#echo x reader

Especially when you've been lingering around him the entire day, eyes fixated on every part of his body, meeting his gaze with a dark heated look that screams i need you right now. You were ovulating, and Maker he'd be lying if he said it didn't turn him on too. He could smell it from you—the changes in your body, the scent of your hormones calling out to him, the subtle waft of your arousal every time you rub your legs, how you look at him like he's a piece of meat—it drives him absolutely insane.

So, taking pity on his girl, he came up behind you and leaned down so he could whisper in your ear. Go home and get ready. He almost laughed at how fast you stood up from your seat and marched away, leaving the rest of his brothers confused at your sudden departure. They must've thought you were upset. Good, saves him the time and privacy. And now here he was—holding you down on your bed with your ass pulled up high, large hands on your hips to pull you back against him, and your face buried in your pillows to muffle your sounds.

He could've been more gentle with you, especially now that your body was sensitive—not to mention fertile—but something told Hunter gentle wasn't what you needed right now. You needed him hard, rough, and deep. You were sobbing for it, and he could only oblige his sweet girl's wishes. It's what your body wanted too, after all—to be filled by his spend and do it over, and over, and over again until you're completely satisfied. And who was he to deny that?

“Is this what you want?” Hunter snaps his hips faster, groaning at the sensation of your walls clenching around him. “Been thinking about it too. Could smell you all day. Driving me crazy with those eyes and smell. Next time, just ask. I'd give it to you, mesh'la. Give you this—”

He thrusted again, deeper, pulling another loud moan out of you. “—for as long as you want. All day. All night. I'd take care of you, sweet girl.”

He smiled at the way you tried to meet his thrusts, pushing back against him for more, moaning his name to spur him to go harder. He did, flipping you over so you faced him and hitching your legs around his hips, before he began another brutal pace that has you crying out and sobbing. Hunter only kisses your tears away, shushing your babbling in gentle murmurs—the opposite to his rough thrusts.

“I'll fill you up, mesh'la. Won't stop until you're round and swollen with me.”

ECHO

Echo is honestly the perfect lover. Thoughtful, caring, and deeply understanding.

He's incredibly sweet to you, always making sure your well-being is perfect and advising you to tell him immediately if there's something wrong. He's all about communication and trust, which makes you love him. Especially now that you're on your first day of ovulation, seeing him be so attentive and nurturing lights an insatiable heat within you. He knew everything about you—your quirks, habits, tell-tales, favorite things, dislikes—so, he should've known this day would come. He just didn't expect it to come sooner.

You'd never forget the look on his face when you suddenly pulled him inside an empty storage compartment, snickering at his wide-eyed stare, before you locked the door behind him. Echo immediately picked up on what was happening, flushing for a moment as he tried to ask you if this was okay. But he didn't get any answer except for the sight of you dropping on your knees, peering up at him through your lashes, and giving him that wicked smile that knocked the air out of his lungs.

Echo didn't need to be told twice. He was already clumsily fumbling with his armor, then dropped his codpiece on the ground, and pulled himself out—half-hard and throbbing—while you impatiently tugged his blacks down to expose more. And when you grasped him, Echo already knew he wouldn't survive this. He'd walk right out of this compartment utterly wrecked and ruined. But he didn't mind it. His girl can have whatever she wants right now, and if you want him like this, he's all yours.

So, Echo gathers your hair in his other hand and leans back against the wall. Go on, cyar'ika. Take what you want. Oh, you did. You took him down and deep like you've been starving for it. You kept praising him for how he's been so good to you, how you wanted to thank him, how irresistible he looks when he's concerned. And Echo was left grunting and covering his mouth using his scomp through every praise and suck.

But just before he could come, you pulled away from him and stood up. Shoving your pants and underwear down, turning around so you face the opposite wall, and bending over while tossing him a dark look over your shoulder. Echo didn't think twice—he placed a hand on your spine, his scomp against your hip, gently nudged your feet apart, and lined himself up against you.

“Greedy little thing.” You heard him laugh from behind, before you felt him push inside with an agonizing pace, filling you up perfectly with every inch of his girth. “Both hands on the wall. Just be quiet for me. Okay, cyar'ika?”

TECH

Tech has your Ovarian cycle catalogued ever since your first intimate moment with him.

Now, he's perfectly aware of each phase your body goes through every month. He'd let you pester him during his work, bring him food and drinks when you're in your follicular phase because apparently that makes you happy. He'd spend time with you during your luteal phase, returning the acts of service to nourish your needs through those times. And in time of your menstrual phase, he'll be even more gentle and soft around you.

But between the follicular and luteal phase was the one variable he always could never be prepared for. He should be able to predict it, at least, anticipate when it will happen. But compared to the other phases, this phase was entirely unpredictable. Thankfully, he understood how your body by now. The moment your heat signature rises to a certain degree, the way your heartbeat quickens faster than normal, and the sight of your skin flushed and glowing told him enough.

All signs leading to your Ovulation phase. And during this phase, you were more. . . demanding with your needs. So, Tech wasn't even surprised when you knocked his datapad off his hands and tugged him towards the cockpit where you sealed yourselves inside for the remainder of the day.

“Ahhh—oh, stars. Are you sure you don't—ahhh—want to be more gentle, my dear?” Tech gritted out through clenched teeth, grasping your hips to ground himself while you rode him on his pilot seat. “Oh, kriff. No, you don't. That's—ahhh—fine. I'll document this for next ti—”

He didn't even get to finish his sentence as you crashed your lips on his, muffling his surprised gasp. Oh, of course. How could he forget? Sometimes, you disliked it when he began rambling during these acts. Especially during this phase of your cycle. And so, Tech adjusted his goggles and shifted in his seat.

Very well, then.

He didn't give you time to adjust, before he tightened his grip on your hips and started thrusting up. You cried out, both in pleasure and relief, meeting his thrusts with every downward grind—wrapping your arms around his neck and burrowing your face on his shoulder.

“That's it, my dear. Let go. Do not stop. Don't.”

CROSSHAIR

Oh, Crosshair's gonna be onto you the moment he catches your stare and sees the hungry glint in your eyes.

