#i'll link the other fic in a reblog gimme a sec to go find it

[cosmickaz]

couple days ago, I read a fic with Wrecker going crazy bc Reader was wearing yoga pants and i would like to raise you this: the exact opposite.

Wrecker seeing you in the most worn-out, washed-out, painted-with-stains-of-unclear-origins, definitely not fitting you correctly, “just good enough for the corner store down the road but only when it’s dark out and you don’t have to worry about running into anyone you know”-clothes and suddenly he’s having a hard time breathing and his hands are tingling with the urge to grab you. Mans almost pops a boner right then and there and he has to stop himself from thinking too much about what it means because he never would have thought someone like you could feel this comfortable around someone like him. It’s like he just realized you actually feel at home around him and his brothers and now he has to take a minute to calm down and go sit with his feelings a little before continuing with the program. 

Between your armor pieces, your regular training clothes and the occasional flash of bare skin when you got injured, not to mention a shared living space, there really wasnt all too much you guys havent seen of each other. 

Of course, Wrecker hadn't looked. Well, he had, at first, really couldn't have helped it, but it was always so fleeting and the context had never been even remotely sensual, so neither of you had payed it any mind. Until one day, he did.

It had snuck up on him, you had snuck up on him so quickly, he never stood a chance.

He might have been used to seeing you in your armor, but the sight of you without them had his chest tightening and his palms sweating.

You looked so.. comfortable.

It wasn't the civilian clothing he'd seen you in before, the one you wore when you needed to blend in, or move with the mobility of lighter materials. It wasn't even the few pieces you'd shown Omega when she had asked you about your life before the war. You pulled them out of your pack and pointed out all the details of the design, conjuring up memories and the idea of the person you had been before. Wrecker had liked those, he listened to your stories and wondered how a bunch of clothes could say so much about the person wearing them. You had laughed and said how the markings on their armor was kind of the clone-version of fashion and all he could do was stare at you and try not to let his mouth hang open.

The clothes you were wearing now didn't have any notable designs on them. They didn't even fit you properly. The shirt was loose and the pants a tad too long and it was clear that none of the pieces were designed with any real purpose in mind. To someone like himself, a clone, that idea was entirely unfamiliar.

It hit him then, the thought that somehow, somewhere along the line, you’d made this place your home.