Hello ma'am, I was wondering if you'd be interested in writing a romantic fluff fic for a Togruta reader x wrecker, i'm also okay if you add spicy to a degree your comfortable with of course the setting is completely up to you i'm excited to see what you come up with my only request is that it's not sad or whump or angst i need to keel over from how sweet it is lol i hope it's not to much thank you for your time and have a wonderful day 🥰
Where the Tide Slows
Parings: Wrecker X Female Togruta Reader
Word count: 5.9k
Plot: As an unspoken crush lingers between you and Wrecker, what starts as a shared meal slowly turns into something much warmer.
warnings: NSFW, 18+ only. Explicit sexual content and language, friends to lovers, mutual pining, soft sex, Togruta female reader (mauve skin tone, lavender, pale pink, and cool blue opalescent eye colour as requested), slight size difference, creampie, aftercare, porn with feelings, cuddling, cunnilingus, breast sex/titfucking, brief come play, vaginal fingering, alcohol intake, consensual.
Authors note: this is my first tiem writing a togruta reader so hopefully i've written it to justice. enjoy! thanks for the request. @rinkusu-no-joo ❤️
The sun hung high over Pabu, scattering shards of light across the water. Wrecker stood with his boots planted wide in the sand on the beach, one hand held out at arm’s length with a ripe fruit wobbling in his palm.
Crosshair didn’t even glance up from the rifle scope. “You blink, you lose a finger.”
Wrecker snorted. “Relax. I trust ya.”
The blaster cracked. Fruit exploded in a bright wet spray with juice splattering Wrecker’s knuckles and dripping down his forearm. He yelped anyway, shaking his hand like it stung.
Crosshair lowered the rifle with a sigh, already reaching for the basket for another fruit. “You’re distracted.”
“I am not,” Wrecker said, too fast. His eyes had already slid past the docks, past the bobbing boats and the workers hauling nets and straight to you.
Crosshair didn’t bother following the gaze. He knew exactly where it landed. “If you stare any harder, she might notice. Or spontaneously combust. One or the other.”
Wrecker’s cheeks went ruddy. “Hey! I’m just… lookin’.”
“Sure.”
“She’s just..” Wrecker waved vaguely, searching. “Real pretty.”
Crosshair said nothing, sliding another piece of fruit into Wrecker’s palm. Wrecker frowned. “You’re supposed to agree.”
“Not getting involved,” Crosshair muttered, already lining up the next shot.
The blaster cracked again and the fruit vanished in a puff of pulp. He stared at his empty hand, then sighed. “I’m no good at this stuff.”
“At what?” Crosshair asked dryly.
“Sayin’ things. Feelings.” Wrecker swallowed hard, rubbing the back of his neck. “This time it’s… different.”
Crosshair finally looked at him with a long, assessing expression. “I know.”
Wrecker blinked. “You do?”
“I’m not stupid.”
Across the dock, you moved between the stalls, a woven basket tucked against your hip.
Barefoot as always, the warmth grounded you to the island the way shoes never could. You looked peacefu, mauve tone catching the sunlight in soft, shifting gleams. White markings curved across your cheeks and brow like elegant strokes; your montrals rose tall and striped, lekku swaying gently with each step, one draping over the curve of your teal crop top, the patterned hip sash brushing your thigh.
You were done shopping for the day, ready to head back home when your foot caught a slick patch of spilled water.
Before you could lose your balance, a huge hand steadied you instantly. “You need any help?”
Your heart gave a quick thump at the familiar voice. “Wrecker—!” The basket tipped, weight shifting.
“I’ll take that as a maybe,” he teased, already lifting it from your hands with that big, easy grin.
Heat bloomed under your skin. “Thanks, muscles.” If he’d been any less strong, the basket might’ve slipped. Instead, he swallowed hard and smiled like you’d just handed him a medal.
Curious, he peeked inside the basket. “You cookin’ a feast?”
“Trying to,” you said. “Used to do it a lot back home. Figured I’d pick it back up.”
