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#tbb wrecker x reader
neyswxrld · 3 days
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butterflies in your chest
Wrecker x reader
summary: Finally, you and Wrecker are able to take a long planned hike, which ends with a sweet picnic and some confessions!
warnings/vibe: established relationship, kisses, first time saying "i love you"
words: ~1770
a/n: happy bad batch eve! i just found this little oneshot and thought i could share it to calm our (my) nerves! i hope you enjoy it.
p.s.: english isn't my mother tongue, sorry for mistakes! also, i feel like my brain was a little afk during all of this. sorry for that, too!
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"Blanket?"
"Check."
"Sunscreen?"
"Cheeks. And on my head. And your face."
"The food?"
"Everything in here."
"Good. Ready to go?"
"Ready when you are," Wrecker grins and holds his hand out for you to take.
Smiling, you reach forward and place your hand in his, walk up to him and stand on your tip toes, to give him a small kiss on his, still slightly creamy cheek.
You feel how his grin widens under your lips and how his hand tightens around yours for a few seconds.
"Okay, let's go," you say, and together you walk out of the door.
The weather is sunny and warm, but the slight breeze allows you to cool off a bit, protecting you from overheating.
It was a perfect day for your date.
It was planned for quite some time already. While you both were dreaming of some piece and quiet time to relax, with some snacks to share and cuddling atop a blanket, waiting for the incoming nightfall, you never actually had the time or capacities to do a picnic in the woods.
But since you've finally settled down on Pabu and everything calmed down a bit, you are finally able to do just what you've dreamed of for so long.
Even though there isn't a big forest on the island, you both are fine with going down to the beach or looking for another spectacular but comfortable place to lay out your blanket.
The walk is like a hike with an open ending, and only to be finished when you find your perfect place, so Wrecker and you are walking hand in hand through the streets and into some looser, wilder terrain. 
Even though Pabu has a high population, and you'll always find a small cottage with one or two residents, the island still provides incredible nature.
A small lake follows your path, left and right are some spectacular bushes and plants with the prettiest colors. Above and beneath you are some cliffs that contribute to the mountainous terrain and provide a place to live for many animals.
"Has Tech told you about those birds?" you ask Wrecker as you see one of the white-grayish animals gliding above your heads and entering a small opening on the cliff's side.
Wrecker looks down at you, some sweat sticking to his forehead, before he turns his head at where you're pointing at.
"Uh, bet he did, but I can't remember," he smiles sheepishly and scratches his neck, looking at you with his brown eyes.
"Do you want me to freshen up your memories?" you ask him, knowing that he hates being so forgetful.
"Of course," he nods and looks at you, ready for your incoming ramble.
Grinning, you start to tell him about the animal and some specialties about its beak that is strong enough to dig holes into stone walls. Wrecker listens carefully and asks some questions here and there, encouraging you to share the knowledge you had from his brother, mixed with some of your own research.
You even take a break for a few minutes and watch one of the birds that decided to start digging an entry with purposeful hits.
"Can't promise I'll keep all of that in my head, but you're always welcome to freshen up my memories," he exclaims, looking down at you happily.
"Oh, I will, no worries," you answer and smile back up at him, before starting to follow your path again.
The two of you walk for some more time, and you tell him different things about the various animals you can see or hear, encouraged by his excited looks, before you think you've finally found your place. 
It was the edge of a cliff again, but there were different kinds of flowers and plants, making the floor a colored but beautiful mess. You can perfectly see the ocean from here, and you'll know the sunset is going to be amazing. The place is also secluded, a little bit higher up, so no one will come and disturb you, you're sure of that.
Wrecker puts down his bag and fishes out the blanket, shaking it a little bit before putting it onto the floor, careful to place it somewhere without many flowers, as not to destroy them.
Excited, you jump onto the fabric and pull him down with you, getting at your bags to pull out the different foods you took with you.
"I'm so hungry," he rumbles, and a second later you hear his tummy do the same.
Laughing, you place a plate in his hand and start to unwrap your stuff even faster, silently agreeing with him.
You sit close to him, comfortably kneeling next to him and almost touching his legs, which he holds in a cross-legged stance.
"The hike was tiring," you say, and Wrecker nods, holding a slice of jogan fruit up to your face.
Excited, you take a bite and reach for one of them yourself to do the same with him.
"Sweet like you," Wrecker grins, his smile so genuine and pure that you believe him without a second thought.
"But not as sweet as you," you answer, playfully.
Together, you sit and eat for a while, talking, smiling, laughing. Enjoying the view, the food and the company. The sun is shining down on the two of you, warming you up, and almost reflects the happiness you feel at the moment.
When it starts to wander closer and closer to the edge where the ocean kisses the sky, the evening lightning turns darker, golden, red.
The clouds and the sky play a game of red, blue and orange, leaving you two in awe. It isn't the first sunset you've witnessed here on Pabu, but it is by far one of the most mesmerizing ones. Especially since Wrecker is sitting next to you, adding to the beauty of the moment.
You share some sweet kisses and touches, holding each other tightly. You never wanted to go back home again, if you would be able to stay here with him.
Even as the sun swaps with the moon, the sky turns dark, and the stars start to shine bright, you keep on holding each other.
You look at him from the side, observing how his features are illuminated by the silver light. His scar, the crook of his nose, his lips that are pulled up into a small, relaxed smirk, like so often when he's with you.
You could stare at him for hours, not ever getting enough of him.
His big hands affectionately glide over your back, and he draws small patterns with the tip of his fingers. Your thumb, lying on his stomach, does the same.
Suddenly overwhelmed with a few feelings, you snuggle up a little bit more, pressing yourself closer to him.
Shortly, he turns his head over, to look at you, before tugging you right into to his side.
Your chest feels weird, but not in a bad way. It is warm, almost hot, and you feel like there are thousands of little bugs walking in your chest. It tingles, and you wonder again, how so often, if those are the butterflies everyone is talking about. But instead of having them in your belly, they are in your chest.
While you keep looking at him, you enjoy the easy silence that settled between you.  You're only able to hear the sounds of the sea, some birds in the distance, and his even, deep breaths.
The atmosphere is relaxed, balanced. Just right. Like always, when you're with him.
And at this moment, where you lay next to each other, and you're getting lost in his presence, you decide that now is the time.
None of you said it before, being quite too shy or not ready yet.
But at this moment, you know you're ready. You want him to know how you feel. Even if he's not able to say it yet.
You want him to know.
You take all of your courage together, take a deep breath and say his name.
"Wrecker," you whisper into his ear, feeling how your heartbeat quickens and how your fingers start to tingle.
"Yeah?" he asks and turns his head slightly so he can look at you.
The moon illustrates his facial features, make them shine and glow in the right ankles, and underlines his beauty once more. His brown eyes shine with so much kindness and love. They're almost sparkling, and for a second, you lose yourself in them.
Your chest tightens a bit, but still not in a bad way. It feels like your heart skips a beat, and you suddenly feel warm all over your face. You're nervous, but at the same time, you realize again, just how happy you are and how much you want these three words to come out of your mouth.
You take a deep breath, try to calm your nerves a little bit and finally say those words for the first time.
"I love you," you smile and give him a light kiss on the cheek, just beneath his eye.
You know he won't react badly to your words, but you still can't look into his eyes for a second. So you decide for another kiss.
You feel how a grin spreads on his lips. Not able to control them, you feel how yours turn upwards, too.
Your hands are almost shaking because of all the tingling, but you feel how some of the tension you didn't know you were holding leaves your body.
You feel good.
"Hey, Cyare," he whispers, as soon as you separate and are able to look into his eyes again. His arms tighten around your body, and you're pressed closer to him once more. Not that you're complaining.
"What?" you ask back, paralleling his words from just a few seconds ago.
"I love you," he now fully grins, repeating your words, and presses his rough but gentle lips against your temple.
He pulls you close on top of his chest and turns onto his back at the same time, so you're laying on top of him now, able to see his face.
Grinning, he comes closer and repeats his kisses again and again, spreading them all over your face.
Giggling, you gently lay your hand on his jaw, feeling the light stubble beneath your fingertips and moving your thumb over it in a rhythmic movement.
You feel light, happy. Your smile is almost as big as your face.
"I love you," you whisper again, barely able to hear it yourself.
"I love you," Wrecker mimics.
Your lips touch.
You feel warm and comfortable. Loved.
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MASTERLIST
TAGLIST
@isthereanechoinhere96 @trixie2023 @freesia-writes
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cloneficgiftexchange · 15 hours
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All of the fics from the bad batch exchange have officially been posted!
If you missed some of the amazing stories written for this event, here is a list of them, all organized by character and in alphabetical order by title. You can also access a collection of those who posted their work on AO3 HERE! It’s still open in case anyone ends up posting there in the future.
If you liked a story, consider reblogging it! Reblogs are a great way to show appreciation for an author’s work. Reblogs to signal boost this list are greatly appreciated as well.
NSFW fics are strictly 18+ and are marked as such. 
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Aim For The Heart by @alegendoftomorrow
Broken and Grazed, Loved and Saved by @221bshrlocked
Interesting (NSFW) by @flyiingsly
Me and You and Midnight by @theunderscorekinginyellow
Mine by @arctrooper69
Step Into The Daylight by @imaginesfordifferentfandoms
Take Me Out by @masterjedilenawrites
The Right Wrong Turn by @intricatechaosofyou
The Stakeout (NSFW) by @isaidonyourknees
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Echo and the Tooka by @hunterscyarika
I'll be needing stitches by @ladyanidala
No More Words by @hexerein
One Drop Among Millions by @autistic-artistech
Rather Be Hurt Than Be Okay by @rinwritesfics
The Commander (NSFW) by @heavenseed76
We'll Make It Out by @alegendoftomorrow
Working Parts by @cc--2224
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Built to Fall by @imarvelatthestars
Infectious Love by @dragonrider9905
Keep You Safe by @starjedi86
Lightsaber Shenanigans by @urfriendlyneighbornightfury
patched up by @starboytech
Small Days and Grand Gestures by @orbital-mirror
The Galaxy Can Grant A Second Chance by @ghostofskywalker
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Beach Day Surprise by @deezlees
Of Honeysuckle and Haiku by @frostycatblr-fandom-files
Softness Suits You by @knightprincess
Somewhere Over The Rainbow by @apocalyp-tech-a
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In The Garden Would You Trust Me? by @jedipoodoo
It's A Tradition, Right? by @melliejellybellybean
Sweet Promises by @ladysongmaster
Wedding Vows by @captainpains
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Ballroom Blitz by @skellymom
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vodika-vibes · 1 day
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hi again!! i figured since your follower event is almost over i’d request one more thing from you! i was thinking topaz with wrecker please during the early morning like breakfast time if that makes sense?
the reader is kinda like the opposite personality to wrecker (not like totally mean but like they’re quiet and can come off as intimidating to most people), but wrecker is the only one who can make the reader smile and laugh and stuff like that. and can you please make the reader gender neutral?
Syrupy Kisses
Summary: You’re not much of a breakfast person, the most you do is have some caf as you start your day, but Wrecker is.
Pairing: TBB Wrecker x GN!Reader
Word Count: 616
Prompt: Topaz - Affectionate Love
Warnings: One suggestive comment
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly
A/N: Thank you for your request! I hope this is close to what you wanted. I personally don't like eating breakfast, something I learned from my mom, so the reader is the same way.
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“Morning, Mesh’la!” Wrecker says from where he’s digging around the cabinets as you enter the kitchen. “I didn’t wake ya, did I?”
You shake your head, and then, realizing that he can’t see you, you add, “No, you didn’t. No need to worry, Wreck.”
He turns and beams at you over his shoulder, “Good! I’m making breakfast. Want some?”
“Just some caf, Wrecker. There’s no need to go through all that trouble for me.” You reply as you step around the table and slide your arms around his waist.
“It’s no trouble. I’m happy to do it.” He carefully turns in your arms and rests his strong arms on your shoulders, “I’m making waffles,” He tempts, “With chocolate chips.”
“Mm, tempting, but I’ll stick with the caf.”
His hands drop to your waist, and he effortlessly lifts you to sit you on the counter next to where he’s working, “You’re gonna waste away, mesh’la.”
“With as much as you feed me, I highly doubt that.” You lean against the wall and watch him pour you a mug of caf, and prepare it like you prefer, and then he presses it into your hands.
“One caf,”
You gratefully take the mug and set it next to you, before you reach out and lightly press your hand against his cheek, “You’re too sweet to me, Wrecker.”
He leans his hip against the counter, and leans into your touch, “Well now, I’m sure that’s not possible.” Wrecker replies in a quiet rumble. 
You laugh softly, “I got a comm from my sister last night, after you fell asleep.”
“Oh? What’d she say?” He asks as he taps the inside of your knee to make space for him between your legs.
“That it’s not nice of me to intimidate someone as kind as you into dating me.” You reply blandly.
Wrecker laughs, his forehead falling to rest on your shoulder, “Intimidating? Oh, mesh’la, you’re quiet sure. But not intimidating in the least.” He pulls back and presses a kiss to the tip of your nose, “Omega is more intimidating than you.”
Your lips curl up into a smile as you press your free hand against his chest, “I’m not sure how I feel about being deemed less intimidating than a thirteen year old girl, but-”
He laughs again, and this time leans in to kiss you properly. 
Like everything else in his life, Wrecker kisses with an enthusiasm that would be overwhelming if you weren’t able to match it. “I think your sister just doesn’t know you well, mesh’la.”
“She’s always thought I was a bit scary.” You admit.
“Quiet. Not scary.” Wrecker kisses you again and again. “I don’t think you’re scary in the slightest. I think you’re perfect. My perfect mesh’la.”
Your face heats, and Wrecker grins at you. “I’m hardly-”
“Mm, the most perfect. When you kiss me. When you cuddle with me. When you do that thing with your tongue that I really like-”
You press your hand over his mouth, your face burning a little hotter, “I thought this was breakfast hours, not praise me until I can’t function hours.” You say.
He kisses the palm of  your hand, “I can do both. I’m a very talented man. And you deserve all of the praise.”
“Please don’t.”
He chuckles and kisses you one more time, “I’ll stop, but only because I love you and because you said please.”
“I love you too,” You whisper, “And, thank you.”
He winks at you and kisses you one more time, before he finally pulls back to start making breakfast properly. And you can’t help but think that you want this forever. Or as long as he’ll have you.
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Text
Y/N: Get out of my room, Wreck!
Wrecker: *being a little shit and standing outside the doorframe* I’m not in your room!
Y/N: HUNTER-
Wrecker: Hey! No fair! You can’t just call Hunter every time you want to get your way!
Y/N: Fine.
Y/N:
Y/N: CROSSHAIR-
Wrecker: *immediately running away* That’s so much worse and you know it!
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trashy1turtle · 10 months
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Yeah, I'm fine
*Types "«character name> x reader" into tumblr search bar*
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littlemissmanga · 5 days
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The Slow Stretch
Pairing: Wrecker x f!Reader
Warnings: This is all spice. Rated E for explicit. There's no plot. Barely a framing device. Size kink, like really that's 90% of it, praise kink is also strong in this one. 18+ only please, if you don't like smut please don't interact but do not put a label on this!
