Summary- You are kidnapped and sold, being a desirable race. But lucky for you, a bounty hunter comes for your new owner and agrees to give you a lift off planet.
But before you can part ways, the two of you are unexpectedly intertwined. Now it seems that you quickly become something the hardened bounty hunter holds dear…
Word Count: 65,317
1- Death is Probably Better
2- A Good Man
3- Wedding Without Bells
4- Permission
5- Stray Cat Strut
6- Pick His Brain
7- My Girl
8- The Right Guy
9- Projectiles
10- Kuna
11- Goodnight, Moon
12- Mudhorn
13- Restless
14- Blue
15- First Impressions
16- The Yellow Wallpaper
17- Scrap
18- Hanging On
19- Enough
20- Nothing Better
Felt like Din had to be mentioned at least a little last chapter. Im not sure the pacing of the second chapter yet but maybeee we will see him at the end again?
Bit of a slower burn? But idk if this will be as long as HD.
Y'all I am almost 3k into the first chapter. Im freeballing, but dark!din is gonna happen whether I have a plan or not.
Basically this is gonna be like Held Dear, but a different storyline and Din is gonna be mean and lowkey kinda bad. Lothi/Reader is going to go through it BAD.
Also we are gonna have some returning characters, so y'all can catch the references.
Idk if I'll post it on Tumblr, im not really a fan of posting on other platforms. Idk I just like ao3. I did post Held Dear on wattpad which was interesting.
I'll probably get this new fic's first chapter posted by the end of tomorrow at the latest. YAAYY!
Y'all I am almost 3k into the first chapter. Im freeballing, but dark!din is gonna happen whether I have a plan or not.
Basically this is gonna be like Held Dear, but a different storyline and Din is gonna be mean and lowkey kinda bad. Lothi/Reader is going to go through it BAD.
Also we are gonna have some returning characters, so y'all can catch the references.
Idk if I'll post it on Tumblr, im not really a fan of posting on other platforms. Idk I just like ao3. I did post Held Dear on wattpad which was interesting.
I'll probably get this new fic's first chapter posted by the end of tomorrow at the latest. YAAYY!
A/N- Final Chapter.
Here's some art I made to celebrate.
ao3 link here.
Word Count - 3.8k
“Hold it steady. Your hands are shaking too much.”
“Im trying!”
“Are you nervous?”
“It's heavy and you're just standing there looking at me!”
The soft wind blows, a fitting contrast to the heavy blaster in your hands. Din leans on the tree next to you, arms crossed leisurely. It's been about 20 minutes since you started shooting lessons, the conversation brought on by your assault on the scrap rats and bounty eyes on Bracca with your mini blaster-like gadget.
You are starting to think you should have called Cara for this, because while you don’t know her very well, you doubt she would have taken 15 minutes alone to explain in excruciatingly lackluster detail the mechanics of the blaster you were about to shoot. Then he took another 10 to maneuver you into the right posture and grip. Admittedly you liked that part, at first anyway. The blaster is heavy and you keep falling out of line.
You would have thought that Din’s patience, a slippery slope already, would have faded away by now. You have been shooting at a target attached to a tree for 5 minutes now and haven’t landed a single shot. But he is relatively unphased by your failings.
“Come on, you moved again.” Din says cooly, coming up behind you and pushing your feet back with his own. He takes your hands between his, stilling them and helping with aim. His modulated voice hums in your ear. “Now breathe…and shoot.”
You obediently shoot. It lands. Of course it does. Din basically did all the work. You stifle a grin anyway.
“See?” He lets you go. “Not too hard, is it? You just need to keep your hands steady, feet where they are supposed to be.”
You huff, turning the safety back on and handing him back the blaster. “Whats the point of the posture anyway? If someone is shooting at me, I'm not gonna be thinking about the way I'm standing!”
“For you it matters as a beginner. For me it's less of a concern.” He says, nonchalantly handing back the gun. “Again.”
“I don’t wanna do this anymore.” You frown. You have been hungry since you started. “Don’t you have some criminal to catch?”
“No. But I am sure Karga can find a puck for me if you are that interested in me going back to work.” He says, arms crossing across his broad chest. “I thought you’d want to spend time with me though.”
Well that makes you feel like shit. Your ears droop. Din pinches your cheek. “Well I'm hungry… and we aren’t getting anywhere.”
“One more shot. I’ll line you up, then let go.” Din says gently, pausing briefly with a faint cock of his helmet. “And then we can cook you one more fish. Then Nevarro.”
“Okay.” You sheepishly turn the tree again, fixing the safety and looking to Din for support. He takes your hands in his, going back behind you. He lines you up, slides your feet into position. He aims for you, then lets go. You shoot immediately, before his hands can fully go to his sides. Before you tremble.
The shot hits the tree.
You did it! You scream in surprise and excitement, dropping the blaster and turning to Din for praise. You scream and jump again as the blaster falls and goes off on its own, leaping into Din’s arms. He shakes you with a little click of his tongue. His boot firmly plants on the blaster before it can shoot again.
“You stupid little furball…” He grumbles, forcefully prying you off him. He picks up the gun, turning the safety on directly in front of your face before poking your forehead. “Safety. First damn thing I told you. I know you're excited…”
You get your last freshly caught fish from the river, cooked over a flame and hand fed by Din like little royalty. You eat happily, sat on his knee.
“You know…” He starts, retracting his ungloved hand after you get a little too excited. “The lady on Coruscaunt said you wouldn’t bite me.”
“I don’t bite you…” You mutter through a mouthful of warm, flaky fish.
“You do bite me. My fingers would be down your throat right now if I let you.” He offers another piece of fish, which you take. He doesn’t pull away, proving his point as his fingers end up between your teeth.
You slowly pull off, taking the meat with you with a cheeky grin. “Yeah but you’d like that, wouldn’t you~?”
He scoffs, swatting your ear gently. “Eat.”
You sit in the copilot’s seat as Din takes off and the Razor Crest shoots off through hyperspace in a marvelous tunnel of blue and white, stars sailing by. It’s funny to think of the terror that consumed you from the movement of the ship. But here you are, stronger and braver than you ever could have imagined.
You traded pristine, peaceful Naboo waterfalls for the cascade of stars and infinity of the Galaxy. And yet you are filled with insurmountable, ineffable joy.
Nevarro is still hot, grey and dusty. Din gives you some money for milk and sends you on your usual way so he can do his business with Karga.
You hop up on a barstool and get your milk. It feels like a prize for your bravery and newfound bounty hunting experience. Like you belong in this Cantina with all these other ruffians and hunters. Obviously you don’t. But it's nice to pretend.
The milk comes with a small surge of looming triumph and you decide to take a walk. Din is taking forever, and he has a tracker on you anyway. So you walk out onto the Nevarro street, beginning to march forward. Vendors and traders line the streets, you see two shady men duck into an alley. The lid to your coveted beverage is being stubborn, and you let your legs keep going as you focus on the terrible lid.
You get a little turned around once you come off the main road. It occurs to you now that you will probably get an earful for this. Nevarro is not exactly safe. Frankly, you don’t know how you got to where you are. You keep going, examining the bulbous stony architecture, feeling small in the alleyway. A single beam of light streams diagonally, beckoning you onwards. It feels awfully gloomy.
Soon a crossroad approaches. Before you can deliberate, two Mandalorians pass from one crossroad into the other, making no notice of you. Obviously, you have your path. Perhaps they know your Din.
The path winds, eventually dipping into steep stairs until it eventually opens up. It looks like a sewer, populated by Mandalorians coming and going, sat leisurely playing cards, two children run by. You awkwardly shuffle, helmeted heads snapping towards you as you move forward. Shit. You just walked in on something, huh?
A blue mandalorian stalks forwards, big and scary, but not in the way you appreciate. Not like your mando.
“You shouldn’t be here.” He says gruffly. His hand rests on his blaster, but he keeps it holstered. “How the hell did you find this place?”
“I uh. Sorry.” You blurt, kind of freezing up.
Another runs over, he's painted orange, and more alarmed than the first. More aggressive too, as he points his blaster at you without even saying hello. “Who the fuck? How did you get in here?!”
“Woah there. You really think she's a threat?” The blue one says, easing his firing arm.
“Might be a rat…” The orange one grits. “You never know. Unassuming and all. Either way we are found out.”
You really don’t want to get shot, or worry this group of Mandalorians that are clearly in hiding about their safety. So you do the only reasonable thing you can think of. “W-well i’m very sorry to intrude. I honestly don’t know how I got here. I– I promise I'm no threat. Here, look, I'm a friend…!?”
You pull the beskar mudhorn from under your clothes, brandishing it up to the two men’s visors. The orange one looks at it, then up at your face and back. He rips it from your neck. “How did you get that!?”
“Hey, give that back! It was a gift!”
He grabs you by the wrist and drags you down the tunnel. You squeal, attempting to tear away as you are brought to some kind of forge. The blue mandalorian keeps a firm, but not inescapable hand on your shoulder by the instruction of the orange one.
“Whose is this?” The orange one holds your necklace up to a woman in a gold helmet, who looks intently your way. “What clan?”
“You are not a part of the watch. Lothi…” She stalks over to you, voice freakishly level. “How did you come across this beskar, this hiding place?”
“Um. Well I don’t know how I got here and that was a gift!”
“Mudhorn, yeah? Whose tribe is that?” The orange one asks insistently, probably sweaty and eyes bulging under the helmet if you had to guess. “Who did you make this for?”
“Din Djarin!” You answer, despite the question not being for you. You hope it helps. “Big guy, shiny…silver mando, yeah? Bounty hunter?”
The orange and blue look at the Armorer. She speaks after a long pause. “Din Djarin is the sole member of his clan. Clan Mudhorn. I made that pendant for him.”
“See! I'm a friend! B-but me stumbling on this place w-was unrelated, okay?” You squirm out of the blue one's grip. “I will just be going then, if you’ll give me the pendant back…please..?”
“You aren’t a mandalorian.” The orange one states.
“I can be a part of Clan Mudhorn regardless, right? And it is mine!” You open your hand to him before a shadow comes from behind you, warm hand going to your shoulder. It’s Din.
He saunters over to orange, matching mudhorn displayed on his pauldron with terrifying audacity before snatching the necklace from his hands. He doesn’t say anything as he stuffs it in his pocket, takes your milk from your off hand and tosses you over his shoulder one handed. He gives a nod to the Armorer as he backs up before finally saying anything. “Sorry for her intrusion.”
You whimper a little in your composition, but know better to complain by now. You quiet down on the walk back to the Razor Crest, focusing on the struggle between the lid of your milk once again.
A shot rings out among the Nevarro streets, cold and hollow among the usual chatter. Din pauses among everyone else. Nothing.
Then someone falls with another shot, then one red beam bounces off Din’s helmet. Right by your face. He immediately ducks behind a cart, dropping you as the scramble begins. A formation of battered stormtroopers come blasting down the street. You look wide eyed up at Din.
“Stay.” He instructs, peering up at the action with his blaster.
“What’s happening?” You chirp, following his gaze until Din pushes your head back down. You caught a glimpse however, of the stormtroopers pillaging the town.
Din doesn’t answer your question, running to the aid of an old man being held at gunpoint over his fruitstand. He told you to stay, but you cannot pass up the opportunity to see your seemingly cold hearted man in heroic action. The stormtroopers break off, shoving all food and credits they can find into satchels. Naturally Din isn’t the only bystander fighting back, Nevarro is full of people with blasters at their sides.
The old man is shot, his produce swiped into a satchel before Din grabs the offender by the shoulder and shoots him at the temple. The flimsy material of his white helmet visibly smokes as the stormtrooper drops. Din lands a couple more on another before retreating as more come.
Another shadow, more unfriendly than Din’s in the Mandalorian’s hideout, is cast down on you from behind the cart. You look up just as one of the stormtroopers grabs you and takes your milk. You squeal, getting patted down. The leftover credits in your pocket clatter to the dusty ground and are swiftly scooped up.
Din attempts to come to your aid, but you hear him grunt as he is swarmed and dropped to his knees. His pouch of credits is probably swiped too.
You try and bite the stormtrooper holding you, but his armor is too strong for that. You think he’s going to shoot you, feeling his heartbeat spike as his freehand moves to his blaster. Glimpsing Din, he had three blasters to his head and neck, his own weapon chucked off to the side between you and him. You hear his whistling birds go off.
The two mandalorians from earlier, joined by three more come from the sky and alleys. Most people have scattered or been shot by now, leaving just the warriors and scavengers. Your captor loosens as the two mando’s in the sky blaze by, jet packs leaving a stream of smoke in their wake. You run for Din’s blaster, not even thinking before attempting to shoot the stormtrooper drawing towards you. Miraculously, you land one on his thigh and he crumples right in front of you.
Din runs over, fighting with the knife from his boot.
“Wait— hey!” The stormtrooper begs. Din plunges his knife deep in the poor man’s neck as he sputters, then slowly turns it. Blood sprays and gushes as he withdraws. You feel it, heavy and warm as it hits your face.
“Nice shot.” Din compliments, panting softly.
The other mandalorians take care of the remaining stormtroopers that were brave enough to try their luck. Some ran off with their earnings. Din loots the appropriate bodies for his belongings, swapping his blaster in your hands to your blue milk. Dirt now coats the bottle, stuck to the condensation.
