Tbb Wrecker X Reader - Tumblr Posts

Got You Back

Click here for my masterlist.

Click here to add yourself to my taglist.

Prompt - Forehead kiss whilst cuddling

You’d known the Bad Batch long before Order 66 was executed, they joined you so much on missions that at some point they just never left and came apart of your battalion. The only time they left your side was when they were called back to Kamino or another battalion needed help with the impossible.

Over the years you had grown close with all of them, Hunter stood by your side and helped you command the 429th, the two of you had spent many sleepless nights together pouring over new intel and strategies. You and Crosshair were close though people looking in at your friendship would doubt that, even though your friendship mostly consisted of the two of you poking at each other’s buttons you were also the first to stand up for the other, always willing to take a blaster shot or punches thrown by the enemy. It had taken Tech the longest to warm up to you and you him, he hadn’t been purposefully hostile but he had never been all too good with new people or breaks to his routine and suddenly he was on a ship surrounded by regs who he had never had the best experience with anyway and you, a complete stranger. Overtime though the two of you did bond and whenever Tech wanted somebody to talk to he usually sought you out first.

As much as you loved them all it was Wrecker who had taken the place as your favourite, not that you’d ever admit it out loud. You didn’t need to honestly, it seemed everybody knew.

Wrecker was something else, at first you had been weary of him. There was no time for introductions when the batch first showed up, the battle already well underway and you and your men losing spectacularly.

One minute you had been surrounded by droids, the Force and your lightsaber both desperately trying to fight them off and the next there was a loud boom as an explosion went off and then Wrecker had easily dealt with the remaining droids on you with nothing but a loud laugh, giving you a grin before moving onto more droids.

Turns out after getting to know him that the giant of a man was really a gentle, caring one, always aware of his strength and never using it against anybody but the enemy, not even when you had heard some of the regular clones under your command giving the batch a hard time.

Once they started joining you frequently you let yourself get closer and closer to Wrecker, finding out you had more in common with him than just about anyone on the ship. You found yourself gravitating to him all the time, whether it be seeking him out before a mission when you were worried and felt the weight of the whole battalion on your shoulders or after a mission were you let him pull your aching body into a crushing hug in which you both assured yourself the other had made it through another mission safe and alive.

At some point Wrecker had managed to pull you into training with him somehow. You had finally given into his insistence that you needed to learn how to fight without your lightsaber. He wasn’t wrong, you were highly skilled with your lightsaber, easily a worthy opponent but there were times it got lost in battle and you had only yourself to rely on. So you let him teach you how to throw punches and to deflect attacks until you were an aching puddle on the floor. The only thing that made the whole thing worth it was seeing Wrecker break a sweat as he grinned at you.

You had never thought that his training would come in as helpful as it had, a year or so later you found yourself on a rare campaign without the batch’s assistance, they had been needed elsewhere to aid Master Billaba.

You had had a bad feeling about this mission since they had left but you knew the war was coming to an end, Master Kenobi was on his way to defeat Grievous as you headed to your own mission. There was nothing to be done for your nerves though and you desperately tried to push them aside without Wrecker’s steady presence assuring you everything would be just fine.

It turned out your bad feeling had been right.

You found yourself staring down the barrel of a blaster held by the Captain, the rest of your battalion following his lead and aiming their own at you. It was after a long battle, one in which you had lost your lightsaber again and you had nothing but the Force to help you.

You weren’t entirely sure how you had managed to get on a ship, the past hour nothing but a blur but what you did know was that it was Wrecker’s training that had saved you. All that time spent working together until he was satisfied you could hold your own had finally paid off and it was the only reason you were alive.

It sent an ache through you thinking about Wrecker. You wanted to comm him but you weren’t sure how widespread this thing with the Clones was, what if the batch wanted to kill you? You weren’t sure you could deal with the heartbreak of losing them.

You had decided on heading back to Coruscant when Obi-Wan’s message came through, warning you away from the Temple and Coruscant, your heart breaking as the message played on a loop until you forced yourself to turn it off with shaky hands, turning your comm off with it.

You didn’t know where to go, the war had been lost, nowhere was safe. As you sat in your ship you wracked your brain for safe places only the Jedi knew about and then remembered a place you’d heard some of the Master’s speak about.

It was sketchy but you figured if the Sith had truly taken over then they wouldn’t start with planets like this, it should have left you with plenty of time to come up with another plan before they arrived.

Finding Cid had been an unpleasant enough experience, you couldn’t figure what the Jedi were doing working with somebody like her but there wasn’t anyone left to question. When she tried to drag you into her sketchy dealings you had walked right back out of her office, you were alone in the galaxy but you weren’t that desperate for help that would probably come back to bite you one day.

You left with her threats of calling the Empire following you out the door and then paused once you were out, wondering what in the stars your plan was. Staying in Ord Mantell was probably your best option provided Cid didn’t make good on her promises. You could stay in your ship and work odd jobs to build enough credits for something more secure but until then it looked like you were stuck.

Many days passed until you stopped bothering to keep track of how long it had been since the war was lost, since you were left alone with no home to go back to and no friends, no Wrecker. You hadn’t turned your comm on since that day, there was no point, everyone you knew was either dead or wanted you dead.

“Hey you!” Cid called as they turned to leave her office with a mission, not sure how willing they were to trust her but needing the credits. “You mentioned the Jedi.”

“Um yes I did, what of it?” Echo asked as they turned back around to face her.

“There was a girl poking round here not too long ago, said she was a Jedi but she didn’t stay long, not willing to make a friend outta me. You reckon you know her?” The batch all turned to each other, Hunter hated the hopeful look that spread across Wrecker’s face.

It had been a while since that day and when you hadn’t answered any of their comm calls Hunter knew what had happened to you. Wrecker had been devastated, not only did they have the guilt of leaving Crosshair behind but Wrecker was heartbroken over your loss, not that Wrecker ever accepted what had happened, he still sat at the comm every day and called you, refusing to give up hope that you were alive. Hunter heard him crying softly into Lula most days, Omega having pressed the doll into the giant’s chest when Tech brought your name up and he got teary eyes.

He still wasn’t dealing with it well, Hunter heard him crying more nights than not, dark circles under his eyes showing that he hadn’t been sleeping well without you. Hunter didn’t know what to do, he hated seeing Wrecker so distraught, if he could have taken his pain on he’d have done it in a heartbeat.

Omega had been an angel, Wrecker loved the kid straight away and she might have been the only thing keeping him together. Wrecker had told her so many stories about you, Omega always content in his lap, eager to hear of your grand adventures together and nobody said anything about the tears that slid down Wrecker’s cheeks.

Seeing him now made Hunter’s fist clench, Cid hadn’t known what she was doing brining the Jedi up but seeing the bright hopeful look on his brother’s face made him want to punch something knowing full well it was going to hurt just as badly as it had the first time when it turned out it wasn’t you.

Wrecker let himself get his hopes up though, he’d always known you couldn't be dead. Even if something had happened and you’d been without your lightsaber he knew he had taught you enough to survive without it. He tried to justify the unanswered comm calls by telling himself your comm had probably just gotten broken during the battle and you hadn’t been able to get to a new one yet.  

He didn’t miss the sympathetic looks he got from his brothers and Omega but he ignored them, unwilling and unable to give up one you. You would find your way back to each other, you always did.

“What’d she say her name was?” Wrecker asked eagerly, stepping towards Cid with a growing smile.

“She didn’t say her name, refused to say much of anything once I asked her to go on a run for me.” Cid said and they watched Wrecker’s shoulder slump down. “But I do know she never left the planet, matter of fact as a show of my goodwill I’ll tell you where she’s staying.”

“Yeah, tell us!” Wrecker pleaded, perking right back up.

“Alright, alright! She’s staying in her ship, down in hangar bay 18.” Cid told them and Wrecker was already out the door as Cid called after him. “Don’t say I don’t do nothing for you boys!”

Hunter and Echo shot each other sad smiles, knowing full well how this was going to end. They stood still for a moment, Tech sighing softly as the three of them watched Wrecker practically run out of Cid’s with Omega following closely behind.

“It could be her right?” Echo asked though the tone of his voice didn’t have much belief in his words.

“Unfortunately, the chances of this so-called Jedi being Y/N are highly improbable to impossible.”  Tech told them, his voice quiet as he adjusted his goggles.

“Come on, let’s check it out anyway.” Hunter said and gestured for them to follow the other two, already dreading the heartbreak Wrecker would experience all over again.

Wrecker arrived at the hangar bay moments before the rest of the batch caught up to him, pausing outside of bay 18 as he took a deep breath.

“Wrecker, I know you want it to be her, we all do but you have to prepare yourself for it being somebody else.” Echo told him gently, placing a hand on Wrecker’s bicep.

Wrecker turned to him with a shaky smile and nodded but he refused to let himself think it could be anyone else. It was going to be you, it had to be you.

“You ready Wrecker?” Omega asked with a smile, looking up at him.

Wrecker took one more deep breath and nodded again, smiling as Omega slipped her small hand into his and gave it a squeeze.

He led the way into the hangar bay and his breath caught in his throat as he recognised the ship the Republic had used. Everyone else took note too and felt their heart break a little more knowing it was only getting Wrecker’s hopes up.

Wrecker was the one to knock on the ship’s door and everybody waited anxiously for the door to open.

You had been on Ord Mantell for far too long, this place was everything you hated but you had no choice but to stay. It wasn’t swarming with troopers and that was the best you could do right now. You worked odd jobs and built up some credits, saving them for when it was time to flee, needing to be ready to do so at a moment's notice.

You had finally gotten back to your ship after a long day of manual labour but it was worth it for the credits that had been handed over to you at the end of it. You took a small ration bar out of the storage box and sat down heavily in your seat.

As you ate the small bar you couldn’t stop your thoughts wandering back to the same place they always did…Wrecker. Stars you missed him. Every day your heart ached at being away from him, at how you would never see him again, at how he was now nothing but a mindless droid following orders, it ached at knowing that you would never get the chance to tell him that he had been the one to save you, that you would never get to tell him you loved him.

You had known for a long time that you loved Wrecker but your loyalty to the Jedi Code had stopped you from ever telling him. That and the fact you were scared, you’d never been in love before and you weren’t certain that Wrecker would feel the same about you so it was easier to hide behind the Code and keep your feelings to yourself.

You regretted that now, hated the fact that you hadn’t been brave enough to tell him. You knew the chance to do so would never come around, not now that he was the Empire’s good soldier.

You’d have left the Order if Wrecker had asked you too, joined him and his brothers in the Marauder and fought alongside them. He had never asked though and you had had to be content with them joining you on your cruiser and staying for as long as they could.

Your thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a banging on the ship’s door and you startled in your seat, reaching over to grab a blaster in place of the lightsaber you had never managed to recover.

You stood up and headed over to the door, finger hovering over the button to open it. If it was the Empire they surely wouldn’t bother with niceties, preferring to force their way onto your ship instead. There was nobody else it could be though, the only person who knew you were staying on your ship was Cid and you weren’t exactly expecting her to stop by for a cup of caf any time soon.

You hesitated for another moment before raising your blaster and pressing the button.

There were several gasps as the door finally opened and you didn’t have a chance to take in your guests because suddenly you were being dragged into a bone crushing hug, one that had you tensing before your mind caught up and you recognised the arms holding you close.

“Wrecker?” You choked out, tears springing to your eyes as you pushed him away to make sure it was really him, blaster falling to the ground. “Stars, it’s really you.”

Wrecker was a mess, tears fell rapidly down his face as he pulled you back into his arms, feeling your fingers clawing into him as you gripped him tight. He had to watch himself, knowing he could crush you but he couldn’t loosen his grip if he tried, not when it felt like if he did you would disappear before him.

“I knew you were alive.” Wrecker mumbled into your hair, leaning down to rest his head against you as you sobbed into him. “Knew you’d be alright.”

“I thought you were gone!” You cried, pulling back only far enough to look up at him, shaky hands cupping his cheeks as you took him in.

“M’alright, ya don’t have to worry ‘bout me, I’m right here. Just glad I found you.” Wrecker told you, his voice softer than you had ever heard as he leaned down and pressed his forehead to yours.

The two of you stayed like that for a while longer before you both managed to pry yourselves away, though you didn’t go too far from each other. It was then you saw the others standing behind them, their own eyes shiny and cheeks stained with tear marks.

“Echo, Tech, Hunter! It’s so good to see you!” You exclaimed, meeting them halfway and letting Echo pull you into his own hug, him holding you close for a few moments before letting you go, squeezing your arm as he did.

“Good to have you back, Y/N/N.” Echo smiled, his voice shaky and you couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound more like a sob as you nodded.

Tech was next, he wasn’t the greatest with physical affection but he still let you pull him into a soft hug and let himself rest his head against yours and he took a shaky breath, hardly able to believe you were alive and well.

Hunter was waiting for you with open arms and you practically fell into them, letting him wrap you up, tucking your head into his chest as a few more tears escaped you.

“I’m sorry we didn’t find you earlier.” Hunter apologised into your hair and you shook your head, brushing the apology off easily, you couldn’t blame them, you would never think to blame them. Considering the circumstances it was a safe assumption for them to believe you had died at the hands of your battalion, just as it was a safe bet for you to think they had become the Empire’s new soldiers.

You could help but notice that Crosshair was missing from the group, blood going cold when you realised they would never willingly leave one of their own behind, not unless they had no choice in the matter and you guessed that whatever had happened to your battalion had happened to at least one of the batch.

You didn't mention the loss of the sniper, instead when you pulled away from Hunter you gravitated back to Wrecker who was waiting just a step or two behind you, his arm winding around your waist and pulling you even closer.

“What happened to you?” Echo asked and you took a shaky breath, feeling Wrecker’s thumb softly brushing against your hip and you let yourself relax into the touch, a touch you never thought you’d get to feel again.

“How about we go to the Marauder?” You suggested, glancing towards your ship and back to the group. “I don’t think there’s enough space on there for all of us.”

The walk back to the Marauder was silent, the young girl you had noticed but had not been introduced to made her way over to Hunter and took his hand in hers, Hunter smiling down at her before continuing on. You couldn’t help but smile at them as you walked alongside Wrecker, his arm still around you as he kept you close.

Once you were all in the Marauder, everyone in their usual seats with Wrecker pulling you onto his lap, his head on your shoulder and arms still wrapped around your waist, everybody turned to you.

“After the battle on Zaphus the clones turned on me, I didn’t have my lightsaber but,” you paused, hands resting on Wrecker’s forearms as you turned to look at him thankfully, “I managed to escape with your training, guess you were right it did come in handy.”

“Told you it would.” Wrecker said but there was no teasing tone to his voice, no smug I told you so grin on his face, the words were soft and sad in a way you hated hearing from Wrecker.

“I got to the ship and after I heard Obi-Wan’s message to all remaining Jedi I shut my comm off.” Before you could continue Tech cut you off.

“Why would you turn your comm off? We have tried to get in contact with you every day since the end of the Republic.” Tech told you and you felt your heart ache and swell at the same time, all this time you had thought they had wanted you dead when really they had spent every day trying to find you.

“I thought whatever happened to my battalion had happened to you, once I got to Ord Mantell I realised that all the clones had turned, I figured that meant you too.” You told them, feeling your eyes well up but refused to let the tears fall as you leaned further into Wrecker’s chest.

“Y/N, we thought you were dead, stars if we’d known we’d have done everything to find you.” Echo said and you smiled over at him.

Out of all the batch you had known Echo longest. You and General Skywalker had always gotten along well and had aided each other plenty of times throughout the Clone Wars. Echo and Fives had made quick work befriending you and you had become closer with each mission you worked together.  

Echo had always been kind to you, always ready to help in any way he could whether it be through bringing you a hot mug of caf when the sleepless nights piled on top of each other or shooting down clankers before they could get a hit on you.

When the batch had come to assist you and had brought Echo along with them you couldn’t stop the tears that filled your eyes as you took in the pale skin and robotics attached to him but ultimately none of that mattered compared to the fact that Echo was alive and safe with your batch and you hadn’t been able to resist pulling his skinny frame into a tight hug.

“I know, me too.” You murmured, feeling Wrecker’s arms tighten around you before he relaxed again, assuring himself you were here and with him.

That night, long after more talking and a few shared tears, you headed down to the bunk rooms. Climbing into bed with Wrecker again after so long apart made your eyes sting but you refused to cry again tonight.

Wrecker’s arms wrapped around you, encompassing your frame as he dragged you as close to him as you could get, not a single inch of space between you, not that you were complaining, if anything your tried to burrow yourself deeper into his chest, fingers clinging to his blacks as you let yourself relax for the first time in a long time.

After everything that had happened you had truly thought you were alone in the galaxy but having Wrecker here, his body comforting and steady as his fingers traced random shapes on your back, you knew you still had a home.

“Missed you every day, mesh’la.” Wrecker murmured, his lips moving against your hair. “Knew you couldn’t be dead, never gave up on ya, baby.”

“I’m sorry for turning my comm off, I wish I-”

“No,” Wrecker cut you off, pressing a kiss to your head. “S’like Tech said it was smart, we could’a tried to trick ya. Doesn’t matter now anyway, we got you back, I got you back.”

You smiled shakily into Wrecker’s chest and nodded along with his words. He was right, nothing could be changed, no amount of pleading with the Force could undo time, all you had was now and you weren’t going to waste a single moment, not when you never thought you’d have this again.

“I love you Wrecker.” You whispered into his chest, glancing up to see him smiling widely down at you.

“I love ya too, baby.” He told you before placing a kiss to your forehead, pulling you into him.

You let your eyes fall closed as you took steady breaths, feeling like you could breathe properly again with Wrecker’s heartbeat against your ear.

It wasn’t long before you drifted off, Wrecker’s arms a heavy and grounding assurance that this was real, that not everything had been snatched from you in the blink of an eye, that the Force wasn’t cruel enough to leave you alone in the galaxy. Every night since that day you had yearned for Wrecker and now you got to fall asleep in his arms again, content and safe for the first time in what felt like forever.

Wrecker Taglist (New character, click the link in my bio to add yourself!)

Thank you for reading!💙

This is ART people appreciate it!

Also Wrecker baby I miss you😭🤧💖

𝐑𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐓𝐨 𝐌𝐞

Summary: You don't want Wrecker to leave for the day.

Genre: x reader fluff

Tags: gn!reader, tooth-rotting fluff, kissing, ficlet, no use of y/n

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: N/A (please let me know if I missed any!)

A/N: Translations for Mando'a are at the end! (please forgive if they are not accurate- I did my best...)

Other: dividers by @moosgraphics & @bunnysrph (tysm!)

Soft morning sunlight gently pulls you from the unconscious oblivion of sleep, tugging at your eyelids to open. You refuse the warm, beckoning call. Opening your eyes means returning to reality— to ripping apart a wonderful thing.

‘Wrecker.’ 

Your first thought of the day. Still weighted with slumber, your arm stretches its heavy way, reaching toward the other side of the bed. It finds its warm, solid mark. Eyes still shut against the world, you relax your arm, draping it across his massive frame and pulling yourself closer into him. You nuzzle against his back, trying to fall back into sleep. The sun’s warmth is nothing compared to his strong, muscled shoulders. His masculine musk is so sweet, his body so comforting. You want to continue to lay with him like this for hours on end, simply existing together in the world of the half-asleep.

After a moment of pure morning bliss, Wrecker sighs lightly, twisting between the sheets to face you. He is blocking the sun from your eyes with his wide build. “Mesh’la,” he whispers, breath gently brushing against your cheeks and scooping your hand in his.

“Mm?” You reply, barely audible.

“It’s mornin’,” he says quietly, his deep voice dripping with dreams from the night before. 

You finally open your eyes in the shade he’s  providing. Wrecker’s face is but inches from yours, his tender brown eyes are looking at you with all the gentle love and admiration the galaxy has to offer.

“Already?” You ask, pouting.

“Already,” he confirms, bringing his palm up from under the blankets to cup the side of your face. His large thumb sweeps softly against your cheek. “Rise ’n’ shine, cyar’ika.”

“You can’t stay just this once?” You ask, already knowing the answer.

 Wrecker leans to close the gap between you, slightly tilting your head down, and plants a gentle kiss on your forehead. “You know I can’t,” he says against your forehead. 

He gives you another kiss, lingering a second longer. His fingers and lips leave an aching want beneath them. He pulls away and lets his hand go back up to your face. You look at him pleadingly, your hands finding their way to rest on his scarred, firm chest. Wrecker was never one to refuse your silent asks of affection. He leans forward and turns his head to slot his lips perfectly into yours. You close your eyes and let him take the lead. He may be a giant in stature, but he is always gentle with you. You close your eyes and feel his arms pull you closer to him. You want to wrap your arms and legs around him to keep him here, with you, but you are nowhere close to being able to hold him down. He barely gives you a moment to revel in his kisses before he pulls away and flings the covers off his body, exposing you to the sudden chill. You groan and lean back into the pillows, telling yourself it really is time to get ready for the day. You know he gets so much joy out of his work, but sometimes you wish he would just lay with you for a whole morning. The rest of the Batchers are fully capable of completing a mission without him.

Wrecker is already standing at the open, metal closet, pulling out his standardized blacks that all clones wear under their armor. You watch as he steps into the stretchy material. His muscles flex, tight, against his skin as he yanks them up his body. You can’t help but admire his physique. The sun is reflecting perfectly off his tan skin. He catches your gaze in the mirror and smiles confidently.

“What are you lookin’ at?”

“Just you, darling,” you reply.

“Are you ever gonna crawl out of that bed of ours?”

“I was thinking about it,” you say, stretching your arms into the air, desperately reaching for the motivation to get up. “But the view from here is just too good to give up yet.”

Somehow, his smile widens even further at your flirty words. Was that a hint of blush growing across his cheeks? You prop yourself up against your arm, chin resting in your hand, elbow pressing into the mattress, to watch as Wrecker finishes assembling his uniform. As he makes the final adjustments to his shin guards, you sweep your legs over the side of the bed and pad over to him. He pulls you into him, wrapping his strong arms around the small of your back. You give a small yelp as he raises you up to be face to face. Wrecker’s hugs give you the ultimate sense of comfort and stability. Even separated by the plastoid armor, he somehow manages to warm you right up.

“Good morning, cyar’ika,” he says, beaming.

“Good morning, my love.”

Wrecker presses his lips against yours and you melt into him. You are both so in tune with each other that this romantic dance needs no practiced choreography. It is as natural and as easy as breathing. Careful so as not to break the connection of bliss, Wrecker gently places you back on the floor, keeping his arms wrapped around your back. You feel him start to pull away so you bring both hands up to his face, not wanting him to leave just yet. He obliges and kisses you deeper. You know this is his goodbye for the day. You finally release him from the soft hold, knowing it’s harder on him when he leaves for the day. Wrecker breathes you in and rests his forehead against yours. Wrecker gives you one last, quick kiss before finally letting go and walks out of the bedroom to finish getting ready. 

You pull on a fresh set of clothes and move out to the common area, waiting for him on the sofa. This was the hardest part of the day, watching him leave your shared dwelling to take on whatever mission Hunter has in store for the Batchers, but it makes him so happy and you would never ask him to resign his duties only for you. You want him to feel fulfilled in every aspect of life, but you would be lying to him and yourself if your heart didn’t break every time he walks out the door. 

You hear the water shut off and you sink deeper into the cushions. He finds you curled up and offers his hand to you to pull you back to your feet for the last goodbye.

“Are you absolutely, positively sure you have to go today?” You ask as you stand. 

“Sorry, mesh’la,” he says, giving you a pitiful look. “Plus, Tech and Echo have been working on this new bomb, and I can’t wait to try it out.”

“You’ll have to let me know how it goes, my love.”

Wrecker, suddenly overcome with affection for you, envelops you in another hug, tighter than before. He wants to make sure it stays with you all day.

“Mesh’la,” he whispers into your ear. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Wrecker. Cuyir morut'yc ner kar’ta.”

“Always am.” He smiles lovingly, impressed by your Mando’a. “I’ll be back before you even know I’m gone, cyar’ika.”

You slump back into the sofa, watching as Wrecker heads to the door. He gives you one last longing look before walking out the door. The love of your life is gone, and you are alone. But one thing will always remain true. Wrecker will always return home to you.

Cuyir morut'yc ner kar’ta: be safe, my heart

Taglist: @rinksu-no-joo @hersforthebreaking @baddest-batchers

cool cool cool, I'm feeling very very chill about this, very relaxed, I'm definitely not about to cry for the next week straight or anything, nope, nothing like that

but fr I'm ruined goddammit 😭😭 Wrecker being so insistent that he's a monster like my heart can't take it actually, I'm going to cry now and that is a threat

Few Fates Worse Than Death

Pairing: Wrecker x fem!Reader / Wrecker x Jedi!Reader

Words: 13,780

Tags/Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, platonic Rex x Reader, kissing, found family stuff so that makes it better right?

Summary: You refused to believe that Wrecker would ever hurt you, but on Bracca, his nightmare finally comes true.

A/N: I've written angst to some degree for every member of the squad except for Wrecker, so I decided to change that. This is the first and probably only time I pull quotes/scenes directly from the show for a one-shot.

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

The moment Rex told you about the inhibitor chips, everything fell into place. A cold, icy dread filled you, even as the others insisted that the chips held no power over them. Everything that had happened since Kaller, since Crosshair and Master Billaba's men tried to kill you... you saw it all through a new lens, and the galaxy spun dizzyingly before you.

Like the others, you’d barely paid attention to Omega’s explanation of the chip. The idea that the Kaminoans put some sort of mind-altering device inside every clone was beyond the pale, so absurd that, even if it was true, you never thought to give it much attention. And Tech was so confident that his own research proved the chips had no such abilities. It was easier to trust Tech, who had always been honest and open with you, than to question your own instincts.

But Rex was different.

The others protested, but Rex had seen something, experienced it himself, and he wasn't willing to risk any of his brothers falling prey to it again. You can hear his fear in his voice, feel it radiating from him. His insistence that the chips be removed, one way or another, was unshakeable.

Rex looks over at you, as if expecting you to back him, but you can only look away.

You feel like you can't breathe, can't think. You take a step back and settle down on one of the barstools, your hand gripping the edge so tightly your knuckles are white. Your stomach churns with dread. What do you do? What can you do?

You’d felt it, the moment Jedi across the galaxy were cut down, like a thousand tiny shards of glass stabbing into your mind. The pain had been nearly blinding, and it had taken every bit of concentration you had to keep from screaming. But you hadn’t seen the images. Hadn’t witnessed the slaughter. That had been a mercy. You hadn't been there, hadn't seen them fall, but you still feel the echoes of their deaths in the Force, a dull, aching pain that never goes away.

The thought of what Rex had seen, what the other clones had experienced, sickens you. Being forced to witness the death of someone you care about is awful enough, but to see your own hand, your own blaster, murder the very people you are sworn to protect? You shudder, the horror of it too overwhelming to contemplate.

The others are talking now, and the argument is escalating. You watch them in a daze, barely able to focus. Your thoughts are running away with you, and you have to fight back against the urge to panic.

The clones were made to be obedient, but not this obedient. There was no way the Kaminoans, or the Jedi, or anyone would have created them with the ability to commit mass genocide at the push of a button. It couldn’t be real. It couldn't.

Could it?

"The chips make you a threat to everyone around you," Rex says, and it's like being doused in cold water. You stare up at him, wide-eyed, unable to speak.

Rex's jaw tightens. "You're all ticking time bombs." 

And you realize then that he's right. Even if the inhibitor chips really do hold no influence over the clones, you can't ignore the potential threat they pose. Not after what happened on Kaller, the horror of it still fresh in your mind. You hadn’t been there after, but you’d heard what happened. If Crosshair had really wanted to kill those refugees, if his chip had made him turn on his brothers... how could the others be so sure their own wouldn’t do the same?

They're all still arguing with Rex, telling him he's wrong, but they don't understand. None of them understand.

Rex turns to you, and when he sees your face, he falters. He knows. He has to know what's running through your head, because he takes a step forward, and you hold up your hand.

"Don't—"

"She's not safe with you," Rex says, gesturing to you. His face is stony, his expression hard. "Any of you. How can you protect her from yourselves?"

Wrecker's eyes dart between you and Rex, and when his gaze settles on you, his brows knit together in a worried frown. He looks distraught, and you wish there was something you could say, something you could do to ease his fears, but you can't get your tongue to work. 

"What are you talking about?" he demands. "We'd never hurt her."

"No, you don't understand. It's not—" Rex pauses, and his expression goes from pained to resigned. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head, his shoulders drooping. "What's in your head is more dangerous than you can imagine. I've seen what happens when the chip activates, and I don't want to bury any more of our brothers."

Rex meets each of the Batch's gazes in turn, then his eyes settle on you, and you know that you won't like whatever he has to say next.

"You can't keep her. She's not safe with any of you," he says quietly.

He's not saying anything you haven't thought before, but the way he phrases it sends a sharp stab of hurt through you, and the ache is only exacerbated when he continues.

"I can protect her."

"We can protect her!" Wrecker snaps, taking a step toward Rex. He glares down at the captain, looming over him, and for a moment, you're reminded of just how much larger Wrecker is than him. But Rex doesn't back down, doesn't flinch. Wrecker glances back toward you and Tech, a desperate look in his eye, and his voice goes soft. "Right?"

You open your mouth, but no sound comes out. Tech doesn't speak either. He just stares at Rex, a deep furrow in his brow.

"She'll be safer with us," Hunter argues. His voice is firm, but you can tell from the way he avoids meeting Rex's gaze that he's not nearly as certain as he seems.

"It's not the same," Rex says, and he's clearly struggling to hold onto his patience. "Trust me. It is not something you can control. I couldn't. It's a risk you do not want to take."

You've heard enough. Your throat is tight and your stomach is roiling, but you can't let them continue like this. You swallow back the bile and rise unsteadily to your feet.

"Enough," you say, your voice thin.

The others turn to you, and when Wrecker looks down at you, his expression is heartbreaking. You take a deep, steadying breath, then glance up at him.

"It's okay," you whisper, and force a small, reassuring smile. "Everything will be okay."

Your words don't have the desired effect. Wrecker's brow furrows and he takes a half-step toward you, reaching out his hand. He hesitates, and you close the distance between you, reaching up to take his hand in yours. His hand engulfs yours, and his fingers close around your hand gently, like he's afraid he might hurt you. His grip is warm and reassuring, and for a moment, everything is okay.

But it doesn't last.

“General, please." Rex's voice is soft, imploring, and when you meet his gaze, there's a pleading look in his eyes. "You know I'm right.”

“I’m not a general anymore, Rex," you say, shaking your head. "And I’m not a Jedi."

He opens his mouth to protest, but you cut him off.

"You can't ask this of me," you say, and a shiver runs through you. You wrap your free arm around yourself, wishing desperately for the security and comfort of the cloak you left behind. "Please. Don't."

Rex closes his eyes, and for a moment, the two of you are silent.

"Alright."

The others look relieved. Wrecker's face scrunches up and you think he's going to cry, but he's also smiling, and he wraps his arms around you and picks you up off the floor. He buries his face against your shoulder, and you wrap your arms around his neck, squeezing as tightly as you can.

"We'll figure this out," you say, and pray the others don't notice the way your voice wavers. "It'll be okay."

Wrecker nods, but his voice is thick when he replies. "I don't want you to go."

"I'm not going anywhere," you promise. "I'm not leaving."

But Rex's words are stuck in your head, echoing relentlessly. It's a risk you do not want to take.

Wrecker sets you down, and when he steps back, there's a wet sheen in his eyes. He rubs at his face and laughs nervously. You reach out and take his hand, squeezing it lightly, and offer him a smile. It feels forced and unnatural, and Wrecker must notice, because his expression falls, and he looks almost guilty. He drops his gaze and takes a deep, shuddering breath.

You look past him to the others. Tech is standing by the door, his arms folded tightly across his chest. You can see his hands are clenched, the muscles in his arms tense. His eyes are fixed on the floor, and when he senses your attention, he lifts his gaze and meets your eyes. His brow is furrowed, and you know he wants to say something. You can see the words forming in his mind, but whatever he's thinking, he keeps it to himself. He holds your gaze for a moment longer, then looks away.

Hunter and Echo are standing together, watching you. When you meet Hunter's eye, he gives you a curt nod.

"It'll be alright," he says, and his tone is oddly final. He turns back to Rex. "How do you suggest we get them out?"

"Good question," Rex replies, and his gaze falls on you again. He frowns and tilts his head. "You're sure you don't want to leave?"

"Yes," you reply, but your voice sounds thin, even to you. You clear your throat and repeat the word more firmly, and the others all look at you. "Yes. I'm sure."

Rex hesitates. For a long moment, he just looks at you, as if searching for some sign that you've changed your mind. Then he sighs and nods, his expression grim.

"Alright. I'll be in touch."

He leaves without another word. The moment he disappears up the stairwell, Wrecker tugs you against him, wrapping his arms around you and crushing you against his chest. You squeeze him back, closing your eyes and resting your forehead against his chest. Your heart is pounding so hard that you can feel it in your temples, and your head is throbbing.

"It'll be okay," you repeat, trying to sound reassuring, but there's an uncertainty in your heart that you can't ignore. You're not sure who you're trying to convince, yourself or Wrecker, but you both need to hear the words.

You're not sure what comes next. You've only just got back to the Batch, and now this...

It feels like you're standing on a precipice.

You're not sure which way the wind will blow.

Wrecker's headaches are getting worse, and they come more frequently.

He can barely sleep, and his temper is short. More than once, he's lashed out at the others, and you can tell that it's eating him up inside. He's ashamed and frustrated, and all the more upset because there's nothing he can do. When he does manage to rest, it's fitful. You're not sure how long it's been since he slept properly, and it worries you.

Your own rest is fitful as well.

Ever since Rex's revelation, there's been a tension between you all that was never there before. It's like you're all just waiting for something bad to happen, and every day that passes is just more time spent in anticipation of a nightmare you can't stop.

It's hard to shake, and sometimes, it's all you can do not to cry. You miss the Jedi, the people you thought of as family, and the knowledge that the clones were responsible for their deaths is like a knife through your heart. It was easier when you didn't know the truth, when the deaths felt more distant. Now, every time you think about the Jedi, you can't help wondering how they felt in those final moments. If they knew.

The pain in the Force is still there, but it's different. A constant ache, a reminder of all the lives lost. Sometimes, it's too much, and the grief overwhelms you.

The worst part is knowing that the others are keeping their distance.

It's subtle. Just little things, but you can tell.

You and Omega are still spending most of your downtime together, but when you go to spend time with the others, it doesn't last as long. You've barely seen Echo and Tech, and Hunter is avoiding you like the plague.

And Wrecker.

Wrecker is pulling away, and he's doing it so slowly that you didn't notice at first. At least, not until you woke up one morning to find the bed empty. He hasn't slept beside you since that night with Rex, and he's not spending much time with you outside of missions. And the longer this goes on, the harder it is to break the ice.

When you do manage to talk to him, you try to offer support. You want to reassure him, to comfort him, but the pain in his head makes him recalcitrant. It's like he doesn't want you to know the truth of what's bothering him, and the more you press, the more agitated he gets.

One night, you try to help him with his headache. He's sitting on his bunk, leaning over and clutching his head, and you can't stand by and watch him suffer any longer.

You sit beside him and rest a hand on his back. His skin is slick with sweat, and his muscles are tense, his entire body shaking with pain.

"Can I help?" you ask, keeping your voice soft. "Will it help if I massage your temples?"

Wrecker's answer is a muffled groan, and it's impossible to tell whether it's a yes or a no, so you tentatively begin to rub your fingers in slow circles. You start at his temples and work outward, hoping that some of the tension will release.

You keep rubbing for a while, and it seems to help, a little. When his head finally slumps forward, you pause.

"How's that?" you ask softly.

"S'good," Wrecker grumbles, but the tone of his voice makes it clear that he's anything but pleased. "Thanks."

He doesn't move, doesn't relax. You're not sure what else to do, but you don't want to leave him like this. It feels wrong.

"Is there anything else I can do?" you ask, and you try to keep your voice gentle.

Wrecker shakes his head. "I'm fine."

“You’re not.” Your words are quiet, but they feel like a shout. Wrecker freezes, and for a long moment, neither of you speaks. You sigh and move so that you're kneeling in front of him, and you place your hands on his knees. "Please, talk to me."

He doesn't answer. He doesn't move, his head bowed.

"Why are you shutting me out?" you whisper.