Also, lazy writing but Tumblr wouldn't let me use bullets so I apologize this isn't as smooth as some of my other stuff. It is still pretty delicious, if I do say so myself.
W/C: 1,713
Summary: I had a very vivid thought about what a session with Wrecker would look like if you had a harder time taking him. Guys this thot consumed me and then I imagined how he'd encourage you through that and what soft praise would sound like coming from him ... and I became so unwell I had to get this written. It's pure filth. Enjoy.
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Imagine sitting on Wrecker’s lap, three of his fingers buried in your cunt. He doesn’t move them, doesn’t curl them to make you see stars. He’s learned that’s how you get too overstimulated too quick.
But he has to prepare you, to make you come just enough that your tight walls can relax enough to accept his much larger size.
So he just holds you close on his lap, knuckles deep in your pussy as he coos at you to relax.
“I got ya, pretty girl,” he says, his large, warm hand rubbing soothingly on your lower stomach, pressing down just a little. It wasn’t much at all, but it was enough to force you further down on his fingers, the calloused tips now brushing mind numbingly against a spot that makes your vision blur. “Don’t clench, baby. Keep them muscles nice an’ relaxed for me. You can do it, I know you can.”
You don’t want to disappoint him, so you focus as hard as you can, concentration cutting through the fuzzy pleasure vibrating through your core as you force yourself to unclench your muscles and melt into his warm, broad chest behind you.
 “Tha’s it. That’s perfect, sweetheart.” His other hand comes down to draw gentle yet firm circles directly on your clit, forcing bolts of electricity through you. “One more. Just gotta give me one more an’ I think I can fit.”
You shiver on him, around him as his relentless assault on your clit gives you no other choice than to surrender to the pleasure as he rips it from your body … leaving you perfectly boneless and ready for him.
“Please, Wreck, please. Wanna feel full.”
With a deftness you’ve come to expect from Wrecker, he presses his fingers deeper, pushing against that tantalizing spot just once more before replacing them with his cock. He pushes in slowly, pulling you back so your head rests on his shoulder. He can see your face now, his eyes never leaving it, alert for any hint of discomfort even as he groans deep at the incredible way your walls constrict around him as he lowers you onto him.
Your back arches off him, your legs curling instinctively to give him more room, to spread yourself further to ease his progress. You vaguely remember you need to relax, but the stretch of him everywhere inside you, pressing not just against one pleasurable spot but all of them at once … It’s involuntary the way you convulse around him, the pleasure from one area flaring up before the pleasure from another can even fade.
Never before have you understood what it meant to be so deliciously full. You lose coherent thought, your entire being focused on experiencing the sensations coursing through your nerves.
Wrecker pauses as he all but bottoms out, just a few inches unable to sit inside you comfortably. Doesn’t matter. All he can focus on is breathing. The way your walls undulate around him, the way he can feel the intense pleasure ricochet through your body and into his threatens to push him over the edge.
“Shhh, pretty girl … need you to relax. I don’t wanna end this too soon, d’you?”
You whimper and shake your head back and forth dramatically. Still trapped in a hazy fog, forming words is beyond you but you need to make your immense displeasure at the idea of him leaving you empty and wanting after pushing you over the edge of heaven known.
“Tha’s good. So take a deep breath for me.” Again, his hands came to rub soothingly against you, this time trailing along your sides from your knee to your ribs and back again. You could feel Wrecker’s chest expand with each deep breath, a warm encouragement for you to do the same. So you did. Over, and over, until the tension slowly leeches from your muscles.
Soon, the desperation fades as well. But the pleasurable haze does not. It leaves you pliant and dazed on Wrecker’s lap. You remain draped back over him, but now your limbs hang limp. You trust him to keep you upright.
 He moves your legs outside his own, spreading you wide around him. Looking down, he can see how wet and puffy your lips are, so red and swollen around him. He groans into your shoulder and feels his cock twitch inside you. You cry out instantly, but don’t tense beyond a quick pulse he could tell you couldn’t control.
“Take me so good, sweetheart. Knew you’d be able ta do it.”
You hum in contentment. This is what you were craving when you approached Wrecker earlier. It wasn’t just to make the most out of your precious alone time. But a bone-deep need to be consumed by him. And now you were.
“You okay? Don’ go quiet on me now.”
A gentle press of his knuckles — still a little wet from your juices — turns your head to face Wrecker, a gentle smile trying to hide the glimmer of concern in his eyes.
“M’fine,” you manage to mumble. You decide actions are easier, so you nuzzle into the crook of his neck, lips brushing his sensitive skin there and curling into a smile at the choked sound he makes in response. “So fine. So full. ‘T’s perfect.”
“Good.” He pushes your legs together, mindful of the strain he must have put on you keeping you spread open. The movement draws a prolonged moan from you, but it’s gentle enough to keep you from getting desperate again. His thumbs run firm strokes against the top insides of your thighs before circling around your middle and holding you to him.
He knows it won’t be long before the pressure that’s blissing you out now will turn to pain soon. The constant stimulation wears you out quickly. That’s why he loves when you get like this — needy not for how he can take you, but just for him. He craves getting to hold you close and feel you surround him just as much as he sees you crave him filling you to your breaking point. A small thrill runs through him, knowing only he can make you feel this full, this good.
Eventually, once your cunt has completely relaxed around him, when your eyes have closed and even your pleasant little hums have quieted, Wrecker brings his hand once again to your clit. This time, he keeps his strokes gentle, coaxing your next orgasm from you. “Doin’ so good for me. Lettin’ me play with ya an’ stretch you out like this.”
For once Wrecker’s voice is subdued. He’s not whispering, but his gentle rasp is the softest you’ve ever heard him before. It rumbles through you, waking you slowly from the foggy, trance-like state you fell into. Without thinking, you shift your hips, trying to catch that slight tickle that made your sensitive flesh tingle.
And then you do. His rough thumb catches on the hood of your clit, making you clench all at once around him. Your hands fly to his forearms that are caging you in on either side of your hips, squeezing at the intensity you’re feeling.
“Hold on to me all ya need. I got ya.” Wrecker’s free hand flexes under your thigh as his other continues its almost painfully gentle ministrations.
“R-right there,” you breathe, knowing Wrecker is out of patience and you are out of time. With a hum, Wrecker focuses his attention repeating the motion to your exact request. But he keeps his pace smooth and controlled. He knows this is gonna be intense for you. So he’s gonna be as gentle as he can.
The slow, steady push combined with how deliciously Wrecker fills you guides you to the edge of what you know will be an intense orgasm. His steady strokes leaving no question to the exact moment your body will be pushed over. Even so, you’re still unprepared when it happens.
“Let me feel you, sweetheart.”
Every since inch of your body tenses as you seize in pleasure. The walls of your cunt spasm harshly, simultaneously pulling Wrecker ever deeper and pushing him out all at once.
You can barely feel your body. All you know is the bliss that wraps every inch of you in its embrace.
But Wrecker can definitely feel your body. Can feel the way your walls threaten to strangle him and he would happily welcome it at this rate. His hips begin finally thrusting into you as his thumb continues its assault on your clit, noticing the way you jump at each pass.
“WRECK” The cry is ripped from your throat as a wall hits you.
But Wrecker’s attention is pulled by the feel of water hitting his legs. He curses when he looks down to see he’s soaked. “Kark I love when you squirt all over me.”
You can only moan as he fucks you hard now, seeking his release as your body finally offers absolutely no resistance. Absently, you can feel the way you drip around him. Delight zings the edges of your consciousness as you realize to yourself, I was able to take him.
The indulgent satisfaction only intensifies, melting into a lava that crawls through your veins as Wrecker grunts once more into your neck and after two more thrusts, presses himself as deep as he can get to come inside you.
Neither of you move for a moment, too overstimulated and sore. Soon, though, Wrecker wraps you in his arms and, as slowly as he can, pulls himself from you, earning several shivers and whimpers. He coos and presses kisses to the side of your face and forehead at each one to soothe the sting.
Finally, when he’s completely out, you both groan in unison. You can feel the surge of his cum leaking out of you, cooling the abused flesh of your hole. And based on the angle of his eyes, he’s watching it drip out of you on to the floor below.
“I’ll get ya cleaned up,” he offers in a hoarse voice.
You tighten your grip on his arms. “Just … just hold me a little more?”
You can feel his lips stretch against the top of your head. “’Course. Long as you need.”
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Taglist: @dreamie411 @wings-and-beskar @starrylothcat @sev-on-kamino @wolffegirlsunite
@secondaryrealm @idontgetanysleep @multi-fan-dom-madness @dystopicjumpsuit @sinfulsalutations
@sunshinesdaydream @wizardofrozz @anxiouspineapple99 @dhawerdaverd @mythical_illustrator
Divider art by @pinkiemme, divider by @freesia-writes
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Note
Hi. Can you write something spicy with Wrecker x f! reader with the prompt 62. “Is that my shirt?” Maybe reader needs new clothes during a mission and she forgets her spares on Kamino, leading her to wear Wrecker's. She takes advantage of the situation to tease him a little, but we know Wrecker is a little innocent, until Crosshair opens his eyes.. "If you don't fu** her, I will." 😂
Hi,
Thank you so much for this request, I absolutely loved writing it!
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What's Mine is Yours
While working on a mission on Corellia, a clothing mishap leads to much more than you anticipated.
Pairing: Wrecker x F!reader
Word count: 4.2k
Rating: 18+ MINORS DNI!
Warnings: accidental clothes sharing, reader described as busty, lewd comment as motivation (one guess who it comes from…), confession of feelings, idiots in love, first kiss, oral (f!receiving), face sitting, fingering, semi-clothed sex, unprotected PiV, squint for size and strength kink.
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“Where the hell is it?” You huff, hands scrambling through your backpack as you pull out your belongings, scattering them across the dresser in the dingy hotel room.
You and the boys had been sent to Bela Vistal, a small mountain city on Corellia. The Jedi had caught wind of a shady auction, with whispers of a Holocron up for grabs. It was your job as a squad to scope the place out, gather as much intel as possible, and strike and extract the Holocron if the opportunity presented itself.
By now, you’re used to working with limited information. As a civilian handler, it was your job to fill in the blanks and help the boys with anything they needed to successfully complete their missions – something you’d spent over a year doing remarkably well at. Today that had included wandering around the city with Tech, pretending to be together – out of them all, his appearance was less likely to arouse suspicion. You’d conversed politely with market vendors and cantina owners, asking subtle questions to discover more about the auction.
Ultimately, it had been a fruitless endeavour, and the pair of you had returned to the hotel as the sun had been setting, food in hand. You’d excused yourself after eating, slipping back into your room via the door connecting the two rooms you’d rented for a quick shower.
And now here you were, furiously rifling through your belongings for a clean shirt. You’d packed one; you swore you had. Fingers finding soft fabric, you let out a small noise of triumph, prying the material from your backpack. Towel falling to the floor, you shimmed on a clean pair of panties and some sleep shorts before dragging on the top. Only once it was over your head did you realise something was off. Either you’d suddenly lost a lot of weight or…
Scrambling for the neckline, you twist and turn until you can see the tag and the large ‘W’ sewn into it. “Dank farrik.” You mutter, teeth sinking into your lower lip at the realisation that you’d somehow packed Wrecker’s shirt instead of your own.
Taking a deep breath, you looked at yourself in the mirror on the back of the fresher door. The oversized garment hit mid-thigh, the sleeves extending far beyond your hands. The only saving grace was that your boobs took up enough room that it gave the shirt a little bit of shape. You couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation.
The thought of going out into the field wearing Wrecker’s clothing was hilarious, but your laughter soon subsided as you really looked at yourself. Oversized it might be, but it almost…suited you. And though it was clean, you lifted the collar to your nose and inhaled, picking up on a sweet scent that seemed to linger on all of Wrecker’s belongings.
You’d found great comfort in that scent over the last few months, drawn towards Wrecker and his infectious grin. Lips tugging into a smile, a tender warmth spread through you as you thought about the countless times Wrecker had been there to lighten the mood with his quips and laughter and how his protective nature made you feel secure amid the uncertainties of life.
The realisation of what your feelings meant hit you like a wave, and as you stood there, a myriad of emotions swirled within you. The laughter that had filled the room moments ago was replaced by a soft, introspective silence. As you continued to gaze at yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t help but acknowledge the depth of your connection with Wrecker. It went beyond the professional companionship forged across dangerous missions. It was something more personal, something that had quietly grown amidst the chaos of your work.
“Oh, kriff…” You whisper, staring at your own wide-eyed reflection. The sound of a knock on the connecting door interrupts your thoughts. Startled, you turn towards it, momentarily forgetting about the shirt you were wearing. Smoothing down the fabric, you move across to open the door, revealing Hunter.
“Thought you might’ve drowned.” He quips as the door opens; your showers never usually take so long. Gaze dropping down, Hunter takes in the sight of you, chuckling. “Well, looks like you’re drowning, alright.”
“I must’ve grabbed the wrong shirt in our hurry to leave Kamino.” You admit sheepishly, feeling warmth in your cheeks as Hunter steps aside, revealing you to his brothers.
To his credit, Tech offers you a reassuring smile while Crosshair snorts in amusement. But it’s Wrecker’s reaction that catches you off guard the most.
Wrecker’s eyes widen as his gaze rakes down your body. “I-Is that my shirt?” He asks, swallowing thickly. Heat creeps across his cheeks as he admires you, the curves of your body making it look entirely different than it did on him. He can feel the heavy thud of his heart, and for a moment, the room is filled with an almost tangible tension. Wrecker stands frozen, his eyes locked onto you.
“Yeah, I, uh, must’ve grabbed it by mistake.” You stammer, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his intense gaze.
Wrecker blinks, tearing his eyes away from you to glance at Hunter, Tech, and Crosshair. Hunter raises an eyebrow, clearly finding the situation entertaining but not commenting further. Tech adjusts his goggles, a knowing glint in his eyes, while Crosshair smirks, thoroughly amused. Clearing his throat, Wrecker manages to break the silence. “Well, it looks... good on ya.”
The sincerity in his voice surprises you, and you catch a flicker of something in his eyes that you can’t quite place. You give a nervous laugh, trying to diffuse the awkwardness. “Thanks, Wreck. I’ll wash it and get it back to you.”
“Nah, keep it.” He says quickly, almost too quickly. “Looks better on you anyway.”
The room falls into another awkward silence as Wrecker scratches the back of his head, unsure how to navigate the sudden shift in the atmosphere. It’s rare to see the big, boisterous man at a loss for words.
Hunter, always the pragmatist, breaks the tension. “Alright, enough of the fashion show. We’ve got a mission to focus on.”
The seriousness of the mission looms over the room, momentarily overshadowing the awkwardness. You gather around the table, holomaps of the city and your datapads spread out as you discuss the action plan.