“Smells good already.” His gaze dropped to your bare feet, then flicked back up. “Hey, don’t your feet hurt? Walkin’ around like that all day?”
You smiled softly. “The ground and I are friends. Shoes just get in the way.”
Wrecker stared for a second, then nodded like that made perfect sense in his world.
An impulse bubbled up before you could second-guess it. “Actually… maybe you’d like to have dinner with me tonight?”
He froze. “Like…me and the guys?”
You stepped a little closer, hands folding behind your back as the sun warmed your skin. “I was thinking just us. If that’s okay?”
Wrecker’s knees nearly gave out. “Yeah,” he quickly.. “Yeah, absolutely.”
You paced your small kitchen, flustered heat prickling your skin as you stirred the pot. “Okay, think, Grandmother always said a pinch of that spice first, then the herbs… or was it the other way around?” You muttered to yourself, tasting a spoonful and grimacing, “No, that’s not right.”
Your stomach twitched with nerves, as you rummaged for ingredients.
“Get it together. It’s just dinner. With him.” A soft trill escaped your throat as you wiped your brow, hoping it would all turn out okay.
Once the food was simmering safely, you slipped away to change. The outfit decision had been circling in your mind all afternoon as each option felt too much or not enough.
Eventually, you settled on something that felt like home and something that honored Shili without being overly formal. You stared at yourself in the mirror, fingers smoothing out your robe, wondering if Wrecker would like something more or something less.
The knock came sooner than expected, jolting you from your thoughts.
Wrecker filled the doorway, clutching a small bundle of wildflowers. He’d cleaned up nicely; a smart button-up shirt tucked into his trousers, top button undone for a relaxed look (his expression said otherwise), sleeves rolled to his elbows showing his muscular forearms.
“For you,” he spoke, suddenly shy.
Your smile bloomed immediately. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”
He couldn’t look away. The lantern light of your apartment caught your eyes. Soft, opalescent, swirling lavender into pale pink and cool blue. It stopped him cold. “You look… really pretty,” he breathed quietly.
You ducked your head, pleased. “Thank you. Uh, come in, watch the step, it’s a bit uneven.”
He ducked under the frame carefully, then stood there like he was afraid to move shoulders hunched a little, hands clasped in front. His size made the cozy space feel even smaller, but he was trying so hard not to loom.
You noticed right away. “Hey, relax. You’re not going to break anything. Make yourself at home. Sit, or help me stir if you want.”
Wrecker rubbed his neck, chuckling nervously. “Yeah? I don’t wanna mess up your place. I’m kinda… big.”
You laughed softly. “So? I like that about you. Besides, my home’s meant for company. No point in a pack mentality if everything’s too fragile, right?”
He eased a bit at that, shoulders dropping as he followed you in.
Once seated for food, dinner passed in easy warmth with conversation flowing like the ocean outside. You raised your cup first. “To good company?”
“And good cookin’,” Wrecker added, clinking his cup to yours.
He asked about Pabu first, but soon circled back to you. “So, Shili, right? Tell me more. What was it like growin’ up there? All those stories about packs and feasts sound kinda nice.”
You leaned in, eyes lighting up that he seemed interested. “It was everything. Warm all the time, like Pabu. Endless fields, hunts at dawn. My family was close; we cooked together for the whole pack. These recipes?” You gestured to the plates. “From my grandmother. She’d gather us kids around the fire, teaching us to season by feel. I fumbled through it earlier, talking to myself like a fool, trying to remember stuff.”
Wrecker grinned, taking another bite. “Well, you nailed it. Bet you miss that, the family thing. Being alone here must feel… off.”
You nodded. “It does, sometimes. Togruta aren’t made for isolation; we thrive on closeness, sharing space. Pabu’s welcoming and everything, but it’s not the same.” you shrugged, taking another forkful of food. “I’ve adapted, though. What about you? Clones, squads… that sounds like a pack too.”
