Summary: You have long since been freed of the gladiatorial fighting pits where you worked your days maintaining the visceral grounds. With a tasteful change of view, now you're an employed waitress serving drinks alongside butler droids at Garsa Sanctuary when a particularly tense and recognizable wookie causes a disruption.
Masterlist
My Kofi ✨
You couldn’t be more grateful to be in the employ of one of, if not the most elegant establishments in Mos Espa. Madam Garsa was never one to let talents be wasted, opting to let her staff choose their own work positions. The genuine comfortability made the whole place feel like an oasis amidst these desert wastelands where parched patrons come and go to replenish themselves with the rich and luxurious amenities. Even with the most problematic of guests, the interests of her trustworthy personnel always came before her clients. Of course, having to forfeit a percentage of the house’s income came hand in hand with the license to operate in these turbulent territories, but it at least gave the Madam some peace of mind that she could run the joint any way she sees fit.
However, the laid back ambiance was soon shaken up when someone from your previous occupation pops in to kick the proverbial irling’s nest.
After Jabba’s death, a power vacuum swallowed Tattooine whilst The Twins rode out the aftermath on Nal Hutta, taking Krrsantan with them to pose as a personal bodyguard. Treated to such a liberating stretch of time, happiness and content suits you well. You could pick and choose your own wardrobe as glamorous as you wanted it to be. He probably wouldn’t even be able to recognize you as the unkempt, frail and timid girl who used to shovel rancor manure out of the dungeons and combat grounds. Certainly a droid could complete the task in a fraction of the time, but you speculated that this was just a passive form of humiliation they chose to put you through.
You anxiously escape to the bar with a rattling tray of empty glasses after seeing his graying coat and piercing eyes enter the business. He towers over everyone in the room, commanding a presence wherever he goes and you could not fathom seeing him again. Even though he only ever encountered you in passing, he was nothing but kind. Harassment and teasing was a part of the job when a Hutt sat upon the throne but Krrsantan was always there to give a disapproving glare or a menacing growl at the gesture, already executing a code of ethics on those deserving of ridicule and those in need of protection. He could clearly see you as being the latter, stepping in to buffer the mockery. You’d be lying if you said you never had prying feelings for him.
Unsurprisingly, you’ve found your own voice, no longer relying on the reluctant help of others to be a safeguard. Trying to focus on work and not colorful backgrounds of the clientele, Madam Garsa orders you to bring him refreshments while she advertises a list of services to partake in. He denies everything from gambling to courtesans, simply requesting an open tab with an endless flow of liquor that gave everyone else here a run for their credits.
Krrsantan soon morphed into the living embodiment of pure rage and all it took was a congregation of rambunctious trandoshans on a hot streak. Every time they were dealt a winning hand his chest would rise and fall with the guttural timbre. Occasionally, a static crackle would flicker across his clenched knuckles, priming them up. At this point, he’s completely abandoned sipping from a gilded chalice, violently taking massive gulps straight from the pitcher. Aware of the impending chaos, you safely gather some of the other girls away from the scene and behind the bar. At first they’re confused until they see bodies flying across the foyer, ducking beneath the counter in fright. They later beckon the question how you predicted such a turn of events, whispering to themselves at the possibility that you have a history with this tenacious wookie.
One last outburst sealed their fate as everyone on Krrsantan’s hit list was tossed aside like unwanted garbage. One of them even gets a little testy, idiotically shattering a bottle of spirits over his fortified and spiked pauldron. Unphased and more insulted than anything, he turns to face this unfortunate trandoshan, hell bent on dismembering him for daring to breathe the same air. Even through all this... you had to admit, he looked good when he’s been mean.
“I think you’ve made your point.” A calming yet assertive voice cuts through the noise, revealing itself to be your courageous manager driving a wedge through the altercation before anything or anyone else suffers a beating. She tries to reason with him, dialogue muddled by the murmurs of the onlooking crowd as well as your spooked colleagues. The yammering dies down a bit when she refers to the cruel past that these two quarreling species share, being sure to mention Krrsantan’s rise to fame through intense martial prowess. Madam Garsa humors his aching mood, hoping to ease this calamity by offering to clear all record of his debts he owes here.
Krrsantan methodically weighs the cost in his mind, giving his adversary a false sense of hope that he would consider yielding to rational thinking. Air is sucked out of the room as the masses gasp in fright at what happens next.