As the discussion progresses, Wrecker finds his eyes straying to you often, trying to commit the vision of you in his clothes to memory, the way it drapes over your frame and the subtle scent of your shampoo that he knows will linger on the garment now too.
The realisation hits him like a ton of bricks – the feelings he’s been trying to suppress, the concern that goes beyond the missions, the warmth he feels when you’re around – it’s all there, staring him in the face.
Wrecker clears his throat again, attempting to focus on the plan you’re all hashing out, not the crazy beating of his heart. He chimes in enthusiastically, but his mind keeps drifting back to you. As the planning continues, Wrecker catches the knowing look Tech throws him. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, trying to concentrate. He wonders if you feel the same, if the newfound awareness is mutual.
Finally, the planning ends, and with your usual round of goodnights, you’re back in your room, the connecting door firmly shut. Only once you’re gone does Wrecker feel like he can breathe again.
“Real subtle there, big guy,” Hunter comments, giving Wrecker’s shoulder a pat as he passes him.
“What?” Wrecker questions, playing dumb. He’s not quite ready to admit his feelings to his brothers; he’s just starting to come to terms with the recent revelation.
None of them are fooled. Tech reaches up, adjusting his goggles. “You were admiring her quite intently.” He points out.
“I would, too, if she were wearing my shirt.” Crosshair chimes in, leaning back on the small couch in the room, propping his feet up on the table as he feels Wrecker’s eyes narrow in his direction. “But hey, if you won’t kriff her, I will.” He comments, unafraid to poke the bear.
In sync, Hunter and Tech facepalm.
A flash of anger courses through Wrecker. “You wouldn’t.” He growls, hating the very idea. 
“Wouldn’t I?” Crosshair goads. “She’s a pretty little thing. Bet she’d looked even prettier underne-“
“Hey!” Wrecker’s sharp shout cuts him off. “You don’t talk about her like that. She deserves better, and I won’t let ya disrespect her. Not when she’s the best thing to happen to us in a long while and always lookin’ out for us.”
Amusement curls at Crosshair’s lips. Truth told, forcing those words out had been horrible – he respected you too much – but it had given him the ammunition he needed to make his point. “Hm, sounds like you might have some feelings there, Wrecker.”
Realising he’s been caught in one of his younger brother’s traps, Wrecker groans in frustration, shooting Crosshair a glare that bounces straight off him. With a sigh, Wrecker’s shoulders sag, and he glances over his shoulder towards the connecting door to your room.
Worry curls through him. He did have feelings for you, that much he’d realised, but he wasn’t sure how you felt. The thought of making things awkward or disrupting the dynamics of the squad by introducing personal feelings weighed heavily on Wrecker’s mind.
Hunter picks up on his brother’s internal struggle. “Wrecker, if you’ve got something to say to her, just say it. We’re all adults here. We’ve faced worse than admitting feelings.”
Wrecker sighs. “I just don’t wanna mess things up, y’know? What if she don’t feel the same way, and it makes things weird?”
Tech chips in with his usual logical perspective. “Statistically speaking, relationships formed within a close-knit team can enhance cooperation and overall performance. Emotional bonds can be beneficial.”
Wrecker shoots Tech an incredulous look. “You suggestin’ I tell her I like her ’cause it’s statistically beneficial?”
Tech pushes his goggles back up his nose. “I am merely presenting a logical argument in favour of expressing one’s emotions.”
A noise of frustration slides from Crosshair’s lips, and he pushes himself off the couch. Grabbing Wrecker by the arm, he drags him over to the connecting door, banging his fist against it a few times. “She was eyeing you up, too. Don’t overthink. That’s Tech’s job.” He insists, returning to the couch, shaking his head while muttering about Wrecker’s lack of game.
Hearing you say the door was unlocked, Wrecker takes a deep breath before pushing it open, sliding into your room, letting it click shut behind him.
With Wrecker gone, Hunter, Tech, and Crosshair exchange glances before arranging themselves on the couch to play Sabacc. “You swapped her shirt out of her pack,” Hunter comments as Tech deals the deck, his eyes darting over to Crosshair.
With a shrug of his shoulders, Crosshair doesn’t bother answering; instead, he picks up his cards. Hunter couldn’t prove anything.
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Looking up from the dresser, where you’d been trying to organise your belongings back into your backpack, you smile at the sight of Wrecker standing with his back pressed to the door. “Hey, Wreck. Everything okay?” You ask, abandoning your repacking to give the gentle giant your full attention.
Wrecker’s heart pounds in his chest as he steps further into your room, the weight of the revelation he’d shared with his brothers settling in his chest. He grapples with the best way to express his feelings to you, scratching the back of his neck out of nervous habit.
“Uh, yeah, everything’s fine.” He mumbles, avoiding direct eye contact for a moment. “I, um, just wanted to talk to ya about somethin’.”
You tilt your head curiously, a small smile playing on your lips. “Sure. What’s on your mind?”
Wrecker took another deep breath, his gaze finally meeting yours. “Well, it’s about... us. I mean, you and me. I’ve been feelin’ things, and I just gotta say it. I really like you. I like ya a lot.”
The sincerity in his voice is unmistakable, and your heartbeat quickens in response. Surprise paints your face, delight seeping into your veins that your feelings were returned – that he’d come here to share them with you.
“Wreck.” You begin, your voice soft. “I’ve... I’ve been feeling the same way. I just didn’t know how to say it.”
Relief washes over Wrecker’s features, and a wide, genuine smile spreads across his face. “Really?” he asks as if confirming that he wasn’t dreaming.
You nod, your own smile mirroring his. “Really.”
Wrecker chuckles nervously. “Well, guess Crosshair wasn’t entirely wrong about us eyein’ each other up.”
Your jaw drops a little. You’d thought you were being subtle, but you should’ve known the man with super-human vision would catch you out.
Wrecker takes a step closer, gently cupping your face in his large hands, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. “I’m not great with words, but I really do care about ya.” He confesses.
“I care about you too, Wreck. And you don’t need to be great with words.” You reply, your eyes locked with his. “Actions speak louder.”
“Then let me show ya.” Wrecker murmurs, head dipping down to kiss your lips tenderly. Large hands move to rest on your hips, pulling you closer. One of your hands finds home at the nape of his neck, keeping his lips against yours as the other settles on his upper arm.
You taste like heaven, like everything Wrecker has ever wanted and dreamed about. His grip on you tightens ever so slightly, but he’s cautious, not wanting to accidentally hurt you. The kiss breaks a moment later, eyes locked on one another as you pull apart, chests heaving. Desire swirls in your gaze, and Wrecker wants to worship you. But he’s conflicted – is this too soon? Do you want this too?
Palms smoothing across Wrecker’s body, you take his hands in your own, walking backwards the few steps to the bed. Sinking to sit on the edge of it, you guide Wrecker down with you, a thrill zinging through you as he wraps an arm around your middle and hauls you further up the bed before settling above you. With one hand supporting most of his weight, you marvel at how warm and broad he is, your body hidden under his as he presses against you, lips finding yours again for a searing kiss.
You’re so small beneath him, so delicate and so pretty, with your hair fanned across the sheets, your beautiful eyes looking up at him with such adoration. Wrecker can’t resist kissing you again, savouring your shared feelings. Tentatively, his hand roams to your thighs, large palm smoothing across soft skin, creeping up, ruching his shirt as his fingers skim under the edge of your sleep shorts.
The gentle touch makes your breath stutter, a low noise sliding from your lips, muffled by the kiss.
Wrecker pulls back, watching as your eyes flutter open. “Too much, babe?” He asks quietly, unsure whether the noise is good and not wanting to push too much.
Shaking your head, you lean up to pepper kisses across his jawline. “More. Please.” You ask, heat building in your belly.
Thrilled, Wrecker breaks out into a grin, shivering as your hands pry his shirt up and off his body. Your fingers fan over his bare chest, tracing every muscle and scar. His pants are next to be discarded, your sleep shorts joining them on the floor before your lips meet again in a needy kiss. Your panties go, followed by his boxers, but as you go to remove his shirt, Wrecker’s fingers still the action.
“Leave it on, babe.” He admits, a flush on his cheeks. There was something so intrinsically hot about you wearing his clothes.
A noise of delight leaves you, followed quickly by one of surprise as Wrecker rolls you both, placing himself beneath you. Straddling him, it’s impossible to ignore the press of his thick, hard cock. It feels enormous, and you’re almost afraid to look down.
Thankfully, you’re spared as Wrecker grabs your ass, huge hands dwarfing it as he hauls you up his body.
Wrecker groans, hands squeezing as he draws you further up. “Want you to sit on my face, babe. Lemme eat that pretty pussy before I kriff ya.”
Heat strikes through you, pussy clenching around nothing at Wrecker’s request. “I-I don’t wanna suffocate you.” You worry as you’re lifted over his face, knees on either side of his head. Warmth blossoms across your cheeks as he stares right at your cunt.
“Ya won’t. And even if you do, what a way to go.” Wrecker growls, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he gazes up at your pussy. Gently, he encourages you down, groaning in satisfaction as you rest lightly against his face – nose and mouth brushing against your slick folds. “That ain’t sittin’.” He grumbles as he notices you trying to hold up some of your weight. Using a little more of his strength, he pulls you down until you’re firmly against his face, his nose pressed to your clit as his tongue laves over your entrance.
“Oh, hells…” You cry out, holding onto the headboard with one hand while the other lands on Wrecker’s head. That first lick of his tongue had felt incredible.
Wrecker feasts, your pussy his new favourite meal. The taste of you fills his mouth, and he moans, dragging his nose across your clit, tongue sloppy as he laves at you before pointing it and pressing it into your hole. He takes a breath whenever he can, drawing the flat of his tongue up through your folds to flick across your clit, lips latching around the sensitive bud so he can suck on it, brushing his tongue over it at the same time.
White hot pleasure is all you can feel, hips rocking as you ride his face, chasing your high. Your hand strokes across his head, fingers gliding over scarred skin. “Kriff, Wreck. Yes. Just like that.” You encourage, pleasure building quickly.
The stretch catches you off guard, two of his thick fingers pressing into you, crooking, as his mouth focuses on your clit. Head thrown back, his name falls from your lips as you come, thighs shaking and pussy spasming around his fingers as the pleasure rolls through your body.
Working you through the high, Wrecker gently pries his mouth off your clit, fingers slowly scissoring as he stretches you out a little more now that you’re more relaxed. He knows he’s big, and the last thing he wants is to hurt you.
Your hips roll slowly, grinding lazily against his face once again as he continues working you open, another thick finger joining the two already buried inside you. Biting down on your lower lip to muffle your moan, the trembles from your orgasm subside.
Fingers slip from you, hands finding your hips. Lifted, you’re moved back down Wrecker’s body until he can kiss you, mouth and chin covered in your juices. You gasp at the taste, at the way his tongue presses into your mouth, and you lazily make out.
Slowly you draw apart; Wrecker’s fingers that weren’t buried in your pussy move to push your hair out of your face tenderly.
The throb between your thighs intensifies, and you lift your hips, shifting until you can grind down against Wrecker’s cock. The rumble in his chest does funny things to your inside, and you smile. “I wanna ride your cock, too.” You state sweetly, enjoying the delight that flares in Wrecker’s eyes.
Scooting back just a little so you rest on his thighs, you drag your gaze from his face to finally take in his cock. It’s much thicker than any you’ve seen before – in person and on the holonet – and longer than average.
He curves a little to the right, the tip flushed a deep red, a bead of pre-cum in the slit. Taking him in hand, his groan reverberates through the room, and you can’t help but dip down to lap at him, the tang on your tongue dragging a sound from you that Wrecker echoes.
Your fingers don’t touch around him, and for a moment, you worry you won’t be able to take him. Shuffling forward a tiny bit until you’re back in your previous position, you line him up with your entrance, pressing just the tip in, and slowly start to sink down, letting gravity do the work.
Wrecker’s pretty sure he’s shaking – from anticipation or barely-there control, he’s not sure. All he does know is that his hands are wrapped around your hips to help guide you but not force you down, and inch by agonising inch, his dick is slowly being enveloped in the heat of your pussy.
The stretch burns a little, even after an orgasm and three fingers working you open. Taking your time, you let out deep breaths as you sink down until you’re finally flush, feeling fuller than ever. 
“Stars above, Wreck.” You pant, holding his gaze as you adjust to the feeling. His jaw is clenched, soft brown eyes looking at you with such profound adoration, like he can’t quite believe this is happening. His hands on your hips slide upward, under the edge of his shirt, until he’s grasping at your waist.
Steadily, you give a small roll of your hips, rising ever so slightly before sinking back down. The action pulls a moan from you, Wrecker’s head tilting back against the bed, his groan mingling with your needy sounds. Finding a rhythm, you lean back a little, hands resting on his muscular thighs as warmth builds in your belly with every rise and fall. The burn of the stretch dissolves into pleasure.
Chin tilting down, Wrecker watches as you ride him, how your lips part with every little whimper and sigh, and your tits bounce beneath his shirt. The sight goes straight to his cock, hand sliding up from your waist until he can palm your breasts under the garment, fingers pressed against soft flesh. You’re a handful, even for him, and he grunts, thumb and forefinger tweaking your pebbled nipples.
The whine you let out is delicious, and his gaze roves down your body, settling on where the two of you are connected, watching how he slides in and out of your pussy. The sight, the sounds, and the feeling of you around him push him closer and closer to the edge. Fingers smoothing back down your body, they press against your clit, firm circles rubbed against the sensitive nub.
“Kriff. Kriff. Kriff.” You curse, eyes screwed shut as the warmth grows towards an inferno. Pitching forward, you change the angle, hands resting against his broad chest, providing better leverage as your pace quickens. Your thighs start to ache, but you’ll be damned if you let that stop you.
“That’s it, babe. Hells, your pussy feels so kriffin’ good.” Wrecker pants, his words helping push you over the edge. Your body goes taut above him, pleasure contorting your face as you clamp down around him, coming on his cock with a cry of his name. He keeps his fingers moving, working you through the high until the tremors in your body stop and your hazy eyes open to meet his.
You share a soft smile, and Wrecker surges up, lips meeting yours for a passionate kiss as he grasps back at your hips. Holding you in place, his hips snap quickly as he fucks up into you, chasing his high now you’ve been satisfied.
Tongues meeting, the kiss is frantic and messy, noises muffled by each other’s lips. You pull back just enough to gaze down at him. “Come in me. Please.” Your needy whine reverberates around the room.
You were perfect. So perfect. Your pleading words, the grip of your tight pussy around him… Wrecker’s thrusts falter, and with two more sharp snaps of his hips, he pushes himself deep inside you, growling out your name as he’s swept into pleasure, filling you.
The room falls silent except for your harsh breaths, gazes locked before you steal another kiss. Slower and softer, the lust dissolves into something sweeter. Strong arms wrap around you, and you’re rolled onto your side, pulled flush against Wrecker’s body as he pries his lips from yours. He smiles, and you can’t help but match it, a giggle bubbling up and out. The sound of Wrecker’s chuckle melds with yours, happiness simmering between you.
