Sep 20, 2021
a return to mos pelgo
for dincobb week day 2: hurt/comfort
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a return to mos pelgo
for dincobb week day 2: hurt/comfort
Day 5: Sharing Culture
Then Cobb gave Din more reasons to back to Mos Pelgo. End
DinCobb Week Day 5: Sharing Cultures (SFW)
for @dincobbweek with a wedding!!
@astrangebird drew some fantastic art and i decided to write a piece about it. that’s that. that’s all of it.
AO3 Link
Wait For Me Here
“We should get married,” Din idly said one day when they were in bed, side by side to wait out the worst of the day’s heat.”
“Oh yeah?” Cobb asks. He’s on his stomach, pillowed on his arms. Din knows this without even having to look because he knows Cobb likes sleeping on his front, usually one leg tucked up a bit, sometimes one arm stretched out for Din as if he’s reaching for him in sleep.
“Think about it. We live together.”
“Mm.”
“We cook together.”
“Mmhm.”
“We fight together.”
“Mm.”
“And we have a child together.”
Cobb snorts. “Sharing custody of your child with a Jedi might be putting it a bit generous.”
“There are also the school kids.”
“’cause half the time I have to tell them not to get into shit they shouldn’t.”
“Still.”
“Still,” Cobb says and breathes in. Then he opens his eyes and Din turns on his side to face him. “Marriage, huh?”
“Mmhm. Unless if . . .”
“Unless?”
“I don’t know what marriage customs are like on Tatooine, and the ones I’ve been invited to were Tusken in nature.”
“Well, shoot, partner, I reckon we go just as hard with our wedding flair as them Tuskens do.”
“Is that so?”
Cobb nods tiredly against his arms and closes his eyes. “Two-day affair most of the time. Eat and drink late into the night, sleep a few hours, and then get up in the morning for the breakfast feast. Everyone comes out with everything. Real big community thing as well.”
“I, I might like to see that.”
“What about you Mandalorians though?” Cobb then shifts suddenly, rising up long enough to lie himself across Din’s chest and hold him close with a leg in between Din’s. “I know you’ve . . . I know it’s not easy for you.”
Din sighs. The fallout from the survivors of his clan is still fresh. At least they didn’t strip him of his armour, but he doesn’t think they see him as Mandalorian anymore. He saw to their relocation on Tatooine with Boba Fett’s help, and finally they can live without the fear of being seen or being caught. But they will not accept Din as one of their own, not anymore, not after he gave up the Darksaber, allowed his face to be seen, and nearly broke every Creed he had taken on as a young adult.
“Well, the weddings were mostly, they were short,” Din admits. “Usually it requires an exchange, especially if one member were coming from a different clan.”
“An exchange of what?”
“Equipment. Weapons or armour. I once saw someone approach the Armourer to ask her how to show them to make a knife for their betrothed. It’s meant to be personal to a degree. Either you got this weapon in battle or you’re offering up a piece of yourself, your beskar’gam.”
Cobb hums. “Sounds very official.”
“Marriage is a pact. You raise warriors. You grow the clan. You protect the clan.”
“Mm. I can work with that.”
Din smiles. “You’re a very agreeable partner.”
“I try.”
…
What starts out as a simple comment quickly turns into nearly a town wide event. Neither Din nor Cobb know how the secret got out. They were thinking, originally, a small affair with their closest associates. Boba is even willing to host at his palace, and Din is fine with that. But then word gets out, as it always does, that the Marshal and the Mandalorian are planning to get married, and now here they are, eating breakfast at Werlo’s cantina, getting approached by one of the mothers in town who’s there after dropping her kids off at the school, no doubt, casually talking like Din and Cobb know what’s going on.
“Marshal! Have you decided on a date yet?”
Cobb blinks and looks to Din before looking at the woman. “Excuse me?”
“For the wedding! Gaia said you and the Mandalorian were planning to marry.”
Din chokes on his caf.
“Um, well.” Cobb reaches out to pat Din’s hand. “We were planning a small ceremony.”
“Nonsense! I know you’re both busy men. We can handle all the logistics for you. All you and your fiancé need to do is show up to the day!”
“Well, Lee, thank you for the offer,” Cobb says, and Din can see he’s trying to be polite about it, but Din knows Cobb has a hard time turning down any of the favours the townspeople show him.
“It’s my pleasure, Marshal. It’s been some time since we’ve had cause to celebrate! We’ll be in touch!”
“Yeah, Lee. See you.”
Once she’s gone, Cobb looks to Din, and Din tries to smother his smile behind his hand.
“Hey, this is your town too,” Cobb says.
“I know. I guess a small ceremony is no longer in the works.”
“They were going to find out one way or another.”
…
From how Cobb explained it, Din thought he had a good idea of what entailed a Tatooine wedding from the settler-slave population. Good food, good drinks, good company.
