#both of them have blasters how cool!

[youeverjustmarryabountyhunter]

No one will ever find this picture as funny as I do, but that's okay

Context?

One of my best friends has recently gotten back into their security breach hyperfixation and I ended up binging Mark's playthrough again. (Haven't watched ruin yet)

I made the unfortunate mistake of reading the comments and realized that "wow. I will defend this kid until the day I die, actually??"

Which led to a joke with my friend about how similar Boba and Gregory are which led to this image.

Do you have feral, orphan, child (probably around 10) who is hated by a community and has definitely bitten someone before and is most definitely a criminal?

No you don't, that's my kid now actually.

[illdothehotvoice]

Shout out to younger me that was told multiple times that I had the best papyrus interpretation. I was a complete fraud btw I would just make up bullshit and that bullshit just happened to be backed up by canon dshjgkdfh

[revelboo]

More Transformers x Reader Headcanons

Various Transformers thoughts and nonsense

Soundwave/Blaster

• Cassette carriers can make a very specific crooning sort of purr that’s meant to soothe or coax unruly cassettes. Most of the time it’s not even a conscious thing. Which isn’t a problem except around humans. Because of our size, we can trigger that instinctive sound by accident if we’re upset. Even if the Cybertronian doesn’t even particularly like us or care for us at the time, leading to some… awkwardness.

Earthspark Soundwave

• “Silence,” he snarls, looming over you, big servos flexing in what you’d already figured out was an empty threat. Big and scary won’t actually hurt you, just threatening when you’re getting on his nerves. Aware of the cassettes watching the exchange, of Lazerbeak glaring at you in an attempt to telegraph how bad an idea it is, you know he’s right. But pushing Soundwave’s buttons is just too fun.

• “Or what? You can’t actually make me do anything, can you?” You just grin up at him. Insolent, little brat. Striding after you, he sees you glance back at him and the exact moment your attitude falters. Lunging for you as you scream and run. Aware of how undignified this is as his cassettes watch the drama. Seizing you as you kick and fight against him, he’s not sure what to do know. Just wants you to shut up. Not try to pick fights at every turn. “What are you doing? Are you purring?” The shaky question makes him freeze in horror. Realizing he is crooning at you like he would a cassette. Snarling, he releases you and you stumble away, staring up at him as Frenzy makes a strangled noise trying not to laugh. Because he didn’t just do that for a human. For you especially.

• They’re also very likely to try to carry a human around in their cassette compartment for safety, but also because they like having your warmth there. It can also be a way of ending an argument, picking you up and placing you inside like an errant cassette until you cool down, while crooning at you.

Body Language

• Cybertronians with wings/ door wings do unconsciously telegraph their emotions with them, but while wings lifted up is a sign of aggression in a Seeker, it’s a friendly or alert gesture in nonflyers. And can cause misunderstandings.

• Antenna can function much the same way and tend to be sensory appendages and, as such, very sensitive. The way they flick or move making them targets for curious humans. Touching a Cybertronian’s antenna because they’re cute comes across as an invitation to interface or can cause aggression. Or both.

TFP Shockwave

• Feet silent as you move closer to where his head is resting on his outstretched arm, you bend to check that his single optic is dim. Falling asleep at his desk while working isn’t exactly anything new, but staring up at the screen of alien gibberish, the graphs, and diagrams, you really wish you could make sense of it as you wrap your arms around yourself. Movement draws your attention back to him as his antenna flick in his recharge. You’d decided they look like bunny ears at some point, but haven’t dared to point that out to him. Doubt he’d be pleased to hear you call him cute.

• Shuddering as he comes awake to the feel of soft little hands playing with his antenna, his optic flares, arm shifting to flatten you against his head with a warning growl. Hears your little squeak of surprise as you grab onto his antenna for balance and his whole frame shivers. Can’t move, his cannon pressing against your back to pin you against him. Torn between the desire to encourage that touch and the urge to drop you and back away, because it feels too good.

Seekers

• When under extreme duress, Seekers will hiss, the noise typically accompanied by a whistling from their turbines that’s meant to call their trine for help.

• Seekers naturally gravitate toward forming trines and can be aggressive to outside trines, but several trines will band together against a common threat. In Everything is Alright, the elite trine is broken. True Romance is a better example of a healthy trine dynamic. In Everything is Alright’s universe, I’d intended to use the Rainmakers as an example of the normal dynamic, but made the True Romance alternate take instead. The drive to form trines in Seekers is so strong, they can also unconsciously form trines with non-Seekers if they’re around the other Cybertronians constantly, though they’re unlikely to admit to the mental association, finding it embarrassing.

Rainmakers

• There’s no such thing as alone time, not even resisting when an arm curls around you and drags you back into a warm frame. Shivering when your hair begins to float, and a mouth finds your throat. “Missed you,” Ion Storm murmurs, your skin prickling wherever he touches you. Even though it’s only been hours by your estimate since you last saw him. Hear Acid Storm make a low, rumbling noise of amusement from where he’s setting out energon cubes for them and food for you.

• About to walk by, Nova Storm reaches out to touch a stray strand of your staticky hair. Giving in to impulse and moving to pin you between him and Ion Storm, relaxing at the feel of your much cooler body against his own. “Fuel first,” Acid Storm growls without any real heat. Making a sound of acknowledgment, he cups your throat and tips your face up toward his, mouth brushing yours as you soften against him, relaxing into the heat of his touch. “I know you two can hear me.”

Mixed Signals

• Especially a problem with more aggressive Cybertronians- when arguing humans will sometimes just walk away to get some space to calm down. Unfortunately, that can come across as an invitation to follow with Decepticons in particular. A challenge. Continuing to ignore them or avoid them, upping their aggression and even seen as flirting or attempts to get their attention.

TFP Megatron

• “Where are you going?” That low, angry growl makes the hair at your nape prickle. He has a point though, trapped on his berth with the mass displaced mech, there’s nowhere to actually go. Except away from him right now, because you’re over arguing with him. Need to calm down and for him to just leave you alone for a minute. Which isn’t happening when you hear his heavy peds following you.

• Stalking after you as you ignore him, that aggression shifts and heats, becoming hunger. Catching your arm to force you to stop, you spin towards him, palm smacking against his face. “Don’t you dare, I’m angry with you.” Growling, he hauls you off your feet against him, chuckling when you slap him again and his spike stirs at your defiance. Wonders who you’re trying to convince, him or yourself as his mouth crashes down on yours.

• Decepticons and Autobots are often taken off guard when humans do something they think is cute. Yawning, sneezing, the way we get flustered are all fascinating to some of them, making them try to provoke reactions. Decepticons especially, have trouble dealing with humans being affectionate or sweet. Gently stroking their helm or curling up against them can be so unexpected they may gently bite in reprimand just because they don’t know how to respond.

• Humans tend to be tactile and want to touch everything. Cybertronians not used to this can be taken off guard when trying to offer a human a ride in their alt mode. Not realizing we’ll touch anything in reach, admiring them without understanding how sensitive their interiors are. These are surfaces that are never really handled. More of them will just tolerate the touch if it’s a familiar human, while others will forcibly eject them or snarl at them not to touch. Especially if the touch comes across as intimate.

Bluestreak

• Struggling to focus on the road as you run your fingers against his dash, shifting distractingly in his seat, a hand on his shifter, Bluestreak swallows a whine. “It’s so wild. I can’t believe the amount of detail you incorporated,” you say, a fingertip tracing a tooled leather seam to make him shudder all over. “Um, are you okay?” No. Not at all. And far too embarrassed to actually say anything because he’s not sure if he’d ask you to stop or beg you to keep touching him with those soft hands.

[saphronethaleph]

Legally Mandated Vacation Days

The holoprojector in Palpatine’s private quarters activated, an image shimmering to life, and Palpatine smiled in anticipation of seeing Vader kneeling before him.

That lasted approximately half a second, until he saw the actual image.

“Your Majesty!” an extremely nervous Imperial Navy lieutenant said, saluting. “It’s an honour to-”

“Where is Vader?” Palpatine asked. “This is his personal hologram frequency!”

“Ah… Lord Vader assigned me to take his calls while he was away,” the lieutenant explained. “It’s, ah… an honour to be speaking to you… do you have a message?”

“Away?” Palpatine repeated. “Why is Vader away?”

“I don’t know!” the lieutenant protested. “Your Majesty, I don’t know anything more than what I’ve told you – he just told me to take his calls and said he was using up some annual leave, since he hadn’t taken any since the year one.”

It took Palpatine a fraction of a second to actually calculate what that meant, because replacing the calendar when he came to unquestioned power had been what the youth called ‘a flex’ but it had also caused significant calendrical chaos and he personally still thought in the old system at least half the time.

Eleven years, then. Vader had eleven years of stored up annual leave, and he was choosing to expend some.

“Where did he go?” Palpatine asked.

“I didn’t ask!” the lieutenant replied. “Your Majesty, I didn’t want to die, and also I don’t think I’m allowed to ask anyway…”

Palpatine glowered at the hologram, then untensed.

Marginally.

“Inform Vader that I want to speak to him as soon as possible,” he said, then ended the call before the lieutenant could start fawning again.

“Uncle Owen!” Luke called, running down the steps of the homestead. “Aunt Beru! Someone’s coming!”

“We’d better see what this is about, then,” Owen Lars decided. “Did you recognize them?”

The pre-teen looked thoughtful.

“Don’t think so,” he said. “Whoever it was, they were wearing black. Not sure why.”

“Black robes are just as cool as white,” Beru commented. “I know black gets hotter, but it doesn’t reach the skin.”

Luke frowned.

“It might have been robes,” he said. “Don’t know.”

“Well, let’s see who it is,” Owen decided.

Beru’s gaze darted to where one of their blasters was hidden, as Owen headed up the stairs.

“Oh kriff,” Owen said, in a tiny voice.

Then a black shape, like death, came down the stairs.

The figure in the armoured suit and cloak wasn’t really forcing Owen to retreat, not really.

Not through any physical means, or otherwise.

He was just… walking, and Owen was responding in an instinctive sort of way to get out of the way of Darth Vader, the Emperor’s Enforcer, the sign of death across the whole of the known galaxy.

Upon reaching floor level, Vader examined Beru, then Luke, then the room around them.

“So,” Darth Vader said, in a dread but awkward voice. “How have you been doing?”

It took all those present several seconds to find their voices.

“...what?” Owen asked, eventually.

“I know it has been a while,” Vader went on, then stopped. “…ah, of course. It is unsurprising you fail to recognize me. I… was not wearing this, before.”

“Then who are you?” Beru asked. “You’re acting like you know us, but… you’re Darth Vader.”

“Yes,” Vader agreed. “I… have had a complicated last few months. I ran into someone from my past. We fought. I was seriously injured, and it gave me reason to consider what I have made of my life. About the relatives that I have failed to visit.”

Owen and Beru exchanged glances, then both looked at Luke.

“Are you really Darth Vader?” Luke said, sounding fascinated. “Everyone says you’re really scary, but you’re in our kitchen and I don’t know if that means you’re scary.”

“I am extremely scary,” Vader replied, in tones of either great seriousness or impressive deadpan. “I have killed people for annoying me. I have killed people who did not have the time to annoy me.”

“Did you cut their heads off?” Luke asked, in that way that children can. “I’ve never seen that happen but it sounds like it’d be really messy. There’s two bits of person then.”

Vader made a sound that, charitably, could be interpreted as chuckling.

“It appears I have been remiss in not talking about my work to my step-brother’s child,” he said. “I approve of you, child.”

“Step-brother’s child…” Owen said, then his eyes went wide. “You’re – you’re Anakin!?”

Vader tilted his head slightly. “Who else would I be?”

“I’ve got relatives,” Beru pointed out. “I wouldn’t have thought any of them was Darth Vader, but… we thought Anakin was dead.”

Vader appeared to think about that.

“I can see why you would think that,” he admitted.

“Does that mean you’re my dad?” Luke asked.

Vader did a double take.

“What,” he said.

For a moment, simmering anger filled the room, then it faded away.

“I suppose if you thought that I was dead, then taking in my child would be reasonable,” he conceded. “As my only surviving relatives of any sort.”

“I’ll get some water for us to share?” Beru suggested, falling back on basic hospitality. And on a way to get out of the sight of the others for a minute.

She was going to need to comm Ben Kenobi to stay the absolute kriff away from the homestead for now.

It was at least possible that Vader – Anakin – whichever would be more interested in his very much alive and present son he was reconnecting with than a mention of an absent Kenobi somewhere else on the planet who made Luke toys.

Kenobi here? The fight would destroy the homestead, and that would make it considerably more difficult to keep Luke safe… even with how the difficulty of that had jumped significantly in the last ten minutes.

[joelsbloodyhands]

MANDALORIAN IMAGINE

Din gets jealous when you cuddle an ewok

WARNINGS: None just Din being a jealous tin-man 😌 however if you don’t like cuddling, this is not the fic for you.

A/N: Let’s be honest, how can you not want to cuddle an Ewok? Also, there’s no way in hell Din would ACTUALLY just let you pull him up to a treehouse. That man would have you thrown over his shoulder so quick- (I need to stop before I re-write this fic) 😫 also I should mention Din probably knows what ewoks are but for the sake of this fic and my sanity, let’s all pretend he has no clue (since it wouldn’t be a surprise anyway considering how he barely understands what a Jedi is) 🤭

READER does not have a specified gender, they/them pronouns used. Reader is in an established romantic relationship with Din. Reader has parent relationship with Grogu (no gendered title used). Reader does not have a visible disability.

“I can’t fathom why you’re terrified of Porgs and not of Ewoks,” Din sighs as you laugh excitedly at the fluffy creatures bringing you random stormtrooper helmets that look like they’ve seen better days. “That was one time!” You huff, eyebrows narrowing at him as you stick a tongue out towards him. He chuckles as he watches you murmur thank you’s to the waddling balls of fur. “Yet it seems to happen every time we encounter them,” he mumbles amusingly causing you to shush him.

You had landed on Endor, finding refuge in the lush forests, surprisingly cool on this sunny planet. It hadn’t meant to happen. Encountering pirates on the way to Batuu, the ship was damaged and thus you landed safely onto the green planet unscathed. It had meant to be a quick stop until you had alerted Din to the sighting of something “small, round and fluffy” lurking around the ramp.

Din had been quick to try to deter you, his hand on his blaster as you approached the small bundle of fur, raising a sharp spear your way until you offered it the same blue cookies Din often tried to persuade you not to buy Grogu every time you went to a market. Though much to his surprise, the small creature with large eyes, snatched the snack and gobbled it right up quite happily mumbling some unintelligible language Din couldn’t make sense of and nor could you for that matter, still taking its offering hand and letting it pull you into the forest with Din at your heels and a laughing Grogu in his satchel.

Din had protested the short journey to a cluster of high tree houses, spiralling up into the great trees. The little creature had beckoned you up a wooden set of stairs. Din had taken your wrist, looking up at you from the bottom of the steps and could you see his face, you knew he’d be pouting unhappily.

“Please, mesh’la. Come back to the ship. We don’t know these creatures.”

You had understood his concern of course but part of you yearned for a detour. An adventure. You had both been travelling to and from planets, often with Din disappearing for days on end to collect bounties for credits while you babied Grogu and took care of the ship in his absence. Part of you felt too cooped up in the ship, almost selfishly thanking the maker for causing it to go to disarray and landing you somewhere new.

The small creature babbled up to you as Din’s fingers travelled to yours, intertwining your fingers and gently tugging. You looked back to him, “it’s getting dark, Din. We should spent the night at least.”

He sighed as he watched you turn back and with great difficulty tried to communicate to this brown fluff ball if they could give you some place to rest. Din meanwhile looked down at your son, his big eyes blinking up at his buir with intrigue towards his parents new friend. Din shrugged at him in response as the small boys eyes found the back of your head again cooeing.

The bug-eyed creature had brought the both of you to an empty treehouse, one a lot smaller than the others surrounding the area above. It chattered away in a language neither of you understood but it seemed to quickly learn that it was better to show you with gestures than with words. You had thanked the critter by giving it the rest of the cookies from your bag and offered up a parcel of bantha meat to cook that Din had realised you must have snatched from the pantry on the way off the ship. He smiles underneath his helmet, you were always prepared to take care of everyone.

That’s what he loved most about you.

“What do you think, Din?” You had asked, breaking through his thoughts as he lifted his head to watch you take off your jacket. The small creature had taken the parcel quite happily, waddling excitedly with it out of the house.

“Just one night, cya’rika,” he gently asserted, watching you pout but nod understandably.

“Okay but you have to admit this is pretty neat,” you open your arms twirling on one spot, your eyes looking up towards the top of the house.

A staircase ran around the outside walls, circling to what appeared to be an open topped roof with a balcony. A small table sat in the centre of the room, carved intricately out of wood with what appeared to be a couple of woven moss pillows on either side. Some woven sleeping mats and fur blankets folded neatly in the corner. A fire lantern hung from the staircase and the glow of a fire from outside the hut cast light through the doorway.

Din had to hand it to the creatures, they were rather skilled considering how dopey they looked.

He turned his attention back to you, watching you now pull out two mats and lay them side by side before folding up blankets and placing them down as pillows, setting up your sleeping space. Grogu babbled up at Din who mindlessly lifted his son out of his satchel, watching him scurry off to you, a small hand taking hold of your sleeve as he watched you get everything prepared.

Din wandered off towards the table, removing his weaponry and gear. As he removed some of his armor; opting to keep his chest piece on (just in case), you stood contentedly brushing off your thighs as you overlooked your sleeping arrangements with the small child now gripping your trouser cuff, big brown eyes following your movements. “There,” you clasped your hands together, looking at your son with delight who cooed almost understandably at your cheeriness. “Are you hungry, ad’ika?” The boy cried out happily at the mention of food while Din tried to control his exceeding heart rate that fluttered whenever you spoke in his native language.

It wasn’t your first language.

You had picked up the odd phrase here and there, asking Din to teach you the proper pronunciation. He did so with ease, not really thinking you would adapt or desire to even use it. Safe to say, he was surprised the first time you used the word ad’ika to describe Grogu when singing him to sleep one night. Then his legs nearly gave out under him, the first time he heard your sweet voice call him riduur.

He hadn’t taught you that one.

So the question was; who did teach you?

“Bo told me it means partner,” you had admitted, nervously rocking on your heels at his stuttering reaction. “Did I say it wrong?” You blushed, your lips trembling and eyes watering, worried you may have offended him. Din stepped towards you before stopping himself. If he got any closer, he didn’t know what he’d do but he knew for sure, he wouldn’t want to stop once he started.

“No, cya’rika. Your pronunciation was perfect but-“

“But?” You had interjected, your eyes now on your feet. Din could only recognise the expression as though you were waiting for rejection and that was something Din was absolutely NOT going to do.

