What Bullshittery, I Prefer Him After, He’s Just So Pretty 😍

Echo is coming back and is gonna be a main character is a clone-centric animated series? I’m feeling blessed.

I’m not normally a Wrecker gal but dang this was adorable

Playing Pretend

Pairing: Wrecker x Twi'Lek fem!Reader

Words: 16,373

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

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

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

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This mission is going to be a disaster.

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

It’s his own ability that gives him pause.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That last part is the hardest.

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

Easy peasy.

At least, that's what Tech said.

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

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

“You alright, big guy?” 

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

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

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

No, he’s not alright.

You look absolutely stunning.

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

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

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

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

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

But this is so, so much.

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

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

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

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

He swallows. Hard.

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

Wrecker forces out the first words on his mind.

“Wow! You look—wow..."

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

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

Holy shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks," he mumbles.

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

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

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

Except, this isn't real.

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

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

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

"I—thank you, Wrecker."

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

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

"Yeah?"

You nod. "Yeah."

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

"So do you."

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

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

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

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

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

A second passes. Two.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It's fine."

Wrecker bites his tongue, but only barely.

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

The thought makes him angry. It isn't right, and he hates that you've been forced into this position. Until tonight, he'd held out some misguided hope that you wouldn't ever have to be put in a situation like this again.

He knows you can handle a lot more than most, but you shouldn't have to.

"Really, Wrecker, I'm fine," you say again, and it's only then that he realizes he's been staring at you.

"Are you sure? ‘Cause if—"

You step forward, putting a hand on his chest and looking up at him. His eyes catch on the shine of your lips, and the warmth of your hand against his chest makes his heart race.

"If you keep asking me, I'm gonna start to think you don't want to be my husband," you tease.

"I'd love to be your husband," Wrecker replies without missing a beat, and he means it.

The words are true, even if the context isn't. It's the closest thing he'll get to a wedding with you, and that thought makes him want to scream. Instead, he settles on smiling, even as his heart races and his palms sweat.

"I'm sorry, I just don't wanna make you feel—"

"I'm kidding, ma sareen," you say, shaking your head, "I know. But really, it's okay."

He gives a slow nod, not sure how to respond. You've called him that before, and while he doesn't speak Ryl, he does know it's a term of endearment. One that he's overhead Suu say to Cut a few times, and one that you've used with him, and only him.

Every time, it makes him smile. But it's one thing for you to say it casually, and another entirely to say it in front of strangers, pretending to be married to him. He doesn't know why the thought makes his heart pound in his chest, or his ears grow warm.

"And hey, at least I have someone who can protect me, right?"

He grins proudly, and nods. That, he can do.

"You got that right."

"Then what's there to worry about?" you ask, a smile on your face.

That I might embarrass you, is what Wrecker wants to say, but doesn't. Instead, he follows you towards the door. You pause just before stepping through, looking up at him expectantly. He doesn't quite understand until you reach out and hold your hand palm up.

"Well?"

"What?"

"Give me your hand, Wrecker," you laugh.

"Oh, right," Wrecker stutters, slipping his hand into yours.

His hands are rough and calloused from years of fighting, but your hand is soft and gentle, and he tries his best not to squeeze too hard. You lead him out of the room and to the lift. You lean against him, your head resting on his shoulder, and his breath catches in his throat.

"Relax, big guy, you've got this," you whisper, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

Wrecker hopes you're right.

He's not sure how long the two of you have been here. An hour? Maybe two?

Whatever it is, it's long enough that his face hurts from fake smiling. His shoulders are tense, and he keeps a steady hand on your lower back, not willing to let go.

As soon as the two of you had walked through the door, the guards had taken your weapons, and it had been the first time Wrecker had felt truly unsettled since leaving the ship. Not only was he unarmed, but now, you were as well, and he was responsible for keeping you safe. They'd even taken the knife you'd tucked into the holster on your thigh.

They'd also frisked you, and while it wasn't the first time, or even the first time for him, it was the first time he'd seen it done like that. The guard had run his hands up the inside of your thigh, his thumb dangerously close to places he never should've been touching, and Wrecker had seen red.

The man was lucky all Wrecker did was grab his wrist and pull it away, his grip tight enough to bruise. The guard had stumbled, his face red as he tried and failed to apologize. It didn't matter to him. The bastard wouldn't be able to use that hand for a while, and Wrecker hadn't felt bad at all.

After, he'd wrapped his arm around your waist and held you close. He knows he probably shouldn't have, but he needed the reminder that you were safe. He could pretend it was just for show, but really, it was to comfort himself.

It doesn't help that every eye in the room has been on the two of you since you arrived, and while the stares are likely directed at you, Wrecker still doesn't like it. It makes his blood boil, and his skin crawl, and all he wants to do is get out of here. He hates how uncomfortable and vulnerable it makes him feel, and the fact that it's affecting him at all is embarrassing.

You seem to be doing just fine, chatting with various people, laughing and smiling and, unfortunately, flirting.

Not with him, no. With all the men and women around you.

It's the nature of the job, he knows that, but it still sucks.

You're doing your best to blend in, and it's working. He just tries his best to keep up with you. He doesn't trust any of these people, not even for a second, and the tension in his shoulders doesn't ease, no matter how hard he tries.

This is the first time he's been in a party like this, and he doesn't think he likes it.

When Tech had said the target was having a party, he'd expected loud music, maybe some dancing. What he got was an old-fashioned cocktail party, the type he's only ever seen in holovids, and the kind where the rich and powerful mingle and talk about politics and money.

It's boring, and the people are rude, and the lights of the chandelier make his eye twitch. But worst of all, no one can take their eyes off you, and he can't blame them. Even after the initial shock of seeing you dressed like that has passed, his eyes can't help but trail down the length of your body. And while you're definitely the most beautiful person in the room, he thinks there's a part of him that doesn't want anyone else to see you.

At least there's good food. And drink. And while he would never dare touch you without permission, it's nice to know he can do so now.

So he's taken every opportunity to do just that, to let everyone around know that you're his. He's kept his hand on the small of your back, the curve of your hip, the bend of your waist, and he's made sure to be close to you at all times. You don't seem to mind, which is the best part, and it makes his chest swell with pride.

Your arm is tucked around his, your fingers laced with his own, and he loves the way you lean into him, like you need him, like he's a safe place for you. He doesn't know if you do, but it doesn't stop him from wishing.

Wrecker looks at the ring on his finger. It's a simple gold band, nothing fancy, and it reminds him that this isn't real. It's just for the job, and he has to keep reminding himself of that. Because if he doesn't, it'll be easy for him to lose sight of that. And if he loses sight, he might do something stupid, like kiss you, and he's not sure if he'd be able to stop.

"So, where did you two meet?"

Wrecker tears his gaze away from you and to the Twi'lek across from him, her blue lekku adorned with jewels. He has no idea who she is, but the two of you are getting along so well he doesn't want to interrupt. You're the only Twi'leks in the room, and he thinks that might be the only reason the two of you are talking at all.

"Oh, it's a little embarrassing, actually," you answer, a shy smile on your face.

You squeeze his hand and glance up at him, and his stomach flutters.

"Not really," he mumbles, cheeks warm.

"You don't think so, but I might," you giggle, and Wrecker can't help the way his mouth quirks up in a smile. He wants to kiss your forehead, or your cheek, or your lips, but he doesn't.

The Twi'lek woman laughs and sips her drink, leaning in close to listen.

"C'mon, tell me, I'm dying to know."

Wrecker's not sure what story you've told everyone else, so he's not sure if this is part of it, but the way you look up at him makes his heart skip a beat. You squeeze his hand again, and he wonders if it's supposed to be a sign. It's a little distracting.

"Well, um, we met when he saved my life."

Wrecker nearly chokes on his drink.

The Twi'lek raises a brow, glancing between the two of you. "Really?"

"Mhm."

"That's not embarrassing."

"Yes, it is. Because he saved my life, and instead of being grateful, I called him an idiot," you tell her, a blush rising to your cheeks.

It's the truth. When you were still an officer, your unit was under fire. You'd been separated from your squad, pinned down, and Wrecker had found you. He'd pulled you from your hiding spot and out of the way, and the two of you had barely escaped unscathed. But the first words you'd said to him were, 'You idiot, you almost shot me.'

In his defense, he was a little distracted at the time.

"What did you say to that?"

Wrecker shrugs, taking a sip of his drink. "Not much."

You look up at him, your eyes shining. "I mean, he did save my life, so I apologized, obviously."

"Obviously," the woman nods.

"And, um, well," you stumble, and Wrecker wonders what's making you so nervous. It's not like you to be caught off guard, but you seem almost embarrassed. "He's the kindest man I've ever met, and I was immediately charmed by him."

Wrecker can't hide the surprise that crosses his face, but he does his best.

"It was hard not to fall for him," you admit, a softness in your voice that wasn't there before, "and, well, here we are."

Your gaze meets his, and the tenderness in your eyes takes his breath away.

"So romantic," the woman sighs, and you nod in agreement.

"Yeah, it's...it's somethin'," Wrecker says quietly, his chest tight.

He doesn't think anyone's ever talked about him like that, let alone in front of a bunch of strangers.

You lean into him, a soft smile on your face. Wrecker's hand slides from your waist to rest on the small of your back, and his eyes linger on the curve of your lip, the slight shimmer on your cheek. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and your eyes drop down to watch the motion, and his heart thuds against his ribcage.

He can't help but wonder if maybe there's some truth to what you're saying. It's not like you've been lying the entire time, and Wrecker isn't naïve. He knows this is all part of the act, but the way you're looking at him makes him feel like you might mean it.

Wrecker can't help the way his mind wanders, or the way his stomach flutters when your lips brush his ear as you whisper, "You alright, darling?"

His breath hitches in his throat, and it's hard not to shudder as you trail a finger up his arm.

"Yeah, m'fine," he manages, the words shaky.

Your lips brush the shell of his ear, and he has to fight the urge to groan.

"We've got company," you whisper.

Wrecker tenses, scanning the room. It takes a moment for him to realize you mean the target. He's making his way through the crowd, and it's only a matter of moments before he's approaching.

"Mr. and Mrs. Kasta," he greets, an air of confidence in his voice, "welcome."

Wrecker nods at him, keeping his mouth shut. He doesn't trust himself not to say something stupid. He's already fucked up a few times tonight, and he doesn't want to embarrass himself. Besides, you're already taking the lead, smiling brightly at the man.

"Thank you for having us, Mr. Dralig," you tell him, giving a slight bow.

"Please, call me Bohme," he insists, returning the gesture. "Always a pleasure to meet such an esteemed couple as yourselves. You look ravishing, Mrs. Kasta."

You blush, and Wrecker fights the urge to roll his eyes. You are the most stunning woman in the room, and he can't imagine how this asshole could think otherwise, but the compliment still makes him bristle. He can't understand why you don't seem more annoyed.

"Well, thank you," you say, a hint of laughter in your voice.

"I do hope you're enjoying yourselves," Bohme continues, "the food, the music, the view."

The man's eyes linger on you for a moment too long, and Wrecker doesn't have to be a genius to figure out what he means.

"Oh, yes, very much so," you reply easily, ignoring the implication, "thank you."

Bohme nods, and then turns his attention to Wrecker, giving him a quick once-over. Wrecker tenses. The man is short and thin, his features pinched and pale, but his eyes are sharp, and his mouth is curved up in a smile that's almost predatory.

"I must say, I was a little surprised when I learned the Kastas would be joining us tonight. I was told they were unable to make it."

Wrecker narrows his eyes, watching the man carefully.

"Yes, well, our schedules opened up, and my husband was able to move some things around. It's rare we get a night off, so I jumped at the chance," you tell him, reaching out to grab Wrecker's arm and squeeze it.

He's glad you're playing the part so well. It's definitely not something he's capable of, and he can't help but feel a little useless. But he can at least make sure you're not alone, and that this guy keeps his hands off you.

"Well, I'm glad you could make it."

"We're glad we could too. The party's been wonderful."

"Glad to hear it."

Wrecker shifts slightly, feeling the weight of the man's gaze. There's something unsettling about him, and Wrecker's never been able to hide his disdain for the people they're forced to work for. But Bohme's the mark, and so he tries his best not to stare, but he's never been good at playing nice.

"If I'm being honest, I thought the rumors were exaggerated."

Wrecker frowns, and you look a little surprised.

"Oh?"

"I see the scars aren't," Bohme adds, gesturing to Wrecker's face.

Wrecker doesn't reply, only glares. The scars have never bothered him, not really. Sure, sometimes people stare, or ask him about them, and sometimes that's more than a little awkward. But he doesn't hate them. He mostly just forgets they're there until he gets one of the phantom pains, or someone points them out.

This man, though, he's staring, and not with curiosity, but with judgement, and it makes Wrecker’s skin crawl. He clenches his jaw, looking for the words to tell him off that won’t make the entire operation fail, but thankfully, you're quicker than him.

"No, but I quite like them," you say, reaching up and brushing a hand over his scarred cheek.

Wrecker swallows, his head tilting down to meet your gaze. Your touch is gentle, your thumb brushing under his eye, and he watches as your eyes shift from cold fury to something warmer, kinder.

"They remind me of just how brave and selfless my husband is," you tell him, the words soft, almost as if they're just for him.

Wrecker blinks, his lips parting. He wants to respond, but his throat is dry, and he's not sure what he would say even if he could.

"And I would be lost without him," you add, your fingers sliding across his jaw.

He knows this isn't real, that it's just for show, and he's just a means to an end, but he can't help the way his heart races in his chest. Because the way you're looking at him isn't fake, and neither are your words. He doesn't know how he's so sure, but he is.

He can't find his voice, and he doesn't trust himself to speak, so instead, he takes your hand and presses his lips to the inside of your wrist. You gasp, and your mouth parts, and he's so focused on the warmth of your skin and the way you blush that he barely registers the sound of Bohme's laughter.

"Oh, to be young and in love."

Wrecker doesn't pay attention to the rest of the conversation. He doesn't care. All he can focus on is you. The way you look up at him, and the softness in your eyes. The way you're pressed against him, and the way his arm is wrapped around you, and the way it feels like you belong there.

You've always felt right in his arms, like you fit perfectly, and every time you touch him, he wonders if it's the last. That's how it is now. Like it could end at any moment. So, he's memorizing everything, every detail, the feel of your skin, the sound of your voice, the scent of your perfume.

Because when this is all over, he'll never be close to you like this again, and he'll never forget it.

"Ma sareen." 

He snaps out of his trance at the sound of your voice. "Hmm?"

"Could you be a dear and get me a drink?"

"Sure thing, sweetheart."

Wrecker leans in, pressing his lips to your temple, and he relishes the way your cheeks turn red and the sound of your breath hitching in your throat. He doesn't know what he's doing. All he knows is that it's worth it to see the look on your face, and the way Bohme looks like he's swallowed a lemon.

He gives your waist a gentle squeeze and turns, making his way through the crowd to the bar. It's the furthest place from the door, and the longest walk of his life, because his head is swimming, and his heart is pounding, and it’s giving him too much time to think.

And when he does, all he can think about is you. He's not blind. He can see the way you've been looking at him tonight, and the way you're touching him. It's driving him crazy, and the more time he spends here with you, the harder it is to convince himself that you don't feel the same.

Maybe you do feel the same, and he's just been missing the signs, too afraid to see them. Maybe he should do something about it.

The thought is scary. What if he does, and he's wrong?

But then he remembers the way your fingers slid across his cheek, the way you leaned into his side,  and the way you blush whenever he calls you sweetheart. It's enough to give him hope.

"What can I get for you?" the bartender asks.

Wrecker blinks, glancing down at him. He'd forgotten why he was here, and his cheeks warm as he fumbles for an answer. Champagne seems like the right call for you. You'd both had a few glasses earlier, and it was fine, but he needed something much stronger if he was going to have a chance at getting through the rest of the night.

"Whiskey, neat.”

He doesn't pay attention as the bartender pours his drink. He turns around toward where couples are dancing, scanning the room for you. When he finally finds you, his stomach twists, and he has to force himself to breathe.

Bohme has his hands on your hips, and your hand is on his chest, and the way his head dips toward yours sends a flash of anger through him. The two of you are dancing, swaying back and forth, and while Wrecker knows it's a mission, and that you're just playing a part, it still makes his stomach churn.

Because even from here, he can see the look in the man's eyes, and it's not one of someone who's just playing a part.

"Is that all?" the bartender asks.

"What—no, no. Give me another," Wrecker mutters, grabbing the first glass and downing it in a single gulp.

It burns his throat, but it's the distraction he needs, because the two of you are getting closer. He's not sure if Bohme is going in for a kiss, but he knows he's not going to be able to watch it happen.

The second glass goes down just as quickly, and Wrecker winces, slamming the glass back on the bar and turning around. He doesn't know what's come over him. He's not a jealous person. Never has been, not even a little. He's been on plenty of missions with you, and seen you get close with other men, and while he didn't like it, he's never felt this.

Wrecker pushes past the dancing couples and walks toward the two of you. As soon as Bohme's hand slides lower on your back, Wrecker knows it's too much. You've gone along with the plan, but Wrecker's not going to stand here and watch you be taken advantage of, not by him, or anyone.

He storms up to the two of you, ignoring the startled looks on your faces and those around you. Before he can even think about what he's doing, Wrecker wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you close. His hand settles on your lower back, your skin warm and soft against his palm.

"Can I cut in?" he growls, his voice low and gruff.

"Uh—"

"I was talking to my wife," Wrecker snaps, his eyes narrowed.

The man's face pales, and his mouth drops open. He glances down at you, and then back up at Wrecker, and then steps back, holding his hands up in surrender.

You press your hand to his chest, and the motion is so familiar and comforting that his shoulders relax. He looks down at you, and his breath catches in his throat. There's a hint of a smile on your face, and you look happy, and his stomach flutters.

"Of course, darling," you murmur, your fingers curling into his shirt, "we were just having a nice chat, weren't we, Bohme?"

Wrecker glares at the man.

"Yeah, sure, we were," the man replies, taking a step back.

Wrecker knows he should leave it alone, and let you take care of it, but the whiskey has loosened his tongue, and the man's wandering hands have left him feeling more than a little possessive.

"Don't get any ideas, pal. She's married," Wrecker tells him, his voice a deep growl.

He's being harsh, but he doesn't care. You've had to deal with this asshole enough for one night, and Wrecker's tired of watching him touch you, and talk to you, and look at you.

"Of course, I would never," Bohme says, shaking his head.

Wrecker's not convinced, but he's not going to start a fight over it. As much as he'd like to knock the guy's teeth in, he doesn't. For your sake. And for the mission's, though he's caring less and less about that as the night goes on.

"You alright, sweetheart?" Wrecker asks, his tone gentler, more concerned, as he leads you away.

