#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

You didn’t even manage to fully sit up before arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you back into the firm, warm chest of your sergeant. You let out an airy giggle as one of his arms locked firmly around you, the other quickly pulling the blanket back up to your chin before retreating back under the covers and finding its home on your waist.

“And just where do you think you’re going?” Hunter said in his devilishly sultry morning voice. There was an underlying smokiness to it which made your legs weak and core clench.

“I was gonna-“

“Try to sneak out of bed?”

“No, I was going to get out of bed to make breakfast you goofball. It’s almost 8 and we have work today.”

Hunter only grunted in response and instead, rolled your body over to face him, resting his chin on top of your head.

“We don’t have to go for a little bit,” Hunter said sleepily, a yawn leaving his lips as he held you. He didn’t want to leave the warm, cozy comfort of your bed just yet, content to just hold you in his arms forever. You let out another giggle, loving how clingy Hunter got in the mornings. There was something endearing about how he held you, kissed your forehead, whispered sweet nothing in your ear. It made you look forward to waking up in the morning but also going to sleep at night.

Hunters hands around your waist tightened ever so slightly, giving you two pulsing squeezing before relaxing again. You smiled and returned the gesture, giving his shoulder the same two pulsing squeezes before snuggling into him once more.

It was a gesture that had started during the war, a small sign to let each other know the other was okay. And now it represented your unwavering love for one another. It was calm, peaceful and safe.

“Hunter?”

”Hm?”

“I love you so much,” you said, placing a kiss to his scruffy chin, smiling at the happy rumble that came from his chest.

“Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum ner cyare,” Hunter said, the Mando’a rolling off his tongue in a way that made you keen happily. Hunter chuckled and smoothed his hand down your back, giving your bum a couple squeezes as well. You just laughed and playfully swatted his chest, trying and failing to keep your composure.

“You’re such a man.”

“You love me though hm?”

“Always have and always will.”

Wrecker

Wreckers snores luckily drowned out the sounds of the floor boards, making it easier to slip out of bed. However, that just had to be the moment when Wrecker rolled over onto his other side, arm outstretched and feeling around your side of the bed for you.

“Wha-“ he slurred, his mind waking up ever so slightly to register that you had moved. You turned your head to gaze over your shoulder at him, smiling as his sleepy eyes met yours.

“Good morning sweetheart,” you said and Wrecker looked around, his brain still trying to catch up with his body.

“Whas-Whas gon on?” His words were slurred sleepily and you couldn’t help but giggle at how adorable he was. You reached back and placed a hand on his cheek, stroking it with your thumb. Wrecker turned his attention back to you, laying his head back down on the pillow as your soft hand caressed his face.

“Goo mornin babe,” he said, his voice still heavy with sleep, but his good eyes looked at you half lidded and lovingly.

“I’m going to make breakfast. Anything special you want?” You asked, smiling as Wrecker shook his head. Instead of responding with words, he carefully and delicately gripped your wrist, pulling you back toward him with his strength. You let out a quiet yelp as you were brought back into his warm embrace, body warming upas he held you.

“Wan you to stay in bed,” Wrecker said, closing his eyes again and already letting the peacefulness of your presence lull him back to sleep. You giggled softly and tried to leave once again but Wrecker only tighten his gentle grip on you, adjusting positions so that he was spooning you properly and comfortably. All you could do was lay there, accepting the fact that the cuddle monster had gotten you and you were now bound to stay in bed for at least another hour.

“You’re silly you know that?” You said and took wreckers hand in your own, lacing your fingered together as you closed your eyes again.

“You wuv me,” Wrecker replied, his voice already quiet and on the verge of sleep again.

“I do wuv you, my sleepy giant.”

Tech

“Darling?” Tech’s groggy morning voice stoped you in your tracks, making you curse under you breath. You hadn’t wanted to wake him, especially considering that a sleeping Tech was a rare sight. You peaked over your shoulder to see him rubbing his eyes, a yawn leaving his mouth with a small drabble of drool at the corner.

The adorable sight made you giggle, turning back around to wipe his mouth, holding his cheek in your hand and thumbing along his cheek bone. Tech closed his eyes and nuzzled into your hand, placing his slightly larger, warm hand over yours.

“I was going to get up to go to the market. Would you like anything?” You asked softly, already watching as Tech’s eyes began to close again. He really was tired and having you here with him meant comfort, warmth, safety and staying in bed. Tech just shook his head and instead, pulled the blankets back up, trapping you under them with him.

