Is It Hot In Here , Or Is It Me? 👀

Did i just torture myself? Yes.

Was it worth it? Yes.

Rushed Promises

Pairing: Captain Wilco x F TK!Trooper!Reader

A/N: S2 BAD BATCH SPOILERS!!! (I guess?) Anyone else fall in love with Captain Five Minutes of Screentime??? Lol. I did. Instantly. Anyone else still in denial and almost certain he could survive that fall if there's a body of water at the bottom of that frame????? No? Just me???

Summary: You spend the morning with Wilco before he has to head out.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; Established Relationship, SMUT, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, fingering, fluff, angst at the end

TAGLIST FORM if you'd like to be tagged in future fics!

“Don’t get out of bed.” You beg, quietly.

Wilco starts to sit up and pull his clothes up off the floor so he can get ready. You have a better idea and start to pull him back to you in the bed.

“I have to, mesh’la.” Wilco kisses you on the forehead, smiling at how beautiful you look in the dim light of the lamp. “I have a lot to do today, unfortunately.”

You nod sadly, understanding.

“So do you.” He playfully smoothes out the crease between your eyebrows to make you stop frowning.

He’s right. You’re supposed to be running drills with the newbie TK troopers while Wilco and his men are supposed to be heading to Serenno today to gather up Count Dooku’s war chests and ship them out to wherever they were supposed to be going. Honestly, at this point, you stop asking questions. You don’t get paid to ask questions. 

“Do you have time to-” You start but you don’t even get to finish your question before Wilco travels down your body, smirking up at you once he settles between your legs.

He knows you so well at this point.

“Always have time for this.” He hums, kissing your inner thighs. “So pretty in the morning. How could I resist?” 

“Don’t want you to.” You grin.

You spread your legs even more for him as he moves the cover away from your naked body. Wilco slides his hands up your body, gently massaging your thighs that are sore from your drills you ran the day before.

“Feel good?” He asks, sliding his hands up even closer to your warmth.

You’re already wet from the implication of what his hands have planned for you. 

“Mmhm.” You sigh, letting your eyes flutter closed.

“Nope. Eyes on me.” He quietly commands you.

“Yes, captain.” You smirk, looking down at him, knowing that calling him that gets to him every single time, no matter what he’s doing.

Wilco groans and immediately throws his plans to the wind as his mouth desperately latches onto your clit, causing your back to arch up off his bunk. You internally thank the Maker that Wilco has his own quarters.

“Fuck, Wil…” You moan.

He hums against your warmth, still massaging your thighs. Your hand flies down to his hair, trying to hold onto him as his tongue sends fire grazing throughout your entire body. A fire you know so well that you’d live engulfed in flames as long as they were Wilco’s flames.

“So wet for me, aren’t you?” He praises you, flicking his tongue across your clit as he inserts a finger into your soaked hole.

You nod, eagerly. “All for you, baby.”

“You taste so fucking good.” He continues licking into you as he thrusts his finger into you while his other hand continues kneading at your thigh.

“So good with your hands.” You praise him, tightening your grip on his hair. “Fuck… and your mouth.” 

He smirks against your pussy and you know he’s trying to make you feel as good as possible since he’s going to be gone for a couple days on Serenno. 

The wet sounds of your cunt fill his small room and your hips buck against his hand, knowing your edge is nearing, but trying to hold back for him to give you the okay. 

“You wanna cum, pretty girl?” He teases, starting to rub that spongy part of you that only Wilco could reach.  “Wish you could feel how perfectly you're clenching around my finger.”

“P-please… Wil…” You beg and plead, whispering his name like a prayer.

“Alright, cyar’ika. You can cum.” He gives you permission and then continues sucking on your clit, making you feel like you may combust completely.

With his permission, you feel your orgasm hit you like a coil snapping and you cum for him, moaning his name so loudly that he has to let go of your thigh to cover your mouth.

“So fucking beautiful.” He eases his finger out of you and sits up on his knees, so he can start pumping his length over your naked body.

Mesmerized by his perfect hands, you watch him and you can’t help the warmth that travels throughout your body as you stare at your partner with absolute love and adoration. 

“You are.” You murmur as you sit up so you can be closer to him. 

Wil stares down into your eyes as he continues working his cock, expertly. Unable to keep your hands to yourself, you slide them over his ass and up his back, raking your nails down his back, knowing how it spurs him on.

“Fuck, your hands feel so-” He starts to groan but is cut off by a knock on his door.

“Captain Wilco, we’re loading up now.” A voice of another clone trooper says on the other side, having no idea what his captain was really up to. 

“Give me five.” He practically barks.

“Yes, sir.” You hear the retreating footsteps.

Quirking an eyebrow, you look up at him amused. “Only five?” 

He groans roughly as he pushes you onto your back, leaning over you to crush his lips to yours, and in one fluid movement, pushes into you, making both of you moan against each other’s mouths, hotly.

“I only need two.” He chuckles and starts thrusting into you at the most unforgiving pace he’s ever fucked you.

“Spend the other three holding me.” You smirk.

“Always.” He promises you.

Slamming his hips against your ass, gripping your thighs, he does as he promises and cums, moaning against your neck, holding your thighs tight enough you know you’re going to bruise. 

“Pussy from the Maker, I swear.” He laughs as he slows his thrust, slowly pulling out of you so he can hold you.

You roll your eyes with a laugh and let him pull you into his arms and pepper your shoulders with kisses. 

“I’ll miss you, you know.” You murmur, kissing his strong forearms.

“I’ll be back, I promise.”

The thing about promises, though? Sometimes, they get broken.

TAGS: @twistedstitcher27 @rebel-finn @grievouus @madameminor @dumfanting @rain-on-kamino @misogirl828 @corona-one @tecker @ladykatakuri @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @zoeykallus @maulslittlemeowmeow @littlemousedroid @arctrooper69 @rexxdjarin @agenteliix @padawancat97 @hated-by-me @sleepingsun501 @crosshairmylove587 @idlenesses @redheadgirl @dnxgma @themcuwriter @ashotofspotchka @sunshinesdaydream @crosshairsimp73 @ariadnes-red-thread @rosmariner

Tech: *gets injured*

Y/N suddenly becoming a Medic:

HAPPY NEW YEAR! Let's make it a good one 😁

Took Him Long Enough

Tech x reader

Tech is alone for the evening so he decides to run out and explore the underground marketplace on Ord Mantel. Due to an unfortunate accident, he’s been exposed to some ~mood altering substances~ and finds himself getting a little too hot under his armor. He’ll be fine if he can just make it home, where he’ll be alone, right? Yes, this is just another shameless flavor of sex pollen fic for the sluts. (It’s me, I’m the sluts)

NSFW, 18+ only

Warnings: rough sex, face fucking, dubcon if you’re REALLLLY squinting

Notes: ok so this is my first attempt at writing this kinda thing. My first fanfic actually so I’m super happy to receive any constructive criticism or notes on what you liked/disliked as far as style goes. A little bit of background- I always thought it seemed kinda uncomfortable for them to live on the marauder so I imagine that there’s an apartment above Cid’s that she rents out to them.

—————-

He actually made it back- his condition is worsening with each passing second. His goggles begin to fog up as he stumbles into the stairwell at Cid’s, giving her an awkward wave and a strained smile, trying not to look suspicious. The most he gets is an eye roll, a promising sign.

He all but trips over himself as he finally passes the threshold into their apartment. He was grateful the rest of you had left to run some errands for Cid- allowing him some privacy.

If only he had gone with you, he would be in a lot better shape than he is currently.

Truthfully he was working on a project before this. He had ventured out into the marketplace hopeful to find an essential part to repair Omega’s holopad. He had excitedly given it to her as a gift once he had saved up enough. Inevitably the thing met its doom at the hands of Wrecker. He hoped to surprise her when everyone got back.

It was a simple fix, but he couldn’t help himself from wandering into adjacent shops when something uncommon piqued his interest. He actually can’t quite remember what he was doing when he was exposed, all he had were blurred memories of broken glass jars and panicked apologies. His head was already spinning as the shop owner urged him to leave and seek medical attention for the overdose, clearly not wanting authorities catching wind of his side business.

Tech didn’t need a doctor, he needed to get home.

He briskly weaves through the crowded streets. He does his best to appear unbothered even as he was painfully aware of the growing discomfort behind his codpiece.He brings his fist up to his teeth to stifle any whines threatening to escape, the other still clinging tightly to that damned part for the holopad.

He feels a small pang of shame as he finds his thoughts drifting to you: your soft lips, the curve of your hips and the warmth between your thighs.

He fantasized about how the evening would have gone had you stayed behind. All the lonely nights he spent pining for you in his bunk or from his seat in the cockpit could not match the searing desire for you he felt now.

A crushing feeling of shame shook him out of his fantasy. You were his friend, it was indecent for him to think of you this way. Not only that, he felt it was embarrassingly hopeful. Despite the many less-than-subtle attempts by his brothers to get you two alone, he simply could not find the nerve to make a move.

Just the thought made him choke as he ducks into the next alleyway, shaking his head. He has enough to worry about right now, you were out and he could easily take care of himself. He just has to make it home…

He drops to his knees in the entryway. His limbs tremble beneath him as he struggles to catch his breath. He groans through his teeth as he notices just how hot the skin beneath his armor was. Wasting no time, he begins to strip off his clothes, pulling his right glove off with his teeth as his left hand fumbles to remove his belt. He utters a groan of relief once he is down to nothing but his pants and his boots. Finally alone.

Until he hears someone calling him from across the apartment. He freezes with hand at his waistband when he hears your voice.

He is mortified, sure you had left with the others. It was simply impossible to face you like this. What would you think if you wandered out into the hall to discover him on the ground, half-naked and…excited. What could he possibly say to explain himself?