"I'm fine, darling," you answer, giving his arm a squeeze.

He's not sure if he's imagining it, but he swears you sound a little breathy. Wrecker's not surprised. If his heart is racing from the adrenaline of pulling you away from Bohme, then yours probably is, too.

"Sorry I forgot your drink," he mutters as he picks up his pace, "that guy just rubs me the wrong way."

"It's okay," you say, looking up at him with a small smile. As the two of you get further and further away, you add, "I was kind of hoping you would."

He stops walking, his brow furrowing. "What?"

"Nothing, ma sareen."

"Wait, were you—" Wrecker glances over his shoulder, and the realization hits him. You'd known the whole time, and were counting on him to notice, and he had. He's not sure if he should be mad, or embarrassed, or something else entirely. "Oh."

You tilt your head, looking up at him with an amused expression. "Yeah, oh."

"That's why you wanted a drink, wasn't it?"

You bite your lip, a blush rising to your cheeks. "Well, I was thirsty."

"I—"

"I knew you wouldn't leave me alone with him."

"I wouldn't," he says, shaking his head, "not in a million years."

You look down, and his grip on you tightens. He doesn't mean to, but he's still shaken up, and your nearness is a comfort, even if it shouldn't be.

You lean into him, and he takes a step forward, pulling you close. His other hand comes up, his fingers brushing your cheek, and his eyes drop to your lips. He doesn't mean to touch you like this, but now that he has, he doesn't want to stop.

"I know," you say softly, your breath warm against his palm.

"Good," he murmurs.

Your hand slips down his chest, and Wrecker shudders. You're standing so close, and your face is only inches from his, and your eyes are shining. The words leave him before he stop them, his voice a low rumble.

"And I don't want anyone else touching you, either.”

The sound that leaves your mouth sends a rush of heat through his veins, and he has to fight the urge to kiss you.

"Good," you whisper, the word nearly lost to the music.

"Really?"

You nod, looking up at him through your lashes, and his heart skips a beat. "Mhm."

Wrecker lets out a shaky breath, his hand sliding down to cup your cheek. His lips are only inches from yours, and he's not sure if it's the alcohol or the dress, but he feels bold. Too bold.

"Then, is it okay if I—"

You press a finger to his lips, silencing him.

"Yes," you tell him, leaning closer, "but not here."

Wrecker freezes. Did he hear that right? Or is he imagining things?

"Why not?"

"Because," you start slowly, pressing a kiss to his cheek, "if you kiss me, I'm not going to want you to stop. And we're in the middle of a party, and the mission's not over."

Wrecker doesn't even realize his mouth has fallen open until you reach up and close it for him. Your touch is gentle, and his cheeks are warm, and the softness in your eyes makes him melt. 

Your hand drags down to adjust his lapel before you slip something into his pocket.

"Got his keycard," you whisper, patting his chest.

Wrecker doesn't care. You could've told him you'd stolen the man's starship, and it still wouldn't have mattered. Not with the way you're looking at him.

"You're really somethin', y'know that?" he asks, and if he sounds a little breathless, he doesn't care about that either.

"So are you, ma sareen," you answer, smiling softly, "so are you."

"Almost done," you say, your voice soft, but urgent.

Wrecker is leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, his gaze locked on you. He's careful not to touch anything in Bohme's office as you make your way around. His eyes are on the sway of your hips, and the soft curves of your body, and it's all he can do not to reach out and pull you against him.

You'd managed to slip away, and while Wrecker is a little disappointed the two of you had to leave, he knows the sooner you're finished, the sooner you can be alone.

"Anythin' you need help with, sweetheart?"

"No," you answer, "I got it."

You're bent over, looking for something, and the view gives him a perfect view of the curve of your ass. It's a bit distracting, and his mind is wandering. He's thinking about how nice it would be to hold you in his arms, and kiss you, and the things he would like to do if he had the opportunity.

The list is getting longer by the minute.

"Just need a few more seconds."

"I'm not in a rush," he answers with a shrug. His eyes are locked on your ass, and the way it moves as you work. You'd asked him to keep watch, and that's what he's doing, just keeping watch.

"Yes, you are," you say, a teasing lilt in your voice.

"Maybe," he admits, not bothering to deny it.

He doesn't care if it's a little pathetic, or desperate. He doesn't want to hide his feelings anymore. Not from you, and not from himself. He wants you to know, and to understand.

You glance over your shoulder, your eyes meeting his. You're wearing a smile that makes his stomach flutter.

"What are you thinking about?" you ask, a sultry note to your voice that makes his head spin. You walk over to the lamp on the wall and unscrew the glass. One of the bugs Tech had given you slips into the empty socket before you replace the bulb.

Wrecker blinks, his mind foggy.

"You."

You look surprised, and for a moment, he wonders if he's gone too far. But then, you smile, and he knows he's made the right choice. "Yeah? What about me?"

"Just how lucky I am," he tells you, the words sincere.

"Lucky?" you ask, raising a brow.

"Mhm."

You shake your head, letting out a soft laugh. "I think I'm the lucky one."

"I dunno. Pretty sure I'm the one who gets to take you home," Wrecker points out, a grin on his face.

Your eyes widen, and your lips part, and for a moment, you just stare at him, stunned. You let out a shaky breath, your face falling, and it's then that Wrecker realizes his mistake. You’re worth more to him than a quick roll in the sheets, and while he wants you, and the thought of it makes him hot and bothered, he's not interested in a one-night stand.

"I, uh, I didn't mean it like that," he stutters, his cheeks growing warm. “I—“

"Don't worry, darling, I know what you meant," you say, a hint of disappointment in your voice.

"It's not like—"

"We should go, Wrecker. The others are waiting."

"Right," Wrecker says quietly.

He doesn't like the tension in your shoulders, or the way you won't look at him. He's not sure what to say to fix this. All he knows is that the moment is over, and his heart is pounding.

When the two of you step out of the office, the door slides shut behind you, and he grabs your wrist. You don't stop, and you don't turn around. But you don't pull away, either.

"Hey, c'mon, just wait a sec, please."

You stop, letting out a quiet sigh. "It's okay, Wrecker, you don't have to—"

"But I want to."

You look up at him, your jaw set, and there's something in your eyes that tells him you don't believe him. It breaks his heart a little. Because it's true. He's been wanting you for a long time, and even if you don't feel the same, he's not going to let you leave without knowing it.

Wrecker takes a step toward you, and another, and another, until he's pressed against you. He lets go of your wrist, and his hand settles on your waist.

"Wrecker, what are you doing?"

"Trying not to be an idiot."

"You're not an—"

"Yeah, I am," he interrupts, a soft smile on his face. "I'm not good with words, and I don't always know the right thing to say. But I'm gonna try."

"Wrecker," you whisper, your eyes wide, "you don't have to."

"But I want to. I wanna tell you the truth."

"The truth?"

He nods.

"And what's that?"

"That I think you're the most beautiful person I've ever met," he tells you, his voice soft. "I think you're the bravest, and the kindest, and the smartest. I think you're the best, and I wish I was half the person you are."

"Wrecker, you're—"

He squeezes your waist gently. "Not done yet."

You smile up at him, a fondness in your eyes that makes his heart race, and you nod.

"And I know I don't deserve you, and I know you're probably just being nice, and that maybe, I'm reading into this too much, but I don't think so."

You look like you want to interrupt him again, but you don't. He's grateful.

"I think there's something here. Between us,” he says. “And I've never been good at keeping my feelings to myself. I think about you all the time, and I can't help it.”

"Wrecker, are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"I dunno.” He shrugs. “Maybe. Probably."

You shake your head, laughing. "Wrecker, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're trying to tell me you have feelings for me."

"Well, that's because I do."

"What?" you ask, sounding almost as surprised as he felt earlier.

"Have feelings for you. I have a lot of 'em," he tells you, a smile on his face. It feels good to finally admit it. "I've had them for a while."

"How long?"

"Pretty much since I met you."

"Really?"

He nods. "Really."

"That's...a long time," you murmur.

"Mhm. So, that's the truth," Wrecker says. "And if you don't feel the same, or if I'm wrong, or if I'm misreading things, then just tell me, and I'll never bring it up again."

"I don't think I could," you answer, "not now, after all that."

"So, then, maybe—"

"Wrecker," you whisper, his tie and pulling him closer. Your lips brush his, and he has to fight the urge to groan. "I have a lot of feelings, too. I just didn't know you did."

"Yeah?" he asks, his voice hoarse.

"Yeah," you breathe, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

He doesn't bother fighting the groan this time. He can't. Not when you're this close. Not when he can feel your breath against his skin. Not when your lips are ghosting over his, and the scent of your perfume is filling his nose, and the warmth of your body is pressed against him.

"Then, does this mean—"

"You can kiss me," you murmur.

Wrecker doesn't hesitate.

His mouth crashes against yours, his hands slipping down to your hips and pulling you against him. You let out a whimper, and it's all he can do not to moan.

He doesn't want to push too far, or scare you away, so he holds back. He kisses you with restraint, with tenderness, with love. Your lips are soft, and pliant, and your fingers tighten in his shirt as he deepens the kiss. It's even better than he imagined, and he's spent hours imagining it.

He doesn't care that anyone could see you. He doesn't care about the mission, or the bugs, or the fact that the others are waiting for you. He only cares about you, and the way you feel in his arms.

"Wrecker," you mumble, breaking the kiss.

"Hm?"

"We should go," you remind him, your voice soft.

"Right," he says, "just one more."

"One more," you agree.

Your lips are on his again, and it's just as good as the first time. Wrecker doesn't want to stop, and he doesn't, not until his comm buzzes, and his brother's voice rings out in his ear.

"Wrecker, status report. We need an update."

Wrecker groans, pulling away from you. "Tech, not a good time."

"Now is precisely the time," his brother replies, sounding exasperated. "What is the status of the mission?"

Wrecker glances at you, and you look back up at him with a soft smile on your swollen lips. You reach up, cupping his cheek, and the feeling is so comforting and sweet that his chest aches.

"It's good," Wrecker answers, smiling. "The mission is going really good."

"Good?" he hears Hunter repeat. He's not sure if it's confusion or disbelief in his voice. Maybe a little bit of both.

"Great," he corrects, leaning down to kiss you again. "Really, really great."

"Oh," Tech mutters, and Wrecker can hear the gears turning in his head. "I…did not expect that."

Wrecker smiles down at you. "Yeah, well, neither did I."

“I see.” There's a pause, and the sound of shuffling, some muffled voices, and then Tech adds, "In that case, we will let you get back to your, ah, mission."

"Thanks, Tech."

"Mhm," his brother hums, sounding a little awkward. "You’re welcome. We'll see you both when you return.”

The comm clicks off, and Wrecker sighs. "Guess we should get back to the ship."

"Yeah, we probably should," you agree, though neither of you move. "Or..."

He perks up. "Or?"

"Or, we could go back to the hotel," you suggest, a playful note in your voice. "We did pay for the night, after all. It would be a shame to waste it."

"A real shame," he nods, his voice grave.

"Besides," you add, your hand sliding down his chest, "we could use the extra time to...discuss the details of the mission. Make sure we're on the same page, and everything."

Wrecker bites back a moan. The feeling of your hand on his chest, and the sound of your voice, and the suggestion in your words, and the glint in your eyes. It's enough to make his knees weak.

"What do you think, ma sareen?"

"I think," he murmurs, kissing your neck, "that's the best idea I've ever heard."

The two of you barely make it through the door.

As soon as it slides shut behind you, Wrecker’s lips are on yours. His hands haven’t left your hips since you entered the elevator. He guides you backwards, his hands roaming across your back and sides. His teeth scrape against your bottom lip, and the sound you make sends a rush of heat straight to his cock.

Your back hits the wall next to the door, and Wrecker lifts you up, wedging a thigh between your legs. The dress is riding up, and his hand slips under it, and he's never been more grateful for Tech's insistence on getting a hotel room.

His tongue slides across the roof of your mouth, and he swallows the gasp that leaves your lips. Your nails dig into his shoulders, and you roll your hips, grinding against his thigh. The sound that leaves his mouth is embarrassingly needy as his hand moves higher, squeezing the soft flesh. Your knife has been safely returned to its holster, and his fingers run along the strap.

He wants to take his time with you, to make sure you know how he feels, but he can't stop touching you. You’re so soft, and he's been wanting to do this for so long, and the dress makes it so easy to find new places to explore.

"Wrecker," you whimper, arching against him.

He nips at your neck, and the soft whine that escapes your throat makes his knees weak. His hand squeezes the back of your leg, and his mouth travels lower, his teeth dragging across your collarbone.

"You look so fuckin' good in this," he tells you, his lips brushing the swell of your breasts. "Drivin' me crazy."

"Yeah?" you ask, reaching up to loosen his tie.

"Yeah," he grunts. He leans down, pressing his mouth to the tops of your breasts. You make a soft noise, and he smiles, his hand slipping up your thigh and pushing the hem of the dress higher. "Been thinkin' about taking it off all night.”

"Well, why don't you, then?"

Wrecker pulls away, and you look up at him, your eyes half-lidded and dark. Your cheeks are flushed, and your chest is rising and falling, and you look so fucking gorgeous, he can't stand it.

He doesn't respond. His lips find yours again, and he pushes your skirt up higher, his hands bunching the smooth fabric. He tries his best to be gentle, but it's hard. The thought of ripping the dress from your body, tearing it off and tossing it to the side is appealing, but he won't. It's not his to ruin, and he doesn't want to make you mad.

"This okay?" he asks, breaking the kiss.

"Yeah," you answer, nodding. Your hands join his, and together you pull the dress over your head, and toss it aside.

He nearly drops you.

He doesn't, but it's a close thing.

"You—oh, fuck," he groans, his head falling to the crook of your neck, "you weren't wearin' anythin' underneath?"

You let out a breathless laugh, and the feeling of it makes his head spin.

"Surprised?"

"Uh, yeah."

He's not sure what to say, or what to do.

The only thing he can think about is the way your bare pussy is pressed against his thigh. Your nails drag across his scalp, and he shudders. He’s pretty sure his brain is short-circuiting, because all he can do is stare at you.

Your makeup is messy, your headpiece a little crooked, and your chest is rising and falling in short, shallow breaths, and you're looking up at him with a smirk that makes him want to drop to his knees and worship you.

"What's wrong?" you ask, tilting his chin up. "You can't talk now?"

Wrecker grunts. You're teasing him, and he can't even pretend he doesn't like it. He likes it too much.

"You're not playin' fair," he complains, his voice gruff.

"No?"

"Nope."

"Well, neither are you," you say, rolling your hips. The motion drags your pussy across his thigh, and the dampness on his skin has him groaning. You lean forward, your mouth next to his ear. "So, what are you gonna do about it?"

He growls, and you gasp as his hands slide down, grabbing your ass. He hoists you up, putting your chest level with his face.

"Gonna show you," he rasps, "just how much you drive me crazy."

He's never seen anything hotter than the way you're looking at him right now, and he's not sure he ever will. He doesn’t want to close his eyes, doesn’t want to blink, but he can’t help it when his tongue darts out and his lips close around one of your nipples.

The soft sound that escapes your mouth makes his cock throb, and he presses your back against the wall, holding you up with ease with one hand as the other comes up to fondle your other breast. His tongue is hot and insistent against your skin, and your breath catches in your throat when he drags his teeth across the sensitive flesh.

"Fuck," you hiss, arching into him.

"Told ya you look good," he mumbles. He nips at the swell of your breast, and a moan escapes your lips. "Good enough to eat."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm," he hums. "Can I?"

"Please."

You let out a squeak as he hikes you up further, his lips ghosting over your ribs, and then your sternum, and then the soft swell of your stomach. Your thighs are draped over his shoulders, and his hands are on the backs of your legs, holding them up and apart, and the sight of you above him is almost too much.

"You smell so fuckin' good," he growls, burying his face between your thighs.

You're already wet, and his nose bumps against your clit as he presses his mouth to your pussy. You're so warm, and soft, and when his tongue slides against you, you moan, the sound desperate and needy.

"Shit, Wrecker," you gasp, your hands coming down to grab his head.

"Just relax," he tells you, his tone a little patronizing. "I gotcha, sweetheart."

He dives in, his mouth eager and unrelenting. He licks and sucks and nips at the sensitive skin, and when his tongue pushes inside, you arch your back, rolling your hips. Your thighs squeeze around his head, and the noises that are leaving your lips are sending sparks down his spine.

He does it again, and again, and again, trying to coax more of those sounds from your mouth. He wants to see what he can get you to do, wants to know what makes you cry out, and moan, and scream.

You're trembling above him, and your pussy is so wet, he can feel it running down his chin.  

"Oh, fuck," you curse, and he can't help but grin.

Your hips buck against his face, and he grabs your ass, squeezing the soft flesh. His fingers sink into the plush skin, and he spreads you apart, his tongue circling your clit. You shudder, and your thighs tighten around his head. He can tell you're getting close, and he can't wait to feel you fall apart, to see your face twist in pleasure, and hear his name on your lips.

He's never been good at this. He's always felt a little out of his depth, a little awkward, a little clumsy. But he's learning. He's watching your reactions, listening to the sounds you make, feeling the way your body responds. And he's paying attention, because he wants to be the only person who can make you feel like this.

He knows it's possessive. He knows it's a lot, especially since the two of you haven't talked about what this means. But he doesn't care. Not right now. He just wants you, and he's willing to do whatever it takes to make sure that's what happens.

You're writhing above him, and he can feel the muscles in your thighs tensing as his lips close around your clit. He makes sure he's got a good grip on you with one hand before sliding the other in between your thighs, and he pushes one finger inside you, and then another.

"Wrecker!"

He's pretty sure that's the hottest thing he's ever heard.

He doubles his efforts, his fingers pushing deeper and deeper. He's not even sure if he's hitting the right spot, but from the way you're writhing, and moaning, and cursing, it seems like he's doing something right. Your walls are squeezing his fingers, and he curls them, trying to find the spot that will make you scream.

You do.

Your whole body tenses, your thighs clamping hard around his head, and you throw your head back, crying out. He watches in awe, his eyes wide, and his mouth slack as you come apart above him. He can feel it, can feel your walls tightening, and the rush of heat as you climax, and he can’t resist the urge to press a kiss to the soft, swollen flesh.

"Wrecker," you choke out, your voice cracking, and he knows he's never going to get enough of this. 

He keeps his fingers buried inside of you as he pulls away from the wall. You cling to him, and he carries you over to the bed, lowering you onto the mattress. His fingers slip out of you, and he watches in fascination as you clench around nothing, your body still trembling.

"Fuck," he groans, dropping to his knees and burying his head between your legs again.

You let out a noise of surprise, and his hands push your thighs open, keeping them spread wide.

