Midnightoncoruscant - Still Broken, Still Discordant

Going through this too right now - wish I had Wrecker though ❤️❤️❤️ - this is so lovely and I wish I could just squish it to my chest and keep it there

Bygones Are Bygones

Pairing: Wrecker x GN!Reader

Summary: After falling out with friends, you find comfort in your favorite guy.

Warnings: Fluffy and some angsty friendship sads

Word Count: 647

A/N: this is totally not me processing a real life situation 👀

You were quiet. Unusually so, in fact but you just couldn’t shake the whole body permeating ache. It had been months since the fallout with your friendships but some days… some nights… you beat yourself up over how you could have done things differently. The ‘maybes’ and the ‘what ifs’ echoed in your mind the like the reverberations of the bass in 79s on Party Primeday.

Wrecker’s strong and warm touch returned you to the present. His large calloused hands tenderly squeezed and caressed your tense shoulders with an affection so deep it bled into your bones and provided instant comfort.

“Thinkin’ ‘bout Ess n’ Kae again.” The soft rumble of his voice was a statement instead of a question. A gentle reminder of how well he could read you.

You hummed a quiet affirmative. Denying the reality of his statement was futile.

“Wanna talk?” Sweet, sweet Wrecker. Always so deeply emotionally astute. He read you and everyone else around him like a munitions manual.

You shook your head with a sigh. “It’s just the same things. Again. I don’t want to burden you with repetitive whining. But thanks Wreck.”

His arms snaked around you, strong and protective. You melted some as your back pressed into his chest. For being so big and muscular, his sweet and gentle nature made his hugs softer than the softest plushies.

“Nuh-uh, mesh’la. If ya need ta talk, ya talk. I don’ care if ya’ve said it a thousand times before.”

His firm insistence crumbled your resolve immediately and the words spilled out once more. Just as they had countless times before.

“I just… I was content being cordial with Ess. We even apologized to each other. And then I find out they were bad mouthing me to my new friend group! And Kae… kriff… that one hurts more. The fact that they just started ignoring me. Heck I’d hoped we’d reconcile but clearly that isn’t going to happen. Just…” a frustrated and hurt sigh escaped your lips. “I know I made mistakes. I’m not too proud to admit that Wreck. But kriff it hurts. And not a karkin word. Just ghosted.”

Wrecker’s arms around you tightened as his chin came to rest on your head. His fingers traced soft patterns into the skin of your stomach. The muscles fluttered and you huffed a soft chuckle as his featherlight touch tickled you.

“What would ya say to ‘em. Right now. If ya could?”

You pursed your lips momentarily before uttering, “We don’t have to be friends anymore, but I’d also prefer it if we weren’t enemies. And I am sorry for my part in the dissolution of our friendship.”

The rumble in his chest made you cuddle closer. One hand came to your cheek, holding your face with intuitive softness and you smiled. You loved how safe you always felt with him.

“Anythin’ else?”

You shook your head as you looked up at him. In spite of the pain that still ached in your chest, the warmth of his affection spread deeper and more quickly.

“Thank you Wrecker. You’re so sweet. And smart. And patient…”

Wrecker laughed and pulled you closer. “Course cyare. ‘M always gonna listen. Always gonna be here for ya.”

You pulled up and kissed his jaw before nuzzling beneath his chin.

“Want to watch a holo tonight?”

“Haha! Hell yeah I do! Whatcha thinkin’?”

“Comedy?”

Wrecker growled playfully and pulled you in, kissing and squeezing you until you were all consumed with giggles. He wrapped the massive blanket on the sofa around you both as you curled up in his lap and turned on the holovision.

You watched the holofilm quietly, his steady heartbeat a soothing balm to the raw and healing emotional wound of your lost friendships. And while bygones are bygones, you took comfort in knowing that Wrecker was by your side no matter what.

Ragu List: @secondaryrealm @sev-on-kamino @dystopicjumpsuit @mooncommlink @starrylothcat

@starqueensside @mandos-mind-trick @the-rain-on-kamino @multi-fan-dom-madness @808tsuika

@msmeredithrose @trixie2023 @mythical-illustrator @wings-and-beskar

@wizardofrozz @523rdrebel @littlemissmanga @sinfulsalutations @the-bad-batch-baroness

@dickarchivist @eclec-tech @dreamie411 @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @cw80831

@flyiingsly @eternal-transcience @nahoney22

hi!! just read both of your wrecker works and rineicbeijcwjkdjs LOVED THEM!! wrecker’s my fav of tbb and i really feel like he needs more love😭 i'm gonna be checking out some of your other works later lol

anyways i saw that you were taking requests, so i went through your prompt list and saw two that caught my eye. they're 24. “You need to wake up because I can't do this without you.” and 18. “I almost lost you.”

i was wondering if you could write something with those prompts for wrecker please? like tbb + reader were able to rescue omega, crosshair, and tech (i am believer in tech surviving season 2 finale), but the reader got seriously injured during the rescue and is now in a coma. wrecker would be the one to say the prompts and it would be angsty like wrecker thinking the reader might die. but please let this end happily.

other than those details i trust your writing skills and process for anything! take your time writing, there's absolutely no rush!! and again your writing is soooo awesome!!😊😊

Well hello there!

I'm so glad you enjoyed those fics, and thank you for popping this request in - so sorry it's taken me so long to write it! I had a lot of fun with this one, and I hope it hits the spot 😁

I guess it's also technically canon divergent now S3 is out, haha 😅

Through the Darkness

No one said rescuing the rest of the Batch from Mount Tantiss would be easy - you just didn't expect it to go like this.

Pairing: Wrecker x F!reader

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: canon typical violence, reader in a coma for a bit, little bit of angst, but also dashes of hope, happily ever after.

Translations: sarad - flower

Hemlock has his hands on you, his blaster pressed to your temple. The sounds of fighting cease. Dead TK Troopers litter the floor. Wrecker and his siblings freeze, slowly lowering their weapons.

Your back is pressed to Hemlock’s chest, and there isn’t a clean shot at him.

“Anyone moves and your dear liaison will pay the price,” Hemlock states.

Rage flows through Wrecker. You were in danger, too far for him to grab and shield, and he had no idea what to do. He glances at his siblings – Omega curled against Hunter’s side with weariness painted on her face, Tech leaning heavily against Echo for support as his body protests the prolonged time standing. Crosshair had peeled off from the group earlier, searching for what or who none of them was sure. They were all back together again. A family again. He wasn’t about to let Hemlock take you from them.

Shakes start in your thighs, slowly creeping up your body until your arms and hands tremble, too. You’ve been in dangerous situations before, had your life threatened before - but you’re certain Hemlock would do it. The man is crazy and will stop at nothing to get his hands on your family. The sound of his verbal back and forth with Hunter is like white noise.

The slightest movement in the rafters above catches your attention, and your eyes dart up. Battered and bruised, Crosshair has found a vantage point and a rifle. Those hawkish eyes meet yours, and a silent conversation is shared. You do the maths. There’s only one way out of this. Thank the Maker you still trust him, even after everything.

You give an almost imperceivable nod, knowing he’ll catch it. You flick your gaze to the others, taking one last look, just in case. Echo, who’d joined you all near the end of the war and had so seamlessly slipped into the fold of your family. Tech, worse for wear after his fall on Eriadu, but with that same solid determination in his eyes. Hunter, the man who’d welcomed you into the squad all those years ago, listened when you shared your thoughts and didn’t make a fuss when you broke terrible news to them about the next mission. Omega, trying to hide her fear through bravery – so much for a young girl with such a pure heart to endure. And Wrecker, the imposing force of a man who’d always put himself between you and danger, who reached for you at every opportunity and consoled you when things had gotten too much – the man you’d quietly loved for some time.

With a shaky breath, you close your eyes, placing all your faith in Crosshair. The quiet sniper who’d at first sneered at you and flicked toothpicks in your face before he’d thawed out and helped perfect your aim, taught you how to use his rifle, and what to look out for when scouting.

The sound of his shot reverberates around the hanger, and milliseconds later, searing pain tears through your shoulder, pulling a piercing cry from your lips. Legs giving out, you crumple, welcoming the cold durasteel you hit.

You don’t know if they all made it out, but you pray they did.

Wrecker hasn’t moved in weeks, refusing to leave you alone. The memory of you being shot won’t leave him; the sound of your agony is stuck on repeat. You’d been in bacta for what felt like forever, the shiny skin on your shoulder a testament to its healing power, but it wasn’t enough to wake you from the coma you’d slipped into. Pabu’s only Doctor had insisted on removing you from the tank once your physical wounds had healed, transferring you to a standard medical bed.

Crosshair’s shot had torn through your shoulder, but the angle had been perfect. Wrecker hadn’t expected any less from his little brother. The bolt had exited you and entered Hemlock, hitting him straight in the chest. A kill shot. That hadn’t killed you. Or so Wrecker hoped. Even if you woke, your shoulder would likely ache for the rest of your life, and your arm would not be as strong as before.

The sound of the door opening pulls Wrecker’s gaze from your prone form and across the small room in Pabu’s clinic. Crosshair slides through the crack in the door, thin lips pressed together, brow pinched. He visits often, guilt in his eyes every time he looks you over. You might’ve okayed the shot, but it still tore at the sniper’s soul to have hurt you.

“Nothing?” Crosshair rasps, sticking close to the door as he glances between you and his brother. He’d never admit it, but fear was starting to settle in his gut. If you didn’t wake…

“Nothin’.” Wrecker confirms, shoulders slumped. “Been talkin’ to her. Doc said she might be able to hear us. Not that it’s doin’ much good.” He sighs, gaze shifting back to you. “Told her we all got out okay. That you and Tech and the kid are alright. Don’t want her worryin’.”  

Crosshair makes a slight noise, acknowledging his brother’s words as his gaze lingers on your prone form.

“You stayin’ a bit?” Wrecker asks, using one foot to push out the spare chair at his side – the rest of their siblings often visited, too.

Hesitating, Crosshair lets out a small sigh as he moves across the room, lowering himself silently into the chair. He hadn’t stayed before, preferring to flit in for any news before disappearing. It hurt too much to see you this way, knowing he’d caused it. That and he was still working through everything that had happened during his time with the Empire, trying to fix his relationships with his siblings. But Wrecker needed him, so he’d stay.

You’d always hated the dark.

The shadows surround you, pressing in from all sides. Yet amidst the inky darkness, you find yourself standing in a solitary spot of light, its glow offering a semblance of warmth amidst the chill of the void. The lights kept appearing, and you’d learned quickly that when a new one glistened on the horizon, you had to run for it before the light you were already standing in disappeared. 

You’d lost track of how many lights you’d chased so far. 

Each one varied in intensity – sometimes brilliant beacons, other times mere flickers barely piercing the gloom. Yet, regardless of their brightness, they all held a magnetic pull, drawing you forward with an unyielding force. And each time you reached one, a brief respite washed over you, a fleeting moment before the next journey into the unknown began.

Scanning the horizon, you spot another light starting to beckon, its faint glow a promise of safety. With a heavy heart, you know what you need to do.

Taking a deep breath, you burst into a sprint. Each step forward is a battle against the darkness, its tendrils reaching out like icy fingers, eager to drag you into its embrace. Goosebumps prickle your arms, heart pounding as fear gnaws at your insides, but a stubborn determination fuels your movements. You can’t afford to falter, to succumb to the darkness, not after everything.

Worry lingers at the edge of your consciousness, a constant reminder of uncertainty. What lay beyond the lights? Will you ever find your way back to the world you once knew? The questions taunt you, echoing in your mind relentlessly the longer you spend here.

Yet, a glimmer of hope remains amidst the fear and uncertainty. Though the darkness threatens to overwhelm you, there must be a reason for the light. There has to be something causing it. Blessing you with it. Giving you these small moments of respite and keeping you in one piece. 

You keep going. One foot in front of the other.

A shove yanks Wrecker out of sleep, and the big man jolts awake with a small yelp.

Crosshair snickers, leaning back in his seat, drawing his hand back towards his chest. “Sleeping on the job, vod.” He can’t help but jibe, his smirk melting into a frown at the sound of Wrecker’s stomach growling. “When’s the last time you ate?” He asks. He hadn’t wanted to wake him, seeing him finally getting some rest, but the sun was high in the sky now, and Crosshair knew it wouldn’t be long until Omega and Hunter swung by.

Blinking, Wrecker’s mind takes a moment to catch up with the fact he’s awake. “Urm, yesterday? Maybe?” He guesses, not really sure. The days were starting to blend together.

With a huff, Crosshair stands, long legs unfolding. “Will get you something. Can’t wither away before she wakes.” He mutters, grateful for the opportunity to leave and not have to sit any longer in silence with his feelings – he’d done enough of that for the day.

With a slight nod of appreciation, Wrecker watches as Crosshair heads out the door, hearing the gentle click of it shutting behind him. Hand wiping over his face, Wrecker shifts in the chair, stretching a little. But he can’t avoid the inevitable forever, and although it pains him, he looks you over for what feels like the millionth time. 

Despite his imposing stature, he feels powerless.

He hadn’t been able to protect you - the woman he loves. He’s loved you since the moment he first met you in the hanger of a Venator, as you’d been assigned to him and his brothers as their liaison. You’d offered them a smile that had rendered him speechless, and his booming laughter had then filled the hanger when you’d quipped back at Crosshair as he'd sneered about them not needing a babysitter.