“Cya’rika?” You lifted your gaze to his visor, “Riduur means a lot more than partner. Bo told you that, right?”

You frowned in confusion and your body shook anxiously as you stumbled to explain, “Well, she corrected me because I called you my boyfriend and she said the proper word for us- I mean, for you and what you mean to me…that word would be riduur.”

Din fell silent.

Bo you fiend, he mentally tsked.

“It doesn’t mean boyfriend, mesh’la,” Din found himself saying, thinking it would probably be best to rip the bandage off and let you know now to help you realise that you would want to stop using it.

“Oh?” You narrowed your eyes in surprise and he could see the cogs working your brain about why your friend would say that to you.

“Um, it means- well, riduur is- it’s, you’re calling me your husband.”

Your eyes widened and Din had thought he knew how red your face could get but right now your cheeks were as bright as the lava fields of Mustafar.

“It means- I…I called you my husband?” You clarified, your heart pounding erratically.

Din walked to you then silently and your eyes followed his visor until he was stood so close, your head tilted back to meet his gaze. He ran his eyes over your features, noticing that you seemed almost afraid. Not of what he would do. He knew that but afraid that you had upset him.

“You don’t have to stop,” he murmured, a light breath leaving your lips.

“What?” You implored and Din could see the way your body reacted. His eyes on your thighs tensing and the way the knuckles in your hands stiffened, your tongue peeking out to wet your lips.

“You can call me your riduur,” he tilted his head, awaiting your reaction but your cheeks merely bloomed even more crimson than before.

“Ner riduur?”

Din smiled. Your voice interrupting the memory as he met your eyes, now kneeling before him with a small clay bowl of cooked meat and an array of greens.

“Are you hungry? Our friends have cooked the meat and we’re sharing it out. They seem quite pleased. This is for you,” You offered the bowl to him. Din tugged his glove off his hand, taking the bowl with his fingers grazing your warm ones.

“Thank you, cya’rika. I’m glad to hear you’re getting along well with them,” he watches as you beamed happily at his words.

“They seem docile,” you appraised, eyes on the doorway with a finger swiping your chin thoughtfully. “Although I believe them to be perhaps territorial when threatened. They would make for useful allies.”

Din grinned under his helmet.

This was just like you. You find the good in everyone.

“However,” you began and Din’s smile immediately slipped.

“However?” He urged as your brows narrowed.

You laughed, “I did have to sternly inform them that Grogu is our son and not food.” You stood, turning from him while Din scrambled with his words.

“Ner riduur, I don’t like the sound of this. We should leave-“

“Gotcha,” you turned swiftly on your way out the door, winking at him as he let out a heavy sigh. His heart momentarily starting back up again.

“That wasn’t funny,” he poked at the meat with the wooden spork.

You giggled, “I had to say something to get you to lighten up. Grogu is fine. In fact, he’s more than fine. They actually seem to be steering out of his way. He’d used the force earlier to get more meat for his plate. I had to scold him. Not the ewoks.”

“Ewoks?” Din’s shoulders lifted interestedly.

“Yes,” you nodded, “that’s what they are called. The creatures. The Ewok species. One of them had an old book with a description of this planet and the inhabitants.”

“Interesting,” Din looked to the doorway, listening to the small sounds of cheering and clashing of dishes.

He turns back and meets your smile, immediately growing self-conscious at the way you’re staring at him. You giggle when his visor darts down to the bowl and wander towards the doorway, hovering a moment with your hand against the small weaved shutter.

“Enjoy, ner riduur, I’ll make sure our son doesn’t eat too much,” you wink and Din hums lightly under his breath, feeling the overwhelming need to clear his throat when his face grows hotter at your intense eyes.

He hears you giggling again when you shut the door behind you, ensuring his privacy to remove his helmet as he eats.

He doesn’t feel alone as he does though.

Distantly, he can hear the babble of foreign voices and your laughter as well as Grogu’s whines for very likely something more to eat. Din takes his time, eating and surveying your conversation from afar. Something he takes great pleasure in.

A few minutes later, Din stands, his mouth dry from his meal, deciding to venture to find if these creatures have anything to wash their local veggies down with.

He abandons his bowl and the hut, following the light sounds of laughter and foreign voices. In front of one of the treehouses above, Din watches the gathering of Ewoks dancing while playing music. While intrigued by their customs, a flash of green appearing in his peripheral catches his attention and he swiftly turns his visor downward to find his son waddling towards him from out of a nearby hut a lot smaller than the others.

Din bends down, picking Grogu up when he reaches for him.

His son babbles to him in a mumble of incoherent words and mando’a.

“Where is your parent?” Din says. His visor flashes up towards the party above again but you don’t appear to be among them. If you were, Din was pretty sure you’d be prancing around happily like the rest of them.

Grogu babbles again, more increasingly and Din catches the words for “in there” translated from Mando’a. His head turning towards the hue of amber glow emitting from the small hut, shadows dancing from inside.

Din walks toward the door but stops almost instantly before his boots can cross the threshold.

He’s still when he sees you.

Your back to him, crouched down, he watches as you offer your hands to a darkened corner, murmuring soft reassuring words.

Din’s heart paces.

He’s not sure what you’re talking to but nevertheless it has him concerned when his hand lowers to the blaster at his thigh.

Though just as quick as he could hover his hand above it, your hands take the smaller furry ones pulling the shaky ewok from the confines of its comfort bubble. “It’s okay,” you murmur, “see? You are safe.” Din’s heart warms, his hand relaxing at his side. “We are no threat to you,” you whisper and Din goes to turn, a smile on his lips at your tenderness towards these creatures until he sees the way you wrap your arms around the small thing.

He freezes.

You lift it up into your arms, it’s little legs hanging loosely at your side as you clutch it tightly in your embrace, swaying side to side and rubbing your cheek affectionately against its head with a small giggle.

Din’s heart races so fast, he’s afraid the sound of his pulse is echoing through his helmet from his temples.

What in the maker-

The sound of Grogu blowing a loud raspberry fills the silence.

Din steps back suddenly just as your head snaps in his direction at the door. His feet already carrying him as quietly as possible back to your treehouse, patting a jealous Grogu and repeatedly shushing him as he protests in speedy babbles.

A few minutes later and after some pacing, Din ultimately resolved to putting his still babbling son to bed while thinking, if the little womp rat could coherently speak in more mando’a, he was most likely mocking him for running away at the sight of you.

Once Grogu was tucked in and secure, (there was no other balcony from the second floor, just an arched window), Din stomps back down the wooden steps, removing his chest piece and gloves. These small creatures may run in packs but if they were trouble, Din was more than sure he could handle them unarmed.

Once slumped against the tree bark, his ears honing for Grogu’s steady breaths and satisfied with the gentle sound, he lets his eyes fall closed a moment until the growing thud of boots flashes them open again.

You still at the door frame, taking in the relaxed fold of Din’s body in the corner of the room, your eyes frowning between the sleep space you had set up and his position.

When you notice the slight tilt of his head, you put your hands on your hips.

He’s watching you.

He’s awake.

“What?” You inquire, your eyes taking in the silent Mandalorian in front of you. His body stretched out lazily, arm folded against his chest with his back braced against the bark of the treehouse.

Din doesn’t respond.

He’s still fighting the need to shift his body, the discomfort setting in at how hot his face is getting under his helmet. The words burning at the tip of his tongue not quite ready to release. He sighs and you roll your eyes in response, your tired body carrying you up to the second floor to check on your sleeping child.

Leaving the grumpy metal man to his thoughts, Din tries to ignore his desires for you, attempting to drift off to rest but getting a constant flash of the image of you cuddling the Ewok tightly in your arms. Din groans mentally at the sight of your cheek pressed against the top of its furry head, a smile stretched across your face pleasantly. You smooth your fingers through its fur and sway gently from side to side.

Din had yet to hold you like that.

Or hold you in anyway at all.

He had only recently admitted to his feelings and doing so in a rather reserved manner. The closest he’d gotten to touching you was holding your hand. It hadn’t progressed any further since. He wanted to wait until you instigated any physical touch but when you hadn’t, Din just assumed it was unwanted on your part. So he feared the idea of trying to touch you even with your consent.

Did you really want him to? He’d never actually asked. Should he ask? Would you reject him?

He’s not fluffy and his beskar is far from soft but his body can be quite warm after spending most of the day under clothing and armor.

“Din?” Your voice called out in the night.

Oh kriff.

His thoughts had carried themselves to his bed.

The both of you now laying side by side.

A small space between your sleep mats preventing him from feeling your warmth.

“Yes cya’rika?”

Din had watched with stiff hands as you walked back into the hut earlier completely unaware of what he had witnessed. You’d probably think him completely stupid for making such a big deal out of the whole thing. I mean really? Din was older than you and yet he was being completely childish.

Was he really jealous about seeing you hold another creature in a way you had yet to touch him?

“Why are you so quiet?” You questioned.

“Are we not sleeping?” Din replied, matter-of-fact.

But his question left room for an answer and he gets it when he hears you roll over, propping an arm up and looking at his back.

“You’ve been awfully quiet since I came back to rest. What’s wrong?” He feels your eyes burning a hole through his helmet if it were even possible.

“Is it so unusual for me to be quiet, mesh’la? You always said I was deadly silent.” He chuckles, trying to make light while his insides flutter dangerously.

You hum, “This is true but I think there’s something you’re not telling me.”

Din shudders and he’s thankful you can’t see the movement through his padded suit.

“Everything is fine,” he speaks.

“Why do you lie?” You’re sitting up completely now, cross legged and he can picture your arms over your chest.

“Cya’rika,” he turns back around and sure enough there you are, eyebrows furrowed, arms folded facing him. “I do not lie.”

You exhale, “Din Djarin.”

When you’re using his full name, it’s never a good thing.

“Do you remember when you told me to always share our feelings with one another?”

He sighs. “Yes, I remem-“

“Less than a cycle ago, when Grogu was sick, you took him to Peli and went to the market for medicine. You woke up early and took him. When I woke up, I was beside myself with worry. When eventually you returned in the evening without him, what was my reaction?”

“You were very upset, mesh’la,” he sits up, wanting to provide you with his full attention, knowing you were concerned. It still bothered Din to this day that he overlooked how upset you had been.

“I was very upset, yes and when you told me where Grogu was, what did I say?”

“You told me I made you feel insufficient as a parent because I didn’t tell you our son was sick and made you feel that you couldn’t care for him so left him with a friend who would know what to do.”

“That’s right. I was very angry. I retrieved my son, came back and locked ourselves in our bunk without you until he pulled around from his fever. And what did you say when I finally let you see him?”

“To tell me when you’re upset. So that I can apologise and understand what I had done wrong because I don’t always realise it. It’s been a long time since I’ve shared my life with another human.”

“And what did I tell you?”

“To do the same.”

“So that leads us back to the present, my love,” Din’s visor lifts, his heart pounding at the sweet term on your lips. “Tell me what is wrong?”

Din’s body trembles but he swallows a lump in his throat, avoiding your gaze, he lets his thoughts release from his tongue, “Earlier I saw you with one of the creatures.”

You frown but nod, “the ewoks?”

Din nods, “Yes. I saw you holding it rather tightly.”

You seem puzzled until your eyes widen, realising what he’s saying.

“You seemed rather happy when you were holding it. I just thought, well I was curious if that was something you would like to do again?”

It’s silent. It’s so silent Din can hear the rustling of the trees through the forest.

“You mean if I would like to hold the ewok again?” Your voice comes out uneasily, clearing your throat awkwardly.

“I meant, if you would like to hold me?”

Din’s jaw tightens, his eyes closing. He’s so sure you’ll reject him. Why did he even say it? He should’ve just told you something else like how he was worried about the way you joked earlier about the ewoks wanting to eat Grogu, he should’ve just-

“Would you like me to hold you?”

Din’s helmet lifts immediately. His visor on yours and he swears while his head was dropped in denial, you’ve inched closer to him.

“Speak the truth.”

Din’s heart races at your words, his eyes running over your body, you’re practically crawling across to him and his shoulders lift and drop quickly with each uneasy breath he takes.

“Yes,” it’s urgent.

It’s pleading.

But before he can say anything else, your body is curled up into him, your legs trapping his broad ones, your arms slipping under his and flattening deliciously over his aching back muscles. Your head nuzzles up on his chest and Din looks down at your bodies, realising just how perfectly you fit together.

And then you squeeze.

Ever so gently but with enough pressure to send a wave of euphoria drowning out every unsure thought in Din’s mind.

“Is this okay?” You speak softly and Din bends to it, your voice and body draped over him like the softest blanket. His arms loosen, his hands finding refuge over your shoulders, the other weaving his fingers through your hair. You’re so soft. So warm. His fingers tugging gently through your strands, sending aches through your body. Maker, how you’ve longed for him.

“Yes. Is it okay for you?” He needs to know. He needs to know if you wanted this just as much as he does.

“It’s perfect,” and then you lift your head, your mouth inches from the underside of his visor where he swears you must be able to feel his breath escaping there and you do. You have to fight the urge to lift the helmet only so far as to press a soft kiss against those lips you have yet to feel, “You’re perfect, ner riduur.”

You shuffle your head back against his chest, “I’ve always wanted to do this.” You release a satisfied sigh, “I thought you wouldn’t like it.”

Din mentally groans, his arms tightening around you.

“I..I thought you’d reject me, ner kar’ta. That’s why I never asked. I’m sorry,” his voice drips with regret. Every night could’ve felt like this.

You giggle and Din feels his whole body relax at the sound.

“Such fools aren’t we? We got there in the end. So I guess I was wondering if we can do this every night?”

Din chuckles, a finger twirling around a strand of your hair, the other resting at your hip, “I was hoping we could. If that’s okay with you?” He takes the opportunity to tug you closer. His hands working over your back now while you shiver happily at the touch.

“Absolutely,” your lips tip into an amused grin, “especially since you got jealous. I need to make sure your needs are sated it seems.” You let your forehead tip against his helmet in a kiss momentarily and Din wished more than anything right now that he wasn’t wearing it at all.

Din doesn’t even argue with your accusation. He was jealous and he knew you’d find every way going forth to gauge that reaction from him again.

“Goodnight, Din,” you giggle, reading his mind.

“Sweet dreams, ner riduur,” he gently nudges his helmet against your head in return, feeling you relax, your eyes closing and gradually falling asleep in his arms.

Din smiles, watching you breathe slow, the puff of your chest felt against his own.

Maybe he should let you drag him on adventures more often if this is how they end.

[rileyslibrary]

No fun allowed.

Based on this idea from anon: Can you feel that? A heat wave is washing over the 141 base. Who wants to do training at 35 degrees and counting? No one but Ghost of course... Maybe it's time for some fun summer activities instead? How about some beach volleyball in the sandpit where they blow up explosives? Fruit salad from a helmet anyone? Can our stoic lieutenant be convinced to enjoy this sunny day with the team?

———————————————————————

You were all melting in the heat today, but the lieutenant insisted on continuing the training.

Even the medics stepped in. They tried to emphasise the dangers of heat stroke, but Ghost dismissed their credibility and accused them of slacking off, claiming that he’s been through worse.

That’s right—he has been through worse. So why should you have to go through the same?

Without anyone else to turn to, you collectively decided to snitch on him and inform Price, hoping he’d be the most sensible of the two.

Being the man he is, the captain came up with a solution to please both parties—Yes, you would continue your training, but with water guns instead. This way, you could cool off from the heat while following Ghost’s training routine.

And so it happened—water guns, balloons, sprinklers, and inflatable pools were brought to the base and set up around the training grounds to simulate a field exercise.

The lieutenant wasn’t happy, but then again, when was he ever?

“This is bloody orange, and these look like fucking Skittles,” he moaned, looking at the water blasters and pointing at the balloons, “how are we going to blend in with these?”

You tried to reason with him, explaining that the bright colours would add to the difficulty since you would all have to work harder to camouflage yourselves. And, although he didn’t accept the idea in the way most people tend to change their minds, he stopped complaining.

Everyone changed in their summer attire except for the lieutenant, of course, who didn’t remove anything from his body. Not even his gloves. You asked him why he was still clinging to all that gear and pointed at a flare in his tactical vest, claiming it was unnecessary. He clarified that it wasn’t a flare but an Evian water facial spray. His response made you laugh, and in return, he made you drop and give him fifty push-ups.

And so the “training” began, and it was nothing like your lieutenant had hoped for. You were all deliberately blasting water guns at each other while staying within the sprinkler’s range to keep cool. Ghost soon lost his patience—if he had any—and chased around whoever dared to laugh or show any hint of joy, yelling things like, “Stop laughing, ya focken muppets,” and “This is serious; why can’t you take it the way is intended to be?”

And this went on and on until the water fight turned into a game of cops and robbers. Or, more like, one cop and many robbers, with Ghost chasing soldiers around and you treating him as the enemy.

And he loved it. Finally, he did.

Look at him now; so happy and running around, trying to catch you. He corners you inside a mock house, and you can see traces of his smile through the damp cloth covering his face. You desperately try to escape his grasp, but you’re too slippery. He lifts you up and tosses you over his shoulder. You scream and laugh simultaneously, and he responds with a menacing chuckle. He carries you to the centre of the training grounds and throws you in one of the inflatable pools—his “prison cells,” as he now calls them.

———————————————————————

[toaarcan]

Hi, hey there, did you know that the whole "Jedi can deflect blasters so Mandalorians used solid-shot weapons to kill them because blocking a bullet with a lightsaber just results in molten metal spraying the Jedi" meme is actually bullshit?

Like, first thing you have to know about that lore is that it was written by Karen Traviss. Traviss is fairly infamous for writing a shitton of military wank and really hating the Jedi, portraying them as cruel, cold, fascist idiots, who are much, much lamer than the cool Mandalorians, who are badass military types and definitely haven't carried out multiple genocides in the past (they have). She was also known for not exactly playing ball with other writers, and ultimately ragequit the franchise when TCW started to include Mandalorians and portrayed them differently. This was not a detail that basically any other writer in anything Star Wars ever actually backs up.

And like, here's the thing... this exists.

That's a Jedi using the Force to deflect bullets with her bare hand.

This is Tutaminis. And/or Force Deflection, it's not really clear whether they're the same thing or not. It's a pretty standard Force ability that a bunch of characters have demonstrated. Obi-Wan blocks both bullets and a flamethrower with it in the 03 Clone Wars microseries. It's how Yoda catches and redirects Force Lightning during his duels with Dooku in Attack of the Clones and Palpatine in Revenge of the Sith. It's how Vader absorbs Han's shots with his hand in The Empire Strikes Back.

It's also evident from the amount of times that the Mandalorians fight the Jedi with normal blasters instead of breaking out their "anti-Jedi" weapons for their ancient enemies. And the fact that the Mandalorians lost their wars against the Jedi.

