Bad Batch Fanfiction - Tumblr Posts

Like Echo

Summary: While the group’s ship is landed, a loth-cat stumbles into the ship. Shenanigans ensue.

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

“I got it!” Echo exclaimed, reaching out for the loth-cat before tripping and face-planting onto the floor.

“How did it even get in the ship?” Hunter shouted, still chasing after the creature.

Tech side-eyed Wrecker, “Probably because someone forgot to close the doors while we were gone.”

“Well why don’t you-”

Hunter ignored the two, running after the creature. Then he noticed something hanging out of its mouth - Omega’s clone trooper doll.

He stopped chasing the creature, approaching slowly and holding his hands up, “Alright, just…drop it. Okay? Drop it.”

The loth-cat tilted its head to the side.

Once Hunter got close, he tried to gently take the doll from its mouth, but the creature jolted, tearing the doll and running outside the ship. He sighed.

Echo closed the doors once the creature was outside, “Well, that could have gone better.”

“If it’s any consolation, it also could have gone worse,” Tech tried.

“The ship is a mess.”

“Ha!” Wrecker laughed, “When is it not?”

Hunter cleared his throat to gain the attention of the group.

“Guys, bad news,” he said, holding up Omega’s doll, which was now missing its legs.

“Do you have any cloth?” Tech piped up, “Perhaps I could fix it.”

“Fix what?” Omega said, coming out of her bedroom.

“Uh, sorry, kid,” Hunter leaned down and gave her the doll, along with a sympathetic look.

“Tech said he could, ah, try to fix it, if you want?” Wrecker said, Echo nodding in agreement.

Tech perked up, “Yes, indeed. It would be no trouble at all.”

The batch waited nervously as Omega inspected the doll. It was one of the small comforts for the child in all this mayhem, and now it was broken.

“No,” Omega shook her head, “I like it like this! She looks kinda like Echo now, see?” Omega smiled, holding up the doll proudly.

Echo flushed, taken aback.

Hunter chuckled, smiling at Echo, “I guess she does, huh?”

“In that case,” Tech chimed in, “Would you also like her to have prostheses? I believe we have some tinfoil.”

Wrecker scoffed, “Tinfoil’s weak! Give ‘er some metal ones so she can do some real damage!”

“Metal isn’t a very suitable material for a doll,” Tech pointed out.

Omega wasn’t paying much attention to the conversation, instead happily fidgeting with her doll like she always did.

Echo looked down at his prosthetic legs, and then at Omega happily playing with her doll, and smiled.

Loved this idea and story...wish there was more to this though.

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo & Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo & Hunter & Omega & Tech & Wrecker (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Jango Fett & the Clones, CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo & CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives Characters: CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo, Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Jango Fett, Boba Fett, Clone Force 99 | Bad Batch Additional Tags: Angst, Introspection, Kaminoans Being Assholes (Star Wars), Clone Trooper Reconditioning (Star Wars), Mind Manipulation, Post-Season/Series 01, Medical Experimentation, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Good Parent Jango Fett, until the Kaminoans meddled, perceived character death, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Hopeful Ending, CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo & CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives are Twins, CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo Needs a Hug, Timeline What Timeline, I mess with them just a little, not noticeable just the Kamino years Series: Part 12 of Star Wars One-shots and unfinished WIPs. Summary:

Echo was the oldest of the Bad Batch, and he was sure they knew it. But he knew they didn’t know quite how much older he was. He was a lot older than they realised, he remembered things they weren’t alive for. And before she met them in that corridor, he remembered Omega.

This is such an amazing story!!! Love it!

When You Wake

Written for the @summer-of-bad-batch prompts "Hold still" and "Don't avoid the question."

Hunter wonders what he will tell Omega after she wakes up from her injuries. Set during Plan 99. Angst, grief, overall sads. ~1895 words.

---

“Please, CT-9901. Hold still,” AZI said. Hunter knew the medical droid’s voice was meant to be soothing, but the words were like shattered transparisteel, tearing at his ears.

Hunter took a deep breath. Tried to listen to the droid. But his eyes kept darting to where Omega lay huddled limply on the bed, still unconscious. Wrecker sat at her bedside, trying to remain strong for her. But the brace around his neck, the slump of his shoulders, the raggedness of the rise and fall of his chest all showed he was barely doing better than she was. 

“Why won’t she wake up?” Hunter asked in a hoarse voice as the droid continued placing a sturdy wrap around his chest.

“She will,” AZI said. “You must give her time. She experienced a concussion and pulmonary contusions. She will recover, but even with my care recovery is not instantaneous. All of your injuries are serious, and will take time to mend.”

Hunter bit his lip as the droid finished wrapping his chest. Between the extra support and the medication the droid had already given him, the pain was finally receding. 