You kept them on their toes and blended in so seamlessly with their chaotic lives.

Without an audience, Wrecker clears his throat, leaning forward in his seat to gently take your tiny hand in his much larger one. “I hope ya can hear me, sarad.” He starts, voice mellow. “Been a few weeks now since we got ’em back.” He’s not sure how much you’re aware of, if the passing of time is something you’re experiencing. “Cross was just here. Finally sat for a bit. Think he feels guilty.” Wrecker pauses, brows furrowing, face pinching. “I feel guilty. Should have protected ya, kept ya close.” Wrecker’s voice cracks a little, emotion seeping through. 

“We’re all here, though. Ain’t leavin’ ya, no matter what. Can’t wait for ya to wake up and tell us all how much trouble we’re in.” He chuckles softly, a hint of sadness in the sound. “Just...ya need to wake up ’cause I can’t do this without you.” He admits, a well of emotion pressing down on his chest.

Wrecker’s words hang heavy in the air, the weight of his emotions palpable even in the silence of the clinic. He wishes he could shake this feeling of helplessness and do more than just sit by your side, waiting for a sign of life. But for now, all he can offer is his unwavering presence and a steady stream of conversation, hoping against hope that somewhere within your subconscious, you can hear him.

Keep going. You need to keep going.

The darkness claws at you, desperate to slow you down and draw you into its embrace. But the light grows closer with every step you take, with every thud of your heart as you race forward. Amidst your footsteps echoing in the void is the faintest whisper of something familiar.

No.

Not something.

Someone.

“Wreck!” You cry out into the darkness, feet faltering for a second as you recognise the deep voice. The darkness tries to take advantage of your momentary hiccup, but with a yelp, you pick up your pace. The hope that lingers in your heart explodes. As you draw closer to the light, Wrecker’s voice comes into focus. “Ain’t leavin’ ya, no matter what.”

With renewed determination, you push yourself harder, every muscle in your body screaming for rest, but you refuse to give in. The light grows brighter, its warmth now palpable against your skin.

And then, just as you’re on the verge of stepping into the light, a sudden force knocks you off balance, sending you sprawling onto the cold, hard ground. Panic grips your chest as you scramble, desperate to continue your pursuit.

But the darkness has other plans, closing in around you like a suffocating blanket, obscuring the light. Amidst the coldness creeping through your body, you cling to the memory of Wrecker’s voice, a lifeline in the darkness.

Body straining, you crawl forward, ignoring the pain and exhaustion, determination burning bright within you. You don’t belong in the darkness. You belong in the light. With them. With him.

Straining, you reach out an arm, trembling fingers skimming the edge of the light as Wrecker’s voice comes through loud and clear. “…ya need to wake up ’cause I can’t do this without you.”

The darkness recoils. 

With a final surge of strength, you propel yourself forward, breaking free from the suffocating grip of the void. The light envelops you, wrapping you in its warm embrace as the shadows recede into the distance, getting further and further away. Relief floods through you, tears of joy mingling with sweat on your cheeks.

Head tilting back, you look up at the light, a bubble of laughter escaping as you bask in the glow. Eyes fluttering shut, you savour the moment. Yet this time, when you open your eyes, there’s no darkness or blinding light anymore. 

You blink. Once. Twice. The soft hum of medical equipment fills the air. And there, beside you, is Wrecker, head bowed, the weight of his hand wrapped around yours. 

Everything seems to freeze except the frantic thudding of your heart. “Wreck…” You whisper, your voice hoarse from disuse as you dare to hope you’re back. Really back. 

Wrecker’s head jolts up at the rasped sound of his name, his good eye widening as he meets your gaze, your name falling from his lips as his features crumple, a heaving sob of relief escaping him.

You slowly sit up, wincing at the ache that shoots through your shoulder. It’s still tender, but the pain is nothing compared to the overwhelming flood of emotions that wash over you at the sight of Wrecker’s tear-streaked face. 

You reach out, cupping his cheek in your hand, the warmth of his skin grounding you in reality. “I’m here.” You murmur softly, your voice barely above a whisper, unsure if you’re trying to convince yourself or him.

Wrecker’s grip tightens around your hand as if afraid you might slip away again if he lets go. He leans into your touch, his words catching in his throat momentarily before he stands, leaning over the bed to envelop you in an embrace, protective yet gentle, conscious of your shoulder. “You’re back.” He murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “Thought I almost lost ya.”

Weak but grateful, you return his embrace, feeling the warmth of his presence washing over you, grounding you in reality. A lump forms in your throat at the thought of him worrying about you, thinking he would lose you. “Not going anywhere, big guy.” You reassure him, sniffling as you try to keep a lid on your emotions. “The others?” You ask cautiously, dread curling in your gut. 

“All made it,” Wrecker confirms, arms slowly uncurling from around you as he sits back in his chair, hand scooping up yours so he can maintain some contact. 

Your dread is swept away and replaced immediately by relief; this time, you don’t bother holding back your sobs.

“No cryin’, pretty girl. Please.” Wrecker’s heart aches at the sight, his free hand moving to cup your face and wipe away the tears.

You smile through your tears, overwhelmed by the flood of emotions. Wrecker’s touch is like a lifeline. “Sorry.” You manage to choke out between sobs, trying to reign in your feelings. “Just...so relieved.”

Wrecker offers you a tender smile. “No need to apologise, sarad,” he murmurs softly, his voice filled with warmth and reassurance. A bolt of courage has him leaning forward to gently kiss your forehead.

As Wrecker’s lips meet your forehead, warmth seeps through you, chasing away the last remnants of the dark coldness. He pulls back a little, his gaze meeting yours, and the air feels electric. Without a word, you lean forward, closing the distance between you as your lips finally meet his in a soft, tentative kiss. 

And you realize that amidst the chaos and darkness, love has always been the guiding light, leading you back to where you belong.

Tag list: @clonethirstingisreal @starrylothcat @cw80831 @dreamie411 @issa-me-bry-blog @leftealeaf @isaidonyourknees

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Cody’s New ARC

(There’s more coming probably tomorrow)

Hello friend! I couldn't find any rules for requests on your blog, so hopefully this one's okay, and if not feel free to ignore it!

Would you be okay with doing a little something based on the idea that all five of the bad batch boys realize that they're all in love with their medic reader? Like maybe they all just KNOW that their other brothers feel the same way about the reader and what they do about it? Do they all talk it over in private? do they just silently start trying to one up each other as a secret competition for her heart? Do they maybe go to the reader themselves instead? Or maybe they decide sharing is caring?? I'd love to hear your take on this concept, headcanons or a fic or whatever you're inspired to do with this idea it's all fine by me!

Please and thank you and also I hope you have a good weekend 💗

I have had the BEST time with this ask, and I hope you love it. This is deffo one I could write about from different angles all day long. I love the boys, but they provide more inspiration than I know what to do with, so this is only part 1 😬 if you had something else in mind, don’t hesitate to let me know. you know I’m always down to write about the boys 🥰

The Bad Batch x afab!Reader

warnings: mention of injury, nothing graphic, poly no clonc*st, Crosshair pining 👀

Part 2

word count: 3721 (*self control left the chat*)

The Havoc Marauder was never quiet, and now was no exception. Wrecker’s snores, Tech’s tinkering, Echo’s quiet muttering in his sleep, the barely audible sounds of Hunter fiddling with his knife. But there was a hole of silence in the quilt of sound, and it was shaped like you. It’s been 15 rotations, not that Crosshair’s counting, without your laugh ringing out, without your back popping loudly as you stretched when you woke up, without your voice whispering his name, as you sleepily let him know it was his turn on watch.

The five of them had been together, and they’d never needed or wanted anyone else in their space, on their team. Crosshair hadn’t even wanted you around at first. Wrecker had warmed to you quickly, but of course a pretty thing like you would never need the hard sell with Wrecker. Hunter had been wary of you, but in an effort to keep Wrecker from getting too attached, he’d inadvertently formed his own attachment to your presence. As for Tech and Echo, they’d kept their distance well enough, but your quiet intelligence, and curiosity had drawn them in.

Crosshair had been the holdout. Incensed by every breath you drew in his presence. The way you checked in with him after every mission, as if he needed you poking and prodding him. But when he needed stitches, you’d asked for permission to help him. If he didn’t want you to touch him, you wouldn’t.

“I’d never do anything without your consent. You’re in control here,” you’d said, holding your kit in steady hands, as you waited for his decision. He’d watched you with rapt attention through the mirror, your fingers resting gently against his skin, as you carefully cleaned, stitched up, and bandaged the wound on his shoulder.

After that, he would silently request your assistance when he needed it, and over time even when he didn’t need it. He would never say it out loud, but bacta patches placed by your gentle hands worked better. Your stitches were nearly painless. And the way you’d hum while you worked…well, that was just adorable.

When Commander Cody had requested you for a short stint, Wrecker had grumbled endlessly, and Crosshair had been the first to tell him to suck it up because you’d be back in their hair soon enough. He needed the space to clear his head, and he hoped the others would come to their senses without you in their presence.

Wrecker admitted to missing you within 12 hours. Tech kept finding excuses to talk about you. Meanwhile Hunter and Echo kept pointing out things you would like, and setting them aside for you. They had also placed bets on when Crosshair would snap and march onto the Negotiator to steal you back. Not that they would be upset if he did.

When it became clear that Crosshair would rather eat his armor than admit to being the least bit interested in you, the four of them had dragged him into the cockpit to decide what they would do when you returned. The feelings were there, and they weren’t going anywhere, but how to proceed.

“We should just come out and say it!” Wrecker said, feeling like the matter was concluded.

“It needs to be a tad more romantic than that,” Echo said shaking his head.

“According to my observations of her, she would appreciate a romantic gesture,” Tech said.

“Flowers?” Wrecker offered.

“She deserves more than flowers for putting up with us,” Echo said laughing.

“We could make a stop on her home world. It’s not too far out of the way,” Hunter added. “I think she’d like that.”

“This is a waste of time,” Crosshair said rolling his eyes. “You’re fooling yourselves.”

“When have Hunter’s senses ever been wrong?” Tech asked not even bothering to look up. “According to what he’s told me, she’s at the very least physically attracted to us. Based on her behavior that extends to an emotional bond as well.”

“What happened to not getting attached?” Crosshair challenged, and his brothers all looked at each other before looking back at him.

“You know you’re not as subtle as you think, Crosshair,” Echo said.

“And if I can tell how anyone’s feeling, it’s the four of you,” Hunter added.

“You’re all delusional,” Crosshair said shaking his head.

“You had her put a bacta patch on your arm last mission, and you coulda done it yourself,” Wrecker said giving the sniper a playful shove.

“She is our medic, she should at least pretend to do a job around here,” Crosshair said defensively. It was a losing battle, and he knew it. The others were blissfully under your spell, but he was not about to let you hurt him. Not about to let you reject him. No matter how badly he wanted you.

But as the clock rolled into the 16th rotation without you, it was Crosshair who hated your absence more than anyone. The others were open about it in their own ways, but he held it close. It was one of the few secrets he’d kept from his brothers. The realization annoyed him, as he swung his long legs over the side of his bunk to take over on watch for Hunter.

Sensing the tension rolling off of his younger brother, Hunter cleared his throat.

“She’ll be back in 2 rotations, and you’ll get to sleep longer again.” He knew it wasn’t sleep Crosshair was after, but it was the best way to let him know you were on your way back without suggesting the sniper actually missed you lest they wind up in another argument.

“Oh good, the little doctor will be back to baby Wrecker again, and you can all confess your love, and live happily ever after,” Crosshair sneered, but Hunter knew him well. There was no bite in his tone, and his face was more relaxed than Hunter had seen it since you waved goodbye and disappeared into the Negotiator.

“She just commed to see if we could pick her up before our next mission, and I almost said no,” Hunter said absently, as Crosshair dropped into the co-pilot’s seat. It wasn’t true, but he could hear Crosshair’s heart racing, his teeth grinding in frustration.

“I thought you were dying to have her back,” Crosshair bit out.

“Well, Cody’s really wanting to keep her, and it would be a great opportunity for her,” This part was true, but he knew he shouldn’t tease his brother this way even though he was sure whatever doubt your absence hadn’t wiped out, would be obliterated by jealousy.

“Commander Cody has a squad of medics. He doesn’t need her,” Crosshair replied, scoffing. The thought of Cody trying to tempt you away from them with a Star Destroyer and a Jedi annoyed Crosshair down to his bones. You wouldn’t be swayed by a big ship, and fancy toys. Would you?

“You’ve got a point,” Hunter began before putting the last nail in the coffin. “He doesn’t need her…maybe he just wants her.”

He could hear Crosshair’s heart thumping wildly, as he tried to maintain his composure.

“Doubt it,” Crosshair grumbled after several moments spent working to unclench his jaw.

“Guess we’ll find out,” Hunter said, rising from the pilot’s chair. “The call’s recorded, so you can watch it, and see for yourself.”

“I’m sure she’ll never shut up about it when she’s back,” Crosshair said dismissively.

Humming softly with a shrug, Hunter said good night, and left Crosshair alone. The sharpshooter waited until he was sure Hunter was asleep before playing your conversation.