“Tech-“ you were cut off as he sleepily kissed your forehead, cocooning you in his embrace.

“Can we go together later?” Tech asked, tightening his hold on you as his breathing evened out again. You smiled and nodded, even if he couldn’t see it but he felt it. You could feel the way his muscles relaxed even further, his body going soft as it held you.

“We can. Just want to go back to sleep?” You asked, running a hand through his soft brown locks, feeling the way he shivered at the affectionate touch, a sleepy smile on his lips.

“Mmhmm, I require at lease another standard hour,” he said, words muffled and slurred as he spoke into your chest. You just smiled and kissed his forehead, wiggling to get into a more comfortable position.

“I love you Tech,” you whispered, hearing a low rumble and slightly muffled “I love you too,” into your chest. Tech was already asleep again by the time you closed your eyes, his arm locked around your waist and his nose wrinkled in the cutest way.

You smiled down at him lovingly, yawning as you were pulled back into the subconscious plain of dreams, content to stay in bed forever if Tech was by your side.

Crosshair

“Get back here,” the words made you stop, not daring to turn around to see the cheeky sniper who lay beside you. He was very clingy in the morning, especially if he was comfortable and would only get out of bed when his stomach began to growl louder than Wreckers snores.

“I was going to go for a walk by the water,” you said softly, chancing a glance over to him. Crosshair was curled up on his side facing you, left eye still closed but his right eye peered at you through sleepy lashes He wore a tired pout, blankets bunched up in his fists. You couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on your lips as you looked at him. No matter how many morning you woke up next to him, he was still the most handsome man you’d ever met.

“A walk can wait. I wasn’t done sleeping,” he said, his voice dripping in sarcasm and fake seriousness that you couldn’t help but giggle at, shaking your head as you swung your legs back into the bed. You smiled as Crosshair gave a fake serious nod before pulling you into his body, koala hugging you with the blankets still in his grasp. His hands found their way to your chest, giving a gentle yet possessive squeeze to your breasts, using them like a stress ball.

You laughed this time while stifling a moan, kissing your sleepy snipers forehead, freeing one of your arms from his grip to scratch his head. You felt a rumble of contentment from his chest, his muscles relaxing again as he held you.

“Don’t do that again,” he grumbled sleepily, adjusting to ensure you had enough blanket but also to make sure you couldn’t slip out of his arms again. You just giggled again and placed another kiss to his forehead.

“I won’t Cross. Go back to sleep, Eva go for a walk together in a couple hours,” you said softly, already feeling his breathing evening out again. The only acknowledgment you got that he had heard you was a subtle nod into your shoulder, his arms loosening just a little as he reentered the realm of dreams.

“Sleep well Cross,” you said giving him one more kiss before you closed your eyes again, feeling safe in the arms of your blanket thieving, koala sleeping sniper.

Echo

Only to have a cool hand grab your hand, holding you gently in place. You turned your head to look at Echo who was rubbing his eye with his other hand, pout on his lips as he looked at you.

“Don’t go,” he said, almost so quiet you didn’t hear him, but luckily you did. You smiled softly at him before bringing your legs back into bed, lying down to face your handsome trooper.

“I was just going to make us some food,” you said, moving your hand to cup his cheek gently. Echo leaned into the warmth of your hand, pulling you closer to his body and tangling his legs with yours.

“Stay. Please?” He asked, gazing at you pleadingly. The look on his face clued you into the fact that he must’ve had a bit of a rough sleep last night, nodding in response to Echos request.

“I won’t go until you’re ready to get out of bed okay?” You said with a gentle smile. Echo returned it and held you close, closing his eyes and leaning into for a kiss. You reciprocated, meeting his lips halfway. The kiss was gentle and inviting, both of your bodies relaxing into one another as you went on.

Echos hand began to wander as the kiss deepened, one of them carefully tangling in your hair as the other found your bum, giving it a loving squeeze. You moaned into his mouth. Your hand running up and down his back, being mindful of the ports that still protruded from them.

“Wanna have a little fun before breakfast?” He asked, a cheeky smile on his handsome face. You beamed at him, giggling as he rolled you into your back.

“I’d love too,” you breathed as Echo leaned down and connected your lips once more.

I’m back! It’s been a very long, impromptu hiatus but I am alive I promise. I’ve got plenty of stories in the works, it’s just about getting them out of my brain and onto this app.

You knelt beside him with your kit spread out. "Hold still," you murmured, your voice a soothing barrier to the ship's low rumble. Echo's eyes met yours, a mix of frustration and fondness flickering there.