He chuckled, setting his fork down. “Yeah, kinda. Me and the boys have been through everything. Missions, explosions, you name it. But it’s different now, settlin’ down. I like it, but… I dunno, sometimes I feel like the big guy who sticks out.”
“You don’t stick out,” you say gently. “You fit. Right here, at least.”
When you served dessert, there was a shift. Knees brushed beneath the table, fingers lingered when passing plates. He fed you a bite of fruit, watching your reaction like it was the most important thing in the galaxy.
“You’ve got really pretty eyes,” he blurted out softly. “Hard not to get lost in ’em.” You hid your smile behind your hand, bashful and giddy.
“Would you like a drink on the balcony?” you asked, voice a little lighter than you felt. “The sunset view is to die for.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”
He stood to help clear the plates whilst you poured two glasses of rum and carried them out together. The balcony chairs were low and wide, cushioned with woven mats that smelled faintly of salt and sun. You settled side by side, close enough that your bare arm brushed his sleeve.
You were right, the view was beautiful. The sky had gone molten gold at the edges, bleeding into deep rose and violet over the water. Waves rolled in slow, steady breaths below, and the air carried the warm scent of blooming night flowers.
For a while neither of you spoke and Wrecker kept glancing over at you.
The first time you pretended not to notice, sipping your drink and letting the rum warm your throat.
The second time you felt the shift of his gaze like a brush of heat along your cheek, but you kept your eyes on the horizon, lips curving just a fraction.
The third time you turned your head slowly, catching him mid-stare. You raised one brow, playful. “Like what you see?”
Without missing a beat, he answered, voice low and sure. “Absolutely.”
Your cheeks heated instantly, skin deepening to a richer shade under the sunset glow. You ducked your head with a soft giggle, lifting your hand to cover your mouth again out of habit.
Wrecker moved before you could hide completely. His large hand caught your wrist gently, “Don’t,” he murmured. “You shouldn’t hide your smile. It’s pretty.”
The words landed soft but heavy, stealing your breath for a second. You lowered your hand, letting him see the full curve of your lips, the way your delciate sharp canines peeked just a little when you smiled for real.
“Thank you,” you said quietly. Then, because it felt only fair, “Yours too. Your smile, I mean. It lights up everything.”
He looked almost surprised, like no one had ever said it back to him. His thumb kept tracing lazy circles on your wrist.
Next thing you knew, his fingers slid down, threading through yours. His hand dwarfed yours completely - calloused, scarred, strong—but the way he held you was careful, like he was afraid of holding too tight. You squeezed back, and for a long stretch of minutes you just sat like that: hands linked, watching the sky bleed into dusk.
Eventually Wrecker spoke, “Why’d you ask just me tonight?”
You shifted slightly, fingers curling over one of your lekku and holding it closer to your shoulder as if for comfort. You took a slow breath before answering, “I… thought it was obvious,” you admitted, staring at where your fingers laced with his. “That I like you. A lot.”
You risked a glance up at him; his eyes were fixed on you, soft and wide. “I thought maybe I read the situation right. That you… liked me too.”
The words hung there, vulnerable in the quiet.
Wrecker didn’t look away. His thumb resumed its slow stroke along the back of your hand.
“Yeah,” he said after a second, rough around the edges but honest. “You read it right. Been tryin’ to figure out how to say it for weeks. Didn’t wanna mess it up.”
It was like music to your ears.
“You’re different. Special. Not just pretty—though kriff, you are—but the way you are with people, with the island, with everything. Makes me feel like I could just…be me.”
Your heart gave a hard thump and you leaned a fraction closer.
“I feel the same,” you whispered. “With you, I… I just want to be near you. I don’t want to be alone tonight, Wrecker. Maybe not ever, if that’s okay.”
He exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for months. “More than okay.”
The sunset had faded to deep indigo now, stars beginning to prick through. You tilted your head, meeting his gaze fully, your eyes swirling with soft colour in the dim light. “So,” you begin, voice barely audible, “what happens next?”
