#Star Wars X Reader

[merlincmgirl]

Title Kink - Commander Mayday x FReader - NSFW

Summary: Your trooper likes hearing you call him Commander, even though you seem unable to remember to say it when speaking with him.

Characters: Commander Mayday

Pairing: Commander Mayday x F!Reader

Word Count: 11,256

Warnings: fingering, oral (female receiving), wall sex, PinV sex, title kink, pushing and pulling in terms of their relationship, trying to wind each other up. pre-established relationship

Author's Note: I'm sorry this is so late. I've had some terrible news that has really shaken me, and I've got an awful ear ache that doesn't seem to want to go away. So I'll still be writing the rest of the kinktober stories, it's just that they will be severely behind schedule.

New Recruit inbound. Prepare for arrival.

The words were one of the few communications that Mayday had received off the Empire. He sincerely hoped it was more than just one recruit after all of his requests for reinforcements and supplies.

As always when dealing with the Empire, he was severely disappointed when the transport had landed and a young woman stepped off, two crates being turbo-lifted behind you. This was not what he had expecting. Sure he hadn’t expected much, but a civvie, and two boxes of supplies? It was worse than what he had prepared himself for.

Taking a look at the civvie that the Empire had sent, he hoped you were the officer in charge and that there would be someone coming down behind you. Glancing aboard the craft, he realised that he would have no such luck. You were smaller than him, already wrapped up from the biting winds and freezing temperatures. Well at least he wouldn’t have to dig out some winter gear out for you. Your face was obscured by a heavy scarf and goggles as you walked towards him.

“Commander Mayday?” you asked, voice tentative and unsure.

“Yep, I suppose you’re my new recruit” Mayday remarked, looking you over. He wondered how he would keep you alive from the raiders and the awful conditions on the base.

“That’s right, I’m-” you started but he held up a hand.

“I know who you are. I take it those are my supplies that I requested 3 months ago” he stated, glancing at the crates. He hoped that they had at least brought caf. God knows the men needed it to keep awake during these gruelling nights.

“They are, I’m sorry that there’s not more. Apparently, these were the only ones the Empire desired to send to you” you replied, shivering as the cool blast of air made it’s way through the base.

Mayday grunted, not surprised in the least. “Come on, I’ll give you the tour. The droids can bring the supplies in” Mayday instructed, turning around and heading back into the base. At least it was marginally warmer than outside, not much, but enough that he could start to defrost a little.

As you followed after him, two other clone troopers came out one of the side rooms, blasters in hand. You were actually surprised that there wasn’t more of them.

“Oh good, I wondered if you’d left yet. This is our new recruit” he introduced, giving them your name, before turning back to them. “This is Hexx and Veetch, the remainder of my men here on Barton 4” Mayday told you.

There was only 3 clones here on the planet, manning the depot? Where was everyone else? Surely the Empire had sent a whole squadron. Trying to school your face into pleasant neutrality, you sent the troopers a small wave.

“Keep a lookout, it’s been too quiet around here lately” Mayday ordered, clapping both troopers on the shoulders before continuing on. “This way civvie!” he called, and you hurried after him, muttering a ‘nice to meet you’ at Veetch and Hexx as you breezed past them.

As Mayday led you round the base, pointing out your quarters, the tiny mess hall, the cargo hold where all the Empire’s precious supplies were kept, you couldn’t help but wonder where the Empire had sent you to. It seemed this little depot was located in the back of beyond, the ass-crack of nowhere. What had happened to the rest of the clones under Mayday?

“So, what got you stuck on this ice-ball of a planet?” Mayday wondered, leading you further into the base.

“I found some things that I shouldn’t have and started asking questions. Turns out the Empire doesn’t like that, so I’ve been sent here as punishment” you explained, taking in how cold and bare everything was. It was just miserable, you didn’t know how the clones could have kept going for this long. “And this is worse than I had expected. Guess I really pissed them off” you mumbled, rubbing your gloved hands up and down your arms. Even through your winter coat, you still felt frozen.

Mayday snorted, turning to glance at you. “Yeah, kid. Seems like you weren’t the only one. What did you find out?” he asked, waiting for you to catch up with his large strides.

“I was an engineer for the GAR before… anyway, I was just looking through some old documents and found an order requisition for some Venators. Nothing too worrying, right? But they were ordered years before the Clone Wars started, and then I started asking why. Someone must have noticed and I quickly got a court martial and banished from Coruscant. Now I’m here, on a planet that’s colder than Hoth’s” you revealed, as he led you to the communication room.

“It’s not the first time I’ve heard something like that. So are you a rebel then? Heard they’ve been recruiting people to fight against the Empire” he inquired, eyes running up and down you. You didn’t look particularly threatening, but it was best to be prepared.

“No!” you snorted, shaking your head. “I was just a normal person trying to get by when I found the requisition forms. I’m more curious than rebellious. Don’t worry, Mayday, I won’t be causing you any rebellions or mutinies while I’m stuck here” you smirked, amused at his question. Did he really think you were a spy or something? You were an engineer, you had no idea about any rebellions or how to get in contact with then. Actually, you probably should have, or at least leaked the documentation to the public. Even if it probably would have meant your death. But at least you were still alive, stuck on this frozen planet helping to guard some Imperial supplies.

Mayday stopped, shoulders squaring as he turned to face you fully. “It’s Commander. I understand you’ve been through an ordeal, but this is still a military facility. I expect you to respect that and me, is that clear?” he said, voice firm and steady.

Blinking up at him, you nodded. That certainly wasn’t what you were expecting when you had met Mayday. He seemed very relaxed and calm for a Commander. His stern gaze and deep voice caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach at the casual way he took control of the conversation. You hoped it wouldn’t be like that every time he spoke to you.

Sure, the clones were all handsome and pretty, but Mayday especially looked very rugged and handsome. His long hair and unkept beard had you wondering just how it would feel against the sensitive skin of your neck or between the softness of your thighs. Kriff! You couldn’t be having these thoughts, what if he could tell what you were thinking? Looking up at him, you noticed he hadn’t moved when you answered him.

Mayday raised an eyebrow at you, wanting more from you.

“Yes, Commander” you murmured, feeling your body tingle at that word. Oh no! You wouldn’t be using that word if every time it caused this sort of reaction.

“Good, come on civvie, let’s show you the control room. It’s how you’ll keep an eye on the defences across the sectors. We’ve needed a good engineer around here for a while, so be prepared to be kept on your toes, civvie!” he warned you, lips quirking to send you an amused look. There would be no shortage of hard work around the base. Everything was broken or nearly broken. He hoped you were ready for the challenge.

From that day forward, you had been kept on your toes, just like the rest of the clones. Your early starts would consist of you having some form of breakfast before heading out to monitor the controls and the security system. Every day at least one of the fences broke down or malfunctioned. So everyday you had to repair them as best as you could. There was very little supplies that you could use to help improve the security of the base, so you tended to use whatever was lying around to help you fix things. You’d even asked Mayday if you could take some panels of the walls to help insulate some of the wiring you had used in Sector 1.

While the work was hard, you still because firm friends with Hexx and Veetch, enjoying their witty humour and the way they tried to brighten your day. Your friendship with Mayday had also developed, and most days you enjoyed teasing and poking at him. He didn’t seem to mind, taking it in his stride and giving as good as he got. Sometimes, after coming back from patrol, you made him some hot caf, pressing it into his hands and assuring him he was doing a good job.

And Mayday enjoys all of this, every word and caring gesture that you bestow on him or his brothers. He could see how caring and kind you would have been back on Coruscant, how you would have looked after your family and friends, been the person they needed you to be. You bring so much life to this isolated planet, that it’s like a breath of fresh air, for a moment he could almost forget how lonely and miserable it had been as his men, his brothers, dwindled down to 2.

But there was one thing that surely got on his nerves. Your inability to call him by his rank. Every time you opened your mouth to talk to him or show him a report, it was always Mayday. No matter how many times he corrected you or set you extra tasks to do as punishment, you always called him by his chosen name, rather than his rank.

Honestly, if any of his brothers had tried this little bout of insubordination, then he would have had them running laps around the base. A sure fine way to keeping warm. And although his brothers were too well trained to forget such things like rank, he knew he let you off a lot lighter than he would any of them.

“Mayday” you called, holding the datapad that you had to give him tightly in your hand.

From where you were standing, you saw his back stiffen and straighten up. Hexx seemed just as confused as he cocked his helmeted head at you before looking at his Commander.

“Mayday, I have the report you wanted about the defences on Sector 3. They seem to be holding out most of the time, but in the last month, they’ve been a bit spotty. Working only 81% of the time” you reported to him, handing him the datapad.

Even though he was wearing his bucket, you knew that you were riling him up. As he gripped the datapad firmly, his movements stiff and precise as he took it off you, the thought of his face scrunched up into an annoyed scowl had you amused. Flashing a grin and a nod at both of them, you spun around and headed back to your position.

“Sir?” Hexx asked, looking between his Commander and the civvie who was walking away from them.

“It’s a civvie thing, I’ll handle it later” Mayday excused, shaking his head. “We were talking about the droid maintenance” he prompted his vod, half listening to the conversation, the other half planning on how he would get you back.

As you were busy with fixing and insulating a few wires in the cargo hold, a heavily armoured body plopped down beside you. Ignoring them for now, you tried to join the two broken pieces together, but you yelped as a sharp zap landed on your fingertips.

A muffled laugh came from beside you, and you turned to glare at Mayday. “What do you want?” you demanded, sucking your fingertips in the hopes of getting rid of the pain.

“That’s one way to stay warm I suppose” he remarked, tugging off his bucket and placing it beside him. He took your hand in his, examining the burnt patches of skin on your fingers. “You realise you’ll be loosing feeling in your fingers if you keep getting zapped all the time” he remarked, placing your cold fingers on his armour.

It was immediately soothing, and you grumbled because you didn’t want him to think he had won. But it did feel nice to have your fingers cooled by his armour and it was helping with the pain. “Hazard of the job, I’m afraid” you murmured, shrugging slightly as you looked back at the wires. Maybe if you could solder them together, they would still work. But you had to get this fixed, otherwise the sensors would never work again.

“Can I borrow your gloves?” you requested, looking back at him.

Mayday shot you a surprised look, dropping your hand against his armour. “What? Just so you can burn holes into them? We don’t get supply requisitions for armour and stuff you know” he drawled, but was still stripping off his gloves to pass them to you.

“Thanks, I just need them so I can reconnect these wires. And I’m not going to burn them!” you mumbled, slipping them onto your hands. They were a lot bigger than you had expected, and you tugged them up as far as you could go. But there were still too big and they flopped around your fingers. Oh well, they would have to do.

Mayday hid his snort behind his hand as he watched how adorable you looked in his gloves. Carefully keeping an eye on you in case you got hurt again, he relaxed back into the wall behind him. He liked watching you work, the way your attention zeroed in on the problem. The cute little way your brow scrunched up when something didn’t go right or you had to think of another quick fix. A few strands of your hair was hanging into your face, falling loose from the bun you had shoved your hair into. It softened your features, even if you were concentrating on reconnecting the wires.

“Pass me that tool next to your knee, will you?”

Mayday blinked, looking around him at the array of tools laying by him. He picked the closest one to his knee up and handed it to you.

As you brought it up to the wires, you couldn’t help but scowl and thrust it back into his chest. “No, not that one, May! Your other knee!” you snapped, holding your hand out ready.

He huffed, as he always did when you called him by his name instead of rank. Looking down, he did see a tool under his leg, covered by his armour plate. “Not my fault I couldn’t feel it under all this armour” he retorted, passing it over to you.

“Yeah, bloody things are massive. I don’t know how you can carry all that around with you” you said, glancing at him briefly before returning back to your work.

“Discipline. Something you’ve never heard of” he remarked dryly, shaking his head. You wouldn’t have lasted 5 minutes in ARC training.

Snorting, you couldn’t help but agree. Although you had been part of the GAR, discipline had never really been your thing. You were more into the freedom of making your own choices. A luxury you knew you had, especially when compared to the clones. They had little choice to fight in the war, and even less of a choice with the Empire. It was no wonder that Mayday clung to discipline and respect, when it was all that he knew during his time in the GAR. It probably gave him a lost of comfort.