The shrill cries of pain travel on the reverberation of offended groans at the sight of Krrsantan dropping his victim in pieces. The poor girl tending to the now mutilated party stands with her palms upright as he unceremoniously relinquishes a large portion of his funds, finding satisfaction in paying his own debts, no matter how brutal the tactics. He scans the room, feeling the burn of judgement scorch his ego until he sees a striking set of eyes that force a bombardment of memories to flood his brain. Your understanding gaze is the only thing that ever convinced Krrsantan to show mercy, to not give into the taunts of his enemies. Had he seen you just a moment sooner, this might have never happened. He disguises the guilt he feels from bringing this unhinged savagery to your workplace with disgust for its spectators, storming out in a temperamental exit.
“It was worth a shot.” The proud new Daimyo stated to Madam Garsa from where he stood at the entrance before following Krrsantan outside. She shrugs with a scoff, rolling her eyes at such drama, then tells the band to continue playing. The tension breaks and everyone acts as if it was just another day at The Sanctuary and you’re left trying to grapple with the most eventful workday of your life.
‘You’re imagining things. He glares at everybody like that. There’s absolutely no way he recognized you.’
Shaking your head loose of these plaguing questions, you put on your best drink-serving face and finish the remainder of your shift. Wages were handed out as maintenance droids powered on and soon the premises was clear of inebriated stragglers with the rising of the Twin Suns. You looked forward to walking home in the cool dawn before the blistering heat sets in, tired from this nocturnal routine while wishing you could see a certain guest from last night.
You’re westbound, walking with your back to the sunshine. The warmth is stark against the eclipse that befalls your face and you giggle to yourself at the stretch of your own shadow. Its playful form spans the entirety of the horizon before slowly expanding in width. For a moment you think it’s just a trick of the eye, your fatigue taking hold until you find that the darkness has completely engulfed you.
This wouldn’t be the first time an overzealous drunkard has followed you home, concentrating now on the crunch of dirt and pebbles beneath their feet. Your heart begins to race as you sneakily reach for the vibroblade you keep holstered at your thigh. Mustering up all your bravery, you pivot on your heels to get the jump on this predator, defensive stance ready for anything.
“Stop! Stop following me!” You yell at the obscured silhouette. The glare of sunlight was blinding and made it hard for you to make out who it was. Fear set in the closer this tall, mystery figure got to you. You hold the knife outward and recoil into yourself until your eyes adjust.
“It’s... you.” Speechless and trembling, Krrsantan obeys your command and doesn’t move any closer. Instead he kneels down, the brightness blinding you for a second until he stands tall once again, basking you in his shadow. A rectangular tin slides from his feet to yours and you flinch at its approach. Putting away the blade, you pick the little box up and rattle it against your ear, something soft tumbling inside.
“Is this for me?” You ask, perplexed and he nods, patiently waiting your reaction. Opening the container, a vibrant and intoxicating smell filled your nostrils. It was full of wasaka berries with a piece of flimsi stained in red poking out from the bushel. The words ‘I’m sorry’ were signed in aurebesh, and your jaw grows sore from grinning so hard. This tender little care package melted your heart when you realize he had to get someone to write this apology note for him personally. Pondering to yourself, maybe it was that sharp dressed Daimyo that shared a few words with him on the patio of back at work.
“It’s okay. If anyone is to understand why you did that, it’s me. We go way back, don’t we?” You both laugh dryly, not wanting to address the bantha in the room that you’re both free of indentured servitude. “Glad to see you’re on your own now.” He shrugs, humbled by your presence and pleased to know that you’re in much better care as well.
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen a friendly face. You’re not expecting me to eat all these by myself, are you?” You chuckle while pointing your thumb behind you in the direction of your domed house, only a few minute’s commute away.
Krrsantan has to remind himself to take smaller steps as he walks alongside you, wanting to travel at your pace to make the most of this trip. He listens to your every word as you recount the events of the past few years, in awe of your resilience. You both were conditioned to endure in such different ways but each no less tormenting. He remembers the filthy confines they would keep you in and is pleased to see your cozy abode, albeit a bit small for his tastes. Krrsantan has to hunch down to get past your threshold but is thankful for the cavern-like interior to give him more mobility and headroom as you navigate him to the collection of mats and blankets in the common area.
With the berries washed and plated, you distinctly remember these being a delicacy on the planet Kashyyyk, but also a symbol of affection to those who receive them as a gift. Your pulse accelerates with the realization that this was more than an apology. This was an act of passion.
Kicking yourself for not noticing before, you think of a way to reciprocate this offering in the most unexpected way possible. Krrsantan was so polite in your home, waiting for you to finally approach him. You circle around with the plate of fruit and pop one in your mouth, holding it in your teeth by the long stem. He raises his scarred brow in your direction, astonished that you’re privy to his native customs and fidgets with excitement when you offer it up for him to take.