"You did so good, sweetheart," he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your swollen lips. He licks you clean, his tongue swiping through your folds. You squirm, and his grip on you tightens. "Gonna make you come again."

"Oh," you whimper, letting out a shaky breath.

"Just breathe, cyar'ika," he tells you, his lips trailing up your inner thigh. He can't get enough of the taste of you, or the way your body is reacting. You're still shaking, and the knowledge that it's because of him is making him delirious. He's pretty sure this is the best night of his life.

"I'm gonna make you feel good," he says, his voice soft and low. "I promise."

"You always make me feel good, Wrecker," you whisper.

"Yeah?"

"Mhm," you hum, nodding. "Always."

Wrecker grins and leans back, shoving his suit jacket off his shoulders. He's not sure where you want him, or how far you want to take things, but he's happy to follow your lead. He’s happy to do this all night, every night, for the rest of his life, if you asked.

He unbuttons the cuffs of his shirt and rolls up the sleeves, his eyes never leaving you. You're looking up at him, your cheeks flushed, your chest rising and falling. He can't believe he gets to see you like this, so vulnerable and trusting.

"What is it?" you ask with a tilt of your head. The motion moves your lekku, and Wrecker's gaze follows. He's fascinated by the way they shift, and sway, and twitch. He wonders what they feel like, if you’ll let him touch them, if they're as sensitive as he's heard.

"Nothin'," he answers, shrugging.

"Liar."

"No, really," he says. Then, a grin spreads across his face, and he can't help himself, "I just like lookin' at ya."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm."

"What about me do you like looking at, ma sareen?"

"Everything," he tells you, and the sincerity in his voice seems to catch you off guard. "Everythin' about you. You're gorgeous, and I'm lucky as hell."

"Wrecker, you're not just saying that, are you?"

"Never," he promises, "not when it comes to you."

You bite your lip, and the way your teeth sink into the plump flesh sends a rush of heat through him.

"You're too good to me," you mumble, a fondness in your eyes that makes his heart swell.

"Could never be too good to you," he replies quickly, shaking his head. He pushes his sleeves up to his elbows and leans back down, kissing the curve of your stomach.

"Wrecker," you sigh, your hands settling on his shoulders, "you're such a gentleman."

"A gentleman?" He laughs, his forehead resting against your hip.

"Mhm," you hum.

He glances up at you, his brows raised. "Sweetheart, I've had my face between your legs for the past fifteen minutes, and you're tellin' me I'm a gentleman?"

"Maybe I like a man who knows how to treat me," you suggest.

"Yeah?"

"Mhm."

Wrecker chuckles, and then he kisses the top of your mound, and then the crease of your thigh, and then your knee. You make a soft noise, and his eyes flick back to your face.

"So, do you still want me to keep treatin' you?" he asks, and if the words come out a little nervous, he can't help it.

"Of course," you say, a hint of surprise in your voice, as if you can't believe he would think otherwise. You smile sweetly, and the weight in his chest lifts. "I want everything with you, Wrecker. Always."

"Good," he sighs, the tension leaving his body. "Because I want everythin', too."

Your head falls back against the pillows, your hands slipping from his shoulders to his head. You pull him closer, and he's more than happy to follow your lead.

"Then, come on, darling," you murmur, lifting your hips and spreading your legs wider, "give me everything."

Wrecker swallows thickly.

"Yes, ma'am."

His mouth is on you again, and you don't hesitate to let him know how good he's doing. You're not shy, and you're not quiet, and you're not afraid to take what you want.

And, gods, does Wrecker like that.

He's still a little in awe, a little dumbstruck by the fact that this is happening, and that it's not just some fantasy he's making up in his head. This is real, and you're here, and you're enjoying yourself, and the sound of your voice, the way you move, the softness of your body is so fucking overwhelming, it's making him delirious.

He wants to do this every night, for the rest of his life.

Your scent fills his nose, and your taste coats his tongue, and the slick, wet noises his mouth makes as he eats you out are driving him crazy. You're shaking beneath him, and your legs are draped over his shoulders, and your nails are scraping against his scalp. Your heels dig into his back, and his hands move down, holding you steady. He's not stopping until you tell him to, and from the way you're moaning, he doesn't think that's going to be anytime soon.

"You're so fucking hot," he groans, his teeth scraping against your folds. "Gonna make you come again. Gonna get you nice and ready for me."

You whimper, and he knows he's made the right choice.

"Sound good?" he asks, voice muffled by your cunt.

"Mhm," you nod.

"Yeah?"

"Yes," you moan, "yes, please, please, I want you to fuck me."

"Oh, I'm gonna," he growls, his lips brushing against your clit, "but first, I'm gonna make you scream."

He's not sure where he found the confidence, but he doesn't care. He doesn't even notice. He's too busy trying to get you to come for him again. He's licking, and sucking, and kissing, and nibbling, and it's only when you're begging him to fuck you that he finally pulls away for air.

"Not yet," he says, pressing a kiss to the crease of your thigh.

"Please," you whimper, "please, Wrecker, I need it. Need you."

He chuckles, his stubble scratching against the inside of your thigh. "I know, sweetheart, I know. Not yet, though. Just a little more."

He slips two fingers inside you, curling them, and your whole body jolts.

"Wrecker, please, I'm so fucking wet, just—"

"I know," he grins, pumping his fingers in and out of you. Your pussy is soaked, and the sound of him fingering you is obscene. It makes him want to shove his cock into you, to feel how tight and warm you are. "Gettin' you nice and wet for me."

"Don't—don't tease me," you huff, and Wrecker laughs, kissing your clit.

"I'm not," he insists. "Just tryin' to make sure you're ready."

"Ready?"

"Mhm." He pushes his fingers deeper, and he can feel the way your walls are already fluttering, the way your muscles are twitching. You're close, and he can't wait to see what you look like when you fall apart. "Wanna make sure you can take me."

"I can," you assure him, "please, I can."

"I'm gonna make you come again," he says, his voice soft. "And then, when you're all nice and relaxed, and you're beggin' for my cock, that's when I'm gonna fuck you."

"I'm begging now," you whine.

"I know, baby," he murmurs, his tongue pressing flat against your clit. "Be patient. It'll be worth it, I promise."

"Okay," you say, and the sound comes out strangled, like it's hard for you to talk. The way your voice breaks, and your chest rises and falls has him grinning, and he leans down again, his mouth eager and insistent.

"Fuck," you gasp, "oh, fuck, Wrecker, I'm—I'm gonna—"

"Go ahead," he encourages, his voice husky, "lemme see.”

Your head falls back, your whole body trembling as you come for the second time that night. It's even more beautiful than the first, and the way you pull his fingers deeper has him moaning against you. He doesn't stop until you're pushing him away, and even then, he doesn't go far.

Wrecker pulls back, slowly, his eyes on yours. You're breathing heavily, and your cheeks are flushed. Somewhere along the way the headpiece you were wearing had come loose, and it's resting on the pillow next to you. Your eyes are hooded, a dazed look on your face, and you look absolutely gorgeous.

"That was so fucking hot," he tells you, leaning down to press a kiss to your inner thigh.

"Wrecker, that was..." you trail off, letting out a quiet sigh. "I've never come twice that fast before."

"Really?"

You shake your head, laughing breathlessly. "Nope."

"So, I guess I did a good job?"

"Good?" you repeat, looking almost offended. "Darling, it was incredible."

He grins wide and presses a kiss to your stomach. You cup his cheek, and your thumb brushes his lip. It's damp with your arousal, and the realization sends a wave of heat through him.

"I'm just glad I made you feel good," he says.

"Trust me, you did," you assure him, and the earnestness in your voice has his cheeks flushing.

"Glad to hear it," he murmurs. He nips at the underside of your breast, and you whimper.

"Wrecker," you mumble.

"Mhm?"

"Come here."

"Why?"

"Because," you answer, sitting up and grabbing his tie, "I want to kiss you."

He lets out a laugh. "Is that all?"

"No," you say, and the honesty in your tone makes him shiver. You tug on the tie, pulling him towards you until your lips meet in a messy kiss. He's careful not to put his weight on you, keeping most of it on his forearms as he presses closer. Your tongue is hot and insistent against his, and when your teeth scrape his bottom lip, a groan escapes his throat.

"Please," you mumble against his lips. "Please, Wrecker, fuck me."

“Was hoping you’d say that,” he grunts, a smirk on his face.

He kisses you again, and it's rough and needy and a little clumsy. Your hands are roaming across his back, and when they tug on his shirt, he reaches around, pulling the hem out of his pants and working the buttons open.

He doesn't have the patience to undo them all, so he tears the shirt and tie off and tosses them aside. He breathes a sigh of relief at finally being free from the restrictive fabric, only to suck in a sharp breath as your nails scrape his sides. The sensation sends a shiver through him, and he buries his head in the crook of your neck, panting.

You don't let up, your hands exploring the planes and divots of his bare chest. His skin is on fire, and his muscles are flexing beneath your touch. Your mouth finds his neck as your fingers move to undo his belt, and his whole body jolts.

You hum, pleased, and Wrecker knows he's in trouble.

Your teeth sink into his shoulder, and your tongue swipes over the marks, and when you press a kiss to his pulse point, he has to remind himself not to get carried away. He's not even inside you yet, and he's already on the verge of losing control.

"Wrecker, I'm tired of waiting," you whine, your hand sliding under his pants and squeezing his ass. "I need you."

"Shit," he curses, his cock twitching in his boxers. "I need you, too."

"Then, what are you waiting for?"

"Nothin'," he says, sitting up. "Absolutely nothin'."

He gets to his feet, pulling off his shoes and socks faster than he's ever undressed in his life. He shoves his pants and boxers down, and his cock springs free. You let out a quiet noise, and he feels a surge of pride as your eyes move down his body, and widen.

"Oh, Wrecker," you breathe, and the awe in your voice is so fucking satisfying. "You're..."

"Yeah?"

"It's so big," you murmur.

He feels the tips of his ears burn. He knows he's big. He's bigger than most, and he's always been worried about scaring people off.

"Do you think you can handle it?"

"Yeah," you say quickly, nodding.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

He's not convinced. "It's okay if you can't, y'know."

"I know, Wrecker," you answer, sounding amused. "I can handle it."

"I just don't want to hurt you."

"I know. And it's sweet. But if you don't come here and fuck me right now, I'm going to go crazy."

"Well, we can't have that," he mutters, a smile playing on his lips.

He climbs back onto the bed, and you move to meet him halfway, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you kneel together. Your chest presses against his, and you're so warm and soft, and he feels like he's going to melt.

He kisses the tip of your lek, and you let out a squeak, and the sound is so cute, he has to kiss the other one, too. He wants to kiss every part of you, and he plans to, someday. Right now, though, he's got something more important to take care of.

His mouth finds yours, and he cups the back of your neck, holding you still. You're pressed together, skin to skin, and he can feel the heat radiating from your body. Your hands are moving over his shoulders, down his chest, across his stomach, and when your fingers wrap around his cock, his hips buck.

"Fuck," he groans.

You give him a slow, languid stroke, and his eyes nearly roll back.

"You're beautiful," you whisper, your hand moving up and down, spreading precum along his length. You press a kiss to his shoulder, and then his collarbone, and his jaw, and his chin, and his mouth.

"I—ah," he grunts, his forehead falling to rest on yours, "You're kiddin', right?"

"Why would I be kidding?"

"You've got a lot more goin' for ya than me," he replies, his cheeks flushing. "A hell of a lot more."

"Nonsense," you say, shaking your head. Your grip tightens, and his breath catches in his throat. "You're the most beautiful man I've ever seen, and the things I want to do to you are..."

"Are what?"

"I'd rather show you," you admit, and there's something in your voice that makes his heart skip a beat.

"Well, go ahead, then," he encourages, giving you a toothy grin. "Show me."

Wrecker lets out a surprised yelp when you grab his shoulders and push him back, his back hitting the mattress. He laughs, and then you're on top of him, and his laughter dies, his breath coming out in short, shallow gasps.

You're straddling his waist, and the sight of your naked body above him is the most incredible thing he's ever seen. His hands move on their own, running across your thighs, your hips, and your ribs.

"This is a good look for you," you say, smirking.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Mhm."

You lean down and kiss him, and he can't help the way his hands wander, one moving up to squeeze your ass, and the other finding your breast. He can't get enough of you, and he doesn't know if he ever will. He squeezes, and rolls, and fondles, and when his thumb brushes your nipple, you break the kiss with a soft moan. You pull away, and he chases after you, his lips pressing against yours.

"Wrecker, stop," you giggle, swatting his hand away.

"I can't help it," he tells you, leaning up and pressing a kiss to your neck. "You're too kriffin' sexy."

"I need you inside me," you say, pushing his shoulders back. "And I'm not going to be able to get there if you keep distracting me."

"Alright," he sighs, falling back against the mattress. "Go ahead, I'll be patient."

"Good boy."

His eyes go wide, and his cock throbs at the words. He knows he likes being praised, and he's not ashamed to admit that, but the way it makes him react is almost embarrassing.

"Oh," you grin, and the mischief in your eyes has his heart racing. "You like that?"

"Yeah," he nods, his cheeks flushing.

"What else do you like?" you ask, leaning forward and grinding against him.

He swallows thickly. "Um."

"Wrecker," you say softly, and his eyes dart up to yours.

"I—" he stammers, his gaze flicking back down to your cunt. "I, uh—you know, I've never really had anyone ask me that before."

"Well, consider this the first time," you tell him, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Tell me."

"Uh."

"Come on," you urge, kissing the other side, "tell me what you like."

"I like makin' you feel good," he blurts out. "I like it rough, I like bein' told what to do. I like knowin' I'm doin' a good job. And I like you, so—so just...tell me how you feel, or somethin', and I'll be happy."

"I can work with that."

You sit up, and the motion brings your pussy closer to his cock. He watches with wide eyes as you raise yourself up and guide his cock between your folds, the tip brushing against your entrance. His hips twitch, and his hands come up to grip your waist, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your skin.

"Kriff, you're gorgeous," he breathes, his eyes on the place where his cock is just barely penetrating you. "You're amazing."

"So are you," you reply.

He's not sure he agrees, but he doesn't have time to argue, because you're sinking down onto him, and his brain stops working.

You let out a quiet sigh, and Wrecker tries his best to keep his composure, but the wet, hot, tightness is too much. His hands tighten, his fingers digging into your sides before he realizes what he's doing. He relaxes his grip, his palms sliding across your skin, his eyes still on where your bodies are joined.

"Shit, sweetheart, I'm sorry, I just—"

"Don't apologize," you interrupt, your hips shifting, and his cock pushes a little deeper.

"I can't help it," he huffs, "I don't wanna hurt you."

"You're not hurting me," you promise, one hand settling on his chest. The other takes his hand, and you lift it up to your mouth, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. "I'll tell you if you are, alright? So, don't worry. Just relax."

"Okay," he nods, taking a deep breath. "I can do that."

"Good boy," you praise, and Wrecker feels a wave of heat crash through him.

Your hips shift, and you sink down another inch. He lets out a shaky breath, his fingers curling into a fist. Your mouth is hot and insistent against his knuckles, your tongue swiping over the sensitive skin. You kiss his fingertips, and then his palm, and then the back of his hand. You nip at the fleshy part beneath his thumb, and he hisses, the sensation sending sparks up his arm.

"Fuck," he groans, and his hips buck, and his cock slides a little further inside.

"You're so big," you murmur, your hand sliding up his arm and over his chest. Your nails scrape his skin, and he trembles. "So fucking big, Wrecker."

"Yeah?"

You nod, your mouth open, and your cheeks flushed. Your eyes are a little glassy, and your breathing is shallow, and he can't believe how lucky he is to be here, with you, in this moment.

"I'm gonna—gonna make you feel good," he promises, and you laugh, your walls fluttering around him.

"Oh, darling," you sigh, lifting your hips and sinking back down, taking him a little deeper, "you already are."

His eyes squeeze shut, and his grip on you tightens. He tries to remember to breathe, and not to buck his hips, and not to pull you down and bury himself to the hilt. You're still kissing his hand, and the softness of your lips has him melting, his shoulders falling back against the bed.

"Look at me, ma sareen," you murmur.

Wrecker does.

The sight that greets him nearly sends him over the edge. You're hovering above him, his cock buried inside you, your lekku dangling in the space between your bodies. The lights in the room are dim, but the glow is bright enough to highlight the curve of your breasts, the swell of your hips, and the way your skin seems to shimmer.

You're breathtaking.

"You're amazin'," he says again, because he doesn't have anything better to say.

"You're so sweet," you chuckle, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I love that about you."

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

You kiss him again, and his mouth opens under yours. He groans when you bite his bottom lip, his hands moving to your hips, guiding your movements. You roll your hips, and his cock slips out of you, before sliding back in. You do it again, and again, and again, until the tip of his cock nudges against the end of your channel.

"Oh, shit," you gasp, sitting up, and bracing your hands against his stomach. "Oh, gods, Wrecker, you're—you're so fucking deep."

"Does it feel good?"

"So fucking good," you whimper.

He sits up and wraps his arms around you, holding you close. He can feel the tips of your lekku resting on his chest, and they're even softer than he imagined. He presses a kiss to the base of one, and then the other, and then he's kissing your neck, his stubble scratching against your skin.

"Ah," you sigh, your hips rocking. "Wrecker, fuck, it feels so good."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm."

"Good," he growls, and then he grabs your ass and pulls you down onto his cock.

You let out a surprised cry, and then you're moving faster, grinding down on his length. He thrusts up, his hips meeting yours. Your hands are everywhere, roaming across his back, his shoulders, and his chest. You're not shy about it, and you don't hold back. You squeeze, and stroke, and touch every part of him, and it's making him dizzy.

"Fuck, you feel so good," you moan, and Wrecker grunts, his teeth scraping the base of your lekku. "So fucking good, Wrecker."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm," you hum, and then you're pulling away, and his chest aches at the loss. You push him back against the pillows, and he stares up at you, his lips parted as you ride him, bouncing up and down. Your hands are planted on his chest, and your nails are digging into his skin.

He watches in awe as you take him, his cock disappearing between your legs. No one's ever taken him like this, no one's ever been able to handle him the way you are. You're not afraid, and you're not shy, and you're not afraid to get what you want.

"You're kriffin' perfect," he says, and then he's reaching for you, his hands cupping your face.

Wrecker kisses you, and the sound that leaves your throat is so needy, and desperate, that he can't help but thrust up into you, harder and faster. His tongue slides into your mouth, and you suck on it, drawing a groan from his chest. He's trying to hold on, to last as long as he can, but it's not easy. Not when you're riding him like this, and making him feel like this.

You pull away with a gasp and bury your face in his neck, and the warmth of your breath makes him shiver. He can't see your face, but he can feel the way you're shaking, can hear the quiet noises you're making.