“So, you didn’t answer my question. What has you annoying me while I’m trying to work?” you said, biting your lip as you used the tool in your hand to connect the wires together.

“As much as I enjoy your company, I need you to head to the sensors on the Eastern side. Something isn’t working right, the readings are going haywire. I’ll send Veetch with you to keep an eye out while you work” Mayday instructed, bringing up a map of the compound and pointing out which sensor was playing up.

Sighing heavily, you couldn’t help but agree to go. “Fine, it’ll probably be a fuse. I’ll head out as soon as I finish this” you grumbled, dreading going out there again. You’d fixed one just this morning and had only just gotten some semblance of warmth back into you. God you hated this planet.

Mayday grunted as he pushed himself up, patting your knee on the way. “Good girl!” he murmured, voice low and tired as he ran a hand through his long hair, “I’ll have Veetch meet you outside.”

Instantly heat rushed through your body and you blinked in surprise at your reaction to his words. They curled around your body like heated wisps, skimming over your arms, your middle and down your legs. The apex of your thighs felt damp and you shook yourself at the thought of him calling you that in very different circumstances.

“MAYDAY!” you screamed, rushing through the compound as you clutched the datapad in your hand. Hexx who was at the other end of the corridor jumped, hands briefly reaching for a blaster before he noticed it was you.

“Everything alright, vod’ika?” he asked, eyes widening at the fury that was written all over your face.

“Where is that complete di’kut that you call Commander?” you demanded, crossing your arms over your chest as you came to a halt in front of him. Anger curled in your stomach at the message you had received off the Empire. Another 6 months on this planet before there was to be any more communication from them. How could this be right? How could you and the clones just be left here on this ice ball with sub-standard supplies and raiders picking you off one by one? How had Mayday just taken all of these orders and been okay with them?

“Technically you should be calling him Commander too” Hexx reminded, shaking his head as he picked up his own datapad to check the diagnostics on the droid.

“Now is not the time, Hexx!” you growled, fist tightening around the datapad and feeling your jaw tighten even more. You’d get a serious jaw ache later but you couldn’t help it, you felt furious at the Empire.

“Fine, fine” he huffed, before nodding his head to the way behind him. “Last time I saw him, he was getting some caf from the mess hall” Hexx informed you, knowing that there would no doubt be an argument about whatever it is that had gotten you so worked up. Best if he and Veetch was to avoid the area for a while.

“Thank you, Hexx” you murmured, following the long corridor down to the mess hall where you hoped you would find Mayday.

Storming in, you pushed the door open so strongly that it bounced off the wall and nearly hit you in the face as it swung back. However, you were too angry to care as you spotted Mayday sitting along at one of the tables, a cup of steaming caf in his hand. From where you were, you could see him let out a heavy sigh and look into the dark contents of his cup.

“Have you seen the latest communication from the Empire?” you demanded, slamming the datapad down on the table in front of him. The metal rattled slightly with the force but you both ignored it.

“I have.”

“How can you be so calm about this? They’re leaving us for another 6 months, Mayday! Another 6 months where we’re fighting on our own, raiders trying to kill us and for what? Some supplies that we’re not even meant to know about?” you snarled, leaning over the table in front of him, staring into his dark, chocolate eyes.

There was silence between you for a moment, only the soft humming of the caf machine and the preservator being heard in the charged silence.

“Mayday! Say something!” you begged, unable to take how quiet the room was and how he just stared at you. His eyes looked sad, betraying his emotionless face.

“What do you want me to say?” he sighed, taking a sip of his caf and refusing to look away from you.

“I-I don’t know! But do something, say something! This is ridiculous! We’re going to die here, Mayday. The Empire doesn’t give a shit about us. Be angry! Be furious and ready to fight for your men!” you shouted, banging your hand down on the table.

His eyes sharpened on you and his face pulled into a displeased scowl at your words. He stared you down, letting you take in your own words. He knew the moment he recognised what you had said, because your eyes widened in shock and your mouth fell open to apologise but he beat you to it.

“I have fought for my men every single day we’ve been left on this rock! I am trying to protect the ones that are still alive” Mayday reminded sharply, straightening his back and shoulders. “You’re not the only one who is angry, but I don’t have the freedom to choose to scream and shout because I don’t agree with the orders which I’m given” Mayday rebuked, before sliding the datapad back over to you.

“I’m sorry Mayday, I know you’re just looking after Hexx and Veetch while following orders, it’s just… why are we doing this? What’s in those crates? Maybe we should take a look, they might have things that could help” you apologised, sitting down in front of him and taking back your datapad as you made your suggestion.

Mayday growled out your name in warning.

“Maybe I should have gone to the rebels” you muttered, running a hand through your hair.

“I thought you were more curious than rebellious” Mayday stated, his warm hand reaching out to lay it over yours. Your fingers entwined and he gave them a gentle squeeze.

“Hmm, guess I lied Mayday. I am a little rebellious” you grinned, enjoying the feel of his warm, calloused hand surrounding your small one and giving you comfort. “Maybe I should start a mutiny, you know, that way the Empire would have to come to get us” you teased, eyes almost closing at the feel of his thumb stroking soothing sweeps into your hand.

Mayday let out a long suffering sigh and shook his head. “I will lock you in your room if I have to!” he warned, lips twitching into a smile behind his beard.

“I’m teasing Mayday, you need to loosen up” you suggested, resting your other hand over the back of his, entrapping his hand in between yours.

“Commander!” he corrected, shaking his head as another conversation had been had without you respecting his title once more.

“Whatever. Either way, you need to relax a little” you teased, pulling away so he could grab onto his cup of caf. It would soon go cold in this weather.

“I don’t think I’ll be getting any time to relax with you near” he remarked, eyes lighting up at the way you laughed at his words. “Now go, I want to enjoy my caf in peace” Mayday ordered, nodding back to the door you came in.

“Alright, I’m going, I’m going” you assured, sending him a soft smile before heading back out to attend to your own duties.

The thought about what was in those crates didn’t leave your head. What was so important that you and your clones had to risk dying for? So the next night, you checked to see who was on watch, noticing Hexx has scheduled to be in the control room keeping an eye on things.

Sneaking through the corridors at night was not something you would recommend. What little heat you had during the day was gone. The ice ball was well below freezing on a night, and the walk to the cargo hold felt like you were walking barefoot in the snow. You were wrapped up warm, and you moved as quietly and as carefully as you could, not wanting to risk waking anyone up or setting off the alarms.

You managed to get into the hold without the alarms going off as you punched in your code, glad that it was working even on a night cycle. There was a number of crates stacked around the room, and you managed to lift one off and set it down on the floor. Whatever was in the boxes were obviously important to the Empire, perhaps you could find a way to hold them to ransom until you could get off this horrible planet.

It was a fools dream, no doubt you’d be put out of commission as soon as you tried it. But your curious nature wouldn’t be sated until you found out what exactly you were guarding. Kneeling down in front of the box, you typed in the opening sequence to get the boxes unlocked. The seal hissed out and you grinned, ready to finally see what was inside.

Just as it lifted away so you could open the lid, a hand slammed down on the top, sealing it shut once more.

Gasping, you looked up into the hard, stormy eyes of Mayday. He was leaning over the box, keeping it closed while glaring down at you. He must have been waiting in the shadows when you first came in, not expecting to see anybody inside. Mayday must have known that you would try something like this, knew you wouldn’t be able to help yourself and have to have a look.

“Mayday… I can, I can explain!” you stuttered, mind going empty at the way he was looking at you sternly. The dark gaze was pinning you to the floor, and you couldn’t help but want to never move again at the way he had you in his cross hairs.

“You need a very good explanation for this, sweetheart” he growled, looking away from you only long enough to lift the box up and put it away. He made it look so effortless, like it weighed nothing.

“I do, I do! I promise, Mayday – I just” you stammered, trying to think of words that would help your case.

“Commander” Mayday automatically corrected, interrupting your thoughts.

“I just want to see what was in there. I thought it could help us, maybe fight against the raiders or make being here a bit more comfortable” you explained, biting your lip as he stared at you, still not convinced or impressed that he had caught you sneaking around and disobeying his orders.

“We have our orders, and we’ll follow them until the mission is completed. I know I told you to stay away from these supplies, but you disobeyed me. You disregarded everything I said to you” he said, voice as hard and as cold as the ice outside. He reached down to pull you up, his grip tight on your bicep as you straightened up in front of him.

“I know, I’m sorry Mayday” you murmured, ducking your head and feeling embarrassed at being caught.

“It’s Commander, and no you’re not” Mayday rebuked sharply, making you gasp and want to hide from his gaze. Sighing heavily, he shook his head and looked down at you. “I’m revoking your access to this room unless either me or one of the boys are with you. You’re going straight to your quarters and you won’t leave until I collect you tomorrow morning. Is that clear?” he ordered, bringing your chin up with one finger underneath it so you looked into his eyes.

“Yes” you mumbled, heart feeling heavy at the way that your plan didn’t go quite as you hoped it would. And to top it all off, Mayday was furious with you. He was practically confining you to your quarters until he was ready to talk to you. It made you feel like a child again, sent to your room once you had been naughty.

“Yes, what?” he demanded, stepping closer to you.

“Yes Commander” you grumbled out, trying to keep the annoyance out of your voice. From his look, it didn’t really work but he let you go, direction you out of the cargo hold.

Mayday pressed against your back, you could feel the heat through your warm clothes. It was soothing as well as dis-concerting, reminding you that he was practically marching you to bed. A hand was sprawled across your back, guiding you along as he kept totally silent. It was making you feel worse about the situation. You hadn’t meant to upset Mayday at all, but now he was disappointed in you, a fate worse than death.

As you reached the door, he stood in front of you with crossed arms, looking down at you with a stern expression. “Now stay in here until I pick you up tomorrow morning. We are having a serious discussion about what is appropriate and inappropriate behaviour in this compound. I’m very disappointed in you, civvie” he sighed.

Somehow that made you feel even worse but you knew you had crossed the line. You wouldn’t be surprised if he just threw you out and let you fend for yourself in the savage environment beyond the base. Or told the Empire that you were another one of the losses that had struck the base.

Reaching out for his hand, you gave a heavy sigh and squeezed it slightly. “I’m really sorry, Mayday” you apologised, wanting, no – needing him to believe you.

“I know, we’ll talk more in the morning. Get some rest” Mayday grumbled, thumb stroking your hand before he pulled away. He watched you head into your quarters and the door shut behind you. With a heavy sigh, he returned to his own quarters, wondering what he was going to do with you?

The next morning, you woke up with a plan. A plan to solve everything between you and Mayday and hopefully lessen whatever punishment that was heading your way. You would run a few diagnostics on the equipment, then head to the mess and make him a caf, ready for him to start his day. That way he wouldn’t have to worry about getting one himself and his morning could be a little quieter. So, as you crept out of your room, you decided that was what you were going to do.

There was a storm raging outside, the wind was howling outside and the depot was colder than the core of Hoth. It was the worst storm you had ever seen. Even the raiders weren’t going to brave the weather to come out and attach the depot. You were walking to the control room to start your plan when suddenly you were grabbed and pulled into a room just off the hall.

Yelping, you kicked behind you, hearing a pained grunt from behind you and the hand on your arm let you go. Spinning around, you raised your fist, ready to attack whoever had grabbed you but you faltered when you met the annoyed look of the handsome Commander.

“Fancy seeing you here” he remarked, crossing his arms as he gave you a hard stare.

“I was just going to check on the systems and then I was going to bring you some caf. I promise, I wasn’t doing anything wrong” you explained, straightening your jacket as you met his eyes.

Mayday hummed, looking you over before seemingly deciding what was going to happen to you. “I wanted this conversation in the comfort of my office, but it seems I should be used to you messing up my plans. So we’ll do this here” Mayday drawled, leaning against the wall as he took you in.

“We can always go to your office” you suggested, taking a seat on the table. It would be a lot more comfortable than this conference room that was for sure.

“No, no” he denied, stepping closer to you.

Your heart began to race at the look he was shooting you, eyes never leaving yours as you felt trapped under his gaze. Swallowing slightly, you nodded, preparing yourself for this talk. You had never been locked in the room with Mayday like this, never with such a heavy presence between you. It was making it a little hard to think as he continued to stare at you. Biting back your nerves and the butterflies starting to flutter in your stomach, you took the plunge and broke the silence.