It wouldn't take him long to know you're in that phase, his favorite one, and he will rile you up on purpose. Because why not? It's more fun that way. A challenge to see who's going to give in first. He'd intentionally drop his voice and slow his words when talking to you, flex his fingers around his rifle while he cleans it, lets out more noises when he stretches or trains, and shifts his toothpick around with his tongue—making sure you see and hear everything.

His touch lingers on your body when he pats your hip or squeezes your thigh. He uses his height to tower over your frame when he corners you and whispers all the filthy things he knew would get you all hot and bothered. And he'd always have that infuriating smirk on his lips when he sees the frustration on your face the moment he pulls away and walks off like nothing happened.

But it's all part of his plan. The moment you decide enough is when he'll claim victory. And the moment he catches your stare, come here right now or else, and he's already following close behind you still wearing that infamous grin that makes your blood boil and race at the same time. If you thought he was a tease before, he's much worse once in private.

Because he knows all the right buttons to press. The right pace—torturously slow—to have you squirming in frustration. The patterns he'd draw between your legs to have them shaking. All the sensitive spots on your body he knew would make you more desperate. He exploits all of them while he takes you against a wall, hidden from the public but risky enough for someone to catch you.

One hand on your mouth, the other gripping your hip, back arched as he thrusts into you from behind. Rough, deep, and punishing. You're already panting and drooling in his palm, while he's keeping his own noises down through strained groans and grunts.

“So desperate,” his voice slithers between your ears raggedly. “Not even ashamed we're out here. Need me that badly, huh? Well, you have me now. And you'll have more later when we get home.”

WRECKER

Now, Wrecker is a little more dense when it comes to these things.

You have to let him know each time because he could mistake your wandering gaze and lingering touches as genuine affection. And he's a pretty physical guy himself, he'd see those gestures as something normal and he'd return them equally. So, whenever your ovulation phase comes around, you'd have to tap his arm and give him a look specifically for him to understand alone. Or if that doesn't work still, you'd gesture to him to lean down so you could whisper in his unscarred ear—can we get out of here?

Which is usually his cue to know you need him, and you wanted to be as far away as possible from others. His eyes would go wide, starts nodding furiously once he puts the pieces together. It never fails to amuse you every time when he starts to fumble out an excuse to others. Then, you'd pull him away while he's wearing a giddy grin that stretches so far on his face.

The next moment, he's sighing in relief as you sink down on his massive length—already throbbing and leaking the moment you stripped down to your underwear and pushed it aside to straddle him. His energy switches every phase. Sometimes he's rough and fast, carried away by adrenaline and the thrill of someone finding the two of you here. Other times, he lets you lead the pace. And right now, he's letting you take control.

“Love it when you're like this,” Wrecker groans out, then curses when you clench around him. “Kriff—so wet and warm. Take your time, sweetheart. This one's all yours. Just wanna watch you come on my cock.”

He sits back and watches you struggle against him, grinning up at you as he helps you move by holding your hips and letting you grind back and forth. His hands would wander all over your body, always praising and talking you through it. That's it, pretty girl. Have all of me. I'm right here. You need this badly, huh? Not going anywhere, just take it slow. I'll stuff you full later. Fill you up nice and slow.

And once you finally come, Wrecker grins and switches up.

It was a slow night at 79’s; you wouldn’t have had it any other way. A clone bar was pretty far from your typical scene, but it was the only bar on Coruscant that you knew had decent drinks.

It wasn’t really the “scene” of your… friends, if they could be called that, either. They were clones, yes, but not normal ones. 

To most? Ten times more prickly, with an air of superiority about them that made them intolerable to other clones. But to you? There weren’t a set of clones in the galaxy you’d rather be spending an evening with.

They’d just gotten back from a mission, and considering it was rare that you were all on the same planet at once… you’d taken the opportunity to invite them out. Well, it was actually Wrecker who invited you here, but you’d mentioned wanting to get together.

You were laughing off your second drink now, losing it over another stupid joke Hunter made. Or, more specifically, at the way Crosshair glared at him for saying it.

“You guys up for round three?” You quirked an eyebrow at the table. 

“That even a question?” Wrecker grinned, already standing up. But you held a hand up, insisting on getting everyone’s drinks. They seemed reluctant to watch you go alone, but… the bar was mostly empty at this hour. 

They shared a look: what could go wrong? 

And so you left the booth, taking a seat at the bar and listing off their orders, plus your own, like second nature. 

The bartending droid got to work, and you relaxed a bit against the bar, a light smile curving your lips. 

“Well, aren’t you a pretty thing.”

You turned your head. There was a clone a couple seats away from you at the bar, nursing a half-empty drink you doubted was his first. Your smile faltered for a second before transforming into a more polite one. You nodded respectfully, trying to make it obvious you weren’t interested in conversation.

He didn’t take the hint. He stood up from his seat, abandoning his drink to lean against the bar right next to you.

“Ah… enjoying your night, soldier?” you tried, laughing awkwardly.

His face twisted in consideration as he shrugged. “Eh. Little quiet. Little boring.” Then his gaze flicked to you, and he grinned. “Until now. Haven’t seen you around here before.”

“Oh, yeah, uh… not my typical joint.”

“Figured. You look like you should be somewhere much nicer, little lady.”

Was that supposed to be a compliment? You just laughed again, shifting in your seat. The bartending droid was done with three of the six drinks you needed.

“You here all alone?” 

“No, I’m here with friends.” An apologetic smile accompanied your response. You were hoping that would be enough to get him away. “They’re just sitting at a booth over there.”

He didn’t look. “Well, you’re alone right now.” 

Another uncomfortable laugh left you, and you looked at the droid almost desperately. Work faster, you goddamn—

“I’ll keep you company, if you don’t mind…” His hand slid across the bar towards your crossed arms resting on the counter, and you quickly sat up straight, intertwining your fingers tightly in your lap.

“No, that’s okay. I’ll probably be… you know. Walking away in a second.” Take the hint, dude. 