"You like that?" he asks, his voice rough.

"So much," you whine.

"Gonna come for me?"

"Yes, please, yes," you whimper.

"Gonna scream for me?"

"Oh, Wrecker," you moan, your teeth sinking into his shoulder, and the pain goes straight to his cock. "Wrecker, you're making me—I'm so close, please, harder."

He doesn't hesitate to follow your orders.

He lifts his legs, spreading them wider, and you slide a little further down his length. His hips snap up, and your whole body jolts. The first slap of skin against skin has him groaning, and the second has him cursing, and by the time his balls are slapping against your ass, you're begging him not to stop.

He's not sure he could, even if he wanted to. He thrusts again, and again, his pace building. Your cunt is dripping, the wetness seeping from your entrance, and the lewd squelching sound fills the room.

His hand cups the back of your head, holding you close. You nuzzle against his shoulder, your lips pressed to his collarbone, and the sensation is so fucking intimate, so sweet, he's not sure how much longer he's going to be able to hold out.

"Sweetheart," he grunts, and he doesn't have the words to continue, doesn't know how to tell you he's going to come, doesn't want this to end.

"You're so good," you whisper, and he can feel his balls tightening, "so fucking good, Wrecker."

"Can I—I'm gonna come," he warns.

"Oh, fuck, me, too."

"Where—where do you want me?"

"Inside," you whine, and Wrecker has to grit his teeth to keep from coming on the spot. "Wrecker, inside, please, fill me up, I want it, want you."

"Shit," he groans, "fuck, fuck, sweetheart, you're—oh, shit, I'm—"

Your body goes stiff, your walls fluttering around his cock, and his mouth falls open. He's not prepared for the feeling of your pussy gripping his length, or the sound of your breathy moans. He's not prepared for the way your thighs tremble, or the way your back arches, or the way his name spills from your lips.

He's not prepared for the orgasm that crashes over him, the heat and the pleasure that rushes through his veins, and the way his whole body shudders as he comes inside you.

He can't remember the last time he came this hard, the last time he lost control like this. The feeling of your cunt around him is too much, and his head falls back, his eyes squeezing shut. The only thing that keeps him tethered to reality is the sound of your voice in his ear, a string of words in a language he doesn’t understand falling from your lips.

Wrecker holds you, his arms wrapping around you, and his hips buck, his cock twitching. He can't get enough, can't stop coming, can't stop fucking up into you. Your moans are soft, and gentle, and it's not until his own climax has subsided that he realizes you’re slumped against him, your breathing heavy, your face pressed to his neck.

"Shit, sorry, cyar'ika," he mutters as he realizes his grip has tightened. He moves to pull his hands away, but you reach out, taking his wrists and placing his hands back on your waist.

"No," you whimper, "please."

"Sweetheart, I'm hurtin' you."

"Just a little longer," you tell him, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the base of his throat.

He's not sure why, but the request brings tears to his eyes. You want him. You want him to hold you, and touch you, and the realization makes his heart swell.

"Alright," he agrees, and you sigh and nestle closer.

He lays there, his softening cock still buried inside you, his arms around you, and his fingers find their way to your lekku. He strokes them gently, and you shiver, your body trembling.

"Is this okay?" he asks.

"Yes," you answer, your voice barely above a whisper. "It feels nice."

"Good," he says, smiling. "I like touchin' you."

"I can tell," you laugh and press a kiss to his chest.

He continues, his fingertips tracing a path down the side of one, and then the other. He doesn't know how much time passes. He's lost in the feeling of you, in the warmth of your body, in the softness of your skin. He doesn't even realize his eyes are closed until he hears you laughing.

"What?" Wrecker asks, opening his eyes and looking down at you.

"Are you asleep?"

"No," he answers, shaking his head, though the blush on his face gives him away. "I was just restin' my eyes."

"You sure?" you ask, and there's a teasing tone in your voice.

"I'm sure," he says, and then you're pulling away. His arms drop, and his cock slips out of your cunt, and his mouth falls open. Your combined release is leaking out of you, dripping down his cock and onto his stomach.

"Wow," he breathes.

"Is it a bad 'wow' or a good 'wow'?" you ask, your teeth sinking into your lower lip.

"The good kind," he answers, his eyes roaming over your body before returning to your face. His brows furrow. "Can I kiss you?"

"Wrecker, you don't have to ask," you tell him.

"Well, um," he starts, his cheeks turning pink. "It's just, I'm not really good at this part."

"What part?"

"The after part," he tells you. "I mean, it's always been, you know, in the dark, or quick, and I don't know how you feel about kissing and cuddlin' after, and I just...I dunno, I just like you, and I want to do it right."

"Oh, Wrecker," you laugh, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I like kissing and cuddling."

"You do?"

"I do," you nod, a smile on your face. "There's nothing more I'd rather do than kiss you, and cuddle with you, and hold you, and fall asleep with you. That is, if you'll have me."

"Oh.” He blinks. "Yeah, um, I'd like that a lot."

"Then, by all means, darling," you tell him, "kiss me."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm," you nod, grinning. "Please."

Wrecker leans forward, his hand cupping your cheek, and he presses his lips to yours. He licks into your mouth, his tongue sliding against yours, and the soft moan that leaves your lips makes his heart soar.

"You're incredible," he breathes, and the smile on your face is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

"You are too," you murmur, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "I hope that was everything you were hoping for."

"It was even better," he says, his hand moving down and resting on your hip. "Can we do it again?"

"Right now?" you ask, and he can't help but laugh.

"I was thinkin' tomorrow, maybe," he tells you, his thumb stroking your skin. "I'm gonna be honest, sweetheart, I don't think I'm gonna be able to go again for a while."

"Me either," you reply, laughing.

"But," he starts, his grip on your waist tightening, "when I am, you want to?”

"Of course," you tell him, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his neck. "I have some other ideas I'd like to run by you, if you're interested."

"I'm very interested." He grins. "Lets get cleaned up, and then you can tell me all about ‘em.”

"Mm," you whine, burying your face in the crook of his neck. “But I don’t want to move.”

“Not a problem,” he replies, and before you can say anything, he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you against him. You squeal, your legs wrapping around his waist, and he slides off the bed, holding you against him.

"Wrecker, put me down," you giggle.

"You're the one who didn't want to move," he reminds you.

"Put me down," you say, but your voice is full of laughter, and you’re smiling.

"No," he teases, shaking his head.

"Wrecker," you sigh, rolling your eyes.

"Sweetheart," he replies, mimicking your tone. “I’m a gentleman, remember? And a gentleman always carries his girl to the shower."

"In that case," you murmur, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face against his throat, "thank you, sir."

He walks toward the refresher, his arm wrapped tightly around your waist, and his chest is bursting with pride. You're smiling, and laughing, and holding onto him, and it feels like a dream.

Wrecker sits you on the edge of the counter, and you wince, a soft hiss leaving your lips.

"You okay?"

"Just a little sore," you admit.

"Shit," he curses. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No, no," you shake your head, your hand finding his wrist and squeezing. "It's a good sore, I promise. You were wonderful."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Mhm," you nod, biting your lip. "Best I've ever had."

He laughs. "That can't be true."

"Well, it is," you tell him, and he can see the sincerity in your eyes. "I mean, I've never felt anything like it."

He smiles, leaning down and pressing his forehead against yours. You reach up, your fingertips brushing against his cheek, and he turns, kissing the palm of your hand.

"You're not just sayin' that, are ya?" he asks.

"Why would I?"

"I dunno," he admits.

"Wrecker," you sigh, your thumb brushing across his lower lip, "it's been a long time since I've felt anything for anyone. The truth is, I've had a crush on you for months. You're sweet, and kind, and funny, and the things you did tonight...the way you made me feel, the way you treated me...I've never felt so safe. Or special.”

"It was nothin'," he says, his cheeks flushing.

"It wasn't nothing," you insist, and he knows the look in your eyes means you're not going to let it go. "You made me feel beautiful, and wanted, and cared for, and I'll never be able to thank you enough for that. And it's going to take a lot more than a rough fuck to get rid of me."

"Yeah?" he breathes.

"Yes," you say, pressing a kiss to his chin.

"Okay," he nods. "So, we're gonna try this, huh?"

"Do you want to?"

"Are you kidding me? Of course I do," he laughs, his hands coming to rest on your thighs. "I just didn't want to push."

"Well, consider this your official invitation," you tell him, your hands sliding down and squeezing his biceps. "I'm all yours."

"All mine, huh?"

"Yep."

"Good," he nods, and then he's scooping you back up and carrying you toward the shower. "Because I'm all yours, too."

"Even better," you laugh, and the sound is like music to his ears.

Wrecker kisses you again, his hands gripping your thighs, and your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer. You smile against his lips, and he can't help the grin that spreads across his face. He's not sure how this happened. He's not sure why you picked him. But he doesn't care.

All he cares about is the feeling of your lips against his, and the sound of your laughter filling the room. All he cares about is the taste of your mouth, and the warmth of your skin, and the way his chest swells every time you look at him.

He doesn't know where this is going, or how far it will go, but he knows one thing.

He wants it. All of it. With you.

Translation: ma sareen = Ryl for "my sweet"

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Please take good care of them!

Vibrator Play with Echo

Minors... how do I put this nicely... GTFOOOOOOO!! ;) You shouldn't be following this account anyway! This is a result of my recent poll, where our beloved Echo remained victorious as the most desired clone for some teasing and toying. ;)

NSFW - Minors DNI - TBB Echo x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2k Content beneath the cut, dividers by snotbuggle from this post!

Content Warnings: Echo using a vibrator on fem!reader, fingering, teasing, a wee bit of dirty talk, booby grabbing, grinding, unprotected p in v, and most dangerously... Echo in gray sweatpants. 🫡

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Echo nuzzled against the side of your face as the holofilm came to an end. The two of you were draped across each other on the couch, warm and unfathomably comfortable after a lazy afternoon in while the rain poured outside. You heaved a deep sigh, watching his arm rise and fall on your side, and didn’t know if you could be more content if you tried.

But he had other plans.

His scomp was comfortably tucked into the cushions, other arm wrapped around you, and he began to toy with the bottom hem of your shirt, bringing his lips to the edge of your earlobe, where he took it gently between his teeth. A wave of tingles immediately reverberated across your body from between your legs, and suddenly you knew exactly how you could be more content. You shifted your hips against him, not so accidentally brushing between his legs, smiling as you heard the faintest chuckle deep in his chest.

“Oh really?” he said dryly, a bit of huskiness laced through the warmth of his voice. 

“What?” you asked, feigning complete innocence and writhing against him a little more, his resulting chuckle sounding a little darker and sending a shiver down your spine. 

“Feeling coy tonight, eh?” his hand slipped a little further up beneath your shirt, savoring the voluptuous curve of the bottom of a breast. His fingers were light, hinting at fervor, and you felt a delicious thrill, knowing how he could play you like an instrument. You turned your head a little, bringing your lips to the side of his face now to place an affectionate kiss on his cheekbone. You reached around his head with your arm, arching your back to give him a loving caress, and tried to hold back a shudder as his hand continued upward, barely touching a nipple before dipping across your collarbone and stroking the top of the other breast. 

“Loth-cat got your tongue now, sweetie?” his croon was dangerously smooth, and you knew you were just asking for it now. But you couldn’t resist grinding into his crotch just a little more, feeling his hard length shift beneath you as his hand tightened around a breast. 

He hummed as though making a mental decision, continuing to gently tease your chest with a tantalizing mixture of strokes and squeezes, and nestled his face against your neck again, rutting against you now. Something about groping each other on the couch like horny teenagers made you smile, and you reached your hand down to toy with his hip instead, giving his thigh a suggestive squeeze.

“That’s it,” Echo said suddenly, extricating himself from the couch far too quickly. The next thing you knew, he was on his feet, erection apparent beneath those gray sweat pants that you never could resist. They hung just a little loosely around his waist, highlighting the aptly named “happy trail“ that you were all too eager to follow when given the chance. 

“What!” you exclaimed, fearing for a moment that you’ve gone too far and he was legitimately angry. But he had a devious smirk on his face, extending a hand to you and assisting you to your feet as well. He guided you to the bedroom, where he pulled you into a passionate kiss that made your knees weak.

He tilted his head, nipping at your lower lip and soothing it with a gentle swipe of the tongue as you opened to him in eager acceptance. Your mouths met again and again, hands beginning to rove more heavily as the two of you freed each other from clothing. You were grateful for the warm coziness of your apartment as article after article fell to the ground, leaving you in just a bra and underwear.

The cool metal of his scomp tickled your side, tracing along the waistband of your panties as he massaged your chest through your bra, standing behind you again and littering heavy kisses across the top of your shoulder. Then, just as quickly, he was moving again, rummaging in your dresser drawer for a moment before sitting on the edge of the bed, legs wide and inviting. You were both in your underwear, and you couldn’t resist straddling his lap, awkwardly arranging your legs on either side of him as you cradled his head and kissed him deeply. 

You were aching for him already, grinding against him in pursuit of what friction could be had, relishing the way his hands danced across your back and his breathing grew heavier.

You stood back up on your feet, tapping the side of his hip and pulling off his underwear as he complied by lifting his butt, but as you moved toward him again, he firmly turned you around, helped you out of your panties, and pulled you into his lap backward, holding your spine against his chest and using his legs beneath your own to spread you out against him. 

He unclasped your bra, tossing it aside as he began to ravage your front with his hand more heavily, whispering dirty things in your ear that were punctuated with nibbles and licks on the side of your neck. He grazed a nipple with his scomp, sending a jolt of electricity through you, and the other hand began to tease along the inside of your thigh.

You felt exposed, but deliciously so, as his strong body pressed against you and his fingers grazed the side of your folds. Kriff, you wanted him bad. You could feel a throbbing ache, and you wanted to turn around and mount him without further ado. But something about his quiet sense of determination have you absolutely riveted, and when he ghosted across your clit with his fingertips, you couldn’t hold back a needy little gasp that only seemed to encourage him. 

“You like to tease, hmm?” he breathed against your shoulder, touching you everywhere between the legs except where he knew you wanted him to. “Two can play at that game, you know…”

“You’re killing me,” you whined, arching your back again as he moved his legs to spread you open a little more. 

“I would never,” he mocked, mimicking your own clueless response earlier. But the words were accompanied by his hand withdrawing, and you groaned in thinly-veiled impatience.

A sudden buzzing sound startled you, and the next thing you know, he had your small vibrating wand in his hand, hovering between your legs in the most tantalizing way. A string of expletives escaped your lips as he nestled up against your back, pulling you securely against him while he leaned back on his other arm. 

And then, just barely, and with pinpoint accuracy, he touched the vibrator to your most sensitive spot, feeling you jerk in response as your brain buzzed with delight. It was a split second, then he pulled it away, keeping your hips in place with careful firmness. He did it again, pressing it gently against your entrance and slowly moving upward until you were seeing stars. He had gotten you so riled up already that you didn’t think you could last very long like this, and you reached behind to dig your fingers into his thigh and arm as he left it there a little longer this time before pulling it away again. 

“I want you,” you breathed, low and husky with raw desire, and he smiled in genuine delight before kissing your shoulder.

“And I you, but first I’d like to hear all the pretty little noises you can make,” he muttered against your skin, touching you with the wand again while grasping a breast more firmly now. 

“Kriff, Echo,” you whined, tilting your hips into the toy, dying for more pressure than the teasing play he was giving you. “This isn’t fair.”

“Life never is,” he said philosophically, relishing the way you squirmed in his arms as the vibrator sent waves of pleasure through you again and again. You grabbed your own chest in desperation, squeezing a handful as he moved it up and down in tiny motions that had the magnitude of earthquakes. “That’s it,” he purred, leaning back further to spread you wider on top of him, “You’re gonna take me so well, aren’t you…”

“Fuck yes,” you breathed, feeling yourself nearing the edge. “Please…”

He pulled the wand away, bringing his own hand back against the sloppy mess of your arousal and swollen folds, he split his fingers down the sides, stroking up and down gently in a soothing way, causing you to clench in anticipation. He teased your opening with a single digit, sliding it barely inside before dragging it up against your clit, making little circles with jerky movements that betrayed his own lustful impatience. You bucked your hips against his hand, finally coaxing him to dip two fingers inside, earning a moan from you. He pressed his thumb against your clit at the same time, slowly rocking in and out until you were whining incoherently. Finally he could stand it no longer.

He was on his feet. You on your back. He pulled you to the edge of the bed, one arm looped beneath each of your knees as he nestled his hips against you. His cock laid along your opening, and the slightest tilt of movement from him dragged it silkily across your folds.

“You’re a fucking tease,” you growled, reaching down to grip his thighs, arms, whatever you could reach. He smirked, angling himself to press into you, and finally gave in to your pleas, stuffing you with his cock until he bottomed out with a groan. You were wildly impatient, tilting your own hips to hit the best spots, and he started thrusting, his perfect body illuminated by the gentle glow of the outside lights. 

The buzzing sound started up again, and he continued his rhythm, laying your legs a little farther apart and spreading your folds with his fingers. The anticipation was killing you as the cool air hit your sensitive spot, and when he touched the vibrator to it, still thrusting deep into you, you couldn’t hold back. The noises, the writhing, the gasping and grabbing of any part of him you could find, all goaded him to press the toy a little more firmly, sending waves of delight sparkling through your body like electricity. He knew exactly where to put it, setting the bundle of nerves on fire and throwing the rest of you over the edge as well. 

You came fast and hard, curling your head to your chest and pulsing with rhythmic climax as the pleasure cascaded over you again and again. You almost felt like crying, every inch of your body radiating as he kept going, not changing a thing as you rode it out. 

“Oh fuck, look at you,” he said, voice gritty as though his teeth were clenched. He opened his mouth to say more, but clamped it shut again as his own orgasm threatened. When you placed a quick hand on the back of his, he turned the vibrator off and tossed it to the side, closing your legs and turning them to the side in one swift movement. You lay sideways, gripping the sheets in continued bliss as he continued thrusting, the sensation of his cock between your legs absolutely perfect as he angled for that deep spot. You’d never felt like this before, knuckles white around the cotton sheets as you pressed your face into them, still moaning his praises. He came with his own chorus of expletives, his hot spill filling you perfectly as his movements became erratic, his fingers digging into your hip so hard he couldn’t help it. 

When he finally slowed, shaky and panting, he rested inside for a moment, leaning over you to rest his forehead on your side. 

“Kriff,” was all he could say, and your breathy laugh brought a smile to his face. 

“You’re next,” you murmured, tossing the spicy vibrator fic wand over to @deejadabbles to write part two. ;)

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"The Bad Batch" Timeline: Explained

I've had some interesting conversations with folks on Twitter over the last few weeks about the timeline of "The Bad Batch" show: How much time passes between any given episodes? How old is Omega during S1 or S3? etc.