“Look Mayday, I really am sorry for what happened last night. I guess I just wanted to know what this was all for” you started, trying to put your thoughts into words. “I hoped that there was something in those boxes that we could use for ourselves. I mean, depending on what they were, we could have just put them back. I just wanted to help us” you admitted, shaking your head. You had been so close, it was still possible that whatever was in those crates could help you for the extra 6 months you were forced to stay here.

He hummed, brow furrowed as he stepped closer, your knees practically touching his thighs. “But you went against my orders” he reminded, raising a dark, thick eyebrow at you. His hands landed on his hips, really giving him the look of a disappointed parent, ready to rebuke you.

“I know, and it was wrong, and I’ll never do it again” you assured, grimacing at the scoff that had Mayday rolling his eyes. “But don’t you wonder about what could be so important that they station you out here but haven’t returned for the supplies? What are they hiding?” you shook your head, thoughts beginning to whir at all the possibilities that could be in the crates.

“I wonder why you have such a problem with those in authority” Mayday retorted, cutting through your thoughts and making you stare at him.

“What? I don’t have a problem with authority!” you gasped, shaking your head in confusion. Had he hit his head against something? Was he suffering from hypothermia?

You had never had a problem with authority, normally getting on quite well with them. The only problem you had was that you were curious. And that sometimes got you into trouble. But you weren’t rebellious or anything like that, you just wanted to know the reason why? What? How? When? Since when had it been such a problem asking questions.

“Oh, I think you do cyare” he chuckled, stepping closer to you and spreading your legs wider to fit his frame.

You swallowed against the lump in your throat, mouth suddenly gone awfully dry, eyes blinking up at him as your hands clenched into fists at your sides. Mayday was so close, and his body had forced your legs wider than you had expected. Heat was flaring through you and you tried hard to focus on him and what he was saying.

“I think you’ve got a real problem” he murmured, voice dropping to a low husk. His fingers caught your chin, tilting your head up to look at him in the eye. “You have an inability to listen, to follow instructions. You’re rude and disrespectful to me-” he listed.

“Mayday!”

“Ah!” he clicked his tongue and shook his head at your interruption, fingers briefly tightening on your chin slightly before he let you go. “You refuse to call me by my rank. It’s Commander, my men seem more than capable of remembering that, but you seem to forget after every correction” he pointed out.

Oh, you didn’t think he would notice that. The very visceral reaction you got from calling him Commander left you feeling all hot and bothered. You couldn’t go around acting like that when you had a job to do, so Mayday was the only thing you could call him.

His hands ran up your thighs, stopping briefly at the small hitch of your breath. He waited for you to nod, to give him permission to carry on touching you.

With a shaky nod, you watched as his eyes darkened even further as his hands slid up higher to play with the waistband of your leggings. You bit your lip as you felt his gloved fingers dip underneath the material.

“So cyare, I think you do have a problem with authority. Especially my authority” he breathed, dipping his head down so that his lips were hovering over yours.

Unable to help it, your lips twitched into a smirk as you pressed yourself against his armoured front. “What are you going to do about it, Commander?” you teased, your hand coming to slide it up the arm that he was caging you in with. Wrapping your arm around his shoulder, you thread your fingers through his long strands and gave him a playful smirk.

The way his rank fell from your lips sounded mocking, even when he was pressed against you. Oh, he would show you! It seemed you needed a little help to remember to be respectful to your superior officers.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he chuckled, flashing you a toothy smile that had you breathless. It made him look younger and so much happier than his usual stressed self. “Let me show you” he growled, hand gripping your jacket tightly before he pulled you away from the table, twisting you around and pushing you into the wall behind him.

Although the push wasn’t rough by any means, your breath left you as you stared at Mayday in a mix of arousal and surprise. The casual way he had moved you, the way he was pressing you against the wall, his thick, large body covering you and the eager look in his eyes had you breathless. You blinked up at him, a small smile beginning to form on your face.

However, Mayday wasted no time, finally pressing his lips to yours. He had wanted to do this for so long. Every time you had called him by his name, it had driven him slightly more mad. Every interaction with you kept him on his toes, he had taken to having his downtime with you. It would be a lie to say he had never imagined shutting you up like this, with his lips pressed to yours, swallowing your small noises after refusing to call him by his title.

With a flick of his tongue against the seam of your mouth, you felt your face heat up more as you parted your lips for him. As you tasted the caf on his tongue, you pushed yourself against him, hands securing around his neck to make sure he didn’t move away from you.

When you pulled away, you felt like your heart was in your throat, even if there was an echoing thrum between your legs. “Mayday” you breathed, taking in his slightly parted lips and flushed cheeks.

He leaned forward, nipping at your bottom lip before pulling away. “Commander” he corrected once more.

“What are we doing?” you gasped, as one of his armoured thighs slid in between your legs. It wasn’t pressing against you yet, but you could just imagine how his thigh armour would feel against you.

“Whatever you’re comfortable with, sweetheart” he assured, hands sliding to your waist to steady you against him.

He was leaving this down to you. You knew that if you decided then and there that you didn’t want to pursue this, then Mayday would take a step back and let things go back to normal. But you weren’t sure you wanted that. You’d have to be blind, deaf and dumb to not realise how handsome and pretty Mayday was. Throughout your time on base, he had become your closest friend. He always looked out for you, made you laugh when you were down, joined in on your teasing of his brothers. Whenever you had felt lost and alone, he had always been there to comfort you and cheer you up. Mayday may get on your nerves and you were sure you frustrated him, but you couldn’t deny that you wanted him, and it looked like he returned those feelings.

“Yeah… yeah I’m good with this” you nodded, tugging him down to you so you could kiss him once more. He chuckled against your lips, but you didn’t mind, especially when his hands tightened their grip on your hips.

Pulling away, he spread kisses from the corner of your lips, across your cheeks and your jaw before working his way down to your neck. “Good girl” he growled, voice unable to hide just how happy he was to have you here against him. Pressing kisses and nips along your throat, he couldn’t help but let out a groan. “Because you’re not leaving here until you remember to call me Commander” he warned, hands skimming down your sides.

Letting out a soft moan, you tilted your head to the side, letting him have more room to suck dark bruises and marks along your neck. That sounded wonderful. You didn’t expect to leave the conference room anytime soon then.

You ran your fingers through his long dark curls, twisting your hands into his hair as his lips ventured along the hollow of your neck before sinking lower, as he pushed your jacket to the side, exposing more of you to his attentive mouth.

“Can I take this off?” he asked, nose skimming up your throat before pulling away to tug on the zip of your jacket.

“Yes, you can Mayday. In fact, I want it gone” you chuckled, pulling down the zip yourself. The warmth pressed against you however, pulled away, leaving you cold and wanting.

Frowning, you looked up at Mayday, confused at why he had moved away from you.

“Yes, what?” he prompted you, sounding just like he had last night.

Gaping at him, you took a shaky breath in, feeling the way your core pulsed at the thought of what you were going to call him.

“Yes, Commander” you breathed, about to step forward to follow him but he quickly slotted your lips together once more, pinning you back against the wall.

He gasped, pulling away from your mouth just far enough that he could bite into his glove and tug it off. He threw it somewhere behind him, the other one following seconds later. Eyes meeting yours once more, he cupped your face and brought you into another kiss, swallowing all your moans and soft whimpers as he continued to plunder your mouth.

Strong, warm hands slid inside your jacket, pushing it off your shoulders and letting it slide to the floor. As soon as the garment was off, Mayday curiously slipped his hands underneath the hem of your shirt. You gasped, shivering slightly at the feel of his fingers exploring across your skin, digging in slightly at your sides as he tugged you closer to him.

“Please Commander” you moaned, tugging at his chest plate. You wanted it off. You wanted to see him and feel him, just like he was feeling you.

Nodding, he gave you a small kiss before stepping away. He cursed as he had to unwrap the fabric he had wrapped around himself to keep his armour in shape and to fight off the cold. “I knew I should have just worn my blacks” he grumbled, shaking his head as he placed his chest plate to the side.

“Yeah? Planned this did you, Commander?” you grinned, smirk plastered on your face as you watched the show.

Mayday rolled his eyes at you, already unbuckling his utility belt and letting it drop to the floor with a small clatter before he worked on his stomach plate. “You wish!” he retorted, before finally managing to get it off. Before you could answer him back, he returned to you, already reaching for your shirt.

Freezing, he looked between himself and you.

“Everything okay?” you asked softly, cupping his face as he seemed to realise that there was a problem.

“We’ll freeze to death if we start stripping. I’ll have to have you naked and spread out on my bed next time, sweetheart” he frowned, thumbs brushing against your stomach.

Giggling, you couldn’t help but agree. It was freezing in here, you’d probably end up with frostbite if too much of your clothes were removed. But what warmed you more than anything was talk of there being a next time. He wanted to be with you again.

Sliding your cooler hands up and under his shirt, you smirked at the quiet yelp that Mayday let out as your fingers brushed against his nipple. It instantly hardened under your touch and you tweaked it between your fingers.

Mayday scowled, pushing your shirt up until it reached your shoulders. Ducking his head, he pressed warm, wet kisses down the valley of your breasts. Grazing his teeth against the side of your breast, his hand began to roughly squeeze and feel your breast.

Panting slightly at the feel of his rough hold of you and the way he was marking your chest, you buried your hands into Mayday’s rugged locks and pulled. The reaction was instantaneous. The moan that tumbled from his lips vibrated through your chest and you grinned, glad to have found one of his likes as well. Tugging and pulling at his hair got him going.

“Don’t look so smug” he grumbled, working his way down your stomach with open mouthed kisses and the occasional brush of his teeth against your soft flesh.

“Can’t help it Commander, you look so good on your knees for me” you sighed, eyes fluttering closed at the feel of his hands sliding around to your arse and giving each cheek a rough squeeze.

He nipped at your hip in retaliation before licking a stripe along your hemline, chuckling at the way your muscles fluttered underneath his tongue at that move.

“Careful sweetheart, you’re still meant to be learning a lesson” he growled, fingers trailing down your inner thigh, around your knee to down your calf. He stopped at the boot that was in the way and gently lifted your leg, tugging off the boot and throwing it behind him where it landed on the table with a dull thud.

“Seems you’re not a very good teacher, Mayday” you grinned, before gasping at the quick slap on your thigh. Had he just spanked you?

Chuckling at the shocked expression on your face, he reached up to tug your leggings and underwear down. “Be a good girl for me, I’d hate for you to not get your reward” he ordered, pulling them down until they reached your knees.

“Don’t bluff!” you groaned, feeling the cool air hit your skin, goosebumps rising in it’s wake. You shivered, trying to press closer to him to chase his warmth.

“Oh, who’s bluffing?” he scoffed, helping to lift your leg up so he could slide it out of one side of your leggings and underwear. His hand skimmed up and down your thigh, working heat into your skin to warn you up slightly. It was ridiculously cold at the moment. He regretted not taking you somewhere warmer.

He pressed a soothing kiss to your hip before guiding your leg over his shoulder, letting it rest on his pauldron. Sighing softly, he could smell your sweet arousal, and he couldn’t help but run his nose up and down your inner thigh. You were so beautiful, he couldn’t believe he was on his knees in front of you, ready to see if you tasted just as sweet as you smelt.

Glancing up at the apex of your thighs, he couldn’t help but groan, feeling himself twitch behind his codpiece. You were soaked, your folds glistening with your arousal. Some of it was spread along your inner thigh and he leaned forward to lick a stripe up your thigh, getting his first taste of you. Moaning, he leant his head against your hip, taking in how perfect you were.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful sweetheart, you taste perfect” he breathed, glancing up to see your flushed face staring back down at him.

“You don’t have to say that” you murmured, biting your lip. He looked amazing down there. His bearded face and long locks framed by your thighs, a hint of shine already on his lips.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m not. I’ll show you” he vowed, brushing his mouth along your other thigh.

You groaned, already knowing that you would have a few marks from his beard and just how it rubbed against your sensitive skin. Leaning further back against the wall, you took in a deep breath before it was forced out of you by Mayday’s eager press of his tongue between your folds. His soft bristles grazed against your inner thighs and you cursed, tugging and pulling at his hair.