“Oh, but your friends can wait a few minutes, can’t they? I don’t think I’m ready to watch a pretty girl like you get away so soon.” He smiled, chuckling softly. 

You just narrowed your eyes, no longer smiling as you desperately stared at the drinks on the platter. Five drinks. Just one more…

Your head was jerked back to look at the clone when he grabbed your chin, laughing at your startled expression. “You’ve got gorgeous eyes. Very expressive.”

“Excuse me,” a (thankfully) familiar voice chirped on your other side. “Can you make that Fire Dancer a double shot?” He’d been addressing the droid, but from his sharp tone… he was probably taking a jab at the clone, too.

The clone’s grip on your chin loosened just enough for you to turn your head. Tech was drumming his fingers on the bar on your other side, looking directly at the clone out of the corner of his eye.

“I don’t think she’s interested,” he deadpanned, expression unreadable.

The clone’s face twitched. “Hey… you’re one of those bad batchers,” he sneered. “Why don’t you go back to whatever corner you’re hiding in, and stop trying to act like you know everything?”

“I’ve got a better idea for you.” A sharp voice, low and gravelly, sliced the air. You turned again to see Crosshair standing behind the clone, one arm braced on the bar to box him between you and Crosshair.

“Get it through your head that she’s. Not. Interested,” he drawled, narrowing his eyes in that glare that was eerily similar to his sniping abilities—precise, intentional, and deadly.

Tech was leaning over your shoulder, trying to read a serial number printed on the clone’s armor. “CT-3889,” he read. “I’ll remember that.”

“What, are you gonna report me?” The clone snorted.

“Report? Oh, no. I can think of things that are worse than reporting. And easier, too.” He nodded, accepting his drink from the bartending droid. 

“... You’re bluffing,” the clone narrowed his eyes, glancing once at Crosshair behind him.

“You wanna find out?” Crosshair practically hissed.

The droid set a platter on the bar with the other five drinks you needed, and just as soon as it hit the surface, CT-3889 was up and gone, grumbling curses under his breath.

“... I don’t like that guy.” Crosshair narrowed his eyes, never letting his gaze leave the trooper once until he was out of the establishment. Then he looked at you, examining your face closely. “He touched you.” 

You blinked. Watching them scare that guy off… you almost forgot that you were a part of this whole ordeal. “Oh. Uh…”

“Is he finally gone?” Echo drawled, eyeing the door carefully as he stepped closer. Hunter and Wrecker were behind him.

“If I ever see that guy on Kamino…” Wrecker snarled, cracking his knuckles irritably, “I’m gonna—”

“You’re not gonna do anything,” Hunter warned him. Then he looked at you. “Are you alright?”

“I was going to ask that,” Tech interjected quietly, taking a sip of his drink.

“You guys. I’m fine,” you almost had to laugh. Almost. “He was just…” you gestured vaguely. You didn’t want to say anything nice, but saying something mean would make it seem like you weren’t fine. Which, to be fair, you sort of weren’t. 

“Insufferable,” Crosshair grumbled, picking up his own drink to throw it back.

“Ugly,” Wrecker added, then guffawed. That got you to laugh, too.

“Bothering you.” Tech said finally, and you nodded. He hummed. “Well then. I’m glad I intervened.”

“We shouldn’t have let you go off on your own,” Hunter said, almost apologetically. 

“Yeah, regs can be…” Echo made a face, gesturing to the door. “... Like that.”

“And you guys are so much better,” you teased, putting your hands on your hips. “You probably scared that guy all the way back to his incubation chamber.”

Crosshair snorted. “Good.” After a slow sip of his drink, he just shook his head, almost imperceptibly. “I’d never stoop that low.”

“Wouldn’t you, now?” You raised an eyebrow, smirking. 

Crosshair matched your grin. “Why would I harass some lady at a bar when I’ve already got you?”

Wrecker burst out laughing; a contagious sound. Soon you were all chuckling into your drinks again, but in those silent breaths between more jokes and stories…

You let yourself feel a little lighter. From what Crosshair said (and from how the boys were still eyeing the other bargoers suspiciously)... you had a feeling you wouldn’t have to worry about “suitors” like that again for a long time.

Hunter moves the datapad onto the workbench next to him, his heavy, armored arm instantly wraps securely around your shoulders to pull you flush against him. Because of his enhanced senses, your sudden presence completely grounds him. He buries his face into your hair, breathing you in deeply, and begins making an incredibly soft, rhythmic humming sound in his throat, trait he only ever displays when he is one hundred percent relaxed.

"The datapad can wait," he whispers, his gravelly voice dropping to a soothing, private register as he presses a soft kiss to the crown of your head. "You're much more important to me, cyare.” He gently rubs his thumb against your arm, completely content to stay frozen in that exact position for hours just to keep you comfortable.

TECH

Tech is completely in his element at his workbench, goggles securely on and wires spilling across the table as he hyper focuses on fixing a broken terminal interface. His fingers move at lightning speed across the keys while he mumbles rapid calculations to himself, totally lost in his own world. You walk up directly behind his chair, lean over his shoulder, and gently rest your chin right on top of his head. When his typing doesn't stop, you take your hands and softly cup his face from behind, your fingers resting right over the strap of his goggles.

"Tech, I want your attention," you say softly, your voice cutting through his frantic muttering.

His hands instantly hover over the keyboard as a bright, geometric pink flush creeps up his neck and spreads across his cheeks. "I am currently handling live electrical currents, which makes this specific positioning highly illogical and potentially hazardous," he squeaks out, though he makes absolutely no effort to move away from your touch. The second you gently nuzzle his hair, he lets out a defeated little huff, carefully powers down his datapad, and pushes his goggles up onto his forehead.

Turning his chair around to face you, he grabs you by the waist and pulls you right into his lap, burying his face in your neck. "If you required companionship, you merely had to state the parameters," he murmurs, his voice dropping to an incredibly soft, shy register as his heart beats a mile a minute against your chest. "I will always adjust my schedule for you. The terminal interface is a fixed variable and your presence is... significantly more time-sensitive."