“Let’s go.” He says simply.
You follow, but can’t help but stare at the bloodbath and robbery aftermath. A pit of sadness and anger bubbles in your stomach. The Empire still rears its ugly head, even now. You don’t understand it.
“But—“ You pause at the mouth of the hull. You wish there was something you could do. Help clean up, maybe?
“We should get out of here.” Din murmurs, voice low. He looks down at you, gloved hand coming to wipe the blood from your face, your mouth. Then he takes your milk and opens it easily for you. “Come on. It’s not safe.”
“Didn’t have enough adventure? Hope you have now...” Din asks, watching you sit down in the copilot’s seat as he gets to the cockpit. You elect not to say anything and just finish your drink as he takes off.
He gets up once you're finally in hyperspace. His hands gently slip around your neck as you look up at him wide eyed. The cold beskar falls against your skin as your necklace is returned to you.
“Why were they there? How are there still so many stormtroopers like that?” You ask, still reeling.
“Military groups always have stragglers still fighting for the cause. There’s encampments still fighting all over the galaxy…” Din climbs down to the hull, still talking. You follow. “And those groups run out of food and supplies eventually. The closest town gets to feed them. There’s a base still standing about 20 miles from the port. That’s where they came from if I had to guess.”
You nod, sipping your milk. Din grabs a cloth from storage and begins to clean the blood from his armor, taking off his helmet. You feel glad that he can do so casually now in front of you.
“Where are we going now?”
“Taking you home. Is that okay?”
Warm sun, tall, vibrant grass and blossoming flowers is a welcome change from the past couple plants you have had the displeasure of experiencing. Tatooine is too hot. Bracca is too gross. Nevarro too dull. Naboo is just right. And you are 95% less likely to be shot at and robbed by imperial holdouts.
You missed your bed most. You knock out for a full day once settled in. Din stays with you awhile.
His warm, large hands rub your back as you lie on top of him in the bed. His voice, groggy with sleep, mutters in your ear. “You gonna be alright here for a few days? I have just one bounty.”
“Mhm…” You don’t really mind, too busy trying to climb inside his skin as his body heat overwhelms your senses. He seems to find that amusing. “As long as you come back…Nya…~”
“Always.” You feel his grin against you. “Silly kitty.”
Old Roy still keeps up the bakery, Grandma’s recipes still hitting the spot. Din is away for a few days and you get into a rhythm, working with Roy.
“Bye bye, I hope you like them!” You beam, waving as a customer leaves with a dozen crinkle cookies. Roy pokes his head out from the back before pattering over.
“Hey honey... Chatty today, huh?” He smiles down at you.
“Yeah. Heh. I don’t get much when we are traveling.”
“How would you like to come upstairs tonight and have dinner with me? I could use some chatter too.”
“Sure!”
You have a very nice after work nap, getting up just before your dinner plans. Roy lives in the apartment just upstairs.
You let yourself in, as you always do with most of your elderly neighbors, Roy’s place filled with the distinct old man smell. He has lots of fruit bowls and antique metallic figurines on most every surface.
Roy himself is in the kitchen, plating up dinner. He perks up when he sees you. “Oh…oh, hello. Go sit! Sit.”
You sit and he soon comes over with a plate of salad and a bantha steak. It smells lovely. You think taking over the bakery made him more inclined to experiment with cooking proper meals, as he was never much of a cook in prior memories of him.
“This looks lovely Roy.” You lick your lips absentmindedly. The old man beams with pride as you both begin to eat.
“So. How’s that…the mandalorian?” He asks, attempting to be casual as he picks his food.
“He’s good. He taught me how to use a blaster the other day. I’m not very good…” Roy looks like he might choke on his salad. You decide to not tell him how you shot a stormtrooper in the leg.
“Well I’m glad he brings you back. It’s not good for you to sit on a ship your whole life.”
“I guess not. But he gives me the gift of travel, even if I don’t do much where we go. I’ve seen so many places and people.” You tell him, hoping to tick Din’s approval up a few notches.
You aren’t sure that you have truly appreciated this gift. You never thought yourself much of a traveler. You like being at home, whether it be your fort or your apartment downstairs. If anything, you feel like a part of the ship while Din travels, you are a depot for the weary traveler, in his corner.
But outside Din’s little world is the hugeness of the galaxy and he gives you the opportunity to travel and be his little respite. His home.
Ultimately that’s what you set out to do. Comfort him, be the sweet thing in his harsh life to keep him sane and grounded. You think you have succeeded. At the very least you have become something he holds dear, and you have grown stronger as a result.
“Well you look pretty good. More uh…confident?” Roy comments.
“I have had lots of adventures to work on my confidence.” You say. “Be brave. Like Grandma.”
Roy smiles gently. “I’m sure she would be proud of you, kiddo.”
You finish your dinner with Roy and go home. Your bedroom, cute and slightly cluttered with all your random things, makes you feel sleepy and comforted. But as you lie down you think of Din.
He’s probably off doing badass bounty hunter stuff. Covered in blood, not saying a word because he doesn’t have to, dragging some poor soul into carbonite prison. Maybe that’s a silly thought. But surely not far off.
While you have carved yourself into his heart and ship, he has nowhere here. Not really. So you get back up.
You don’t know where to declutter for him, so you just start swiping half your toys into a drawer, freeing up a couple of surfaces. You look in your closet, pulling your clothes down and sorting through them. You get distracted by all the different textures and fabrics, not to mention a couple of items you forgot about. Living on the Crest has you repeating a lot.
You sit in the dark, sifting through clothes. You don’t remember falling asleep, just two strong hands scooping you up from your closet and setting you into bed.
Watching with half lidded eyes, he peels off leather and beskar, smelling of smoke and sweat. He leaves you for the fresher and you fall back asleep.
Upon the morning light you slowly wake, curled up against the warmth of your man. His hand rests between your fluffy ears. Everything is still. Everything is perfect.
“Hey kitty.” He mutters. You mewl back, not quite at terms with the idea of waking. “I missed you…”
“Miss you too..”
Din tilts your head up, gently tugging at your hair. He kisses you slowly, achingly slow. You feel his beard scratch at you as he lets go, gazing at you with loving brown eyes.
“I’m really glad you’re with me, you know…” He says slowly. “I don’t make that clear enough. How much I love you. Glad you were so persistent and cute, trying to get me to keep you…”
“Well you don’t have to say it…” You say. “I know.”
“I want to say it. And I want to show it. You’ve been so good, so brave.” Din croons, scratching behind your ear. “I want to take you somewhere. Anywhere in the galaxy you want to go. No bounties or shootouts.”
Now Din has really opened the galaxy to you. No bounty to guide you there. Just you and him. Picnics, cuddles, pats for as long as you want.
You started out in a cage, sold off to a man and lost to those you loved. If you were to meet your buyer Komsun again, you would be inclined to thank him. If you were to meet the peculiar people and questionable morals of B-967, you might feel a little bad for the destruction caused by your getaway.
Because for all your hardships and troubles, you were rewarded with a man good to you. You get to see the galaxy, have a home and a lover, eat good and bad food, learn and grow.
You may be little, pathetic to some. But the experiences and attention Din has given you so much. There is nothing better than this, you think.
A/N- I know I posted yesterday but I locked in guys. once again posting at 3am. This chapter is a little shorter anyway.
But there's smut for you freaks, and after waiting since FEBRUARY for ch 18, I know no one is complaining.
Enjoy, let me know what you think and thank you for reading! Next chapter is the finale aaaah!
ao3 link here.
Word Count - 2.1k
Down among the junk of Bracca, things turn into other things to be sold for parts and sold to whoever deems themselves in charge of the vast galaxy.
All the lovely people work together on a new day; Jedd, Sols, Mara, the big group of men who play their music aloud, all packed in and hustling like ants through tunnels and forlorn engines. Its a shame you did not get to say goodbye, even if they were just a brief intermission. The Boss is probably yelling about the rats you did not take care of and the generator being broken. Maybe he even yells over the sudden disappearance of Sheeb Akao who now lies frozen like a sardine in a can, if you thought sardines were ugly and evil.
In another place entirely, high above Bracca drifting among the stars, the Razor Crest valiantly chugged along. Din lets you take a little catnap on him while he sits in the pilot's seat. Eventually though, he gives you a little poke. “Hey you..”
You grumble groggily, finally able to relax after such strenuous days in the arms of your husband. He sits you up and you catch a glimpse of his helmet sitting in the copilot’s seat, reflecting the stars. You immediately look up, his brown eyes looking back. His face crashes onto yours in a deep, long kiss.
You accept it, mewling as you go to touch his face, feeling the scratch of his light beard against your little fingers. He pulls away from the kiss and instead pulls you into a hug.
Grinning like an idiot, you rub your face on his shoulder. He pulls back and looks at you, over you and your bright poncho. His ungloved fingers graze down your neck and over the collar he gave you, then down to pull the beskar mudhorn free from under your clothes. “Im so proud of you…”
“I told you I could do it.”
“I know. And I know you are tired. But you stink and my legs have started to cramp, and while I love you, I really need you to move.” You giggle, allowing him to set you down. He tugs at the poncho. “Besides, orange is not your color.”
“Okay mister fashionista!” You scoff, heading down to the hull. You suddenly become very aware of the grease and grime stuck to every part of you, namely your hands and knees from all the crawling. You find a shirt and head for the fresher.
The hot water and clean feeling the soap leaves behind is euphoric, the dark and gritty mess washing away. Despite your teasing, Din was right about the poncho. You won’t miss that uniform, happy to trade it for your own clothes or something of Din’s. Seeing his face after your little adventure made you very happy.
But it wasn’t a little adventure, was it? Maybe two, almost three days is a short jaunt for Din. And you know it is. This job could have easily taken him a week or more, his frame and bulk would probably have been a setback with all the nooks and crannies. But to you it was more.
You set out to prove to Din that despite your many weaknesses, you can be useful. That you aren’t pathetic. You think you did. You solved his problems and went out of your comfort zone. The fatigue you feel now feels so rewarding. But you are happy everything worked itself out and that it's over. You aren’t meant to withstand these kinds of adventures.
Drying off and dressing, you step out of the fresher, where Din waits for you on the floor. He’s made up your bed, completely armorless. You sit down, his big, warm hands slipping around your waist. Immediately you melt into him. You are right where you belong, sleepy and pliable in the arms of a man who loves you so much. His fingers thread into your wet hair, scratching slowly as he lays you back on the makeshift bed. You watch him over you, grinning at your little meows.
“Did you get it out of your system? Had your adventure?” He coos, slowly kissing your jaw and neck. His hand steadies your head, still scritching as his other one pries your legs open so he can settle between them. “You were so brave…so helpful…my pretty little assistant.”
You practically melt into a pile on the floor, feeling a hot puddle forming between your legs. Din’s hand runs up your thigh to your knee, softly exhaling as he appreciates the sight of you getting all whiny. “Nya…I missed you, I– I don’t like being by myself.”
“I know, Cyar’ika…” He murmurs, kissing you.
“I got so sleepy n’I couldn’t keep m’eyes open…~” You whine.
“I know, I know…You never have to do that again, I never want you scared and sleepy that long again. You don’t deserve that kind of work…” His mouth works its way down your neck. “You deserve to be comfortable, to get proper dinners with all the fish and milk you want, all the cuddles…~”
“Uah…”
“I missed you so much. Pretty Lothi~” Din’s hands slide up your waist, bunching up the shirt around your waist. “I want you…are you gonna fall asleep? Or can you stay up with me a little while?”
The whine of sheer, unadulterated need that escapes your mouth is embarrassing. You are so sleepy, but you want Din bad. “Pleasepleaseplease—!”
He laughs, warm and real as he slides off your shirt. “Okay, okay. Eager little girl…~”
Din is gentle but firm as he spreads your legs, taking his time directing his mouth down your body with soft kisses until he finally dips down to your soaking heat. His lips envelop you into a hot surge of pleasure, making you squeal.
He starts to gently lick and taste you. It almost hurts with how good it feels. The pleasure from him that you yearned for once apart now real and crashing over you. His beard scratches between your legs as he eats you out, adding another layer to the already overwhelming sensations.
“A-aha~ Ngh— Din...I wan– wanted you so bad I touched myself~” You start rambling. His hands squeeze your thighs, permitting the noises that spill out of you. “By the gen—erater– aha~! P-pretended it was y-your hand~”
“Yeah?” He coos, replacing his tongue with his thumb. His pointer and middle finger probe your entrance before sliding into you. “Dirty little thing…I bet this feels better than pretending, huh?”
“Y-yeah~” You can’t even feel embarrassment about it as his tongue resumes its ministrations on your slick. You are so close it hurts, holding onto the edge of that cliff before letting go. Your hands grab Din’s head, something aching and whiny coming over you. “Gonna c-cum– aha, please…pl– daddy—! Ngh!”
Your whole body tremors with your release. Din works you through it, sitting up slowly once you are done. You pant hard, trying to recover as his deep brown eyes stare down at you, glazed over with a primal sort of desire.
“Daddy?” He repeats slowly.
You look up at him weakly, sleepy after all the exertion. Din squeezes your thighs. “Wh- wha…?”
“Is that where we are now? Are you that fucking horny, huh pretty girl?” He sees the flutter of your eyelids as he starts to palm his now throbbing cock through his pants. “You want daddy? You gonna doze off now that daddy has eaten you out~?”