As your form appeared, bathed in blue, a smile tugged at Crosshair’s lips. Had you always been this beautiful?

“Hi, Sarge! It’s so good to see you. I’ve missed you boys like crazy,” you nearly moaned.

He’d never heard you make a sound like that. He immediately thought of you making that sound just for him, which annoyed him, but he couldn’t stop listening.

“We miss you too, cyar’ika. I’m sure you’re having fun though,” Hunter replied.

“It’s been nice to stretch my legs a bit and put some of the things I’ve learned to use. Commander Cody’s amazing…he’s uh, asked me if I want to stay on,” You look shy, nervous.

“Oh, is that uh, something you’re interested in?”

“Don’t get me wrong the Negotiator is spectacular, and I’ve enjoyed my time with the 212th,” you bite your lip, shifting your weight. You seem unsure if you should continue. After a moment, you pressed on, “but they’re missing a few things I can’t live without, so I’d like to come home, back to the Marauder I mean.”

“We’ll be glad to have you back,” Hunter replied.

“Good,” You look so relieved. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you boys since I left. Are you getting enough quiet time? Are Tech and Echo sleeping? Is Wreck staying out of trouble? Is Cross eating properly?”

Crosshair barely hears the rest of conversation because he can’t get past the part where you miss them, where you were worried about him.

“I’ll be all packed up and ready to go in two rotations. Do you mind coming to get me?” Your needy tone shakes Crosshair out of his thoughts. “I could get a shuttle, but it would take another rotation or two, and I don’t think I can wait that long.”

Crosshair realized he couldn’t either. He needed you back immediately. Sooner, really.

“Of course, doll,” Hunter says soothingly. “Two rotations, and we’ll be there.”

Reassured, your shoulders relax, “Wonderful! I can’t wait to see all of you! I’m sure Crosshair has enjoyed the break from me, but I’ve missed him so much. I miss all of you, Hunter.” Your voice is so tender, it makes his heart clench.

He had not enjoyed the break at all though. Between his brothers giving him a hard time, and wanting you back, he was miserable.

Two rotations. It wouldn’t be long now.

***

Crosshair’s leg was bouncing, as the Marauder docked with the Negotiator. You were so close, almost home.

The five of them boarded the Star Destroyer, and Crosshair’s eyes began searching for you immediately. Cody was there to greet them, grasping Hunter’s arm in welcome.

“Good to see you, Commander,” Hunter said warmly.

“Good to see you too, Sergeant,” Cody began, “I’m not going to lie, I tried to keep your medic. She’s brilliant, and the men adore her.”

“Of course they do,” Wrecker’s pride in you is evident.

“She said the Negotiator was missing a few necessities,” Cody quirked an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“She’s quite mistaken. The Havoc Marauder is not equipped with even 10% of what a Republic Venator has,” Tech says, brow furrowed.

“It doesn’t have Gonky,” Wrecker said as though it were obvious.

“It doesn’t have the five of you either!” you quipped, appearing at Cody’s elbow.

“Cyar’ika!” Wrecker bellowed, scooping you up and spinning you around.

“Wrecker!” you squealed as you returned his hug as tightly as you could

Crosshair’s heart was pounding again. He waited at the back of the group, watching his brothers welcome you back. Pressing their foreheads to yours, ghosting their fingers over your jaw, holding the back of your head gently. Then you were standing in front of him. Arms clasped behind your back, not reaching for him as you had the others. Respecting his space as always.

“I’m happy to see you too, Cross. Ready to deal with me every day again?”

“Are you ready to deal with me? All of us, again?”

“Ready and looking forward to it!” Your smile is bright and he nearly reached for you then, but he stopped himself.

“Well, Commander, you know where to find us, if you need us…or our medic again,” Hunter said with a grin.

“It was an honor serving alongside the 212th, Commander. I appreciate the opportunity,” You saluted Cody, and the others followed suit.

“The pleasure was all ours,” Cody returned the salute, and watched as the six of you returned to the Marauder.

***

You’re getting settled back into your space on the Marauder, answering questions from Wrecker, curious about the armory and ordnance, and Tech pestering you for every detail about the Negotiator, as Echo and Hunter wait to get a word in edgewise.

“Come on, boys. Give her some breathing room,” Hunter says, scooting them towards the cockpit, ignoring their protests.

“It’s good to have you back, saraad,” Echo said with a soft smile, that made your heart skip a beat.

You smile fondly at them as they go, going back to unpacking your things, and changing.

Crosshair is in his bunk, pretending he’s not watching you, but he can’t focus on anything else. Every inch of skin you reveal is making his body react. His heart thumping, breath growing shallow, as he drinks you in. This isn’t even the first time he’s seen you naked or changing, but it feels different now. He frowns as he notices a bandage on your hip peaking out of your panties, wrapping around your hip. It’s covered swiftly by the bottom half of a fresh set of blacks.

He slid out of his bunk, and you turned to face him, as you pulled the top half down covering your stomach, hiding your skin from his gaze. Naturally, you stepped back to give him space, and you were pleasantly surprised when he deliberately stepped closer. You looked up at him expectantly, eyes searching his for any hint of what he’s up to.

Crosshair was sure he should say something, but his mind was only offering sardonic quips that would convey the truth, but not like he wanted. He lifted a hand, and tapped your hip softly, fingertips resting against you. This was the first time Crosshair had ever touched you without necessity. Your heart sped up, and you swallowed hard.

“What’s this?” he asked, his voice low and even.

“Rooftop sniper,” you shook your head, folding your arms. “One of the other medics wasn’t as lucky. He was still in the med bay when you came to pick me up. No one could have clocked him to be fair.”

“I could have,” Crosshair said, anger simmering under his even tone.

“Well, there’s only one Crosshair in the galaxy. Next time I leave, I’ll take you with me.” You smiled up at him, but his face held the frown.

“Hey, I’m ok. Still good to do my job,” you added, brow furrowing.

“Fucking regs,” He swore, as he shifted his hand to hold your hip gently like you were a fragile thing. A fragile thing that belonged to him.

You hesitated before resting your hand against his chest, tapping your fingertips against the plastoid.

“Cross, I’m home, and in one piece. How can I show you?”

An eyebrow raised at that, sharp eyes taking you in, lingering on your lips, as they parted, a silent invitation for him. He leaned down, bringing his lips close to yours, begging you to close the distance. You wrapped your arms around his trim waist, as you pressed your lips to his softly.

The ache that had been simmering in his chest since you left is morphing into arousal, moving to settle down in his belly. His lips moved tentatively against yours, teeth nipping gently at your bottom lip.

“Hey,” Wrecker protested loudly. “We agreed we’d all talk to her together, Crosshair!”

The two of you break apart, and you clear your throat, your eyes trained on Crosshair.

“Talk to me about what?” You asked, breathlessly.

“Sorry, doll,” Crosshair said before Wrecker tugged him away in a headlock.

“What are you gonna talk to me about?” you asked again.

“When we get home, cyar’ika,” Wrecker said before turning to Crosshair. “Knew you were full of it, Cross!”

You touch your lips, as you watch the pair of them playfully fighting down the corridor. Did that happen? You pinched your arm as hard as you could, grimacing when it hurt, confirming you were awake, Crosshair had just kissed you. What the hell happened while you were gone? And what did they need to talk to you about?

***

In the cockpit on watch, you relaxed in the copilot’s chair, Tech snoozed gently in the pilot’s chair. It was so good to be home despite the fact that there was clearly something going on with your boys. Your alarm beeped, and you rose from the chair, yawning and stretching ready to trade out with Crosshair, and pass out for a little while.

Hunter intercepted you in the hallway with a grin. “I can’t sleep, so I’ll cover for Crosshair. Go get some rest.” He kissed your forehead, and added, “Good to have you home, Doc.”

“Good to be home, Sarge,” you replied before bidding him goodnight, and heading towards your bunk.

“Hunter?” You turn towards him.

“Hmm?” Hunter asks turning to you.

“What happened while I was gone? Why’s everyone acting weird?”

“We’ll talk when we get back to Kamino. Get some rest,” He says with a mysterious grin that makes you bite your lip.

You pout but follow his orders and head to your bunk. You’re about to climb in when you look towards Crosshair’s bunk. He was the least likely to spill the beans, but he had kissed you earlier. Was that the big secret?

You moved to stand near Crosshair’s bunk. Pushing back the privacy curtain, you whispered his name like you normally would to wake him up for his shift.

“My turn already?” he replied sleepily.

“No, Hunter’s there. I was hoping we could talk about earlier, or we could just sleep,” Even after your encounter earlier, he still made you nervous, and you worried you’d made a mistake until he lifted the blankets, and silently invited you into his bed.

You crawled in, and he lowered the blanket over your body before snaking his arm around your waist and pushing his leg between yours. His muscular thigh pressed up against you, sending a wave of heat through your body. He tucked your head beneath his chin, and it became clear he was not saying a word, so you listened to his heartbeat until you were lulled to sleep.

When you woke up a few hours later, you realized that you hadn’t slept well at all while you were gone. You needed to be crammed into the Marauder with your squad to relax. It helped that Crosshair had held you the entire time, and as you stretched and arched your back you realized he was looking at you.

“Did you sleep well?” you asked quietly not wanting to disturb the others. He simply nodded, his eyes roaming your face, as his hand rested on your waist.

“Good. We should be home soon, yeah?” you asked, rolling onto your back before sitting up.

“Something like that,” Crosshair replied cryptically.

You didn’t bother asking what he meant before sliding out of the bunk, and tossing him a smile.

“I’m going to see where we are. Go back to sleep.”

Once again he nodded, but he knew there was no chance of going back to sleep. Not when he knew what they had planned for the day.

You wandered into the cockpit, taking the co-pilot’s seat next to Echo.

“How was your first night back?” Echo asked smiling as you got comfortable in the chair.

“Cozy. I didn’t realize how much I’d miss you guys until I was gone.”

“I don’t think we did either,” he confesses.

“Oh yeah?” You asked, trying not to seem too happy about it.

He nodded, and the two of you were quiet for a moment. As always silence was never awkward with Echo, and while this was no exception, you could feel a tension in the air. It was reminiscent of the one you’d felt the night before when Crosshair had kissed you.

“I don’t suppose I can get you to tell me what’s going on?” You asked, turning the chair towards him and leaning forward.

“Always so impatient, saraad,” Echo says shaking his head.

“I can’t help it. Something’s up. Crosshair has been sweet to me,” you add in a conspiratorial whisper.

Echo huffs out a short laugh.

“Oh has he now?”

“Yeah, and,” you hesistate. You want to keep going, to spill every thought in your head to Echo, but something’s got your tongue. “It’s nothing.” You turn your chair back into place, and ask, “Where are we? How far from home?”

Reluctantly, Echo tears his gaze away from you. He looks over the navicomputer.

“Not far.”

“You wanna get some sleep? I can get us to Kamino safely.”

He raises an eyebrow at that.

“Ok, I can get us there. No promises on the condition,” you concede.

“You’re meant to be resting. Crosshair told us what happened,” Echo trails off.

“I told you he was being sweet to me, but I guess a kiss is a little more than sweet…”

“Kiss?! I meant you getting shot!” Echo hisses trying not to wake the others, as he spins towards you.

“He told you about that?!” You hiss back, spinning towards him.

“Of course he did. Why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t wanna worry you guys. Cross was not happy when he saw the bandage, and…”

“Of course he wasn’t. And I’m not happy you didn’t tell us. We could have lost you,” Echo’s eyes are worried, his brow knit together, as he reaches for your face.

His fingertips have just brushed your jaw when the cockpit opens, and the pair of you sit back and look towards the door.

“You’re supposed to be resting,” Hunter says, gesturing for you to follow him.

“I was,” you pout. “I just wanted to see if we were close to home.”

“That’s funny because it sounded like you were arguing about keeping your injury a secret,” Hunter says. Out of everyone on the ship, you never thought Crosshair would be the one to tell on you.

“No, I was just…trying to…ya know?”

“No, I don’t know, senaar’ika. Now get in your bunk and rest your eyes. I’ll wake you the moment we land.”

“Fine,” you relent, and climb into your bunk, and even your racing brain can’t keep you awake.

taglist: @dystopicjumpsuit (not sure if you wanted to be tagged in everything or not, so just let me know 🥰)

I am working on my crosshair calico critter!

I just finished his blacks. Tomorrow, I'm going to start with his armor 💖

*slides into your requests*

May I ask for another spell dear 🌙queen? 🥺

Here‘s my poison: labradorite (one of my fave MINERALS (lol @Z), how did you know 😏), Rosemary and Pendulum.

Thank you! 💜

WELCOME BACK KAMINOOOOO 🤣🎉 Absolutely you may have another!

Let's take this very pretty, shiny Labradorite as a pendulum and use some annoiting oil to stick these little pieces of Rosemary upon! As I ask it to give us clarity - it becomes this spell...!

Warnings: trope, trope, trope. Pretending to be married at a ball of sorts. Reader is female and is the daughter of a senator - and is friends with Chuchi! Or at least close enough to be trusted with the clone rebellion knowledge. Set during TBB season 2-3 as Howzer is with the Rebellion at this point but otherwise is vague. Lots of use of pet names and dancing - I'm a sucker for balls so i dont know how anyone could expect me to not write about them dancing at a ball 🤣

A Spell to Burst Fantasy and Face Reality

Howzer x Reader

You heard your name called out softly before he reached you. A hand sliding along your right hip while the other glided from your shoulder to your elbow then to your wrist and finally grasped your left hand gently. Your hand was then delicately pulled up and back so that a tenative kiss could be placed upon the back of it.