“Tech, you better say something if it’s you or i'm coming out here swinging!”

He clasps his hand over his mouth to stifle a groan. Your footsteps grow louder as he frantically weighs the pros and cons of making a quick escape, only to find the decision has been taken out of his hands.

You’re standing over him and he hesitantly glances up at you. His eyes rake hungrily over your body. The exposed skin of your thighs, the way your shorts hug your hips, your arms folded beneath your breasts and your sweet smile. You looked so happy to see him.

“Fuck”

It’s all he can manage when he finally meets your gaze. Your face softens with concern. Something was definitely off.

“A little less eloquent than usual, Tech” You teased, crouching in front of him. “What happened to your clothes?”

It was so hard to keep his composure. He really liked the way his name sounded when you said it. “I thought you would be out with the others…why are you here?

You cock an eyebrow as you look him over

“Because I live here; and I was waiting for you.”

You gesture vaguely to the living space behind you a considerable amount of tools and equipment were beginning to pile up.

“We have a lot of unfinished projects just waiting for me to trip over.”

Truthfully you stayed behind to get some time alone with Tech. You often suggested improvements to equipment or to the marauder so you could get him to yourself. You’re pretty sure he likes having you around but you’re not quite sure how much deeper that goes. Even if he wasn’t interested in you romantically it was still nice spending time as a friend.

He sits back on his heels to adjust his goggles and catch his breath.

“This is humiliating to admit but- from my understanding I’ve been inadvertently exposed to some kind of illegal substance.” shuts his eyes tightly in concentration before continuing. “I believe it’s commonly used as a party drug…in much smaller doses.”

He manages to choke out enough details for you to piece together what might have happened, blushing once you get a thorough visual of the side effects.

He assumed you would be disgusted. He could see no other outcome than this forever damaging your relationship after seeing him this way. He fully expected you to walk out the door, disgusted, as he internally mourned the future he had pictured with you.

Instead you’re just concerned. You move closer to him, pushing aside any awkwardness to check his vitals.You need to make sure he’s safe. You gently place the back of your hand against his glistening forehead, doing your best to ignore the obvious bulge in his pants.

“Tech, I’m so sorry. ”

His breath catches in his throat as you set your fingertips against his pulse. You could feel the muscles in his neck tensing up at your touch.

“Physically you’re going to be fine”

You offer a lighthearted smile, hoping to alleviate some of the embarrassment. You didn’t quite feel bold enough to offer him ‘help’, but you had to admit that the way he was looking at you was more than enough to tempt you.

“If it makes you feel better, you aren’t the first person I’ve seen like this. It’s actually pretty easy to overdo it with this stuff- not that you really had a choice”

Tech was speechless for the first time that he can remember. What could he possibly say to you in this moment? He absolutely could not share with you any of the thoughts running through his mind.

He wills himself to move, to speak, to do anything but sit there helplessly. He finds himself raising his left hand to meet yours, still pressed against his neck. The other finds its place below your chin, his thumb tracing the outline of your lips.

Your eyes widen in surprise at the bold gesture. His thumb stills and the hazy smile leaves his eyes when he realizes what he’s doing.

“Sorry” He flashes an apologetic look but makes no attempt to separate from you.

“This is not like me, I promise I’m not some kind of deviant-”

“I know you aren’t” You cut him off as you move to take his hands in your own. “Here, get up. Maybe we should get you into your bed…you could sleep it off?” You stand and pull him to his feet, hoping to restore some dignity to the sweaty, shirtless, mess of a man before you.

You give him a moment to steady himself; his muscles faintly soften as you absentmindedly stroke his palm. Maybe this was what he needed? Any physical touch seemed to be providing a degree of relief.

“Does this help?” your voice is gentle as you try to ignore the fluttery feeling in your stomach. You took note of how much bigger his hands were compared to yours. They were calloused and scarred from his work yet still had a gentleness to them as he held onto you.

“In a way” he answered thoughtfully.

“Though if I can be candid with you it only seems to fan the flames, so to speak.”

Did he mean just the physical touch? Or does he mean you? It’s possible that he's desperately seeking relief and you are the first warm body he’s run into. You push those thoughts aside, re-centering your focus on Tech.

“I could get you a glass of water? Maybe a shower would help”

He paused a moment. His brows knit together as he considered his options.

“Perhaps a shower would help, If you joined me?”

You expect him to laugh, to assure you he was joking, but he does not rescind the offer. His previous hang ups about pursuing you are silenced as his desire reaches a breaking point.

He steps in closer to you and you tilt your head back to look up at him. Has he always been this tall?

His amber gaze scans your features from behind his lenses.

“Unless that’s not your preference?”

He raises his eyebrows, anxiously awaiting your response. He knew it was a longshot but in this moment he felt that there is no other woman he would rather be with.

“Me? Tech, are you sure you know what you’re asking? Maybe I’m misunderstanding-”

“Are the others wrong in their assumptions that you have-” he was sifting through his thoughts for the appropriate words “-romantic feelings for me?”

He tentatively squeezed your hands, hoping he hasn’t crossed a line.

“If so, I'll ask you to forgive me. After my exposure you have completely consumed my thoughts. Although truthfully, this is not much different from any other moment since we’ve met”

Excitement buzzed through your body at his admission. It was all you could do not to pull him close to you and kiss him all over.

“No. They aren't wrong” you admitted, shoulders tensed as you anticipated his next move.

Tech gently lifts your chin to meet his gaze.

“I can ensure the experience to be mutually pleasurable”

His voice is low and sweet as he cups your face.

You’re suddenly aware that he has been slowly walking you toward the lounge area behind you. Matching every step you take until you find yourself stumbling into the couch.

“I apologize for being so direct but I would love nothing more than to have you right here in this moment. If you’ll indulge me?”

He kneels in front of you, slowly sliding his hands up your thighs. His touch is excruciatingly soft. “I’ll do anything, Love. I would do anything you ask”

“I’m begging you, mesh’la” he lays his head in your lap, letting out a contented sigh.

“I need you”

He trails soft kisses from your knee to the hem of your shorts. His fingertips trace the soft skin of your inner thighs.

“You’re absolutely sure? This is what you want?” You confirmed one final time before giving in to your own desires.

“Yes” He breathes “This is what I want. Every single day this is what I want.”

You can’t help but take amusement in his melodramatic performance. It’s certainly over the top, and completely unnecessary as he’s already won you over long before this.

You bend forward, brushing your fingers into his hair as you invite him into a gentle kiss. He eagerly accepts, He brushes his tongue softly across your lips before gently moving past them.

You took a moment to breathe him in. An earthy musk mingles with his feverish sweat. Clearly he had been up early today working on the ship. He moans softly into your mouth, kisses becoming more fervent. His tender touch sends tingles through your body as he explores the bare skin beneath your shirt.

His attention drops to his hands as he hooks his fingers into your waistband. He retreats to look at you for final confirmation before quickly sliding your shorts down your legs.

He watches you squirm as he teases his fingers over your underwear. He slips his fingers beneath the lacy fabric, stamping light kisses on your inner thighs.

“Does that feel good?” He coos, having already found a comfortable rhythm between your lips.

You nod your head in response, digging your fingers into the grainy fabric of the couch.

Satisfied with your answer, he gently slides his hand down to your entrance.

“You are remarkably wet already” He pants, a cheeky smile flashed briefly across his lips.

Tentatively, he slides his middle and ring fingers inside of you, cursing as you clench around his digits. His thumb resumes his pace between your folds as his fingers slide in and out of your core. His cock strains against his pants at the obscene sounds of his fingers between your thighs.

Having collected a considerable amount of your juices on his hand, he reaches into his pants, in desperate need of his own stimulation. He groans as he begins brazenly thrusting into his slick palm.

Even as his need for release rings louder in his ears he holds out long enough to be sure you’re ready for him. He hooks his arm around your thigh and drags you to him, bringing your clothed heat to his mouth. Impatiently he pulls your panties to the side and leans in to taste you.

Under ordinary circumstances he would have gladly spent hours between your thighs, in fact he frequently caught himself daydreaming of just that. His mind would wander to you during any lengthy repairs to the marauder, usually becoming enough of a distraction to warrant a quick break to clear his head.

Tech finally pulls back from you with a groan as the pain from his erection becomes unbearable. He stands and plants his boot next to you on the couch. He extends his arm to steady himself against the wall behind you- still desperately pumping his length.

“Please” He mouths, only to guide your hand toward his discomfort.

“Of course, Tech.” Your mouth waters as you take him into your hands. You begin to slowly work his shaft. A twinge of satisfaction pools in your center as you listen to the string of obscenities drawn out by your touch.

You lean in to slowly lick the length of his shaft before taking him into your mouth. He bucks his hips in response, no longer making an effort to conceal his cries.

“Yes, just like that” his pupils are blown wide as he watches you bob your head up and down, whispering unintelligible praises between breaths. He presses his hips forward, urging you to take him deeper into your throat.

“Fuck, please y/n, I need to feel you”

He begs as he gently slips his hand behind your head to grab a fistful of hair. He holds your head in place as he rhythmically thrusts into the back of your throat. You gag as he quickens his pace, desperately seeking relief by pushing deeper into your throat.

You gasp when he pulls himself out of you, taking a moment to catch your breath.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry- I wasn’t thinking! I just-” He panicks. This is what he was afraid of, he had hurt you. He was sure he would never forgive himself as he watched you wipe at your smeared mascara.

“No, no. I’m fine.” you reassure him as you softly slide your hands up his thighs, resting them at his hips. You looked up at him meekly as you made your request

“I want you to use my mouth, Tech”

Your words elicited a visible shudder from the man, who only hesitated a few moments before repositioning himself at your open mouth. “anything you want, darling”

With your permission, he resumed his roughened pace, being mindful to allow you occasional breaks to catch your breath.