Mayday repositioned his hands, gripping onto your arse to steady you against his face as he flicked his tongue around your entrance, drinking the sweet nectar from the source. As he drank you down, he kneaded the soft flesh in his hands, drawing moans and sighs from your lips that only made his cock twitch and press harder against his armour.

His lips closed round your clit, drawing it into his mouth and sucking on it harshly. “Fuck, Mayday!” you cried out, tugging sharply on his hair.

However, as soon as the words escaped you, Mayday pulled away, smirking at your anguish cry as he ran his hand up and down the thigh thrown over his shoulder. “You know what you have to call me if you want me to continue” he reminded, nipping at your inner thigh.

“Fuck… okay, okay” you huffed, frustration building in you, and not just because of Mayday’s talented mouth and fingers but at his continuing denial of your release. “Please, Commander. Suck my clit!” you whined, trying to pull him back to where you needed him most.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it sweetheart?” he teased, before diving back into the sweet nectar that was leaking out of your core.

“You’re… you’re… lucky you’re… so pretty” you panted, hips bucking up into his mouth, wanting to press even more against his teasing tongue and talented lips.

Mayday buried his face into your core, making you cry out and shake against him. “Thank you, sweetheart” he grinned, before collecting your slick on his fingers, covering them in it before he pressed one of his long fingers into your entrance.

“Commander!” you gasped, feeling the way your walls fluttered around the intrusion.

“Good girl” he praised you, rewarding you with withdrawing before thrusting back in.

The whimper that left you from that had you wanting to hide, but it only made Mayday flick his tongue faster over your clit, teasing the small bundle of nerves while he continued to open you up for him.

Your heart was racing, your breaths coming out in small pants as Mayday worked on your clit as his pressed a second finger inside of you, curling them and pressing up and down inside of you. It pushed every thought out of your mind apart from his name, just the feel of his fingers scissoring inside of you and his warm agile tongue drawing your clit into his mouth.

“Co-Commander” you whimpered, bucking as much as you could into his mouth. The hand that wasn’t currently torturing you with his precise movements inside your core, pressed against your lower stomach, pinning you against the wall.

It had you crying out, the feel of his fingers suddenly bigger and just… more. Heat was pooling at the base of your spine, and you could feel pleasure with every thrust and withdrawal of his fingers inside of you.

Mayday added another finger, stretching you open and he couldn’t help but groan at the feel of your slick running down his wrist. He sucked harshly on your clit before pulling away to lap it up. He didn’t leave your clit alone for long though, returning back to rub circles into the nub with his tongue. However, Mayday curled his fingers, aiming for that patch of spongy tissue against the front of your walls. He knew he found it when you let out a loud cry, clenching tightly around his fingers.

“May-Mayday please!” you begged, nails scraping along his scalp and the back of his neck as he held you still.

He hated to do it, he really didn’t want to, but the froze. Not moving at all to aid in your pleasure.

“Nooo! Please! Please! Don’t stop” you cried, writhing underneath his hands.

“Shh, I’ll give you what you want, cyare. Just tell me what I want to hear” he shushed, laying soft kisses along your stomach, enjoying the way you sounded so close to your release.

“Please, please Commander” you groaned, tears pooling in your lashes as your eyes were shut closed. Your body felt alight under his touch, every stroke and suck had lightning shoot up your spine. It was like having fire under your skin that he was pushing you maddeningly closer towards. All you wanted was to cum around his fingers and on his mouth. But he was teasing you and keeping you on the edge until you remembered to call him by his title.

“That’s it, you’re doing so well for me” he smiled, before renewing the way he dragged you along his mouth, tongue slipping in between his fingers to get more of your sweet slick on his tongue. Growling softly, he made sure to press his fingers along that spot with every thrust, twisting and curling his fingers until you were crying out once more. There was no doubt his brothers could probably hear just exactly what he was doing with you in this room but he didn’t care. He wouldn’t stop until you were shuddering underneath him.

“Gonna cum for me, sweetheart? Want your Commander to taste just how sweet you are? Want to flood his face with your juices?” he gritted out, feeling the way your muscles fluttered and clenched around his fingers at your words.

Yes, you wanted that. You wanted that so badly. You wanted to flood his face, drench his beard in your juices until it was all he could think about later. You wanted it all so badly.

The coil in your stomach was growing tighter and tighter, and you desperately forced your eyes opened and looked down, needing to see Mayday in between your legs as he ate you out. He must have felt your eyes on him because his eyes dragged up your body to meet your own, and with a particularly rough twist of his fingers against that spot and a graze of his teeth, he had you falling over the edge with little warning as you clutched onto him as tightly as you could.

“COMMANDER!” fell from your lips as you felt your legs shake as your orgasm washed through you. Every muscle in your body felt loose, you felt boneless as he continued to tease and lap at your opening, desperate to get every last drop of your release. It was pushing you quickly into the realm of oversensitivity and you whimpered, tugging him away with the hand in his hair.

Mayday relented, leaning back on his knees and sending you a soft smile.

He looked filthy, there was a bright hue on the apple of his cheeks, his eyes were slightly dazed at the taste of you, but his beard was covered in your slick. He looked so pleased with himself, and he ran soothing hands up and down your thighs as you stared at each other, breathless.

“You okay?” he asked, pressing against the mark he had left on your inner thigh with his teeth.

“Yeah… yeah… I don’t think I can stand” you mumbled, brushing away strands of your hair away from your forehead and temples.

Grinning, Mayday pushed himself up onto his feet and wrapped you into his arms. He could feel your trembling form against his, and he hoped it was from your release, rather than the cold. ��Well, I guess as I’m to blame for that, I’d best keep you up” he teased, pressing a small kiss to the corner of your lips.

You licked your lips, tasting the slight hint of your release. Resting your head against his, you shared the same breath, content to just press against each other for now. However you noticed the way his codpiece was pressed against your hip, grinding slightly against you in a way that suggested Mayday didn’t even notice he was doing it, seeking some relief from what you could imagine was his hard cock.

Humming softly, you slid your hands between you, grinding the heel of your hand against the cold plastoid. Mayday muffled a groan into your neck, as heat flared through him. He had treated you so well, you wanted to do the same to him.

As you went to sink to your knees for him, Mayday stopped you with a hand on your shoulder, shaking his head. “Sweetheart, if you take me into your mouth, this is going to be over sooner than either of us would like. And I really, really want to be inside of you” Mayday interrupted, heavily lidded dark eyes meeting your own surprised one.

“Next time?” you breathed, leaning up to lay kisses along his cheek before stopping at the corner of his lips.

“Yeah, sweetheart. We’ve got time” he assured, twisting his head to capture your lips with his.

Sighing against him, you unclipped his codpiece, letting it fall to the floor between you with a small clatter. The groan of relief that Mayday let out had you giggling. You were sure that the armour had begun to get very restrictive.

“God, they were definitely not made to contain clones’ cocks” Mayday winced, spreading his legs a little wider now that he had more space to move.

Grinning, you passed your hand over his lengths that were still hidden behind his blacks. His cock did feel like it was made out of durasteel, a wet patch formed as he was leaking from his head. Biting your lip, you looked between you, wanting to see just how beautiful he was.

As you pushed the blacks down his hips, his cock popped out, and you couldn’t help but gasp. The Commander was just slightly bigger than average but he was thick, his length disappearing into a bush of dark curls at the back of his cock. God, you couldn’t wait to feel that pressing inside of you, stretching you open.

“Fuck!” you breathed, unable to take your eyes off the angry, red head of his cock. It was leaking pre-cum, slicking his length up and pooling at the base.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” he flirted.

Although you could see the cocky smirk on his face, you heard the underlining tension underneath it. “You’re beautiful, Mayday” you assured, cupping his cheek and stroking beneath the dark circles of his eyes.

Mayday didn’t seem to know what to do with your words, so he nuzzled into your palm, pressing a kiss there and sighing softly.

“Ready? Wrap your arms around me and jump, I promise I’ll catch you” he instructed, hands sliding down your sides to cup the back of your thighs.

“I trust you” you assured, doing what he said.

“Good girl, so you can follow instructions” he drawled, “jump!”

As you used the grip on his shoulders to propel you up, he lifted you up to his waist, wrapping your legs around him and securing you against the wall. The move had you letting out a small squeak at just how strong your Commander was, but his grip on you was tight, not letting you go anywhere.

“You’re strong” you gasped, squeezing your arms around him once more.

“I won’t let you fall, cyare” he promised, leaning forward to kiss you sweetly. “Ready?” he asked quietly, reaching in between you and notching his cock at your entrance.

“I’m ready, Commander” you nodded, slightly breathless at the thought that you were going to do this. You and Mayday were going to fuck for the first time after so long of you both wanting each other. After all the times you enjoyed each other’s company and clashed with each other, it all came down to this moment.

Mayday pressed into you in one slow but cautious thrust, eyes trained on your face to read your every reaction, not wanting to hurt you. When he was bottomed out inside of you, he stilled, hand coming down to secure you against his waist. He waited for you to get used to his size, knowing it might not be what you were used to.

Whining, you gritted your teeth at the stretch, the thickness of his length pushing against your pulsating walls. It felt so right for him to be inside of you, the way you fitted around each other just proved how this was the best thing you were ever going to do.

Mayday pressed kisses along your jaw, fingers trailing to your clit to softly rub patterns along it, distracting you while you got used to him.

The touch against your clit had you jolting, and you dug your nails into his shoulders, letting out a small gasp. “I’m ready, you can move now Commander” you assured him, dragging your nose along his and nuzzling into him.

Mayday held you up as he pulled his hips back, before pushing back in with a gentle and slow thrust. He buried his head into your neck, breath shaky at the feel of your hot, wet channel fluttering around his length. It took everything in him to not cum right then and there, but he had more self control than that, he was going to make sure you enjoyed yourself and cum once more before he found his own release.

As he began to pick up a rhythm, the sharp, short jabs into you had your breath hitching with every thrust. You clung onto him, tightening your legs around his waist and drawing him closer to you. The feel of his beard brushed against your neck, and you knew there would be an interesting mark there come tomorrow, just from his beard. It seemed that Mayday was marking you up, even if he meant it or not.

“May-” you panted, arching your chest into his as you ran your hands through his hair.

“Don’t make me stop!” he grunted out, hips faltering it at the thought.

“Please don’t! Fuck, I’m sorry Commander” you gasped, clenching around him at the thought of him stopping.

Mayday let out a wounded sound, hips thrusting deeper into you as he felt you tighten around him, like you didn’t want to let go of him. He hefted you higher up the wall, able to sink into your delicious heat with long deep thrusts. He bounced you on his cock, lifting and sinking you down with every roll of his hips up into you.

Whimpering at the feel of his cock spearing into you, you dragged your nails down his back, trying to rock into him as much as you could. But in this position, there was very little you could do but to hang on and let Mayday take control of the rhythm.

“Touch yourself, sweetheart. Want to see you, ugh! Touch yourself” he hissed, hips bucking into your sharply as he felt his control start to slip. He wanted to see you fall over the edge first, to feel you clenching and tightening around his cock first.

“Commander” you managed to get out, although you weren’t sure if it was beginning to slur as he thrust up into you, dragging the head of his cock against that spot inside of you that made everything white out.

But you did as you were told, fingers slipping between you two to focus on your swollen bundle of nerves. Just the touch of your fingertips against your clit had you crying out, oversensitive from his mouth and the earlier orgasm. You felt more slick leak from you and you couldn’t help but throw your head back at the wave of pleasure that was beginning to build up inside of you.

“Oh fuck! Oh fuck, I’m close!” you cried, clinging onto his shoulders as the other hand played with your clit.

Mayday let out a growl, teeth grazing your shoulder as he began to quicken his thrusts, slamming into you as he felt his own release building.

“Please, please Commander. Let me cum” you begged, edging closer and closer to your release.

Mayday snarled, unable to believe you were asking for his permission to cum. He had never told you that you had to do that, but it sent such heat through him at the thought he could feel his balls begin to tighten and move up.

“Yes, yes sweetheart, cum for your Commander” he groaned through gritted teeth as his hips began to loose their rhythm.

With one more sweep of your fingers against your engorged clit, and the feel of Mayday driving into you with powerful thrusts, you were thrown off the edge. Your release shuddered through you, and you didn’t know if you shouted out his name or not, but Mayday continued to work you through your orgasm, prolonging it as he chased his own pleasure.