“Ngh–” you squirm. “Din…”
“No, you are gonna finish what you started.” He croons, rubbing himself against your thigh. “If you want daddy then you’re gonna get one, whether you fall asleep or not. Okay?”
Clearly that had an effect on Din, a little mistake turning him on this much. You don’t even know why it came out. But you aren’t complaining. “Nya…~”
Din coos and kisses you, tugging off his pants and dragging his cock between your folds. “You want daddy to fuck you?”
“Y-yeah…”
“Yeah?” He grins. “You gonna fall asleep?”
“I don’t know…~” You whine and mewl, his hands forcing your thighs open. You bite your lip.
“Shh, relax. Meow f’me, it's okay…just relax.” Din slowly slides his cock into you, pulling you by the thighs forward, stuffing you to the hilt. He curses. “Fuck–”
Maybe Din can feel the pounding of your heart, the exhaustion in your limbs that causes him to start slow. Pulling his cock all the way out to the tip, then slowly pushing back in all the way to your cervix. After about ten of these thrusts, Din’s grunts getting insistent, he speeds up. Cursing, he starts totally slamming down into your little body. The wind gets knocked out of you, and you start seeing stars.
“D–” You choke, unable to say a word as he lifts you by the thighs and jackhammers into you, his cock bulging inside of you. The thick muscles of his arms suspending you effortlessly combined with the complete fullness he provides causes you to shiver and writhe as much as you can in your current position.
“Oh my– fuck! Yes, ad’ika thats it…so fuckin’ good for me…” Din grunts, his eyes rolling back as he focuses on thrusting into you. He bites your thigh, his hot breath tickling you with the pain and pleasure. You don’t know how you could possibly fall asleep while lying boneless as daddy Din fucks the air out of you.
“D-daddy–” You finally choke it out again, giggling until the consequences catch up to you and Din absolutely shatters your insides as he collapses on top of you, fucking you stupid. Your pussy makes an obscene squeak as you get wetter than you thought possible, only egging him on more.
“Oh stars im close~” Din grunts in your ear, his lips going to your mouth as he slows a little from the new position over you. His hips rock in and out, forcing you to feel every ridge and vein until he finally stutters. “Perfect little thing… ngk–!”
Hot, sticky cum spills into you. Din collapses on top of you, chest heaving.
You lay like that, lowkey getting crushed under the weight of a man like 3x your size as his spend drips out of you. Despite the suffocation risk, you feel euphoric. The hot, heavy weight of cum and man mixing with your exhaustion.
Now you are able to fall asleep, feeling Din slowly get up and pry himself away.
—
The next few days you genuinely don't get up. You sleep for an indiscernible amount of time, only kind of waking up when Din gets up and moves you to your fort, where you hear him going about his business.
Your time on Bracca didn’t let you rest, and while you got a little nap after, you were still so tired. Getting fucked like that did not help. Thus your body forced you to stay asleep in the safety of the ship, not on alert or worried about a thing.
While you hibernate, Din is exceptionally productive. He drops off Akao and cycles through two quick bounties from start to finish before you even stir. You only wake up when hunger starts to gnaw agonizingly at you, the wafting scent of hot fish filling the hull.
A bottle of blue bantha milk sits outside your fort, waiting for your rise. You pick it up and chug it on the way out of the ship, following the delicious trail. Din is sitting cooking fish at a fire.
You shuffle over, headbutting him and climbing onto his thigh. You notice the familiar clearing, trees and river illuminated by the morning sun. He makes room for you.
“Good. You're up.” he murmurs slowly, wiping a stray drop of blue attached to the corner of your lip. “Thought I killed you…”
“No…sleepy…” You lean against him. Your stomach makes an angry noise. Like a growling Tusken Raider about to charge. Din takes the fish off the flame, breaking it apart and offering it to you.
As you inhale your breakfast, Din gently fixes your messed up hair with gentle devotion. Even as you headbutt him for pats, he does not oblige immediately, smoothing out the evidence of your hibernation first before scratching behind your ears.
“You look like you got electrocuted…” He coos, holding you to him. Din watches as you demolish the fish to bone. He doesn’t say anything, even after all this time he is not one for quips, but you know he's surprised at the ferocity and speed of which you consume the whole fish, licking and gnawing the bones between your little fangs.
The two of you sit by the fire, content in each other's arms and company. The sun rises over the river, between the trees. The golden warmth spills over the two of you. The flicker of moonlight falls below the horizon, a new day beckoned in.
You have had your adventure. And for now, you are content with this. This is enough. More than enough.
Nothing to prove, nothing to fear or feel but the warm hands in your hair and on your back.
A/N- Hi guys. Sorry I have not updated since February. This one took forever and I couldn't resist starting a Joel Miller fic.
Anyway. fresh new 3.3k chapter for you all. I have not seen the movie yet, (don’t spoil,) but trust and believe I am hyped and it will hopefully carry me to the end of this fic once I do, as well as get some new readers.
Lmk what you think, thank you so much for reading and commenting! Please enjoy! <33
ao3 link here.
Word Count - 3.3k
A blaring alarm startles you awake. Work time. Got it.
You get up and somehow make your way to the train that will shuttle you to work by following two people you recognize from yesterday. Pulling on your poncho, you adjust it like the others on the train. You don’t want to stand out too much.
You fiddle with your collar before feeling the metal necklace on the back of your neck, like a reminder that Din is relying on you. As you press the cold beskar mudhorn into your palm, Jedd enters the train and comes over.
“Morinin’!” He chirps. “You wanna follow me around today? Learn a thing or two?”
“Sure.” You say, noncommittal. You need to get back to that generator. You don’t know how to turn off a generator. If you were Din you would probably shoot it.
“You heard that big bang last night?” He asks. “I don’t know what we are about to walk into, but if I had to guess, the scrap shifted.”
“Scrap shifted?”
“Yeah. Happened all the time back on Lotho Minor.” He shrugs casually, like talking about a minor weather event. “The whole place is made up of scrap. If something shifts, so does our workstation. I'm glad the track wasn’t affected, but it's probably going to look really different today than it did yesterday.”
Shit, you think. If the planet, or the junk on it can move, then how will you get back to the generator?
You try not to panic. Maybe the new layout will be a better way to the generator? Your tail tucks between your legs. You tell yourself it will be fine.
The platform you learned earlier has completely changed. The flat warehouse area you got off at yesterday is the same, the little office is still there. The only change is the tip of a wing crashed partly through the ceiling. But everything beyond, the tunnels and workspaces tucked between scraps, in the great engines of capital star ships, have changed. Now it’s not like your first day gave you a full and complete understanding of where everything is. Frankly you were too busy freaking out and then trying to not fall asleep.
The Boss is by the platform as the train approaches. He is red in the face, pacing. He kicks a stray hard hat, then kicks it again. Mara stalks out of the office, hands on her hips. When you exit, The Boss is screaming about scrap rats. Mara ignores him and comes over to you and Jedd. Sols awkwardly runs out of the other adjacent car.
“Oh good, all three of you. Why don’t you guys head down that corridor and see if it ends at the TIE-pile still. If so, grab some carabiners and repel down. You got them, Jedd?”
“You got it boss.” Jedd throws Mara some finger guns and waves you and Sols along, grabbing three of each of the supplies you will need; harnesses, masks, welding torches, and gloves.
“So what are we doing exactly?” Sols asks, tripping over himself as half of the big supplies are dropped into his arms. You are tasked with carrying the gloves and masks.
“This should be easy work.” Jedd replies, leading you down and through the scrap. “We are gonna dismantle some Fighters. Looks like they are still down there. Just hanging from the grates, chatting, sawing.”
Jedd peers down a great big drop between the walls of scrap, beckoning Sols to take a step back. He takes two.
“Is that safe?” You stand on your tiptoes, finding a window over Sols to try and get a look. “If everything keeps moving…”
“Oh yeah. This top layer here should be fine. Now don your gear, harness through the legs and over the shoulders. Tighten it with that, nice.”
Jedd gets you all sorted and shows you how to repel down from the ledge, to a precariously leaning pile of TIE-Fighter parts. Sols looks like he is about to throw up. You too are nervous, but there's another platform far below you that conceals the Ibdis Maw, which makes you feel better. Plus, you are here to be brave. If Sols knew about the big monster, you don’t think he would come down at all. He eventually gets the courage after you go first and he gets some encouragement from Jedd.
With the three of you now hanging like fruit on a very greasy, metallic vine, Jedd shows you how to break apart the ships with the torches. Sols is on the left, you on the right and Jedd in the middle. The torch is hot in your hands, shaking from the height as you are suspended in the air.
“Just don’t look down.” Jedd clearly used to his feet dangling as he sits calmly and begins to work. “So, what would you like to talk about?”
Sols just stares and you are busy adjusting your mask, the three of you sitting in the silence of the scrap and the sharp zapping of the work on the metal. You are the one to break it. “Uh. So, Sols. What did you do before this?”
Jedd grins, leaning over. “Don’t worry buddy, no one else can hear you from here.”
“Oh. I–I was just living with my dad on Corellia. He uh, he made ships, but he died a month ago and I couldn’t get work so I thought why not break ships apart?” He smiles nervously, the kind that you do when the story really isn’t happy but you don’t wanna kill the vibe. “What about you?”
Your heart sinks. Naturally you asking him that will lead him to ask you the same, you can’t be surprised about that. But you didn’t prepare for this!
Obviously you can’t tell the truth. That is probably a bad idea, and they might not believe you regardless of how they react. Your ear twitches, the earpiece from Din buzzing to life with his warm voice. As if you weren’t spooked enough.
“Hey, you there?”
Do you ignore him? No because he will be concerned and come swoop in on the Crest and get the job done himself. But you have an audience.
“That is the question….isn't it?” You spout. “Uh. Well yes. But let's see. So much happened, how did I end up here?”
“...Lothi?”
The two men stare at you in various stages of confusion, Din among them in spirit. Sols continues. “I mean, you just don’t seem like the type to choose this kind of thing.”
“Who is that? What are you doing?”
“Well Sols… I just really didn’t expect we would all get to know each other while suspended in the air by a harness in order to cut open a ship.” You say, hoping your ears aren’t conveying too much emotion. Din is probably worried about the activity he has caught you in. “But I know what I signed up for when I took this job. So I am not worried.”
“So…?”
Your mouth overrides your little brain and you just start spinning a story. “I just wanted to run away for a little while, I guess. Well not really. I got captured by some guy and that was bad so I hurt him and ran. I stole his ship and his stash of credits and pawned the ship for more. I lived freely until I got bored. Now I am here….yes.”
The mouths of the men across from you hang similarly to them, Sols especially shocked. Din is the first to comment.
“...The fuck kind of story is that?” He exclaims.
“Wow. That's…heh.” Jedd nods. You don’t think he believes you. You cannot blame him because that story is the exact opposite of you.
You don’t know what you were envisioning when you said ‘hurt.’ Kill, you suppose, but were too afraid to suggest it. It's inconceivable. But perhaps you would have been pushed to your unimaginable limits had things gone differently. If your knight in shining beskar armor hadn’t allowed his seemingly immovable heart to swell, perhaps you would have killed Komsun all that time ago. Either way, you are being pushed to be brave.
“Remind me not to mess with you…” Sols chuckles nervously. “You have more claws than me.”
You blush a little, fiddling with the torch in your hands. The three of you get back to work.
“Sounds like you are okay. I will call you tonight, okay? Remember, the generator.” Din hangs up. Maker what you would give to be napping on the floor of the Crest with him right now.
You three slowly chip away at the ship, chatting lightly. You find yourself getting drowsy from the monotony of it all. You can only handle so many ‘how’s it hanging jokes.’ Turning your eyes to below, you see other workers shuffling through the scrap with their own tasks. The handheld comm in your pocket from the first generator ordeal suddenly rings with Mara and the Boss’ voices.
“...She still have that comm?” The Boss’ voice in the background comes through. You pull it out.
“Im trying it now. Hey, you there?”
“Hi Mara. I still have this thing, yeah…” Jedd and Sols lean in to listen.
“Hey can you—” Shes cut off and the Boss takes over. “Hey, Cat! Get back up to the platform and help us with these rats!”
“Oh. Okay…?” You glance at Jedd.
“See, the Boss doesn’t think you're completely useless! He’s profiling you though.” He sighs, pushing one of his blue lekku off his shoulder.
He helps you get back up. You wave to the guys still hanging below, left to dismantle the ship pile without you. You like not being suspended like that, and won't mourn the activity being cut short. You trek back through the passageway, drop off your repelling gear, and meet Mara by the office.
She's unbothered, chewing some kind of root. You assume it's some kind of relaxant or narcotic. You don’t know or blame her. She nods over to the Boss, rambling to a worker about the rats.
“He wants you to go crawl around and kill any rats you find.” She hands you a small blaster, that you can't really call a blaster but will supposedly get the job done. Glad she does not expect you to do it bare handed like an actual lothcat might.
You head off into the passage she directs you to, having to army crawl in before being able to stand up. While you may have just made up a story about killing a guy but that does not mean you are prepared to kill anything, not even pesky scrap rats.
You crawl around the passages and shafts that make up the complicated layout of the planet. You tentatively shoot the rats you come across, softly apologizing and continuing on.
