#feral for clones

[stellarbit]

Unexpected Scenes

Word Count: 4.4k Pairing: fem!reader x Tech (with a side of simp Hunter oops) Warnings: unprotected piv, masturbating, voyeurism, creampie, self indulgence, simp hunter, poor proof reading Summary: Hunter is well aware of your relations with Tech, but it doesn't stop him from fantasizing about you - something Tech can sense and isn't happy about. He wasn't going to say anything about it, but things happen. a/n : save me simp hunter, save me. I don't have excuses I just have self indulgent fantasies. gif credit: @kamino-coruscant

Hunter’s speciality was sensing that which could not be seen. Whereas Tech’s was analyzing the visible without missing a single variable. Meaning, as subtle as it was,  Hunter’s interest in you did not go unnoticed by Tech. 

A variable that was irritating Tech.

While the brothers of Clone Force 99 accepted their fate of sharing most of life with one another, they all had things they kept for themselves. Recently, Tech was keeping you to himself.

Not in the sense that your interactions were isolated to him, but in the way that he knew a side of you the others didn’t. A condition he wanted to maintain for the foreseeable future. 

Emotionally, he delved deeper with you than he had with anyone outside of his circle. Physically, you’d allowed him to experience ecstasy for the first time. While it was an exhilarating experience and an activity he didn’t regret, he found he was just as content exchanging quiet conversation with you. Perhaps moreso.

Although he would admit that the satisfaction of bringing you to completion did swell a very male side of him. That feat is the biggest thrill for Tech. 

One that was instantly surpassed when Hunter caught Tech with his hands in your clothes. You’d failed to notice Hunter, but he watched you cumming on his brother’s fingers.

Since then, Tech kept a keen eye on Hunter’s every exchange with you. It wasn’t so much that he feared Hunter would overstep; it was more about the possessiveness that had begun to root itself deep within him.

The brothers never spoke of the instance, but Hunter’s softened approach with you and his new habit of touching the small of your back almost drove Tech to break the silence more than once.

The tipping point came when you arrived at Cid’s seeking assistance from the Batch. The Marauder was docked at the spaceport, suggesting that at least one of them should have been available to help. It turned out Tech, Echo, and Hunter were there, albeit engaged in their own activities. Echo and Tech were tucked in a booth together hunched over a datapad, and Hunter, seated at the bar with a drink, did a soft double-take as you descended the last step.

“Well, look what the tooka dragged in.” Hunter chuckled and lifted his glass to you. He caught his brother's attention, perking Tech up first. 

Tech locked eyes with you first, adjusting his goggles as a soft flutter hit his chest. He recognized the smile on your face - the one reserved just for him, small and crooked to one side. He glanced at Hunter, who was now, unfortunately, witnessing it too.

Echo twisted in his seat and hooked an elbow over the back of his chair. With a short wave of his prosthetic he called over, “Hey there, trouble. What brings you in?”

“I need to hop off world to meet a client and I was hoping one of you could come along.” You explained. “He’s someone I’d rather not be caught alone with.”

Tech was elbow deep in deciphering an imperial code with Echo, a task he was not excited to step away from. Nonetheless, he agreed you should be accompanied. Sighing, Tech made to move when Hunter responded.

Slugging his drink back, Hunter slid out of his seat, saying, “Alright then, I’ll go with you.” He waved towards the stairs with a smile. “We can take the Marauder.”

Tech pushed out of his seat, quickly interrupting, “That won’t be necessary. I can-”

“No.” Hunter firmly pushed back, pointing a finger towards Echo. “You and Echo keep working on that code. I’ll take care of her.” 

Hunter cutting off Tech’s access to you, knowingly or not, rippled an ugly feeling in Tech.

Tech looked at you, hoping you’d intervene, but instead, you flippantly waved your hand, “We’ll be back before you know it.” You added with a wink, “Don’t worry, your ship will be fine.”

 That’s not my issue. Tech grumbled inwardly. Knowing he had no real ground to stand on Tech sat back down with a shrug, conceding a curt, “Fine.”

It was not fine. The entire time you were gone Tech weighed the likelihood of Hunter seizing the opportunity at hand. He imagined what he’d do if he’d been the one with the freedom of autopilot and privacy of space with you. He wasn’t one for lingering in fantasies, especially with a task at hand. 

But he found himself preferring the imagined scenarios of what might transpire between you and him over the intrusive thoughts of what could be happening with Hunter. All of the places he’d pressed you against that Hunter could be discovering.

Meanwhile on the Marauder, Hunter was basking in your presence and the comfortable silence you brought. Of course you chatted, but the spaces between were filled with an easy peace Hunter rarely experienced. You didn’t want or demand anything from him and he was able to just think about what he wanted.

And stars did he want you. Hunter wanted you often and in every way. His mild interest in you escalated to full blown fantasizing after seeing you with Tech. He could barely think when you were near him with the scent of your orgasm coming to the forefront of his memory. 

He imagined what you’d feel like squirming over his lap as you had for Tech. Did you taste as good as you smelled? He conjured the sound of his name on your tongue in his moments alone, distorting it into what it might sound like as you came for him and on him.

Reality stood in the way of that though. He wouldn’t do that to Tech. So, the most he could selfishly manage was an afternoon alone with you.

Tech’s distraction was at a dizzying high by the time he and Echo finally deciphered the code. Several hours after that, when you and Hunter had still not returned, Echo excused himself to find replacement parts for himself.

Tech’s foot tapped out a nervous rhythm until a ping from his datapad caught his attention—a signal from the Marauder’s proximity sensor. You were coming back.

He couldn’t help himself from shoving out of the booth at record speed. He took the back alleys to the Marauder’s port, ducking around corners the closer he got until his ship was in sight.

The ship let off air as the door hissed open and its stairs extended. You came out shortly after, laughing over your shoulder to Hunter, still wearing his helmet and trailing behind you. The two of you shortly chatted on the ground before you laughed again and left with a wave.

Even as you left, Hunter stood in place, watching you for far longer than Tech liked. Tech caught the way Hunter’s fists gripped a few times and his helmet tilted back. His brother took a large breath, but ultimately turned to leave.

Backing off from the scene, Tech took an educated guess on your egress and left before Hunter caught on to his spectator.

Tech made a beeline to intercept you, cutting through a maintenance room to between you and the main road. As he pulled you aside to face him, he anticipated your scream and quickly covered your mouth.

Your surprise morphed into something happier once you recognized the goggles in front of you. Pulling Tech’s hand down you giggled quietly, “Way to be a creep. What are you doing out here?”

Tech brushed right past your question, asking, “Are you headed somewhere?”

You watched him for a second, a suspicious smile creeping over you. “Not particularly.”

“In that case - follow me,” Tech said as he led you back down the alley. “I need you.”

“For what?” You called after him, tugging on his shoulder to catch up. Tech gave you a sidelong glance but remained tight-lipped.

The two of you were in silence all the way until you made it onto the Marauder. Once inside, you walked past Tech hands on hips, in the direction of the gunner’s mount. “Alright, what’s got you all-”

“I would’ve appreciated the time with you.” Tech interrupted, his voice unexpectedly close. You spun around to find him just an arm's length away.

Tech didn’t seem like the clingy type, not to mention - “You seemed busy with Echo.”

“That’s because I was.” Tech chirped matter-of-factly. 

Your confused expression made Tech pause, realizing he needed to explain further. He had been busy, indeed, but the thought that he could have spent that time with you—and had been distracted by thoughts of you instead—made him reconsider his priorities.

“The code… could have waited.” His eyes glanced at the floor between, thinking for another moment. “I would’ve preferred spending the time with you.”

Tech’s unexpected softness made you stutter. You reached up to cup his cheek, saying in a light tone, “From here on out, you’re the only one for me. Besides,” You offered him that small smile he relished so much and playfully patted his cheek. “I’ll make it up to you.”

A smile ticked the corner of Tech’s mouth, accompanied by a soft hum. It wasn’t long until familiar thought crept back up.

Tech pressed a kiss into your palm. He turned away slightly, then fixed a serious gaze on you. “How was your time with Hunter?”

The shift in Tech’s tone sent a chill down your spine. Despite nothing having happened between you and the leader, Hunter had somehow become a tender subject with Tech. Tech’s hand slid over yours as he faced you once more, his expression unreadable.

You weren’t sure what answer he hoped for. Hoping for the best, you answered, “Perfectly ordinary.” You couldn’t help adding on a teasing whisper, “You wouldn’t be jealous would you, Tech?”

Tech remained silent, a flicker of something indecipherable crossing his eyes. He gently pulled your hand from his cheek and took a step toward you, causing you to instinctively step back. He advanced again, and you retreated, until you both stood between the bunks.

He leveraged his hold on you to guide you into turning with him, a pseudo dance that put your back to the cockpit of the ship. His eyes drifted beyond you again as he took on a pondering tone, “Remind me - to be jealous is to worry that someone might take something of mine.” Locking eyes with you again he finished with a lifted brow, “That is correct, isn’t it?”

You nodded, momentarily feeling like you had gained the upper hand. That sensation quickly faded as Tech’s expression shifted into a confident, knowing smile.

“In that case, no, I am not jealous,” he stated dryly, moving away to crouch down. As he peered up at you, his hand vanished under the bunk. “However, that does beg the question,” he continued, his eyes fixed on you while his hand rummaged through a few boxes, “What of mine would I be worrying someone might take?” He watched you process his question, expecting the lovely color you’d be turning

A blush flared up your neck to the tips of your ears. Was he asking for clarity or to put you on the spot? You and Tech had never outlined exactly what you were doing together.

Your fingers found their way to each other in a nervous fidgets. Through nervous laughs you only managed to stammer out, “Well, I… I thought it…”

Tech’s search hit its mark and he was on his feet again, watching and waiting for a legitimate answer. There was something about being pinned under the weight of Tech’s attention that flooded your core with heat every time.

“Me.” You finally squeaked out. “I thought you were worried about me.”

Your response drew a quick inhale from Tech as his eyes widened slightly, a little light sparking through them. “You’re saying… you’re mine?”

His bold streak inspired one of your own. “I am.” You responded with more confidence than you expected.

“I was hoping that would be your response.” Tech dropped his gaze as he slipped something into your hand. “Put this on.”

You brought the object up for inspection, a familiar piece of fabric you recognized as one of Hunter’s bandanas. Looking between the bandana and Tech, you slowly asked,“Put it on?”

“Yes, over your eyes.” Tech confirmed, pointing to the red bandana.