His eyes grow wide, lips parting and you can see his ivory fangs, glorious and pearlescent. He bites down on the dried stem that creates a bridge between your mouths and you pause to watch him savor the fruit from the vine. Within an instant, you’re being pulled by the teeth to collide with him as he jerks his head back, making you stumble into his lap.
Krrsantan’s embrace is comforting, ever so gentle as your palms are cooled by the unforgiving protective plates that cross his chest. Your nonverbal permission for him to explore your body is met with a hasty removal of his cuirass as it chimes in a pile on the floor. All that remains is the ornamental charms in his long hair, tasteful and stylish from your perspective as you admire his long, salt and pepper locks.
Taking a second to catch your breath, Krrsantan pets your face with his broad and calloused hands, raking his long fingers through your hair. With every motion, you began to notice something out of place that only confirmed the horrendous treatment of this renown champion.
You reach for one his massive hands with both of yours, fingers tracing each digit up to his notorious knuckles until you feel something completely foreign bulging beneath his skin. He lets you examine the extent of these modifications, verifying the rumors to be true; metallic alloy injections on every knuckle that made him a threat even without his dusters. How alienating this must have felt to only be perceived as a killing machine, never at a feudal disadvantage.
Krrsantan grumbles in defeat, thinking you’re having second thoughts about this whole ordeal when all his worries are hushed as you follow the line of your own jaw with his coarse hands, caressing them against your smooth skin. He freezes, stunned by your seamless acceptance of something that strikes fear in all who cross his path. You are slowly proving that he can leave all expectations and insecurities at the door, finding himself in good company at last.
It's as if the fictional shackles that weighed him down have been released and Krrsantan can show you that he wants this; that he needs this. Those shifty glances he sent your way through the years began to add up. All the times you saw him stand just a little straighter when you walked into his line of sight started to make sense. He has been the shield that guards your realm even long after making a name for himself. He never dared to forget about the spark of life you gave him. If anything, you were the highlight of those grueling days. Seeing your face meant there was still hope.
Of course you want to keep going, but Krrsantan is getting ahead of himself and you have to tell him this is new and you’re in uncharted territory, feeling him travel lower and lower to grope your luscious assets. You appreciate his eagerness but there are stages to this game and you need time to... adjust.
“Hold- hold on a minute, Santo.” He makes note of the change in your demeanor, a confused inflection in his purring. “I’m sure you know it takes a little while for humans to- uhm... prepare.”
He looks at you with a slump of his shoulders and you clearly deduce his body language to be amused by your rhetorical statement, wasting no time to embark on this crucial step if you’re to really enjoy yourself. Krrsantan holds you by the nape of your neck, stroking his thumb on your features to keep your eyes trained on his as he unzips your formfitting jumpsuit from the collar down. You gasp at the painfully slow pace he undresses you. The way the stretched fabric vibrates against your nipples sends shivers down your spine and Krrsantan hums upon the reveal of your bare breasts. His eyes dip down to idolize your beauty, the gentle hand caressing your nape slightly gains aggression as he takes a fistful of your hair, firmly holding you in place. It’s blatantly obvious what he is craving and you dare not to keep it from him for another moment.
“Go ahead... I know you want to do it.” At that notion, Krrsantan tightens the grip in your hair, pulling you up to his mouth. His lips rear back to proudly reveal every fang and molar before carnivorously latching onto your neck. The bite isn’t nearly strong enough to be lethal. Just enough to make you clench your thighs together with arousal.
Krrsantan opens your knees to dive between your legs as he marks every naked patch of skin in sight and you yelp at the alluring sting. He strips you of the singlet with ease and you’re being lowered onto the mountain of pillows. The pads of his fingers offer the ideal friction as he finds the perfect spot to tease you, rubbing circles around your clit before probing you with one of his hefty fingers. He hovers, supporting himself on his elbow as he watches you wiggle and writhe at the sudden intrusion. Judging by the depth he was reaching, it was difficult to comprehend this was only one of them.
Your hands fly to his wrist in shock when he locates that sweet spot deep inside that makes you abandon all control. The continued pressure he applies to your core coupled with the brushing against your clit had you holding onto his pelt for dear life, screaming into his chest and thrashing in waves. Krrsantan’s vigor knows no bounds as he inches down your torso, replacing his hand with his mouth this time.