"I'm not," Wrecker mumbles. His hands come up to cover his head, and you have the feeling that the action has less to do with his headache and more to do with his reluctance to meet your gaze. "I'm just..."

His words trail off, and a tense silence falls between you.

"What's wrong?" you ask, and now your voice is wavering. The tears you've been fighting for days are threatening to spill over, but you hold them back. You take a deep, shuddering breath and lean in closer. "Wrecker. Please."

"It's nothing," Wrecker mutters, and his shoulders hunch. He doesn't look at you, and his hands clench into fists.

"It's not nothing."

You hesitate, then gently rest your hand on his cheek. He flinches, and for a moment, your stomach tightens with fear. But then his eyes flick up to yours, and when he sees your face, a pained look crosses his features. His eyes soften, and a single tear rolls down his cheek.

"You're not sleeping. I can tell."

"Neither are you," he grunts, and he tries to pull away.

"I'm worried about you," you whisper. You reach out and touch his hand. "Talk to me."

Wrecker looks away. He wipes the tear from his cheek and clears his throat. "Don't be."

"I can't help it." You reach out and touch his hand, and when he flinches, it's like being stabbed through the heart. You draw back and look away. "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to pressure you."

"I know."

"Just... if you need anything. I'm here."

"I know," he whispers. He looks down at his hands, and the tears are back. He wipes them away, but not before they start rolling down his cheeks. He shakes his head. "I'm a fuckin' mess."

"It's okay."

“It’s not okay,” he snaps. He glares up at you, his brow furrowing, and the pain in his expression is so raw that it takes your breath away. His voice is thick with tears. "I don't wanna hurt you."

"You won't," you insist, but your stomach twists and knots at his words. "I trust you."

"You shouldn't."

"Wrecker—"

"What if Rex was right?" Wrecker asks, and his words cut straight through your heart. "What if he's right? What if—what if something happens, and I..."

His voice trails off, and when he looks at you, his eyes are wet. He blinks and swallows, and when he continues, his voice is strained.

"What if the chip took control, and I hurt you? Or Omega? I couldn't..." He chokes and shakes his head, looking away. "I couldn't live with myself."

"Nothing is going to happen," you insist, and when Wrecker doesn't answer, your heart sinks. You climb up onto the bed and wrap your arms around him, pulling him against you. He rests his forehead against yours, and the tears are streaming freely down his cheeks. You kiss his cheek and reach up to brush away the tears, but there are too many. You wipe away a few, but the others just keep coming, and Wrecker lets out a soft, miserable noise. "Oh, Wrecker."

He doesn't answer. He turns his face into the crook of your neck and wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, and buries his face against you.

"I can't lose you," he whispers, his voice thick. "Not again."

"You won't," you murmur. "I promise. You won't lose me."

You can't be sure that's true, but you don't know what else to say. Wrecker holds you tightly, and you wrap your arms around him and kiss the side of his neck, and then his cheek, his shoulder, his chest, his lips. You want him to know how much you care, how much you need him. How much you love him.

"I'm not going anywhere," you say as your own tears spill over. You squeeze him tight and bury your face against his neck. "You won't lose me."

"If anything happened to you..." Wrecker shudders, and his grip on you tightens. "I couldn't handle it. If something happened, I couldn't—"

He stops and takes a deep, shuddering breath. He presses his face into your hair and squeezes you tightly. His voice is small, almost lost in the darkness.

"I love you."

You freeze. For a moment, your heart stutters, and you feel like your lungs have stopped working. He's never said it before. Not in words, anyway. You’ve known it for a long time, but to hear him say it, even in a moment like this, is something else entirely. It makes you ache.

"I love you," Wrecker repeats, and then his face scrunches up and his words spill out in a rush. "I've loved you for so long. I love everything about you. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, and the thought of hurting you, or losing you, is too much. I can't. I won't."

"Wrecker." You pull back and take his face in your hands. "Look at me."

"I should have told you earlier," Wrecker mumbles. His words are so slurred together that they're almost unintelligible. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Your eyes are filled with tears, and it's hard to see, but you know you need to get close to him, to offer him the same reassurance he's given you countless times. So you slide onto his lap, wrapping your arms around him, and rest your forehead against his.

"I'm not. There was never a good time, not really. But now, right now, I'm glad I heard it." You cup his cheek and brush the tears away. "And I'm glad I can tell you now. Because I love you too. So much. And I need you to know that. I'm not going anywhere. Not ever."

You press your lips to his, and he responds instantly, returning the kiss with a hunger that catches you off guard. It's intense and overwhelming, and he pulls you tighter against him, like he's trying to merge the two of you together. His hand slips beneath your shirt, his fingers splayed across your lower back, and he groans into the kiss. It's the most intense and passionate kiss the two of you have ever shared, and it leaves you gasping for breath.

"I love you," you repeat, and when he looks at you, his eyes are bright. He leans in and kisses your forehead, then rests his forehead against yours and closes his eyes.

"I won't let anything happen to you," he whispers. "No matter what. I promise."

"I know." You press a soft kiss to his jaw, then rest your head on his shoulder. "And I won't let anything happen to you. We're in this together. I'm here, no matter what."

Wrecker doesn't reply. He just nods and wraps his arms around you, leaning back until the two of you are lying down. He pulls you on top of him, and when you shift, the movement is enough to send a shiver through him.

He presses his face into your hair and holds you close, and for a long time, the two of you stay like that, holding each other. It's a little awkward, with your legs tangled together and the bunk too small for the two of you, but it feels right. It feels good. Safe.

 "I love you,” you whisper again, and Wrecker's arms tighten around you. He kisses the side of your neck, and his breath tickles the hairs on the back of your neck. You snuggle deeper into his embrace and close your eyes.

"Love you," Wrecker mumbles. 

The way he says it is so soft, so full of adoration, that your heart breaks a little. You love him. You love him so much. You never thought you'd get to say the words, never thought it would be possible, but now that it's out there, the words come so easily, like they've always been waiting to come out. And the relief of hearing him say them back is almost dizzying.

You stay there, wrapped up in each other's arms, and you listen to the sound of Wrecker's breathing. He falls asleep eventually, and his grip loosens, but he doesn't let go. When you're sure he's sleeping, you shift, resting your head against his chest and listening to the steady beat of his heart.

You close your eyes, and for the first time in a while, you feel safe.

For the first time in a while, sleep comes easily.

As soon as you arrived on Bracca, things took a turn for the worse. You'd all managed to dodge the Scrapper's Guild, but traversing the wreckage of the fallen Venator was a trial in and of itself. There was debris everywhere, and you could hardly breathe in the thick, oppressive air. Every step felt like it could be your last, and you and Hunter couldn't stop sensing something in the murky water below. Something lurking, waiting. And when Wrecker fell in...

He'd nearly drowned. He'd nearly been devoured by that dianoga. You'd thought you'd lost him.

You can't think about it.

He's safe now, and that's all that matters. He's safe, and you can finally breathe again. But the tension is still there, coiled tight in your stomach, and it's not just because of Wrecker. There's something else, something more. 

It's been there since Kaller, a feeling that something terrible is looming. You've felt it before, and it's never been wrong. The Force is trying to warn you, but the warnings are growing more frequent, more intense. Something big is coming, and there's no telling when it will happen, but you're sure it's not good.

You're standing in the back of the medbay, trying to keep out of the way as Tech works on Wrecker. He's running scans and taking readings, and the whole time, he's muttering under his breath. You cast a glance at Rex, who's standing next to you, but his attention is focused on the scene in front of him, his brow furrowed and his hands clasped behind his back.

"You've been quiet," he murmurs, his gaze shifting towards you.

"Yeah."

"Wanna talk about it?"

You hesitate. There's no point in keeping it to yourself, and maybe it'll help to get it off your chest.

"The Force is warning me," you say quietly, and Rex nods. "I don't know what it is, but... I can't shake the feeling that something bad is coming."

Rex frowns. "Do the others know?"

You nod, and he turns his gaze back toward the medbay. "Have they said anything?"

"Hunter knows," you say, and the words catch in your throat. "But... he's been keeping his distance."

Rex glances at you. His expression is unreadable.

"They all are," you whisper, and the admission is almost painful. You look away, unable to meet his gaze, and you have to fight the urge to cry. "I don't know what to do."

"You're worried," Rex says. It's not a question.

"Yeah," you reply, and a chill runs through you. You wrap your arms around yourself, hugging tightly, and take a shaky breath. “But it’s not just that. The Force is warning me. They... they could be in danger. All of them."

You swallow, and when you speak again, your voice is quiet.

"All of us."

He studies you for a moment, then looks back at Tech. He's still working, but now he's talking, and whatever he's saying is enough to pull a groan out of Wrecker. Rex watches them for a moment, his expression thoughtful, then looks back at you. His expression is grim.

 "How bad is it?"

You don't answer at first. The truth is, you're not sure. But Rex waits patiently, his gaze never leaving your face. Finally, you take a deep breath and force the words out.

"Bad," you say at last. You can't hide the fear in your voice. "Whatever it is, I think it's really bad."

Rex doesn't reply, but you can see the worry on his face. He knows what you're capable of, and he's seen firsthand the things you can do when the Force moves through you. If you're afraid, he's got every reason to be scared, too.

The two of you are silent, and when you can't bear it any longer, you break the silence.

"Do you believe in fate?" you ask.

Rex raises an eyebrow, surprised. He looks back at Tech, then shakes his head.

"Not really. I mean, maybe. Sometimes," he admits, and there's a hint of a smile on his lips. "But I try not to think about it too much."

You nod. "I can't help it."

"Why's that?"

"Because... sometimes, I think it's meant to be. Like, everything that happens is part of some bigger plan, and I can't change it,” you mutter. Your eyes drop to the floor. "All is as the Force wills it, and all that. But I don't know. It's... scary. It makes me feel helpless."

Rex doesn't reply at first. His brow furrows, and for a moment, he seems troubled. He looks over at the others, then back at you, and his expression softens.

"I know what you mean," he says, his voice is gentle. "But whatever it is, we'll handle it."

His hand comes up to rest on your shoulder, and you look at him. His face is serious, and the look in his eyes is reassuring. But he can't give you the answers you want, and the feeling of uncertainty lingers. You turn, pulling away from him, and your gaze falls on the others.

"Yeah," you say, but the word comes out sounding weak. Your eyes meet Wrecker's, and the concern in his expression is enough to make your heart clench. You don't want to worry him. You can't. Not after everything he's been through. You force a smile and say the words you don’t mean, knowing he can hear you. "We'll be fine."

It sounds hollow even to your own ears, but Wrecker relaxes, and the look of worry fades from his eyes. You look away, unable to bear the guilt gnawing at your stomach, and the smile fades from your face.

You know that if something happens, if something goes wrong, he'll blame himself. You don't want that. You don't want him to feel guilty, but the truth is, you're scared. For the first time, you're genuinely terrified. And not just for the Batch.

You're terrified for yourself. For the first time, you have something to lose. Your life, your happiness. You've never had that before.

And you don't want to lose it.

But the truth is, there's nothing you can do. You have to face the future, whatever it may bring, and pray that things turn out okay.

Rex's gaze flicks between you and Wrecker. He can see the concern in Wrecker's face, the worry in yours. His eyes are filled with sadness. Regret.

"I'm sorry," he says. "About before. I didn't..."

His voice trails off, and his brow furrows.

"I should have been more tactful," he says finally, and the corners of his mouth twitch up. He looks away, and when he speaks again, his voice is soft. "It's not an easy thing to talk about."

"No," you agree. "It's not."

He doesn't say anything, and neither do you. You both know there's nothing to say. There's no point in arguing or talking about what might happen. No point in making promises or predictions. There's only the present, the future unknown. So instead, Rex just squeezes your shoulder once more before letting his hand fall away. 

He moves to stand near Hunter, and the two of them start talking quietly. You watch them for a moment, but they're too far away for you to hear, so you turn your attention back to Wrecker and Tech.

Wrecker is groaning and wincing, his face contorted with pain as he hunches over. He looks miserable, and you want to comfort him, but Tech is moving him from one piece of equipment to another, and there's no room for you. 

Omega is hovering nearby, a look of concern on her face. She's wringing her hands, and her gaze darts between the two of you. She wants to help, and she's doing her best, but there's only so much any of you can do. You walk over to place your hand on her shoulder and try to give her a reassuring smile, but it feels forced.

You hate seeing him like this. You hate feeling helpless.

"Relax," Tech says as he prepares the surgical laser. "This won't hurt a bit."

Wrecker glares at him, and the look on his face would be amusing if not for the circumstances. Tech gives him an apologetic smile, then looks back at you.

"Could I trouble you to assist?"

"Of course," you say, and step closer.

"Hold his shoulders, please."

You do as he asks, moving to stand behind the bed, and hold Wrecker's shoulders firmly. He looks up at you, and the misery on his face is clear. It's hard to see him like this, but he needs you. So you do your best. You smile down at him, and when he smiles back, the tightness in your chest loosens, and the fear recedes, a little. You lean forward and press a kiss to his forehead.

"It'll be alright," you whisper. "You're going to be okay."

Wrecker takes a shuddering breath and nods, and you feel his body tense as Tech steps closer. You let out a slow, steady breath, and close your eyes, trying to impart as much calm through the Force as possible. Wrecker's shoulders relax, and his breathing slows.

Tech is talking again, and the sound of the laser whines, then there's a flash of light. You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and the air around you fills with static.

"You're in direct violation of Order 66," Wrecker growls, and your eyes snap open.

He lurches forward, his face contorting, and the force of him breaking from your hold sends you stumbling backwards. Wrecker grabs Tech by the throat, the laser slipping from his fingers and clattering to the floor. Tech tries to grab Wrecker's hand, but Wrecker is stronger, and he shoves him backwards, slamming him into the wall hard enough that it dents.

He's staring at his brother with cold, empty eyes, and you're frozen, unable to move or speak. There's no sign of the man you love, no trace of the gentle, caring, passionate man who's loved and cherished you since the moment you met. His face is devoid of emotion, his eyes blank and dead. There's no recognition, no hint of compassion or mercy. 

Nothing but a cold, empty void.

Your blood runs cold, and your stomach lurches. This isn't him. This can't be him.

"No! Stop!" you shout. Your voice cracks, and when Wrecker's gaze snaps towards you, a cold sweat breaks out across your skin. His eyes are dark, and there's something else in his expression. Something that scares the hell out of you.

Wrecker's lips curl into a snarl, and the anger is so fierce and sudden that it catches you off guard. You take a step forward, but Rex catches your arm, stopping you. You don't look at him. You can't look away from Wrecker, from his eyes. 

His grip on Tech's throat tightens. Tech's hands scrabble at his hand, and his feet kick uselessly against the wall.

"Please! Wrecker, stop! You're killing him!"

For a moment, you think you've gotten through to him. For a moment, you see something in his eyes, a flash of recognition, a spark of life. But it's gone as soon as it appears, and he throws Tech across the room with a snarl. 

You jerk your arm free from Rex's grip and rush forward, but Echo catches you around the waist and pulls you back behind cover. You struggle against him, desperate to help, but he's too strong.

"Wrecker!" Hunter cries. "Stop! Fight it!"

Wrecker is beyond hearing. He grabs his blaster and fires wildly, narrowly missing Rex as he dives behind the crates next to you, Hunter and Omega close behind. Your heart is pounding, and you're shaking so hard your teeth are chattering. Omega is trembling too, and she's staring blankly ahead with wide, frightened eyes. She looks like she's on the verge of tears.

"He'll destroy the equipment if we don't get him out of here," Echo says, his voice strained.

"You're all traitors!" Wrecker bellows.

He keeps firing, and it's a miracle no one's been hit yet. Rex pops his head up, ducking back down just in time to avoid being shot.

"You need to run," he says to you. "He's not going to stop until he kills you, and I don't think any of us are going to survive if that happens."

You shake your head. "I can't leave him."

"There's no other way. We'll distract him, but you need to go. Now!"

"No!" You shove Echo away and lunge towards Wrecker. Hunter is in front of you in an instant, grabbing your shoulders and shoving you back.

"Stop," he says. "Listen to Rex. Please. He'll kill you. Do you understand? You have to go."

"He needs me." You can feel the tears coming, and when Hunter sees them, his face softens.

"He does," he agrees. "But right now, he's a danger to you. He's a danger to everyone. You have to go. I'll keep him safe. I promise. But right now, he's going to kill you."

He holds your gaze, and the pain in his eyes is so raw and intense that you feel like your heart is breaking.

"What if you can't stop him?" you demand, your voice cracking. "What if you die? I can't let him do this."

Hunter doesn't answer. He's not even looking at you anymore. His attention is focused on his rampaging brother, and he's getting ready to strike. You can see it in his body language, the tension in his shoulders, the set of his jaw.

"Omega, stay with Tech," he says, ignoring you. "Make sure he's alright. We'll handle Wrecker."

Omega nods, and the two of you exchange a long, sorrowful look.

"It'll be okay," she whispers. "He'll be okay."

"I... I hope so."

You're not sure how much of that you believe.

"Go," Hunter urges. "We'll find you. I promise."

"Hunter—"

"Go."

You swallow hard and nod, and then you're running, narrowly dodging the blaster bolts thudding into the doorframe as you dash out the doors. You hear Wrecker's howl of rage, and then the sound of blaster fire as the others charge him, and the sound makes you sob.

"No," you whisper, and then you're running.

You're not sure where to go, and the ship is a blur around you as you dart down the halls, tears streaming down your cheeks. You run until you can't run anymore, and then you stumble, your chest heaving and your lungs burning. Your legs are weak, and the muscles in your thighs are aching, but you push on, determined not to give up. 

You have to get away. You have to stay alive. If you're alive, you can help him.

But the further you get from Wrecker, the more you feel like your heart is being ripped out. You want to be with him, to save him, but Hunter was right. You have no chance of defeating him without killing him, and the thought of you dying, of leaving him alone, terrifies you.

So you run.

You don't stop until the sound of his blaster fire has faded, and even then, you don't dare stop moving. You're sobbing uncontrollably now, and it's hard to see. Your vision is blurred, and the tears are pouring down your cheeks. You have no idea where you are, and every corridor and door looks the same. It's impossible to tell which way leads out, or even if there is an exit. All you know is that you're lost, and for the first time in a long time, you’re alone.

You finally come to a stop and lean against the wall, gasping for breath. You feel sick, and the walls are spinning. You squeeze your eyes shut and rest your head against the wall, willing the world to stop.

But it doesn't. And it's not just the room that's spinning. It's everything. Your whole world is spinning out of control, and you’re helpless to stop it. You've lost everything. You've lost your home, your friends, and now you've lost the man you love. He's been taken from you, and there's nothing you can do.

You're powerless.

Hot tears spill down your cheeks. Your chest is tight, and it feels like your heart is shattering. You can't breathe. You can't think. You just stand there, crying and shaking and feeling completely, utterly useless.

After what feels like hours, the tears begin to slow. You take a deep, shuddering breath, and the knot in your stomach loosens, just a little.

There's still a chance, you tell yourself. They'll stop him. They'll get him out of there. Wrecker will be okay. Everything will be okay. It has to be.

And then you sense him.

Wrecker's warm presence in the Force is gone, replaced by something cold and empty. He’s always felt warm, bright and strong, but now there's nothing there. Nothing but a cold, hollow void. A darkness so intense that it makes your skin crawl.

Your head snaps up, and you can feel him, a shadow looming in the corridor behind you. His presence is like a black hole, sucking the life and warmth out of the room, and you can't move. You can't breathe. Your heart is hammering in your chest, and the hair on the back of your neck stands up.

Your instincts are screaming at you to run, but you can't. You won't.

You don't know if it's stupid or brave, but you turn to face him.

You move slowly, terrified of what you'll see, and when your eyes meet his, a shiver runs down your spine.

He's standing there, his breathing labored and his body tensed, and he's staring at you with an intensity that makes your skin crawl. In the dim light of the wrecked ship, his face is barely visible, but his eyes are shining with a cold, cruel light. There's no recognition in them, no hint of the man you love, and for a moment, you can't believe what you're seeing.

But the hatred radiating off him is real, a tangible thing, and it's enough to make you sick. It's worse than any injury or torture. Worse than anything you've ever experienced. It's a raw, visceral hatred, and it's directed right at you.

You stand your ground, your hands shaking, and you clench them into fists.

"Wrecker," you say, and the words sound small and weak. "I'm sorry."

His brow furrows, and his jaw tenses.

"I should have done more," you continue, and the words catch in your throat. You're choking on the lump that's formed there, and you swallow, fighting back the urge to sob. "I should have protected you."

Wrecker doesn't answer. His gaze flickers over your face, taking in your tear-stained cheeks and the fear in your eyes. You can feel his hatred, the cold rage coiled tight in his muscles. He's barely holding himself back, and the tension in his body is palpable.

"Please," you whisper. "You have to fight this. This isn't you."

He doesn't reply. He takes a step towards you, and you tense, ready to defend yourself. You don't want to hurt him. You don't want to hurt him. You can't.

"Wrecker, please. Don't do this." Your voice cracks, and when he doesn't react, the tears start flowing again. "I love you. I need you. Please, don't do this."

Wrecker pauses, and his eyes widen. The hatred in his eyes wavers, and for a moment, you let yourself believe that you've reached him. But then his lip curls, and the hatred comes surging back. It's stronger this time, fueled by a rage so intense that it takes your breath away.

"Traitor," he growls, and then he lunges at you.

He moves so fast that you barely have time to react. You dodge out of the way, barely avoiding his grasp, and his hand closes around empty air. He snarls and whirls, his eyes burning with hatred. You take a step back, and the tears are streaming down your face.

"Stop this!" you cry. "Wrecker, please! I don't want to hurt you!"

He doesn't listen. He moves with a speed and grace that belies his size, and he's on you in an instant. You manage to avoid him again, but only just. He slams into the wall next to you, and the impact makes the metal buckle. The sound is deafening, and it sends a shockwave through the room. The walls creak and groan, and dust and debris rain down from the ceiling.

Wrecker's head snaps towards you, his eyes burning with a cold, cruel fire, and your stomach lurches. His lips curl into a snarl, and then he's coming for you again. 

You turn and run, darting down the corridor, and he's right behind you. You can hear the pounding of his boots on the floor, and the sound of his ragged breathing. He's gaining on you, and you don't know if you can keep ahead of him without hurting him. 

Your eyes are wide and desperate, and your heart is racing. You're terrified, but you force yourself to push that fear aside, to try and remember your training. You can't let it control you. You can't let it consume you. 

If you do, you'll never save him. You'll never get him back. You have to stay focused. You have to stay calm.

But it's so hard.

Wrecker roars, and you feel the air rush past you as he grabs at your arm. You jerk free, and his fingers close around empty air. You twist and slam your shoulder into his side, and he stumbles, hissing with rage. You reach out with the Force and shove him back, giving yourself just enough room to move, and then you're running again.

"Please," you sob. "Please, stop."

He doesn't.

You dodge around a corner, and the floor suddenly disappears beneath your feet. Your eyes go wide, and you cry out as the world drops out from under you. You tumble down the sudden drop, landing hard on your shoulder, and the breath is knocked from your lungs. You gasp, pain lancing through your shoulder, and for a moment, you're too stunned to move.

The sound of boots pounding on the floor above snaps you out of your daze, and you roll onto your back, pushing yourself to your feet. Your head whips around, taking in your surroundings, and it only takes you a moment to realize where you are. You're in the cargo bay, and the doors leading out to the planet are mere meters away.

Your heart leaps. You can get out. You can get help.

But you hesitate, and the feeling of his presence in the Force is enough to make your blood run cold. You dart behind a stack of crates just as Wrecker lands on the floor in front of you. He hits the ground hard, and the impact is enough to make the floor underneath you shake.

Your hand clasps over your mouth to hide your surprised gasp. Your chest is heaving, and your heart is racing. The tears are still falling, and you're trembling so hard that your knees are shaking.

The sudden silence is almost deafening, and the only sound is the distant hum of the ship's engines. You don't dare to breathe. You can't make a sound.

"I know you're here," Wrecker says. His voice is low and menacing. "You can't hide forever."

He steps forward, his boots crunching on broken glass. His footsteps are slow, methodical, like he's stalking his prey. He's close. So close. Too close.

"Come out, traitor," he snarls.

You shrink back against the crates. Your heart is pounding so hard that you're sure he can hear it. Your palms are sweating, and the crate next to you is slick with condensation. You have nowhere to go, and no way out. If you try to run, he'll catch you. And if you try to fight, you'll have to kill him.

"I'll find you," Wrecker growls. His voice is low and menacing, and it sends a chill down your spine. "You can't hide from me."

He moves closer, and the sound of his footsteps seems to grow louder with each passing second. You hold your breath, and your hand drifts toward your lightsaber on your hip on instinct before you clench your fist and drop your arm. You can't. You can't use it. You won't.

You won't hurt him.

You'll die first.

Wrecker moves around the crates, and his shadow falls across the wall. You can see his outline, and the hatred emanating off him is like a physical thing. It's palpable, suffocating, and it's enough to make your heart skip a beat.

You hear a thud, and a crate falls to the floor with a loud crash. You flinch, and your hand goes to your lightsaber again, but you stop yourself. You can't use it. You can't. Not against him. Not like this.

Another crate topples. And another. And another. Wrecker's getting closer. You can hear him breathing, and your heart is pounding so hard that your head is spinning. You can't see him, but you know he's there, lurking just out of sight.

He's so close.

So close.

He stops, and the room is deathly silent. You can't hear his breathing, and he's motionless, as if he's waiting for you to make a sound. The seconds tick by, and the tension in the air is so thick that it's almost impossible to breathe.

You can't take it.

"Please," you whimper, and the word comes out as a sob.

He freezes, and for a moment, everything is still.

And then the air shifts. You sense a sudden movement, and a fraction of a second later, the crate above you explodes. You yelp and dive to the side, rolling out of the way, and the crate is reduced to splinters.

 Your scramble to your feet, your back slamming against the wall, and you look up. Wrecker is standing over you, and his eyes are cold, dark pools. His hulking form trembles with rage, and he rushes towards you, his hand curled into a fist. You duck under the blow, and your hand flashes out, connecting with his chin. He stumbles, but he doesn't stop. 

He lunges at you, and you dodge, his hand catching your tunic and ripping the fabric. The sound of it tearing is deafening, and you feel the heat of his breath on your skin as he growls.

"Stop!" you plead.

He doesn't.

"Traitor," he hisses. He's on you again, and this time, you can't avoid him. 

Wrecker hits you in the stomach, and the breath leaves your lungs in a rush. Pain blooms through your torso, and your knees buckle. He swings again, and you throw up your arms, blocking the blow. The force of it knocks you to the ground, and your head smacks against the hard floor.

His fingers wrap around your throat, and he lifts you off the ground with one hand. Wrecker pulls you up close to his face, and the look in his eyes is terrifying. It's pure, unbridled hatred, and it's directed at you.

"Wrecker," you manage to croak. Your eyes search his desperate to find any sign of the man you love, and he growls, his grip tightening.

"Wrecker, please." Tears stream down your face, and you claw at his hands, struggling to breathe. Your lungs are burning, and the pain in your head is almost unbearable. He's going to kill you. He's going to kill you, and there's nothing you can do to stop him.

You know that your next breath will be your last, and you feel a strange sense of peace wash over you. There are worse fates than dying by his hands. Worse things than losing your life. You're not afraid. You're not angry. All you feel is sorrow, and a deep, aching love for the man in front of you. The man who's been your whole world, your heart, and the only home you've ever known.

If this is how it ends, so be it. At least you got to know him.

"Wrecker," you choke out, your voice barely audible. "I... I love..."

His fingers tighten, and everything goes black.

Your eyes flutter open, and the world swims back into focus. There's a dull ache in your skull, and the air feels strangely thin. Your chest is heaving, and it takes you a moment to realize that you're not breathing.

No, you're hyperventilating.

Wrecker.

His name is on your lips, and you gasp before a terrible, aching pain lances through your skull. You try to move, but your body is heavy.

You're lying on your side. The ground beneath you is hard, and the air is thick and heavy. There's a bitter taste in your mouth, and your throat is burning. You try to take a deep breath, but it's like someone's squeezing the life out of you.

"Hey. Easy."

The voice is familiar. Soothing. But it doesn't register.

Someone rolls you onto your back, and the movement sends a jolt of pain through your body. You gasp, and the air burns. You can't see anything, but you feel something cool and wet being pressed against your face. It hurts, and you try to pull away, but a gentle hand holds you still.

"Shhh. Relax."

The voice is familiar, but your mind is too fuzzy to place it. Your head is throbbing, and your throat feels like it's on fire. You can't focus. You can't think. All you can do is lay there and try to breathe.

"Stay still. I'm trying to clean you up."

You try to open your eyes, but everything is blurry. A pair of dark brown eyes stares down at you, but it's not the mismatched ones you're looking for.

Rex.

He's holding something cold and wet against your face, and the sensation is painful, but soothing. You take a few shallow breaths, the air finally starting to reach your lungs. You cough, and it's like sandpaper being scraped against the back of your throat.

"Don't try to talk," Rex says. "You need rest."

Rest. The word echoes through your head. Your thoughts are jumbled, and you can't seem to focus.

"What... What happened?" you manage to croak. Your voice is hoarse, and your words come out sounding more like a growl than anything else.

"I think it's better if I don't tell you," Rex says. He's frowning, and the look on his face makes your heart clench. "Just focus on breathing."

You take another breath, and this one is a little easier. The pressure in your head is fading, and your vision is starting to clear.

"Wrecker," you rasp. "Is he...?"

"Yeah," Rex says softly. "He's... He's okay."

"Where is he?"

"We got his chip out, and the others," Rex tells you. "Tech is treating his injuries now."

There's a catch in his voice, and you can tell that something is wrong. Something terrible. You feel a sharp stab of panic, and you try to sit up, but the room spins. Rex grabs your shoulders and eases you back down.

"Just stay still," he says. "You need to rest."

"I'm fine," you argue, but your voice is weak, and the effort of talking makes your head spin. Rex shakes his head.

"No, you're not." Rex sighs and presses a damp cloth to your forehead. It's cool and soothing, and the pain begins to ease a little. "Just give it a minute."

"Rex..."

"He's okay. I promise." He smiles at you, but it’s forced, and there's a sadness in his eyes that makes your heart twist. "But he's not doing well. We're all gonna need some time."

Your heart sinks. You know what that means. Rex is telling you that Wrecker needs space. That he's not himself. That he's ashamed and guilty and doesn't want to face you. It hurts. More than the physical pain, more than the headache, the exhaustion, and the fear, it's a deeper, sharper kind of pain. The kind that cuts to the bone, and you can feel tears stinging the corners of your eyes.

"I understand," you say, and you hate the way your voice cracks.

Rex's smile falters, and the sadness in his eyes intensifies.

"Hey, now," he murmurs. "It'll be okay."

"No. It won't." Your voice is thick, and the tears are flowing freely now. You can't stop them. You don't even try. Rex pulls you into his arms, and you bury your face in his shoulder, sobbing.

"He tried to kill me," you choke out. "He... He was going to..."

Rex holds you, and he doesn't say a word. He doesn't have to. The pain is written all over his face, and he knows exactly what you're going through. He was there. He watched Wrecker lose control, and he had to watch him almost kill the woman he loves. He had to watch him almost kill his friend.

"I'm so sorry," Rex whispers. He holds you close, and his hand moves gently up and down your back, soothing you. "I'm so sorry."

You cry until your throat is raw and your lungs are burning, and when the tears finally stop, you're exhausted. Your body is limp, and your head is pounding. You lean against Rex, and his arms tighten around you.

"Come on," he murmurs. "Let's get you up."

He helps you to your feet, and you wince. Every muscle in your body is aching, your throat is sore, and the wound on the back of your head is throbbing. You feel weak, and the ground seems to sway under your feet. Rex holds you steady while the feeling slowly fades.

"I've got you," he says. Then, slowly, he leads you towards the medbay. You lean against him, and with each step, you can feel the guilt and shame and anger radiating off him in waves. It's overwhelming, and it makes your heart ache.

"Rex," you murmur. "Are you alright?"

"No," he admits. "But I will be."

"I'm so sorry," you whisper.

"It's not your fault," he says, but you can hear the bitterness in his voice, and the resentment. He blames himself for what happened. He's taking the weight of the entire situation on his shoulders.

You want to tell him that it's not his fault, either, but you're too tired. So you lean against him, and let him guide you to the medbay.

The door is open, and Tech is inside, tending to a  cut on Hunter’s face. Echo is helping, and Omega is sitting in the corner, her knees drawn up to her chest. She looks exhausted, tears staining her cheeks, but her face brightens when she sees you. 

She scrambles to her feet and rushes towards you, throwing her arms around your waist. The impact sends a shock of pain through your ribs, but you bite your lip and hide your wince. She's clinging to you like a lifeline, and you can feel the tremor in her body as she tries not to cry. You hold her close, stroking her hair, and the ache in your heart deepens.

"Hey," you murmur. "You alright?"

Omega nods against you, her fingers digging into the back of your tunic.

"Are you?" she whispers.

"Yeah," you lie. "I'm okay."

"You're not," she says, and the hurt in her voice is enough to make your throat tighten. "But it's okay. We're here."

She hugs you tighter, and you lean into the embrace, your heart aching. You wish it was as simple as that, but nothing is. Nothing will be. Not for a long time. Maybe not ever. You hold her close, closing your eyes, and her presence in the Force is warm and bright, just like always. 

You let yourself get lost in it, and the pain begins to ebb, if only a little, before you open your eyes again.

"Where's Wrecker?" you ask. Your voice is soft, but everyone in the room hears it and the tension is palpable. They exchange glances, their expressions grim.

"He's resting," Tech says carefully. "His injuries are relatively minor, and the surgery was successful, but his mental state is... concerning."

You swallow hard. You knew it was bad, but hearing Tech say it out loud is different. It makes it real, and the weight of that reality is suffocating. You take a shaky breath and nod, but the tears are threatening again, and your voice is unsteady.

"Can I see him?"

"He doesn't want to see anyone," Echo says. His voice is low, his words measured. He's... He's not himself. Not yet."

"I know." Your voice cracks. "I just... I want him to know that I'm here. That I care. That I..."

"Give him time," Hunter murmurs, his expression pained. "He's not in a good place."

"But I—"

"No." Rex's tone is gentle, but firm. "It's not a good idea. Trust me. He needs space. He needs to figure out how to live with what he did."

"It wasn't him," you protest, but even as you say it, you know that it's not entirely true. It was him. Just not the him you know.

"I know," he says. "But it was his hands that almost killed you. And that's hard to come to terms with."

You swallow hard and nod. You know he's right, but it doesn't make it any easier. It doesn't ease the pain in your chest or the ache in your head. You want to see him, to talk to him, but you know it's not what he needs. It's not what you need.

You let out a shuddering breath, your shoulders sagging. You're exhausted, and the world is spinning, and all you want to do is collapse into a ball and cry.

Tech approaches, and he hesitates for a moment before his hand settles gently on your shoulder. His eyes are sympathetic, but the frown on his face is deep, his expression troubled.

"How are you feeling?" he asks.

"I'm okay," you answer. The lie comes easily, almost automatically. It's a reflex. One that has been well-honed over the years, but one that's not very convincing. Not anymore.

He nods and studies you for a moment. Then, he glances at Rex.

"Help her onto the cot," he says. "I'll do a quick examination and treat her injuries."

"No," you protest. "I'm fine. I just need to sleep."

"You're not fine," Rex counters. He's not unkind, but his tone leaves no room for argument. "You were attacked, and you have a head injury. We need to make sure that you're okay."

"I am. Really."

"We need to make sure," Tech insists.

"I'm not—"

"You're getting checked out," Rex says firmly. "And that's final."

You open your mouth to argue, but the words die on your lips. You know he's right. Your entire body aches, and every breath is painful. You're not fine. You know it. But the idea of hearing it from someone else is too much. It's too real.

Rex gently guides you towards the cot, his arm around your waist, and you let him. There's no point in fighting, not when the others are worried about you. So you let him help you onto the bed, and Omega sits next to you, her small hand finding yours.

Tech begins his examination, and Rex hovers nearby, watching closely. You feel small and fragile and weak, and it's a strange feeling. You're used to being strong, to fighting your own battles. But now, you can barely stand on your own. It's a reminder of how fragile you really are, and it makes your chest tighten. No matter how good of a Jedi you can claim to be, it's impossible to ignore that the only reason you're alive is because Rex stepped in and saved your life.

