#boba fett imagines

[syn0vial]

yes, yes, boba fett finds it strange and uncomfortable when people can see his face and this is one of the major reasons he almost never removes his helmet (in the expanded universe anyway), but another factor that i think isn't explored nearly enough is just how much his helmet shapes how he sees the world. it grants him 360° vision, lets him interface with his weapon systems and slave I, and automatically dampens loud noises and dims bright lights. imagine going through the vast majority of your life seeing the world through that lens and then suddenly taking it away. removing his helmet for any significant length of time likely isn't just uncomfortable for him but downright disorienting.

[trashy1turtle]

Yeah, I'm fine

*Types "«character name> x reader" into tumblr search bar*

[omaano]

"Kriffing hell, he’d fallen asleep. On Boba.  They’d stayed back to back, but Din’s head had leaned over onto Boba’s shoulder. The poor guy had been holding Din’s weight for—a quick check of his chrono eased some of his guilt; it’d only been ten minutes." Mand'alor Cabur chapter 14 by @nautilicious

This is one of my all-time favourite BobaDin fics, please give it a read and heap some love on the author, they really deserve it! (Their Boba is amazing. He isn't actively present all that much, but even then he has a presence, you know? and it's so good, I love him so much there!!!)

[acatalystrising]

I had to make it. Had to.

I mean…🥰🫠

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 14

Boba Fett + Lingerie

Hey nerds, what’s popping. I’ve been playing a lot of baldurs gate, and I swear I wouldn’t survive a day there cuz whys the emperor kinda hot. Readers a bounty hunter. No real smut, just Boba being insecure about his body, and you thinking hes a damn meal.

2024 kinktober masterlist

Boba stared at himself in the mirror of his personal bathroom, feeling like a right idiot. He was a man in his 40s, who’s skin was more scar tissue than not, and a body that wasn’t the muscular sleekness of his prime. Crawling out of the sarlacc and living amongst tuskens for a while hadn’t helped him keep “in shape” either, as they saw having some chub as good. The nights were cold, and food was scarce, so put on weight where you can, and all that.

Having a ruler that had some softness to him, but also strength behind it, seemed to also make the citizens of tatooine happy, as they shared that same cultural norm with the tuskens. With Boba being their first good ruler in who knew how long, the thought of him dying from the cold or starvation seemed to be what they wanted the least.

Standing there in front of the mirror in that soft frilly mess that fennec had secretly gotten for him, made him feel so stupid. He knew his friend hadn’t looked in the package, she had just gone and picked it up for him since he didn’t have time before you got back from your latest run, but she had at least carried a knowing look.

Boba was starting to regret ever thinking of this. The soft fragile fabric stretched wrong around areas of his body where he carried muscle or strength in ways others didn’t, and was loose in other areas like the chest. He hadn’t spent much time looking for customized work, alright? So, he bought what was available, but looking at himself now it felt like the dumbest decision he had ever made.

With a raspy exhale, Boba started pulling the lingerie off himself. It wasn’t anything extreme, mainly just a torso-piece, and some stockings he didn’t even want to try putting on. His back wasn’t agreeing with him today, and neither were his knees enough to bend and pull those things on. There was what looked like a frilly lace collar, but that had quickly been thrown back into the box. It felt too much like a slave collar, so there was no way he would weird that.

The doors to his room opened, making Boba instinctively tense. But no alarm went off and nothing was off, and the whistling made it obvious you had gotten back a couple of hours before you were meant too. You had been meant to arrive in the morning, so Boba wanted to try the frilly lingerie on just to see how it looked, maybe surprise you with it in bed.

You sounded tired though, just from how you were dragging your feet. Clearly looking around the room for him, since his armour was on its stand and his belt was hanging beside the bed. “Boba?” you called out, your voice nearing as you tried to tap the console beside the bathroom door to check for him.

When it didn’t open it became obvious where your lover was. Normally you’d start cracking a few jokes and just crawl back into bed, but his lack of a reply made you tense. Was he in pain? Unconscious? Uncomfortable? “Boba?” you called out again, voice now with a twinge of worry in it. Boba suffering from his pains wasn’t anything new, not after the sarlacc pit and the changes in weather on the desert planet.