You gave one last, suspicious glance at Tech before obeying. As you tied the bandana over your eyes, cutting off your vision and leaving you with only the rustling of Tech’s clothes to let you know he was still nearby.

“Now,” Tech began, his voice closer than you before. “Get on the bunk.”

His hand helped you through his instruction, leading you to the bottom bunk. Hunter’s bunk. The makeshift blindfold made you miss the second pointed look Tech cast over your shoulder.

From the pilot’s seat, slumped down and regretting every step he’d made that day, Hunter hid as best he could. He’d started heading back to Cid’s after dropping you off only to doubleback to the Marauder, unable to shake his thoughts of you.

Hunter just needed enough time to sit in your lingering scent and please himself the way he ached for you to. He was lost in the thought of you perched in his lap, moaning his name and moving over him in time with his hand, when the sound of footsteps snapped him back to reality.

Frozen in place, his cock still throbbed in his fist when your voice sifted through the Marauder, sending a twitch up his length. Tech’s voice followed shortly after, forcing Hunter to bite back a frustrated groan. You’ve got to be kriffing kidding me, he cursed to himself. Hunter kept himself as motionless as possible while trying to tuck himself away.

Hearing Tech telling you to get on a bunk kicked something in Hunter’s stomach and kept him from fully concealing himself.

Tech didn’t know that Hunter would be onboard. After all, he’d watched the both of you walk away from his ship. His initial urge was to move you somewhere without an audience. Though, standing over you, blindfolded and sitting at the edge of his brother’s bunk, he decided Hunter’s presence was indeed a favorable situation.

At the very least, Tech would make good use of it.

Refraining from checking the pilot’s seat, Tech dropped to balance on the balls of his feet. You were waiting so patiently, shoulders high and lip tucked between your teeth.

“Sarad.” You jolted slightly when Tech broke the silence with his name for you, humming suggestively at his nickname for you. Your thighs squeezed together when you answered with his own name. Your anticipation was palpable. 

Tech shifted forward, bridging the gap by sliding his hand up your thigh. His thumb barely grazed the apex of your thighs and you squirmed in place. Not a single one of your reactions was wasted on Tech. Every time he touched you, you gave him a new expression, a new noise. He wanted all of it. 

The way you moved was affecting him more than usual, he gripped your thigh to keep from shoving you onto your back. Gripping your other thigh, Tech spread your legs to move between them. 

Blindly, your hands found him, sliding up to his shoulders. Your thumbs worked into him, begging for more of his touch. It worked, Tech felt blood rush through him and his thumbs matched your rhythm.

“Typically, our approach to intimacy is measured.” Tech paused to maintain his calm. His pants were well beyond tight and the primal compulsion to strip you bare was starting to cloud his judgment. He swallowed, nerves weighing him down more than usual. 

All of this was more than usual. He wanted far more than usual.

“This time I-”

“You don’t have to ask.” You cut him short.

Tech blinked at you, “You do not know what I’m asking.”

Breathing a laugh, you thumbed the bandana out of one eye. The look you gave him was heavy and drew Tech further between your legs.

“You want me, right now.” You murmured, pressing your legs into him. “So take me, Tech. Right now.”

Tech’s response wasn’t immediate, he was still trying to see reason. Your pulling the bandana back into place threw that out the door.

He moved on you, gliding his hands over your hips and hooking his fingers into your pants. With your help, your pants and undergarments were tossed aside in seconds. He’d already unclasped his pants and positioned himself between your legs by the time you fell onto your back.

Tech took one of his gloves between his teeth to yank it off at the same time you slid a hand between you. He didn’t have time to even tug on the glove when he felt his head smooth over your entrance. He’d thought he’d need saliva to begin, but your arousal proved him wrong.

He felt you drip down the length of him and that was it. Tech drove his hips into you, catching your hand to stop you from stifling your moan. He hissed as he pulled back, letting you feel every inch of him and indulging in the velvet of your insides.

“Please, don’t hold back.” Tech thrust into you again, filling you completely. “I need to hear you.”

Your arms fell back beside your head and a lazy smile lilting across you as you gave in to him. Afterwards, each of his thrusts coaxed a moan from you and in turn, he echoed you with noises of his own.

The two had been down this route before, but something was different before. His movements were harder, faster, and more desperate. His force alone was spreading warmth through you.

Tech wedged his hand under your shirt, shoving his gloved hands over your breasts. His usual gentle touch was nowhere to be seen when he pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. You whined in a way he hadn’t heard before.

And apparently in a way Hunter hadn’t either.

Just your sounds alone put a rhythm back into Hunter’s grasp. Even without turning, Hunter could envision every thrust Tech made by the sounds of your bodies moving together and the sounds you made. The very sounds he imagined when alone.

They were more beautiful than he’d imagined.

The whine you made pushed him so close to his edge Hunter had to let go of himself to stop from cumming. A whine so enticing, Hunter’s feet moved without his say. His chair swiveled just enough to let Hunter catch a glimpse of the bunks. 

Tech was over you, half crouched and moving his hips against you in short, hard thrusts. Hunter could just make out the cause of your whine, Tech’s working beneath your shirt, but your face was out of view. Out of view and splayed out over his bunk.

Tech’s movements slowed slightly, his head twitching as if to look towards the cockpit. Hunter almost ducked back, but Tech kept his sights on forward and, from the sounds you made, pinched your nipple harder. 

Moving a hand under your back, Tech kept his fingers tight on you and pulled you upright. The sudden pressure and change in position made you reach for Tech in need for something to ground you in reality. He caught you as your arms looped around his neck and your face fell beside his, chin resting on his shoulder.

Tech stilled for only a moment to allow you to adjust to him fully seated within you. You didn’t allow that though. You gyrated your hips against him, needy and anxious for him to continue.

“Don’t stop. Please.” You pleaded.

To your displeasure, Tech removed his hand from your shirt and his cock from within you. You were whimpering for him when he ordered you, each word carefully enunciated, “Then I suggest you get on your knees.”

You didn’t question the order, eagerly following directions with his help. Tech put you on your hands and knees on the floor in front of him and facing the cockpit.

Your new position allowed Hunter to finally see your face and the bandana covering your eyes. The sight of his bandana on you created an almost painful ache that pushed a swell of pre-cum out of Hunter as he gripped himself again. From his base to the tip, he gave himself tight, slow strokes as he took in every inch of you.

For all that he could see in the moment, you appeared fully clothed again. Then Tech lifted your hips to meet his and Hunter caught a glimpse of the bare skin of your ass.

It made it so easy to imagine that it was him behind you.

Hunter was so consumed by this vision of you that it took him a second to realize something else - Tech was staring him down.

And for a moment, your pants were the only sounds in the Marauder.

Maintaining eye contact with Hunter, Tech leaned over you with one hand steadying your hip and another moving under your chin. Tech angled your head back as he brought his mouth to your ear and slid inside you once more.

Your mouth fell open, groaning as Tech stretched you again. He pushed deep inside you, pressing against your womb in a way he’d not yet explored. 

He didn’t move, only allowing you to feel his cock spasming against your walls.

“Can you do something for me?” Tech pushed harder against you, testing how much of him you could withstand.

Your response was instantaneous, “Anything for you.”

Tech turned his face only enough so that his lips brushed your ear. “Imagine there was someone watching us,” Tech whispered just for you, gauging your reaction.

Had it not been for the way you constricted around him, your silence would have made Tech backpedal.

“Watching us?” Your voice fluttered as you clenched around him. Tech may have dropped his voice low enough to miss Hunter, but you had not and Tech caught the jolt of Hunter’s seat. It was exactly what Tech was aiming for.

“Precisely.” Tech purred, pivoting all his attention back on you. “Someone observing as you come undone for me.” He let go of your face and pressed his forehead into your shoulder and he slid fully out of you to sheath himself again. “Someone who thinks they might have you.”

Neither of the brothers realized the bandana across your eyes sat in a way that gave you a sliver of sight. It was only a glimpse, but you could make out the cockpit, the slightly turned pilot’s seat, and the boots in front of it. There was a shadow of a face peeking around the chair and you knew exactly who was watching.

You braced yourself on your forearms, keeping your face visible for Hunter as you leaned away from Tech. He caught your hips and yanked you back onto his cock.

“So show them who I belong to.” You shuddered as Tech ground into you.

“Oh I can do that.”

Tech wrapped his arms around around your waist, holding you in place as he fucked you into the floor. Your eyes stayed on Hunter, watching as the chair shifted slightly. He was moving in the chair and you may not have been able to see it but he was touching himself.

This was the closest Tech would let him get to you. Being on display for Hunter, vulnerable, naked, and pleading for Tech thrilled you in a way you hadn’t expected.

You began begging for more, letting your voice ring loud and clear. Moaning for Tech and the pressure building inside you. Shifting as best you could, you wormed a hand beneath you to circle your clit.

Tech knew what you were doing and knew what was coming. He moved his legs to either side of you, budging you to stand on your knees, your back flush against him.

Your view of Hunter vanished along with your resolve. You kept one hand on the bud between your legs and slipped the other one up over your shoulder to hang on Tech’s neck. He dipped his face close to you again, his eyes checking Hunter one final time.

“What was it you said earlier?” Tech panted out. “About being mine?”

Those three words almost shoved you both over the edge.

“I’m yours, Tech.” You gasped as Tech thrust up into you, angling into the soft spot that brought you to your release every time. 

“Again.” He grunted on a hard thrust that finished you.

Your entire body shuddered and you cried out, “I’m yours - only yours, Tech!”

Tech had to focus on not dropping you as your words shoved him into his own orgasm. He didn’t have time to pull out, instead burying himself as far as he could and spilling out inside you.

Hunter had watched the entire scene, keeping pace with your rhythm and chasing the sounds of your moans. Multiple times he had to pace himself, hungry to finish as you did, anxious to stay quiet enough to witness it. It was the quaking of your legs and the scent of your orgasm that wrecked him. 

Hunter put a hand over his head as he came, begrudgingly catching his seed before it hit the floor and gave him away. 

The two of you quaked together until you collapsed back into Tech, sending you both off balance to the floor. It hadn’t been a long session, but the two of you were spent, sweaty, and panting together.

You fidgeted just enough for Tech to slide out of you and push up onto an elbow to look over you. At the angle you sat and the blindfold still in place, there was nothing stopping a stealthy exit for Hunter.

Without glancing at his brother, Tech lowered himself over you, hoping he could drown out any footsteps to come. It wasn’t necessarily an exit, or an entire event, he wanted to address. Now or ever. 