“Have you thought about a house yet?”
Din looks to Jo as he’s elbow deep in a speeder. “What?”
“You know,” she says like Din should know. “A house.”
“Why would I—”
“Oh. You don’t know. Right.” She pops her lips. “It’s a Tatooine thing. ‘specially for freed slaves and poor settlers. It’s a thing of pride to be able to provide a place like a home. I know my dad worked hard to get an apartment for me and my ma while he also worked to get our manumission. Tiny one bedroom place ‘til I moved out here. But he was very proud of that place when he had it. Point is—what are you bringing to the table, Din?”
Din blinks and reaches for a towel to wipe sweat from his brow. “I hadn’t thought of anything.”
“Let me give you the one up ‘cause I know the Marshal won’t be asking’ for it himself.” She slides down from her perch on a workbench to lean over the speeder. “Man needs himself a proper house. And I’m talking a proper house. Most of the buildings here are temporary. They’re not built for long term which is why they require so much maintenance. Houses underground are the way to be. They take a while, sure, but when you’ve got a village.”
He frowns. “I thought that was for raising children.”
“Villages are for everything here, Din. If you want to give him something good, really show you love him, come find me when you’ve got free time. I’m pretty sure I can help you out with that issue.”
She then leaves and Din tries to return to his work at hand, but he’s stuck on the thought of a house. Of building a house for him and Cobb and for Grogu when he and his Jedi visit. Where they can host friends and not feel too crammed in Cobb’s home as it is. Where they can actually bring their lives and interests together in one shared space. A shared unit.
Cobb enters the garage looking like he’s dressed up to head into town, and Din stands to greet him. “Hey, darlin’!” He kisses Din on the cheek. Din wrinkles his nose.
“I’m dirty.”
“We’ve been worse to each other. Now. I’m headin’ into town for a bit. Told Jo to hold down the fort and you’re here for back up.”
Din nods. “You don’t want me coming with you?”
“Baby, I know you don’t like to travel to Mos Eisley. Take it easy. I’ll be back shortly after dinner.”
“Okay.”
He helps Cobb push out his speeder onto the main street of Mos Pelgo and kisses him once more before Cobb pulls his scarf up over his mouth and nose and pulls his goggles down over his eyes and offers Din a two fingered salute and then he’s off.
Din trudges down the street towards where Jo is leaning against the wall of the cantina. “So. A house.”
She nods. “Come on. Let’s talk logistics.”
…
In what they originally wanted to be a quick and short wedding turns into a several month-long affair as Mos Pelgo comes out in spades to support their Marshal and Mandalorian in tying the knot. They plan for food and for drinks. They send out invites to the local Tuskens, who also seem enthused that Din is getting married. They think it a good match, and well, at least Din has their approval.
The building of the Marshal’s new house is quietly under wraps. All Cobb knows is that a new house is being built, but he thinks it for one of the families in town, even comes by to watch Din at work in the staked-out pit, helping to dig down and remove sand until they come to the more compacted ground that they can put stabilizers against and hold in place before they’re pouring the plaster and concrete for the walls.
Whenever Din has a spare moment, he plans with Jo for the interior. A nice open kitchen. A large room for the both of them with an en-suite bathroom. There is not only one guest room but two. One that will largely be Grogu’s when he’s here to stay, and also one for the Jedi if he plans on staying the night. Sometimes he does.
Then there’s the living room, circular in design that could hold a dozen people comfortably, and knowing Cobb, he’ll like the opportunity to entertain more. Din thinks it’s perfect, and he finds as he puts the work into making a home, he realizes he’s looking forward to it not just for Cobb’s promised happiness, but also his own. He can’t remember the last time he’s actually had a proper home like this. Not since Aq Vetina anyway.
“You’re in a good mood,” Cobb says that night when they’re finishing the dishes after dinner.
Din shrugs. “Just happy I guess.”
“Good.” Cobb kisses him quickly on the cheek. “You deserve to be.”
…
One of the next steps for the wedding is the clothes themselves. For Cobb it means he’s getting a robe made for himself. White, flowing fabric with a fancy gold trim around the hems. It’s a standard piece of Tatooine marriages, and Din feels himself sort of bereft that he doesn’t have something similar.
So he plans a visit to Boba’s because they have a shared lineage, and Din can’t exactly walk up to where his old tribe is and ask, “Can any of you help me dress for my wedding? Even though you see me as dar’manda and probably wouldn’t accept my marriage to an outsider?”
Best not to think of it.
He rides with Cobb to the palace, but Cobb isn’t planning on staying.
“I got business in town,” he says. “Might be a while. You okay staying here tonight?”
“Of course.”
“’kay. Kiss.”
He tilts up for Din to lean down and kiss him before waving him off. Then Din heads towards the palace and is let in by the guards.