Wrecker’s free hand lifted slowly, hesitating before he cupped your cheek. His thumb brushed the white marking along your jaw with reverence.
“Whatever you want,” he murmured. “I’m right here.”
Wrecker’s thumb traced one last slow circle over the back of your hand before he let go lift his other palm to your cheek again, cradling it like something priceless. “Can Ikiss you?”
You didn’t trust your voice right then. You only nodded, eyes locked on his as you leaned across the small space between the chairs.
The first press of his lips was tentative. Just a soft peck, warm and brief, like he was testing if this was real. You felt the faint tremor in his breath against your mouth.
Then another. Longer this time, lingering.
And another.
Until the pecks melted together into something deeper. Your lips moved in gentle rhythm, tasting the faint sweetness of rum and fruit still on his mouth. His left hand slid from your cheek to cup your jaw fully.
Your own hand found his knee, steadying yourself as much as him.
His free hand drifted higher, fingertips grazing the striped length of your lekku where it draped over your shoulder.
You shuddered with a sharp, involuntary breath. Wrecker pulled back instantly, eyes wide with worry. “You okay? Did I—?”
You shook your head quickly, cheeks hot. “I’m okay,” you whispered, voice a little breathless. “They’re… sensitive. In a good way.”
He searched your face for a long second, then exhaled, the tension easing from his shoulders. His fingers stroked the base of your lekku now in deliberate yet feather-light touches. “Like that?” he murmured.
You nodded, biting your lip around a small, pleased sound.
For another minute you stayed like that. Kissing slow and unhurried, hands exploring in gentle arcs. His fingers learned the texture of your lekku, stroking from base to tip in long, soothing passes that sent warm sparks down your spine. Your palm slid a little higher on his thigh, feeling the muscle tense under your touch.
Eventually you drew back just enough to speak, lips brushing his as you did.
“Wrecker…Do you want to take this inside?”
His breath hitched. He tried to play it cool, but the ache was already there, straining against his pants and impossible to hide completely.
“Yeah,” he rasped, nodding once, then again like he needed to convince himself. “Yeah. Please.”
You rose first, fingers still tangled with his, and guided him back through the open doorway into the warmth of your home. The lighting had dimmed to a soft amber glow, casting long shadows across the room. You paused near the sturdy dining table and leaned back against its edge.
Your fingers drifted to the ties of your flowing robes, brushing the fabric in a slow, deliberate slide. Not pulling exactly, just tracing the neckline, letting it slip a fraction lower to reveal more lavender skin and the delicate curve where your collarbone met shoulder. A silent invitation. Just for him.
Wrecker crossed the room in two strides, towering over you. His chest rose and fell faster than before; you could feel the heat radiating off him, smell the clean salt-and-sun scent that clung to his skin. He stopped close enough that his breath fanned across your face.
His hand came up slowly, knuckles grazing the soft fabric at your shoulder you just touched. He hooked two fingers under the edge and tugged ever so gently, easing it down one arm, then the other. The robe loosened, pooling at your elbows, baring the smooth expanse of your torso to the lamplight. Your skin glowing warm, white markings curving elegantly over your ribs and hips.
You looked up at him through your lashes, voice a husky murmur. “I’ve been feeling so hot all evening…”
Wrecker’s eyes darkened, pupils blown wide. A low rumble vibrated in his chest—half laugh, half groan. “Then I should help you out of these,” he answers, voice thick. “Can’t have you uncomfortable, mesh’la.”
His lips found your neck as his hands worked.
He kissed the sensitive spot just below your jaw first, open-mouthed and warm, then trailed lower along the column of your throat. Each press of his mouth sent little jolts through you and your head tipped back on instinct.
He sucked lightly, just enough to make you gasp, and his fingers slipped beneath the remaining ties of your robe, loosening them until the fabric whispered to the floor in a soft heap.