Tech tended to you, speaking to you in a low voice as Hunter took the hint, tucked himself away and went for the exit. Had it not been that you were already aware of his presence, it would have been a successful endeavor.

You said nothing about it, letting the brothers keep whatever competition that was happening to themselves. You’d been truthful, you wanted nothing and no one but Tech. If he occasionally needed that validated and this was his way of getting it - you certainly weren’t complaining.

taglist: @baddest-batchers @bruh-myguy-what

[cloned-eyes]

pls tap for better quality if tumblr eats it, i beg u

AU in which Echo regains back conciousness while still being the algorithm.

[secretly-a-trekkie]

these three are besties. it's just canon

[necrophatic]

Maul Arc but Feral is there

[phantasm-echo]

Happy (slightly late) Father’s Day‼️‼️‼️

I bring you all Rex and tiny domino twins from @moxiebustion ‘s Ramik’ade AU because I can’t get enough of them and ueueuueueueueueue I love them so so much

[iszapizza]

baby Jedi maul is back !

[im-yotsu]

Sketch dump :]

[bishicat]

newest hyperfixation alert!!!

[archivewriter1ont]

Cadet Batch Incorrect Quotes

Echo: You are so cute now that I can’t take you seriously.

Cadet Hunter: I have a knife! *waves it around*

Echo: Now you look like an angry kitten. Ooh, I’m so scared.

Rex: *really is scared* Hunt’ika, please put the knife down!

Echo: But he’s cute when he’s threatening!

Rex: Echo, this kid is enhanced, crazy, and overstimulated. He is one loud noise away from snapping and killing us all.

Cadet Hunter: *hiss*

[ve-ti-ver]

I got really busy but here he finally is... angry boy

[eobe]

Savage Saturday! I read about this from @nika6q to @dystopicjumpsuit and @clonethirstingisreal (couldn‘t tag you sorry 🥺) and thought I might debut my first non-clone star wars artwork with this absolutely underrated character!

I‘m a huge fan of the original Savage. He is a caring brother 🥹🫶🏼

I hope you like it! 🫶🏼✨

[stellarbit]

Caught on Camera

3.7k words - NSFW

Tech's loses a screw in his bed and finds your earring instead. He looks back through some camera footage to see how it may have gotten there. Turns out you had gotten more than comfortable in his cot.

Piggyback's a tiny bit off of an earlier fic. Just barely though. Enjoyyy

***

Tech marched to his cot, flipping a few parts around in his hands as he went. They needed tweaking, possibly a complete overhaul, but regardless, he was set on documenting his repairs. He’d installed a motion sensor, barely detectable, microcamera in the upper corner of his cot for such occasions. While he rarely needed to review his procedures, he found satisfaction in adding to his archive.

Shoving aside chords and spare parts, Tech swung his feet up, unfazed by the clutter that surrounded him. His brothers often questioned how he managed to sleep amidst the chaos of tools and bolts scattered around him. To them, it was a horror, but to Tech, it was a carefully organized system . He found the idea of having to get up for common parts more horrific.

As Tech delicately removed a small screw, the piece slipped from his grasp, bouncing off his fingers, and, by the sounds of it, into the corner behind him. . With unwavering focus on the device before him, Tech maneuvered his fingers into the tight space, determined to retrieve the errant screw. The first thing he felt was definitely not the screw.

Examining the object in his hand, Tech raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Hold on," he muttered to himself, turning the item over in his palm. Upon closer inspection, it became evident that it wasn't a stray screw at all, but rather a piece of jewelry—a stud earring, to be precise. Intrigued, Tech glanced around his immediate surroundings, searching for any other anomalies, but found nothing amiss.

Glancing at the cot hanging on the opposite wall of the Marauder he had no doubt the earring was yours. The question lay in how it found its way into his cot. Closing his fist around the stud and setting aside his projects, Tech left his cot to grab his datapad. Once in hand, he settled back into his usual spot, plugging into the dataport next to his cot, and began sifting through the camera footage.

While Tech seldom needed to review the recordings, he was meticulous in his examination. As the footage played, he focused intently, scouring for any unexpected visitors in his personal space.

It didn’t take long for him to find the clip. More than 30 rotations ago, you appeared on screen, settling onto the edge of his cot, looked towards the exit, and pulled yourself fully up into the bunk. Mimicking your actions, Tech leaned out to survey the area for any potential interruptions before returning his attention to the footage, his curiosity piqued.

As Tech continued to watch the footage, he observed your relaxed demeanor as you settled into his space, making yourself at home. Your hands explored the surroundings, tracing the sketches adorning the wall and the edges of his bed before coming to rest on your stomach. Tech glanced at the pillow beside him, surprised he hadn’t picked up on your scent.

In the video, you leaned back, seemingly preparing to relax, prompting Tech's curiosity to peak. He watched intently as you closed your eyes briefly, a fleeting moment of apparent calm. However, your fingers soon began to fidget, and your eyes opened again, scanning over his drawings. Tech observed with a mixture of fascination and perplexity as you pulled your shirt from your pants, revealing the skin below your navel.

Tech didn’t have time to consider what you were doing before your hands got to work on your pants. Adjusting his goggles and bringing the datapad closer to his face, he watched intently as you deftly worked on your pants, effortlessly opening them just enough for your hand to slip inside. Even through the fabric, the movements of your fingers were unmistakable

Tech reared back slightly, his mind racing with thoughts. He paused the video, freezing the image of you lost in your own touch, unaware of the camera recording your actions. His thumb wandered along your silhouette, he’d witnessed you sleeping and caught you off guard on occasion but this felt very different.

Although you were technically intruding upon his personal space, Tech reasoned that you likely believed you were not being watched. Holding his breath, he hesitated for a moment before pressing play, eager to see how the situation would unfold.

Tech's eyes widened as a mixture of disbelief and arousal washing over him. Your actions were intimate in a way he hasn’t expected. His hand instinctively moved to adjust his goggles, his focus unwavering on the datapad screen as you continued.

Your hand dove farther into your pants while your free hand slid up your body and onto your chest. The hand on your chest mirrored a moment he couldn't forget—the moment he had separated you and Crosshair by means of a hand Crosshair’s shoulder and another your chest.

He heard you hushedly moan, “Tech.” The way you said his name sent a shiver down Tech's spine, his heart rate quickening in response.

He hesitated for a brief moment, torn between shutting off the video and continuing to watch. It wasn't until he felt the undeniable strain against his own pants that Tech finally forced himself to pause the recording. His mind raced as he pieced together the timeline of this event, recalling the mission with the 501st that had stirred up unresolved feelings and tension between you and the Bad Batch. 

Tech watched you in his cot and a small smile came to him. Evidently it was his touch that had the most impact. With a thoughtful expression, he uncurled his hand, the stud earring still nestled within his palm. Casting a glance at the concealed microcamera, Tech knew he had to handle this situation delicately.

As he pondered his next move, Tech considered the whereabouts of his teammates. Echo and Hunter were engaged in a meeting with a Jedi general, Crosshair and Wrecker were occupied restocking supplies, and you had taken on the task of handling rations. You made it clear you were only handling the rations this time.

Glancing at the time displayed on his datapad, Tech calculated that you would soon be returning. With a sense of anticipation, he tapped the corner of his datapad, preparing himself for your imminent arrival.

He pinched the earring between his thumb and forefinger to place it on your pillow. Unplugging from the dataport, Tech went to stand in the Marauder’s doorway. Leaning against the frame, he appeared engrossed in his datapad, though his mind was preoccupied with thoughts of your impending return.

As he scrolled through the datapad, Tech played out various scenarios in his mind, preparing himself for the interaction to come. He wanted to handle the situation with finesse, ensuring that neither of you felt uncomfortable or embarrassed.

Soon enough, he spotted you approaching, a hovercart laden with rations in tow. Your smile was warm as you greeted him, not at all surprised to find him waiting. You chuckled lightly as you shook your head, teasing him by saying, "Guess I shouldn't be surprised you're already done with your tinkering," you remarked, your tone affectionate.

Tech remained focused on his datapad initially, not looking up as you approached. "I've told you, it's not 'tinkering,'" he reiterated, his tone matter-of-fact. With a casual push off the doorframe, he straightened up. "Besides, there's another matter that has arisen, and I require your assistance with it."

You leaned casually on the handles of the hovercart, feigning nonchalance. "My help? Must be pretty desperate," you teased, eliciting a bored, almost annoyed look from Tech. Chuckling at his reaction, you urged him to lead the way, pushing the cart toward the ship. "Fine, fine. Let's get whatever it is over with."

Following Tech inside, you watched curiously as he handed you his datapad. He retrieved a long cord from beneath his cot and plugged it into the device and the dataport beside his cot. Pointing towards your cot opposite his, he instructed, "You may sit there."

You followed Tech's suggestion and settled into your cot as he maneuvered into his bunk, opening a panel beside the dataport. "I need to calibrate a camera I installed in my bunk.”

The word 'camera' caught you off guard, and you struggled to maintain your composure, your surprise barely contained to a single raised eyebrow. "Since when do you have a camera in your bunk?" you asked, trying to sound casual despite the rush flooding your mind. Inside, you felt a sense of panic at the implications of what might be hidden in the camera's memory. Your heart raced as a live feed of Tech working on the datapad panel appeared on the screen, confirming your suspicions.

"For playback purposes when I make repairs," Tech said with a shrug of a shoulder. "It can prove useful for reference purposes. However, I've never found the need for it," he added with a smirk of triumph.

Internally, a wave of relief hit you. It seemed that Tech had never bothered to review the footage, which eased your earlier concerns. "So, you just have a constant recording going?" you asked, trying to sound bored.

Tech shook his head, scoffing at the suggestion. "That would be unnecessary," he replied. "The camera is motion-activated. Recording only initiates when someone moves in front of it. Even I would find it tedious to scour a constant feed for a single event.”

You nodded, your attention fixed on the screen as you watched Tech's movements. The camera panned smoothly, capturing every adjustment he made. "I'm not sure what I am looking for, but the view looks fine," you said.

“Sarad.” The mention of the Mando’an nickname caught you off guard and put you on high alert.

“Hmm?" you responded, feigning nonchalance as you hummed out a reply. Onscreen, Tech closed the wall panel and settled back into his cot, positioning himself to face the camera directly. His gaze locked onto the lens, and even through the video feed, you felt the weight of his stare, a subtle kind of eye contact.

"I believe I found something of yours, it is on your pillow" Tech said, pointing towards you as he addressed you directly. Your gaze followed his gesture, and sure enough, there it was—a tiny stud earring perched on your pillow. You brightened at the sight, recognizing your lost jewelry.