Boba had a sigh and run a hand over his head, glancing at himself in the mirror with a quiet pitying look. Maybe he was pitying himself. You two had been together for years, back when he was still in his prime, back when he was Darth Vaders favourite bounty hunter. You had seen how handsome he was, but now? Now he felt like a shapeless lump.

“I’m here” he finally rumbled out, chewing at his lip. Boba didn’t even have any change of clothes with him in the bathroom. He could just wander out naked if he wanted, but that would just lead to you thinking that was the surprise, and Boba wasn’t sure he was even in the mood to truly do anything wild. He had no doubt you would understand, but call him insecure, boba still wanted to please you.

“Just, go sit on the bed, alright?” you heard him say, his voice still making you weary. But like a good lover who’d been with Boba for many years at this point, you shuffled backwards and sat down, hands on your knees and legs tense, ready to spring up if anything was amiss.

The door whooshing open made your back straighten, mouth cracking open to speak, only for the words to peter out as your jaw loosened, dropping more and more as your partner shuffled out. Boba couldn’t look you in the eyes, his arms coming up to hug himself in a clear display of self-comfort. He was… insecure. That wasn’t something you saw on your partner regularly, not when he always looked hotter than the Tatooine suns.

“Wow” you finally exhale, brows lifted, and pupils blown wide as hot almost exploded inside you. it didn’t quell your want to comfort him, but it wasn’t difficult to ignore how fast you rose to full mast. “You look so beautiful” you get out, seeing how Boba curled into himself at your lack of depth.

Boba seemed shocked by your words, even more so when you got up and approached him, your hands careful as you touched his shoulders, down his arms and sides, to his hips, and back up again to cradle his face. Your hands were so nice against his hot dry skin. The Tatooine suns weren’t kind to anybody, but having so much scar tissue caused issues at times.

“So, so beautiful” you sigh, leaning in to press a kiss between his eyes, before moving on to kiss all over his face. From his brows, to his cheeks and his chin, to finally press a longing kiss on his lips. It was clear he didn’t want to go deeper than this tonight, the look in his eyes and body language told you as such, but your clear adoration made him relax more and more.

It took a bit of convincing, but you got him shuffled closer to the bed, where you got Boba to lay down, noting with hawklike attention as he hissed and groaned as he laid down. So, his back was hurting, probably his knees or hips too, which meant definitely no steamy reunion tonight.

Instead, you simply got to work mumbling praises against his body as you kissed him all over, gushing about how he wanted to surprise you and how good he looked. Who cared if the lingerie clearly hadn’t been made for his bodytype. Boba fett could look good in a damn sack if he chose to wear it, and you were sure of that.

When you finally got Boba to relax fully, your scarred lover melting into the soft mattress and closing his eyes with a sigh, you truly got to work. Luckily, you always stocked up on his ointments and salves, and the lingerie had enough gaps that you could slide your hands under it, and rub the salves into his skin where you knew he ached the most.

The medicine seemed to kick in almost immediately, Boba giving a groan of relief as the last of his tension melted out of him. This though, made it possible for him to pull you down against him, a skin growing on his lips as he felt your obvious arousal press against his torso.

Normally you two would rut against each other like wild animals, or well, not as much anymore. A couple of years back you two would go at it like death was looming, and it was, with the kinds of jobs you did. But it led to a lot of aches and bruises that could be avoided. And honestly? Laying here with Boba, listening to his heartbeat, feeling the soft silky material against your face and smelling the herbal scent of his salves? Well, it was so much better.

You kinda hoped he was feeling better in the morning though, since you wanted nothing more than to roll him over and show him just how much you had missed him.

[lex-the-flex]

Cosmic Veins

Luke Skywalker x reader

Summary: Rekindling after an unfortunate assignment, Luke devotes himself as the wonderful man that he is to strengthen your relationship, and fulfills only a fraction of his destiny.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warning(s): MEGA FLUFF, the reader and Luke just being in love, all the feelings; (both good & bad), mentions of amnesia, the reader + Luke being slightly insecure about the future, just two Jedi in their prime, Luke being a dutiful Jedi Master, the duo discovering their love languages, 18 + – PURE SMUT, loss of virginity (reader), oral f! receiving, body + skin appreciation, and unprotected sex. (wrap it before you tap it, kids)

A/N: It’s about time that I wrote for Luke! It’s been a hot minute and I love this man so much. 18+ FIC, MINORS DNI!! Thank you to @dailydragon08 for the AMAZING lines to kick off the smut. You're an absolute god! Feedback is always appreciated and enjoy!