CROSSHAIR

Crosshair is lounging lazily on his bunk, chewing on a toothpick while staring blankly at the ceiling of the hold. He looks entirely unapproachable, radiating his usual cynical aura that effectively keeps the rest of the galaxy at a distance. You completely ignore the invisible barrier, climbing onto the narrow mattress and crawling right over his long legs until you lie down flat on top of his chest like a human blanket, resting your chin on his sternum.

You look straight up at him and say clearly, "Crosshair, I want your attention."

The toothpick immediately stops moving between his lips, and he rolls his eyes dramatically while letting out a small, possessive smirk. "You are incredibly needy today," he mutters, his voice a low, lazy drawl that lacks any real bite. He pretends to be annoyed by the disruption, but his large hands immediately find their way to your waist, tightening their grip to pull you up until your face is perfectly level with his.

He plucks the toothpick out of his mouth, tosses it onto a nearby shelf, and uses his long, steady fingers to gently tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "Fine," he whispers, another tiny smirk forming on his lips as his thumb lingers to trace your cheekbone with uncharacteristic gentleness. "You win. But if you're going to use me as a mattress, you're trapped." He rolls over just enough to tuck you securely against his side, wrapping his long limbs over you completely so you can't escape even if you wanted to, before resting his chin on your head and closing his eyes.

WRECKER

Wrecker is sitting cross legged on his bunk, happily sewing a loose patch onto Lula while humming a loud, clunky clone marching cadence. He is absolutely bursting with physical energy, completely occupied with his favorite tooka doll. You walk directly into his line of sight, tug gently on the hem of his tank top, and open your arms wide.

You give him the absolute highest concentration of puppy-dog eyes you can muster and say, "Wrecker, I want your attention."

His eyes go wide as saucers, and he instantly drops everything he is holding. Lula falls to the floor and his sewing kit rattles against the frame, as a massive, radiant grin splits across his face. "CUDDLE TIME?!" he booms out at the top of his lungs. He immediately catches himself, clapping both hands over his mouth with a guilty look to ensure the noise didn't scare you, before whispering loudly, "I mean... cuddle time?"

He scoops you up into the biggest, warmest bear hug in the galaxy, lifting your feet completely off the deck and spinning you around once in the air before falling backward onto his bunk with you safely tucked on top of his chest. He acts like a walking radiator, making you feel like you've been wrapped in a heated blanket fresh out of the dryer. He reaches down to tuck Lula right between the two of you, rocking you gently from side to side. "You're the best, you know that?" he beams, wrapping his massive arms securely around your back. "We're staying like this forever! No one's allowed to wake us up!"

ECHO

Echo is standing near the cockpit threshold, intently reviewing tactical flight maps on a datapad in full soldier mode, his posture perfectly straight and serious as he checks off standard maintenance protocols. You walk up to his side, slide your fingers into his human hand, and gently interlock them.

You lightly tap a quiet cadence against the cool metal plating of his prosthetic arm, look up at him, and whisper, "Echo, I want your attention."

He blinks rapidly, his highly trained tactical brain completely short-circuiting at the sudden sensation. He looks down at your joined fingers, then up at your face, his cheeks turning a lovely shade of crimson in the dim lighting of the ship. "I... I was just completing the perimeter logs," he stammers, but the datapad is shut off instantly and clipped to his belt anyway as he squeezes your human hand back with an incredibly tender, protective grip.

.✦ ݁˖ wrecker (482 words)

it was a well-known fact that wrecker hated heights. but somehow, he always landed in situations where he would be practically tightrope walking from 300 metres off the ground.

although he tried not to look down, his eyes would subconsciously glance downwards every few seconds, rebelling against his brain which was repeating don’t look down like a mantra.

as you made your way across the narrow cliff’s edge, right in front of him, you also felt fear creep into your mind. you couldn’t afford it, but at that height, anyone would be scared.

just when you started getting used to it, a bomb dropped a few hundred feet in front of the both of you, causing you to momentarily lose your balance.

“if they just bombed us, that means they’re sending droids next. we’ll be trapped,” you tell wrecker. underneath your observation there was an unspoken question: what are we going to do?

as much as he hated the idea, wrecker could only think of one way out. “uhh i have an idea… but you’re not gonna like it.” this did nothing to help your growing sense of fear, considering that most of wrecker’s ideas were unlikeable anyways. “what is it?” you ask, preparing yourself for the worst. for all you know, he’s going to ask you to jump off the cliff. 

“you’re just gonna have to trust me.” the look he gives you makes your stomach somersault, and not in the way it usually does when you see him. when you don’t say anything, he follows up. “i trust you, do you trust me?”

as impossible as this situation looked, the truth was that you did trust him. so no matter how terrible his idea was, you trusted that he would never intentionally hurt you. “yes,” you nod.

you yelp as he suddenly picks you up and then jumps. straight off the edge of the cliff. you had never regretted being right about something so much. 

wrecker’s screaming so loud that for a split second you accept that this is the end. if he’s screaming so loud when this was his idea, then either something has gone terribly wrong or he didn’t think this through. and both of those things were highly probable.

but your worries are quelled (mildly) when you hear the whoosh of a grappling hook being fired and your bodies jerk as you come to a quick stop. 

“whew, that was scary,” he says, voice slightly hoarse from all the screaming. “so is your miraculous plan just to… dangle off the cliff?” you ask, looking down and realizing that the two of you are definitely not close enough to the ground to jump the rest of the way. “no silly, you’re supposed to comm tech to come get us.” after a moment he adds, “and can you ask him to hurry? i don’t wanna be here any more.”

.✦ ݁˖ hunter (394 words)

the two of you had been at this for hours. and still, you felt like you hadn’t improved in the slightest.

hunter was teaching you how to fight with a knife. you were great with a blaster, but blasters weren’t always available. plus, you had kind of wanted to learn a new skill. 

honestly, you were being a little harsh with yourself, at least in hunter’s eyes. not only had you just started learning, but you had mastered a lot of the moves he had taught you already. but he could see in your expression that you were frustrated with yourself. 

“maybe it’s time for a break,” hunter says, taking the knife from you. hunter’s brow furrows as you nod, not saying a word. he takes your hand and drags you onto the steps of the ship, making you sit down beside him. 