 Ditching the datapad, you plucked the earring and returned it to its rightful place in your ear. You beamed at Tech, who was now looking directly at you. “Tech, thank you! I thought it was lost for good.” Already forgetting the previous circumstances, you asked, “How in the stars did you find it?”

Tech's gaze softened as he watched you reclaim your earring, a subtle smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I stumbled upon it recently during my ‘tinkering’ as you say."

Your beaming dimmed with a bit of confusion as he continued, "It was nestled in an unexpected place—in my cot, of all locations." He paused, allowing the implication of his words to sink in.

A short, nervous laugh bubbled out of you. "In your cot? How did it end up there?" you asked in a bad play confusion. You suddenly knew exactly how you came to lose it.

Tech's eyes narrowed as he soaked in your reactions. He was committing this interaction to memory. Never having experienced exchanges like the ones you two shared, and with nothing to relate it to, he found himself struggling to predict the next outcome.

He cleared his throat before speaking. "Actually," he began, his tone betraying amusement, “I do have an idea of how it ended up in my cot." Pausing for a moment to gauge your reaction, he continued, "You see, while reviewing the camera footage for the earring’s orgins, I happened to come across a rather fascinating incident."

"It seems that during a moment of relaxation, you may have inadvertently misplaced your earring," he explained, choosing his words carefully. His eyes dipped for a blink as he practically purred, "It was quite captivating, really.”

Tech noticed the hastening of your breaths and the familiar red blotches blossoming up your neck. The corner of his lips twitched in rhythm with his fingers. 

Despite the temptation, he knew it wasn't the time for such impulses. He resisted the urge to reach out and feel the warm flush of your skin. He found himself wondering how you would react, but he pushed aside those thoughts.

You sat there wide eyed with an anxiety induced smile stuck in place. No words came to mind, all you could imagine was what kind of expression Tech had while he watched you.

“How much did you see?”

“May I ask you something?” He completely ignored your question, too engrossed in dissecting the situation for it to register. You squeaked out a yes and he asked, “What you did in my cot…” He leaned forward, hands on his knees, “Do you do that in the others’ cots?”

He’d asked you something similar in the past. About whether you reacted to his brothers the way you did him. If he knew of the ache between your legs his intense watch was causing, well that would be his answer. 

Your breaths became heavier and your tongue still felt like lead when you said, “You don’t like that idea. Do you?”

Tech considered the concept for a moment. “That is irrelevant to my question.”

You sensed his hesitation, but you needed a definitive answer before proceeding with your plans. "Amuse me," you urged, pushing him gently for a response.

As Tech's gaze momentarily flickered away, a serious expression crossed his features. “I have no say in where you choose to… relax.” After a brief pause to compose himself, he adjusted his goggles and met your gaze again. “But no. Hearing you’ve done so in other cots is not something I would enjoy.”

“Are you angry with me for what I did?”

Tech's response was immediate and straightforward. "No," he replied, his puzzlement evident in his tone.

“May I show you something?” You were on your feet and in front of him before the question was finished.

In response to your abrupt question, Tech found himself slightly taken aback. "I-I suppose so,"Tech watched as you undid your pants, mirroring the actions he had witnessed in the recording. However, this time, instead of proceeding as before, your hands settled beside you.

He stared at the little spot of abdomen peeking out. Keeping his head still, Tech raised his eyes to meet yours, a question evident in his expression.

There was a moment of silent understanding between you, mutual acknowledgment of the question hanging in the air. Tech's analytical mind raced, seeking to decipher the meaning behind your actions, yet he remained composed, awaiting your response with a mixture of curiosity and intrigue.

“Take off a glove, Tech.”

He didn’t break eye contact as he lifted his right hand and pulled at each finger until the glove was off. Bracing a hand on the bunk above him, you leaned down to reach for his hand. An inch away, you stopped. Tech was so careful with you. Getting clear consent and understanding before even touching you. You wanted to afford him the same thing.

Your stomach fluttered as you confessed, “It happened only once outside of my own bed.” He swallowed upon hearing that, fueling you to continue. “The thought of you, Tech, makes my body react in a way it doesn’t for others.”

Obliviousness was not a characteristic of Tech’s. Certain social cues were lost on him, but he was the most intelligent man you’d ever met. He could read between the lines and he was. Tech’s hand closed the small gap to lay palm side up in your hand. 

“I require a better understanding of what you mean.” Without speaking you guided his hand to the cusp of your pants, his fingers barely touching the patch of exposed abdomen.

The surprise on his face only encouraged your rising fever. “If you want a better understanding,” You leaned into his touch, “You’ll have to get one for yourself.”

In the thralls of discovery, a ravenous look consumes Tech and that was the expression spiraling over him in that moment.. He put his left hand on your hip, pulling you slightly lower while, at the same time, angling his hand between your pants and your body and right between your legs. His touch took your breath away. 

His middle finger smoothed over your skin and hit the wetness dripping out of you. He pressed another finger over your slick entrance and pulled a soft noise from you.

“This is unexpected.” Tech’s face was vibrantly proud. It was that cocky self confidence that made you weak kneed in the first place. “I rather like it.” He applied more pressure and his fingers began to dip inside of you.

Your knees bent at the touch, your body begging for more. It worked to the point of getting his fingers farther inside. Tech responded by curling the two fingers into you and pulling you forward. The grip you had on the bunk above was the only thing keeping you from collapsing to the ground. When his fingers started to move, that life line nearly snapped.

“I didn’t watch your recording very long.” Tech admitted while his free hand moved to grip your ass. He gently squeezed your ass and said, “This is something I wanted to observe first hand.”

“You wanted this?” Your question came out in a whine, you could barely think of anything other than the fact Tech was fingering you.

Tech buried his fingers deeper, “Oh, most definitely.” At this point, his hand was about the only thing keeping you on your feet. The angle of his palm made it so he was constantly brushing against your clit, making it hard to stay standing. He felt your knees wobble and he tugged your forward again, fingers still working inside of you.

You fell into him, hands on his shoulders and a shin over his thigh. The sounds you were making for him, only for him as he was constantly reminding himself, were working him into a frenzy as well. He wanted more, he needed to know what other faces you would make for him. What sounds he could pull from you as he played with you.

  With each careful movement of his fingers, Tech observed the subtle shifts in your expression, the moments when your eyes fluttered closed or your breath caught in your throat. He adjusted his touch accordingly, seeking to provide you with the perfect balance of pressure and release.

You had long since lost yourself in the sensation of his touch, your gaze drifting away as you surrendered to the pleasure coursing through your body. It had been years since you had felt this kind of intimacy. It was with a member of the 501st and it had never felt as intense as this moment with Tech.

Tech studied you far more than you realized. Learning how you worked and what you liked was intoxicating him. This was no different. He had no relevant experience with such intimacies, but he was priding himself on learning your body. You’d never have guessed this was his first time with the way his fingers strung you along.

His middle finger curled into a soft spot on your wall, sending a jolt through you. You leaned farther into him, panting into his ear. “Tech, you can’t keep doing that.”

Tech barely let off the pressure. Instead he rolled his finger into the spot over and over, coaxing you to tighten around him and collapse. You were straddling him at this point and, with his free hand anchoring you in place with a firm grip on your ass, release was rushing towards you. “I’ve barely done anything yet.” The timbre in his voice sent a shudder through you. 

You pulled back and held his face in your hands. “Tech,” his name came out in a whine. “I don’t want the first time you see me like this to be on your fingers.” Your mouth hung open in a soft moan.

Tech’s gloved hand flew to your face to hook a thumb into your mouth. He drew your face closer to his, his voice dropping to a low, almost teasing tone. "Too bad," he murmured, his words laced with playful defiance. 

He gripped you with whole hand, his palm working into your clit while his fingers kept up their pace. The combination made you see stars as heat burst through you. Pleasure shot from your core to every nerve in your body. You arched into him and you rode out your climax on his hand. His hand moved over your mouth, his thumb now wet with your saliva.

You pushed his hand off your mouth, it fell to your back, and you caught his lips in a kiss. It quickly became a hungry dance between you. The pressure of the kiss was almost bruising, but neither of you cared about air at the moment. As you licked and nipped at his lips, Tech quickly followed your rhythm until you pulled his tongue into yours for a gentle suck. He groaned at the sensation and couldn’t stop the thought of what else might find its way into your mouth.

Gradually, Tech slowed his fingers and the kiss faded into soft exchanges. Tech was withdrawing his hand when the kiss finally broke completely and you both were left panting.

Tech’s gloved hand casually cradled the small of your back as he shifted your weight onto his left leg. He brought the fingers, still slick with you, to his mouth to suck on the tips. He smirked at your blatant surprise, gave his hand a wipe on his cot, and set it on your thigh.

“With your permission, I’d like to refer back to this particular recording in the future.”

It took a moment to shake off the haze of pleasure and remember the camera. You shifted your focus to the lens, then leaned in, your voice barely above a whisper. “Only if you touch me like that again.” Satisfied with your playful tease, you attempted to lean back, but Tech's firm grip held your head in place. His lips brushed against your ear.

In a quiet, firm voice he promised. “That was only the beginning.”

[spacedace]

“Hey, I need to get married for bullshit Infinite Realms reasons, you two in?”

“Tt, of course.”

“Sure thing! Do we need to get going for that like, right now? Or later?”

“Eh, like in a couple of hours? The Observants are demanding some Royal Ball or something and they pulled out some stupid old laws out of their collective asses that if I’m not married by the time it starts they can assign me spouses of their choosing, can you fucking believe that shit?”

“Woah, what the hell? Can they even do that?”

“I was under the impression they were only permitted to observe.”

“Right? It’s total crap, but apparently there’s like this super old law on the books and they didn’t bring it up until now when there’s like no time left to try and force me to marry someone they pick.”

“They are training to gain influence over you?”

“Eh, more like they’re trying to get control of my Dad by way of me. But still fucked as hell.”

“So why do you need to marry both of us? Or do you just need to marry one of us and we should play rock paper scissor for it?”

“Technically I only need to marry one of you, but I don’t want them pulling out any loopholes or something. So, it’d be great if one of you could be my consort for my role as Queen of Mirrors, and one could be my consort for my role as Crown Princess. You two can figure who’s who on that all that, I’m good with whatever.”

“Oooh, can I be consort for the Mirror Court? I can annoy Kon more that way.”

“I am amenable to that. Grandfather will have a fit when he learns that I can cut his access to the Pits off at my discretion and there’s nothing he can do about it.”