If solid-shot guns/slugthrowers were the amazing anti-Jedi weapons that totally always worked against Jedi, then we'd see a lot more slugthrowers and a lot fewer Jedi. We see the CIS' Droid armies fight against the Jedi for three years, we see the Clones being designed from the get-go to kill the Jedi at the end of the war and being highly successful at it, we see the Empire hunting Jedi for the next 19 years and the rest of the Galactic Civil War after that, and y'know what they have in common? None of them use slugthrowers. They all just keep using blasters.

The answer to "How to kill a Jedi" equation has traditionally been depicted as "Use more blasters than they can actually physically deflect."

There's also the detail that Jedi are precognitive space wizards who can move with superhuman speed. If you're actually in range to shoot one with a gun, they'll sense you, evade or block with the Force, close the gap before you can chamber the next round, and revoke your Hand Privileges.

Even the "You'll kill them with a spray of molten metal from the melted bullet!" thing doesn't actually track with what we see on-screen. At the climax of Revenge of the Sith, we see Obi-Wan and Vader fight in the middle of an active volcano. They get splashed with showers of lava a couple of times, and at the end of the fight, both of their clothes are scorched and burned from the embers. Obi-Wan continues to wear his charred robes throughout the rest of the movie. And he's fine. No lava burns. Neither of them actually gets hurt by the lava until Obi-Wan cuts Vader's limbs off and he can no longer move or protect himself, and even then, Vader survives getting burned to a crisp by being really fucking mad about it.

So yeah, it's nonsense. A dumb "Hurr, Jedi are so lame and my unproblematic genocidal warrior race could totally kill them super-easy" take written by Star Wars' own version of Ken Penders.

[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 you 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, directing 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 attack 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 a 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 mound.

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 he 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 he 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 his 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 base 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 just 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 yours 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.

[hijinxinprogress]

Is the Lantern Corp looking for Young Justice? YJ is wanted on literally every other planet they’ve visited but has it gotten to the point where the lantern corp is involved and actively trying to arrest them?

The justice league is having a meeting and a member of young justice is there for some reason and green lantern loses his shit “YOU! I know you! Do you know how long I’ve been looking for you?!”

It doesn’t matter what yj member it is Wonder Woman is swinging bc “that’s a child! control yourself or I will assist you in doing so” while Batman’s in the background growling “status report! what are you talking about? why don’t I know about this situation? there’s five of you why have I not been briefed on this?” and Hal’s failing to fend off Wonder Woman though he still manages to snap back “Child??! Well, that child and their friends are intergalactic criminals! They’re wanted in at least two hundred and sixty three sectors! For every kind of crime from genocide to fucking petty theft” but Wonder Woman is giving him a look that very clearly says ‘try me if you want to’

which leads to Hal having to go to oa to explain that “yeah no we can’t arrest them, do you want fucking wonder woman to come up here?? I’ll quit rn” and “no I literally can’t arrest them, these are my coworkers kids what do you want me to do?” which ultimately leads to the trinity having to go to oa in yjs place to negotiate lowering their punishment to having a green lantern escort when yj goes on intergalactic missions or leave earth for any reason instead of prison/death like the guardians wanted except having a green lantern assigned to yj doesn’t work the way it was intended and it doesn’t matter which green lantern is assigned to those menaces, it’s not gonna work because

When Hal’s assigned to them as long as they’re not hurting anyone intentionally Hal actively encourages yjs nonsense

YJ respects John for putting up with Hal so they try not to stress him out too much (which means they don’t tell John the plan beforehand if it’s something a Responsible Adult would disapprove of and 83% of the time it is so John’s blood pressure skyrockets whenever he finds out yjs assigned to him)

Jess tried to be the ‘cool authority figure’ when she noticed that yj still did fuckshit under johns supervision along with ignoring literally everything the jl tells them but that didn’t work so she’s started negotiating with them like ‘If you limit yourselves to three small explosions, I’ll give you this blaster I got on my last mission’

they flat out ignore Guy or piss him off enough that he leaves despite it being an assignment from both the league and the guardians

they rarely listen to Kyle bc he’s friends with Bart and you know he’s friends with Bart so he enables like 40% of the shit they do and they get away with the rest

[gelu-the-babosa-multiversal]

*Blasting the door and coming from the smoke left by it* I demand to KNOW more about how poor Jack ended like a headmaster on your crazy awesome sauce AU because AAAAAAAAA 💥 (when you can and if you got more, of course!)

Ok, this took a while 😅 referring to this post

Also art... because I took too long zkjdhkzfhsj

Anyway this is going to be very long, so have a cut as well lol

SOOOOOOOOO I yet don't have a full timeline of events due to working on other stuff, but the premise of this is me pulling up all the Headmasters and Super-God Masterforce lore into TFP. Jack was just the unfortunate soul who I chose to go through all this HAHAHA

In short, while on a mission as always, Miko sneaks out and Jack has to follow her so she doesn't get hurt. But in this mission, there were no Decepticons, it was all a trick from a team of humans who were looking to capture Team Prime. These humans were nothing like Team Prime had encountered before...

Nothing like MECH, like Morocco, or just nothing like they have seen on Earth. These humans had bracelets that when activated gave the human a weird-looking armor, just for a giant headdle robot to appear out of nowhere and then, set human to turn into its head and begin controlling it...

Team Prime knew what those robots were, Cybertronians. How did some humans manage to get those bodies? We don't know. How do they manage to control them? We don't know. Are they actually... Cybertronian bodies? We don't want to know.

It didn't take long for chaos to take control and everyone blasting each other... so the kids had to find a place to stay safe while the ¨fun¨ was happening.

But things just got worse and worse. No space was safe from these weird mechanical humans. So the kids had to keep going deeper to keep themselves safe.

As they keep plunging into darkness, as rocks keep crumbling over them, and as the sound of the blaster keep increasing. The kids could just run. Until it all seemed to stop. Finally! A safe place for the two!

And it seemed normal until Miko had to press one button, and from the ceiling... a giant robot body called. Tied up with chains, colored fully gray colors, no signs of life... just empty. From it, also two bracelets very similar to the ones of the humans had fallen off the robot.

Miko was very curious, but Jack just took them off her hands with one slip. He was very tire, very mad, and just didn't wanted to deal with more...

And they could just have kept quiet, sat, and waited for Ratchet to open a ground breach for them, if for the giant metal hand that destroyed the ceiling and that was trying to squick them...

They were both going to end dead if they didn't found a quick way to scape, but the rumble had already taken that option away. It seemed... if it was possible... one chance to escape.

So Jack called the one about and did a Miko.

As soon as those bracelets clicked on his bare hands, the robot had activated, but at difference of the other humans who became the head of their robots, this one already had one. Instead, when the robot activated this one unchained itself and begin running towards Jack and grab him like a mouse, then, putting the boy on its abdomen that closed like a cage. In seconds, a weird green liquid begin to fill the robot with Jack inside, as if it was juice soda...

Miko started to panic, it seemed that she had given Jack a death sentence and it seemed that it was about to be her turn as the big metallic hand leaned closer to give a hit...

But then, and luckily for her, she was swooped away and taken with safety before the worst.

-

-

-

Jack was not dealing well with this. Like not well... Miko was screaming how cool this was but Jack... the sounds of this new body, the liquid that was all around him, the new heavy limbs he had... it was just so wrong!

They had so much luck managing to scape... but now, BUT WHAT NOW!!?? What is going on and what how is Jack going to get out of this robot suit!!???

Maybe the others could help him, if they don't blast him first...

[in1-nutshell]

I need more of Megatron being a terrible father.

I need Soundwave realizing that Buddy will never be safe on Nemisis and creates a plan for her to escape, entirely against her will. She has been raised that the worst thing you can do is betray Megatron. She's terrified of what will happen to her if she leaves.

I need Soundwave to throw her at the autobots through a ground bridge with a bow on top and a sticker thar says handle with care.

I need buddy to be freaking the fuck out for the next few days while she's with the autobots.

I need Optimus and Ratchet to be low-key (high key) horrified at what has become of her. How funny little buddy who liked to read and the color purple now can't look anyone in the eye.

I need the rest of the autobots being EXTREMELY warry of her because she's MEGATRONS KID

And I need Bulkhead to just move a little too quickly in her direction, and she just crumbles to the floor begging for mercy. I need them to know exactly how shitty of a father Megatron is.

Bonus points if Miko asks about her daddy issues.

Bonus bonus points for Optimus learning that before Megatron came back and did drugs, Buddy was in charge and was trying to reach them for peace negotiations and mentally slamming his head against the wall.

Tis here! After hours of editing and writing... the second part to Megatron's daughter!

Thank you to everyone who has posted their comments about the last one, it means a lot!

Hope you enjoy!

Megatron's daughter with the opposite personality: Soundwave's Plan part 2

SFW, Platonic, ANGST, You have been warned!, Hurt and Comfort, Cybertronain reader

TFP

It took longer than expected but Soundwave finally found one night where everything could fall into place. His plan would act.

Megatron and Starscream had left the Nemesis to look over some energon tunnels, leaving the Nemesis without its leader.

Without anyone competent on the cameras.

Carefully, he put a loop schedule on the cameras as he made his way to Buddy’s room.

The mini was in deep sleep, exhausted from the recovery of her injuries.

It wasn’t wise to get her out of the med bay like this, but what choice did he have. At this rate, Megatron was going to want to train her while she is recovering.

Buddy still had some fresh dents and welding marks littered across her frame. Knockout refused to mess with them until the next day to avoid further armor complications.

Soundwave carefully picked up his niece and headed out the door.

Thankfully Buddy was an extremely heavy sleeper in recovery. If she were awake now during the escape, she surely would have thrown a fit about all of this.

He created a groundbridge and stepped through it, the cool night of the dessert greeted him when he stepped out.

Buddy was still out cold.

Soundwave hoped that the fake emergency signal he sent out would reach the Autobots soon, he was already betting so much with Buddy and the position of the Nemesis like this.

Another groundbrigde opened behind him a couple feet away.

Optimus and Ratchet come out of the groundbrigde.

Optimus with his blaster at the ready with Ratchet holding his med kit in one servo.

“Soundwave?”--Optimus

Soundwave turning around with Buddy in his arms.

Both Autobots optics go wide.

“Is… is that—”--Ratchet

“Buddy?”--Optimus

Soundwave nods slightly and begins to walk forward.

The Autobots tensing up a bit.

“I—come here—in—peace.”—Soundwave

“And how can we trust you?”—Ratchet

“You—don’t.”--Soundwave

Soundwave walks towards the Prime and stops in front of him.

Ratchet takes a look at Buddy, servos slightly shaking seeing the dents and welding marks.

“What is this? What happened?”--Ratchet

“Buddy—not—safe—on the Nemesis.”--Soundwave

“What do you mean she isn’t safe on the Nemesis? She’s Megtron’s daughter who would be daft enough to—”--Ratchet

Soundwave gently pushes her to Primes arms.

Prime reflexively cradles Buddy’s frame closer to him.

“Why did you call us Soundwave? Surely, if this is about Buddy’s health, Megatron would have—”--Optimus

“Megatron—did this.”--Soundwave

“…What?”--Optimus

“Megatron—hurt her. Too much—damage done. Buddy—not safe—on—Nemesis. I—cannot keep—her—safe. Prime can—keep her—safe.”--Soundwave

“…Megatron hurt her… Do you mean to tell us all this damage was Megatron’s doing?”--Optimus

Soundwave nods silently and turns walking away.

“Wait so you’re just going to leave her!?”--Ratchet

Soundwave stops for a moment.

“Buddy—not safe. Buddy—safe—with Prime.”--Soundwave

Soundwave gives one last glance to Buddy’s sleeping form before going through his groundbridge.

Ratchet and Optimus are stun in silence fully rerestarting the words.

Buddy yawns a bit and snuggles closer to Prime’s chassis.

Prime instinctively holds her closer.

Both Autobots are furious and worried over their niece.

“Bulkhead, open up the groundbrigde. We are bringing in someone.”--Ratchet

The three of them returned and everyone was immediately swarming the Prime holding an injured minibot. Everyone is curious about them. The kids are especially curious. This bot was smaller than Arcee, much closer to their size.

Arcee looks at a scratched up Decepticon logo.

Her blasters go up.

“Woah! Woah! Woah! Arcee what are you doing!?”--Bulkhead

“That’s a Con! Why did you bring them here!?”--Arcee

Buddy yawns a bit and begins to open her optics slowly.

“Primus… that hurt… note to self, get a—”--Buddy

Buddy looks up at the very blur optics staring right back at her.

Buddy slowly looks around at the Autobots around her, especially the one with the blaster trained on her chassis.

“Primus tell me this is a dream…”--Buddy

Buddy patting the ends of Optimus’s digits slowly.

They aren’t sharp…

They aren’t sharp!

“OH PRIMUS THIS IS REAL!”--Buddy

Buddy somehow jumps out of the Prime’s servos and starts running to the door.

“Get her!”--Arcee

Smokescreen tries to tackle her down, but she sidesteps making him crash into a wall.

Arcee tries to fire a blast at her, but Optimus immediately puts the blaster down.

“Stand down everyone!”--Optimus

“But Prime—”--Arcee

“Stand down!”--Optimus

Everyone, even Buddy in the corner stops.

Optimus turns to Buddy who is shaking in the corner staring right back at him.

Ratchet is the first to make a move and slowly walks to Buddy.

Buddy tries to press herself more into the wall as ratchet stops in front of her.

“…Hello Buddy…”--Ratchet

“…Dr. Ratchet?”--Buddy

Ratchet gives her a tired smile.

“I’m going to look at some of your welding’s and dents. Is that okay?”--Ratchet

Buddy stops for a moment before nodding her helm, slowly sinking down to the floor letting Ratchet make a few checks on the wounds.

Buddy asks what she is doing on their base.

Something that everyone wants to know.

Optimus tells them about Soundwave’s visit.

How Soundwave wanted Buddy to stay with Prime as the Nemesis was no longer safe for her.

Buddy is in deep denial.

There was no way that Soundwave would do that.

Not after everything they went through.

But the more she thought about it… the more it made sense.

Soundwave wanted her to be safe, and he thought that Optimus was going to keep her safe.

Many bots looked uneasy at her.

They had a good reason too.

This was Megatron’s daughter after all.

What if Megatron came knocking on their door with bombs demanding the sparkling back?

Buddy is granted refuge by Optimus despite some opinions.

The tensions in the base were thick.

Buddy stuck by Ratchet’s side the entire time.

No one wanted anything to do with her, which she understood.

Something that she wasn’t expecting was one of the humans to come up to her and try and kick her pede.

Buddy cleaning some of Ratchet’s tools.

CLANG!

Buddy looks down to see an angry human girl looking at her.

“That was for Raf!”--Miko

“What is this ‘Raf’?”--Buddy

“You’re dad nearly killed him!”--Miko

Buddy looks at the smaller human boy semi hiding behind the taller human boy.

She hangs her head a bit.

“I am truly sorry for my… father’s actions young Raf.”--Buddy

Miko, Jack, and Raf look surprised by the apology.

“Yeah, well a sorry isn’t—”--Miko

“It’s okay.”--Raf

“It is?”--Buddy

“It is!”--Miko

“Yeah, it happened a while ago, but you didn’t have anything to do with it, right?”--Raf

Buddy looking slightly horrified.

“Of course not! I would never want to hurt your indigenous population on purpose or with any malicious intent!”--Buddy

“…wow…”--Jack

“You don’t seem to be related to old Bucket head.”--Miko

“Well… you wouldn’t be completely wrong. He found me in the streets of Kaon in a trash bin.”--Buddy

“So, you’re a dumpster baby?”--Miko

“Miko!”--Jack

“I suppose so. Miko… is that your designation?”--Buddy

“Yep! You know… you don’t exactly fit the Con description. Like at all. One your small—”--Miko

“I’m taller than you, though.”--Buddy

“Yet, Arcee has more height on you.”--Jack

“Arcee? Was that the one who—”--Buddy

“Tried to put more holes in you? Yeah, I’m Jack by the way.”--Jack

“Pleasure to meet you, Jack. My designation is Buddy.”--Buddy

“Wait really? I thought Ratchet said that to calm you down. Coming from Megs kid, I’d think that you’d be named something like ‘Skullcrusher’ or ‘Smash’ or something threatening.”—Miko

“Orion actually gave me the name.”—Buddy

“Orion? Wait as in…”----Jack

The kids and Buddy looking across the room at Optimus and Bumblebee talking.

“Yep.”—Buddy

Miko plopping down in front of Buddy.

“All right spill the lore!”—Miko

“What’s lore?”—Buddy

Things slowly became less tense with the kids acting as an olive branch.

The first ones to come around were Bumblebee and Smokescreen.

It only made sense being that Buddy was near the same age as the two.

The three of them would chat about human media and the latest movies they watched with the kids.

Buddy became very fond of the movie nights the kids would put up.

“Hey, it’s my turn to sit there!”—Smokescreen

Buddy sitting right behind the kids to watch the projector.

“I’m shorter so I get to sit here.I wouldn’t be able to see anything with your big helms in the way. Its only logical.”—Buddy

Miko hoping into Buddy’s lap with a blanket to ‘cover' them both.

“Aww. C’mon! Bee?”—Smokescreen

Bumblebee laying on his side slightly behind Buddy with Raf laying down on his helm with a yellow blanket.

“Beep boop bep beep (You snooze you loose, Smokescreen)”—Bumblebee

Smokescreen laying down, slightly sulking behind Buddy, with Jack slightly leaning on him with a pillow on his head.

“Traitor.”--Smokescreen

“Act you age Smokescreen.”--Buddy

“Wait who is the older one here anyways?”--Raf

“That would be Smokescreen. Bumblebee is the youngest one out of the three of us.”--Buddy

“So, you’re the middle child?”--Miko

“Yes?”—Buddy

Strangely, Magnus and Arcee where the next ones to fall.

It was all thanks to Buddy trying to prove that she wasn’t here for anything malicious.

The two had decided to do some training with the minibot.

They were surprised to see how well the mini could move so quickly and so fast.

Whatever training Buddy had previously was good.

Buddy dodging another attack from Arcee.

“That’s enough. Training is over.”--Magnus

Buddy huffing a bit.

“You tired already? Would have figured that you had more in you.”--Arcee

“You wish Arcee. You barely touched me this time.”--Buddy

“This time. Wait till next time.”--Arcee

Buddy smiling a bit before turning to Magnus, straightening her back struts a bit.

“Ultra Magnus, sir?”--Buddy

“The training was adequate. You need to learn how to attack faster at your opponent’s weak spots.”--Magnus

“I will do my best sir.”--Buddy

Magnus giving a small smile before leaving the room.

Buddy smiling a bit, trying to ignore the shaking servos when she left the room.

Bulkhead and Wheeljack were the last to fall.

It was all thanks to Miko.

Miko had been trying for a while to get them to play with Buddy.

Wheeljack flat out refused to work with Buddy, still thinking that this could have all been some sort of elaborate trick.