"You have a mild concussion," Tech reports, and his words pull you out of your thoughts. "Several bruised ribs, and multiple contusions." He pauses, and his gaze shifts to your throat. "And those bruises will need time to heal."

Your hand reaches up, and you touch the spot where Wrecker had been holding you. The skin is tender, and the contact makes you wince.

"Yeah," Rex says, anger clear in his voice. "That's going to be a tough one to cover up."

You look away.

"It could have been worse," Tech points out.

"It was bad enough,” he snaps. When you flinch, Rex's eyes widen, regret flickering across his features. "Sorry. I didn't mean..."

"It’s okay." Your voice is quiet, almost a whisper. You swallow, but the lump in your throat remains. "I know."

Tech moves to examine the bruise on your stomach, his touch gentle.

"We can apply bacta to the worst of the bruises," Tech offers. "That will help with the healing process."

You nod, but you can’t bring yourself to say anything. You close your eyes and try not to think about it. About the way Wrecker had been staring at you. The coldness in his eyes. The rage. The hatred. The way his hands had tightened around your throat. The way he had been intent on killing you.

"Can I help you?"

Tech's voice is soft, and he sounds unsure of himself. It's such a stark contrast to his usual confidence, and it makes your chest tighten. This is hard for him, too. Hard for all of them.

"I'm okay," you murmur. "Really."

"You don’t have to be," Tech says. His tone is gentle, but there's an edge to it. “We understand, and we'll do our best to make sure that you're taken care of."

You open your eyes and look at him, and the sympathy in his gaze makes you want to cry. You don't want to be the one everyone's worrying about. You don't want to be the helpless victim, the one who needs to be coddled and comforted. You're a Jedi. You're supposed to be the one taking care of others, not the other way around.

But there's nothing you can do. Nothing you can say. So you nod, letting the tears spill down your cheeks, and Tech places a hand on your shoulder.

"Thank you," you whisper, and the words come out sounding more like a sob.

"Of course," Tech replies, and there's an unfamiliar warmth in his voice. "You're one of us, and we take care of our own."

He turns back to his instruments, and you lay down, resting your head on the pillow. The medbay is quiet, save for the soft beeps and whirrs of the machines, and the familiar sounds are oddly comforting. Tech continues to examine and treat you, his movements careful and precise. He works silently, and the others are gathered nearby, their attention focused on you. It's strange, but it feels nice, being the center of their concern. It makes you feel safe, and it eases some of the pain and fear and uncertainty.

You're surrounded by your family. By the people who love you and care about you. And as the exhaustion overwhelms you, and the pain fades into a dull ache, you realize that's all that really matters. You may not be fine, but you're alive, and you have people that care about you. And that's more than some can say.

It's been three days since the chip incident, and things are... strained. You've barely seen Wrecker, and when you have, he hasn't said a word. He won't look at you. He won't even be in the same room as you. It hurts, but you're trying to be patient. Trying to give him the space he needs. But it's hard, and every day, the ache in your chest grows a little bit stronger.

You'd hesitated to say goodbye to Rex, and he'd again offered to take you with him. To keep you safe, to give you a place to heal. And again, you'd refused, promising him that things would be okay. And they would. You're certain. They had to be. 

But the entire time you'd spoken to him in hushed whispers, you could feel Wrecker's eyes on you. When you'd finally pulled away from Rex to board the Marauder, Wrecker had turned on his heel, disappearing into the ship without a word. He hadn't so much as glanced at you, let alone said anything.

The pain of that had cut deeper than the bruises on your throat, but you'd hidden it, plastering a smile on your face for the others, even though they all knew better.

The daring escape you'd made from Bracca had only served to complicate matters, and the entire team was on edge after encountering Crosshair again. The tension in the air is thick, and it seems like everyone is walking on eggshells, afraid of setting someone off. 

It's a far cry from the usual banter, teasing, and camaraderie that's typical aboard the ship, and the only sounds are the hum of the engine and the occasional beep from the instrument panel.

No one has spoken in hours, and the silence is oppressive. You haven't left your bunk since that morning, the high vantage point allowing you to see everything without having to interact with anyone.

It's lonely, but it's also safe.

No one bothers you, and you're free to let your mind wander. You watch the others, and the sight of them fills you with a strange mixture of emotions. You're proud of them, and the love you feel for them is almost overwhelming. But there's also a sense of loss.

What happened was a reminder that everything could change in an instant, and you're not ready for that. You're not ready to lose any of them. Not when they're the only family you have left.

You close your eyes, drawing in a deep breath, and let the feeling wash over you. It's a bittersweet sort of sorrow, and it makes your heart ache. You know that they're not going anywhere, that the five of them are a force to be reckoned with, but you can't help the anxiety that lingers, the fear that something might go wrong. You've already lost so much. You can't lose them, too.

The sound of footsteps approaching the bunk pulls you from your thoughts, and you open your eyes, expecting to see Echo. But the figure in the doorway isn't him.

"I'm sorry."

Wrecker's voice is barely a whisper, but it's loud enough to startle you, and you sit up, wincing as your ribs protest. He’s standing below, looking up at you with his mismatched eyes. His eyes are wide and pleading, and he's fidgeting, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. You can tell he's nervous, but there's a hint of something else, too. Sadness. Guilt. Shame.

"It's okay," you say automatically, but the words feel hollow.

"No. It's not." His voice is low, and there's an edge of desperation to it, and his hands squeeze into fists. You can feel the anger radiating off him, and it makes your blood run cold. He looks like he wants to punch a hole in the wall, and you have no doubt that he could if he wanted to. He could tear the whole ship apart. He could tear you apart.

You swallow, but your throat is dry, and the fear is starting to build.

"I could have killed you," Wrecker continues, his voice shaking. “I... I wanted to kill you. I was gonna..."

He trails off, unable to finish the sentence, and his shoulders slump. The anger fades, and the shame is so intense that you feel it like a physical blow. Wrecker closes his eyes and runs a hand over his face, his shoulders trembling.

"I tried to kill my own brothers," he says, and his voice cracks. "And I... I almost..."

He takes a shaky breath, tears stinging the corners of his eyes, and he shakes his head. You're at a loss for words, and all you can do is watch him struggle with the weight of his emotions. You want to say something, to offer some kind of comfort, but you can't. You're just as broken as he is.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, and his voice is thick with emotion. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Wrecker..."

He looks up at you, and the raw anguish in his eyes makes your heart twist.

"Wrecker, please, it's okay. I know it wasn't—"

"No. It's not." He shakes his head, his expression pained. "It wasn't me. But it was."

You open your mouth to argue, but he holds up a hand, cutting you off.

"I remember everything. I remember wanting to hurt you. I remember how good it felt. How right." His eyes darken, his lips curling into a snarl. "I'm a monster."

"No, Wrecker," you insist. "No. You're not."

"Yes, I am."

"You're not," you repeat, more firmly this time. You haven’t used the Force in days, but it flows through you now, warm and reassuring, and you can feel the conviction in your own words. "You're a good man. You're not a monster. I saw you try to fight it. I saw the struggle. I know what's in your heart. And it's not evil."

"I should have fought harder." His fists clench, and he hangs his head. "I'm supposed to protect you, but I... I'm the one who tried to..."

"Wrecker."

Your voice is sharp, but he doesn't respond. He's lost in his own guilt, his own self-loathing, and the weight of it is crushing him.

"Please, Wrecker, stop." You slide off the bunk, landing lightly on your feet, and you approach him, reaching for his hands. He pulls away, and it feels like a knife in your heart. "You don't have to apologize. I'm not mad at you. I'm worried about you."

"You should be." His voice is flat, his words coming out in a growl. "I tried to kill you."

"But you didn't."

"I would have." He turns away from you, his jaw clenched, his shoulders tense. "If Rex hadn't stepped in, I would have."

You reach out, laying a hand on his arm, but he flinches, jerking away from your touch. It's a rejection, plain and simple, but it's not unexpected. He's pulling away, both physically and emotionally, and it's tearing you apart.

"Don't," he says. "Just don't."

"Please," you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. "Please, talk to me."

"What's there to talk about?" He sounds bitter, defeated, but he doesn't pull away this time. "I'm a monster."

"No, you're not," you insist. "You're my hero."

"Don't say that," he mutters.

"It's true. You are.” He starts to speak again, but you’re faster, and your words cut him off. "You saved my life. Over and over again. You've never given up on me, even when the odds were stacked against us. You've always been there for me, no matter what."

He doesn't say anything, but you can tell that your words are affecting him. His shoulders are hunched, his body tense, but there's a tremor in his muscles, a slight shudder. You step closer, pressing yourself against his back, and you wrap your arms around his waist. You hold him tight, your fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt, and you rest your forehead between his shoulder blades.

"I trust you, Wrecker. I know you'd never hurt me willingly. And the truth is, I could've fought back. I could've stopped you. But I didn't. Because I trust you. I trust you with my life. And I always will."

He stiffens, his breath hitching.

"You're not a monster," you continue. "You're not a liability. You're my boyfriend, and you're my best friend. And I'm not afraid of you."

You press a kiss between his shoulder blades, lingering there for a moment. Your throat is tight, your heart racing, and you're filled with an overwhelming sense of affection and devotion. The feelings are strong, almost overwhelming, and you don't try to push them down. You don't try to hide them. You just let them flow through you, let them fill the space between the two of you. 

You've held them back for so long, afraid to show your feelings, afraid to let yourself be vulnerable, but now, the dam has broken, and you're drowning in the intensity of your emotions. There's a warmth spreading through your chest, a kind of peace that you've never felt before, and it's almost euphoric. It's like the first breath after surfacing from a deep dive, and the air is sweet, filling your lungs.

"I love you, Wrecker," you murmur.

"Don't," he growls, but the tension is gone from his body, his muscles relaxing under your touch. He leans back against you, his head dropping forward, his eyes closed.

"I do," you say softly. "I love you. And I'm not afraid."

You hold him, the two of you locked together, neither of you willing to move, afraid that the moment will end. He's trembling, his breathing shallow, his fingers curling around your arms, but he doesn't pull away. He doesn't reject you.

"I trust you," you whisper. "I love you. And nothing will ever change that."

There's a long, heavy silence, and then, finally, he speaks.

"I love you, too."

It's barely a whisper, but the words are clear, and the weight of them makes your heart soar. You tighten your arms around his waist, burying your face in his back, and you feel the tears stinging the corners of your eyes. You’re so happy that it almost hurts, the emotions swelling in your chest, making it difficult to breathe. It feels like you're floating, the weight of everything finally lifted.

“I love you so much,” he mutters. “More than anything. But you should be with someone else. Someone safer. Someone who won't..."

"Wrecker, stop." Your voice is firm, and you squeeze him, making him gasp. "I don't want anyone else. I want you."

He takes a shaky breath, his hands moving down your arms until his fingers are laced with yours. He squeezes, his grip gentle, and you squeeze back.

"I don't deserve you," he says.

"Yes, you do."

Wrecker lets go of your hands, turning to face you, his gaze meeting yours. His eyes are wet, tears streaking his cheeks, but there's a softness in his expression that you haven't seen in a while. He reaches out, cupping your face, his thumb stroking your cheek.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs. "I'm so sorry."

"Stop apologizing," you chide gently, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I told you, it's okay."

"But—"

You shake your head, placing a finger over his lips.

"Enough." Your voice is soft, but stern. "No more talking."

His brow furrows, confusion flickering across his features. Then, he gets it, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He nods, leaning down, his lips brushing against yours.

The kiss is soft, almost tentative, but there's an underlying hunger, a need that makes your skin tingle. You press closer, your arms winding around his neck, the kiss deepening, his tongue sweeping across your bottom lip.

He tastes like salt, the tears still drying on his cheeks, and the familiarity is comforting, soothing the ache in your heart. He's home. He's safe. And he loves you. Nothing else matters.

The kiss ends, the two of you gasping for breath, but you don't pull away. You stay close, your foreheads touching, his fingers tangling in your hair.

"I missed you," he murmurs.

"Me, too." You nuzzle his nose, your hands stroking his cheeks. "So much."

"M’sorry."

"I know.” You press a kiss to the tip of his nose, your fingers caressing the back of his neck. "But you're not responsible for this. None of us are. The only person to blame is the one who put the chips in your heads. You can't be held responsible for what they did."

"I know, but..."

"But nothing," you say, your tone firm. "You're a victim, Wrecker. Just like the rest of us."

He sighs, his shoulders slumping, the tension draining from his body. He's still upset, the guilt is still there, but you can feel it ebbing, the darkness fading.

"I don't blame you. None of us do,” you continue. "We're all just happy that we have you back. We're a family. We take care of each other."

Wrecker gives a small nod, the sadness in his eyes fading a little, replaced by something else. Something warmer, more hopeful.

"You're my family," he says, his voice rough with emotion. "My brothers. Omega. And you."

He pulls you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you, holding you close. "And I will never stop taking care of you. No matter what."

You bury your face in his shoulder, squeezing him tight. You can feel the tears building again, but they're different this time. They're not a product of pain or loss or fear. They're tears of happiness, of relief, of love. You close your eyes, letting the feeling wash over you, letting yourself get lost in it. You've come so far, endured so much, but here, in his arms, you're finally home.

Wrecker's fingers curl into the back of your shirt, his breathing shallow, his face buried in your hair.

"Thank you," he whispers, his voice thick.

"For what?"

"For not giving up on me."

You pull away, looking up at him, a smile on your lips.

"Never."

He smiles back, the expression brightening his entire face. You can't remember the last time you've seen him look this happy, and the sight fills you with a warm glow. This is where you belong, where you've always belonged. With him. With your family.

You kiss him, long and slow and tender, and when the kiss breaks, the two of you are both gasping for breath, the flush high on your cheeks.

"I love you," he whispers, his voice rough.

"I love you, too." You reach up, tracing his jawline with your fingertips, your eyes meeting his.

"More than anything," he continues. "And I promise, I'll never let anyone hurt you. Never again."

His voice is thick with emotion, and there's a fierceness in his gaze, a protectiveness that makes your heart skip a beat. He means it. He'll keep you safe, no matter the cost. And knowing that, believing that, fills you with an overwhelming sense of comfort. It eases the pain, the fear, the anxiety, and for the first time in weeks, you feel... whole.

You're safe. You're loved. You're home. And no matter what happens, no matter how hard things get, that will never change.

"I know." You lean up, brushing your lips against his, and his arms tighten around you. "And I'm not going anywhere. Not ever."

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia

@spicy-clones @kindalonleystars @cw80831 @totallyunidentified @heidnspeak

@lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @puppetscenario

@umekohiganbana @resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano

@burningnerdchild @ihatesaaand @lolwey @hobbititties @mere-bear

@thegreatpipster @lordofthenerds97 @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @mali-777

@schrodingersraven @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon @dreamie411 @sukithebean

@bimboshaggy @anything-forourmoony @9902sgirl @jedi-dreea @salaminus

@ghostymarni @gottalovehistory @burningnerdchild @yoitsjay @callsign-denmark

@julli-bee @sonicrainbooms @captn-trex @feral-ferrule @webslinger-holland

@marchingviolist @deerspringdreams @chaicilatte @somewhere-on-kamino

@silly-starfish @floofyroro

“Touch **, and you’re dead.” With Wrecker

Night Gone (Not Totally) Wrong 

Summery:On your way home....things go horribly wrong. But when a big, strong clone comes to your rescue, it causes you to reconsider. Did your night go horribly wrong after all?

Warnings: Little violence. Self depcrecation. mentions of drinking.

Celebrating You Masterlist

Hello dear Anon!!!! Sorry it took me so long to get this out. I wanted to do well on it and life things came up which I had to settle...I hope it was worth the wait! Enjoy!

Huge shout out and thank you to @arctrooper69 for beta reading this story for me!!! Thank you for your suggestions and helping quell my uncertainty after not writing for so long!!!!! <3

You made your way through the streets of Coruscant, trudging along the lonely, empty ally. It was all dark, except the crumbs of light from neon signs and stores, which fell from the busy streets above where the city was lively with music and laughing, drunken men. 

You hated coming this way, especially this late at night, but there was nothing you could do about it. Your normal way home was blocked off by an accident which you could tell would take hours to clear up. Your alternate route was under construction, and so was constricted. Your second alternate route was so out of the way due to military lanes now reserving important pass ways you might as well stay at school overnight. Your third option was you could walk up by the bars, but you didn’t want to do that. Last time, you almost got hit by three different speeders! And hit on, by multiple, unstable beings. Which you have to say, you preferred being hit by the speeders than that. 

But the chill in the still air down here sent a shiver up your spine, which wasn’t related to the cold. Every step you took, filled you with dread and regret that you’d come this way. Amazing how the yearning to get home, and your exhaustion, overroad all sense of urgency, caution, and warning at the time. Now, you were wishing you hadn’t silenced that inner voice. Nope, from now on, you would let it scream and talk and shove this experience in your face so you wouldn't repeat it again. 

Your eyes darted too and fro. Every sound echoing in the ally, and in your ears and brain. You turned sharply to see what they were only to find a womprat knocking over a bottle and the clicking and prattling of tiny feet as it scurried away.

Sighing in relief, you turned around again, still hugging yourself despite the moment of levity. 

“Well, that was certainly nothing to be afraid of.” You huffed, scolding yourself. 

“That wasn’t, but I am.” A deep, gurgling voice growled at you. 

Your body froze, and you slowly turned around to see a masked humanoid step out of the shadows. 

“Try to run, I dare you.”

Your scream pierced the air. As you turned in panic, an electrocord wrapped itself around your ankle. With another scream, you fell to the ground with a hard thud. You let out a sob and a groan at once. Your knees were bruised and your hands were scraped. 

The figure made its way toward you, hand extended with a blaster. You tried to scramble away but a shot of pain from your ankle paralyzed you. 

With wide eyes, you watched your attacker’s steady, slow strides make their way ever closer to you. The gap thinning significantly by the second. 

Then, a flash of blue blinded your eyes and the sound of his blaster clanking a distance away made you gasp. 

“Touch her, and you're dead.” A strong, scratchy voice boomed behind you. Looking over your shoulder, you saw the voice belonged to a large, burly man who towered above you and even your attacker. He had one false eye and his head displayed scarred flesh in the form of a star. He stared menacingly at the man and took two quick steps for you. 

Your attacker screamed at the incoming giant and fled the scene, all bravado gone. 

The man's scowl turned soft and he knelt down to where you were quivering and shaking. 

“Are ya alright there? Did he hurt ya?”

Your eyes were still wide with fear, and your limbs still felt paralyzed. You couldn’t move anything. You just hugged yourself and heaved. 

“I-I-I” you stuttered, struggling with your breathing. If you weren't so shaken, you'd be angry at your inability to get your words out. “I–”

“Don't worry, it'll be ok. I'll get you home.” he interrupted, gently. 

He looked you over and spotted the twisted ankle. 

“Oh, that looks like it hurts.” 

“I-it does.” You said curtly, hissing at the pain that started to crawl up your leg into your kneecap. You dug your fingernails into the gravel below you, trying to convince yourself that it actually did something to relieve the pain. 

“The name's Wrecker.” 

You hummed in reply, acknowledging that you registered what he said. You couldn’t tell if he was being polite or just trying to distract you with conversation. Probably both. You didn’t care enough to differentiate how you felt about it. 

“May I?” 

With a nod of your consent, ‘Wrecker’ scooped you up, and lifted you in his arms carrying you out of the alley. 

He continued to talk; marveled at the uncanny ease of his strength, nonchalance and conversation, you couldn't tell if it was to set you at ease or if that was just how he was.

“We'll get my brother, Tech, to look at that ankle of yours. He’ll know a safe way to remove that thingy without hurting ya more. He's smart and good at everything. He makes a good field medic. I know from experience.” He indicated his head with a nod and laughed. “I got it when I, uh, started messing with explosives in the beginning of our formation. I gathered a whole bunch of ‘em and lit up the entire base! Hunter didn't think it was funny but I thought it was awesome.” 

He laughed at the memories. “If Crosshair hadn't won the bet, he'd have been way angrier, I'm sure. I tried telling him it's the same with that height thingy he pulls. It's worth the risk, even though it's dangerous. It's freaking fun.”

He chatted on as if you knew the people in the stories, never offended by your lack of laughter or reactions. 

You stared straight ahead, hearing but not registering half his stories. You were sure that you'd enjoy them normally but the shaking wasn't going away. Your breathing was still off and your throat closed off by unshed tears. You wanted to cry so badly. Oh how stupid you'd been. All you wanted was to get home. You were hungry and exhausted, and thoroughly run-through by your life. You deserved what you got for being so stupid…

“Hey, it's ok. Cry it out. Hunter says it's good for you, or at least that's what he tells me. But you're not stupid. Don't ever think that. You're going through a lot but it sounds like you've been brave.” 

You jolted, mouth agape, starting at Wrecker for the first time with wide eyes. You didn't mean to say that out loud…

But Wrecker continued to look kindly but seriously at you. There was no jocularity in his manner now. 

“Don't downplay yourself. Anyone can make stupid mistakes. Happens. It's only when we let them get the better of us that they win.” 

You swallowed hard and looked down. 

“But I–” 

“None of that now.” Wrecker smiled big. “It’s war, even on comfy Coruscant! Sometimes ya have to do things ya wouldn’t otherwise do.”

You were silent for a bit before you spoke again. 

“It was my fault, Wrecker, I could have been more careful…how’d you find me?”

“Hm, well, I heard ya scream. My brothers and I were just at 79’s up there.” He indicated a higher level above. I was on my way back to the ship. I just jumped down here to see what it was.”

Wrecker arrived at a lift and kicked the lever to make it go up. 

“Better question for ya, why’d you trust me?”

He looked at you curiously. 

“Well, you have clone armor on…Clones are good…trustworthy…from my experience.”

Your face heated and you looked away again, with the contrast of your face to your body, you realized how cold you were for the first time. You shivered and tried to warm yourself. 

Wrecker noticed and readjusted you so your position was a little bit more close to a cradle, his arms creating a better shelter from the wind. 

The lift came to a jolting stop. 

When Wrecker stepped from the lift, you were met by three figures. You drew closer to Wrecker, fright returning, until Wrecker called out excitedly at the meeting. Ah, these must be the brothers from the stories. 

“Ah, I see you’ve returned.” One man adjusted his goggles. “We were about to come and fetch you. You were approximately twelve seconds over what you said you’d be.”

“Uh, I underestimated how far down it was…” his nose twitched and he switched his attention from his brother to you. “This is Tech! He’s the one that can fix you up!” 

‘Tech’ took one glance toward the ankle and back up at Wrecker. 

“It’s simple, Wrecker, really —”

“Where do you live, kid?” the one with the half-faced skull interrupted. “It’s late and we’ll get you home. Tech, you can give them the proper run down of how to fix it when we get there.”

“Next street over.” 

He nodded and jumped in the speed-car along with the others. Tech prattled on alongside you, Wrecker quiet for the first time, but he never removed his gentle eyes from your face. When you acknowledged his spying, he’d turn away embarrassed and pretended to be looking at something else, all red in the face. This little gesture made you smile a bit. The one with the sniper rifle stayed behind you, arms crossed and annoyed. He hadn’t said one thing. You vaguely wondered if you’d done something to offend him in the past, but he didn’t seem too concerned about your existence at all, so you thought perhaps that’s just how he was. 

The moments seemed shorter the closer you got to your home, a part of you wishing it’d drag on a little longer so you wouldn’t have to leave Wrecker’s arms. It was absurd of you, you knew, but you couldn’t help it. You’d only just met the man, but for the first time, you felt safe in the galaxy of danger. Wanted in a world of love – a place you always felt excluded from. Now, you understood the old holo-films you used to make such fun of. 

Before you knew what happened, you found yourself sitting on your couch, Tech binding your ankle. 

You didn’t remember blankly telling the boys directions to your apartment, nor Wrecker gently lifting you up and carrying you over the threshold to your home. Nor did you notice the exceedingly worried look he was giving you and his brother. 

“Is she ok?”

“She’s fine, Wrecker. She’s had a traumatic moment. She’s spacing out as a form of processing what happened. She’ll come to.” 

“T-hank you. I appreciate all that you boys have done for me.” You slurred when another bolt of pain jolted you into the present. You hated how your tongue felt like sand and mouth filled with mud. You shook your head to clear your mind. 

“No problem, ma’am.” Skull face said with a nod. “Glad you’re alright. If there’s anything more for you before we go….”

“No, thank you. Have a good trip back!” 

They all nodded their heads respectfully with a ‘good night’ and filed out the door. 

Sitting in the silence, your face heated. What the kriff? How could you have been so rude! You should have asked them if they wanted something to eat, drink, or something! What if you never saw them again? 

The idea made you freeze. 

Never see them again? 

Never seeing Wrecker again?

He was so kind, sweet, gentle yet strong. The who night he only treated you as a gentleman would. You didn’t want him to leave your life forever. Not when you’d just found each other. A knot formed in your throat and tears sprung to your eyes.

Nope, you couldn’t have that. You swallowed hard. Things made sense and didn’t at the same time. Your stomach all churned up. Is this what people called butterflies? 

If so… Why were you just sitting there? You had to do something, and quick!

Hopping on one foot, you fumbly raced to the door. Grasping and sputtering (perhaps with some curses about how out of shape you felt), you lunged for the door, grasping the handle and yanking it open.

“Wait! Wrecker! Wait!!!! Here’s my comm number!” You waved a piece of flimsy (you didn’t remember writing) in the air. “Call me maybe?” You looked at the note to double check you wrote the correct numbers in the correct order. Yup, all good. 

Wrecker jogged back to the door, first confused by your outburst but then a small grin made its way from ear to ear.

 “You betcha I will!”

 He excitedly took your number and lifted his commlink to his mouth. 

“Hope ya feel better! Can I come over tomorrow to check on ya?” 

With the rush of blood to your ears at your blush, you almost – almost – missed a sly, foxy voice you hadn’t heard before shout in glee.

“I told you they’d exchange numbers before the night was over. You owe me ten credits, Tech. Don’t forget the double or nothing he’d see her again in the next week. Pay up, bud.” 

Divider by @djarrex and @vet-iv-er

Fluff prompt numero 11 with Wrecker, m! reader too! I really like your writing 🥰🙏 congrats on 4.5k followers!!!

The Easiest Thing 🌊

🫧 Pairings: Wrecker X Male!Reader (can be read as GN)

word count: 1.2k words

prompt:

• “I don’t think I will ever love anyone as much as I love you.”

When you and Wrecker have some time alone together, Wrecker can’t help but lay his feelings out on the line.

warnings: Safe for Work, male reader but can be read as GN, tooth rotting fluff, friends to lovers, love confessions, kisses.

A/N: sorry for the wait @wra1thh00 ! Enjoy 🩵

Please reblog to support fellow writers and creators and give us a big Wrecker filled hug.

The day had been long and chaotic, as they often were when you ran with the Batch.

But finally, after what felt like an eternity, you and Wrecker had some time to yourselves. The rest of the squad was busy either tinkering with equipment or gathering intel, which left you and Wrecker with a rare opportunity to escape for a little while.

"Hey, wanna go check out the village?" Wrecker asked, his tone eager and bright, "Tech said they got some kinda festival goin' on."

You nodded, unable to hide your smile. If that meant you got out of folding clothes and cleaning weapons, you definitely were not going to decline the offer.

It was impossible not to feel a little lighter around Wrecker. After all, you had been harbouring feelings for him since… well, since the moment you met him. His enthusiasm was contagious, he was kind-hearted, good looking and always seemed to know how to cheer you up on your low days. He was the perfect guy for you.

So, it was safe to say you were definitely eager and looking forward to spending some time alone with him. "Yeah, let's go!” you replied happily, grabbing your gear and following him out of the Marauder.

It was a short walk and the weather was beautiful and as you got to the village, you were both happy to see how alive with activity it was. Multi-coloured lanterns hung between buildings, casting a bright, vibrant glow over the streets. The sound of music and laughter filled the air, and vendors lined the main square, offering a variety of goods and treats. Wrecker’s eyes lit up at the sight, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at his wonder as he pointed to everything the two of you should check out.

You spent the next couple of hours wandering through the village, checking out the stalls and watching some of the local performers when there was a moment when the two of you.

Watching an incredible musician that had you both stunned into silence and both standing side by side, you inhaled a sharp breath as his fingers just briefly moved across your own but nothing more. You wondered if Wrecker had noticed but he didn’t seem to make much of a reaction. And when the musician had finished, he smiled down at you and led the way to the next spot.

“Hey Wreck, look over there.” You grin, pointing to a particular game that was right up his street.

“Haha! Shall I show these boys whose boss?” He gleamed, flexing his muscles and cracking his back with a roll of his shoulders to prepare himself.

“Go do your thing.” You encourage as you both approach the game where participants had to swing a heavy hammer to ring a bell. Standing back, you watched in awe and total amusement as he effortlessly sent the bell clanging to the top, drawing cheers and applause from the crowd.

Your heart swells as he gushes over the praise from the others, not particularly used to the high praise about his abnormal brute strength. “That was awesome!” Wrecker grinned as he jogs back over to you. There’s a shy look on his face suddenly as he hands you a small prize he’d won—a simple, carved wooden figure of a sweet little clone trooper. “For you,”

You took it, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “Thanks,” you said softly, your heart skipping a beat at the way he looked at you, his expression tender.

As the evening wore on, the two of you grabbed some food from one of the vendors—a couple of skewers loaded with a mix of savory, spiced meat and roasted veg. You found a quiet spot near the edge of the village to sit and eat, watching as the sky turned shades of orange and pink. The conversation flowed easily, as it always did, and you couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of contentment. It was almost like… no, you shook the thought away, not wanting to get your hopes up. But it really did feel like a date.

The sun had long since dipped below the horizon by the time you decided to head back. The walk back to the Marauder was peaceful, the night air cool and crisp. You were lost in thought, reflecting on the day, when Wrecker suddenly stopped in front of you.

“Hey, uh, can I… can I tell you somethin’?” His voice was uncharacteristically nervous, and he shifted from foot to foot, not quite meeting your eyes.

You frowned slightly, your heart rate quickening. “Of course. What’s on your mind?” Great. This is where he drops you into the dreaded friend zone and you have to act totally fine about it.

He took a deep breath, as if steeling himself, before finally looking at you. “It’s just… you make me feel somethin’, ya know? Like, I’ve always been happy hangin’ out with the squad, but with you… it’s different. Better, even. Like today, it was just us, and it felt… right. Like, I didn’t want it to end.”

Your breath caught in your throat as he continued, his words coming out in a rush, as if he was afraid of losing his nerve.

“You’re always lookin’ out for me, even when you don’t have to. And I—I love how you laugh, and how you get all serious when you’re fixin’ stuff, and how you never treat me like I’m dumb, even when I mess up. You’re really attracted too so I’ll just say it. I… I don’t think I’ll ever love anyone as much as I love you.”

For a moment, you were silent, your mind struggling to catch up with what he’d just said. Wrecker looked at you anxiously, clearly worried about your lack of response. You just couldn’t find the right words.

“I feel the same way,” you say after a few moments, finally finding your voice but with your voice barely above a whisper. “Wrecker, I—” You paused, searching for the right words as fireworks erupt in your stomach. “I love you, too. More than I ever thought I could love anyone.”

Wrecker’s face lit up with a mixture of relief and joy. He reached out, his large hand hesitating just inches from your face. “Can I kiss you?”

You smiled, your heart pounding in your chest. “Yes, Wrecker. You don’t have to even ask.”

He didn’t need any more encouragement. Wrecker closed the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a gentle, tentative kiss. It was soft, almost delicate—so different from the rough, tough exterior he usually presented to the galaxy. You melted into him, feeling his warmth, his strength, and most of all, his love. Your hand cupped his scarred cheek, fingers brushing over the texture as he hums against your lips in soft appreciation.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless, but there was no mistaking the happiness in Wrecker’s eyes. Or your eyes for that matter.

“I don’t ever wanna be without you,” he said quietly, his forehead resting down against yours.

“You won’t be,” you promised, your hand finding his and squeezing it tightly. “I’m right here. Always.”

And as you walked back to the Marauder, hand in hand, you knew that this was just the beginning of something pretty great.

Masterlist is pinned 🌊

Tags: @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 7 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @lamiliani @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi

@greaser-wolf @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @green-alm0nd

@ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @imalovernotahater @sithstrings @the-bad-batch-baroness @lulalovez

Black moonstone-patchouli-chime candle 🖤

Thank you for asking! Let's get this lovely chime candle, and roll it in Patchouli pieces and then melt the bottom and settle it on the black moonstone...

Let's see what kind of spell this creates! 💜

Warnings: Wrecker is adorable, reader is a jedi. Verbal prompt is in blue. This is the one bed trope. Wrecker thinks close contact laying with a jedi (such as cuddles or sleeping next to one) will get them kicked from the order - its Crosshair's fault.

A spell for warmth and protection

Wrecker x reader

You usually didn't go with the batch on missions. Usually, you'd meet the squad of essentric commandos at the location designated for your joint mission then continue from there. Even on the mission you rarely stuck right next to them, opting to camp at the far side of their encircling bedrolls and tents. There was no real reason for it - it was just what you had always done. You'd never though much past such a fact...until tonight-

You stared at the hotel bed before you, pain still shooting through your side from where the blaster bolt had struck you. Beside you, the biggest of the four towered as he too looked at the singular bed

"Ah...I....I can sleep on the floor" he dragged out with a touch of embaressment in his tone

"That's not fair" you sighed

"You're hurt" he insisted

"You're hurt more" you countered, gesturing to the binded bandages across his torso - some peeking from between his armour

Wrecker huffed, a childish looking pout crossing his features as he tried to think of another point to make

"This is nonsense" you shook your head and turned your gaze back to the offending furniture.

It wasn't a nice bed by any means, but would do the job for the night and appeared relatively clean. And it was definitely bigger than you needed - probably bigger than Wrecker was used to as well.

"I can call Hunter, he can fi-"

"We're not exactly on home turf here" you pointed out softly

Wrecker deflated a bit at the reminder.

"Right...getting the staff mad will cause a scene we cant afford..." the commando mumbled with his ever growing pout

"We're both adults..." you sat down on the mattress then patted the other side of the bed "we can sleep in the one bed"

"Together..." Wrecker's tone questioned your idea, though he still did as you non-verbally asked and rounded to the other side

"Yes" you nodded

"It...won't get you in trouble...right?" he asked as he settled himself down, the mattress shifting with his weight

"In trouble..." you mused in confusion "Why would it get me in trouble?"

"Well..." he nervously chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck instinctually but winced as it pulled at tender muscles "C-Cross said that Jedi can't touch clones at bedtime - that's why you never sleep with us"

You couldn't help the silly grin that pulled at your cheeks

"He said that?"

"Yeah!" Wrecker nodded "Said the teachin's why you won't fly with us either...!"

You let out a soft snort at the idea

"...he lied, didn't he...?" the large clone groaned, putting a hand to his face "I knew it sounded like...well not right!"

You swiveled in your spot beside him and began tugging softly at the latches of his armour

"There's no rules against where I sleep, with whom I sleep next to or whom I fly with" you explained as you continued

Wrecker let you undo his armour, piece by piece, glad to have it off him and set to the side.

Your gaze quickly tracked the wounds across his chest whre bacta had been applied - as each location had darkened the bandages.

"So why not?"

"huh?" you blinked, tilting your gaze up to meet his

"Why didn't you?"

You could see the confusion and vague hurt eminating from his form at the idea you willingly wouldn't join him and his brothers.

"I...just didn't" you shrugged, the question leaving you void of an answer for him

"But its dangerous!" he protested "I know you have the saber and the force..." he wiggled his fingers as if that is what made the force work "but!"

You watched as he paused and glanced at his lap, looking sheepish

"But...?"

"Well, I was worried...'bout you" Wrecker confessed softly "Every time..."

Wrecker peeked at you, then grabbed the hem of your robe - not daring to formally grab at you during such a vulnerable exchange but seeking that physical connection as he always did.

"Every time you didn't come with us, i'd worry about you. I'd peek out of my tent just to make sure you were right where i saw you had bene when you went to bed. I tried to stay close as i could...but I didn't want to get you in trouble - or make you uncomfortable"

You could feel your chest grow warm as your heart swelled at his sweet admissions and caring nature.