“you’re doing great, you know,” he says softly. you’re silent for a moment before shaking your head. “i just feel like it’s not good enough. it’s not like we have a lot of time to be training. i need to get good at this, and fast,” you say, looking away from him to try and hide the tears threatening to fall.

he gently takes ahold of your chin and turns your head to face him. “you’re too hard on yourself,” he says, kissing your nose. “i trust that you’ll get this. can you trust me?” he asks. when you nod, he drops his hand from your chin and says “let’s try once more. this time it’ll be you vs. me.” you groan, already knowing how it’s going to end.

but you surprise yourself with how well you fight. maybe you did need that break, even if you would never admit that to hunter. after a few minutes of intense sparring, you (somehow) manage to pin hunter to the ground, winning.

“see? not half as bad as you thought,” hunter laughs as he pushes himself off the ground. you laugh with him as you help him up. “come on, let’s get dessert. you earned it,” he says, grabbing your hand. you are 100% sure that he let you win, because there was no way you had actually beaten an experienced soldier on your first day of training. but hunter looks proud, and you’re getting ice cream, so who are you to complain? 

.✦ ݁˖ echo (406 words)

both you and echo had gotten hurt on the last mission, bad. your skin was littered with bruises, and you had a few minor burns from the explosion that wrecker had accidentally triggered too early. echo looked no better, his prosthetics in bad shape and a serious sprain in his wrist from trying to catch himself as he fell, when he was attempting to take cover from said explosion.

the two of you are in the back of the marauder, alone, on the flight back to kamino after the mission. although he was clearly in a lot of pain from the condition of his prosthetics, he had insisted that he patch you up first.

picking up a bacta pad, he asks, “do you trust me?”, looking at you with wide eyes. “of course,” you respond breathlessly. echo always asked for permission, before doing anything. you admired that about him, especially knowing that it must be important to him. he probably knows better than most what it’s like to have your autonomy stripped from you, and thus refuses to do anything to anyone without their explicit permission.

you hiss as he lowers the pad onto your calf, right under the spot where your pants had been hastily rolled up. “just breathe…” he says, securing the pad around your leg with tape. the two of you sit in comfortable silence as he continues gently cleaning up all your other small burns with the same gentleness. it was admirable how well he was able to work with just one hand.

“all done,” echo declares, sitting back. you smile at him, thanking him silently and he gives you a nod. for a moment, he doesn’t move, looking conflicted. you don’t press, waiting for him to speak when he feels comfortable. 

after a few moments, he hands you a small bag of materials, quietly asking you to help him with his injuries. your breath hitches as you take the bag, realizing how vulnerable this must be for him. as your sort through the supplies, you wonder if you’ll really be able to help him, since you would hate to mess things up and put him in even more pain by accident.

as you shift closer and pull his scomp towards you, it seems he can sense your fears when he whispers, “i trust you.” “thank you,” you respond, letting him guide you through repairing his prosthetics and patching up his sprain.

.✦ ݁˖ tech (647 words)

you lot were all in a lot of trouble. the planetary exit, meant to be inconspicuous, had been the opposite of stealthy. now there was an entire separatist fleet chasing after you, and the hyperdrive wasn’t coming online. 

“did they sabotage it?” echo calls from the back. he was trying his best to get the hyperdrive online, wrecker was at the back manning the ship’s rear blasters, and tech was piloting. hunter and crosshair were controlling the ship’s cannons. meanwhile you were in the cockpit hanging on for dear life as tech flew the ship like a maniac, attempting to read the ship’s manual to see if it had anything useful to offer. he was simultaneously avoiding blaster fire and trying to shake off the ships by going as fast as possible, but it was only a matter of time before they closed in. 

you squinted your eyes to try to focus on the words amidst the jostling of the ship. “deflectors have been compromised!” hunter calls. “i can’t get the hyperdrive online. i don’t know what’s wrong with it,” echo panics. 

“i can’t find anything useful in this manual.” you say, panicked. “don’t you have the entire manual memorized?” you ask tech. “i do. but i am currently occupied with trying to keep us all alive.” his usual calm tone is tinged with concern. even crosshair was silent. if he had no aggravating comment regarding the situation, then it was truly dire.

you flip to the next page, reading faster, although your hope was dwindling. just as you were about to throw the manual aside, you come across a passage that might just save all of you. “wait! i found something,” you exclaim. you read out the passage to echo and tech. tech blinks and then says, “i am surprised i did not think about that before. but that is a two-person job, and only echo and i have the ability to repair that part of the hyperdrive. you will have to fly the ship.”

“i can barely fly a ship! especially not during a life-or-death space chase!” you yell. if he really expected you to fly the ship, then you were all as good as dead.

“do not underestimate your abilities, my dear. i trust you with the ship. do you trust me?” he asks, glancing at you for a brief second. 

you take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the task. “i do,” you say, approaching his seat. you two quickly switch spots and he and echo get straight to work on fixing the hyperdrive. 

miraculously, your flying wasn’t as bad as you were expecting. you were managing to avoid the blaster fire, which was no small feat considering there were about five different ships trying to shoot down your ship. but just as you started feeling confident, a shot hits one of the wings.

“the left wing’s been hit!” you call to the rest of them. right as you started losing control of the ship, you hear the hyperdrive come online. were you even supposed to go into hyperspace with a compromised wing? probably not, but you didn’t have a choice. you quickly flip the switch and successfully enter hyperspace.

you slump back into the seat, exhaling shakily. you close your eyes as the adrenaline starts to wear off and you feel the effects of being so anxious for so long start to creep in. sitting there for a few moments, you thank the stars for your sudden high-class piloting abilities and that you hadn’t killed the whole batch. 

your eyes open as you hear someone come up behind you. a moment later you feel a hand land on your shoulder and give it a squeeze. “you did wonderfully. i am impressed,” tech praises. you flash him a smile, grateful that you had trusted each other. he returns it, thinking the same thing.