Bulkhead was a bit more open minded, but he backed Wheeljack up.

But after a bit of convincing, she managed to get them to play at least one game with her.

And it worked.

Bulkhead soon became another friend of Buddy’s while Wheeljack followed closely behind.

Optimus walking through the base with his data pad in his servo.

He turns the corner to hear laughter coming out of one of the rooms.

He peaks in to see Buddy and his two Wreckers playing, having a great time.

He manages to catch Buddy smiling.

A smile he hadn’t seen in a long, long time.

He turns and continues his walk.

Optimus and Ratchet obviously trusted Buddy right off the bat.

They knew their niece well.

But that didn’t shake the memory of Soundwave telling them that Megatron had laid his servo on Buddy.

Ratchet was absolutely fuming with anger.

How dare a father even consider doing such a horrendous act to their own sparkling!?

Optimus really wanted to fight Megatron.

He almost felt the same way as he did when Raf had gotten exposed to the dark energon.

In a way they both feel like they had failed.

What if scenarios popped up more with Buddy around.

The duo did their best to get Buddy to open up about her time on the Nemesis.

So far it had been snippets here and there, nothing major, but it was something.

Optimus, Ratchet, and Buddy looking at some coding in the empty base.

Buddy stops for a second.

“Buddy? You found something important?”--Ratchet

“It’s just…when fath—when Megatron left to space for those years on Earth, I was put in charge of the Decepticon army.”--Buddy

Ratchet’s optics widen a bit.

Optimus is not too surprised by this news.

“I—I tried to get in contact with you… I wanted to negotiate peace between our two factions, for good.”--Buddy

Optimus optics widen now.

“I—I figured it could be the one good thing I could do on the forsaken ship… I should have tried harder to—”--Buddy

Optimus hugs Buddy close.

Buddy’s optics become blurry with tears.

“Oh…oh Buddy…”--Ratchet

Ratchet rubs circles on Buddy’s back as she racks a sob on Optimus’s chassis.

The Prime holds her close to his spark, wishing he could take away her pain so badly.

They knew they needed to talk more about this to Buddy, but they never seemed to find the right time.

Until the truth revealed its ugly head.

Miko was on Buddy’s shoulder trying to show her a new photo that she took not too long ago.

Buddy didn’t notice Bulkhead behind them.

He wanted to get Miko to go help her with her guitar lessons.

The only things Buddy recognized was a dark shadow and a fast-moving servo.

It was too quick.

Buddy soon found herself cradling Miko close to her chassis with her back towards the offender.

She waited for the blow.

She felt sick when she didn’t feel the blow.

Maybe it was because the only thing Buddy could feel and hear where the loud hums of her spark going haywire.

She didn’t notice Miko furiously hitting her armor trying to snap her out of it.

She didn’t notice the sudden crowd around.

She did notice someone trying to take Miko away.

She tightens her grip on the human but making sure not to hurt her. That was the last thing she ever wanted to do.

It took a minute to try and get Buddy to calm down.

Buddy felt awful for the sudden panic.

Buddy sitting on the med slab looking at Miko who was in her servos.

“I’m so sorry for that.”--Buddy

“Buddy you’ve already apologized, anyways it’s okay.”--Miko

“No it’s not. That should have… it won’t happen again.”--Buddy

“It was my fault Buddy. Maybe if I hadn’t moved so fast.”—Bulkhead

Buddy looking at Bulkhead’s sorrowful optics.

“No Bulkhead it wasn’t you. You just looked a little like… The shadow reminded me of…”--Buddy

“Megatron?”--Ratchet

Buddy flinches a bit, but nods.

Silence.

Miko patting Buddy’s servo.

“When you came to the base all hurt, that was him wasn’t it.”--Miko

Buddy nods slowly.

“I… I think its about time you guys knew what happened. From the beginning. Optimus? Will you help me in the parts I don’t remember?”--Buddy

Optimus placing a servo on Buddy’s shoulder.

“Of course.”—Optimus

[lincolndjarin]

Best Kept Secret

chapter four : sarad'ika (RE-UPLOAD)

ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧

pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 6.8k

summary : you finally get a chance to see the gardens

warnings, etc. : language, panic attacks, general kodo grossness

A/N : i had to change accounts so this is a re-upload of my ongoing fic bks!!

Sarad'ika. 

You won’t forget it this time, you can’t. So you write it in your book, just under Mando’s favorite color you write the two little words that have been keeping you up at night. Once you get that out of the way you’re left alone in the quiet, wide expanse of your room. You have about ten seconds of time alone with your thoughts before you get restless.

You need a change of scenery, and fast, because it’s taking every single ounce of restraint you have left to not stick your hand back up your dress, lock yourself in your room for the rest of the week, and think about that stupid, stupid dream. Opening the curtains you could see the sun starting to come up, so you pulled the rope that summons the girls because you desperately need a bath. You need to get rid of this dirty feeling that envelops you.

His phantom touch lingers on your skin. He had been so real, you swear you’ll have bruises on your waist when you undress.

Elaine and Lysa can’t get here fast enough, but when they do you’re already halfway out the door. 

“Fresher, bath, now.” You’re still rocking a thin sheen of sweat and your mouth is dry. Lysa doesn’t seem thrown by your tone but you have to shoot Elaine a pleading look to make sure she doesn’t ask. 

“Yes ma’am.” Elaine guides you into the fresher and quickly starts undoing your dress, while Lysa draws the bath. You know your entire body tenses up the moment she starts unlacing your bodice, thank the gods she doesn’t comment on it. You waste no time, the moment you’re free from your garments you step into the bath, you’re still not used to cold bathes like this, back on Hoth you’d pull from hot springs down in the planet's core to heat your water. But you couldn’t be more thankful for the cold now because it seems to be cooling the fire that lingers in your stomach. The girls retreat back to your chambers to prepare your outfit for the day.

“Not green.” You manage to squeak out as you sink lower into the bubbles. Watching them go. Alone with your thoughts again. Focus on something else. Don’t think about the Mandalorian. Think about how unnecessarily big this tub is. It’s less of a bathtub and more of a small pool honestly, you could swim laps in here. You float yourself over to the edge of the tub to find a washcloth, you need to scrub off any imaginary touches that might linger on your skin. You start at your shoulders, your mind manages to stay empty until you get to your chest. Then he’s there again, clear as day, so you try to think about something else, think about the least sexy thing you can, the first thing that comes to mind. 

Your husband. 

Yikes.

Surprisingly that works. You think about Kodo and the ache between your legs vanishes completely until you actually have to wash there. Gods, the last thing you need to do is start touching yourself here and now and have one of the girls walk in, so you make it quick, squeeze your eyes shut and shove the washcloth between your thighs and don’t think about him.

But you can’t get away from him, after a moment you open your eyes slowly and it’s like he’s right in front of you.

Fuck he’s actually right in front of you. The door to the fresher is wide open and it’s like he’s frozen in time, one hand on his blaster, the other on the door handle. His visor fixed on you. 

He lingers way too long, you both know it.

Finally, in sync you both seem to snap out of it. He immediately turns ninety degrees to stare at the wall. You know he’s apologizing but you can’t hear him over the ringing in your ears as you feel your face turning crimson. You’re doing everything in your power to cover yourself with the bubbles but you know he definitely saw something, for Makers sake he was ogling you for a second there. There is a beat where it’s silent, you’re staring at him and he’s staring at the wall and finally you find your voice.

“Get out!” You’re covering your chest with one hand as you point at the door with the other. It might be the first time you’ve ever seen him stumble, Elaine walks in as he’s rushing out, wordlessly brushing past her, her eyes go wide as she turns from him to you. Your head is in your hands now. “I think I’m done.” She wraps you in a towel as you stand. She’s grabbing another towel to dry your hair as she extends a hand to help you step out. Guiding you to a stool and sitting you down, humming softly as she pats your hair dry. So much for the cold helping, now it feels like your entire body is on fire. 

“He was just worried.” She says it matter of factly and you whip your head around to stare at her.

“What?” 

“He was worried about you. We were in the closet when he barged in, all he saw was your bedroom doors wide open, and an absence of you. By the time I stepped out into the hall he was throwing doors open.” She smirks as she turns you back around so she can finish drying you off. 

“He should have knocked…” You grumble as you cross your arms in front of your chest. 

“Go easy on him, it’s the first time in what? Three weeks? Four weeks? He’s never been in a situation where he’s shown up to retrieve you and you weren’t there, he probably thought you were spirited away in the few hours he wasn’t keeping an eye on you.” Once your hair is mostly dry she starts loosely braiding it. 

“I’m capable of surviving an hour without him.” You huff, you know she’s probably right. And there is a small part of you that kind of likes how much he seemingly cares. 

“You’re his responsibility. I think it’s sweet how he takes his job so seriously.” 

“Of course you think it’s sweet, he doesn’t follow you around like he’s your shadow.” You mumble but she laughs it off. 

“Come on, Lysa is probably alone with him right now and freaking out, so we better not keep her waiting.” She covers you with a robe and takes you by the arm, ushering you back to your chambers. 

You didn’t know it was possible to look ashamed through so many layers of metal and fabric, but there he is, standing outside your quarters like always except now he’s strung-out. You swear you catch his fingers clenching into a fist for a moment before brushing past him to get dressed, Elaine closing the door behind you before rushing over to Lysa. You’re standing in front of the mirror now and you can see them whispering to each other, you don’t bother trying to get involved when you see Lysa suppress a giggle. 

They dress you in a lightweight pink gown, you’re thankful that they seemed to pick up on your distaste for heavy makeup as they do it much more simply, and before you can stop them they’re leaving. And now you have to sit and stare at yourself in the vanity, putting off the inevitable. It was going to be hard enough facing him without the whole bath incident but now it feels a thousand times worse. But you can’t put this off forever so you might as well get over it. Gritting your teeth you open the door and step out, before you can even look at him he’s rambling.

“I’m so sorry, I thought something might have happened to you, I assumed the worst and it was stupid and I should have knocked but I was worried and I promise I didn’t see anything and-” He stares at the floor the entire time and his words are rushed and quiet. 

“Stop.” You cut him off. You had been prepared to let him grovel but the moment you heard how genuinely distressed he sounded you had decided to forgive him. You didn’t even know it was possible for him to sound so rattled, he’s acting like he saw a ghost.

“Stop?” He sounds like he’s got way more speech prepared and honestly, you don’t wanna hear it. 

“It’s fine. It was an honest mistake and I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay.” He hesitates for a moment. “But I am sorry.”

“Stop it.” You glare at him but start walking in the opposite direction of the library. “But… if you’re really sorry I know how you can make it up to me.”

“Anything.” Well you were gonna ask him to take you to the gardens but if he was offering up anything. It’s almost like he can read your mind because he immediately shoots you a warning look. “Within reason.” Damn it. Gardens it is. 

“I believe you still have a promise to fulfill?” You stop at the fork in the hallway, no longer sure of where you’re going. It takes him a second to realize what you’re implying but after a moment he nods towards the right and walks slightly ahead of you instead of trailing behind. 

By the time you make it outside and to the forest trail neither of you have spoken. There’s still an oppressive tension looming over you both. You can’t look at him and seemingly he can’t look at you. 

Of course in your case it’s because last night he had stared in your own personal porno and in his case he just saw you naked and you just so happen to be married to the guy who pays his salary. 

Maker, is this even salvageable at this point? Do you want to salvage this? 

You have to. This is all you have. Even if you hate him, (although you’re not even sure if that’s still true) even if some small part of you is attracted to him, (you also aren’t sure that part is all that small anymore) even if he saw your tits this morning, (he definitely did.) He’s all you’ve got at this point. So yes, you want to salvage this. All you have to do is say something, if you say the right thing you can fix this whole mess. If you say the wrong thing he might never be able to look at you ever again but that has to be a risk you’re willing to take and your mind moves faster than your mouth as you blurt out what might be the dumbest thing you could possibly say right now.

“Are we friends?” Gods, are you a child? He doesn’t stop walking, doesn’t stop to look at you. His stride never wavers as he continues marching down the trail.

“I don’t have friends.” Well shit. Big surprise the guy who’s paid to spend time with you doesn't consider you a friend. “But, you are probably the closest thing I have to a friend. Even if you don’t have a choice in the matter of my presence.” He finally turns to look at you. Maker, he sounds genuine, why is your heart fluttering, he called you a friend, it doesn’t get less sexy than that. “Am I your friend?” Did his voice just crack? You’re imagining things. 

“Well, I talk to you more than anyone else, I spend more time with you than anyone else, so I suppose you’re also the closest thing I have to a friend.” You’re about to say something snarky to make your statement less mushy but you step out of the trees and your eyes go wide.

It’s nothing like they say it is in books. You’d always imagined a garden to be one big mass of the same shade of green but it’s so much more than that. There’s so many different greens, they all stick out, and there’s so many other colors, nothing back on Hoth that compared to this. You’d all but forgotten about Mando as you just gawked. It was massive, you could probably spend all day walking and never step on the same spot twice. There’s so much you don’t even know where to start. 

You didn’t even know real flowers could be that brightly colored. You’d only ever owned fake flowers growing up because nothing would grow in the cold, the sharp hues of your plastic lilies would look pathetic next to these. These were alive, they swayed in the wind. Bugs flew through the petals. Everything felt alive. Up until this point you had not found one part of this planet that you liked more than home, but this was better than anything you’d ever had a chance to see. 

“Does it live up to your expectations?” He’s next to you now, you don’t understand how he’s looking at you and not the field, you can’t tear your eyes off of it. You want to hug him. Well, no, that would be inappropriate, but you’re so thankful you almost don’t care. 

All things considered you probably shouldn’t even be alone with him at this point with your combined track record the only things that happen when you’re in the same vicinity are arguments. And now nudity. But you’re so happy you don’t give a shit. You’re so happy that when he holds his arm out to you, you take it without a second thought and let him lead the way. 

You wonder if you’ve been this happy since you arrived. Have you been happy at all since you found out you were promised to Kodo? You can’t recall. He’s very thorough, he makes sure you get to see everything, every flower, vine, leaf and root. Everytime he stops in front of something so you can get a good look he waits until you move first, to make sure you’ve had your fill of every single thing. When you ask him questions about the flora he seems almost embarrassed that he doesn’t have answers for you. It’s kind of cute. You don’t know how long you stay like that, arm in arm. You don’t even hear him when he finally speaks, you’re completely captivated by a butterfly.

“What?” It isn’t the usual tone you take with him, there’s a warmth to your tone that you typically reserved for people back home. 

“I asked if you wanted to play a game.” Well you certainly weren’t expecting that.

“What kind of game?” You can’t help but be skeptical, even though you don’t think he’d try and ruin your good mood and you want to trust him. This just seems out of character for him.

“Well, since we’re almost friends with each other, I thought we might get to know each other better. That’s what friends do, they know things about each other.” His voice is casual and he sounds almost relaxed. It suits him. And he’s right, friends should know each other. 

Friends are good. Friends are safe. Friends don’t have sex dreams about each other. You should be friends. That’s the safest thing to be, and it would be nice to have a friend. 

“So what… we just ask each other questions? That doesn’t sound like a game, it sounds like a conversation.”   

“Sounds like someones scared of losing.” He looks straight ahead as the two of you begin walking towards what appears to be a lake, there’s a gazebo next to it and a few other things you can’t make out in the distance. You can’t help but scoff.

“Fine. What are the rules?” 

“It’s simple, we ask each other questions but you can choose not to answer, you can pass. First person to pass on three questions loses.” Well this seems easy enough, and he’s so secretive you’ll win without a doubt. 

“Okay, but I get to go first.”

“Of course.” Is he smiling under the helmet? He probably has a nice smile. Is that something friends think about each other? Who cares, you can let this one thought slide, it's innocent enough. you hesitate for a moment, why not start simple. 

“Where are you from?”

“Pass.”

“You can’t be serious.” 

“Deadly serious.” His tone is still light so you know you haven’t struck a nerve. How odd. 

“Okay so wait, what do I get if I win? Since it’s obvious I’m going to.” That gets a genuine chuckle from him. It’s nice. It’s not as bassy as his voice is, but it’s still low, raspy and authentic. You want to hear it again. 

“What do you want?” 

For you to grope me in front of a mirror? 

Well friends don’t certainly ask friends for that. What did you want? 

“I want a question.”

“Well that just doesn’t make sense princess, we’re playing a question game.”

“No, the winner gets to ask the other person a question and they have to answer. No passing.” You know you have a smug look on your face, you already know what you’re going to ask. He thinks about it for a long time, long enough that you’re worried that he might say no.” 

“Okay. Deal. Where are you from?” You’ve reached the gazebo now and you both take a seat. You rest your arms on the railing so you can stare at the lake. 

“Hoth.”

“I didn’t know Hoth could sustain life.”

“We live underground, why did you take this job?” You kind of expect him to pass again but he answers without missing a beat.

“I needed the credits. This was the highest paying job.” 

“Why did you need money?” You pull your eyes away from the water to look at him, you’re kind of surprised to find his helmet already facing you and not the scenery, it’s gorgeous here. 

“It isn’t your turn.” He asks again before you can protest. “What’s your family like?” You consider passing but it could be worse. 

“I have eight siblings and I’m really close with them. Well I was. I never got that close with my parents, small colony royalty, they liked to act like they were above it all so in our colony of less than 500 people who had nothing to do, we had nannies.” You can’t help but roll your eyes at the memory. He nods slowly but doesn’t ask for a follow up so you just ask your next question. “Did you like being a bounty hunter?” 

“I don’t really feel anything towards it. It was work, I didn’t hate it, I didn’t love it. I was just good at it.” He doesn’t even have his usual tone of arrogance, he says it like it’s a fact. “Did you choose to marry him?”

“Pass.” You respond way too quickly, and you know you’re practically giving him the answer by passing. But you don’t want to say it, don’t want him to feel sorry for you. “When do you eat and drink?” He chuckles again, Maker, you want to marry that laugh, you want to make love to that laugh, you want to bury yourself alive and die in that laugh. Nope, that’s not a normal thing friends think about each other you fucking weirdo.  

“When you aren’t looking.” 

“What? That doesn’t make any-”

“No follow up questions.”

You play for a long time, going back and forth until the sun is much lower in the sky. It’s exhilarating to have a real conversation go on this long, the two of you don’t even argue (for the most part.) He tells you so much about himself that you can hardly remember all of it, you keep a mental list of your favorite things. 

“Did you really read the Smitten Paladin?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have a little straw in your helmet so you can drink stuff?”

“No.”

“Do you sweat a lot in all those layers?”

“Sometimes.” 

“Is your name really Mando? Cause that’s, like, super convenient if it is.”

“It’s not.”

“What is your name?”

“Pass.” 

“What color is your hair?”

“Brown.”