It’s one of Boba’s work days, meaning he’s not seeing court, which means he’s pouring drinks for him, Fennec, and Din to enjoy. He always serves the strong stuff, which makes Din’s throat burn, but he’s getting used to it.
“So how is it anyway?” Boba asks, reclined on one of the sofa’s where Fennec can press her feet against his thigh.
“Going well,” Din says, keeping his eyes on the dark liquor in his glass. “The house is coming along.”
“You still haven’t told him yet?” Fennec asks.
Din shakes his head. “I want to keep it a surprise for him.”
“Sounds like you got it bad.”
“And you don’t?”
Fennec chuckles and Boba smiles amusedly.
“Fennec’s not exactly my queen here,” Boba says.
“That’s right. I’m an empress.”
“Still. A house sounds like a good idea. Putting down roots. Settling in.”
“It’s about time,” Din says, taking a sip. He smacks his lips. “But it’s getting close to the day and . . . the seamstress offered to tailor me something, but I was hoping for something more—”
“Familiar?” Boba offers. Din nods.
“I think you can help with that,” Fennec says. “Despite what he might say, Boba’s become a real fashion snob.”
“It’s not fashion when you have to wear it to impress people who won’t take you seriously otherwise. The battle armour doesn’t always work.”
“Sure,” she says. “We’ll go with that.”
“I’ll see what I got.”
They eventually move to Boba and Fennec’s shared private quarters where Din can examine the clothing in front of a mirror.
“If you’re looking for something more Mandalorian,” Boba says from within his closet. “I’d suggest the lavalava. Especially if you’re aiming for tradition.”
“Bring out the blue one if you have it,” Fennec says.
Boba returns holding what Din first sees as a skirt, but recognizes the design of it when he was first living in the Fighting Corps’ barracks as a child. It’s meant to be a more formal piece of Mandalorian wear for more casual settings if one didn’t want to dress up in full battle armour. It’s meant to just sit on the hips.
Boba gets him to try it on right there. “You’d probably just wear a light pair of leggings underneath,” he says.
“Oh, and then,” Fennec says, rising to her feet and entering the closet. She returns with a lighter blue cloak and a red sash. “Tie it off with this sash here.” She wraps it around his waist. “And then the cloak like this.” She lets it sit on one shoulder and brings the two ends together to pin at his other shoulder. “You know, I might have a broach that could fit this. Din, hold this for me. I’ll be right back.”
He does as he’s told and looks at himself in the mirror.
“Not bad,” Boba says. “Colour suits you.”
Din turns a bit to admire himself in the mirror. He looks at Boba in the reflection and asks, with his stomach fluttering, “Have you spoken to the clan?”
“Oh, uh, yeah. Last week I think.”
Din hums.
“They’ve settled in just fine. Getting along with the Tuskens just fine, but seems like they got more in common than they do the settlers.”
Din nods. “I had a feeling they would.”
“Have you . . .”
“Not since they relocated.”
Boba hums.
“Here we go,” Fennec says, coming back into the room with a silver brooch—in the shape of a Mythosaur skull.
“I didn’t know you had that, cyar,” Boba says.
“It was a gift from a long time ago. Guy who gave it to me certainly wasn’t Mandalorian, but I think it’s best to return it to someone it should actually belong to.” She fixes the brooch to the cloak and then turns Din to face the mirror directly. “There. Now you look ready to get married.”
Din runs his fingers through his hair. He might want to get it cut before the wedding, but he knows Cobb likes it when it’s longer and it holds its waves more. He should at least shave. The uneven scruff on his jaw isn’t all that appealing to himself.
“Stars, it’s going to be a mad house on the day of,” Boba says. “Seems like we’ll have to bring the good stuff, Fennec.”
“You’re telling me.”
…
In the days leading up to the wedding, Din sees to the final touches of the house, ensuring the furniture is in place with room for more when they make the final move. He plans on surprising Cobb that day.
They have a good celebration the night before at the cantina, drinks on the house, and then, in Tatooine fashion, the couple are separated the night before. Din is headed off by Boba and Fennec to Din’s new house, and Cobb is dragged away by his deputy Jo to his house.
“Rest up, vod,” Boba says. “You got a long day ahead of you.”
The next morning, Fennec helps him get ready for the day, making sure his hair is just right, and the cloak is sitting on his shoulders just so. Boba is there in his armour, and Din feels a sour note in his stomach that he’s not wearing any of his. He wouldn’t feel right after his expulsion from the clan.
“You still want the Mandalorian vows?” Boba asks.
Din nods. “If you can.”
“I’d be honored, vod.”
And then he’s led out with his friends on either side of him down the main street with everyone and then some—Tuskens, out of town friends, some of Boba’s closer associates—have come out in full force down the street as it’s been fully decorated for the day.