"Thank you" you whispered as you felt heat gather in your cheeks

"Ahw...it's...it's nothin'" he mumbled looking embaressed

You peeked at his crude bandages then fished out the spare aid kit you kept with you

"Alright, let me take better care of those wounds" you resettled beside him and reached for the first bandage's tie

"Uh...its alright" The sweet commando insisted "Really, I've survived worse"

You gave him a look

"Wrecker, whether you have or not isn't in question. The fact is, I can't just let you stew in barely dressed wounds. I may not be a healer - but I know how to clean and dress injuries..."

Wrecker fussed a bit but inevitably let you take care of him. Let you delicately pry the bandages from his blacks and gingerly over the holes that exposed his skin and clotted wounds. Let you pull his shirt from him and then let you clean each painful location across his torso.

Wrecker hissed as you put the last patch on, it happened to cover the most painful looking one out of the group, but you could tell by how taut his muscles were he was trying his best to stay still for you.

Suddenly feeling an overwhelming urge, you leaned in and kissed next to this particular wound.

"There, now it won't hurt - promise"

Wrecker stared at you wide-eyed and jaw ajar as you pulled back and fished out more patches

"Uh- but..." his voice called your attention to return to his confused face "you got em all"

You stifled a giggle as he gesutred to his new bandages - he thought you were fishing more out for him.

"I need your help" you explained softly as you handed him the sterile patch and the bacta solution.

You then hicked up the side of your robes to expose your upper thigh and hip - where you'd been shot earlier

"I can't see it very well, so...you'll have to help me"

"ah....okay...." he paused looking a bit unsure "I don't usually do this part"

You then walked Wrecker through cleaning and banadging your wound properly - well as proper as you two could manage without being medics.

To his credit, he was very good with his hands and the fine motor abilities needed to do so as painlessly as possible. He didn't mess up placing the banadge nor secured it too tightly - both which you did accidentally to him only a short time ago.

The moment he was done, Wrecker looked at you then at the bandage, then back again as if waiting for something - or perhaps debating something...it was hard to tell

But then he leaned over and pressed a delicate peck against your skin before pulling up quickly and mumbling "so it won't hurt anymore" just as you'd done for him.

Both your faces were hot but with the bandaging complete, you both set to fixing the bed up for the night. Ensuring the door was locked tight and all grimy parts of your attire set to the side until tomorrow, the two of you settled into the bed to go to sleep.

Only sleep wasn't coming to either of you - no matter how hard you tried.

You heard your name whispered as heated breath fanned across your shoulder

"Mmm?"

"I can't sleep" Your bedtime buddy mumbled "uh...can...can I hold you?"

You felt that heat rise back to your cheeks at the ask but remembering your past words on how you both could sleep in bed with one another and have no problems arise...

"Alright" you whispered back

Not even a moment passed before his thick, warm arms wrapped around you and pulled you back into his chest. The heat from his form enveloped you like sheets coming fresh from the dryer and you felt your eyelids droop at the sudden comforting aura.

"This is better" he insisted with a yawn punctuating his words

You nodded, feeling yourself dozing off already.

Wrecker held you a little tighter and pressed his face to your shoulder. Nuzzling against it breifly as he relaxed and felt himself get heavy. As if merely having you in his arms would protect you this night from all that lingered beyond, as if it were a simple spell to keep you safe from all that wished to harm you.

Build-a-spell Masterlist (wip)

Dividers by me

Reblog divider by dystopicjumpsuit 💜

Playing Pretend

Pairing: Wrecker x Twi'Lek fem!Reader

Words: 16,373

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! fake married, (not) unrequited feelings, Wrecker yearning x1000, some negative self talk, big "get your hands off my wife!" energy, some minor jealousy, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk, praise kink, size kink obviously, light dom!Reader

Summary: The mission is simple: infiltrate a lavish party, plant a bug, and get out. The only problem: Wrecker has to pretend to be married to you, and he's not so sure he can hide how much he likes it.

A/N: Happy Wrecker Wednesday! This is definitely the most self-indulgent thing I've ever written, down to the nonhuman reader bc I'm getting a little bored with humans. With this, we've officially reached the end of the fics I wrote before creating this account, and we're going out with a bang (literally).

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

This mission is going to be a disaster.

It's not that Wrecker doesn’t trust you, quite the opposite. You’re quiet, quick, and resourceful, and you’re one of the smartest people he’s ever met. You're built for infiltration, for gathering intel, and as far as the Batch is concerned, you have yet to fail a mission. So no, there’s no doubt in his mind you're the perfect spy.

It’s his own ability that gives him pause.

Hunter, Echo, hell, even Tech would’ve been a better pick for any sort of espionage mission over him. When Hunter informed them Wrecker was the one that was going with you, Wrecker laughed. A full belly laugh that brought tears to his eyes and left his face aching, because the very idea of him sneaking around, being stealthy, well, it was ridiculous.

It was so ridiculous he was sure Hunter had meant it as a joke, but when he saw the serious look on his face, the one that told him his brother meant business, Wrecker began to sweat. He hasn’t really stopped since. 

Lying and pretending are two things he’s truly terrible at, coupled with the fact that he’ll be alone with you, playing pretend with you, and he‘s been on edge ever since.

It doesn't help that Cid insisted the only way you could get close to the target is by posing as a married couple. One that are newlyweds, at that. 

Wrecker knows this is a job, just a job, but it's still you. 

He's still going to be touching you, and not because you need him to, or you want him to, but because the job requires it. And the whole thing just has him feeling weird. He knows you can fake being a couple, but he's not sure if he can.

As much as Wrecker hates lying and pretending, he really doesn't hate you. If he's being honest, he probably likes you too much. So that's why, when Hunter told him about the mission, and then later asked if he was alright with the details, Wrecker had said yes.

The look Hunter gave him told him that he didn't quite believe him, and Wrecker wasn't even sure he believed himself. After all, it's no secret he doesn't have the greatest poker face. He doesn't like lying, especially to his brothers. But he also doesn't like disappointing them, or disappointing you, and he's willing to do just about anything to make sure you're safe.

The rest of the night before the mission was spent planning and strategizing, which meant he didn't see much of you. He wanted to check in and make sure you were feeling good about the plan, but he never got the chance. 

Now, here he is, in a small, nondescript hotel room with you, the rest of the squad holed up in the Marauder and waiting on your signal. The room itself is nice, but small, and there's only one bed. He’d felt his nerves spike when he first saw it, but he forced himself to relax. If everything goes according to plan, you won't be sleeping in it.

There are other things he's more worried about, anyway. Like how he's going to pull this off, and how he's going to manage not to fuck up, and most importantly, how he's going to manage spending the entire mission trying not to get too wrapped up in you.

That last part is the hardest.

He's sitting on the bed, the holomap spread out on the small table beside it. Your target is a small-time gangster, and he’s having a party at his penthouse tonight, so it's the perfect opportunity to sneak in. All you have to do is go through the party, find the main office, plant a few bugs, and then get out. 

Easy peasy.

At least, that's what Tech said.

Well, he said a lot more than that, but Wrecker had kind of zoned out around the time Tech started talking about security cameras and frequencies. 

What he does know is the bugs need to be placed somewhere in the office, and the two of you will have to blend in and seem as natural as possible until you can make your way there. Easy for you, but Wrecker knows he'll stick out like a sore thumb, even if he isn't in his armor.

“You alright, big guy?” 

Wrecker nearly jumps at the sound of your voice, heart in his throat as he feels your hand gently grab his arm. He tenses underneath your touch. 

He can’t remember the last time you touched him, or even the last time the two of you were alone together. Probably because it hasn’t happened. He thinks he would remember if it had, because it feels electrifying. Your manicured hand, complete with a wedding ring, slides against the fabric of his suit. It takes everything in him not to shiver.

Then he turns to face you fully, and his eyes nearly fall out of his head. 

No, he’s not alright.

You look absolutely stunning.

It's not like you don't look stunning every day, you do, and even when you're in armor, or covered in dirt and grime, Wrecker thinks you're beautiful. But this...this is something else. It's not fair.

You’ve shared a bit about Ryloth during your time together, and you’d mentioned that ever since you left the hot planet, you felt cold. He’s never seen you without a jacket except that one time you’d been shot in your shoulder, and even then, he was more focused on keeping pressure on the wound and getting you to safety than on what you were wearing.

But right now, he can't focus on anything else.

He, embarrassingly, tends to ogle whenever any inch of your vibrant skin is on display. He walked straight into a wall the time you stretched in front of him, and your shirt rode up to reveal a hint of the curve of your stomach. When he saw your legs in a dress at 79s, he shattered his glass. He couldn’t help it. That was one of the first times he realized he had a problem, but it certainly wasn't the last.

You're just...so much, all the time, and you don't even realize it. He's gotten better at being discrete, or at least, he's better at hiding his reactions.

But this is so, so much.

Made of some fancy shimmering black fabric, the top of the dress left nearly your entire chest exposed along with your arms. With two thin straps to hold it up, he doesn't know how it's staying in place, but he's sure if he looks hard enough, he'll find out.

A deep cut runs down the middle of the dress, starting right under your clavicle and ending in a point just below your stomach. It's long, coming all the way down to your feet and flaring out, and there are two slits up either side of the dress, exposing your thighs as you move.

There's no denying it, the dress is tight, and Wrecker is trying so hard not to look, honestly, but it's like his eyes are glued to your body.

You mentioned you would have a weapon on you just in case, but looking over you now — admiring the way the expensive fabric clung to every curve of you — he struggles to imagine where it could be.

He swallows. Hard.

The hand on his arm lets go to reach up and hold one of your lek, shifting it so both were draped over one shoulder. You’d gone all out with decorating them as well. Sparkling straps of black crisscrossed up to a velvet headpiece that takes the place of your usual bandana, all coming to a point high on your forehead, where a deep blue jewel sits at your crown. It shifts slightly with the raise of your eyebrows, and he realizes he's been staring, and he’s still not saying anything.

Wrecker forces out the first words on his mind.

“Wow! You look—wow..."

You give him a small smile, a hint of color darkening your cheeks, and his heart thuds in his chest. He wants to make you blush all the time.

He reaches out and grabs your hand, lifting it above your head with ease. Wrecker turns you into a spin, and he’s rewarded with your cute laugh and the sound of the dress swishing as you spin. And then he sees your back, entirely exposed all the way down to the dimples at the base of your spine, just above the curve of your ass.

Holy shit.

He has to look away, letting go of your hand to rub the back of his neck, feeling a little light-headed. This is already not going well.

“You clean up well yourself, handsome,” you say between a laugh, and he blushes more than he already is.

Wrecker doesn't consider himself all that good-looking, especially compared to his brothers, but you've told him once or twice he's not hard on the eyes. You've also told him he has a nice smile, which had him grinning like an idiot for a solid day. He's still smiling now, because hearing you call him handsome makes his heart pound in his chest.

Still, he's not used to all the compliments. It's a lot, especially when they come from you.

"Tech and Echo did the best they could, I guess," Wrecker shrugs. The motion stretches the threads of his dark suit, and he grimaces. It's itchy, and too tight, and he hates it. He doesn't get how people wear these things all the time. "Not really used to the fancy stuff."

You tilt your head, looking him over. He resists the urge to squirm.

“C’mere," you tell him, beckoning him with your hand.

Wrecker does as he's told, and your hands grab his tie. The feeling of you tugging him closer by the silk sends a rush of heat through his veins, and he can’t help but grin down at you as he watches you adjust it for him. 

Your mouth is pursed, nose wrinkling slightly as you concentrate on getting it just right, even though you both know he'll likely mess it up in a matter of minutes anyway. You’re so cute, and you're so close, and it would be so easy for him to lean in and kiss you.

He's thought about it a lot, and he's almost done it once or twice, but then you'd pull back, or one of his brothers or Omega would come into the room, and the moment would be gone. It was probably for the best, considering he doesn't even know how you feel about him.

“Thanks," he mumbles.

You're still standing close, your chest practically touching his.

"Of course." The words are soft, and they leave him feeling hotter than ever. 

He looks away from you, and catches sight of the two of you in the mirror. Wrecker has always been a bit of a sucker for a good romance, and this? This is right out of one of his favorite holovids. You're both dressed in the finest clothes, him in a suit, you in a gorgeous dress, and it's just the two of you against the world.

Except, this isn't real.

There isn't any grand romance, and the feelings that threaten to burst from his chest are his and his alone.

“You really do look beautiful," he says, his voice a little rough, but honest.

You meet his eyes in the mirror. He watches as the corner of your lips quirk up, and you look almost shy. It's adorable, and a little confusing, because usually, you're not so modest. He wonders what changed.

"I—thank you, Wrecker."

"And I'll keep sayin' it till you believe me," he adds, because it's true.

"Oh, I believe you," you laugh, and the sound warms him to the core.

"Yeah?"

You nod. "Yeah."

"Good. 'Cause you really do. You look—" Wrecker swallows, and then shakes his head. He's getting distracted, and it's not good, not when the two of you have a job to do.

"So do you."

You give his tie one last tug, and then take a step back. Your hands smooth down the front of your dress as you look down at your shoes. He can't tell, but he swears you look almost bashful. It's so unlike you that he wonders if you're actually okay.

"You sure you're good?" he asks, concerned.

You hum an affirmative, and then you mutter, “Just already looking forward to taking this off."

The words are mumbled, barely audible, and he doesn't think you intended for him to hear. Wrecker blinks, and his gaze travels down the length of your body, and his mouth goes dry. His mind can't help but wander. It would be so easy for him to reach out, hook his fingers in the thin straps holding your dress up, and just...

"Yeah, me too," Wrecker admits quietly, the words falling from his mouth without thought.

A second passes. Two.

Wrecker's brain catches up to his mouth. He sees the shift of your jaw and the bob of your throat, and he wishes the ground would swallow him up.

"Uh, yeah, I mean," Wrecker starts, trying to backtrack and failing, "because I hate this thing, and it's not very comfortable."

It's not the worst lie he's told, but it's pretty far up there. Still, the look of relief that crosses your face tells him you believe it. Your arms are crossed over your chest, holding yourself in a way that suggests you feel vulnerable, and the realization makes his gut twist.

Wrecker doesn't want to make you feel uncomfortable, and he feels terrible that he has. He didn't even realize that the dress, and the mission, could bother you. You always seemed so put together, and confident, and not bothered by much, that he just assumed you would be okay. But, you're not, and now he feels bad, and stupid.

"We don't have to do this," Wrecker offers, rubbing the back of his neck.

You shake your head, and he can see you forcing yourself to relax. "I can handle a few hours."

Wrecker isn't sure what to say. He knows you're capable, and he doesn't think you would offer if you didn't think you could do it, but the way you're standing makes him wonder.

"But you know if you don't wanna, that's fine too," he adds, because it is.

Hunter would probably give him an earful later, but you were the priority, and Wrecker would deal with whatever punishment was necessary to make sure you were safe and comfortable. He doubted Hunter would be mad, anyway. They're family, and family looked out for each other, and you were part of the team, too.

You look at him, and then down at the floor, and then back up at him.

"It's fine."

Wrecker bites his tongue, but only barely.

You're not fine, and he can tell, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out why. There's a reason you've always been the one chosen for missions like this, even back when you were still an intelligence officer and he was barely more than a shiny. It's not just because of your training and experience, but also because of the way you look.

The thought makes him angry. It isn't right, and he hates that you've been forced into this position. Until tonight, he'd held out some misguided hope that you wouldn't ever have to be put in a situation like this again.

He knows you can handle a lot more than most, but you shouldn't have to.

"Really, Wrecker, I'm fine," you say again, and it's only then that he realizes he's been staring at you.

"Are you sure? ‘Cause if—"

You step forward, putting a hand on his chest and looking up at him. His eyes catch on the shine of your lips, and the warmth of your hand against his chest makes his heart race.

"If you keep asking me, I'm gonna start to think you don't want to be my husband," you tease.

"I'd love to be your husband," Wrecker replies without missing a beat, and he means it.

The words are true, even if the context isn't. It's the closest thing he'll get to a wedding with you, and that thought makes him want to scream. Instead, he settles on smiling, even as his heart races and his palms sweat.

"I'm sorry, I just don't wanna make you feel—"

"I'm kidding, ma sareen," you say, shaking your head, "I know. But really, it's okay."

He gives a slow nod, not sure how to respond. You've called him that before, and while he doesn't speak Ryl, he does know it's a term of endearment. One that he's overhead Suu say to Cut a few times, and one that you've used with him, and only him.

Every time, it makes him smile. But it's one thing for you to say it casually, and another entirely to say it in front of strangers, pretending to be married to him. He doesn't know why the thought makes his heart pound in his chest, or his ears grow warm.

"And hey, at least I have someone who can protect me, right?"

He grins proudly, and nods. That, he can do.

"You got that right."

"Then what's there to worry about?" you ask, a smile on your face.

That I might embarrass you, is what Wrecker wants to say, but doesn't. Instead, he follows you towards the door. You pause just before stepping through, looking up at him expectantly. He doesn't quite understand until you reach out and hold your hand palm up.

"Well?"

"What?"

"Give me your hand, Wrecker," you laugh.

"Oh, right," Wrecker stutters, slipping his hand into yours.

His hands are rough and calloused from years of fighting, but your hand is soft and gentle, and he tries his best not to squeeze too hard. You lead him out of the room and to the lift. You lean against him, your head resting on his shoulder, and his breath catches in his throat.

"Relax, big guy, you've got this," you whisper, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

Wrecker hopes you're right.

He's not sure how long the two of you have been here. An hour? Maybe two?

Whatever it is, it's long enough that his face hurts from fake smiling. His shoulders are tense, and he keeps a steady hand on your lower back, not willing to let go.

As soon as the two of you had walked through the door, the guards had taken your weapons, and it had been the first time Wrecker had felt truly unsettled since leaving the ship. Not only was he unarmed, but now, you were as well, and he was responsible for keeping you safe. They'd even taken the knife you'd tucked into the holster on your thigh.

They'd also frisked you, and while it wasn't the first time, or even the first time for him, it was the first time he'd seen it done like that. The guard had run his hands up the inside of your thigh, his thumb dangerously close to places he never should've been touching, and Wrecker had seen red.

The man was lucky all Wrecker did was grab his wrist and pull it away, his grip tight enough to bruise. The guard had stumbled, his face red as he tried and failed to apologize. It didn't matter to him. The bastard wouldn't be able to use that hand for a while, and Wrecker hadn't felt bad at all.

After, he'd wrapped his arm around your waist and held you close. He knows he probably shouldn't have, but he needed the reminder that you were safe. He could pretend it was just for show, but really, it was to comfort himself.

It doesn't help that every eye in the room has been on the two of you since you arrived, and while the stares are likely directed at you, Wrecker still doesn't like it. It makes his blood boil, and his skin crawl, and all he wants to do is get out of here. He hates how uncomfortable and vulnerable it makes him feel, and the fact that it's affecting him at all is embarrassing.

You seem to be doing just fine, chatting with various people, laughing and smiling and, unfortunately, flirting.

Not with him, no. With all the men and women around you.

It's the nature of the job, he knows that, but it still sucks.

You're doing your best to blend in, and it's working. He just tries his best to keep up with you. He doesn't trust any of these people, not even for a second, and the tension in his shoulders doesn't ease, no matter how hard he tries.

This is the first time he's been in a party like this, and he doesn't think he likes it.

When Tech had said the target was having a party, he'd expected loud music, maybe some dancing. What he got was an old-fashioned cocktail party, the type he's only ever seen in holovids, and the kind where the rich and powerful mingle and talk about politics and money.

It's boring, and the people are rude, and the lights of the chandelier make his eye twitch. But worst of all, no one can take their eyes off you, and he can't blame them. Even after the initial shock of seeing you dressed like that has passed, his eyes can't help but trail down the length of your body. And while you're definitely the most beautiful person in the room, he thinks there's a part of him that doesn't want anyone else to see you.

At least there's good food. And drink. And while he would never dare touch you without permission, it's nice to know he can do so now.

So he's taken every opportunity to do just that, to let everyone around know that you're his. He's kept his hand on the small of your back, the curve of your hip, the bend of your waist, and he's made sure to be close to you at all times. You don't seem to mind, which is the best part, and it makes his chest swell with pride.

Your arm is tucked around his, your fingers laced with his own, and he loves the way you lean into him, like you need him, like he's a safe place for you. He doesn't know if you do, but it doesn't stop him from wishing.

Wrecker looks at the ring on his finger. It's a simple gold band, nothing fancy, and it reminds him that this isn't real. It's just for the job, and he has to keep reminding himself of that. Because if he doesn't, it'll be easy for him to lose sight of that. And if he loses sight, he might do something stupid, like kiss you, and he's not sure if he'd be able to stop.

"So, where did you two meet?"

Wrecker tears his gaze away from you and to the Twi'lek across from him, her blue lekku adorned with jewels. He has no idea who she is, but the two of you are getting along so well he doesn't want to interrupt. You're the only Twi'leks in the room, and he thinks that might be the only reason the two of you are talking at all.

"Oh, it's a little embarrassing, actually," you answer, a shy smile on your face.

You squeeze his hand and glance up at him, and his stomach flutters.

"Not really," he mumbles, cheeks warm.

"You don't think so, but I might," you giggle, and Wrecker can't help the way his mouth quirks up in a smile. He wants to kiss your forehead, or your cheek, or your lips, but he doesn't.

The Twi'lek woman laughs and sips her drink, leaning in close to listen.

"C'mon, tell me, I'm dying to know."

Wrecker's not sure what story you've told everyone else, so he's not sure if this is part of it, but the way you look up at him makes his heart skip a beat. You squeeze his hand again, and he wonders if it's supposed to be a sign. It's a little distracting.

"Well, um, we met when he saved my life."

Wrecker nearly chokes on his drink.

The Twi'lek raises a brow, glancing between the two of you. "Really?"

"Mhm."

"That's not embarrassing."

"Yes, it is. Because he saved my life, and instead of being grateful, I called him an idiot," you tell her, a blush rising to your cheeks.

It's the truth. When you were still an officer, your unit was under fire. You'd been separated from your squad, pinned down, and Wrecker had found you. He'd pulled you from your hiding spot and out of the way, and the two of you had barely escaped unscathed. But the first words you'd said to him were, 'You idiot, you almost shot me.'

In his defense, he was a little distracted at the time.

"What did you say to that?"

Wrecker shrugs, taking a sip of his drink. "Not much."

You look up at him, your eyes shining. "I mean, he did save my life, so I apologized, obviously."

"Obviously," the woman nods.

"And, um, well," you stumble, and Wrecker wonders what's making you so nervous. It's not like you to be caught off guard, but you seem almost embarrassed. "He's the kindest man I've ever met, and I was immediately charmed by him."

Wrecker can't hide the surprise that crosses his face, but he does his best.

"It was hard not to fall for him," you admit, a softness in your voice that wasn't there before, "and, well, here we are."

Your gaze meets his, and the tenderness in your eyes takes his breath away.

"So romantic," the woman sighs, and you nod in agreement.

"Yeah, it's...it's somethin'," Wrecker says quietly, his chest tight.

He doesn't think anyone's ever talked about him like that, let alone in front of a bunch of strangers.

You lean into him, a soft smile on your face. Wrecker's hand slides from your waist to rest on the small of your back, and his eyes linger on the curve of your lip, the slight shimmer on your cheek. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and your eyes drop down to watch the motion, and his heart thuds against his ribcage.

He can't help but wonder if maybe there's some truth to what you're saying. It's not like you've been lying the entire time, and Wrecker isn't naïve. He knows this is all part of the act, but the way you're looking at him makes him feel like you might mean it.

Wrecker can't help the way his mind wanders, or the way his stomach flutters when your lips brush his ear as you whisper, "You alright, darling?"

His breath hitches in his throat, and it's hard not to shudder as you trail a finger up his arm.

"Yeah, m'fine," he manages, the words shaky.

Your lips brush the shell of his ear, and he has to fight the urge to groan.

"We've got company," you whisper.

Wrecker tenses, scanning the room. It takes a moment for him to realize you mean the target. He's making his way through the crowd, and it's only a matter of moments before he's approaching.

"Mr. and Mrs. Kasta," he greets, an air of confidence in his voice, "welcome."

Wrecker nods at him, keeping his mouth shut. He doesn't trust himself not to say something stupid. He's already fucked up a few times tonight, and he doesn't want to embarrass himself. Besides, you're already taking the lead, smiling brightly at the man.

"Thank you for having us, Mr. Dralig," you tell him, giving a slight bow.

"Please, call me Bohme," he insists, returning the gesture. "Always a pleasure to meet such an esteemed couple as yourselves. You look ravishing, Mrs. Kasta."

You blush, and Wrecker fights the urge to roll his eyes. You are the most stunning woman in the room, and he can't imagine how this asshole could think otherwise, but the compliment still makes him bristle. He can't understand why you don't seem more annoyed.

"Well, thank you," you say, a hint of laughter in your voice.

"I do hope you're enjoying yourselves," Bohme continues, "the food, the music, the view."

The man's eyes linger on you for a moment too long, and Wrecker doesn't have to be a genius to figure out what he means.

"Oh, yes, very much so," you reply easily, ignoring the implication, "thank you."

Bohme nods, and then turns his attention to Wrecker, giving him a quick once-over. Wrecker tenses. The man is short and thin, his features pinched and pale, but his eyes are sharp, and his mouth is curved up in a smile that's almost predatory.

"I must say, I was a little surprised when I learned the Kastas would be joining us tonight. I was told they were unable to make it."

Wrecker narrows his eyes, watching the man carefully.

"Yes, well, our schedules opened up, and my husband was able to move some things around. It's rare we get a night off, so I jumped at the chance," you tell him, reaching out to grab Wrecker's arm and squeeze it.

He's glad you're playing the part so well. It's definitely not something he's capable of, and he can't help but feel a little useless. But he can at least make sure you're not alone, and that this guy keeps his hands off you.

"Well, I'm glad you could make it."

"We're glad we could too. The party's been wonderful."

"Glad to hear it."

Wrecker shifts slightly, feeling the weight of the man's gaze. There's something unsettling about him, and Wrecker's never been able to hide his disdain for the people they're forced to work for. But Bohme's the mark, and so he tries his best not to stare, but he's never been good at playing nice.

"If I'm being honest, I thought the rumors were exaggerated."

Wrecker frowns, and you look a little surprised.

"Oh?"

"I see the scars aren't," Bohme adds, gesturing to Wrecker's face.

Wrecker doesn't reply, only glares. The scars have never bothered him, not really. Sure, sometimes people stare, or ask him about them, and sometimes that's more than a little awkward. But he doesn't hate them. He mostly just forgets they're there until he gets one of the phantom pains, or someone points them out.

This man, though, he's staring, and not with curiosity, but with judgement, and it makes Wrecker’s skin crawl. He clenches his jaw, looking for the words to tell him off that won’t make the entire operation fail, but thankfully, you're quicker than him.

"No, but I quite like them," you say, reaching up and brushing a hand over his scarred cheek.

Wrecker swallows, his head tilting down to meet your gaze. Your touch is gentle, your thumb brushing under his eye, and he watches as your eyes shift from cold fury to something warmer, kinder.

"They remind me of just how brave and selfless my husband is," you tell him, the words soft, almost as if they're just for him.

Wrecker blinks, his lips parting. He wants to respond, but his throat is dry, and he's not sure what he would say even if he could.

"And I would be lost without him," you add, your fingers sliding across his jaw.

He knows this isn't real, that it's just for show, and he's just a means to an end, but he can't help the way his heart races in his chest. Because the way you're looking at him isn't fake, and neither are your words. He doesn't know how he's so sure, but he is.

He can't find his voice, and he doesn't trust himself to speak, so instead, he takes your hand and presses his lips to the inside of your wrist. You gasp, and your mouth parts, and he's so focused on the warmth of your skin and the way you blush that he barely registers the sound of Bohme's laughter.

"Oh, to be young and in love."

Wrecker doesn't pay attention to the rest of the conversation. He doesn't care. All he can focus on is you. The way you look up at him, and the softness in your eyes. The way you're pressed against him, and the way his arm is wrapped around you, and the way it feels like you belong there.

You've always felt right in his arms, like you fit perfectly, and every time you touch him, he wonders if it's the last. That's how it is now. Like it could end at any moment. So, he's memorizing everything, every detail, the feel of your skin, the sound of your voice, the scent of your perfume.

Because when this is all over, he'll never be close to you like this again, and he'll never forget it.

"Ma sareen." 

He snaps out of his trance at the sound of your voice. "Hmm?"

"Could you be a dear and get me a drink?"

"Sure thing, sweetheart."

Wrecker leans in, pressing his lips to your temple, and he relishes the way your cheeks turn red and the sound of your breath hitching in your throat. He doesn't know what he's doing. All he knows is that it's worth it to see the look on your face, and the way Bohme looks like he's swallowed a lemon.

He gives your waist a gentle squeeze and turns, making his way through the crowd to the bar. It's the furthest place from the door, and the longest walk of his life, because his head is swimming, and his heart is pounding, and it’s giving him too much time to think.

And when he does, all he can think about is you. He's not blind. He can see the way you've been looking at him tonight, and the way you're touching him. It's driving him crazy, and the more time he spends here with you, the harder it is to convince himself that you don't feel the same.

Maybe you do feel the same, and he's just been missing the signs, too afraid to see them. Maybe he should do something about it.

The thought is scary. What if he does, and he's wrong?

But then he remembers the way your fingers slid across his cheek, the way you leaned into his side,  and the way you blush whenever he calls you sweetheart. It's enough to give him hope.

"What can I get for you?" the bartender asks.

Wrecker blinks, glancing down at him. He'd forgotten why he was here, and his cheeks warm as he fumbles for an answer. Champagne seems like the right call for you. You'd both had a few glasses earlier, and it was fine, but he needed something much stronger if he was going to have a chance at getting through the rest of the night.

"Whiskey, neat.”

He doesn't pay attention as the bartender pours his drink. He turns around toward where couples are dancing, scanning the room for you. When he finally finds you, his stomach twists, and he has to force himself to breathe.

Bohme has his hands on your hips, and your hand is on his chest, and the way his head dips toward yours sends a flash of anger through him. The two of you are dancing, swaying back and forth, and while Wrecker knows it's a mission, and that you're just playing a part, it still makes his stomach churn.

Because even from here, he can see the look in the man's eyes, and it's not one of someone who's just playing a part.

"Is that all?" the bartender asks.

"What—no, no. Give me another," Wrecker mutters, grabbing the first glass and downing it in a single gulp.

It burns his throat, but it's the distraction he needs, because the two of you are getting closer. He's not sure if Bohme is going in for a kiss, but he knows he's not going to be able to watch it happen.

The second glass goes down just as quickly, and Wrecker winces, slamming the glass back on the bar and turning around. He doesn't know what's come over him. He's not a jealous person. Never has been, not even a little. He's been on plenty of missions with you, and seen you get close with other men, and while he didn't like it, he's never felt this.

Wrecker pushes past the dancing couples and walks toward the two of you. As soon as Bohme's hand slides lower on your back, Wrecker knows it's too much. You've gone along with the plan, but Wrecker's not going to stand here and watch you be taken advantage of, not by him, or anyone.

He storms up to the two of you, ignoring the startled looks on your faces and those around you. Before he can even think about what he's doing, Wrecker wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you close. His hand settles on your lower back, your skin warm and soft against his palm.

"Can I cut in?" he growls, his voice low and gruff.

"Uh—"

"I was talking to my wife," Wrecker snaps, his eyes narrowed.

The man's face pales, and his mouth drops open. He glances down at you, and then back up at Wrecker, and then steps back, holding his hands up in surrender.

You press your hand to his chest, and the motion is so familiar and comforting that his shoulders relax. He looks down at you, and his breath catches in his throat. There's a hint of a smile on your face, and you look happy, and his stomach flutters.

"Of course, darling," you murmur, your fingers curling into his shirt, "we were just having a nice chat, weren't we, Bohme?"

Wrecker glares at the man.

"Yeah, sure, we were," the man replies, taking a step back.

Wrecker knows he should leave it alone, and let you take care of it, but the whiskey has loosened his tongue, and the man's wandering hands have left him feeling more than a little possessive.

"Don't get any ideas, pal. She's married," Wrecker tells him, his voice a deep growl.

He's being harsh, but he doesn't care. You've had to deal with this asshole enough for one night, and Wrecker's tired of watching him touch you, and talk to you, and look at you.

"Of course, I would never," Bohme says, shaking his head.

Wrecker's not convinced, but he's not going to start a fight over it. As much as he'd like to knock the guy's teeth in, he doesn't. For your sake. And for the mission's, though he's caring less and less about that as the night goes on.

"You alright, sweetheart?" Wrecker asks, his tone gentler, more concerned, as he leads you away.

"I'm fine, darling," you answer, giving his arm a squeeze.

He's not sure if he's imagining it, but he swears you sound a little breathy. Wrecker's not surprised. If his heart is racing from the adrenaline of pulling you away from Bohme, then yours probably is, too.

"Sorry I forgot your drink," he mutters as he picks up his pace, "that guy just rubs me the wrong way."

"It's okay," you say, looking up at him with a small smile. As the two of you get further and further away, you add, "I was kind of hoping you would."

He stops walking, his brow furrowing. "What?"

"Nothing, ma sareen."

"Wait, were you—" Wrecker glances over his shoulder, and the realization hits him. You'd known the whole time, and were counting on him to notice, and he had. He's not sure if he should be mad, or embarrassed, or something else entirely. "Oh."

You tilt your head, looking up at him with an amused expression. "Yeah, oh."

"That's why you wanted a drink, wasn't it?"

You bite your lip, a blush rising to your cheeks. "Well, I was thirsty."

"I—"

"I knew you wouldn't leave me alone with him."

"I wouldn't," he says, shaking his head, "not in a million years."

You look down, and his grip on you tightens. He doesn't mean to, but he's still shaken up, and your nearness is a comfort, even if it shouldn't be.

You lean into him, and he takes a step forward, pulling you close. His other hand comes up, his fingers brushing your cheek, and his eyes drop to your lips. He doesn't mean to touch you like this, but now that he has, he doesn't want to stop.

"I know," you say softly, your breath warm against his palm.

"Good," he murmurs.

Your hand slips down his chest, and Wrecker shudders. You're standing so close, and your face is only inches from his, and your eyes are shining. The words leave him before he stop them, his voice a low rumble.

"And I don't want anyone else touching you, either.”

The sound that leaves your mouth sends a rush of heat through his veins, and he has to fight the urge to kiss you.

"Good," you whisper, the word nearly lost to the music.

"Really?"

You nod, looking up at him through your lashes, and his heart skips a beat. "Mhm."

Wrecker lets out a shaky breath, his hand sliding down to cup your cheek. His lips are only inches from yours, and he's not sure if it's the alcohol or the dress, but he feels bold. Too bold.

"Then, is it okay if I—"

You press a finger to his lips, silencing him.

"Yes," you tell him, leaning closer, "but not here."

Wrecker freezes. Did he hear that right? Or is he imagining things?

"Why not?"

"Because," you start slowly, pressing a kiss to his cheek, "if you kiss me, I'm not going to want you to stop. And we're in the middle of a party, and the mission's not over."

Wrecker doesn't even realize his mouth has fallen open until you reach up and close it for him. Your touch is gentle, and his cheeks are warm, and the softness in your eyes makes him melt. 

Your hand drags down to adjust his lapel before you slip something into his pocket.

"Got his keycard," you whisper, patting his chest.

Wrecker doesn't care. You could've told him you'd stolen the man's starship, and it still wouldn't have mattered. Not with the way you're looking at him.

"You're really somethin', y'know that?" he asks, and if he sounds a little breathless, he doesn't care about that either.

"So are you, ma sareen," you answer, smiling softly, "so are you."

"Almost done," you say, your voice soft, but urgent.

Wrecker is leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, his gaze locked on you. He's careful not to touch anything in Bohme's office as you make your way around. His eyes are on the sway of your hips, and the soft curves of your body, and it's all he can do not to reach out and pull you against him.

You'd managed to slip away, and while Wrecker is a little disappointed the two of you had to leave, he knows the sooner you're finished, the sooner you can be alone.

"Anythin' you need help with, sweetheart?"

"No," you answer, "I got it."

You're bent over, looking for something, and the view gives him a perfect view of the curve of your ass. It's a bit distracting, and his mind is wandering. He's thinking about how nice it would be to hold you in his arms, and kiss you, and the things he would like to do if he had the opportunity.

The list is getting longer by the minute.

"Just need a few more seconds."

"I'm not in a rush," he answers with a shrug. His eyes are locked on your ass, and the way it moves as you work. You'd asked him to keep watch, and that's what he's doing, just keeping watch.