The physical pain, anyway.

Don’t think about him. Don’t think about the fall. Don’t --

“Am I good?” Hunter muttered.

“Yes, CT-9901. You will make a full recovery with appropriate rest. Would you like me to stay in here and continue monitoring Omega, or --”

“Go. Please.”

Hunter exhaled heavily. The droid had saved them; Hunter didn’t know what would have happened to Omega or Wrecker without AZI’s work, but Hunter couldn’t stand looking at him and his cheerful demeanor a moment longer. 

“I will be waiting in the bar, should anything in her condition change.” The droid hovered out of sight, his servos buzzing and grating. Everything felt too loud right now, too sharp, too much.

Hunter stiffly got to his feet, resting a hand briefly on Wrecker’s back for support. Together they looked down at Omega, neither of them able to speak.

Hunter shuddered, remembering the sight and smell of her little cap, soaked through with blood. Luckily AZI had been able to stitch the wound in her scalp and clean her hair, though Hunter could still pick up a faint whiff of dried blood in the thick, close air of the back room. 

How could she look so calm right now, like nothing had happened?

When everything had happened?

Wrecker painstakingly stood up, face twisting with effort. “Here. You -- you should sit with her. I’ll go.”

Hunter looked into his brother’s face, seeing puffy, reddened eyes. “But what do I say to her? When she wakes up?”

Wrecker shook his head, tears threatening again. “I don’t know. I can’t -- don’t -- don’t make me.” He grimaced, looking past Hunter as if seeing something far away. “She won’t wanna see me. I could’ve stopped him, Hunter -- I could’ve saved --”

Wrecker, get him up here!

Hunter reached out a trembling hand. Laid it on Wrecker’s shoulder. Shook his head. “No you couldn’t,” he said, voice dull and empty. “And neither could I.”

---

They’d talked about it once, days before their first mission.

Tech glowed. He scribbled his thoughts on the walls, plans a dozen times over, a manic burst of ideas. There were plans where Hunter infiltrated, where Wrecker smashed or exploded, where Tech used the Seppies’ own droids against them, where Crosshair set off a chain reaction with his mirrors. They strategized long into the night, nearly giddy with making up more plans: some of them insane, some of them just good clean fun blowing up clankers. 

Until Crosshair swiped Tech’s datapad five hours past lights out, scrolling down idly and then looking puzzled. “You haven’t gone over this one. What’s Plan 99? There’s no details, nothing else, just the number.” 

Tech grabbed it back. “Ah. It’s -- it’s nothing.”

“Tech, it’s always something with you,” said Hunter. 

“Yeah. Don’t avoid the question,” Wrecker said, yawning. “Unless Plan 99’s going to bed an’ getting some shut-eye. These plans are fun, Tech, but I’m never gonna remember ‘em all.”

Tech frowned. “Very well. You recall 99, our fellow defective clone.”

“Old 99,” Wrecker said, his eyes going soft. “He was a hero.”

“He showed those regs a thing or two,” Crosshair said, nodding respectfully. “But what’s he got to do with our plans? He’s been gone a long time.”

Hunter sighed. “I think I know what it means.” He gave Tech a long look. “Self-sacrifice, is it?”

Tech nodded. “We are soldiers and clones. Statistically speaking, it is highly unlikely that we will die of old age. I had thought that discussing it now might bring down the mood, so to speak, so I had not mentioned it before.” He looked around at them, the smiles from a few minutes ago all faded. “I see I was correct.”

“You all can be emotional about it if you want,” Crosshair scoffed. “But I wouldn’t miss any of you.”

“Bantha shit,” Wrecker said, punching Crosshair in the shoulder. Crosshair winced, rubbing his shoulder hard and scowling. “You’d miss me the most, and you know it!”

“That is irrelevant, if the mission requires it,” Tech said. “As it well may, in service of the greater good.”

“Look, Tech, don’t tell me the odds,” Hunter said. “Let’s just do our best to get through the war. This squad is something special. The regs might call it being defective, but I call it being better. That’s how we’re gonna get through this war -- being better together. So that means Plan 99 should only be the ultimate last resort. Understood?”

“Understood,” Wrecker and Crosshair said.

“Of course,” Tech agreed, blinking and adjusting his goggles. “I have no desire to implement Plan 99. It is only that it is a possibility that must be considered.”

---

A possibility.

An eventuality.

Hunter sat in the chair, his skin crawling, his mind blank hissing static.

Omega still lay unconscious, her heartbeat pulsing faintly, a soft rhythm he could sense beneath her gentle exhalations. The rhythm was slightly off from what he had attuned himself to on countless nights on the Marauder, its pattern disturbed by injury. But AZI had said she would be waking up, and soon.