The ceremony itself is held at one end of the town where an arch of bone from bantha horns has been carved as a gift from the Tuskens. And that’s when Din sees him—Cobb, dressed in white with gold trim and with the hood up over his head, a red sash at his waist as if to match Din’s without even knowing. His back remains turned as Din walks up the aisle towards the arch and then he’s standing next to Cobb, shoulder to shoulder, with Cobb’s lifelong friend and impromptu wedding officiator Issa-Or standing before them. Din keeps his eyes forward for now, waiting for the right moment to face his soon-to-be husband head on.
“Now, I know ya’ll have come out and taken time off of your busy schedules,” Issa-Or says. “And we don’t have much time to dilly-dally like they did in the nicer districts in Mos Eisley and the rest. Time wasn’t a luxury for people like us, so we had to make do. Which is why we’re here to see that Cobb Vanth, Marshal here in Mos Pelgo, spends the rest of his days married to none other than a Mandalorian! Someone he chose to let into his life, his home, and share the rest of his time in this mortal coil with.”
Din feels himself blushing, feels a smile breaking out over his face.
“Cobb?”
He sees Cobb lift his head.
“Why don’t you take a look at your man?”
He feels Cobb reach for his hand and Din gently turns with a little prodding. And as he turns, he sees Cobb pushing back his hood, and Din feels as if he could cry at the sight of him.
He sees Cobb’s lower lip tremble before he smiles, as bright as Tatooine’s suns themselves. “Din.” Cobb lifts Din’s hand and holds it between both of his own. Then Cobb laughs despite himself. “First time I’ve been without words in a while.”
There are a few laughs among the crowd.
“Darling, my love. First day I laid eyes on you, I knew I couldn’t let you go. And I am a richer man for having you. Even if I don’t got much but my name and my reputation and the good will of the people before us, I hope to give you everything you could ever need.” Then he raises Din’s hand and kisses the back of it tenderly.
“At this point, we’d say a done deal and have a feast,” Issa-Or says. “But as it is, Din is a Mandalorian, and we want to respect that part of him, so he comes with his own vows.”
She steps aside to let Boba come up.
“If you’ll both repeat after me,” he says. “We are one together.”
“Mhi solus tome,” Din says, quietly, only enough for Cobb and Boba to really hear.
He watches Cobb smiles, the pink curl of his tongue before he’s repeating in Basic. “We are one together.
“We are one when parted.”
“Mhi solus dhar’tome.”
“We are one when parted.”
“We share all.”
“Mhi me’dinui an.”
“We share all.”
“We shall raise warriors.”
“Mhi ba’juri verde.”
“We shall raise warriors.”
“Oya, vod,” Boba mutters.
And Din finds himself feeling bashful, and that’s when Cobb pulls him closer by his hands.
“Now I consider that we’re well and truly hitched now,” he says, and Din rushes in to cup his face and kiss his riduur in front of an adoring and loving crowd.
…
The rest of the day is pretty much a blur of being at Cobb’s side, being dragged away from Cobb, of Cobb being dragged away from him. Dance until his feet ache and he’s dizzy. More food than he’s used to. More drinks than he can tolerate, and falling asleep in a tent when he’s imbued too much with a pink cheeked Cobb next to him.
A few hours of sleep later and they’re back at it again for a more restful filled breakfast and relaxed conversation before finally, the festivities are over and people begin to head back to their business.
“Do you want to go home?” Din asks.
Cobb stretches and yawns, looking exhausted but content with his station in life. “You have read my mind.”
They walk down the street together, their clothes in a state of disarray before Din is leading him elsewhere.
“Babe, where . . .” Then it dawns on him and Din can’t help but smile. “No,” he says.
Din nods. “Come on. Let me show you to our home.”
Cobb is speechless when they enter the new partially buried house. He’s taken by how large it is, how high the ceilings are now, and how cool and inviting it is. Then he rushes forward to kiss Din and hold him close. “Oh, you are full of surprises.”
“Jo told me it’s a custom.”
“Well, not always a custom, but we pride ourselves on being able to provide.”
“Then let me provide for you.”
They kiss again, deeper this time until Cobb pulls back to rest their foreheads together. “Mm. As much as I’d like to christen this place, I’m bushwhacked.” Then he’s pulling Din into the bedroom where they collapse onto the bed as husbands, as riduurs.
…
“Hey, Din. You awake?”
Din stretches out on the bed and opens weary eyes to find Cobb kneeling on the ground next to the bed.
“What time’s it?” he asks.
“Afternoon-ish. Just went out to get some things from the old place, and, um, I guess now is as good a time as any to give this to you.” He sets a bundle of cloth knotted off with string on the bed before Din, and Din rises up on one elbow to look at it.
“You didn’t have to get me anything,” Din says, tugging at the strings.
“Yeah, well.” Cobb rubs the back of his neck, a nervous tic of his. “I felt like I had to for this one.”