“You look…so...pretty…with my cock in your mouth” he groans between thrusts, his hand planted firmly behind your head as he vehemently chases his release. After a final few, deep thrusts he slowly pulls himself out of your mouth and kneels in front of you.

He searches your features as he brushes your hair out of your face, lightly cradling your head in his hands.

“Still doing alright?” his voice is heavy and his breaths are unsteady, all of his focus is now on you.

Before you answer, you raise your hands to his face, repositioning his goggles that had slid down the bridge of his nose.

“Yes” you begin pleading “Please, Tech. I need you to fuck me”

More than happy to fulfill your request, Tech lowers himself between your thighs and goes to remove your underwear.

“Your shirt” He mutters, fully focused on sliding your panties off to reveal your bottom half. You comply, swiftly removing your top and tossing it behind you.

With your heat sufficiently exposed, he draws his eyes to your chest. You feel the warmth of his breath against your lips as he leans in to meet them. A calloused hand greedily cups your breast as he sighs softly into your mouth. He lightly brushes his fingertips over your nipples, making you shiver.

He eases you onto his length, scrutinizing your features as you stretch to accommodate his girth. The scorching heat of your core sends a tremor through his body.

He allows his head to fall back, a hiss escapes through gritted teeth as he slowly bottoms out. You barely have a moment to adjust to him before he really begins rutting into you. Tension visibly dissolves from his body as he finally finds the friction he was aching for.

His pace is relentless, spurred on by your lecherous cries. He holds you firmly in place by your hips, fingers sinking deep into your soft flesh. It’s not long before a fervid sensation creeps behind your skull, causing your walls to clench around him.

Picking up on your body’s signals, he bends forward and cages your head between his arms, purring softly into your ear.

“Go ahead, pretty thing. Cum for me”

His words send shockwaves through your body as you reach the peak of your orgasm. He stays close, holding your shaking thighs and riding out the aftershock with you.

Satisfied with his work, Tech carefully repositions you. He pulls your back to his chest, supporting you in his arms. Carefully he lowers you down onto his pulsing length. His hand moves to lightly grip your throat, steadying you as he bounces you in his lap. His eyes close as he falls into a feverish pace, gasping and whimpering into your hair.

“I’m so close, love. Where can I…”

“Inside.” you gasp as you steady yourself on his forearm. “You can cum inside me”

His grip tightens around you, growing more flustered as he approaches his climax.

He plants an unexpected kiss on your temple as his thighs begin to tremble. You feel him pulsing inside you, on the brink of his long anticipated release.

A guttural moan escapes his lips as he paints your insides, embedding himself into the warmth between your thighs. The muscles in his arms twitch around you as his pleasure overtakes him. You listen to his labored breathing as he nestles his face into your neck.

He keeps you close as he comes down from his high, finally finding reprieve from his condition. Neither of you spoke as you listened to the sounds of each other's breath, slowly drifting back to reality.

His fingertips glide over the vulnerable flesh of your neck before he dips down to plant soft kisses below your jawline.

“Thank you” he hums, gently tracing shapes along the length of your arms. You stay like this for a while, finding comfort in each other's closeness.

He sits back into the seat and adjusts your position in his lap. Reaching beside him, he grabs one of the throw blankets and wraps you both in its warmth.

“Are you comfortable?” He asks, checking to be sure you’re fully covered.

“Very”

You lay your head against his chest and hear his heartbeat steady.You feel yourself drifting off, only awoken when he finally speaks again.

“I hope you don’t think less of me after this”

His voice is unsteady as he pulls you closer to him.

“I don’t regret our encounter but I am deeply ashamed of my behavior”

Embarrassment bubbles inside you at his words. You had let yourself believe this was more than a quick resolution to his discomfort. You felt foolish for believing it all, of course it’s not his fault but you should have known he would have said anything to get relief.

The lump forming in your throat stopped you from answering, the silence only broken by the steady pounding in his chest.

“I had hoped our first time might have been much more intimate.” He continues, oblivious to your inner narrative.

“I was planning the perfect evening for us- granted that I ever gained the courage to ask you”

You leaned to the side so you could look up at him. He was already looking down at you through half lidded eyes.

“Although, I think we might have just circumvented that milestone” he adjusts his goggles and offers a bashful smile.

“I think it was long overdue” You give a quick squeeze to his hand. “It was nice, and I was happy to help”

He nodded then set his chin on the top of your head, squeezing you just a bit tighter

“Agreed.”

————————————————

When the others got back you all gathered at the bar to get caught up on their usual shenanigans, Cid never sent them on a mission that would go smoothly. Tech immediately presented Omega with her newly fixed holopad. After a quick talk about the importance of keeping her things out of Wreckers destructive reach, Omega quickly ran up to her room stating she had a lot of reading to catch up on.

You returned to the bar to find that Tech had already gotten you a drink, a subtle gesture that did not go unnoticed. You thanked him and reached your hand out to give his a soft squeeze.

“Oh my god, I knew it!” You are all startled by Cid’s sudden outburst.

“Knew what?” Hunter questioned, clearly already annoyed with her after the unexpected terrors he faced on the last mission.

She nodded in your direction, a smug grin creeping across her face.

“They finally did it- Look at ‘em! Pay up, Killjoy” she turns to Echo with an outstretched hand

He looks between you and Tech, then rolls his eyes as he digs through his pockets for any loose credits. “You two couldn’t have waited another 14 rotations?” he grumbles as he places the contents of his pocket on the bar in front of him.

“I’m not sure what you’re referring to” Tech tries to play coy but he is thwarted by the flush on both of your faces.

“He’s talking about you two finally hooking up. Took ya long enough!” He laughs as he chugs the rest of his drink. “HA! I didn’t think you had it in ya Tech!”

He gives Tech a rough shove on the shoulder as you bury your face in your hands.

“You are as subtle and eloquent as ever, Wrecker” He says through gritted teeth.

Hunter brings his hands up to rub his temples, finally putting a stop to the nonsense “Okay, enough, all of you! You’re giving me a migraine”

It was way funnier before i draw it.

@kaydear what have you done to me??? their always in my head, I aint free no more.

Wild Horses

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Female Doctor!Reader, Soap x Reader Part 2

Part 1

A/N: Y’all have asked and y’all have received. Enjoy! Let me know what you guys think, I always love to hear your thoughts! Reblogs are much appreciated! 😊💜

Summary: Imagine being the new physician assigned to the team and a certain masked individual takes a new keen concealed interest in you. The two of you are too awkward to function.

Warnings: language, fluff, angst. This one might be a little sad and Ghost is a bit of an ass-jerk so be prepared.

As mentioned before, Ghost completely stays clear of your vicinity after stepping out of your office. It’s not that he hates you. He’s just slightly irritated. With himself? Or is it you and that pretty face of yours and your comforting voice and your goddamn politeness and your accent. To be honest, the whole team adores your accent. He can’t tell. Remind you, this is a man who has probably never been shown any affection or tenderness so don't expect him to fall for you on the spot. This man needs therapy, like a lot of therapy. All he knows is that he doesn’t want to go through whatever it is he is feeling, finding the whole thing to be an inconvenience really. And because he doesn't know how to understand or face whatever these emotions are, he just buries it. It's easier for him that way.

Poor dude couldn’t even sleep last night, staring at the ceiling of his room and haunted by the idea that he accidentally offended you. This man may have a cold exterior but your scalpels are colder and sharper than the devil's jawline. He almost couldn’t blame you if you decided to inject some foreign substance into his bloodstream and make the whole thing look like it was a stroke. Wait, could you do that? Bloody fucking hell. This man spends too much time with his thoughts I swear.

The man spends the whole night trying to assess his feelings, or rather his attraction towards you, convinces himself you're just another pretty face. The man may be touch-starved but he knows there are other methods to handle his needs, even though it's been a long time since he's slept with a woman, like a really long time. But even then, that situation was different. There was never any intimacy involved, like a quick business transaction that finished just as quickly as it started. It only left him feeling as empty as he was before. Not to mention, he doesn't do well with human interaction and that one and only moment he had with a woman daunted him more than it needed to, and so he has remained abstinent ever since. And if he were being honest with himself, you're just a distraction. And how do you handle distractions? You steer clear of them.

So what does this man do? He does what he intended to do. He avoids you at all costs. Oh, is that you walking towards their small, makeshift kitchen to fix yourself a bagel in the morning? Guess what, he’s doing a full 180 and lurking behind a wall like Michael Myers and his stupid hedge, waiting until you’re finished so he can make himself his morning tea.

Not only that but he makes sure to take extra good care of himself, Vitamin C supplements or multivitamins, whatever it takes to keep himself in best health. He even looks up on Google for extra tips to prevent himself from having to send himself in. He had heard of the saying “an apple a day keeps the doctor away” and goes out of his way to buy an apple during his morning runs. But the poor chap has it all mixed up because when you walk into your office the next morning, you're surprised to see an apple just sitting there on your desk.

Ghost doesn't know that it's supposed to be the other way around and that the apple is actually supposed to be for himself. He doesn't bother to search up the meaning, nor does anyone bother to tell him because they don't even know that he's doing it in the first place. So every morning he goes on his run, he goes out and buys an apple, and so every morning you find one placed on your desk.

The first time you saw the fruit sitting there on the table where you worked, surrounded by your scattered paperwork, you were confused no doubt. You picked it up curiously in your hand, inspecting the bright red fruit before giving a shrug and biting into it, after you wash it of course. You think it's just a small little token of thanks from one of the men. Possibly Soap considering how flirty he was yesterday. Alejandro doesn't seem like the type to give fruits. He's more of a red rose and a bottle of wine kind of man.

