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beskarandblasters · 8 months

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I Know Places

Enemies to Lovers!Din Djarin x F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist

Author’s note: Special thank you’s to @nostalxgic for making this beautiful graphic and @wannab-urs, @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin, @mandoisapunk, and @theredviper for beta reading this for me! 🥹 Also I used this guide to help determine how long it takes to get from Tatooine to Coruscant… which isn’t that accurate at all lmao but roughly 22 standard days of travel is convenient for this story specifically so I'm going with that. All of my other Star Wars fics are much better with travel times/lore I promise but as the official writers of Star Wars say, “hyperspace travels as fast as the plot” 😉

Summary: You’re on Tatooine running from your life from some goons on Coruscant who you owe credits to; credits you definitely don’t have. Just when you think you’re alone, a Mandalorian captures you to bring you in. What started out as hatred for each other morphs into apathy into tolerance and finally, into feelings for each other.

Word count: 7k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, canon divergent, takes place when Grogu is with Luke, long live the Razor Crest, helmet stays on, descriptions of reader being dehydrated/sick, taking medication, restraints, Din is an asshole at first, eventual feelings, nipple play, fingering, oral sex (M receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, canon typical violence, use of Mando'a words (cyar'ika = sweetheart), no use of y/n

The hot suns of Tatooine burn the back of your neck as you trudge along the desert. Your feet feel like a million pounds, every step takes all of your energy that you can muster. Not only are you physically exhausted but you’re also beating yourself up mentally. It’s your own fault you’re here on this shithole of a planet running for your life. You got tied up with the wrong crowd, a crime lord named Garo and his goons on the lower levels of Coruscant. And now you owe them a hefty sum of credits; credits you definitely don’t have.

You get the sense you’re being watched; like someone is following you. You turn to look for another set of footprints in the sand but there’s only your own. You spun around too fast and now you’re feeling dizzy. When was the last time you had water? You can’t remember.

You spot a valley in the distance with some shaded patches from the rocks above; a break from the harsh suns. You make it there as fast as you can (which is still rather slow) and plop yourself down in the sand. You pat your sides to make sure you still have your dagger and blaster attached to your belt; the only methods of defense you have. You’re not even that good with a blaster and it’s not yours. You stole it before you left Coruscant, hitching a ride with a stranger who was also traveling to Tatooine, giving him pretty much all of the credits you had left. And as for the dagger… What good is that going to do? A dagger is only useful if the threat is close to you and by that point you’re probably dead anyway.

You close in on yourself, balling yourself up as tight as you can, as if you’ll fall apart at any given moment. It feels like the entire weight of the galaxy is on your shoulders and you’re going to let it swallow you whole.

You must’ve fallen asleep. You’re sprawled out on the sand, still under the small patch of shade, you think. You haven’t opened your eyes yet. Your mouth feels like sandpaper and you’re severely dehydrated. If this continues any longer it’ll prove to be fatal. You open your eyes slowly, expecting to see rocks or the unforgiving suns of Tatooine above you. But instead… you’re met with the sight of a silver helmet and the stone-cold stare of its visor glaring down at you.

You attempt to yell but it comes out as a weakened gasp. Scrambling backwards you try to inch away from the looming figure above you. You struggle to your feet and try to run away but due to your impaired state, it’s no use. A leather glove grabs your wrist and you feel what must be cuffs locking– you’ve been captured. Your worst fears are coming true; you’re gonna be sent back to Coruscant where you’ll most definitely be put to death.

“I have to say, that was easier than I thought,” the masked man says, keeping a hand wrapped around your arm as he leads you away from your resting spot.

“W-what?” you choke out, barely audible.

“I didn’t think you were going to be so frail.”

“I’ve been alone in the desert for many days… without any water.”

“Judging by your state I won’t be able to carbon freeze you.”

“Carbon freeze me?”

…Who did they send after you?

“Consider yourself lucky.”

You roll your eyes.

“Lucky? I don’t even know who you are. How threatening could you even possibly be?”

He stops walking and turns to face you, the helmet getting closer in your face. You can see your reflection in it, just how tired and sick you look.

“Do you want to test that?” he says sternly.

“N-no,” you stutter.

“Good. Now let’s go,” he says, dragging you along. If he wasn’t holding you upright you’d be face planted in the sand.

The mysterious man leads you to his ship, a Razor Crest, lowering the exit ramp and pulling you inside. And now you’re standing right by his carbonite freezer, feeling thankful for your desiccated state. He seals the ship and sits you down on a crate and pulls one across to sit in front of you. The T-shaped visor burning a hole into you as he sits, stoic and not saying a word. Now that you’re not blinded by the sun or being dragged you get a better look at him; full silver beskar, an imposing stance, and completely adorned in all sorts of weapons.

“So you’re taking me back to Coruscant?”

“Mhm.”

“You know he’s gonna kill me, right?”

“That’s not my problem. I get hired to do a job and I do it. I don’t ask questions. I don’t get involved.”

“Who are you?”

“A bounty hunter.”

“But who are you?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“You’re a Mandalorian, aren’t you?”

You’ve heard rumors about them; legends even. You know they’re strong, skilled warriors; a relentless group of people. They sent one of the best bounty hunters in the galaxy after you… feels like overkill.

“And that’s all you need to know about me,” he says.

“I’m going to take any weapons you have, uncuff you so you can get to the cockpit, and then once you’re sitting the cuffs go back on, got it?” he continues.

“I’m not much of a threat to you,” you declare.

“I know you’re not,” he says, unclipping the blaster in your holster, “But who knows what sorts of ideas you’ll get if I leave you with these,” he continues, holding the blaster in front of your face.

“Who knows what you’ll try to do as I’m piloting the ship,” he finishes, holding the dagger in front of your face again.

He gets up and stores your weapons with his own, closing the compartment so you can’t get to them. He stands to the side of you and starts to undo your cuffs. And that’s when something stupid overtakes you. You’re going to try to run.

Once your wrists are free you make a run for the exit, trying desperately to lower the ramp. You feel him behind you immediately, spinning you around, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head.

“That wasn’t wise,” he says by your ear, really coming out as a growl.

“Just kill me already,” you spit out.

“Can’t. They requested you be brought in alive.”

You groan just as he draws his blaster, which shifts your groan into a gasp.

“What are you-”

“They don’t care if you’re injured or not. Now get in the cockpit,” he says, grabbing your shoulder and placing you in front of him as he walks, the tip of the blaster against your back.

He coaxes you to climb up the ladder, keeping the blaster aimed at you the whole time. You sit in one of the passenger seats and strap in and that’s when the cuffs return, much to your dismay. He sits in the pilot seat and prepares the ship for takeoff while your stomach swirls with nerves. He takes off from Tatooine and enters space. Once he’s locked a coordinate and sets a path, he makes the jump to lightspeed.

He turns his seat around and looks at you, “We have roughly twenty two standard days until we get to Coruscant.”

You nod. You knew that when you escaped Coruscant, but it’s also annoying that you’re going to be stuck with this asshole cooped up in his ship for what’s gonna feel like forever. He gets up from the pilot seat and starts to head back down to the storage area, without bringing you with him.

“What about me?!” you call over your shoulder.

“What about you?” he deadpans.

“I can’t-” you start to say but he cuts you off.

“No you’re staying there.”

“Can I at least have water?”

He lets out a long modulated sigh, as if your dehydration is a burden to him. You hear him rustle around the storage area of the ship and climb back up the ladder. He hands you a small canteen, not saying a word.

“Thanks,” you grumble, taking it in your hands.

You place it in between your thighs and try to open it with your cuffed hands but it’s no use. He sighs again and takes it from you; like you’re a wounded animal he’s being forced to help. He opens it and hands it back to you. He watches you struggle to take a sip of water and you wonder if he’s looking at you with pity or disgust under that helmet. You finish the water and hand the canteen back to him as best as you can with these stupid cuffs on. You lean back in the seat and rest your eyes, wishing you were back in the desert instead of being stuck in this trap with Mando.

You wake up with a stiff neck and sore wrists. You groan as you lean forward, wishing for nothing more than to be free from these cuffs and out of this seat. Mando climbs up the ladder behind you, stopping next to your seat. With his visor glaring down at you he says, “You’re finally awake.”

“How long was I asleep?”

“Pretty much a full standard day.”

“And you let me sleep that long.”

“One less thing for me to worry about.”

“Thanks,” you say, sarcastically.

“Are you ever gonna let me out of these cuffs?”

“Depends on-” he starts to say, but you cut him off, completely fed up at this point.

“I’m not going anywhere. We’re in the middle of space. I can’t take you in a fight and even if I could I don’t know how to fly this thing,” you snap.

He sighs again, a signature for him at this point, and moves to undo your cuffs. As soon as you’re free you immediately stand up to stretch out, feeling some of the tension leave your body.

“Do I have to stay up here?” you ask.

“I guess not,” he says reluctantly.

You’re still a little wobbly on your feet, from the sleep but also the extreme dehydration and fatigue from your time in the desert. You take a step towards the ladder and stumble, almost falling forward until Mando catches you by your wrist, pulling you back into him.

“Are you still not feeling well?”

“Not really,” you say, hyper-aware of the cool beskar against your back.

“Let me go down first. I’ll be there to catch you if you fall.”

“Uh, sure.”

“Would you rather I just let you fall?”

“No, no. That’s fine,” you say quickly.

He lets go of you and has you hold onto the seat while he heads down the ladder. Carefully, you walk towards the ladder and lower yourself down. As you climb down you feel Mando’s ghost of a touch around your waist, barely there but ready to grip you if you fall. You step down onto the floor and think you’re in the clear but your knees buckle underneath you and you lose your balance. But Mando catches you, steadying you and holding onto your waist tightly as you find your balance.

“I don’t feel good,” you say, a sudden wave of nausea washing over you.