In the cloth is an ornate dagger with its own leather sheath. When Din pulls the blade, he’s mesmerized with how the blade shimmers. A single piece that looks like it’s been carved from onyx.
“Cobb, I—” Then he sees the mark in the hilt of it.
The mark of his tribe. The Mythosaur skull. On the other side is the mark of the mudhorn.
He looks up to Cobb. “Where did you get this?”
“Well, I, I went to your clan.”
Din breathes out and sits up in full with the dagger in his lap. Cobb comes to sit on the edge of the bed.
“When you told me about your customs, and seeing your armour just sitting in our wardrobe for months, I wanted, I wanted to confront your clan. I know things are rocky between you and them, but I went in there to just speak with them at first. Then next thing I know, I’m sitting on the ground drinking tea with your matriarch.”
Din closes his eyes for a moment.
“And I don’t tell her everything, I don’t ream her out or nothing. I know you hold her in high regard. But I told her I was intending on marrying you and I wanted to do it right by you. No one else. So, she said she’d show me how to make something. And each time I visited, she’d ask about you and I’d tell her that, oh, you were a guest speaker in the school today, or you had fixed the power generators. And she’d tell me my smithy skills were shit and tell me to begin again.”
Din laughs. “Yeah, that sounds like her.”
“Then she asked me why I wanted to marry you. And I told her I wanted to spend the rest of my days making you happy, giving you everything you could ever need. And she said, he deserves it.”
He lifts his head to look at Cobb. “She said that?”
Cobb nods. “I think she misses you. She won’t say it, but she does. I think it’s just taking some time for her and some of the others to come around to this new world order of theirs. But next time I go, I want you to come with me.”
Din nods. “Yes. Yes, I’d love that. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He kisses Cobb several times and holds him close with the knife on the bed spread next to him.
They don’t plan the trip out to Din’s clan for some weeks yet. They have a house to settle into after all. But then one day, they’re setting out on Cobb’s speeder. This time Din is wearing his armour with the knife at his hip. And this time they are facing Din’s clan together as one.
DinCobb Week Themes
We’re happy to announce the themes for DinCobb Week 2021! NSFW themes will be placed under the cut.
Day 1 - Clan of Three
Day 2 - Hurt/Comfort
Day 3 - New Experiences
Day 4 - AU / Freebie Day
Day 5 - Sharing Culture
Day 6 - Water
Day 7 - Alternate First Meeting
Reminder that the week takes place from September 19th - 25th! We can’t wait to see what you guys create from this. Feel free to reach out in our inbox or on discord if you have any questions.
NSFW Themes
Day 1 - Praise
Day 2 - Discovering Kinks
Day 3 - Blindfolds
Day 4 - Emotional
Day 5 - Clothing (lace/armor/lingerie)
Day 6 - Quiet
Day 7 - Sensory Play
DinCobb Week Day 1 - Clan of Three
The soft wail stirred the whole house.
Din’s eyes forced themselves open, blinking against the dim light, and for a moment he was utterly disoriented. It took another moment for the sound of a crying child to register, and then the arms that were wrapped tight around his waist. A soft and wakeful sound came by his ear as Cobb shifted. Then the arms tightened further and a scratchy beard pressed to the back of his shoulder.
“Mmmph.”
“Need ‘t… up,” Din muttered, his voice hoarse from sleep. He pried Cobb’s arm off from his waist and pushed up, then batted back the sleepy attempts at getting him back. “A second.”
“Ugh.”
It was early. Din rubbed at his eyes and glanced out the front entrance of their home, but the suns weren’t even presenting themselves yet, barely a sliver of light on the horizon. The stars twinkled above instead. With a sigh, he walked to the child’s room, and where the sound grew louder and louder.
“Kid…”
Grogu continued to wail, even at the sight of Din. Instead, his shuddering gasps became desperate whimpers and he stood with his hands grasping at the bars of his crib. “Pada!” he cried, a garbled and growl-like sound. “Aba--”
“I’m here.”
Din swept the child up into his arms, and Grogu pushed into his chest as though his life depended on it. He trembled and shook as he cried, big wet tears falling, and Din let out a soft sigh before tucking the boy’s head beneath his chin. Little hands grasped at his collar and around his neck as Grogu tried to get as close as he could. Din turned and started back towards the bedroom, and as he stepped through, the light was turned on.
“Nightmare?” Cobb muttered, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
“They’re vivid for him.” Din sat on the edge of the bed, whimpering child cradled, until Cobb patted Din’s side of the bed. Din pushed himself back and with sleepy eyes, Cobb turned to face them, arm slipping around Din’s waist. He tugged him in closer.
“What’s got you scared?” Cobb asked, voice thick this early. He reached out to run his fingers over Grogu’s back.