“You okay?” Wrecker asks, one hand smoothing across your cheek, cupping your face.
You lean into his touch with a small nod, eyes fluttering shut. Wrecker’s hand is warm against your face as he caresses you, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your cheek. The aftermath of shared intimacy leaves you feeling content and connected.
Overjoyed, Wrecker presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, hand sliding down your body to wrap back around you as he holds you close. Now he has you, he’s never going to let you go.
In the cocoon of his embrace, you slowly drift into a serene slumber, knowing you’ve found a sanctuary that feels like home in his arms.
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letsquestjess · 2 months
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The Bad Batch and Reuniting After Time Apart (TBB x GN!Reader)
Summary: It is inevitable you will have to spend time away from the Batch, but time apart makes your reunions all the sweeter.
Warnings: Mostly fluff. A little separation anxiety.
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Hunter
Although Hunter doesn't enjoy being away from you, he accepts that there will be times when it's necessary. When you get back, he greets you with the most endearing smile and a loving embrace. He seems collected on the surface, but deep down he is thrilled to be with you again. He squeezes you more than usual, his kisses linger a few seconds longer, and he can’t take his eyes off you, smiling like a fool when nobody is looking and basking in how his brothers and Omega greet you so warmly upon your return. 
On one occasion, you had to leave the group for a couple of months to help a friend. It was the longest you had been away since you had met them, and Hunter was secretly worried, but he trusted in your ability to handle whatever challenges you faced. He had seen your strength and determination countless times, so he just had to be patient. He busied himself with looking after his siblings and making sure they were cared for, silently hoping you would arrive back sooner than expected. Omega was the first to spot you when you returned, and she eagerly rushed over to say hello, followed by her brothers. For the first time, Hunter felt such an overwhelming sense of family and belonging that he had to fight back the tears. To conceal his wet lashes, he embraced you tightly and planted a tender kiss on your lips, welcoming you back, to your home and your family.  
Echo
Whenever you have to venture out alone without the team, Echo is determined to remain practical to stave off the rising concern about your safety. He creates a checklist and guides you through the potential dangers and escape plans. Emergency contacts follow the immediate potential perils, as well as call signals and safe spots in each sector of the galaxy. It gets to the point where you can recite them all before he does, finishing with a kiss on his cheek and a promise to stay safe. That is all he needs to settle his concerns, that one little promise. When you're expected to return, he waits for the others to greet you before finding a secluded spot for the two of you to talk in private. 
You received a call to attend to pressing matters concerning a loved one. Fortunately, you were able to maintain contact with Echo while away. Each night, as the stars drifted in their rotation, you both snuggled into your beds and talked for hours, sharing how your day had been and counting down the time until you could reunite. Upon the arrival of the much-awaited day, Echo ensured they reached the assigned port early and made extra arrangements to make sure they went unnoticed. You arrived to a whirlwind of smiles and hugs from his siblings, each of them eager to share their recent news and ask about your travels. Echo waited as the tales were exchanged, and once aboard ship, he found you both a private corner to embrace away the distance you had felt for the past few weeks. 
Wrecker
Wrecker absolutely despises being away from you, but damn he loves that first sight of you again after time apart. The swell of love that surges through him is only surpassed by the way it feels to have you back in his arms. Without fail, when you reunite, he runs towards you, lifts you off your feet, and spends the rest of the day with a huge grin on his face, unable to resist squeezing you tightly at every opportunity he gets. 
A complex mission required you both to split up for a few days, your separate skills needed with the other group. Deprived of any form of communication or assurance of your well-being, Wrecker fell silent, craving your presence and the serenity you always brought. Time seemed to crawl, but finally, you were reunited, and he held you as if you might vanish if he loosened his grip. Back on the ship and in his bunk, he engulfed you with his arms, his cheek touching the crown of your head as you recounted the progress of your mission, and eventually, you both drifted off to sleep, entangled in one another. 
Crosshair
Crosshair has a habit of hiding his emotions, but as you become closer, he starts to open up. When you have to go, he withdraws, fearing his brothers will mock him if he admits he misses you. Whenever you're gone, his mood plummets, not to the point of bothering his brothers, but enough for them to take notice. Rather than teasing him as he expects, they encourage him and cheer him up until you return. 
During a chaotic mission, with every risk and peril imaginable, you had been split up. You had only just been able to communicate that you were safe before the transmission cut completely. Despite your reassuring message, any calm within Crosshair melted. The mission was irrelevant; his sole focus was on ensuring your safety and he embarked on an almost self-sacrificial fight to find you. The moment he laid eyes on you he wrapped you in a tight embrace that made you fear something terrible had transpired in your absence. He pulled away slightly to place his forehead against yours, unconcerned about his siblings' judgments; the other half of his soul had returned safe and sound, and his family was back together again. 
Tech
When you're away, Tech does his best to maintain a sense of normalcy. He occupies himself with his projects until your presence returns and he no longer feels that something is missing inside him. He knows you'll only leave if it's absolutely necessary, and each time he wishes you well and ensures you're prepared, offering a comforting smile as you leave. 
You had left to visit some loved ones and would be away for some time. Tech felt fine at first, but after that month mark, he noticed himself growing irritable at the void inside his heart. Rather than letting it defeat him, he seized control and resolved to create something for you. He started making recordings just for you, capturing the tabletop games he played with his siblings during their hyperspace travels and the fascinating planets they explored. It reached the point where he made recordings while tinkering with his latest project on the ship, his voice filled with nostalgia and love, all but whispering those private thoughts into the aether in the hope you might hear them. The night of your return, he shared the recordings he made. When it reached the videos of him talking to himself about how he felt about you, you pulled him closer, smoothing the pads of your thumbs over his cheeks before you kissed him. 
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sinfulsalutations · 1 year
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𝕕𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒 𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕣 𝕤𝕞𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕤/𝕠 ⋆*・゚𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕓𝕒𝕕 𝕓𝕒𝕥𝕔𝕙 + 𝕔𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕣𝕖𝕩
➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛ ɴꜰꜱᴡ, ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ꜱᴘɪᴄʏ ɪꜱ ᴀʟʟ ɪᴍ ꜱᴀʏɪɴɢ.
⋆ ★ ɪ ꜰᴇᴇʟ Qᴜɪᴛᴇ ᴏʙʟɪɢᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴀꜱ ɪ ᴀᴍ 4’11 ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ꜰᴜɴɴʏ ɪ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴛᴏ ʟɪᴛᴇʀᴀʟʟʏ ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ɪɴ ꜱᴡ, ᴀɴᴅ ꜱɪɴᴄᴇ ᴍʏ ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ʙᴏʏꜱ ᴀᴛᴍ ᴀʀᴇ ꜰᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ ɢɪᴀɴᴛꜱ ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴀʀᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ ɪ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ɪ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀᴅ ʙᴀᴛᴄʜ+ʀᴇx ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ꜱʜᴏʀᴛ/ꜱᴍᴀʟʟ ꜱ/ᴏ! ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇʟʏ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ
➼ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ
⋆ ★ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3 ⋆*・゚ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀᴍ
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Hunter
Despite being the only one out of clone force 99 who’s the average clone trooper height, he still is immensely taller (and broader, to be frank, excluding that little slutty waist) compared to you.
It strokes his ego quite a bit
Maybe a bit more if you like to point it out.
It ties into any sort of praise you shower onto him, really. If you tell him all about how tall and big and strong he is, you’re practically begging for him to pounce on you.
Hunter’s just whipped for you like that.
Despite that, he finds your height to be really cute.
It’s not everything he likes about you, of course, but it just ties it all in; it's just an aspect he adores sometimes.
He tries not to do it anymore because he wants to be helpful, but occasionally he’ll sit back and watch you struggle to reach something high up. The grin that spreads across his face could lift the entire galaxy’s spirits.
If you realize, you put a hand on your hip and pout.
“Really?”
He hides his red face and shakes his head.
“I’m sorry, mesh’la. You just looked so cute.”
When you huff again he reaches for the object you were trying to reach and hands it to you like it was a delicacy on a silver platter.
Whenever you're in a position like that, where your chests almost touched and he looked down at you, you enjoyed going on your tip toes and pecking his chin affectionately.
“I’m adorable, aren’t I?”
Tech
At first, even as you start a relationship with him, it is simply an objective fact about you.
He’ll make slightly offhanded comments about it, but you know he doesn't mean any harm when he says them.
“I should probably handle this instead since it would be easier for me to complete. Considering our heights.”
“Please don’t climb over the shelves, dear. You might hurt yourself.”
Eventually, the comments stop, you don’t really know why.
You do realize though he will always offer help in a situation where you are vertically challenged and his comments aren’t meant to be demeaning.
The height difference between you two, however, shifts from a focus on your height to his.
Tech knew that you gained a sense of enjoyment from the contrast in appearance, but didn’t realize how much you liked it.
And you liked it a lot.
Something about Tech completely towering over you while ever so slightly asserting his intellectual superiority rubs you in all the right places.
You tell him about it, and he tries his best to nod it off. Emphasis on tries.
He subconsciously begins trying to catch you in positions where he’s physically overwhelming; dwarfing your body into his and enveloping you into him wholly.
He doesn't notice hes doing it, but you do; oh you do.
You won't point it out. Both of you get off on his little power trips.
Wrecker
Let’s be real, this man has a raging size kink.
Of course, even if you’re average height or above, you’re minuscule compared to Wrecker. But man, if you’re short, petite, etc.? Wrecker is GONE. Deceased. Done.
He simply will never be able to get over how cute you are.
And maybe you feed into it as well.
Call him ‘big guy’ or give him that doe-eyed look like you’re in awe of a giant overtop you and you won’t walk for the next week.
He gets just a tad bit feral.
Sometimes, he finds it more comedic.
Like when you topple over trying to reach something on a high-up shelf.
You’ve become quite embarrassed about always needing assistance from Wrecker, especially because of all the teasing you’ve gained from his brothers.
So despite him always being fully willing to help at any time, you get a little too flustered for your liking and try to do the tasks yourself.
And yet, this doesn’t solve your problem. You continue to fall straight on your ass every time.
His laughter fills the entire ship.
“I must’ve turned invisible” he toddles over and opens his arms out wide. “Your footstool is right here!”
You can’t help but facepalm.
Other times, he finds it arousing.
Like when you press up against his stomach and chest, your chin resting up so you stared at him with wide eyes.
His whole body could completely swallow you whole in those moments.
How could he not get a boner?
BONUS: You’re small enough to huddle up on his lap and fit your entire body onto him with your arms loosely wrapped around his neck. Yes, those are the best cuddles. Yes, you both fall asleep instantly.
Crosshair
I'm sorry, but if you didn't think Crosshair was gonna tease you, he’s not your man.
On a day he's being especially pesky, every other sentence that comes out of his mouth is commenting on your height.
Crosshair loves seeing you frustrated, he thinks you look cute like that. He's like a schoolboy in that way, but don't say that. He’ll get all pissy and refuse to talk to you for a few hours.
Yep. Definitely a whiny schoolboy.
Will use the top of your head as an armrest and won’t protest if one of his brothers captures a photo of you two in that position.
Even if you're sitting next to each other he’ll find an opportunity to prop an elbow on your shoulder or head. it never fails to make him chuckle darkly to himself.
But if you ask him to help you reach something high up, he’ll do it wordlessly. Save the teasing for after.
if you blush furiously and scold him, he’ll only smirk and if no one else is around, give you a peck on your forehead.
“Can’t stop myself, doll.”
Won't offer help with any vertical challenges despite him being much taller. He’d like to, but in his head, he still thinks that he’ll come out too soft.
He might do it wordlessly and swiftly, even if you don't ask. Perhaps that's his way of showing love.
Echo
He won’t comment on it. Not for a while at least.
This man has had his fair share of body insecurity, and he isn’t so sure if your height is one of yours. He won’t risk that, he cares far too much about you to hurt your feelings inadvertently, or accidentally trigger any association with bad thoughts about yourself with him.
You’re the one to first bring it up, in fact.
It came out when you had started to get a little tipsy at Cid’s, and were talking about the batch’s physiques.
“And Echo, I know there’s wrecker over there but…” you cradled his face and looked up at him with awe, more adoration than he’d ever felt in his life. “You’re just so big and tall… and strong” with your last word, a small, whimpered moan followed.
Oh, if you were only sober enough to notice how his codpiece rubbed against your stomach harder than usual.
Sure, you got some shit from the boys for it the day after when you sobered up, but you didn’t regret saying it.
Finally, you got out of your head and told Echo how much you loved your height difference.
He stumbles a bit at first with your confession, but once the two of you go to continue doing something else, you notice how his chest puffs out just a little bit more and his shoulders are more squared up.
He always used to help you when trying to reach something high up before, but after that day, every time he does it feels so… purposeful.
It kind of is (he’d never admit it though).
He just can’t get your comment out of his mind.
It’s almost feral how kindred his need gets when you look, feel so much smaller than him.
But he’d never say it.
Actions, however, always speak more than words when it comes to Echo.
Rex
Rex is such an act of service guy, c’mon
He’s the kind of guy to always clean up after himself always if he’s around at your place. Does all the gross, menial tasks in the kitchen. If you fall asleep watching something, he’ll turn it off and carry you to bed.
He’s just such a gentleman, you can’t convince me otherwise.
So of course, if you’re more, ahem, vertically challenged than most, he is there.
He’s not the type to hold off on helping you out, like Hunter or Crosshair, but he might make a couple quips after or just randomly through the day.
“You’re so cute like this.”
“Aw, cyare, ‘m sorry you need my help. Can’t imagine living like this every day.”
It's hard to get mad at his comments, though.
Not when he’s always there the second you need him.
Though, when the two of you are more… intimate, the size difference comes into play more.
He doesn’t really have a size kink like Wrecker does, but Rex would be lying if his dick hasn't throbbed seeing the way his hand completely covered yours while going to town.
But he’s just so sweet about it; you’ve seen the way he looks at you in moments like those, with pure awe and revel, it makes you feel so loved and protected.
He could never make you feel otherwise.wise.
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ireadwithmyears · 8 days
Text
How each member of the bad batch would be with a visually impaired significant other (short imagine’s/headcannons
Word count: 5.4K
Pairings: the bad batch ex female reader (individual)
Tags/warnings: some are suggestive, mostly domestic fluff, hurt/comfort, mild injuries
note: look, it’s the epitome of self indulgence. I wrote this solely because I’m blind, and have never seen these ideas discussed when it comes to our beloved boys. However, I recognize that the majority of people reading this will not have shared this experience, so this is why I am adding a disclaimer/reminder to tell you that blindness is a spectrum, and the majority of us have at least a degree of useable vision left, so that is why I continue to use visual language/descriptors like look or watching. That being said, I hope you enjoy these, I had so much fun writing them, and if you have an idea for a specific scenario so I can do more of these, or another particular clone who isn’t a member of the batch, please let me know, and I would be happy to write more
Hunter🩷 
Hunter is the best at planning dates when it comes to keeping your accessibility and comfort in mind. 