"Excuse me, I'll be cutting in here" your lover said smoothly before undoubtedly flashing a brilliant smile and guiding you away towards the dancefloor

The moment you were there, again, he'd spun you around so that the both of you were face to face.

Raising a brow, your eyes met his dark amber ones.

"Howzer...?" you questioned softly

"How much longer do we need to keep this up?" he mumbled, discreetly glancing to other dancers and their proximity to your conversation "Darling"

You rolled your eyes softly and tried to do a mental count

"I dunno...just a few weeks...or something like that." you mused aloud

"What?" he gawked, although your conversation was put on pause as he was seperated from your briefly because of the steps of the dance.

"It's alright, dear" you soothed, having returned to him and settling your hand within his own

But as you both began to dance in silence, a worry bubbled forth

"Not enjoying being my husband...?" you whispered

The clone captain faultered in his dance steps for a moment before he composed himself and watched you for a moment, surprised by the sudden vulnerable tone in your voice. His gaze softened as he held your hand a tad snugger

"That's...that's not what I meant" he said in a hushed voice, wary of eavesdroppers "This...mission is odd and...and it makes me uneasy"

You nodded gently at the information, seperating from him once more due to the dance movements before returning again

"I imagine Kamino doesn't train you boys in ettique, dance and deception"

At your words, Howzer gave you a sheepish lopsided grin

"That'd be a no" he confirmed "But they don't sound like terrible classes"

"Sometimes they're quite vile" you sighed "I was born to high society...individuals are no better than caged birds. There's little that one does that isn't seen as some sort of tell or exploitable weakness"

Howzer frowned as he took in the information, his mind conjuring up the idea of what a child version of you would have been like trying to navigate this maddening den of vipers.

"Sounds terrible"

"It was" you agreed quickly "but it's helpful for you all...so...I guess something good came out of it"

"You know...when Rex told me I was heading out for a mission on my own...I wasn't expecting to be thrown into fancy outfits and paraded about" He admitted with a slight smirk "Not exactly the life of a solider"

Your 'husband' gave you a lopsided smile as endearing as it made him look silly.

"Riyo was the one that asked me to do this for her" you confessed "She wanted to go herself...but there's too many eyes on her"

The captain before you nodded before he spun you gently, only to recapture your form in the static embrace

"She was pretty hesitant on agreeing - but being a senator's daughter...I have quite a bit of wiggle room that others do not"

"So if it wasn't for you, I'd be out here with Riyo...?" he asked with a raised brow

"Disappointed?" you asked in return, looking more guarded than before

with a tint coating his cheeks, Howzer shook his head in response

"To be honest...I asked Rex myself who was used to being near officials...you were one of the few names - and well..." you let out a self-depricating laugh "I saw you and picked you"

"You..." the gears seemed to whirr wildly in his mind as the song ended

"Maybe we should get some air, my love" you suggested quietly, holding his hand and gently tugging him away from the dancefloor "We can talk better there"

"Come, sit" you urged gently

With little struggle, the two of you departed from the dancefloor and retreated to the small terrace. You guided him to one of the stone benches and then sat, patting the spot next to you

Your 'husband' gave you a gauging look but nestled himself beside you, hands on his thighs and staring straight a head for a moment or two in the silence that surrounded you both. But then he swiveled to face you, letting your name drop from his lips in a dangerously endearing tone

"- what...what did you mean by that?"

"Exactly what I said" you answered softly "I saw you and knew you had to be the one to come with me. It's...it's a little hard to put into words the feeling that washed over me...but it did and it told me you were the one. I was only pretending to be your wife"

His brows creased as he listened to your words, trying to sort them out for himself

"All us clones look the same" he mumbled "That...doesn't really make sense"

"Not looks" you mused "Feeling...just... something clicked"

"Clicked" he repeated as if it were a puzzle piece to be examined

with a sigh you shook your head

"You know, maybe it's best you just forget about what I said." you plaatered a smile on your lips "Just the silly ramblings of a silly girl"

Your name dropped again from his lips this time in a more dejected tone - almost...scolding...?

"-wait..."

You stood up in a hurry and smoothed out you dress, flashed that smile and began to walk to the door

"Maybe we've had enough outside tim-"

"Would you just wait a minute!"

Your back was flush against him and only as you'd let out a soft gasp did his hand snake around you and settle on the opposing hips - keeping you snug against him

In the flash if a heartbeat, Howzer had leapy forward and grasped you wrist before pulling you back to his chest.

"Are you telling me...I've been stuck here...with you...and only after getting me to play pretend, are you going to admit you-"

"D-don't" you squeaked as heat enveloped your face "I..."

With a soft huff, Howzer turned you in his hold to gaze down at you, his arms holding you snugly against him

"Maybe it's time to stop pretending...if I'm reading this right" he whispered "Hmmm...? My dear...?"

He watched with a growing grin.as your cheeks grew darker and darker

"If I stop...pretending...then it's scary" you whispered, looking to the side instead of at him

Your 'lover' frowned and gently tilted your chin up so that your gaze would meet his own - only to watch you continue to advert your gaze

"Mesh'la..." he called softly "Please look at me"

Your heart pounded in your chest with wild abandon as your lashes flicked up and your eyes met his deep and heavy ones

"I don't like pretending to be your husband..." he confessed gently "Because ...it's hard to dance that line. You're wonderful and...talented and playful - and I care a lot for you. I can't wait for this mission to be over...because I don't want to pretend to feel a way that I dont"

"I get it" you mumbled feeling a bit numb

"You're misunderstanding me" he whispered leaning towards you

"I'm not, you just want me out of your way so you can wo-"

"I want a do over. I want, the second this is over to meet you - properly." he explained sweetly "I want to learn everything about you from you, not from a datapad file you and chuchi concocted to give me a run down how to act with you. And I want you to learn about me the same way"

Howzer gave you a look at suddenly turned your tongue to lead and left you feeling breathless

"Are you asking me out, captain...?" you asked cheekily

"Ah...y-yeah..." he chuckled sheepish suddenly "I a-"

Howzer let you a strangled noise as you suddenly leant in and kissed his exposed flesh of his neck, sucking softly on it and leaving a small bruise.

"Wh-" he gasped breathlessly

"Deal" you grinned innocently "Can't wait to seduce you and make you my real husband"

Howzer stared at you for a moment in utter shock but then let out a breathy laugh and nodded

"Alright...alright" he smiled, then added in a teasing tone "I'll eagerly await your wooing then"

"Back to the dancefloor while we wait?" you asked sweetly "Husband to be?"

Letting out another breathy laugh, and wIth a more relaxed look to his form, your soon-to-be-beloved nodded

"It would be my pleasure, darling*"

Build-a-spell event

Build-a-spell Masterlist

Divider by me

Reblog divider by dystopicjumpsuit 💜

It's been a long time since I brought Bly and Aayla, I really wanted to draw them again, they are my favorite ship 🫶🏼

Happy Spoopy Month

Hey, Vod'ika!! I'm in an Echo mood lately.

What about a fic where the reader has been with the batch since before the Empire and the reader and Echo got together round about the time of Order 66. The reader decides to join Rex's rebellion which Echo doesn't mind in fact he loves seeing you everyday. But after taking down Tantiss, Echo notices how you talk to the batch and how you just seem to fit in well on Pabu, so Echo gets an overbearing feeling that he's holding you back from an ordinary life so you have to reassure him that your home is wherever he is. ❤

Wouldn't Change A Thing

Summary: You’re always happy to get to visit your boys, and spending a week on Pabu is always a treat, but when you return to the fight with Echo after this most recent visit, he’s quieter and more withdrawn. And you’re worried.

Pairing: TBB Echo x F!Reader

Word Count: 1117

Warnings: None

A/N: This fic is soft, though I'm setting it in a perfect TBB AU where Tech is still alive. Because I'm a writer and I'm allowed to delude myself like that. (Though, he's actually not mentioned in this story). Anyway, I hope you like it!

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

You stretch your arms over your head with a groan as you step out of the fresher and into the suite you share with Echo. As much as you love visiting Pabu, and seeing your boys, sometimes you feel like you need a vacation to recover from your vacation.

Honestly, Hunter can be so exhausting sometimes. And that’s even with him mellowing out since Omega came into his life.

You’re so glad you’re not their handler anymore.

You stretch a little more and grimace when the sunburn on your shoulders pulls uncomfortably. It’s fine, you’ll have Echo put aloe on your back before bed.

Speaking of said man—

Your gaze sweeps across the room. He’s not sitting on the couch, and the bedroom door is propped open, so you can see that he’s not in there either. Then you hear the familiar sound of dishes clinking together, so you turn and poke your head into the kitchen.

Echo’s back is to you, but you’d be surprised if he didn’t know that you were there. For a moment, you watch the muscles ripple across his back, and a tiny smile lifts your lips as you lean your head against the door frame.

Maker, you love him so much.

Echo pauses, and turns his head slightly, “You’re staring.”

“Mm, yeah,” You say through an adoring sigh.

He rolls his eyes and flings a damp washcloth at you. It smacks your chest and falls into your hand, “I’m hardly worth staring at.”

“Agree to disagree, my darling~”

“Cyare.”

“My beloved.” You continue with a grin as you cross the room to stand next to him, “My only. My—” Your words become muffled when he presses his hand over your mouth.

“Hush, you.”

There’s color high on his cheeks, and you giggle in delight. Something softens on his face at the sound of your giggle and he moves his hand from your mouth just enough that he’s able to caress your jaw. 

“You’ve got a sunburn,” Echo notes as he lightly brushes his scomp across the burn on the back of your neck and upper shoulders. 

“Yeah, I’ll need you to help me with some aloe later,” You reply absently as you rub your cheek against the palm of his hand, “If you don’t mind.”

“Oh no, the love of my life wants me to massage lotion into her skin. Whatever shall I do?” He counters, deadpan.

“How is it that you become more sarcastic after spending time with the boys?” You marvel.

“It’s a defense mechanism for having to deal with little brothers.”

You laugh and reach up to cup his face, “Well, I like it when you’re sarcastic.”

“Only because it means that you can be sarcastic right back at me,” He teases with a tiny smile, though the smile fades as he scans your face.

“Echo? What’s wrong?” You ask him, with a tilt of your head.

“You looked pretty happy on Pabu.” He murmurs.

“I mean, sure. Who’s not going to be happy to be able to lie on a beach with a fruity drink?”

“You seem to fit in well there,” Echo continues, “And the others were so happy to see you. And you were happy to see them.”

“Honestly, I’m not convinced that they’re able to survive without me,” You whisper up to him like you’re sharing a secret. “I think Crosshair lost weight, can you believe that!?”

“Cyare,” The affectionate pet name is murmured through a sigh, and you drop your hands from his cheeks, so you’re able to wrap your arms around his neck.

“What’s wrong, Echo? Talk to me.”

“I love that you’re here. I love waking up and seeing you every day.” Echo says slowly, “But, cyare, if you’d be happier on Pabu. I can take you back. You don’t have to stay here.”

You blink at him, struck mute by his words.

Slowly your arms drop from around his neck and you take half a step back, you can’t think when you’re wrapped around him like that. “Echo,” You speak slowly, “Do you want me to leave?”

Echo draws you back into his arms. Unlike you, he thinks more clearly when you’re in his arms. “Never. I want you here, in my arms, all of the time.” He presses his nose into your hair, his voice soft right by your ear, “But if you’re not happy here, then I’ll let you go in a heartbeat.”

Well, that’s what it is to love someone, isn’t it? If you love them, really and truly love them, you’ll want them happy. Even if it means that they’re not with you.

A soft sigh falls from your lips and you turn your head slightly so you’re able to kiss the side of his head, “Have I ever implied that I’m not happy here?” You ask.

“No, but I know you. You’d downplay a fatal injury if you worried it was going to be an inconvenience.” Echo replies.

You wrap your arms tightly around him again, “Then allow me to be blunt,” You trail light fingers across his skin, tracing the scars that show you that your love is a survivor, “Yes, I like Pabu. And yes, I like seeing my boys.”

He tenses slightly, his arms tightening.

“But, Echo, I am happier on Pabu when you are there. And I am happier spending time with the boys when you are with me.” He pulls back slightly, so he’s able to look you in the eye, and you continue with a small smile, “My place, Echo, is wherever you are. Be it here, or Pabu, or a moisture farm on Tatooine.”

“Cyar’ika—”

“And I wouldn’t change a single thing.” You pause, “Well, maybe I’d change the whole rise of the Empire thing, but that’s the only thing I’d change!” You inch closer to him so that you’re pressed flush against his body, “I love you, Echo. And I will stay here, with you, until you get tired of me.”

“It’ll never happen.” Echo replies as he bumps his forehead against yours.

“Are you sure? I can be really annoying.”

“The most aggravating woman I’ve ever met,” Echo agrees, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head, “But I wouldn’t change you for all of the credits in the galaxy.”

“Good.”

Any further conversation is unnecessary, as Echo’s lips catch yours in a deep kiss and he starts walking you back towards the bedroom. “I should get the aloe,” He murmurs against your lips, “Something something good boyfriend.”