What could Hunter possibly say to her?

He sat there, desperately hoping she would wake up and be all right, desperately hoping she would stay asleep. If she kept sleeping, he wouldn’t have to see her face when she woke up and realized Tech was gone.

She breathed in. Breathed out. He reached out, gently brushing a lock of hair back from her cheek. His hand froze, and he pulled it back.

He closed his eyes, but then there was Tech’s voice in his mind, resolute, determined, resigned. When have we ever followed orders? 

He couldn’t dwell on that. Couldn’t listen to it again. He reached out, opening his senses, desperately seeking distraction. Anything to keep the memory from playing back again and again. His leg twitched, jittering up and down as he opened his senses as fully as he could.

The room air pressed in on him, warm and stuffy and suffocating. A bead of sweat dripped down his cheek, having slipped past his bandanna. The whine of Cid’s neon lights in the next room buzzed and prickled in his ears. He took a deep breath of the warm air, pulling in the smell of stale alcohol, crumbs of Mantell mix ground into the floorboards, hints of blood and sweat and body odor of a dozen different species. 

The floor in the hallway creaked, the sound consistent with someone stopping at the door and looking inside the room. Hunter didn’t bother turning around to see who it was. He knew it was Cid, between the pattern of the footfalls, the pitch of the creaking, the metallic scents of Trandoshan pheromones. His nose twitched, picking up a difference in Cid’s scent. Something was off with her pheromones, but he didn’t know enough about her species to guess what it meant. Maybe it was worry for the kid. Maybe it was regret. Maybe she was just hungry. 

He didn’t know, didn’t care. The slow heavy footsteps started up again, kept going down the hall.

His hand slid to his gauntlet, unsheathing his blade. Twirling the blade had become a habit long ago, as unconscious and automatic as Crosshair chewing his toothpicks or Tech scrolling his datapad. He hesitated, the blade’s weight and heft wholly familiar in his hand, and yet something seemed off. 

He twirled it lazily. No, nothing was wrong with the knife. He picked up the rhythm, blade spinning dangerously between his fingers -- 

Kriff. The blade clattered to the floor, narrowly avoiding slicing through his glove. It rattled him, looking down at it laying between his feet. 

Nothing was wrong with the blade. It was wrong with him.

Hunter picked up the blade, shoving it roughly back into his gauntlet. What was he doing? Stupid distractions when he should be thinking about Omega. About what he could possibly say to her.

I’m sorry, kid. We couldn’t save him. Nobody could. (But what if Wrecker had been able to get him up in time? What if we’d been faster getting out? What if we’d waited for backup?)

I’m sorry, Omega. Tech knew it was the only way.  (Did he? He was a genius. He should have figured something else out! How could he have fucked up like this? How could he leave us like this?)

I’m sorry I failed him. And you. And Crosshair. (Crosshair should’ve come with us, should’ve left the Empire when he had the chance. Then we would’ve never gone to Eriadu. This is his damn fault, all of it!)

I’m sorry I wasn’t a better leader. I’m so sorry, kid. 

(It’s on me. All of it. All of it.)

The pain roared within him, but it wasn’t the pain of broken ribs and torn muscles. It went deeper than that, dug itself deep into the very heart of him, emptied him out of everything but guilt and loss and disbelief. It took his breath away. He wrapped his arms around his injured chest, fingers digging into his sides, squeezing hard enough that the physical pain broke through again. He threw himself into it, drowned himself in the way his body jangled and ached.

He panted, grimacing. This he could deal with. This he could live with. But the emptiness, the awful truth that Tech was gone -- how was he supposed to live with that? How was he supposed to help Omega through it?

Hunter slumped forward, releasing his grip, taking a deep, jagged breath. His head swam.

He didn’t know how to do it.

He was going to do it anyway.

Hunter swallowed, nodding, and sat up despite the way his body protested. He watched Omega resting, her young face forgetful for just a little while longer.

He’d be there for her, no matter what. His resolve hardened, and he thought of sunny days on Pabu, the sound of waves on the beach, a town of people who did not practice war. He thought of childhood, something none of them had ever known. 

He hadn’t been able to save Crosshair from himself or the Empire.

He hadn’t been able to save Tech.

He’d save Omega if it killed him.

“I’m gonna keep you safe, kid,” Hunter whispered. “I promise.”

Love this!!!

I Won't Leave You

Crosshair & Hunter

Warnings: intense training, discussion of decommissioning, loss of squad members (OCs that I made to explain why Tech seems to carry multiple roles), resignation to a supposed death

Note: this fic is not clone shipping. Nothing I write is clone shipping.