.✦ ݁˖ crosshair (501 words)

the batch needed to infiltrate a heavily fortified separatist base, and you had the great pleasure of joining them. 

they had been on many missions such as this one and always came out on top. it was hardly a challenge for them anymore, and they had no problem pretentiously whining about it all the time.

you, however, were not as easy-going about this mission as they were. crosshair noticed your anxiety no matter how good you were at hiding it. he noticed how your posture was a little too stiff and the slight furrow in your brow.

but he’s not very good at comfort, and the only way he knows how to address serious topics is using sarcasm. on the ship, during the debrief before the mission, he takes his toothpick out of his mouth and points it at you. “you look confident,” he mocks. which was not helpful, and only put you more on edge. 

he backs off slightly after that, paying attention to you throughout the mission. he shifts closer to you whenever your breath comes faster. stands in front of you when he sees your hand flexing, making sure that you’re covered from both the front and the back. practically manhandles you when he hears droids coming closer, making sure you’re behind something that can provide cover. helps shoot some of the targets in your way when your blaster trembles slightly in your hands. by no means were you an incompetent fighter, but anxiety catches up with everyone at times. although crosshair hated to admit it, he would never let harm come to you, and the last thing he wanted to do was invalidate how you feel.

despite your anxiety, the mission turned out to be a success, for the most part. you had recovered what you needed and had managed to make it thus far without anyone getting harmed. but just as the six of you are about to make your great escape, crosshair notices a battle droid in the distance, coming up behind you. he points his rifle straight at your face, and you freeze, eyes wide.

“do you trust me?” he asks. it’s hard to say yes with the gun pointed at your face, but you give him a small nod. as he moves his finger to pull the trigger, he says “i trust you. don’t move.” you close your eyes as you hear the blaster fire, but it never hits you. you open your eyes as you hear the sound of a large droid clattering to the ground. had he fired even a centimeter lower, it would’ve killed you. but if he hadn’t taken the shot like that, he wouldn’t have been able to take the droid out in one go. but he wouldn’t tell you that.

as the two of you run towards the marauder together, you huff, “couldn’t you have taken the droid out from any other angle” without missing a beat, he answers, “i could’ve. but there’s no fun in that.”

.✦ ݁˖ rex (535 words)

the war was tough on your relationship. on one hand, you were very understanding that rex had no control over his schedule. it was extremely admirable that he put his life on the line every day, and helped fight for the republic’s freedom, for your freedom. but the weeks, sometimes months, of loneliness were catching up to you. it was hard, especially since it wasn’t like rex could talk everyday. your communications were few and far between, as he had responsibilities and so did you. and as the war dragged on, his presence only became more scarce, until you felt like he was your partner in name only.

and boy, did rex try to make time for you. the guilt of leaving you alone ate at him constantly, to the point where he sometimes wondered if he should break up with you so you could move on and be with someone who was able to give you all the time you deserved. but selfishly, he wanted to hold onto you. and he also knew that a breakup would only hurt you more than it would help.

which is why he’s over the moon when he finally gets a day off, and runs straight to your place when he gets the chance. and when you open the door, you are the same as always; eternally grateful to see him, and you spend the rest of the day giddy, drunk on his presence. but rex could tell that you had been struggling. your apartment wasn’t as clean as it usually was. your laundry basket was overflowing, the dishes in the sink hadn’t been done in ages, and your plants had all died. 

so when the two of you finally make it into bed, he pulls you into him, wrapping his arms tightly around you. “hey… are you okay?” he asks gently. “yeah, i’m really happy you’re here,” you answer, giving him a small kiss. he takes a small breath and tries again. “no, i mean, have you been okay?” when you don’t answer, he waits patiently, not wanting to push you. you stay silent for a few minutes, and rex closes his eyes, thinking that you’re just not going to answer. but they open again when you say, “i’ve been really lonely.”

before you can launch into a long explanation to defend yourself, rex presses a kiss to your forehead. “i know it’s been hard. i need to try harder to make time. you’re my priority, and i haven’t treated you like it. i’m sorry for letting you feel lonely. i’m going to make sure to be in touch from now,” he apologizes, slowly stroking your hair. “i’d like that,” you whisper, scared that if you say more, you’ll start crying. 

he kisses you slowly, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other still wrapped tightly around you. “we need to trust each other to make this work. i trust you, do you trust me?” he asks, looking at you softly. for a moment he’s scared that you’ll say no, that you’ve had enough. but when you whisper “i trust you,” he kisses you again, eternally grateful that he got blessed with someone like you.

.✦ ݁˖ fives (911 words)

being with fives was exasperating sometimes. and this was definitely one of those times.

“are you being serious right now? i am not going through all this effort for some cookies,” you hiss at him in the alleyway, trying not to let anyone hear the two of you. when he had sent you an ominous message to meet him in this shady spot, you had run out of your house, assuming he was in danger. thankfully, that was not the case. unthankfully, he was being ridiculous again.

“these aren’t just any cookies! they look delicious. they smell delicious. and i bet they taste delicious too,” he whispers dreamily. you shake your head, mildly irritated that you were currently standing in a dark alley during the dead of night all because your partner wanted to steal some cookies. “if they’re that important to you, why don’t you just buy them? it doesn’t exactly look good for a soldier of the republic to be stealing,” you attempt to reason.

“they’re so expensive! 25 credits for two cookies isn’t exactly affordable. plus, it’s not like the republic is paying me for my service.” well, he’s got a point there. probably a human rights violation, but that’s an issue for a later day. 

you concede with a sigh. “all right. walk me through the plan.” because although fives was the biggest idiot in the galaxy, he was your idiot, and you secretly wanted a cookie too. 

his grand plan was as follows: once the owner is finished with closing, they will walk out the door and lock it behind them. while fives distracts them, you are to swipe the key off them. after waiting for about ten minutes, to make sure that the owner was long gone, the two of you would use the key to sneak into the store and try the leftovers. fives had even brought a little box with him to carry more cookies. but the leftover cookies were going to be thrown out tomorrow morning anyways, so really, the two of you were just preventing food waste. 