Din does more on the daily and does not bat an eye, you tell yourself. But suddenly you realize something. You are not Din.
You are working on your bravery, sure. But that does not mean you have to do this, you aren’t an exterminator. You are here to help Din so that he can be the one to do what needs to be done. You need to look for the generator. Who cares if the rats chew up all the Bracca wiring?
You keep crawling around. You don’t know how you are supposed to get to the generator from here, not to mention all this excitement tiring you out. Your stamina is more frustrating than your cowardice.
After a while you hear music, deciding to head towards it, blaster in your mouth. You eventually end up coming out of a pipe about 20 feet up, overlooking a workspace in a starship engine with several burly workers blasting harsh music. You sit in the pipe watching for a while until one spots you and waves. You wave back as he comes over. A few others turn, lowering the music.
“You need help getting down, miss?” The waving man shouts up at you.
You look around. “I think I might, yes!”
“I’ll catch you.” He says. “Are you okay with that?”
“Yes!” You shuffle forward and drop down. He faithfully catches you and carefully sets you on the ground. “Thank you mister!”
“Of course. Where are you headed?”
“Im looking for the generator. Um...I'm after rats!”
He thinks for a moment. “Oh, well kitty, let's see… it used to be through there, but with the shift last night I am not sure. That's all I got.”
“Okay, thank you very much.” You head towards the new path, significantly wider than the other ones you have been through today. The guys wave you goodbye, turning their music back on. They seem nice.
The way is a breath of fresh air, wide enough that someone coming the opposite way could actually pass you. You don't pass anyone though, just rats you leave be. They squeak and gnaw at wires and metal, the heavy music from the starship engine intermission slowly dissipating. All you hear is the soft whir of machinery and scurrying of rats. It makes you sleepy.
You are starting to really slow down.
Ahead the path seemingly ends, debris piled up. You think about turning around, admitting defeat for the day, but there's a small opening at the bottom thanks to a thick metal sheet wedged at an angle between the walls, holding up the rest. You give it a try, going back to army crawling.
The debris is only about five feet in width, ending as the passage narrows and platforms up. You climb out and up, while forced into minor contortionism and cannot help but sit and rest once free. Before you know it you have dozed off.
You are out hard, dreaming of when you finally return back to the safety of the Razor Crest, where Din takes care of everything and praises you for turning off the generator. His voice, deep and comforting in your ear as he scratches you just right until eventually—
“Lothi! Hey! Come in!” Din calls your name, increasingly urgent as you don’t reply. “It's off, did something go wrong? Where the hell are you?”
Jerking awake, you slam your head on the wall in your haste to reply. You whine, fumbling with the comm. “Din? Sorry–”
“You got to the generator, didn’t you? I'm monitoring the powerbanks and I saw it went offline? Can you come to the meeting point?”
You are about to tell him that you have no fucking clue what he’s talking about, that you fell asleep. But the soft squeaking and thumping of little feet make you realize.
The rats chewed through the generator wires again, didn’t they.
You let Din think it was you. Naturally. “Oh, yeah. My comm, um— it didn’t reach buried under all the scrap. I couldn’t hear or call until now. I will come to the main platform in a sec, can you fly over there?”
“Yeah. Just sit tight, Cyare…”
Finally you can get off this planet. Crawling through pipes and decrepit ships all day makes you feel so gross. Not to mention how sleepy it makes you. Maybe two days wasn’t enough to really give the job its due, but you don’t care. Not the life for you, you reckon.
You make your way back to the burly men workstation and take the scenic route, i.e a slim but railed path wrapping around the edge of your pile of scrap overlooking the junkyard sunset. It leads back towards the main platform. No more secret passageways.
As you descend, you make eye contact with a worker through a window in one of the little offices along the path. It's Sheeb Akao. The guy Din’s after.
He holds eye contact with you the entire time until you finally are out of view, as if he knows. Knows who and what you are after. You walk a little faster until you are at your destination. Exhaling sharply, you peer up at the sky in hopes of glimpsing the ship. You reach up and turn your comm on to tell Din you are waiting.
Quickly though, before you even feel movement behind you, a hand grabs you from behind and covers your mouth. You are dragged backwards into the bottom floor of the office from earlier.
“Shh, shh… don’t squirm Lothi.” Akao’s voice murmurs in your ear. Din comes through in the other, hearing your muffled screams and the perpetrator’s voice.
“Cyare! What's going on?!”
“I heard about a bounty hunter posted up in Nevarro with a Lothi trailing behind.” He says, pulling out a blaster and pointing it to your temple “I also heard I have a bounty on me. Is that your guy, little one? Mandalorian? Did he send you?”
You screech, his grip on your face tightening.
“Deny it. He cannot know I'm coming. I'm almost there, baby. You’re okay… It's okay...” Din says, clearly upset. Scared.
You begin to cry and shake your head. Akao forces the blaster harder into you. “I can’t go back to jail. They are going to kill me this time, and i like living. Don’t you?”
You nod vigorously.
“Then tell me the fucking truth!” He shouts.
What would Din do here? Shoot him, probably. He has all sorts of fancy gadgets, unlike you. And in such high stress your brain wants to shut off. But you remember now. You have the rat blaster. You pull it from your pocket and shoot it back, praying it hits him. It does.
You swiftly break free, Akao misfiring into the window next to you. The glass shatters as you duck and spew the little shots at him as best as you can. Evidently you hit him in the eye, because you are able to run.
Din swoops down in the Razor Crest as you scamper across the metal. He opens the door and jumps out, sprinting in the direction of the office. “Get in, go!”
You obediently jump into the ship. You nearly slide down the ladder on your way to the cockpit, but recover and begin flying away as instructed. Below, you can see as Akao tries to take a lift. The generator is still off, however, so Din is able to follow. Panicked, he dives off the platform and lands on a floating droid among a cluster of three. Din follows suit, landing on another as his armor glistens in the sunset. You follow at a distance, high above the action.
They drop and drift around the scrap pile, the droids flying quicker. The two start shooting at each other until Din lands one on Akao’s droid as they soar over the mouth of the Ibdis Maw. He drops, terror consuming his features as he lets go of the now flaming droid and drops to seeming death. To your surprise, Din dives after him. They free fall together until Din sets off his jetpack and grabs his bounty and knocks him over the head with the butt of his blaster.
The ship loyally swoops down, controlled by one of Din’s many wrist gadgets. You press the button to open the hull, allowing him to fly in and get Sheeb Akao frozen in carbonite.
You take a long, contented breath as you hear the hissing of the freezer. Din comes up to the cockpit and takes over the pilot’s seat, despite turning on autopilot.
He does not say anything to you. No ‘good jobs’ or anything. He just scoops you up in his arms as he sits, offering you a chew toy and pulling off a glove to give you some very missed scritches. You cuddle up against him, gnawing on your toy.
You fall asleep again before you even leave the atmosphere, the last thing you hear is Din’s voice, soft and to himself.
“You did so well, sweet girl…~” He coos. “My good little kitty…”
A/N- Hello. We have a lot to talk about. First off, NEW MANDO TRAILER RAGGH. He looks so fucking good. Movie might end up being cheeks but I don't even care im so hyped. Secondly, you may notice that this fic will end on chapter 20. I know, I know. T-T All good things must come to an end, but I would love to come back to this fic after some time, maybe revise. Especially with the new movie. But for now let's just enjoy it as we go. Ironically, this chapter took me a while bc I had to write an essay on the story the last chapter was based on. Anyway, enjoy and please leave some feedback! <333
Ao3 link can be found here.
Word Count - 3.6k
It takes you a week to get better. Din sits by your side, quietly researching on a datapad. You don't bother paying attention to what. Din is up. He's ready to work. This time, with you as his accomplice.
He sits you down on top of the storage boxes, looking terribly serious. Sliding on his gauntlets, Din looks at you. He pulls a puck from his belt. “You wanna be useful…”
“Yes.”
“Listen up. This is Sheeb Akao.” The puck displays an older man with a distinct snaggletooth. “Wanted for being involved with the Empire. Now works on the junkyard planet Bracca where he's hiding out. The thing is, I can’t land without my ship getting turned into the landscape.”
“Then how are we supposed to get in and out of the planet?” You ask.
“They have a train.” He says. “But I can’t bring my gear that way. So I need you to go ahead. And I can’t just walk around the site, so you’re going to have to get me a pin, a keycard, just something. I can fly the ship remotely and swap with you once that happens.”
“Oh. That's…a lot.”
“Think you are up to it? It might be a few day job, and you were just sick…” He says doubtfully.
“I want to help you.” You glare. “And I’m better now. I am!”
“So you are…listen, for the record, I don’t like the idea of sending you in there.” He says. “I would have prepared you more if we had time. But you're better…thats more important.”
Din gives you a pat, then climbs up to the cockpit. You follow after a moment of small discomfort.
Din explains things more thoroughly on the way, leaving your eyes crossed and wondering if all his jobs are this complicated. You thought it was a matter of following footprints and tackling. Most jobs must be at least simple enough for handling solo. And with far less dress-up.
Before you know it, you are in a bright orange poncho standing in a cramped room with eight other newbies to the world of scrapping. You are the shortest amongst them, and also the only girl so you are stood in front, in the splash zone of the Foreman, a Latero.
And he does spit an awful lot while speaking.
“Tings have been weal hectic since we lost Empire business, and the New Wepublic isn’t making up fo it. Not yet anyway.” He says. “Teh basics of what we do is bweaking down ships and selling wats good on tem.”
He pulls up a holo-map that shows the planet, zooming in. Bracca is a rocky landscape with ships making up for more than organics, big industrial work sites, made of ships themselves, loom over the sea of scrap. Cranes, platforms, and bins litter the workspace. You have a feeling that you are going to be squeezing through a lot of those niches.
“Twee of you will be assigned to this sectow, sectow 2, teh wok as wiggers. Blue, homan, and kitty.” The foreman points to the blue twi’lek next to you, the only human of the bunch, and you. “Teh west awe gonna be in teh main wawehouse, pwolly as hazmats. Go on now, twain will take you to teh sites.”
The foreman shoos you all backward with his four hands in the direction of the holotrain. You can’t reach the handlebars on the top of the train, so instead choose to lean against the corner in the back of the car.
The wall hums, vibrating as the train starts. You can feel the couplers behind you. The human, your new coworker, comes over. He's average height and build, blonde and probably around 30.
“What’s your name? I assume it’s not just ‘kitty.’” He says, trying to seem nonchalant. But being given a particularly crackly voice, he is unsuccessful. He leans on the wall to further sell the image. “I’m Sols.”
You sheepishly introduce yourself before clearing your throat and reassuring yourself that you’re brave. Sols nods before the train shakes a little. He scrambles for the upper handles, abandoning the facade with a little grin of fear.
The blue Twi’lek comes over, wrapping a big arm around Sols’ shoulder. He's older and built like a brick wall. Sols visibly tenses up.
“Well, looks like we are gonna be a team.” He says, patting Sols on the side of the head. “I'm Jedd. Don’t worry, I’m not new. Just a transfer. So you two are in good hands.”
“Where are you transferring from?” You ask.
“Lotho Minor.” He says, finally releasing poor Sols to grasp the bars.
“Oh.”
“Been there?” He asks.
“No.”
“Well, what got you in the scrapping business?” Jedd asks, before swiftly replying to himself with a chuckle. “Running from something? Heh, heh, we all are.”
You are suddenly reminded of your mission. Sheeb Akao was running, and now he’s here. And now you're here.
You feel around your pocket for the little earpiece Din gave you before you left. He had a hard time fitting it in your big, furry ears. You look to the side and pretend to scratch your ear, instead you discreetly tuck the earpiece in.
It came with a commlink connected to the earpiece that you keep in your pocket. You don’t turn it on yet, even if you want to hear Din’s voice as a comfort. You can do this.
The train lurches to a stop.
The three of you exit onto a red metal platform suspended by pillars over a sea of busted TIE fighters and Resistance wings. A crumpled Star Destroyer looms in the distance. The engines alone are of a size incomprehensible.
The planet smells of jet fuel and humidity. You trail behind the men towards some kind of warehouse. Another man, awfully loud, greets you inside. He introduces himself as ‘just your boss,’ and starts assessing you all like fresh meat.
“Boring.”
“Big, smiley. Quit that.”
“And…” He pauses at you with a furrowed brow. “What the fuck? Do they just send any and everyone to my sector?”
You feel your ears droop. Your tail swipes the floor to nestle between your legs. Shit.
“Do you at least know how to operate a crane? Lifts?” He asks, disgruntled. He turns to the office and calls out for someone. “Hey! Mara!”
A woman in a stained khaki jumpsuit rolls out on an office chair. She looks at the three of you, seeming to be bothered by the interruption to whatever she was doing, but unbothered by you. “What? The newbies?”
The boss just makes an exaggerated waving movement, displaying you with a certain disbelief to her like you just pantsed him or something. You feel your face get hot.
Mara just shrugs. “What? Anyone can apply. You think she wants to be here? Just be thankful for the help…”
She pushes off the ground and rolls leisurely back into the office, leaving the boss irate and you unsure. The boss glares at you before pointing towards the office door. You stalk off towards it.