“Awesome, okay are you two good for meeting up at like, three? We can pop over to my Lair and get everything sorted out there.”

“Works for me, my only class til this afternoon is at one and the professor already said we’re cutting out early because she has to go out of town this weekend.”

“Four would be more agreeable if possible, I have to take Titus to the vet for his checkup.”

“Okay let’s aim for four then. It’s just signing some paperwork, making some quick blood-slash-ectoplasm pacts and swearing a couple binding oaths… Should only take like five or ten minutes?”

“They’re not gonna make you have a huge royal wedding or anything?”

“Nah. Dad keeps things pretty chill so as long as the paperwork is all in order we’ll be good. Though once Auntie Dorathea finds out she’s absolutely gonna make us have one. She loves planning weddings. Swear its what she makes her hoard out of somehow.”

“So long as we have a say in some of the proceedings I have no issue with that eventuality.”

“Same, it sounds like it’d be a fun way to annoy the Observants even more.”

“Don’t for get all the weirdos trying to be my suitors and all that bullshit.”

“We have an accord then. We can reconvene at the usual place.”

“Awesome, you two are the best! I gotta jet and let everyone know and get the ball rolling on the paperwork stuff. See you guys at four!”

With that, Nomad - Stella Phantom, Crown Princess of the Infinite Realms, Queen of Mirrors, Core of the Speedforce and ghostly hero of the Titans and the Justice League - tore a rip in the fabric of space and time and darted out of the room the same way she came. Through the mind-bending tear in reality the eerie, eye-searing green of the Infinite Realms glowed in all its unsettling glory, Phantom Keep a glittering expanse of night sky made solid in the distance.

Jon waved at her cheerfully as Damian gave a nod of farewell before both silently turned their attention back to their respective tablets as the portal closed behind their friend and teammate and the glimpse of the Ghost Zone disappeared again. Completely unbothered by the conversation just held or the life changing implications that came with them.

Jon was humming as he tapped away at something on the screen before him, Damian propping his head up on his fist in vague boredom as he frowned down at the information he was reading.

The rest of the room Nomad had left behind was caught in a frozen, stunned silence in the wake of the baffling conversation they’d all just been witness to. All eyes in the room darted between Flamebird and Pheonix seated calmly at the end of the table, then to the space where Nomad had disappeared to, back to the young men, and then towards the head of the table where Superman and Batman sat looking bewildered and a bit on the verge of heart attacks.

The short status update meeting was about to become much, much longer it seemed.

Though a lot more entertaining.

[hqbits]

hmmm having engineer thoughts

[bluerosefox]

Same As The Day I Lost You

I...

This came to me as I'm making dinner so I'll be quick.

What if we mix deaged Danny and twin/older sibling (either one works) Damian, AND he gets tossed to his sibling in a last minute escape.

Like what if he was fighting Vlad who was doing his whole "denounce your father and join me as my son Daniel!" Thing while in the Zone and knocks Danny into something that's floating in the Zone with the ability to deage or was hit by a new Fenton or Plasmius invention while fighting in town that accidentally deages him.

Danny, who in this was adopted, gets put back to the age of six. The same age he had been found by Jazz in a 'haunted' forest Jack and Maddie were visiting/investigating while also using that time as a family vacation. (They were shocked to see a little boy with a stab wound bleeding out and rushed him to the nearby town, almost completely forgetting about the glowing green tiny puddle they found nearby and bagged most of it as evidence when they heard Jazz's scream of terror over finding the hurt little boy)

The sudden revert into that traumatized age, along with the child response to a fight or flight scenario, and add Danny's deepest need/wish to be protected his child fogged mind wishes to go to the one person who always made him feel safe.

His twin/older brother.

Just as quick as it was with Danny being turned into a child, his ghost powers ripped open a portal and sent Danny to the person he wants to be with...

Only he didn't know that right at that moment his seventeen year old twin/older brother is currently fighting the League with his family's help (his mother was trying to convince him to return to the League and be it's heir) in Nanda Parbat (the very place Damian lost the last/only person he knew loved him without any strings attached.)

So imagine everyone's face when a portal opened up, some muttering its a new pit being formed before them or something, and crawling out of it is a very scared and confused six year old Danny.

[jetii]

By Your Name

Part One

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

Words: 7,998/19,226

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! fluff, good-natured brotherly teasing, smut, this is mostly just smut actually, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), size kink, aftercare, dirty talk, Wrecker being a sweetheart that is a given

Summary: You and Wrecker are still figuring out exactly what your relationship means, and a month apart hasn't helped. Now that you're reunited again, nothing is going to stand in the way of the two of you getting what you want.

A/N: Greetings from horny jail! I didn't proofread this one that much so if you see any mistakes no you didn't.

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

Keeping your relationship with Wrecker a secret is easier said than done. There's no denying the spark between the two of you, and it only seemed to grow stronger in the days following your confession. To you, Wrecker is the sun, and you're a planet caught in his orbit, drawn in by his warmth and light. 

It's become increasingly difficult to keep things professional when all you want to do is pull him into a kiss, or spend every waking moment touching him in some way. Every time his fingers brush yours, or his hand finds the small of your back, the desire to kiss him, to hold him, to simply be with him is nearly overwhelming. And it's a feeling that only grows stronger the longer you're away from him.

Saying goodbye to Wrecker at the end of your tour with the Batch had been almost unbearable, and the distance has been agonizing. The weeks apart had dragged on, and the only solace you had was in the late-night calls and the occasional text. The longing had been a constant companion, and it had left you irritable and on edge.

But now, finally, the two of you will be reunited, and the excitement building in your chest is impossible to ignore. Even though it's been weeks since the two of you were last together, it feels like a lifetime, and you can't wait to be near him again. To feel his arms around you, his hands on your skin, his lips on yours.

The two of you had barely had enough time to figure out what exactly you are to each other before you left, and with the others around, there was little else you could do beyond a few stolen moments. But now, after weeks of anticipation and separation, you're finally getting the chance to explore things further.

And you know Wrecker is intent on making the most of the opportunity.

It was no secret that the man is incredibly tactile, and the fact that he'd been unable to touch you the way he wanted to, the way you both needed him to, had clearly taken a toll. His texts had grown progressively bolder, and the calls had lasted well into the night, and you'd spent hours on the comm with him, trying to keep your voice down while he told you everything he planned on doing to you once you were alone.

And now, you're on the same planet, finally, and the thought is enough to drive you crazy. You're already waiting in the hangar bay when the Marauder arrives, and the sight of it, the sight of him, sends a thrill of anticipation through you. The moment the ship touches down, the ramp lowers, and Wrecker comes barreling down, his arms outstretched.

"Hey, General!" he shouts. "Get ready, 'cause I'm gonna—"

You don't wait for him to finish. Instead, you throw yourself into his arms, and he catches you with ease, his arms wrapping around you, lifting you up off the ground. He spins you around, the two of you laughing and grinning like fools, and you're so happy you can barely breathe.

"Miss me?" you ask, breathless, your arms around his neck.

"Kriff, yeah," he says. "Wasn't the same without you."

"It wasn't the same for me, either," you murmur. "I didn't realize how much I would miss having you around."

"Me, neither," he replies.

He sets you down, but his arms stay locked around your waist, holding you close. The urge to kiss him is a physical ache, and the closeness is almost unbearable. But you can't, not here, not now, and so you settle for the feel of his arms around you, his hands stroking your back.

"I'm glad to see you," he says, his voice soft.

"I missed you, too," you reply, smiling up at him.

"I can't wait to show you how much I missed you," he whispers. The look in his eyes, the heat in his voice, sends a rush of desire through you, and you shiver. "Been thinkin' about it every day."

"Have you?"

"Yeah," he breathes. "And I've got a few ideas."

"Oh?" you ask, unable to keep the smile off your face. He's practically radiating energy, the excitement rolling off him in waves, and it's infectious.

Before he can respond, the sound of someone clearing their throat snaps you back to reality. The two of you turn, and you spot the others standing a short distance away at the end of the ramp. Crosshair and Tech look mildly amused, while Hunter looks vaguely uncomfortable, and Echo's expression is one of long-suffering annoyance.

"Uh, Wrecker," Hunter says, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "You mind putting her down so we can go?"

"What?" Wrecker asks. "Oh. Yeah, yeah. Sorry."

He lets go of you, his hands trailing over your waist as he steps back. You brush your hands across your tunic, trying to quell the butterflies in your stomach, and Wrecker grins down at you.

"Sorry," you say, unable to keep the smile off your face. "It's been a while."

"Just save it for the ship,” Crosshair drawls as he passes by.

"Don’t worry, we will," Wrecker fires back, throwing an entirely unnecessary wink in his direction. Crosshair rolls his eyes, but the corner of his mouth quirks up. Tech follows, shaking his head with a small smile.

"I am glad that the two of you have reconciled your differences," he says, his eyes flicking to yours. "But please keep such displays of affection to a minimum in our presence.”

"Sorry, Tech.”

"We'll behave," Wrecker adds, but his tone is teasing.

"I doubt that," Echo mutters, but his eyes are crinkled at the corners. You flush, but can't help but return the smile. He's not wrong, after all.

"We'll try," you amend, and the others chuckle as they follow Crosshair out of the hangar toward the barracks. You and Wrecker walk a short distance behind them, keeping pace, and the silence is comfortable, the two of you walking shoulder to shoulder. He leans over and nudges your arm, and you glance up at him, catching the grin on his face.

You smile back, unable to hide your excitement, and the look in his eyes is almost enough to make your knees give out. You have no idea how you're going to get through the rest of the day, knowing that he's within arm's reach. Knowing that tonight, when the others have gone to sleep, the two of you will have the ship to yourselves. And the thoughts running through your mind are enough to have you squirming in place, eager for the day to end.

"Welcome back, by the way," you say, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach.

"Glad to be back," Wrecker says. "And ready to start celebrating."

"Oh, is that what we're doing?" you tease.

"Mhm," he replies, his voice low and rough. "Gonna celebrate the kriff outta you."

You bite back a gasp, and your face heats up. You'd known Wrecker was forward, but the way he talks about wanting you, the way he openly stares at you, is still startling. No one has ever been so open with their feelings before, and while you're still getting used to the idea, it's nice. Reassuring. It's a reminder that this is real, that he wants you, and it's all you can do not to melt on the spot.

"Sounds like a good plan," you reply, your voice hoarse, and you resist the urge to fan yourself.

"Knew you'd see it my way," he says, and the look he gives you is enough to send a jolt of heat straight to your core.