“Do you need to lay down?”

“Y-yeah, and I need water.”

You feel him pull you over to what must be his sleeping quarters. He sets you down on his cot and leaves to grab another canteen of water, returning swiftly with it and opening it for you even though he already took off your cuffs. You take a few sips and set it on the shelf next to you. You get under the blanket and lay down while he turns off the light. You hear a faint sound, what you think is his glove coming off. All of a sudden his bare hand rests against your forehead, checking your temperature.

“You’re burning up.”

“Yup.”

“Hang on,” he says, slipping his glove back on leaving to grab something.

He returns and turns the light on. You blink a few times and get adjusted to the light again. He extends his hand to you, holding a pill in his gloved palm.

You look at it with a suspicious expression on your face. Why would you take a random pill from him? What if it’s just something to knock you out until you get back to Coruscant so you don’t have to be his problem anymore?

“It’s for your fever.”

Looking at it reluctantly you still contemplate whether or not you should take it.

“I’m not lying,” he says.

“Fine,” you say, grabbing the pill from his hand and the canteen off the shelf. You take the pill followed by a sip of water, and put the canteen away. Feeling tired again already, you lay back down on the cot and drift off to sleep, hoping to wake up well rested for once.

You didn’t sleep peacefully. You were tossing and turning, shivering and breaking a sweat. What you don’t know is that Mando was worried sick about you. He stayed up and by your side the whole time, keeping a watchful eye on you. Under the helmet, he wore a concerned expression on his face, taking note of every time you stirred in your sleep, every time you shivered, the furrow of your brow, and the beads of sweat on your forehead. It was from that moment he decided to drop the hardened bounty hunter act and shift into protective mode. But the next step is getting you to trust him.

You wake up the next morning feeling a bit better but still tired. You kicked off the blanket in your sleep and you can tell your fever has dissipated but the quality of the sleep you had was not great. Mando’s cot isn’t the most comfortable place to sleep but it sure beats sleeping on the sands of Tatooine any day. You roll over on the cot to see Mando sitting beside you, startling you.

“Have you been there the whole time?” you ask, once the small wave of shock wears off.

“Yes.”

“Why? Just to make sure I didn’t go anywhere or do anything?” you ask sourly.

“What? No, I-”

“I already told you. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not doing anything. I’m stuck here with you,” you say through gritted teeth, feeling truly fed up with him at this point.

He sighs, not out of annoyance but out of defeat, and hangs his head. You sit up on the cot and declare, “I need to use your refresher.”

“Of course,” he says, standing up, “Do you need help getting there?”

“No,” you say, rising and brushing past him. He sighs behind you but you don’t care. The storage area of the ship is small so the refresher isn’t hard to find. You step inside and turn on the water. You take off your clothes and hang them on a hook before getting in. Letting the water run over your body, you wash away the dirt from the desert, your sickness, and your exhaustion. You’re taking your time, not caring about using all of his hot water until you hear a soft knock on the door.

“What?” you call out, already getting annoyed.

“Can I come in? I have some clean clothes for you. I promise I won’t look.”

“I guess,” you respond, feeling a little relieved however that he didn’t yell at you for using all his hot water.

You hear the door open and you watch him step inside, keeping to his word and not facing the refresher. He sets the clothes on the sink and leaves. You poke your head out of the refresher and look at the clothes, curious as to why he has a spare set of women’s clothes lying around. And they’re… strange to say the least. A silver, extremely formal top and black pants that are on the complete opposite of the spectrum; casual wear. He is trying to be nice, you suppose.

You get out of the refresher and dry off with the only towel you see, trying to ignore that it’s his, and the only one he uses most likely, before putting on your new clothes. You step back out into the storage area where he’s waiting, sitting on a crate.

“Thanks for the clothes, I guess. Where did you even get these?”

“Previous… entanglements.”

“Entanglements?”

“You know what I meant,” he says, standing up.

“So on top of being your ‘job’, do you think I’m gonna be another one of your ‘entanglements’, too??” you ask, placing a hand on your hip.

“No! No, I gave them to you because… I just feel bad for you.”

Oh, now you’re absolutely livid.

“I don’t need anyone’s pity!” you yell, getting in his face (well really helmet).

“I’m just trying to help you out,” he says, calmly.

“Help me out? By taking me in for a bounty? To people who are most definitely going to kill me?” you press further.

He’s silent, not looking at you and keeping his visor locked onto the floor.

“So what is it then? Am I just another job to you or am I someone you actually care about? Because I can’t be both,” you say, folding your arms.

“I can’t… I can’t answer that,” he says softly.

You scoff and turn on your heel, heading back to his sleep quarters.

“Don’t follow me,” you snap over your shoulder.

You hear him sigh in defeat again before climbing up the ladder to the cockpit. Serves him right.

You lay down on his cot and turn over so you’re facing the wall away from the door. You close your eyes and try to fall asleep but as you’re alone with your thoughts you realize that some part of you… feels bad for him? As backwards as that sounds, you can tell that he was being genuine with you and so what if he feels bad for you? Who wouldn’t feel bad for you right now? He must not usually develop feelings for his bounties, and he’s probably facing some internal conflict right now. You sigh and get out of the cot, heading over to the ladder. You climb up to the cockpit and in a small voice you say, “Hey… I’m sorry about all of that.”

“Don’t be sorry. You were right,” he says, turning around in the pilot seat.

You sit in the passenger seat and face him, taking a deep breath before asking, “Do you… Do you have feelings for me?”

He tenses up at your question and you can visibly see him sit up straighter after hearing that.

“I’m not… used to it. Everything I’ve ever had with anyone was just some meaningless fling.”

You nod, just letting him finish. This is like the most you’ve ever heard him speak in one sitting.

“And I feel stupid because you’re one of my bounties. I’m not supposed to do this. I’m not supposed to develop feelings or get attached,” he continues, sounding even more frustrated and confused.

“Yeah, it’s not ideal… But we still have a while to go… Why not make the best of it?”

“Really? You’re okay with that?”

“Might as well enjoy myself before I go,” you shrug.

“Okay,” he sighs, “What do you want to do now?”

“Are you tired?”

He tilts his helmet to the side and before he can answer you speak first.

“That was a stupid question. Of course, you’re tired. I’ve been hogging your cot.”

“I don’t mind,” he chuckles.

You nod and climb back down the ladder before heading back to his cot. It’s pretty small, like it’s probably barely big enough for him. He meets you in his sleeping quarters and leans against the door frame.

“How do you want to do this?” you ask.

“Hm, we’ll probably have to spoon.”

“O-Okay,” you say, trying to ignore the excitement brewing between your legs.

He gets on the cot first, laying on his side and facing you.

“You sleep with all that on?”

“Not all of it, but it’s just a nap, right?”

“Mhm, just a nap,” you say, getting on the cot with him and pressing your back up against his chest.

He pulls the blanket over you two and puts a protective arm around your waist. Soon enough you hear soft snores coming out as heavy breathing underneath the helmet. He really was tired.

You wake up to the feeling of something hard pressed up against your lower back and ass. The excitement brews between your legs again. You think about how strong Mando is and how he can manhandle you and how big his cock probably is and– yeah, you're definitely wet.

You feel Mando stir behind you so you shake your ass a bit. That seems to wake him up instantly because you feel a hand grip your hip tightly followed by some cursing under his breath. You lift your leg so it’s resting over his, spreading your legs apart. He takes the hand that’s on your hip and moves it to your inner thigh, slowly inching closer to the waistband of your pants. You press your ass into him more and finally, he’s had enough of your teasing. He pushes the blanket to the side and dives his hand down your pants, running his gloved fingers along your entrance. You rest your head against him and close your eyes, reveling in the feeling of his fingers stroking you and spreading around your wetness. He pulls his hand back for a second and you think he’s done but he’s really tugging off his glove and returning his hand to your entrance, wanting to feel your wetness himself without the glove in the way. He pushes a finger in slowly, listening to the soft gasps you let out at the feeling of his finger entering you. He curls it against your walls slowly, just to get you extra worked up before inserting another. You grind your ass against him as he fingers you, getting wetter but also wishing for something besides his fingers.

“Need your cock,” you whine.

“Not until you cum first,” he growls in your ear.

You whimper and let him continue to finger you, his fingers pushing up against your g-spot perfectly. He brings his thumb to your clit, rubbing small circles and with that you’re at the brink of orgasm. You cum around his fingers, your cunt fluttering and soaking his hand down to his wrist as he whispers words of praise in your ear.

“Good girl, cyar’ika,” he says. You make a mental note to ask him what that word means later when you’re not distracted.

As you ride out your high you ask him, “Can I please have your cock now?”

“I suppose,” he teases.

He moves so he’s laying on his back and you shift to straddle him. You position yourself so that his cock is in front of you so you can pull it out and stroke it. You run your hand over the bulge in his flight suit and hear him groan under the helmet. You pull his cock out and take a look at it twitching in your hand. Somehow it’s everything you pictured it would be; long, girthy, and uncut. You start by rubbing your thumb over the head; over the pre-cum leaking out of the tip before stroking the entire length. The precum leaking from the tip spreads onto his head and down the shaft, lubing it up for him as you continue to stroke it, getting him extra hard and extra frustrated before you sit on it. He folds his arms behind his head, visor fixed on your hand on his cock. You stop stroking him for a moment to pull off your shirt over your head, watching the visor move from his cock to your chest. You give him a few more strokes before you inch up to straddle him above his cock, sinking down onto it slowly and feeling it stretch your walls. He groans at the feeling of his cock being enveloped in your warmth. You take a moment to get adjusted to his size before leaning forward. You rest your hands on his breastplate, staring directly into his visor as you rock your hips back and forth. But as you move your breast bounce perfectly and his gaze trails down to them, watching them move as you fuck yourself on his cock. He tugs off his other glove, scrambling to bring them to your breasts already, caressing the outline of them before taking your nipples between his fingertips.