“i trust you to help me pull this off,” he says, taking your hands in his. “do you trust me? we won’t get in trouble, i promise.” you squeeze his hands, saying “i trust you. what i don’t trust is this plan.” his face falls for a moment, but his frown turns upside down when you add, “but let’s do it.”

about fifteen minutes later, fives and you watch from behind a pillar as the owner closes and locks the door behind them. the two of you watch him slip the key into a pocket in his pants. fives takes this as his queue, and as the owner starts walking away, he runs after them, yelling “hey! can i talk to you for a sec?” 

you turn around and facepalm from the sheer embarrassment. real subtle. but you still had a mission to complete, so pulling the hood of your cloak up, you start walking towards them. as you approach, you can hear fives’ pitiful attempt at starting conversation and have to suppress a laugh. “your bakery always smells so good, like cookies,” he states, the smile on his face way too wide to be considered natural. “ah, yes, that would be because i sell cookies…” the owner replies skeptically. 

but the owner is caught off guard when you slam into them a moment later. but it was a little harder than you had anticipated, and the two of you land hard on the ground. great, this plan’s already failed. but fives is always willing to create opportunity even when there isn’t one, and he reaches for the owner to help them up. while you apologize profusely, fives subtly reaches into the pocket and snags the key, the owner being too busy trying to reorient themselves to notice the slight loss of pressure in their pocket.

“watch it!” they snap at you. you apologize one more time, and the owner storms off. fives gives you a look, and before he can say anything, you roll your eyes. “don’t start.” he raises his hands in surrender and says, “i’m just sayin’, getting the key was supposed to be your job.” 

once the two of you had waited for a few minutes, and the coast was clear, you tiptoe to the door and put the key into the lock. fives holds his breath as you slowly pull the handle, trying not to create too much noise. but the door opens without hassle. 

the moment fives enters the shop, he dashes towards the display with the same speed he must use on the battlefield. “look! they have a special chocolate chip cookie dough flavour!” he exclaims, gesturing you to come closer. you can’t help but feel just as excited as he is, looking at all the different flavours and at how excited he is. 

about ten minutes and fifteen cookie selections later, the two of you exit the shop and leave the key underneath the doormat, with a note taped to the door explaining the situation. after all, you don’t want to stress the poor owner out too much. you’d already most likely broken their hipbone. 

later, when the two of you are watching a movie and stuffing yourselves full of cookies, he turns to you and wiggles his eyebrows. “bet you’re glad you trusted my plan.” “shut up,” you laugh, shoving another cookie in his mouth.

.✦ ݁˖ wolffe (353 words)

wolffe is a man of few words. more of an i’ll show you rather than an i’ll tell you kind of guy. so when you get woken up in the dead of night by the sound of his voice, your heart leaps out of your chest.

normally, you’d love to listen to him talk. but as your eyes adjust to the dark, you realize that his eyes are still closed. he’s sleeping, and from the looks of it, he’s not having the best night of his life. his body trembles as he repeats the same word over and over again. “no, no, no, no, no…” 

you had never seen him this distraught. “wolffe, wake up,” you say, trying to gently shake him awake, but he doesn’t budge. you try again, and still no dice. right when you think you’ll need to get a frying pan, he jerks awake. he sits up, entire body tense. but when he feels your hand trail down his arm, squeezing lightly, some of the tension leaves his muscles. 

“were you having a nightmare?” you ask him softly. he’s still panting a little when he answers “just a dream.” “come on,” you say, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him down. you lay with him, running your hands along his body to calm him down. his breathing slowly but surely starts to slow down, and the tension starts to leave his body completely. 

once his breathing returns to normal, he snakes his arms around you too, so you’re both hugging each other. “do you trust me?” he mumbles, almost as if he didn’t want you to hear him. “yes, wolffe, i do,” you reply without missing a beat. he kisses you, and where his kisses are usually possessive, this one is soft. after pulling away, he whispers against your lips. “i trust you. don’t leave me.” “wouldn’t dream of it,” you reassure him, kissing him again. 

the two of you quickly fall back asleep, comfortable and safe in each other’s arms. but if you ever bring this up at a future date, wolffe would swear it never happened.

.✦ ݁˖ cody (659 words)

it was very rare that cody got a day off from duty. he got a few hours from time to time, but a full day was hard to come by. which is exactly what made today so special. 

you groan at the insistent knocking at your door. at first you had just brushed it off, since you weren’t expecting anybody, and figured it must be someone lost, or a thief. but after about thirty seconds, the knocking had only increased in both pace and volume.

having had enough, you turn the burner off and storm towards the door. whoever had decided to ruin your peaceful day of cooking was about to hear it from you. you slam the door open, ready to hurl all sorts of insults at whichever idiot was behind the door.

but all those thoughts are erased from your mind the moment your brain registers who’s there. “cody!” you exclaim, jumping into his arms. he giggles into your hair. “hey, love. miss me?” he teases, planting a kiss on your head.

after a long minute of just holding each other, you reluctantly let go. a few hours later, the two of you are cozied up on the sofa together, bellies filled with delicious food (that you thankfully got to finish making) and hearts filled with happiness. 

“you know,” cody starts, hand running through your hair, “i think i need a hair cut.” you look at him, confused. “but i like your hair,” you counter. he stares at you with a mischievous look in his eyes, which only confuses you further. “i think we both need the change,” he says, standing up. what the hell does that even mean? 

“cody, what are you doing?” you ask as he heads towards the kitchen. he doesn’t answer you, too preoccupied with opening and closing drawers. “what are you looking for?” he still doesn’t answer, and you’re about to stand when you hear an ah-ha!. he comes towards you, holding the pair of scissors like a trophy, and declares “we should cut each other’s hair.” 

the idea is so sudden that you’re stunned into silence. “you want to cut each other’s hair… with kitchen scissors,” you confirm, and he nods, still looking a little too proud at his little idea. “isn’t there some GAR standard for hair?” you push, trying to knock some sense into him. but he only waves his hand dismissively. “there are plenty of clones with crazy hair,” he states (full shade to boost, wtf is that haircut brother). “i don’t believe that rex is a natural blonde. and if he can bleach his hair, then i can afford to cut a few locks.”

when cody wants something, he knows how to get it. which is exactly how you find yourself standing in front of the bathroom sink a few minutes later, freshly-cleaned kitchen scissors in hand. you breathe deeply as you lightly wet his hair with a spray bottle. “hey, darling. don’t be nervous. i trust you,” he comforts you, rubbing your arm lightly. 

the process takes way longer than it should. but 45 minutes later, you stand in front of a very happy cody as he admires his new haircut in the mirror. even you must admit; you did a pretty good job. “you should do this full time, love,” he says gratefully, “it’s exactly what i wanted.”