Feeling a spike of pain as you scratch at his back, Mayday let out a loud snarl at the way you called out Commander as you came. It was just what he needed as he fell over the edge, ecstasy washing through him as he unloaded his cum into your quivering channel. With a few remaining thrusts, he fell still, feeling you shuddering around him, although he wasn’t sure if it was you or him that was shaking after your powerful releases.

Slowly, Mayday sunk to the floor, keeping you wrapped around him but making sure you were buried into his chest. The pair of you caught your breaths, panting against each other as you relaxed. It was silent between you, but it wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. It was perfect, just like those moments when you were in the control room together, minding the cameras. Or when you were in the mess hall, enjoying a cup of caf together in the morning. It felt right.

“So Commander” you drawled, when you had regained enough energy to speak, and you looked up at him with a tired but pleased smile. He returned it, running a hand up and down your back as he kept you close to him. “Do I still have to call you Commander whenever we speak?” you teased, trailing your fingers up and down his chest.

“Hmm, perhaps not. Not when I’ll remember this every time you do. Might get a bit awkward for the boys” he joked, joining you as you laughed at his words.

“You’re probably right. How about we get dressed and get some caf? I’m starting to freeze here, next time we’re definitely doing this in my bedroom” you insisted, leaning forward to capture his lips.

“Yes ma’am!” he agreed, pulling away and holding you for a bit longer.

[abigailywrites]

dress. [din djarin x reader]

part three of indebted.

ao3 / ko-fi rating: t word count: 4.1k warnings: none

There’s a hole in your jacket near the elbow where one of the patches is coming loose. It’s the first day of your break, and there’s no way you’re spending your hard-earned nothing-salary on scrap fabric. So, the fabric for the patch comes from the leg of your pants. That’s fine. It’s not the first time you’ve done it. Pants that used to come down to your ankles now hit about mid-calf, that’s all.

As you’re getting ready to sew the patch on, Karga bursts into your room without knocking. “I got something for you,” he tells you.

Slowly, you look up from your work and blink. “I thought this was my day off.”

“Didn’t you hear me?” Karga questions. “I said I have something for you. It’s a gift.”

No employer has ever given you a gift before. Even if they did, you have very specific rules for what you’re meant to do with gifts: sell them immediately and put the money toward your debt. Nevertheless, you stand to follow him to the living room.

Draped across the sofa is a dress. A burgundy, knee-length thing with a deep neck, no sleeves, and a subtle golden pattern on the hem. The fabric is light but sturdy— perfect for the Nevarro climate. And there’s no doubt that it’s nicer than anything you’ve ever worn in your life. 

You look down at the patchwork jacket in your hand. Most of the patches are faded, blue variants or some kind of brown. But you can’t tell what the original color was anymore, and strings are hanging off of it where the hem has frayed and been stitched back and frayed again. It’s dusty, too. You haven’t had the chance to wash it all week. It’s not much, but it’s completely yours. It’s the only thing that’s completely yours.

“Nice, isn’t it?” Karga asks, picking the dress up off the sofa and holding it up to you.

“Sure,” you agree with a shrug.  

Karga gives you an exasperated look. “Sure?” he echoes. “It is. You should wear it next time you go to the cantina.”

“Oh,” you say. “So, it’s not a gift. It’s a work uniform.”

“Would you just put it on?”

Rolling your eyes, you snatch up the dress and drag it back to your room. It feels funny on your skin when you put it on, but it does technically fit.

Karga seems to think so anyway. He smiles when you walk out in it and says, “Ah, there we are! Give it a spin, let me see.”

You turn in a lazy, disinterested circle. “This is ridiculous,” you huff as you face him again.

“It’s only ridiculous if it doesn’t work.”

You look down at the dress and back to Karga. “What exactly is it supposed to do?”

Karga folds his arms over his chest and sighs. “Listen, I don’t know how you did it,” he sighs. “But somehow, you got Mando to change his mind. There’s something about you he must like. And if we can play that to our advantage…”

“To your advantage, you mean,” you correct him.

He uncrosses his arms and puts his hands firmly on his hips. “No, to our advantage,” he insists. “There’s a bounty I need him to take. Hardly any of my hunters have dared to go after it, and the few that have… Well, there have been unfortunate endings. I need Mando to take it, but the problem is this isn’t the kind of thing he usually goes for. Direct commission work. If you can convince him to take it, I’ll take another five percent off.”

Those few words flip a switch in your brain, and you hate it. Suddenly, something you’re terrified to even try becomes something you’re desperate to accomplish. The dress still seems excessive, but if it helps, then why not? And you still have no idea what you could have possibly said to Mando to get him to take four pucks, but you could figure it out. Over all of these thoughts echoes the constant chorus, “another year of my life, another year of my life, two whole years of my life.”

“Okay,” you agree after only a moment’s hesitation and next to no thought. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”  

In the next couple of hours, Karga hatches the beginnings of a strategy. He debates himself on the best way for you to get the job done. You interrupt him only a few times with some pertinent questions. 

 “Isn’t it going to be difficult to gauge his reaction?” you ask at one point. “Should I ask him to take his helmet off?”

This earns you a stern look from Karga. “That’s a joke, right? Tell me that’s a joke.”

It very much is not. Still, you scoff. “Oh, come on,” you say. “Of course, it’s a joke.” That’s the end of your questions for a while. 

Eventually, Karga decides that you have as much of a plan as you need for the moment. “Besides,” he says. “Mando won’t be coming back for months. We don’t have to worry about this until then.”

You don’t know anything different, so you don’t argue, figuring that anything you need to know can be learned later. But it’s time you don’t have. It’s only a month later when Karga hurries over to your usual seat at the booth. “I got a page from the shipyard master,” he tells you. “Mando’s Razor Crest is landing.”

“What?” you question.

“I know, I didn’t expect this either,” Karga says. “Just get out there, and stick to the plan.” 

“But we never finished the plan,” you remind him in a half-whisper, half-shout. “You said we wouldn’t have to worry about it for months. It’s only been one month.”

Karga isn’t hearing it. In fact, he’s practically pushing you out of the booth. “Just do whatever you did last time.”

“I don’t know what I did last time!”

“Would you just go?”

At this, you stand and smooth out the skirt of your dress. You’re still not entirely used to it. It’s been difficult to see it as anything other than a uniform. A tool. Not yours. Now is the time to put it to the test. How effective is an errand girl in a dress against a hardened warrior? It feels more absurd than ever. “Alright, fine,” you mutter as you walk away.

You make it to the shipyard as fast as you can, and the shipyard master hands you a holopad and directs you to Mando’s Razor Crest. The ramp is still up when you get there, but you’re gripping the holopad like it’s the only floating thing on a planet of ocean. But when the ramp begins to lower and you see him standing right there? That’s when you have to remind yourself not to break the thing.

When Mando sees you, he stops halfway down the ramp. The moment of silence that passes is nearly unbearable until he says, “What is this?”

You look down at yourself and back up to him, eyebrows furrowed. “Um… a dress?”

“No,” he says, continuing down the ramp until he’s standing over you. “You. What are you doing here?”

You hold the holopad closer to yourself. “Karga sent me to take inventory,” you tell him.

“He sent you to the shipyard… in a dress.”

You shrug. “It’s just an outfit.”

“It’s impractical. You look uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t my idea,” you tell him, growing frustrated. “Karga thought you might—”

“Might what?”

The way he’s staring at you, you get the impression that he already knows but wants to hear you say it anyway.  “Might…” you huff, your face going warm. “Might appreciate… it.”

“Appreciate you in it? Is that what you mean?”

You fold your arms over your chest, holding the holopad tight against you as a barrier. Maker, you wish you had your jacket. Wish you had some fabric on your arms. “Yes, I guess, that was the plan,” you answer.  “Like I said, it wasn’t my idea.”

“What does Karga want?” he questions. 

You shake your head and shrug. You could lie, but if there’s one thing you remember from the last time you negotiated with Mando, it’s that he doesn’t mind brazen honesty. “It’s some kind of direct commission bounty he wants you to pick up,” you explain. “He said it was high-dollar but not your usual gig.”

“And Karga wants you to convince me to do it?”

You tilt your head to the side, but you don’t look him in the eye… visor… whatever. “Offered me another five percent if I could. Anyway, I managed it last time, didn’t I?” 

That silences him for a moment. “Let me be clear,” he begins, finally. “I saw four good jobs, and I took them. I don’t do anything because someone begs me to.”

The way your spine goes stiff and your throat tightens is almost immediate. First, he calls you a slave, now this. On your planet, no one would have dreamed of calling— of implying—  “I’m not a beggar,” you tell him, your voice low, and your gaze snapping onto him. “Don’t call me a beggar.”

“Then what are you?”

“I already told you. I’m a servant. An indentured servant. That’s all. Not a beggar, not a slave.”

“If you’re not a slave, why not leave?” he questions. “It’s your grandfather’s debt, not yours.” 

“Because,” you tell him. “My grandfather and my father died paying it off, and I’d rather die than disrespect that. This is the custom where I’m from. It’s shameful to be indebted like this, but it’s worse not to bear it gracefully. So, you give everything you have to the one who holds your debt, and you work for them for as long as you have to. The last thing you give is the clothes on your back, and you do not try to run from it.”

It isn’t the first time you’ve had to explain this to someone, but it’s never any less tiring. A brutal reminder of all the life that has been lost in the wake of a debt you’ve carried with you as long as you can remember only ever serves to exhaust you. But it does nothing for your present self. So, you sigh and straighten your shoulders. “I’m not here to explain all this to you,” you eventually decide. “Karga’s waiting, and I’m just here to take inventory.”

That seems to be enough for Mando. He stalks away without a word.

You’re sure you just fucked up that entire encounter. It’s definitely not what Karga had in mind, anyway. But what else were you supposed to do? Just stand there and take insults from a— a walking, talking suit of armor? 

You can almost hear your father’s voice reminding you that not upsetting your employer also means not upsetting your employer’s friends. Then it’s your grandfather’s voice reminding you that there’s nothing that upsets people more than hearing about other people’s difficulties. And then, of course, it’s your own voice. “Stupid,” you whisper to yourself through gritted teeth. “Fucking stupid.”

That’s about when the actual shipyard crew to take inventory comes to take over, and that reminds you that all you were supposed to do was stand there in a dress and look pretty. And you failed at that so spectacularly you almost want to laugh. The dress was never going to work, anyway. It’s time you finished patching up your jacket.

✦✦✦

He knows exactly what Karga’s trying to do by setting you up just outside his ship. You’re supposed to be the first thing he sees. There’s no way he’s going to believe that the same girl who didn’t know how to open his profile last month is suddenly in charge of taking inventory. You’re a strategic pawn. Meant to either soften him up or break him down. What he doesn’t like to admit even to himself is that neither option is impossible. 

You’ve been on his mind lately. Most of his thoughts consist of what the hell is Karga thinking by keeping an indentured servant? But the fact that you keep showing up in his thoughts at all… The fact that your name has been stuck on repeat in his head ever since Karga said it… 

No, he knows what the hell Karga is thinking. Now that he’s seen you again, he knows exactly what’s going on. Karga isn’t stupid. Karga knows he took twice as many pucks as usual and why. And Karga’s counting on it working a second time.

He’s hyper-aware of the fact as he enters the cantina and approaches Karga’s table. The bastard is leaning back like he’s not on the edge of his seat waiting to see if his scheme paid off.

“Ah, that was fast,” Karga remarks. “Did you catch them all?”

He responds by tossing all four fobs on the table.

Karga looks over the fobs and nods. “Good, I’ll begin the offload.” 

Karga barks instructions in Huttese to someone nearby while he unclasps his rifle, sets it down on the table in front of him, and sits. Karga spends too long rifling around in his satchel until he produces payment and sets it down in front of him.

“These are Imperial credits,” he says.

“They still spend,” Karga points out.

“I don’t know if you heard, but the Empire is gone.” 

Karga leans back in his seat. “It’s all I’ve got.”

That’s all he needs to hear. He grabs up the fobs and begins to stand. 

Karga reaches for the fobs. “Save the theatrics!” he says. “Fine. I’ll… I can do Calamari Flan. But I can only pay half.”