Now you’re tied, whoever passes next loses. You had passed earlier when he had asked if you wanted the rest of your books back. Cocky son of a bitch. When you had asked if he had read them all he responded with, “ Not yet.” You need to win. So you think long and hard until you come to a question you’re sure he won’t answer. 

“Where are your quarters?” You give him a satisfied smirk, let's see him worm his way out of this one. 

“Why do you want to know?” 

Yikes. He’s got you there. Do friends usually ask friends where they sleep? Doesn’t matter, you’re so close to the win that you just deflect. 

“Are you gonna pass?” 

He takes a minute. A long minute, just staring at the lake, and you’re ready to accept the win when he points out past the water.

“There’s a cabin just on the edge of the pond. I live there.”

You’re so shocked he actually answered that you don’t even care that he didn’t pass, you squint and sure enough there it is, you’re surprised you didn’t see it before but it blends in so well with the trees. There’s a small cabin by the edge of the water. You have a million follow up questions but of course he cuts you off before you can ask any of them.

“What did you mean when you said I was your least favorite?”

Shit. You can’t believe he remembers that. Gods you don’t want to lose, and you can’t bring yourself to lie because you would always know your win wasn’t real and there’s no satisfaction in that. So you sigh.

“My first couple of days here I was very bored so I made a list of my favorite people here.” You can feel your face getting hot. He must be getting used to seeing you get red like this, it practically happens hourly at this point. “You used to be on the bottom of the list but now you aren’t.” 

“Where am I now?” There is no hurt in his voice, just speculation. He’s leaning closer to you now. You can’t help but close your eyes and just enjoy his smell for a fleeting moment. Smoke, metal, and fresh linen. That last one is a bit shocking, he must have other flight suits that all look the same. 

“No follow up questions.” You smirk. “How did you know I left my room that one night I snuck out to the library if you live across the lake?” 

“Pass.” You don’t even get to enjoy the win because you’re a little disappointed that you don’t get to know the answer. “You win princess.” He stands and holds out his arm again and you quickly take it as you start walking back in the direction of the trail. When had it gotten so dark? The sun was nearly set and you’d hardly even noticed. You’d spent the whole day out here. 

You want to ask your question immediately but the moment you open your mouth he speaks. 

“We should do this more often.” He sounds so carefree, it catches you off guard

“The game?”

“No, but we can do that as well if you’d like, but I meant getting out of the castle.” Honestly the thought of being out more often thrills you, you just aren’t sure what the rules for that are since you married into the royal family.

“I would love to get out to the garden more often.” You whisper it, almost just to yourself. 

“Not just the garden. Have you ever seen the rest of this planet?”

“No.” You haven’t even been off of the royal grounds. 

“Okay, new deal. On the first day of the week we go somewhere, even if it is just the gardens.” Your heart skips a beat. He has a day now, just like Kodo, Mando has his own day. You wish you could keep the dopey grin off your face. 

“Deal.”

You don’t speak until you're back inside the castle, you don’t even speak when you walk through the halls, you’ve finally found a comfortable silence with each other. You do of course unlink your arms, you don’t know why you both feel the need to pull away at the same time. After all you’re just friends, but you do anyway. Now you’re at the door to your chambers and Leo is waiting for you, impatiently tapping his foot. 

“You didn’t attend any of your meals.” His voice is short, clearly upset with you. You give him an apologetic look, and you are hungry. 

“Sorry… I guess I just lost track of time, if you bring dinner to my chambers I’ll eat now.” Normally you’d just go to the dining hall but you want one more moment alone with Mando. Leo eyes the two of you but takes his leave.

“As you wish, ma’am.” As he begins walking away you turn back to your steel companion. 

“You owe me one more question.” You grin up at him. You wish you could see if he was smiling too. 

“Ask away, princess.” He puts his hands on his hips as the helmet turns down towards you. 

“What does sarad'ika mean?” You say a silent prayer that this doesn’t ruin the perfect day you’ve had. He doesn’t respond or move for quite some time. Your stomach is in knots and you start mentally cursing yourself out for bringing this up again. But he clears his throat and when he does speak it’s so unexpectedly gentle you almost take a step back.

“In Mando’a, sarad means flower, or bloom, and ika means little.” 

Little flower. 

He had called you little flower. 

You don’t think friends call each other little flower. 

You honestly aren’t sure what to say so you just sort of nod, but you don’t want him to feel like he upset you so when you open the door to your room you turn back towards him one last time. 

“Thank you Mando. I had a really nice day.”

“Good night princess.”

“Good night.” You close the door. 

You wish he had called you sarad'ika again. ✩

The next three cycles are the best you’ve had so far. 

You don’t talk about your question and honestly that’s fine because you still aren’t sure how you feel about it. But being friends with Mando is nice, once you convince him that you aren’t going to bolt the second he looks away you actually get him to read a few books, you’re surprised he never picked something up until now considering how much time you two actually spend in the library. You stick with your fiction novels and are surprised to find how much he enjoys history books. He's a fast reader and matches your pace of a book or two a day. 

But it’s the fifth cycle of the week. Which means you’re dolled up in blue and you have dinner with your husband tonight. You haven’t seen Kodo since your last dinner when he humiliated you so you aren’t exactly excited. Something tells you Mando isn’t all that thrilled either, he’s quiet today. He’s always quiet until you get him going but you aren’t feeling chatty today so neither is he. You both read in silence for as long as you can until finally you can’t put it off any longer and you loudly slam your book shut and stand. 

“We should probably get going.” You smooth out the wrinkles in your dress from sitting so long. He doesn’t speak, only nodding as he stands, setting his book down on top of yours. You begrudgingly make your way down the hall and are thrown off by the amount of noise coming from the dining hall, when Mando opens the large doors for you you’re shocked to see nearly a dozen men eating, Kodo is seated at his typical spot, the head of the table and he stands as he sees you. 

“Wife! So good of you to join us! I thought I’d invite some of my brothers and cousins to dine with us tonight.” He’s just as drunk if not drunker than he was last time and much to your discomfort the rest of the men don’t seem much different. Taking a nervous step inwards Mando starts to close the doors once the two of you are inside. “One moment Mandalorian, you won’t be needed tonight. Afterall, it’s just family.” There’s suddenly ice in your veins. You spent so much time trying to get rid of him you hadn’t thought about what would happen when he wasn’t there to protect you.

“I’ve sworn myself to her, I’ll stay” A chill runs up your spine. You’d gotten so used to his voice being lighthearted and gentle that it sends a jolt through you to hear him speaking so sternly. You don’t recognize the tone, even from your first few days with him. More importantly, when the hell did he swear himself to you? Was that a part of the job Kodo was paying him to do? It seems a bit severe for a bodyguard gig. 

Kodo doesn’t seem in the slightest affected by the inflection of his voice even though the other men in the room look wary.

“I insist, Mandalorian. Take the night off.” He holds his cup towards the two of you before he sits back down and starts rambling to the men, seemingly picking up where he left off on some sort of hunting story. You turn, your eyes wide with worry towards Mando, you want to beg him to stay, you want you grab him by the shoulders and plead with him to not leave you alone but you know that he can’t. Even if he wanted to. It’s not like he can fight every royal family member, all the staff, and the half dozen battle droids that trailed behind Kodo. He turns to leave and you turn back towards the table but before he opens the door you hear him whisper just loud enough so only you can hear it. 

“I’ll be right outside. Nothing’s gonna happen to you.” And then he’s gone, the doors close with a loud thunk and you pull up a chair. 

Surprisingly Mando’s promise helps you relax, you sip your wine and you don’t have too bad of a time. It’s a miracle that the presence of all of Kodo’s relatives is a bit of a blessing. Sure, the room being full of men originally was absolutely terrifying but they keep his attention off of you and you quickly realize that they’re too scared to even look at you, you don’t understand that bit for a while until in an instant it clicks. 

You’re Kodo’s. 

He calls you wife because that’s all you are. You belong to him, therefore it would be an insult to Kodo to leer at you. As disheartening as that is, it's a bit of a relief and you’re able to enjoy most of your dinner until the servants come around and take your plates, which is a welcome sight because it means you can leave. Funnily enough you miss Mando standing behind your shoulder. You feel almost empty without him looming although you suppose you’re bound to feel that way after spending four full weeks by each other's sides. You’re eager to get back to him, to feel the safety of his presence and you’re about to stand up and leave when Kodo’s voice fills the room, commanding the attention of everyone present. 

“Isn’t she just a gem?” In the blink of an eye everyone's heads are turned towards you. “Such a pretty little thing,” His grin is viscous and the way he says it makes your skin crawl. “aren’t you princess?” You hate the way it sounds coming from his mouth, and not in the same way you “hate” it when Mando says it. You detest the way Kodo says it.

But he’s so drunk a small wind could knock him over. You can handle this. If you can tease a Mandalorian you can subdue a douche bag prince.

“Thank you, my prince.” You bite back the venom that inevitably tries to seep out. 

“Don’t you all think she’s lovely?” Once everyone's eyes are on you, you feel less confident. You wish he would just go back to calling you bland as the men nod and hum in agreement. You feel sick. It’s like having dinner with a dozen Kodo’s, they all have the same dull blonde hair and unpleasant voices. You’re preparing to leave again when what you assume is a cousin speaks up. He looks like he has a few years on Kodo and you know that the prince is the eldest of his brothers. 

“When do you plan on getting her pregnant?” 

You want to throw up. You can’t stand the way they talk about you like you aren’t even there. 

Kodo’s grin widens.

“I think we’ll wait. My father is still young and if her looks are her only redeeming quality, I'd like to keep them intact for as long as possible.” The table erupts in laughter and you think about throwing your wine glass at him. Would that be considered treason? You don’t know so you just tune them out, you know they’re still talking about you, they do for a while.

So you drink your wine and stare straight ahead. Now that Kodo has seemingly given them permission to speak of you they don’t stop. Every once in a while you’ll catch a sentence or two and you have to swallow down the bile that threatens to erupt from your throat. They’re shameless, and they’re vulgar. The only thing that keeps you seated is that you know that none of them will lay a hand on you. It’s the only perk to being seen as nothing more than an extension of your husband. They won’t touch you because you’re his. You have a hard time finding comfort in that fact. 

After what feels like an hour you stand up, your chair screeching loudly against the wood.

“I’m rather tired. I think I shall retire to my chambers.” You don’t bother hiding the repulsion from your voice but Kodo only smiles and nods as you turn to leave. 

“Goodnight, wife.”

“Goodnight, husband. ”

You don’t turn back around until you’re out of the room. 

You let out a sigh of relief once the doors are closed and immediately look for Mando, you don’t see him at first and a wave of betrayal washes over you. Did he leave? He had promised to stay. Could you even be mad at him for leaving? Kodo offered him the night off, he hasn’t had so much as an hour off since he started. You think back to what he had said weeks ago.

“You’re a full time job, sarad'ika.” 

You hadn’t even thought of how draining that must be until now. 

But he had promised. 

Stop being a cry baby, don’t act like some heartbroken little girl, you’re being overdramatic. 

You only get a few steps away from the dining hall when you almost trip over something and when you look down he’s there. He had been so still you’d missed him entirely. He’s too still. He should have said something by now, or gotten up. There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach as you look around. Kodo dismissed all the guards on this floor except for the several repurposed battle droids in the dining hall that served as his personal guard, there’s no one here to help you as you kneel down directly in front of him. His back is against the wall and his knees are bent, hands folded in front of him.

“...Mando?” you say it as delicately as you can manage, leaning your head forward so you’re in his direct line of sight. “Mando are you alright?” Is he shaking? “Mando, I need you to talk to me.” You can hear the anxiety in your own voice, echoing through the silent hallway. He doesn’t move so you just say fuck it and crawl between his legs so you can rest your ear against his chest, it isn’t easy with the chestplate but you settle in just above it. 

Maker, his heart is racing.

You pull back and stare into the helmet. The concern is apparent in your expression as you place both hands on the sides of his helmet as you would when holding someone's face. His chest is rising and falling too fast.

“Can you breathe Mando? I need you to talk to me, can you breathe through the helmet?”

Fuck you can’t tell. You lean in closer, resting your temple against the Beskar until you can hear his breaths. The modulator isn’t even picking them up, you’re hearing them through the steel.

It sounds like he’s hyperventilating. 

“It’s me Mando. I need you to tell me you're okay or I’m going to have to take your helmet off to make sure you can breathe.” Gods, you don’t want to have to do this. You whisper your own name a few times to him. “It’s me Mando, I’m right here.” You’re about to do it, you don’t know what other options you have so you squeeze your eyes shut tight and grip the steel of his helmet and take in a deep breath, in the beat of silence before you can bring yourself to do it you hear the modulator crackle.

“Are you hurt? It’s like he’s just waking up as his hands fly to your hips, holding onto you like he can’t even believe you’re real. The modulator barely picks up his murmur. But you drop your hands down and rest them on his shoulders as you sigh in relief. Thank the stars.

“No, I’m okay.” 

He’s nearly incoherent as he speaks softly and quickly you barely catch most of it, the modulator doesn’t pick up the majority of it so you have to listen closely to hear his voice through the helmet, he’s still struggling to catch his breath.

“I didn’t know what to do… never felt so useless… never frozen up before… could hear everything… to rip his tongue out… talked about you like that… if any of them had touched… would have broken down that damn door … wouldn’t care about the stupid droids…”

All animosity you had ever felt towards the man in front of you vanished, even if temporary. Because that’s all he was right now. He wasn’t the Mandalorian, right now he was only a man. 

“I’ve never… don’t understand what… wanted to stay… what if you… too many droids…” You press your forehead against his helmet to try and hear better and you finally manage to put together a couple sentences. “I couldn’t just go in, because if I got hurt, who would look after you? I can’t protect you from a jail cell, I’ve never had to worry about that before…”

You can’t take the way his voice shakes so you hold his helmet in your hands again and tilt it upwards to meet your gaze.

“Hey… I am okay.” You enunciate each word as you stare into the strip of black. “Nothing happened, I am unharmed.” You take his hand in yours and bring it up to your face so it cradles your cheek. “See? I’m okay, nothing happened to me. And if something was going to happen to me you would stop it. Okay?”

You sit like that for several minutes. Knelt between his legs, rubbing your thumb gently against the helmet as his unmoving hand rests on your face. 

It takes him a while but his breathing finally seems to level out. When he speaks again he’s loud enough for the modulator to pick up and it’s jarring how normal he suddenly sounds. 

“It’s late, you should be in bed.” 

“Okay.” You’re just happy he’s okay.

Although now you feel a bit self conscious about the position the two of you are in. But it’s like he reads your mind as he puts his hands on your waist and easily lifts you as he gets to his feet. You don’t have a chance to say anything before he’s already walking. You just follow, and when you arrive he opens the door to your chambers for you. 

You want so desperately to speak. You want to comfort him, you want to say anything to let him know that you’re okay, that he’s okay, but he speaks first. 

“Good night princess.” He says it with a finality that lets you know that there will be no further discussion on what just happened. That tomorrow you will act as if this never happened. But you don’t want that.

“Good night, Mando.” 

He waits for you to close the door, you wait for him to walk away. But neither of those things happen. So instead, because the two of you are just friends, you open the door a little wider. 

“Do you wanna come in?”

I am no longer doing taglists so follow @lincolndjarinnotifs and turn on notifications to be notified when new chapters are posted !!

[soaringthroughthegalaxy]

Hello :) if your requests are still open:

This is my first time requesting something so please ignore this if I‘m doing something wrong.

I saw the 150 Random Writing Prompts and was thinking of a jealous Hunter smut. (Or Echo, if you find it more fitting)

With

143.: “Are you trying to turn me on or are you really just that oblivious?”

And if it’s ok ( I could not decide, sorry)

97.: if you interrupt me one more time— so help me god”

93.: say you want me, and i’m yours.”

Thanks 🙏🏻 You are an awesome writer!✨

Thank you so much for the request, anon! You did nothing wrong at all! I was able to work in all three, but I’m incapable of writing anything short, so this is kinda long - oops. Hope you like it! <3

Bonus point if you spot the Taylor Swift lyric I managed to weave in!

Green Doesn’t Suit You

With the whole squad safely back on Pabu, you settle into a comfortable civilian life. But the yearly Celestialis festival, said to bring good fortune for the next year to those who attend, brings with it something you never thought you’d have.

Pairing: Hunter x f!reader

Word count: 6.5k

Rating: 18+ MINORS DNI!

Warnings: jealousy, friends to lovers, pet names, old lady shoving her oar in, Omega is a fantastic wing-woman, confessions of love, first kiss together, squint for possessiveness, being (lovingly) manhandled, first time together, oral (f!receiving), unprotected PiV, dirty talk, soft aftercare, all the fluffy feels.

The air was stifling, not only from the heat outside but the warmth emanating from both ovens in the kitchen of your new home on Pabu.

The house had been a gift – the fanciest gift you’d ever received – from Shep and the other island residents. A thank you for all the hard work you, the boys, and Omega had put into rebuilding their island after the freak tsunami.

All seven of you, living together in a space infinitely bigger than the Marauder or your old barracks. It was heaven.

“We still need to get those tanks moved.” Omega grumbled, grabbing a clean tray and loading it with the latest batch of cooled cookies you’d made. In the sitting room, just visible through the kitchen doorway, were two bacta tanks. Where Phee had managed to procure them from was still a mystery, but they’d saved Crosshair and Tech’s lives after you, Hunter, Echo, and Wrecker had stormed Mount Tantiss to rescue Omega and the twins. The brothers had been worse for wear – it was still a miracle Tech had survived his fall.

“I’ll speak to Phee in the morning.” You added it to your mental list, skirting around an open cabinet door.

Today was the Celestialis festival, where Pabu’s residents came together to wish for good fortune for the year ahead. Once Shep and the island’s organising committee had caught wind of how good your baking skills were, they’d pulled you into the fray. For weeks, you’d been planning and purchasing ingredients and trying different recipes. And for the last few days, you’d been baking all hours of day and night – with varying levels of assistance from Omega and her brothers.

Four years ago, when the war had broken out, you’d signed up as a civilian handler. Fresh out of college and with nothing lined up, it had seemed like a good idea. While other handlers stayed on Kamino and supported their squads from a distance, the moment you’d read the files for Clone Force 99, you’d known that you’d need to be at their side constantly. They had a habit of veering off track, and handling that from afar would only give you a permanent migraine. So, after signing a hefty waiver with the Kaminoans, you’d been handed some armour, a blaster, and directions to the hangar.

Three years, you’d fought alongside them, learning the best ways to manage them and their unique skill set, building bonds and friendships far deeper and more meaningful than anything you’d ever had before. This last year, since Order 66, had brought its own challenges, too, but it has also brought you Omega.

Grabbing another tray from a cupboard, you pass it over to the young girl, watching as she loads it up with more cookies. Sweat beads on the nape of your neck, and you sigh, lifting your hair to try and get some air to it.