Salt and lavender lingered through the air whilst the calming sounds of Naboo’s endless waves turn your room into the private sanctuary it was meant to be. The sun threatens to peek over the horizon of the still ocean while you stir in your sleep beneath the fresh silk bedding. Turning your head into the layers of plush pillows, your brows scrunch at the visions behind your eyes. Jolting awake, you gasped for air, praying that the dreams would soon end. 

The conflict finally subsided in the past, but the wounds remain on your heart. Luke had returned from the Dark Side, from the vile control of an evil presence that you never got to meet. Unfortunately, when Leia couldn’t find it in herself to fight her own brother, her twin, you were put on the chopping block. 

And it nearly cost your life. You were thrown into a coma for two months, but the worst part: you suffered from a miniscule moment of amnesia. You couldn’t remember anything about Luke Skywalker or your friends. Luckily they refused to give up and you recovered in time with the Rebellion by your side. Once you did, Leia immediately prompted a change of scenery for you and Luke. The two of you needed to get away from everything to heal. 

Removing your hand from your chest, you ran it along the empty side of the bed where you expected Luke to be. But he wasn’t. He refused to sleep in the same bed as you, in fear of hurting you, so he took to the marble floor. Gazing over to his usual spot on the floor by the changing screen, the makeshift bedding was messy, and he was gone. Twirling the engagement band around your ring finger, you fixate on the pale amethyst encased in silver within the dim light, and you remember why Luke gave it to you in the first place.

Wiping your face, you spotted your dark ebony robes neatly folded on the desk, and the room’s scents kickstarted the day. So with a heavy sigh, you quietly got dressed, and your faithful handmaid, Winter, brought you breakfast and to announce that Luke promptly requested to see you on the beach. You could feel that something was different in the air; he had good news to share, and a smile finally filled your lips for the first time in a long time. Descending the stone steps of the courtyard to the beach, you finished your early breakfast and discarded the pear’s core amongst the flower bushes where it would be finished by the sparrows momentarily. 

Rounding the corner, you spotted Luke amongst the dawn as your boots crunched the pebbled sand below. Noticing that he was deep in a meditative state, you quietly kept your distance, not wanting to disturb him. Glancing back towards the staircase, you thought about leaving for a second, but your feet remained planted.

“No, don’t go. You’re as strong as the waves, Y/N.” 

Inching closer to Luke, a large smile overtakes his lips, and he closes his arms around you. Feeling yourself let go in his embrace, his warmth was comforting as if it was something you were missing. Basking in your company, Luke kisses your forehead. 

“Everything alright? You’re trembling.” He asks, running his hands up and down your arms. 

“I’m fine, Luke. I just couldn’t sleep, that’s all.” You reply, gazing into his blue eyes. 

“Are your dreams still bothering you?” He asks. 

Raising his hand to your temple, Luke silently begins to peer into your mind, ready to discover what’s troubling you. But you take his gloved hand in yours instead. 

Rubbing your knuckles, he quietly understands that your nightmares are at their end, as is the shared exile. 

“They’re not the worst thing I’ve dealt with. Trust me.” You smirk. 

Chuckling at your response, Luke shields his eyes at the sight of the morning sun starting to peer out from under the waves. Basking in your company, Luke clasps his hands around your shoulders and a burst of excitement fills his face. 

“So, I have a small surprise for us, Y/N. Before my security team arrived, my Commander told me that he discovered something just off the coast.” Luke explains, leading you further down the beach. 

“A surprise sounds lovely, Luke. Besides, it gives us a chance to evade the power hungry Senators and staff for once.” You laugh at Luke’s proposition. 

Following Luke towards the end of the beach, the various oak trees start to blend with the damp sand and pebbles. Reaching the beginning of Naboo’s uncharted woods, the sight of a few broken rock walls line the shore before descending into the water. Taking in the new beauty of the planet’s nature, Luke playfully covers your eyes, careful not to spoil the surprise. 