“K- Krrsan-!? Wh- what are you doing!” You watch in disbelief as Krrsantan hooks your legs over his shoulders, presenting your blossoming center right in front of his mouth. Putting his robust and muscular arms under you, he raises himself to his knees to fashion you as a mask of sorts, his hair acting like reins. He would never drop you, but the awareness that your ceiling was an arm’s length away had you giddy with how weightless you felt in his clutches.
If you weren’t wet before, you’re definitely soaking now. You couldn’t decipher where his saliva starts and your slick ends, let alone already losing count of the climaxes he’s rung out of you. You’re breathless and debilitated from the strain, but he’s nowhere near done with you yet.
He finally breaks contact to initiate the next phase. You glance at him, disoriented and confused as to why his grip on you is loosening until the thought finally clicks. The backs of your knees slide down his shoulders until they meet the crooks of his elbows. “Oh!” You exclaim when a firm prodding appears at your backside. Krrsantan maneuvers you with one arm while guiding himself in with the other, careful not to invade the wrong area. He growls in unison with your high pitch wail during the splitting entry. Knowing it’s too much too fast, he steadily bobs you up and down until your supple body yields to his breadth. You wince at the stretch but soon find yourself welcoming every ridge and vein as it impales you further.
With a face burning hot, you lose yourself in the incredible magnitude of the distension emerging in your abdomen. Before long, the tickle of Krrsantan’s draping fur met with your rippling ass, pushing as far as he can into you. He stops for a beat to watch himself disappear within your walls and you roll your hips, feeding into your own pleasure to grind against him. He throws his head back, letting you push him into the bedding as you take his place, asserting your dominance. Krrsantan studies your every move as you mount him but is baffled when you swivel on his shaft, facing the opposite way.
Now on your knees straddling his waist, you bend down to really give him a show. Spread wide and hugging every inch of his vast length, your elbows snugly rest on one of the many pillows that surround you. Krrsantan’s legs clench at either side of your head and you dizzily smile at how well you fit together. Amidst your continuous slamming, he would land a rigid slap at the crown of each cheek, massaging the tingle away until it was nearly soothed before reviving the flare all over again.
Krrsantan started to position himself on his knees now, lifting your waist with him as he keeps your face pressed down without ever faltering. He so courteously pushes your dampened hair aside, allowing you to breathe as well as see your contorting expressions. Your entire body quakes with his thrusts as he scores your back with his abrasive nails, deafening shrieks being muffled by the cushions in your face. Krrsantan was becoming more vocal, allowing his roars to fill the room and advertise the sensational bliss that comes with collectively approaching that blessed summit. It was the perfect fuel to your seductive fire, especially when he made sure to keep in contact with your clit.
The captivating influence you have over one another has Krrsantan lacking in speed, easing himself out of you as hot ropes of his spend shoot clear across your back, dripping down your curves. The sheer amount turned you on more than you ever thought possible, letting out a shaky breath when you watch a glistening stream stain the bed of textile that separates you from the stone ground. Krrsantan is blown away, panting to himself as he stumbles about to look for a cloth to wipe you down with. You’re left tipsy by the afterglow as your body surrenders to the fatigue, laying flat on your belly.
A rumbling laugh sounded off from where he stood in the room, entertained by your worn-out state. After a long shift followed by strenuous physical activity, you were about ready to pass out. With a few thorough swipes of the towel, Krrsantan cleaned you off. You were too drained to even move so he curls up beside you on the floor, pulling you into his space. The suns have risen far past the horizon, indicating it to be at least high noon. You should have been asleep hours ago but luckily for you, you have the next couple weeks to yourself for a desperately needed vacation. After this day, you’ve never had a deeper sleep than curled up in Krrsantan’s lap.
#EDITS #QUOTES:
Boba Fett ♢ reasonable negotiations
Give me your tablet. I will write out my statement and what I am willing to pay.
The Book of Boba Fett - Chapter 8: In The Name of Honor
This challenging commission has been brought to life for the always supportive and ever grateful @misogirl828!! You are a sweetheart and painting this for you was an IMMENSE pleasure! May the Fourth be with you! Always! ☺️🤗🫂
ID: A 9x12 canvas board watercolor and acrylic painting of Din and Boba in S1E7 of TBoBF, mid battle while defending what remains of Garsa Sanctuary. The background contains a couple neighboring sandstone buildings that occupy the thoroughfare. This is the moment in the episode when the two fearless Mandalorians realize that reinforcements have finally arrived.
Tap for higher quality. 👆
This piece will be available for purchase along with all my other archived paintings if anyone would like a printed copy of their own!
If you like this, consider getting one for yourself! Commissions are open and live on my Kofi!☑️