“You just want to be a pervert,” You accuse.

“Those aren’t mutually exclusive.” He laughs against your jaw, as he kicks the bedroom door shut.

@imabeautifulbutterfly

@n0vqni

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@justiceandwar98

@mira-loves-star-wars

@tiredbi-peach

@dukeoftheblackstar

@trixie2023

@kimiheartblade

@padawancat97

@falconfeather23435

@etod

@bb8-99

@kiss-anon

@continous-mistakes

@yoitsjay

@liz-stat

@cc--2224

@adriennelenoir

@cdblake1565

@sweater-sloot

@heidnspeak

@wax-birds

@silly-starfish

@lonewolflupe

@maniacalbooper

@rebell-ious

Oh goodness this is perfect. The way you write Wrecker is heart achingly beautiful @jetii - the way you’ve kept him soft despite everything they’re fighting through just makes me melt into a puddle.

AND DONT GET ME STARTED on the preciousness of reader never wanting to be let go. I think I’d live inside this fic if I could.

And there’s protectiveness from the rest of the batch as well which makes me want to eat my phone in glee.

Thank you so much for sharing these with us ❤️

By Your Name

Part Two

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

Words: 11,228/19,226

Tags/Warnings: angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, forbidden romance, unrequited feelings, love confessions, some kissing and heavy petting, smut in part 2

Summary: Ever since you were assigned to the squad, Wrecker has delighted in calling you pet names in Mando'a — an'edee, cyar'ika, mesh'la, the list goes on. Little does he know, you understand every single one of them, and it's starting to become a problem.

A/N: I wrote this months ago and got around to editing it recently and whoa, was not prepared for the sad. Sorry about that! This is mostly self-contained to part one, with part two being purely a smut add-on for my own amusement. I'll post that next week.

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You hit the ground hard, skidding to a stop face down in the dirt, your whole body aching. The ringing in your ears slowly subsides, and the sounds of battle come back in bits and pieces. The roar of blasterfire, the clatter of droids and metal feet, and crunch of tanks rolling over rubble. You groan and turn yourself over onto your back, coughing and trying to get the taste of dirt out of your mouth, just in time to see a droid bearing down on you, cannon aimed.

You try to move, but you’re completely winded. Your lightsaber was thrown from your grasp when you were sent flying, and it lay several feet away, taunting you with the idea of your own survival. You close your eyes and prepare for the worst, waiting for the searing pain of a laser bolt tearing through you

There’s the sound of metal tearing as a large hand grips the droid’s head and rips it clean off its neck, and your eyes fly open as the metal body falls to the ground in a clatter of lifeless metal, its head still in the hands of your savior.

You look up and meet Wrecker’s eyes, and he pushes his helmet up with the back of his hand to offer you a toothy grin, the droid head held aloft in the other. The relief at seeing him alive and well washes over you like a tide, and you can only manage a weak smile back, your ribs smarting from the impact of your fall.

"That was a close one!" he says, tossing the head away like a child throwing a ball for a dog. It pings off the chest of a droid advancing on the pair of you, sending the metal soldier careening backwards.

"A little too close for my liking," you wheeze, and you take his offered hand. Wrecker pulls you to your feet with ease, the motion tugging you close to his chest, and his arm wraps around you to steady you.

“You okay, cyar’ika?” he shouts over the sound of another tank exploding, a cloud of debris flying up and raining down around you in a shower of dust and smoke. You nod, the movement stiff and stilted, and you pray he doesn’t notice the flush on your cheeks at the use of that Mando'a word.

And that's the problem, isn't it? Cyar’ika, sarad, mesh’la, all the words he said to you in his native tongue, thinking you wouldn't know the difference. It made your heart race and your head spin, and the fact that you understood exactly what they meant only made it worse. It was like a secret between you two, one you weren't supposed to know.

The words made your heart do cartwheels, but the tone he said them in?

That was what was really going to kill you.

The soft way he said the words, the gentle, affectionate way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention, the way his hand seemed to linger on your shoulder after pulling you back up from a fall, the way his smile made your knees weak... It all came together to paint a picture of how Wrecker felt. It was a picture that made your face feel warm and your throat dry, and it was one that was starting to drive you crazy.

It also drove you to distraction, so much so that you hadn't even noticed the AAT firing at you until you were flying through the air.

And now you're here, in Wrecker's arms, your heart beating fast for more than one reason. You take a moment to gather yourself before stepping back, Wrecker's arm falling reluctantly from around your shoulders, and you give him a grin that's a little stronger this time.

"I'm alright, thank you!" you shout back. "We need to stop that tank!"

Wrecker nods, and the two of you turn to face the massive tank, which was slowly making its way through the city, demolishing everything in its path. The cannons swivel back and forth, destroying a building to your right, then to the left, then forward.

You call your lightsaber back into your hand, and it flies past Wrecker's head into your awaiting palm. You ignite the blade and glance at him, and he grins and cracks his knuckles before slamming his helmet back onto his head.

"Ready, cyare?"

Your breath catches in your throat. It wasn't the word you thought he'd use, but the endearment has the same effect. He doesn't seem to realize what he's said, and you decide not to bring it up.

You can think about it later. For now, you had a droid army to stop.

"Ready," you murmur.

Wrecker holds his hand out to the side, bowing his head in a courtly gesture. "After you."

You roll your eyes and step past him, and you feel the heat of his gaze on the back of your neck.

"Keep up, then."

It doesn’t get any easier.

You try your best not to let it affect your performance. You focus on the missions, on keeping your men safe, but Wrecker is always there, with a compliment or a gentle touch, and the feelings grow until they threaten to burst from your chest.

He does everything in his power to make you laugh, and every time he does, your stomach feels like it's doing backflips. He calls you pet names and winks at you, and your knees get weak. He smiles at you, and the world seems to get brighter.

He does everything he can to protect you, and you find yourself falling for him, hard.

And you can't let it show.

So you ignore the feeling, try to bury it deep inside, but you can feel it growing, day by day.

You have never wanted to tell someone how you feel so much, and yet you are absolutely terrified to do it. It's almost funny, really. You’ve stared down the barrel of a blaster a hundred times, fought dozens of battles, and yet this one man is the only one who can make your heart race.

But there's a difference. With the other things, you could always fight back, try to fix the situation. But how can you fight against feelings? How can you stop yourself from falling in love with the most wonderful person you've ever met?

You can't, and you know it.

Every night, you think about telling him, but every morning, the fear stops you. In the light of day, the idea of a Jedi and a clone being together is ridiculous. It's impossible, and you can't risk your career and his life for something so foolish. So, each time, you say nothing, and the words go unsaid, lingering between the two of you, a heavy weight that seems to follow wherever you go.

You try your hardest not to think about it, but it's like a constant buzzing, an annoying insect that's always in your ear, always nipping at your thoughts, always reminding you of something you don't want to deal with. It's dangerous, and distracting, and it makes you worry that someday, someone will find out.

And that's the most terrifying thing of all.

If the Council ever discovered what was going on between you, they would have no choice but to separate the two of you. The thought of never seeing him again fills you with a deep dread, and the knowledge that it could happen at any time drives you crazy.

Every time the thought comes to the forefront of your mind, you try to push it away, and the effort has become a daily struggle. The others have noticed your preoccupation, and have done their best to cheer you up, but even their good-natured attempts have become frustrating, the reminders of what you were trying not to think about grating on your nerves.

The only person who doesn't seem to notice is Wrecker.

It's ironic, really. It's Wrecker who causes all the trouble, and it's him who's oblivious to it. He doesn't know the effect his words have on you, and if he does, he doesn't acknowledge it.  Instead, he seems to be more affectionate, more playful, more himself than ever, and the more you try to push away your feelings, the harder they come crashing back.

It's like being caught in a riptide, unable to stop yourself from being pulled farther and farther out, no matter how much you struggle. You wish he would stop, wish he would just back off and let you think, but a part of you doesn't want him to. A part of you wants this, wants him, and it's slowly consuming the rest of you.

The only thing that keeps you sane is the knowledge that you will have to return to Coruscant soon, and that when you do, you can go back to the Order, and put the distance between you that you sorely need.

You can't hide anything from the Council. The Force is your ally and enemy, and it shows you exactly how they would react if they ever found out about you and Wrecker.

Dismissal. Disapproval. Disdain.

All things you're not ready to face, and the sooner you're separated, the better. That thought, the idea that you won't have to see Wrecker every day, helps to soothe your anxiety, and, despite the guilt and sadness it brings, you look forward to the mission ending.

The sooner you can distance yourself from him, the easier it will be.

At least, that's what you tell yourself.

You have no idea how wrong you are.

The tunnel network on Akiva is a mess, a winding labyrinth of tunnels and dead ends. The six of you have been trying to navigate them for hours now, and it's starting to take its toll. You've lost the trail of the tactical droid you're hunting multiple times, only to pick it up again an hour later. Your patience is wearing thin, and the squad is getting restless. You're all tired and hungry, and the dim, flickering lights of the tunnels are giving you a headache.

"How many turns have we made?" Crosshair asks, his voice echoing in the narrow tunnel. He's leading the pack with Hunter, whose trying his best to keep up with the trail, though it's growing colder by the minute.

"I...have lost count," Tech admits bitterly, squinting at the holographic map of the tunnels displayed on his datapad. "Perhaps we should have split up, that would have made the task—"

"Not happening," Wrecker cuts in, his voice firm.

"I wasn't finished," Tech snaps.

"Yeah, but you were gonna suggest splitting up," Wrecker says, "and that ain't gonna happen. We're all staying together."

"Tech, if we split up, we might lose each other," Hunter adds, his voice strained as he concentrates. "This trail is difficult enough to follow as it is. I don't need the distraction of trying to find a missing man on top of it."

Tech opens his mouth to reply, but stops when he catches your eye, and you give him a subtle shake of your head. He sighs and nods, looking back down at his datapad. "As always, the logical course of action is the least popular," he mutters.

Hunter snorts, but says nothing, and you and the rest of the group continue down the tunnel. You trail behind the group, trying to keep your frustration in check, when you suddenly feel a presence behind you, and you glance back to see Wrecker fall into step next to you, a small smile on his face.

"Hey," he says softly, and you can't help but return the expression. You realize what you're doing and try to school your features, but the damage is already done, and Wrecker's smile widens.

"Hi," you murmur.

"You holding up okay?" he asks.

You nod, the movement stiff. "I'm fine."

"You sure? Cause you look like you're ready to kill someone."

You grimace and glance ahead, where the others were slowly disappearing from view, and you lower your voice. "I'm sorry. It's been a long day."

"Ain't that the truth," Wrecker mutters.

"This is a mess," you sigh, glancing around the cramped, dimly lit tunnel. "We're not gonna find anything at this rate."

He shrugs, and his elbow nudges yours gently. "It'll be alright, cyar'ika. We'll find him."

The affectionate word is like a bucket of cold water thrown over your head, and your heart skips a beat. You swallow hard, and nod, hoping he can't see the flush on your cheeks.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Cause we're the best there is," Wrecker says. His arm brushes yours as the pair of you walk, and his fingers bump yours. He pulls his hand back quickly, but not before his fingertips brush against the back of your hand, and you can't suppress the shiver that runs through you. "And we have the best General in the galaxy."

"Stop," you groan, the tips of your ears burning. "I'm not the best. I've gotten us lost three times today, Wrecker. Three. If I was a better General, I would have found this stupid droid by now."

"Hey," he murmurs. "It's not your fault."

You keep your eyes on the ground, but his hand comes up and his fingers brush the back of yours. Your hand twitches, but you don't move, and his thumb runs gently over the back of your hand. You're too distracted by his touch to notice that the group had stopped walking, and it's only when Hunter speaks that you snap back to reality.

"Guys, we've got a problem."

You and Wrecker stop short, and you pull your hand from his quickly, ignoring the way his face falls. You glance up and see the other clones gathered around the entrance to a large cavern, their backs turned to you.

"What's wrong?"

Crosshair steps aside to allow you to join the group, and his eyebrow arches as his eyes flicker between you and Wrecker, a smirk crossing his face. You pointedly ignore him, and he shakes his head before returning his attention to the task at hand.

"Dead end," Hunter says.

"I don't understand," Tech murmurs. He steps forward to scan the walls and floor of the cavern with his datapad, and Echo peers over his shoulder. "According to the map, this tunnel should continue on, not stop at a room."

"Well, clearly it does," Crosshair snarks as he moves past you into the cavern. "Or are we supposed to climb the wall?"

"The structural integrity of these walls is poor," Tech replies. "Climbing would only serve to bring the ceiling down upon us."

"Then how are we supposed to get through?" Echo asks, and you bite your lip, the wheels turning in your mind.

Crosshair's flashlight pans over the walls and floor, illuminating the room, and it's then that you see the marks in the dirt. Footprints, dozens of them, some large, some small. Hunter crouches down and brushes the prints, and he frowns and pulls his glove off, running his fingers along the floor.

"These are fresh," he murmurs.

"So are these," Echo says. He and Crosshair are crouched by the far wall, examining a patch of disturbed dirt. You move to take a step forward when a chill runs up your spine, and you freeze, the hairs on the back of your neck rising.

Something is wrong.