“You take it so well, cyar’ika,” he says, coming out as a low, modulated purr from under the helmet.

You moan in response just as you pull your hips back, feeling his cock hit all of the deepest angles inside you.

“M-Mando, I’m gonna cum,” you moan.

“Din,” he says sternly.

“W-What?” you say, blissed out and barely hanging on.

“My name is Din. Say my name when you cum,” he growls, pinching your nipples on the last word.

“Yes, Din,” you say, continuing to grind your hips until you feel the floodgates open.

“Din, I’m coming,” you moan, watching him nod as your eyes are locked onto his visor.

You cum with him buried deep inside you, your cunt convulsing around him. The movement of your hips slows down as you cum, closing your eyes and throwing your head back in pleasure as you take in the moment of feeling full. Your orgasm pulls his own from him, spilling ropes of his cum inside you. You’re silently grateful for your implant at this moment as you feel his warm release inside you. You lean forward and rest against his chest, still keeping him inside you until he goes soft and eventually slips out. You feel his bare hand stroke your back as you lay against him.

“You’re incredible,” he says absentmindedly, resting both of his hands flat against your back.

“Thanks, Din,” you giggle, emphasizing his name.

He chuckles nervously and you can tell he’s embarrassed.

“Do you normally not tell anyone your name?” you ask, sitting back up.

“Not unless I trust you.”

“You think you can trust me?” you ask.

“I think so,” he says softly.

You lean forward so you’re face to face with the helmet, looking deeply into the visor.

“I wish I could see you,” you say, not realizing what words are slipping out of your mouth.

“I know, cyar’ika.”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s just… a Mando’a word.”

“For what?” you chuckle, pressing further.

“...Sweetheart.”

Oh.

Butterflies form in your stomach and in order to prevent him from seeing that stupid smile that’s about to form on your face, you lean forward and rest your head against his chest again.

“Is that… Is that okay?”

“Mhm. It’s more than okay, Din,” you say softly, trying to hide the giddiness in your voice.

Your stomach grumbles as you rest against him. You silently curse it for ruining the sweet moment, but Din asks, “When was the last time you’ve eaten, cyar’ika?”

“Uhh, it’s been a while.”

“Let me get you something,” he says gently.

You sigh and reluctantly roll over so he can slide off the cot. He returns with rations and says, “I know it’s not much but I don’t want you to go hungry.”

“This is fine, Din. Thank you,” you say, grabbing the rations from him and going to get out of the cot.

“No, no. You need to rest,” he says sternly.

“What? Why?”

“You haven’t eaten in a while and… you just did all the work.”

“Oh yeah, I guess I did,” you chuckle, lying down and pulling the blanket over you.

“I’m gonna go check the ship’s course. You eat and rest, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod, getting comfortable.

He leaves and climbs the ladder to the cockpit. You already miss him next to you, but the truth is he needs a moment alone because he’s morally confused. The last time he developed some sort of emotional attachment to a bounty he was briefly kicked out of the guild, and the Mandalorian covert had to relocate. Who knows what kind of consequences he could face for this? But when he comes back down to the sleeping quarters and watches you peacefully rest he knows two things; he has undeniable feelings for you, and he needs to make a decision. There are still roughly eighteen cycles or so left of the journey. He has some time to make a decision, but he better start contemplating now.

You wake up after who knows how long. The days blend together on the ship, especially when you feel like you’re in an endless cycle of sleeping for unspecified chunks of time. You look over and see Din sitting beside you and sleeping, his leg up and foot resting on his knee. The visor is angled at the floor, and his snoring is coming out as heavy breathing again.

“Din,” you say quietly, lightly shaking his knee.

He wakes up, slightly startled for a moment before realizing it’s just you.

“What is it, cyar’ika? Are you okay?”

“I’m okay. I just wanted to know how long we have left.”

“Around eighteen standard days or so.”

You nod and lay back down, trying to ignore the pit forming in your stomach at the thought of your time ending together. In the back of your mind you hope that some part of him will change his mind and will choose to not bring you in. But he’s a professional and this is how he makes a living. Who are you to change that for him?

“Can I ask you something?” he says quietly.

“Sure.”

“What did you do to get a bounty on your head?”

“I used to live in the lower levels of Coruscant where there’s a lot of violence. Garo and his gang would extort people for protection, myself included. It’s dangerous to be a woman living there alone. But eventually I didn’t have enough credits anymore, and they started coming after me… So I ran.”

“...I see.”

“Not what you expected, huh?” you chuckle.

“No, I-”

“I’m not some big, bad criminal. I’m just a normal person who got mixed up with the wrong crowd.”

“I know. I’m not judging you,” he says gently.

You nod, and he tells you to get some more rest. You happily oblige.

And so over the next two weeks, you fall into a routine of sleeping, eating rations, having sex, using the refresher and repeating. Your feelings for him grow even deeper, and you wonder if he’s feeling the same. You try not to think about how leaving him when he drops you back off on Coruscant will be one of the most devastating things you have to go through.

You have roughly four standard days left of your journey, and you’re about to do something you haven’t done yet; give Din a blowjob. He’s sitting in the pilot seat, facing the control panel, and you’re kneeling on the floor. You watch his cock pitch a tent in his flight suit and lightly run your hands over the bulge. His breath hitches at your touch as you release his cock from the fabric but instead of taking it in your hand, you press kisses along his groin and to the base of his shaft. He groans, aching for his cock in your mouth already. You decide he’s been teased enough and trail your tongue from the base of his shaft up to the tip, swirling your tongue around the head before taking his full length (or as much as you can fit) in your mouth. You bob your head up and down, cupping his balls with one hand and wrapping the other around the base of his cock. You glance up at him as you suck him off, looking straight into the visor and imagining what he looks like right now underneath the helmet; what he looks like when he’s feeling immense pleasure.

He lets out a strained, “cyar’ika” and you notice his hands beside him clenching into fists as you suck harder. His sounds become incessant, and you feel him get restless; he’s about to cum. But before you can bury his cock deeper in your mouth, he grabs each side of your face, stopping you.

“Not so fast, cyar’ika. I’m coming inside you when I fuck you,” he growls.

You nod, a little bit of his pre-cum mixed with your saliva dripping down your chin. He swipes it away with his thumb and says, “Over the control panel. Now.”

You get up, kicking off your pants and pulling your shirt over your head. You turn around so you’re facing the view from the ship, in disbelief that you’re about to get fucked with the view of hyperspace in front of you. You bend over and rest your arms on the control panel, careful not to touch any buttons, and stick your ass up for him. He gives your ass a squeeze before taking off his gloves and bringing two fingers to your cunt, running them up and down your entrance. You whine at the feather-light touch while he takes the time to play with your wetness and get you riled up. He chuckles at your frustration before pushing a finger inside you. He works your walls, swiftly adding a second finger and making you ache for his cock more. He pulls his fingers from you once he thinks you’ve been teased enough and slicks his cock with your wetness. He grabs your hips and pulls you into him, thrusting his cock into you in one clean motion.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, cyar’ika,” he says.

You moan in response and you feel his cock stretch your walls. He reaches around you, bringing a hand to your clit. He rubs small circles around it as his cock gets buried deeper inside you. Tears spring in the corners of your eyes as he rails you over the control panel and stimulates your clit. With one last slam of his hips, you’re coming around his cock, stars sprinkling your vision as your orgasm overtakes you. A warm, tingling feeling originates at your core and spreads outwards, making your knees weak. He keeps you upright as you ride out your high, the convulsing feeling of your cunt drawing his own orgasm from him. You feel his cock spill his release inside you, filling you with the familiar feeling of his cum inside you. He pulls out once he’s finished and sits on the pilot seat, catching his breath. You stand upright and stretch before sitting on his lap and wrapping an arm around him, resting your head against his helmet.

You’re both silent for a moment, and you know why. You only have a few more standard days left of your journey, and it’s suddenly getting real for you both that this is all about to end.

“Can I say something?” he says quietly.

“Of course, Din.”

“I think… I think I love you,” he says with a shaky breath.

“You think?” you chuckle.

“I’m sorry that came out wrong. I mean, we haven't been together that long and I think I’m-”

“Relax! I think what you’re trying to say is that you’re falling for me. And I feel the same way.”

“You said it a lot better than I could’ve,” he grumbles.

You laugh and rest against him for a few moments before continuing.

“Well, don’t fall any harder because it’s all ending soon,” you sigh.

“Don’t remind me,” he says softly.

“I won’t,” you whisper, “We still have a few more cycles left. Let’s enjoy it while we can, shall we?”

He nods, and the two of you sit there silently, just enjoying each other’s company and trying to ignore the dread you’re both feeling.

Your journey with Din has come to an end. You’re strapped in the passenger seat as he begins his descent into Coruscant. Both of you are silent. You feel like if you open your mouth you’ll just start crying, and Din doesn’t even know what to say at all, for fear of making the whole situation worse.

He lands on a docking yard, and before you exit the Razor Crest, he stops at the weapon storage and hands you your blaster and dagger.

“Just in case you need them,” he says in a gloomy voice.

And with that, you start to head down to the lower levels of Coruscant. He places a hand on the small of your back as you walk through any crowded areas. It makes your heart flutter, but it also makes you heartbroken; heartbroken that this is the last physical contact you’ll get with him forever.

You head to Garo’s lair in the most obscure place of Coruscant and start to feel nauseous. This is it. Not only are you about to leave Din, but you’re pretty sure Garo and his goons are going to kill you since you can’t pay him back. Din knocks on the door, and one of his associates answers the door, giving you a nasty look. You head inside with Din and walk to the room where Garo is waiting. You wonder if Garo will wait until he’s gone to kill you. You hope he does. You don’t want Din to have to see that.