If he wants to take you out somewhere, he’ll always go and scope it out beforehand, analyzing things that might not make it an enjoyable experience for you. I.e. if the lighting is too low and will obscure any of your remaining vision. If the music is too loud and will make it hard for you to effectively communicate with him. He knows that both of these things, especially when they’re working in tandem, can make you feel on edge and anxious, and that’s the last thing he wants you to feel when he’s taking you out on a date.
He will always ask the establishment about things like accessible or braille menus, or, if you happen to have a guide dog, seating that will have the space to accommodate and be comfortable for all of you.
If the menu isn’t accessible for you, he will always give you a heads up beforehand, using his datapad to pull up the menu on the holonet so that he can help you familiarize yourself with it, and you can decide what you want before you get there, taking a lot of the stress and pressure off of you because you don’t have to rush.
He wants you to feel cherished, loved, and safe when you’re out and about with him. So if you are going somewhere that’s particularly busy or crowded, he will also adapt himself. 
He’ll keep you close, whether it’s with your arm tucked securely in the crook of his elbow to guide you around, or his hand gently placed on the small of your back, letting it rest there so that you know he’s right there with you.
He never plans on getting separated from you, but if, by some unforeseen circumstance, it happens by accident, he has a plan for that too. 
If you’ve got remaining vision that is useable, he will intentionally wear bright, contrasting colours to make him easier to spot, even when he’s a distance away. 
If you don’t have any remaining vision, he’ll wear something like keys that jingle, or an article of jewellery that makes a distinct sound as he walks so that you can tell when he’s approaching. 
Regardless, every time you go on a night out, he will take the time to describe his appearance to you in detail, his general physical description, what he’s wearing, so that if, for some reason, you do get separated, you know how best to describe him to someone, so that they can locate him for you and help you make your way back to him
His enhanced senses have become innately attuned to your normal patterns and rhythms, and if he notices any rapid fluctuation or change be it with your breathing or heart rate, indicating that the environment you’re in is causing you stress, he’s whisking you away, taking you back home, despite any of your protests. He knows you’re just fighting him because you feel guilty about potentially messing up the night, which you absolutely are not.
He will not let you feel that way for long, because when you’re home, he is determined to make you feel like the beautiful, treasured, and wanted human being that you are.
He orders your favourite takeout food. He’ll lie you down on your bed, surrounding you with soft blankets and pillows, gently and tenderly beginning to caress and massage the tension from your tensed up shoulders and back, partly because he feels like he might have inadvertently been the cause of it being there in the first place.
“I’m sorry,” you try to apologize. “I know you really wanted to...”
“Shh,” he quiets your apology, a hand coming up to softly brush a finger against your lips, resting his forehead against yours gently. “Meshla,” he breathes, unable to help the small smirk of amusement that pulls at the corners of his mouth as he observes, taking note of your breath audibly catching in the back of your throat as his finger, slow and slightly teasing, begins to lightly trace the edge of your bottom lip.
He presses his lips to yours in a sweet, chaste kiss as he affirms, “this is all I want,” he breathes in a whisper close to your ear that immediately has your whole body erupting in goosebumps.
“You,” he continues, his voice a low, husky rumble against your neck as his lips press, warm and deliberate, directly where your pulse flutters beneath them, pulling a soft, yet audible gasp out of you, that makes his lips curve up into a smile that you can feel against the skin of your neck.  “Are all I want.” 
He spends the rest of the night taking his time to prove that to you, in every way that he knows how.
*
Tech🩷
He takes note of every single bruise you get on your legs from bumping into shit all the time. 
You’re blind, it’s just an occupational hazard. You might not even notice that you have one, but he certainly does, and he’ll take care to notify you of every time you accumulate a new mark in your collection.
“There is a bruise directly above your left knee,” he observes, gentle fingers tracing over the mark with a soft frown marring his features. 
He naturally has picked up on using the language that is most helpful to describe the location of something visual to you. You didn’t even have to ask the first time you were on hands and knees on the floor, feeling around for one of your shoes. He didn’t point, and say “it’s over there,” which is just instinctive habit for most people. Instead, he had a used more specific directives like “behind you, on a slight diagonal to your right.”
“How did this happen,” he asks softly now, placing your hand directly on top of the blossoming mark on your leg.
You give him a half shrug and a rueful smile. “I don’t know,” you admit, honestly puzzled. “It happens all the time.”
From then on, he observes you closely, quickly coming to the realization that there are things that are just harder for you to look out for, and, just as quickly, doing his best to rectify each one. He’s easily able to identify a pattern of cause and effect that lead to your many bruises, bumps, and small every day accidents, and rather than being over bearing and cautious with you, he just figures out a way to remove the root of each problem entirely.
Each step on the Marauder’s gangway is suddenly marked with a long strip of brightly coloured tape at each edge, so that you can more confidently move down the steps without having to fumble to find the edge with your foot.
Low sitting caf tables in the middle of the living room, with sharp, jagged corners jutting out are suddenly pushed up against the wall, so that you don’t have to be careful while stepping around them, trying not to hit your leg off of one of them.
He makes sure that any overhead cupboards in the kitchen that are hard for you to notice until your head is colliding with their open doors, are kept securely shut, recalling a particular incident when, whilst putting away dishes, your head had caught on one of the cupboard doors, large bump blossoming on your forehead, just barely missing your eye. He had frowned, gently holding an ice pack to the swelling bump, deciding that from now then on, he would put any of the dishes away that needed to go on the top shelves. He wouldn’t budge on this, even when you tried to argue.
“Cyar,” he had said, voice stern, even as he gently took you by both of your shoulders. “I understand your need to be able to do things independently, and I respect it greatly. But, as much as you can make a light about getting bruises on your legs from these little incidents. Your head is much too important to apply that same lightness to, and I will not compromise on that so please, let me do this for you.” he had leaned down, barely brushing his lips over the bump on your head in a caring, affectionate gesture, and that had made your resolve completely crumble.
He’s also hyper aware of your systems and ways of organizing things, and it has become a habit for him to make sure that it is maintained. 
Shampoo and conditioner bottles that look almost identical with exception to the labels that isn’t much help to you are always set in a specific order for you to find in the shower. You always leave things like your wallet and your cane in the same place, and if anyone messes with these orders, it can really throw you off.
If anyone does touch or move any of your things, regardless of how insignificant, without telling you first, Tech will find out, and, especially if it’s one of his brothers, will thoroughly scold them for it, ensuring that they understand why somethings so small could be really frustrating and disorienting for you, and makes sure that they never do it again.
If you read braille, this man learns it for fun one day on a whim, and he doesn’t even tell you about it.
He’ll put away your groceries for you one day, and then you’ll be searching for something like a dinner ingredient, and find that he’s attached a braille label to the box, with completely correct use of the six dots that form the language.
When you confront him with it, he only shrugs, adjusting his goggles with a slightly confused expression.
“You sound surprised,” he observes with one raised eyebrow. “In a practical sense, this was a logical solution,” he continues, clearly unfazed by your display of shock.
“That’s not fair,” you pout, leaning against the counter and folding your arms. “If you’re going to learn braille, then you at least need to teach me some Mandoa,” you challenge.
“I was not aware that you were interested in the subject. But that is an agreeable request. What would you like to know?” He asks, looking at you questioningly.
“Like,” you bite your lip, considering, tilting your head in curiosity. “What’s that word that you always call me?” You ask. “It starts with an S? I think? Or maybe a C...c cyar?” You say, suddenly uncertain and cringing at your own pronunciation.
He straightens, suddenly grateful that you’re unable to see the blush that’s crept into his cheeks as he answers evenly. 
“Ah, yes, the word that you were saying is correct. Cyar... it means, love... or beloved,” he answers, voice going soft as he catches your hand in his, almost absently pressing his lips to the back of your knuckles briefly as you stare at him, surprised.
“You ... you love me?” You ask, hopeful and voice clearly bewildered. The smile that pulls at the corners of your lips lights up the whole room. 
Both eyebrows arch as he looks down at you, because now he’s the one who’s confused. When he responds, his voice is far less confident and sure than it usually is. It holds almost a shy, completely uncharacteristic timidness, which conveys the genuine honesty in his words when he speaks.
“Well ...cyar. of course I do. I thought it was obvious.”
*
Echo🩷 
Echo, unlike most people, understands all the aches and pains, mental and physical, that come with being disabled.
He’s sat with you on the bathroom floor, your head resting against the cool linoleum of one of the tiles on the wall after a concert. You had come home to find your head throbbing from the after affects of being surrounded by a combination of extremely loud music, a screaming crowd, and strobe lights that made you wish that you didn’t have any remaining vision at all. 
Your eyes were shut tightly, and  your heart fluttered with surprise and gratitude when, with his one functioning hand, Echo, movements slow and meticulous, carefully began to undo your hair from the tight updo it had been forced into all night. There he sat, fingers so, so gentle as they ran through your hair, undoing the tangles and soothing away some of the tight ache that had gathered at the back of your head. 
He’s careful to stay quiet, not wanting to interrupt the little bit of peace that you had found. The only thing that fell from his lips were gentle breaths and soft murmurs of “oh, sweetness, s’okay,” lips pressing the lightest kisses to your flushed cheek, the side of your aching forehead, until the painkillers had finally, finally kicked in.
If you’re a cane user, he always has his eyes peeled for the little bumps and cracks along the sidewalk.
He’s seen what happens when the tip gets caught in one of them, when the handle inevitably jabs against your stomach or ribs and the immediate discomfort on your face that follows.
He also sees the bruises that are left there afterwards, and as much as he loves gently pressing his lips to each of them, reassuring you that he’ll kiss them better, he’d rather them just not be there in the first place.
So, he always watches out for them, giving you an ample warning on ones that your cane could get caught in so that you can move it out of the way. 
He takes you to a holofilm, and you both don’t realize that it’s not available with audio description until you’re in your seats and the headset doesn’t work. He immediately turns to you, giving you a reassuring smile and offering his hand, saying “We can leave, if you want. If you’re not going to get anything out of this, we can go, and we’ll find something else to do.”
You decide to stick it out, rationalizing that you’ll still be able to get something out of the film, if not the whole story, and besides, he can catch you up on parts you didn’t understand after it’s over. 
In the end, it’s still worth it for you.  
You finish half of a bag of popcorn before commercials are even over. You’re intrigued by the movie for almost half of it, and then finally, you spend the rest of it passed out with your head resting on Echo’s shoulder, only for him to wake you, slightly chagrined, when the credits are rolling.
When you’re out of the theater, you walk together hand in hand down the street. He apologizes profusely, saying that he should have done more research. You try to laugh it off to reassure him that it was fine, because you just had one of the best naps of your life in that theater. When it’s clear that that doesn’t help, you’re turning to him, sighing with a small frown.
“Echo,” you say with a small shake of your head. “I’m the one who should be sorry, not you, love.” At his look of bewilderment, you continue. “You do so much for me already, and I’m just so, so grateful for that. It’s not always something I feel like I can repay you for.” You look away, ashamed. 
Because it’s true. He has his own set of issues and lingering problems from the injuries he sustained at the citadel. You can encourage him to do things like his physiotherapy exercises that ensures that his cybernetics are working in tandem with his body. But you can’t actually help him with them, whether it be with making modifications or repairs. It sometimes makes you feel a bit useless, because he helps you so much and you feel like you can only help him so little, and you feel like you’re just adding to his already overflowing plate sometimes.
“I know there could be easier people for you to be with,” you confess, voice quiet.
Echo stops dead at the street corner, catching your wrist to stop you from moving forward, and turning to fully face you with his brow creased in a frown.  
“Oh, Cyar’ika,” he says, voice soft, reaching out a hand to tilt your head up so that you’re looking at him. “Now who put that idea in your head, ner kar’ta?” he whispers, gazing down at you with pursed lips.
Unexpected tears spring to your eyes at his gentle tone. The truth is that you can’t place this feeling on a singular person, though people have contributed to it. Family members have made comments in passing, strangers who look at the two of you and immediately begin to judge from there own preconceived notions and outside opinions. It’s society at large, who has made you feel like your blindness is a burden to the ones you love. 
You don’t know how to say that, though. So you remain silent as Echo leans down, dropping a lingering kiss to your forehead as he whispers, “I don’t need you to make my life easier, cyar. You make my life meaningful, and that, to me, is more important. 
He rests his forehead against yours, brushing a soft kiss to your lips. “Your needs don’t make you a burden, cyar’ika. I want you to remember that. I want to make sure that they are always being met. It’s the least I can do, you understand?”
All you can do is nod, your heart in your throat. 
The next time you go see a holofilm with him, and the audio description isn’t available, Echo is prepared this time.
He still offers to leave, but when you refuse, he has a plan. In his own time, and on the occasions when you both have been watching something at home, he always makes sure the described video settings are on, for your benefit, and when he’s alone, for his.
He’s observed closely, listening and carefully paying attention to how the narrator’s go about describing things. So, when the movie starts, he leans over to you, keeping his voice low and quiet, beginning to describe to you what’s happening onscreen, careful to never interrupt any dialogue.
You stare at him, more than a little surprised. “Echo, are you going to do this for the whole film?” You ask, caught off guard and delighted all at once.
He gives you a quick nod. “Yes,” he answers matter-of-factly. “Now, be quiet and let me do it.”
True to his word, he does, staying close to you and keeping his voice quiet, so as not to disturb anyone around you. If someone still tries to shush him or gives him a dirty look for talking in the theater, he glares at them, in only the way that Echo can, until they stop.
This time, you stay awake during the whole film, watching intently, and listening to echos every word as he is meticulous in describing the visual things that you’re missing. In spite of all of the things that are different in comparison to your last date, one thing still remains the same.
You still finish the movie with your head resting on his broad shoulder, and he still looks at you like you’re the centre of his world.
*
Wrecker🩷 
The first time you make a blind joke about yourself in front of him, he’s terrified. 
Instinctively, he starts laughing, but then, registering your words, he immediately cuts himself off, not wanting to offend you, and is concerned that you’re being mean to yourself, which he will not allow. 
When you only snort at his reaction, playfully nudging him and explaining how it’s fine, because you have to make fun of the things that you are unable to change, and how it’s actually a mark of self love if you have the ability to laugh at yourself, slowly, he begins to understand. 
Soon enough, he not only readily laughs at your self deprecating humour and blind jokes, but at one point, he ends up slipping out one of his own before he can stop himself.
Again, he’s immediately apologetic and regretting his words, but when you throw back your head and laugh heartily, he feels a little less insecure and soon enough, you both have the ability to crack blind jokes with each other without missing a beat, to everyone else’s chagrin and fond amusement. 
He decides that having the ability to make you laugh, getting to watch your eyes sparkle with amusement and hearing the sounds of your joy is music to his ears, and is one of his favourite things. 
Wrecker is your number one protector. Not in a toxic, over protective way.