But as days go by, each day you find an apple sitting on your desk. And as thoughtful as this gesture is, at this point, considering the amount of apples you've eaten, you're either going to have serious digestive issues or die of cyanide poisoning, as if you don't already have IBS. So what do you do? You start to collect the apples each morning, deciding to throw in your own twist to this gesture until one evening, the men come back from one of their missions to find a freshly baked apple pie and a stack of paper plates and some utensils sitting out on a table for them, including a small little card with the handwritten words "bone apple tea". What in the hell.

"What in the fucks is bone apple tea." Gaz scrunches his nose at the writing on the little card.

They're all standing around at the table staring at the pie with confusion written across their faces. All except Ghost of course, the way his eyes slightly widen once he sees it. His gut is telling him you're behind it. Hm I wonder what gave it away.

"What’s this?" Alejandro asks, tilting his head at the thing.

"Looks like apple pie." Gaz answers.

"Yes I know that." Alejandro remarks. “But what is it doing here?"

"Doubt it's from any one of you muppets." Price speaks up. He knows damn well none of these men know how to bake. There’s only one person here whose hands are skilled or nimble enough to make the braided trim on that crust. Not to mention the detailing in the center, like the way you carefully placed little leaf designs made from the crust on top of the braided design. Yup this was definitely you, unless someone else here had a secret talent they had been hiding.

Literally why are these men acting like the pie has poison it. As if Graves sent it or something. Just shut up and eat the pie before it gets cold you himbos.

"So who made it?" Soap asks, looking towards the others for answers.

"This," Alejandro chuckles after finally realizing, "this was made by the hands of a woman."

"Who, y/n?" Gaz quirks a brow, you're the only woman here.

How in the hell did you get the means to bake a complete fucking apple pie in a place like this? They always heard doctors have skilled and steady hands but what the actual fuck.

"Well don't mind me." Soap literally cuts a big ass slice for himself before going off to devour the thing.

The boys watch Soap basically almost moan once he takes a bite of your pie as he goes off yelling out something along the lines of "well tidy scran", before helping themselves to a slice.

Ghost is the last one to cut himself a slice. He was hesitant at first before finally giving in, plus he also got back from a mission and he's hungry. So when he digs in his fork and has his first taste, it's kinda like that scene from Ratatouille where the food critic Anton Ego finally takes a bite of Remy's food and is reminded of his childhood, except Ghost doesn't have a childhood.

Let me tell you these men are obsessed with your pie and are practically fighting over the last slice like a pair of siblings so don't be surprised when you wake up the next morning to the see that the plate that your pie was in is completely empty without a single crumb in sight. Jesus. Did they lick the table down too?

Also I think you may have just given Ghost a newfound sweet tooth. When he went back to his room that night, he's debating on whether he should keep his daily routine of giving you apples, so far it’s kept you away. What he doesn’t get is that you made a whole damn pie out of the apples he gave you when they were actually supposed to be for you, or him, if you look at it from his distorted perception. But wait. What if you know it's him, and that's why you made the pie in the first place? A way to a man’s heart is not only between the forth and fifth ribs, but it’s also through his stomach. And as much as he wants to deny it, he also kind of secretly wants you to bake another one. It's almost as if he's completely forgotten why he placed those apples on your desk in the first place.

So what do you see when you wake up the next morning? An empty plate and yet another apple sitting on your desk. Okay what the fuck. You've let it slide all those times but now you have got to know who's pulling this shit. It’s not that you hate apples, but the conception that you have no clue who’s behind this is making you start to view the poor defenseless fruit as an object of taunting and torment. And to be honest at this point, you're beginning to think this is some kind of joke. So with the apple in your hand, you head towards the common area where the others are currently settled.

“Okay who did it?” You call out once you enter the area.

Crickets chirping.

All heads snap towards you to see you standing there with an apple held in your hand. They're almost stunned to see you wandering about. They rarely ever see you since you're usually locked up in your office or your room.

The men have done a lot of shit so just what is it that are you asking. They stare at you with not a single thought behind their eyes, that is until their blood runs cold at what happened last night. Was the pie not meant for them? Shit.

“Did what?” Gaz gulps, trying to play it off as nothing happened.

"Who keeps leaving apples on my desk like I'm about to host a county fair?"

"Come again?" Price asks, not that he didn't hear you, but it's probably the most anyone has heard you speak that isn't related to your work. Not only that, but they’re so used to hearing your “doctor” voice that your normal voice is a whole pitch lower and almost sounds foreign and alien to their ears. Not that they’re complaining because they honestly love hearing it.

"Someone has been leaving apples on my desk every single day." You repeat yourself more slowly. "And I'd like to know who."

So you're not mad about the pie.

Ghost immediately snaps his head away from your direction and nearly chokes on his tea. It's almost a miracle he doesn’t get whiplash from how fast he turns away.

The others are still staring at you, a tad bit scared of the expression that sat on your face. They couldn't make out if you were upset or not.

"Well?" You ask, leaning against the doorframe with your hand stuffed in your coat pocket while your other hand tossed the apple about in the air.

"Couldn't be me." Soap answers.

The others shake their heads as you squint your eyes at each and every one of them, trying to decipher the culprit. "Whoever it is, I will find out." You take a bite out of the apple before tossing it to the nearest person, who happened to be Alejandro, before starting to leave the area.

Alejandro catches the apple between his hands, staring down at the fruit with a chuckle to see where you had bit into it before taking a bite of his own.

Soap can't help but clench his jaw at Alejandro's cockiness. Ghost just turns away unbothered, it’s none of his concern. Or at least that’s what he tells himself.

"Wait you're not mad about the pie?" Gaz calls out after you.

"What pie?" You turn back.

Wot

"The pie....from last night."

"I have no clue what you're talking about." You put on your best innocent expression before walking away.

The men snap their heads towards each other. Have they been poisoned? The longer they stare at each other, the more panicked they get.

Alejandro glances down at the apple you had thrown in his hands and is so close to spitting out the bite he had taken.

"I'm kidding." Your voice nearly makes them jump out of their skin as they turn to see your head popped through the doorway. "The pie was from me." You walk away again before turning back around. "Oh, I almost forgot. I have your blood results so if you're free, come see me when you get the chance."

Shit. Ghost thinks to himself after hearing you mention the blood results. He is hoping his blood sample got demolished in some shape or form, but the way you didn't even try to pull him aside to break the "unfortunate" news tells him otherwise. He's just not going to show.

The men watch you walk away in silence after your little moment of humor. They almost don't know how to react. The way the warmth of your voice blended with the obscurity of your words threw them in for a loop.

All except Ghost have no clue who has been sending you apples, but whoever it is that is sending you the fruit, they think that person is trying to win you over. So what started out as some misunderstanding on Ghost's end has now turned into this whole peacocking ordeal. Now it's a competition of who gets you better gifts in order to gain your affection, mainly Soap and Alejandro and even Gaz, but mostly Soap. Price still shows you appreciation for your work and what you do in his own way.

Poor Ghost was just trying to manifest "an apple a day keeps the doctor away". So who’s gonna tell him?

Anyways, when you return to your office to work on your paperwork, the boys go out to get you a little something before meeting up with you to go over their bloodwork results. Despite Soap and Gaz's efforts, Alejandro is the first to leave and the first to return. And just as Soap returns with his little gift for you, Alejandro beats him to it, a smirk playing on his lips as he enters your office with a red rose in hand. Poor Gaz wasn't able to find you anything special so he gets you a cool looking rock he saw instead.

Soap is practically fuming. If you squint hard enough, you might see smoke coming out his ears.

You hear a knock on your door and look up from where you sat at your desk to see Alejandro stepping into your office, a sly smirk on his lips as he holds out a rose.

"Alejandro." You quirk a brow. "What's this?"

"For you, hermosa."

"Oh?" You cock your head back in surprise as you take the rose from his hands. "What for?"

"Oh just a little way of showing appreciation." Alejandro leans against your desk.

"Why thank you Alejandro" You blink, trying your best to push down the blush that tries to creep itself onto your cheeks.

"My pleasure."

You decide to place the flower inside the empty vase you had already set out from before when you moved your things in. "I had been meaning to get some flowers to brighten up the area."

"There's no need" Alejandro smirks. "I'm afraid the rose doesn't compare to you. You do that all on your own."

Little do you know Soap is listening in on the whole thing with a frown. If he pressed his ear any closer he'd fall right through the door. Sure the Scots have their special charm but Alejandro is different and has the most rizz out of all of them, and Soap is fully aware and has always heard they make better lovers and that only adds to his panic.

Now you're definitely not able to hide the heat that spread through your face. You can't tell if it's the state of being flustered or just social anxiety. Well they weren't wrong about Alejandro having a way with words. "Geez, thank you Alejandro. But there really is no need for flattery."

"For you, anything hermosa."

Omfg this dude.

You look away from his strong gaze, managing to shove your flustered state away and stopping yourself from releasing the sharp wit you inherited from your father. Clearing your throat, you open up his file. "Well that really is kind of you Alejandro. And since you are already here, I have the results from your blood work."

"Oh? Everything should be good yes?"

"Well yes, for the most part but-"

"But what?" Alejandro looks confused. What's wrong with his blood?

"Your cholesterol levels are pretty high." You open up his file and read over his results.

"They are?"

"I'm afraid so, but not at a dangerous level. You should probably cut out some of that fried food and red meat and watch your butter intake. Nothing too serious though. Add some greens into your diet, as well as some nuts and whole grains and definitely more fruits and veggies and you're good to go." You hand him a copy of his results before giving a look of grimace. "But watch out on the fiber though. Too much of it can lead to increased bowel movements."