“i’m glad,” you smile at him. 

but just as you’re about to leave the bathroom, he grabs your arm and drags you back. he tsks and says, “nuh-uh, now it’s my turn.” uh oh. as he reaches for the spray bottle to repeat the process on you, he laughs as he says, “i trusted you, but the real question is, do you trust me?” 

you trusted him in every context except this one. you flash him a nervous smile and nod, resigning yourself to the fact that you’ll probably be wearing hats for the next little while.

.✦ ݁˖ fox (1.1 k words - oops)

fox had never meant for you to get caught up in all this. but no matter what he wanted to happen, the truth was that you were in danger, and he blamed himself.

someone had hired a bounty hunter to eliminate a highly valued prisoner. the coruscant guard had just barely managed to stop the hunter, but hadn’t been able to figure out who they were before they escaped. but the guard hadn’t concerned themselves with the bounty hunter as much as who had hired them. this turned out to be a big mistake, because the bounty hunter had decided that the best way to get to the prisoner was by holding people the coruscant guard loved hostage and threaten them. if he could get the commander to fold, then he had won.

which was how you had ended up in this predicament. one moment you had been getting ready for bed and the next you heard glass shatter as someone entered your apartment via the window. you had tried to fight off the intruder, and almost succeeded, but they managed to stun you and then the fight was over.

you slowly blink as you wake up, a dull ache in your head from being stunned. but all the sleepiness wears off as soon as you register where you are. the concrete was cold beneath your feet, and your waist and wrists were in pain from the tight rope cutting into them. you look around, concluding that you must be in a storage facility of some sort. panic quickly settles in your chest as you realize that you’re alone, and it was unlikely that anybody would be coming to rescue you. fox was overprotective, and he had probably already gone insane since you hadn’t called him to say goodnight the way you usually did. you would be surprised if he hadn’t already stormed into your apartment. 

but even if he had realized that you were gone, he would have no way of locating you. the kidnapper hadn’t exactly had the courtesy of leaving you with a way to call for help. trying to fight against the restraints was useless, and would only cause you to maim yourself. so you were stuck.

meanwhile, fox was having the worst day of his life. the bar was high, since he had seen some crazy shit during his years, but this took the cake. he was furious. why would anyone try to target you? you were just a civilian. and while your relationship with the commander wasn’t exactly a secret, it’s not like either of you were celebrities – strangers wouldn’t know about it, and even if they did, they wouldn’t have a reason to care.

he’s just about to leave your apartment when there’s an incoming transmission. he’s never answered faster, hoping that it’s you. that you just went on a stroll, although the broken window indicated otherwise. but that hope is quickly squandered when he hears the voice of the very bounty hunter that had gotten away just a few days ago.

“i have them. and if you’re smart, you’ll take the deal i’m about to give you,” the bounty hunter drawls. fox is so angry that he almost bursts a vein in his head. “if you don’t let them go right now, i will make the rest of your life so miserable you’d only wish you were dead,” he threatens. the hunter just laughs, which angers fox further. “if you give me the prisoner, you’ll get them back. and no ambushes, or else they die. you have until the morning.” 

fox has no choice. at least for now, he has to take the deal – thinking of a plan can wait. before the bounty hunter can cut the call, he accepts “i’ll accept your deal on one condition. let me talk to her.” the hunter is silent for a moment before conceding. a few moments later, he hears your voice.

“fox, what’s going on?” you ask. the panic in your voice makes his heart squeeze. “i can’t explain everything right now. just promise me you’ll be okay.” his breath stutters when he doesn’t hear an answer. how could you promise that? you were already not okay. when he realizes how impossible his request is, he takes a deep breath. “i trust you,” he spits out. the vulnerability is so foreign to him that the confession sounds hateful. but the hate wasn’t directed at you, never at you. he hated himself for even letting this happen. “do you trust me?”

“i do,” you exhale. the bounty hunter cuts the call, saying “that’s enough.” as stalks out of the room, he looks behind his shoulder, calling “for your sake, you should pray that he brings that prisoner.” but the words hardly register, your mind preoccupied with replaying fox’s words in your head. i trust you, he had said. that meant so many things. i trust you to trust me. i trust you to do the right thing. i trust you to believe in me. i trust you to be strong.

those words are the only thing keeping you together as you wait for what feels like days, all alone in the dark room. your head has been between your knees for so long that your neck has started to hurt. but you perk up when you hear the distant sound of blaster fire.

a million thoughts flash through your mind at once. it must be fox, here to save you. but the bounty hunter had said that you would die if he ambushed. fox would never let that happen. but what if he got hurt? no, he’s strong enough. but what if the bounty hunter, who had already evaded him once, was too strong? 

the sound of the doors sliding open cuts through your thoughts. at first, you only see a shadow, and for a split second you panic thinking that the bounty hunter had come here to finish the job. but as the shadow comes a little closer you realize it’s a man in clone trooper armour; and not just any armour, it was fox’s. he breaks into a run, pulling out a knife to cut through your restraints the moment he gets close enough. 

you two reach for one another at the same time, and fox holds you so tight that it crushes you a little. “are you hurt?” he mumbles into your neck. “no, you saved me.” fox takes a shaky breath, thanking the stars that his ambush had actually worked and that you were still here, and unharmed at that. he wordlessly picks you up, carrying you out of the room. 

“i can walk by myself, y’know,” you say, but the expression on your face indicated that you didn’t mind this situation at all. “not a chance. you’re staying with me tonight.” he says definitively. “aww, are you worried about me, commander?” you tease. he scowls. “stow it.”