You suppose he does not know how to handle a girl, and thus wants the other girl to take you under her wing. The office is just a small box with bright lights and two pre-imperial looking computers on an L-shaped desk.
“He’s an ass, don’t mind him. I'm Mara.” She unwraps some kind of small lollipop from a dusty bowl before motioning for you to help yourself. You take one for later, stuffing it into the recesses of your poncho. “C’mon. I’ll teach you how to use the crane.”
You follow her out onto the platform. Jedd is already helping some nearby coworkers while the boss shoves a laser cutter into poor Sols’ hands and walks off. She leads you down a corridor that you are pretty sure is just the inside of a ship engine, and down a ladder to a bright, massive crane on a section below. The crane is extendable, with a clamp on the end, big enough to lift a small fighter ship. “As you were probably told, this crew is the riggers. We do lots of dismantling in those odd spots. And given your stature, you can expect to crawl around a lot. Just a heads up.”
You should have anticipated that.
Mara waves you into the crane, where there’s two levers and a button. “Think of it like a…big claw machine. Not too hard. Now—“
“Mara!” The boss stalks over. “The electrics are all out! Damn scrap rats probably chewed the wire. Bring the little one back, she can thread a new one.”
“You can tell her yourself, you know.” Mara points you out with a sigh. Instinctually, you follow along back up to the main area, feeling awkward.
Something settles in your stomach, a feeling that reminds you of how you felt nearly getting trampled on the busy streets of Coruscaunt. Unfortunately, there is no Din around to lift you up and out. Not yet anyway. You’ve only just started.
Holding a bright blue cord, you are instructed to climb through a very narrow passage, to a generator and plug it in. You are given a comm, and sent on your merry way.
The passage is long, skinny and tall. You have to do an awkward shuffle that eventually turns to a crouch, then back to a shuffle. The aforementioned scrap rats, ever notorious you imagine, scurry to and fro above your head and beneath your feet.
You are given an awful amount of time to think. Mara seems nice. She would probably make a good friend, mentor. She has a strength that reminds you of Cara.
You wish you had more time with Cara. You wonder if she will ever call on Din for that thing she wanted help with. You don’t think she will.
The niche you are currently shifting your lower body through finally ends. You are panting now, before squealing at the drop below. All fatigue is choked out of you
The path continues as a red semicircle of metal, with a fall below so vast you almost can’t make out the gigantic organism below.
“U-um…Mara?” You gasp into the comm, trying not to look down. “How..I— um..”
“I take it you’ve arrived at the gap. Just hold on to the wall to your left.” She says, somewhat sympathetically.
“But th-there’s a thing!”
“Oh. Um, that’s the Ibdis Maw. Just keep your chin up!”
Great, yeah. That’s helpful. You clutch the wall for dear life, cord still in hand. Slow and steady, you take it one step at a time. Apparently having a tail is supposed to help with balance, but you don’t feel like you have any more control right now. Especially not with a small planet sized mouth below!
One step. Then another. The metal creaks, the Maw’s mouth stretches so wide you feel what you presume is a breath blow upward. Third step, then a fourth. You reach the end after incredible precision and patience.
Once safely wedged between the two walls on the other side, you exhale. Something occurs to you, once most of the panic goes away.
Once you were free from your short slavery and impromptu wedding, you climbed a tree. Maker, that felt like ages ago. At the time that felt like one great big adventure. But this is a beast of another kind. Climbing a tree feels so childish now. That was the first time Din called you pathetic.
You don’t feel pathetic now. Afraid, yes.
You feel the mudhorn necklace around your neck, squeezing the cool beskar in your trembling hand. And then you continue on.
“Plug that cord into the marked outlet. Got that?” The boss comes through the comm. A big crash is heard. You feel the rumble. “Oh shit! Okay, haul that back up, we got people through there! Kid, just sit tight! Plug that in, and we’ll clear the way back for you!”
“Wait, what—?” You start, before the boss hangs up. You go over to the big generator, for some reason hidden behind walls of scrap. There’s a distinct blue outlet. You assume that’s the right one.
You plug it in. Nothing seems to happen.
“Great kid, good! Sit tight! Some ship is blocking your way out. Sorry!”
So you sit tight. Casual. You sit up on the threshold of the passage you just came from, legs swinging. Anxiously, you hear nothing. That’s fine, you are good at waiting.
Swapping comms, you try to contact Din. There’s no signal buried in scrap, though.
You miss him. Like a lot. It’s only been like two days but it feels like it’s been weeks. Fighting and illness you suppose. It takes time away from even the most prepared. It's been so long since he's given you love. Proper, good love.
You squirm at the idea.
Actually, you can't tell if you want him to scratch behind your ears, call you his good girl, or fuck you stupid over the console. Hopefully all of the above once you do your job.
You keep waiting, thinking about Din. You really ought to be thinking about your mission, but you are you. One track mind. And right now the idea of his voice alone is all you can think of. And as embarrassed as it makes you, despite being alone in a pile of scrap, you feel your hand slip into your pants.
You’re soaking already, just from a little daydreaming.
Imagining it’s Din’s hand between your legs, his bicep straining fabric as it wraps around you, your fingers rub gentle circles on your clit.
If you use your imagination enough, you can almost feel his other hand scratching your ears or keeping your legs open. Your hand speeds up. You choke out a whine.
Fuck, why can’t it be real?
You slide down on the floor, lying on your back and shoving your pants half off. Two of your fingers slip inside of you, but the length of your fingernails makes you recoil. In desperation you just bite them off and resume.
“Ah…D-din~”
You don’t think you have ever fingered yourself before. It’s weird, but nice. Biting the back of your free hand, you get desperate. You keep pumping, switching back to your clit, and so on but can’t quite get there.
“Fuck.” You lose the thin strung illusion, the pleasure built.
You sit back up in defeat just in time for your comm to buzz, glad no one can see the wash of crippling embarrassment that overtakes you.
“We got it! Come back the way you came!”
That was quick. Kind of.
You crawl back to the great test of fortitude, careful not to trip over the blue cord that now lies overtop. The second time over the red beams feels a little bit less scary.
You bet this would be child’s play to Din. He probably does this kind of precarious maneuver every mission, weighing tons more and with a blaster in both hands. Which, admittedly, is kind of hot.
Out of the rat filled purgatory, Jedd gives you a little singular applause. The boss nods as he passes by, herding a small group of workers by yelling at them about the blockage. That's all you get for your trouble, though you expected nothing else.
No one gives you further instruction. Mara is nowhere to be found, nor is the boss. Your eyelids flutter, drooping with the rest of you. It's way past your preferred naptime, and you feel the consequences catching up. You decide to follow Jedd as he makes his way down to a lower engine.
“Well hi!” He chuckles as you join him on the lift. “Rats give you any trouble?”
“No…”
“That's a relief. They were really vicious on Lotho Minor.” He says, flipping his cutter in the air as the platform descends.
“Did you have a…an Ibdis Maw?” You ask sheepishly, peering over the edge as the two of you walk down the hanging platform and into a slanted hangar. Or what looks like a hangar. There’s no ships inside.
“What? No, just lots of rats and droids.” Jedd shrugs, heading for a workbench in the back. “Cutter’s jammed. Won’t extend. Say, did you need something?”
“No, I just don’t have anything to do right now. I don’t think so, anyway.” You shuffle your feet. “Why did you transfer?”
“Oh just some trouble within the Scrappers Guild. Lots of people got dropped off from Bracca’s workforce, so I transferred to make up for it.”
“Dropped off…?”
“Eh. Displaced. Missing. I don’t know the details.”
So dead. Jedd is just being modest. You take that it’s for your sake, in case you have a sensitive stomach. Thankfully you don’t. Not after the life you’ve been living. Pathetic as you may have been, unable to get out of a tree, you have now born full witness to the hard, dirty, and occasionally gory life of a bounty hunter.
They say to be married is to bear witness to someone else’s life. And Din, well. His life is fucking brutal. He’s fucking brutal. You’re only just trying it out at the moment, but you’ve seen him come back drenched head to toe in guts, even when he tries to hide it.
Back to your task though. Jedd is familiar with scrapping. He probably knows where you can find a keycard so Din can move around freely in this maze.
“Say, are all junkyard planets this… hard to traverse?” You ask, trying to be casual.
“Well they sure aren’t pathed in shiny gold!” Jedd chuckles, fumbling with some kind of screwdriver. “This one is a little overkill with some of their precautions i’ve heard, though…”
“Precautions?” You blink. Now you are getting somewhere, you think. But your body is fighting you for a nap. Focus! We are busy!
“Yeah something about a–” He pauses. “Hey kid, you look like you are about to fall over. Don’t worry, the day is almost over.”
“M’fine.”
He pats you on the head, a little harshly but not with any ill-will behind it. Just a guy unaware of his strength. “Lets head back up. The train should be coming in 15. May I..?”
You nod, almost as a knee jerk response. Jedd crouches and hoists you up so you are perched on his left shoulder, minding the blue lekku that protrude from his head. Its odd being carried by someone other than Din.
“There we go. You’ll get used to the hours eventually.” He says positively.
Hopefully not, you find yourself wanting to say.
The quarters you’re given are awfully depressing. Prison like bunks, three to a room. The cell on B-967, where you and Din sat awaiting marriage, was bigger than this is. Thankfully, the other two beds are empty. Mara said there was “an accident.”
The bed is just as uncomfortable as the weird bunk in the Crest, but you are too sleepy to care. You fall right asleep.
An indiscernible amount of time you are woken up by your comm beeping. Bleary eyed and in the pitch black of the room, you answer.
“Mm..Din?”
“Lothi?”
“Hi…”
“Why didn't you check in?”
“Oh, um. I tried when I was alone but it was blocked.” You hear him sigh. Hard. You cannot tell if it was a sigh of relief or frustration.
“And right now? You got to the quarters three hours ago.” He asks, voice rough. “Have you figured out a way to get me in? Remember, I need to be able to walk around freely like I'm a foreman. I don’t have time for things to get in the way.”
You’re hesitant to admit you fell asleep. But he probably already knows that. “I fell asleep. I didn’t know this would be so tiring!”
“You are not helping my faith in you, cyar’ika. Are you sure you can handle this?”
“Yes! Don’t be like that. I just..need to adjust. The boss probably has some kind of keycard or something I can find.” You tell him, feeling your tail curl around you anxiously.
“Probably.” He repeats impatiently.
“Well all the electronics shut down because of the scrap rats, so the boss sent me to plug a new cord into the generator.” You explain. “And that took forever. I didn’t get any free time to poke around!”
“Wait what?”
“What?”
“Are you telling me that all of the electronics…elevators, doors, cranes, are all powered by one generator?” Din scoffs in disbelief.
“Um. Well it might just be my sector. The foreman said something about sectors, and I doubt they have cords that extend that far…”
“Lothi. Sweet girl.” Din says firmly. “I need you to turn off that generator. Akao is in the same sector you are. Disable all the checkpoints and I don’t even need an access code.”
“Oh.” The balancing act over the Maw comes to mind. You don’t want to do that again. “Right.”
“Can you do that for me?”
“Yeah…” You mumble.
“...whats wrong?”
“Theres a big…Ibdis Maw and to get to the generator I have to walk some thin metal planks straight over its mouth…” You squirm thinking about it.
“Im coming to get you.”
“No! I can do it, I will be fine!” You protest.
“You can barely make it through a day without falling asleep! This is too much for you!” He snaps back. You hear the ships whirring through the comm.
“Let me prove you wrong. That's the whole point!”
“I would rather you bail on this than die, sweetheart.” He tells you, voice lowering. “Fine. But please do not feel bad for tapping out, okay?”
“You won’t regret it.” You say. “...I miss you.”
“I miss you too.” He says softly. “Now get some sleep so you can make me proud.”
A/N- Hi. It's been a while and I apologize. Little writing was done over my Christmas Break. And I said I didn't wanna start a new fic, but im thinking about starting an Arthur Morgan one... we will see. This chapter was loosely inspired by The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Gilman. Why? I don't know. Im an English major.
Next chapter I have ideas for, but do lmk what ideas you have.
Anyway, feedback is always appreciated, and enjoy!
Ao3 link can be found here.
Word Count - 2.7k
Cara sleeps in the hole in the wall cot, the door shut. Din on the floor as usual. He wakes with a weight on his chest, stirring slightly with a soft modulated grunt. The ship is dim, lit by the faint red and blue glow of controls and buttons.
About 15 minutes ago, you woke up. The box blocking you was moved, kindly. So you scooted out, finding everyone asleep and your anger still bubbling.
Din must be dealt with before you or he can sleep peacefully again.
“Lothi…” He grumbles, still lying flat. He doesn’t make any attempt to move. “What the hell are you doing? Sittin’ on me like a tooka…?”
You don’t reply, just staring down at him, perched on his chest. Your tail idly flicks behind you. He really looks dead when he sleeps.
Din sighs, grumbling sleepily. “Get off. Stop staring at me…”
“No.”
“No?” He scoffs. “What are you doing?”
“Watching.”
“Yore being fuckin’ creepy is what you’re doing.” He goes to sit up and lift you off him, but you push him back down with little hands. “What are you doing this for?”
“I’m angry with you.” You reply coolly, keeping him pinned. You and him both know that if he wanted to, he could easily force you off. But he humors you.