Omega, forever perceptive, abandons the cookies to help tie your hair back. From a small pot on the counter, she goes to grab a hairband, but at the last minute, you redirect her to the strip of fabric that sits nearby, the two of you sharing a look.

It’s another hour before you’re ready to leave for the festival. The boys had headed out mid-afternoon to help set up, taking their dressier clothes with them to spare themselves the walk back to the house and to not get in your way as you finished up. As infuriating and stubborn as they could all be at times, their thoughtfulness was unparalleled.

Dragging wagons laden with treats up to the central plaza, you and Omega work quickly to lay out all the goodies on the tables Shep had set aside for you. You hoped there would be enough for everyone, especially as other food was on offer, too. Stepping back from the tables, you take a deep breath.

“Finally left the kitchen, eh?” Echo teases as he approaches, the rest of the boys in tow. He’d tried to help as best as he could over the last few days, but baking with one hand had been less than ideal. Ultimately, he’d sat at the kitchen table and kept you going with conversation and caff breaks. And he’d chased Hunter off a few times when that keen nose of his had brought him sniffing around for treats to ‘sample.’

You watch as Omega passes a star-shaped cookie over to Wrecker, and the delight on the big man’s face as he devours it fills you with pride. “If I step foot in that kitchen again at any point in the next two weeks, please shoot me.” You joke, the corners of your lips curling into a smile.

“Deal.” Crosshair teases, toothpick sliding to the other side of his mouth as he reaches for a Roonan lemon cookie. His appetite hadn’t returned much since his rescue from Mount Tantiss and time in the bacta tank, but he was trying to eat a little more each day so you wouldn’t worry about him.  

“Hey!” You protest playfully, the boys chuckling as Crosshair takes a small bite, throwing you a wink. Light conversation flows between you all, broken up by the occasional island resident swinging by for some treats. The music starts, and more residents arrive, joining the festival’s spirit, dancing together and laughing.

Hunter can’t keep his eyes off you. For the last four years, he’s seen you in blacks and armour, with the recent addition of sweatpants around the house, and yet now you’re in a dress. A light and airy thing with delicate straps that cross over your shoulders, the fabric cinched in at your waist to accentuate the soft curves of your body. He’s sure it’s the same shade of aqua that paints his pauldrons, too. The thought has a strange sensation sweeping through his gut.

The sound of someone calling your name snatches his attention and drags his thoughts back to the present. As you turn towards the person calling for you, he can’t help but steal the opportunity to admire you. Eyes raking up your bare legs, across your hips and ass that he’s imagined grasping many times, over the smooth plane of your back to the curve of your neck and then…

The entire galaxy might as well cease to exist as his mind goes blank.

Wide brown eyes lock onto the scrap of red fabric keeping your hair up, and that strange sensation in his gut slams into him again. There, holding your hair up, is one of his spare bandanas.

His heart races, thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind. A torrent of emotions surges within him. He wants to reach out to you, to pull you close and finally tell you how much you mean to him, but he holds himself back. He can't bear the thought of you not returning the sentiment. Maybe it had just been an accident. Maybe his bandana had been the closest thing available.

In the silence of his thoughts, he missed you excusing yourself to talk with one of the island’s elderly residents, who’d been calling you over.

“Smooth.” Crosshair deadpans, gaze flicking to Hunter as they watch you go, the rest of their siblings distracted by the food and music.

The slink of his brother’s voice pulls Hunter from his thoughts, and he frowns in Crosshair’s direction. “What?” He asks. They’d worked hard to reconcile ever since Crosshair had been deemed stable enough to leave the bacta tank – they’d broached difficult topics and mended a few bridges as they worked towards getting back to what they’d had before the Order had been given. It was slow and, at times, painful, but neither of them was willing to give up on each other again.

“You were staring at her like she’s pure aurodium. Not that I blame you…” Hawkish eyes slide towards Hunter, a smirk tugging at Crosshair’s lips as he watches his brother’s jaw clench and his head tilt, a hardness settling across his features.

Crosshair lets out a low chuckle, enjoying the slight rise he’d secured. “Green doesn’t suit you, vod.” He tosses the comment before snatching up a few more of your baked treats, striding away in search of a quiet place to perch. Crowds still bothered him, but he didn’t want to avoid the gathering altogether and feel like even more of an outcast.

Across the plaza, you’d reached Mrs. Magiere. The elderly lady had lived on the island for years and had slowly convinced her family to move across the galaxy and join her. She wandered the island around lunchtime, and you’d often crossed paths, sharing polite conversation.

Beside her stood an unfamiliar man. “There you are, dear. I want to introduce you to my grandson, Dax.” Mrs. Magiere reached for your hand, drawing you closer.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Dax.” You offered the man a smile. He was a little taller than you, with a slender build, perfectly coifed brown hair and piercing green eyes.

Dax tries to keep his gaze on your face, but his eyes betray him for a moment as he takes all of you in. You’re quite lovely, he must admit. “And you. My grandmother speaks very fondly of you.” He replies.

Mrs. Magiere looks between you both with glee. “Why don’t you two go and dance? My old bones can’t keep up anymore.” One of her hands finds your lower back, and she gives you a gentle nudge towards Dax.

Warmth sweeps across your cheeks caught off guard and a little uncomfortable, but Dax offers you a reassuring smile and his hand. Not wanting to cause a scene or upset anyone, you take it, letting him lead you towards the plaza’s centre where couples and families are dancing. He stops en route, snagging a delicate pink flower from one of the blossoming vines nearby. With careful hands, he slides it into your hair, leaning back to admire you.

“And here I thought you couldn’t be any more beautiful.” The compliment comes naturally to Dax as he retakes your hand, leading you to a small available spot amongst the dancing island residents.  

The warmth in your cheeks grows, and all you can offer Dax is a small smile as he twirls you into his arms once you are amongst the crowd. Laughing softly, you let him lead, the few dance classes you’d taken at college helping you keep up with him.

“You did a wonderful job with the baked goods.” Dax lays another compliment on you, enjoying your bashful smile.

It felt good to be appreciated for all your hard work preparing for this evening, especially by those outside of your little family. “Thank you. What did you like the most?”

Turmoil rolls through Dax. Truth told, he hadn’t sampled any of the treats you’d so lovingly prepared, but he knew it was essential to compliment you. “The oat ones were delicious.” He takes a stab in the dark.

Your smile falters briefly before you fix it back into place. “I’m glad.” You lie in return, not pointing out that you hadn’t made oat cookies.

Standing off at the side of the plaza, it took no time for Hunter to find you amongst the crowd. Over the years, he’d memorised the sound of your heartbeat and the delicate whisper of your voice as the light breeze carried it to him. His eyes found you, and his brows furrowed as he watched you gracefully twirl in the arms of another man, a torrent of emotions churning within him. Jealousy, like a venomous snake, coiled around his heart, injecting poison into his every thought.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. The woman he loved, whose smile could light up his darkest days, was now smiling at someone else. Insecurity gnawed at him, an unpleasant feeling he thought he’d long buried during his cadet days.

He longed to be the one guiding you across the dance floor, holding you as though you were the most precious thing in the galaxy. The realisation that someone else was experiencing that privilege grated on him.

“I don’t like him.” Omega’s voice snapped Hunter from his spiralling thoughts, and he glanced down to see her standing at his side, her own eyes watching you and the unfamiliar man dance.

“Hm, neither do I.” Hunter comments, arms crossed over his chest as he watches you twirl again.

It was no secret to Omega how much you and Hunter loved one another, and she was getting tired of neither of you doing anything about it. “Then, why don’t you go dance with her?” She asked, injecting as much innocence into her voice as she could muster, wide eyes turning up to look at her brother.

Hunter sighed. Omega had a point – he could quickly end this torture.

“Mind if I cut in?” The smoky rasp of Hunter’s voice interrupted your dance, and you turned towards him, offering him a bright smile.

The smile Dax had been wearing dissipated, a faint clench to his jaw as he shook his head while the music changed to something softer. “Not at all.” He lied, taking his hands from you. His grandmother had told him about the man who’d interrupted, with half of his face shrouded in darkness, and had warned him that you were close. Not willing to go easily, Dax lifted one of your hands to his lips, holding your gaze as he pressed a kiss to the back of it before stepping away a small distance. He’d wait nearby for another turn.

Your bright smile turned a little uneasy as Dax pressed a kiss to your hand, but relief had your shoulders sagging as Hunter stepped forward, sliding one arm around your waist to pull you close, your hand resting on his shoulder. He took your other hand with his free one, fingers interlacing. “Thank you for the save.” You murmured gratefully, knowing that with his hearing, you didn’t need to raise your voice to be heard above the music.

“Always.” Hunter’s answer leaves no room for doubt as he gently leads, moving you both in a slow sway. He can’t help but revel in your closeness. Every touch, every brush of your hand against his, feels electrifying, making his heart race with desire. Your warm body is pressed to his, his senses overwhelmed with you.

Warmth and security flood your body with the press of Hunter’s hand on your lower back, igniting a desire to be even closer. The rest of the galaxy can’t reach you here, tucked safely in his arms, and for a moment, you allow yourself to forget about everything that’s happened over the last four years – all the pain and bloodshed, all the horrors and tears. Through it all, Hunter has been a steady presence.

As you sift through the good memories, certain moments stand out. There was that day at the lake on Kintan, where the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The two of you had sat side by side, another successful mission under your belt, your laughter dancing in the air. You remember stealing glances at him, the way the sunlight had caught in his eyes, adding more warmth than you thought possible to those endless pools of brown.

Then there were the late-night conversations while you were deep in hyperspace, where you’d lose track of time, sharing dreams, fears, and secrets. Hunter’s voice, soft yet determined, painted a vivid picture of what he wanted from life after the war.

You could only hope those wants had changed.

Hunter drew his senses in, letting the crowd in the plaza fade into the background as he focused on you, the steadiness of your heartbeat, the feel of your hand in his and your bodies pressed together, and the subtle change to your scent. “You smell different.” He comments, curious eyes finding yours.

“If anyone else said that to me, I’d stomp on their foot.” You laugh, a little caught off guard by the statement. “I…” You trail off, the warmth that had faded from your cheeks now returning. “I stopped wearing perfume while knee-deep in the war, but now we’re out the other side of it. I thought I might try it again.” You admit, head dipping bashfully, before worry laces through you. “Is it too much? I aimed for something I hoped wouldn’t bother you and your senses.”

Lips parting at your answer, Hunter blinks with disbelief. Here you were in a sweet little dress, one of his bandanas keeping your hair up, and now you’d dropped on him that you were wearing a perfume picked out with his heightened senses in mind. He groans, desire churning through his veins. “Are you trying to turn me on, or are you really just that oblivious?” 

Freezing, you think for a moment that you’ve misheard him. “What?” You question softly.

Hunter realises his mistake, but it’s too damn late to take the words back. 

In the following pause, neither of you moving, simply staring at one another, Dax spots his opportunity and steps forward. “Can I cut back in?”

Hunter has to actively stop himself from grunting in frustration at the interruption. “We’re not done.” He tells him politely, making sure to keep his eyes on you. He knows he has to say something to you. “Cyar’ika, I…”

Dax huffs, finding it unfair that this man had swooped in and stolen you mid-dance and refused to let him back in. “Look, bud-“

Something snaps in Hunter, and his head whips to the side, eyes narrowing at the man you’d been dancing with. “If you interrupt me one more time, so help the Maker…” He growls out the threat, no longer caring that he’s being rude. This was too important. You were too important.

Your jaw drops, and you watch in disbelief as Hunter threatens Dax. Your heart races, and for a moment, the tension in the air is palpable. Dax, a bit taken aback by Hunter’s sudden intensity, raises his hands in a placating gesture.

“Whoa, whoa, man.” Dax stammers, realising he’s pushed Hunter’s patience to the limit. He steps back, allowing some space between him and the seething clone.

Hunter takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, regaining his composure. He turns back to you, his eyes softening as he tries to find the right words. "Cyar'ika, I'm sorry. It’s just... I need to talk to you.”

Your heart still races, but now it’s not just from the tension between the two men. You look into Hunter’s eyes searchingly. “What is it?” you ask, your voice filled with concern.

Keeping hold of your hand, Hunter leads you away from the crowd, finding a quiet corner of the plaza where you can talk in peace. The silence lingers for a few minutes as he struggles to find the right words, scrubbing his free hand over his face, having never anticipated this moment would come. 

Unable to bear seeing him so stressed, you step closer, resting a hand against his chest. His heart thuds heavy under your palm. “H…” You breathe the little nickname you’d given him shortly after joining them all those years ago, which breaks him out of his funk. 

“You’re a kaleidoscope of everything beautiful in this galaxy.” He blurts out, catching you off guard. “Your kindness, the way you listen, how you look after everyone around you — you’ve had me captivated since the day you waltzed onto the Marauder like you owned the damn thing and introduced yourself. And now, it’s terrifying to think of my life without you in it.” Once the words start, he can’t stop them.

“And I know we’ve been friends for years, and I value that more than anything in the galaxy. But seeing him dance with you and thinking of him doing it again…” Hunter huffs, trying desperately not to get worked up. “I mean, cyar’ika, the colour…” He gestures to your dress with his free hand. “And you’re using my bandana to keep your hair up, and you picked out a perfume with me in mind...” He trails off, knowing he’s shared so much that he can’t return from it, but Maker does it feel good to get the weight off his shoulders.

A small smile weaves onto your lips, even though you know you shouldn’t be happy, given the man you love is clearly stressed. “What if I told you none of it was accidental?” You murmur, your hand on his chest smoothing across the firm plane of muscle. “That you didn’t misplace your right pauldron the other week – I borrowed it to colour match. And I purposefully asked Omega to use your bandana earlier when she was tying up my hair.” You confess, eyes darting up to watch as surprise paints itself on his handsome features.

“You know, I’ve spent countless nights replaying moments in my head, wondering if you ever picked up on how my heart races when you’re near or how I can’t keep my eyes off you when we’re together. I didn’t want to make things awkward or ask for something neither of us could give in the middle of a war. But we’ve made it out the other side, so…” It’s your turn to trail off.

Your words hung in the air, and Hunter’s heart began to race, his body swirling with so many emotions it was difficult to grasp onto any of them. A rush of warmth surged through him, from the tips of his fingers to the depths of his soul. Gazing into your eyes, all he finds is pure, unwavering honesty. Your sincerity was a balm to his fears.

Hunter’s silence unnerves you, but you’re not backing out now. Not when the promise of something so much sweeter is tantalisingly close. “Say you want me, and I’m yours.” You whisper.

Hunter’s gaze never wavers from yours, and a flicker of relief crosses his eyes as he realises that this isn’t a cruel joke or an illusion. It’s real. The tension between you seems to crackle with anticipation as he takes a deep breath, finally finding the words he’s been searching for. “I’ve wanted you since the day you walked onto the Marauder.” He admits softly, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. “I’ve tried to be strong, to protect you and the rest of the squad, to not let my feelings get the better of me. But I can’t deny it any longer. I want you with every beat of my heart, every breath I take.”

His confession sends a shiver down your spine, and you can feel the intensity of his desire in the way he holds you and the way he looks at you. There’s no turning back now.

With a slow, deliberate movement, Hunter leans in, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. The world around you fades into obscurity, and it’s just the two of you finally giving in to the magnetic pull that has existed between you for so long. The kiss is a promise, a declaration of all the unspoken feelings and desires built up over the years.

As your lips parted, Hunter rested his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged with emotion. “I want you, and I’m yours.” He whispers, his voice filled with love and longing.

A radiant smile spreads across your face, and you reply, “I’m yours too, Hunter. Always.”

His smile matches your own as he pulls back a little, though his fingers remain on your face, now stroking across your jawline. “Want to get out of here?”

Teeth sinking into your lower lip, you nod. “Thought you’d never ask.”

Hunter’s eyes twinkle with excitement and relief as he takes your hand and leads you away from the plaza, slipping down side streets towards your home. As you walk hand in hand, you can feel the electric connection between you two, a spark that has finally ignited into a full-blown flame.

Halfway there, Hunter pulls you close, wrapping his arms around your waist as he tucks you against the side of a building, his lips finding yours. His kisses are hungry, filled with longing and desire, as if he’s been waiting forever for this moment. And in truth, he feels like he has.

As the kiss breaks, your laughter echoes in the stillness of the night, smile as bright as the stars above as he disentangles from you, drawing you out of the shadows and back towards the house. As you reach the front door, he stops, his free hand moving to your hair, plucking the flower from Dax free. Carelessly, he drops it to the floor.

“Hunter!” You exclaim, watching the delicate bloom hit the pebbled path beneath your feet.

Something dark shines in his eyes, sending a thrill through you. “The only things in your hair should be my bandana,” his hand reaches for your ponytail, giving it a gentle tug as he leans in, lips ghosting the shell of your ear. “Or my hands.”

Breath catching, Hunter’s lips meet yours for a passionate kiss. The front door is pushed open, and you’re guided inside, steady hands grasping at your hips as he kicks the door shut behind you both.

Heart thudding as both of Hunter’s hands cup your face; you sink into his touch as his tongue slides between your lips, tasting you. He leads you up the stairs, refusing to break the kiss for even a moment as you reach his room. One hand leaves your face to push the bedroom door shut, and a moment later, you’re pressed up against it, Hunter’s body pining you in place, an arm resting on the door above your head, caging you in. That earlier sense of safety creeps back through you.

Tearing his lips from yours, Hunter’s chest heaves with each breath, a fire licking its way through his veins as you both open your eyes, gazing at one another for a split second. His head dips, mouth leaving a trail of delicate kisses along your throat, groaning as you tilt to give him better access, the prettiest moan sliding from your lips as he laves a kiss to the juncture where your shoulder and neck meet, following it with a quick, gentle nip.

Knees shaking, your fingers find the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one until you can push the fabric off his body. The rough pads of his fingers drag across your bare thighs, breath stuttering as the hem of your dress meets his grasp. He breaks contact just long enough to lean back and lift the garment over your head, letting it fall to the floor.

“Fuck…” Hunter curses quietly, eyes roving over your exposed body, the curves and dips of your frame, the swell of your bare breasts. A needy groan escapes him as he realises your panties match the dress, too.

Before self-consciousness can creep in, he’s dragging you to the bed with a hungry kiss, pushing you back onto it, kiss breaking as your back meets the soft mattress. For a moment, you both pause, drinking the other in. There’s a wildness in Hunter’s eyes you’ve never seen before, a warmth in your cheeks at how his eyes devour you. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times – while sparring or coming out of the fresher, changing, or patching up wounds, but now you can look.

His broad shoulders taper to his narrow waist, and his tanned, toned skin begs to be touched. Half of him is shrouded in black ink, and a burning desire to drag your nails over the ridges of his abs has you licking your lips.