"It's just a glitch," he protested, though he didn't pull away as you gently detached the lower panel on his leg. Your fingers brushed against the cool metal, tracing wires that intertwined with what remained of his organic flesh. You'd learned his systems inside out over the months, not just as a medic but as his partner.

"A glitch that could turn into a full shutdown if we ignore it," you replied, scanning the damage with your device. The readouts blinked green mostly, but a red warning pulsed for the servo. You reached for a tool, your other hand resting on his thigh for stability. Echo's breath hitched slightly; not from pain, but from the warmth of your touch cutting through.

He watched you work, smiling lightly at the way your brow furrowed in concentration. "You know, before you joined, Tech sometimes just would slap some tape on it and keep going." His voice was light, but there was a hint of vulnerability.

You paused, setting the tool down to cup his face. Your thumb tracing along his jaw. "Well im now here to looking after you, Echo. You’re not alone in this." Leaning in, you pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.

He closed his eyes, leaning into it, the tension easing from his shoulders.

Resuming the repair, you rerouted the wiring. As the servo whirred back to life, Echo flexed his leg experimentally. "Feels good," he admitted, sitting up only to then pull you into his lap.

You smiled, checking his vitals one last time: heart rate steady, systems nominal. "Vitals holding," you whispered, echoing the phrase that had become your shared mantra after tough days. Echo's lips found yours in a grateful kiss, a silent thank you for seeing him whole.

Hunter

word count: 536

The Marauder’s engines idled low as the ship settled into a quiet landing on a forested moon, far from any Imperial patrols.

The mission had been simple reconnaissance but the dense undergrowth and sudden rain had turned it into hard work. Harder than it had to be.

Hunter had pushed through without complaint, as always. The usefulness of his enhanced senses guided the squad but the constant barrage of scents, sounds, and electromagnetic pulses had left him quietly frayed.

Now, he sat on the edge of a bunk, elbows on knees and head bowed. The infamous bandana was off with dark hair falling loose over his face.

With a look of concern, you stepped up to him quietly whilst carrying a damp cloth and a small vial of soothing balm of your own recipe.

“Rough one out there?” you asked softly, kneeling between his legs so you were eye-level with him.

Hunter exhaled through his nose, a sound that was half sigh, half reluctant admission. “Everything was loud. Too loud. The rain on leaves, every insect wingbeat for klicks around…” He rubbed at his temple. “Felt like my skull was vibrating.”

You reached up, fingers brushing his cheek before sliding into his hair. He leaned into the touch instinctively, eyes fluttering closed. Your thumb traced slow circles at his scalp, right where the tension always gathered. “You carried us through it anyway. Like always.”

A faint, crooked smile tugged at his lips. “Had to. Couldn’t let you get lost in the mud again.”

You chuckled quietly, dipping the cloth in cool water and pressing it gently to the back of his neck. He shivered once from relief. You worked in silence for a moment, letting the damp fabric ease the ache.

“Lie back,” you murmured.

He hesitated, the leader in him reluctant to fully let go, but your hand on his chest was steady and grounding. He reclined slowly, stretching out on the bunk. You sat beside him, one hand resting over his heart.

With careful fingers, you massaged the balm into his temples, then down along his jaw, working out the tightness. Hunter’s breathing depened, slowing as the sensory storm inside him began to quiet. Every so often, he’d hum softly, a low sound of contentment that you know he’d never admit to making.

“You don’t have to be on all the time,” you whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. “Not with me.”

His hand found yours, lacing fingers together. “I know,” he said, voice rough but soft. “Just… takes time to turn it off.”

“Then let me help.” You shifted closer, tucking yourself against his side. He wrapped an arm around you without hesitation, pulling you in until your head rested on his chest. The steady thump-thump beneath your ear.

Hunter’s free hand came up to stroke your hair, mirroring the way you’d soothed him. The ship’s hum faded into background noise; the galaxy outside could wait.

After a long while, he murmured against your temple, “Vitals holding.”

You smiled into his chest. “Vitals holding.”

He pressed a lingering kiss to the top of your head, the last of the tension melting away in the quiet safety of your arms.

Wrecker

word count: 614

The Marauder’s cargo hold was quieter than usual, the usual clatter of Wrecker’s laughter replaced by a low, frustrated grunt. He sat on an overturned crate, one hand pressed to his lower back.