Cool air kissed your bare skin, but his body heat chased it away instantly. His palms slid up your sides. His huge, tough hands spanning almost your entire waist. His thumbs brush the undersides of your breasts in a slow, almost worshipful sweep. He groaned against your neck when he felt how hard your nipples had already peaked.
“Kriff… you’re beautiful,” he breathed, “So soft. So perfect.”
One hand stayed at your waist while the other cupped the back of your head, fingers placed gently into the base of your montrals. The touchdrew a needy whimper from you. Your hips rocked forward without thought, pressing against the hard ridge of him through his pants.
He hissed softly, hips jerking once before he reined himself in. “Easy,” he murmured, though his own voice shook. “Wanna take my time with you.”
But his mouth was already moving again; kissing down the slope of your shoulder, then lower, lips brushing the swell of your breast. He paused there, breath hot against your skin, waiting for permission.
“Yes,” you whispered. “Please.”
Soft pen-mouthed presses along the curve, tasting the warmth of your lavender skin like he was memorising every inch. Then, his mouth closed over one nipple, slow and careful, tongue circling once, twice, before he sucked softly. So softly you felt the pull all the way down your spine. A sound escaped you, high and trembling, something between a gasp and a sob. It was tender, almost too tender.
Worshipped rather than claimed.
Your head arched back, montrals brushing the wood as your neck stretched long. One of your legs lifted on instinct, hooking around his lower back, heel pressing in to draw him impossibly closer. The movement made your sex grind lightly against the hard line of him through his pants, and he groaned low into your skin, the vibration traveling straight through you.
Wrecker eased you down fully onto the table, the wood was cool beneath your back. He straightened just long enough to look at you as you spread out beneath him, lekku fanned across the surface, lavender skin flushed deeper at your cheeks and chest, opalescent eyes half-lidded and glowing softly. Hunger flickered in his gaze
But as promised, he didn’t rush.
His fingers went to the buttons of his shirt. One by one they came undone, revealing the broad, scarred expanse of his chest. The fabric slid off his shoulders and then he was back over you, caging you gently with his arms braced on either side of your head.
His mouth returned to your breasts like he couldn’t stay away. This time he wasn’t quite so careful. His tongue hungrily flicked over one peaked nipple and then sucked harder, drawing it deep into the wet heat of his mouth.
He rolled the other between his thumb and forefinger, a gentle pinch that made your hips jerk. You whimpered, hand flying to his shoulder to anchor yourself. Your nails dug lightly into the muscle there—not to hurt, just to hold on as pleasure coiled tighter in your belly.
You moaned his name and he answered with a rough exhale against your skin.
“Mesh’la…” His voice cracked on the word. He kissed a slow path back up your chest, your throat, until his forehead rested against yours. “You feel so good. Too good. Tell me if it’s too much.”
Your leg tightened around him, pulling him closer until there was no space left between your bodies.
“Not too much,” you whispered, voice trembling with want. “More. Please.”
His hips rolled against you deliberately, grinding hard enough that you both gasped. One of his hands slid down your side, palm flattening over your hip. The other stayed at your breast, kneading softly while his mouth found yours again. The kiss was deeper now, tongues sliding together in lazy, heated strokes.
Wrecker broke the kiss just long enough to murmur against your lips, “Gonna take care of you. Promise. Just… let me feel you like this a little longer.”
Wrecker’s mouth crashed back to yours with a new edge but still gentle in its care. You met him eagerly, tongues tangling in wet, languid strokes, tasting each other like you’d both been starving for it. His hand cradled the back of your head again, fingers splayed wide through the base of your montrals. You couldn’t help but moan into his mouth, the sound swallowed by the kiss.
He broke away just long enough to breathe, forehead pressed to yours, voice wrecked. “Need you closer.”
Before you could answer, his arms hooked under your thighs and back, lifting you like you were made of air.
He cradled you against his broad chest as he carried you through the open doorway to your bedroom. Your legs wrapped loosely around his waist, lekku draping over his shoulders like warm silk. You buried your face in the crook of his neck for a moment, inhaling the scent of him, heart hammering.