Hallway. Men in white. One in black. Afraid. Afraid. Alone. So, so alone.
Din drew in a sharp breath, the feeling settling throughout his entire body. He squeezed his eyes shut and held Grogu tighter as his own guilt began to seep in. Cobb looked up at him with furrowed brows, “Din?”, and Din only shook his head.
“When Gideon had him,” he whispered.
Cobb sat up. “Did he show you that?” he whispered back. “Your… bond. Force bond.”
Din took another breath, startled by the image appearing in his mind’s eye at all. He still struggled to conceptualize exactly what existed between him and the child -- this… relationship, that Din couldn’t see or feel, until Grogu wanted him to. What the jedi had described as a forceful but loving attachment to Din, one-sided but powerful. And since Gideon’s cruiser, Grogu had decided to use this bond to its fullest.
Telepathy that only worked as long as Grogu wanted to listen, for starters.
“I think so.” At his words, Cobb slipped both arms around Din, and Din let himself lean into his lover. Grogu began to calm down. Still shaking and sniffling, but calmer. They sat together in a small group until the suns began to warm the air.
“C’mere,” Cobb murmured.
Grogu was hesitant to let go of Din. Even for Cobb. But the baby looked at Cobb, then made a soft noise and looked up at Din. Din smiled and nodded, and finally Grogu let go, reaching out for Cobb. Cobb took him with ease and the kid burrowed against his shoulder with claws digging into Cobb’s shirt.
“I’ve got you, too.” Cobb stroked his fingers over Grogu’s head. “I’m just as scary as your Daddy, huh?”
Grogu settled against Cobb with his face nuzzled into Cobb’s collar. Din managed a smile, but it faded. The vision left him more shaken than he wanted to admit. He didn’t want to be back there, either. He didn’t want to think of being on that cruiser, held in place by a Dark Trooper and—
“Hey.” Cobb tugged him in close. Din slumped into him. “I know. It hurts you, too.”
Din drew in a breath. “I couldn’t protect him. I couldn’t—“
“You’re the reason he’s safe now.” Cobb reached for his hand. “The reason you’re both here. With me. Exactly where you should be.”
Din drew in a breath. He looked up at Cobb, who cupped his cheek before pressing into a soft kiss. Din shut his eyes and leaned in, for a moment letting himself melt into the kiss, until Cobb parted. He pressed another to Din’s forehead. And when Grogu let out a whine, Cobb chuckled and pressed one to the top of his head, too. “Not forgettin’ you.”
“Thanks,” Din whispered.
Cobb stole another kiss, this one quicker, before he began to get up. “Nothin’ chases bad dreams away like some good breakfast, kid,” he said. “If you learn anything from me, it should be that.”
Din smiled as he watched them leave. The kid gave a happier squeak, beginning to babble, and they disappeared from the bedroom and into the kitchen. For a moment Din sat alone in bed and listened as Cobb started breakfast. Their same routine, seamlessly adjusting to Grogu’s nightmare, continued on.
He wouldn’t rather be anywhere else.
As delicious spiced scents began to waft in, Din got up to join the rest of his clan.
Company
My fill for the SFW day 2 prompt: Hurt/Comfort of @dincobbweek
Title: Company
Cobb's supposed to meet Din at a seedy bar in Mos Eisley, but he’s running late and a group of regulars are giving him trouble.
Cobb sits at the bar of a dive in Mos Eisley, waiting for Din. He’d contacted him the day before, on short notice, but he was going to be in the sector and stopping on Tatooine, and Cobb was not about to pass up spending a night with his Mando.
So, Cobb had hightailed it all the way from Mos Pelgo, excitement simmering in his belly at the prospect of seeing Din again. Unfortunately, it seems Din is running late. Cobb checks his chrono for the fifth time, an hour and a half past when Din had said he’d be there.
He’s already had a few drinks waiting, and he’s just minding his own business, enjoying his liquor when a rowdy group of humans walk in and situate themselves at the bar. It doesn’t take them long to single Cobb out of the slim crowd,
“Never seen you here before.” one of them asks. A skinny looking, nerf herder of a guy.
“Ain’t never been here before.” Cobb says, swirling his drink in his glass.
“What brings you in?” “Meetin’ someone.”
“Who ya meetin?” “A friend,” Cobb says, feeling his temple start to flare. “That ok with you?”
“I dunno.” A second guy chimes in, with a bigger build to him. “Depends on who’s comin’ doesn’t it.”
“Well, I don’t personally see how that’s any of your business.” Cobb says.
The last guy, big and bald, starts now. He’d been sizing Cobb up, looking him up and down. “You’re not from around here are you?”
“I’m about as tatooine as you get.” Cobb says, pushing his empty glass across the counter. The bar keep refilling it, looking like he wants to say something, maybe tell these guys to behave, but it’s not worth the effort or what it might cost him in tips.