The two of you continue on in comfortable silence, and you can't help but glance at him, taking in the sight of Wrecker finally back by your side. You can't deny that the past few weeks have been...frustrating. Being unable to be near him, or touch him, or even speak openly about how you feel has been agonizing. And the constant teasing and flirting via holo hasn't helped.

There are so many things you've wanted to say, to do, but haven't had the chance. Now, with the privacy and space, the temptation is nearly overwhelming. And the look on Wrecker's face tells you that he's thinking the same thing. You just need to get through the next couple hours without drawing too much attention, and then...

As expected, the celebration is a simple affair, a meal and a round or two of drinks at 79s. You've gotten used to the squad's traditions over the past year, and it's a relief to know that the evening won't drag on for hours. As it is, your patience is wearing thin, and you can tell that Wrecker feels the same.

"So," Hunter starts, his eyes fixed on the two of you. "Did you have a chance to talk about things while we were away?"

"Yeah, a bit," Wrecker says, shifting in his seat. His leg brushes against yours, and the contact sends a jolt of electricity up your spine. "Still workin' things out."

"I see," Hunter says. He takes a sip of his drink, his gaze flicking between the two of you, and he raises an eyebrow. "Just try not to make it too obvious, okay?"

"I'm not making any promises," Wrecker smirks, and the words are directed at his brother, but the way his eyes burn into you is unmistakable. You bite your lip, the heat on your cheeks nearly unbearable. The fact that he's so brazen, so shameless, is doing nothing to help your growing desire, and it's all you can do to keep a straight face.

"Wrecker, please," Echo groans, his eyes squeezed shut.

"Sorry, sorry," Wrecker chuckles, and his hand finds your thigh beneath the table, his fingers squeezing gently. You resist the urge to jump, trying to ignore the warmth of his palm seeping through the fabric of your pants. You can tell he's teasing, testing the boundaries, and the look on his face is almost smug. "I'll behave."

"No, you won't," Tech says, his eyes locked on his datapad. "But I suppose we will simply have to accept that this is your current reality."

"Guess so," Wrecker says, and the smile he gives you is blinding.

The rest of the meal is relatively uneventful, and the conversation is light, mostly centered around the mission, and what's to come. The Republic is preparing for another offensive, and you and the Batch have been assigned to gather intel on a possible Separatist stronghold in the Outer Rim. It's not an ideal mission, but it's better than sitting around doing nothing. And with Wrecker by your side, it will certainly be more bearable.

You listen as the others share stories, laughing and talking like they always do. Wrecker's hand stays on your thigh, his fingers tracing absentminded circles on your leg, and it's enough to keep you distracted, the anticipation growing with every passing minute. By the time the meal is finished, you're all but squirming in your seat, and you're desperate to get out of the crowded room.

"What about you?" Crosshair asks, and the sound of his voice pulls you back to the present. "Did you sit around doing nothing this whole time?"

"No," you reply. "I was training, mostly."

"Boring," Crosshair sneers, but his eyes are soft, and the look he gives you is teasing.

"I did manage to get a new scar, if that counts," you say, pointing to the healing cut above your eyebrow. "Had a run-in with a particularly unpleasant bounty hunter. She was faster than she looked."

"Ooh, lemme see," Wrecker says, and his hand finds your chin, tilting your face up. The gesture is casual, but the way his fingers stroke your cheek is not, and you shiver at the touch. He turns your face, his thumb brushing the healing skin, and the heat of his palm sears into your cheek. "Pretty nasty. You gonna live?"

"I think so," you manage, and his eyes sparkle with amusement.

"Good," he says. "Don't want anything happenin' to that pretty face of yours."

Someone makes a noise of protest, but you're too busy trying not to melt under Wrecker's gaze to notice who it was. His eyes flick over your features, his expression intense, and his fingers trail down the line of your jaw, coming to rest on your shoulder.

"Alright," Hunter cuts in. He slaps his hands on the table and stands, giving the two of you a pointed look. "Let's call it a night."

"But—"

"No buts," he says. "I can't watch this any longer."

Wrecker grumbles something under his breath, but he pulls his hand away, and the absence is nearly enough to make you whine.

"Fine," he huffs, rising from his seat. "See you all tomorrow."

You stand as well, your legs shaking. You're not sure how you're going to make it back to the ship, and the smirk on Wrecker's face tells you that he knows exactly what he's doing.

"Later," Crosshair says, his tone bored.

"Have a good night," Echo calls after you, his voice tight with discomfort. You glance back at him and offer an apologetic shrug, but he just waves you off. Tech is still buried in his datapad, oblivious, and Hunter gives you a long-suffering sigh as the two of you leave.

The walk back to the ship is agony. The sun has long since set, and the streets are dark, but the lights of the city are bright enough that it's not difficult to navigate. Still, the journey feels like an eternity, and every step sends a thrill of anticipation through your veins. You can feel Wrecker's presence behind you, his hand occasionally brushing against your back, his body close enough to touch.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" you ask as the two of you round the corner, putting some distance between yourselves and the others.

"Enjoying what?" he asks innocently.

"Teasing me," you reply, elbowing him in the side.

"Maybe a little," he grins, and the heat in his gaze makes you blush. "You know, it's hard not to be when you react like that."

"React like what?

"Like this," he murmurs, his hand sliding down your spine, coming to rest on the curve of your ass. His palm is hot and heavy, and the pressure is enough to make you gasp.

"I can't help it," you mutter, trying to ignore the desire that's pooling in your core.

"I know," he says, and his fingers squeeze, pulling you into his side. "And it's kriffing adorable."

"Shut up," you say, pushing against him. He laughs, the sound low and husky, and the way his eyes gleam in the dim light is more than a little distracting.

"Make me," he says, and his voice is teasing, but there's a note of challenge in it, and the implication sends a shiver down your spine. 

You turn to face him, and before you can second guess yourself, you reach out, taking hold of his armor and pulling him towards you.

Wrecker's lips meet yours in a searing kiss, and the force of it knocks the wind out of you. He backs you up against the wall, caging you in with his body, and his hands find your hips, lifting you up onto the tips of your toes. You moan against his mouth, and his tongue slips past your lips, his fingers digging into your flesh. The kiss is bruising, full of heat and want, and the way he moves against you, his body hard and solid, leaves you gasping for air.

He breaks the kiss, and his teeth nip at your lower lip, his hands wandering down, squeezing the swell of your ass. His breath is hot on your skin, his chest heaving, and the desire in his eyes is all-consuming.

"That shut you up," you whisper as his lips move down the column of your throat.

"Mhm," he mumbles. His tongue drags over the delicate skin, and you tilt your head back, giving him better access. "Keep doin' that, and I'll be quiet the rest of the night."

You laugh, the sound turning into a groan as his teeth sink into your flesh, biting down. His hands slide around to your back, pulling you flush against him, and his knee slips between your legs. The pressure against your core is enough to make you moan, and he chuckles against your skin.

"That's a dangerous game you're playing," you whisper, trying to catch your breath.

"Not the only one," he murmurs, his eyes finding yours. The hunger in his gaze makes your blood sing, and you swallow, trying to steady your pulse.

"True," you say, reaching up to cup his cheek. "But I'm not sure we should keep playing it. At least not until we get back to the ship."

He leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your lips, his tongue teasing the seam of your mouth. You open for him, and his hand comes up to cup the back of your head, holding you steady.

"Good point," he whispers as he pulls away, his nose brushing against yours.

"Come on," you say, and you nudge him backwards. Wrecker goes willingly, stumbling back a step, his eyes never leaving yours. "Let's go."

The two of you pick up the pace, and it's not long before you're making your way through the hangar bay towards the Marauder. There are a few people milling about the hangar, and a group of technicians working on a nearby ship, but none of them pay the two of you any attention as you approach the ramp.

The moment the door closes behind you, Wrecker pounces, pinning you against the wall, his mouth finding yours in a hungry kiss. You pull him closer, and he wraps his arms around you, lifting you up with ease. Your legs lock around his waist, and his hands slide down to grip the underside of your thighs, his fingers digging into the sensitive skin.

You break the kiss, your lungs screaming, and he moves down, pressing hot, wet kisses to the line of your throat. His mouth is warm and slick, his tongue leaving a burning trail along your collarbone. His hands find the hem of your shirt, and he pushes the fabric up, exposing your stomach.

"You really gonna keep quiet the rest of the night?" you ask, your voice hoarse.

"Do you want me to?" he murmurs, his nose brushing against the skin beneath your ear.

"Not particularly," you reply.

"Didn't think so," he says, and his teeth scrape against the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "You wanna know what I think?"

"What?"

"I think you like it," he growls. His hands slip beneath your shirt, his palms sliding up the curve of your waist. "I think you like it when I tell you how pretty you are, or how much I want you."

"Maybe," you whisper.

"It's okay," he murmurs, his fingers dancing across your skin. "I like it, too."

You moan, the sound soft and needy, and he laughs, the vibrations tickling the sensitive spot below your ear. Wrecker's mouth finds yours again, his tongue plunging past your lips. He tastes like the liquor the two of you were drinking earlier, and the heady mixture is enough to make your head spin.

He breaks the kiss, and the next thing you know, he's carrying you down the hall, his pace hurried. Within a few steps, the two of you are falling onto the bunk, a tangle of limbs.

You land on top of him, straddling his waist, and Wrecker groans, his hands coming to rest on your hips. You grind down against him, the movement sending a rush of heat through your body. The contact is dizzying, and you do it again, relishing the way his eyes flutter closed.

"Kriff, cyare," he breathes.

"I thought I was cyar'ika," you murmur.

"Both. Either. Doesn't matter," he says, his hands slipping beneath the hem of your shirt.

"I think it matters" you say, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his lips.

"You really wanna talk about Mando'a right now?" he asks, and the amusement in his voice makes you laugh. You pull back enough to let him pull the shirt up and over your head, leaving you bare save for your breast band.

"I guess not. I'd rather do something else," you whisper, and Wrecker's eyes darken, his pupils dilating. His gaze trails over your chest, and his hands follow suit, tracing the line of your ribs.

"Me too," he murmurs. His fingers ghost across the band of fabric covering your breasts, teasing the edges. You give a slight nod, and he hooks a finger underneath the material, pulling it up and over your head.

Your breasts bounce free, and his eyes lock on them, his gaze burning. His hands slide up your sides, cupping the swell of flesh, his palms hot and rough.

"Mesh'la," he murmurs. He leans forward, his lips finding the slope of your shoulder. "So kriffing beautiful."