The short answer is that the entire show takes place over 18-24 months*

(*NOTE: All timeline discussion excludes the TBB epilogue at the end of episode 3.15 "The Cavalary Has Arrived.")

EDIT: I’m also calculating time based on Earth weeks/months/years. I recognize that time in the Star Wars universe likely varies from planet to planet, so I just want to clarify we’re going off IRL time calculations: 7 days to a week, ~30 days to a month, 12 months to a year. I’m also not referring to any external sources (except Wookieepedia, but that’s more to confirm the timeline, not create it), so I don’t care what some guidebook says. I’m going based on what happens in the show itself.

Wookieepedia lists Hemlock's death as 18 BBY, so at least 12-24 months pass between 1.01 "Aftermath" in 19 BBY and Hemlock's death in the series finale.

However, the two biggest and clearest indications of how much time passes during the show is Mayday's comments in 2.12 "The Outpost" and Omega's tally marks in 3.01 "Confined."

In 2.12, Mayday says he's been posted on Barton IV for over a year, and based on his comments, he wasn't posted on Barton IV until after The Clone Wars ended. So, it's been at least a year -- but probably more like 14-15 months because Mayday says "over a year" -- since the events of 1.01 "Aftermath."

Then after the time-jump during 3.01, Omega has about 5.5 months of tally marks. Rounding up from when Crosshair was arrested and taken to Tantiss, about 6 months have passed since 2.12.

So, between those two indicators, at least 18 months have passed between 1.01 "Aftermath" and the end of 3.01 "Confined." But, realistically, it's probably been more like 20-21 months.

Then, the rest of S3 takes place over a pretty compressed timeframe, as no more than a few days seem to pass between episodes. I'll get into this more later, but I'm guessing that the end of 3.01 "Confined" to the big showdown on Tantiss in 3.15 "The Cavalry Has Arrived" takes place over the course of 1-2 months.

Again, it's confirmed that 18-24 months pass between the series premiere and the series finale.

But, my best guess is that the entire show takes place over 22-23 months based on in-universe clues.

THE SEASON 1 TIMELINE BREAKDOWN

Overall, I'm guessing that Season 1 takes place over the course of 4-6 months. I think this is much shorter than some people think, but it makes sense to me based on context clues.

1.01 "Aftermath" takes place over the course of a few days, and then 1.02 "Cut & Run" to 1.06 "Decommissioned" all seem to take place in a very compressed timeframe. No more than a day or two seems to pass between episodes, and no more than a day or two passes within each episode.

So, I'm thinking the end of 1.06 is takes place about a month after 1.01.

Then we get our first notable time-jump between 1.06 and 1.07.

1.07 "Battle Scars" opens with the Bad Batch having done at least 10 more jobs for Cid since we last saw them in 1.06. (FYI: this is based on Omega and Wrecker's order of 20 cartons of Mantell Mix).

However Cid talks about the Corellia job like it wasn't too long ago, and if we average 2-3 days per job (which seems realistic based on what we see in the show), then about a month has passed between 1.06 and 1.07.

So, at the beginning of 1.07, I'm saying about two months have passed since 1.01 "Aftermath."

Then 1.08 "Reunion" and 1.09 "Bounty Lost" take place immediately after 1.07.

Skipping over 1.10, we get another notable time-jump between 1.09 "Bounty Lost" and 1.11 "Devil's Deal." The biggest indicator is Crosshair's recovery from his injuries on Bracca.

Assuming at least a month for him to recover and be stationed on Ryloth with Rampart & co., that means at least three months have passed between 1.01 "Aftermath" and 1.11 "Devil's Deal."

Even though we don't have any firm timeline, I don't think more than 2 months passed between 1.09 and 1.11, because everyone on Ryloth talks like it hasn't been that long since the Clone Wars ended.

Anyway, then 1.12 "Rescue on Ryloth" takes place immediately after 1.11.

Now, we know that 1.14-1.16 all take place over the course of a few days. So that just leaves us with how much time passes between 1.12 "Rescue on Ryloth" and 1.14 "War-Mantle."

Given that Rampart gave Crosshair permission to hunt down his brothers at the end of 1.12, I'm going to assume he wasn't looking for them that long. Rampart never complains that Crosshair's manhunt is wasting time, or that it's taking so long that they should abandon the effort. Plus, they were also busy decommissioning Tipoca City and the other Kaminoan facilities, so I imagine that took some time.

So, maybe 3-5 weeks (or another month) in all.

To recap, we have:

A month from 1.01 to 1.06

A month between 1.06 and 1.07

A month between 1.07-1.09 and 1.11/1.12

A month between 1.11/1.12 and 1.14-1.16

Overall, 4 months for sure, but 5-6 months seems a good estimate.

This would also account for how much time passes during the Bracca and Ryloth arcs, and gives more wiggle room on how long Crosshair's recovery process was. Maybe it took him two months to recover from Bracca and be assigned to Ryloth. Or maybe Crosshair was searching for his brothers for more than a month after Ryloth. Who knows?

But, overall, I'm estimating the events of 1.16 "Kamino Lost" take place 5-6 months after 1.01 "Aftermath."

THE SEASON 2 TIMELINE BREAKDOWN

I'll tell you now: early Season 2 is where a lot of my guesses go out the window, because we get far fewer clues as to how much time passes between episodes.

Let's start with the time-jump between the end of Season 1 and the beginning of S2.

Based on Rampart and Crosshair's conversation in 2.03 "The Solitary Clone," Crosshair was stranded on Kamino for a month.

Given that he didn't have any food or water on him when his brothers left him on the platform, he must've been emaciated and dehydrated AF, even if he found some way to collect rainwater and/or catch fish. And Rampart said he needed to be "medically cleared" for active duty.

At least two months seems a good estimate. One month for Crosshair to be stranded; another month for him to recover. It's possible it was longer, though, I admit.

So, at the beginning of 2.03 "The Solitary Clone," we're at least 7 months removed from 1.01 "Aftermath."

Now, I actually think 2.03 takes place before 2.01/2.02. Story for another time, but it boils down to:

1) The creators would want to kick off Season 2 with a Bad Batch-centric episode not a Crosshair-centric episode, even if Crosshair’s episode takes place first chronologically; and

2) Rampart learns the Bad Batch is alive in 2.02, but never has Crosshair arrested or monitored as a potential spy or anything -- this only makes sense if Rampart finds out TBB is alive after Crosshair is cleared for duty and has proven his loyalty.

But, ultimately it doesn't matter:

Based on Mayday's comments in 2.12 "The Outpost," early Season 2 has to cover at least 7 more months. That means that months are passing between episodes in early S2.

In 2.12, Mayday says he's been stationed at the Outpost for over a year, and that he wasn't stationed there until after the war ended. So, assuming at least a month after the war for him to be reassigned, and then 13 months for him to be on Barton IV ... 2.12 has to take place at least 14 months after 1.01 "Aftermath."

So, ultimately, I think 2.01/2.02 might take place 3-4 months after the Fall of Kamino in 1.16 "Kamino Lost." It would allow enough time for the Bad Batch to get new clothes, repaint their old armor, and for Omega to start all of her studies while the Bad Batch continues to do jobs for Cid.

Then we probably have another month between 2.02 "Ruins of War" and 2.04 "Faster." Then another month to 2.05 "Entombed." And then another month to 2.06 "Tribe." And then another month to the beginning of 2.07 “The Clone Conspiracy.”

Because of how compressed the back-half of Season 2 is, I think 2.07/2.08 takes place about 13 months after the war ends in 1.01 "Aftermath" and, thus, about 7-8 months after the Fall of Kamino in 1.16 "Kamino Lost."

Now, once we get to 2.07, that's when the timeline starts compressing again based on in-universe clues.

We know 2.08 "Truth and Consequences" takes place almost immediately after 2.07. So, no more than a week seems to pass between the beginning of 2.07 and the end of 2.08.

Then, 2.09 "The Crossing" takes place a few days after 2.08, as Omega is still adjusting to Echo's absence. Then 2.10 "Retrieval" is immediately after 2.09, and 2.11 "Metamorphosis" takes place maybe a day after 2.10.

So, from the beginning of 2.07 to the end of 2.11, maybe two weeks have passed in-universe.

Then, at the beginning of 2.13 "Pabu," Cid remarks that it's been 20 rotations since she last talked to the Bad Batch in 2.11.

From 2.13 to 2.14, I'm guessing 1-2 weeks have passed based on how much of Pabu has been rebuilt since the sea surge and other context clues (like Shep and Hunter's conversation about the Bad Batch staying on Pabu).

Now, we're not exactly sure where 2.12 "The Outpost" falls in the S2 timeline. I'm guessing it's simultaneous with 2.13 "Pabu" for thematic and dramatic reasons, but we see all our various plot threads align in 2.14 "Tipping Point." Everything Echo, Crosshair and Hunter & co. do happens within 2-3 days.

Then, based on Echo's comments, we know 2.15 "The Summit" takes place two days after the Bad Batch's conversation at the end of 2.14 "Tipping Point." And then 2.16 "Plan 99" takes place immediately after 2.15.

So, while I can't speculate much on early S2, I can tell you that 2.07-2.16 spans about two months.

To recap:

2 months between 1.16 "Kamino Lost" and 2.03 "The Solitary Clone"

Several months between 2.01/2.02 and 2.07

A week during 2.07 and 2.08

A few days between 2.08 and 2.09

Another week during 2.09 to 2.11

Three weeks between 2.11 and 2.13

Two weeks between 2.13 and 2.14

A week during 2.14 to 2.16

But, overall, I'm estimating the events of 2.16 "Plan 99" take place 15-16 months after 1.01 "Aftermath."

THE SEASON 3 TIMELINE BREAKDOWN

Unlike the previous two seasons, Season 3 is very compressed. Outside of the time-jump within 3.01 "Confined," the entire season takes place over the course of 5-6 weeks. Not months. Weeks.

Now, again, I actually think 3.02 "Paths Unknown" takes place during the five-month time-jump within 3.01. But that doesn't really matter.

As we see from Omega's tally marks, the end of 3.01 takes place about 5.5 months after 2.16 "Plan 99." So, we have our between-seasons time-jump spelled out for us this time.

This means the end of 3.01 "Confined" takes place 21-22 months after 1.01 "Aftermath."

Skipping over 3.02, episode 3.03 "Shadows of Tantiss" seems to take place within a few days of the end of 3.01. We see that Omega is still being monitored closely after her outburst in the lurca kennels; and Hemlock told Nala Se in 3.01 that the Emperor would be arriving soon to check on their progress, which he does in 3.03. Heck, maybe 3.03 takes place the day after 3.01, but I’ll give a little wiggle room and say it’s been a few days.

Then, we know that the beginning of 3.03 to the end of 3.05 all takes place in a very short amount of time. Maybe a week.

3.04 "A Different Approach" takes place immediately after 3.03, and no more than a day or two passes between the end of 3.04 and the beginning of 3.05 "The Return."

So, from the end of 3.01 to the end of 3.05, two weeks have passed at most.

The gap between 3.05 and 3.06 is the only span of time in S3 we don't have any solid indicators about. It clearly wasn't too long, as Howzer talks about Crosshair escaping Tantiss like it happened fairly recently. Overall, I'd guess it's been maybe a week or two since Crosshair and Omega escaped Tantiss.

Then, 3.07 takes place immediately after 3.06.

Excluding 3.10 "Identity Crisis," we know that 3.08-3.11 all take place within a short amount of time. No more than 2-3 days seem to pass between episodes, and no more than 2-3 days passes within each episode. In total, I'd say these three episodes take place over the course of two weeks.

Thus, I'm guessing 4-5 weeks, or about a month, passes from the end of 3.01 "Confined" to the beginning of 3.11 "Point of No Return."

Then, we know the timeline 3.11 between 3.15 is very short because all the episodes take place almost immediately after each other. The only exception is between 3.12 and 3.13, when maybe 12-24 hours passes based on Omega's movements in the Vault and her brothers' plans to infiltrate the orbital station.

You can round up and say a week, but that almost seems generous to me. Maybe a work week. Like the Empire invaded Pabu Monday night and Omega & co. were back on Pabu Friday morning.

Overall, I think the beginning of 3.11 "Point of No Return" to the end of 3.15 "The Cavalry Has Arrived" spans 3-5 days.

To recap:

5.5 months from the end of 2.16 "Plan 99" to the end of 3.01 "Confined"

A week from the end of 3.01 to the end of 3.05

A week between 3.05 and 3.06/3.07

Three weeks during 3.06/3.07 to 3.11

A week during 3.11 to 3.15

Again, outside of the time-jump within 3.01, the entirety of Season 3 takes place over 1-2 months if we're looking at the larger post-"Aftermath" timeframe.

Overall, I'm estimating the showdown on Tantiss and Hemlock's death in 3.15 "The Cavalry Has Arrived" takes place about 22-23 months after 1.01 "Aftermath."

We know it's not more than 24 months after the war ends, because Wookieepedia would list Hemlock's death in 17 BBY instead of 18 BBY. So no more than 24 calendar months can pass between "The Bad Batch" series premiere and series finale.

But, accounting for things that happen within the show, 22-23 months seems about right. Like, it's been almost two calendar years, but not quite.

So, to give a real-world example, if Palpatine gave his "Revenge of the Sith" speech to reorganize into the Galactic Empire on Jan. 1, 2022, then the big showdown on Tantiss takes place in October or November 2023.

That means:

If Omega was 12 years old when her brothers met her on Kamino, she was 13-14 during the showdown on Tantiss.

After his inhibitor chip activated, Crosshair was separated from his brothers for more than 18 months before finally reconciling with them in 3.05 "The Return."

The Bad Batch worked for Cid for over a year, and she still betrayed them.

Phee and Tech's ~situationship~ might've lasted half-a-year between their first meeting in 2.01 "Spoils of War" and his death in 2.16 "Plan 99."

When Crosshair sent the Plan 88 message, the Bad Batch hadn't seen or heard from him in 8-9 months (since the Fall of Kamino).

Omega only got to spend 15-16 months with Tech before his death in 2.16 “Plan 99.” 😭

Crosshair hadn't seen his brothers for over a year between the Fall of Kamino and escaping Tantiss with Omega.

Omega and Crosshair only spent about 7 months together during the show (5.5 on Tantiss and 1.5 after their escape), and most of that was off-screen. 🙁

Apparently, more time passed between S1 and S2 than during S3 (excluding the time jump and epilogue). Seriously. From the end of 3.01 to the final showdown on Tantiss, the Bad Batch had a very insane and stressful 5-6 weeks. They all looked like they could use a nap in that final group shot under the tree, and I don't blame them!

All the clones (except Omega) aged 3-4 biological years over the course of the show. So, if Hunter & co. were biologically 22 when they met Omega on Kamino, they'd be about 24-25 when they finally settle down on Pabu.

Not sure how this will help people, but I wanted to share it because I've been thinking about how insane this show's timeline -- how loosey-goosey it is in some places while being super-rigid in others.

So, enjoy!

goggles :)

I related a little too hard with this 😅

Absolute perfection, he’s so dang cute 🥰

Tech's First Time

I LOVE these first-time fics! This one is for our beloved Tech, in an established relationship/wedding night sort of setup. I wanted to keep it as realistic as possible while also maintaining that beautiful dreamy quality of fantasy writing. And obviously this is just my own take on it! I hope you enjoy!

Tech x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.8k Content warnings beneath the cut Dividers courtesy of @vimse!!

Content: idk now to tag these, haha, but it's got kissing, touching all over, unprotected P in V, healthy communication... that's about it? ;)

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

You couldn’t believe all that lay before you. You’d never have fathomed that fate would be so kind as to bring you someone like Tech. Through years of friendship and a deepening affection, you’d slowly learned what it was to love, to connect across differences and deeply enjoy the shared interests and approaches. And now, after long-awaited confessions and a fully-developed relationship, you’d made a commitment to each other, a sacred vow to become one.

And now, the soothing summer breeze grazed through the windows of the secluded cabin you found yourselves in. After the local ritual, you’d celebrated with your closest friends, although you’d call them family. It was a whole new part of life that was opening up to you, and you approached it with excitement, the complete trust and intimacy allowing the trepidations to fade into the dark. A large, hand-hewn wooden bed nearly filled the main room, which was on the second story and offered lush views of the forest as well as the nearby creek and mountains. The sheets were unfathomably soft, tucked neatly beneath a comforter so fluffy that you could have sworn it was a cloud. And on the other side of them lay Tech. 

He was beautifully tanned, divinely sculpted in lithe fitness, and naked from the waist up with the rest lying in mystery beneath the light, silky sheet. His thin lips were curved in a gentle smile, head tucked into a hand propped up on an elbow. You stood sheepishly across the bed from him, in the white lingerie you’d selected – thin shoulder straps holding up a tiny dress that hugged your chest and waist. The satin fabric was shimmery and soft, almost ethereal in the flattering way it covered and complimented you. 

“I am not unaware of your physical attractiveness, especially in this sultry little ensemble, but I feel a great need to confess that the joy radiating from your face is utterly captivating me at the moment,” Tech declared, gazing at you with warmth and affection. You felt as though you might burst, and a simultaneous shiver ran across your body. Tech was someone who, once he had made up his mind about the way he felt about any particular thing or the next positive course of action, approached it with the most diligent preparation possible. He absorbed information at superhuman speed, devouring anything and everything he could to equip himself, and any potential wavering of his confidence or decisiveness was never to be seen once his mind was made up. So the thought of what awaited you this evening made your head spin. 

“I don’t know what to say,” you admitted with a grin, pulling back the covers to crawl into the bed next to him. “I just can’t believe we’re here.”

“Mm,” Tech agreed, hand twitching where it rested on the outside of the sheets on his hip. “It is most agreeable. No, that is an understatement. There is a better adjective.” 

“Sublime!” you laughed, feeling giddy with bliss. To have been enamored with his intelligence and have also captured his heart made you feel like the luckiest creature in the galaxy. The distasteful exhale through his nostrils continued your giggles as he fixed you with a mockingly critical expression. Your shared love for words in all their forms had been the source of many a feisty conversation and inside joke. 

“We can complete our search for the appropriate diction later,” he returned with the hint of a smirk. “I believe something else is expected tonight.” His tone was unreadable, causing you to immediately feel anxious and conjure up a million questions and doubts in a split second. 

“We don’t have to do anything!” you said quickly. “You know that!”

“I am well aware, love,” Tech answered, shifting forward slightly to brush his fingers lightly along the forearm you had tucked along your front, holding the sheet against your chest. Your chest blossomed with warmth at his words. The subtle smolder in his eyes was causing an entirely different sensation. “If I have been accurately assessing our physical progress, I would posit that we are both in agreement. However, if I have surmised incorrectly, there is of course no pressure on you in any way, real or perceived.”