The mission had wrapped up hours ago but Wrecker had insisted on hauling the last heavy munitions crate aboard himself. “I got it!” he’d boomed, grinning wide. That was until a sharp twinge hit, deep in his back muscles. Now here he was: the strongest clone in the Batch, felled by his own enthusiasm.

You found him like that, shoulders hunched, staring at the floor as if it had personally betrayed him. The embarrassment was written all over his face. Jaw tight and eyes avoiding yours.

“Hey, big guy,” you said gently, stepping into the hold with your medkit slung over one shoulder. “Heard you took on a crate and lost.”

Wrecker huffed, a sound that tried to be a laugh but landed somewhere closer to a groan. “Didn’t lose. Just… reminded it who’s boss. A little too hard.” He shifted, winced, and immediately tried to play it off with a forced grin. “I’m fine. Really. Jus’ need a minute.”

You set the kit down and moved to stand in front of him, close enough that he had to look up at you. “You’re not fine. And it’s okay to not be fine.” Your voice was calm, no judgment, just the steady certainty he always leaned on. “Let me see.”

He hesitated, pride warring with the ache, but eventually he let his hand drop and turned slightly so you could reach his back. You knelt behind him on the crate, fingers gentle as you pressed along his lumbar muscles. The knot was tight, hot and angry from the sudden strain. Wrecker sucked in a breath through his teeth.

“Easy,” you murmured, already reaching for the warming salve. “You pulled something good here. Nothing torn, but you’re gonna feel this tomorrow if we don’t loosen it up now.”

He let out a long, defeated sigh. “Hurt by liftin’ a kriffin’ box.” His voice cracked just a little on the last word, the embarrassment giving way. “What kinda soldier does that?”

You paused, hands still on his back, then leaned forward until your forehead rested lightly against the back of his shoulder. “The kind who cares more about getting the job done for his squad than looking invincible.” You kissed the spot between his shoulder blades, right over the scar from an old explosive. “And the kind who’s allowed to hurt sometimes. Even the biggest ones.”

Wrecker went still, then slowly relaxed under your touch. You worked the salve in with slow, firm circles, thumbs digging just enough to ease the spasm without pushing too hard. Every time he tensed, you eased off, waiting for him to breathe through it. Gradually, the knots began to give.

“Better?” you asked after a while.

“Yeah… a lot. Still stings, but not like before.” He turned his head, catching your eye over his shoulder. The grin was smaller this time, but real. “Thanks, mesh’la. Didn’t mean to be a baby about it.”

“You weren’t.” You slid around to sit beside him, tucking yourself under his arm. He wrapped it around you immediately, pulling you against his side like you were the most precious cargo he’d ever carried.

You rested your hand over his heart, feeling the steady, powerful beat. “So, are your vitals holding?”

Wrecker chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest into your palm. “Vitals holdin’. Thanks to you.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, lingering there, and for once didn’t try to hide how much he needed the quiet comfort.

Tech

word count: 661

The back room of Cid's Parlor smelled like stale smoke and cheap liquor.

As the main cantina buzzed faintly beyond the beaded curtain, Tech sat at Cid’s desk that she had grudgingly given and one leg propped up on a crate from the fracture he had endured form the cargo container collapse.

You pushed through the curtain with your medkit, the beads clacking softly behind you. Cid had cleared out at that point, muttering something about "not running a free clinic", leaving just the two of you.

Yet he was no longer sitting down, instead he was standing awkwardly and looking through the grumpy Trandoshan's collection of random stuff she had collected.

"I told you to stay off it," you said, setting the tray down on the desk with a deliberate clunk.

Tech didn't turn around. "I am off it. Most of my weight is on the good leg. Statistically, this qualifies as minimal load-bearing.”

"You're also standing. On a fractured leg. In a bacta cast that's still setting."

He glanced over his shoulder, goggles catching the low light. "The cast has reached its polymerisation point. I was just… looking at possible useful junk. For later."

"Uh-huh." You stepped closer, "Sit. Before I make you."

He let out a quiet breath, half annoyed and half amused, but he didn't fight it. He eased himself back onto the chair, leg stretched out.

You knelt in front of him, "You're doing that thing again," you say softly, voice warm and teasing. "Talking tech to hide that you're hurting."

"I'm not hiding anything. Pain is just… information. I was only—"

You placed your palm lightly over his chest, right where his heart was beating faster than usual under his armour. "Your heart's telling a different story."

Tech went still. His eyes dropped to your hand, then flicked back to your face. "That is… an elevated heart rate attributable to—"

You tilted your head, fingers trailing up to brush along his jaw, nudging his goggles up just enough to see the heat on his cheeks. "Or maybe because you like when I take care of you?"