You feel it, the air becoming thick with danger. Your muscles tense, your hands clenching at your sides, and the others must sense it, too. They rise to their feet and turn to you, their weapons ready, and the only sound is the distant dripping of water and the soft whirring of Tech's datapad.

"What is it?" Hunter whispers, his voice barely audible, but you can't answer. Your eyes dart around the cavern, searching for the threat. There's no cover in the room, nowhere to hide, and it's making your skin crawl.

"I don't know," you whisper back.

Suddenly, the ground beneath your feet starts to sha, and the men shout in alarm as the shaking gets worse. Dust falls from the ceiling, and you scramble backwards, trying not to fall as the walls start to crumble.

"Go! Go!" Hunter shouts, and the group bolts for the tunnel. You trip on a stone, and the ground cracks and splits open, swallowing the rocks whole. Wrecker grabs you and pulls you to your feet, and the pair of you race after the others, the cavern falling apart around you.

"This isn't natural!" Tech shouts, and he ducks as a rock flies towards him, missing him by inches. "The droid must have set charges!"

"Doesn't matter! Just keep moving!" Hunter yells.

There's a loud roar, and the ceiling comes crashing down. You barely have time to throw up your hands before the weight of the cave-in hits you, and your arms tremble with the effort of holding it up. Ahead of you, the others shout, but the dust and rocks muffle the sound. Your knees buckle, and the rubble starts to push down on you, your back bowing.

No, no, no, no...

The rocks shift, and your hands slip, and the ceiling starts to come down again, and all you can think is that you're not ready, not ready, not ready—

There's a flash of black, and suddenly Wrecker is diving towards you, his arms wrapping around your waist, and the two of you are thrown to the side, out of the way of the falling rocks. He wraps himself around you, his broad shoulders protecting your head, and the pair of you hit the ground hard as the rest of the cavern collapses.

The impact knocks the wind from your lungs, and you're left gasping for breath, unable to move as the cave-in rages around you, the sounds of the others muffled by the rocks. After what feels like an eternity, the noise and movement ceases, and silence settles in, save for the soft tumble of stones.

Your eyes fly open, and you're greeted with darkness. It takes a moment for them to adjust, and you blink away the grit, a shudder running through you. Your limbs feel heavy, and it's only then that you notice the crushing weight on top of you. You can feel the hard edge of plastoid digging into your chest, something softer cradling your head, and Wrecker's heavy breathing fills your ears.

"Wrecker?" you rasp.

His body moves against yours, and his helmet buried in the crook of your neck, his chest rising and falling as he pants for air.

"Yeah?"

"Are...are you okay?"

He laughs, a soft, wheezy sound, and his grip around you loosens, his arms pulling back, allowing the air to return to your lungs.

"Am I okay? I should be askin' you that!"

You laugh, the sound coming out as a half-sob, and you feel his hand cup the back of your head, his fingers threading gently through your hair. "What...what happened?"

"You almost got crushed," he replies, his voice hoarse. "Had to get you outta there."

You blink rapidly, trying to get the dust out of your eyes, and the dim light illuminates his form. He's curled around you, his body protecting yours, and his arms are still holding you tight, one wrapped around your waist, the other cupping the back of your head, his fingers gently stroking your hair.

"Oh," is all you can manage.

"Yeah," Wrecker chuckles, and his grip tightens. "'Oh' is right."

"How did you...?"

"I dunno," he mutters, and his chest rumbles with his words. "I just knew I had to get to you, no matter what."

"Well, thanks."

You swallow hard, trying to ignore the fluttering in your stomach. His hand is large enough to cradle your entire head, and his thumb gently strokes the skin of your neck. You're suddenly hyper-aware of the feeling of him pressed against you, the weight of him, the warmth, the smell of metal and dirt and sweat, and you can't help the way your face heats up.

Your hand pushes at his chest plate, and his grip on you loosens. "Uh, we should—"

"Right!" Wrecker exclaims as his arms unwrap from around you. "Sorry!"

"No, no, it's okay!"

"I shoulda let go sooner," he babbles, and you can hear the flush in his voice. "I didn't mean to..."

"It's fine," you assure him, and you sit up, wincing at the aches and pains in your body. You can hear him move beside you, his armor scraping the floor as he stands, and a moment later, a gloved hand appears in front of your face.

"Need a hand?"

"Thanks," you say, and Wrecker helps you up. The pair of you stand for a moment, listening to the silence around you. The room is dark, the only illumination coming from the narrow gaps in the stones above you, and the occasional shift sends dust falling from the ceiling.

“—al…Wrecker! Are you alright?" Hunter's voice crackles through the comms, the sound distorted by static.

"I'm okay," Wrecker replies, stepping back a little as he activates his comm. He pauses and glances down at you, and his head tilts slightly, like he's looking you over.

"What is it?" you ask, and Wrecker hesitates, his fingers brushing yours.

"You sure you're alright, cyar'ika?"

The endearment is like a slap to the face, and you blink rapidly, taken aback.

"I'm fine, thank you," you say, trying to keep your voice steady.

Wrecker doesn't seem convinced, and his fingers curl around yours. "You don't sound fine."

"I am."

"Really?"

"Yes, Wrecker," you snap. "I'm fine."

"Wrecker, report!" Hunter's voice demands, and Wrecker pulls his hand from yours and activates his comm again.

"We're okay," he says. "Me and the General."

"Thank the Maker," Hunter replies. "What happened?"

You let Wrecker answer while you try to calm yourself, your heart pounding against your ribs. It's just a word, you tell yourself, and yet the knowledge that he was willing to put himself in harm's way, risk being crushed by the rocks just to get to you...

You're not sure how much more of this you can take.

"Is anyone injured?" you ask, cutting off Wrecker mid-sentence.

"No," Hunter replies. "A few bumps and bruises, nothing serious."

"Good," you say. You walk toward the wall of rubble, reaching out with the Force and testing it, searching for a way out. There are gaps here and there, large enough for a person to fit through, but the amount of debris is daunting, and you know that without tools, the task would take hours.

"Well, this is a karking mess," Crosshair grumbles, speaking your thoughts aloud.

“You can say that again,” you say. “We’ll try to dig our way out, but it might take a while."

“Negative,” Tech’s voice cuts in immediately. “This tunnel system is too unstable. Any further attempts to excavate the debris could result in further cave-ins, which could cause catastrophic structural damage.”

You sigh, leaning your head against the rocks. "So we're stuck?"

"It would appear so," Tech replies, and you can practically hear him grimace.

“What are your orders, General?” Echo asks. You can tell by the sound of his voice that he knows what you’re about to say, but the question still makes your stomach twist. You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, but the feeling of the walls closing in is growing, and the anxiety is starting to become overwhelming.

"You're going to have to leave us," you say softly.

The words are met with a chorus of protests, and you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to block out the noise. Behind you, Wrecker has fallen silent, and his eyes are burning into the back of your skull, his presence looming, waiting.

"You'll be walking blind," Hunter argues. "Without Tech, you could get lost."

"Or crushed," Crosshair snarks.

"It's dangerous," Echo adds.

"It is," you reply. "But we can't stay here. We need to find the tactical droid, and the longer we wait, the colder the trail gets. So get moving. That's an order."

There's a moment of silence, then: "Copy that."

“May the Force be with you,” you reply, and you turn off your comm and close your eyes.

The silence seems deafening after the sound of the voices, and you stand there for a moment, collecting yourself. You can still feel Wrecker behind you, and his presence is as comforting as it is suffocating. You take a deep breath and steel yourself before turning to face him, and you offer him a small smile.

"Ready to get outta here?"

He doesn't reply, and his gaze is so intense that it makes your skin crawl. You clear your throat and glance away, and when you look back, he's still staring.

"Wrecker?"

"You really think they're gonna leave us here?"

"They don't have a choice," you say gently. "And neither do we."

He grunts, but says nothing, and he turns away to scan the rubble, the flashlight on his helmet casting eerie shadows on the walls. You watch him as he walks the perimeter of the cave, and it's not until he's made his third trip around the space that he speaks again.

"There's a gap over here," he calls, and you cross the cavern to join him.

He's right; the rocks have formed a tunnel, large enough for you to crawl through, and when you peek through the other side, the tunnel stretches on for several meters, the walls and floor clear of debris.

"Well, at least we have somewhere to start," you murmur.

"I'll go first," Wrecker offer, and he drops to his knees and crawls into the opening, his wide shoulders brushing the stone. You follow close behind, crawling over the jagged rocks, and when you reach the other side, Wrecker grabs your arm and helps you stand.

"Thanks," you murmur, and the pair of you turn and shine your lights down the tunnel. It stretches on ahead of you, twisting and turning, the path vanishing around a corner.

"When I get my hands on that droid..." Wrecker growls.

"If I don't get to it first," you mutter, and the two of you set off down the tunnel.

It's slow-going, with the two of you constantly checking for traps or pitfalls, and the longer you walk, the more nervous you become. It's too quiet, and the tension between you and Wrecker is thick, like an unspoken word lingering in the air.

You've been trying to think of something to say, but every time you open your mouth, your throat dries up, and the words die on your tongue. Every time, you convince yourself to tell him how you feel, and how you can't deal with his attention, his affection, but each time, your nerves get the better of you, and you lose the courage.

After a while, you turn and glance back at him, and his gaze is locked on you, his head tilted.

"What?" you ask, and the word is sharper than you intended, but the tension is starting to make your skin itch.

"Nothin'," he says. You can hear the smile in his voice, and you sigh and look ahead again, trying not to think about his eyes on you.

"Stop looking at me like that," you grumble.

"Like what?" he asks, his voice low.

"I don't know," you say, your frustration getting the better of you. "Just...just stop."

He falls silent, and you bite the inside of your cheek, the guilt starting to eat at you. It's not his fault, you remind yourself. You're the one who has the problem. He's doing what he always does, and it's driving you insane, and he has no idea, and it's not his fault, it's yours.

"I'm sorry," you murmur.

"No, no, it's okay," he replies. "I'll...I'll try not to stare."

You can hear the disappointment in his voice, and you swallow the lump in your throat. It's not his fault, it's yours.

"Thank you," is all you manage to say.

Silence settles in again, and the two of you continue on, your footsteps echoing off the walls. Wrecker keeps his promise and doesn't look at you, and it only makes the tension worse, the distance between you yawning wider.

It's hard to see anything in the dark, and the tunnel seems endless. The walls are crumbling, and the ceiling is low, and every time the stone shifts, you're afraid the tunnel will collapse on you, and that'll be the end of the Jedi and her trooper, crushed in the tunnels on Akiva. It's not the way you expected to go out, but you suppose it could be worse.

It's not a very Jedi-like thought, and you shake your head, trying to clear your mind. The exhaustion is starting to creep up on you, the long day finally catching up, and you're not sure how much longer you can stay focused.

"You okay, mesh'la?"

Wrecker's voice, soft and low, catches you by surprise, and you glance up to see him watching you, his head cocked. You're not sure what's worse, the fact that he can see right through you, or the fact that he's still calling you those names.

"Fine," you lie, turning away so he can't see your face. "Just tired." 

"We can stop if you want," he offers. "Rest for a bit."

"No," you say, forcing a laugh. "I'll be fine. We need to keep going." 

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"Okay," he replies. "But tell me if you need to stop."

You nod and walk a little faster, leaving him behind. The sound of his footsteps behind you makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and it takes all your self-control not to turn around.

You need the distance.

The longer the two of you are together, the closer you feel to him, and the closer you feel to him, the harder it will be to say goodbye. And if the way he looks at you, the softness in his voice when he speaks, the gentle brush of his hand against yours is anything to go by, Wrecker isn't planning on leaving your side anytime soon.

The thought makes your heart swell, but you push it down, ignoring the longing it brings. You can't get attached. You can't let him get attached. It's not fair to either of you.

Wrecker's hand finds your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks. His grip is firm, but not painful, and his fingers gently squeeze, pulling you back a step.

"Cyar'ika, slow down," he murmurs. "Don't go runnin' off."

"Sorry," you mutter, and his thumb runs over your shoulder.

"S'okay. Just be careful."

He doesn't release you, and his grip stays on your shoulder, his thumb running gently over the fabric of your robes. You should pull away, should shrug his hand off, but his touch is comforting, and you can't help but lean into it.

"I will."

You don't move, and his fingers stroke your shoulder, the motion slow and rhythmic.

"What's wrong?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper.

"Nothing."

"Don't give me that," he says. "There's something bothering you. I can tell."

"It's nothing, Wrecker," you say, and this time, your words are firm. His grip on your shoulder tightens, not painfully, just enough to make his presence known. "Everything's fine."

"You can talk to me, y'know," he says, and the gentleness in his voice makes your throat close up. "Whatever it is, I'm here for you."

You stare at him, torn between wanting to scream and wanting to cry. Instead, you take a deep breath and let it out slowly. You can't do this right now. You can't handle his concern, his kindness, his affection.

"I said I'm fine," you say, your voice tight. "Just drop it, Wrecker." 

He stares at you for a moment, then his hand slips from your shoulder and falls to his side. 

"Okay," he says flatly. "I'm sorry."

You want to reach out and grab him, pull him back and apologize, but you can't. You can't even bring yourself to say anything, to explain yourself. You just watch him as he walks away, and the distance between you feels like a chasm. He's only a few steps away, but it might as well be miles.