Mando'a Guide Osik'uram - rude person (literally "shit mouth") Di'kut - idiot

Crosshair’s arms were getting sore from holding up the too large rifle. The weight of it was familiar, but it had been hours of holding it up; his arms were getting weaker. 

“CT-9904,” the surly bounty hunter—who was now his instructor—growled. “How can you possibly expect to be a sniper if you can’t hold still?”

Crosshair knew it was a rhetorical question; he’d been punished for “speaking out of turn” when he’d answered before. He wouldn’t answer him this time, despite the resentment boiling in his gut. Instead he just rolled his eyes under the cover of his helmet. 

“Run it again,” the instructor warned. “Do better this time.”

That all too familiar knot formed in Crosshair’s throat, but he swallowed it down. Soldiers didn’t get nervous, right?

The simulation began and he fell into a rapid rhythm, taking down training droids one by one. 

Simulated sounds of war blared over the speakers; explosions all around him, screams of people being injured, never ending blasterfire. Then the rain started. Crosshair felt the temperature in the room drop. He hated the cold. His hands tightened on his rifle, but did not stop his rhythmic firing. 

The rain grew colder and heavier until it would be nearly impossible for anyone to see clearly through it, but Crosshair wasn’t just anyone. His eyes adjusted rapidly, easily seeing through the sheets of freezing rain. 

He’d been counting, of course. He only had 14 more targets and the simulation would be over. Maybe I can leave after this round, he thought, knowing that this was only the eighth time they’d been through this simulation today. Idly, he wondered how his brothers were fairing in their training today. 

A noise behind him nearly startled him, breaking his concentration and his rhythm. He spun around just in time to see the blue circle of stun bolt about to hit him. 

He woke up in a medical bay, head aching and eyes burning from the bright lights overhead. 

A medical droid hovered next to him. “CT-9904, you are awake,” it told him. “I will alert the medic.”

Crosshair watched the droid go, irritated by its happy tone, then closed his aching eyes. 

“Hey, Cross,” someone said. That voice was far too familiar. 

“Hunter,” he replied simply. 

“You okay?”

Crosshair didn’t answer, his brow furrowing into the deep scowl. 

“Right, stupid question,” Hunter admitted. “Are you hurt?”

“Don’t think so,” Crosshair shrugged. “Head hurts. Lights are too bright.”

Hunter wasn’t sure what to say, but as the newly minted leader of their squad, he figured it ought to be something positive. “Don’t worry, Cross, you’ll get it next time.”

Crosshair sighed. “There won’t be a next time, Hunter.”

Hunter scowled at his slightly younger brother, even though the other couldn’t see him. “Don’t talk like that.”

“We should just accept it,” Crosshair shrugged. “I got lucky during the initial testing; I only outshot Tech by six points.”

“Crosshair, you were made to-”

“I hate that he’ll have to take my job when he’s already got Fixer and Bugg’s on top of his own.”

“Cross-”

“Maybe you could take on piloting, too,” he suggested, ignoring his brother and squad leader’s attempts at redirecting the conversation. “I know you scored higher than me and Wrecker.”

“Would you just-”

“Oh! And make sure you don’t tell Wrecker that 99 and I made Lula for him; I’ve got an image to maintain even after I’m dead.”

“You’re not gonna-”

“You gotta make sure Tech sleeps. I know he’ll be busy with four roles instead of three, but he’ll work himself to death before choosing to sleep. But if you wrap him up in a blanket like a tubie, he knocks right out.”

“Crosshair, please. Please stop.”

He did, unable to continue after hearing the desperation in Hunter’s words. 

“You’re not getting decommissioned,” Hunter affirmed.

“Hunter-”

“No. I was too late to save Bugg and Fixer, but I’ll die before I let the long-necks take away another one of my brothers.”

The regret and guilt that permeated his voice stung. He knew Hunter blamed himself for not helping the others enough, but hearing him now, he realized that his older brother blamed himself entirely for the loss of their brothers. 

“I-” Hunter whispered, not daring to look at his brother. “I can’t lose you too.”

“You won’t,” Crosshair promised, reaching out to touch Hunter’s wrist. He looked up to see his brother’s signature smirk. “Can’t get rid of me that easily, ya know.” (I won’t leave you.)

Hunter chuckled as he wiped a stray tear onto his sleeve. A sense of normalcy crashed over him like a wave. “Yeah, well, first time you go off on your own during a training sim, I’m throwing you in the water.” (I won’t let you.)

Crosshair scoffed. “Osik’uram.” (I love you, brother.)

“Di’kut.” (I know, and I love you, too.)

Thanks for reading! - River

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I’m bad enough already.