“Are you ready? We’re here.” He teases. 

“Yes! The suspense is killing me, Luke! What is it?” You ask, trying to break his fingers apart. 

Removing his hands, you’re suddenly greeted with the view of an old and abandoned stone tower jutting out from the water. Surrounded by a ring of ferns and moss, the tower perfectly camouflages in the rest of the planet's green fauna. 

Your jaw nearly hits the floor at this awesome sight. Sure you and Luke had discovered many old ruins in the past, but nothing compared to this. 

“It’s an old lookout tower. Long before the Clone Wars, Naboo’s trading system used to operate on its soldiers living in lookout towers. Commander Uphsur said that this is only one of two remaining. I've already taken a look at the other one, but there’s something special about this tower. Like it’s calling to me.” Luke confidently explains. 

Refusing to believe him, you shoot him a nasty look. 

“Did you just make that up?” You question, crossing your arms together. 

“Yeah, I just made that up.” Luke nods, admitting his defeat. 

Nudging his elbow, you both smile at his joke. 

“Alright, Master Jedi, how are we getting across? We could jump.” You advise. 

Climbing to the top of a small boulder, Luke offers his hand and you join him, getting a better view of the tower. Then, without thinking, he dives into the cold water and resurfaces with a gasp for fresh air. 

“Luke, what are you doing? You’ll catch a cold!” You shout, hesitant about jumping in. 

“Come on, the water’s only a little chilly! Let’s enjoy the ocean while we can!” He emphasizes, wiping his wet hair from his face. 

With a deep breath, you launch yourself from the boulder and jump into the salty water below. Whining at the freezing water, the sound of Luke’s laughter fills the nature sanctuary. 

“Oh, you liar! You actually thought swimming during the spring would be a good idea?!” You shout, frantically swimming towards Luke. 

“I had to get you to join me somehow.” Luke replies at his victory. 

Splashing a wave in Luke’s direction, he uses the Force to block the water before meeting up at the base of the tower. 

“Now that’s cheating! How dare you block my shot!” You say, making your way to the tower. 

“Don’t doubt my abilities, Y/N! Besides, we all could use some fun in our lives.” Luke answers, extending his hand down to you. 

Joining your palm around Luke’s, he pulls you from the stream, satisfied with his trick. Shaking your drenched robes, you scoff at the foggy weather. Opening the old door, Luke rams his shoulder, cracking the weather wood in the process. Wandering inside the tower, the blinding light of the morning sun shines on the light grey stone flooring. 

Squinting inside, the once lived in tower remains empty with nothing inside. Squeezing your braid, you try to get as much of the water out as you make a circle around the room’s interior. Scrunching your brows, you take in the emptiness of this place, wondering as to why Luke brought you here. 

“There’s nothing in here. Why are we here, Luke?” You ask, unlatching your heavy cloak from your shoulders. 

Standing above the remnants of an destroyed tiny desk, Luke wipes off his dusty gloves. 

“Can’t I spend some time with my fiancée before we return to Ossus? That’s all I want right now.” Luke replies, with his back to you. 

“Luke, why are we here?” You ask again with a more serious tone, determined to get an answer. 

Turning to face you, Luke steps toward you, stopping to look you in the eye. 

“I couldn’t have the Senators and the others in the Palace eavesdrop. I already feel like a foreigner in my mother’s domain and you know I’m right. The truth is, I’m scared, Y/N. I’m terrified of what the future will bring …especially after I hurt you. I nearly killed you with my own hands and I wasn’t myself.” Luke’s shaking voice makes tears fill your eyes. 

A lump rises in the back of your throat whilst Luke bends his head down to you, almost as if he’s bowing to you out of respect. Taking your hands in his, he guides his thumb over the engagement ring he gifted to you out of pure duty. 

“But I’m here. I’m alive and stronger than ever because of you, Luke. I know the gem doesn’t feel like much, but it means the world to me. It means you love me with all our heart. I’ve never had anyone step up the way you have, regardless if they were a Jedi or not. You are your father’s son, Luke, but you are so much like your mother.” You explain, taking Luke’s face in your hands, with your eyes fixated on his facial features. 