He eased you down to sit on the edge of the low bed, mattress dipping under your weight meanwhile Wrecker stood between your knees.
Your hands moved on instinct, flying to the waistband of his pants, fingers fumbling with the clasp. You looked up at him through your lashes, opalescent eyes swirling with heat. The look you gave him was pure want and adoration.
He watched you, throat working on a swallow. You tugged the fabric down, freeing him in one careful pull. His cock sprang free. Heavy, thick, already flushed dark and throbbing hard in your palm. The size of him made your breath catch; no surprise, really, but seeing it and feeling the velvet heat sent a fresh pang of arousal straight to your core.
You gasped softly, thumb brushing over the slick tip. “Wrecker… you’re huge.”
He let out a shaky laugh, hand coming up to cup your cheek. “Yeah… sorry if–"
“Don’t apologise,” you whispered, stroking him slowly from base to head, feeling every ridge, every vein. “ You’re wondeful. And I want it. I want all of you.”
His hips jerked once into your grip. “Kriff… you’re gonna kill me sayin’ things like that.”
You smiled sharp canines glinting and then gave his cock a playful little slap against your breast. The smack made you both groan. You did it again, lighter this time, watching his eyes darken as the head left a faint glistening trail across your lavender skin.
“Like that?” you teased, voice husky.
“‘Like everything you do,” he rasped. “But if you keep that up, I’m not gonna last long enough to make you feel good.”
You tilted your head, pressing your breasts together around his length. “Then use them. Fuck my tits, Wrecker. I want to feel you.”
He exhaled roughly, hands coming to cup the sides of your breasts gently at first, then firmer as he guided himself between them. The heat of him as well as the drag of his cock sliding through the soft valley made you whimper. He rocked forward with slow controlled thrusts, watching himself disappear between your breasts, the head bumping your chin on every upstroke.
“Maker, look at you,” he murmured, voice thick. “So soft around me.”
You leaned forward just enough to flick your tongue over the tip when it crested, tasting salt and heat. He shuddered, hips stuttering.
“Careful,” he warned, half-laughing and half-pleading. “You’re too good at this.”
After a few more slow slides he pulled back, breathing hard. His hands slid to your hips, urging you to lie back. You did, scooting up the bed until your head rested on the pillows, legs parting instinctively.
Wrecker crawled over you, clearly being careful not to crush you with his weight which made you smile lovingly at him. He chuckles softly, relaxing before bracing on his forearms so he hovered just above. His cock dragged a hot, wet line up your body as he moved: over your stomach, leaving a slick trail.
he settled between your thighs, thick length resting heavy against your folds, not pushing in yet—just grinding slow and deliberate, coating himself in your wetness.
His lips began to move lower, mapping the white markings along your ribs, the dip of your waist, the sensitive curve of your hip. When he reached the apex of your thighs he paused, looking up at you with dark, reverent eyes.
“Can I taste you?” he asked, voice rough. “I just wanna make you feel so good.”
Your breath hitched. You nodded quick and eager as your legs fell open wider. “Please.”
Wrecker settled between your thighs like he belonged there. His big hands slid under your hips, lifting you gently so he could drape your legs over his broad shoulders. The first brush of his tongue was slow, flat and warm, lapping slowly along your slit from bottom to top. You gasped, hips twitching up toward his mouth.
He groaned at the taste, low and hungry. “So sweet… been thinkin’ about this for so long.”
“Wrecker…”
Then he dove in properly. His tongue circled your clit in slow, firm strokes, sucking lightly, then harder when your fingers tightened in the sheets beneath you. He alternated from long licks to quick flicks, then sealing his lips around the sensitive bud and sucking with gentle pulses that made your back arch off the bed.
Soft trills and whimpers spilled from your throat as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter. “Wrecker! Oh stars, right there-.”