Even though he’s only got one functioning  eye, chances are he’s still got more vision than you, so he’s taking it upon himself to be the working set in this relationship, meaning he’s always watching out for you.
If you’ve got a guide dog, the first time he encounters it, he might have gone to pet it, but, before he did, he sees the do not interact sign, and stops short, quickly pulling back and apologizing. 
He asks questions, just to make sure he understands why it’s important, and after you explain it, he fully respects the boundaries and never forgets them, to which you are immensely thankful.
He doesn’t understand why you’re so grateful for him just doing the decent thing, until you tell him that a lot of people understand that you’re not supposed to pet the dog, but will either do it anyways, thinking that if you can’t see them doing it and they do it silently, you won’t notice, or they’ll talk in a distracting way to the animal, which is sometimes worse, and equally as distracting for the dog to work through.
This angers him, that they would take advantage of your blindness in such a disrespectful manner, and because you’ve explicitly told him that distracting your dog could potentially put you in danger, under the right circumstances.
From then on, he’s always watching.
If someone is petting your dog while it’s working, or trying to distract it, he’s right there, towering over them and glaring with his arms crossed, not so subtly pointing at the do not pet sign until they back away, stuttering and flustered.
If a child runs up to pet it, he’ll much more gently intercept them, crouching down on the ground to quietly explain to them the rules. In your experience, children are often much more respectful than adults, and watching him interact so kindly with them melts your heart every time.
Wrecker is tall. Standing at 6 feet six, it makes him not the most ideal guiding companion.
If he’s guiding you himself, sometimes, unintentionally, his elbow might knock against your head, for which he is immediately aware of, and instantly apologetic. 
He will always stop, large hands gently cradling the sides of your face as he looks you over, worried that even the slightest bump from him could leave a bruise. Regardless of what he finds, though, he’ll always lean down, dropping a kiss to your forehead with a soft, “m sorry, meshla.”
His solution to this problem, however, is a tad bit unconventional. 
When confronted with a situation where it’s just more efficient for him to guide you, for example, a street blocked off by construction, taped off areas and pylons everywhere, instead of offering you something like his hand or his wrist to hold, he simply reaches down, scoops you up into his arms and carries you over his shoulder until you’ve both cleared the obstacles together, you letting out a surprised squeak and giggling all the while.
Wrecker finds you beautiful, every day, all the time, and he is constant with his reminders of that.
As a blind person, it can be more difficult to coordinate a whole outfit, look, hair, and make up. He is so appreciative, and loves if you do that. But, if you’re one of those blind people who never learned how to do make up, who isn’t as confident in their sense of personal style, and you feel a little bit self-conscious about how much, or how little, in your opinion, effort you put into your look when you’re going out on a date with him, he will quickly assuage your fears the minute he catches wind of them.
He’s very good at detecting those days where you’re not feeling good about your appearance, just intuitively sensing when you’re having a bit of an off day, and when you could use a reminder of how beautiful and precious you are to him. He knows he can’t magically change your mind.
But he can  tell you about all the things he finds attractive about you, every day, if you need that reminder.
He’ll tell you of each one, each part of you that he finds beautiful beyond belief, while taking the time to softly caress and kiss each one, with whispered affirmations of “Such a pretty little thing,” and “You’re perfect, cyar, absolutely perfect.”
And if that’s not enough, he’ll keep going, keep moving downwards until he can look up at your beautiful face, watching from in between your parted thighs as your lips form equally beautiful noises for him.
*
Crosshair🩷 
It isn’t that Crosshair doesn’t want to help you. It’s just that, honestly, he’s a little bit hesitant to, in the beginning, fearing that he might overstep, because he places such a high value on choice, and respects your independence and autonomy to much to question you and your abilities.
He trusts that, if you need his help, you’ll come to him and ask. He also trusts that you’ve been living with blindness for a long time, maybe even since birth, and you’re aware enough to know your boundaries and limits, trusting that you’ll advocate when you need him to help with one of those limits.
Just because he doesn’t help you as much in the physical sense, does not mean he isn’t your number one advocate, because he absolutely is. 
For example, if you’re a guide dog user, and you both are going out together using a ride sharing app. If the driver refuses to let you in they’re speeder because of your service dog, he will wait patiently for you to explain, analyzing every micro expression of the driver and knowing when they’re still not listening to you, and he will step in without hesitation.
Wearing his most menacing glare, and in a voice that is deadly calm, he will absolutely read them the riot act. He knows every law regarding your guide dog, and knows just how properly to phrase them in a way that will make the driver scared, usually when he mentions the 5000 credits fine they could be sued for not denying you access 
He’s also keeping his eyes out to make sure that no one distracts your dog, and isn’t afraid to directly confront anyone who tries, saying something snarky like, “You know, maybe you’re the one who needs a guide dog, if you can’t read the don’t pet me sign that’s right in front of your face,” paired with a signature eye roll.
They always back away stuttering, and it always makes you laugh, even as you gently rebuke him, saying “Cross, that was a bit rude.”
He scowls, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you against him as he responds.
“And you, sweet girl, are too nice,” he purrs lowly against your ear. But, with the way that he begins to nuzzle at your neck, you don’t really think it bothers him that much.
If you’re one of those blind people who feels like asking for help is just burdening other people with your problems, and would rather risk facing the consequences by trying to do something yourself, rather than ask for help, he will find out, and he will not be pleased in the slightest. 
Your stubbornness is something that he loves about you. But if it has a tendency to go too far, especially if you’re putting yourself in harms way, that adoration will quickly turn to frustration.
For example, one time, you both were staying at a place that had a glass topped stove. 
These things are so inaccessible for blind people, it’s not even funny. But rather than admit defeat and let him cook dinner, you decided that you could figure it out, and gave it your best shot. 
Your best shot ended with you trying to line up the pot with the burner, and very quickly, receiving a searing burn on your hand from touching the heat. 
You had not anticipated it getting that hot that fast , and as you quickly pull your hand away, tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you let out a pained hiss.
““what are you doing?”
He had materialized behind you from seemingly out of nowhere, voice a silky, yet tensed coil as he reaches around you carefully, quickly flicking off the burner before long, dextrous fingers wrap  around your wrist, still gentle, even as he insistently pulls your hand away from where you’ve been clutching it to your chest, eyes keenly examining the burn with a soft frown on his face.
Wordlessly, he guides you over to the kitchen sink, hand on the small of your back, turning the water on cold and carefully placing your injured hand beneath the stream. 
Only then does he come to stand in front of you, placing both of his hands on your shoulders, his expression hard as he looks down at you. 
“What were you thinking, cyar?” He grits out, voice almost a growl as he tries to understand. “Why didn’t you wait for me? I could have helped and prevented this,” he gestures to your hand. “From happening.”
You blame the trembling in your voice on the lingering throbbing ache in your hand.
“I’m s sorry. I I thought that I could figure it out. You were busy, and I didn’t want to bother you B because I’m scared that I burden you with all the help I need sometimes and.”
“Stop,” he cuts you off in one quick, decisive syllable, and you instantly fall silent.
He tilts your chin up with one hand, guiding your eyes to look at him. His lips form a thin line when he sees the glimmer of unshed tears there. When he next speaks, his voice is still firm, but there is an underlying gentleness and softening in his tone. It has lost its hard edge, and it’s protective bite.
“You are not a burden, to anyone, but especially to me.”
“But,” you try to interject, but he easily silences you, taking your face in both of his hands and cradling it gently.
“Shh, cyar, listen to me,” he says, his voice a quiet command.
“If you are a burden, then you are my burden. In the same way that I am yours.” He takes your uninjured hand in his, relaxing his fingers against yours,  allowing you to feel it’s tremors.
Oh.
It’s been so long since his hand has shaken like this. He’s worked so hard to try and work through this particular trauma, and though it hasn’t completely gone away, it only begins to tremble during moments of high stress. You flush with shame, realizing that this moment of high stress is completely on you.
“I know what you’re doing, and stop it,” he says, voice stern, squeezing your hand in a silent warning. “Look at me, cyar’ika,” he continues, voice softening.
When you do, he continues. “If we are each other’s burdens, then we take care of each other, together. Do you understand me?”
You nod, actually stunned into complete silence at his proclamation.
“Good,” he says, voice softening further. He leans forward, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips, fingers gently caressing the side of your neck as he pulls back.
He gives you a playful nudge as he smirks.
“Don’t ever try something like that again, cyar,” he quips with a scowl. “Your eyes already don’t work, and if you lose one of your hands, you’re completely fucked.”
All the levity of the moment vanishes, and it ends with your face pulling into a smile, a soft laugh falling from your parted lips as he watches you, eyes filled with adoration.
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mandos-mind-trick · 11 months
Text
Clone Soulmate AU Series
A Masterlist of all my fics for my Soulmate AU series. All of them contain smut so minors vanish.
MAIN MASTERLIST
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Blessed Silence - Tech x reader
Monochrome - Imperial!Crosshair x medic reader
Jaig Eyes - Rex x medic reader
Carry Me Home - Cody x reader
Danger - Wrecker x reader
00:00 (Zero O'Clock) - Hunter x reader
Cabur - Wolffe x reader
Grey - Jesse x reader
Healing Touch - Kix x reader
Lost Time - Gregor x reader
The Soldier and The Spy - Fives x reader
See You In My Sleep - Howzer x reader
Dream of You - Echo x reader
Blurbs:
The Thing About Soulmates
On Soulmate Rejection
A Little More On Rejection
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lulalovez · 5 months
Text
Hi I need some help.
I found this art on pinterest. Does anyone know who the artist is??? Because I immediately need to follow them. I need to thank them for creating this masterpiece.
Awooga 🥵
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sailorkamino · 1 year
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your pet name {bad batch}
relationships: gn reader x bad batch
a/n: i tried to make this gender neutral. which name is ur favorite? his pet name can be read here
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crosshair
• "don't start something you can't finish, doll."
• the first time cross calls you doll it's in a mocking tone. instead of snapping back you flash a pretty smile and call him something sweet in return. his heart stutters, ears turning warm. once the shock wares off he's pissed. you think you can fluster him and get away with it? not a chance in siths hell. (crosshair is the type to think you flirting = mind games and i stand by that.)
echo
• "stars, you're an angel"
• the only medics allowed near echo are tech and kix, even with them he's reluctant to ask for help but you can tell when he's in pain. one trek in hyperspace the cold is really making him ache. you bust out some prosthetic cream you purchased and offer a massage. he's excited because your hands on his body is a dream come true but he's also wracked with nerves and insecurities. yet the second you rub his sore shoulders he loses all filters.
hunter
• "hey sweetheart, can i borrow your body spray? i want my blacks to smell like you."
• you quickly realize that strong scents, even good ones, give hunter headaches so you go on the hunt (hehe) for something subtle but sweet. one day you try a woodsy, fruity body spray and hunter is attached to you like a leech, flirting that it's 'sweet like you.' he's literally a golden retriever boyfriend... meaning he wants your scent on all his belongings cuz it reminds him of you. also he can literally hear your heart beat so,
tech
• "can you hand me the spanner? thank you, starlight"
• tech is unflinchingly honest. it usually gets him in trouble but once in a while it works in his favor. one day you're sitting in the cockpit together, you're telling him about your latest interest, when he blurts out that you look beautiful in the starlight. his first reaction is to apologize for interrupting you because he genuinely does care what you have to say but then you're kissing him and nothing else matters.
wrecker
• "you're too cute to be scary, little tooka."
• the first time wrecker compares you to a tooka you're sleepily nuzzling into his chest. the next time you're pouncing on him playfully. he doesn't even stumble, wrangling you in his arms with boisterous laughter. doesn't matter how tall, big, or otherwise intimidating you are, to wrecker you're his baby. (cue the strong must protect the sweet gif)
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nahoney22 · 4 months
Note
Hello darling!
I’d love if you wrote a NSFW fic with Tech or Wrecker.
Maybe you’d be coming home from a bad day at work and a bad fight with your parents and he comforts you and makes you forget your troubles with some soft sex. Lots of praise and pleasure. Maybe some overstimulation??
Only if you have the time of course!! If you’ve already written something like this, I’ll scour the master list
Many thanks lovely!!
Gentleness***
Wrecker X F!Reader
word count: 1.6k
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After visiting your parents, you brain is fried with their words and demands of wanting you to have a different path in life. So when you return to your boyfriend, Wrecker, you crave some much needed TLC.
warnings: NSFW, 18+ only. Explicit sexual content and language. Soft smut, cunnilingis, praises, overstimulation, established relationship, aftercare and female reader. A little bit angsty, mentions of arguing with parents.
authors note: I chose to do Wrecker because I’ve not wrote for him in a hot minute and I feel like this is Wrecker coded. Sorry for the wait @originalcollectionartistry ✨🤍
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With a raspy throat and misty eyes, you approach the Marauder following what was meant to be a pleasant reunion with your parents, only to unravel into a heated debate about your life choices. Are you old enough? Mature enough? In their eyes, the exhilaration of navigating the galaxy with a band of rogue Clones was an unacceptable life for their daughter. They envisioned a different path—one confined to a desolate planet, toiling behind a counter in a dreary little shop.
You yearned for their support, but some convictions remain unaltered. It had been this way for many years and each time you see them, you think they would change their minds.
Outside the Marauder, you collect yourself, wiping away tears and clearing your throat before boarding.
However, the usual clamor had subsided this evening, leaving you in solitude momentarily. Yet, a yearning for your boyfriend lingers.
Thinking you've found respite, you settle into the cockpit, allowing tears to cascade. With your head in your hands and fingers entwined in your hair in frustration, your sobs echo in the silence. Unbeknownst to you, the familiar and resounding footsteps approach, shattering the quiet.
"I thought I heard ya—hey, what's wrong, babe?" Wrecker swiftly joins you, crouching beside you and tenderly placing a hand on your thigh.
Peering at him through your hands, you manage a smile amid the tears and emit a soft sniffle. "I'm fine, just parents."
A frown creases Wrecker's brow. "I thought you were looking forward to seeing them?" he asks.
"Yeah, until they started bombarding me about what they think I should be doing with my life," you groan, swiping away your tears once more and straightening up. "Just annoyed."
Wrecker offers a sympathetic smile, planting a gentle kiss on your cheek. "Did they, um, mention anythin’ about me?" His hand grazes the back of your neck, prompting a playful eye-roll from you.
Fortunately, your parents did inquire about Wrecker. Your relationship with him wasn't exactly a secret after their initial meeting, which left a favorable impression. That much you were thankful for.
"They just asked about how you were and all," you mention, crossing your arms and leaning back against the chair's headrest. "But... they still disapprove of me traveling with you all. They want me to stay home and work for them."
Wrecker tilts his head, his brow knitting together. "Is that what ya want?"
"Absolutely not, Wreck," you declare. "I just wish they could understand that this is the path I've chosen."
Wrecker stands tall and concerned above you. “Well I’m glad you're still here,” he says, a gentle smile tugging at your lips in response. Yet, he's not entirely convinced. “Is there anything I can do?”