“Will this change us from our paths, Y/N? I’ve gone past the Code. I’ve been on both sides of the Jedi Way, but this feels different from anything else I’ve felt before. Even though we aren’t meant to know the future, I can’t help but decide what I want, what I need.” He explains, walking closer to you.

Placing your hand in the center of his chest, Luke leans his forehead against yours, matching his heartbeat in time with your soothing rhythm. The pale amethyst beams up into Luke’s peripheral vision, allowing him to fully combat the moment. His bright icy eyes reflect against your e/c orbs just as his pink lips hover an inch above yours. 

The presence of his hands playing with your belt’s sash makes butterflies rise in your stomach. As the two of you stood here in this private intimate point in time, the two of you were no longer Jedi. But two people who are in love with each other to the very core. 

“What do you want?” You ask, raising your chin. 

Breathing out, Luke swallows his pride. 

“You.” 

Closing his lips around yours, you barely have time to register his answer as his hands begin to wander along your drenched robes. Roaming against the seams and stitching of the sash at your hips, Luke quickly rids you of the tight knot, while guiding you backwards into the growing sunspot. Discarding the ebony robes from your chilled form, freeing your exposed chest underneath. Descending your goosebumped filled body, Luke glides his lips along every part of your exposed skin, and tugs around the shape of your breasts, letting go once you begin to shiver unnaturally from the cold.

Untying your boots, he pulls your pants from your shaking legs, hoping to quickly get you warm. Ridding himself of his frigid clothes, Luke is suddenly hypnotized by the beauty of your nude form, his lips pressed along the crease of your hips, and continues towards the sensitive skin of your thighs. Collecting your throbbing folds in his lips, your mouth falls open just as Luke’s tongue plays with the bundle of nerves. 

Running your fingers through his dirty blonde hair, Luke inserts his tongue past your virgin entrance, hoping to explore all of you first. Moaning at this unfamiliar feeling, your fingers repeatedly scratch his scalp as the booming sound of your heartbeat fills your ears, drowning out every other sound. 

“Luke?” You call out. 

Immediately stopping, Luke stands up in a heartbeat and gives you all of his attention.

“Yes?” He responds, taking your chin in his hand.

“I need all of you.” You whisper before him. 

Collapsing your arms around his broad shoulders, your nearly exhausted pants fill the air. 

Deepening the kiss once more, Luke captures your taste in your mouth, before laying you down in the middle of the floor on top of his cloak. Hovering above your body, Luke gives you soft kisses along your jaw, allowing some of your tension to disappear. Closing the space between you, Luke guides your legs around his waist, opening yourself to him. Shifting yourself to get comfortable, Luke adjusts his weight to his knees, and presses his hands on either side of your face. 

“I don’t want to hurt you, Y/N.” Luke says, touching your nose with his. 

“You won’t, Luke. I trust you.” You whisper, closing your eyes. 

Capturing your neck with a series of kisses, Luke gently touches his manhood against your openings causing you to gulp at the sensation of it all. Teasing your throbbing folds with his erect tip, a gasp escapes your lips and you grip his broad shoulders at the unknown feeling of your bodies melting around each other. Your bundle of nerves soak up Luke’s warmth and he slowly thrusts himself past your entrance, Luke desperately wanted nothing more than to be deep inside of you, allowing you to surrender to his euphoria. Wincing at this foreign feeling, you lean into his arms, silently begging for support and Luke senses your growing desperation. 

“Are you alright? Do you want me to stop?” He asks into your ear. 

“No, I’m alright. Just keep going.” You answer. 

Smiling at your sudden boost of confidence, Luke quickened his pace, wanting to feel you around him. Trailing his lips down to your collarbones, the sweet sounds of your shared moans became more valuable than anything on Naboo. Gliding your hands down Luke’s muscular form, you suddenly became overwhelmed with all the love and lust in the world, causing a few tears to fall down your face. 

Pepper kissing your tears away, Luke’s lungs suddenly clogged with lust as he opened himself up to you, and he buried his face in the softness of your neck. Stretching himself out, you welcomed his pleasure into your heart as he placed his hand on your chest. Discovering your sensitive spot, you both moaned and whimpered at how good everything felt. Digging your nails deeper into Luke’s hot skin, you felt a fluttering in your stomach. 