Hunter’s not faring much better, either. The sight of you sprawled on his bed in nothing but a scrap of aqua fabric, lips kiss-swollen, his bandana still in your hair, and your gorgeous tits exposed has him itching to fuck you on every surface, to fill the room with the scent of your arousal and make you scream his name over and over again. “Don’t mind me, just enjoying the view.” Hunter breaks the momentary silence, reaching down to palm himself through his pants.

The action draws your gaze downwards, and you watch delightfully as the man you love gives himself a stroke through the fabric.

Hunter’s nostrils flare, picking up on how the simple action drew more of your heady scent from between your thighs. At the foot of the bed, he slowly sinks down onto his knees, eyes never once leaving you. If you smell that delicious, he can only imagine how you’ll taste.

Propped up on your forearms, you watch as Hunter sinks down between your thighs, those warm brown eyes focused solely on you. Fingers skim up your calves, feather-light, gently pressing your legs wider as they reach your knees. His head turns inwards, gazes breaking as he presses soft kisses to your thighs, tongue leaving small, slow licks in their wake. He takes his time savouring you, savouring the moment.

Lips brush across the juncture between your thigh and hip, sucking small marks against your skin before Hunter buries his face against your clothed pussy, eyes shut as he presses his nose against your clit, inhaling deeply. Your scent pulls a low growl from him, the vibrations making you gasp. “So wet already. I’ll take good care of you, I promise.” Hunter vows, tongue pressing forward to lick across the damp fabric of your panties, making your breath stutter at the contact as your head thunks back down onto the mattress, eyes screwing shut.

Fingers prying the material down your legs, Hunter dives back between your thighs, dragging the flat of his tongue through your soaked folds, delighting in the way your hips buck and you cry out. He was right; you taste even more delicious than you smell, and he groans at your tang on his tongue.

Drawing your legs over his shoulders, he settles in, licking long, broad strokes across your pussy, familiarising himself with you. His senses home in on you, mind cataloguing every slight noise you make, every jerk of your hips, the way your breath quickens when his tongue skirts oh so close to your entrance and then circles around your clit.

Needy little whines escape you, every nerve in your body alight as Hunter teases you, lips and tongue exploring you, his nose bumping against your clit to send sparks of desire surging through you. Warmth pools in your belly, and it only grows as the wet warmth of his tongue presses against your entrance, dipping in. “Hunter…” You moan out his name, fingers burrowing into his hair as you cant your hips, grinding against his face.

Pride blooms in Hunter’s chest at your response, and he keeps going a little longer before he flicks his tongue up and across your clit, the sounds of your cries of delight like music to his ears. Hands grasping at your thighs, he presses your legs up, almost folding you in half as his tongue sweeps side to side, teasing his way back down your pussy as he has greater access.

The change in angle makes you moan, free hand clawing at the sheets while your hips rock, chasing the delight of his mouth. A light suck on your clit makes you gasp, the warmth in your belly building with every swipe of his talented tongue. Dragging his tongue around the edge of your folds, he draws an arch, skirting around the top of your clit again. “Hunter, please.” You crack, desperate for him.

You feel him smile against you, releasing one of your thighs, fingers roaming up your body until his tattooed hand gently squeezes one of your breasts. His mouth is relentless, tongue finding your clit, firmly moving side to side over the sensitive bud as those talented fingers of his tweak your pebbled nipple.

The warmth crescendos, spilling over, and you cry out his name as your release slams into you, making your body shudder, gasping for breath at its intensity.

Hunter works you through the high, and as you whine at the overstimulation, his mouth leaves you, fingers letting go of your nipple to smooth over the soft skin of your breast. “Beautiful.” He whispers reverently, tongue darting out to lick his lips and drink up the taste of you as he watches you come down from the high, your heavy-lidded eyes opening to meet his gaze.

With your hand in his hair, you guide him up your body, small hums of delight leaving you as he peppers kisses across your stomach and chest, laving little licks across your breasts as he drags you further up the bed. He breaks away for a second, using one hand to remove his belt and shuck off his pants.

You watch as he strips completely, acres of tanned skin finally revealed. As he ditches his boxers, his hard cock springs free, and your tongue darts out to wet your lips, thighs parting a little wider. You relish the low groan the action pulls from him before he takes himself in hand, fist sliding along his shaft for a few pumps. He’s average in length but thicker than you expected - anticipation coils through you.

He prowls up the bed, settling above you, letting a little of his weight rest against you. Dark eyes meet yours, and you can’t hold back your smile, fingers reaching up to trace along his face. Drawing his head down, you steal a kiss, letting the moment build as your eyes flutter shut, tongues brushing together. Hunter shifts above you, resting his weight on one hand while the other dips between your bodies, fingers wrapping around his cock as he teases the velvety head through your soaked folds. Achingly slowly, he presses forward, your lips parting as you let out a soft moan at the stretch as he eases into you inch by inch.

“That’s it, cyar’ika. Maker, you’re so pretty, taking all of me like a good girl.” He whispers against your lips, enjoying how your breathing changes and your heart races at his words. You feel like heaven as he bottoms out, hips flush against you, chests pressed together as his hand moves back to the side of your head, redistributing his weight.

The stretch as Hunter fills you is exquisite, and your eyes open to gaze up at him in awe that this is happening – that this incredible man is yours. The first slow roll of his hips has your head tilting backwards, a breathy sigh filling the room.

The pace builds, your hands reaching for him, dragging up his back and down his flanks, nails scraping along flushed skin, making him grunt at the combination of pleasure and pain. Desire coils through you, building with every thrust of his hips, every drag of his cock as he pulls out to the tip and pushes back in. He leans down to kiss you, demanding tongue sliding between your lips to taste you.

“You’re so good for me, so fucking good around me. Made for me.” Hunter growls and the sound of your bodies meeting creates a background of white noise. “Won’t last long, baby. You feel too good. Fucking dreamed of this.” He adds, supporting his weight with one hand again, thrusts never faltering as he reaches down to grasp one of your legs, hauling it up. He presses a kiss to your ankle before he pushes your leg towards your chest, the change in angle enabling him to thrust into you even deeper.

Eyes falling shut once again as he drives you closer to the edge, you whine and whimper as his cock repeatedly rubs against your g-spot. The hand he’d used to pry your leg up moves to your breast, fingers tweaking your pebbled nipple again before he gently squeezes. Your name falls from his lips, raspy alongside his command. “Come for me.”

Between his hands, cock, and voice, you’re powerless to resist. Fingers scrambling at his body for purchase, your back arches as you cry out his name, desire bubbling over into a rush of euphoria that sweeps through your body and momentarily renders you speechless. Tremors wrack through you, toes curling as you desperately pant for breath, hazy eyes opening to look up at him.

Feeling you come apart, watching you fall into pleasure beneath him, was more than Hunter could’ve ever asked for. You were beautiful every day, but lost in the throes of an orgasm he’d given you? You were divine. He could feel the pressure building, feel himself teetering on that edge.

“Where?” The roughness of Hunter’s voice caresses you, warm puffs of his breath tickling your ear from where he’s bent down to bring you both even closer, caging you under him as his thrusts grow sloppy, muscles taut under your hands.

“In me, please.” You whisper back, and the deep moan he lets out will forever be seared into your mind.

Hunter gives a few final thrusts before he presses in as deep as he can, a guttural sound leaving him as his eyes screwed shut, thighs shaking as he hits his own peak, the pressure evaporating into molten bliss as he gives you everything. Slowly, the pleasure pulls back, like the tide, and he swallows thickly as his eyes open, breath catching at the sight of you.

You’re gazing up at him like he hung all the stars in the galaxy, indescribable love woven through your features. Carefully, he lowers your raised leg, fingers rubbing to return some of the feeling as his lips meet yours with a tenderness that could only come from years of shared moments, mouths moving in perfect harmony, a slow, sensuous exploration of one another.

Hand sliding to your waist, Hunter holds you still as he gently eases himself out of you, shifting to lay on his side, drawing you against his chest.

You nestle into his embrace. Your fingers trace the contours of his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath. The years of laughter and tears, the countless shared experiences, and the trust built over time have all culminated in this moment.

Hunter presses a sweet kiss to your forehead, and you can feel the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. He draws lazy circles on your back, a comforting motion that brings you a sense of security and belonging.

With your bodies pressed together, you both revel in the aftermath of your lovemaking. The room is filled with a peaceful stillness, and you listen to the soft melody of your combined breaths, knowing that this love is the anchor that holds you both steady in a still-turbulent galaxy.

[notquitecanon]

Sacrifice & Devotion // Din Djarin x Reader

Hurt comfort lil fic

here's a fun lil game of spot the dialogue I stole from criminal minds!

tw: no mentions of gender, mention and description of canon typical injury, mention of canon typical violence, reader is a bounty hunter, specifically a sniper, unedited, written in one sitting while I pulled an all nighter

fics where two idiots who are obviously in love are so terrible at pretending to not be in love that it circles back around to one of them thinking its unrequited/being so oblivious they still don't notice are my bread and butter

Summary: Reader and Mando both have insecurities that are starting to boil over and cause some heavy miscommunication. It takes a blaster wound for them to talk it out.

You had stalked off to lick you wounds before the Crest’s engines even cooled, finding a cozy rooftop with a good view of the city, dark enough to feel concealed but enough ligh to tend to yourself. 

Mando hadn’t been able to catch you, he had to deliver proof of service to your contractors. The waiting credits were much needed to repair the ship’s latest malfunctions if either of you wished to leave this system in the next rotation. 

Not to mention the med pac that would need replenishing after you were done. In favor of not bleeding out, you had started with the most severe, the blaster wound to your shoulder. The med scanner had informed you it was primarily superficial, but was at risk of infection. 

You sniffed, for something so superficial, the wound sure was leaking blood like a broken tap. The scanner had suggest a bacta infusion, but after your last hunt, the last bacta infusion was only half full. Still, even half would slow the bleeding and lower the risk of infection. You hissed after spraying it with a coagulant and then cursed with the auto-injector of the syringe delivered the half dose of bacta. Next, you moved onto bandages, wrapping the gauze in looping circles. 

Metal clinked quietly behind you, alerting you to your company. Mando hovered in the shadows until you turned halfway towards him, like he didn’t want to startle you but also didn’t want to attract you frustration if you hadn’t cooled off yet. 

His modulator didn’t hide the concern in his voice, even if he tried to, “Those are too loose, you’ll get an infection.” 

“Well, are you gonna lurk in the shadows or come help me?” You sighed, nodding to the other discarded cargo crate beside the one you had pulled into the light, “How’d you find me?” 

Mando looked around as he approached and sat beside you, like it was obvious, “Easily accessible rooftop, city views and eyes on the ship. Removed but still involved. Sniper’s paradise.”  

You tried to ignore the flush of heat up your neck, sometimes between the very few words Mando spoke it was easy to forget  how astute his observations could be. It always shocked you when he voiced his perceptions of you, and flustered you when they were correct. So you cleared your throat, “Where’s the kid?”

The bounty hunter chuckled before stepping to the side, revealing the pram, closed, “Little one’s been asleep since we hit atmosphere.” 

Mando waited a moment before holding his hand, “Let me help you with those.” 

You licked your teeth before offering the roll of bandages to him. His gloved fingers closed around it before unraveling your previous handiwork. Fortunately the bleeding had mostly stopped, but you didn’t miss how his visor paused on the stained smears of blood down your arms and across your clothes. It made you bristle all over again, which he obviously noticed since he quickly started wrapping the injury before you rescinded your cooperation. It pained you to say he was right, your wrappings had been way too loose. Still, the tightness made you flinch more than you were proud to admit, making you feel like a child at a doctor’s office. Especially with how gentle he was being, how sincere his apologies were with every flinch. Your frustration welled back up at his gentility, your jaw setting which only made the split of your lip hurt worse. 

“You’re upset.” He observed, taking the bacta gel and spreading it on a cotton swab so he could dab at the open slice across your thigh which gave him the perfect excuse to drop his gaze from yours.  Sometimes you wished you also wore a helmet, make it a little harder for Mando to read your emotions. Make him play body language trivia during every interaction of every day, “I shouldn't have left you alone. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you. You have every right to be upset."

Especially, if he was going to to read them incorrectly and break your heart in he process. Of course he thought that’s what you were upset about. The Mandalorian- all beskar steel, blaster smoke, and the worlds he balanced on his shoulders. 

You slumped your shoulders, ignoring the ache from your newly bandaged wound. You averted your gaze off to the Razor Crest, watching half a dozen workers frantically making two dozen repairs. Mando sighed, gingerly working the bacta into the gash with one hand, meanwhile you became acutely aware of his other gloved hand holding your thigh still. Gentle, yet firm, and his thumb was rubbing soothing circles against your exposed skin.  Mando took so much on himself and never expected any sort of reciprocity, didn’t know how to accept it. It filled you with anger all over again.

“Mando. I’m not mad at you for not being there to protect me.” You shook your head, glancing at his hand on your thigh before meeting his visor. You wondering if his eyes were as sad as his posture let on, quickly followed by a train of thought about his eyes that you decided to misattribute to the blood loss. 

“I should have been there. That sleemo never should have gotten close enough to touch you, much less do this.” He growled, taking the tube of liquid bandage and squeezing it across the gash. 

“Yeah, Mando, you should have been in two places at once and done my job for me. You’re right.” You groaned sarcastically, trying to snatch the tube out of his hand only to have him catch your wrist. Seeing your sharp look, he dropped your wrist but didn’t hand over the tube, instead finishing his application in silence. 

“Oh my stars- that was sarcasm Mando. I’m being facetious.” You were gobsmacked, did that helmet cut off airflow? Was his brain so oxygen deprived that he thought you truly expected that of him? How deep did this self martyrdom run? 

“You really don’t trust me, do you?” You finally asked, breaking  all contact to retract your legs from him. If he kept rubbing those circles on your thigh… you might do something dramatic, “I know I’m not a Mandalorian, and I’m probably not the best bounty hunter you’ve ever met, but if you can’t trust me to do my job then why let me keep tagging along.” 

Mando’s helmet was kind of doing a little spiral motion as if trying to follow your logic, “What? I trust you, of course I trust you.” 

“But not enough to do my job.” You snipped, “If you trust me so much why do your part of the job and mine before I even get the chance? Always swooping in to finish things, even when I have it under control. Why call me your partner if I’m basically a piece of cargo you have to feed? Why keep me around if I’m such a hinderance?” 

Mando actually flinched back at your sudden outburst, and you quickly looked away, maybe you had let more of your own insecurity show than you meant to. But it was all true. If he told you to take care of the perimeter, he’d flush out the inside and do a perimeter sweep before you even got to a good stakeout spot with your rifle. If you were both engaged in hand to hand combat, he’d recklessly rush his fight so shoot your opponent for you.  

The armored warrior was silent for a good long while, his visor watching you as you started to squirm under his gaze. You were about to interject, tell him to drop it and not worry about it, but as you opened your mouth he held a hand up to stop you, “I have no reservations about your skills. I trust you with my life.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed, reopening the cut through the one over your left eye, “Then-“ 

Once again, he interrupted you by saying your name quietly… reverently. You went silent. 

“When I went against the guild on Nevarro, you were the only guild member to stand with me. I never would have made it off planet with the child if you hadn’t intervened. You gave everything up to help me, you didn’t know me and yet you threw your life away to help me escape with the child. You could have earned enough credits to retire three times over by turning me in, you’ve had chance after chance to betray me, and yet,” He paused to look at you, really look at you, “You’ve risked your life time after time for the child, for me. You devoted yourself to this quest as if it were your own. How could I do any less than you?” 

His gloved hand reached for yours, his thumb grazing over your split knuckles from a up close encounter with a pirate, “Every time I allow someone to hurt you, it’s an affront to your sacrifice.” 

Your eyes softened, letting him dab that bacta cream across the marred skin, “Mando, we’re bounty hunters. Getting hurt is an occupational hazard. I knew the risks when I did what I did.” 

He was silent; his visor tipped away from you over to the pram where the Child slept, “You do too much for us.” 

“Hypocrite.” You teased, trying to lighten the mood. His confession had eased your frustrations, a balm to your own insecurities. Of course this had come from a place of protectiveness, how very… Mandalorian. Considering him for a moment, you angled your body back towards him. You knew all this duty weighed on him, and often there wasn’t much you could do to help, but at the moment, on your perfectly chosen rooftop, you knew what he needed. You handed him a new cotton swap and the small bacta patches that would prevent the cuts on your face from scarring, “Do my face so we can find some dinner?” 

He nodded quickly, taking the supplies and pulling you a bit closer to him, so close that you knee overlapped his own armored thigh, and you were close enough to count the scratches on his chest plate, even in the dim light. The slight lean taxed your sore core and back muscles, so you steadied yourself by placing a hand on his knee. He almost jerked, but cleared his throat, taking a moment to relax again. Your lip tugged up, he unconsciously moved closer. 

You let him work in silence for a long pause, enjoying the night breeze. He gingerly cleaned each cut and scrape, gloved fingers grazing your cheeks, the slope of your nose, your lips and a whole bunch of other places you knew weren’t injured. You tried not to let your breath catch, in case that would spur him to stop. 

Eventually, he stopped pretending to be using both hands, leaving his left one cupping your cheek ’to keep you still’. You leaned into the touch, allowing the softness of the moment before your next bounty or side quest came along. You liked when it was just the two of you, Mando talked a lot more, he was unintentionally one of the funniest people you knew.

You were shocked to find his company so enjoyable after all the rumors of him being only slightly more human than an assassin droid. Sure he was stoic, usually silent, focussed, but he was also kind, more compassionate than he would admit, and unwaveringly loyal.  Dank Farrik, he made it hard to stay mad at him. 

Closing your eyes (a big sign of trust for a sniper), you laid your hand over the one cupping your cheek, “Mando, I didn’t make this sacrifice expecting anything from you. I just wish you’d let me help you more, you don’t have to do it alone.”

“I hate seeing you hurt, more than I know how to explain.” His voice was gruffer than usual as he placed a patch over the split in your brow. Your hand on his knee squeezed gently. 

“I don’t need you to protect me, I need you to know that, especially at the risk of your own safety.” You reminded him with a softness to your voice that you seldom used to anyone other than the Child. A thumb brushed across the peak of your cheek before moving a stray piece of hair so he could patch a scrape under the corner of your eye. 

“I know that, ner kar’ta.” His tone matched yours: soft, gentle, intimate. Your head cocked to the side, but Mando wasn’t feeling up to explaining so he continued on, placing another patch across the bridge of your nose, “Still, I think I’ll stay on the job a while longer.” 

________

After dinner and chasing the pit droids out of the Razor Crest, it was time for some well needed rest. Mando had managed to scrounge up some light dosage pain medication when he stopped to replenish the medpacs. Not enough to leave you delirious, but strong enough to make you drowsy and a little loose with your thoughts. Nothing you’d regret, just a couple more direct than usual questions for you beskar wrapped bunkmate. You watched him putter around the cargo hold from your cot with half lidded eyes, as he went through and checked over everything the droids might have touched.  