Initially stumped, you gaze up at him, taking in his towering presence, his striking features, and suddenly, a longing for something, anything, wells up within you. "Honestly?"
"Yeah, anything!" His smile widens, noticing a glimmer of light returning to your eyes.
As you stand before Wrecker, your voice carries a hint of vulnerability. "I want you to love me."
Confusion knits Wrecker's brow. "But you know I already do? Don't you?"
You let out a soft, tender laugh at his innocent bewilderment. Your hands trail up his sturdy arms, tracing the contours of his broad chest before delicately cradling his cheeks. Your fingertips brush over the rough, scarred tissue, as you gaze deeply into his eyes. "Yes, but I want you to love me," you express, your voice filled with longing and an unspoken yearning for more.
He’s silent now, but he understands what you mean as his eyes spark with interest.
With such a gentleness, he took your hands away from his face, starting to trail soft kisses up your arms until he seals his lips over yours, drawing you in.
You let him take the lead, keening into his touch as his hands begin to pull the clothes away from your body, his large hands gently kneading at your soft, nude flesh as his tongue dances with yours.
It’s not long until he has you wrapped around his waist, carrying you through the ship until he lays you down on his bunk, warm breath waltzing against your skin.
Soft moans begin to part your lips as Wrecker kneels at the foot of the bunk, your legs spread and balancing over his shoulders as he slips a finger between your folds. Your increasing arousal helps Wrecker to move his digit up and down before he gathers your slick on his fingers, using it as lubricant to rub at your swelling clit.
You choke on a groan, knees subconsciously closing around his head but Wrecker doesn’t mind, infact, it spurs him on as you start to gently roll your hips to his touch. He encourages you, keeping a steady pace as he places kisses to the inside of your thighs as he works at your clit with intent, yet gentle.
Your legs start to tremble, chewing on your lower lip as Wrecker lets out a satisfied growl of pleasure as you grind down on his hand, slipping a finger inside you and curling it as he gently thrusts. “That’s it pretty girl, take what ya need.”
“S-So good Wrecker… you’re so good to me.” You whine, toes curling as he maintains a steady momentum.
“Of course I am, I always will be,” he rasps, eyes fixated on your glistening pussy, “let it go, cum for me. I’ve got ya.”
Your eyes are seeing stars, stars more beautiful than those through space as your body becomes rigid and your breathing becomes heavy. Then, you cry out his name, your orgasm shooting through you as you ride out the pleasure against his hand. “That’s it, you did so well.” He cooes. “That was a lot.”
A happy sigh parts your lips but Wrecker didn’t stop there. “Do you think you can cum again sweetie? I think you can.” He cooed as he placed soft kisses to your thighs before his warm breath fans over your tingling pussy.
Naturally your hips bucked as his tongue glides over your folds, licking up the residue of before and melts as he whines softly at the taste of you. You squirm, getting a bit too overstimulated but a part of you wanted more, you wanted to fight against it and let Wrecker continue to have a taste of you.
“Don’t worry,” he purrs, sensing the struggle between wanting another orgasm and for him to stop teasing at your pulsating cunt, “I will take extra good care of you if you are a good girl and cum on my tongue.”
Your blood runs hot, his praises alone almost making you hit your high. Softly, you hold onto the back of his head, grinding your hips on his tongue as he delves his tongue against your stimulated clit, the burn now desirable.
His large arms wrap under your thighs, bringing you even closer to his face than before, chuckling into your pussy as you let out a wanton cry of pleasure. Your hands move to the sheets on the bunk, gripping as if for dear life as he laps eagerly at you, sucking and flicking his tongue expertly against your sweet sex. “Oh f-fuck! Wreck..!”
“Say my name again sweetie, let me know how much I’m pleasing ya.”
You were blessed to be laying down because if you were standing there was no way you would’ve been able to hold yourself up. “Wrecker, you’re so good at this.”
Again, he chuckles, sending vibrations through you that have your toes curling as your cunt becomes numb. As your moans become louder, you knew you were close again. Wrecker groans as he slips his tongue into your pussy, feeling you clench around his tongue that has you soaring into the galaxy.
“Your moans are so perfect, baby. You’ve done so, so good for me.” He pulls away, catching his breath and you almost sob at the sight of your juices around his grinning mouth before he moves his hand back to your core and lets his fingers strum rapidly against your clit.
It’s too much and somewhat not enough either. His name runs past your lips like a mantra all the while he ushers words of praise. “That’s it, good girl. Cum again.”
One part of your brain makes you squirm away from his touch, finding it unbearable but the other half craves for the intensity of another orgasm. “It’s too sensitive Wrecker,” you moan, knuckles turning white as you grip onto the sheets.
“I know baby but I know you can do it. Let it go, you’ll feel so much better.” For someone so loud his words were so quiet and soft yet laced with pure filth. You’re hot, the stimulation relentless and it’s not until his mouth is back on your clit when your climax finally hits.
“O-o-oh stars!” you whimper as your orgasm rakes through you and onto his mouth and chin, your whole body tingling now. He continues to lick your pussy, collecting every ounce of your high before he stands, wipes his mouth and chin and pulls you into his arms as he sits on the edge of the bunk with you.
“That’s how it’s done, sweetie. Well done.” He cooed, stroking a hand through your sweat covered hair, “was that enough?”
You give him a dazed, dopey grin and nod. “It was perfect.” You sigh happily, resting your forehead into his chest as he cradles your nude body. “Thank you for this.”
“Like I said, I’d do anything.”
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Masterlist
Ko-fi if you wanna buy me a coffee ☕️
More Wrecker Works
Taglist if you want to be added or removed (please note I’ll respectfully remove you if you’re not interacting with my work 🤍)
Tags: @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @ezras-left-thumb @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @imalovernotahater @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @raevulsix @mssbridgerton @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @photogirl894 @l-lend 🎄
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sev-on-kamino · 11 months
Note
Hello friend! I couldn't find any rules for requests on your blog, so hopefully this one's okay, and if not feel free to ignore it!
Would you be okay with doing a little something based on the idea that all five of the bad batch boys realize that they're all in love with their medic reader? Like maybe they all just KNOW that their other brothers feel the same way about the reader and what they do about it? Do they all talk it over in private? do they just silently start trying to one up each other as a secret competition for her heart? Do they maybe go to the reader themselves instead? Or maybe they decide sharing is caring?? I'd love to hear your take on this concept, headcanons or a fic or whatever you're inspired to do with this idea it's all fine by me!
Please and thank you and also I hope you have a good weekend 💗
I have had the BEST time with this ask, and I hope you love it. This is deffo one I could write about from different angles all day long. I love the boys, but they provide more inspiration than I know what to do with, so this is only part 1 😬 if you had something else in mind, don’t hesitate to let me know. you know I’m always down to write about the boys 🥰
The Bad Batch x afab!Reader
warnings: mention of injury, nothing graphic, poly no clonc*st, Crosshair pining 👀
Part 2
word count: 3721 (*self control left the chat*)
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The Havoc Marauder was never quiet, and now was no exception. Wrecker’s snores, Tech’s tinkering, Echo’s quiet muttering in his sleep, the barely audible sounds of Hunter fiddling with his knife. But there was a hole of silence in the quilt of sound, and it was shaped like you. It’s been 15 rotations, not that Crosshair’s counting, without your laugh ringing out, without your back popping loudly as you stretched when you woke up, without your voice whispering his name, as you sleepily let him know it was his turn on watch.
The five of them had been together, and they’d never needed or wanted anyone else in their space, on their team. Crosshair hadn’t even wanted you around at first. Wrecker had warmed to you quickly, but of course a pretty thing like you would never need the hard sell with Wrecker. Hunter had been wary of you, but in an effort to keep Wrecker from getting too attached, he’d inadvertently formed his own attachment to your presence. As for Tech and Echo, they’d kept their distance well enough, but your quiet intelligence, and curiosity had drawn them in.
Crosshair had been the holdout. Incensed by every breath you drew in his presence. The way you checked in with him after every mission, as if he needed you poking and prodding him. But when he needed stitches, you’d asked for permission to help him. If he didn’t want you to touch him, you wouldn’t.
“I’d never do anything without your consent. You’re in control here,” you’d said, holding your kit in steady hands, as you waited for his decision. He’d watched you with rapt attention through the mirror, your fingers resting gently against his skin, as you carefully cleaned, stitched up, and bandaged the wound on his shoulder.
After that, he would silently request your assistance when he needed it, and over time even when he didn’t need it. He would never say it out loud, but bacta patches placed by your gentle hands worked better. Your stitches were nearly painless. And the way you’d hum while you worked…well, that was just adorable.
When Commander Cody had requested you for a short stint, Wrecker had grumbled endlessly, and Crosshair had been the first to tell him to suck it up because you’d be back in their hair soon enough. He needed the space to clear his head, and he hoped the others would come to their senses without you in their presence.
Wrecker admitted to missing you within 12 hours. Tech kept finding excuses to talk about you. Meanwhile Hunter and Echo kept pointing out things you would like, and setting them aside for you. They had also placed bets on when Crosshair would snap and march onto the Negotiator to steal you back. Not that they would be upset if he did.
When it became clear that Crosshair would rather eat his armor than admit to being the least bit interested in you, the four of them had dragged him into the cockpit to decide what they would do when you returned. The feelings were there, and they weren’t going anywhere, but how to proceed.
“We should just come out and say it!” Wrecker said, feeling like the matter was concluded.
“It needs to be a tad more romantic than that,” Echo said shaking his head.
“According to my observations of her, she would appreciate a romantic gesture,” Tech said.
“Flowers?” Wrecker offered.
“She deserves more than flowers for putting up with us,” Echo said laughing.
“We could make a stop on her home world. It’s not too far out of the way,” Hunter added. “I think she’d like that.”
“This is a waste of time,” Crosshair said rolling his eyes. “You’re fooling yourselves.”
“When have Hunter’s senses ever been wrong?” Tech asked not even bothering to look up. “According to what he’s told me, she’s at the very least physically attracted to us. Based on her behavior that extends to an emotional bond as well.”
“What happened to not getting attached?” Crosshair challenged, and his brothers all looked at each other before looking back at him.
“You know you’re not as subtle as you think, Crosshair,” Echo said.
“And if I can tell how anyone’s feeling, it’s the four of you,” Hunter added.
“You’re all delusional,” Crosshair said shaking his head.
“You had her put a bacta patch on your arm last mission, and you coulda done it yourself,” Wrecker said giving the sniper a playful shove.
“She is our medic, she should at least pretend to do a job around here,” Crosshair said defensively. It was a losing battle, and he knew it. The others were blissfully under your spell, but he was not about to let you hurt him. Not about to let you reject him. No matter how badly he wanted you.
But as the clock rolled into the 16th rotation without you, it was Crosshair who hated your absence more than anyone. The others were open about it in their own ways, but he held it close. It was one of the few secrets he’d kept from his brothers. The realization annoyed him, as he swung his long legs over the side of his bunk to take over on watch for Hunter.
Sensing the tension rolling off of his younger brother, Hunter cleared his throat.
“She’ll be back in 2 rotations, and you’ll get to sleep longer again.” He knew it wasn’t sleep Crosshair was after, but it was the best way to let him know you were on your way back without suggesting the sniper actually missed you lest they wind up in another argument.
“Oh good, the little doctor will be back to baby Wrecker again, and you can all confess your love, and live happily ever after,” Crosshair sneered, but Hunter knew him well. There was no bite in his tone, and his face was more relaxed than Hunter had seen it since you waved goodbye and disappeared into the Negotiator.
“She just commed to see if we could pick her up before our next mission, and I almost said no,” Hunter said absently, as Crosshair dropped into the co-pilot’s seat. It wasn’t true, but he could hear Crosshair’s heart racing, his teeth grinding in frustration.
“I thought you were dying to have her back,” Crosshair bit out.
“Well, Cody’s really wanting to keep her, and it would be a great opportunity for her,” This part was true, but he knew he shouldn’t tease his brother this way even though he was sure whatever doubt your absence hadn’t wiped out, would be obliterated by jealousy.
“Commander Cody has a squad of medics. He doesn’t need her,” Crosshair replied, scoffing. The thought of Cody trying to tempt you away from them with a Star Destroyer and a Jedi annoyed Crosshair down to his bones. You wouldn’t be swayed by a big ship, and fancy toys. Would you?
“You’ve got a point,” Hunter began before putting the last nail in the coffin. “He doesn’t need her…maybe he just wants her.”
He could hear Crosshair’s heart thumping wildly, as he tried to maintain his composure.
“Doubt it,” Crosshair grumbled after several moments spent working to unclench his jaw.
“Guess we’ll find out,” Hunter said, rising from the pilot’s chair. “The call’s recorded, so you can watch it, and see for yourself.”
“I’m sure she’ll never shut up about it when she’s back,” Crosshair said dismissively.
Humming softly with a shrug, Hunter said good night, and left Crosshair alone. The sharpshooter waited until he was sure Hunter was asleep before playing your conversation.
As your form appeared, bathed in blue, a smile tugged at Crosshair’s lips. Had you always been this beautiful?
“Hi, Sarge! It’s so good to see you. I’ve missed you boys like crazy,” you nearly moaned.
He’d never heard you make a sound like that. He immediately thought of you making that sound just for him, which annoyed him, but he couldn’t stop listening.
“We miss you too, cyar’ika. I’m sure you’re having fun though,” Hunter replied.
“It’s been nice to stretch my legs a bit and put some of the things I’ve learned to use. Commander Cody’s amazing…he’s uh, asked me if I want to stay on,” You look shy, nervous.
“Oh, is that uh, something you’re interested in?”
“Don’t get me wrong the Negotiator is spectacular, and I’ve enjoyed my time with the 212th,” you bite your lip, shifting your weight. You seem unsure if you should continue. After a moment, you pressed on, “but they’re missing a few things I can’t live without, so I’d like to come home, back to the Marauder I mean.”
“We’ll be glad to have you back,” Hunter replied.
“Good,” You look so relieved. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you boys since I left. Are you getting enough quiet time? Are Tech and Echo sleeping? Is Wreck staying out of trouble? Is Cross eating properly?”
Crosshair barely hears the rest of conversation because he can’t get past the part where you miss them, where you were worried about him.
“I’ll be all packed up and ready to go in two rotations. Do you mind coming to get me?” Your needy tone shakes Crosshair out of his thoughts. “I could get a shuttle, but it would take another rotation or two, and I don’t think I can wait that long.”
Crosshair realized he couldn’t either. He needed you back immediately. Sooner, really.
“Of course, doll,” Hunter says soothingly. “Two rotations, and we’ll be there.”
Reassured, your shoulders relax, “Wonderful! I can’t wait to see all of you! I’m sure Crosshair has enjoyed the break from me, but I’ve missed him so much. I miss all of you, Hunter.” Your voice is so tender, it makes his heart clench.
He had not enjoyed the break at all though. Between his brothers giving him a hard time, and wanting you back, he was miserable.