“I’m here, Y/N.” Luke says as his voice echoes in your ears. 

Nodding at his declaration, you couldn’t handle the tension for a second longer, and your walls squeezed around Luke. Finishing after you, your whole body went numb and Luke’s ears started to ring. Shielding your nude skin from the cold, Luke pulled his cloak around tired body. Hugging his muscular form, the warmth of his cloak made your eyelids grow heavy as Luke gave you his arm to lay on.

“I’ll never stop loving you, Y/N. Even until the end of time.” Luke declares, brushing a few strands of hair away from your face. 

“I love you beyond the limits of stars, Luke.” You reply, feeling sleep take over your mind. 

luke skywalker taglist ~

@dreamliners

@midnightepiphany

@maybeimart

@nonbinary-tatooine

@kaleidoscope1967eyes

@dailydragon08

@eveningserenityyy

@sonofthedunes

@wicked0clouds

@tearsleftt

@thereallchristine

@partofmejustwantstosleep

@xxx-aurora-swirls

@remusstefon

@annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny

@0paperairplane0

@jobean12-blog

@winter-soldier-101

@kethamine

@pantaeudaimonia

@acupnoodle

@flawros

@skx-wlkr-blog

@xplore-the-unknwn

@tatooineknights

@myevilmouse 

@gabbasposts

[syn0vial]

in legacy of the force: sacrifice, we see that removing one's boots before entering the house is a non-negotiable rule in the beviin-vasur household, including for fett.

this means that the majority of the scenes taking place in the farmhouse—including the most dramatic—must involve most of the mando characters (fett included) walking around in full armor and socks

[runawrites-blog]

Protection (Boba Fett x Reader)

Summary: Five times the people in the palace saw how protective Boba was of you and one time you got to protect him. (5+1; Gender Neutral Reader) Word Count: 3,325 Warnings: Mild Violence, Disrespectful Language Directed at Reader, Assassination Attempt on Boba, Fire, No Y/N, Petnames (Cyar'ika, Mesh'la) Crossposted on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35277751

---

I.

Your place at the palace had been a topic of discussion ever since Boba had taken over Tatooine. You had been by his side from the start, arriving soon after him and Fennec. And ever since then, people have been talking. Some assumed you were his spouse, others questioned if you were a pleasure slave – and questioned why the man so against slavery was keeping you as one – and some others thought you were an advisor.

And your interactions with people at the court, diplomats on visits, and the king himself made things no clearer. You were friendly and polite to the others at court as though you were a worker like them, never seeing yourself as above them and always treating them with respect. When there were diplomats visiting, you were next to Boba, making deals and talking politics. And when there was peace and celebration at the palace, you were by his side, holding onto his arm, sitting in his lap on the throne, or affectionately talking to him.

When you weren’t around, like this time, Boba was sitting on the throne alone, Fennec next to him. She was talking to him in a low voice while he surveyed the room. Perhaps he was looking for you, some of the guests mused.

And then, you walked into the room, quickly approaching the throne. Your usual air of confidence seemed off with how fast you approached Boba to grasp his hand and sit on the arm of the throne. Boba noticed the changes in your demeanour, too, and let go of your hands to place one of his on the small of your back, pulling you a little closer until you were leaning against him.

“Are you alright?”

You nodded at Boba, a little too quickly and vehemently for it to not be suspicious. “I’m fine. I just had an unpleasant run-in with one of the guards.”

“What?” Boba hissed and let go of you to grasp at your arm and examine you. When he spotted the marks on your wrists he seemed furious and the people in the court quieted down. “Did they touch you?”

“He tried to-- tried to threaten me. He grabbed my arm and-- and held me to the wall. I managed to free myself but that other guard, she was just standing by and she didn’t help me.” You recounted, stumbling over your words. “On the contrary – she egged him on.”

“What guards?” Boba asked, grabbing your hand once again, watching your shoulders relax at the gesture. “What are their names?”

“I don’t know their names but I could point them out to you.”

“No one touches you.” He hissed. “You are my riduur and no one is allowed to treat you like that, with the intent to harm you!”

“Boba, please calm down. I’m fine.”

“Do you want them dead?”

