy.”

“You sound like Cid.”

“Funny. Really funny, since I was actually considering speaking to her about increasing your share. Good thing you just pissed me off.”

Scoffing, he says, “Don’t bother. We’re not sticking around anyway.”

Your stomach lurches at this, but you hear yourself replying, “Lucky me.”

He nods, glancing down at where you’re working on his legs. “I can handle this. I hope you’re not planning to charge me for—”

You sigh loudly and exasperatedly, cutting his sentence off. “You know, Echo, I was really hoping you weren’t as stupid as I was beginning to think you were.”

“I—excuse me?”

You set the screwdriver down and clasp your hands together, resting your chin against them as your elbows use his knees for surface. Your smile is sweet, so unlike the way he wants to see you.

“Nothing. Look, I just don’t think you really hate me.”

“I, uh…”

“Should we test that theory?” You continue, leaning up to bring your faces closer.

He notices how close your mouths are and turns to the side a bit, swallowing hard.

“Did one of my brothers put you up to this?” He asks with growing embarrassment in his eyes.

Your expression flattens at this question, which sounds absolutely ridiculous when you think about how badly you've been dying to get him alone. If anything, it’s his brothers who have proved as nuisances to your desire. There’s no way he has it backwards. Except…he does. He can’t even look at you right now.

“You’re not serious,” you breathe, “Is it that hard to believe that I’m here because I’m just trying to get a conversation out of you?”

His eyes flick up and down your kneeling figure. “Is this how you converse with everyone?”

You furrow your eyebrows before laughing, covering your face with a lazy hand. “Just you, Echo.”

He smiles at your smile, but this quickly fades as soon as it appears. “You’re right. It is hard to believe.”

“I mean…” he continues, “Look at me.”

You rise from the floor, now standing over him as you do what he says.

“I’m looking,” you tell him, “And I don’t see a problem.”

He meets your eyes, trying to discern if you’re telling the truth. You move closer to him until you’re sinking into his lap, grabbing his broad shoulders for stability. His expression twists with surprise, but his left hand finds your waist. Instead of pulling you closer, though, he holds you firmly so that there’s still some distance between your torsos. This reminds you of how strong he is, for the pressure of his long fingers is almost bruising. The idea of him marking you up is quite inviting. You feel his stubble as you caress his jawline, wanting to kiss along this sharp ridge. But you’re not about to push your luck.

“Have you always been this handsome?” You ask him.

He chuckles drily. “It’s a long story.”

You drag your hands down his chest, pressing down against this hard surface. “I almost want to ask.”

He purses his lips like he’s considering the notion. “I don’t know. But…”

The sharp inhale he releases sounds uncharacteristically carnal for someone so self-controlled. And then the words that follow, too.

“…That feels really good.”

His head is tipped back, baring his throat like another temptation testing your patience. You fail this one, though, for you can’t stop yourself from leaning closer and pressing your lips against the nape of his neck. He tightens his hand around your waist right when you ask, “What…this?”

As the words leave your mouth, you kiss along his neck while running your hand down his chest to his stomach, stopping at the beginning of his lower half. He breathes hard and heavy, slipping his fingers under the hem of your shirt without even thinking. All he can think about is how much softer your skin is compared to his. How different you two truly are. Those thoughts crumble into the background of his mind when you whimper at his touch, a soft “mmm” sound that ignites something inside of him. Something he thought he wasn’t capable of feeling anymore. And it scares him.

He suddenly stands, lifting you against him with his left arm. Your legs tighten around his middle as you hope he doesn’t put you down—put an end to all of this, really.

But to your dismay, he says, “I don’t know about this.” His mouth is so close to yours that you can almost taste his rejection.

“Oh. Is it me?” You can’t help but ask. You don’t recognize your own voice, suddenly feeling smaller than ever.

He shakes his head. “It’s not you. I just don’t think I’m ready for…what you have in mind.”

You raise your eyebrows, unable to fight the amused tugging at the side of your lips. “So, you finally get it.”

He smirks, but there’s a sheepish look in his eyes when he sets you on the floor carefully. Your hands are still splayed against his chest as you stand in front of him, and he wraps his left hand around yours reassuringly. After wondering for so long if he would even look at you with anything but resentment or indifference, your heart warms and flutters like you’re a teenage girl again. This isn’t anything like the instantaneous, transactional relationships you’re used to in the business. People come and go, including you. Maybe this can be different. Maybe it is different. You'll know if you wait for him. All in good time, of course.

“Well, I’ll be here,” you tell him, smoothing your palm over his racing heartbeat, “You know. If you ever want to make a bad decision with me.”

He kisses your forehead softly, surprising the both of you.