"Increased what?"

"You know, a case of the shits."

The way Soap pulls his ear away from the door and slaps his palm on mouth to keep himself from letting out the most offensive laugh known to mankind. If only you could have seen it. Is he going to bring this up in Alejandro's presence? Maybe.

Alejandro looks over the papers you gave him. "Wait really?"

"Yeeaaah." You give the poor fellow a sympathetic smile. "But hey, everything you need to know is right on those papers, so as long as you cut out the foods mentioned and get a higher intake of the others listed, you'll be back to normal in no time."

"Oh uh. Thank you y/n. I appreciate it."

"Anytime Alejandro." You smile. "You know where to find me."

The way Soap nearly trips over himself as he backs away from the door after hearing footsteps, as if he wasn't eavesdropping on every thing.

Alejandro opens the door and walks out of your office, eyes glued to the papers while Soap is just standing there trying not to be noticed.

The moment Alejandro is out of sight, Soap goes over and knocks on your door.

"Come in." You look up and smile to see Soap. Over the course of the few days since you first arrived here, you were to quick to warm up to the young Scotsman, finding comfort and humor in his personality. You enjoyed hearing him talk about just about anything, and his accent always helped to make whatever he had to say all the more interesting. It really is a good thing he does most of the talking since you make a better listener and love to hear what others have to say.

Soap knows you don't talk much and how you prefer to listen and hear stories, so he always makes sure to keep you entertained. This man is 100% golden retriever energy. Also he calls you lass and lassie and you just eat that shit up, he loves how you blush and that small restrained smile appears on your face whenever he says it. Don't worry, so would I. "Soap! You can have a seat if you want, this will be brief."

"Oh uh, I've actually got you something." Soap hands you a small box.

"Oh?" You quirk a brow as you take the box from his hands? What is it with everyone giving you gifts? Are they in on something you're not? "What is it?" You ask as you open the small box to see a bunch of what looks to be biscuits.

"Scottish shortbread." Soap smiles, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. "I brought them along with me from back home but I thought you'd like them with your morning coffee."

"Wait, are you sure you don't want them for yourself? I feel bad."

"Nah. I can always get more.......if-when I go back home. You keep em. It's for ya. Think of it as a welcoming gift.....for all ya done, and the pie ya made for us."

"Soap, I don't know what to say." You give the man a heartfelt smile. "Thank you.....really, it's very thoughtful of you. It'll give me a variety from my bagels."

"Don' mention it." Soap places his hands behind his back before noticing a small framed picture you had set up on your desk that definitely wasn't there before. "Is that you?"

"Hm?" You raise you brow to see what he is referring to and seeing him gesture to the photo.

"Oh. Yeah, that's me as a little girl." You glance at the photo as a soft smile appears on your face. It was a picture of you when you were a little girl around the age of 5, when your dad took you on a camping trip to Zion. The two of you were sitting near the tent he had set up overlooking the mountain range with you sitting in his arms while he played his guitar, wearing that same old baseball cap of his that you had grown accustomed to seeing as you grew up. The longer you looked at the picture and relived that core memory, glancing at the crooked grin that sat on your little face and the way your father beamed, the more your face began to match the fond look that radiated off your father's eyes as he looked down at your giggling state.

"That's quite the smile you got there." Soap teases, chuckling at the expression you held in the photo.

"Oh please." You roll your eyes, knowing exactly what he was joking about. "I know I looked goofy. My baby teeth were falling out."

"And that's yer dad?"

"Yup. That's my old man."

"Ya have yer father's eyes." Soap smiles at you, knowing now where you inherited that certain warmth held in your eyes that was able to put the coldest man at ease by just one look.

You let out a soft chuckle, glancing down at the ground to blink away the tears that have yet to form before looking back up at the soldier. "I've been told."

"Where was this taken? The scenery is absolutely braw."

"That was taken at Zion National Park in Utah. My dad had taken me there on a camping trip."

"It's absolutely gorgeous."

"Maybe I'll take you one day."

"Ya mean it?" Soap turns towards you, a grin forming on his face.

"Why not? It's been a while since I went, not since the photo."

"I think you've just made my day lass." Soap smirks before turning to the other photo. "And I'm guessing that's you as well." Soap gestures to the other photo of you around your middle school years that your dad had taken of you, wearing a wet suit as you sat on your surfboard, a grin on your face and your hair matted with salt water while one of your hands formed the shaka sign. "I dinnae ken you surfed."

"Oh yeah, surfing was my life. This was back when I had caught my first wave in Hawaii. My dad was so proud. Took me out for shaved ice right after and couldn't stop bragging to everyone there about how effortlessly I had tube ridden that thing."

"Your dad sounds like a great man."

"The best."

Soap notices the way your smile ever so slightly dropped at one of the corners, as if some sadness had managed to overcome whatever memories that lied in your head so he clears his throat, deciding not to press on the subject any better. "So how does my blood look?"

"Good actually." You blink, his statement reminding you of what you were going to do since he stepped into your office in the first place. "Your levels are all pretty balanced." You hand him a copy of his results. "As for the muscle cramps you mentioned, try to get a higher intake of electrolytes like potassium, magnesium, and calcium. And most importantly, don't forget to stay hydrated and drink lots of water."

"Aye ma'am. I'll make sure of it."

"Thank you Soap."

"No, thank you." Soap gives you one last smile before heading out. "I'll see you around."

"Bye."

It was not long after Soap left that Gaz entered next followed by Price, hearing you go over their results with intent ears. You actually really loved the little rock Gaz had given you, he had even drawn a smiley face on for you. You thought it was really cute despite his embarrassment in not finding you something better. And after the two left, there was only one person left that had yet to show up at your door. Simon 'Ghost' Riley.

Not wanting to pressure the man who looks like he'd stab you for looking at him the wrong way, you decided to stay at your desk, working over some paperwork of your own until the time comes when he decides to show up whenever he sees comfortable.

Picking up your mug, you decide to get some more coffee, leaving your office and heading to the kitchen area to brew yourself a new cup. Looking up from your feet, you see Ghost walking walking in your direction in front of you.

"Ghost!" You call out to him, or as much as you can call out. You never were one for raising your voice, despite the many times your previous teachers had urged you to speak up, displeased with the way you preferred to keep to yourself as opposed to your more extroverted peers. But even when carrying out their commands to speak louder, you always hated doing so, thinking it drew too much attention towards you. It's a wonder you got through med school and became a doctor in the first place.

Ghost had heard you calling out his name and immediately his muscles tense. The last thing he wanted was for you to see him because that only meant one thing, being dragged into your office to go over his blood results until something else insulting slips from his lips. I promise he doesn't hate your guts! So in order to evade you, this man does the first thing that comes to mind, he walks straight into the nearest room, which just so happens to be the shared showers. Simon you dumb fuck. Let’s hope Price isn’t butt ass naked in there for Simon’s sake.

You blink, standing there with your mug that your friend from college thought would be funny to gift you when you started med school, the one that had the words "I have a PHD" in bold colorful letters with the finer print "pretty huge dick" right below it (of course you never used that mug back at the hospital or else you'd hear about it).

So with your mug in hand, you watch the masked man walk straight into the room where the shared showers were. Huh. Well that's weird. You try to give the man the benefit of the doubt, thinking he just did not hear you. Maybe he'll stop by later. So shrugging off what just happened, you head into the kitchen to make yourself a fresh cup of coffee. God an iced coffee sounds good right now.

Once you had headed back to your office, finishing up your work and taking little breaks in between to read your book or snack on something, an hour turned into two, and so forth. Until you looked at your clock and it was already past the time of sunset. Jesus. Where did this dude go? Getting up from your chair, you step out of your office, holding the door open and seeing not a single soul headed in your direction. What in the-

With furrowed brows, you step back into your office, staring down at Ghost's results that just sat there waiting to be picked up.

"Goddamn it." You hiss between your teeth. You have no idea what his issue is or why he avoids you as if you spit in his fruit loops or tea or whatever. But if he keeps this up, it could interfere with your own job. Looking around at your desk, an idea pops into your head as you grab two things that lied there, a sticky note and a two dum-dum lollipops, a sugar cookie flavor and a butterscotch one.

Heading out of your office, you head towards where the men's rooms are located before stopping at a certain particular one, surveying the area around you to make sure no one sees you before staring straight at the door in front of you. Taking out your pen, you write on the note "please stop by my office when you get a chance", making sure to add your initials in the corner before taping it to his door along with the two lollipops, hoping the candy will be some sort of bribe.

"God I hope this works and he doesn't shoot me in the head." You mutter out before heading back to your own quarters that was separate from the men's due to standard protocol. Throwing off your coat and your clothes, you threw on an oversized t-shirt and some sweats, eating a microwaveable dinner in your own room before getting ready to go to bed. There was nothing you craved more than to collapse onto the mattress and bury yourself under the covers. And as you finished brushing your teeth, turning off the lights and getting into a comfortable position under your blanket, all you could do was stare at the ceiling above you.

Little did you know, that same night, in that same moment, there was another who could not sleep, staring at the ceiling as you did now. He had saw the note that you had left him on his door, as well as the two lollipops. It almost annoyed him, whatever it was you were showing towards him. And it did not help that the note had smelled of you, of that perfume that oh so enriched his senses. The man literally has your note laying on top of his bedside table along with the lollipops. He'll throw it out first thing tomorrow he tells himself.

"Oh come the fuck on." You moaned as you turned over onto your side but to no avail. No matter how hard you tried to shut your eyes and shut out any thoughts that attempted at keeping you awake, you just could not fall asleep until you finally give up. "Jesus fuck shit fuck." You hiss to yourself as you throw the blanket off you, sitting up on your bed and throwing on your sweatpants before getting up. Usually on nights like this where you couldn't sleep, you'd find a way to calm your nerves, whether it be reading or drawing or listening to a comforting audiobook.

