Played Fallen Order For The First Time And, Guys, My Heart

(x)

ME AND XAVIER HEHE

No thoughts. Just Tech smiling after being told he did a good job.

WHILE WATCHING JUJUTSU KAISEN GOJO IS SUCH A PROFESSIONAL YAPPER. HE MAKES ME LAUGH THROUGHOUT THE SERIES <3

sloppy makeout session with satoru save me

save me sloppy make out session

satoru save me

Laundry Day (Cal Kestis x reader)

Summary: Cal can’t always control when his psychometric powers grant him a glimpse of the past. And even less so when the object holds a powerful emotional echo.

Or: Cal picks up the shirt you masturbated in.

Warnings: NSFW 18+ MINORS DNI; afab!reader but no pronouns used; no use of y/n; porn with some plot; hints of voyeurism if you squint; sub!Cal if you squint; first kiss; first time; hand job; masturbation; if I missed anything please let me know!

A/N: This is shameless and self-indulgent and hastily written before the motivation left. I will not apologize.

Word Count: 2,205

Read it here on AO3!

NSFW below the cut!

You clench your jaw, the damp fabric of your shirt caught between your teeth as you struggle to keep quiet. But gods your fingers feel so good circling your clit and you’re absolutely soaked right now and you have to be quiet because Cal is sleeping in the room across the hall.

The thought of Cal overhearing your late-night activities makes your pussy clench around nothing. Eyes falling shut, you gather some more wetness and press more firmly on that bundle of nerves that has you on fire. Images of Cal’s toned forearms, freckled face, powerful thighs flash through your mind. You stifle a groan.

This is so bad, and you know it. You shouldn’t be getting off to the thought of your friend—never mind the fact that he’s a Jedi. But even when he’s only hidden behind a few thin durasteel walls, he occupies your mind. The way his eyes dance with fiery determination when a new opportunity to strike against the Empire arises. The way his plush lips curve up into sarcastic smiles at your jokes. His tenderness with BD. His softness with you.

And that’s what gets you all riled up in the first place: it’s just how genuinely good Cal Kestis is. There’s not a mean bone in his body. He takes care of you, and you of him, and the domesticity of it all drives you absolutely insane.

Which leads you here. You finally plunge two of your fingers into your tight, wet heat, imagining—wishing—it was Cal’s fingers instead. Exhaling a shaky breath, you crook your fingers up against the spongy wall of your cunt and press. Your hips rock involuntarily, and the added friction against your clit has your toes curling. You breathe deep through your nose, loosening your muscles as the wave of pleasure zinging through you crests.

And you cum, teeth unlatching from your shirt as you gasp out Cal’s name.

Once the aftershocks die down, you shuck the shirt off over your head, the neckline entirely damp with your now-cooling saliva. The temperature is uncomfy; you snatch a clean shirt from beneath your bunk to wear instead. Tossing the soiled shirt toward your growing laundry pile, you settle down under the covers at last, curling on your side as sleep finally, finally takes you.

The next morning when you wake, the comforting hum of the hyperdrive engine is silent. You must’ve arrived at your next destination while you slept. Good. Even though it’s only been you and Cal for about a year now, you still try to keep some extra supplies on board in case any of the old crew decide to rejoin you and Cal. And after your last run-in with the Empire, forcing you into hiding for a standard month, all of your supplies are low. You’ll use this opportunity to restock.

But first, you need to wash up. The lights on both Cal’s door and the ’fresher are green, meaning he’s probably up in the cockpit with BD. Slipping into the ’fresher, you lock the door behind you and turn the knob to heat the water up. Your sleep clothes crumple to the floor as you shuffle out of them, trying to focus on creating a mental list of the supplies you’ll need to pick up today. Yet, your traitorous mind keeps drifting back to your solo fun last night—heat throbbing between your legs at just the thought of how hard you came—and you shake your head angrily at yourself.

“Get a grip,” you grumble.

As if summoned by your thoughts, there’s a knock at the door. You jump. Your heart hammers in your throat.

“Kriff, Cal, you scared me,” you call through the door.

“Sorry,” he calls back, and you hear the genuine regret in his voice. “I just wanted to check to see if you had any laundry? It’ll be a bit before we’re able to get it done after today.”