Another of Karga’s games. Paying him what he would’ve gotten for just his two usual fobs anyway, but he's not in the mood to fight it. “Fine,” he agrees, taking the Flan. “I want my next job.” 

“Of course,” Karga agrees, reaching for the unclaimed pucks. “Hmm… I have a bail jumper. A bail jumper, another bail jumper, a wanted smuggler.”

That’s four. That’s what he’s got to start taking from now on if he wants to keep the heat of speculation off. “I’ll take them all.”

“No, hold on. There are other members of the guild, and this is all I have.”

“Why so slow?”

“It’s not slow at all, actually. Very busy. They just don’t want to pay Guild rates. They don’t mind if things get sloppy.”

He can sense where Karga is trying to lead the conversation, but he can’t avoid it. So, he grits his teeth and asks, “What’s your highest bounty?”

“Not much. Five thousand.”

“That won’t even cover fuel these days.”

To his credit, Karga doesn’t immediately jump on that. He takes a second. Hums. Raises his brows in thought. “There is one job.”

There it is. No way Karga was going to trust the entire thing to you. He’s had this orchestrated for a while now, probably even beyond what you know. “Let’s see the puck,” he decides.

“No puck. Face to face. Direct commission. Deep pocket.”

“Underworld?”

“All I know is no chain code. Do you want the chit or not?” Karga holds it up.

It’s a second before he makes up his mind and takes the chit. Holds it for a second before standing to leave. It’s a year of someone’s life, after all. Anyway, it is the highest-paying bounty.

✦✦✦

There’s enough time for you to run back to the house and grab your jacket before returning right back to the shipyard. The final piece of Karga’s grand, pointless puzzle is in place. You were the first thing Mando saw when he arrived. Now, you’re supposed to be the last thing he sees before he leaves. Karga’s purpose in this meticulous staging is still a mystery, but never let it be said you don’t follow orders. You simply refuse to twiddle your thumbs while you wait for Mando to get back.

So, you find a crate to sit on and get busy finishing up the patch that you didn’t have the chance to almost a full month ago. It feels good to have your jacket in your hands again. Patching the bulky, heavy, rough thing is doing a spectacular job of keeping your mind off of the fact that Mando is going to be back soon. Probably no more convinced than he was a couple of hours ago. Probably still pissed. 

Keep it out of your mind. Keep working on the jacket. Why stop at a patch? You could fix the hem that’s coming loose, too. 

You feel it when he enters the shipyard, and you can’t explain that at all. All you know is that the hair stands up on the back of your neck suddenly. A shiver passes through you, and when you look up, he’s walking towards you. 

There’s a new beskar pauldron on his shoulder that wouldn’t look as impressive on anyone else. It adds something that you can’t describe in words but makes you keep staring as he approaches instead of shrinking away from even looking at him.

“So, did you take the puck?” you hear the sound of your voice asking before you have time to make yourself nervous about it. 

He doesn’t answer which tells you that he doesn’t want you to know. Which you’re pretty sure means he definitely took it. 

“Well,” you sigh, going back to your hemming. “Good luck.”

He’s still standing there, and some part of you is bracing for a lecture. A warning. Some kind of confrontation dealing with the attitude you took with him a few hours ago. But his next words are so unexpected that it stops your hands from working. “I realize I offended you,” he says instead. “I apologize. That wasn’t my intention.”

That’s… surprising. There’s no face when you look up at him, of course. Just the helmet, tilted down to look back at you. But if you squint, you think you can almost make out an expression. Something genuine in the way he’s holding himself.

You blink through the shock and give him a half-hearted, close-lipped smile in return. “Hey,” you say. “You didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. I was begging. You were right.”

“No,” he says. “You were doing your job, and I was ignorant and disrespectful. It won’t happen again.”

Nothing about this encounter is what you expected. No one has ever apologized to you like this before. No one has ever felt the need. You’re just a servant, after all. Unsure how else to respond, you shake your head. “Um… it’s alright,” you tell him. “Indentured servitude where I come from… it’s like the antithesis of religion. Instead of dedicating your life to getting closer to something immaterial, you dedicate it to getting away from something material. But I know that’s not normal, and you couldn’t have known anything about it. It was an overreaction, and I’m sorry.” 

He doesn’t respond. Good. You’re not sure how you would handle a response. You’re still reeling from the fact that this is coming from the silent, stoic Mandalorian. The silence seems to be the natural thing, and it suits you fine.

“What are you doing?” 

You look down at your work and back up to him. “Fixing the hem of my jacket. It’s time I got rid of this dress. Karga kinda threw it on me.”

“He does that.”

You shrug. “Evidently.”

By all means, that should be the end of the conversation. It’s here you would absolutely expect Mando to walk away, fly off, and not speak to you again. But he doesn’t. Instead, he looks over his shoulder and back at you. Takes a step closer. “What if he couldn’t anymore?” he says.

You furrow your brows. “What do you mean?”

“You could tell me what Karga’s planning before I’m even on-planet.”

You stare at him a moment, unable to form a coherent sentence. “Why would I do that?” you eventually sputter.

“It would save you the work of convincing me to take a job.”

Good point. It takes a second of utter confusion to think of a counter. “It could also screw up my so far amazing track record that’s taken two years off my debt so far.”

“I’d compensate you.”

“Like an inside job?”

“Like an inside job.”

You drop the needle on your lap, plant your hands firmly on the edge of the crate, and lean back. “I don’t know,” you grumble. “It’s a good idea, but how would I even do it? Karga monitors my personal frequency. He’d catch on before long.”

He pauses for just a moment. Then he reaches for his utility belt, pulls out a comlink, and tosses it in your lap. “Karga can’t monitor that,” he tells you.

Slowly, you reach for the comlink and turn it over in your hand. “Holy kriff, you’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” The way he says it makes you believe he thinks you’re wasting his time with pointless questions. But in all fairness, it seems unlikely.

And yet, you can’t think of any reason to refuse. “I…” you start, trying to make something up. Karga would be pissed but after the humiliating dress debacle? That’s more of a perk, and nothing else comes to mind. “Could you do an advance?”

Mando nods and retrieves a piece of Flan. A whole piece of Flan. Two months of pay for you. Slowly, you reach for it and squish the coin between your fingers. 

“Get back to Karga,” Mando instructs you as you examine the gelatinous currency. “Contact me as soon as you know what he’s planning.”

When you look up to face him again, he’s already walking away. You have no idea what almost compels you to call after him. Gratitude, you guess. But gratitude doesn’t usually feel like your insides are being wrung out. No, that’s what fear feels like, but you’re not afraid either.

Hesitantly, you stand and start walking back to the house. Back to your room, with your jacket slung over your shoulder, the comlink you hid in the pocket making it heavy. By the time you get there, it’s dusk. From your window, you can see the shape of Mando’s Razor Crest taking off. That wringing, twisting feeling is still there. It’s taking over your whole body, making you numb in your limbs.

It doesn’t help when Karga bursts into your room without knocking… again. 

“Oh, he’s taking off, huh?” Karga asks, walking to stand next to you in front of the window.

You shrug your shoulders and wrap your arms around yourself. “He took the puck, right?” you ask him, after a while.

“He took the job,” Karga confirms. “I could give you the five percent for it, but I’m not sure if it was you that convinced him or me.”

You don’t bother arguing or even reacting. All you do is face him and pull out the piece of Flan. “I got this from Mando. I’d like it to go towards my debt, please.”

He takes the piece and examines it. “How did you get this?” he eventually questions.

“I agreed to things,” you answer, purposefully vague. You’re almost positive Karga is going to take it the entirely wrong way. Good. He doesn’t need the context.

Karga exhales slowly as he pockets the Flan. “Well, congratulations,” he says like it’s physically painful to do so. “Five percent it is.”

You exhale with the weight of another year’s worth of debt coming off of your shoulders, but you find that you’re not as light as you were the first time it happened. Once again, you fix your eyes on the Razor Crest fading from view. Once the ship is out of sight, you turn back to Karga. “What happened to the hunters who went after this thing?”

“You mean the few that actually dared?” he asks. Then he shrugs. “All killed. But I wouldn’t worry about it. If anyone’s got a shot at this thing, it’s Mando.”

“But he could die,” you point out. “I helped you convince him to go on a hunt where he could very well die.”

“What are you so worked up over? It’s not like you’re the one pulling the trigger. You did good,” Karga says as he pats your shoulder and walks past you.

You should be happy, you know that. In the brief amount of time you’ve been on Nevarro, you’ve accomplished the impossible twice. Ten percent of your debt is gone within the span of a couple of months. But that suffocating feeling you used to get when the Mandalorian was around is coming to you as he’s leaving, and the fear that it might never change is keeping you underwater.

You sigh and turn to walk back to the house. One month down. Eighteen years to go.

[alexthen3rd]

Aawww 😭💗

🎃 you have successfully made my favorite batcher crosshair 🫶

Can I please request watching the stars with cross after sneaking out of the marauder(or on Pabu whatever you think is best) thank you!

hi hi i loved this prompt so much and i really hope you enjoy!! sorry it's a little late i wanted to make sure this was as perfect as it could be <3

“What do you want?” Crosshair’s voice was gruff with sleep as you stood outside his bunk and poked your head in. “It’s the middle of the kriffing night.”

“I have something to show you.” Electing to keep your response slightly cryptic and void of more specific details, you had believed it might actually get him to go along with your plans. 

Right now though, you weren’t so sure. The look on Crosshair’s face was that of pure irritation as he spoke again. “And it couldn’t wait until morning?” 

Reaching down to grab his hand, you whispered brightly in response. “No silly! Now stop being such a stick in the mud and come on!” 

You gently tugged on his hand and the sniper actually followed, getting out of bed and leaving the other bunks behind. As the two of made your way to the roof of the Marauder, there was already a blanket laid out on the durasteel and a small basket laying on it. The ship was parked in a clearing surrounded by a dense forest on all sides, so there were no other lights than the ones in the sky.

As you sat down, Crosshair finally began to figure out what was going on. “See why it couldn’t wait until morning?” you asked softly, smiling at the way he tried to hide his amazement at the stars. “A lot better than Kamino, right?” 

“Definitely,” was his response, and he moved to sit next to you, closer than he ever had before. While the relationship you had with him was certainly moving in a direction past simple friendship (you cared about the other Batchers, but Crosshair was the only one you’d be willing to wake up in the middle of the night), things were still new. You rested your head on his shoulder as he reached down to take your hand, and even though no words were spoken about the gesture, both of you understood its significance. 

“Hey, those stars look like a tooka,” you said, pointing up to a cluster of lights in the sky. 

Crosshair laughed, a sound you did not nearly hear often enough. “What are you talking about? That clearly looks like Gonky.” 

You raised your eyebrows at him. “How?” 

“It’s so obvious.” 

“I really don’t think so.” 

“Who’s the one with the advanced vision?” 

As the rest of the batch slumbered away in the barracks below, the two of you sat there and picked out more patterns among the stars, enjoying the peace and quiet while you had it. Tomorrow, you would once again to have to worry about the war and the mission, but right now, your biggest worry was the fact that he thought a tooka constellation looked like Gonky and how much you wanted to kiss him.

[heartiella]

[aphrcdites]

the bond between a girl and their favorite fictional man is both an unstoppable force and an immovable object

[vinamari]

How it feels going to bed after reading some words

It was angst

[zg0nuwa]

i’m not switching between my hyperfixations because i’m autistic, i’m just a whore

[bethsvrse]

please PLEASE learn how to tag your fanfics. Don’t tag fluff when it’s angst, don’t tag smut when it’s fluff and please don’t tag characters that ARENT EVEN MENTIONED IN THE FIC!!!!

[teamred]

focus on me

✩‌ qimir x acolyte!reader | smut | fluff | 2.5k

SUMMARY | in which the tension finally breaks between you and your master when you train together one afternoon.

WARNINGS | smut, s*xual force choking, knee foreplay, finger sucking, f*ngering, dirty talk, piv s*x, unprotected s*x, violence (fighting and choking)

RATING | explicit

NOTES | i'm simply a girl who's fallen to the dark side for qimir!!! qimir's lowkey a softie in this, which might not be canon, but idc!!!

You stumble back with your palm soiled wet. 