You stand there, frozen, for what feels like an eternity, before finally you turn and start walking again. The silence is unbearable, but there's nothing you can do. You're trapped, with nowhere to go, and the man you care about most is walking away from you. It's a helpless, hopeless feeling, and you can't shake it. But you have to keep moving, so you do.

At some point, Hunter checks in and lets you know they're close to finding the T-1, but the knowledge does little to ease the pain in your chest. You keep walking, pushing yourself as fast as you can, but it doesn't seem to make a difference. The darkness, the silence, and the weight of your emotions seem to swallow you whole.

Wrecker doesn't seem to be faring much better. He keeps casting glances your way, and his posture is tense, his steps heavy. You know he wants to talk to you, but the words won't come. So you both suffer in silence, each step feeling like a betrayal, and the air is thick with things left unsaid.

When the two of you finally reach the end of the tunnel, the sun has started to set, casting the world outside in shades of orange and gold. The entrance opens into a field, the long grass swaying in the wind, and the sky is a vibrant shade of purple. It's a welcome relief from the stifling confines of the tunnel, and the sight of the sky is enough to make your heart ache.

I never want to be underground again, you think, and you take a deep breath, relishing the taste of the air. Beside you, Wrecker does the same, ripping off his helmet and sucking in a deep lungful of air.

"Fresh air," he groans. "I love fresh air."

"Me too," you murmur.

His head turns, and he smiles. "Glad we're outta there, cyar'ika?"

The affectionate word is enough to ruin the mood, and you glance away. "Yes. Glad."

"Good," he replies. His voice is soft, and when you look up, he's staring at you, his eyes searching your face. You want to look away, to avoid his gaze, but his eyes are like a magnet, drawing you in.

"Wrecker—"

"There you are!"

The sound of Hunter's voice startles you, and you tear your gaze away from Wrecker's to find the rest of the squad running towards you. Tech has his datapad in his hand, and his eyes are bright with triumph.

"I have good news," he says. "The tactical droid is—"

"Dead," Crosshair interrupts, and he tosses something at you. You reach up and catch the object, and the metal is still warm from Crosshair's grip. It's the head of a tactical droid, its expression fixed in a permanent nonplussed grimace, the red light behind its eyes extinguished.

"How...?"

"Hunter ripped it apart," Echo explains.

"I didn't like the way it was talking," Hunter mutters, and his shoulders shift uncomfortably.

"So, that's it, then?" Wrecker asks.

"Yep," Echo says. "Mission's done."

"Then let's go home," you sigh.

The men cheer, and the squad gathers around, jostling each other playfully. You smile at the display, and the weight on your chest starts to lift. You're free, the mission's over, and everything is going to go back to normal. It's a relief, and yet...

Your gaze wanders, and your eyes find Wrecker, and your chest aches. His expression is bright, a grin splitting his face, but his eyes are dark, and his smile doesn't reach them. Your hand tightens around the droid's head, and the guilt is almost unbearable.

It's better this way. You remind yourself. Safer. For both of us.

You can't risk the Council discovering what's been going on. If they ever found out, the repercussions would be disastrous. The thought of the men being punished for something that's your fault makes your stomach turn, and the idea of losing them, of never seeing Wrecker again...it's too much.

So you put on a smile and try not to think about the future, try not to think about what's waiting for you, the distance that will grow between you, the way you'll feel when the time comes to say goodbye.

The six of you pile into the ship, and Tech takes the controls, lifting the ship off the ground and flying into the evening sky. The takeoff is bumpy, and the ship groans under the strain, but eventually, you're in the air.

All you want to do is hide in your bunk, but there's a debrief to be done. Hunter is giving his report, and you're trying to pay attention, but all you can think about is the look on Wrecker's face.

You can't get it out of your head, and it's starting to drive you crazy. He was so happy when you got out of the tunnel, and now he looks like he's in pain, and you're the cause. You hate yourself for it, but the fear is still there, lingering, a constant reminder of the dangers that await you, and it's enough to make you stay away.

"We made it out with a few scrapes, but nothing too bad," Hunter finishes. He turns his head, looking between you and Wrecker. "What about the two of you?"

You open your mouth to answer, but the words die on your tongue, and the silence grows. All eyes are on you, and the longer you wait, the more concerned the men become. You look at Wrecker, hoping he'll say something, but he doesn't. He's staring at the floor, his shoulders tense.

"Uh, we're fine," you reply, and the words feel like glass. "No injuries. We're...we're good."

Wrecker scoffs and pushes himself out of his seat, stalking out of the cockpit. You watch him leave, a knot forming in your throat.

"That's odd," Tech murmurs, his eyes following Wrecker.

"Yeah," Hunter mutters. He shakes his head and sighs, then follows Wrecker, leaving you alone with the others

Crosshair raises an eyebrow and turns to look at you, his sharp eyes scanning your face. "Well?"

"What?"

"You really expect us to believe that?" he asks, his tone mocking. "You're a terrible liar, General."

You glance between him and Echo, and both of them are staring at you, their expressions unreadable. You swallow hard and force a laugh, shaking your head.

"There's nothing to tell."

"If there was nothing to tell, Wrecker wouldn't be sulking," Echo points out.

"And you wouldn't be sitting here looking like you're about to throw up," Crosshair adds.

"I am not," you argue.

"Oh, please," Crosshair snorts. "It's written all over your face."

"It's pretty obvious," Echo says, his voice gentler than Crosshair's. "What's wrong?"

You shake your head and rise to your feet. "Nothing."

"We're not gonna leave this alone," Crosshair calls after you.

"We're worried about you," Echo adds.

"Fine," you say, trying not to sound as defeated as you feel. "Worry. It doesn't matter. We'll be on Coruscant soon, and then I won't be your problem anymore."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Echo asks, his voice sharp, but you ignore him and keep walking. You can hear them arguing, their voices rising, and the words they're throwing at each other make your stomach churn. You keep your head down and keep walking, but before you can reach the bunks, you see Hunter and Wrecker. They're standing in the middle of the hallway, their backs to you, and Hunter's hand is on Wrecker's shoulder.

"—just give her some space," Hunter is saying.

"But she's—"

"She's fine," Hunter cuts in. "She just needs some time to herself. You've been a little clingy, and she needs a break."

Wrecker's shoulders stiffen, and the hurt in his voice is palpable. "Is that what she told you?"

"Well, no," Hunter says slowly. "But—"

"Then how do you know?" Wrecker demands, pulling away. "How do you know that's what she wants? How do you know she doesn't..." He trails off, his voice thick, and he turns, and his eyes land on you. The two of you stare at each other, the space between you charged with emotion, and when he speaks again, his words are quiet, and heartbreaking. "...want me?"

"She's a Jedi," Hunter says softly. "They don't...feel those kinds of things."

Wrecker stares at you, his expression open, the longing on his face so plain, so obvious, that your knees feel weak. You can't take it anymore. You turn away, ducking into the refresher and locking the door behind you

The room is silent, the air still. There's no sound but the pounding of your heart, the blood roaring in your ears. You lean against the door and slide to the floor, wrapping your arms around your knees.

You know what you have to do, but the idea is terrifying, the thought of saying goodbye to Wrecker too painful to bear. But he's hurting, and it's because of you. You can't put him through that, not any longer. He deserves better. He deserves someone who can be with him, can give him the affection he deserves, not a cowardly Jedi who can't handle the consequences of her actions.

The realization hurts more than you thought it would, but there's nothing you can do. You've known all along that this would have to end someday, and that someday has come.

The only thing you can do is let him go.

The next day passes in a blur, and the tension is thick in the air. Wrecker doesn't say a word, doesn't look at you, doesn't acknowledge your presence, and you're grateful for it. You can't bring yourself to look at him, and the others are quick to pick up on the change. They cast furtive glances at each other, their concern growing, and their efforts to cheer you up only make the situation worse. You'd much rather they focus their attentions on Wrecker, so you avoid all of them as best you can. 

It's easier this way. Safer. Less painful. 

And maybe, if you keep telling yourself that, you'll start to believe it.

Once you land on Kashyyyk to refuel, the five of them disappear into the village, leaving you alone to meditate. It's the one thing that can help you clear your mind, and you welcome the chance to relax.

The ship is silent, the hum of the engine the only noise, and the quiet helps soothe the ache in your chest. You close your eyes and settle onto the floor, clearing your mind and reaching out with the Force.

When you were a youngling, you were told that the Force was your ally, and you believed it. Now, you know better. The Force doesn't take sides. It simply is. It exists in everything, every living thing, and sometimes, when you meditate, you can feel it. It's a gentle brush against your senses, like a soft caress, and you let yourself sink into the feeling, allowing it to envelop you, and for a moment, everything seems to fade away.

That's why, when you hear the sound of someone approaching, you're startled, and your eyes fly open. You frown, remembering Hunter saying he'd comm you when the others were headed back. It's more than likely Tech sneaking away from the group to tinker with the ship, and so you stand, turning towards the sound.

What you see instead, however, makes your blood run cold. 

Wrecker is standing at the top of the ramp, his form silhouetted by the light outside, his eyes burning into you. You're frozen in place, unable to move, unable to think. All you can do is stare at him, trying to make sense of the expression on his face, but all you can see is anger, and your heart sinks.

"What's going on?" he asks. His voice is low, but there's an edge to it, and his shoulders are stiff.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm talking about the way you've been acting," he says, stepping further into the ship. "Ever since we left Akiva, you've been avoiding me. Why?"

"I haven't been avoiding you," you lie, turning away from him.

"Like kriff, you haven't!" he exclaims, and you flinch, the anger in his voice catching you off guard. "I've tried to talk to you, and you walk away! You won't even look at me!"

"That's not true," you argue. "I'm always—"

"Yeah, it is," he snaps. "You think I don't notice, but I do. You're always running away, avoiding me. Why? Just tell me why. Talk to me. Please."

"Wrecker..."

"Don't say my name like that," he pleads, his voice cracking. "Don't push me away. Please, cyar'ika, I need to know what's going on."

The endearment sends a jolt through your system, and you squeeze your eyes shut, trying not to cry. You've spent the past twenty-four hours doing nothing but thinking about this, trying to steel yourself for what's to come, and yet here he is, begging for answers, and you're not ready. You can't bring yourself to say the words, can't bring yourself to push him away, but if you don't, it will only get harder.

"Please," he whispers. "What did I do? How did I hurt you?"

You can't look at him, but you can't ignore him, either. The last thing you want is for him to think any of this is his fault, and so you force yourself to turn, your eyes meeting his, and your resolve breaks.

"You didn't," you murmur. "It's not your fault, I promise."

"Then tell me what's wrong," he pleads, and his voice is soft, and the desperation in it is enough to break your heart. "Tell me what I can do to fix this."

Wrecker reaches out and takes a step towards you, his hand outstretched, but the gesture is hesitant, almost as if he's afraid to touch you. When you don't move away, he steps closer, his fingers brushing the hem of your sleeve. His gaze is intense, his eyes searching yours, and the ache in his voice is enough to make you want to scream.

"I'm not good at this," he admits. "This...talking stuff. I never know what to say, and I'm sorry. If I made you uncomfortable, or did somethin' wrong, I'm sorry."

"Wrecker..."

"I just want to make things right," he whispers, and his fingers curl around your sleeve. "Just tell me how, and I'll do it. I'll fix it."

He's so earnest, so sincere, and the guilt is crushing. You can't lie to him, not anymore. Not when he's looking at you like this.

"It's not that simple," you say, and the words feel like lead in your mouth.

"Why not?" he asks, his voice raw.

"Because," you say, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. "Because I can't do this anymore, Wrecker. I can't..." You trail off, the words dying on your tongue. You can't bring yourself to say them, can't bring yourself to end things like this. But it's too late. He knows.

He drops his hand, and the look of pain on his face is almost enough to break your heart.

"Do what?" he asks, his voice shaking.

"This," you say, gesturing between the two of you. "Whatever this is. I can't keep pretending that I don't know what you mean when you call me those names. I can't keep acting like it's nothing, because it's not." 

Wrecker stumbles back a step, eyes wide.

"You knew?" he asks, and his voice is barely audible. "This whole time...?"

"Of course I knew," you say, trying to keep the frustration out of your voice. "You think I could have missed it?" You try to laugh, but it comes out as a choked sob. "You're not exactly subtle, Wrecker."

"Oh," he says, and the single word holds a world of hurt. He turns away from you, his hands curling into fists at his sides, and the tension in the air is palpable. A heavy silence settles in, and when he speaks again, his voice is a hoarse whisper.

"Why didn't you say something?" he asks. "Why didn't you tell me to stop?"

"I couldn't," you say, swallowing the lump in your throat. "I...I liked it too much."

"What?" Wrecker turns, his head snapping around to face you, and his expression is torn between hope and horror.

"You heard me," you say, fighting to keep your voice steady. You turn away, but his hand finds your chin, gently tilting your face back to his. The heat of his palm burns into your skin, his touch so gentle, and your heart leaps into your throat.

"Then why are you doing this?" he asks, and the words are barely audible. "If you like it, why are you trying to push me away?"

You close your eyes, trying to gather your thoughts. It's a good question, and one you're not sure you can answer.