So, grabbing your pillow and blanket, you open up your closet and grab your father's acoustic guitar, going back over to your bed and staring at the framed photo of your dad that sat on the bedside table before taking that with you as well. Leaving your room, you make sure to be as quiet as possible, looking both ways before heading up towards the roof of the building.

When you were little and had trouble sleeping, your dad used to take you outside to where the two of you had built a little fort, where the two of you would lay under the stars, brushed over by the cool night breeze as he played his guitar, singing old folk and slow classic rock songs until you finally fell asleep. And as you stepped onto the roof, craning your neck to stare up at the stars above you, you were reminded of those moments and the peace it gave you. Setting your bedding down, you prop the picture of your dad up next to you before sitting down with the guitar in hand.

"Hey dad." Your voice is a whisper as you look down at the photo of your father beside you. The photo was taken not even a month after you were born. He had taken you to the fire station he was stationed at, excited to introduce his team to his new precious baby girl, his first child. You could almost say it was your favorite photo of him, sitting on the front bumper of the firetruck in his uniform with you bundled up in a pink blanket in his arms.

"I know it's been a bit of a while since we've last talked." You sigh, forming your fingers into a chord on the fretboard of the guitar. "So to make up for it, I'm going to sing you one of the songs I always used to sing. You know the one, it's one of my favorites, and yours too."

Despite his efforts to fall asleep, Simon had ended up stepping out of his room, walking about the grounds to somewhat ease his mind. This was obviously nothing new to him, he always had trouble sleeping. And during those nights he had trouble sleeping, he'd take a walk to help clear his head. He found comfort in the silence of the night, when everything and everyone was asleep. He would usually go to his favorite spot on the rooftop, where he would seek refuge under the obsidian skies and the silver stars.

As he goes up the stairs that lead up to the roof, he stops at the sound that comes from beyond the door, what sounds to be someone singing and strumming the guitar. Curious to know who the hell had taken his spot and had the radio playing, he goes up further to investigate. So imagine his surprise when he finds you there instead, wrapped up in your blanket and strumming against your guitar, singing The Sundays cover of Wild Horses.

"Childhood living is easy to do The things that you wanted, I bought them for you Graceless lady, you know who I am You know I can't let you slide through my hands" Your voice is ethereal as you sing out the lyrics, your face molded into these deep emotions you can't quite explain.

"Wild horses couldn't drag me away Wild horses couldn't drag me away

I watched you suffer a dull, aching pain And now you've decided to show me the same No sweeping exits or offstage lines Could make me feel bitter or treat you unkind

Wild horses couldn't drag me away Wild, wild horses couldn't drag me away

Faith has been broken and tears must be cried Let's do some living after we die

Wild horses couldn't drag me away Wild, wild horses couldn't drag me away

Wild, wild horses, we'll ride them someday Wild, wild horses, we'll ride them someday."

During the entirety of the song, Simon stands there in the distance behind you, hidden in the shadows, entranced, and can't seem to explain the tingles he feels washing over his body. He thinks he has intruded upon you and wants to leave you to your solitude in what seems to be an intimate moment for you, and yet he can't seem to be able to get his feet to move. Instead he's watching you with this newfound interest. He had never expected you to play the guitar as you did, nor have the voice that you did. So as you finish your song, he almost trips over his own feet trying to back away, scared that you might somehow notice that he had been there this whole time.

"God I miss you dad." You wipe away at the tears that start to spill down your cheeks despite your attempts to wipe them away with the back of your sleeve, scanning your eyes over the stars that scattered across the sky, imagining he was up there amongst them. "I miss you so much."

Regaining his footing, Ghost is careful to open the door leading back into the building, that is until he hears you let out what sounds to be a choked sob. He turns his head back towards you, seeing you bring your knees up to your chest as you cry out, mumbling something he can't quite understand. With his hand still holding the door open, he looks down at the set of stairs, turning his head back towards you for one more time before going down the steps, being careful to shut the door without any noise possible.

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Inspiration

A/N: Alright, so I got a little inspired/horny for Echo, and then this got a little meta, but you know what, I stand by it. Have some Echo smut. As always, thank you to the outstanding @teletraan-meets-jarvis for beta-reading this (and assuring me that this is not, in fact, too corny). SO HERE WE GO.

Pairing: ARC Trooper Echo x F!Reader

Rating: E (18+ ONLY, MINORS SKEEDADDLE) - blow job, cum eating, rough oral sex (consensual), cockwarming, PiV sex, Echo gets to be a bit demanding (it's what he deserves)

You sigh, scrubbing your hands over your face. 

Why won’t the words come? You know how to do this. 

Your fingers hover over the keyboard again before gently drifting to the keys, starting to punch out a sentence you hope will finally lead you in some direction. 

She sighed seductively, gently tossing her long hair over her shoulder as she seductively (CHANGE THIS WORD!) sank to her knees and sighed… seductively.

Fuck. This is it. The long-awaited encounter between the main characters. And all I can think of is… garbage.

You switch to another paragraph, hoping to find your stride and circle back. 

His cock sat on her tongue, a familiar weight pulsing against the muscle in her mouth. 

You wrinkle your nose at that sentence before moving on. 

He tasted of…

You pause. 

You know what it tastes like. You’ve given a blow job before. Maker, you’re an idiot tonight.

No matter how much you wrack your brains, you are unable to describe anything in the scene to your satisfaction. Not the scenery. Not the emotions. Certainly not the sex. You gently tap your forehead against your desk, swearing under your breath. 

You know how to do this. You know how to write. You know words other than ‘seductively.’ You do this for a living, for Maker’s sake.

Your fingers impatiently drum against the wood as you rest your chin on the meat of your palm, staring at the holo computer’s screen. 

Come on. You know how to write this stuff. 

A quiet sigh comes from your living room, and you hear your couch creak as weight shifts on its worn cushions and frame. Your head turns towards the door, straining to hear anymore from the man on the other side of it.

I’d rather be out there with him. 

You glare at the chrono as it slowly counts down towards your self-imposed deadline.

But I have to complete this chapter draft by tomorrow morning so they can review it. 

Your editor has been on your ass for awhile, and you’d sworn up and down that you’d have a draft of this chapter completed by the end of this week. And now here you were, about to default on a promise, but somehow feeling more guilty about the neglected guest in your living room. 

He leaves tomorrow morning, and I’m in here instead of being out there with him.

The plight of dating an ARC trooper. You take what moments you can, understanding that he may have to run off to the next fight with only a rotation’s notice. Even if you had a deadline and couldn’t spare a night. 

He’ll never say anything about it. But I hate it.

You tap your forehead against the desk one more time for good measure, to really hammer home the guilt in your mind before you lift your head again to stare at the screen. Your repetitive, ineffective sentences stare back, mocking you. You huff a frustrated sigh.

Fuck this.

Making a decision to allow yourself some time with him, even if it means you will get no sleep, you push back from your desk, your chair rolling away from the back of your legs as you stand. And then the idea comes to you.

For inspiration. Research purposes, really. Completely justifiable.

A sly grin slips across your face as you slink to your door, pushing it open quietly. You can’t help but erupt into an all-encompassing smile as you take in the sight before you. 

Echo is stretched out on your couch in only the bottom half of his undersuit. His armor is stacked neatly by the door, his folded shirt, gloves, and socks piled neatly on top. His feet are bare, and his toes wriggle reflexively as he rolls one ankle, flexing his foot. He has one arm tucked behind his head, his other hand holding the datapad he’s reading from. His eyes trace lines of text, and you wonder what he’s reading this time.  

You’d been very upfront with Echo about what your career was, and while you had been fairly certain he was going to be fine with it given his nature, you could never have anticipated the enthusiasm he’d shown when you told him. When he’d discovered you were a romance author, he’d immediately scraped enough credits together to purchase your other novels. It had taken him less than a week to finish everything you’d written, and he couldn’t stop gushing over how talented you were and how much he enjoyed the stories. He’d been a bookworm as long as you’d known him. In fact, a good amount of your first dates had featured just the two of you on the couch together, a pot of tea or a bottle of wine resting on the low table in front of you while the two of you read your individual novels, slowly drifting closer together until you were snuggled into his side. 

He finally notices you standing in the doorway watching him as you reminisce, and he shifts, meeting your gaze and returning your smile. Your insides melt, and you stifle a giggle that threatens to erupt as your face grows warm. 

“Hey, you,” he says softly. “Taking a break?” 

“Something like that,” you reply teasingly, striding over to the couch. He sits up to make room, but you bend, holding his knees in place. His eyebrow skyrockets upwards as he gives you a questioning look. 

“What’s going on?” he asks slowly, the corner of his mouth upturning as he watches your fingers begin to work at the buttons on your blouse. 

You shrug coyly, letting your shirt slip from your shoulders to the floor as you slowly kneel between his spread legs. “Oh, you know. Needed some inspiration. Figured I’d come out here and do some research.”

His pupils blow wide as his eyes trail across your lace-covered breasts before the sensation of your fingernails grazing his thighs through the black fabric of his pants pulls his attention back to your eyes. You can tell he’s caught onto your game. The muscles in his legs jump underneath your fingertips, and you spot the telltale bulge beginning to become more pronounced between his legs. You smile wickedly, leaning forward to trail kisses across his bare collarbone, gently tracing your tongue along the dip near his shoulder. 

Echo gasps quietly, and you grin against his skin, nipping gently at his throat before you begin working your way downwards, peppering his scarred chest with kisses. Your lips meet his abdomen, which flexes in reaction to your breath grazing him. Your tongue slips past your lips, moistening his skin as you finally make your way to his navel, nuzzling against the light dusting of hair that traces from his belly button to below his pants. 