Thankfully, you grounded the rest of your weight with your makeshift wooden staff. Panting, you drag yourself upward, readying yourself for what’s to come next. 

Sweat drips down your forehead as the sun begins to dip into the horizon beyond the abundance of trees and overgrowth, the heat felt by your exposed arms and through your thin sleeveless wrap top.

It's been more than two hours of training, but your master knows your limit. Pushes you until you break–and he knows you’re far from your breaking point. 

Perspiration also stains his forehead. Master Qimir wipes it away with the back of his hand, moving his hair aside too. 

Moments like these, you pride yourself in knowing his identity after years of him preserving his anonymity behind that intimidating, powerful mask. He’s gained followers over time since you've known him, but you’re his one and only acolyte. 

Your mind wanders further. Why does he choose to wear his mask in public when he can make nations fall to their knees just with a flash of his smirk? 

Said smirk is plastered on his face as he twirls his two batons between his fingers with ease. Beyond his smirk, there was also the ordeal of seeing his glistening, gorgeous arms every day and– 

Your master calls out your name playfully, “I hope you’re focusing on me.”

“You know I am, Master.” You’re not exactly lying. You inch closer, holding your staff firmly with both hands and pointing one end of it in his direction. 

He tsks and lets out of a deep chuckle. It always bothers you how his chuckles make your heart skip a beat, among the other things it does to the rest of your body.  

“You're focusing on things about me, Acolyte. Not on me directly, nor on my presence,”—he paces in a circle around you, with you tracking his every step—“If this was a real fight, you’d be dead.”

“Well, I can’t help it that my master can be so distracting!” you grit out, taking the opportunity to lunge towards him. 

Weapons clash. Loud echoes continually reverberate throughout the forest, along with your occasional grunts. 

Master Qimir’s style is aggressive and swift, always on the offense, so you’ve become accustomed to defend his moves well. He comes in with one baton towards your side, and the other towards your head. You deflect both smoothly, and without much thought, you decide to attack him. 

However, your confidence blinds you.

Too close. 

He elbows your arm and slams into your side, causing your staff to drop.  

Then, Qimir shoves you far with the Force, distancing you from your weapon, and gets close again to hook his foot around yours. Your back stings as you fall down. 

In the blink of an eye, he pins you down with both batons tightly pressed against your throat, cutting off your air supply. You struggle under him, trying your best to smack him away with your diminishing strength. 

“Breathe, think, and focus,” he calmly orders, despite the agonizing scene in front of him. 

You take a second to compose yourself, inhaling as much as you can for a second.

Suddenly, you feel his knee move up between your legs, spreading them.

And you feel him moving upwards again, but this time brushing against your core. 

Your sparring composure absolutely shatters–a gasp and small moan release, and you’re back to struggling once more. 

You assume it was a mistake, but you’re relishing in the pleasure nevertheless, even in your current state of distress. 

“Focus, my acolyte,” Master Qimir barks, and he presses the batons harder into you. “Focus!” 

Your vision begins to blur alongside the increasing pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. Gathering all your might and wanting to avoid disappointing Qimir, you breathe as much as you can and drown out everything to focus on how to get out of the situation. 

With a sliver of consciousness left, you will yourself to use the Force and seize your staff. Your fingers clutch around it and you thwack Qimir hard on the head, disorienting him for a moment. Without hesitation, throughout your excessive gasping, you skillfully maneuver yourself to switch positions. 

Now, your staff is pressed against his throat. 

“Is this better, Master?” you pant and cough with a grin, basking in your success. “Am I focused now?” 

He grants a brief nod, but you notice an unusual look in his eyes. 

It reads as a rare time he’s overly impressed, but there’s something else. 

Qimir raises his hand and gently curls it around yours, wordlessly asking you to lower your weapon. You ruffle your eyebrows, unsure why he’s letting down his guard against you during training.

“Master Qimir,” you whisper, still holding your staff to the side with a relaxed but guarded grip, “is this another test of yours?”  

He shakes his head, his touch now carefully grazing your forehead and cheeks. Your staff rolls away as your eyes flutter, savoring this foreign feeling from him–tenderness, affection, warmth. A hand softly cups your face. 

“Training’s over for today.” 

The warmth fades into familiar roughness with a sharp pull by the back of your neck downwards. 

His mouth drives into yours, each kiss igniting fire within you, sparking every inch of your body. Desire is bursting at the seams. He kneads your neck and body intently, mirroring you as you clutch onto his face and sturdy frame. 

You’d be lying to yourself if you said you had never fantasized kissing Qimir before, but this is everything you dreamed of and better.  

“Master–” you gasp sharply at the sensation of him pressing his knee up against you again. Reflexively, you writhe as your body screams for more. 

“You like this a lot…” His tone drips of arrogance. Further pressure is added and he happily inhales your moans between his teasing chuckles.   

You manage to muster the following amidst the rising pleasure, “So it was intentional before.”

“Of course.” His words are muffled as he leaves open-mouthed kisses upon the side of your neck. Your fingers dig further into his shoulder and scalp as he cups your breast. “You need to learn to push aside your desires when training.” 

“Should we stop then?” The neck kissing sears you, especially when he tugs skin between his teeth to bite and suck. “To teach me a lesson?” 

He shakes his head and removes himself from your neck, coming back up to drag your lower lip between his teeth. 

“It doesn’t mean I want to push aside my desires.” 

You catch a fleeting glimpse of his signature smirk before his lips are on yours again. Kisses become more electric as he dips his tongue into your mouth.

Hands fly erratically and grasp everywhere. His arms. Your ass. Fingers running beneath his top, feeling up his abs. His harsh grips of your thighs. 

Unexpectedly, he holds you close and flips you over; you’re back on top of him again and you can surely feel his prominent desire against yours. 

In a rush, you bunch up his thin shirt and attempt to pull it off him. He sits up with you in his lap and, with a fluid flick of his wrist, he rids you of your clothes and they are tossed to one side; his follow suit. Qimir promptly draws his nearby robes closer to be placed underneath you both, covering yourselves from the soiled forest. 

The look in his eyes is unmistakably lust-filled, completely insatiable. He wastes no time in taking your tit into his mouth, tongue flicking and lips puckering, while one hand holds you by your back and the other dips two fingers into your desire, wet and ready for him. 

You arch into him, leaning your head back and letting yourself go. Wanting to reciprocate, you reach out to stroke his cock. Relishing in the pleasure, he draws back his head, eyes closed, and leans his forehead against your chest.

The forest may be filled with the rustling of the wind against the trees and the odd bird cawing, but all you can focus on is Qimir’s throaty groans and every obscene squelch when he slides his fingers in and out of you. 

He glances up and attempts to open his eyes as much as he can to give you his full attention, despite the heavenly strokes you’re giving him. 

Eyes shine back at you with the utmost vulnerability–a sight you never see. A sight that you want to etch into your memory forever, knowing you, his Acolyte, could make your Master weak and let his guard down with just your touch. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve held myself back…”

The vulnerability dissipates as he darts his tongue against your untouched nipple. 

“...wanting to see you like this for me.” 

You two become one for a while as he plays with you like a toy he just received as a gift. He tries you out, sees what you like and what you can handle. How sensitive you are with your breasts. How many fingers you can take. How much noise you make when he thumbs your clit. 

At one point, he eventually removes his fingers from you, evidently drenched from your bliss. He holds out his fingers in front of you, and you realize what he’s suggesting.   

Obediently, like you always are with him, you open your mouth and let his fingers lay on your tongue. You wrap your mouth around them, and finally let yourself suck on them a bit, tasting yourself and treating his fingers as if it were his cock. 

When you finish, to your surprise, he sticks his fingers into his own mouth, sucking off the remnants of you. He then kisses you deeply. Tasting yourself in his mouth excites you, riles you up again and back to wanting the next step with Qimir. 

As if reading your mind, he adjusts himself to lay back down vertically, and takes you by your wrist to lead you to sit onto him. 

You hold his possession against you between your legs, teasing his tip by not quite sitting onto him fully, indulging in your control over him. However, at this point, Qimir lacks patience, so he grasps you by your waist and forces you to ease onto his length.  

The guttural moan you release could easily be heard at all ends of the forest. 

He fills you deliciously, stretches you in the sweetest way possible. Using the strength of your thighs and your hands to keep you steady, you bounce at a comfortable pace, not wanting this to end just yet.

When you find a good position to balance your weight, you allow yourself to stroke his perfect body. His chiseled abs. The solid planes of his chest. His strong forearms. The sharp jawline that you dream of kissing almost every night.

“You take my cock so well.” 

A more familiar look flashes through his eyes, one that you normally see him flash prior to slaying Jedi or when he's in a bad mood. It’s drenched with darkness and dominance, almost bordering on fury.   

You freeze, and then you feel it.

The constriction around your throat, created by the Force. He can easily kill you within seconds. He's done this only once to you, and that was when he was testing your loyalty to him years ago.

But this is different. Different than that time, and most definitely different than before with his batons. This is more controlled; the hold is mostly against the sides of your windpipe and it isn't overtly harsh. 

On top of that, your entire body is on fire, becoming wound up by this act.  

“Do you enjoy this?” he asks, tone teetering between curiosity and being threatening.

“Yes,” you mentally scream.

“I want to hear you say it.” 

“Yes,” you manage to croak. 

He raises an eyebrow. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, Master.” 

“Nu-uh,” he says. “Say my name, my beautiful acolyte.”

You're too distracted to be caught up in the fact that he called you beautiful. Instinctively, you want to ride this new sensation to lead you to another high. But you know that if you don’t reply, he might not let you get there. 

“Yes, Qimir.”

His signature smirk takes up his whole face and your pussy clenches tighter at the sight of it. He may have the upper hand with his strength around your neck, but so do you when you notice the flickering of his eyes.

“And how does my cock feel?” He tightens a little more around your throat, and you're affected further. Qimir's collectedness can only take much longer too.

“Feels good, feels so fucking good…” 

Intoxication rises from your abdomen and to all ends of your body. Your eyes begin to roll, and you're so close— 

And it's gone. The tightness on your throat stops, and so is your near-high.

You're about to complain, but Qimir quickly hauls you in close to his body. Face to face, forehead to forehead, your breaths fan one another.

“Before I let either of us finish, I want to hear you say my name as you come on my cock.”

That smirk will be the absolute death of you, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

“Can you do that for me?” 

You nod breathlessly.

Your master holds you by your waist and immediately thrusts over and over, deep and fast into you. Desperate to reach his climax, and to ensure you get to yours too.

“QimirQimirQimir–” 

And so you unravel, voice rising with every iteration. Saying his name like you’re praying for forgiveness from all ends of the universe. 

Qimir then brings his mouth to yours once more, swallowing all your pretty whimpers and allowing himself to chase his own release moments later. 

Laying on his bare chest, you glance up at him and wonder how the relationship between you will be from now on.

You couldn’t just go back to what you were before; you would now be a master and acolyte intertwined sexually at least, romantically at most. Would it not be complicated? 

But of course, Master Qimir can hear what’s going on in your mind, and he doesn’t even need the Force to do so. Being his enigmatic self, he merely answers your thoughts by speaking the Sith Code: 

“‘Peace is a lie. There is only passion…’” 

He meets your eyes, strokes your face with a small smile. Affection blooms in your chest.

“‘Through passion, I gain strength.’” 

Holds your hand against his beating chest. 

“‘Through strength, I gain power.’” 

His grip tightens. 

“‘Through power, I gain victory. And through victory, my chains are broken.’” 

Qimir leans in and kisses you deeply as the darkness of the night sky engulfs you, the sun saying its goodbye for the night.

And with that, you realize that no matter what will happen from here on out, he’ll always care for you. 

That despite all the blood, sweat, and tears shed through training, stealing, and all the killing, he’s just as loyal and devoted to you as you are to him.

[rebelscums]

Little Flower (Qimir x Padawan reader)

Rating: Fluff | Kissing | Light grinding | A pillow is thrown

Summary: You are the padawan to a masked man you had no name of. You have been by his side for years, training and mastering the arts of what he refers to as the dark side of the force. However, with Mae entering your life as his new favorite, you are beginning to question whether you belong there anymore. Something that you run to your closet fiend to talk about. Who knew confessing to Qimir about your trouble would bring a life changing moment.