SEASON 3 SPOILERS BELOW

I just know if this turns out to be Tech, the Imperial Tech fics are gonna be insane, I am already feral

Bit different from my version of Tech, but hot as hell. 🥵

Resourceful

Tech x M!Reader

NSFW

Warnings: sexual tension, explicit sexual content, cock rings, light dom/sub like very lightly implied, anal fingering, anal sex, inappropriate use of a mechanic creeper, multiple orgasms, anal creampie

Inspired by and Written for @clownbloody based on this very spicy masterpiece and outcry for more male reader fics told you I would ;)

“I am not sure that your idea is a good one,” Tech noted, still not looking up at you. 

You’d been trying to distract him from the repairs he’d been working on for the last hour, having to repair a part to go back into the malfunctioning console. 

“Why not?” you asked, pushing yourself up to sit on his workbench. “The rest of the squad is going to be out for at least an hour, right?”

“Yes, they will be. However-”

You took his chin in your hand. “And it’s been a while since we had some time alone.”

“It has been two weeks-”

“Then what’s stopping you?” you moved your face closer to his, stopping mere millimeters from his.

He sighed, his breath tickling your lips. “I… Well, I do not want to neglect you. I want you to have my full attention any time we are… intimate.”

You chuckled a little, releasing your hold on his chin. “That’s sweet, but the repair needs to be done before we can get back into hyperspace.”

“That is accurate,” he agreed, his attention turning back to his work. 

“Don’t you think this could be a good way to multitask? You’re always talking about how you want to be more productive.”

His hands froze. You smirked at the small victory. 

“And you can have two things you love at the same time.”

He glanced up for only a moment, eyeing you suspiciously. “Those being…”

“Having the repairs finished and having your ass railed by your very sexy and very needy boyfriend.”

His breath caught in a tiny gasp as his grip on his spanner nearly faltered. 

“I mean really, you could think of it as an experiment.”

He set the tools down, finally returning his attention to you.

“What is it that you would be testing?”

“Oh, that would be you, darling,” you laughed, sliding off the table to stand behind him. You placed your hands on his shoulders before slowly pushing them down his chest, the shudder he fought encouraging you. Your hands slipped past his stomach to his thighs and his breath hitched. “I think it could be quite interesting to see just how long I need to fuck you to make that brilliant mind of yours go completely cock dumb.”

His head fell back against your chest as he sighed. Your fingers ghosted over his groin, pulling a whimper so soft that you felt like you might melt then and there. 

“So what do you think, my love?” you cooed in his ear. “Think I can shut down all that clever thinking?”

He took a moment to respond, obviously enjoying the way your hands roved over his body. “Y-yes, I believe such a… compelling theory should prove interesting to test.”

You padded off to your footlocker to grab a few tools you would need, allowing him the space and minimal distraction to finish repairing the part before he returned to the console.

He set the part on the ground and started to lower himself onto his rolling cart. 

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” you teased, chuckling at the confused look you received. “I can’t very well fuck you with your blacks on, can I?”

His cheeks flushed the prettiest pink as he pushed the bottom half of his underarmor down. 

You hummed, taking in the delicious sight of his bare legs. As he stood back up, you noticed the small discolored spots around his hip bones and the insides of his thighs. You dick twitched in your pants as you realized that those were left from your last adventure. 

He watched the way you licked your lips, swallowing hard as his length continued to harden with just the thought of what you were planning. 

“Go ahead and lay down, love,” you smirked, pushing your own pants down, as he laid on the cart, pulling himself under the console to begin installing the repaired part. 

You took out the items you’d retrieved before, two cock rings and a bottle of lube. You first put one cock ring on yourself, suppressing a moan as you situated it around you. 

You knelt down in front of Tech, grabbing his legs by the ankles. You heard his breath hitch as you lifted them up and apart so his ass would be on full display for you, humming satisfactorily. 

Releasing his ankles, you slapped his bare thigh, pulling a small whimper from him. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I can smack you around as much as you want later,” you breathed as your fingers trailed over to ghost across his balls. 

“Please, cyare,” he whispered. “Teasing was not in the itinerary.”

“You’re right,” you agreed, wrapping your hand around his now fully hard cock. You pulled the cock ring onto him, his whimpers and moans sounding like a symphony in your ears. “Ready, love?”

He eagerly nodded, despite not looking away from his work. 

You lubed up two of your fingers and swirled it around his ass, pushing in suddenly. 

He gasped and let out a low moan as you started to work your fingers in and out of him. Once you were sure he was ready for your length, you applied more lube to your own cock. 

Kneeling in front of him, you lined yourself up and shifted your hips forward to slide into his waiting ass. 

You both moaned as he took you all the way to the base and you heard the sharp sound of metal meeting metal as a tool hit the floor. 

You wrapped your hand around his cock, lazily pumping at it, watching his face flush even darker. 