“Good thinking,” you say. “There’s a pile on my floor. I can get it, though; don’t worry about my stuff.”

He doesn’t respond, and you visualize the sardonic, two-fingered salute he’s recently gotten in the habit of giving. A smile quirks your lips.

A smile that is quickly obliterated as a jolt of pure anxiety bursts through you. Gods, knowing Cal, he’s already gone to grab your dirty laundry, and the shirt—the fucking shirt—is right on top, and you know he can’t always control his psycho-Force-whateveritscalled powers.

The ’fresher door slams open and you dash across the narrow hall to your room.

To your horror, Cal is in fact there, gathering your clothes from the floor, and the warning to wait gets choked in your throat as he grabs the shirt on the top of the pile, the one that’s surely still damp with your spit and sweat.

His entire body stiffens, eyes widening, his grip on the other clothes going limp as he experiences the Force echo you’ve left behind. Feeling like you’ve been doused in gasoline and ice at the same time, it finally registers for you that you’re naked in front of Cal fucking Kestis and he’s feeling you cum to the thought of him.

“Cal, I—”

“Oh.” The strangled moan that tears from his throat has your mind reeling, never in a million years imagining that you’d ever hear him make such a lewd noise, let alone in reaction to you.

You reach for him, placing a shaking hand on his arm. “Are- Are you okay?”

He blinks and seems to physically re-enter this current moment. His cheeks are bright pink, his chest heaving. At his wide-eyed once over of your naked form, your knees nearly give out.

“I’m so sorry,” you continue. Panic seizes at your lungs, making it hard to breathe. “I shouldn’t have- I should have- I’m so so sorry, Cal, I can leave if you want—”

“Hey.” He rests both of his large, warm hands on your bare shoulders, forcing you to look him in the eye. “Deep breaths. I’m not- I’m not mad.”

“You’re not?” You try to catch your breath, but the darkening of his green eyes has your breath catching for an entirely different reason now.

He shakes his head. “How long?”

Chewing at the inside of your cheek nervously, you drop your gaze. “Months. Since we first met.”

Gently, he guides your chin up so that you meet his gaze again. His eyes are soft—darker than usual, yes—but there’s that familiar softness to them that unwinds some of the tension in your chest. He holds your gaze long enough for your heart to stop pounding, but you can’t will away the swirling pit of regret pulling at your insides. He’s not mad, which is great, but he’s still not said anything and you can’t figure out what he might say or what he’s feeling or—

“Can I kiss you?”

You blink dumbly. “What?”

A faint smile ghosts over his features. “Can I kiss you?”

“Oh gods yes,” you squeak out.

A true smile tugs at his lips, and then slowly, giving you ample time to change your mind and pull away, he leans down, one hand supporting the back of your head, the other cupping your cheek. Your eyes close and you stand on your toes, meeting him halfway.

His lips are as soft as you imagined, and you can’t help the needy whine that escapes you as he pulls you flush against him. Your bare, heated skin presses against the leather of his chest piece, tantalizing against the sensitive skin of your breasts. Snaking one hand up into his silken hair, your other grips at his muscled bicep, grounding yourself. His mouth moves slowly against your own.

This is really fucking happening.

He breaks the kiss, but doesn’t go far, resting his forehead against your own. You peer up through your eyelashes at him.

“I take it you feel the same?” you ask, breathless.

“Since we met,” he affirms in a low tone. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip, and you catch the digit between your teeth and suck. He groans. “Gods, if I’d known...”

You just hum, swirling your tongue around his thumb until he withdraws, only to kiss you again. Electricity feels like it dances along your skin where he touches you. Blindly, you tug him backwards with you until your legs hit the bunk. Lowering yourself, he follows, bracing himself over you with his forearms to either side of your head, caging you in. With a soft moan, you hook a leg over his hips and drag him down to you. The friction of his clothes against your aching core makes you hiss.

“Fuck, take these off, please,” you plead, tugging with weak fingers at his shirt.

He sits up just long enough to rip the offending garments off, and you practically drool at the sight of his toned chest as it is revealed to you. Scars litter the otherwise smooth alabaster, and you know you’ll take your time at a later date tracing them, committing them to memory. Right now, though, your attention is drawn farther down as he shimmies out of his pants. His hard cock, the tip a gorgeous shade of pink, bobs as it comes free of its confines.