He blinked rapidly behind the lenses, processing. "I… find your presence efficacious for recovery. Statistically speaking, positive emotional stimuli can accelerate—"

You leaned in, lips brushing his. Tech froze for a second, then leaned into it, one hand coming up to rest carefully at the back of your neck.

The kiss deepened just enough to make him forget the ache for a moment. You pulled back barely an inch, forehead resting against his. "Better?"

He let out a shaky breath, "Much better. Though I'd like… more proof it's working."

“Behave, Tech.” You playfully roll your eyes, smirking quietly at his disappointment of not getting another kiss just yet.

With steady hands, you adjusted the bacta cast and started the compression wrap carefully. He usually makes a comment on how uneven it is but this time Tech stayed quiet, just watching, breathing steady, his fingers occasionally brushing your arm like he needed the contact.

When you finished, you started to stand, but Tech's hand caught yours gently. "Come here." He tugged lightly, but insistent.

You raised an eyebrow, but let him guide you. With a careful shift of his good leg to make space, he pulled you down onto his lap, settling you sideways across his thighs so your weight didn't press on the injured one. His arm wrapped around your waist immediately, holding you close against his chest. Moments like this with him are rare so you wasted no time in tucking your head under his chin.

With one hand, you rest it over his heart again, feeling it slow to a calm, even rhythm now.

The parlor's distant noise felt miles away. Just the two of you in the cluttered back room, tangled together in the chair. You smiled into his neck. "Vitals holding?"

Tech pressed a soft kiss to your temple, voice low and content. "Vitals holding."

Crosshair

word count: 544

You found him in the refresher to your shared apartment, door half-open, the mirror fogged from a recent shower. He stood shirtless, one hand braced against the sink, the other fumbling with a bloodied cloth pressed to his left side. A shallow but stubborn gash that caught on jagged durasteel ran along his ribs.

It was not life-threatening, but it wept fresh blood every time he tried to clean or close it one handed. The angle was impossible now; his missing hand left him reaching awkwardly.

Crosshair never asked for help. Not ever. So when you stepped in quietly, he didn’t look up, just kept trying, jaw clenched so tight the muscle jumped.

“Out,” he muttered.

You didn’t move. Instead you stepped fully inside. “You’re making it worse. Sit.”

“I said—”

“Crosshair.” Your tone was quiet and firm. You reached past him for a clean towel from the rack, then guided him to perch on the edge of the low tub. He resisted for half a second but let himself be moved.

You knelt in front of him and you peeled the soaked cloth away. The wound was angry but clean enough to stitch. You exhaled slowly through your nose, fighting the urge to scold him for being reckless with his own body.

“Why do you do this?” you asked, voice softer now as you reached for the bactaspray. “You know I’m right here.”

He stared at a point over your shoulder, refusing to meet your eyes. “Habit. Fix it myself. Always have.”

“Not anymore.” You dabbed the wound clean, careful around the inflamed edges. He hissed once, barely audible, but didn’t pull away.

When the first stitch went in, his remaining hand twitched toward yours like he might stop you. Instead, his fingers curled loosely around your wrist. Just… holding.

You paused, needle hovering. “Talk to me.”

Crosshair’s gaze finally dropped. “Can’t reach it anymore,” he muttered, so quiet you almost missed it. “Feels… wrong. Needing you for something this basic.”

You resumed stitching, slow and precise. “It’s not wrong. It’s just different.” You explained. “And I’m glad I’m here for the different parts.”

He didn’t argue. Just watched your face as you worked, the tension in his shoulders easing stitch by stitch. When you tied off the last knot and smoothed a fresh bandage over it, he exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for hours.

You stayed kneeling there, hands resting lightly on his thighs. “Better?”

He finally looked at you, really looked. The usual guarded sharpness had cracked, leaving something raw underneath. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re stubborn.” You rose enough to lean in, brushing your lips against his in a kiss that was gentle and unhurried. He froze for a heartbeat, then tilted his head to meet you properly.

When you pulled back, you rested your forehead against his. “Vitals holding?”

Crosshair’s lips curved, just the barest hint of a smirk. “Vitals holding.” His thumb brushed your cheek. “Thanks to you.”

You helped him stand, steadying him as the adrenaline crash made his legs unsteady. He didn’t protest when you wrapped an arm around his waist, guiding him out of the refresher and toward the bed. For once, the sniper let himself be taken care of quietly, stubbornly, but completely.

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