"Yes, you are," you say, a teasing lilt in your voice.

"Maybe," he admits, not bothering to deny it.

He doesn't care if it's a little pathetic, or desperate. He doesn't want to hide his feelings anymore. Not from you, and not from himself. He wants you to know, and to understand.

You glance over your shoulder, your eyes meeting his. You're wearing a smile that makes his stomach flutter.

"What are you thinking about?" you ask, a sultry note to your voice that makes his head spin. You walk over to the lamp on the wall and unscrew the glass. One of the bugs Tech had given you slips into the empty socket before you replace the bulb.

Wrecker blinks, his mind foggy.

"You."

You look surprised, and for a moment, he wonders if he's gone too far. But then, you smile, and he knows he's made the right choice. "Yeah? What about me?"

"Just how lucky I am," he tells you, the words sincere.

"Lucky?" you ask, raising a brow.

"Mhm."

You shake your head, letting out a soft laugh. "I think I'm the lucky one."

"I dunno. Pretty sure I'm the one who gets to take you home," Wrecker points out, a grin on his face.

Your eyes widen, and your lips part, and for a moment, you just stare at him, stunned. You let out a shaky breath, your face falling, and it's then that Wrecker realizes his mistake. You’re worth more to him than a quick roll in the sheets, and while he wants you, and the thought of it makes him hot and bothered, he's not interested in a one-night stand.

"I, uh, I didn't mean it like that," he stutters, his cheeks growing warm. “I—“

"Don't worry, darling, I know what you meant," you say, a hint of disappointment in your voice.

"It's not like—"

"We should go, Wrecker. The others are waiting."

"Right," Wrecker says quietly.

He doesn't like the tension in your shoulders, or the way you won't look at him. He's not sure what to say to fix this. All he knows is that the moment is over, and his heart is pounding.

When the two of you step out of the office, the door slides shut behind you, and he grabs your wrist. You don't stop, and you don't turn around. But you don't pull away, either.

"Hey, c'mon, just wait a sec, please."

You stop, letting out a quiet sigh. "It's okay, Wrecker, you don't have to—"

"But I want to."

You look up at him, your jaw set, and there's something in your eyes that tells him you don't believe him. It breaks his heart a little. Because it's true. He's been wanting you for a long time, and even if you don't feel the same, he's not going to let you leave without knowing it.

Wrecker takes a step toward you, and another, and another, until he's pressed against you. He lets go of your wrist, and his hand settles on your waist.

"Wrecker, what are you doing?"

"Trying not to be an idiot."

"You're not an—"

"Yeah, I am," he interrupts, a soft smile on his face. "I'm not good with words, and I don't always know the right thing to say. But I'm gonna try."

"Wrecker," you whisper, your eyes wide, "you don't have to."

"But I want to. I wanna tell you the truth."

"The truth?"

He nods.

"And what's that?"

"That I think you're the most beautiful person I've ever met," he tells you, his voice soft. "I think you're the bravest, and the kindest, and the smartest. I think you're the best, and I wish I was half the person you are."

"Wrecker, you're—"

He squeezes your waist gently. "Not done yet."

You smile up at him, a fondness in your eyes that makes his heart race, and you nod.

"And I know I don't deserve you, and I know you're probably just being nice, and that maybe, I'm reading into this too much, but I don't think so."

You look like you want to interrupt him again, but you don't. He's grateful.

"I think there's something here. Between us,” he says. “And I've never been good at keeping my feelings to myself. I think about you all the time, and I can't help it.”

"Wrecker, are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"I dunno.” He shrugs. “Maybe. Probably."

You shake your head, laughing. "Wrecker, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're trying to tell me you have feelings for me."

"Well, that's because I do."

"What?" you ask, sounding almost as surprised as he felt earlier.

"Have feelings for you. I have a lot of 'em," he tells you, a smile on his face. It feels good to finally admit it. "I've had them for a while."

"How long?"

"Pretty much since I met you."

"Really?"

He nods. "Really."

"That's...a long time," you murmur.

"Mhm. So, that's the truth," Wrecker says. "And if you don't feel the same, or if I'm wrong, or if I'm misreading things, then just tell me, and I'll never bring it up again."

"I don't think I could," you answer, "not now, after all that."

"So, then, maybe—"

"Wrecker," you whisper, his tie and pulling him closer. Your lips brush his, and he has to fight the urge to groan. "I have a lot of feelings, too. I just didn't know you did."

"Yeah?" he asks, his voice hoarse.

"Yeah," you breathe, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

He doesn't bother fighting the groan this time. He can't. Not when you're this close. Not when he can feel your breath against his skin. Not when your lips are ghosting over his, and the scent of your perfume is filling his nose, and the warmth of your body is pressed against him.

"Then, does this mean—"

"You can kiss me," you murmur.

Wrecker doesn't hesitate.

His mouth crashes against yours, his hands slipping down to your hips and pulling you against him. You let out a whimper, and it's all he can do not to moan.

He doesn't want to push too far, or scare you away, so he holds back. He kisses you with restraint, with tenderness, with love. Your lips are soft, and pliant, and your fingers tighten in his shirt as he deepens the kiss. It's even better than he imagined, and he's spent hours imagining it.

He doesn't care that anyone could see you. He doesn't care about the mission, or the bugs, or the fact that the others are waiting for you. He only cares about you, and the way you feel in his arms.

"Wrecker," you mumble, breaking the kiss.

"Hm?"

"We should go," you remind him, your voice soft.

"Right," he says, "just one more."

"One more," you agree.

Your lips are on his again, and it's just as good as the first time. Wrecker doesn't want to stop, and he doesn't, not until his comm buzzes, and his brother's voice rings out in his ear.

"Wrecker, status report. We need an update."

Wrecker groans, pulling away from you. "Tech, not a good time."

"Now is precisely the time," his brother replies, sounding exasperated. "What is the status of the mission?"

Wrecker glances at you, and you look back up at him with a soft smile on your swollen lips. You reach up, cupping his cheek, and the feeling is so comforting and sweet that his chest aches.

"It's good," Wrecker answers, smiling. "The mission is going really good."

"Good?" he hears Hunter repeat. He's not sure if it's confusion or disbelief in his voice. Maybe a little bit of both.

"Great," he corrects, leaning down to kiss you again. "Really, really great."

"Oh," Tech mutters, and Wrecker can hear the gears turning in his head. "I…did not expect that."

Wrecker smiles down at you. "Yeah, well, neither did I."

“I see.” There's a pause, and the sound of shuffling, some muffled voices, and then Tech adds, "In that case, we will let you get back to your, ah, mission."

"Thanks, Tech."

"Mhm," his brother hums, sounding a little awkward. "You’re welcome. We'll see you both when you return.”

The comm clicks off, and Wrecker sighs. "Guess we should get back to the ship."

"Yeah, we probably should," you agree, though neither of you move. "Or..."

He perks up. "Or?"

"Or, we could go back to the hotel," you suggest, a playful note in your voice. "We did pay for the night, after all. It would be a shame to waste it."

"A real shame," he nods, his voice grave.

"Besides," you add, your hand sliding down his chest, "we could use the extra time to...discuss the details of the mission. Make sure we're on the same page, and everything."

Wrecker bites back a moan. The feeling of your hand on his chest, and the sound of your voice, and the suggestion in your words, and the glint in your eyes. It's enough to make his knees weak.

"What do you think, ma sareen?"

"I think," he murmurs, kissing your neck, "that's the best idea I've ever heard."

The two of you barely make it through the door.

As soon as it slides shut behind you, Wrecker’s lips are on yours. His hands haven’t left your hips since you entered the elevator. He guides you backwards, his hands roaming across your back and sides. His teeth scrape against your bottom lip, and the sound you make sends a rush of heat straight to his cock.

Your back hits the wall next to the door, and Wrecker lifts you up, wedging a thigh between your legs. The dress is riding up, and his hand slips under it, and he's never been more grateful for Tech's insistence on getting a hotel room.

His tongue slides across the roof of your mouth, and he swallows the gasp that leaves your lips. Your nails dig into his shoulders, and you roll your hips, grinding against his thigh. The sound that leaves his mouth is embarrassingly needy as his hand moves higher, squeezing the soft flesh. Your knife has been safely returned to its holster, and his fingers run along the strap.

He wants to take his time with you, to make sure you know how he feels, but he can't stop touching you. You’re so soft, and he's been wanting to do this for so long, and the dress makes it so easy to find new places to explore.

"Wrecker," you whimper, arching against him.

He nips at your neck, and the soft whine that escapes your throat makes his knees weak. His hand squeezes the back of your leg, and his mouth travels lower, his teeth dragging across your collarbone.

"You look so fuckin' good in this," he tells you, his lips brushing the swell of your breasts. "Drivin' me crazy."

"Yeah?" you ask, reaching up to loosen his tie.

"Yeah," he grunts. He leans down, pressing his mouth to the tops of your breasts. You make a soft noise, and he smiles, his hand slipping up your thigh and pushing the hem of the dress higher. "Been thinkin' about taking it off all night.”

"Well, why don't you, then?"

Wrecker pulls away, and you look up at him, your eyes half-lidded and dark. Your cheeks are flushed, and your chest is rising and falling, and you look so fucking gorgeous, he can't stand it.

He doesn't respond. His lips find yours again, and he pushes your skirt up higher, his hands bunching the smooth fabric. He tries his best to be gentle, but it's hard. The thought of ripping the dress from your body, tearing it off and tossing it to the side is appealing, but he won't. It's not his to ruin, and he doesn't want to make you mad.

"This okay?" he asks, breaking the kiss.

"Yeah," you answer, nodding. Your hands join his, and together you pull the dress over your head, and toss it aside.

He nearly drops you.

He doesn't, but it's a close thing.

"You—oh, fuck," he groans, his head falling to the crook of your neck, "you weren't wearin' anythin' underneath?"

You let out a breathless laugh, and the feeling of it makes his head spin.

"Surprised?"

"Uh, yeah."

He's not sure what to say, or what to do.

The only thing he can think about is the way your bare pussy is pressed against his thigh. Your nails drag across his scalp, and he shudders. He’s pretty sure his brain is short-circuiting, because all he can do is stare at you.

Your makeup is messy, your headpiece a little crooked, and your chest is rising and falling in short, shallow breaths, and you're looking up at him with a smirk that makes him want to drop to his knees and worship you.

"What's wrong?" you ask, tilting his chin up. "You can't talk now?"

Wrecker grunts. You're teasing him, and he can't even pretend he doesn't like it. He likes it too much.

"You're not playin' fair," he complains, his voice gruff.

"No?"

"Nope."

"Well, neither are you," you say, rolling your hips. The motion drags your pussy across his thigh, and the dampness on his skin has him groaning. You lean forward, your mouth next to his ear. "So, what are you gonna do about it?"

He growls, and you gasp as his hands slide down, grabbing your ass. He hoists you up, putting your chest level with his face.

"Gonna show you," he rasps, "just how much you drive me crazy."

He's never seen anything hotter than the way you're looking at him right now, and he's not sure he ever will. He doesn’t want to close his eyes, doesn’t want to blink, but he can’t help it when his tongue darts out and his lips close around one of your nipples.

The soft sound that escapes your mouth makes his cock throb, and he presses your back against the wall, holding you up with ease with one hand as the other comes up to fondle your other breast. His tongue is hot and insistent against your skin, and your breath catches in your throat when he drags his teeth across the sensitive flesh.

"Fuck," you hiss, arching into him.

"Told ya you look good," he mumbles. He nips at the swell of your breast, and a moan escapes your lips. "Good enough to eat."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm," he hums. "Can I?"

"Please."

You let out a squeak as he hikes you up further, his lips ghosting over your ribs, and then your sternum, and then the soft swell of your stomach. Your thighs are draped over his shoulders, and his hands are on the backs of your legs, holding them up and apart, and the sight of you above him is almost too much.

"You smell so fuckin' good," he growls, burying his face between your thighs.

You're already wet, and his nose bumps against your clit as he presses his mouth to your pussy. You're so warm, and soft, and when his tongue slides against you, you moan, the sound desperate and needy.

"Shit, Wrecker," you gasp, your hands coming down to grab his head.

"Just relax," he tells you, his tone a little patronizing. "I gotcha, sweetheart."

He dives in, his mouth eager and unrelenting. He licks and sucks and nips at the sensitive skin, and when his tongue pushes inside, you arch your back, rolling your hips. Your thighs squeeze around his head, and the noises that are leaving your lips are sending sparks down his spine.

He does it again, and again, and again, trying to coax more of those sounds from your mouth. He wants to see what he can get you to do, wants to know what makes you cry out, and moan, and scream.

You're trembling above him, and your pussy is so wet, he can feel it running down his chin.  

"Oh, fuck," you curse, and he can't help but grin.

Your hips buck against his face, and he grabs your ass, squeezing the soft flesh. His fingers sink into the plush skin, and he spreads you apart, his tongue circling your clit. You shudder, and your thighs tighten around his head. He can tell you're getting close, and he can't wait to feel you fall apart, to see your face twist in pleasure, and hear his name on your lips.

He's never been good at this. He's always felt a little out of his depth, a little awkward, a little clumsy. But he's learning. He's watching your reactions, listening to the sounds you make, feeling the way your body responds. And he's paying attention, because he wants to be the only person who can make you feel like this.

He knows it's possessive. He knows it's a lot, especially since the two of you haven't talked about what this means. But he doesn't care. Not right now. He just wants you, and he's willing to do whatever it takes to make sure that's what happens.

You're writhing above him, and he can feel the muscles in your thighs tensing as his lips close around your clit. He makes sure he's got a good grip on you with one hand before sliding the other in between your thighs, and he pushes one finger inside you, and then another.

"Wrecker!"

He's pretty sure that's the hottest thing he's ever heard.

He doubles his efforts, his fingers pushing deeper and deeper. He's not even sure if he's hitting the right spot, but from the way you're writhing, and moaning, and cursing, it seems like he's doing something right. Your walls are squeezing his fingers, and he curls them, trying to find the spot that will make you scream.

You do.

Your whole body tenses, your thighs clamping hard around his head, and you throw your head back, crying out. He watches in awe, his eyes wide, and his mouth slack as you come apart above him. He can feel it, can feel your walls tightening, and the rush of heat as you climax, and he can’t resist the urge to press a kiss to the soft, swollen flesh.

"Wrecker," you choke out, your voice cracking, and he knows he's never going to get enough of this. 

He keeps his fingers buried inside of you as he pulls away from the wall. You cling to him, and he carries you over to the bed, lowering you onto the mattress. His fingers slip out of you, and he watches in fascination as you clench around nothing, your body still trembling.

"Fuck," he groans, dropping to his knees and burying his head between your legs again.

You let out a noise of surprise, and his hands push your thighs open, keeping them spread wide.

"You did so good, sweetheart," he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your swollen lips. He licks you clean, his tongue swiping through your folds. You squirm, and his grip on you tightens. "Gonna make you come again."

"Oh," you whimper, letting out a shaky breath.

"Just breathe, cyar'ika," he tells you, his lips trailing up your inner thigh. He can't get enough of the taste of you, or the way your body is reacting. You're still shaking, and the knowledge that it's because of him is making him delirious. He's pretty sure this is the best night of his life.

"I'm gonna make you feel good," he says, his voice soft and low. "I promise."

"You always make me feel good, Wrecker," you whisper.

"Yeah?"

"Mhm," you hum, nodding. "Always."

Wrecker grins and leans back, shoving his suit jacket off his shoulders. He's not sure where you want him, or how far you want to take things, but he's happy to follow your lead. He’s happy to do this all night, every night, for the rest of his life, if you asked.

He unbuttons the cuffs of his shirt and rolls up the sleeves, his eyes never leaving you. You're looking up at him, your cheeks flushed, your chest rising and falling. He can't believe he gets to see you like this, so vulnerable and trusting.

"What is it?" you ask with a tilt of your head. The motion moves your lekku, and Wrecker's gaze follows. He's fascinated by the way they shift, and sway, and twitch. He wonders what they feel like, if you’ll let him touch them, if they're as sensitive as he's heard.

"Nothin'," he answers, shrugging.

"Liar."

"No, really," he says. Then, a grin spreads across his face, and he can't help himself, "I just like lookin' at ya."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm."

"What about me do you like looking at, ma sareen?"

"Everything," he tells you, and the sincerity in his voice seems to catch you off guard. "Everythin' about you. You're gorgeous, and I'm lucky as hell."

"Wrecker, you're not just saying that, are you?"

"Never," he promises, "not when it comes to you."

You bite your lip, and the way your teeth sink into the plump flesh sends a rush of heat through him.

"You're too good to me," you mumble, a fondness in your eyes that makes his heart swell.

"Could never be too good to you," he replies quickly, shaking his head. He pushes his sleeves up to his elbows and leans back down, kissing the curve of your stomach.

"Wrecker," you sigh, your hands settling on his shoulders, "you're such a gentleman."

"A gentleman?" He laughs, his forehead resting against your hip.

"Mhm," you hum.

He glances up at you, his brows raised. "Sweetheart, I've had my face between your legs for the past fifteen minutes, and you're tellin' me I'm a gentleman?"

"Maybe I like a man who knows how to treat me," you suggest.

"Yeah?"

"Mhm."

Wrecker chuckles, and then he kisses the top of your mound, and then the crease of your thigh, and then your knee. You make a soft noise, and his eyes flick back to your face.

"So, do you still want me to keep treatin' you?" he asks, and if the words come out a little nervous, he can't help it.

"Of course," you say, a hint of surprise in your voice, as if you can't believe he would think otherwise. You smile sweetly, and the weight in his chest lifts. "I want everything with you, Wrecker. Always."

"Good," he sighs, the tension leaving his body. "Because I want everythin', too."

Your head falls back against the pillows, your hands slipping from his shoulders to his head. You pull him closer, and he's more than happy to follow your lead.

"Then, come on, darling," you murmur, lifting your hips and spreading your legs wider, "give me everything."

Wrecker swallows thickly.

"Yes, ma'am."

His mouth is on you again, and you don't hesitate to let him know how good he's doing. You're not shy, and you're not quiet, and you're not afraid to take what you want.

And, gods, does Wrecker like that.

He's still a little in awe, a little dumbstruck by the fact that this is happening, and that it's not just some fantasy he's making up in his head. This is real, and you're here, and you're enjoying yourself, and the sound of your voice, the way you move, the softness of your body is so fucking overwhelming, it's making him delirious.

He wants to do this every night, for the rest of his life.

Your scent fills his nose, and your taste coats his tongue, and the slick, wet noises his mouth makes as he eats you out are driving him crazy. You're shaking beneath him, and your legs are draped over his shoulders, and your nails are scraping against his scalp. Your heels dig into his back, and his hands move down, holding you steady. He's not stopping until you tell him to, and from the way you're moaning, he doesn't think that's going to be anytime soon.

"You're so fucking hot," he groans, his teeth scraping against your folds. "Gonna make you come again. Gonna get you nice and ready for me."

You whimper, and he knows he's made the right choice.

"Sound good?" he asks, voice muffled by your cunt.

"Mhm," you nod.

"Yeah?"

"Yes," you moan, "yes, please, please, I want you to fuck me."

"Oh, I'm gonna," he growls, his lips brushing against your clit, "but first, I'm gonna make you scream."

He's not sure where he found the confidence, but he doesn't care. He doesn't even notice. He's too busy trying to get you to come for him again. He's licking, and sucking, and kissing, and nibbling, and it's only when you're begging him to fuck you that he finally pulls away for air.

"Not yet," he says, pressing a kiss to the crease of your thigh.

"Please," you whimper, "please, Wrecker, I need it. Need you."

He chuckles, his stubble scratching against the inside of your thigh. "I know, sweetheart, I know. Not yet, though. Just a little more."

He slips two fingers inside you, curling them, and your whole body jolts.

"Wrecker, please, I'm so fucking wet, just—"

"I know," he grins, pumping his fingers in and out of you. Your pussy is soaked, and the sound of him fingering you is obscene. It makes him want to shove his cock into you, to feel how tight and warm you are. "Gettin' you nice and wet for me."

"Don't—don't tease me," you huff, and Wrecker laughs, kissing your clit.

"I'm not," he insists. "Just tryin' to make sure you're ready."

"Ready?"

"Mhm." He pushes his fingers deeper, and he can feel the way your walls are already fluttering, the way your muscles are twitching. You're close, and he can't wait to see what you look like when you fall apart. "Wanna make sure you can take me."

"I can," you assure him, "please, I can."

"I'm gonna make you come again," he says, his voice soft. "And then, when you're all nice and relaxed, and you're beggin' for my cock, that's when I'm gonna fuck you."

"I'm begging now," you whine.

"I know, baby," he murmurs, his tongue pressing flat against your clit. "Be patient. It'll be worth it, I promise."

"Okay," you say, and the sound comes out strangled, like it's hard for you to talk. The way your voice breaks, and your chest rises and falls has him grinning, and he leans down again, his mouth eager and insistent.

"Fuck," you gasp, "oh, fuck, Wrecker, I'm—I'm gonna—"

"Go ahead," he encourages, his voice husky, "lemme see.”

Your head falls back, your whole body trembling as you come for the second time that night. It's even more beautiful than the first, and the way you pull his fingers deeper has him moaning against you. He doesn't stop until you're pushing him away, and even then, he doesn't go far.

Wrecker pulls back, slowly, his eyes on yours. You're breathing heavily, and your cheeks are flushed. Somewhere along the way the headpiece you were wearing had come loose, and it's resting on the pillow next to you. Your eyes are hooded, a dazed look on your face, and you look absolutely gorgeous.

"That was so fucking hot," he tells you, leaning down to press a kiss to your inner thigh.

"Wrecker, that was..." you trail off, letting out a quiet sigh. "I've never come twice that fast before."

"Really?"

You shake your head, laughing breathlessly. "Nope."

"So, I guess I did a good job?"

"Good?" you repeat, looking almost offended. "Darling, it was incredible."

He grins wide and presses a kiss to your stomach. You cup his cheek, and your thumb brushes his lip. It's damp with your arousal, and the realization sends a wave of heat through him.

"I'm just glad I made you feel good," he says.

"Trust me, you did," you assure him, and the earnestness in your voice has his cheeks flushing.

"Glad to hear it," he murmurs. He nips at the underside of your breast, and you whimper.

"Wrecker," you mumble.

"Mhm?"

"Come here."

"Why?"

"Because," you answer, sitting up and grabbing his tie, "I want to kiss you."

He lets out a laugh. "Is that all?"

"No," you say, and the honesty in your tone makes him shiver. You tug on the tie, pulling him towards you until your lips meet in a messy kiss. He's careful not to put his weight on you, keeping most of it on his forearms as he presses closer. Your tongue is hot and insistent against his, and when your teeth scrape his bottom lip, a groan escapes his throat.

"Please," you mumble against his lips. "Please, Wrecker, fuck me."

“Was hoping you’d say that,” he grunts, a smirk on his face.

He kisses you again, and it's rough and needy and a little clumsy. Your hands are roaming across his back, and when they tug on his shirt, he reaches around, pulling the hem out of his pants and working the buttons open.

He doesn't have the patience to undo them all, so he tears the shirt and tie off and tosses them aside. He breathes a sigh of relief at finally being free from the restrictive fabric, only to suck in a sharp breath as your nails scrape his sides. The sensation sends a shiver through him, and he buries his head in the crook of your neck, panting.

You don't let up, your hands exploring the planes and divots of his bare chest. His skin is on fire, and his muscles are flexing beneath your touch. Your mouth finds his neck as your fingers move to undo his belt, and his whole body jolts.

You hum, pleased, and Wrecker knows he's in trouble.

Your teeth sink into his shoulder, and your tongue swipes over the marks, and when you press a kiss to his pulse point, he has to remind himself not to get carried away. He's not even inside you yet, and he's already on the verge of losing control.

"Wrecker, I'm tired of waiting," you whine, your hand sliding under his pants and squeezing his ass. "I need you."

"Shit," he curses, his cock twitching in his boxers. "I need you, too."

"Then, what are you waiting for?"

"Nothin'," he says, sitting up. "Absolutely nothin'."

He gets to his feet, pulling off his shoes and socks faster than he's ever undressed in his life. He shoves his pants and boxers down, and his cock springs free. You let out a quiet noise, and he feels a surge of pride as your eyes move down his body, and widen.

"Oh, Wrecker," you breathe, and the awe in your voice is so fucking satisfying. "You're..."

"Yeah?"

"It's so big," you murmur.

He feels the tips of his ears burn. He knows he's big. He's bigger than most, and he's always been worried about scaring people off.

"Do you think you can handle it?"

"Yeah," you say quickly, nodding.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

He's not convinced. "It's okay if you can't, y'know."

"I know, Wrecker," you answer, sounding amused. "I can handle it."

"I just don't want to hurt you."

"I know. And it's sweet. But if you don't come here and fuck me right now, I'm going to go crazy."

"Well, we can't have that," he mutters, a smile playing on his lips.

He climbs back onto the bed, and you move to meet him halfway, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you kneel together. Your chest presses against his, and you're so warm and soft, and he feels like he's going to melt.

He kisses the tip of your lek, and you let out a squeak, and the sound is so cute, he has to kiss the other one, too. He wants to kiss every part of you, and he plans to, someday. Right now, though, he's got something more important to take care of.

His mouth finds yours, and he cups the back of your neck, holding you still. You're pressed together, skin to skin, and he can feel the heat radiating from your body. Your hands are moving over his shoulders, down his chest, across his stomach, and when your fingers wrap around his cock, his hips buck.

"Fuck," he groans.

You give him a slow, languid stroke, and his eyes nearly roll back.

"You're beautiful," you whisper, your hand moving up and down, spreading precum along his length. You press a kiss to his shoulder, and then his collarbone, and his jaw, and his chin, and his mouth.

"I—ah," he grunts, his forehead falling to rest on yours, "You're kiddin', right?"

"Why would I be kidding?"

"You've got a lot more goin' for ya than me," he replies, his cheeks flushing. "A hell of a lot more."

"Nonsense," you say, shaking your head. Your grip tightens, and his breath catches in his throat. "You're the most beautiful man I've ever seen, and the things I want to do to you are..."

"Are what?"

"I'd rather show you," you admit, and there's something in your voice that makes his heart skip a beat.

"Well, go ahead, then," he encourages, giving you a toothy grin. "Show me."

Wrecker lets out a surprised yelp when you grab his shoulders and push him back, his back hitting the mattress. He laughs, and then you're on top of him, and his laughter dies, his breath coming out in short, shallow gasps.

You're straddling his waist, and the sight of your naked body above him is the most incredible thing he's ever seen. His hands move on their own, running across your thighs, your hips, and your ribs.

"This is a good look for you," you say, smirking.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Mhm."

You lean down and kiss him, and he can't help the way his hands wander, one moving up to squeeze your ass, and the other finding your breast. He can't get enough of you, and he doesn't know if he ever will. He squeezes, and rolls, and fondles, and when his thumb brushes your nipple, you break the kiss with a soft moan. You pull away, and he chases after you, his lips pressing against yours.

"Wrecker, stop," you giggle, swatting his hand away.

"I can't help it," he tells you, leaning up and pressing a kiss to your neck. "You're too kriffin' sexy."

"I need you inside me," you say, pushing his shoulders back. "And I'm not going to be able to get there if you keep distracting me."

"Alright," he sighs, falling back against the mattress. "Go ahead, I'll be patient."

"Good boy."

His eyes go wide, and his cock throbs at the words. He knows he likes being praised, and he's not ashamed to admit that, but the way it makes him react is almost embarrassing.

"Oh," you grin, and the mischief in your eyes has his heart racing. "You like that?"

"Yeah," he nods, his cheeks flushing.

"What else do you like?" you ask, leaning forward and grinding against him.

He swallows thickly. "Um."

"Wrecker," you say softly, and his eyes dart up to yours.

"I—" he stammers, his gaze flicking back down to your cunt. "I, uh—you know, I've never really had anyone ask me that before."

"Well, consider this the first time," you tell him, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Tell me."

"Uh."

"Come on," you urge, kissing the other side, "tell me what you like."

"I like makin' you feel good," he blurts out. "I like it rough, I like bein' told what to do. I like knowin' I'm doin' a good job. And I like you, so—so just...tell me how you feel, or somethin', and I'll be happy."

"I can work with that."

You sit up, and the motion brings your pussy closer to his cock. He watches with wide eyes as you raise yourself up and guide his cock between your folds, the tip brushing against your entrance. His hips twitch, and his hands come up to grip your waist, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your skin.

"Kriff, you're gorgeous," he breathes, his eyes on the place where his cock is just barely penetrating you. "You're amazing."

"So are you," you reply.

He's not sure he agrees, but he doesn't have time to argue, because you're sinking down onto him, and his brain stops working.

You let out a quiet sigh, and Wrecker tries his best to keep his composure, but the wet, hot, tightness is too much. His hands tighten, his fingers digging into your sides before he realizes what he's doing. He relaxes his grip, his palms sliding across your skin, his eyes still on where your bodies are joined.

"Shit, sweetheart, I'm sorry, I just—"

"Don't apologize," you interrupt, your hips shifting, and his cock pushes a little deeper.

"I can't help it," he huffs, "I don't wanna hurt you."

"You're not hurting me," you promise, one hand settling on his chest. The other takes his hand, and you lift it up to your mouth, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. "I'll tell you if you are, alright? So, don't worry. Just relax."

"Okay," he nods, taking a deep breath. "I can do that."

"Good boy," you praise, and Wrecker feels a wave of heat crash through him.

Your hips shift, and you sink down another inch. He lets out a shaky breath, his fingers curling into a fist. Your mouth is hot and insistent against his knuckles, your tongue swiping over the sensitive skin. You kiss his fingertips, and then his palm, and then the back of his hand. You nip at the fleshy part beneath his thumb, and he hisses, the sensation sending sparks up his arm.

"Fuck," he groans, and his hips buck, and his cock slides a little further inside.

"You're so big," you murmur, your hand sliding up his arm and over his chest. Your nails scrape his skin, and he trembles. "So fucking big, Wrecker."

"Yeah?"

You nod, your mouth open, and your cheeks flushed. Your eyes are a little glassy, and your breathing is shallow, and he can't believe how lucky he is to be here, with you, in this moment.

"I'm gonna—gonna make you feel good," he promises, and you laugh, your walls fluttering around him.

"Oh, darling," you sigh, lifting your hips and sinking back down, taking him a little deeper, "you already are."

His eyes squeeze shut, and his grip on you tightens. He tries to remember to breathe, and not to buck his hips, and not to pull you down and bury himself to the hilt. You're still kissing his hand, and the softness of your lips has him melting, his shoulders falling back against the bed.

"Look at me, ma sareen," you murmur.

Wrecker does.

The sight that greets him nearly sends him over the edge. You're hovering above him, his cock buried inside you, your lekku dangling in the space between your bodies. The lights in the room are dim, but the glow is bright enough to highlight the curve of your breasts, the swell of your hips, and the way your skin seems to shimmer.

You're breathtaking.

"You're amazin'," he says again, because he doesn't have anything better to say.

"You're so sweet," you chuckle, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I love that about you."

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

You kiss him again, and his mouth opens under yours. He groans when you bite his bottom lip, his hands moving to your hips, guiding your movements. You roll your hips, and his cock slips out of you, before sliding back in. You do it again, and again, and again, until the tip of his cock nudges against the end of your channel.

"Oh, shit," you gasp, sitting up, and bracing your hands against his stomach. "Oh, gods, Wrecker, you're—you're so fucking deep."

"Does it feel good?"

"So fucking good," you whimper.

He sits up and wraps his arms around you, holding you close. He can feel the tips of your lekku resting on his chest, and they're even softer than he imagined. He presses a kiss to the base of one, and then the other, and then he's kissing your neck, his stubble scratching against your skin.

"Ah," you sigh, your hips rocking. "Wrecker, fuck, it feels so good."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm."

"Good," he growls, and then he grabs your ass and pulls you down onto his cock.

You let out a surprised cry, and then you're moving faster, grinding down on his length. He thrusts up, his hips meeting yours. Your hands are everywhere, roaming across his back, his shoulders, and his chest. You're not shy about it, and you don't hold back. You squeeze, and stroke, and touch every part of him, and it's making him dizzy.

"Fuck, you feel so good," you moan, and Wrecker grunts, his teeth scraping the base of your lekku. "So fucking good, Wrecker."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm," you hum, and then you're pulling away, and his chest aches at the loss. You push him back against the pillows, and he stares up at you, his lips parted as you ride him, bouncing up and down. Your hands are planted on his chest, and your nails are digging into his skin.

He watches in awe as you take him, his cock disappearing between your legs. No one's ever taken him like this, no one's ever been able to handle him the way you are. You're not afraid, and you're not shy, and you're not afraid to get what you want.

"You're kriffin' perfect," he says, and then he's reaching for you, his hands cupping your face.

Wrecker kisses you, and the sound that leaves your throat is so needy, and desperate, that he can't help but thrust up into you, harder and faster. His tongue slides into your mouth, and you suck on it, drawing a groan from his chest. He's trying to hold on, to last as long as he can, but it's not easy. Not when you're riding him like this, and making him feel like this.

You pull away with a gasp and bury your face in his neck, and the warmth of your breath makes him shiver. He can't see your face, but he can feel the way you're shaking, can hear the quiet noises you're making.

"You like that?" he asks, his voice rough.

"So much," you whine.

"Gonna come for me?"

"Yes, please, yes," you whimper.

"Gonna scream for me?"

"Oh, Wrecker," you moan, your teeth sinking into his shoulder, and the pain goes straight to his cock. "Wrecker, you're making me—I'm so close, please, harder."

He doesn't hesitate to follow your orders.

He lifts his legs, spreading them wider, and you slide a little further down his length. His hips snap up, and your whole body jolts. The first slap of skin against skin has him groaning, and the second has him cursing, and by the time his balls are slapping against your ass, you're begging him not to stop.

He's not sure he could, even if he wanted to. He thrusts again, and again, his pace building. Your cunt is dripping, the wetness seeping from your entrance, and the lewd squelching sound fills the room.

His hand cups the back of your head, holding you close. You nuzzle against his shoulder, your lips pressed to his collarbone, and the sensation is so fucking intimate, so sweet, he's not sure how much longer he's going to be able to hold out.

"Sweetheart," he grunts, and he doesn't have the words to continue, doesn't know how to tell you he's going to come, doesn't want this to end.

"You're so good," you whisper, and he can feel his balls tightening, "so fucking good, Wrecker."

"Can I—I'm gonna come," he warns.

"Oh, fuck, me, too."

"Where—where do you want me?"

"Inside," you whine, and Wrecker has to grit his teeth to keep from coming on the spot. "Wrecker, inside, please, fill me up, I want it, want you."

"Shit," he groans, "fuck, fuck, sweetheart, you're—oh, shit, I'm—"

Your body goes stiff, your walls fluttering around his cock, and his mouth falls open. He's not prepared for the feeling of your pussy gripping his length, or the sound of your breathy moans. He's not prepared for the way your thighs tremble, or the way your back arches, or the way his name spills from your lips.

He's not prepared for the orgasm that crashes over him, the heat and the pleasure that rushes through his veins, and the way his whole body shudders as he comes inside you.

He can't remember the last time he came this hard, the last time he lost control like this. The feeling of your cunt around him is too much, and his head falls back, his eyes squeezing shut. The only thing that keeps him tethered to reality is the sound of your voice in his ear, a string of words in a language he doesn’t understand falling from your lips.

Wrecker holds you, his arms wrapping around you, and his hips buck, his cock twitching. He can't get enough, can't stop coming, can't stop fucking up into you. Your moans are soft, and gentle, and it's not until his own climax has subsided that he realizes you’re slumped against him, your breathing heavy, your face pressed to his neck.

"Shit, sorry, cyar'ika," he mutters as he realizes his grip has tightened. He moves to pull his hands away, but you reach out, taking his wrists and placing his hands back on your waist.

"No," you whimper, "please."

"Sweetheart, I'm hurtin' you."

"Just a little longer," you tell him, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the base of his throat.

He's not sure why, but the request brings tears to his eyes. You want him. You want him to hold you, and touch you, and the realization makes his heart swell.

"Alright," he agrees, and you sigh and nestle closer.

He lays there, his softening cock still buried inside you, his arms around you, and his fingers find their way to your lekku. He strokes them gently, and you shiver, your body trembling.

"Is this okay?" he asks.

"Yes," you answer, your voice barely above a whisper. "It feels nice."