“Well, look who it is,” Garo says, sitting at a table counting credits.

Neither of you say anything as you step closer, stopping in front of his table.

“Good job, Mando. Hopefully she didn’t give you too much trouble. Bring her to me,” he continues.

One of his goons grabs you by the arm and drags you over to him. You look at Din one last time, fearing that this is it. They’re going to kill you in front of him.

Garo rises from his chair, looking you in the eye with a devious expression on his face.

“And let me guess, you don’t have the credits you owe me, do you?”

You say nothing, paralyzed with fear.

“Answer me!” he yells.

You quickly shake your head no, feeling your knees go weak.

“Just as I thought,” he sighs, grabbing the blaster from his belt and holding it against your forehead.

“You knew this was coming, though, didn’t you?”

Tears spring in your eyes, for your own sake but also for Din’s. You can’t grasp why they’re making him watch this. He did the job, they should just pay him and let him go. You close your eyes and hope for all this to be over soon.

You hear a blaster go off, and you wince. But you’re still standing; still breathing. You open your eyes and see Garo on the floor, a blaster hole in the side of his head. You turn and look where it came from and see Din, with his blaster still drawn. Garo’s goons start firing, and Din shouts, “Run, cyar’ika! Back to the Crest!”

You’ve escaped this place once before, and you can do it again. You bolt, heading for the exit and hearing all the commotion happening behind you. You place your hand on your blaster attached to your belt, prepared to start firing behind you. But they seem to be too preoccupied with taking down Din to worry about chasing after you for right now. A part of you is worried they’ll get Din but you know he’s strong and well protected. But it’s weird not having him by your side as you run for your life. You exit onto the crowded street and push past groups of people, not caring who you hit or run into. You sprint back to the docking yard, heading back up to the Crest. You don’t know how to open the exit ramp so you anxiously pace back and forth, waiting for him to suddenly appear.

And he does, running towards you and lowering the exit ramp hurriedly.

“I bought us some time,” he says quickly, “But we have to go. Now.”

You run inside and head up the ladder to the cockpit, wondering where in the galaxy Din is going to take you. Garo’s reach is powerful and if he could send someone to find you on Tatooine, surely one of his associates will also send someone else after you, the both of you now.

Din meets you in the cockpit and prepares the Crest for takeoff, lifting off quickly. But to no one’s surprise, there are ships following you. He speeds up, trying his hardest to get into space quickly so he can make the jump to lightspeed.

And just as the ships behind you start shooting, he makes the jump, sighing in relief that you’re safe… for now.

“Where are we going?”

“I know a place… somewhere they won’t find us.”

“I doubt that, Din. If they sent you to find me on Tatooine, they’ll send someone after us both. No matter where we go.”

He spins around in the pilot seat to face you and says, “Have you heard of Seelos?”

“...No?”

“Exactly. They won’t find us there.”

“Well, what kind of planet is it?”

He’s silent, like he’s nervous to reveal what Seelos is like. And then it dawns on you.

“Don't tell me it’s a-”

“It’s a desert. Because I know you love them so much,” he deadpans.

You sigh but before you can say anything else he says, “But there’s also mountains. We can live there.”

“I’d live anywhere as long as it's with you, Din.”

“Me, too, cyar’ika.”

You take a deep breath, feeling at peace for the first time in a while. Knowing you have Din by your side you know you’re safe, always.

End note: I hope you guys enjoyed this one! I feel the most in my element writing for my silly tin can man!! If you have any requests for Din, send them my way! 🖤🖤🖤

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mandos-mind-trick · 11 months

Text

00:00 (Zero O'Clock)

Summary: On the run from your family, you meet your soulmate after he's sent to retrieve you. Can he offer you what you've been yearning for since your mark first appeared? Or will he turn out to be just like everyone else in your life?

Loosely based on the BTS song of the same name.

Pairing: Hunter x reader Soulmate AU

Warnings: NSFW, smut, unprotected sex, fingering, some brief mention of kink related things, brief mention of a knife kink, canon typical violence, some semi-descriptive mentions of abuse and child abuse, some angst, lots of fluff, as usual reader has a backstory for plot.

A/N: I'm trying a bit of a new format with this one, at least as to how the story progresses. I'm not sure about the beginning, but let me know what you think.

MASTERLIST

Five Minutes.

Your legs are aching almost as much as your lungs, but you don’t stop.

You can’t stop.

Tree roots and vines threaten to trip you with every step, but you push onwards. Get to town. You just have to get to town and you can stop.

Three minutes.

The timer on your wrist is like some twisted countdown. When it appeared over ten years ago, you were confused. Your soulmate couldn’t be that much younger than you. You had thought perhaps they were a different species, one that matures faster than others.

Ten years, forty-seven days, six hours, and fifteen minutes.

That had been the number seared onto your skin one day, the numbers slowly counting down as time went on. You tried to mark the exact day on the calendar, but it was difficult. You went off galactic standard time, as your countdown seemed to match how the hours and days passed for you.

You daydreamed constantly about your soulmate. You researched species after species, trying to find any sort of answer you could as to why your soulmate mark had shown up so late.

It wasn’t until the war when things began making sense.

It wasn’t until the war that things began falling apart for you.

The sudden appearance of the clone army, millions upon millions of beings created over the ten years before the war started, answered many people’s questions. Millions upon millions of beings in the galaxy that had lived for years without a soulmate link suddenly having theirs appear in the last ten years.

Your soulmate’s a clone.

Your father was not pleased.

Your home planet was not part of the Republic. It had always been independent, and once the war started, the governing body decided to side with the Separatists. Your father was a loyal supporter of this decision, funneling your family’s vast wealth and resources to aiding the Confederacy of Independent Systems.

You thought the entire war was stupid. Why couldn’t people just be happy with being either part of the Republic or not?

The first time you spoke out against it in front of your father, he dragged you from the room and beat you with his belt.

The second time you spoke out against it, at a dinner with several important political figures including your grandfather, he beat you right there in the dining hall.

When he discovered your soulmate timer, it got worse.

He tried everything he could to remove it.

You knew it was useless. Even cutting the skin off with a knife, the mark would only appear again as it healed. Burns, scars, even chopping the limb off wouldn’t work. It would simply appear elsewhere.

Your father thankfully never went that far.

Your hatred towards him only deepened as time went on.

News of your grandfather’s death reaches you shortly before the end of the war. You don’t cry. You barely knew him, and what you knew of him was that he was equally as cruel as your father.

As the war ends, so does the Republic.

Shortly after, the Empire is on your doorstep demanding allegiance. They get it, and the occupation begins.

Six months later, you run away.

You run and keep running. A month later, the bounty hunters begin appearing. You evade them easily enough, and when you can’t evade them, you make sure they can’t follow you.

It’s been almost a year since the war ended. Your timer is still steadily counting down. Your soulmate is still alive somewhere. You debate trying to find them, but you know finding clones means getting close to the Empire. You know nothing good would come from getting caught by the Empire. Even worse, they might return you home.

Two minutes.

Your feet hit solid ground, relieved to be free of the damp mud you had been running through for the past ten minutes. You race into town, hoping to lose him.

He had appeared an hour ago, your little shack that had been offering you reprieve his target. He’s here for you, sent by the Empire or your father, you’re not sure. Either way, you’re not keen to find out.

You were gone long before he reached your abandoned hut. You had headed towards town, hoping to reach the spaceport and convince someone to take you to their next stop before he even noticed you weren’t in the hut anymore.

Except it was a long trek to town, and this wasn’t a normal bounty hunter.

The first shot had narrowly missed you.

A warning.

You had taken off running, zig-zagging through trees as fast as you could. The shots had followed right behind you until they had died out, leaving nothing but the sound of the jungle, and your own heavy breathing.

He’s right behind you. You know he is. You should have run for it from the start.

You desperately need to stop. You need air, your lungs beginning to spasm painfully. You’re not going to get much farther without a reprieve. You hope you can lose him in the evening crowd, ducking into an alley.

You press your back against the wall, putting a hand to your wheezing chest. Your eyes screw shut for a moment, urging air back into your lungs. Your legs are trembling like they may give out under you, but you know you don’t have long. He’s probably already in town. You need to stay ahead of him. Pray you can catch someone leaving at the spaceport and escape.

One minute.

Your soulmate is about to appear. Maybe they’ll help you get out of this mess. You can’t reach the spaceport in that short amount of time. You glance at both ends of the alley. There’s no one. So who-

A hand wraps around your throat, slamming your back against the wall behind you. Your hand is quick to grab your knife, aiming it for the throat, but his hand wraps around your wrist, stopping it.

“Give up, kid.” He drawls, tightening his grip around your wrist until you’re forced to drop the knife. “You’re not going to win this.”

You struggle against his hold, even though you know he’s right.

30 seconds.

Just thirty more seconds. You can fight that long.

You drive your knee up into his stomach, but he doesn’t release you. His grip tightens around your throat, black dots beginning to form in your vision. You drive your fist into his elbow, his arm bending awkwardly. His fingers slip from your throat and you inhale sharply, your vision swimming for a moment.

“Let her go.”

You both look up in shock at the voice. Modulated by a familiar looking helmet, grey with an orange stripe down the middle. He’s standing at the entry to the alley, blaster drawn and pointed at the bounty hunter.

“She’s my quarry.” The bounty hunter says, hand dropping to his own blaster. “I found her first.”

You quickly duck, covering your head as the shots ring out. Your gaze is drawn down to your timer, eyes widening a bit.

00:00:00:00:00

This is your soulmate?

You push yourself back up, glancing at the body of the bounty hunter for a moment before your gaze falls on the clone. His armor is pieced together, lacking the normal consistency you associated with clones and their armor. Had you been wrong? Is he not a clone after all?