“Angry.” He murmurs, as if amused at the idea. “So you sit on me while I sleep, acting like a kitty staring? Or are you trying to suffocate me?”
“You are going to listen to me...” You tell him, as firm as you can.
“No, you’re going to wake up Cara with all this whining. Go back to sleep.”
“Din.”
“Stop.”
“You need to listen to me.”
He grumbles, sitting up despite you. He keeps you in his arms and climbs up to the cockpit. He deposits you in the copilot's chair and sits on his own, rolling exhaustion out of his shoulders. “What the hell do you want?”
Your ears flit, glaring up at him. He glares back. Or at least you think he does, the helmet is on.
“Take it off.” You instruct, not wanting to be at a disadvantage. You need to see him.
He scoffs at that, beskar querking to the side as if sizing you up. “How about you tell me what the hell has you up and attempting to crush my ribs in my sleep?”
“Take it off. My business is with Din, not Mando!”
“I’m the same fucking person! Fine, fine!” He growls slamming the button to shut the cockpit and taking off his helmet. He drops it firmly onto the console with a thump. You were right. He is glaring. “Out with it.”
“You were mean to me. I know I am not allowed to open the door but you were mean and unreasonable!” You tell him, throat feeling tight. But you are going to communicate with him, he’s going to understand.
“Well when you’re dumb I’m not going to tolerate it. Even if it requires me being mean.” He says, arms crossed over his big chest.
“I wasn’t being dumb.” You grimace. “I was very logical and you didn’t listen to me.”
“Go on then. Explain it.”
“Cara was calling for you. Knocking. She clearly knew you, and she didn’t sound angry. She sounded amused. So I assumed she knew you and she wasn’t gonna go away. So I took one of your blasters just in case, and took the gamble and opened the door to tell her you weren’t here.”
“That does not excuse you from doing it in the first place. You just told me what happened.” Din says, a scowl that could sharpen blades camping on his face. Your hands scrunch around your shirt, curling tight.
“I thought it through! I’m able to use foresight, I’m not stupid!” You say, voice breaking slightly. “You trapped me in my fort!”
“But you went against my orders. On Tatooine, a planet full of slavers. You went against the orders I gave you to keep you safe!” He gets a little louder before quelling his volume. He takes a hard breath. “Someone could have seen you, did you think about that in your little assessment? No.”
You feel heat travel up your neck, thankful for the dark to hide your blush. Tears prick your eyes, but you choke them back. Din is going to listen to you. “That’s not the point…”
“No? Not a concern of yours, getting snatched again?” He scoffs. “Of course not.”
“The point is you were a jerk about it! Condescending, acting like I don’t know anything!” You shriek, voice breaking again. Despite your best effort, you feel tears spill down your face. Now he really won’t take you seriously. Din might not be able to see the color of your cheeks, but he can see the glint of tears streaming.
“Well I’m sorry if I’m not the brightest after trekking through hot sand for days…” Din grumbled, rubbing a hand over his bare face. “I’m going back to sleep, if you’re done.”
“I’m not done!” You croak, ears drooping. But as you try and make your case, you realize how futile it is. Your tears block any good rhetoric that comes to mind. Din puts his helmet back on, still scowling. He gathers you into his arms and brings you back down to your fort.
He goes to sleep back on the floor, away from you.
It’s so frustrating. You know he just wants to take care of you, keep you safe. But he’s so infuriating and you don’t want to be so pathetic. You watch Din sleep from just outside your little hideaway until you feel creepy.
—
There’s something so interesting about watching Din with a peer. Usually anyone he interacts with is a foe or unequal to him. But Cara is neither.
Watching them interact is so odd, you think because Din is relaxed. Seeing him in a good mood, with a friend no less, would make you happy under normal circumstances. But after yesterday and last night, you have decided to ignore him and keep your distance. Unfortunately, with someone else on board, ignoring him doesn’t have as much of an impact.
After the quick pit stop, you arrive on Correlia. Cara collects her things and crouches down in front of you, giving you a little scratch behind the ears.
“Well little Lothi, it was really nice to meet you. If you need someone to beat Mando up, feel free to call me. Or if you want blaster lessons, I’d be happy to oblige. Everyone should know how to protect themselves.” She says to you, before looking up at Din. “Thanks for the ride.”
“Don’t mention it. Need any help?” He asks, leaning casually against the wall.
“If you’re up for haggling for a decent ship price with me. I know you’re good at that…” She chuckles, bag slung over her shoulder. “And look out for a holo, I might need some help with something I have cooking…”
“Why not.” Din shrugs, looking over at you. “You good?”
You don’t answer him, turning away. Din sighs hard, grumbling as he leaves you on the ship. The door closes and you are left alone in the dark hull.
It feels darker than usual, despite the day lights being on. Something about the hull interior just strikes you as hideous as you gaze around. Dank, dark and metallic with just enough buttons aglow to distract every now and then. No little decorations, colored panels or anything. It really is awful.
Naturally, the Razor Crest wasn’t designed with aesthetics in mind. You know that. But you are almost glad that Kuna has been hidden away so that he doesn’t have to occupy the dreadful space alongside you. You feel a little sick. A shadow by the freezer looks like claw marks leading to the frozen bounty faces. It’s symbolic, in a way.
Sitting alone, you start to miss Naboo, with its comfortability and beauty. Chewing dully on your rings, you go up to the hull and drop into the pilots chair.
Normally you wouldn’t dare touch the console, but you feel bold. By now you’ve watched Din enough to know how it works too. You don’t turn on the engines or any of the mechanisms that touching would get you put in a box for weeks, just the navigation system. Inputting Naboo, you leave it idling on there for Din to see when he comes back.
Swiveling in the chair, you slow and land looking on the right side of the control panel. Kuna lies limp, wedged between the visor and console. You thought Din hid all your toys out of reach, so seeing your little friend here is a little startling. Especially since you didn’t notice him before.
Kuna looks at you as if he is just as unsettled by your unjust punishment, you think. Something about his beady eyes looks so expressive. You don’t think you’ve seen an inanimate object have such feeling!
As a little kid, you would always be very content looking at things, picking out faces in the knobs of drawers or the fierce mouths of chairs. Incredible terror and entertainment could come from looking at walls in the night.
Thankfully Kuna has a face, and you don’t have to do any work to see it. But up until now you haven’t seen him so agitated up on his perch. So you take him and retreat back to your fort. If Din didn’t want you to have him, he wouldn’t have been so easy to find.
Din returns, and you are still in no mood for him.
“Hey.” He nudges the outer box of your fort with his foot. “We are going. Got more jobs.”
You don’t reply to him, don’t even come out to look at him. He scoffs and goes up to the cockpit. You hear him call to you, obviously seeing your little message. “Don’t touch the nav! And no, we can go back after we get these jobs done!”
He flies the ship, things are silent for a while. You are perfectly fine with that. Once you are gliding through deep space, Din comes back down and crouches in front of your fort.
“Hey.”
You don’t reply.
“Cyare, c’mon… I’m getting the silent treatment now?”
Nothing.
“Okay, well as promised I’ll go get your toys.” He relents. You hear him shuffle with one of the bins, and he dumps them on the floor in front of your fort. “There. Now you can’t complain about—“
The ship lurches violently and cuts him off. Din stumbles and braces against the ladder before wordlessly climbing up. You can’t be mad about him running off mid sentence. Not this time anyway.
There's a good amount of turbulence that you try your best to hide from. Something is clearly wrong, and Din pulls out of hyperspace to land. He slides back down the ladder and goes outside. From the sound of running water, you are at your usual forest clearing. Following, your curiosity trumps your anger.
“What’s wrong?” You ask, looking up at Din who is already up on one of the engines. He pries off one of the ship panels to get a look inside, scoffing.
“Just one thing after another…” He fusses for a moment before putting the panel back and hopping down. “Come on, there’s a town a few miles off.”
“You want me to come?” You blink. He usually prefers to go alone on supply runs.
“You have been cooped up in the ship for so long, thought you might like a walk. But fine, stay. Saves me the hassle of carrying you home.”
You suppose he’s right, but you don’t want to slow him down. And something stirs inside you, egging you to stay by your fort to quell the spinning in your head. Even if you are proving your helplessness. “No, I wanna help.”
“Then stay in this perimeter and collect some firewood.” He says coolly, already heading off. “Can you do that much?”
You have to hold yourself back from tackling him.
You collect the firewood, piling it by the ship. It’s an easy task. Din is gone for about three hours.
The river flows sweetly nearby, and you go sit on the rocks and watch the fish swim upstream. You wonder how easy it would be to catch one. You putter around a little longer before Din comes back, and you return to the river.
Watching the fish makes you dizzy, but perhaps that's just from the intensity of which you watch them before falling into the cool water, arms open.
Hearing the great splash, Din whips around. He's already at the river's edge by the time you resurface a little downstream, collapsing onto the bank with a big flopping fish cradled in your arms.
“I caught it! I caught it!” You shriek, unable to stand holding the fish too long. It writhes and slips from your hands, gasping on the bank towards the grass in the complete wrong direction it would want. You try and still it, but you too pant. Instead you rise, pulling it further from the river just to be safe. Din stands still, visibly stirred by the whole ordeal. “Can we cook it?”
“...don’t scare me like that.” He grumbles, stalking over. You repeat your question. “As long as you quit it with the silent treatment. And before you start, no I don’t think you aren’t stupid. The door thing is in the past.”
“Is it though?”
“Do you want the fish or not?” He picks the fish up. “You get that firewood?”
“Yeah…” You shuffle after him. The sun beats down onto your wet form, framed in the sky by the circle of trees around the clearing. The heat feels like it seeped into your eyes.
“How’d you manage to grab one this big? This thing weighs as much as you.” Din scoffs, putting the fish on the rock next to the kindling you gathered. He pulls a utility knife from his belt. “Go get the tray from inside.”
Going inside, the hull swallows you up. Soft whirring, dim lights and the comfort of your fort calling to you like a siren. But you want to eat the fish and you want to be helpful. But rearranging your little nest sounds awfully appealing, lying down to stop the odd feeling in your body.
You look up to open one of the cabinets by the pullout kitchen, but immediately fall over once you do. The tray clatters down with you.
When you come to, you are sitting on Din’s lap with a blanket around you, Kuna. It's dark now, fire going in front of you. Your head pounds against the cool metal of one of his pauldrons.
“Hey.” He mutters softly, unmodulated. No helmet anymore. “Scaring me again, that's your prerogative?"
You let out a weak mewl. Din gives you a soft scratch. You feel terrible.
“You’ve got a small fever. Can’t be mad at you when my girl’s sick…” He offers a piece of the now cooked fish to you. “Eat kitty, there we go. How you caught this thing while sick is beyond me.”
“Oh…” You eat the fish. It's good.
“Don’t worry. I gave you a stim, should help. And I didn't give Kuna back, since I hid him separately. Got him for you now though.” Din waves the floppy toy in front of you before setting it down in your lap.
You would be touched by his thoughtfulness if you weren't so confused. You found Kuna on your own earlier. But if he was hidden, what did you find?
Din feeds you another piece of fish before partaking in some himself. You eat quietly, too dizzy to ask questions.
“Y’know…I think I could use your help on this next job.” He says between comforting scritches. “When you’re better…I’ll tell you about it. Now I'm gonna lay you down before you throw up all over me.”
He rises, trying not to jostle you for the aforementioned reason. He slowly brings you to your fort with a soft kiss to the forehead. “We can stay here until you feel better.”
A/N- It might be finals week, but I sure as hell will be writing fan fiction. This time I thought a new friend would be nice.Not that these two past chapters have been my best work, imo. You lmk tho.
Im hoping I can rekindle some spark and find my footing and ideas easier sometime soon. Please give me feedback to help that along, if you can. Anyway, enjoy!
Ao3 link can be found here.
Word Count - 2.5k
Tatooine is a planet full of sand dunes, slavers and suns.
It's awful, to put it plainly. But that somehow makes it the favorite hideaway for lowlifes seeking to keep their distance from people like Din. If the raiders or hungry beasts don’t stop you first, the heat and sand might. They slow the pace down, at least.
Din left with clear instructions. Don’t leave the ship. And on some planets that is awfully difficult. But Tatooine isn’t one of them. Neither times you've been have you wanted to disobey that order.
He’s been gone about two weeks now. You’ve fallen back into your routine, eating, playing, napping, cleaning up the sand that somehow seeps its way into the ship like some kind of parasite. You’d think airlocked doors that keep the Crest from combusting or air from leaking out in space wouldn't allow sand in. And yet you just swept up your third pile just today. You think it's magic.
One afternoon, as you chase around your ball, a knock raps at the door. You think it's just the sound of your ball bouncing around the hull at first. But the knocking persists.
“Mando!” A woman’s voice calls out, accompanying the knocks.
Okay so maybe a little situational assessment is in order before you piss yourself.
Din does not want you to open the door for anyone. Why? Because Tatooine, lovely place as it is, is crawling with a wide spectrum of people who would want to kidnap you. Understandable reason.
But this person outside must know Mando. Friend or foe, they must know what his ship looks like, and they call him ‘Mando.’ And they don’t sound particularly unfriendly. They sound almost amused.
“Mando! I guess I will sit here until you get back from whatever snarlacc pit you're being digested in.” She says casually. So the stranger isn’t leaving.
You think you should open the door.