He hummed against you, the vibration sending sparks through your core. One thick finger pressed at your entrance before sliding in to the first knuckle, then deeper when you rocked down to meet it. He curled it just right, stroking that spot inside while his tongue worked relentless circles on your clit.
Your thighs trembled around his head. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.”
He didn’t. He added a second finger, stretching you gently, pumping in time with his mouth until your whole body tensed, breath coming in short, desperate pants.
You came with a broken cry. Back bowing, core pulsing hard around his fingers as waves of pleasure crashed through you. Wrecker worked you through it, slowing his tongue but not stopping, lapping softly until you were trembling, oversensitive and practically boneless beneath him.
When he finally lifted his head, lips shiny and chin wet, his eyes were dark with awe.
“You’re so beautiful when you come,” he whispered, crawling back up to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue but his fingers still very much in your pussy.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down until his weight settled over you, comforting and solid.
“Need you inside me,” you breathed against his mouth. “Now.”
Wrecker kissed you through the aftershocks, swallowing the last soft whimpers that spilled from your lips. His fingers stayed buried inside you for a moment longer, curling gently until your thighs stopped trembling around his wrist. Only then did he ease them free, bringing them to his mouth to taste you one last time with a low, appreciative groan.
He shifted, rolling to lie beside you on the bed. The mattress dipped deeply under his weight as he pulled you against him with your back to his chest. One thick arm bands around your waist to hold you close and you could feel his heart against your spine, the hard length of his cock resting heavy along the curve of your arse.
He nuzzled into the crook of your neck,“You’re so beautiful and make so many pretty noises,” he murmured, voice rough with want as you purr in pleasure.
You arched back into him instinctively, “I need you inside,” you whispered again, reaching back to guide his hand down between your thighs. “Please, Wrecker… want to feel you stretch me.”
He exhaled shakily against you, the sound almost pained with how badly he wanted it. His free hand wrapped around the base of his cock and he lined himself up carefully at your entrance as you raised your leg. The broad head nudged your folds, parting them slowly, teasing the sensitive rim without pushing in yet.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” he said, serious even through the haze of lust. “I’ll go slow.”
You nodded, breath hitching. “I trust you.”
He pressed forward. Inch by careful inch.
The stretch was immediate and intense. Your walls fluttered around him, trying to accommodate his girth as he sank deeper. A soft, broken moan tore from your throat; your head fell back against his shoulder, montrals brushing his cheek. Wrecker froze the second he felt you tense, one hand sliding up to cup your breast, thumb circling your nipple in soothing strokes.
“Easy, mesh’la,” he breathed, “You’re takin’ me so good. Look at you… so tight around me. Feels like everything.”
He rocked gently once he was halfway in, letting you adjust and letting your body soften around him. Each shallow thrust pushed him a little deeper until finally, he was seated to the hilt, hips flush against your arse and cock throbbing deep inside you.
You both groaned in unison.
He started moving then. Long, languid strokes that dragged every thick inch along your walls, pulling out almost to the tip before sliding back in with a wet, filthy sound. The slap of skin on skin filled the quiet room. His pelvis met your arse with each measured thrust, the lewd squelch of your arousal coating him unmistakable.
“Stars, listen to that,” he rasped against your ear, voice needy. “Hear how wet you are for me? So perfect. So wet and hot and mine.”
His hand stayed at your breast, kneading softly, rolling your nipple between his fingers in time with his thrusts. The other arm kept you locked against his chest. Possessive but gentle; holding you like he never wanted to let go.
You moaned louder, hips rocking back to meet him, chasing the deep grind of his cock against that spot inside you that made stars burst behind your eyes.
Your hand slipped down between your legs, fingers finding where you were joined. You felt him sliding in and out, stretching you wide on every inward stroke. The sensation was obscene and intoxicating. You traced the base of him as he pulled out, feeling how soaked he was, how your lips clung to him like they didn’t want to let go.
Then your fingertips found your swollen clit, and you started rubbing slow circles, matching the rhythm of his thrusts.