"Good," he says, smiling. "I like touchin' you."

"I can tell," you laugh and press a kiss to his chest.

He continues, his fingertips tracing a path down the side of one, and then the other. He doesn't know how much time passes. He's lost in the feeling of you, in the warmth of your body, in the softness of your skin. He doesn't even realize his eyes are closed until he hears you laughing.

"What?" Wrecker asks, opening his eyes and looking down at you.

"Are you asleep?"

"No," he answers, shaking his head, though the blush on his face gives him away. "I was just restin' my eyes."

"You sure?" you ask, and there's a teasing tone in your voice.

"I'm sure," he says, and then you're pulling away. His arms drop, and his cock slips out of your cunt, and his mouth falls open. Your combined release is leaking out of you, dripping down his cock and onto his stomach.

"Wow," he breathes.

"Is it a bad 'wow' or a good 'wow'?" you ask, your teeth sinking into your lower lip.

"The good kind," he answers, his eyes roaming over your body before returning to your face. His brows furrow. "Can I kiss you?"

"Wrecker, you don't have to ask," you tell him.

"Well, um," he starts, his cheeks turning pink. "It's just, I'm not really good at this part."

"What part?"

"The after part," he tells you. "I mean, it's always been, you know, in the dark, or quick, and I don't know how you feel about kissing and cuddlin' after, and I just...I dunno, I just like you, and I want to do it right."

"Oh, Wrecker," you laugh, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I like kissing and cuddling."

"You do?"

"I do," you nod, a smile on your face. "There's nothing more I'd rather do than kiss you, and cuddle with you, and hold you, and fall asleep with you. That is, if you'll have me."

"Oh.” He blinks. "Yeah, um, I'd like that a lot."

"Then, by all means, darling," you tell him, "kiss me."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm," you nod, grinning. "Please."

Wrecker leans forward, his hand cupping your cheek, and he presses his lips to yours. He licks into your mouth, his tongue sliding against yours, and the soft moan that leaves your lips makes his heart soar.

"You're incredible," he breathes, and the smile on your face is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

"You are too," you murmur, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "I hope that was everything you were hoping for."

"It was even better," he says, his hand moving down and resting on your hip. "Can we do it again?"

"Right now?" you ask, and he can't help but laugh.

"I was thinkin' tomorrow, maybe," he tells you, his thumb stroking your skin. "I'm gonna be honest, sweetheart, I don't think I'm gonna be able to go again for a while."

"Me either," you reply, laughing.

"But," he starts, his grip on your waist tightening, "when I am, you want to?”

"Of course," you tell him, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his neck. "I have some other ideas I'd like to run by you, if you're interested."

"I'm very interested." He grins. "Lets get cleaned up, and then you can tell me all about ‘em.”

"Mm," you whine, burying your face in the crook of his neck. “But I don’t want to move.”

“Not a problem,” he replies, and before you can say anything, he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you against him. You squeal, your legs wrapping around his waist, and he slides off the bed, holding you against him.

"Wrecker, put me down," you giggle.

"You're the one who didn't want to move," he reminds you.

"Put me down," you say, but your voice is full of laughter, and you’re smiling.

"No," he teases, shaking his head.

"Wrecker," you sigh, rolling your eyes.

"Sweetheart," he replies, mimicking your tone. “I’m a gentleman, remember? And a gentleman always carries his girl to the shower."

"In that case," you murmur, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face against his throat, "thank you, sir."

He walks toward the refresher, his arm wrapped tightly around your waist, and his chest is bursting with pride. You're smiling, and laughing, and holding onto him, and it feels like a dream.

Wrecker sits you on the edge of the counter, and you wince, a soft hiss leaving your lips.

"You okay?"

"Just a little sore," you admit.

"Shit," he curses. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No, no," you shake your head, your hand finding his wrist and squeezing. "It's a good sore, I promise. You were wonderful."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Mhm," you nod, biting your lip. "Best I've ever had."

He laughs. "That can't be true."

"Well, it is," you tell him, and he can see the sincerity in your eyes. "I mean, I've never felt anything like it."

He smiles, leaning down and pressing his forehead against yours. You reach up, your fingertips brushing against his cheek, and he turns, kissing the palm of your hand.

"You're not just sayin' that, are ya?" he asks.

"Why would I?"

"I dunno," he admits.

"Wrecker," you sigh, your thumb brushing across his lower lip, "it's been a long time since I've felt anything for anyone. The truth is, I've had a crush on you for months. You're sweet, and kind, and funny, and the things you did tonight...the way you made me feel, the way you treated me...I've never felt so safe. Or special.”

"It was nothin'," he says, his cheeks flushing.

"It wasn't nothing," you insist, and he knows the look in your eyes means you're not going to let it go. "You made me feel beautiful, and wanted, and cared for, and I'll never be able to thank you enough for that. And it's going to take a lot more than a rough fuck to get rid of me."

"Yeah?" he breathes.

"Yes," you say, pressing a kiss to his chin.

"Okay," he nods. "So, we're gonna try this, huh?"

"Do you want to?"

"Are you kidding me? Of course I do," he laughs, his hands coming to rest on your thighs. "I just didn't want to push."

"Well, consider this your official invitation," you tell him, your hands sliding down and squeezing his biceps. "I'm all yours."

"All mine, huh?"

"Yep."

"Good," he nods, and then he's scooping you back up and carrying you toward the shower. "Because I'm all yours, too."

"Even better," you laugh, and the sound is like music to his ears.

Wrecker kisses you again, his hands gripping your thighs, and your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer. You smile against his lips, and he can't help the grin that spreads across his face. He's not sure how this happened. He's not sure why you picked him. But he doesn't care.

All he cares about is the feeling of your lips against his, and the sound of your laughter filling the room. All he cares about is the taste of your mouth, and the warmth of your skin, and the way his chest swells every time you look at him.

He doesn't know where this is going, or how far it will go, but he knows one thing.

He wants it. All of it. With you.

Translation: ma sareen = Ryl for "my sweet"

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia

@spicy-clones @kindalonleystars @cw80831 @totallyunidentified @heidnspeak

@lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @puppetscenario

@umekohiganbana @resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano

@burningnerdchild @ihatesaaand @lolwey @hobbititties @mere-bear

@thegreatpipster @lordofthenerds97 @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @mali-777

@schrodingersraven @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon @dreamie411 @sukithebean

@bimboshaggy @anything-forourmoony @9902sgirl @jedi-dreea @salaminus

The Bad Batch/ Mayday/Rex x Reader Prompts – Confessions

Part 5/7 - Wrecker

Warnings: Hurt/Angst/Comfort/Fluff/Love Confessions

Masterlist

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

This is a continuation of this request :

The Bad Batch/ Mayday/Rex x Reader Prompts – Confessions

Wrecker

Wrecker is actually very open and easy to talk to. He is neither particularly reserved nor aloof. Nevertheless, you haven't yet dared to tell him openly how much you like him. You feel that he might like you as much as you like him, but you're not sure. The thought that you could open up to him and be wrong keeps you from confessing your deep affection for him. You are startled out of your thoughts when you hear a familiar, beloved sound; Wrecker's rumbling laughter. Apparently he's been playing a trick on Crosshair again, because the Sniper runs past you, jaws grinding, curses coming from between clenched teeth. Wrecker appears on the ramp, laughing and calling after his brother, “Come on, it was just a harmless joke” Crosshair keeps walking and growls, “Go to hell” You giggle and ask, “Oh Wrecker, what have you done again?” Your heart skips a beat as his attention turns to you, and you see his mischievous smile. “Can't you smell that?”

You blink in confusion and draw your brows together critically, but then you smell it, a very intense floral scent suddenly seems to be in the air, a scent that Crosshair seems to be dragging behind him. You laugh softly, “You've replaced his aftershave with what seems to me to be a very intense, rather feminine scent” Wrecker grins from ear to ear. You sigh softly and say gently reprovingly, “Wrecker, Cross has a date today, as far as I know he really likes the person he's going out with and if he doesn't want to be late, he won't have time to get rid of the wrong scent” “Oh,” says Wrecker a little sheepishly, “that's why he's so angry” You think this could be a brilliant segue, and with your heart suddenly racing, you ask, “Speaking of dates, how about the two of us?” The moment you say the words, you want to sink into the ground. That was far too blunt, too direct, and you actually wanted to say something completely different. But it just slipped out of you. Wrecker's reaction doesn't really help. At first, he just stares at you, perplexed; it's a long, uncomfortably silent moment, and you feel like you're frozen in motion, unable to even change your expression, which is terrible, because you feel like there's a stupid, nervous grin on your lips.

Suddenly, Wrecker bursts out laughing, pats you on the back and continues on his way. “That was a good one!” he says with a rumbling laugh. A humorless little laugh escapes your lips: “Hahaha, yeah, hilarious” You watch Wrecker disappear around the corner. You let your shoulders slump with a sigh. This is not at all what you had in mind. Discouraged, you hang your head. It's not a nice feeling that's spreading through your chest right now. Tech's voice suddenly snaps you out of your gloomy thoughts. “Judging by your body language, you're either very tired or very unhappy” You turn to him, startled, and pull your shoulders back up. With raised eyebrows, Tech comments, “Now you're trying to pretend. You were probably about to tell me you were just a bit tired. Am I right?” Tech had started to learn more about posture some time ago, to read between the lines. However, he still did this in his very direct way every time. When you don't answer him, he asks, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

You shrug your shoulders. You would actually like to talk to someone about it, but you're not sure if Tech is the right person to talk to. Nevertheless, you put him in the picture, explaining that Wrecker has either misunderstood you or is not interested in you or a date with you. “It's easy to find out,” says Tech almost cheerfully with a small, satisfied smile, because he's sure he has the solution to your problem. “Oh yeah?” you ask cautiously. The next moment your heart almost stops, because Wrecker is back outside on the landing platform and Tech calls him over to you, “Wrecker, why don't you come and join us for a moment?” You don't have time to object or to make a hasty escape without making a fuss, so you stand rooted to the spot. “What's up?” Wrecker asks happily, glancing from one to the other. Tech says before you can think of anything appropriate to say, “There's been a misunderstanding between you two that needs to be resolved” Wrecker looks at you, puzzled. “Oh yeah?”

You clear your throat and want to say something, but Tech beats you to it again. “When you were asked for a date earlier, it was a serious question” You feel like your heart is going to stop at any moment. Wrecker looks so surprised and confused that you can't even guess where this is going. “Really?” he asks, looking at you. You're so nervous that you don't trust your own voice and just nod. Tech, pleased with himself, pushes his goggles up the bridge of his nose with his index finger and says, “I think my work here is done. You're welcome.” Wrecker and you watch Tech for a moment as he goes his way. It takes you a while to look nervously at each other. He grins cautiously at you, scratches the back of his head nervously and stammers, “The night's supposed to be starry tonight, we could have a picnic on the mountain, look at the stars.” “Is that an invitation to a date?” you ask with a slowly widening smile. Wrecker shrugs his shoulders a little helplessly, “Yeah, sure. Do you like that sort of thing?”

“I like everything I can do with you,” you say, beaming. Wrecker beams back and says enthusiastically, “Then we'll do the picnic tonight, take candles and stuff. And on the weekend we could go to the fair!”

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@allsystemsblue

@palliateclaw

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@extrahotpixels

@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

@malicemercy

@bebopsworld

@echos-girlfriend

@cpnt616

@dangraccoon

@jediknightjana

@pb-jellybeans

@antishadow2021

@sleepycreativewriter

@projectdreamwalker

@1vlouds

@clonelovr

@ivyyyyy

Calling All Skeletons | Chapter 3: Honest Interaction

Notes: A shorter chapter! I didn't want to overload information in this chapter, so I'm dividing it up. Hope you all enjoy some Doc lore (feat. Crosshair).

Word Count: ~1.6k

Banner by: @/blackseafoam

Doc held her cup with both hands, sitting across from Wrecker, Tech, Echo, and Omega. The atmosphere of the parlor was quiet. Only the five of them were seated around a small table, blue lights dimly glowing from the bar.

“Where do I even start?” She hummed, her fingers tapping the sides of her glass. “I’m not going to give you my life story, but I was on Naboo’s Security Force before I joined the Galactic Army. I was mainly trained as a doctor and learned how to do countless procedures on Naboo.” She set her cup down and placed her blaster on the table, “They taught me how to defend myself.”

The bunch of clones listened and watched Doc closely, taking in every piece of information. Tech adjusted his goggles, looking at her blaster then to Doc, “If you’re trained specially for medical practice, what would the Empire want with you? Besides being on standby as a medic, I don’t see a reason why they’d seek you out as a soldier.”

Doc chuckled softly, “Yeah, you would think I’m just some doctor, right?” She crossed her arms as she leaned back into her chair, “I can shoot, I can fight, and I can doctor. I’m good in tense situations, and the Empire liked my enthusiasm,” she smiled faintly, “When I got an offer, I took it and knew I was going to be helping people across the galaxy instead of a singular planet.” Her lips turned down as she glanced away from the batch, “After months of training, I was sent on my first mission with the Elite Squad. To Onderon.”

A shuttle flew through the stars and vast space. From the inside, only a red light illuminated the area and the Elite Squad.

“Why would they put him in charge?”

The soldiers stood in the shuttle with their clone commander, Crosshair. Four of the squad members remained quiet while ES-01 expressed his complaint. Doc, being one of the four, looked over to ES-01, head tilted.

Crosshair narrowed his eyes, “Problem?”

“Considering our commander has more experience than any of us, it only makes sense for him to be our commander,” Doc interrupted, “You should be respecting him and the efforts he made along with all other clones during the clone wars.” She looked to Crosshair before quickly darting her eyes away, “Apologies Commander.”

Sharing eye contact with Doc, Crosshair’s expression remained the same. He didn’t respond to her at all, yet there was a familiar silence between them.

ES-01 rolled his eyes, ignoring Doc, “Tell me this, clone,” he started as he eyed his commander, “If you all are so efficient, how come the Empire’s scouting soldiers like us?”

Doc furrowed her brows, “It’s giving a job to people like you and me. It’s allowing the clones to train us and rest-“

“ES-05, they were made to be in war! The Empire is obviously done with clones,” ES-01 snapped, facing away, “Sounds to me like it’s time for a change.”

Doc rolled her eyes, disengaging from the conversation. Meanwhile, Crosshair glued his intimidating glare to his argumentative squad-member.

“Enjoy being commander,” ES-01 smirked, “For now. We’ll see how things shake out.”

A tense and awkward silence fell on the squad. This lasted until the shuttle landed at their destination, each member taking their positions with Crosshair’s guide. They started to move in on the targets, Doc’s blaster at the ready and stationed further back. She watched the so-called insurgents from behind her squad and her eyes widened. She lowered her blaster slowly. These weren’t insurgents, but they had to be the target.

“ES-05, move up.”

Doc snapped back to reality at Crosshair’s command, swallowing, “Yes,” she hesitated, “Commander.” She moved forward as told. She lifted her blaster at the targets shakily, eyeing each individual. This is wrong. This isn’t right.

Crosshair led the blast fire, taking out Saw Gerrera’s fighters like light work. Each of the other squad-members followed their commander as they shot at each believed soldier. Doc’s hand shook as she watched the bloodshed and falling of people before her. Each shot she fired intended to miss, only to say that she was technically following orders. She watched as one went to pilot the vehicle and make their escape. She watched. Hopeful.

A blast shot through the pilot’s chest. The transport dropped to the ground immediately.

Her heart sank to the pit of her stomach as the scene replayed in her head. Doc’s eyes stung with tears as she looked to her commander and squad-mates as they moved in on the innocents. Each step she took with her squad was heavy, begging her to turn away.

The targets spilled out of the transport, knowing they had nowhere else to go. One of Gerrera’s fighters glared at the squad as she threw her weapon down to approach Crosshair.

Holding a gun to her chest, Crosshair pressed, “Where’s Gerrera?”

“I don’t know. But I wouldn’t tell you if I did-”

A bolt fires through her chest.

Crosshair stands over her body as it falls, holstering his gun, “I believe you.”

The medic turned her head away from the scene. Her eyes shut tight at the sound of the blaster firing, tears threatening their escape.

Her commander continued with his interrogation as he walked to the other individuals, “Do any of you have any information you’d like to share?”

A couple huddled close together, the human man speaking, “We don’t know anything,” he quickly assured, “We were promised transport off world, that’s all.”

“Then you’re of no use to the Empire,” Crosshair snarled as he aimed his gun at the couple.

“What are you doing?” ES-01 interjected, “Gerrera’s fighters are dead. These are civilians.”

Doc shook her head, clearing her throat, “They aren’t a threat to us or the Empire.”

“Right,” ES-01 straightened his posture, “We should bring them in.”

Crosshair turned to his squad, “Those weren’t our orders.” His voice was sharp.

“Forget our orders! This is wrong,” ES-01 looked over to the civilians, attempting to advocate for them. Even if it’s just to give them another day to fight and live.

Doc placed her blaster on her hip. She couldn’t go through with it. She wouldn’t.

“So, you’re not going to comply?” Crosshair threatened as he leaned in close to ES-01.

“No. None of us are,” ES-01 answered directly as he turned to his squad-mates, “Ignore the clone. We signed up to be soldiers, not an execution squad.”

The rest of the squad listened closely to ES-01. Doc, moving in closer to listen to her companion, readied herself to do what was necessary to avoid any more death than there had to be. That was until Crosshair interrupted ES-01’s plans.

“You want to know why they put me in charge?”

Doc and her squad turned towards their commander, listening to see what he had to say. The medic’s stomach churned at his words.

“It’s because I’m willing to do what needs to be done,” Crosshair quickly drew his blaster, shooting directly into ES-01’s chest.

There wasn’t a moment to turn away or stop him before it happened. Doc couldn’t hold back her gasp. Immediately, she dropped to the ground beside ES-01 as she pulled her bag off to search for supplies.

“Leave him,” the commander pointed his blaster at Doc as he snarled.

“’Good soldiers follow orders,’” Doc repeated the words Crosshair said to her. The memory of the cold and unforgiving stare and tone remained with her, “Those civilians never stood a chance. I should’ve run away and taken the ship then and there, but I froze.”

The "bad" batch of clones were all together at the table with Omega as Doc told her story. Their faces all deep in thought of the situation. Knowing Crosshair all this time to suddenly knowing nothing about him shook their cores. How could he do this? If only his chip hadn’t activated Order 66.

A silence loomed over the bunch as Doc finished her retelling of events. Omega looked down, thinking to herself, before fixing her gaze on the medic and moving closer to her. She placed a hand on her arm, looking at the table, “His behavior isn’t his fault. Clones have inhibiter chips that influence their behaviors.”

Doc’s brows furrowed, “Then why do all of you act reasonably?”

“We are defective clones,” Tech answered, “Our chips seem to have malfunctioned when Order 66 was given. Except for Crosshair’s...” His eyes moved to look at the ground. His brothers shared a similar expression to him, panged by the actions of Crosshair.

Glancing to Omega and then to the men before her, Doc could feel their grief. They lost their brother to the Empire. More than anything she lost to them. “I’m so sorry,” her eyes soften, “I’m sure he was a great brother to you all.”

Wrecker’s eyes found Doc’s after she spoke. His lips barely curved a woeful smile, acknowledging her words.

Hunter thought through her story, eventually standing up as he spoke, “Crosshair’s actions were his choice to make, even if influenced by the chip.” He sighed heavily as he crossed his arms, “There was nothing we could do about it,” he looked to Doc, “But if you have nowhere else to go, the least we can do is help you and make things right.”

“And I’ll do anything I can to help you all,” Doc’s mouth shone a small smile, “Running from the Empire is no joke.”

Echo scoffed a short chuckle, “Yeah, you can say that again.”

Omega jumped up from her seat, clasping Doc’s hand in both of hers, “So, that means you’re going to stay?”

The medic stood up as she shared a smile with Omega, “For the time being, yes.” She looked to Hunter, “On a different note, what did Cid tell you?”

Getting back on track, Hunter turned to the group, “We need to discuss Cid’s intel further on the Marauder.”

Notes: I'm already in the process of writing the next chapter, so hopefully there won't be as long of a wait this time! Classes, moving, and working have all been very stressful as of recent. I'll have some more free time soon! Until the next chapter!

You're On

Wrecker x M!Reader

NSFW

Warnings: naked massage, flirting, making out, oral sex, lingerie, "panty" ripping, anal fingering, anal fisting, anal sex, precum licking, creampie, butt plug, long sex toy

Inspired by and written for @clownbloody! I'm sorry it's sooooo late! It's been sitting in my edit folder for ages 😩

Mando'a Guide: Cyar'ika - Sweetheart Cyare - Beloved

Wrecker sighed as you worked your hands into the tight knots down his back. 

“You good, baby?” you chuckled.

“Mmmm feels good,” he all but moaned.

You grinned. “Always so tight when you come to see me.”

“More ways than one,” he laughed into the pillow.

You scoffed, pressing your quickly hardening length against the back of his hips where you straddled him. “Oh, like you’ve got the energy for any other kind of tightness after a 5 week long string of missions?”

He turned his head to look up at you through his periphery. “Always got the energy for you, cyar’ika.”

“You realize I’d have to stop massaging your back, right?”

Wrecker seemed to consider this for a moment, but his lips quirked up in a smirk. “I’ll live.”

Before you knew it, he’d bucked you off of him, taking his place above you as he roughly claimed your mouth. 

You moaned into the kiss as his hips grinded against yours, one hand capturing both of your wrists and pinning them to the bed above your head. 

“Maker, Wreck,” you sighed as his lips traveled down your body, kissing and licking, sucking and biting. 

“You make me wild, cyar’ika,” he murmured between kisses. 

Once he got to your waistline, he pulled roughly at the material of your pants, a silent plea to remove them. You obliged, revealing the lacy boxer briefs you’d gotten to surprise your lover. 

“Ohhh, cyare,” he groaned.

“You like ‘em?” you smirked. 

“Yeah,” he breathed. “You better take them off right now before I tear them off.”

You laughed. “I thought you might say that. That’s why I bought a few of them.”

Your eyebrow raised in an unspoken challenge as his lust-riddled brain put the pieces together. “R-really? You mean it?”

“Yeah, baby,” you grinned, your tongue darting out to lick your lips. “Go ahead. You know I like it when you get rough.”

“Fuck yeah, cyare,” he growled as he tugged at the waistband, the delicate fabric pulling apart easily against his strength. He groaned again, watching your quickly hardening length fall out of its confines to flop against your belly. 

Without another moment’s hesitation his big, calloused hand wrapped around your shaft as he placed a gentle kiss to your tip. 

Your contended hum quickly turned into a moan and he took your cock into his mouth. You watched his eyes flutter shut, just as it did when he took a bite of good food. 

His hand shifted down to take more of your length in, gently cupping your balls. 

“Fuck,” you whispered as his eyes opened again, fully locked onto yours. 

You could feel the pleasure building in your gut. As perfect as his mouth felt, you tapped the hand that had just reached up to tweak your nipples. 

Wrecker sank his mouth down onto you, taking your full cock into his throat. He stopped his motions, looking up at you through his lashes and cocking an eyebrow. 

“Baby, this is amazing,” you groaned. “But I don’t want to cum until I have your cock in my ass.”

It was Wrecker’s turn to moan, the rumbling from his throat around your cock making your hips jerk. 

He pulled off of you slowly, letting a few strings of spit trail down from his mouth as he finally released your dick. Your head fell back at the sight; this man was going to be the death of you. 

Faster than it took you to realize, he’d lifted you from the bed, lifting you up to straddle his waist as he leaned back against the headboard. 

“Turn around,” he ordered. “Show me that pretty ass of yours and I’ll make sure you’re ready to take me.”

You whimpered a little, moving quickly to present your ass to him. 

He slapped your cheeks, admiring the way they flushed ever so slightly. He reached for the bottle of lube that lived on the nightstand.

He poured a little onto his fingers, wiping them against your hole. 

He slipped one finger in with ease, nearly groaning at the way your ass pulled him in. He pushed another finger in and you were practically purring for him. 

“Maker, cyar’ika,” he mumbled almost reverently as he added a third finger. “You’re taking my fingers so well.”

“Love the way you stretch me,” you managed between quiet moans. “Gimme more, baby.”

Wrecker put a fourth finger in and felt like his head was going to explode. 

“Fuck, Wrecker, more,” you ordered greedily. 

“Cyar’ika, that’s almost my whole hand-”

You looked back at him over your shoulder. “Yes, baby,” you encouraged, your words slightly slurring together. “Gimme your hand.”

“Fuck, cyare,” he groaned as he squirted more lube onto his hand. 

Your ass eagerly took his giant hand and you moaned wantonly, loving the stretch and the sight of his amazed face. 

“Cyare, I need you,” he panted, pumping his hand a little. 

“Need your cock, Wreck,” you agreed. 

He pulled his hand out, wiping the extra lube onto his almost painfully hard length. 

Wrecker pulled at your hip. “Face me, cyar’ika. I need to see the pretty faces you make while you ride me.”

You shuddered, turning and lowering yourself onto his cock. 

“Fuck,” you sighed, drawing out the vowel. 

The two of you stilled for a moment, basking in the perfect way he slotted inside you. You felt his cock twitch as his hands roved over your body. They moved up to your nipples, pulling, squeezing, and rolling the sensitive skin between his fingers. 

“C’mon, mesh’la,” he whispered, bucking his hips. “Wanna see you bounce on my cock.”

You moaned again, feeling like your brain had turned to a pleasant mush as you started to move, feeling his long cock drag in and out of you. The girth of him sat in that perfect range; big enough for the stretch to drive you wild, but slim enough it didn’t become overwhelming. The depth into your gut he could reach made you dizzy. 

“I think you’re already getting close, cyare,” he whispered, his tone teasing. “Look at this mess you’re making.”

Wrecker held your waving cock with one hand, steadying it for you to see the trail of your precum dripping from your cockhead. You swiped your thumb across it, gathering the evidence of your pleasure. 

“Mmm, give me that,” he hummed, opening his mouth and letting his tongue hang out.

Your cock twitched and ached as you grabbed him by the chin, pressing your thumb against his waiting tongue. 

He let out a groan of satisfaction, his eyes rolling back as your ass clenched around him. 

Wrecker wrapped his lips around your thumb, pulling a curse from your lips. 

“Wonder how long you’ll last if I just…” He trailed off, choosing to let his actions finish the idea. He grabbed your hips, pushing you up and nearly off his cock. He pulled you back down roughly, his hips pivoting up into you. 

A string of curses fell from your lips as he continued fucking you. Soon, your words turned into rambling syllables, barely strung together as words. 

“You’re so cockdumb for me, baby,” he smirked. “You like getting fucked outta your brain?”

The way your cock twitched and the mindless, rapid nodding you gave answered the question before the affirmative words could fall from your lips. 

Then he shifted. His hands grabbed you just differently enough. 

“Fuck,” you cried as each hard thrust sent his cockhead pressing against your prostate. 

You knew you were going to cum and hoped the never-ending stream of mumbled words flowing from you told him as much. 

“That’s it, cyare,” he groaned, his pace still unrelenting. “Give me that cum.”

That did it; that sent you flying over the edge. Your vision went white as he fucked you through your orgasm. 

His hips slowed as your eyes cleared and you started to come down from your high. 

“Did so good for me, mesh’la,” he cooed. “Took my cock so well.”

“Maker, Wreck,” you sighed. “You- you are too good at that.”

“Mmm, just for you,” he shrugged. “Love taking you apart while you ride me. Love hitting that perfect little spot that makes you scream my name like that.”

Do I scream? you thought as you fought to catch your breath. You had noticed your throat was a little sore. 

“Yeah, cyar’ika,” he chuckled. “Your neighbors hate me.”

Your head was coming back together bit by bit. “Baby, did you-” you started, but were quickly cut off by a particular feeling deep in your gut. 

He hadn’t pulled out of your ass yet, but you could feel the tightness in your belly - you were full of his cum. 

You moaned as you lay down against him, being sure to not let his slowly softening length slip out of you. “Mmm, you filled me up, didn’t you Wrecker?”

“Course I did; it’s been five weeks since the last time I got to,” he grinned. “Don’t worry, mesh’la; I’m going to make sure you don’t spill a single drop.”

He produced from the pocket of his pants - which had conveniently landed on the edge of the bed - a box. 

He opened it up, revealing that he’d gotten you a new toy. It was long and thick, tapered and with a flared base of course. You knew it had to be girthy if it was meant to keep you plugged up after Wrecker’s monster of a cock had stretched you out, but the length of it brought butterflies to your stomach. 

“Fuck yes, baby,” you whined. “Please put it in me.”

He grinned wickedly, pushing you upright by your shoulders, and nudging you until you spun away from him, staying on his cock all the while. 

“That’s it, mesh’la,” he encouraged. “Lift up nice and slow for me.”

You were maybe halfway off his cock when you felt the tip of the new toy start to press into your ass. 

“Wrecker,” you moaned. 

He pulled his hips back from you, letting his semi-hard cock fall from your tight hole. He pushed the toy in further and you felt it widen with every inch. You were moaning unabashedly by the time he finished. 

“Oh, maker,” you gasped as you placed a hand on your lower belly. Your soft skin felt slightly distended and you let yourself fall back to lay on top of him. 

He laughed. “Is it good, mesh’la?”

You sighed with a slight shiver. “It is… until you can give me more of your cum.”

That wide, wicked grin returned. “Oh, you’re on, cyar’ika.”

Thanks for reading! - River

Main Masterlist Taglist Form Read on Ao3

Tags: @writing-positivelyexisting @nekotaetae @lokigirlszendaya @get-wr3ckered @jediknightjana @idoubleswearimawriter @lucyysthings @unstable-kiwi @6oceansofmoons @l3xi3luv @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @winter-phoenix1995 @serenityselene @nomercyforthewarrior @luna-the-lone-red-wolf @Padawancat97

The Distance We Make (Wrecker x F!Reader)

Summary: When Wrecker's overthinking starts to get in the way of your relationship, he becomes determined to put matters right and show you how much you mean to him.

Word count: 1.9K

Warning: 18+ / MDNI! Smut. Oral (m! receiving). Fingering (f! receiving). Unprotected PiV. Little bit of angst. Established relationship/marriage.

-- -- -- -- --

While balancing a stack of paper bags, you closed the door with a nudge of your hip and managed to wriggle the key into the lock. You muttered encouragements under your breath as you persuaded the mechanism to twist and latch shut. 

“That you, sweetie?” the low tones of your beloved resonated from the kitchen. 

“Yeah, just trying to get these stupid keys out of the door,” you called. The bolt had sealed, but you now had the task of wrestling to remove them, the inner workings stubbornly clinging on. 

Wrecker peeked around the corner into the entry hallway and scooped the bags from your grasp, bundling them away. With your hands unoccupied, you extracted the set of keys from the lock and let them drop into the pot on the sideboard. 

As you arrived in the kitchen, Wrecker was already arranging the groceries into their proper places with precision and care. No matter the task at hand, be it cooking gourmet meals or going fishing, his dedication never failed to amaze you. He was patient and committed, and as if you couldn’t love him more, he carried out everything with the brightest grin you had ever seen. The way his entire face lit up had you beaming, his joy infectious and your life made all the happier for his presence. 

But lately you noted a dim of his light, his smile less genuine and his cheery disposition slipping. You had presumed it resulted from his efforts in helping the island, the summer fish stock needing quick replenish and arduous repairs requiring his strength to fix. Each evening, you would soothe his aches with gentle massages, but once you finished, he would distance himself, sleeping farther from you and intentionally creating more space if you needed to walk by him. Whenever your kisses grew passionate, he’d quietly retreat and snuggle you close instead. Not that you minded, his cuddles were the best, but you sensed him withdrawing from you and had no idea why. 

As you organised the fresh batches of herbs and spices, your fingers skimmed the side of his hand, and his body tensed. 

“Is everything okay?” you questioned, hoping he hadn’t strained a muscle again. “Do you need to sit down? I can finish sorting this out.” 

“I’m fine,” Wrecker replied, but the reassurance didn’t quite reach his voice. 

He offered a faltering smile, the same one he had been showing you for weeks whenever you asked how he was. You saw right through it, and the sickening suspicion that you had somehow hurt him bubbled at the forefront of your mind. 

“If I’ve done anything to make you uncomfortable, I apologise,” you said, pausing in the middle of organising the groceries and focusing your undivided attention on him. 

Wrecker’s gaze rounded to you. Is that what you thought? Had the distance he created made you doubt yourself? No, he couldn’t bear that. He wouldn’t. 

Before he had chance explain himself, you spoke again. 

“I never want to make you feel like that, and I am so sorry if I have.”

Tears trickling and remorse settling into his soul, he brought you close, a protective hand cradling the back of your head and the other arm pressing you to him. “You’ve done nothing wrong, love,” he assured you. “You are perfect as always. I just… find it difficult to do many things that I used to, and there has been a lot of people asking for help lately. I’m not as fit as I once was, and I haven’t been able to do what I promised you. There’s a ton of stuff in the garden that needs fixing, that patch of roof has to be replaced, and I swore to rebuild the shed ages ago. You put in so much effort, and I’ve been letting you down.”

You drew back enough to run your hands up his chest and rest them on his cheeks, fingertips wiping away the tears and gliding over the ridges of his scar. Oh, this kind-hearted man believed he was disappointing you, retracting promises that you hadn’t even considered until he brought them up. How wrong he was. “Wrecker, you are not letting me down. You’ve been occupied with more important things. And just so you know, you are still as handsome, wonderful, and dedicated as the day we first met, and…” You swallowed the grief. You knew of Wrecker’s accelerated ageing, noticed it more over the years, but your love for him never diminished. “That will never change. We’ve always known that eventually, you wouldn’t be able to sprint about and lift stuff as you did before. I love you, every day, whatever it brings.” 

“I love you too,” he whispered, resting his forehead against yours before bridging the gap. “Love you always. Forever.” 

Your breath hitched as he roused his kisses, fierce and ardent, and resolved to be closer to you. You clung to his shirt, driven by your desire to absorb his warmth and bask in it until the stars ceased to shine. 

“Come with me,” he invited, guiding you across the corridor and into the bedroom of your cosy, shared bungalow. A gift from Shep to celebrate your union a few years ago, the place had become the sanctuary of your most treasured memories. 

Wrecker’s touch was always tender when it came to you. A skim of his fingertips on your waist, a light graze of thumbs on your jawline as he cradled his love and his life within the confines of hands calloused from hard work. 

When the back of his legs reached the end of the bed, you coaxed him to sit, giving him a moment to realise what you were doing as you encouraged him to remove his trousers and underwear before kneeling. His cock pressed against his abdomen, already producing precum and all but pleading for your attention. You inched closer. 

“Sweet pea,” he breathed, “you don’t have to…”

You kissed his thigh and rested your cheek on the hair-dusted skin, gazing up at him with all the reverence in the galaxy in your eyes. “What if I want to?” you whispered. “What if I want to make the man I adore feel good?” 

The lust-blown stare he directed towards you couldn’t have grown wider if he tried, and as your fingers explored his inner thigh, you attentively watched for any indications of discomfort. 

“Won’t keep my girl from what she wants,” Wrecker said and scooted closer to the edge of the bed for you. 

You continued your trail of kisses, lavishing care onto every stretch mark, and scar, and wound he had sustained, until you reached the one place that waited so patiently for your touch. Normally, you would have teased him, kissing and licking while he let out the most delicious rumbles, but you wanted to shower him in your love.

You sucked on the head of his cock before taking him into your mouth. A smothered moan shot from his parted lips and he bunched the bedding into his fists. You loved this, loved him, loved seeing him unravel inch by inch at a feeling only you provided. 

The way he rocked into you, craving more but refusing to take it without your permission, had your core aching. Ever the gentleman, even in moments of intense passion. 

You descended a little more before hollowing your cheeks to suck back up and lap the pearly beads at the tip, tasting him on your tongue. “You know I love every part of you, don’t you?” you murmured, punctuating your words with soft kisses to his warm cock. “I admire the thighs that carry you. I adore the smile that never fails to reassure me and the laughter that fills me with warmth. Love the embrace of those strong arms and resting my head on your tummy when I need a moment of quiet.”

As you spoke, your hands made their way up to his midriff, and you helped him in removing his shirt. 

Blissed out and blinking slowly, he welcomed you onto the bed, rearranging your positions until you were underneath him and snuggling you against the soft pillows. He took his time undressing you, planting wet-mouthed kisses as he went. While he ascended your exposed body, his erection pressed against your thigh. When you attempted to wrap your legs around him, he halted your movements and silently requested that you keep them open for him. 