“Cyare,” he moaned. 

You smiled. “Yes, dear?”

“Please move.”

You tried to shift your hips but found the movement awkward. He was too close to the ground. 

You looked up at his face, amused at how he was clearly trying to concentrate on the repair. 

A grin split across your face as an idea entered your lust-riddled brain. 

You released your hold on his dick to grab his hips. Shifting your hips backward to slide out of him, you got comfortable. 

“Is something wrong?” he asked, glancing down at you for just a moment. 

“You tell me,” you hummed.

You yanked him by his hips, rolling the cart towards you to impale him on your cock. 

“Fuck!” he shouted, nearly losing hold of the wire he’d been reconnecting. 

You pushed him away again, before quickly pulling him back, your eyebrow quirked up, watching to see any objections. 

Not seeing any signs of dissent you quickened the pace, pushing and pulling the cart, slamming his ass against your thighs. 

He kept his attempt to work at a relatively steady pace. That is, until you shifted your hips just a bit and suddenly the tip of your cock was pressing against that soft spot. 

He cried out your name, his hands dropping to grip the underside of the console. A couple more thrusts and he was moaning between the heavy panting dripping from his lips. You saw the drops of precum beading at the head of his member and picked up the pace, wrapping your hand around him. 

“Fuck! Fuck, cyare- oh, fuck I’m going to-”

He fell apart with a shout, his hands flying to the cart. You fucked him through it, his cum spilling out over his stomach.  

Despite the delay the cock ring was providing, you knew the way his orgasm made his already tight hole squeeze around you would make you cum fast but at this point you didn’t care. 

His moans and cries were still ringing in your ears as you slowed your pace, pulling the cart out more. 

You repositioned, never fully pulling out of his ass, and pushed his legs up towards his chest. Then, you started anew. 

You pistoned your hips into him, sheathing and unsheathing yourself in his heat. His moans were nearly constant now and you felt his muscles contract beneath you. 

Tech attempted to form words, but they all came out as moans, but you soon realized what he had been trying to say; he was cumming again, the tip of his cock leaking cum. 

The gasping breaths he took between moans sent you over the edge and you plowed into him, working yourself through your own climax.

When the room stopped spinning, you pulled your cock slowly out of him, admiring the way your cum leaked down his ass. 

You took a moment to catch your breath before smiling down at him. “How’d the repair go?”

“Actually,” he managed between pants. “I finished it… just before I came. The- the first time, that is. I must say… that was- it was quite resourceful.”

You shook your head, laughing in disbelief. “Come on, genius,” you smiled, holding your hand out to pull him up. “Let’s go get cleaned up.”

Thanks for reading! - River

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Hot. Damn.

Target Practice

Crosshair x M!Reader

NSFW

Warnings: Snark, snarky flirting, hair pulling, Crosshair is a BOTTOM, reader is a top, manhandling, scratching, anal sex, fucking at the blaster range, rough sex, distracted fucking, prostate massage, creampie, Crosshair is a brat

Inspired by and written for @clownbloody! Thank you as always for the amazing inspiration!

You weren’t going to lie, you had been getting a little bored. Yes, there is something undeniably sexy about a man who’s good at his job, but you could only watch him pick off automated droid targets one by one for so long. You inched closer to him, your arm brushing against his.

“You’re making it difficult to concentrate,” Crosshair growled, not looking up from his scope. 

“Hey, you invited me, Hotshot,” you smirked. “Insisted on it, really.”

You saw his brow furrow as he sent three shots off in quick succession. “Fuck you.”

“I know you want me to, darling, but you said you were coming out here to practice.”

Crosshair didn’t reply, only shifting his toothpick between his lips.

Maker, the things you’ve seen him do with those lips.

“Besides, I thought you were an expert sniper,” you teased, ghosting your fingers across the back of his neck. You saw him fight a shudder. “Who’d have guessed you’re so easily distracted?”

He sent off a couple more shots, the blaster bolts finding their targets easily. “Maybe you’re just an expert pain in the ass.”

You laughed. “Oh, Crossy,” you grinned, leaning down so your lips were barely brushing against his ear. “We both know ‘pain’ isn’t the right word for what I do to your ass.”

Crosshair hissed as he fired, the shot still hitting the droid, but off to the side instead of his typical center mass. “Told you not to call me that.”

“I know,” you smiled, flicking your tongue out against his helix piercing. “But you know how much I enjoy pissing you off.”

“You don’t have to stay if you’re bored,” he grumbled as you shifted your position to lay next to him.

You were now in a very similar position, both prone, but where he faced the targets on the range, you faced your target: him.

He reached over to press a button, resetting the range while he grumbled about making Tech and Echo give him a real challenge.