Wrecker felt it immediately. The way your walls clenched harder around him when you touched yourself. “Kriff—yeah, touch yourself, sweetheart,” he groaned, hips stuttering for a second before he found the pace again. “Love feelin’ you squeeze me like that. Show me how good it feels.”
Each deep thrust punched a soft cry from your throat. His hand left your breast to join yours between your legs. He didn’t take over, just resting there and feeling you work your clit while he filled you over and over.
“Could love you like this all night,” he moans after a few minutes. He had shifted just slightly, angling himself enough to lean over and kiss your lips. “My perfect girl. So good for me. Gonna make ya come again… wanna feel ya pulse around my cock.”
Your fingers sped up, slick and frantic now, chasing the edge while he rocked into you steadily, kissing and moaning against his lips.
“Wrecker… I’m close…”
“I’ve got ya,” he murmured, against your mouth. “Let go for me, mesh’la. Come on my cock. Let me feel it.”
With one more deep thrust, harder this time and grinding against that spot, you shattered.
Your orgasm hit like a wave walls clamping down hard around him in pulsing waves. You cried out his name, fingers still circling your clit through the aftershocks, milking every last tremor.
Wrecker groaned low and broken, hips stuttering as your release dragged him right to the edge with you.
“Gonna…fuck. Where do you want me?”
“Inside,” you cried, voice breaking with need. “Come inside me, please, Wrecker—I want to feel you fill me.”
He groaned deep in his chest, the sound raw and desperate. “Mesh’la…” He eased out of you slowly. You whimpered at the sudden emptiness, but he was already moving, strong arms guiding you with tender strength.
“C’mere,” he murmured, sitting up against the headboard and pulling you into his lap. “Wanna see your face.”
You straddled him face-to-face now, knees bracketing his hips on the crumpled sheets. His hands settled at your waist as you sank down onto him, the stretch even more intimate this way. Feeling every ridge as he filled yu completely. Your arms wrapped around his neck; his came around your back, holding you flush to his chest.
“Like this,” he whispered, forehead resting against yours. “Just like this. You’re so perfect… takin’ me so sweet.”
You rocked together slowly, the gentle rolls of your hips meeting his careful upward thrusts. The rhythm was unhurried, loving, each slide drawing soft gasps from you both. Your breasts pressed to his scarred chest, nipples brushing his skin with every movement.
“Wrecker…” You moaned his name like a plea, nails grazing his back lightly.
He kissed you then. Slow tongues sliding in lazy tandem with your bodies. “I’ve got ya,” he breathed into your mouth. “Gonna fill you… gonna give you everything.”
The words sent fresh heat pooling in your core. You clenched around him, hips circling tighter, chasing the building pressure. His hands guided you, lifting you just enough to sink back down over and over but never rough. Just always reverent.
Your whole body melted into him, the intimacy overwhelming from the skin on skin, your hearts pounding in sync and his massive frame enveloping you like safety.
“I’m close—” he gasped, sweaty forehead pressing to yours.
“Cum for me baby,” you beg quietly.
Your soft command was all he needed as he came with a shuddering groan. Hot spurts filled you, thick and warm, spilling deep until you felt every twitch. He held you through it, arms locked around you, whispering praises into your ear: “So good… my perfect girl… love feelin’ you like this…”
You stayed wrapped together as the aftershocks faded—his cock softening slowly inside you, cum dripping lazily where you were joined. Eventually he slipped free, but he didn’t let go. He eased you down beside him, pulling you half onto his chest, one leg tangled with yours.
“That was…”
“I’ve got you,” he murmured, voice soft and soothing now. “You did so good for me.”
He pressed gentle kisses to your shoulder, your neck, the base of your lekku. “You okay?” he whispered, nuzzling into your body. “Need anything?”
You shook your head weakly, turning just enough to tuck your face into the crook of his neck. “Just… stay. Hold me.”
“Always,” he promised, arms tightening around you. “Never lettin’ go.”
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