You grab a blaster you don't know how to use, just for good measure. You figure opening the door is worse than touching the weapon locker. You hesitantly tap the button, the hull door opening with a faint whirring noise, blaster behind your back. The woman stands up from lounging against a box in the hangar.
She has dark hair that's short on one side and arms that look like they can crush you just as easily as Din’s. She looks at you, quizzically.
“Oh. Sorry. I thought—”
“He isn't here right now...” You tell her, a little shy.
The woman straightens, a look of tickled disbelief crosses her strong face. “So this is Mando’s ship. Where is he then?”
“Working.” You say, not sure why else she thinks he would be in this dismal place.
“Right.”
“Who are you? How do you know him?” You ask.
“Long story.” She says cooly, giving a knowing look at the hand behind your back. “Don’t worry. I’m a friend. Cara Dune.”
You introduce yourself in turn, and throw the gun off to the side, out of her view. It falls in the corner, sliding across the hull with a thud. Your hair stands on end.
“Cara!?” Din comes stomping into the hangar, covered in sand and with a man over his shoulder. He glances at her before looking at you. You know he's staring daggers at you under the helmet. You curse under your breath at getting caught, sheepishly backing away from the door so he can drop off the bounty. “What the hell are you doing here.”
“My ship got unceremoniously impounded by some Jawas. I need a ride.” She says, hands on her belt, standing awkwardly by the ramp. “Not many people have a…what? ST-70?”
Din does not say anything, freezing the bounty and grabbing you. He tosses you in your fort, ignoring your meows. He then looks at Cara and waves her in, unclipping his rifle and putting it up on one of the boxes.
“So… you have a friend?” Cara strides up the ramp after him, making eye contact with you as you peer out of the fort.
“Sure. A friend.” Din says, then raises his voice. “Who will be dealt with later!”
Cara scoffs, watching Din. He crouches down and picks up the gun you threw from earlier, not before tripping on it. Shoving it in the weapon locker with a grunt, he and Cara climb up to the cockpit. After a little defeated grumbling, you and Kuna follow to eavesdrop.
“What are you doing on this shithole in the first place?” Din asks her, the Razor Crest departing from said sandy hell.
“I was tracking some scum for a private party. My ship, as I said, got scavenged because I parked it in one of the mountains and not a hangar.” Cara sighs, leaning back in the copilot's seat.
“You’re smarter than that…” Din scoffs.
“It was a piece of shit anyway…” Cara says. “But I thought it would be easier to lug the guy over…”
“Where is the bounty now?”
“Dead.”
Din nods in understanding. So this woman is a bounty hunter too? You stay down by the hatch, listening. You want to know how they know each other.
“So you’re still at it then?”
“And so are you.” Cara replies. “With a friend…gonna tell me about that?”
“Shes…” Din trails off, hands loosely on the console. “Uh.”
“Shes not a friend is she?”
“Not quite.” Din says nonchalantly, or at least an attempt at it.
“Well well, look at you.” Cara laughs. She shakes her head, covering her mouth. “I’d have a hard time saying no to a lothi too. You’re just a big softie…”
“Well unfortunately she doesn’t listen. So I have to say no. Otherwise she gets kidnapped by some Hutts. That's how I found her. In some fucked up cage, from one of my bounties. Couldn’t say no to that face when she didn’t want to leave me after that.” Din reminisces.
“Cute…” Cara chuckles. The ship glides along freely through space.
“Cute, yeah…” Din grumbles, getting up. “Till she puts herself in danger. Nothing but kitty noise in that brain of hers sometimes…”
You quickly slide down the ladder, sitting on the hull floor when he comes down behind you. You just look down at the floppy tooka in your hands when he comes and crouches down in front of you.
“What? Pouting? You know what you did…” He says, taking Kuna from you. “Tell me.”
Cara slides down and leans against the wall, watching with interest. It makes Din’s scolding more humiliating. “Well she's not a slaver I opened the door for! And you obviously know her!”
“Lothi. Tell me.” He asks, not amused by your attempts to explain.
“...I opened the door.” Your ears droop in shame. “And you said to not.”
“I did. Who was behind the door doesn’t matter.” He flicks your ear, standing up. “No toys till we get to the next job.”
You look up in disbelief. “What? No! She's your friend, and you got back a moment later! You can’t do that!”
“You agreed to the rules.” He says, unsympathetically, dropping Kuna to the floor. “Go round the rest up.”
“No! I was careful! I armed myself and everything! I thought it through, she clearly knew you!” You stand up.
“So that's why a blaster was on the floor…” Din says slowly, helmet staring you down. You shut up as you realize you've given yourself away. “Toys. Now. On the floor here, all of them.”
You are pissed, but listen. You collect all your toys and shamefully dump them in a pile with Kuna. You make embarrassed eye contact with Cara. She looks back with a compassionate and amused grin.
“You can keep one.” Din says. “One.”
“Kuna.”
“Not Kuna.”
‘Why?” You whine, a big hand firmly resting between your head shutting you up. Din tilts your head up to look at him.
“Because you don’t get to keep him, of all of them. And you should be smart and pick something you can chew, don’t you think?”
Din’s reasoning is good and makes you even more pissed off. You push him off you with a frustrated string of mewls, grabbing your chew rings and storming off to sulk in your fort. You suppose you deserve to be in trouble, but the other times you've been in trouble haven’t had you punished. Maker, you wanna bite him. Bite something.
The only toy you've been allotted will suffice until you can get to his fingers.
“Got a harsh regime here…” Cara says to Din as he puts your toys somewhere he knows you can’t get to.
“This is actually the first time I've done something like this..” He sighs wearily. “It's not the first time she's touched my weapons and opened the doors. The last incident involved a bug and a hole through my freezer.”
“Oh? What was the punishment last time?”
“She didn’t get one.” He replies. “But the honeymoon phase is over, she can’t be all cute to get out of things.”
“Aw.” Cara glances over to your fort. “Cold hearted…”
—
Cara sits down with you as you gnaw on a ration bar, taking a swing from a canteen she keeps on her hip. You have stopped for fuel, Din is busy arguing with a jittery mechanic droid outside. You cannot tell if he's just grumbling or haggling.
Din hasn’t actually spoken to you since leaving you to mope in the unfairness of your punishment. Cara has been keeping up with him until now.
“Really kicking his feet, huh?” Cara grins, stretching out. “I will say, I never expected him to quit the lone wolf act.”
“...How do you know him?” You ask sheepishly, twirling your rings in your hand. Something about Cara intimidates you. You feel shy around her. But you have never been good at understanding why immediately.
“We met on some backwater planet a while back. Found out how unpleasant beskar is to punch. We helped out a village with some defence. Fun times…” Cara smiles fondly. “He said he helped you out of a tough spot too.”
“Yes…”
“Hey…” She says softer, catching your unease. She speaks in a gentle tone, like the kind you would use on a scared child. Din must have elaborated on your meeting. “If you can be cozy with that wall of beskar and muscle, you don’t have to be spooked by me.”
“...Are you a bounty hunter too?”
“Im a mercenary. I do more private work. It's more…soldier work than what he does.” She tells you. “But it sometimes involves tracking people down.”
“Oh.”
“Mostly I end up mopping up ex-imperial warlords. Thankfully they are dwindling now.”
“Di–Mando…he brought back one of those once, I think.” You recall, right around the bug incident. “He chained him to the ladder, because a bug broke the freezer.”
Cara chuckles, taking a drink. “How does a bug break it? What kind of bug?”
“A big one, apparently.” Din comes back into the ship, carrying a small tank of something. “That somehow knew how to use a blaster.”
You feel your face flush at the reminder. A small surge of anger bubbles in your throat as Din doesn't look at you. You really would like to bite him…
“Good thing I'm not a bug then…” Cara grins.
Din makes a little modulated click, storing the tank in one of the floor hatches. “Shes a bad shot anyway.”
“Oi!” You frown, throwing your toy at him. Immediately after the rings leave your hand, you realise how stupid that was. They hit Din on the back and clatter down.
He slowly turns around, stepping over. Cara hides a look of amusement with another swig from her canteen. “Someones in a bad mood.”
Din grumbles something in Mando’a as he crouches down in front of you. Unamused and almost challenging, he says, “What.”
“Maybe you oughta teach her, Mando.” Cara says, watching you silently stare him down. “She should be able to defend herself.”
“Would you even listen?” Din asks. “Or just try and shoot me?”
His condescension just continues to anger you. Both of them, acting like you are some helpless, troublesome kid when all you did was open the hull with as much preparation as you could figure out at the time.
It's not your fault you don't know how to shoot. No one taught you. And from Din’s tone, he hasn’t the slightest desire to teach you.
You aren’t some kid to be punished, you aren’t unjust in your glaring. Maker, you didn’t know it was possible to get this angry. It's awfully embarrassing that your first meeting with Cara has you like this.
“Why don’t you have any faith in me?!” You burst out, ears drooping flat on your head.
“Because this is the second time you have done this, and I’m starting to think all that goes on up there is kitty noise.” Din taps your forehead enough to push you. “Dumb kitty noise…”
That's enough for you to lose yourself and pounce, your little canines sinking into the fleshy part between his thumb and pointer finger, through his glove. He grunts, shoving you off. Cara narrowly moves away as you land where she was, hitting your head on the metal wall.
In a daze, Din scoops you up with an unkind amount of force and throws you into your fort. He does offer the courtesy of your single toy, the rings thrown at him, which he in turn throws in with you. They hit you in the face, and before you can scream Din has pushed a storage box in front of the entrance.
“I promise this isn’t a great example of our relationship…” You hear Din tell Cara, muffled through your enclosure and your mewls of increasingly panicked protest. “Fuck, she drew blood.”
“Harsh, Mando.” Cara says, tone dry. “Bad day for everyone…”
“Shes just tired, needs a tantrum then she will knock herself out.” He replies, as if this has happened before. As if he has trapped you and baited you into anger like this before. “I hope. She's never done this before.”
“Sweet as can be, usually?” Cara chuckles.
“Usually.” You can hear him close the hull door. “Where did you say you needed a ride to?”
“Corellia.”
You are left to tire yourself out in your cozy prison, just like Din assumed. He's right, pathetically. As much as you would love to stew in your venom, pretending your toy is Din’s fingers as you clamp down, anger is awfully tiring.
Your exhaustion chokes up tears. Tears of betrayal at Din for turning Cara’s first impressions of you into you as a little disobedient brat, of the unfairness of it all. You wallow in self pity again, too. This whole day has turned to shit. And why?
Because you don’t know how to defend yourself. Din cannot appreciate you trying. And now you don’t even know how he sees you anymore. But you did try. And you do want to learn to shoot and you would listen.
If only he listens…
For now you gnaw your toy angrily until your teary eyes shut on you.
A/N- This chapter I wrote very sporadically and it's not my best work. I thought nothing happened when I was writing the ending, thinking this would be a rather lukewarm chapter.
Then I remembered what I had happen in the beginning.
I don't know if I made the best choice, but please PLEASE let me know what you think.
If I end up rewriting this chapter I'll let you know.
Anyway, enjoy! plz give feedback as always.
Ao3 link can be found here.
Word Count - 3.3k
Oh how you ache in the morning. You wake up slowly, probably around noon. Din isn’t beside you, but you aren’t surprised. He might be off hunting again, for all you know. But he must be tired too.
A large hand sliding through your hair tells you he’s home, even if you can’t see him, with you lying face down on the soft pillow.
“Sorry if I was hard on you…” He says, voice smooth and soft. He lets out a little sound of amusement when you mewl in reply. “Rest. I got you some bantha milk when you get up.”
You doze a while longer, the sweet bed enveloping you in its welcome clutches. When you do get up, slothful, eyes and ears at half mast, the sight of your bruised skin in the mirror is the first thing you see. Din clearly went to town. No wonder he sounded to be in a good mood. You think he needed that.
But if you meet anyone else today, Dins lovebites and prints might not be so appealing, so you put something on that more or less covers it all. Is appealing the word you would use?
Maybe.
It might be rough and hard, it might hurt, but that’s what Din is like. He made that clear when you joined him, even if harsh sex wasn’t anticipated in that package.
Maker, that feels like light years ago. Being in Komsun’s cage, awkwardly shuffling through Nevarro with Din for the first time, unsure of what was next. And now, you aren’t just clinging to the man, you have something. Reflecting on this nice week in Naboo, you could even say it was like your honeymoon.
You are his. You like that. Being marked up is appealing. Wearing his clan symbol around your neck is appealing. So much has happened the past few days to make you two official.
You wander out to the kitchen, the promise of bantha cream leading your aching legs. You emerge from your room with a yawn that is promptly cut off.
There's a man in the kitchen.
You both stare at each other. He looks spooked, giving you an attempted downturned smile. It's more of an awkward hello than a smile. Your heart jumps the kind of way it might when you realize you’ve left something awfully important somewhere you can never return to.
“I thought…this might make it easier.” He says in that soft baritone. “I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”
You stare at him, heart leaping into your throat and choking any words. Any thoughts for that matter. The man before you, so anticipated. Dark, soft curls, deep brown eyes looking into yours for the first time, filling you with warmth and terror alike. But he looks more terrified than you. Like a porg in headlights.