The praise makes you blush, and he kisses his way down the length of your chest, his lips trailing over the curve of your breast. You tilt your head back, closing your eyes as he licks a circle around your nipple, his tongue leaving a hot, wet trail.

"Wrecker," you whimper, and the sound seems to spur him on. His mouth finds your breast, his lips closing around the tight bud, his tongue swirling. You moan, the feeling electric, and he hums in response, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh.

He sucks and bites at the stiff peak, his fingers rolling the other, and the twin sensations send a rush of heat through your body. It's almost too much, and you can't help but squirm, the desire pooling in your core. Wrecker’s armor presses against your thighs, the pressure almost painful, and the need to feel his skin on yours is overwhelming.

"Take it off," you pant, tugging at the shoulder plates.

"Bossy," he chuckles, and the sound sends a jolt of excitement through you.

"I think you like it," you say, throwing his own words back at him, and the wicked grin he gives you is all the answer you need.

"You're right," he replies. He reaches behind him, unclipping the pieces of his armor and setting them aside. The process is painstakingly slow, and you can't help but pout. But when you try to move his hands out of the way, he lifts you off his lap and sets you down on the mattress.

"Hey!"

"I'm going," he says, a grin on his face. "Don't worry."

Wrecker stands, and the sight of him towering above you, his broad frame blocking out the light, is enough to make you tremble. He strips off the pieces of armor with practiced efficiency, revealing the black undersuit beneath. You stare at him, your eyes roaming over the thickly corded muscles of his arms and chest, the taut fabric stretched across his abdomen.

"See somethin' you like?" he teases, and the sound of his voice draws you back to reality.

"Yes," you say, clearing your throat.

"Yeah?"

"Yes," you repeat with a smile.

"Good," he says. He kneels before you, his fingers finding the hem of your pants. He undoes the button, and you lift your hips, letting him slide the fabric down.

He takes a moment to admire you, his eyes trailing over the curves of your body. He hums in approval, his hand sliding up your leg, his fingers stroking the inside of your thigh.

"Beautiful," he murmurs.

You watch as his hand slips lower, and his thumb finds the edge of your underwear, the touch light and teasing. The sensation is enough to make you gasp, and he does it again, tracing a line along the seam. Your legs part instinctively, and his hand cups the apex of your thighs, his palm pressing against the damp fabric.

"You want more?" he asks, and the huskiness of his voice is enough to make you ache.

"Yes," you breathe.

He pulls the underwear off, and you lie back, spreading your legs, giving him a clear view of the most intimate parts of you. He groans at the sight, his eyes raking over the soft flesh, and his hands grip your knees, pushing them further apart. You feel exposed, but the look on his face is nothing short of reverent, and the desire in his eyes is enough to take your breath away.

"Mesh'la," he whispers, and then his head is between your legs, his tongue finding the sensitive flesh. The contact is electric, and you moan, the sound muffled by your fist. Wrecker chuckles, his eyes locking on yours as his mouth continues its work. His lips and tongue are soft and warm, and his fingers grip your hips, pulling you closer.

"Stars, Wrecker," you whimper, and he hums in response, the vibrations sending a jolt through your body. You gasp, and he smiles, his mouth never leaving the apex of your thighs. His tongue traces circles around the stiff bud, his fingers stroking the delicate skin.

You squirm under his ministrations, the sensation nearly overwhelming, and he holds you steady, his hands like steel. You grip the sheets, trying to ground yourself, but it's a futile effort. Wrecker is relentless, his mouth devouring every inch of flesh, his tongue probing, his teeth scraping, and the heat pooling in your belly threatens to consume you.

"Wrecker, I can't—"

He stops, pulling away with a wet smack. His face is glistening, his eyes burning, and the sight of him is enough to steal the words from your lips.

"Tell me," he growls, his hands tightening on your thighs.

"I can't—"

"Can't what, cyar’ika?" he murmurs, leaning in, his breath warm on the skin of your neck.

"Can't wait," you manage. "Please."

He laughs, his fingers stroking the sensitive flesh of your thighs. He presses a kiss to the side of your neck, and his hand slips between your legs, his fingers finding the apex of your folds. You groan, the contact almost too much to bear, and his fingers tease the edge, sliding along the slick skin.

"I'm gonna take my time with you," he says, his voice rough. "Gonna learn every inch of your body, every place that makes you feel good. And I'm gonna do it until you're a kriffing mess."

The words send a rush of heat through your body, and you can't help but arch into his touch, your hips rising off the bed. He grins, his fingers parting the slick folds, and you bite back a moan as he slides the digits along the length of the slit.

"So wet," he says, and the pride in his voice is obvious. "Mesh'la."

He leans down, his tongue darting out, tracing the same path his fingers had just followed. Wrecker takes his time, his mouth exploring every inch of the exposed flesh. By the time his tongue reaches the sensitive bud, you're trembling, the pleasure almost unbearable. His fingers press against your entrance, and you nod, giving him the go-ahead.

He slips a finger inside, and you clench around him, the feeling almost foreign. It’s been so long since you've done anything like this, and the stretch is unfamiliar, the sensation a strange combination of pleasure and discomfort. He moves slowly, his lips and tongue distracting you from the intrusion, and the discomfort fades, the pressure turning into a delicious fullness.

"You okay?" he asks, looking up at you, his lips still pressed against the apex of your thighs.

"Mhm," you reply, and you roll your hips, letting him know you're ready for more. He grins, and he presses another finger in, his tongue swirling around the stiff bud. The stretch is almost too much, and you gasp, the pleasure making your head spin.

Wrecker moves slowly, his fingers curling, probing, searching for that spot inside you. When he finds it, he rubs the tips against it, and the jolt of pleasure is enough to take your breath away.

"Fuck," you gasp.

"Yeah?" he asks, his eyes glinting with mischief.

"Yes," you whimper.

"More?"

"Yes, please," you beg. "Please."

He complies, his fingers pressing deeper, and you groan, the pleasure almost too much to bear. Your thighs shake, and he hooks his free arm around one of them, pulling you closer, his lips closing around the bud.

It doesn't take long before the heat coiling in your belly becomes too much to bear, and you can't hold back the moans spilling from your lips. Wrecker keeps up the pace, his fingers pumping, his mouth devouring, and it's only a few moments before the tension snaps.

You cry out, the sound swallowed by the bulkhead, and your thighs clamp around his head, trapping him. The air seems to ripple around you, the Force flowing through you, and the room fades, replaced by blinding white light. You're weightless, drifting in the current, the pleasure rippling through your body.

When you finally come down, the room has returned to normal, and the pressure of Wrecker's mouth is nearly too much. You push him away, and he looks up at you, a smirk on his face. His lips are wet and swollen, and his eyes are bright with lust.

"That was somethin' else," he murmurs, his voice hoarse.

"What did I do?" you ask, your voice shaking.

"Not sure," he replies. He presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, his tongue darting out, licking away the remnants of your climax. "But I liked it."

"Oh," you manage.

"You good?"

"Yeah," you breathe. "Really good. Stars, Wrecker, that was...”

"Just the beginning," he says, his hands finding your waist and flipping you onto your stomach. He pulls you up onto your knees, and the next thing you know, his tongue is on your folds again, the sensation making your legs tremble.

"Wrecker, what—"

"Told you I'd take my time," he murmurs, and his fingers slip inside you again, the pace agonizing. You groan, burying your face in the pillow, trying to muffle the sounds spilling from your lips. His hand slides up your spine, his fingers tangling in your hair, pulling your head back. "I wanna hear you."

"I can't," you whimper.

"I'll stop if you don't," he threatens. "Wanna hear how good I'm makin' you feel."

"Fine," you groan. "Don't stop. Please."

"Good girl," he says, and the words send a rush of heat straight to your core. You feel yourself clamp down around his fingers, and his other hand grips the curve of your ass, squeezing hard. "Fuck, that's hot."

You moan, the sound loud and needy, and he rewards you by sliding another finger inside. The stretch is almost painful, but the pleasure is worth it, and the thought of him inside you, filling you, sends a thrill of excitement through your body. You can't help but push back against him, grinding your hips against his face.

"Look at you," he says, and the awe in his voice is enough to bring tears to your eyes. "Fuck, you're perfect. So fuckin' perfect."

His mouth returns to its work, his tongue licking and sucking and teasing. Your legs tremble, and his arm wraps around your waist, holding you up as his fingers plunge deeper. The pleasure is overwhelming, and the room seems to fade around you, the only thing remaining the feeling of his mouth on your sex.

You can't think, can't breathe, can't do anything except take whatever he gives you. And the thought, the knowledge that you're completely at his mercy, is intoxicating. You surrender to the feeling, allowing yourself to let go, and the release is almost instantaneous.

You cry out, the sound torn from your throat, and the force of it threatens to knock you over. But Wrecker is there, his arms steadying you, his mouth coaxing every last ounce of pleasure from you. When the waves of bliss finally subside, you slump forward, the mattress soft against your cheek.

"Holy shit," you mutter, unable to form a coherent thought.

"Yeah," Wrecker says, his hand stroking the length of your spine. He leans over you, his mouth finding the soft skin behind your ear. His tongue darts out, licking the shell, and his breath is hot on your neck. "Still with me?"

"Barely," you whisper, and the sound of his laugh sends a shiver through you. You roll over slowly to find his face inches from yours, his smile wide and wicked. You reach up, cupping his cheek, and the softness in his eyes is enough to melt your heart.

"Hi," he murmurs.

"Hey."

He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. The tenderness is unexpected, and the taste of yourself on his mouth is more arousing than it has any right to be.

"I'm glad we're finally alone," he whispers, his nose brushing against yours. "Was about to explode."

"Mm," you reply. "Well, let's fix that."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you say, pushing him back. He sits up, and you move with him, swinging your leg over his waist. He watches you with hungry eyes, and the desire in his expression is enough to stoke the embers of your own. You can feel his cock straining against the fabric of his suit, the thickness hard and insistent, and the realization of just how badly he wants you is almost too much to bear.

You lean in, your mouth finding the side of his neck, and he groans, his hands coming up to rest on your hips. You nip and bite at the exposed flesh as your hands slip underneath the hem of his shirt, and you peel the fabric up, revealing his chest. He lifts his arms, and the two of you work together to pull the garment over his head, tossing it aside.

You run your hands over his broad chest, your fingers tracing the line of his muscles, his scars, his tattoos. The expanse of his skin is a map, a landscape, and you want to explore every inch. He sighs, his eyes closing, and the contentment in his expression is beautiful. You kiss him again, and he groans, his hand reaching up to cup the back of your head.