“It’s you.” You whisper, dropping the knife from your hand.

“Give up the fight, kid.” He says, voice distorted by his helmet, blaster trained on you now.

You make a face. “I’m not a kid. I’m older than you.” You press your back against the wall. “When I pictured us meeting, this wasn’t what I had in mind.”

He tilts his head, and you can picture the confusion on his face. You hold up your arm, revealing your soulmate timer now at zero. He lowers his head slightly, looking at it. He glances down at his own arm for a moment before lowering his blaster. You watch him fiddle with his vambrace, tugging it down with his sleeve enough to reveal tanned skin underneath. He’s quiet, staring down at his skin for a few moments.

You could run. You could use his distraction to try and escape.

You don’t want to. You had been destined to meet at this moment. Since your creation, maybe even before.

Maybe he can help you.

But he was sent after you.

He wouldn’t really return you to your father, would he? You had heard about clones being forced to reject their soulmates under the Republic. Was the Empire enforcing that too? He wouldn’t...would he?

Your legs are shaking still, your body exhausted from running for so long. Always on edge, always watching your back. You slip down the wall, sitting on the ground. You stare up at him, finding him watching you. “Are you with the Empire?” You ask.

“No.” He says, straightening up a bit. “We were sent after you by a third party.”

“Oh.” You say, nodding. “Are you...going to take me back to my father?”

He stares at you quietly for a long time. This was going to complicate things for both of you. Would he still return you to your father, even now knowing you’re his soulmate? Did you try to run, leave behind your soulmate to try and save yourself? You know it’s only going to get harder to be apart from here. Now that you’ve met, the longing will start, the need to be close.

That’s why the Republic wanted clones to reject their soulmates. Not even the best programming can undo the natural need to be close to one’s soulmate.

“I’ve caught her.” He speaks into his comm. “Get back to the ship and meet us at the spaceport.”

“You should just reject me now.” You say, and he looks at you again. You wish you could see his face, read his expressions. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do? At least, that’s what the Republic wanted.” You shrug. “It’ll hurt less for you later when my father decides to kill me.”

“Why would he go through all this trouble to get you back if he’s just going to kill you?” He asks, stepping closer.

You snort. “You don’t know anything about me, do you?”

“You’re a runaway rich kid, and your father is willing to pay a lot to get you back.” He says, wrapping a hand around your arm. He hauls you to your feet far too easily, spinning you so you’re pressed against the wall.

“Moving a bit fast, aren’t we?” You quip, his hands gripping your wrists behind you.

“Can it, kid.” He grunts, cuffing your arms behind your back.

“I’m not a kid.” You huff, tugging against his hold, but you quickly give in.

This wasn’t what you were expecting when you pictured meeting your soulmate. Of course, you’d spent most of the war hearing nothing but propaganda against the Republic and the clone army, so you really didn’t know what to expect. They’re not quite the mindless soldiers like you’d been told, at least that’s what you’d discern since this group was apparently working independently of the Empire.

“You’re making a mistake.” You say as he takes your arm, tugging you towards the end of the alley.

“I’m sure you see it that way.” He says, leading you onward.

You plant your feet, trying to get him to look at you. “No, I’m trying to warn you. If you actually bothered to look into who I am, you never would have taken this job in the first place.”

He finally stops, turning to look at you. “Why do you care?”

“You’re deserters, aren’t you? I’ve only heard propaganda, and seen clones in passing once, but I do know most of them are loyal to the Empire now. Most of them aren’t out here playing mercenary and bounty hunter. You received coordinates for a place to drop me off, right? Somewhere in the D’Astan sector? You know what that sector looks like right now? It’s crawling with Imperial troops and ships. The war had barely ended and they were already invading. I ran because my father is a cruel man who spent my whole life beating me to submission. He’s a weak man who can’t stand things not being in his control. The Empire has completely taken over and I’m one of the few things he has left he can control. I don’t want that.”

He stares at you for a while. You know he’s thinking over your words. He won’t trust you, not completely. If you can just get to him a little, though, you may be able to save your own skin, and maybe his as well.

“You’re my soulmate.” It feels unreal saying those words. You’d pictured it a thousand times, and yet, none of them had come close. “If nothing else, trust me on that basis. I know you’ve been told your whole life to reject me. I don’t want you to.”

He stares at you for a moment longer before turning, tugging you along as he makes his way towards the starport. Tears prick your vision. You have no idea what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling. For all you know, he doesn’t believe you and he’ll take the risk returning you to your father.

He has no reason to trust you.

For all you know, he’s going to reject you.

If that’s the case, though, why hasn’t he done it yet?

“Can I at least know your name?” You ask softly, looking up at him.

He stays silent, walking you into the starport. Thankfully it’s late enough that it's not very busy. This looks bad, it looks really bad for you.

“Hunter!”

Of all things a child runs towards you two.

“We were getting worried.” The child says as Hunter leads you towards an Omicron-class ship.

He leads you up the steps, three more clones inside. Well, at least you think they’re clones. None of them quite look the same, at least size and height-wise. One is lankier and is wearing goggles, the other is a giant of a man, and the third has a cybernetic arm and legs.

Hunter pushes you down into one of the seats rather roughly, pointing his finger in your face. “Don’t move.” He says threateningly, leaving you sitting there.

It’s not like you have much of a choice. There’s not much room to move anyway, as the large one and the child join you. The ship rumbles as it comes to life, forcing you to press back into the seat as it lifts off the ground. Your arms are pressed uncomfortably behind you, hands going numb as the cuffs cut off circulation.

Your stomach churns with the familiar jump to hyperspace, Hunter not returning until the ship is well on its way to most likely your drop off point. You’re nervous, not just for yourself. Hunter must not have believed you. You’re sad for them, and yourself.

The large one pulls off his helmet with a sigh. Though he’s very large, his face is unmistakably that of a clone’s. They really must have been hired by a third party. Your father never would have stooped that low. He’s in for one hell of a surprise when they show up to hand you off.

Your gaze is pulled away from the big one as Hunter enters the hull, removing his own helmet. He doesn’t look like you expect a clone to. His hair is long, held back by a red bandana. He has the rugged face of a clone, but the left half is covered in a skull tattoo. It’s intimidating, just like his gaze as it burns into you.

The one with the cybernetics follows him, his helmet removed as well. He’s paler and gaunter than the others, a headset wrapped around his head. He takes a seat at the computer, typing rapidly.

“If what you said is true, we can’t risk turning you in.” Hunter says.

“Why would I lie to you?” You ask, though you already know the answer.

“To save your own skin.” He says. “I believe you, that you were running for a reason. But that could be any reason. Not just the story you told me.”

“Then by all means.” You say, trying to get comfortable with your hands behind your back. “Research away.”

It’s quiet for a few moments, part of the screen visible over their heads from where you’re sitting. You are telling the truth to them. You have no reason to lie. Especially not to your soulmate.

“You’re a Separatist?” Cybernetics asks you.

You roll your eyes. “You know, just because someone lived on a Separatist planet doesn't mean they were Separatists too. I hated them. I thought the war was stupid. Why couldn’t they just be happy not being part of the Republic and the Republic just leave them alone?”

“I think it was a bit more complex than that.” Hunter says.

You roll your eyes again. “Well, it’s not like I was ever getting the truth there. We were fed Separatist propaganda for years, even before the war started.”

The ship goes quiet again, broken only by the sound of Cybernetics typing at the computer.

"She's telling the truth." He finally says, breaking the quiet. "Imperial files have that whole sector listed under their control.”

“We can’t risk revealing ourselves.” Hunter says. “But we need those credits.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes once more. “If you bothered to check my bag, you’d see I have plenty of credits in there.”

Their eyes fall to where your bag has been placed on the chair behind them. Hunter opens your bag, digging through until he finds the box of credits. He opens it, looking inside.

“That’s far more than we’ll get from Cid for this job.” Cybernetics says.

“You can have them.” You say. “It’s my dad’s money anyway. I took what he had on hand before I left.”

“You’d just let us take this.” Hunter asks speculatively.

“If it means saving both our skins and keeping me from having to see my father ever again, then yes. You can have my whole bag, if you’d like.”

Hunter stares down at the credits for a moment before heading into the cockpit once more.

“Hey, Cybernetics.” You call before he can follow Hunter.

“My name’s Echo.” He says with a frown, obviously offended by your nickname.

“Okay, how was I supposed to know that? It’s not like you’ve been very hospitable.” You shrug as he disappears into the cockpit too. You nearly jump out of your skin as you turn, finding the child standing next to you. “Oh my, you’re a sneaky little thing.”

“Sorry.” She laughs. “My name’s Omega. That’s Wrecker.” The giant clone waves.

You nod back, your arms still cuffed behind your back. “Hello.”

Hunter reappears, coming to stand in front of you. “If you’re tricking us in any way, I will not hesitate to shoot you.”

“If you knew the things my dad did to me growing up, the things he would do to me if he ever got his hands on me again, you wouldn’t hesitate to trust me when I say I want absolutely nothing to do with him or the Empire.” You stare into his eyes as he kneels in front of you. “He’s a horrible man and he can waste all of his money and resources looking for me for all I care.”

Hunter undoes your cuffs, and you rub your sore wrists. “We’ll drop you off on the next inhabited planet we can find.”

You frown. “So that’s it? We’re not even going to talk about it?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” He says, turning his back to you as he sits at the computer.

“Like hell there isn’t. If you’re that dead set, then just reject me now and get it over with so we can both move on with our lives.”

“I can’t trust you.” He says over his shoulder.

“I’m not asking you to trust me.” Your voice wavers a bit. “I’m asking you to talk to me. Either talk to me, or just reject me and get it over with.”

***

The ship is quiet as it floats aimlessly through space. You gaze out the viewport at the thousands of stars in front of you. Hunter is in the seat across from you, his seat turned to face yours.