“Oh gods,” you groan. “May I?”

“Please.”

You’ve never heard his voice so strained before, and you are nothing if not eager to continue drawing sounds from him. Wrapping your fingers tentatively around the hot shaft of his dick, you hum in delight at the way he twitches in your grip. You slowly work his cock, eyes trained on his face, catching every flutter of his eyelashes, every time he bites his lip, every miniscule reaction you can possibly gain from him.

“I want you inside me,” you say.

He groans. “I- I’ve never—”

“It’s alright,” you soothe. You release him for a moment to gather some of the slick from between your folds—and can’t resist rubbing your pussy for just a few seconds, letting a broken moan fall from your lips. Then you use the slick to lube his dick up.

“C’mere,” you say, your legs widening for him to slot in between. “I’ve got you. Say the word and it all stops.”

“I want this,” he says, eyes trained on yours as he settles himself between your thighs. “I want you.”

You hum in delight and, guiding him, line his cock up with your neglected entrance. Wrapping your legs around him, you press down with your heels to push him into you.

His head falls to your shoulder with a broken, gasping moan. You clench at the burning stretch of him filling you, nails digging into his smooth skin. He’s not even touched you, barely begun to fuck you, and you’re already ready to cum.

“Cal,” you murmur, caressing his back, “you okay?”

“S’alot,” he mumbles against your skin. “Can I—?”

“Yes, please.” You press a kiss to his shoulder. “Make love to me, Cal.”

With a whine, he slowly withdraws, every ridge and vein of his cock dragging deliciously on your walls, and then pushes back into you just as slowly. You moan with him at the sensation of filling and being filled, unsure where you begin and he ends, lost in the feeling of just him. He sets a languid pace, kissing your neck, murmuring sweet words in your ear: “You feel so good. Take me so well. Fuck, I needed this. Needed you.”

When he adjusts his grip on you, reaching beneath your body to support your hips, you laugh breathlessly.

“Gonna cum like this.”

He bites down on the sensitive juncture between your neck and shoulder as he snaps his hips against yours, making you cry out. The agonizingly slow pull out, the moment’s pause where only his tip remains in your dripping pussy, and then the overwhelming burst of pleasure as he slams back into you: it’s all you know. It’s all you’ve ever known, all you ever will know. You babble praises, begging, pleading with him, the coil in your belly growing tighter and hotter the harder he fucks into you.

“Can feel you’re close,” he slurs. “Cum for me. Please.”

That’s what does it, hearing him beg for you to cum on him. You go rigid, white flashing in your eyes as the tight coil snaps. Pleasure floods through you, and dimly you’re aware of Cal growling against your ear as he rocks you through it, his promises of cumming in you only serving to draw out the shockwaves of your orgasm. You think you scream. And then, when you feel his dick pulse as he goes absolutely still, you cum again.

He’s laughing when you come down from your high. He remains in you even as he begins to go soft, his giddy, breathless giggles pure music to your ears.

“What’s so funny?” you ask, twirling a strand of his hair between your fingers.

“I just— this is not how I expected today to go,” he says, still laughing.

You smile. “Maybe you should do the laundry more often, hm?”

He just kisses you, and you’re content with that answer.

It’s ok guys, season three opens with Omega and Crosshair being rescued and the Batch finding out that Tech survived, trust me I spoke to Mr. Star Wars in person

EnigmaTech 

My Tech lives AU! This one is based on the idea that the Bad Batch just needs someone with a clear head to follow his trail and appreciate the man for what he is truly capable of! So far I’ve stuck to one-shots and imagines, but this one felt like it needed a little more. I’m not a many-chapter-fic writer, but this one I felt like it could be divided into 3-4 solid chapters that focus on the beloved brainiac. Consider it a mini-series! 

Chapter 1 - Clues 

Tech x FAB!reader (eventually) (just female pronouns; no use of y/n, it’s all in third person [she/her]; no physical description in this one) 

Word Count: ~2.5K

Chapter Summary: Using only what the batch has at their disposal (a lot more than they realize, thank you Tech), a new friend manages to convince them that Tech survived and is in need of their help!