“Based on that accent of yours.” The big guy says, “I’d say you are from some out skirt moisture farm.”
That makes Cobb’s hackles rise instantly.
“What business have you got here, really?”
“I told you” Cobb says, tenuous grasp on his temper slipping. “I’m just meeting a friend. Leave me be.”
“Why don't you just get out of here.” The bald one says, Cobb guesses that he’s probably the one in charge. “This is our bar, and I'd personally like to drink in peace.”
“Then just leave me alone, partner.” Cobb says, every hair on the back of his neck bristling as one of the guy's lackeys starts to circle him where he sits. Cobb bows his head, breathes deep. Last thing he needs is to start a fight. He should at the very least wait for Din to arrive before he does that. “I’m not lookin’ to start anything.”
Cobb rolls his shoulders when the guy leans in close, breathing down his neck and it takes all of his self control to not throw back his head and break the guy's nose right there.
“Hey,” Skinny says, motioning at Cobb’s scarf. “I think this guy has a brand under there.”
“Oh, you’re a slave, huh.” The leader says, his interest suddenly piqued. “That sure explains a lot.”
“I ain’t been a slave in a long time.” Cobb says through grit teeth, his knuckles white as he grips his glass. “Now i’m only gonna ask nice one time — back the fuck away from me.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so.“ Leader says. “You got any papers?”
“Maybe we oughta take him in, just in case,” Skinny says, still hovering around Cobb’s back. “Might get a reward.”
Cobb slowly pushes away from the bar, ready to cut his losses at this point and leave the bar, maybe he could try to find out what’s keeping Din.
“Hey you ain't going anywhere, lemme get a good look at that brand.” The leader guy says, finally reaching out and trying to grab Cobb.
Cobb doesn't like that one bit, his arm shooting out and knocking the man's hand away before he can make contact. “Do not fuckin’ touch me.”
That’s when the guy behind him decides to grab him, and this time he does throw his head back, hearing and feeling the sickening crack of cartilage as someone's nose breaks. Followed by some muffled cursing as he’s let go.
“I did warn you.” Cobb says, losing no time before launching himself at the leader, throwing a punch that lands on his jaw and knocks him back. He quickly spins, throwing another punch at the bald guy, and kicking back to land a kick in the skinny guy's stomach.
Cobb kneel’s, laying into skinny, punch after punch, until the big guy throws his arms around Cobb’s neck, pulling him back and off his friend. Cobb, reacting on pure instinct at the point, sinks his teeth into the man's forearm, making him let go with a furious scream.
“You little shit.” The leader yells, grabbing Cobb by the back of his shirt and throwing him to the ground, where he lands sprawled on his belly on the dirty floor, gasping as the wind is knocked from his lungs.
He’s flipped on his back, and before he can wiggle free, he’s pinned to the ground, knees digging harshly into his chest.
“Lemme go.” Cobb growls, fighting against the hold, kicking out with his legs,
“Oh shut up.” the guy says, drawing back his fist, slamming home into Cobb’s face several times in quick succession.
Cobb is left dazed with his ears ringing when the weight holding him down suddenly relents. He tries to get up, only for sharp pain to explode in his side, as heavy boots collide with his chest over and over. He rolls onto his side, trying to curl into a fetal position to protect his middle.
Until everything goes quiet and stops.
Cobb forces his eyes open, uncovering his face to find everyone's attention is on the door. He lets his head fall to the side, and sees a blurry figure standing backlight in the entrance.
A silhouette he’d recognize anywhere.
“You’re fucked now.” Cobb groans.
“Is that who you were waiting for?”
Cobb just smiles, blood on his teeth.
Din walks into the bar, approaching the group with his hand resting on his blaster.
“I think it would be wise if you took your leave.” Din says. And when no one moves a muscle, only staring wide eyed, Din unholsters the blaster and points it right in the man's face who’s holding Cobb down. “Now.”
The three run, leaving just Din, Cobb, and a few other patrons.
“For your trouble.” Din says, tossing a few credits on the bar.
“I’m glad you showed up.” Cobb says, as Din lifts him to his feet, he sways until Din gets a hand on his waist to steady him. “I… I coulda taken‘em though.” Cobb mutters, clenching his eyes against a sudden wave of dizziness, leaning into Din.
“I’m sure you could have.” Din says, placatingly. “Maybe if you hadn’t been drinking.”
“M’not drunk.” Cobb sighs, his head aches and his face is throbbing, and each breath burns his against his ribs. “I’m injured.”
“I know.” Din says, slipping his arm around Cobb's waist. “Let’s go, I’ve got a room.”
They make their slow way through the streets of Mos Eisley, to the little hotel Din has a room at. Cobb leaning heavily on Din as they walk, each step jarring his chest, he knows he’s going to have some bruised ribs tomorrow, if not, some cracked.