“I have to protect them.” He says. “If anything happens to them...”

“I know.” You nod, turning to look at him. “They’re lucky to have you. All my life I’ve been wishing for someone to care that much about me. Someone who would protect me. My mother was always too scared he’d turn on her if she said anything. It wasn’t long after the war started that I figured it out, that my soulmate was a clone. My father wasn’t happy about it. He tried everything he could to remove my timer. It never worked.”

Hunter tenses a bit at your words. It feels good, talking about it finally. Even if he did decide nothing was to come of your link, it still felt good to tell someone about what had happened to you. You’ve never had that chance before.

“I never thought much about my link.” Hunter says, turning his gaze out the viewport. “I couldn’t. The Kaminoans created the rules about seeking out soulmates and the Republic agreed. I didn’t have time, anyway. We were always moving, always on a mission. I hoped the war would end before the timer reached zero. I’m not sure I could have rejected my soulmate. Most of the clones ignored those rules. They kept their links, secretly keeping contact with their soulmates.” He shakes his head. “I figured it would happen when it happened. I didn’t think it would be like this.”

“What, that you’d desert the army and wind up bounty hunting your soulmate who was a Separatist?”

“Something like that.” A smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

“Where do we go from here, Hunter?” You ask, turning to look at him. You take in his profile. The skull tattoo, the slope of his nose, the line of his jaw. He’s handsome. Ruggedly handsome. Not totally what you would consider your type, but perhaps the link to him was more than just looks.

You’d been raised with the idea of becoming someone’s trophy. You’d never hold power in your own family. You’d be someone’s pretty little wife who served drinks and made babies and made her husband look good. You’d marry someone just like your father who would beat you with a belt if you spoke out in opposition against him.

Then your mark had shown up, and with it came the idea of something else. Something more. Something different.

Hunter is different.

So very different.

He turns to look at you, his eyes studying your face. “What is it you want?”

You smile, leaning back in the seat. “I want to live on a farm on a small planet with kind people that care about each other. I want to care for animals and to play in the dirt. I want a house that’s just the right size. I want to be happy and safe away from politics and war and my family.” You stare into his eyes, deep into the rich depths of them. “I want to be happy with my soulmate.”

***

You lay in bed, staring out the open window. The cool morning air is blowing in, rustling the curtains. The sun is just starting to rise, painting the sky in yellows and oranges. It’s quiet, the only noise the occasional bird song as the world begins to wake up. It’ll be warm today, the perfect time for you to finish planting your garden for the season.

An arm wraps around your waist, warm lips pressing kisses to your exposed neck. You smile, leaning back against the broad chest.

“Morning.” You murmur, biting your lip as his stubble tickles the sensitive skin.

He murmurs his greeting against your neck, his hand trailing up your bare side.

“We have to get Omega up for school soon.” You say, his lips working on sucking a mark onto the skin under your ear. “And we should take that milk into town.” His hand slides higher, cupping one of your breasts. “And we need to get the guest room ready for when Crosshair arrives.”

Hunter hums in your ear, pulling you tighter against his chest. You can feel him, hard against your lower back. “Worry about that later. Right now, I need to make love to my wife.”

It’s been nearly two years since that fateful day your soulmate hunted you down during your escape from your father.

Not long after, you had found this place. It was almost exactly what you had imagined, what you had told Hunter you wanted. It had felt too good to be true, at least until you began to settle in. It took some adjusting for the others as well, but they eventually found their places.

Echo decided to leave with Rex, feeling it was the right choice. You know it hurt the others to let him go, but you felt if he was happier fighting with the rebellion, then he should. You still see them occasionally when they drop by for a quick rest.

During one of those rests, they had brought a new figure into the house. They had stumbled across Crosshair being held at a facility and had rescued him. That had been a big adjustment, as he dealt with a lot of trauma from his time being controlled by the Empire.

Eventually he healed, and he grew bored. Echo and Rex offered him a place with them, helping them, but he decided on a different route.

He became a bounty hunter.

He still stopped by every so often, spending a few days on the farm before he’d leave, heading out to catch more quarries and get more credits.

Wrecker and Tech settled into farm life nicely. You had worried Tech might work himself to a coma as he spent endless hours learning everything he could about the planet, its flora and fauna, its weather patterns and seasons, the native cultures. He’d set up the house to best utilize the weather and natural phenomena, picked the best crops to grow and which animals would be the easiest to keep. Wrecker was more than thrilled to help with the actual farm work, tending to the animals and the more heavy-lifting aspects that came with it.

Omega settled in best of all, making friends in the nearby town and starting school. Hunter’s happy in this domestic life. You can tell just looking at him. He had shared similar dreams with you, settling down on a remote planet so that Omega can just be a kid while she still can. A place that’s safe, far from the reach of the Empire.

It’s been quiet since you landed here. You haven’t seen or heard anything from the Empire or even a bounty hunter. You had all been a bit on edge at first, waiting for the inevitable arrival.

It never came.

You’ve been safe, you’ve all been safe, for the first time ever.

Marrying Hunter had been an easy decision. There was no legal benefit in it, since he was a clone and you had left your family and its name and its standing behind you. You had done it mostly because you wanted to. Adopting Omega had been the natural next step, of course. It hadn’t been a legal adoption, again for obvious reasons, but it still felt good to put a name to it all.

You’ve built a new family, one you actually want.

One you actually love.

Hunter turns your body just slightly, his hand trailing up to your jaw. He cups it gently, looking down at your face.

“What?” You ask, your cheeks flushing just a bit. Two years and you still feel a bit sheepish under his gaze.

“You’re just so beautiful.” He says, leaning down to kiss you.

“You say that all the time.” You murmur against his lips.

“Because it’s true.” He murmurs back, deepening the kiss.

You press your body back against him, touching as much of him as you can. He’s softened a bit in two years, you’ve noticed. With the constant strain of fighting and continuous missions behind them, they’ve all softened a bit. Farm work is hard, but not nearly as demanding as what they had spent their entire lives doing. He’s still just as strong, but the hard ridges of muscle are gone, leaving soft edges in their wake.

That, and finally getting some real food in them has helped.

You like him no matter what, but you prefer his soft body. It means he’s well rested and well fed. Something he deserves after everything.

His lips trail down your neck and shoulders, his deft fingers sliding from your jaw down your body, pausing just to pluck at one of your nipples playfully. You gasp quietly, reaching back to tangle a hand in his hair.

You’ve had plenty of time to learn each other’s bodies over the years. Your first time together had been rushed and desperate in the fresher on the Marauder. It had been a result of the yearning, the need deep within your souls, your very beings, to be linked together. To be as close as you possibly can to each other. It had been awkward fumbling in a too-small space.

Once you’d found your home, you both finally had space and privacy to take your time. Testing, trying, playing. A few times you’d allowed his knives in bed, and once you’d reenacted your first meeting, except that time ended with you being fucked handcuffed against a tree on the edge of your property.

Most of all, though, you enjoyed the quiet moments like this one. The gentle lovemaking on lazy mornings, the quick moments when you can slip away from your responsibilities. The nights when he gets that look in his eye during dinner and you know you’re going to end up tangled in the sheets, moaning his name.

Twelve years ago you never would have thought this could be real.

Two years ago you never thought this could be real.

Fate is hardly ever wrong.

You gasp quietly as his fingers slip between your thighs, finding your slick folds. He licks and nips at your skin, leaving a trail of marks no doubt. He has said more than once he loves your scent and the taste of your skin. It had taken some adjusting to his enhanced senses knowing he could hear and smell everything, and he has a habit of smelling and tasting everything.

His hand grips your thigh, draping it over his waist. His fingers slip through your folds again, gathering your slick on his fingers before he presses one into you. You’re already wet, anticipating a rather satisfying morning. He runs his thumb over your clit and you jolt a bit, still sensitive from the night before.

You moan quietly, tugging lightly on his hair. He groans in response, breath fanning across your ear. His scalp is sensitive. You’re able to reduce him to shivers by just raking your nails across it.

He slips a second finger into you, his pace lazy and slow as you writhe in his arms. You can cum easily just from his fingers, something he’s rather proud of. To you, it’s a testament of just how perfect you are for each other.

You know he wants you to cum on his cock this morning, yet you can’t help but whine as he pulls his fingers from you. He shushes you, shifting you ever so slightly before the head of his cock slips along your folds. You moan, walls clamping in anticipation. You’ll never get tired of him, of his body, of how perfectly it fits against yours. How perfectly it fits inside yours.

He slides in, in one go, pausing for a moment once he’s seated fully inside you. His arms wrap around you, holding you as close to him as he can. You can still feel it like the first time you had sex, the bond between you. The link tying you together. The energy thrumming through you and into him, and then back like a circle.

It’s something unexplainable. Something precious and unique and it fills you with warmth every time you think about it.

“Hunter,” You whisper, walls clamping around him.

He shushes you, lacing your fingers together. “I’ve got you.”

He begins to move, slow and steady. Your eyes drift closed, savoring the feel of him, the drag of his hips, the stretch of his cock. The softness of him around you. You feel safe in his arms, like nothing can hurt you, nothing can touch you. Nothing can ruin this moment.

You’re not going to last long, his fingers slipping between your thighs to circle your clit once more. Your legs shake, walls gripping him like your body is trying to hold onto this moment forever.

You cum quickly with a quiet cry of his name, his own thrusts getting sloppy as he moans quietly in your ear. He stills as he reaches his own release, his groans vibrating through your back.

You lay there for a moment, clinging to each other, basking in the early morning glow. Neither of you have the will to move, wanting to stay like this forever.

Alas, that’s not possible as a loud crash is heard from downstairs followed by Omegas giggles and Wrecker’s rather loud apologies.