“I’m not strong enough for him.” That was the first thing you said to Qirmir as you entered his shop. Borrowed shop? You didn’t care.

The defeat in your tone was enough to alert him of your dismay.

“That’s it. I’m officially useless to him. He doesn’t need me.” You blurted out all of your frustrations to the only person you have ever been able to call a friend, “All he cares about is his new acolyte Mae.”

You were both stationed here with Mae as she completed the next part of her trial which was to kill Master Torbin… Without a weapon.

“What makes you say that?” Qimir popped his head up from behind his counter.

“He’s been making me run these needless errands lately that literally anyone else in the galaxy can do.” You set a bag of powdered gold leaves onto the counter, “This took me an entire day to find and when I go back to the spot I left him, he was gone! Gone! Didn’t tell me where either.” You said frustratingly, “So I figured you might know what to do with this.”

Qimir took the bag and peered inside, a please look on his face as he hummed, “Actually I do. It’s the leaves I need to make a poison Mae requested.”

“Of course it is.” You rolled your eyes at the mention of her name.

Mae seemed to be taking the eyes of your master and Qimir lately. Something that made your eyes turn green with the overpowering feeling of jealousy… Of being abandoned.

“Look, I love Mae and she has become very dear to me, but… I was here first.” You felt like a child for saying that, “I know that sounds selfish, but it feels like he just tossed me aside for a better version.” You looked up at Qimir showing him the hurt and betrayal in your eyes before looking away to try and suppress your feelings, “And maybe… Maybe she is better than me… Maybe I should just take my loss and go.” You spoke in a near whisper, your throat tightening at the thought.

“No!” The way he quickly voiced his answer had you looking up at him waiting for him to continue, “You are strong with the force and an extremely skilled assassin.” He shook his head, “You don’t have to leave.”

You sighed and moved past him and the counter, “But what if he wants me to leave Qi? You don’t understand. It’s like he doesn’t even see me or the power I possess. All he ever says to me is that I’m not ready to become his acolyte and that I need to help Mae ascend yet…” You slumped into the cot that he called a bed with a huff, “I’m older than she is! I’ve been with him longer might I add. I’ve never questioned him, I’ve followed him loyally and this is what I am granted with? To be a baby sitter?”

“One useful skill may come out of that job.” He noted and you missed the blush in his face at whatever he was thinking about…

“And what might that be?” You muttered tiredly as you stared up at the ceiling contemplating your life and how you could just be better.

“You would make a good mother?” Qimir shrugged his shoulders as he tried to had the small smirk on his lips.

You launched one of the pillows on the bed the moment those words left his mouth. It was going straight for his head to which he surprisingly dodged with ease, but that didn’t stop the surprised look appear on his face as he raised his hands in surrender.

“Not funny.” You grumbled and crossed your arms, turning to face the wall with a pout.

“Okay okay. I’m sorry.” Qimir said as he walked over to where you were. When you didn’t turn to face him, he decided to take a seat on the edge of the bed beside you. There was a thoughtful look on his face before he spoke again, “Maybe… Maybe he is looking out for you.”

That got your attention. You sat up, your shoulders brushing against his as you peered up at him with confusion, “What do you mean?”

A nervous blush creeped up his face as you leaned closer to him, “Well I mean… I…” He trailed off nervously, “I just mean that maybe you just might be more important to him than you realize. He could be looking after you to take on a more important role.”

“What’s more important than being his acolyte?” You huffed in confusion as you look towards your fiddling hands, “I remember what he said to me all those years ago when we first met. He promised he would make me a powerful force weirder and that I would stand by his side as his acolyte and now… Now I’m starting to question if he really meant it.”

Qimir’s hand found yours and gave it a comforting squeeze, “He meant it and… You are powerful. Just as you are brave and unlawfully kind.” He assured and it was your turn to blush.

It seemed like he always knew what to say to you in ways that made your heart flutter and your cheeks burn, “Qi…” You breathed out as you glanced at his lips.

He was quick to copy your movements leaning in closer to you as he did so, “Maybe he sees too much good in you to turn you into something your not.” He whispered, his breath caressing your skin.

“You seem to know a lot about what he may think.” You whispered, suddenly lost in his darkening gaze, “Why is that?”

“What can I say? I’m good at reading people.” He smirked slightly as he looked down at your lips again, “I’m also extremely possessive over what I care about. Knowing him means knowing you.”

“Okay…” You hummed accepting his answer, “Alright then mister possessive, what am I thinking about right now?” You mused, a mischievous glint sparkling in your eyes.

It was something the Qimir couldn’t get enough of. It was your playfulness towards him that was like a breath of fresh air against the darkness he was met with daily.

“I would say…” His speech was slow as he traced your face with his eyes, “That you really want to kiss me.” He teased lowly. There was a small grin on his face in knowing that he was right.

He was always right.

“Do I now?” You didn’t try to deny it as you leaned in closer to him, “And you? What do you want to do?”

A low noise emanated from his throat, almost like a pleading sound as his lips brushed against yours, “I want to kiss you...” He said in a way that made your heart yearn for him.

“Then what are you waiting for? Kiss me.” You breathed out, your heart racing wildly in excitement.

That was all he needed to hear as he leaned down to press his lips against yours. Your eyes fluttered closed at the soft sensation in the way that he kissed you. It was delicate and gentle as if he was afraid to push you too far, but the way your arms circled around his neck, pulling him closer to you, was all he needed to know.

He felt like light between your fingertips as you ran your hands through his hair and he was gentle with his movements in guiding you back against the bed. “Beautiful…” He breathed out, fitting himself snugly between your legs.

“Qi…” You breathed his name against his lips, arching your back as he tugged your bottom lips between his teeth. He held himself back, letting go of your lip to really look at you. You couldn’t help but look at him with awe as he gazed at you with so much love and devotion shining in his eyes.

“You are just… Breathtaking.” He admired you with every part of his being, “Utterly breathtaking…” He seemed mesmerized as his right hand traced along your curves.

You blushed, a small smile playing on your lips as you looked away from him embarrassed by his loving words, “Who knew you were such a flatterer.”

He chuckled lowly as he leaned back down to kiss your lips. All too quickly he left and began leaving a trail of kisses down to your neck. You couldn’t help your eyes fluttering closed at the feeling.

“You deserve to be flattered.” He continued losing himself in everything that was you. He rocked himself against you as he held back the urge to devour you entirely. He wanted too so desperately now that he knew you were his, body, soul, and mind. He would never let you go, not now… Not until his last dying breath. “You deserve the galaxy, my little flower.” He muttered softly against your skin.

You have much to learn little flower.

You moaned lightly at the pleasure he filled you with almost kissing his last words, but you heard them. Your mind took a moment to register the deeper meaning behind his endearment, but when you did your eyes opened in realization. It was him. Qimir was him. No one knew about that little nickname except for…

“Master?” You whispered running your fingers through his hair in a gentle manner, but your heart beat widely in your chest as he stopped kissing you.

“Hm…” He hummed a small smirk gracing his lips as he breathed against your neck, “You finally figured it out.”

You placed your right hand on his cheek and gentle lifted his head to face you, “He’s you?” You said in awe as you pieced together every moment up until now, “You’re him?”

“I am.” He searched your eyes for any fear or resistance, but his shoulders relaxed as he saw none.

“So… That is why you were never around when he— I mean when you were training me? Because you were already there.” Your brows furrowed, “Does Mae know?” A small pang filled your chest at the possibility of her knowing your masters identity before you.

He shook his head, “No.”

The pang quickly left, filling your chest with relief as you let out a small sigh, “So… That’s how you were so sure about how he was feeling because that’s what you truly felt…” A blush filled your cheeks at the kind words he said to you earlier.

However, you realized something else as well. He was the one who kept you from becoming his acolyte. You gasped as you smacked his chest causing him to groan and you would have cared for the old Qimir if you didn’t already know how strong he truly was as your master.

“Why won’t you make me your acolyte?” You huffed slightly embarrassed now that you know you spilled your guts to him, “This entire time I have told you how I felt. I am devoted only to you master so why will you not let me become your acolyte?”

“I thought you would have figured that out by now.” He chuckled shaking his head.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, “What do you mean? That is why you train me, it is why you let me stay with you, is it not?”

Strands of his hair fell into his eyes from the way he shook his head. You couldn’t help, but reach up to brush them away, something that had his heart flutter and his lips curl up into a soft smile. He leaned into your touch, his eyes closed as he spoke softly, “I don’t want you to become my acolyte anymore because I couldn’t bear the thought of something ever happening to you.” His gaze darkened, “I would burn the galaxy before that ever happens.”

You smiled softly and brushed away the creases from his brow, “I know.”

“I want you to be mine.” He nuzzled his nose into your wrist before placing a gentle kiss upon in, “I want you to be my equal… Not as someone who does my bidding, not as my padawan or my acolyte, but someone who stands by me.”

“I want you my little flower because you are everything I wish the world to be.” He finished, a soft look in his eyes.

Love swelled up in your chest at the confession he conveyed so deeply to you. His love sealed your fate to him as you leaned up towards him. You brushed your lips against his, the both of you conveying your strong emotions to one another with the look of your eyes.

“You have my heart Qimir and I will stand by your side, always.” You agreed softly.

It was a promise that the two of you would keep without any doubt. He was yours and you were his until the end of time.

[swetearss]

sorry for always being the first like in your fic, i just check the 'x reader' hashtag constantly

[graveyard-stray]

No because why is he so fine. Like actually what the hell.

I would do literally anything for him.

[colmiillo]

Seriously, you again, reading a fic about a person who doesn't even know you exist,OR WORST,doesn't even exist........same thing sis. Keep reading

[meshla-cyarika]

[inklore]

— qimir x f!reader why would you run from him after everything he's shown and given to you. you are supposed to be his perfect acolyte. crafted for him. contents: p in v, over stimulation, semi yandere qimir | wc: 559+

You’ve lost track of how many times you’ve come. How many positions he has put you in. How many times you have begged him for a break, to rest, to catch your breath, to stop the throbbing between your thighs that only gets worse the more he fucks you. 

The more the underside of his cock rubs against your swollen clit. His fingers digging into your thighs as he holds your squirming thighs apart. The force taking over when he grows tired of holding you open for him. 

“Please.” You whined. 

“You sound like you didn’t cause this.” The lack of empathy on his face only makes it worse. Only makes your skin burn and gather sweat, barely filling your lungs. The underside of his cock pushing back and forth through your slit, wet and loud in your eyes. “You did this to yourself.” His words mock you just as much as your arousal does. Evidence of how many times you’ve come, of how your body is spent and can’t stop giving itself over to him. Letting him pull, take, and use you. 

The more his mouth sucks at your clit, the more his fingers curl up inside of you and press against your walls, the more you gush around him. His eyes on yours when you declare you can’t come anymore, and he pulls another from you. 

He allows your fingers to dig into his hair to try and push him away from your swollen cunt. The corner of his mouth pulled up when the flick of his wrist has your hands unable to move. 

Making a show of how powerless you truly are against him in so many ways. So many ways that should fill you with fear. Should anger you. But only heat your cheeks in the opposite effect. The reasons as to why you ran from him long forgotten, long regretted, long praised and thanked by the haze of pleasure, want, the need to rest—to be devoured by him. 

An overwhelming feeling of not being whole, not being able to be put back together unless it’s by his hands taking you apart in the first place. 

His fingers dig into your wrists, your knees pressed against his chest, pushing your ass up from the bed enough to have his hips driving deeper, harder, against it. The tip of his cock hits that part of your pussy that no longer aches when he’s this deep. When your walls are this swollen and fluttering around the thickness of him. 

His mouth leaves bites against your jaw, “are you going to leave me again?” You shake your head, tears sting your eyes, your body spent and overstimulated yet still pulling him in. Still aching for another release and to be awarded his. 

He groans against your cheek, “all I’ve shown you, given you, and you run from me. What happened to my good little acolyte?” His dark eyes look down at you, a hand at the crown of your head, thumb rubbing a soothing circle against your skull. “Are you still my girl?”

You’ll feel pathetic later, no matter how fast your head nods. A sick swoop of joy shoots through your stomach when he smiles down at you. His kisses, once rough, hard, and demanding, now filled with a passion fueled gentleness that makes you come again. 

[aphrcdites]

“not all men”

you’re right, my favorite fictional character would never.