Silence is one of Din’s strong suits. He easily ignores any awkward silence, existing comfortably inside it, fostering it. And yet he looks now like he wants to speak and is working his way through the possible words. He looks uncomfortable with your silence.
Maybe that’s how he always is under the helmet, but you doubt it. This is new for him. And you can tell.
“I— um.” You attempt. He looks good. Better than you expected. Not that you expected him to look bad, its just you didn’t want to get hung up on him looking a certain way. “Din…?”
“I’m right here. Just— just—…” He trails off, approaching you. You step back a little, brain still processing. “Cyare. I’m sorry— I thought it was a good idea. I know it was sudden. I just didn’t want some slow, grand reveal!”
You don’t know if you've ever seen a grown man look so awkward. He looks very uncomfortable and you feel terrible. “It's okay, no I just would have liked some warning!”
“I told you last night!” His hand clasps the counter next to him, shoulders taut. The air in the room suddenly feels thick.
“I didn’t realize you actually meant it!” Your ears droop.
“Of course I meant it! I always mean it, sweetheart. I mean this!” Din says sharply, gesturing between the two of you as he stalks over. “I know I'm not the most obvious person in the galaxy, but I think I have been pretty damn clear!”
Before you can reply Din grabs you by the back of the head in one swift motion, forcing a kiss onto you as he hoists you easily up into his arms. You yelp, getting carried to the couch. “C’mere you stupid furball.”
You whimper, but not in fear this time. But because being in his arms reassures you that it’s him, not just some random man in your kitchen. Your husband. That's his face, he has a face other than the helmet. And he has just shared a part of himself that's so exclusive, so personal.
To little ‘ol you of all people.
Din sits down with you in his lap, exhaling through his mouth. He slowly takes your hand in his. “I'm sorry… I'm not snapping at you, just–...”
“It's okay.”
“No one has seen my face in over 20 years…” He says somewhat distantly, head down to look at your intertwined fingers. “Not since I was a child. I don’t…know…how to do this.”
“Really? That long? No one has ever seen your adult face?”
“No. Besides me. And I don’t look in the mirror all that much anyway.” He admits, looking up at you. “So…?”
You look into his eyes for a moment, hand going to his cheek. He grimaces as you poke at him, but allows it. When you first met Din, you reflected on what you thought of him. You came to the conclusion that, under the helmet, he couldn’t be all that scary. No man that’ll go out of his way to pet you can be scary.
There's a soft kindness lingering in his eyes. Perhaps it's only for you. But for a hunter, a killer, he looks awfully gentle when he tries. His hair is messy, you doubt it ever is neat. Light facial hair, a few stray greys starting to work their way in. It suits him.
You are almost tempted to call him cute. As if his chest and arms aren’t rock hard with muscle against you, even without the armor. But out of the armor, all he is to you is soft and caring with those warm eyes and hands…
“I think you look perfect.” You giggle, kissing him. It's nice to kiss him freely. Really nice. “Cute.”
He actually chuckles at that. An actual laugh, not just an amused scoff. And smiles! Its almost boyish, the grin.
“I think you have me beat in the cute department, Cyare…” He gives your ear a playful little tug.
“So. How does it feel…?” You press. “Being…looked at.”
“Uncomfortable.”
“I can tell. Your facial expressions are all funny.” You giggle. “Odd…”
Din gives a small scoff, kissing your head. You nuzzle into the crook of his neck. But before you can fully settle down, someone rings your doorbell. Din immediately looks more spooked than he already was.
“Oh, I’ll get it.” You hop up and scamper over to the door. But you suddenly remember Din’s vulnerability, turning around with your hand on the door. But he is gone.
Opening the door, you see that it's Roy.
“Hi, Roy…” You greet, feeling a little weird about it after yesterday.
“Hi, honey. Can I– I come in?” He smiles awkwardly in the way old men sometimes do. You let him in, sitting down on the couch. “Listen I just wanna ap–apologize for yesterday. I don’t want you to think I'm some…overbearing old coot…”
“It's okay. I know you mean well.” You smile a little, as if Din’s marks aren’t hidden under your clothes. “And that…Mando isn’t exactly what you’d expect…”
As if on cue, Din comes out of your room, helmet on. Roy slowly rises when he sees him, extending a hand. “M-Mando…? UH, Roy. Im–”
“I know…” Din says, shaking his hand.
“I was just um, coming over to apologize for yesterday. To you, as well.” Roy rubs his hands nervously. “I guess I just…worry. I never, ever want to talk about some–someone behind their back. You– erm…”
“Roy, it's okay.” You touch his hand. He smiles a little, shrugging awkwardly. Din stands behind the couch, giving you a little ear scratch.
“So, you wanna come…help me out in the bakery?” He asks nervously.
You look up at Din, blushing. “I think we are leaving soon, actually…”
“Oh.”
“She can help you out whenever she's back in town. I’ll probably leave her here if I know I’ll have trouble.” Din says, backing away. “As long as you don’t upset her again.”
“Wouldn’t d-dream of it!” Roy chuckles nervously. You can't help but shoot Din a look. “When are you leaving?”
“Later today or tomorrow.” Din says, the both of them looking at you for confirmation. You just nod.
“Well…before you go, come say goodbye, will you?” Roy pats your head. “Ill pack you up something sweet to take with you.”
You hug him, startling the old man. He pats you a little more before you pull away, letting him rise. You walk him to the door, glancing at Din looming in the kitchen.
“Thanks Roy, bye bye.” You hug him one last time at the door. Once he is gone you turn back to Din. “I feel better.”
“How long do you need to get ready?” Din asks, leaning back against the counter.
“I didn’t realize we were going so soon…”
“I told you, I need to get back to work.” He says. “Fuel isn’t cheap.”
“I guess you did…Kind of. I just thought we would take our time!” You say, calculating the time it might take to figure out what you need and pack it up. Din grabs the cloth bag you have been keeping things in and follows you into your room. “Gimme like…an hour.”
“You don’t need much.” He says simply, glancing over your toys, as well as Kuna on your bed. You glance over at your things. It's a shame to part with them again, but there's only so much space on the ship.
“Why don’t you pick them out, and I will get my clothes?” You suggest, pointing Din to your toys. He grabs Kuna and your colorful rings, along with something new.
“No, not that one!” You stop him as he goes to pick up the Naboo Queen, grabbing his wrist so he puts the doll down. You pick out a furry bantha plush and a ball.
Din scoffs. “If you don’t want my suggestions, don’t give me the job.”
“Shes too nice to be shoved in a corner of the Crest…” You defend, grabbing some clothes. “Do you think these will be enough?”
“Plenty.”
You stuff your things in the bag, pondering Kuna and your rings for a moment before looping the rings over your wrist and making sure your floppy companion is tucked safely between your clothes.
The helmet looks down at you, a big hand rubbing your head. “Actin’ all motherly to that thing…”
“Would you rather I throw him across the floor? I have to take care of him after paying my hard earned money for him.” You look up at Din, nose scrunched. But a stray giggle escapes you. “Had to marry you.”
He just scoffs, pulling the bag over his shoulder. You quickly straighten your bed, the kitchen and living room, and make sure things are at least a little orderly. Usually you might not have bothered, but this is your home now. And you are going to take care of it as best as you can.
But the Razor Crest, your other home, calls.
“Ready?” Din asks, holding everything by the door.
“I guess.”
“Don’t worry, we can come back.”
“Oh! So soon?” Roy perks up behind the counter. He grabs a box and starts shuffling around as he fills it with a variety of the bakery’s goods. “Sorry I just–”
“Its okay.” You elbow Din, which does nothing but hurt your elbow. “No rush.”
“I am just– so– so happy you are safe…” Roy comes around and hands you a hug and the box of treats. Then he stands, looking up at Din. He taps an accusatory finger quite sheepishly on his pauldron. “You better make sure she stays that way.”
“If someone gives her trouble, they won’t be able to run from me.” He says dryly.
“Good man.” Roy chuckles. “You be good now!”
“Bye Roy. And thank you. Don’t look so blue, I’ll be back..” You say.
“Till next time.”
Din leads you to the ship, parked in a different hangar than you arrived in. A few stray missing posters adhered to the walls get torn down as you pass them. Oddly enough, you are actually excited to be back on the ship. The little space grew on you.
A proper bed you will mourn though.
Din lowers the ramp, dropping the bag down by your fort. He goes out again to talk to an attendant. You assume its about fuel, since he shoos off two mech droids that come over eagerly with fuel hoses.
While he does that you pile your clothes in the far end of your fort, organizing your toys neatly against the wall. When you fold up the bag, Din’s new blaster falls to the floor with a great thud. It makes you jump, hair standing up and tail rigid behind you.
You carefully pick it up and drop it up on a storage box where he will see it. Its better than the floor, anyway.
“We’re gonna top off, then meet Karga.” Din steps up into the cockpit, catching the blaster in his peripheral. He stuffs it in his holster, opening the locker to put his old one carefully on the wall.
As you watch him move about the hull, eventually migrating back down to the hangar, you remember earlier. You have not had time to properly freak out over his face, so the poor bantha toy gets impaled by your eager teeth as you squeal in your fort. Good. Now thats done.
Hopefully he will take it off again soon. You don’t think you are in a spot to demand it yet. Yet…
After demolishing the treats on the ship, you are not that hungry for your normal cantina meal on Nevarro. In approximately two weeks, when you are tired of ration bars and bland soup you might regret not getting something substantial. But you have just come off the high of home cooked meals, so for now you think it's okay. You take the credits Din gives you, going to the bar for Bantha cream at the very least.
Across the bar, Din sits with Greef Karga to conduct usual business.
“Still got your little friend, I'm impressed!” Karga chuckles, glancing over at you sat on a barstool. “Its been a while, I thought this lot wasn’t going to give you trouble…”
“They didn’t.”
“Oh you had a Coruscaunt in here, hm?” Karga mutters, looking through the pucks.
“He’s in a bad way. Careful when you unfreeze him.” Din says cooly.
“So you did get into trouble.” Karga glances back over to you. “Really I don’t get you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I guess not. It's just not everyday you see a Lothi.” Karga shrugs, pouring himself some spotchka from the pitcher at the table. “And especially not with a Mandalorian.”
“Working on…work, life balance.” Din says with a small tilt of his helmet. Karga starts to chuckle especially hard.
While they chatted, you mustered up the courage to come over to the table. You've never met Din’s associate, despite seeing him regularly when Din comes to collect.
“Well hello there little lady!” Karga smiles big, chuckling like he's amused.
“Hi!”
“Lothi, go sit back down.” Din says firmly. You know he isn't suggesting, but you take it as a suggestion anyway and slide into the booth next to him.
“She's fine…” Karga brushes him off. “Im Karga, also known as the Nevarro Guild Master. The guy your fine Mando here reports to. But I don’t recall any puck with a face as cute as you…”
“Just give me the credits, Karga.” Din says sharply.
“Fine, fine! I’m just teasing.” Karga tosses him the payment with a soft thud and looks back at you with a friendly grin. “Is he always this grumpy?”
“Just sometimes.” You tell him, cracking open one of the jugs of the blue liquid gold in your lap.
“Come on.” Din nudges you out of the booth. “Time to go.”
“Bye!” You get up, waving to Karga who waves back.
Din grumbles something, shoving you to the door. Once outside he takes the jugs from you and unceremoniously tosses you over his shoulder, some of your bantha cream spilling onto the ashy street.
“Hey!”
“Shut up.”
You shut up for a moment, trying not to spill anymore milk. But then you get pissed at him for telling you to shut up, because no, he can’t tell you that. So you kick him in the beskar covered ribs. “Dont tell me to shut up!”
Din’s long strides stop suddenly and he puts you down firmly, milk spilling on you from the impact. He drops the jugs he was carrying for you, throws them more like, and then goes to grab you again. Covered in milk, jug now basically empty, you drop it and start to run.
You don’t know why. But something in his slow, hard steps towards you freaked you out enough to bolt. Probably because you know you are in trouble, even if you think kicking him was justified. You wish you could go back to Karga because yes, he is always that grumpy.
You are quick. Quicker than you think Din was expecting because he doesn’t immediately take off after you. You don’t know where you are trying to run to, ducking under a couple pairs of legs and doing a loop around Nevarro and back towards the ship. You figure he will catch you eventually anyway, so you admit defeat once you reach it.
Din is not far behind you, slamming his arms against the ship and blocking you against the side. “You done?”
“Don’t tell me to shut up.” You pant, trying to catch your breath. The blue stains on your clothes mock the loss of the coveted milk.
Din doesn’t reply, guiding you into the ship by the top of the head. He pushes you towards your fort and closes the hull, climbing up the ladder to the cockpit.
You figure you'll leave him alone, the both of you stewing away by yourselves…
—
A big hand shaking in front of your face wakes you from a dull sleep. Din is holding something out for you. You sit up and scoot out to follow whatever it is.
“Treat.” He says softly. He is just outside the fort, sat on the hull floor. He lured you into his lap, offering a little piece of jerky to you. You take it.
He scratches your ears slowly, hands and face bare for you again. “Ill get you some more bantha cream on the next stop…”
You look up at him, admiring his unfamiliar face once again. It hasn’t changed at all. He doesn’t apologize for earlier, just gives your ears a good rub while you chew at his peace offering.
Din kisses your head, and that's enough of an apology. You just hope you’ll get some more bantha cream like he says.