“The kids are awake.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“Yes, it seems they are.” You say, a smile tugging at your lips.

“We should get up before they destroy the kitchen again.”

“Agreed.” You say, reluctantly pulling away from him.

You both dress, preparing to start another busy day. Hunter pauses by the door, leaning down to kiss you softly.

“I love you.” He says, practically beaming down at you.

You smile, tracing your fingers over his cheek. “I love you too.”

And you mean it.

Taglist:

@stressed-cherry, @6oceansofmoons, @ladytano420, @spicy-clones, @kaminocasey

#star wars #star wars fic #the bad batch #the bad batch fic #soulmate au #clones #tbb hunter x reader #bad batch hunter x reader

451 notes · View notes

lovelybucky1 · 11 months

Text

Join Me (Darth Vader x Reader)

warnings: dark themes, gender neutral! reader, unburnt vader (still wears the suit), violence, weapons, mentions of death, corruption, manipulation, sexual tension, 18+ minors dni

masterlist

This is humiliating. A Jedi, a warrior of your status, should not be sprawled across the floor in front of your sworn enemy. The two stormtroopers that brought you to Darth Vader’s chamber stand above you, looking down at where you landed when they threw you. You’re not sure how Vader’s forces managed to capture you so quickly. You have a feeling your fate will be similar to those of the remaining Jedi that have attempted to face Lord Vader: a cruel and brutal death.

Nevertheless, you lay on your stomach, hands cuffed with force-blocking bonds behind your back, and your legs rest uselessly behind you. You strain your neck to keep your head up, not wanting to give your captors to see you in such a state of defeat.

The Dark Lord looms over you from this high-backed throne. The room is dark with a fully black interior, but somehow his suit stands out from the void that seemingly engulfs you.

“Leave us,” Vader commands the storm troopers, his modulated voice bone chilling in the otherwise silent room. The stormtroopers turn and walk out of the chamber, their boots clicking loudly on the smooth tile floor.

As soon as you heard the heavy doors shut, the reality of your situation set in. You’re alone without a weapon or the use of the force with the most brutal Sith lord in the galaxy. You were helpless, and the only thing you can do is pray Vader will be merciful and kill you quickly.

“Your thoughts are loud, Jedi,” he says, sitting motionless on his throne.

You stare back into the black voids of his helmet’s eyes. You know the mask must be to hide some hideous deformity, but even the slightest bit of expression in the dark lord’s face would bring you some comfort.

You refuse to speak to him, but it clearly doesn’t matter since he can hear your thoughts, despite you trying to keep your walls up.

“I can feel your fear.”

Your brows furrow as you continue to look up at him from your position on the ground. You don’t mean to make your fear so obvious, but you can’t help it. You’re at the mercy of a monster who has killed many of your fellow Jedi, wiped out planets, and has disrupted peace in the entire galaxy.

“But it is not just fear, is it, Jedi?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you spit without thinking, immediately regretting your choice of words.

“Hatred,” he says plainly.

This time you stay silent. You don’t feel hatred. Are you angry with Darth Vader for ruining the lives of you and your friends? Yes. Are you angry at the empire for oppressing beings across the galaxy? Of course. Do you resent this war and wish you could live a regular life? Sure, everyone does. Do you wish the Jedi order wasn’t so restrictive? Occasionally. But none of what you feel is hate.

“You’re wrong,” you hiss.

“You don’t hate me?” Vader has the audacity to ask.

“Hate is not the Jedi way,” you respond.

Silently, Vader rises from his throne and descends the stairs. His black boots echo throughout the chamber as Vader approaches you. The feeling of dread grows even colder in your stomach, and you begin to shake as he nears.

Vader stops an arm’s length in front of you, and from your position, all you can see is the top of his heavy boots and the thick material of his pants. Outside of your vision, Vader reaches for you. He bends to bury his gloved hand in your hair and tugs, pulling you up from the ground. You yelp at the grip on your hair, and you scramble to get your knees underneath you to take some of the tension off of your scalp.

Now you kneel before Darth Vader, and he has just proved that it requires little effort to move you. You look up at him with newfound anger that stems from the humiliation of being manhandled. Your eyes are glassy with tears, not from emotion, but as an involuntary response from the pulling of your hair.

“Cowardice is not the Jedi way, either,” Vader says.

His hand is still tight in your hair, though there is much less pain. You shake your head, trying to get him to let go, but his hold is unwavering.

“I’m not a coward,” you hiss. You wish you could access the force; you would throw this sick bastard across the room and- no, that’s not the Jedi way.

“Yet you tremble before me.”

You narrow your eyes as you look at him, feeling intimidated by the lack of emotion but you keep your gaze steady.

“I don’t hate, Vader.”

The dark helmet tilts to the side, just barely. That is the only sign of emotion, of life, that he has given this whole time.

“No?” he asks. “Even after everyone you hold dear perished at the hands of my army? Can your heart remain pure after suffering so much loss? Pain leads to anger, and anger leads to hate. I feel more pain in you than any of your fellow soldiers combined.”

You wish desperately that you were able to grasp the force to block Vader from your mind, but without it, every aspect of your mind is exposed to him.

“There’s no part of you that wants revenge? To kill me after you heard the symphony of your fellow younglings screaming? To destroy the empire for all of the pain it’s brought you?”

Fresh tears now stream down your face, this time from the painful memories Vader is forcing you to relive. You want to break free from these cuffs, you want to fight back, but you’re trapped. You do the only thing you can think to do to show your defiance, even as you weep on your knees. You tilt your chin up as much as you can and spit, landing it on the cheek of Vader’s helmet.

It feels as if time froze as soon as the wad of spit made contact. Vader stood completely still, not even breathing for unnaturally long, as you were forced to stay just as still as he was.

Slowly, Vader reaches up with his free hand and grasps the underside of his helmet. Your spit has run down the front of the mask and his gloves glisten as he pushes up the helmet. Vader slowly reveals the face underneath, and to your surprise, he is not hideous. In fact, he’s handsome.

Behind the emotionless helmet, Vader is a young man with chestnut hair, smooth skin save for a scar over his eye, and piercing bronze eyes. Your breath catches in your throat as you look at the Sith lord, suddenly feeling conflicting emotions as the face of evil was just humanized.

Vader drops his helmet on the tile floor next to you, and the loud bang echoes through the chamber, making you flinch.

“You’re surprised,” Vader says, now in a non-altered voice. His voice is smooth, completely unlike his deep, robotic voice you knew.

“This is not what I was expecting,” you say, voice sounding weak to your own ears.

“My appearance?” he asks.

“Your mercy.”

Vader raises his eyebrows. “You will not get mercy from me.”

“You haven’t killed me yet,” you respond.

You’re not sure why you’re speaking to him this way. He is the same man who killed millions, some of those your brothers in arms, and many more innocent lives. He is the same ruthless, evil monster as he was with the mask on, yet he seems much less intimidating like this.

“I have no use for a Jedi corpse. I want you alive.”

Your brows furrow as you look up at him, tears slowly stopping.

“Alive for what?”

“You have great power, little one,” he says, gaze intense.

Vader releases his grip on your hair, but remains close. The features of his suit feel out of place without the helmet. The control panel lead you to believe he was more machine than man, but from what you can see, Vader is just as human as you are.

“I was like you once,” Vader says, speaking again after your lack of response.

“We are nothing alike,” you bite.

“Ambitious, emotional, powerful… All things the Jedi order attempts to train out of their young, but a certain few, like you and I, knew better. You didn’t let them crush your spirit and turn you into a docile, supposed peacekeeper like the rest of them.”

Vader started off calm, but as he continued denouncing the Jedi teachings, his tone became more bitter and resentful.

“I have no complaints about my teachings,” you say, lifting your chin in defiance.

“You never had thoughts that your master told you were inappropriate? Things that felt perfectly natural, but somehow were wrong?” This time, Vader’s question is not rhetorical.

“I mean… I guess.”

“And weren’t you just a little bit angry that your feelings were dismissed so quickly without even an ounce of explanation as to why?”

“Because emotions and attachments aren’t the Jedi way.”

“But you were a child. No child can put aside their emotions for some ‘greater good’ that they have never seen nor could begin to understand.”

Vader pauses his sermon to crouch down, now meeting you at your eye level. His gaze is heavy, and you don’t want to show weakness by looking away, but you find it difficult to hold his eyes.

“I lived a life of pain, just as you have. I was born a slave, and only freed to be taken in by the Jedi, where my bonds were even tighter. I led thousands of men to their death in an unwinnable war, my mother was murdered by savage creatures, and my only love died as a result of the Jedi’s foolish restrictions.”

You swallow the thick lump in your throat so you can attempt to speak. Vader being vulnerable with you like this makes you feel uncomfortable, like you need to jump up and run as far as possible. He is a monster, not a grieving man. He’s not like you.

“You’re tired of hurting, aren’t you?” he asks.

You don’t want to respond, you don’t want to give him what he desires, but you can’t help yourself. The pain is suffocating and you desperately wish to escape it.

“Yes,” you confess breathily.

Vader looks at you for a moment. He doesn’t smile thankfully, because you would find that even more unnerving. No, he looks at you with pity like you’re a hurt animal.

“I can make your pain go away.” You perk up at that. You know he must be lying, the Sith are known for their silver tongues that tell you exactly what you want to hear, but the idea of a life free from suffering intrigues you. “I can help you access great power that will rid you of anguish.”

Vader shifts so he is kneeling in front of you, mirroring your position save for the cuffs holding your hands. He places his gloved hands on your shoulders and holds them tightly. You lean into the strong, warm touch, feeling conflicted as you regard his offer.

“I was like you once, little one. Broken, scared, forced into weakness by the Jedi. But then I was shown a new path; one of great power and purpose. Now I hurt no more.”