TW: mentions of Tech’s demise (but he lives!); reader infodumping (self-indulgent, sorry! I really connected with Tech on this and this is how I'm coping with the writers' poor decisions at the end of s2); I am a scientist, so I wanted to bring my own experiences into this a bit, hopefully, I got all the details correct, I'm not a geneticist tho, nor a comp sci person, so please be nice if I messed up!

Author's Notes:

Somehow, this came out from Hunter’s pov. Wasn’t exactly the way I’d planned it, and this might change in the next chapter, but I needed a way to illustrate how Hunter was struggling with losing two brothers and his little girl (he's 100% a girl dad now, no going back).

Also, this is totally self-indulgent. I always write she/her/reader's pov like it's me because that's what I know how to do. If I can write from the heart it's more genuine. Hope you guys are okay with that!

I like to make references to other fandoms and stuff when I write, hope you guys don’t mind that. There’s at least 1 blink-and-you-miss it Hamilton reference, among others… hehehe!

Side note, this was not beta'd. I tend to just crank stuff out because it's on my mind, and post it asap so I can get it off my chest. Please lemme know if there are typos and if you guys like it!

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She joins the team shortly after Tech and Omega are stolen from them. 

When the bad situation they were in got even worse, they ran to Rex, in need of a calm, collected, commanding presence that wasn’t in the grip of fresh losses to help them figure out what to do next. Rex brought them his best analyst, an old friend who quietly helped out in secret during the war, and now helped him rescue as many brothers as he could. 

Echo knew her. They came up with a few battle strategies together when he was with the 501st. He trusted her with his life. 

Hunter, who always held his trust in reserve to begin with, now trusted even less since Cid is the reason Omega is now in the clutches of the Empire. But Rex and Echo insisted, and he knew they were in dire straights and would not be able to rescue Crosshair and Omega (and Tech) on their own, especially not while their better judgment was clouded with so much pain. 

At first, she just helps AZI patch them up and keep an eye on them as they heal. Slowly, they begin to trust her a little more. As she brings them water so they don’t have to get up, and sits with and chats with Wrecker until he falls asleep, and helps Echo with his prostheses, and always makes a point to do everything quietly to go easy on Hunter’s senses. They appreciate how her effort says she cares.

Eventually they start letting her learn them a bit more. And they learn more about her. She’s an interesting mix. She’s somewhat neurodivergent like Tech - she can go on endless infodumps and loves to learn. But she also has moments where she exhibits what Tech once described to the as “neurotypical behaviors”. She jokes with the men and flirts with them when the time is right. She gets a lot of social cues, but she does miss a fair amount too. The boys learn why Tech describes his differences like a spectrum. 

Eventually, Hunter and Echo come to the realization that she is going to need notes, detailed notes, if they are going to find their lost siblings. They have all tried giving her as many notes as they can remember, but in order to do enough research to find them, she would need to know more about Crosshair and Omega, and no one took notes on everyone quite like Tech did. They decided to give her access to Tech’s notebook, if all 3 of them agree on it. So they confront Wrecker. He’s all in. He trusts her, despite Cid’s betrayal, his determination to see the best in people has hardly wavered. Anything she needs to help them get their brother’s back is fine with Wrecker. And he trusts that if both Hunter and Echo have come to the same conclusion, then it’s worth it. 

For days she sat reading his copious notes, it kept her quiet and distant from them - Hunter was grateful for that, he needed time to adjust to her presence He wasn’t used to being around a woman so often. She brought a different way of existing to the soldier’s lifestyle he was used to. 

Her habits and mindset was somewhat new to him. 

“It may seem like an enigma now, but there are clues everywhere. You just need to know where to look and how to read them” she had said when she began her quest to learn more about their fallen brother, lost brother, and stolen sister. 

He was just grateful he, Wrecker, and Echo didn’t have to re-live the pain watching that horrible moment all over again to try to get something out of it. 

One day she begins to surface from his notes. Hunter braces, he had gotten used to her presence like that, and didn’t think he was ready for the conversations about brother’s end that were certainly coming. 

“This passage here, about Omega… it doesn’t make sense, it’s not Tech’s words” 

“What do you mean?” Hunter peers over her shoulder “that’s him alright, watched him write that one myself shortly after we picked her up.” 

“Oh, that’s not what I meant, sorry… these words are phrased exactly the way he writes everything, his speech patterns, his grammatical ticks, he IS the one that physically wrote the words down, except one thing doesn't match his pattern: the scientific errors. The one thing he knew none of you could check.” 