“I can think of a way to make this more interesting for both of us,” you mused.

That earned a moment’s glance before he began firing again. “What?”

Got you now, you thought. “Pause the simulation for me, Hotshot?” you requested.

You heard him scoff, but he reached for the control pad, pressing another button on it.

You stood up, moving behind him. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, attempting to watch you over his shoulder.

“Stay in your position,” you instructed. “Just let me readjust it for you.”

He did as he was told, only flinching a tiny bit in surprise as you worked your fingers between the top and bottom half of his black underarmor. You might have imagined it, but you thought you heard a soft sigh from the sniper as your hands made contact with his hips.

He started to turn his head back to look at you. “Eyes front, soldier,” you scolded, reaching up to grab at his short curls, forcing his head back forwards.

You heard a muttering of annoyance, but the way the tips of his ears tinged pink betrayed him.

You grabbed his hips, fingers pressing in almost hard enough to bruise. You drew in a deep breath as you pulled his hips up suddenly.

He gasped, catching himself on his knees as his grip tightened on his rifle.

“You okay, Crossy?” you murmured, your hands roving over his newly presented ass and thighs.

“Fine,” he growled through gritted teeth, but his face was redder than the trim of his armor.

“And you’re…okay with this?” you prodded, slipping your hands under his shirt to run up and down his back.

“Go fuck yourself,” he grunted. 

“But I thought that’s what I had you for,” you teased, curling your fingers to claw long stripes down his back. A moan caught in his throat.

He could never make it easy for you, you knew. Could he let you know how much he enjoyed your attention? No, that would be too close to admitting the feelings he definitely did not have for you. And you certainly didn’t already know about those feelings.

“What I think you need is a proper challenge,” you said as you slowly eased his pants down, revealing his bare ass to you. “Let’s see if you can still hit all your targets, hm?”

You knelt down, craning your neck to lick a long stripe up from his balls to his pulsing asshole. 

“Just fuck me already,” he groaned.

“If you say so love,” you said as you slapped his ass, enjoying the way the skin flushed.

You pulled out a small bottle of oil you’d slipped into your pocket before, distributing it along your already hard cock and around his hole.

You lined yourself up, pressing into him.

You groaned as his ass eagerly took you in, delighting in the sighs that escaped him.

“Fucking hells, Cross,” you groaned, gripping his hips. “Fuck you’re perfect.”

“Move,” he pleaded - though it sounded more like a demand - as he pressed the button to start the simulation again.

He began firing as you began to rut into him. You went slowly at first, making sure he felt each inch of your cock entering and exiting him as you tried not to jostle him too much.

The first ten of the fifty targets down, you kept your speed pulling out, but switched to plunging your cock into him, hard and fast. He grunted with the first one and you could see sweat starting to drip down his temples.

Another five down and you switched back to the slow but steady pace, enjoying his little whimper of disappointment a little too much. But now as you pushed into him you rolled your hips, making sure to really brush up against that sweet spot inside him each time.

“Thought you said it would be a challenge,” he grunted out through his panting breaths. 

“Careful what you wish for, Hotshot,” you grinned, slapping his ass hard.

He groaned and you sped up your pace, slamming your hips against his roughly. You heard a string of curses he mumbled under his breath, so you quickened your thrusts even more. 

“Fuck, your ass is so fucking tight for me,” you moaned, lifting on leg to balance on your foot instead of your knee. It shifted the angle of your thrusts and you hit that perfect spot in his ass.

“Fuck,” he hissed, his legs beginning to shake under you.

You bent forward, grabbing at his short silver hair, yanking his head back.

“Only three more targets, Crossy,” you told him before releasing your grip on his hair and placing it back on his hips. 

You used all your strength to pull him against you as you thrust into him. He moaned as he fired, hitting one of the targets.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you groaned, the wet sound of your balls slapping against his making your cock twitch inside him.

Another target down, one to go. “Fuck, fill me,” he all but whimpered as he lined up his final shot.

You reached around him as your hips began to stutter, grabbing his cock and roughly thrusting your hand around it.

He fell apart under you just after his final shot left his blaster. He shouted as he succumbed to the waves of pleasure washing over him, spilling his cum onto the floor beneath him as yours filled him so much that it started to spill out, dripping down his balls.

You’d both stopped moving, simply trying to catch your breath. Slowly, you began to pull out of him, your cock half-hardening again at the messy sight before you.

“I can’t believe you actually hit them all,” you scoffed.

“Must not have done a very good job distracting me,” Crosshair sneered, despite the way he still fought for breath. “Might have to give it another try.”

You groaned, sitting back on your heels. “You’re gonna have to give me like ten minutes.”

“Not so big and bad now, are you?”