"Because," you start, and then trail off. When you open your eyes, his face is inches from yours, and the pain in his eyes is overwhelming. "Because I'm not meant for this. For us." You motion between the two of you. "I have a duty. A responsibility. I can't...I can't give you what you want. What you deserve."

"But I don't want anyone else,” Wrecker says softly, his thumb brushing your cheek. "I just want you."

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you close your eyes, trying not to cry. You can feel the warmth of his body, the weight of his hand, the scent of him surrounding you. You want to pull away, to run and hide, but the way his hands cradle your face, the gentleness in his touch, makes it impossible.

"You don't mean that," you whisper, the words like poison. "You can't. I'm a Jedi. You know what that means. You know what my life is. I can't give you anything, Wrecker. I can't even be there for you. I can't..."

"Stop," he whispers. 

His hands drop, moving to your shoulders, and he turns you, pulling you closer. You let him, and his arms wrap around you, his forehead resting against yours. The touch is warm and gentle, and his eyes are soft, full of pain and love. 

He's never been anything but gentle with you, even when he didn't have to be. Even when the mission demanded he take risks, put his life on the line, he was always careful with you. Always protective. Always gentle. And now, here, when the mission is over, the danger gone, he's still treating you like something precious, something to be treasured.

It's too much.

"Don't say that," he murmurs, his voice low and rough. "You don't get to tell me how I feel. You can't decide for me, cyar'ika. I'm not gonna change my mind. I'm not gonna stop caring about you. So just...just stop. Okay?"

Your hands find his, curling around his wrists. His pulse is pounding under your fingertips, and his chest is rising and falling with each breath, the beat of his heart matching the rhythm of yours. It would be so easy, so tempting, to let yourself give in. To give him the answer he wants. To give him the one thing you've wanted to give him for so long.

But you can't. You can't let him sacrifice his future, his happiness, for you. It's too much. Too selfish.

"Wrecker, please," you say, squeezing his wrists. "Don't make this harder than it has to be."

"Then don't do this," he whispers. "Don't walk away from me. Please." His voice breaks, and his fingers dig into your shoulders. "Just...just give me a chance."

You want to scream. You want to cry. You want to hit him, to shove him away, but you can't. All you can do is stare up at him, his face inches from yours, his eyes begging. It would be so easy, and yet, impossibly difficult. If you do this, if you give in, it's not just your life on the line, but his. If you give him what he wants, if you allow him to care for you, it will only lead to more heartbreak. More pain.

And yet...

You can't bring yourself to pull away, can't bring yourself to deny him. And, if you're honest with yourself, you don't want to. You've wanted this for so long, wanted him, and now that the moment has finally come, the opportunity has presented itself, you can't let it go.

"I can't," you whisper, your voice shaking.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm scared," you confess. You reach out and cup his cheek, running your thumb over the scarred tissue beneath his eye, and his expression softens. "I'm not supposed to feel like this. I'm not supposed to...to love you." The words come out choked, and the tears in your eyes blur your vision. "It's wrong. It's forbidden. It's...it's..."

"It's what?" he asks, his voice rough with emotion. "It's amazing? It's the best feeling in the galaxy?"

"Yes," you whisper, and the tears spill over. "But I can't do this. I can't...I can't let you sacrifice yourself for me."

"You think that's what I'm doing?" Wrecker asks. His hand slips from your shoulder, his fingers stroking your cheek, catching a tear as it falls. "Cyar'ika, I'd sacrifice myself for you a hundred times over. You think I care about what they'd say? They can go kriff themselves. I'd fight every single member of the Council for you, if I had to. But I don't need to. 'Cause they can't tell me what to do, and neither can you."

"You say that now," you mutter. "But—"

"I'll say it every day," he cuts in. "Every single day until you believe me. I don't care about them. I don't care about the rules. I just want you."

"Wrecker, stop," you whisper, but he shakes his head, his hands cupping your face, his thumbs brushing your cheeks.

"I know you're scared. I know you're worried about what's going to happen. But we don't have to think about that. We can just be together. Just us. Nobody has to know. We can figure this out. Together. But you gotta let me in."

You stare at him, stunned by the strength and certainty in his words. He's right. You are scared. You're terrified. And not just of what the Council will do, or what the consequences might be. 

You're afraid of him, of the power he holds over you, the way you feel about him. But standing here, with his hands on your face, his eyes searching yours, it's enough to make you reconsider. Enough to make you question everything. And so you swallow your fears, and you say the words.

"I love you, Wrecker."

His lips part, and his eyes widen, and the sound that comes out of his mouth is halfway between a laugh and a sob.

"You mean that?" he asks, his voice tight with emotion.

"Yes," you say, and the word is like a weight lifting off your shoulders. "I do. I love you."

His arms slip around your waist, and he pulls you into him, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath warm on your face. He doesn't say anything, just stares down at you, his gaze burning, and the silence stretches on, charged with anticipation. And then, finally, he speaks.

"I love you too, cyar'ika," he says, his voice trembling. "More than you know."

Your heart feels like it's going to burst. You pull him close, burying your face in his chest, and his arms wrap around you, holding you tight. It's an overwhelming feeling, this affection, this love, but you can't deny it. Not anymore. And as you stand there, his body wrapped around yours, his hands running through your hair, you know that he's right.

"Don't let go," you whisper, your voice muffled by his armor. "Please, don't ever let me go."

"I won't," he says, his voice a rumble in his chest. "I got you, an'edee. Always."

The words send a jolt of warmth through your body, and you melt into him, allowing yourself to be swept away by the feeling. It's like coming home, the warmth and comfort washing over you, and the tension melts away, leaving only relief in its wake. 

You're not sure how long you stay there, wrapped up in each other, but when he finally pulls away, you're stunned by the look in his eyes. No one has ever looked at you like that. No one has ever seen you like he does.

"Better?" he asks, his voice gentle.

"Yes," you say, smiling up at him. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me," he says. "You don't gotta thank me. Just keep lookin' at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you love me," he murmurs.

"Oh," you reply, blushing. "Well, then, I suppose I should do my best. It wouldn't do for me to fail in that regard."

He chuckles, his hands sliding up your sides. "No, it wouldn't."

You shiver at his touch, the heat of his hands sinking into your skin. His palms are rough and calloused, and his fingers are gentle, tracing the curve of your waist. Your eyes meet, and his smile is so wide, so warm, that you can't help but return it.

"So," he says, his hands drifting lower. "Where does this leave us?"

"Us?"

"Yeah. You know, our relationship," he says. "Are we...together? Or do I still gotta keep pretendin' that you're just a friend?"

You sigh, a smile tugging at your lips. "Together, Wrecker. We're together."

"Good," he grins, his eyes bright. "'Cause I wasn't sure how much longer I could take it. Having you around, knowing how I felt, not being able to do anything about it."

"That's why I was avoiding you," you admit. "I knew if I had to spend much more time with you, I was going to break. I was already having trouble controlling my feelings. If we'd had another mission, I don't think I would have made it. I was so close to telling you how I felt."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Kriff, cyar'ika," he groans, his grip on your waist tightening. "I wish you would've said something sooner. Woulda made things a lot easier."

"I'm sorry," you murmur.

"Don't apologize," he says, his voice husky. "You're worth the wait."

Your breath catches in your throat, and his eyes flick to yours, and his grin turns mischievous.

"What is it, mesh'la?" he asks, his fingers digging into your hips. "Tell me."

"I, um..." You clear your throat, trying to ignore the way his voice makes your insides turn to mush. "It's just that...when you call me those names, it, uh, does things to me."

"Good things?" he asks, leaning in.

"Yes."

"You want me to keep saying them, then?"

"Yes."

"Well, I can do that," he murmurs. His breath is warm on your skin, his voice low and teasing. "And I can do a lot more, too. If you want me to."

You stare up at him, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach, trying not to let your desire show on your face. You've never done anything like this, never even considered doing something like this. And yet, the idea of him touching you, kissing you, fills you with anticipation.

"I'd like that," you manage, your voice hoarse.

"You sure?"

"Yes."

He nods, and he leans down, his lips ghosting over yours. His eyes search your face, and he waits, and when you nod, he presses his lips to yours.

It's a slow, soft kiss, the barest brush of skin on skin. But the contact sends a thrill through your body, and you can't help but press closer, wanting more. Your hands move to the back of his neck, pushing yourself onto the tips of your toes, and he obliges, pulling you in.

His lips are warm, his tongue slick and hot as it traces the seam of your mouth. You open for him, letting him deepen the kiss, and his palm slides up your back, cradling your head. His thumb strokes your cheek, and the gentleness of the gesture sends a rush of warmth through your veins.

When the two of you finally break apart, your lungs are aching, and his breath is ragged. He leans his forehead against yours, his fingers tracing lazy circles on the back of your neck.

"Kriff, cyar'ika," he whispers, and the name sends a thrill through you. You can hear the longing, the need, in his voice, and it's enough to make your knees weak. "Do you have any idea how long I've waited for this?"

"Tell me," you say, your voice shaking.

"Too long," he murmurs. "Far too long."

You lean back, looking up at him. The adoration in his eyes takes your breath away, and you pull him down, kissing him again. This time, the kiss is deeper, more intense, and you can't hold back a moan as his tongue slips past your lips.

The noise seems to ignite something in him, because the next thing you know, his arms are around you, lifting you up with ease. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in, and his hands roam over your back, sliding down to cup your ass. He breaks the kiss, his lips moving to your neck, and the heat of his mouth, the scrape of his teeth, makes you gasp.

Wrecker sets you down on the edge of your bunk, and the height difference is suddenly very apparent. You're not used to being on eye level with him, but now, with your legs spread, his body between them, it's impossible not to notice. His gaze rakes over you, taking in every detail, and the hunger in his eyes sends a jolt of excitement through your body.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw. He sounds awed, like he can't believe his luck, and the compliment makes your heart flutter. "So kriffing beautiful, cyar'ika." 

You lean into his touch, and his fingers brush against your lips, the callouses of his hands rough against your skin. You kiss his fingertips, and the heat in his gaze makes you blush.

"Not as beautiful as you," you murmur. He shakes his head with a wide grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"No one's as beautiful as you," Wrecker says, his hand finding yours. His fingers lace with yours, and he raises your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of your knuckles. His touch is gentle, and the tenderness of the gesture makes your heart clench. "I could look at you forever. Never get tired of it."

The heat on your cheeks is unbearable, and you're not sure how to respond. Words can't capture the emotions coursing through you, and so you lean in, your lips meeting his in a searing kiss. He groans against your mouth, his hand finding the small of your back and pulling you flush against him.

You wrap your legs around him, the need to be closer, to feel his body pressed against yours, overwhelming. He seems to understand, his fingers tangling in your hair, his teeth nipping at your lip.

"I'm gonna take such good care of you, cyar'ika," he promises, his voice rough with emotion. "Promise."

"You already have," you whisper. "Just having you here is more than I deserve."

"Don't talk like that," he mutters. His hand slides up, cupping the back of your head, and he kisses the corner of your mouth. He tilts your face up to meet his, and the intensity of his gaze is almost overwhelming. "I've never wanted anyone the way I want you. I'm not gonna give that up. You're mine, and I'm not lettin' go."

The words are a jolt to your system, the possessiveness of his tone making you tremble. He's always been protective of you, but this is different. This is more than just a desire to keep you safe. This is something else entirely. You can't find the words to respond, and so you nod, swallowing the lump in your throat and praying the tears in your eyes don't spill over.

"Wrecker," you whisper. "I..."

"I love you," he murmurs, his nose brushing against yours. "So much."

The words are a balm on your aching heart, and the tears finally fall. Wrecker leans in and kisses them away, his lips soft and gentle against your cheeks. The tenderness, the closeness, it's too much to bear, and the emotions welling up inside you are overwhelming. You wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his chest, and he holds you tight, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.

"I got you," he whispers. "It's okay. You're okay."

"I'm sorry," you murmur. "I don't know why I'm crying."

"I do," he replies. He cups your chin, tilting your face up to meet his. His eyes are soft, and his lips curl into a gentle smile. "You've been through a lot, and you're tired. You're allowed to cry."

You nod, wiping the tears from your face. He's right. The past few days have been exhausting, emotionally and physically. Between the mission, the tension between the two of you, the anxiety and uncertainty, it's a miracle you're not falling apart.

"Hey," he murmurs. "Stop thinking so hard. It's okay."

"I'm not supposed to let my emotions get the best of me," you murmur.

"That's some banthashit, an'edee," he says, and his voice is teasing, but there's a hint of steel in it. "You're human. You're allowed to have emotions."

"I suppose," you reply, unable to keep the smile off your face.

"Good," he says, and his thumb strokes your cheek. "We'll make this work. We'll find a way."

"Wrecker," you sigh.

"Shh," he cuts in. "None of that. We're together, right?"

"Right."

"Then trust me. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you," he promises. "I'll keep you safe."

"I know," you whisper, closing your eyes.

"We'll figure it out," Wrecker says. "It might be hard, but we'll find a way. We always do."

He leans in and kisses you again, his lips soft and warm. You kiss him back, allowing yourself to give in, to let go of the fear and worry, to let yourself be swept away by the feeling. He's right. It will be difficult, but it's worth it.

This is where you belong, in his arms, and no matter what the future holds, no matter what the Order says, no matter the consequences, you know you'll always have him. And that's more than you could have ever hoped for.

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