This all feels too good to be true. You want to believe what Vader says is true, that he can take away your pain and make you as powerful as you have always wanted to be, but your master’s voice rings in the back of your mind. Don’t give into temptation. The Sith lie, manipulate, and go to great lengths to corrupt the light. Evil is stronger than good, but great power leads you down a path of destruction.

“I will not hear these lies any longer, Vader,” you say, finally regaining your compassion.

Vader blinks for a moment, seemingly surprised at your change of tone.

“I tell nothing but the truth. I can save you.”

“I am loyal to the Jedi order.”

Vader sighs, jaw tensing, and he rises to his feet, again looming over you.

“I was being merciful as you requested, and gave you some semblance of a choice, but you will join me.”

“I would rather die than join you!” you yell.

Vader’s chin tilts just slightly. He uses the force to bring the remote that controls your cuffs to him, then unlocks them. You look up at him, confused and hesitant when your bonds fall away.

“You would die for your precious order?” he asks.

“Without question,” you say firmly as you rise to your feet, kicking the cuffs aside.

Vader reaches down to his hip and pushes his cape back, revealing two lightsabers. One is yours, and the other must be his. He tosses your lightsaber to you and you catch it with ease, immediately activating the blade and holding it between you and the Sith lord.

He activates his own lightsaber, the red blade illuminating his face and mixing with the blue of yours, casting a mix of purple light through the dark room.

“What are you waiting for, Jedi?” he asks.

Without further hesitations, you run towards Vader and swing your lightsaber at his torso, but he blocks it with ease. You take a few more swings, each from different angles, but they all are deflected. Surprisingly, Vader does not take any offensive maneuvers and only blocks each of your attacks. You move forward and slowly back Vader against the wall, almost cornering him, and you find yourself growing increasingly frustrated with his lack of engagement in the battle.

“Fight back, you coward!” you yell as you being your saber slashing down.

“Is that truly what you want?” Vader asks, pushing against your lightsaber with his.

“Unlike you,” you grunt, “I don’t take pleasure in an opponent who does not attempt to fight.”

There is a ghost of a smirk on Vader’s lips as he pushes you off of him with his saber. You stumble back, but quickly regain your footing and advance on him again. This time, however, Vader attacks. A whirlwind of red light swings around your head, and you instinctively block his attempted jab.

Vader’s fighting style is fast, acrobatic, and unlike anything you’ve faced in training or battle. His slices come quick, and combined with the distractions of his jumps and spins, it makes it difficult to battle him.

You swing your saber at his neck, but he ducks his head just in time to dodge getting his head cut off. While Vader is low to the ground, he sweeps his saber at your ankles, but you managed to jump, kicking him in the shoulder in the process.

He stumbles back and fails to catch himself. He sits on the ground, legs sprawled in front of him as you run towards him. He is surprisingly skilled at fight from the ground, but he doesn’t expect a kick to the hand instead of a stab with your saber. His lightsaber falls from his hand and clatters across the floor. Before he could get to it, you pick it up.

Now with two sabers and a defenseless Vader, you have the upper hand. He moves to stand, but you trap his head between crossed blades while he’s on his knees. You pause, staring down at the Sith lord as your chest heaves with exertion. Vader does not look afraid, nor angry. He looks pleased.

“You want to kill me,” Vader speaks, showing no signs of the battle that just occurred.

“I sure would like to,” you say between panting breaths.

“Then do it.” You’re shocked. You have the most feared man in the galaxy on his knees in a compromising position, and he’s telling you to kill him. “Kill me, Jedi. I feel your anger, your pain, your hatred. Succumb to your desires; kill me and free the galaxy.”

Your hand twitch. You want to kill Vader, but you cannot bring yourself to do it. You’re frozen in place, paralyzed by the morality that was ingrained into you as a child.

“Kill me!” Vader shouts.

You don’t notice that you’re crying until hot tears drip down amd absorb into the front of your robe. You hate that you’re showing such weakness in front of Vader, but you can’t help yourself.

“You’re weak,” Vader says as he rises to his feet, unfazed by the weapons at his neck. “You’re a coward. A pathetic excuse for a soldier.”

Vader wrenches both sabers out of your hands and throws yours across the room. He stalks towards you, lightsaber at his side while he insults you. You walk backwards as he comes closer, not wanting to let him near to kill you.

“You didn’t even have the strength to do what you knew needed to be done. You could have saved the galaxy, but you were too scared to take a life,” Vader seeths.

You take another step back, but instead of your foot landing on the tile, you trip on Vader’s discarded helmet, rolling your ankle and falling to the floor. You cry out in pain and attempt to get up, but you cannot find the strength as Vader steps closer.

His boot kicks his helmet out of the way with a loud bang what makes you whimper in fear. Your palms scrabble against the floor to slide back, making you look even more pathetic than you surely already do. To your horror, directly behind you is the chamber wall. You have no where to go, no weapon, barely any strength, and Vader has the high ground.

“Look at you, helpless little Jedi,” Vader muses. “Why don’t you call on the force to help you? Or is it not strong enough to beat me?”

Your blood feels ice cold in your veins as Vader stares down at you. You know you should attempt to fight, to die honorary, but you don’t want to suffer.

“Just kill me,” you choke out.

“I told you, I have no use for your corpse. You will join me.”

“I won’t,” you say, voice weak.

With an aggravated grunt, Vader throws his lightsaber across the room, then grips the collar of your robe with both hands to haul you to your feet. He presses your back against the wall and you flinch, preparing for him to hit you. Instead, he places both palms on either side of your head. For a moment, nothing happens. You are just about to aks him what he’s doing to you when you’re hit with a flood of euphoria.

A hot, almost burning sensation fills your body and warms the ice in your veins. Your limbs go limp and you would have collapsed to the floor if Vader wasn’t holding you. A small moan leaves your lips as you feel a sense of newfound strength in your body, something that you have never felt in all of your years training with the force.

“What-” you trail off, finding it difficult to construct a sentence in this state.

“Do you feel the power, little one?” Vader says, voice low since he is so close.

“Yes,” you gasp.

“All of this could be yours. You could feel this all the time. You will never hurt again.”

You want it. This pleasure, this fullness, this contentment you haven’t felt since you were young. In this moment, all reason escapes you as you bask in the warms that Vader is providing.

Then, in a flash, everything is cold once again. Vader lets go of you and you side down the wall in a crumple. You whimper as you try to move, but you’re weak and tired once again.

“Please,” you croak, looking up at Vader.

“That’s the power of the dark side. Too bad you’re too devoted to your code to reach your full potential,” Vader says before turning on his toe, cape swishing through the air as he walks away from you.

You can’t let him leave. You had a taste of what you’ve always wanted and you can’t deny it any longer. You want to be powerful, free, and maybe for the first time in a long time, happy.

“Wait!” Vader pauses mid-step but does not turn to face you. “I… I want it.”

Anxiety builds inside you as Vader remains motionless. Just as you’re about to plead with him, he turns around.

“What do you want?”

“Power,” you whisper like it’s a shameful secret.

Vader begins to walk towards you, the same stalking action, yet you feel less scared this time.

“Will you abandon your affilation with the Jedi?” he asks.

You hesitate to answer. You know it’s wrong, you took a vow, but you had spent your life doing selfless acts. Maybe it’s time to be selfish for once.

“Yes.”

Vader grins. It’s not a kind smile, far from it. It’s sharp, predatory, and makes your skin crawl.

“You shall be my apprentice,” Vader says, extending a hand to help you from the ground. When you reach your feet, Vader holds you close by your waist. It’s almost intimate, the distance between your faces, but you feel as if it’s more of a display of dominance than anything. “I will train you to use the dark side, and I’ll help you break all of those habits the Jedi ingrained in you.”

“I want to feel it again,” you confess.

“And you will, little one, in due time. I can only give you so much; it is your duty to harness it yourself.”

You sigh and nod your head. “I understand… master.”

It feels foreign in your mouth, to call someone else, a Sith lord, master, but the word makes Vader grin again.

“The dark side will give you great strength. It may be frightening at first, to unlock your full potential, but I guarantee you will become just as powerful as I. Together, we will rule the galaxy.”

Your heart skips at that. Thinking that the entire galaxy would be yours to do what you please with, the power that would come with that. It was every shameful dream come true.

“I vow to follow you, Master Vader. I want to learn to be as powerful as you.”

Vader’s grip on your waist tightens and he tugs you just a bit closer. Your chest is pressed against the hard, cold metal of the panel on his chest, and you feel so small in his embrace.

“Why don’t we start with our first lesson,” Vader suggests.

“What is it?” you ask curiously, eager to get even a taste of that heat once again.

“I want you to learn to indulge in all of those desires you have spent your life denying,” he says, voice low and gravely. You furrow your brows, confused. “I sense your lust, little one. I do not think it shameful; Sith must access their passion.”

You nod in understanding, but remain still, uncertain what to do.

“Allow me to show you,” Vader says.

His hands press your body against his and he leans his head down. His eyes are closed and his lips move to cover yours. You whimper in surprise, but you allow yourself to stay pliant. He kisses you, gently at first, but it quickly turns heated. His tongue presses against the seam of your lips and you part them to allow him access. He devours you, kissing you like he’s claiming you as his own and in a way, he is.

You two finally part after what feels like an eternity. You’re breathless, but Vader seams unfazed, except for his eyes, which are more black than amber now. His lips shine with spit, and you’re certain yours look the same.

“I sense great potential in you, my apprentice,” Vader says with a sharp grin.

In the back of your mind, you’re ashamed that you succumbed to the dark, allowed yourself to be corrupted. But at the same time, Lord Vader can show you things you weren’t even permitted to dream of with the Jedi.

“Thank you, Master. I will not disappoint you.”

And with that, your fate was sealed. A former Jedi turned apprentice to the face of evil in the galaxy.

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