“Wait here.” Din says, depositing Cobb on the single bed to return just a moment later with a damp towel. He sits next to Cobb, cupping his cheek to hold him in place as he gently cleans the blood from his face. “You want to tell me what happened back there?”
“They didn’t like how I looked.” Cobb sighs, hissing when Din presses against his split lip. “Started talking shit, saw my brand and threatened to turn me in since I don’t have papers.”
Din cringes under his helmet, that would certainly be a great way to get a reaction out of him.
“If I hadn’t been late,” Din says, folding the towel over to a clean clean, dabbing blood from Cobb's nose. “Maybe this could have been avoided.”
“Those assholes woulda gave me shit regardless.”
“Maybe.” Din says, moving to clean the dirt smudged on his temple. “But you wouldn’t have ended up in a fight alone.”
Cobb laughs, regretting it as pain bursts in his chest, gasping as he presses a hand to his ribs.
“How are your ribs?” Din asks.
“Feel like I got stepped on by a bantha,” Cobb says tightly, gingerly letting out a breath. “I'm afraid I am not going to be up for any sort of strenuous activity you mighta had planned on tonight.”
“Do you think I came here just for that?” Din frowns as he runs his fingers though Cobb’s hair, checking for any hidden bumps. “That I see you as what? A convenient fuck.”
“Can’t see any other reason.” Cobb says, letting his eyes fall closed at the feeling, almost asking Din to keep stroking through his hair when he pulls away all too quickly. “I wouldn’t blame you, if it was.”
“Maybe I just enjoy your company.” Din says, gently taking hold of Cobb’s face in both of his hands. Cobb should probably feel intimidated, having the undivided attention of a mandalorian staring him down. But he just feels… cared for. Din presses his thumbs in along his eyes, seemingly satisfied with the lack of response from Cobb. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”
Cobb shakes his head. “You could get company anywhere though.” Cobb says, watching as Din stands, removing his armor piece by piece, placing them neatly on the small desk in the room.
“I don’t want anyone else's.” Din says, unzipping his flight suit, stepping out of it. He’s left in just his helmet, boxers and an undershirt when he turns to face Cobb. “I just want yours.”
Cobb wants to crack a joke here, about how Din looks ridiculous in his under clothes and helmet, but he can’t find the words, can’t do much of anything under Din’s gaze, except feel his cheeks go suddenly warm.
“Ok,” Cobb says quietly, following Din as he crosses the tiny room, and starts to undress him with the same care he showed to his armor. Slipping Cobb’s shirt down over his shoulders, he can already see the first bruises forming along his ribs, dark purple and mottled.
“I can get you something for the bruises tomorrow morning.” Din says, letting his fingers trail lightly along Cobb’s ribs and down to his belt. Cobb lifts his hips when Din asks, letting him pull his pants down, leaving him in just his underclothes too.
Din lifts the blankets, tucking Cobb underneath before sliding in behind him. He slips his arm around Cobb’s waist, and pulls him gently flush against him, handling him with more care than Cobb thought he was capable of, compared to their usual rough tumbles. Cobb sighs, relaxing back against Din’s warm chest, resting his arm over Din’s, drawing his hand up to rest over his belly, lacing their fingers together.
“Hey, Din?” Cobb whispers, smiling when he feels a rumbling hum in response against his back. “Thank you.”
“Go to sleep.”
Title: A Fair Bet
Fandom: The Mandalorian
Words: 1100
Characters: Din, Cobb, Grogu
Written for @dincobbweek Day 1 - Clan of Three. This is amusing family fluff at a space county fair, y’all.
*
“What’s the point of this again?” Din asked, shifting out of the way of a gaggle of children running by him. Cobb had insisted on coming out to Mos Espa, but wouldn’t tell him why. He figured there was a speeder part, or a package delivery, or something that Cobb or the people of Mos Pelgo needed taken care of right away.
What he didn’t expect was a street full of hastily erected booths of games, loud noises and flashing lights, and rides that looked dangerous even to him.
“A fair?” Cobb asked. “Fun, darlin’. The entire point is fun. Plus, it’s how we celebrate the rainy season on Tatooine.”
“There’s a rainy season?”
Cobb stopped, sighed, and turned to fix Din with a look. “The Mos Espa Rain Festival is a time honored tradition that combines fun, family, and desperately hoping for some sort of increase in moisture in the air. But the emphasis is on the fun and the family. Mostly due to those parts being the only real things you can control out of the three.” He reached over to poke Grogu in the nose as the kid nestled happily in Din’s crossbody bag. “Isn’t that right, kiddo? You’re having family fun time even though your dad is acting like a grumpy puss.” Grogu burbled happily before reaching his arms up towards Cobb. “Yes, come here you lil womp rat, you can see so much more when you’re not half covered by someone’s dramatic cape.”
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