"I could kiss you forever," he murmurs.

"That would be nice," you reply, your lips moving down his throat.

"Mhm," he hums. "But right now, I really, really wanna fuck you."

The words send a shiver of desire through you, and you pull back, giving him a smirk. You slide back, and his hands move to the closure of his suit, undoing the catches with ease. The fabric parts, revealing the thick shaft beneath. The head is dark and swollen, and a drop of precome glistens at the tip.

"Kriff," you breathe. "You're—"

"Big?" he says, grinning.

You swallow, nodding. You've felt him through his clothes, the evidence of his desire more than clear, but the reality is something else entirely. He's larger than any partner you've ever had, and the thought of taking him, of feeling him inside you, is both terrifying and exhilarating.

"That's putting it mildly."

"We can wait," he offers, his hands finding your hips, his fingers stroking the sensitive skin. "Or take things slow. We don't have to do anything you're not ready for."

"I appreciate that," you say. "But I really, really want this."

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

He smiles, and his hand slips between your thighs, his fingers finding the slick skin. You gasp at the touch, rising up on your knees to pull his blacks down further. His cock springs free, the length curving up against his belly. He helps you pull the rest of the suit off, leaving the two of you bare before each other.

He sits up, his eyes raking over the planes of your body, his gaze hungry and possessive. He pulls you towards him, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, his mouth finding yours. His hands slide down your spine, cupping the swell of your ass, his fingers digging into the soft flesh.

"You sure about this?" he asks, his lips moving against yours.

"Very," you reply. You reach between the two of you, your fingers wrapping around his length. He groans, his head falling back, and his hips twitch, pushing into your grasp. Your fingers don't quite meet, the thickness impossible to fully encircle, and the size of him is daunting.

"You can change your mind," he says, and the words are choked, strained. "Just say the word."

"I won't," you say. "Trust me."

"Okay," he breathes, and the faith in his voice is enough to take your breath away. He leans back, and you raise yourself up on your knees, positioning him at your entrance. You take a deep breath, and then begin to lower yourself onto him. The head presses against the tight ring of muscle the sensation almost foreign. You press down, and the tip slips inside, the thickness stretching you.

"Shit," he mutters, his fingers gripping your hips. "Fuck, cyar'ika, you're so—"

The words turn into a loud, unrestrained groan as you sink down, taking him inch by inch. It takes time, the fullness overwhelming, but you persevere, the feeling of him inside you more intense than anything you've ever felt. The way his length fills you, stretching and stretching, the slight pain, the ache, the feeling of being whole, it's enough to drive all thoughts from your mind.

By the time Wrecker is nearly fully seated inside you, the both of you are trembling. He's panting, his eyes squeezed shut, his chest rising and falling in rapid breaths. You watch him, the sight of his reaction sending a rush of excitement through your body. It's the first time you've seen him lose control, and the knowledge that it's you, that you're the cause, is exhilarating.

You shift in his lap, grinding down on his cock, and he hisses, his teeth clenched. The pressure against the walls of your cunt is almost too much to bear, and it takes everything you have not to collapse. You lift yourself up slightly, testing the limits, and his grip on your hips tightens.

“Stay still,” he growls, and the command in his voice sends a thrill through you. “Don’t move.”

"Or what?" you ask.

Wrecker opens his eyes, his gaze burning into you. There's a dangerous glint there, and the promise in his expression is almost too much to take. You swallow, unable to look away. He smirks, and his hand comes up, his fingers wrapping around the back of your neck, holding you steady.

"Or I'm gonna have to fuck you into the kriffing mattress," he says, his voice rough. "You think you can handle that?"

"Maybe," you reply, and the confidence in your voice is surprising.

"Really?" he says. He shifts, his hips lifting off the mattress, and the movement pushes him deeper. The stretch is almost too much, but the sensation is exquisite, and the moan that escapes your lips is unabashedly desperate. "Sounds like you can't."

"I'm not convinced," you say, and the words come out more as a whine than a statement. Wrecker laughs, his lips curling into a smug smile. The expression should annoy you, but instead, it only adds to the heat pooling in your core. You like seeing him like this, confident and commanding, and the thought of letting him have his way with you is more than a little arousing.

"You're adorable," he says, and he tilts his head forward, his lips meeting yours in a searing kiss. You wrap your arms around him, and he pulls you closer, his other hand sliding down to the small of your back. The pressure is intoxicating, and you can't help but squirm, trying to find purchase. But he holds you steady, his mouth devouring yours.

He lifts you up, his hands gripping the curve of your ass, and his cock nearly slips out, the sudden emptiness jarring. But before you can complain, he's lowering you back down, sheathing himself inside you again.

"Oh," you whimper.

"Yeah," he murmurs. "You feel so good."

He lifts you again, and his pace is achingly slow, the movement careful, controlled. He's clearly holding back, and the knowledge that he's doing it for your benefit sends a rush of affection through you. You cup his face in your hands, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

"Wrecker," you say. "Please."

"You sure?"

"Yes," you hiss, your head tilting back as he slides home. "Please, I want—"

"Tell me what you want," he growls.

"You," you say, and the confession is more difficult than it should be. "All of you. Hard and fast and— Fuck!"

The breath leaves your lungs as he flips the two of you, his weight pinning you against the mattress. He slides a hand beneath your hips, tilting them up, and his lips find the curve of your neck, his teeth scraping against the sensitive skin.

"Don't say I didn't warn ya," he growls, and then his hips snap, driving him into you. The movement is quick and powerful, and the impact reverberates through your entire body. The thrust is accompanied by a wave of pleasure, the feeling intense and all-consuming, and it takes everything you have to hold on.

"Holy shit," you mutter, your eyes squeezing shut.

"You good?" he murmurs, his hands finding yours, his fingers intertwining with your own.

"So good," you whimper. You wrap your legs around his waist, trying to anchor yourself, but the motion seems to have the opposite effect. The slight shift in position is all the invitation he needs, and he drives into you again, the force enough to push you up the bed. The pleasure is almost blinding, and the room blurs, the edges of your vision darkening.

"More," you beg, the word torn from your throat.

"Anything," he breathes, and then his mouth finds yours, swallowing the moan that spills from your lips. His hips set a relentless rhythm, his cock pounding into you, the friction delicious. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer, and his mouth never leaves yours, his tongue plunging past your teeth. The taste of him, the smell of him, it's enough to send you reeling, and the world around you fades, replaced by a single, searing point of pleasure.

You lose yourself in the moment, the feeling of his body pressed against yours, the warmth and strength and power of him. He surrounds you, engulfs you, consumes you, and the intimacy of the act, the connection between the two of you, it's unlike anything you've ever felt. The sensation is overwhelming, and you're powerless to do anything except take whatever he gives you. You let go, surrendering yourself completely, and the feeling is almost euphoric.

"You feel so fuckin' good," Wrecker pants, and the words seem to echo, his voice distant. "Can't believe you're—fuck, cyar'ika, you're perfect."

The praise spurs you on, and the next thing you know, Wrecker is kneeling before you, pulling you towards him. His hands grip your waist, his fingers digging into the sensitive flesh, and his cock plunges deeper. You cry out, the sound echoing around the room, and he groans in response, his movements becoming erratic.

"Fuck," he grunts. His hands slide down, cupping the curve of your ass, and he lifts you off the mattress, impaling you on his cock. The angle is intense, and you can feel the tension coiling in your belly, the pressure threatening to burst.

"I'm close," you gasp, and he nods, his face twisted with pleasure. He's lost control, the steady rhythm giving way to desperate, frantic thrusts, and the knowledge that he's close to coming undone is intoxicating.

"Touch yourself," he manages. "Come on, cyar'ika, wanna feel you come on my cock."

You do as he says, reaching down and sliding your fingers through the wetness between your legs. The contact is enough to push you over the edge, and you come hard, the orgasm tearing through you. The room goes dark, the pleasure nearly blinding, and the air seems to vibrate, the Force surging through you. You can't breathe, can't think, can't do anything except let it wash over you.

You feel yourself clamp down around Wrecker's cock, the walls of your cunt spasming, and he gasps, the sound raw and primal. He thrusts once, twice, and then his hips stutter, and he drives himself deep, the force of his climax making the bed shake. You feel his cock pulse inside you, filling you, and the warmth of his seed sends another wave of pleasure rippling through your body.

It seems to go on forever, the two of you riding out the aftershocks. You're trembling, and tears are spilling down your cheeks, but you can't bring yourself to care. You pull him close, your mouth finding his, and the kiss is sloppy, needy, the two of you too far gone to do anything except cling to each other.

When it's over, Wrecker rolls the two of you over, pulling you into his arms. His chest is rising and falling in rapid breaths, and his heart is pounding, the beat so loud you can hear it. You rest your head on his shoulder, your arm draped across his chest, and he pulls you closer, his nose buried in the top of your head.

"Holy shit," he breathes.

"That good, huh?"

"Good doesn't even cover it," he says. "Stars, that was...fuck, cyar'ika, that was somethin' else."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should," he murmurs. "Fuck."

You laugh, the sound muffled by his skin. He chuckles in response, and his hand strokes your back, his fingers tracing circles on your spine. You sigh, the touch soothing, and you close your eyes, letting the tension leave your body. You're exhausted, and the thought of moving is nearly unbearable. You’re more content than you can remember being in a long, long time.

"Don't fall asleep," he says. "Not yet."

"Too late," you murmur, the words slurred.

"Hey," he says, and his tone is gentle, teasing. "At least let me get a towel or something."

"Fine," you grumble.

He laughs, and the bed shifts as he gets up, the loss of his body heat jarring. You shiver, curling into yourself, and the next thing you know, he's pressing a damp cloth between your legs. The contact is enough to wake you up, and the realization of what's happening is both embarrassing and endearing.

"Wrecker," you say, pushing his hand away. "I can do that."

"Sorry," he mutters. "Should've asked."

"It's okay," you say, and the sincerity in your voice seems to reassure him. "I just don't want you doing all the work."

"I don't mind," he says, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. "I like takin' care of you."

"And I like taking care of you," you reply. "Which is why I want you to come back to bed."

"Okay, okay," he says, smiling. He tosses the towel aside, and the bed dips as he climbs in next to you, his body pressed flush against yours. The feel of his skin on yours is soothing, and you can't help but melt into his touch. He's solid and warm and real, and the knowledge that he's here, that he wants you, is more comforting than anything else.

"Mesh'la," he whispers.

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

You turn, burying your face in the crook of his neck. His arms wrap around you, his body enveloping yours, and the words come easily.

"I love you, too."

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