“Shut your mouth and clean me up like a good boy.”

He moaned as he began to do as he was told.

This was going to be a beautifully long evening.

Thanks for reading! - River

Main Masterlist Taglist Form Read on Ao3

Tags: @writing-positivelyexisting @nekotaetae @lokigirlszendaya @get-wr3ckered @jediknightjana @idoubleswearimawriter @lucyysthings @unstable-kiwi @6oceansofmoons @l3xi3luv @winter-phoenix1995 @serenityselene @nomercyforthewarrior @ravenclawbitch426 @luna-the-lone-red-wolf

This is so unbelievably sweet. 😍

10/10. Highly recommended.

Evidence and Luck

Tech x Phee Genoa

Warnings: very fluffy, implications of and references to sexual relations and therefore I'm labeling this fic as Mature and 18+, but nothing is explicit

My first TechPhee!! I hope I've done them justice.

It was far later than Tech had expected to return to the Marauder. It was certainly later than he’d told the others to expect him. But at the moment, he found he didn’t care much about that. In fact, walking back to the ship in the lowlight just before sunrise, he could probably say he didn’t care much about anything other than her. 

Stars above, for the first time in his life there was only one thing on his mind and it was Phee, Phee, Phee. It didn’t matter that he’d spent nearly ten hours with her at her small cottage and only left mere moments ago. He was still replaying it all in his head. 

“You sure you have to go now, Brown Eyes?” she’d asked, her voice soft as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I wouldn’t mind you staying through to the morning.”

His hands gripped her hips, pulling her even closer to him, drinking in the soft moan that fell from her lips. “I cannot say I would mind either,” he’d conceded. “Unfortunately, I did inform my brothers that I would be back in…” he trailed off as he glanced at the chrono on the wall. “Four hours ago.”

She smiled, her fingers fiddling with the strap of his goggles at the back of his head. “If you’re already late…”

“What is the harm in a few more minutes?” he finished, already ducking down to kiss her neck again.

“Or hours,” she groaned as she lifted the goggles from his head once more. 

Oh, he was feeling particularly lucky at the moment. The events of the past sixteen hours aside, he was feeling this way because all his brothers had leaned away from the early morning risings the war had always brought. Well, almost all of his brothers.

“You were out late,” Echo smirked over his mug of caf as he walked up the ramp. “Or should I say early? Busy night?”

“Busy indeed,” Tech agreed quietly, feeling a little giddy at the memories. 

“Got a new… project?” 

Tech chuckled. “Perhaps.”

Echo grinned at his brother. “Get some rest,” he advised. “And maybe a shower. You look like you need it.”

“I believe that would be a good idea.”

He walked through the ship, being sure to keep his footsteps light to avoid the two light-sleepers’ wraths until he came up on the refresher. He eyed it for a moment before tilting his head down to gently sniff at himself. 

Phee’s perfume - a gorgeous blend of wood and citrus - was all over him. 

He sighed. He didn’t really want the smell of her to leave him, but he knew it would irritate Hunter’s senses so he figured a brief stop in the sonic shower wouldn’t hurt. 

He stepped out of the fresher a few moments later, adjusting his goggles back into their typical space just as Echo happened to be passing. 

“Better, but you… missed a few spots,” he noted with his signature snarky smile. 

Tech’s brows furrowed as he turned back to face the small mirror. His cheeks heated and darkened. Phee had left a number of small marks all over his face and neck, little prints of her lipstick dotting his face. 

He sighed, but as he began to clean the marks from his face, he found that he couldn’t wipe away the smile his lips had pulled into. Her voice still filled his ears. “Brown eyes. Mmm, yes. Right there, baby.”

He came to the final mark, one on the side of his neck, peeking out of the collar of his shirt. It might’ve appeared to be a simple lipstick stain, but Tech knew better. Hidden behind the subtle red of her favorite lipstick was a deep purple; a small spot where the pressure her teeth and lips had applied ruptured the blood vessels just below the surface.

Maybe it was the deviant nature that seemed encoded in himself and his brothers or maybe it was Phee’s influence, but either way, that small bit of evidence remained. He figured he’d face the teasing of his brothers if it meant they all realized just how lucky he was. 

Thanks for reading! - River

Tales of the Clones Master List DangRaccoon Master List Taglist Form Read on AO3

Tags: @writing-positivelyexisting @nekotaetae @lokigirlszendaya @get-wr3ckered @jediknightjana @idoubleswearimawriter @lucyysthings @unstable-kiwi @6oceansofmoons @l3xi3luv @winter-phoenix1995 @serenityselene @nomercyforthewarrior @ravenclawbitch426 @Padawancat97 @error6gendernotfound @techs-goggles9902