His fingers explored and meandered, drawing circles on your sopping entrance, before he inserted one finger, gradually followed by a second. He swallowed your moans with his kisses and nibbled on your lower lip, delighting in the soft whimpers he elicited from you. You clenched his digits as he curled them and rubbed the sensitive spot that had you lifting your hips. 

“Someone’s impatient,” Wrecker chuckled. 

“Just… fuck…” you managed. You nails grazed his shoulder, and you gulped. “Please. Need you.” 

“Since you asked so nicely.” He withdrew his fingers and substituted them with the tip of his cock. For the first initial thrusts, he eased little by little before pulling out again, letting you get used to the stretch before pushing in as far as you could allow. He was conscious of his size and had no intention whatsoever of hurting you. Despite your persistent begging and attempts to entice him, he took his sweet time, driving you wild with every touch to your curves and each delicate, tempting kiss. 

“You… you’re amazing,” he groaned, finding his rhythm and squeezing your thigh, finally permitting you to tighten your legs around his hips. 

As he closed his eyes and surrendered to the sensation of you, you caressed his cheeks, nose to nose, and holding him steady. He had a way of making you feel divine, whether it was through his comforting presence and uplifting words during your most difficult moments or while buried inside you. This man had literally bouldered into your life and flooded it with an immeasurable amount of happiness. 

“Don’t stop,” you babbled as he ground down. “So good.” 

His lips discovered the connection between your neck and shoulder, nuzzling before he gently bit down at the spot he knew would have you mewling. It had the desired effect, and as the sensation travelled straight to your core, your hips instinctively arched to meet his. 

“Got ya,” he breathed in a mischievous chuckle. 

“Wrecker,” you whimpered. “I’m gonna…”

Urging you on, he sowed a trail of kisses down to your breasts, where he licked and sucked on your hardened nipple. The internal pressure ignited and surged, and you gripped onto him as though he was the sole lifeline tethering you to the galaxy, the waves of your orgasm cresting and coursing through your body. He continued thrusting, hitting his climax seconds after you, forehead against yours and a smile forming as that dreamy glow overtook you both. 

His gaze hovered on your connected bodies as he caught his breath, where his release had begun to seep out of you and onto the sheets. It was difficult for him to fully grasp that you were still there, giving him the opportunity to bask in this profound pleasure.

You guided his attention to you. “Please don’t distance yourself from me,” you said. “You could never be a disappointment. I only want to be here for you.”

“I won’t,” Wrecker said, sealing his promise with a kiss and lazily pulling out. He knew it would be a good idea to clean up, but he decided to leave that task for his future self. Instead, he flopped onto his back and coaxed you to snuggle on his chest, sweat cooling and bodies still a little heated. “I want to be here for you too. And I will do whatever you need me to.” 

You lifted yourself to give him a peck on the cheek. “Keep being the wonderful man I love. That’s all I need.” 

If you would like to be added to the NSFW taglist, feel free to send me a message (18+ only).

@cw80831 @stardusthuntress @spicy-clones

Hi!! 💕

For the prompt requests how about "and accidental first kiss" with Wrecker 🥺

Thank you for the ask! I'm probably going to do this same prompt again with Hardcase because I got an anon without a prompt. I hope you enjoy this!

First Kiss Prompt Pairing: Clone Trooper Wrecker x GN! Reader (Pabu resident) Warnings: a dash of angst. Some Fluff. Word Count: 1029 Prompt: "Accidental first kiss" ☀️Sunshine's Master list☀️

It’s hard to pinpoint just when you fell for him. In the metaphorical sense, of course. The first time you saw him was when he had just arrived, new comers attracted attention. Rightly so, everyone on Pabu was here for a reason. 

So when the group of clones followed Shep and Phee down from the landing pad you had happened to be out tending the herbs in their containers. Phee winked as she passed, you knew her well. You heard his voice above the other’s, loud but warm in tone. He met your eyes and grinned with a wave, which you returned as he went on with the group. 

The next time you saw him was after the quake and tsunami.  You lived in the upper levels of the island and you were helping those who had been displaced. He saw you carrying a crate of blankets, that honestly was just slightly too large for you to carry. 

He and his brothers had been rushing about with the others to get everyone dry and warm for the night. “Mesh’la! Let me help!” His voice boomed over the commotion and he headed towards you. Instead of taking the whole crate he took hold of one side, allowing you the other and walked with you. 

After you introduced yourself he answered, “My name’s Wrecker,”then with his free hand he pointed to his brothers and sister in turn. “That’s Tech,” he motioned to the one working with Phee. “Hunter’s over there,” the man with the skull face tattoo. “Omega,” he motioned to the girl with Lyana. “And, well…” a sad look crossed his features. No one came to Pabu without some sort of loss. 

“I’m sorry you didn’t get a better welcome to Pabu,” you answer. 

“The first bit was great! Glad we were here to help everyone out,” he smiles. 

The next morning he is switching between carrying heavy loads when called upon to helping keep some of the kids from the lower levels occupied. 

“You are supposed to be taking a rest, Wrecker,” his brother said. 

“Yeah but the kids were sad, I just wanted to cheer them up a bit. I’m not that tired,” he insisted. 

After that day you see him around as you both help the island rehabilitate. You speak often, and had worked together on several projects.  You found that he enjoyed work and learning to do new things. That a completed project made him happy. 

Within a few rotations he was greeting you with a hug each time. Which from him was no small thing. Each welcome enveloped all of your senses.

It was definitely before he had spilled and told you his story. Well, some of it. You suspected there was much more that he didn’t even think was something that he would need to talk about. 

He told you about the chips, how he felt after he had been taken over. His lost brother, and the one that had dedicated himself to helping other clones. His conflict with wanting to help, but wanting to keep Omega safe.  Wrecker told you there was no way she would let them leave her to do it. She would want to help. He told her how she had snuck away from Cut and Suu. 

You listened to him, wrapped your arms around him as best you could while he sobbed on your shoulder, your heart breaking for him. Wrecker had tried to apologize afterwards, you tried to explain that it was normal. That it was a lot to process. The next morning there had been a bouquet of flowers on your front steps. 

A couple of days later Echo had shown up, and they went off to try and rescue their other brother. 

Everything about their situation was dangerous and they were heading into the heart of it. Anxiety was a tight knot in your chest.  Going about your everyday you waited and watched the sky. If you hadn’t known before he left you knew now. 

One day the ship did return, but it had been so many months.  Making your way to the landing pad, you hang back.  Shep, Lyana, and Phee were front and center. You hung back, among the other random onlookers. He may be your friend, but you didn’t want to assume anything. You didn’t think he really thought of you the way you did of him. Wrecker’s life had so much going on, he certainly didn’t need a relationship added on to that. 

You watched as they left the ship. Omega being the first, running to Phee and Lyana. Hunter and Tech, followed closely by Echo. 

There was a long delay, long enough that your heart clenched and your stomach dropped. 

Slowly he made his way down the ramp accompanied by who you assumed was Crosshair. Wrecker looked upset as he went to join Hunter and the others. Crosshair looked bored, but he scanned the area around him. You could feel his sight land on you, a slight smirk twitching at his lips. He elbowed his brother and said something you couldn’t hear. Wrecker’s expression changed to excitement, looking in your direction. Then he called your name before running your direction. 

Wrecker had you off your feet in a hug immediately.  All of your thoughts flowed together and collided, you couldn’t form a sentence.  Deciding a kiss on the cheek was still friendly enough to to be asking much, you turn your head to do so.  Evidently he had decided to do the same, or maybe he was going to say something.  Either way your lips crashed together.   Comedically you both froze, eyes wide in shock. When you realize neither one of you had pulled away, you lean into his lips as your eyelids flutter shut. Wrecker immediately responded, pinning you against him with one arm while cradling the back of your head with his other hand. 

After several long moments you parted, and he said, “Shoulda done that a long time ago,”  Not having found your voice again you nodded, holding onto him tighter.   He laughed, kissing your cheek this time. “Come on, I should introduce you to my brother,”

Thanks for reading!!

homesick

Wrecker x gn!reader

summary: After a trip in another city, you're home again. It's just then when you realize how much you missed it.

warnings: homesickness, crying, exhausion, emotional crash, reader's hair is long enough to be pushed behind their ear

words: ~1690

a/n: hello there! another day, another fic. this time with the prompt crashing hard. in my opinion this was definitely one of the hardest prompts to fit, but i thought i'd try it like that. enjoy!

MASTERLIST

SUMMER OF TBB MASTERLIST

Home. You are finally at home again.

You've been away for a few days, on a vacation with your friends, and even though it was an amazing time, you were above relieved to finally be at home again. You don't know where it came from, but for the time being away you felt unsettled and uncomfortable. Due to your inner turmoil, you couldn't enjoy the trip as much as you wanted to. The nights were rough, you had troubles with falling and staying asleep, and you just felt like one day was even more exhausting than the other.

So it isn't surprising that you could just fall into your bed, dead to the world, and sleep for weeks.

But of course, even though you are so tired and ready to sleep, your stomach calls after food. The ride home was even more exhausting than the last few days together- the air in the vehicle was stuffed, it was too hot, kind of stinky, too loud - just too much of everything.

You sigh at the memory and pull your key out of your pocket, taking a deep breath when it doesn't come out smoothly, but instead tangles with something inside, before just ripping it out and opening the door.

You pull off your shoes, throw your jacket in a corner, and just put down your luggage somewhere near the entry. You will clean that up tomorrow.

Whilst following the light into your living room, you find Wrecker, sitting in front of your holo-projector, which is on a too quiet volume for you to hear. From the looks of it, he is just watching an old kid's show.

Well, watching isn't really the right thing to say, since his head is laid back on the backrest of the couch, his eyes closed and his mouth wide open. Sleep must have caught up to him faster than he would have liked, considering he still has on his work clothes and his glass of water on the table is still almost completely full.

"Hey, Wrecker," you whisper quietly as you come closer and put a hand on his bald head.

"Yeah? Yeah, I'm awake," he sputters and sits up in one smooth motion. He is super drowsy and when he looks at you, you could swear he looks in two different directions.

"Are you okay?" You ask, a little surprised by his immediate reaction, but somewhat amused at the same time.

"Urgh, yeah, just was far, far away," he rumbles, his voice thick with sleep.

"Oh, sorry for waking you. I just thought you'd rather sleep in the bed," you say and Wrecker nods at that. "'s okay no worries," he assures you, stretches and gets up. "Give me a minute, then I come appreciate you, yeah?" he mumbles and is out of the room faster than you can say anything.

You shake your head in amusement. You've never met someone that was as confused as Wrecker when they woke up. Especially since tonight was a good night. Sometimes you have to wait for what feels like an eternity for him to be functioning in the morning.

You sigh quietly and take his glass from the table, bringing it over to the kitchen.

While you stand there, you notice how hungry you really are, but at the same time you're way too tired to cook anything. You almost start to cry when you take a look into the fridge, only to see that there is nothing inside, that just needs a warm up or is cooked fast.

Just when you debate about crying because of your full-empty fridge, you feel muscular arms wrapping around your waist and a warm body pressing against your back.

"Hey, love. Long time no see, right?" Wrecker whispers and gives you a purposefully wet kiss on the cheek.

"Ew, Wrecker," you smile, but don't wipe your cheek. You immediately feel a bit better, and lean into his touch, snuggling the side of your face into his'. He has changed his clothes and wore some comfy sleep clothes instead.

"Hmm, yes. You have no idea how much I missed you," you say and put your hands on his arms, moving your thumbs over his warm skin. "Missed ya, too," Wrecker murmurs and tightens his arms for a second, hugging you closer.

"Are you hungry?" Wrecker asks after a few seconds, and you nod: "Yeah, I'm starving, but I'm too tired to make anything," you say, but luckily your boyfriends is your savior:

"There's still some soup in the freezer, do you want me to warm it up?" your boyfriend asks, and you feel your heart swelling at his suggestion.

"Yes, please," you agree. About ten minutes later, the two of you sit on the couch together, eating some soup and dip in some bread he roasted beforehand.

Leaning into his side, you're really glad that he's here with you at this moment.

You really missed evenings like this. You know that you don't have them all the time, but being completely without him like that was really weird. Normally, you see each other every day, and are practically attached on the hips. So those last few days felt a little lonely, even though they were very nice days with your friends, and you definitely weren't alone.

But when Wrecker finally asks about those exact days, it is like a dam breaks loose.

You don't know why exactly you start to cry, but at the same time it feels good and like something you desperately needed. The feelings you've been swallowing down over the last few days finally have the chance to break free, so of course they do just that and come crashing down on you. Hard, at that.

Wrecker looks at you with big eyes, almost speechless.

"That bad?" he asks as he reaches for a tissue and drops it in your hand.

You sniff quietly, shaking your head.

"No, it's quite the opposite. The city was really beautiful, and we saw so many amazing things. It was funny, and the hotel was actually really luxurious. And the weather was good, and my friends were nice. Oh, and the food was amazing, you would've loved it there," you sob quietly, telling him about your vacation.

"Oh, but that sounds really great, right? Why are you crying, then?" he asks a little confused and puts an arm around you, gently brushing his fingers over your shoulder, and tries to comfort you.

You shrug and quietly blow your nose. "I don't know. I know it sounds stupid, but... but it just wasn't home. You weren't there, and it wasn't our bed, and I couldn't just take a break and be for myself for a few hours. And then we had to get up so early every time and went to bed so late and... and I think I was... am just tired. And homesick, maybe," you sniff and feel stupid at the same time.

This was a trip you wanted to go on for such a long time. And you know it was an amazing time, but it feels like those sad feelings just hit you like a train at the moment, crashing hard down on you.

"Oh, Cyare... Come here," Wrecker whispers and pulls you even closer to his chest.

"I'm sorry," you whisper again, but your boyfriend just shakes his head.

"It's okay. Really, I promise. I know what it feels like to be homesick, I didn't feel any different when we left Kamino for the first time. The world was so foreign and scary, I cried myself to sleep every night for a whole week because I wanted to go back so bad," he assures you, starts to stroke over your hair and cheeks. He puts your hair behind your ear with his one hand, following an invisible line over and over again, helping you a lot with calming down.

"Really?" you want to know, and Wrecker nods. "Hah, you bet. If it hadn't been for Crosshair to catch me crying my eyes out one night, I think it would have taken at least another week of feeling like that. Do you want to know what he did?" he asks, and with the way he smirks, you definitely know that this isn't a story you want to miss.

"Yes, tell me," you almost gasp, the tears on your face slowly drying.

"He set up this cuddle pile, just for me. And we watched some stolen holo-movies. He even let me decide which one, even though he knew he'd absolutely hate the ones I picked," he tells you, and a small smile appears on your lips.

"Oh, I knew Crosshair always was a big softie, even though he tells me otherwise," you smile and Wrecker grins. "Oh yeah, he's the biggest softie," he agrees and points towards your soup at the same time. You nod and take another mouth full, savoring the taste on your tongue.

"Did it help?" you ask and Wrecker nods.

"Oh yeah. I didn't feel so alone anymore and every time I got this feeling, I was finally brave enough to talk to them about it, since I knew they wouldn't judge me for it," he explains and wipes the last stray tear off your face.

"That's nice," you murmur. Wrecker's smile gets even brighter. "Ah, yes. And you know, would home really be home if you wouldn't miss it?" he asks more rhetorically, but you still agree.

He is right.

Being away is nice, but it's also okay to miss home and the people around it. Otherwise, you wouldn't feel like coming home again, right? It would be worse to not miss it at all.

When you're laying in your bed about an hour later, snuggled together and holding each other in each other's arms, it doesn't take long for the two of you to get buried under the blanket of sleep.

With a small smile on your lips, you sink deeper and deeper, ready to dive into some sweet dreams, finally home again.

Oh, how you've missed that.

TAGLIST

@isthereanechoinhere96 @trixie2023 @freesia-writes

𝐑𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐓𝐨 𝐌𝐞

Summary: You don't want Wrecker to leave for the day.

Genre: x reader fluff

Tags: gn!reader, tooth-rotting fluff, kissing, ficlet, no use of y/n

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: N/A (please let me know if I missed any!)

A/N: Translations for Mando'a are at the end! (please forgive if they are not accurate- I did my best...)

Other: dividers by @moosgraphics & @bunnysrph (tysm!)

Soft morning sunlight gently pulls you from the unconscious oblivion of sleep, tugging at your eyelids to open. You refuse the warm, beckoning call. Opening your eyes means returning to reality— to ripping apart a wonderful thing.

‘Wrecker.’ 

Your first thought of the day. Still weighted with slumber, your arm stretches its heavy way, reaching toward the other side of the bed. It finds its warm, solid mark. Eyes still shut against the world, you relax your arm, draping it across his massive frame and pulling yourself closer into him. You nuzzle against his back, trying to fall back into sleep. The sun’s warmth is nothing compared to his strong, muscled shoulders. His masculine musk is so sweet, his body so comforting. You want to continue to lay with him like this for hours on end, simply existing together in the world of the half-asleep.

After a moment of pure morning bliss, Wrecker sighs lightly, twisting between the sheets to face you. He is blocking the sun from your eyes with his wide build. “Mesh’la,” he whispers, breath gently brushing against your cheeks and scooping your hand in his.

“Mm?” You reply, barely audible.

“It’s mornin’,” he says quietly, his deep voice dripping with dreams from the night before. 

You finally open your eyes in the shade he’s  providing. Wrecker’s face is but inches from yours, his tender brown eyes are looking at you with all the gentle love and admiration the galaxy has to offer.

“Already?” You ask, pouting.

“Already,” he confirms, bringing his palm up from under the blankets to cup the side of your face. His large thumb sweeps softly against your cheek. “Rise ’n’ shine, cyar’ika.”

“You can’t stay just this once?” You ask, already knowing the answer.

 Wrecker leans to close the gap between you, slightly tilting your head down, and plants a gentle kiss on your forehead. “You know I can’t,” he says against your forehead. 

He gives you another kiss, lingering a second longer. His fingers and lips leave an aching want beneath them. He pulls away and lets his hand go back up to your face. You look at him pleadingly, your hands finding their way to rest on his scarred, firm chest. Wrecker was never one to refuse your silent asks of affection. He leans forward and turns his head to slot his lips perfectly into yours. You close your eyes and let him take the lead. He may be a giant in stature, but he is always gentle with you. You close your eyes and feel his arms pull you closer to him. You want to wrap your arms and legs around him to keep him here, with you, but you are nowhere close to being able to hold him down. He barely gives you a moment to revel in his kisses before he pulls away and flings the covers off his body, exposing you to the sudden chill. You groan and lean back into the pillows, telling yourself it really is time to get ready for the day. You know he gets so much joy out of his work, but sometimes you wish he would just lay with you for a whole morning. The rest of the Batchers are fully capable of completing a mission without him.

Wrecker is already standing at the open, metal closet, pulling out his standardized blacks that all clones wear under their armor. You watch as he steps into the stretchy material. His muscles flex, tight, against his skin as he yanks them up his body. You can’t help but admire his physique. The sun is reflecting perfectly off his tan skin. He catches your gaze in the mirror and smiles confidently.

“What are you lookin’ at?”

“Just you, darling,” you reply.

“Are you ever gonna crawl out of that bed of ours?”

“I was thinking about it,” you say, stretching your arms into the air, desperately reaching for the motivation to get up. “But the view from here is just too good to give up yet.”

Somehow, his smile widens even further at your flirty words. Was that a hint of blush growing across his cheeks? You prop yourself up against your arm, chin resting in your hand, elbow pressing into the mattress, to watch as Wrecker finishes assembling his uniform. As he makes the final adjustments to his shin guards, you sweep your legs over the side of the bed and pad over to him. He pulls you into him, wrapping his strong arms around the small of your back. You give a small yelp as he raises you up to be face to face. Wrecker’s hugs give you the ultimate sense of comfort and stability. Even separated by the plastoid armor, he somehow manages to warm you right up.

“Good morning, cyar’ika,” he says, beaming.

“Good morning, my love.”

Wrecker presses his lips against yours and you melt into him. You are both so in tune with each other that this romantic dance needs no practiced choreography. It is as natural and as easy as breathing. Careful so as not to break the connection of bliss, Wrecker gently places you back on the floor, keeping his arms wrapped around your back. You feel him start to pull away so you bring both hands up to his face, not wanting him to leave just yet. He obliges and kisses you deeper. You know this is his goodbye for the day. You finally release him from the soft hold, knowing it’s harder on him when he leaves for the day. Wrecker breathes you in and rests his forehead against yours. Wrecker gives you one last, quick kiss before finally letting go and walks out of the bedroom to finish getting ready. 

You pull on a fresh set of clothes and move out to the common area, waiting for him on the sofa. This was the hardest part of the day, watching him leave your shared dwelling to take on whatever mission Hunter has in store for the Batchers, but it makes him so happy and you would never ask him to resign his duties only for you. You want him to feel fulfilled in every aspect of life, but you would be lying to him and yourself if your heart didn’t break every time he walks out the door. 

You hear the water shut off and you sink deeper into the cushions. He finds you curled up and offers his hand to you to pull you back to your feet for the last goodbye.

“Are you absolutely, positively sure you have to go today?” You ask as you stand. 

“Sorry, mesh’la,” he says, giving you a pitiful look. “Plus, Tech and Echo have been working on this new bomb, and I can’t wait to try it out.”

“You’ll have to let me know how it goes, my love.”

Wrecker, suddenly overcome with affection for you, envelops you in another hug, tighter than before. He wants to make sure it stays with you all day.

“Mesh’la,” he whispers into your ear. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Wrecker. Cuyir morut'yc ner kar’ta.”

“Always am.” He smiles lovingly, impressed by your Mando’a. “I’ll be back before you even know I’m gone, cyar’ika.”

You slump back into the sofa, watching as Wrecker heads to the door. He gives you one last longing look before walking out the door. The love of your life is gone, and you are alone. But one thing will always remain true. Wrecker will always return home to you.

Cuyir morut'yc ner kar’ta: be safe, my heart

Taglist: @rinksu-no-joo @hersforthebreaking @baddest-batchers

Just the two of us

Summary: you run into a curious girl with her large group of brothers during a festival on Pabu. Your favourite of the batch, though, is Wrecker. Wrecker x reader, she/her pronouns used.

Word count: 2726 (this one got away from me)

Warnings: there’s a slight indicator that Echo has trouble eating new foods, so keep that in mind if that’s triggering for you. But other than that it’s pure fluff!

Authors note: dude I love Wrecker so much, he’s such a sweetheart. I had the time of my life writing this. This is set after the events of s3. Tech IS alive and IS in a relationship with Phee. Because I said so.

Beneath your hands, you intricately weaved the young girls hair into braids. Your makeup and hair stand had been a big hit so far into the night, and kids had been lining up to have their face painted. It warmed your heart each time they looked into the mirror you’d propped up, beaming at the animal you’d painted onto their face, or the fun hairstyle you’d put together for them. Lyana was your favourite customer though, always sitting still and patient as you adorned her hair with braids and flowers.

“And Auntie Phee said she’ll bring back a treasure for me.”

“Wow! She sounds quite the adventurer.”

“She is. When I’m older, she’s going to take me with her at some point.”

You chuckled, wondering what Shep had to say to that. “I’m sure she will. Well, you’re all done.”

Lyana turned to the mirror, checking her reflection out before looking back to you. She wore a large grin as she wrapped her arms around your waist. “Thank you!”

“Anytime.”

The girl ran off, her braids piled securely on her head. You smiled, turning your attention to your hair tools. After putting the brushes away, you settled back into your chair and sipped your mocktail. The sun was just beginning to set, and the island was washed in pink and orange hues.

This was always your favourite festival. The day of the high tide was the mark of summer, and as the story went, the moon had shed a tear for its lost love- the sun- which dropped into the ocean, building the island of Pabu in its place. In turn, the days began growing longer as a thank you from the sun. When the island population grew, the festival grew too as a mark of celebration for the gifts from both the sun and the moon. It lasted all day, until the early hours of the morning. Each year you held a different stall, always yearning to do something for the community that had done so much for you, and this year you thought you’d put your hair and makeup skills to the test. So far it was proving a damned good decision.

You put your glass down, attention drawn to the girl approaching the stall. She was holding hands with an older man, who had scars along one side of his face, and chatting deeply with another older man. He wore a skull tattoo on one half of his face. They could only be the clones you’d heard so much about.

When she spoke, her strong accent rung out. “Hi! Lyana pointed us here, she said you do hair?”

Your hands leant on the work counter as you leaned forward. “I do indeed, makeup as well. All festival looks. You must be… Omega?”

“Yeah, and these are my brothers, Wrecker and Hunter.” She gestured to both as she spoke.

“It’s lovely to meet you guys. I take it you want your hair done too?”

“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble?”

“No trouble at all! Take a seat.”

As she sat, Hunter asked you if this cost anything, which of course it didn’t. Your stalls for the high tides festival each year were always free.

“Are you sure? No credits at all?”

“Why? Do you want your hair done as well, sir?”

He scoffed. “No one touches my hair.”

“In that case, you can stop your fretting.”

Wrecker laughed, loud and boisterous. You couldn’t help but smile at the sound. “Mega’s in safe hands, Sarge.”

“Thank you, sir.”

The gentle giant rubbed the back of his neck, “call me Wrecker.”

“Wrecker it is.”

Happy that Omega was content, Hunter saw her and his brother off, wishing you a goodbye. Apparently he had to go ‘monitor Cross’, whatever that meant. The girl in the seat was inquisitive, you found, constantly asking questions about the hair procedure and how to do braids. It baffled you that a girl of her age didn’t know how to braid hair, but you taught her nonetheless. Wrecker sat by watching. You weren’t sure what to make of him. He was quiet, but you got a general sense that he was gentle. It sent a tickling up your spine, a desire to know more.

“Well, what do you think?” You asked Omega, pointing her to the mirror.

“Oh, I love it! Thank you.”

“It was nothing.” You shrug it off, leaning against the counter. As you cross your arms, your eyes catch Wrecker’s, and the tips of his ears flush pink. The giant was rather cute, you’d come to decide.

Wrecker couldn’t pull his gaze away. You were so good with the kid, and your smile- he found himself smiling along with you, even if he wasn’t a part of the conversation. His eyes lingered on your dress, a floral yellow one that had a small bow beneath the dip of your chest. It hugged your curves just right, and Maker, did you look good in it. What’s more, you looked comfortable. Your hands deftly worked on Omegas hair, easily and gently pulling the strands into intricate braids. When your eyes found his, he finally looked away, sheepish at the fact that he’d been caught ogling you. As he gazed at the sand underneath his shoes, he became vaguely aware of Omega’s voice.

“Wrecker?”

His head shot up. “Yeah?”

“Wanna get going?”

“Oh uh,” his eyes drifted to you. “Sure.”

Omega took his hand again, hopping off the chair she had been sitting on. A shooting ache in his chest sprung as he left you in your stall, and the corners of his lips fell into a frown. The two of you had barely exchanged words past pleasantries, and yet he still felt so inexplicably drawn to you… that hadn’t happened before. He wondered if he was developing a small crush, but that wasn’t likely. He had always had a large crush on Senator Amidala, and this felt nothing at all like that. Wrecker bit his lip in contemplation.

Omega swung his hand. “Soooo, wanna tell me what’s on your mind?”

“Huh? What?”

“You’re being quiet. What is it?”

“Pft, nothin’s on my mind.” He scratched the back of his head with his free hand.

“Uh-huh. Wouldn’t be that stall keeper, would it? What was her name? Y/…. Something.”

“Y/N.”

Omega looked up at her big brother, noticing the softness in his brash voice. She couldn’t resist smiling at it. Usually Wrecker was so loud, so impulsive, and despite what some thought, he had a cracking brain on him. Each time he talked with Omega about bomb mechanics, or hell, even the inner workings of cooking, she was always impressed. How did he not see that he was falling for Y/N? Omega had read about love at first sight, and had always wanted to believe in it. If this was such a thing, she couldn’t be happier for her brother.

Besides, she liked you. You were sweet, gentle, and your jokes had the two of you giggling together during her hairdo. She had to get Wrecker and you to interact again.

Your watch struck eight pm. It was time to lock up. When you ran a children’s stall, you never ran them past eight pm because they were too preoccupied to join it. It also meant you had time to enjoy the festivities of the high tide party before the night completely evaded you. After packing your things away and locking the stall up, you tucked the key into your pocket and strolled towards Shep. As per usual, you wanted to express your gratitude for his permission regarding conducting your little business.

Your hand nudged his arm. “Thanks again for letting me run the stall. I had a lot of fun.”

“Oh, it’s no problem at all. Thank you for running it! I can see it was a big hit with the kids this year.”

“Yeah, they liked this one. Any chance for a burger? I’m famished.”

“They’re still going. Max is directing the grill this year, along with Rosa.”

You bid Shep farewell, turning to the direction of Max and his sister. The three of you fell into easy conversation as Max prepared your food, Rosa sitting to the side taking a break. She held a cocktail in hand, and had already made and given you one too. You had somehow drunk half the glass by the time Max handed you your burger. When you were mid-way through a bite, a voice called your name.

“Y/N!”

You turned, still biting into your burger. A drop of sauce fell down to the sand as you did, and to your terror, there stood Omega, Wrecker and a bloke with a scomp for an arm. You swallowed harshly.

“Uh, hey.”

“Friends of yours, Y/N?” Rosa asked.

“I’d say so. I haven’t met this one yet, though.”

“Name’s Echo, ma’am.”

You nodded your head to him. “Hi.”

“We were wondering if we could get something to eat?” Omega asked, standing on her tiptoes to look at Max’s menu.

“Hell yeah, lil lady. We’ve got burgers, chips, hot dogs, and Rosa’s in charge of drinks. What d’ya fancy?” He rested his elbows on the make-shift counter as he spoke.

“Hmm… I think chips. What about you guys?”

“I’m not really hungry.”

“Echo, you need to eat something!”

“I’ll steal a few of your chips then.”

Omega glared at him, her hands on her hips. You giggled through your burger. Once you swallowed your bite, you turned conspiratorially to him and dropped your voice to a hush, as if sharing a secret.

“Max’ burgers are the best on the planet. You can’t fault ‘em. And he's absolutely lovely, so if you wanna change anything up, he’ll do whatever it is, easy peasy. Go on, you know you wanna.” You nudged his side with your elbow.

“Hmm, you’re quite convincing but I’m not really one for trying new foods. But Maker above, if it’ll shut you up, Mega, I’ll have chips.”

The small girl high fived you, a shared celebration of getting Echo to eat something substantial. When Max asked Wrecker what he wanted to eat, the giant looked at you, biting into the last of your burger, and decided he wanted one too.

After Max had prepared the orders for the clones, Omega ended up dragging you away with them. The family you joined were sitting around a small bonfire, Hunter sitting beside a man who had a dog at his feet. Next to him, Phee sat with a man with goggles on. You soon learnt these were Omega’s other brothers, as was Echo. You took your seat besides Phee, finding comfort in knowing someone in the group. As the night wore on, you soon became good friends with the odd group, although you put that down to Omega. She was a ball of sunshine.

“Well, I never pegged you as someone to back down from a challenge.” Phee nodded her fork to Crosshair.

He hissed back, “I’m not.”

“Then game on, grumpy.”

You giggled, leaning your chin on your folded knees as you watched Phee stand and take position. Crosshair did the same, brushing the sand off his legs.

“I now announce this fight to be in action!” Omega clapped her hands.

The two of them brawled, and the rest of you began to place bets on who you each thought would win. Hunter assumed Crosshair, Echo voted for Phee (“eh, why not? It would be funny” were his exact words), Omega voted for both, unable to decide, Wrecker voted for Phee, and Tech voted for his girlfriend. Although he was about to vote for Crosshair, but Hunter kicked his ankle and he coughed out Phee’s name instead. You voted for Phee, having not seen the sniper fight before.

Tech called out from where he was sitting, “go for the back of his knees!”

“I know, I am!”

“Well, do it better.”

Just as the fight was about to hit the eye of the storm, Wrecker belched loudly. Each of you paused and turned to him, before laughing simultaneously. Over the course of the night, he’d become more comfortable, you realised. He was still being quiet though, which was apparently unnatural according to the many comments his brothers made.

“I said, didn't I? The best burgers on the planet.” you commented, still smiling.

“Yeah, you’ve got pretty good taste.”

“Thanks big guy. If you think that, I gotta take you to a restaurant down on south street in Ord Mantell. It’s kinda seedy, but they do the most amazing noodles.”

You watched Wrecker’s eyes light up. “Really? Dinner out?”

“Yeah, why not? It’ll be nice, we couldn’t sit in, but we could all find a place to eat together.”

His eyebrows furrowed a little. “Oh, all?”

“Well-”

A yelp rang out. You and Wrecker turned your heads back to the fight, where Phee had Crosshair pinned on the floor with his arm twisted behind his back. “Fine, fine, you win,” he seemed to be grumbling.

Phee let Crosshair go, standing and throwing her arms out. “I won.”

“We knew you would.” Tech added as she slid back into his arms.

“Liar.”

“I demand a rematch on solid ground.”

“Aw, he’s salty. Fine, rematch later.”

“Fine with me,” Crosshair muttered, his fingers stroking over Batcher’s skin once he was seated.

The batch resumed talking, pulling you and Wrecker into their conversation and away from yours. Eventually Hunter stood to take Omega home, and one by one everyone followed. Only you and Wrecker stay seated by the now dying embers of the fire. With the disappearance of the others, your conversation had also dwindled. When you faced the clone, you could see as clear as day that he was nervous. His teeth bit into his lip and his eyes darted from yours to the sand. It was quite endearing.

“So,” you began, playfully leaning into his side. “Just the two of us left.”

“Heh, yeah.”

“To be honest, I’m quite happy about that. Not that I haven’t enjoyed spending time with the others!” You rushed to add. “I just… wanted to spend time with you most.”

“Oh. Is tha’ right?”

“Mhm. You guys all seem pretty tight knit?”

Wrecker’s face lit up. “Oh we are. We were always the odd ones out so we kinda naturally stuck together, and then Echo joined and it was great. And then ‘Mega found us, and it got even better. Well, not better better, I mean we had all that stuff with the Empire, but we had ‘Mega with us. Most of the time. And then we got her back, and we got Crosshair back, and now Echo comes and goes and we miss him but- well, I’m- I’m ramblin’ aren’t I?”

“I don’t mind. Please,” you smiled and gestured for him to continue.

“Well, there’s not really much else to say. We’re always thrilled with Echo visits but he’s doin’ good work with Rex.”

“Who’s Rex?”

“Only the Captain ‘imself! He’s pretty great.”

“I think you’re pretty great.”

“Oh.”

You watched the tips of Wrecker’s ears flush. He was cute when he was nervous, you thought. Your mind played back to your interrupted chat. Biting your lip, you nudged closer to him and placed a hand on his arm. The muscles beneath his shirt tensed momentarily, and you couldn’t help but drift your eyes down to his chest.

Stars, he was gorgeous, wasn’t he?

“Well,” your eyes found his again. “Seeing as you’re all so close, I feel like you and I won’t get a lot of time just the two of us?”

He deflated. “Probably not.”

“But, maybe we could get away for a bit? You still up for those noodles?”

“You mean like a- a-“

“A date.”

Wrecker’s face lit up, unsure eyebrows lifting as he grinned. “Hell yeah! Let’s do it!”

You laughed. “Brilliant. We’ll fly out on Tuesday?”

“Yeah, okay.”

The two of you stayed at the unlit fireplace for some time more. As you chatted, your mind filled with the potential of your future date. Wrecker, of course, was jovial. His laugh consumed your lungs and you ended up laughing too. It seemed you’d caught the attention of the sweetest guy on the island, and you were glad for it.

"That's nice, but I think I need more muscle,"

Wrecker x F!Reader One Shot

Summary:

Its a late night and lonely shift at the loading hanger, just you and your oversized help for the evening. Upon finding out the boys might be breaking contact with Cid, it only takes a flash of puppy dog eyes to convince you to blow off some steam.

WC: 3831 - Read on Ao3

*this is just my general "mature rating" specifics:

Content Warning:

Smut. Brief Angst. Wrecker is loaded. Oral (f receiving), fingering, Mirror sex, Thigh use, Cum cover, brief alcohol, casual sex, Mando'a, Ice Cream. Wrecker's name is actually Wreck-her.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

“Oh, what the varp…”

You eyed the sparking frigate that chugged into your docking bay. 