You can feel his cock pressing against your stomach now, rock hard and throbbing, and your mouth instinctively waters. You rock your body against it slightly, and even just that mere amount of friction pulls a groan from Echo. You glance upward to find him watching you with an intensity he saves for only you, and you smile, maintaining eye contact as you press your tongue to his stomach, trailing it down until it reaches the waistband of his black compression pants. 

His teeth graze his lower lip as you hook your fingers under the band, and his hips shoot off the couch to allow you to remove his pants, tossing them somewhere to be dealt with later. His freed cock bounces against his stomach, and you note the droplet of precum that’s already formed at its head.

Patience. Not yet. Work up to it. Work him up. 

You press more kisses to his bare hip, working your way down his leg until you playfully nip at his inner thigh, and he jumps. 

“Tease,” he groans. You poke your tongue out between your teeth. 

“I think you like it,” you reply. 

“Not tonight,” he rasps. 

“Impatient,” you counter. 

“For you? Always.” One of his hands slips under your chin, cupping your jaw as his thumb traces your lower lip. You part your lips to allow him to slip his thumb into your mouth, suckling lightly. His other hand grips his cock, beginning to pump slowly. You lean forward, pushing his thumb deeper into your mouth, and he presses down on your tongue. You push back, swirling around the digit, and Echo curses softly. 

“That what you’re going to do to me, love?” 

You nod, letting him pull his thumb away. Leaning forward, you open your mouth, staring up at him with wide, innocent eyes. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, and you leave it out, inviting him. His eyes follow the movement, and he cups your cheek again. 

“Yeah, you want this?” 

You nod again. “Please.” 

He presses the tip of his cock to your lips, and you kiss it teasingly, the warmth familiar against your lips. You lick at it playfully, keeping your eyes locked on his. His mouth hangs slightly open, his brows furrowed as he focuses on you, holding his cock firmly to your tongue as your licks grow more languid and long until you finally run your tongue from his base to the tip, at last taking the head into your warm mouth. You both groan, his head tipping back as you refamiliarize yourself with the taste of him, suckling gently at the head of his cock before allowing it to sink deeper into your mouth, running the length of him along your tongue, tracing the vein that runs along the bottom. 

Warm. Thick. Heavy. 

You take him deeper, relaxing your throat until you finally manage to take him almost entirely, your nose brushing the dark curls at the base of his cock. You inhale his scent deeply before swallowing, and Echo moans loudly. Your eyes are watering, but you don’t care as you watch his head tip backwards, his Adam’s apple bobbing as the muscles in his neck become more pronounced. His pectorals tighten, and his hands ball into fists. You reach forward, taking one of his hands and embedding it in your hair. 

You know he’ll be gentle, or at least gentle enough. 

Echo’s head snaps back forward, and he finds your eyes again. His lips part as he pants, his eyebrows knitting together. He cradles the back of your head, not pushing but gently guiding your head as you begin to bob up and down on his cock. You watch as the control begins to slip, and you urge him on by taking him to the back of your throat, pushing against your body’s limits. You gag, and his hand flies away from your head in alarm, and his hips jerk, pulling himself out of your mouth. A string of spit trails from your lips to the glistening tip of his cock, and before he can get out the first syllables of an apology, you chase him, forcing him to the back of your throat again. You grab his hand forcefully, pressing it to the back of your head as you watch him. 

You swallow and you gag again, but you hold yourself in place this time as tears fill the corners of your eyes. Echo’s entire body seems tensed, trying to maintain control as he watches you practically choke yourself on his cock. 

“I-is that what you want?” he stutters out finally. “For me to ruin you?” The second sentence comes out quieter, darker, and you can see he’s hopeful the answer will be ‘yes.’

You swallow again in affirmation, and he swears louder. 

“Then I’ll give you what you want,” he grits out. “Tap three times on my leg if it’s too much.” You tap three times to demonstrate, and he nods. “Good. That’s good.” With that, his other hand fists in your hair, and he begins rocking his hips into you, dragging your head all the way up and down his length forcefully, slowly accelerating as he finds his rhythm and your limits. You completely surrender to him. 

Echo chases his pleasure, muttering praise under his breath as he thrusts into your mouth. 

“So good for me. Taking everything I give. So eager. Willing to choke yourself on my cock. F-fuck.” 

He grunts, holding you with his cock in the back of your throat. Your lips stretch around his girth, and your jaw aches deliciously.

“Swallow for me love. Y-yeah. That’s it. Good girl.” 

You preen at the praise, even as you fight your gag reflex. 

“There you go. Relax your throat. Again. Swallow. S-so good for me. Maker.” 

The sweet ARC trooper that you’ve fallen in love with has completely been eclipsed, replaced with someone unafraid to ask for what he wants, someone who prioritizes his pleasure for once. 

And you love it. 

You know you’ll get yours in the end. 

“So f-fuckin’ pretty. Y-your eyes. So good. F-fucking tits that I think about all the time. And that mouth... Fuck.”

His cock is twitching against your tongue as he continues to mumble filth, sweat trickling from his brow. You feel some of the roots of your hair ache in protest under his grip, but the slight pain only sends electricity shooting through your veins. You’ve got both hands pressed against his thighs for balance, and you fight the urge to slip a hand in your pants to pleasure yourself. 

Focus on him. Focus on the feeling.

Give him everything he wants.

“‘M close,” he rasps. “W-where?”

He lifts you off his cock long enough for you to answer, stroking it inches from your face, his fingers growing wet with your saliva. 

“Wherever… you want,” you gasp in reply. 

His eyes glint for a moment, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Well, if this is for research, best to be thorough.” Heat shoots between your legs. Your panties are soaked, you’re certain. He taps his cock against your swollen lips, and you open again, welcoming him back inside your mouth. “Want you to taste me. Can you do that, love? Be a good girl and swallow every last drop?” 

You hum eagerly, and he grunts, his hips leaping off your couch. “D-do that again,” he pleads, and you oblige. He presses your head down, working you along the entirety of his length as you frantically swirl your tongue against all of the places you know he loves. His thrusts grow shorter, and you feel his thighs tense beneath your palms. 

“Look at me,” he rasps. 

You oblige, meeting his gaze, and he presses himself to the back of your throat.

“I-I-I’m…” he never finishes his sentence, instead unleashing a loud moan as he empties himself into your throat. You savor the taste as he groans with every spurt of his release.

Salty. Tangy. Warm. Him. 

You swallow everything before running your tongue over his softening cock one last time for good measure, ensuring you’ve cleaned every last drop from him. Echo’s head is tipped over the back of the couch again, his chest heaving as his hand absently strokes your hair. Your knees creak in protest and your legs quiver as you carefully climb into his lap, peppering his jawline with kisses as he fights to get his breathing under control. His hands come to rest on your hips before slipping up your spine, pulling you close to him. He cups your cheek before kissing you deeply, inhaling through his nose and drinking you in. You feel him quiver, as he rests his forehead against yours. 

“That… was something else,” he whispers. “All that for some inspiration, huh? Is that what we’re calling him these days?” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, and you giggle. 

“Absolutely not.”

He shrugs. “Worth a shot.” 

“You’ve been spending too much time with Fives,” you tease. You pause as you see something hovering in his gaze. It’s apparent it’s weighing him down slightly. “What is it?” you ask.

He pauses. “It’s silly.”

“Echo.”

“Alright. Fine.” He sighs, giving you a sheepish grin. “I was… I guess I was just worried that I wasn’t living up to those stories you’ve written.”

You giggle softly, pressing another kiss to his lips. “At the risk of sounding cheesy, I found the guy that I was writing into those stories, Echo. It was you, even if I didn’t know it yet.”

“But… but we don’t do all of those things.”

You shrug. “We could. But it’s not about all of the different sex positions and kinks I write about. It’s the fact that I found a partner that I feel safe with, one that I trust. One that prioritizes me more than himself, even though I’d be satisfied with an even trade. One that wants to learn with me about how we work best together, in all aspects of the relationship.” You kiss his forehead. “But, if you ever want to experiment with some of the other stuff I write about, I’m more than willing to give it a try.” 

He grins. “Well, now that you mention it…”

—

He locked his mouth around her nipple, lavishing the sensitive bud as she arched into his touch, chasing her pleasure with renewed fervor as she neared the precipice, her moans crescendoing with her approaching climax. 

Echo’s breath is warm against your ear as he whispers to you. “I really like that. Beautifully written.” His cock pulses inside of you, and you squirm, groaning in frustration despite the compliment to your writing. His fingers dig into your hips as he tuts scoldingly in your ear. 

“Now, now. None of that. Not until you’ve finished your draft.” 

When he’d immediately expressed interest in cockwarming, you didn’t think he’d have the patience for it, but half an hour and a few thousand words in, he’d surprised you. Even more shocking, you were a few paragraphs from being satisfied with your draft. However, concentrating was becoming progressively more difficult. 

“Echo,” you whine. “Please. Just a little bit.” 

He lets his chin rest on your shoulder, nibbling at your earlobe playfully. “Not. Until. You’re. Done.” 

You groan, slumping back against his shoulder, but even with this slight feint, he won’t allow you to rock your hips more than a centimeter. You’re completely laid bare, your legs hanging uselessly outside of his, impaled on his cock. You’re certain there has to be a puddle under your chair. He chuckles, gently playing with one of your nipples. You fight the urge to pout. 

“Come on love. You’re so close to being done. And then I’ll give you everything you want.” 

You lean forward again, resting your elbows on the desktop. Your fingers find the keyboard just as his drift between your legs, gently rubbing at your clit with just the perfect amount of pressure. You gasp. 