You swallowed, heart racing in your throat, “No… I… em… I’m really excited. I just…” You paused, relishing his gentle strokes on your arm. “Well, you know I don’t know what I’m doing.” 

“I believe the concept is quite simple–”

“Not that,” you laughed, knowing he was pulling your leg with his deadpan humor that had such razor-sharp wit that it went over most people’s heads. He perpetuated others’ perceptions of him ad absurdum until it was really he who was toying with them. Their flustered explanations and increasing dysregulation brought him a moment of mirth when he was in the mood for it. It was something you’d grown to spot right away and had been the source of many nights of laughter during social situations and family gatherings.

“Well then I do not foresee any issue,” Tech answered with a smile that flitted across his face. 

“I know. It just… I can’t just flip a switch and be all sexy all of a sudden.”

“The primary objective as far as I understand it,” he began, scooting forward to bring himself an hand’s length away from you. “Is to enjoy the leisurely exploration of one another with vulnerability and intimacy. I do not expect some kind of show. I am…” he paused, eyes growing slightly more intent, “I am simply looking forward to knowing you in a new way.”

You bit your lip, a wave of tingles running through you. That wasn’t what you had expected, but nothing could have been more perfect. He moved his hand to your side, nestling it against the curve of your waist beneath the sheet. You were lost for words.

“However,” he continued, “I do understand that there is a significant shift in cognitive function that might seem daunting. I believe this is one scenario in which the bodily sensations might effectively lead the mind rather than attempting to make it comply by sheer willpower. So if you feel any apprehension, perhaps you could allow me to test that theory.” 

“For science,” you murmured, electrified at his touch as he lifted his hand to your cheek, brushing a thumb along the cheekbone before cupping his fingers along your jaw and neck. He shifted forward, dropping his lips to yours in a warm, soft, chaste kiss. You’d gotten pretty worked up together before, many times, but you had a habit of overthinking things, and something about the long-awaited anticipation was making you needlessly concerned. It did begin to melt immediately as Tech tilted his head, deepening the kiss with firm lips and pulling you against his chest. 

He was so warm, so strong, and you could feel the passion beginning to build. Your own arm wrapped around him, fingers pressing into the small of his back as you slid your tongue along his. You’d never get enough of the way he tasted, the way his increasingly strong exhales would tickle, the occasional jab of a rim of his goggles before he took them off. Your mouth met his again, tongues caressing before you pulled away with a gentle suckle of his lower lip. The tiny shudder that always earned from him gave you an endless source of glee, and you smiled against him as he continued to kiss you. 

His hand slid down the side of your neck, tracing the edge of your collarbone before dropping to your waist again, pulling you ever closer. You buried your fingers in his hair, splaying them between goggle straps and tufts of his brown locks, and felt your stomach flip as his kisses got messier and hungrier. The backs of his fingers grazed across a breast, teasing the already-stiff nipple thinly sheathed by the silky fabric, and you inhaled sharply. They continued down, across your stomach, barely skipping over your mound to finish up the side of your thigh. He was so intentional, so patient and strategic, that he always had you chomping at the bit right away. It wasn’t fair, as he seemed to maintain such composure with a perfect amount of matching desire. 

“Your lips are so soft,” he said quietly, pulling back slightly to regard you and to brush the hair back from your face. “The scent and taste of you is intoxicating to me.” He gently invited you to lie flat on your back, tracing idle fingers from your chin to your chest, right down the middle of your stomach and along the other thigh. “The response of your body to my touch creates an immense intimacy between us,” he continued, nuzzling his face into your neck. 

“Geez, Tech,” you breathed, aflame with hunger already. He exhaled a quiet chuckle, slipping a single finger beneath the strap over one of your shoulders. Following it down the side of your arm, he gave it one last tug and your breast spilled out into his gentle hand. Repeating the process on the other side after a teasing caress, your chest rose and fell with excited breaths as the cool night air kissed your bare skin. He traced along the underside of a breast, finishing with a calculated squeeze of the nipple that sent a jolt of energy right to your core. 

When he leaned over to kiss your chest, you tipped your chin up in complete bliss, catching hints of whispered affection as his lips moved. One hand massaged a breast as he placed his mouth tentatively over the other, leaving it with a warm, tingly kiss before pulling away. You shifted your weight, pressing the side of your thigh against his hardening length, the feel of which was sending waves of nervous excitement over you. The steady increase of your responsiveness gave Tech a heady feeling of ardent warmth, and he lifted his head to gaze at you again. You couldn’t help but smile, unsuccessfully trying to suppress a shiver that ran across your body as he caressed a cheek once again. 

“I think you were right,” you whispered, eyes sparkling with affection as you sat up slightly to prop yourself up on an elbow. You didn’t even need to refer to what specifically – his mouth was already curving in a slightly smug grin. 

“I am seldom wrong,” he returned, and you giggled in pure delight, cupping his face and pulling him to you again. Your lips met his, a little more sloppily this time, and your fingers ran through his brown hair, catching on the strap of his goggles. With an apprehensive focus on his response, you carefully slipped the golden lenses off of his face, reveling in his beautiful vulnerability as you set them off to the side. 

“You are everything I ever could have dreamed of,” you said quietly, blushing slightly at the cheesiness of your words as you stroked a hand along the side of his face. His eyes were closed, cheeks gently curved in contentment, and he let out a breath. 

“Statistically, I find that highly unlikely,” he murmured, earning another chuckle from you. He slowly opened his luminous amber eyes, finding your gaze and sending another wave of tingles down your spine. 

“Statistics be damned,” you answered, leaning into him suddenly for more of those soft, sensual kisses that made you dizzy and desirous all at once. A shift of your limbs brought your bodies together, pressed closely from head to toe, and a breathy sigh escaped your lips. He was lying on his side as well, and you draped a leg over his, immediately noting the exhilarating sensation of his cock between your legs. The silky underwear was the only thing between you, and the cool smoothness enhanced the feeling. 

Now it was your turn to let your hands roam, relishing the curve of his back, the plumpness of his butt, and the hair on his thigh as you stroked as far as you could reach before coming back up slowly. He was kissing you still, tilting his head and opening his mouth to glide his tongue against yours and experiment with careful nips with his teeth. As you drew your hand back upward, you traced the front of his stomach, feeling him tense, and brought your palm to a rest on his chest, right above his racing heart. 

You relaxed onto your back again, immediately followed by him leaning over you, slipping his hand beneath your silky top as his mouth wandered from yours to your ear and down the side of your neck. Heavy kisses were punctuated by more suggestive licks and short drags of his teeth against your skin that made goosebumps erupt in their trail, and he pulled your shirt up and over your head, freeing you from it entirely. His hand was warm on your stomach, fingers splayed as he slid it back up to a breast, cupping it more firmly now. The quiet rumble from him at the heady sensation made you arch your back into his touch, and you slipped your arm beneath him to wrap it around his back, raking your fingernails down his spine. 

His breaths were growing heavier, tickling your collarbone as he nuzzled close against you, gliding his hand down your stomach again and grazing your mound over the satin underwear. It was tantalizing, the way he caressed a thigh and then stroked a single finger along the edge of the panties, just barely slipping beneath them to tease the skin beneath. He lifted his face from your neck and leaned it against your own for a moment as his touch roved up the middle of your underwear, his own arousal growing at the unmistakable wetness he was met with as you subtly bucked your hips toward him. 

You felt dizzy with lust as he slid his hand under the silky waistband for a feather-light trace of your folds. You gasped at the heat and electricity that bloomed between your legs, pressing your face against his and sharing the same air, losing yourself in the scent of his breath and the gentle, blissful sensation of his touch. He stroked you again, more firmly this time, with a finger sinking a little deeper as he caressed your entrance from bottom to top, and when he found your clit, lingering for a second with a leisurely circling motion, you inhaled sharply, reaching down with your own hand between the two of you and brushing the backs of your fingers against his erection. 

You were tentative and a little clumsy, wrapping your fingers around his length and softly running them from base to tip. He shuddered again, and you turned your face to meet his, losing yourself in his kisses as the two of you stroked one another. You were a wet mess of desire between your legs, and his own excitement was evident as you ran your hand over his tip, gathering the leaking arousal and gliding it back down across his silky skin. You were both breathing hard now, kissing fervently as though it were the anchor that held you together as you explored one another, and finally, he could hold back no longer. 

He pulled back, rearranging himself to climb on top of you, settling himself between your legs with his strong thighs pressed against them. His arms were on either side of your head, holding him up just enough to avoid crushing you but allowing his entire body to fit against yours. You both radiated heat and desire, and you turned your head to kiss his forearm, gripping his wrist with your hand as he dipped his head to kiss your breasts again. You were aching between your legs, all kinds of bold invitations floating through your mind but finding yourself too shy to vocalize any one of them out loud. But the attunement between the two of you was amazing, and the body language was unmistakable as you writhed against one another, hands and lips hungrily appreciating every inch they could reach. 

When he took a nipple into his mouth again, tingles radiated everywhere, and as he released it with a tiny smack of the lips, he tilted his hips to press his cock against your entrance. You couldn’t hold back the needy sigh, and when he gently rested his forehead against yours, you could feel his heart beating against your own as your chests came together. Carefully, precariously, he pressed himself against you, and his head sank into your folds with a hot smoothness that had you seeing fireworks. He paused, lifting his face a tiny bit to gauge your reaction, but you buried your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer in unspoken encouragement. 

He continued, lowering inch by inch and biting back a quiet groan as you stretched around him. When his hips met your own, you were reeling from the incredible sensation of his cock filling you perfectly, sinking in so deep and staying still as you adjusted to it all. You slipped your legs around his own, reveling in the way you were completely connected, entwined with one another in blissful completion, and you tipped your chin forward to kiss him on the lips. 

“Please stop or adjust at any point,” Tech whispered, his voice husky with self-restraint. He, too, was lost in a whirlwind of thoughts and stimulation, fighting back the urge to analyze and process it all. But he could feel his instincts fighting just as hard, washing over him with a primal hunger and ardent desire. You nodded against his cheek, sucking in a cool breath of air as he began to move slowly. The way his cock dragged against your walls was euphoric, and he pulled almost all the way out, pausing for a moment before carefully gliding back in. 

“Oh my gosh,” you breathed, unable to put any of it into words. You caressed the back of his head, his neck, the curve of his shoulder, and gripped his muscular thigh and buttcheek. It was impossible to get enough of him, and as he painstakingly moved in and out of you, allowing you to grow accustomed to the way you fit together, you found yourself feeling disproportionately feral in your desire for him to express himself more decisively. Your strokes grew heavier, and your writhing against him beckoned him to meet your passion with more of his own. 

He nestled one hand against the back of your neck, cupping the base of your skull with tender affection and a touch of firmness as he began to thrust more quickly. He could feel his climax flying at him at breakneck speed, simultaneously panicking at the lack of time to do all the things he’d read about in preparation. Your complete surrender to his touch and the way you gasped and sighed as though he were fulfilling your every fantasy was absolutely intoxicating to him, making him feel as though he were hurtling through hyperspace without a ship. He slowed his movement, concerned to be done too quickly and without you enjoying an orgasm of your own, and you opened your eyes in slight confusion, tilting your head in silent query. 

“I believe I am too close,” he confessed, and you smiled, overwhelmed with affection. 

“Don’t stop,” you invited. “We’ve got plenty of time for… everything else…” You knew from experience that he had no trouble whatsoever getting you off with his fingers alone, and right now the anticipation of him coming inside of you was too great to resist. 

“But you–”

“Later,” you insisted, pulling him closer with your legs wrapped around his own. “I want you… now…” you admitted, sheepishness significantly muted by the animalistic craving you felt. It seemed to goad him into action, soothing his concerns and allowing them to take a back seat, and you reveled in his tensing muscles as he began to move again. A low groan escaped as he sank into you deeply, bottoming out with an exhilarating grind of his pelvis against yours. You sank your fingers into the flesh on his hip, gripping his hair with your other hand, and curved your back to angle yourself to meet his thrusts. Incoherent whimpers of affirmation fell from your lips as he picked up speed, his lithe body wrapped around yours as his cock drove into you again and again. A light sheen of sweat was coating him now, and the heavy scent of passion on top of all the other sensations was making you deliriously happy. 

You kissed him deeply for a second before he broke away for air, leaning the side of his face against yours as he thrust hard and fast. There were a few sudden pangs of pain here and there as he moved, causing you to shift your hips in clueless adjustment, but his increasing sense of reckless abandon was so insanely hot that you soon forgot all about it, losing yourself in him completely as he released his strictly-maintained control over mind and body. When his climax crashed over him with powerful force, his ragged breaths and erratic motion made your heart sing, and your own sounds of satisfaction and encouragement joined with his. 

He took a long time to slow down, breathing hard and continuing to press himself into you again and again, reveling in the mind-blowing delight of your silky walls against his cock. His hot release only enhanced the sensations, and as he finally came to a halt, resting against you in utter bliss, you both lay in rapturous disbelief, completely connected in soul and body. You could feel the residual throbs inside of you as you caressed the back of his head with so much love you thought your heart would burst. His disarmed vulnerability and panting breath filled you with joy, and you gently slid one leg along his, vibrating from head to toe with the exhilaration of him lying against you. 

When he finally took a deep breath and pulled out slowly, you couldn’t help but shudder. You felt so fulfilled, so incomprehensibly whole, and you were entirely unbothered by the ticklish leak of his release between your legs as the two of you snuggled up together. The scent of sweat and musk and sex was heavy in the air, and you felt aglow with pleasure even without an orgasm of your own. It was all just… so much… and you wanted to commit every single second and detail to memory. As he nuzzled into the side of your face, radiating blissful adoration, you took his hand in yours, entwining your fingers and nestling both hands between you where they lay against each of your racing hearts.

“I love you,” you whispered, giddy with joy. 

“And I you,” Tech answered, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

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Shifting Loyalties NSFW

Word Count: 7.7k Pairings: The Bad Batch x fem!reader, Tech girlies you get an extra treat. Warnings: I'm not gonna lie y'all, this is smut with almost no plot. I can't list it all. I have no excuses, it's all the batch at once so that should give you an idea of what you're walking into. But no clonecest here. Barely proofread. Summary: The Bad Batch and you are supporting the 501st on a mission, where you are reunited with your old squad. The Batch get a bit jealous and Jesse fans the flame. NSFW

Fives is alive for this because, who doesn’t need more Fives and who doesn’t want to scream at canon sometimes.

-

“It’s obnoxious is what it is.” Crosshair spat, biting down hard enough on his toothpick to snap it in two.

The source of his irritation was the scene unfolding amongst the men of the 501st. During another last-minute mission as General Skywalker's backup, you and Echo had settled in with your former squad before it was time to turn in for the night. Gathered in a loose circle were Echo, Rex, Jesse, Fives, Kix, and you, catching up while the Batch observed from a distance.

Perched on a crate, with Fives at your side leaning on an elbow and talking your ear off, you crossed your ankles and swayed your feet lightly, clearly enjoying the conversation. When Fives' hand casually landed on your thigh, emphasizing his point, Wrecker couldn't suppress a low groan.

"What's so special about those guys, anyway?" Wrecker grumbled, tossing a hand in your direction as a loud laugh escaped you. "I bet it's not even that funny!"

Paying as little attention to the situation as possible, Tech interjected, "There's nothing 'special' about them. It’s simply a shared history." He glanced up to see Fives stand a bit taller, gesturing animatedly as he dominated the conversation. Fives leaned closer to you, his hands gripping your knees for balance.

Logically, there was nothing wrong with their behavior. As Tech understood it, such comradery was not uncommon amongst the regs. Yet seeing you at the center of it set his teeth on edge.

Kix and Jesse had picked up on the Batch’s attitude the moment you stepped off the Marauder. Rex warmed up to the 99’s but the rest of the 501st maintained their distance. That distance solidified into distaste when you left the 501st to join the Batch.

As Rex and Echo broke away on their own, Jesse sidled up to your side, opposite of Fives, with Kix at his side. While Fives pulled every laugh out of you he could, Kix noticed the scowl Tech was leveling him and subtly nudged Jesse.

“Looks like we’ve got an audience.” Kix muttered.

Jesse glanced briefly towards the four Batch members who were watching intently. "Oh, really?" Jesse scoffed, his gaze sweeping over the group before returning to you with a renewed, cocky smile. “Well, then let’s give them something to look at.”

Hopping up next to you, Jesse leaned into your space to position behind your back and hovering over your waist. “Say, Shorty?” He finally interrupted Fives’ ramblings, getting the ARC trooper to push off of you.

“Oh!” You laughed. “Back to ‘Shorty’ are we?”

Fives crossed his arms and grinned, “Well, seeing as how you are shorter than us - you’ll always be a shorty to us.” He nodded towards his brothers at your side. You rolled your eyes, but the small smile tugging at you betrayed your enjoyment

Catching this, Jesse and Fives shared a knowing look, Fives briefly glancing at Jesse's hand still poised near your side. Fives then uncrossed his arms and nodded subtly.

“As I was saying…” Jesse continued, his tone teasing. “You ever get over that little twitch of yours?”

A confused look passed over you. With a small shake of your head you asked, “What ‘twitch?’”

Without warning, Jesse’s hand snapped to your side, his fingers wiggling into your ribs, eliciting a yelp as you jumped into him. In a desperate attempt to escape his tickling, you shimmied forward, laughing through the discomfort. The sudden movement toppled you off the crate, straight into Fives’ waiting arms. Without missing a beat, he caught you with one arm cradling your ass and the other holding you by your waist.

Jesse and Kix chuckled as you shoved against Fives, your feigned anger fooling no one. Kix leaned over to Jesse, musing, "Oh, they didn't like that one bit."

“Looks like someone should go lend them some comfort.” Jesse said sarcastically, sauntering off towards the four troopers.

From their side, the Batch watched on in disgust as you sat in Fives’ arms losing yourself in laughter. He hoisted you over his shoulder, bouncing you a couple of times for show, before setting you back on your feet.

"Show off," Hunter muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes as he turned from the spectacle. He gestured to his brothers with a brisk nod. "C'mon lads, let’s head inside." Despite the order, Tech, Wrecker, and Crosshair remained firmly in place as Jesse approached, his presence igniting further irritation.

A guttural growl rumbled from Crosshair as Jesse closed in, his tone playful yet provocative. "You're not heading out so soon, are you, fellas?" He jerked a thumb back in your direction, his grin sharp. "You’re missing all the fun over here."

“Oh goody.” Crosshair angled a mean smile at him, placing a toothpick between his lips. “Tell me, are all regs as dull as you?”