“They're late.”

You spun at the gruff voice, weathered from an age of death sticks and drink, to look down at the scaly woman that sauntered in. 

Cid stood arms folded following where your eyes had been as the wrecked ship came to a stop with a shriek and a rush of steam. 

“If they weren't so cute-”

You didn't catch the rest of it, but you smirked amused as you watched her wander over to the men hopping out of the cargo doors. It didn't linger on you though, as you glanced back at the clock over the cluttered switchboard in the office. 

Late is karken right…

There was no way you were gonna offload this ship on your own and get to go home tonight. Your fingers found their way to your temples and gave them a soothing rub before you followed Cid to address the vagabonds cluttering your dock. 

They were laughing jovially as you approached, recounting their recent escapade to an amused set of claws and scales. The little girl, Omega, hopped down after them and you bristled. They brought the child with them again. You tried to smother the indignant feeling as she waved at you with her usual exuberance. 

Hunter caught your expression and raised his eyebrows. You glared back and he clapped his hand to his chest, exaggerating like he’d been struck. It was stupid and you chuckled while the one called Tech rolled his eyes. 

“Don't encourage him, he's been unhealthily drawn to dramatic antics lately and I fear he’ll start trying to make me laugh,”

Cid turned back to address you,

“My usual hangar, the account should be up to date.”

She turned to go and the boys turned to follow.

“Um, excuse me!”

They turned back. 

“Do you know what time it is? Everyone else has gone home for the day.”

Cid made a face like it wasn't her problem, that wasn't gonna fly with you though. 

“If you want this done tonight, someones gonna have to stay and help,”

Omega piped up,

“I can help,”

“That's nice, but I think I need more muscle, sweetie…”

There was silence, the boys looking between themselves, obviously wanting to touch base with Cid to get going again. 

“I'll stay behind.”

You jumped at the deep, gravelly voice behind you,

“Maker! Wrecker, don't sneak up on me like that!”

“I wasn't sneakin’,”

You weren't sure why he looked so hurt, but he disappeared back into the shadows of the cargo hold and the rest of the squad shrugged and continued on their way. 

“Great… the two of us then,”

You stomped up the ramp, ready to get to work and maybe steal an hour nap before the morning crew got here. 

At least they had the sense to leave me the strong one…

Wrecker was already working as you entered the hold, casually throwing crates ten times your weight onto a hover pallet. You walked over to the load and started checking the box numbers against a dossier Cid had forwarded to your datapad. 

The two of you worked like that quietly for about an hour; You giving directions and him following obediently. 

“Take a break and get some water big guy,”

You casually swatted his hip and he jumped, hesitating but eventually going to the dispenser to fetch a cup. Leaning against a box you checked the crates that had been registered versus what was left and sighed. There was a sharp snap followed by a large clunk and you looked up to catch Wrecker tossing his gauntlets onto the discarded breast plate on the floor. He caught you staring as he unzipped the thick tan under coat to dab at the beaded sweat on his neck.

“It's hot,”

“Yeah… uh, do what you have to,”

But you were distracted, light glinting off the exposed muscle of his neck. He splashed water on his face and it dropped into the v of his chest, catching in the wispy hair that covered it. You felt your face flush and your eyes shot back to the data pad on your lap. 

I need to get out more…

You stiffened as he came up beside you, bending to lift the crate you were standing by… but he stopped, a look of irritation on his usually bright features as he took in your tense posture. 

“Do I make you uncomfortable or somethin’?”

“What? No!... No, I'm just tired… sorry, Wrecker,”

He moved the crate, stacking it onto the hover pad; stopping to roll his sleeves over his elbows. 

“It's not just tonight.”

“Hmm,”

He turned, 

“You're always like this. Quiet, but just around me… did I do something?”

“That's not true…”

“It is,”

You sank your weight back on your heel and thought about it… 

…

“Shyte… I'm sorry, Wrecker… no, you didn't do anything.”

He shifted uncomfortably.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I'm sure,”

…

“What is it then?”

You looked at him more directly, his brow was pinched and his jaw flexed subtly causing his temple to bulge in an anxious rhythm. He was tense, but still had that air of lost puppy that always made your heart pinch. 

Shyte. 

“No… Wrecker, it's not you… it's me. Sometimes I see those bright smiles on that handsome face and… I dunno, feel kind of… bad.”

You finished lamely, realizing you'd have to do better as his face slacked in confusion. 

“Bad about being such a bitter asshole all the time?... Omega talks a lot, about what you boys deal with…”

You weren't sure if any of this was helping but he wasn't stopping you. Without realizing your palms had started to sweat and you tucked them into your pants pockets. 

“Just, if you can go through what you guys do and still be so nice and sweet, well… whats that say about the rest of us… about me… and then yeah, I guess I get uncomfortable…”

“You're not an asshole.” 

You snorted,

“Thanks.”

But you had said too much and turned back to your data pad, flushing and a little grumpy. 

A shadow fell over you and you looked up to find Wrecker leaning over you.

“Uh… what's up, big guy?”

“You really think I'm handsome?”

Huh… I guess I did say that…

“Well… sure, you're a looker, Wrecker,’

You patted the chest boxing you in against the stack of crates. 

“I like big guys with scars and goofy smiles though, so consider that a biased review.”

You pushed out from under him pacing back to scan the warehouse and formulate a plan of attack. You were overshadowed again and you turned back to the tall clone looming over you raising your eyebrows in question. 

“Go out with me,”

“What?”

“Go out with me. You and me, on a date.”

You stepped back, considering his eager expression and softened. 

“Sure, why not… next time you boys are free?”

His brow pinched, confusing you,

“What about tonight?”

He countered, looking hopeful. 

“Ah…”

You glanced about the hold still mostly full of crates. 

“I’d love too, Wrecker, but we're less than halfway through and by the time we're done-”

“What about now then?”

“...now?”

“Just a quick break for a twisty treat, I'm buying… I know a stand nearby,”

You hesitated, glancing about the rig again but he persisted. 

“It'll take all night anyways… what would a little snack break cost us?”

He was leaning over you again, hitting you with sad puppy looks. 

“Besides, I'm starving’,”

You closed your eyes, exhaling sharply in amusement before meeting his gaze. Without much thought you reached up to cup his cheek, stroking his pouty lip lightly with your thumb. 

“Sure, what the varp…”

~~~

You perched on the back of a stone bench watching the tall clone navigate his way back to you from a crowded stall. It sat in the middle of an alcove of one of the many slums adjacent to the shipping district. It was a nice corner of the community; the laundry hanging from lines all the way up the circular thoroughfare added a colorful motif against the bare bulb strands haphazardly hanging about. 

“Hope you like berries,”

A cold cone was popped into your hand, white whipped treat piled high and topped with a syrupy reduction of local berries. It looked wonderful, and far too fancy for this corner of the world. You darted your tongue out to catch a drip from the already melting desert while Wrecker dropped onto the bench seat by your legs, bouncing you slightly. 

“Mm, it's good!”

“I know, it's the best I've found down here…”

“How'd you find it?”

You had started to work at the cone with more enthusiasm. It had been forever since you treated yourself and you made a resolution to get out more often again. 

“Omega found it actually… kids seem to have a nose for this kind of thing, it's been awesome!”

You made a note to thank Omega, taking another lick of the sweet berry syrup. 

“I won't lie, I worry about that girl, Wrecker…”

His face fell for a second, and he focused on his own desert before finally,

“It's not lost on us… that this isn't the kind of life she should have,”

You nodded solemnly, regretting bringing the mood down.

“We're not gonna bring her here anymore.”

“You found somewhere for her to stay while you work?”

That uncharacteristic pinch to his brow again.

Oh,

“None of you are coming back, huh?”

“Not if we can help it…”

You remembered the antsy way Hunter and Tech were hurrying to wrap up with Cid. It must be true… and you sighed. You were gonna miss the odd band of clones. Especially- now that you thought about it,

“Is that why you stayed behind tonight? Clearing things up with me?”

…

“Yeah… I don't know, I thought I might've upset you and I… It didn't feel right, leaving for good without setting it straight,”

“So tonight's it then?”

“...yeah,”

You sighed, then swore as you noticed the melting creme drip down the back of your hand. You let out a small whine as it got between your fingers, already making you feel sticky. You reached for a napkin, noticing Wrecker had already finished his cone and was eyeing your movements as you made to wipe the syrupy mess away. 

You struggled, licking the melting side as you switched the cone to your other hand… but now that was the one holding the napkin and-

Without much warning Wrecker snatched your wrist. 

“It's best not to waste it!”

He licked your hand and your breath caught in your throat, eyes snapping to the peevish expression coloring his scarred features. His wide tongue slid between your fingers to get at the sweet creme and he pulled your hand closer, finishing by sucking at the soft, webbed flesh between your pointer and middle digits; he flicked his eyes to yours with a wink as he did so and your thighs clamped shut with a sudden rush of heat.  

It's best not to waste it…

You felt flames crawl over your face as you became suddenly aware of how crowded and public the little plaza was. By Kark, there were younglings present…

“I think…”

He planted little kisses to the back of your hand, up your forearm.

“... We should get back to the hangar… fast.”

You felt him smile against your skin before you were forcefully pulled up from the bench. 

~~~

Your back hit your office door with another hard thump and you pulled your already swollen lips away from his hungry kissing,

“Wait, I need to unlock it…”

It had taken longer to get back from the snack stand than to get there and you weren't sure you hadn't left a few you-sized dents in the side streets on the way. Your jumpsuit was already unbuttoned down to the waist and you're sure the buttons were left with the dents. Even with his obvious exercise of control the man was strong and your legs wobbled as he set you down by the keypad. 

You impatiently punched the code in and the door swished open. 

His hands found your hips again, dragging you into the small office and lifting you to sit on the desk. Flimsi crinkled under your ass as you rocked from the force of his lips finding yours, pulling your thighs to grind against you. You gasped as the bulge you felt fighting the fabric of his trousers. 

“Holy Maker…”

He chuckled at your muttered oath,

“How'd you think I got the name?”

You squinted quizzically up at his sloppy grin,

“That can't be why…”

“Nah… but that's what I told the GAR”

You snickered, gasping when he brought your attention back to the sizable challenge pressing between your legs with a quick hump, shaking the desk and your resolve. He leaned in kissing you, softer than before, mouth moving more carefully to feel the shape of yours sucking slowly on your bottom lip. 

“We don' have'ta go that far… but I could make it good for you…”

You tilted your head to look down again, tentatively reaching to feel the taught fabric, trying to gauge the actual size of him. The small groan that rumbled through him as you stroked his hardened cock settled things. 

“Do what you have to, Wrecker.”

He grinned, shoving his thumbs into the open neckline of your jumper to slip it from your shoulders. An arm wrapped around your waist and he gave your body a little hop as he tugged the gathered fabric past your ass. He assessed the boots and the loose legs of the jumper and decided to pull the clothes over your shoes, leaving you in your scruffy work boots and practical underthings. 

He kissed back up your thigh, tugging at the waist band of your panties with his teeth before those too were yanked down with a cascade of flimsi. 

You pulled the bra off as he looked between your legs, his tongue darted over his lips and he hesitated, coming back up to kiss you more; hands roaming up your hips to grab at your exposed breasts. 

You were tugging at the zipper of his top, the sound satisfying as the coat fell open exposing his chest to you. You ran your fingers over the map of muscle, tight abs and bulging pectorals littered with healed burns and cuts. He sighed at your touch, leaning into you so you could feel his skin pressed to yours. 

You kissed him again, slipping your tongue between his lips to deepen the need growing between you. Your fingers scratched into chest hair, a gentle, circular motion that brushed the soft strands and sent a wave of ease through him as the coat slipped off his arms. Then you were held to him, thick arms pressing you into his broad chest. 

You felt his hands wandering, strong fingers finding their way between your legs. He groaned against your lips as he felt how slick you were for him, a small wet spot forming on the desk from the heat of your arousal. 

He wasn't quite satisfied apparently, breaking the kiss to gently lay you back over the desk. His mass leaning over you made you feel helpless as he pressed more kisses against your neck,

“I need you more relaxed,”

It was mumbled low against your skin and you took a deep breath, catching the tension that tried to coil from where his lips pressed against you; first your collar bone, then exploratively down forming a cool trail across your breasts and down to your navel. 

His hands followed, pressing your breasts, rolling your nipples with his palms, thumbs pressing the skin of your stomach, following the path of your belly button as he sank between your legs. 

You gasped as you felt his tongue against your folds, a long, firm lap over the spread petals. He continued at that pace, slow, even licks; pressing into your clit but not focusing on it. Wide, rough hands were slowly rubbing your thighs, massaging the muscle with his thumbs, up your belly, then back down again. He wanted you to uncoil, coaxing you into a hazy, limp state. 

Eventually a thick finger probed your entrance, carefully penetrating into you, gently pulling at the ring of muscle as he withdrew. You mewled at the ministrations, feeling him stretch you gradually, gasping as a second finger joined the first. 

He started licking harder, moving his fingers in and out of you. Ragged pants started to pour from your throat. You were getting tense despite your attempts to stay calm and relaxed. His fingers would dip into you, then spread as he withdrew them, working the muscle looser while rubbing across the nerve endings to light sparks through you. You felt warmth wash over your senses, melting into your muscles with a breathy sigh as he gently brought you to climax. 

He made a pleased noise as you grew wetter around his fingers, his deep voice rumbling through your bones. His hand left you, fingers disappearing between his lips as he sucked them clean. Then his firm grip was around your hips, rolling you carefully to lay flat on your stomach. 

Your breath caught at his palms squeezing your ass, spreading you, taking you in from this angle. You looked over your shoulder, catching his eye as he looked over you and the corner of his mouth twitched. He stood, hands making for the clasps of his pants. The breath you were holding came out in a small whine as you felt the weight of his cock fall across your rump. It was large enough to feel twitching against the small of your back and a shudder went through you. 

He moved his hips, a few test thrusts between the round cheeks of your ass before handling himself to angle to your opening. You bit your lip as you felt him pressing against your folds. Still staring over your own back you watched as he spit on his own length, smoothing the saliva over his head before adding pressure to your entrance, coaxing your lips around him. 

“You sure you want this, mesh’la?”

Good question…

You reached over the desk to yank a drawer open, pulling out a hidden bottle and taking a swig. You felt the ease seep into you and you braced yourself. 

“I'm ready Wrecker…”

He pushed, pressure increasing to something almost white hot and painful, but never going over that edge as he eased back, then pressure again. You felt yourself stretch and let out a whimper as his head finally popped past the tight muscle of your opening. More spit landed where his flesh met yours, feeling almost cold on your heated skin. Slowly, he inched inside of you; taking his time and crooning soft little praises at the gasps you made. 

You took what you could, gripping the edge of the desk, feeling full as he ground against your limit. You both groaned as he withdrew, pressing back again to pin you to the desktop. Ecstasy ripped through you as he stroked against the nerves pressed so tightly to his girth. You cried out, eyes rolling back slightly at the overwhelming sensation. The desk shook with his next thrust and he grabbed your hips as you went limp, surrendering to the current that was setting your synapses ablaze. The rattle of the desk was loud as he worked himself in and out of you leaving you dazed and dancing on a pleasurable edge. 

The room pitched and you felt yourself lifted, strong arms wrapping under your thighs to lean you back against his chest. You lifted your arms back around his neck, cradling his head behind yours. He carried you perched on his shaft to the fresher, hitting the light and door switches with his elbow. Positioning you in front of the sink he spread your legs in front of the mirror. 

“Look how good you take me,”

He was nuzzling into your neck, forearms taught as iron bars lifted you then slid you back down. You watched your stomach ripple as he pushed against your insides. He wasn't even fully sheathed and you moaned pathetically at the sight of him inside you. 

Swinging his hips and arms in unison he brought you down on him. Fast, controlled, thumping into you with rough groans against your neck. 

You let yourself get lost in the crashing sensations; his chest flexing against your back, breath hot against your nape, his voice a persistent rumble through your core. There was no room for thoughts, your brain filled with nothing but whirring electricity that became louder, more frantic with every thrust. 

“Wrecker, I- I can’t-”

Before you could finish the thought, orgasm tore through your senses. Strong hands held you tight as you writhed in his grasp, shuddering around the cock snugged firmly inside of you. 

He kissed the back of your shoulder as you came down before he withdrew from you, turning you to sit on the counter. He tugged your hips to the edge, laying his cock on your belly and closing your thighs around his shaft. Hugging your knees tight he thrust against your legs, massaging his length against your clit and inner thighs.

You limply watched him hammer against you, harder than he would've dared inside. He grunted in satisfaction as your hands found his head against your belly, teasing the ridge as it moved back and forth over you. The friction of his cock against your folds was forcing ragged gasps from your throat and you moved with him, chasing one last high. 

Your thighs flexed, clamping over him as you came again and Wrecker let out a low moan, thrusting till his hips were against your thighs. Cum shot from him in ropes to splatter against your breasts and belly. 

He leaned more into the counter, bracing himself over your glazed torso to kiss your forehead, then nose, then lips. 

“Thank you, mesh’la,”

You were trying to catch your breath,

“No problem, big guy,”

“Can I call you?”

“My coms are always open,”

…

“Where is everyone?”

A small voice drifted in through the hanger,

“Maybe they took a break,”

Hunter and Omega had come back looking for their squad mate.

“I'll check the office!”

No! Omega,

The door to the office swished open and you both tensed. 

“Ah-uh, maybe they went to get something to eat… you know how Wrecker is.”

The door swished shut, and you breathed again, silently thanking Hunter for the save. Omega prattled on unawares,

“You're probably right! There's a twisty treat stand we found near here, I bet he went there!”

“Yeah, uh, let's go check,”

The voices drifted away and warm soft kisses found your lips again. 

“Let's get you cleaned up,”

“Please.”

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Tag List: @rinksu-no-joo

God, I want someone to draw Wrecker in his new gym clothes

modern au gym rat wrecker who has spent many years in basketball shorts and ratty tees but one day is surprised to learn that its no longer “in style” (his tween sisters words, not his), and thats how he ends up in the gym with shorts that have a 5 inch inseam and ya know what ive lost the plot. i forgot the point of this. just put that man in short shorts.

If bad batch requests are still open could we have wrecker with a GN Jedi reader who believes that wrecker is too good for them. Like just some insecurity comfort???

If not that’s fine!

Hi there! 💜

You know, the more I write for Wrecker, the more I am convinced he is the king of comfort. This request is perfect to explore that, so thank you for sending this in!

Heart Wide Open (Wrecker x GN!Reader)

Summary: When your doubts creep in, Wrecker is there to reassure you.

Word count: 1.2K

Warnings: None.

-- -- -- -- --

Suspended in the air before you, the pieces of your lightsaber bobbed like sea birds drifting above an ocean before diving for fish. Fingers splayed to the airborne components, you influenced the Force to rotate the central cylinder. You had an inkling where the fault had manifested, and assessing the split in the metal confirmed your suspicion.

With a flit of your wrist, the damaged chamber sunk into the box of spare parts beside you and a new barrel lifted to replaced it.

Your repairs rekindled the memory of constructing your lightsaber as a youngling, handpicking each segment that compelled you and spending hours assembling it. A flash of placid pride crossed your master’s face when you presented her the finished product and described each part to the most minute of details. Her patience and her kindness were traits you aimed to emulate in your adult life, and you hoped that wherever she was now in the Force, she was proud, that she looked upon you with that graceful smile and encouragement in her heart.

Behind you, a warm energy brushed against yours, and an instinctive grin lifted the corners of your lips. Wrecker attempted to be quiet whenever you were meditating or paying homage to your Jedi upbringing. That reverence, that silent reflection, had always been an aspect he admired in you, and he dreaded disturbing you in those moments.

“Hey, Wrecker,” you said, acknowledging his presence. As you cast a brief peek at him, his shoulders relaxed, and he took your recognition as his cue to approach. “I’m just finishing up here. Looks like that blaster shot hit a little closer than I thought.”

“Is it fixable?” he asked. “If you needed a part, Tech might have something you could use. He’s always tinkering.”

“It’s all good,” you assured him, clicking the pieces of your weapon together as you had done on hundreds of occasions in the past. In true Wrecker fashion, he ensured you had everything you required. You never wanted for anything for long. You were hungry, and food would find its way to you. Darkness seeped in and his capable arms were there to comfort you. You needed quiet, and he’d stand guard until the worlds shattered to protect your silence.

For a while, you both teetered on the outskirts of a relationship, your Jedi teachings and your undeniable affection for the clone battling until you had decided that with the Order gone, you were perhaps free to explore those avenues. While you did not wish to abandon your disciplines, the hour of the Jedi was over, and you had to get your bearings in a changing galaxy. Wrecker was part of your new life, you were adamant, and as soon as he learned of your requited feelings, so was he.

But enclosed within those shy glances and exchanges of sweet words, doubts persisted, doggedly striving to reach the most vulnerable parts of you now that you had opened yourself up to someone. Could you give Wrecker what he wanted, what he deserved? Were you truly the right person for him to offer his heart to? He always did everything he could for you, but for the most part you found yourself distracted, mentally wandering the empty halls of the Jedi Temple and searching on desperate feet for a remnant of the only life you’d ever known.

Concentrating on your current task, you clutched your reassembled lightsaber and tested the mechanism, giving the ignited weapon a few perfectly executed swings before deactivating the crystal within. The hum that had always protected you vanished with it.

“You’re thinking about it again, aren’t you?” Wrecker’s tone was understanding as he parked himself on the vacant bench beside you.

You shot him a remorseful expression and breathed aside the rough memories. “Sorry, I’ve been trying not to.”

“Hey, none of that. You don’t need to apologise,” Wrecker said, perceptive as ever and gentle with your feelings. “If you wanted to talk about it, you know I’ll always listen. But in the meantime, you reckon these might help?”

He foraged in one of the pouches on the strap across his chest and deposited several packets of your favourite snack onto the table, the colourful, crinkled wrappers catching the setting sunlight.

“You are too good for me,” you muttered, the thought slipping from you automatically, spoken with such conviction that Wrecker’s smile dropped an inch. There was no joke in your voice, no jesting edge of a flippant comment.

You smothered it with a forced grin once you realised your words, but the squad’s brawler knew you better than that. He had listened as you made similar self-deprecating remarks before, kept silent to spare you from the pain of having to explain yourself. Your insecurities had tiptoed in during your time with Clone Force 99, noticed mostly by Wrecker who distracted you with a funny remark or interesting fact to keep your mind off the uncertainty. Yet, your relationship shone a light on it in a way he understood you didn’t like, everything magnified and bare. Now and then, he felt guilty, as though he had placed those concerns at your feet himself.

“Don’t say that, darlin’,” he soothed, swinging his legs over the wooden planks of the bench to stand before you, eyes burning with love and his dependable hands cradling your cheeks. “Because it isn’t true. You are incredible.” He waved aside your shrug. “No, I mean it. There is such a deep kindness in you, a… hopeful glow. It’s amazing. I’d spend a million lifetimes keeping that light shining.”

Your fingers folded into his shirt as if he’d float away if you let go. The consistently insecure thoughts made it difficult to believe him, but his steady courage knocked at the sealed door in your mind and promised to wait. He would sit in the pouring rain of your worst doubts just so that he would be there with a smile and a hug the moment you peeked out from behind the apprehension of your own worth.

“You bring happiness to my life,” he said, placing a kiss to your creased brow. “And I hope I bring the same to yours.”

“Of course you do,” you replied without pause. You drank in his heat, his vibrancy within the Force like you were gasping for water and he was a wellspring in a never-ending stretch of sand.

A bright grin overtook his features, so devastatingly radiant and wonderfully him you couldn’t help but return it in kind. “Next time you have those doubts, you tell them we make each other happy, and that’s all that matters. Aim that lightsaber at it if you think it might work. I certainly wouldn’t want to mess with you with that in your hands.”

You chuckled to yourself and nodded against his chest as he pulled you close. The ocean left an imprinted scent on his civilian clothes, the slight hint of seaweed and the fresh air that had become his staple and your sanctuary. In his arms, those doubts dimmed, still there, but quieter, almost easy to ignore. He loved you. You loved him. And you would get through the torments of your pasts and any insecurities together. Cherished and supported.

Relax cyar’ika

Kinktober ‘24 - public thigh riding/fingering

Wrecker × F!reader

Rating: Explicit

Wordcount: 1.6k

Summary: You're in a relationship with Wrecker and he helps you relax a bit at 79s.

Notes: This is the second of a few shorter fics I wrote for Kinktober. If you have any special kink and clone you would love to see, my requests are open, I can slip in a few towards the end of the months. And yes I am incredibly horny for the big man.

You leaned back against Wrecker, your drink in hand as you tried to stay focused on the conversations around you. It was already late and you were tired, you could still feel the last mission in your sore muscles, but it wasn’t often that you and the boys had time off on Coruscant together, so you all went to 79s tonight.

The squad had settled into a corner table, tucked away from the crowd, it offered a bit of privacy and at least the music wasn’t deafening. Hunter, Tech and Crosshair had went off towards the bar a while ago and Echo was catching up with Rex and the rest of the 501st on the other side of the dancefloor leaving you with Wrecker.

You could feel his eyes on you.

"Hey," his deep voice rumbled as he leaned closer, his arm brushing against yours.

"You alright? You look kinda tense."

You glanced up at him, trying to play it off with a smile, but the weariness in your face betrayed you.

"Yeah, I'm good,” you said, glancing around the space. "Just, you know, a bit tired, would have prefered to stay on the ship with you."

Wrecker's grin widened, and he scooted a little closer, his knee brushing yours under the table.

"I know what you need," he teased, lowering his voice so only you could hear. "C'mere, why don't you hop on my thigh?"

Before you could react, he shifted you onto his lap, his massive hands guiding you until you were straddling his thick thigh. The table shielded you both a bit from the rest of the bar, but the closeness of his body, the heat radiating from him, made your breath hitch.

The moment you settled down, you could feel the solid muscle beneath you, and it sent a wave of heat rushing through your body.

His hands settled on your hips, giving you a gentle nudge to start moving.

"Wrecker," you whispered, glancing around nervously, but the way his thigh pressed against your core had your nerves melting into desire.

You shifted slightly, trying to focus on anything other than the heat building between your legs. Luckily the skirt of your dress was flowy and covered where exactly you were pressed against him.

Wrecker grinned, leaning in just enough for his breath to tickle your ear.

"I'll help you relax."

Your eyes widened, a thrill of excitement shooting through you.

"Here?" you asked, glancing around the bar, nervous about the crowd.

Wrecker's grin widened.

"Right here," he confirmed, his voice a low, teasing rumble. "Unless you're too shy?"

A part of you hesitated, but the way his massive body felt next to yours, the scent of him, the promise in his tone - it was too tempting to resist. You bit your lip and nodded, sliding closer to him.

"You'll be fine," he murmured into your ear, his lips brushing your skin. "Just relax and let me take care of you."

His grip on your hips tightened slightly as he guided your movements, making you rock against his thigh.

"There you go," he murmured, his hands gripping your hips as he guided you to move. "Just like that."

You gasped softly as the friction from his thigh began to build, your body responding immediately to the delicious pressure. The fabric of his pants rubbed against your soaked panties, and the sensation was overwhelming in the best way.

"Wrecker," you whispered, your hands gripping his shoulders for balance. "This feels.."

"Good, right?" he rumbled, his fingers digging into your hips as he helped you rock against him. "Told ya I could help."

You bit your lip to stifle a moan, your body already trembling with need. The bar around you seemed to fade away as you focused solely on the feeling of him beneath you, the way his thigh flexed and tensed with each movement. It was intoxicating, and you were already losing control. There had been a few times where it was difficult to find time and space for intimacy but you’ve never done anything as risky as this.

The pressure between your legs built quickly, and you could feel the slickness pooling in your panties as the friction sent sparks of pleasure through your body.

Wrecker whispered, his breath warm against your neck. "You're already so wet for me, cyar'ika, can feel you soaking through ma pants."

You bit your lip, trying to keep quiet, but the sensation was overwhelming. His thigh was thick and strong beneath you, every rock of your hips pushing you closer to the edge.

The way his hands moved over your body, how easily he controlled your movements - it was intoxicating. You tried to steady yourself, one hand on his chest, the other on his thigh and you could barely hold back a lewd moan when you found his big cock, hard and straining against his pants.

"Don’t ya worry." he murmured, his voice filled with heat. "Gonna let you take care of that when were back on the ship."

You sighed thinking about taking him in your mouth and just when you thought you couldn't take any more, his hand slipped under the hem of your dress, his thick fingers pushing aside your panties. Your breath hitched as he teased your clit, his fingertip brushing your wetness.

"Wrecker..." you whispered, your voice trembling.

"Shh, l've got you, no one’s gonna find out if you keep nice n’ quiet for me" he whispered, his lips grazing your earlobe.

He carefully pushed one thick finger inside you, and you gasped at how good it felt, the stretch deliciously filling.

"That's it, cyar'ika. You take me so well."

The sensation of his finger sliding in and out of you, slowly at first, was almost too much. Your fingers gripped his shoulders, needing something to ground yourself. You could feel the heat between your legs growing, the need for more building with every thrust of his finger.

"Good girl," he praised softly, his voice barely a whisper. "You're doin’ so good for me. Can you take another one without alarming everyone around?"

You nodded, breathless, and he rewarded you by slipping a second finger inside, stretching you even further. The sensation was overwhelming - his fingers were thick and always filled you so perfectly that your hips bucked forward on their own, seeking more.

"That's it," Wrecker whispered in your ear, his voice low and rough, making your body thrum with anticipation.

"You know I love those pretty little sounds, but you gotta keep quiet. You're doin’ so good, cyar'ika. So tight for me."

You could barely keep yourself together, your body trembling as the pleasure mounted. His fingers curled inside you, hitting that perfect spot, and you were so close, so ready to fall apart right there on his lap.

“Wreck..”

"You're close, aren't you?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "You wanna cum for me, right here? I can feel how tight you're getting."

You could only nod, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps. His fingers pumped in and out of you, his thumb brushing your clit as he whispered sweet praises in your ear.

As the pleasure began to crest, as you felt yourself losing control, Wrecker pulled you closer and kissed you. His mouth was hot and possessive against yours, swallowing your moans as your body convulsed with pleasure. You clenched hard around his fingers, your orgasm crashing over you with a force that left you trembling in his arms.

He kissed you deeply, muffling your cries as his fingers stayed buried inside you, drawing out every wave of your release. The intensity of it left you breathless, your body shivering with aftershocks as you slowly came down from the high.

When he finally pulled back, his lips still brushing yours, Wrecker smirked. He slipped his fingers out of you and glanced around making sure you hadn’t drawn any attention to you before he quickly licked them clean with a wide smile.

"Knew you could do it," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. "You were perfect, cyar'ika."

You leaned against him, fingers softly trailing over his scar, your heart still racing, your mind dazed from the intensity of it all.

"That was... incredible," you managed to say between breaths.

Wrecker chuckled softly, his large hand smoothing over your back.

"Told ya I'd take care of you." He nuzzled into your neck, kissing you again. "And you looked so damn pretty doin' it too.”

You couldn't help but smile, your body still buzzing from the pleasure he'd given you. It was as if nothing else in the world mattered except the way he made you feel.

Just as you were settling back into Wrecker's lap, your body still tingling from the intensity of your orgasm, you heard footsteps approaching the table.

Crosshair appeared, his ever-present smirk firmly in place as he slid into the seat across from you.

"Well, well," Crosshair drawled, his eyes narrowing in amusement as he glanced between the two of you. "What exactly were you two up to? Or should I even ask?"

You felt your face flush, trying to keep your cool under his sharp gaze, but before you could respond, Wrecker let out a deep, rumbling laugh.

"Just makin' sure she's relaxed and happy, Cross," Wrecker retorted with a grin, his arm tightening around your waist, pulling you closer.

"Gotta take care of the important things, ya know?"

Crosshair raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Hmm, sure looks like you've been taking that job seriously."

Wrecker winked, his tone light and playful. "Always, brother."

Crosshair let out a low chuckle, shaking his head before turning his attention back to his drink.

You couldn't help but laugh softly, feeling yourself at ease as you leaned back against Wrecker, the tension in your body finally gone and the warmth radiating from him making you feel more safe and at home than ever.

The Bad Batch and Comforting You (TBB x GN!Reader)

Summary: We all have bad days, and the Batch are there with plenty of comfort.

Warnings: None.

-- -- -- -- --

Hunter

When Hunter notices your distress, his initial reaction is concern, but once his senses kick in, he understands all you need is his presence. Rather than making declarations to harm anything or anyone that has upset you, he offers solace by holding you, lending an ear, and providing reassurance. Although it’s challenging to resist taking immediate action when something goes wrong, he becomes accustomed to responding to what you need. 

One afternoon, after going to the market with Omega, he came home and immediately noticed your low mood. He inquired about your well-being, but regardless of how much you tried to hide it, he could sense that you were not okay. He gave you time, engaging in conversations that always uplifted your mood until you felt comfortable discussing what had bothered you. With a lump in your throat, you recounted the events, determined to tell him before your tears and sobs took hold. He listened attentively, respecting your personal space, and embraced you tightly once you were done. In a tender gesture, he lightly caressed your back, offering comforting words and arranging a restful evening of watching your favourite holo-movies and indulging in snacks. 

Echo

Echo is an incredible listener who is always available to hear you out and offer support. When something bothers you or you need to vent, he listens, providing occasional nods to let you know he’s present and attentive, taking in every word you say. He feels helpless when he can’t provide practical assistance, but he’s always willing to offer cuddles and TLC whenever you need them. 

Throughout the day, you made an effort to hide your upset, but Echo could see that something had got to you. With sincere concern, he asked if everything was okay and was ready to respect your privacy if you didn’t want to discuss your difficulties. However, the moment you started to share, he was there, fully engaged and ready to help. He found a secluded spot for you to sit down and patiently waited for you to finish speaking. With your hand in his, he reminded you of your strength, promising you that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would overcome them together. 

Wrecker

Despite being sweet-natured, Wrecker is more than willing to eliminate anything or anyone that has upset you. He doesn’t freak out right away if you’re upset, but he definitely wants to know all the details to make sure you’re not hurt. After ensuring there is no immediate danger, he will attempt to distract you with your favourite activities. 

When you first started dating, both of you made a mutual agreement to communicate if either of you were feeling low. On one particular day, everything that could have gone wrong happened, and when Wrecker finally returned home, you were a mess. After making sure there was no direct threat, he focused on making you feel at ease. He got you something to eat, prepared your favourite warm drink, and wrapped you in a snug blanket, all the while reminding you of fond memories that make you smile. You spent the night snuggled against his chest, feeling secure in his embrace until both of you drift off to sleep intertwined.

Crosshair

The moment Crosshair sees you’re upset, he’s ready to jump into action. Despite his calm demeanour, he has already devised numerous solutions to the problem before you even finish telling your story. He finds solace in meticulously preparing for potential concerns, even though he knows unexpected situations can still arise. One strategy he uses to calm his mind is to embrace you, serving as a reminder that you are safe and showing his commitment to be there for you.

Throughout the entire day, you appeared to be behaving normally, but Crosshair could sense that something had bothered you. Your smile seemed less genuine, your responses were briefer than usual, and you were intentionally avoiding him. He knew it wasn’t his fault; early on in the relationship, you both discussed and agreed not to let any issues linger between you. While you didn’t show any signs of pain, he wanted you to know that he was available for comfort if you ever needed it. After dinner, you shared with him what had annoyed you. He caught on to the fact that you were just looking to vent and stayed quiet while you ranted. With care, he guided you to the couch, holding you tightly against him, and offering occasional reassuring comments as he rubbed your arm and kissed your forehead. 

Tech

Tech relies on his logical side to offer you consolation. He avoids repeating information you already know, recognising that it can be frustrating, especially when you’re upset. Nevertheless, if he thinks it will provide you with reassurance, he may delve more deeply into the topic. Before making any physical contact, he will inquire if you would like to be cuddled first. 

As you approached him with a problem, he could sense your hesitation and patiently waited for you to gather your thoughts and express what had happened. When he asked if it was something immediately threatening, you assured him it wasn’t, and he let you proceed. You found your words, and he remained focused, asking additional questions to gain a clear understanding of the situation. Witnessing the distress caused by the incident, he made you a drink and pulled you close as you rested your head on his shoulder. While comforting you with a hug, he expressed his perspective on the situation to provide encouragement that everything would turn out all right.