“How much longer?” You couldn’t help but ask, wondering if your days with the Mandalorian were already numbered. Mando’s helmet turned towards you before sliding the circuit panel back into the wall. 

“Sorry, I’m almost done. Try to get some sleep.” He answered quietly, trying to minimize the noise he made as he moved about the small space. 

“Not that.” You waved him off, the motion much clumsier, heavier than usual, “Protecting me- a fool’s errand by the way. You said you’d stay on the job a while longer.” 

Mando sighed, moving towards his rack, the one with the closing door that he’d tried to give to you, but you refused. It was the only place other than the privy he could remove his helmet, you refused to let him give that away. He flicked lights off as he went, leaving only the dim glow of button lights to reflect on his armor. He was silent long enough that the darkness lulled you into a bit of a half sleep. Maybe that was his goal, still he answered you. Quietly, in that same reverent tone he’d said your name with earlier that evening. 

“Every single day for the rest of my life.” 

Exhaustion, blood loss, and narcotics dulled the effect of that declaration, but you heart still clenched at the sincerity of his voice. Your eyes wouldn’t open anymore and your thoughts were becoming increasingly sluggish with every beat of your heart. 

“Thanks, Mando.” You breathed, listening to the clicks of his armor being disassembled and neatly placed away, finally the hiss of his helmet being disengaged, knowing it must be dark enough he wasn’t worried about you seeing his face. 

“Din, that’s my actual name. You can call me Din when it’s just us.” He breathed into the night, barely registering in your mind, but you tucked away that information where you’d remember it tomorrow. You heart clenched again at his offer to you, showing how much he trusted you. 

“Thanks, Din."

-----

Ner K'arta - my heart

now that's what I call shitty writing

[leapingbadger]

Sunset

Summary: Hunter meets up with a liberator of ancient wonders. Hunter POV.

Word Count: 2151

Read on AO3

Hunter sat at a weather worn table on the edge of Pabu’s hilltop market, listening to the idle chatter of passers by. The sun had started to set, a crimson slash across the horizon. Dusk was settling in. The lights of the island had illuminated a few minutes ago, giving the tropical paradise a warm, comforting glow.

“What do we have here?” a cool voice came from behind.

“I figured you’d show up eventually,” Hunter said with gruff voice and a smile. Phee Genoa, liberator of ancient wonders and long-time friend looked down at him with a smirk on her face. She patted his shoulder fondly as she pulled a neighboring chair out with an unpleasant scraping noise.

Phee looked ever the pirate, vibroblade strapped to her thigh, blaster at her side. Her hair, longer now, stretched down her back in box braids, colorful charms throughout making her look like one of the treasures she often hunted. A golden, oblong necklace hung around her neck. Hunter recognized the gift Omega had given her for her birthday. Inside was a drawing of Tech or ‘Brown Eyes’ as she so affectionately called him.

Hunter thought it was strange that out of all the people in the galaxy, she had turned out to be one of his most trusted friends. She was one of the few people he could confide in, sometimes more so than his own family.

She rocked back on her chair, so the front two legs were in the air and teetered there while a waitress brought her a drink. She raised it in salute and Hunter clinked her mug with his own before taking a deep swig of the bitter, amber liquid.

“So, what have I missed?” she asked.

Hunter shrugged, “Not much. Things don’t tend to change much these days,” he added.

Phee took notice, lowering her chair and resting her chin on her palm. “Is that a problem?” she asked, concern in her voice.

He shook his head and took another sip. “No, of course not,”

She looked at him, brown furrowed, “come on ‘Dark and Broody’, spill”

A shadow fell over Hunter’s face as she used the nickname Cid had given him. Cid, who betrayed them to the empire and led to Omega being captured.

“Sorry,” she said quickly. Realizing her mistake. “Old habit…I didn’t mean…”

“I know,” Hunter said with a wave of his hand. He didn’t fault Phee, but the name brought up memories he would rather push to the back of his consciousness and forget about. Curiosity, however, got the best of him. “Have you heard from her lately?” she asked, not looking Phee in the eyes.

“I cut contact a long time ago, but I hear things… She disappeared a couple of months before you all escaped Tantis. No one’s heard of her since.” She eyed Hunter and he stared at his mug, swirling the amber liquid around so it formed a whirlpool in the middle.  “I wondered…I mean, no one would blame you…if you… paid her a visit.”

Hunter looked into her deep brown eyes and smirked. “Believe me, we did think about it,” he said, running his hand through his hair. “Once Echo left, Wrecker and I discussed it. Thought maybe she was a good place to start. She’d contacted the Imps, maybe she had a way of getting hold of them again. We could track them somehow…”

Phee raised her eyebrows, wordlessly asking him to go on.

Hunter didn’t like talking about that time. He signed but continued, looking anywhere but directly at Phee. “Look, I wasn’t in a good place. We decided against it. Wrecker, pulled me back from the brink on that one.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, her drink sitting forgotten just out of reach of her fingertips. Phee had never been one to turn down juicy gossip.

Hunter wasn’t proud of how he’d handled the time after Tech’s death and Omega’s capture. Sometimes he thought he could have handled one or the other, but both at the same time set him on a path that he didn’t expect to come back from. He was reckless, dangerous and at times wild in his desperation.

“If we had gone back, it wouldn’t have been about getting intel. It wouldn’t have been about tracking anything. It would have been revenge, pure and simple. She would have been dead before Wrecker followed through the doorway. Besides, Ord Mantell was occupied by the empire by then. Tactically it was a no-win scenario. It wasn’t worth the risk.”

“Well then,” Phee said, seemingly relieved, “sounds like someone else took care of the problem for you.  Ketch and Bolo run the parlor now, it’s basically an imperial hangout. So, what’s got you sitting here alone? shouldn’t Wrecker be cooking up his latest masterpiece?”

“He is. I decided to take a walk. I noticed you heading to the Archium. Figured you’d stumble in here eventually.”

“And what is it I can do for you?” she asked, amused.

“Tell me about your adventures. What have you been up to?”

Phee grinned and sat forward in her chair; her arms gesticulated wildly as she regaled him with the tale of an artifact long thought lost to a tribe on Dathomir. She had managed to find it in the most elusive place, of course.

Hunter smiled as she talked and leaned back into his chair. He loved listening to Phee’s stories of the larger galaxy. Pabu was the dream, what he’d always wanted but after almost seven months with limited travel, his feet were starting to get itchy, and he had started to question if settling down was really for him after all.

He caught himself at this thought and buried it. “It’s all you ever wanted. Ever since you left Kamino,” he told himself again. He’d been having this conversation with himself a lot lately.

Phee seemed to notice she didn’t have his full attention and cleared her throat. “Am I boring you?” she asked pointedly with an amused tone.

“No, I’m sorry. I’m just…distracted,” Hunter could tell she wasn’t buying it. And he let out another deep sigh. “I’m feeling a little…restless. Without the Marauder we can’t just fly off at a moment’s notice and without that I’m feeling a little…trapped.”

She looked at him, surprised. “Pabu isn’t living up to your expectations?”

“No, Phee. It’s perfect. Omega’s in school and making friends, Wrecker’s got a job and a purpose, Crosshair is healing and painting. He’s selling some of art at the market on the weekend.” He added, “but I’m just here. I suppose my skills aren’t immediately transferable.”

“Hunter, you’re a smart guy. I’m sure you could do a lot of things,” She was always so ridiculously positive, it’s one of the things Hunter liked most about her. She was always able to put a spin on things.

“Rex contacted me the other day. Wanted help with a mission. I’d be away for a while.”

“Ahh...” Phee said, finally understanding. “What did the team say?”

Hunter looked sheepish, “I didn’t tell them.” He said, hurrying to follow up when he knew she was about to interject. “it’s not a mission for all of us. He just wants me.”

“Sounds like the perfect solution to your problem. Do the mission, get rid of the itchy feet. Everyone will be here when you get back” she said, relaxing in her chair again and downing the last of her ale.

The sun had fully set by now. The bright, pearlescent lights of Pabu cast shadows on the tiled floor. The smell of cooking meat drifted over from the other side of the market. Hunter didn’t like the idea of leaving anyone behind, even if that’s not what he was doing. Omega had been taken too many times. Crosshair was still recovering. And what if they weren’t here when he got back? That fear plagued him. He had been so close to losing all of them, losing everything. He didn’t think he could do that again.

Phee was watching him intently in a way that made him self-conscious. “What would Tech tell you to do?” she asked at last. She didn’t mention him often, at least not by name. She alluded to him, and sometimes when the light was dim, he caught her looking at Crosshair as though she had seen a ghost.

“Tech never backed down from a fight. He’d tell me to go. I’m sure he’d say that they would be fine without me,”

“Clever guy, that Brown Eyes,” she said softly. Her eyes looked suddenly sad, and she turned away from Hutner to brush her cheek.

“Yeah. He was.” Hunter said, he touched her shoulder briefly and gave it a squeeze. She nodded somberly and was back to her vivacious self.

“So, what are you going to do?”

****************************************************

Hunter stood at the base of the weeping maya tree, as the ship descended. His armor felt alarmingly heavy and cumbersome, and he felt himself pulling and the neck of his blacks. His vibroknife was strapped to his forearm, blaster in its holster and bandana tied tightly to his forehead. It felt familiar and strange at the same time.

He stood back and turned his head as the landing shuttle whipped dust and sand over him. Within a few seconds of landing, Echo appeared at the ramp, waving his scomp and he made his way to his former teammate.

They grasped forearms in greeting and smiled. “This all you’re taking?” he asked, indicating the small bag Hunter had at his feet.

“it’s a stealth mission, right? Figured traveling light would make the most sense.”

Echo nodded and looked over his shoulder, “where is everyone?”

Hunter smiled. He knew Echo wanted to see Omega and his brothers. “We said goodbye this morning. Wrecker is working, Omega has school, and Crosshair is in one of his moods.”

Echo raised an eyebrow, and a smile crossed his lips, “Oh?”

“Let’s just say he didn’t appreciate not getting an invitation to the party,”

Echo smiled again, “got it. Well in that case we can get moving. I found you a helmet. It’s not modified like your old one but it’s phase 2 armor, so at least it’s familiar. Needs a paint job though.”

Hunter gave Echo his thanks as they turned towards the ship. His helmet, and Wrecker and Crosshair’s had been lost on Tantis. They had more pressing matters when escaping than to go looking for them. Still, a huge part of his identity was caught up in that helmet and working a new mission without it made him feel a little unsure.”

Just as he boarded the ramp, he heard the unmistakable, hurried footfalls of Omega.

“Hunter,” she called as Batcher bounded behind her. She ran up the ramp to meet him and threw her arms around his neck. “don’t be too long,” she said into his shoulder, and she hugged him tighter. “Be sure to check in,”

Hunter held her for a few more seconds before setting her on the ramp with a thunk. She grinned and gave Echo a hug as well, a smile on her lips but tears in her eyes.

“It’s a stealth mission, Omega. I won’t always be able to check in.” he said, kneeling down to her height and resting his hand on her shoulder, “But Echo will send you updates. I’m going to miss you, Kid,”

Wrecker, Phee and Crosshair all made their way over to the ship from wherever they had been congregating. Hunter had assumed this morning’s goodbye wasn’t the last of it.

“Take care of yourself, Hunta,” Wrecker said, enveloping him in a bone crushing hug. He clapped him on the back with his shovel like hand and stepped back so his brother could come forward.

Crosshair was grim faced and scowling. Toothpick in his mouth, he held his augmented right hand in his left and rolled them over each other.

“I still think it’s a mistake to not take backup,” he hissed, eyes down. “But If you must go, be careful,”

“I will crosshair. Rex’ll be with me. I won’t be without backup,”

Crosshair nodded but he knew what he meant. He wanted to be his backup. Crosshair didn’t trust anyone else, even Rex, to do it.

Hunter tapped him on his shoulder and nodded. “I’ll be fine,” He smiled at Phee who had her arm around Omega’s shoulder.

“I think Brown Eyes would agree with your decision,” she said.

Omega looked up at Phee confused but Hunter nodded and smiled. “Keep an eye on them for me, Phee.”

“Hunta, if you need us. Call,” Wrecker said.

Hunter smiled. They had grown so accustomed to being together. He understood they would all have an adjustment to make. He gave Omega one last hug, Scratched Batcher under the chin and turned to follow Echo aboard. He looked up at the peaceful, blue, Pabu sky. They’d be fine for a little while. And when he came back, maybe he’d be fine too.

[rowiewritesstuff]

Got any thoughts on what yandere EarthSpark Megatron might be like?

TFE Yandere Megatron - The Protective Yandere

Dottie and you had been friends for a long time. You both fought side by side in the war, and you took a bullet for her. You recovered, but it took a long time to get better. 

Ever since then, Megatron has had a lot of respect for you. You often hung out with Dottie, who in turn hung out with you. You were like a member of the family at this point, almost living at their house. Mo and Robbie saw you as a sort of ‘cool relative’ that they could always trust with their secrets. While you were really chill, you still scolded them and took care of them when Dottie and Alex couldn’t.

When they decided to move to Witwicky, you were invited to go with them. You, of course, agreed. They were all you had left now. 

When you all moved there together, Dottie insisted that you live with them. Eventually you caved because Alex promised that he’d cook you your favorite food. Mo and Robbie were happy that at least you got to come with them.

Dottie and you went out to put cones up near where an accident had occurred the previous night when Optimus, Elita-one, and Megatron showed up. You were down on the side of the road picking up some pieces of broken taillight, so no one noticed you at first. 

When you came up the hill, Megatron had to fight the flustered blush that was rising to his cheeks. Dottie knew Megatron well and quietly teased him. 

“U-Uh, (Y/N)! It’s been a while!” He stumbled over his words. 

“Yeah, it has. How have y’all been?”

Megatron’s mind went blank as you smiled at him. When you didn’t answer, Optimus chimed in. “We’ve been good. We actually came to Witwicky because there’s a new enemy threatening this town. Prisoners are going missing.” 

Your eyes furrowed in confusion. “Abducting prisoners? Maybe a Decepticon?” 

Optimus sighs. “The drones didn’t find anything, we’ll have to search the towns ourselves!” 

That’s how you ended up in Elita’s alt-mode, racing into the town. You never expected your day to go like this. 

Because of the incidents in the town, you and Megatron worked together often. This unfortunately put a large target on your back. One day when you were driving home from work, you noticed a stealth-bomber sneaking up behind you. 

“Shit!” You fumbled around trying to grab your phone when Soundwave transformed on top of your car. You slammed around like a pinball and hit your head, making you pass out. 

When Soundwave attacked Megatron and the others, he had you in his grasp. You were unconscious with dried blood trailing down your face. “Wait! They have (Y/N)!” Megatron stopped the others from attacking.

“Soundwave, release them at once!” Optimus’ battle mask went on. 

Soundwave mocking dangles you between two digits. Your body swung by your arm. Megatron takes a threatening step forward, “Put. Them. Down.”

Soundwave shakes his head. “So, this is why you became a traitor? You care for this…insect?” Soundwave’s visor glows a brighter red. “You can have them.” He throws you as far as he can into the air, raising a blaster to shoot you. 

Without a second thought, Megatron dashes forward. He puts his fusion cannon right to Soundwave’s spark chamber, and in seconds his ex-third in command was gone. Energon tainted his servo as he reached up and caught you. 

Optimus and Elita-One were frozen in shock. Elita’s hand dropped to her blaster in slight fear. Optimus took a hesitant step forward. “Megatron. We need to get them medical attention.”

Megatron could only nod as he transformed, you strapped into the front of his alt-mode. He quickly made his way to the nearest hospital, not fully trusting G.H.O.S.T. to take care of you. 

Optimus and Elita followed closely behind. “Optimus, do you think…I mean he-”

“He did what he had to do. He was going to kill (Y/N).” Optimus had a hard time believing his own words. He wanted to believe his friend didn’t have a choice. He just had to remind himself of just how dastardly Soundwave actually was.

While you were in with the doctors, Megatron and Optimus talked. “I didn’t mean to- I didn’t want to.” He looked at the dried energon on his hand with sadness. “I couldn’t let anything happen to them. I wouldn’t know what I’d do with myself if they got hurt- or worse- because I have a target on my back.” 

Optimus looked at his friend and sized him up. The true sadness on his face- he knew that he regretted killing Soundwave. He placed a gentle hand on Megatron’s shoulder. “It’s okay, old friend. I’ll talk to G.H.O.S.T.” 

When he talked to G.H.O.S.T., they were instantly wary. They demanded that Megatron face some sort of evaluation. While Optimus was fighting G.H.O.S.T. on the matter, Megatron was with you. He was watching over you when you woke up- it was a little weird to stand by your window, but he made it work.

“M-megatron?” Your voice croaked out.

“I’m here, love. I’m so sorry this happened to you.” He reached his arm in and held your hand gently between two digits. “I will never allow something like this to happen again.”

The doctor walked in and was shocked to see Megatron standing there- but he managed to keep his professionalism. “O-oh. Well, you seem overall fine other than a concussion. You’re alright to go home, just take it easy. Someone already took care of your discharge papers. Have a good day.”

You looked confused, but realized G.H.O.S.T. probably took care of everything. Megatron gently scooped you out of the bed and transformed with you. 

“Uh, Megs? Where are we going?” 

“Shh, you’ll see soon enough.”

You both flew for a long time- probably two hours. After about fifteen minutes you fell into a peaceful slumber. You woke up in a comfortable bed. You were confused because you didn’t recognize your surroundings. You walked around what turned out to be a cabin, wondering if this was a G.H.O.S.T. facility. 

You walked outside to see where you were only to discover miles of forest- and Megatron. 

“Megatron, where are we?” 

He averted his eyes to the side. “Somewhere safe.”

“What does that even mean? Where’s Dottie? The kids?”

Megatron sighed sadly as he gently picked you up. “We can go visit them together in a few months, okay? You need to lay low for a while until you’re off the Decepticon’s radar.”

“Who are you to decide that for me?” You growled out. “Take me home, now.”

Megatron placed you on the ground. “You are home. I managed to buy this cabin discreetly, so no one knows where you are. It’s for your own safety- I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you.” 

“Megs, I understand that I got hurt. I'll be okay- I can defend mys-”

“You can’t! You were almost killed. You will stay here- when I can trust you, we can go visit everyone. Don’t try to get away- I’ll know. There’s also a hundred miles of forest around this cabin- so stay put. It’s for your own good.” Megatron leaned down and kissed your head. “I’ll be back with supplies soon. Stay inside, it’ll be cold tonight.”

With that, Megatron flew off. When he went back to G.H.O.S.T., he said you’d been captured by a group of Decepticons. While everyone looked for the ones who took you, they never suspected it was actually him.