Maintaining his composure, Jesse leaned in slightly, his confidence unshaken. “With her smiling like that, I can’t say I’m too worried about being dull. We always kept her smiling. In fact, most nights with us ended with her being happy.” He casually rested a hand on his hip, his smirk widening. “Guess you fellas are only good with clankers.”

Tech, standing next to Crosshair, frowned deeply, his eyes flicking between the men of the 501st and you. His voice was sharp, clinical. “What exactly are you insinuating?”

Before Jesse could reply, Wrecker pushed forward, his massive frame towering as he stepped between his brothers. His voice was deep and menacing, each word dripping with threat., “Yeah, what are you in-sin-ua-ting?”

Jesse stepped closer, meeting the challenge and smirking up at the large clone. “I’m saying, we must’ve been doing something you aren't.” His gaze briefly flickering over to where you were mingling with others, finally realizing where Jesse had strayed off to. While he could, Jesse snuck in one more jab. “Guess Echo didn’t tell you everything. We were more than a squad to her.”

The implication ripped a growl from Crosshair, but before he could escalate the situation, your warm voice broke the tension. “You wouldn’t be causing trouble now, would you, Jesse?”

Jesse turned toward you with a feigned innocence, his chuckle light. “Of course not,” he replied smoothly. “Just catching them up on the old days.” As he clapped a hand on your shoulder and gave it a playful shake, he threw in, “Speaking of which, why don’t you bunk with us tonight, Shorty? It’ll be just like old times.”

His use of your nickname in front of your squad heated your face. From the noise Crosshair made, you were going to have trouble living that down.

With a laugh, you rolled his hand off your shoulder, your tone light but firm. “Oh, I don’t think so. I actually need to get some sleep.” You poked a finger into Jesse’s chest plate playfully yet pointedly. “Which I’m sure wouldn’t happen with your lot around.”

Wrecker's eyebrows flew up as he shot a look at Hunter, who wore a similarly stunned expression. They were just beginning to catch glimpses of your unfiltered self, and while they had suspected the men of the 501st were trying to rile them up, they never dreamt of the level of intimacy you just admitted to.

Seeing you banter so comfortably with the regs, with laughter and playful jabs, left the Batch glowering. For the first time in their lives, they were truly jealous of these regs. They were getting used to being the closest to you, the ones you leaned on during missions, and this unexpected side of you—closer with regs than them—struck a chord.

“Let’s go, lads.” Hunter ordered with a firmness that turned your head. You knew your squad was on edge with the regs, but Hunter sounded almost angry. He left without another word and his brothers trailed behind shortly after. Crosshair was the last to leave, flicking his toothpick past Jesse, barely missing his face.

Watching them retreat to the makeshift barracks adjacent to the 501st’s, you turned to Jesse, your expression one of exasperation. "What did you do?" you demanded.

Jesse put his hands up innocently, saying, “Not my fault your squad doesn’t like to share.”

Share? Weighing the worth of further questioning him against checking in with the Batch, you grumbled in frustration and pointed a warning finger at your former squadmate, “You’re just as bad.” Not allowing him to get under your skin as well you made for your barracks. 

You walked in on the Batch quietly conversing, standing around Wrecker as he sat on a bottom bunk. Out of the lot, Tech and Wrecker turned slightly to see you walking in their direction. You gave a little wave as you neared. The conversation fell silent the nearer you got, widening your nervous smile. They are not happy, you inwardly groaned

Attempting to break the tension you said in a light tone, “Can’t believe we’re actually sleeping in the barracks.” Pulling up to the corner of Wrecker’s bunk, you leaned against the post, arms crossed. “Echo will be pleasantly surprised.”

Crosshair snorted, “It fits. He’s full of surprises.” His odd response, again, pinched your brows.

Widening your eyes and raising your brows in the awkward moment, you flared your fingers out around your arms. “Well, I’ll just pick a bunk.”

You pushed off the bunk only for Wrecker to catch you by the elbow and tug you into his lap, teetering on his thigh, with a hand at the small of your back.

You twisted in your spot to smile at Wrecker, who was looking unexpectedly bashful. “What’s all this?” They boys had only recently started toeing past physical boundaries, this was a bit of a jump for them. Further trying to dissipate the tension, you rocked into Wrecker with your hip. “Scared of sleeping alone suddenly?”

Wrecker swallowed hard, his eyes darting briefly to his brothers as if seeking support or reassurance.

Maintaining a polite, albeit confused, smile you followed his line of sight.. While Tech kept his nose in his datapad, Crosshair stepped up next to Hunter, prompting the Sergeant to step forward and take a knee in front of you.

Hunter's gaze was heavy as he took a deep breath, then slowly lifted his eyes to meet yours. The intensity there caused you to catch and hold your breath, something going taut between you.

"We've been thinking," Hunter began, his voice cautious, as if testing the waters. His hand gently came to rest over your knee, his touch causing you to straighten instinctively, pressing you further into Wrecker’s lap. Until then, you had almost forgotten your position with Wrecker, but his large hand then settled more firmly around your waist.

The dual sensation of their touches sent a shiver through you, a subtle tremble that Wrecker evidently felt too, eliciting a soft, strained noise from him.

“There’s something we’d like to do for you.” Hunter smiled, his hand sliding north of your knee.

You went stock still, eyes blown wide as Hunter leaned in. You shot a look at Crosshair to find him twirling a toothpick between his fingers with a satisfied smile. Next to him, Tech caught your eyes. Where Hunter’s eyes had stilled you, Tech’s thrilled you. You were happy to be seated with Wrecker, because having Tech’s full attention made you feel weak.

“What’s that?” You asked, voice just above a whisper, as you broke away from Tech to find Hunter still watching you. You heart jumped into your throat when Hunter’s thumb smoothed over your inner thigh.

“Have you ever thought about-” Hunter paused, clearing his throat to cover up his hesitation. Slowly and calmly he started again, “Have you ever thought about spending the night with us?”

“I already-”

“Think a little harder.” Crosshair cut you off with an amused tune. Your eyes snapped to Crosshair and, somehow, the arrogance in his stance filled you in on Hunter’s meaning. Heat flared through you, flushing your face so quickly you knew even your ears were red. 

On more than one occasion you’d found release lost in the fantasy of being the center of their attention. Every time you witnessed them sans armor you had to manually breathe through professionalism.

Again you looked to Hunter, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth with a slow nod. Hunter dipped his head, hiding the way his smile widened. Barely lifting his head, he chuffed and followed up with, “Would you like to spend tonight with us?” 

You were able to swallow the whine in your throat enough to nod another affirmative. Hunter opened his mouth but was interrupted by Tech.

“That will not suffice.” Both you and Hunter looked to Tech for clarification. Tech adjusted his goggles but shook his head. “If this is something you want, you will need to agree to what we are asking verbally.” Your legs squeezed together at Tech’s stern tone.

You felt Hunter’s gaze shift back to you, but you eyes were trained on Tech. A smile, wobbly and excited, fluttered over your lips. “Yes,” Heat pooled between your legs, you squirmed in Wrecker’s lap, and you said. “I want to spend the night the night with you guys.”

Wrecker’s other hand found your side, firming his grip to hold you in place. He laughed through his nerves, “Watch it with that.”

Suddenly, you became very aware of where you were seated in his lap. Pushed back over his knee, just an inch or so from his crotch. If you twisted even the slightest you’d pressed him. With intent, you carefully turned into him to offer a smile. As Wrecker groaned against the pressure of your leg you offered a half-assed apology. 

Wrecker took one look at you and crashed his lips into yours. A moment of shock hit you before your started moving against him, melting into the feel of his tongue against yours. When Wrecker leaned you back and deepened the kiss, a little needy noise escaped you 

It was enough for Crosshair to kick Wrecker’s foot.  “Ease up.” Crosshair. Wrecker did indeed ease up, breaking the kiss and leaving you dazed and panting in his eyes.

“Sorry,” He chuckled, lifting a thumb to wipe your lips dry. “Got a lil excited there.”

All you could manage was a hum as he righted you in his lap. Hunter tilted his head back, his smile turning into a challe, “You sure wanna do this?”

You answered by sliding from Wrecker’s knee onto his, slipping your arms around his neck, and stopping just as your lips hovered over his. Lightly squeezing his thigh between yours, you said on a breath. “I’ll only say it once more. I want this.” Grinding onto him, you added. “Badly.”

Catching his lips in a slow kiss, you moved with his hands as they found your hips and pressed you harder onto his knee. With every brush of your clit against him, an ache, hot and desperate, grew in your core. The sound of shuffling armor only reached you as Hunter tapped your thigh, easing you back into reality. “Let’s get you out of those clothes.”

Eager to continue as quickly as possible, you bounced off of Hunter’s knee to make quick work of your attire. By the time you were down to your underthings they were all down to their blacks in some way. Tech’s was still zipped up, Crosshair and Hunter had theirs stripped to the waist, and Wrecker was stepping out of his. 

Just the sight of them fully dressed was enough to fluster you, finally seeing them bare made you feel downright feral. 

Wrecker stepped over to you, his already erect cock swaying with him. Your mouth went dry at his size, though it was fitting for a man of his stature. He tilted his head with a grin and gestured for the bunk behind you.

As you sat, you came face to face with his massive member before he dropped to a knee. The idea of taking him first, after not having anyone for a long time, thrilled you as much as it intimidated you. A warm body pressed against your back as a pair of long legs, still dressed in black, appeared on either side of you.

Wrecker hooked his fingers into your panties and pulled them off as Tech, in a low tone, said into your ear, “He’s going to warm you up.” 

The chill his voice sent through you hit at the same time Wrecker’s tongue slid over you. Arching into Tech, you whined as Wrecker picked up a steady pace of long flat licks that ended with covering your clit with his mouth. 

Tech wormed a hand between your bodies to discard your bra and give him access to your chest. Gloved hands cupped around your breasts, gently tracing the shape of them before rolling your nipples between his fingers.

Your entire body tensed as Tech played with your nipples. From between your legs, Wrecker chuckled as he slid his middle finger into you, “Oh, she likes that.” The ache Hunter had ignited grew as Wrecker kissed and sucked on your clit while working his finger into you.

“Is it true that you enjoy this?” Tech asked, applying more pressure as you writhed against him.

“Yes,” You barely managed to pant as you quickly reached your peak. “I do, I do, I-”

As you tightened around Wrecker’s finger, he suddenly broke away from you, leaving you empty and at the painful edge of release. “Not yet.” Wrecker left a kiss on your inner thigh as you grabbed to pull him back, only stopped by Tech holding you against him.

“Not yet.” Tech repeated sternly, again stilling you with his voice in your ear.

Wrecker stood as Tech slid out from behind you. Wrecker took his place, positioning you on top of his lap to spread your knees with his. Taking his finger, still wet with you, he traced your slit all the way to your ass. You were starting to tense at the sensation when Wrecker cooed as he slid his finger into you. “Don’t worry, I gotcha.”

Spread wide as Wrecker fingered you, Hunter could see how badly you ached to be filled. With each stroke of Wrecker’s finger, you visibly clenched. Hunter finally released the length of him when you pressed a hand over your mouth to restrain a moan.

Crosshair stepped in to pull your hand away, letting the tail end of your noises loose. “They could hear.” You whined louder than you wanted.

Crosshair held your face in his hand, angling you to face him. With a hand braced on the top bunk, Crosshair leaned down to your eye level. Sucking on a tooth, he smirked as his eyes roamed your writhing form. Meeting your gaze again he gave you a gentle shake as he practically purred, “Then let’s give them something to listen to.”

He’d distracted you enough that Hunter’s sliding into between your legs startled you. Crosshair released your face when Hunter’s cock made contact with you. You leaned forward for a glimpse of him. His swollen head slid over you until he brushed up passed your clit. Precum leaked from him and slid down to mix with your own wetness. Hunter traced you a few times before he tipped your chin up. 

Lined up with you, Hunter asked, “Ready?” Wrecker buried his finger in you as they both waited for your answer.

“Hunter, please.” You quickly whined, bracing your hand on his shoulders, truly desperate to be filled with him.

Hunter leaned in and rolled his hips into you, slowly breaching you until he was completely inside. “You feel,” Huntered groaned, “So good.” As he started pulling out, Wrecker timed his fingers with him. 

Standing within reach of you, Crosshair pulled himself free of his blacks as he watched on. Your attention only pulled away from where you and Hunter were joined when you caught sight of Crosshair stroking himself.

Your noises grew in volume as the Hunter and Wrecker filled you over and over. Only a few strokes in and your toes were already curlling. Feeling your sudden grip, Hunter fully sheathed himself in you as Wrecker left you empty.

“You good?” Hunter asked in a strained voice as he throbbed within you.

You nodded, a blissful smile flashing over you. “Really good.” 

Beneath you, Wrecker squirmed to reposition himself, even raising you out of his way as he did. You heard Wrecker spit but couldn’t tell what on. Hunter pulled you against him for support as Wrecker pressed up against your ass and slid over its entrance. You tried to whip around but Hunter held you firm. 

Pressing a kiss into your neck, Hunter mumbled, “Tell us to stop and we will.”

While Wrecker waited, throbbing against you, Hunter lightly rocked his hips, moving just enough to rub into your cervix. You watched Crosshair’s head angle to get a view of your ass, then your heaving chest, before settling back on your eyes. He continued stroking himself, smirk growing as a needy expression flooded you. 

You swallowed hard when precum spilled out of Crosshair’s cock. “Keep going.” You moaned, granting Wrecker the permission to pull you down onto him. Your body went taught when the flare of his glans pushed past your threshold. Inhaling, you whined and waited for more of Wrecker.

You only waited a second longer before you were grinding yourself over him, not only taking more of Wrecker but grinding farther onto Hunter. “That’s a good girl.” Wrecker sighed happily as he leaned back on one hand and supported your ass as you moved over him. 

The two of them had you completely filled, stretching you in a way that made you see stars. You knew you’d never be the same after feeling this. Hunter angled your hips enough that each thrust pushed into your G-spot. Each of their thrusts had you whimpering louder as you felt the ache in your core tighten.

Giving your ass cheek a firm grasp, Wrecker’s head fall back in ecstacy. It took everything in him to not move faster and push harder into you. He wanted to feel you make you come completely undone around him, break apart for him even, but he sat back and let you pleasure yourself on him.

Eyes still on Crosshair, you extended an open hand to him, urging him closer. The sniper snorted but obliged you, giving you full access to his body. Resting back on Wrecker, you let Hunter take over the rhythm as you pulled Crosshair closer. 

Swiping a thumb over Crosshair’s slit, his precum spilled over you. Crosshair ran a hand over your hair and around to your jawline. “Of course that’s not enough for you,” Crosshair mused. His cock, thick in your hand, had a small patch of silver hair at its base you brushed as you pumped your hand over him.

Each deliberate move of your hand challenged Crosshair’s composure. He clenched his jaw to hide the pleasure he felt. His resolve cracked as his eyes fluttered and he leaned in to your grasp.

The rare sight of Crosshair’s softened features made you whimper and writhe in Hunter’s hold. Your tightening grip rushed Hunter to his limit. He rested his forehead in the crook of your neck. “Mesh’la, keep doing that and I won’t last much longer.” 

Allowing himself a few shallow thrusts, Wrecker groaned, “I’m right there too.” He’d barely gotten the words out when Wrecker groaned loudly, pumping hard into you as he throbbed and lost control.

Hunter picked up his pace until he quickly pulled out and, a second later, coated you in cum. His hips kept rocking against you, rubbing over your clit and fueling the ache in your core. “Right there, right there.” You encouraged him as he kept moving over you until completely emptied himself. 

With Wrecker still throbbing inside you, paired with the sudden pressure on your clit, your orgasm hit you hard. It wracked your body until your legs quivered. Fucked into an euphoric state, you leaned towards Crosshair, still aching for pleasure. You’d never dreamt this would be a reality and you were quickly becoming greedy. 

“Easy now,” Wrecker murmured and, as gently as he could, eased out of you. Without him and Hunter, you felt emptier than ever before. 

Hunter scooted back enough to sit back on his knees, panting and pushing his hair back out of his face. He watched as Wrecker pressed a kiss to your shoulder and helped you crawl over his legs to face Crosshair.

Prying your mouth open with a thumb, Crosshair hummed down to you, “If you want a taste, you better do it quickly.” A chill ran down your spine as Crosshair pulled you by your mouth, guiding you to the tip of his cock. 

You stuck your tongue out to swirl around his head. He hissed as you eagerly took him into your mouth, bobbing over him and swiping your tongue side to side as you did. As promised, Crosshair only allowed you a small taste of him before pulling you off him.

He knelt to your eye level, crouching on the balls of his feet, to ask, “Do you want more?” 

Your brows pulled together and a lazy smile lifted your lips. “I want you, Crosshair.”

Crosshair stilled for a moment, something striking a chord in him. His eyes quickly scanned yours before he caught your lips in a fast, hurried kiss. He broke the kiss just enough to murmur against your lips, “On your knees.”

The sniper helped you to your feet and got you onto the neighboring bunk. He guided you onto your hands and knees, facing his brothers. There was no teasing nor dragging out the moment. No, Crosshair immediately lined himself up with you, leaned over to cage you in his arms, and whispered, “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.” 

In one smooth thrust, Crosshair buried himself inside of you, immediately taking up a steady pace as he fucked you into the bunk. Crosshair draped himself over you, sneaking a hand around you and right to the apex of your thighs. 

“Incoming.” Tech chimed from across the room. 

Crosshair held you in place as the barracks door swooshed open and Echo walked in. A drop of panic hit your stomach when Echo’s sweeping look found you. Confused, horror overtook the cyborg and as he hurried over.

Nearly stumbling over Hunter, still regaining his composure on the floor, Echo ripped around to you. “Crosshair, what do you think you are doing?!”

Crosshair pushed off of you, straightening to posture over you and face Echo. Using your hips as leverage, Crosshair slowed his pace and confidently answered, “Whatever what she wants.”

Echo’s expression went stunned as he knelt in front of you. Slightly dazed, flushed, and cum covered, you tucked your face into the mattress in a rush of embarrassment. Still, you whined each time Crosshair’s hips hit yours. 

Echo reached a concerned hand out, encouraging you to lift yourself again. His eyes searched yours, but you were too far gone to do anything but reach for the man in front of you. You ran your hand as far down Echo’s torso as you could and turned to press a kiss into his palm. “Echo.” His name came out on a moan that brought heat to his cheeks. 

“Looks like there is something else she wants.” Crosshair chuckled behind you. He leaned back over you, bringing his mouth to your ear but holding Echo’s stare. “Why don’t you tell Echo what you want?”

You could barely think through Crosshair’s relentless thrusting and the rhythm of his fingers. “Echo.” His eyes slid to you to catch you kissing his hand again. “I want to taste you.” Licking the length of his hand, you wrapped your mouth around his forefinger.