Two rotations. It wouldn’t be long now.
***
Crosshair’s leg was bouncing, as the Marauder docked with the Negotiator. You were so close, almost home.
The five of them boarded the Star Destroyer, and Crosshair’s eyes began searching for you immediately. Cody was there to greet them, grasping Hunter’s arm in welcome.
“Good to see you, Commander,” Hunter said warmly.
“Good to see you too, Sergeant,” Cody began, “I’m not going to lie, I tried to keep your medic. She’s brilliant, and the men adore her.”
“Of course they do,” Wrecker’s pride in you is evident.
“She said the Negotiator was missing a few necessities,” Cody quirked an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
“She’s quite mistaken. The Havoc Marauder is not equipped with even 10% of what a Republic Venator has,” Tech says, brow furrowed.
“It doesn’t have Gonky,” Wrecker said as though it were obvious.
“It doesn’t have the five of you either!” you quipped, appearing at Cody’s elbow.
“Cyar’ika!” Wrecker bellowed, scooping you up and spinning you around.
“Wrecker!” you squealed as you returned his hug as tightly as you could
Crosshair’s heart was pounding again. He waited at the back of the group, watching his brothers welcome you back. Pressing their foreheads to yours, ghosting their fingers over your jaw, holding the back of your head gently. Then you were standing in front of him. Arms clasped behind your back, not reaching for him as you had the others. Respecting his space as always.
“I’m happy to see you too, Cross. Ready to deal with me every day again?”
“Are you ready to deal with me? All of us, again?”
“Ready and looking forward to it!” Your smile is bright and he nearly reached for you then, but he stopped himself.
“Well, Commander, you know where to find us, if you need us…or our medic again,” Hunter said with a grin.
“It was an honor serving alongside the 212th, Commander. I appreciate the opportunity,” You saluted Cody, and the others followed suit.
“The pleasure was all ours,” Cody returned the salute, and watched as the six of you returned to the Marauder.
***
You’re getting settled back into your space on the Marauder, answering questions from Wrecker, curious about the armory and ordnance, and Tech pestering you for every detail about the Negotiator, as Echo and Hunter wait to get a word in edgewise.
“Come on, boys. Give her some breathing room,” Hunter says, scooting them towards the cockpit, ignoring their protests.
“It’s good to have you back, saraad,” Echo said with a soft smile, that made your heart skip a beat.
You smile fondly at them as they go, going back to unpacking your things, and changing.
Crosshair is in his bunk, pretending he’s not watching you, but he can’t focus on anything else. Every inch of skin you reveal is making his body react. His heart thumping, breath growing shallow, as he drinks you in. This isn’t even the first time he’s seen you naked or changing, but it feels different now. He frowns as he notices a bandage on your hip peaking out of your panties, wrapping around your hip. It’s covered swiftly by the bottom half of a fresh set of blacks.
He slid out of his bunk, and you turned to face him, as you pulled the top half down covering your stomach, hiding your skin from his gaze. Naturally, you stepped back to give him space, and you were pleasantly surprised when he deliberately stepped closer. You looked up at him expectantly, eyes searching his for any hint of what he’s up to.
Crosshair was sure he should say something, but his mind was only offering sardonic quips that would convey the truth, but not like he wanted. He lifted a hand, and tapped your hip softly, fingertips resting against you. This was the first time Crosshair had ever touched you without necessity. Your heart sped up, and you swallowed hard.
“What’s this?” he asked, his voice low and even.
“Rooftop sniper,” you shook your head, folding your arms. “One of the other medics wasn’t as lucky. He was still in the med bay when you came to pick me up. No one could have clocked him to be fair.”
“I could have,” Crosshair said, anger simmering under his even tone.
“Well, there’s only one Crosshair in the galaxy. Next time I leave, I’ll take you with me.” You smiled up at him, but his face held the frown.
“Hey, I’m ok. Still good to do my job,” you added, brow furrowing.
“Fucking regs,” He swore, as he shifted his hand to hold your hip gently like you were a fragile thing. A fragile thing that belonged to him.
You hesitated before resting your hand against his chest, tapping your fingertips against the plastoid.
“Cross, I’m home, and in one piece. How can I show you?”
An eyebrow raised at that, sharp eyes taking you in, lingering on your lips, as they parted, a silent invitation for him. He leaned down, bringing his lips close to yours, begging you to close the distance. You wrapped your arms around his trim waist, as you pressed your lips to his softly.
The ache that had been simmering in his chest since you left is morphing into arousal, moving to settle down in his belly. His lips moved tentatively against yours, teeth nipping gently at your bottom lip.
“Hey,” Wrecker protested loudly. “We agreed we’d all talk to her together, Crosshair!”
The two of you break apart, and you clear your throat, your eyes trained on Crosshair.
“Talk to me about what?” You asked, breathlessly.
“Sorry, doll,” Crosshair said before Wrecker tugged him away in a headlock.
“What are you gonna talk to me about?” you asked again.
“When we get home, cyar’ika,” Wrecker said before turning to Crosshair. “Knew you were full of it, Cross!”
You touch your lips, as you watch the pair of them playfully fighting down the corridor. Did that happen? You pinched your arm as hard as you could, grimacing when it hurt, confirming you were awake, Crosshair had just kissed you. What the hell happened while you were gone? And what did they need to talk to you about?
***
In the cockpit on watch, you relaxed in the copilot’s chair, Tech snoozed gently in the pilot’s chair. It was so good to be home despite the fact that there was clearly something going on with your boys. Your alarm beeped, and you rose from the chair, yawning and stretching ready to trade out with Crosshair, and pass out for a little while.
Hunter intercepted you in the hallway with a grin. “I can’t sleep, so I’ll cover for Crosshair. Go get some rest.” He kissed your forehead, and added, “Good to have you home, Doc.”
“Good to be home, Sarge,” you replied before bidding him goodnight, and heading towards your bunk.
“Hunter?” You turn towards him.
“Hmm?” Hunter asks turning to you.
“What happened while I was gone? Why’s everyone acting weird?”
“We’ll talk when we get back to Kamino. Get some rest,” He says with a mysterious grin that makes you bite your lip.
You pout but follow his orders and head to your bunk. You’re about to climb in when you look towards Crosshair’s bunk. He was the least likely to spill the beans, but he had kissed you earlier. Was that the big secret?
You moved to stand near Crosshair’s bunk. Pushing back the privacy curtain, you whispered his name like you normally would to wake him up for his shift.
“My turn already?” he replied sleepily.
“No, Hunter’s there. I was hoping we could talk about earlier, or we could just sleep,” Even after your encounter earlier, he still made you nervous, and you worried you’d made a mistake until he lifted the blankets, and silently invited you into his bed.
You crawled in, and he lowered the blanket over your body before snaking his arm around your waist and pushing his leg between yours. His muscular thigh pressed up against you, sending a wave of heat through your body. He tucked your head beneath his chin, and it became clear he was not saying a word, so you listened to his heartbeat until you were lulled to sleep.
When you woke up a few hours later, you realized that you hadn’t slept well at all while you were gone. You needed to be crammed into the Marauder with your squad to relax. It helped that Crosshair had held you the entire time, and as you stretched and arched your back you realized he was looking at you.
“Did you sleep well?” you asked quietly not wanting to disturb the others. He simply nodded, his eyes roaming your face, as his hand rested on your waist.
“Good. We should be home soon, yeah?” you asked, rolling onto your back before sitting up.
“Something like that,” Crosshair replied cryptically.
You didn’t bother asking what he meant before sliding out of the bunk, and tossing him a smile.
“I’m going to see where we are. Go back to sleep.”
Once again he nodded, but he knew there was no chance of going back to sleep. Not when he knew what they had planned for the day.
You wandered into the cockpit, taking the co-pilot’s seat next to Echo.
“How was your first night back?” Echo asked smiling as you got comfortable in the chair.
“Cozy. I didn’t realize how much I’d miss you guys until I was gone.”
“I don’t think we did either,” he confesses.
“Oh yeah?” You asked, trying not to seem too happy about it.
He nodded, and the two of you were quiet for a moment. As always silence was never awkward with Echo, and while this was no exception, you could feel a tension in the air. It was reminiscent of the one you’d felt the night before when Crosshair had kissed you.
“I don’t suppose I can get you to tell me what’s going on?” You asked, turning the chair towards him and leaning forward.
“Always so impatient, saraad,” Echo says shaking his head.
“I can’t help it. Something’s up. Crosshair has been sweet to me,” you add in a conspiratorial whisper.
Echo huffs out a short laugh.
“Oh has he now?”
“Yeah, and,” you hesistate. You want to keep going, to spill every thought in your head to Echo, but something’s got your tongue. “It’s nothing.” You turn your chair back into place, and ask, “Where are we? How far from home?”
Reluctantly, Echo tears his gaze away from you. He looks over the navicomputer.
“Not far.”
“You wanna get some sleep? I can get us to Kamino safely.”
He raises an eyebrow at that.
“Ok, I can get us there. No promises on the condition,” you concede.
“You’re meant to be resting. Crosshair told us what happened,” Echo trails off.
“I told you he was being sweet to me, but I guess a kiss is a little more than sweet…”
“Kiss?! I meant you getting shot!” Echo hisses trying not to wake the others, as he spins towards you.
“He told you about that?!” You hiss back, spinning towards him.
“Of course he did. Why didn’t you?”
“I didn’t wanna worry you guys. Cross was not happy when he saw the bandage, and…”
“Of course he wasn’t. And I’m not happy you didn’t tell us. We could have lost you,” Echo’s eyes are worried, his brow knit together, as he reaches for your face.
His fingertips have just brushed your jaw when the cockpit opens, and the pair of you sit back and look towards the door.
“You’re supposed to be resting,” Hunter says, gesturing for you to follow him.
“I was,” you pout. “I just wanted to see if we were close to home.”
“That’s funny because it sounded like you were arguing about keeping your injury a secret,” Hunter says. Out of everyone on the ship, you never thought Crosshair would be the one to tell on you.
“No, I was just…trying to…ya know?”
“No, I don’t know, senaar’ika. Now get in your bunk and rest your eyes. I’ll wake you the moment we land.”
“Fine,” you relent, and climb into your bunk, and even your racing brain can’t keep you awake.
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taglist: @dystopicjumpsuit (not sure if you wanted to be tagged in everything or not, so just let me know 🥰)
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vodika-vibes · 23 days
Note
hello!!! i would like to request something for the follower event please! i would like to request aquamarine with wrecker in fall please! i also want wrecker to be emotionally intelligent please! i feel like it’s something that’s very underrated abt him.
i was thinking about something where the reader is the medic to the bad batch, who has been recently heartbroken so horribly by an ex that she’s given up on love entirely. then wrecker comes along being his lovable, caring, and joyous self and the reader can feel herself falling for him. but because of her history with love, she tries to close herself off from him.
wrecker, who has been falling in love with the reader, can see that something is wrong, and tries to help but receives a cold shoulder. eventually wrecker confesses his feelings for the reader, and the reader tells wrecker that she feels the same but is scared about getting hurt again. wrecker reassures her that he is not going to break her heart, and tells her that love is about taking a leap of faith.
so the reader takes that leap of faith and it ends with the reader and wrecker having their first kiss!
absolutely no rush to get this finished btw! thank you so much, and i hope you have a wonderful day/night!!
I Can Fix That
Summary: Wrecker knows that the pretty Doctor has sworn off love. She’s never been shy about that, or about how awfully her ex treated her. But, he’s pretty sure that he can fix this.
Pairing: TBB Wrecker x F!Reader
Word Count: 652
Prompts: Aquamarine - Healing Love
Warnings: Implications of a previous abusive relationship, though there's no details
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly
A/N: Sorry that this took so long! I needed to come up with a good idea, and I think I finally found one. Also, I couldn't add in all of the details, due to my self-imposed word limit, but the implications are there.
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“You need some help, Doc?” Wrecker asks with a grin as he knocks on the door to the medbay on the Marauder, “I’ve got nothing to do and Hunter told me to make myself useful.”
She frowns at him, though Wrecker can tell it’s not because she’s annoyed with him, so much as the situation, “I’m actually all set here, Wrecker. So long as no one gets hurt, it’ll stay that way.”
“Well, you know what Tech is like.”
She pauses, and then makes a face and turns to pull some bandages out from over the sink, “Honestly, for such a smart man you’d think that he’d be able to pay more attention.”
Wrecker grins, “He does pay attention. To his project.”
“You’re not helping.”
He laughs, “Sorry, sorry.” He settles on one of the chairs and stretches his legs out, “In any event, as soon as Tech finishes the repairs we can get out of here. I’m not a huge fan of how humid it is.”
She shoots him an odd look, “I mean, I don’t like it either. But why do you dislike it so much?”
Wrecker’s grin widens and he smooths his hand over his head, “It’ll ruin my hair.”
A startled laugh falls from her pretty lips, and Wrecker’s wide grin softens. He’s glad that she’s not giving him the cold shoulder anymore, it makes flirting with her so much easier.
Her laughter subsides after a few moments, but a few giggles still escape her lips, “You’re such a goof, Wrecker.”
“Well, someone on this ship has to be funny, it might as well be me.” He folds his arms over his chest, “You know,” Wrecker says slowly after a moment, “We’re going back to Ord Mantell after this.”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“Well, there’s this nice little food stall, they sell these little pancake things with desserts in the middle-?”
“You mean crepes?” She asks.
“Yeah, I think that’s what they’re called.” He watches her closely, “You want to get some with me?”
She pauses, and there’s a flash of uncertainty on her face.
“No judgment if you don’t, Firefly.” Wrecker adds, his voice gentle, “I know that your ex and his actions make dating hard, make trusting people hard-”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Wrecker-”
He holds up a hand, “Let me talk, please?”
She settles, though the look of uncertainty lingers on her face.
“Thank you.” Wrecker pauses to collect his thoughts, “I love you. You’re…amazing. You’re smart and kind and funny and good. And you’re so afraid of being hurt that you refuse to even consider a relationship.”
She ducks her head, her hands clutching the hem of her jacket.
“And that’s fine. I have no idea of the kind of stuff your ex put you through, but I can guess.” Wrecker leans in, “This is me making sure that you know that I’m interested. And me letting you know that I’m a patient man and I can wait until you’re ready for a relationship.”
She blinks at him, startled.
“So, what do you say? Want to get crepes with me? Just as friends, no more.”
She’s quiet for a long time, long enough that Wrecker starts to think that she’s going to turn him down, but then her grip loosens on the hem of her jacket, “Do you remember if they had fruit crepes?”
And Wrecker grins, “You know, I think they do.”
“Well, in that case…” She won’t meet his gaze, “I do like crepes. And I like spending time with you.”
“Then it’s a date.” Her gaze snaps up, and he grins, “A friend date, but a date all the same.” Wrecker pushes to his feet, “Now, I have to go. I was supposed to be helping Tech.”
She blinks, and then laughs, “Wrecker!”
“What? You’re so much better to look at than my own brother. See you later, Doc!”
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