“So, you’re saying that Tech tricked us?” Hunter’s annoyance is apparent in his tone. His temper was on a short fuse these days, but she understood why. 

“No! I’m saying he’s employing a handy psychology tactic here. Usually used only for one of two purposes: reassurance or manipulation, but it’s definitely the former.” You hold up a hand, knowing Hunter is read to interject and snatch Tech’s datapad away from you for implying Tech would ever deceive his brother’s and harm them. “I know, you watched him write it and he would clearly never hurt any of you intentionally. A later passage about his conversation with Omega about feelings clearly conveys that quite eloquently and explains how deeply he cares for each one of you, but I think he might be trying to protect you from the full truth here, at least until he knowns what it is. As I’m sure you noticed, almost everything he writes has a double meaning, if not a triple meaning.” 

Hunter’s eyes remain narrowed, but he’s quiet, waiting for the whole story before he makes any decisions. He was protective of his little family before, and that’s multiplied tenfold since Cid’s betrayal cost them so much. 

“This passage here uses the word “perfect copy” to describe Omega, but there’s a lot inherently incorrect about that from a scientific perspective, and Tech clearly knows that. Perfection is, technically speaking, unachievable. There’s always something that deviates from the original, just a little, especially when discussing the complexities of genetics. I’m no geneticist, but his notes from when you first met Omega states that according to his scan (the results of which are included in the notes), she bears the female genetic marker - two X allosomes, and no Y - and has since she was created, which in and of itself means that she cannot be a perfect copy of Django who was male at birth, and bears the same male genetic markers that you lot do - an XY allosome pair. Which means, his statement here that she is a “perfect copy” is incorrect and he clearly knows that… at one point he even goes on to describe how she displays more neurotypical traits like you boys, rather than his neurodivergent ones… (whispered) paternal traits indeed, you’re definitely a clone of Django, you shouldn't worry about that Tech... He could be referring to her as a ‘perfect child’, however, again, perfection is inhuman and totally impossible when referring to something as complex as a sentient being, so that’s also unlikely unfortunately, as sweet as it would be for him to describe her like that… Earlier he mentioned that Nala Se told Tarkin that there were 5 ‘genetically deviant clones’ and that that must include Omega because Echo is genetically a ‘Reg’…” 

She turns to face Hunter directly, “Tech knew you were reading this over his shoulder and had access to it. He’s doing his best to describe Omega in a way that will only fortify your protection of her, not because that would ever waver - he describes several times how your paternal instincts are very attached to her, and he is both certain and grateful that nothing could change that - but he does it because she is very important to something, some big secret thing the Kaminoans are doing, though I don’t think he knows what exactly…” she trails off, searching through the datapad for more as she thinks. 

Hunter is shocked, first by her analysis, second by how easily she read Tech, and third by the fact that he, Hunter, is starting to agree with her analysis. “But if they’re ‘not his words’ as you said… then whose words are they?” 

She’s silent for a moment, as she considered this, still scrolling back through Tech’s copious notes. Hunter is struck for a moment how Tech always seemed to write like he was running out of time… 

“I think… I think, based on the way he explains how you lot describe Omega when she’s asleep and your paternal instincts ‘truly appear’ as he puts it, and,” she emerges from Tech’s notes for a moment, and Hunter is struck by how she’s just like Tech “and from my personal experience around you lot… I think he’s using your own words as a way to reassure you. Again, a handy psychology trick when used by a kind hand.” she nervously dives back into Tech’s notes. Hunter notes how she seems to make an effort to not annoy him again. 

She continues with her thought as her mind races on “all of the words he uses to describe Omega have positive connotations, there’s no hidden negativity, which means his intentions are good and not manipulative.” 

She looks up, but doesn’t totally dissociate from the datapad this time, her eyes still glossy wand swirling with thoughts. She opens her mouth like she’s poised to say more, but worry crosses her features “I’m sorry, I’m rambling again. I’ll stop. I do that a lot, I know.” 

She looks around concerned, by this point both Echo and Wrecker have joined the conversation, but none of them can look at her right now. 

Hunter is the first to speak “don’t worry, we’re used to it, Tech does the same thing all the time… or… used to anyways.” 