Echo had been growing hard from the moment he saw your bare skin until the softness of your mouth got him instantly hard. Glancing between you, Echo kept an eye on the hand still reaching for him and slowly brought his hips to meet your touch.

As you pried off his codpiece with one hand, Echo assisted in pulling himself out of his underlayer. 

You pulled Echo by his thigh so that he overshadowed your face. Starting at his base, where his balls met his shaft, you flattened your tongue and ran it up the length of him. Reaching his tip, you steadied him with your hand. 

Echo mumbled under a grunt as you moved your mouth over him, “Oh, stars.” 

The taste of Echo narrowed your focus on him, seeking to hear his pleasure. When Crosshair heard your own muffled moans, felt them with his chest against your back, he lifted off you. He traced a finger down your spine, feeling you arch into his touch as he went.

Echo was still adjusting to the reality he’d walked into when you started working your hand in tandom with your mouth. His hand flew to your head, his fingers threading into your hair. He couldn’t help himself as he kept his hand firm and met your rhythm with his own. You slackened into him as he pushed against the back of your throat.

The way you twitched around Crosshair, pulled a moan from him. Sensing your little struggle as you tried to take more of Echo, Crosshair again reached for your clit. “Relax.” He whispered as his hand made lazy circles around you.

Sliding off of Echo you swallowed and looked up to find him watching you with wide eyes and mouth slightly open. You didn’t look away as you opened wider and took him into your mouth. With a deep breath you relaxed as best you could and pushed him to the back of your throat. Moaning around him you pressed on until you felt him squeeze down your throat.

A moan, breathless and low, finally escaped Echo and he held you fast against him. The sounds you’d worked so hard for twisted that familiar ache in your core. Your eyes watered against the pressure as his cock twitched in your throat. You tasted him spilling inside you as he came undone. 

Crosshair grunted, shuddering as you clenched down on him. Unwilling to finish before you did, Crosshair focused his touch on your clit into light, fast strokes.

You tapped Echo repeatedly until he pulled his softening cock out of you. Gasping for air your fell onto your elbows, head hanging over the side of the bunk. Face down, ass up you sounded on the verge of tears as you warbled, “Cross, I can’t. I’m gonna-”

His thrusts become long, slow, and angled right into the soft spot inside you. “Go on then.” Crosshair urged you on. “We all want to hear you.”

The low tone of his voice finished you. Your eyes rolled back and you cried out as you lost yourself in Crosshair’s hold. He continued pushing you through your release as long as he could until Crosshair had to pull out. Gripping your hips tight, he thrust one final time against you and sent ropes of his cum down your back. In the throws of his own pleasure, his groans matched yours in volume.

It took a few moments for your both to settle back into the present. Your legs were so weak that you were at Crosshair’s mercy to keep you upright. He felt you relax and sag into his him, prompting him to gently lay you to rest on your side. He brushed your hair out of your face, letting you look up at him without moving your head.

He watched you pant a second longer, swallowed and asked, “You okay?”

A little smile came to you. You coughed out an affirmative hum, and warmly croaked, “More than okay.”

Echo came around to your side, looking over you with concern. “What can we do?”

“Relax.” Hunter, already half dressed, came behind Echo and gestured casually towards another area. “Tech’s on it.” His gaze softened as he smiled down at you over Echo’s shoulder. “You really are something.”

His praise sent a wave of warmth through you, though you could only muster a pleasant hum in response, your energy still recovering.

“Tech’s gonna help you get cleaned up. That okay with you?” Hunter waved someone, presumably Tech, over. 

Taking a deep breath, you raised onto your elbow. Tech was indeed inbound carrying some supplies and still full dressed. Suddenly you felt as bare as you were. You couldn’t look away, but gave Hunter the nod he and Crosshair needed to step away.

“C’mon boys, let’s give her some privacy.”

Echo looked you over once more, nodded and followed his brothers lead.

Soon it was just you and Tech in the quiet. For most of what happened, you’d lost track of Tech. Who had, by the looks of it, had steered completely clear of the scene.

Tech settled down next to you, placing a stack of necessities beside your head—clothes, towels, all topped with a bowl of water. You pushed yourself up to a sitting position with one hand, inspecting the items he had brought. “Thank you,” you mumbled shyly, the simple kindness in his preparation bringing some softness you very much needed.

“Sit up.” Tech instructed as he brought the water closer. You followed his order, positioning yourself with your back slightly turned. Looking over your shoulder, you watched Tech dip a small towl in the water before bringing it to your shoulder.

The towel was cool against your flushed skin. Jumping you said through a chill, “That’s cold, Tech.”

“You do not want warm water for this.” Tech said matter-of-factly. “Heat will denature the proteins in the se-”

“Oh! I didn’t know that.” You said quickly, cutting him off while also doing terrible job at covering your embarassment.

Tech rotated between wiping your back and ringing out the towel. When silence again fell over you, Tech asked softly. “Are you in any pain?”

You thought for a moment, doing a mental sweep of your body, and replied, “No, I’m okay.” You squeezed your eyes shut hearing yourself stuttering your words.

Tech immediately questioned you again, “Are you having regrets?”

You flinched to turn around, but kept your back to him. “No.” You replied softly. It went quiet again as Tech did a final swipe of your back.

“Now turn around.” Tech swapped out the towel for a fresh one as you slowly turned to face him. 

Again, Tech dampened the cloth and brought it to your skin, the cool touch hitching your breath. As his hands carefully wiped your skin, he observed your slow, controlled breathing. His eyes darted to yours. 

“You are uncharacteristically silent.” Tech noted bluntly with no follow up theory as to why.

Shoving your nerves to a manageable level, you blurted out, “Why didn’t you join?”

Tech’s hand stilled, but he kept your gaze for a beat. Moving to dampen the towel, he followed it with his eyes. He shrugged, saying, “Not really my thing.”

Your stomach dropped at his simple dismissal. Under your breath you said, “Oh.” 

You kept watching Tech as he brought the towel back to your chest. When it came time to wipe your breast, Tech found your gaze again. He flattened his hand under the cloth and ran his whole hand over your breast, his thumb catching on your nipple.

A brazen surg hit you and you pushed, “So, I’m not really your thing?”

Tech pulled back slightly with his hand wiping you. Raising a brow he asked cautiously, “My thing?”

Despite slightly regretting your line of questioning, your fingers fidgeted together as you clarified, “As in, you’re not interested in being with me.”

His wariness faded as he focused back on his work, again rinsing the towel. “That… is not entirely accurate.” He lowered the towel down between your breasts to your stomach. He wore a cocky smile as he said, “Besides, something such as after care requires a more delicate touch.”

You caught his hand before he made it to your navel. “Then what would be entirely accurate?”

Tech looked up through his goggles, his lip pulling to the side as he weighed what to say next. He wanted to make sure he was indeed being entirely accurate as he confessed, “I’m not interested in being with you in the company of others.”

His insinuation caught you off guard. Sitting a little more upright, your angled your head for a better view of those brown eyes. “So… you do want me?”

Tech’s head sagged slightly as he deadpanned. “Well, of course I do.” In your surprise, you released Tech’s hand and allowed him to finish wiping you down.

Steeling yourself against the warmth following his touch, you prodded further, “What if it was just you and I?”

Missing the subtlety behind you question, Tech simply replied, “That would be different for me.”

“It’s just you and I now, Tech,” You reminded him, voice barely above a whisper.

He was mid rinse when he heard you. The thought caused him to pause only for a moment before he wrung the towel out and turned back to you. Tech didn’t move to touch you. Instead, he muttered, “I did consider that, but I was not certain such an arrangment would interest you.”

Unable to let the chance pass, you grabbed Tech’s wrist again and flat out admitting, “It very much interests me.”

His attention fell to your hold on him for a moment. Gently he pulled out of your hand, moving the cool towel between your legs. Leaning closer as the fabric met your skin, Tech asked, “Does it interest you right now?”

“Well, of course it does.” You repeated his words in an impression of him. He hadn’t anticipated the sudden playfulness in your voice, but it brought a small smile to Tech.

Carefully, he wiped you clean, noting the movement in your face as he found every sensitive bit. When he was satisifed with his work, Tech set all the items he brought on the floor. He sat in front of you, one leg over the side of the bunk, and adjusted his goggles as he took in the full view of you. “You are beautiful," He marveled.

You got to your knees and scooted closer. With bated breath you asked what you've wanted to for weeks, “Can I kiss you?”

Tech blinked once, then twice before responding, “Given the circumstances, that wouldn’t be unwarranted.” There was a hint of sarcasm in his voice that forced a smile from you.

Your reaction pulled a mirrored smile from Tech that had crawling into his lap. With no restraint, you moved in to kiss him. Pecking him with feverish kisses, Tech quickly relaxed into your rhythm to deepen the sensation. It seemed he'd been waiting just as long as you.

His hands slid around to your back and tugged you against him. You held Tech’s face in your hands and ran your tongue across his bottom lip. It took little coaxing for Tech to give you access to his mouth, eagerly meeting your tongue with his.

You sat intertwined, blissfully lost in the taste of each other and comfortable in each other’s hold. Tech hardened beneath you and the angle your were sat on Tech had your crotch directly against his. The realization hit you both at the same time as started moving against one another.

The friction of his blacks made the pressure between your legs that much more mind numbing. Moaning into your kiss, you retreated a fraction with Tech chasing your lips. “Get out of this.” You managed to say.

Tech straightened himself while keeping you in his lap and his mouth on yours. Without breaking away from you, he peeled out of his blacks. Only when he couldn’t budge them farther did Tech pull away. You both were desperate for air, but more desperate for each other.

Dodging Tech’s hands, you helped him the rest of the way out of the clothing and hurried back into his lap. Tech leaned back against the bed post when you were saddled on top of him. With Tech’s assistance you raised yourself over him. The natural curve of his cock allowed you to line up with him without your hands. 

You tried to lower yourself, but Tech’s hand on your ass held you in place. “May I record this?”

Without question you nodded. After he tapped the side of his goggles, he returned your nod and released his hold on you. 

As soon as he eased up you sunk onto him. The sudden fullness of him immediately brightening your smile. Tech firmed his grip on your back, pulling you and your clit against his abdomen. “I’d like you to start slow.”

You gave in to his request, supporting yourself on his shoulders as you patiently rolled your hips. He had you pressed against him in a way that constantly stimulated you, sending more warmth between your legs. When he felt what it did to you, heard his name on your tongue, he started moving beneath you, saying almost in warning, “I’m going to move faster.”

Tech was stronger than you'd imagined, effortlessly sliding you over him and thrusting into you from below. The pace at which you moved against each other, completely intertwined, quickly sent you into delirium. He pressed against you in every way, against the walls of your pussy and the ache in your clit. By the grip you had on Tech, there was no hiding your rising ecstasy.

“That-” Tech grunted out, leaning you further so you were completely against him. “Must feel good.” His tone was confident, arrogant even and it made you want to fuck him until he couldn’t speak.

Still, your new position gave Tech the leverage he needed to find your G-spot. As he grazed it, you cried out his name, encouraging him to maintain that specific angle. “Tech! Keep going right there, please.” Your encouragement ended in pleading.

Doing exactly as you asked, Tech held you in place and drilled into you. Keeping a careful, steady rhythm that in moments took you right to the edge of an orgasm and shoved you right over.

You couldn’t speak as you shook in Tech’s arms. Every inch of you quaked as a softer wave of heat spread through you. Lolling against Tech, he held you close and he rocked you both forward.

Still seated inside you, Tech rested you onto your back with your legs hooked behind him. Turning your cheek with a kiss, Tech exposed your neck. He pumped into you while he trailed kisses to your ear.

“This is the only way I’ll have you.” Tech purred into your ear. You locked your ankles and pulled Tech deeper inside you. Tech noticably throbbed and chuckled softly, “That is not going to help me last.”

You used your legs as leverage to move over him, humming, “Good, I don’t want you to.”

Tech pulled back to flash you smirk. “In that case…” He rested a elbow by your head, held you by your waist and pulled out to thrust back into you. “I’m already close. You need to tell me where you want me.”

Feeling him deep inside you made it an easy decision. You pressed him with another kiss as you said, “Inside.”

Tech rocked hard into you, thoroughly filling you as he came inside you. The two of you settled into each other, spent and panting through mutual trembling. 

“Well,” Tech took a deep breath and pushed up over you. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

After all the heat died down and you were all in fresh clothes, you laid out on your cot with an arm over your eyes. In their respective cots, Crosshair and Echo lounged on the edge of sleep while Wrecker and Hunter and Tech were quietly chatting.

Before the night ended you had one last relentless question.

Popping up on an elbow, you looked towars the still awake men. “Hunter?” You singled out the leader. Once you caught his eye you asked, “What caused all that?” The silence that fell pulled a suspicious smile from you.

With his back to you, Crosshair snorted, broadening your smile. You laughed and asked again, “What?” 

Wrecker groaned, rolling his head back. “It was the regs.”

Echo immediately perked up, twisting to exchange a look with you. “What about them?” Echo asked warily.

Hunter sighed, “Jesse told us about how they used to…” He took a deep breath and rolled his hand as he continued, “Make you happy, let’s say.”

“And Echo knew.” Wrecker grumbled.

“Wait-” You and Echo tried interjecting, but Tech cut in.

“Not to mention you said how you wouldn’t get any sleep with them.”

When the dots connected for you, you covered your mouth, hung open, with a hand but couldn’t back the laugh that bubbled out of you. 

From his cot, Echo covered his face with a groan, “Oh, no.”

Even Crosshair now sat up, exchanging confused looks with Tech, Wrecker, and Hunter.

Crosshair glanced at you and with an annoyed undertone he asked, “What?” He clearly did not like being on the outside of whatever you and Echo knew.

You shook your head and couldn’t fully answer through your laughter. “I never…”

Echo waved his prosthetic in the direction of the wall shared with the 501st. “We never did any of that. Jesse was just getting under your skin.” He groaned again, looking upwards and  begging the Force for help. Gesturing in your direction he added, “And we wouldn’t get any sleep because they’d never stop yapping.”

You took deep breaths to settle down as Crosshair started chuckling. 

“In retrospect, that is the more plausible option.” Tech said, shocked Jesse got the better of him. 

Collapsing on your bunk, you called out warmly, “For the record, I am much happier as a part of this squad.”

Crosshair got the last word in, scoffing the last of his humor away, “Better be.”

taglist: @bruh-myguy-what @baddest-batchers @psychrebel I hope specifically hope this makes you happy

𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕖𝕒𝕥 ⋆*･ﾟ𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕓𝕒𝕕 𝕓𝕒𝕥𝕔𝕙

➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ᴏʀᴀʟ ꜱᴇx, ᴄᴜɴɴɪʟɪɴɢᴜꜱ, ꜰᴀᴄᴇ-ꜱɪᴛᴛɪɴɢ, ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴏʀᴀʟ ꜰɪxᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ɪɴ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴛꜱ

⋆ ★ ɢᴇɴᴜɪɴᴇʟʏ ɪᴅʀᴋ. ɪ ᴡʀᴏᴛᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴ ᴏɴᴇ ꜱɪᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ᴛᴀɴɴɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴛꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜰɪʟᴛʜ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴍʏ ᴍɪɴᴅ ᴘʟᴏᴘᴘᴇᴅ ᴏɴᴛᴏ ʜᴇʀᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ. ʜᴀᴠᴇ ꜰᴜɴ

➼ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ

⋆ ★ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3 ⋆*･ﾟ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀᴍ

Hunter - Actively drowns himself

Hunter thinks the best place he could ever be is buried deep into your cunt. He loves the feeling of every jerk of your legs, every single fold and crevice of your sex. Even then he feels like it isn’t enough, and presses himself to you so adamantly and for so long he leaves with his entire face drenched.

I’ve expressed before that his nose is a clit tickler and I still stand by that. He presses against it while he lets his tongue fuck into your hole, letting out heavy breaths that make you sigh and twitch against his face.

He wants everything from you. Wants you whining and bucking into him. Groans into your cunt “C’mon pretty, give it to me. Let me have it, oh, let me give you this,” when he’s making you reach your peak.

Tech - Treats it like a scientific experiment

There’s a method to making you orgasm thoroughly and pleasurably, Tech has discovered, and as a man of logic, it wouldn’t be correct to treat pleasuring you any differently than he does other situations.

The first time you let him between your legs, Tech takes his time to thoroughly take you in, and he collects his observations, infers what might make you cum the hardest, the fastest, and soon after he begins to run his “experiments.”

He concludes quickly that it’s all about the combinations of stimulation and how they’re applied, how hard or gently he sucks your clit in his mouth while his fingers probe your entrance, the speed of his index and middle pumping into you while his tongue gently licks around your folds. Tech won’t rest until he’s figured out everything that makes you click and cum.

Wrecker - Wants to be your chair

If you think Hunter is messy about how he eats your pussy, you haven’t seen Wrecker yet. This boy wants to be so roughed up and drenched you’ll be in need of a shower before he even gets his cock wet.

And he wants you to sit. Not hover, not squat, sit. You may express insecurities or worries of hurting him at first, but Wrecker is extremely adamant it’ll all be alright. I mean, come on. The man is huge, and any worry of crushing him is gone the instant he grabs onto your hips and situates you right on him.

Wrecker is incredibly eager when he laps at your cunt, tongue and fingers reaching any place he can, encouraging you to move and grind all over him so you can get your fill. If he gets your spend dripping down his chin and trailing down his neck, that just means hes given you and you’ve given him everything you can feasibly give, and he can wipe it away with a pussy drunk look on his face before asking if he can make you come again.

Crosshair - Does it more for himself than you

You could reasonably argue that Crosshair likes eating you out more than you like getting eaten out. This man craves it like he’s addicted, forever hooked on your taste, your body, every twitch and sigh and slight movement of your body forever ingrained in his mind.

Somehow, despite giving, he manages to be selfish. Crosshair is groaning into you, whispering things he knows you can’t hear because hes talking to himself (or your cunt). Even through that, he makes it good for you; being selfish doesn’t mean it won’t be enjoyable for the receiving party. If he’s slow and thorough about it (which rarely happens) he can make you see stars with the gentlest of pets. But usually, you come fast and hard. And no matter what, he makes you feel good.

Echo - Slowly but surely

Echo is probably one of, if not, the most romantic when it comes to eating you out. He doesn’t want you to do any work; “Don’t grind your hips, sweetheart. I’ve got it. Just feel good for me.”

Giving is something he feels is necessary to show his love and appreciation in the bedroom, so he wants you to lie back and let him make you fall apart at his own pace. And Maker do you fall apart.

Echo knows every single rhythm with his licks and pumps and sucks, every pattern he could follow that will make you feel so good your eyes are brimmed with tears once you do finally finish. But he’s quick to rise up and kiss them away, whispering little nothings while his hand traces the curves of your body, easing you back down from the high.

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