“Oh, come on. That’s not fair.”

He chuckles against the skin of your neck. “What? I thought it would inspire you to go faster.” 

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Hey, university student here. I’m having a hard time getting around to working on reading and homework due to depression and anxiety. Do you have any tips for developing discipline while taking care of my mental health?

Hi there, my love. First off, thanks for your message, as someone who also has anxiety, it’s been a lot to try and manage that as well as work/life balance. Some tips with developing discipline while taking care of your mental health are:

have set times each day where you know you for sure will be studying and cut off times where you know you will be taking care of yourself eg. studying from 5pm-7pm and from 7pm-8pm just do things that are for you and your mental health

seeing a mental health professional regularly, whether this be school councillor or psychologist. It’s so important.

journalling - I used to journal every night, now I journal every other night. I keep my diary on my bedside table and a pen with it so it’s convenient to do before I go to sleep

build a routine - I use THIS printable planner by @anoukostudies I’m currently making a video on how I plan so I’ll let you guys know when that’s out. As a subcategory of building a routine, have a cut off on devices and work at the same time every night to make sleep a priority.

exercise - I had REALLY REALLY low moods a few years ago, and I can honestly say that moving away from a toxic environment in combination with caring for my body through exercise and proper nutrition made me a MUCH happier person. At one point I felt like I wouldn’t be happy again, I was struggling so hard. We are built to move! If you currently do no exercise, even walking to the shops and back or going for a morning walk can make SUCH a difference to your mood and productivity.

I could do more but I don’t want to overwhelm you with too much so I’ll stick with this! Don’t get me wrong, I still struggle with my anxiety, despite doing all this. There are going to be good days and bad days no matter what but what you can do is some of these to make the bad days a little more manageable <33333 Thank you for this ask, my love!! I really hope this helps!!

Hey there! So... I saw your Valentine post and I would really love to read a little something with my beloved, if that's alright! I really like your blog and your vibe so I figured it would be a great read!

So if it's alright, I'd love to request a Crosshair x Fem!Reader where the reader is shorter than him, kind of with a grumpy/sunshine or a "stoic man goes soft when he looks at the woman he loves" kind of thing... I'm so weak for that trope, honestly, and Crosshair always sweeps me off my feet ❤️

No pressure at all, love! I'll be happy to read what you write for this February 14th.

Hugs!

Hellooooo friend! :) Thanks so much! I hope this is a warm and fuzzy little read for ya. Dividers courtesy of @stars-n-spice via this post. I wasn't sure if I should post them all on the 14th or just churn em out as I finish, but I figured I'd space em out a bit. 🤓

Crosshair x Reader (I think it could be Fem or GN; hair in the face is mentioned, as well as "looking pretty", but I think that's it)

1.2k words - SFW - content warnings are just flirtin n kissin. 😜

The indoor shooting range on Kamino hummed with the steady rhythm of blaster fire, the loud noise constantly reverberating off the walls. You stood at the edge of the range, observing the troopers as they honed their skills and ready to provide additional instruction or advice as needed. A tall, lanky figure caught your eye, and your heart skipped a beat. Clone Force 99 must be on world.

Crosshair's presence always commanded attention, his tall frame towering over the troopers as he moved with purpose and precision. It wasn't the first time you had encountered him here, and each time, you found yourself captivated by his silent prowess and unwavering focus. 

As he lined up his first shot, you couldn't help but admire the way he handled his weapon with ease, his movements fluid and controlled. Despite his stoic demeanor, there was an undeniable magnetism about him, an irresistible pull that drew you in like a moth to a flame. The interactions you’d had over the last number of months had always left you wanting more; you were sure of an incredible depth and complexity beneath his icy exterior, and the few quips and jabs you’d traded in the mess hall as well as the firing range had only served to fuel your interest.

The presence of other troopers always kept his walls up, though. You noticed the way he’d walk -- steady and focused, unaffected by anything around him. His gaze was steely and his affect flat, save for the few glances you’d shared where you could swear there was an imperceptible softening in his sharp eyes.

"Nice shooting," you called out as he completed the course, a genuine smile playing at your lips. "You make it look easy." 

Crosshair grunted in response, but there was a flicker of something in his amber eyes, a hint of appreciation for your words. It wasn't often that he received praise, and you could tell it meant more to him than he let on.

"It is easy," he replied gruffly, his lips hinting at a smile. "You ever shoot anything in here, or do you just stand around and look pretty?”

You chuckled at his comment, feeling a warmth spread through you at the compliment. "I guess I just stick to what I’m best at," you replied, unable to hide the smile in your voice as you peered up at him. 

Crosshair's smirk grew, a rare display of emotion from the typically stoic sniper. "I guess," he conceded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than usual. “You want a lesson?”

The air between you crackled with tension, the unspoken attraction simmering just beneath the surface. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, and for a moment, it felt as though the world around you had fallen away.

“I suppose a little extra preparation couldn’t hurt,” you attempted, casting one last glance down the range to ensure that everyone was alright on their own for now before stepping into one of the stalls. 

Crosshair stepped in behind you, slipping a basic blaster into your hands and nodding down the alley, where the targets had begun to move and shuffle around one another in their predictable way. You took a deep breath, suddenly feeling wildly self-conscious, as though you’d never handled a weapon in your life. 

“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” you confessed. 

“Performance anxiety getting to you?” he teased, stepping closer so his chest was pressed against your back. He reached around your shoulders, easy for him from his height, and fitted his hands around yours where they rested on the blaster. Your heart skipped a beat at his proximity, suddenly swimming in this scent and closeness and presence. Almost automatically, you found yourself nestling into his embrace, completely and totally unaware of everything else going on. You heard him inhale behind you, then he quickly compensated by leveling the blaster at the first target. “Come on, show me what you’ve got.”

You sighed, bringing yourself back to the task at hand and raising the blaster to your eye, squinting to get a good aim and waiting to get the timing right. You watched the rhythm of the targets, memorizing the track and speed of each, then squeezed off a few shots, hitting some of them but not all. A self-effacing little chuckle fell from your lips as you set the blaster down on the tray in front of you, stepping to the side to look at Crosshair sheepishly. 

“You make me nervous,” you admitted, seeking an excuse but realizing it was more of a confession. 

“So sorry,” he crooned, stepping a bit closer and brushing a strand of hair back from your face. You sucked in a sharp breath, caught off guard by the sudden intimacy of the gesture.

"You've been watching me," he murmured, his voice low and smooth. "I've noticed."

Heat flooded your cheeks at the realization that he had been aware of your gaze all along. "I... I have," you confessed, meeting his gaze with a mix of nervousness and anticipation. “Sorry. You’re just really good at what you do.”

“Mmm. Is that it?” he prodded, moving his hand to brush your cheek with the backs of gently-curled fingers. 

“Geez, Crosshair,” you breathed, eyes dropping to his chest as your heart pounded in your chest. You were utterly speechless, simultaneously frozen in place and yet fighting every urge in your body to reach out and touch him, pull him hard against you. 

“Maybe a lesson of a different sort,” he suggested, a gleam in his luminous eyes that made your knees weak. Before you could respond, he leaned closer, gaze flickering down to your lips and back, hesitating for a second as though waiting for you to pull away. But you were drawn in, moving without your permission, reaching up to bring your face to his as your hand snuck around the back of his neck.

And then he was kissing you. It was gentle at first, hesitant and questioning, then slowly grew firmer as he took one more step closer, cupping your face with two strong hands. Your eyes were closed so tightly that you thought you may have been dreaming, trying so hard to commit every single detail to memory, from the shocking softness of his lips to the intoxicating sensation of his frame curled around your own. Pulling back, he met your gaze once more, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"Not bad," he remarked, his tone teasing. "But I think it could use some further practice."

You couldn't help but laugh at his playful arrogance, the tension between you dissipating like smoke in the wind. Lingering for a moment, you cupped his cheek before stepping back, resting a hand on his chest for a second and then dropping it to your side. 

“Anything for the Republic,” you said with a cheesy salute, cringing immediately at your own attempt at humor.

He slipped a toothpick into his mouth, flicking it into one corner as touched your chin with some lightly curled fingers before giving you a wink and sauntering away, leaving you standing there, dumbfounded. 

“If you’re done making out with the weirdo, can I get a reset on the lane over here?” a clone voice called out, evoking a bright blush across your face as you rushed over to help him, ignoring the taunting grin on his face. 

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TECH THEORY SEASON 2

SO HOW IS EVERYONE DOING AFTER EPISODE 13!!!???

I am so happy with this episode <3 It was so wholesome

I just wanted to ramble about why Phee works well as Tech's love interest in the Bad Batch!

The creators were waving it under our nose this entire episode!

*Tech has a new perspective of artifacts from different cultures because of his experience in Serenno (w/ Romar). Phee repeatedly mentioned that she was the "liberator of ancient wonders" and no matter the monetary value of said artifact- nothing matters more than the culture itself.

At one point, he stayed around with Phee (for a bit) to ensure that the artifact would be placed somewhere safely on Pabu.

I can COMPLETELY see Phee and Tech going to different planets to try and restore lost artifacts. Tech would most likely want to learn more about the culture itself while Phee would seek the adventure.

This entire episode was about domestic bliss, and that was only brought by her.

Tech was aware that Omega was enjoying herself with someone her age. He most likely would want to stay on Pabu for her as well. *If Phee and tech were to become a thing, then the girls could be family 👀 *

Also - I gotta love the brotherly teasing from Wrecker (and Hunter).

ALSO- Tech's reaction to "Brown Eyes" GOT ME!!! Her saying that clearly caught him off guard and in the most cutest way possible <3

----

UUGGHH, I AM SUCH A ROMANTIC! WHEN WILL IT BE MY TURN 😭