She tenses a bit “understood, I’m sorry for your loss, I still intend to help you as much as I can. Loss like that is cruel, let’s see if we can get him back, yeah?” 

“Yeah” Hunter relaxes a tiny bit, but feels the sadness of loss settling in. He doesn’t believe Tech could have survived that fall. 

She dives back into the notes. There’s a moment of silence. She continues to read quietly, giving the men a change to exchange quiet glances, feeling better now that they might have someone like Tech, something familiar, who can help them find their family. They find comfort in the quiet as she continues to ponder his scribblings with a knitted brow for a few moments. 

Hunter breaks the silence. “I feel almost ashamed that none of us figured that out. He’s our brother. I guess we didn’t know him as well as we thought we did.” 

“It’s not your fault, Hunter. Same goes for you two,” she pats Echo and Wrecker. “Pain of loss can be blinding. You do know him well, but your own emotions got in the way. It helps to have an outside voice to help you see through the haze of emotions. Nothing wrong with asking for help. I’m  here to help in any way that I can.” 

Her attention shifts again, and she emerges from the datapad completely this time. The hand that clutches it falls to her lap as her eyes find Hunter’s, and he’s not surprised to find a new thought sparkling in them. 

“You said Hemlock gave you back his goggles, did he not?” 

“Yeah” Hunter’s hesitancy returned 

“Don’t worry, I don’t want to hurt any of you lot, either. I just need more information about the incident itself” 

Hunter sighs. 

“Did his goggles still have the recording device on them?”

“How did you know about that? None of us told you about that” 

“He includes many screenshots and videos from them in his notes” 

“Right. Sorry” 

“It’s okay. Hesitancy to trust is natural after being sold out like that, I understand. But please know that I just want to help you find your brothers and sister, they seem like good people, and this Tech fellow is clearly brilliant!” 

Hunter produces the goggles, recording device still attached. 

Echo chimes in “I checked for a recording from it, but scans said there’s nothing on it” 

“No backups? You’re telling me a man like Tech didn’t have backups of everything in a secure format? Is this not his backup datapad full of his notes I’m holding? I’m guessing that somewhere on here is a backup copy he fashioned himself that the Empire wouldn't be able to tamper with, one with a hidden access port - something the Imperials wouldn't know to look for since to them devices like this are usually only remotely accessed” 

She gently detaches the recording device from the goggles and inspects it carefully. The men gather around her and watch her with baited breath. Clearly the Empire did not remove it from the goggles, as there is still a fair amount of dirt on the side that had been next to the band of the goggles. As she gently brushes the dirt off, her finger nail finds the edge of something. Tracing it out, she finds a rectangle in the rubbery casing around the recording device, and gently pops it open. 

“Bingo” she whispers, as though a loud noise will shatter the moment. 

“I think I’m starting to agree with you” Hunter whispers in her ear, quiet enough that only she can hear. 

She inspects the port the silicone hatch revealed “I don’t suppose any of you lot have seen a cable that might fit this lying around somewhere?” 

They sit quietly for a moment, well aware Tech left cables for all sorts of things scattered everywhere. Each contemplating the most likely spot for Tech to keep an important cable like this, before Echo pipes up “I’m betting he’d keep a spare in his spare kit!” 

Wrecker launches out of his makeshift seat to grab the kit, and hands it to Hunter. “You better look for it, I don’t think he’d like me rummaging through his stuff… might break something…” he trails off, clearly sad. 

She pat’s the big guy on the arm and he sits back down, a little closer this time. Seeking her warmth for comfort. 

“He clearly loved and still loves you very much Wreck, even if he has his own way of showing it” 

Wrecker smiles, “thanks Y/N” 

Hunter produces several cords from Tech’s pack and holds them out. “One of these look like it might fit?” 

“Yes!”

Echo reaches for the other end of the cable “what does the other end look like?” She let’s him inspect it while she attaches the one end to the recording device. 

“This one goes here,” he plugs it into the console they sit next to. “Let’s see what he got as…. Let’s see what trail he left for us” 

As the recording comes up on the bigger screen, they all gasp. Most of the contents of the recording are going to be a difficult mess to untangle, but one thing is clear: Tech is very much ALIVE!!!

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In my jujutsu kaisen era and i would like new mutuals on here who love jjk! Also, I want to write stories on these characters