You quieted down before slowly sliding off the arm of the throne and into his lap, arms wrapping around his arm. His protectiveness seemed to make you feel so much more at ease as you inched ever so closely.

“Cyar’ika, do you want them dead?” Boba asked one more, though his hand found its way to your hair quickly. “I will surely punish them but I want your opinion on what they deserve.”

“No.” You said softly. “I just want to be sure that I never have to see them again.”

“That can certainly be arranged.”

---

II.

You were his spouse. He had said so himself. If you two were actually married or if he just referred to you as such out of possessiveness or sentimentality was still unclear. But nevertheless, people were now sure of his romantic relationship with you. And they acted accordingly.

After the guards that had harassed you were sent away, people worried to meet the same fate and kept their distance. They could tell that it saddened you, could see the disappointment in your eyes and the way you tried to talk to the other people in the palace, but they didn’t want to risk it.

With everyone in the palace being so careful around you and trying to avoid being punished by Boba, it came to no surprise that you were delighted by the news that some sort of negotiator was coming to visit the palace. Now Boba hadn’t told you the exact reason they were coming but you knew enough about them, their plans to trade with Tatooine and their customs to entertain them during the fest that would follow the negotiations.

The people in the palace watched as you laughed away with one of the negotiators, telling her about how wonderfully Tatooine had developed since Boba had come to power. And they also watched as Boba eyed you with a fond expression, helmet on the arm of the throne and a soft smile on his face.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t long until things got out of hand. A guest stumbled and fell against one of the lights that were illuminating the throne hall, kicking loose a chain of events that would lead to the room being engulfed in flames. The light broke and the fire spread over the curtains and few wooden structures, quickly lighting them ablaze. People panicked immediately, cramming to get out of the room.

“Follow me!” You instructed the negotiator. “Keep close to the wall so you don’t get pushed around.”

“Thank you.” She said and grabbed onto your wrist, letting you lead her toward the exit. “Thank you so much.”

With a bit of difficulty, you managed to get her to the door and ushered her outside. You were about to turn back to look for Boba when a cracking sound from just above you caught your attention. And you barely had the time to look up before a large wooden beam came crashing toward you. Instinctively, you cowered, covering your head to shield it but the expected blow never came.

When you looked up, you found Boba next to you, arm angled and held up, keeping the beam from crushing you. Quickly you moved away from the wooden beam and watched Boba drop it to the floor before he turned, grasping your arms.

“You need to leave.”

“What about you?” You asked desperately, trying to find his eyes through the helmet he now had on again. “You need to get out!”

“I need to help put out the fire.” He said and pushed you toward the door. “Go, get to safety and wait for me!”

Despite your initial hesitance, you left, figuring that if you were gone he would have one less person to worry about and could concentrate on getting himself to safety. Yet, no one could deny the worry on your face or the tears in your eyes as you watched more and more people leave the palace, Boba not amongst them.

And when he eventually came outside, the people of the court all watched you sprint toward him before hurling yourself into his arms. He caught you with little difficulty and held you tightly as you took a few deep breaths until he spoke up to calm you down.

“Don’t worry, Cyar’ika. I’m here now.”

---

III.

People knew that Boba was protective. So it came to no surprise that when you came back from a diplomatic mission, bloodied up and covered in bruises, he was up in arms. You had entered the throne room, the helmet you wore when flying under your arm, your hair a mess, your face covered in bruises as you looked up at the throne.

Before Boba could say anything you spoke, voice hoarse. “The diplomatic mission went well. This is simply the result of someone ambushing my ship on the way back.”

“Cyar’ika, get up here now.”

Slowly, you made your way up and everyone in the court held their breaths. Boba grabbed you as soon as you had gotten close and pulled at your arm to get you close enough to examine the wounds.

“Where are you injured?”

“Just bruises and a few scraps mostly.”

“Mostly is not good enough, Mesh’la.” He said sternly. “Anything major?”

Gingerly, you moved your hand to gesture to your hip and Boba’s eyes wandered there before he frowned. There was an obvious stab wound at your hip but your belt had been pulled so tightly that it was stopping the bleeding. Shaking his head, Boba rose to his feet and everyone around watched in anticipation.

“Fennec, take over for me while I treat these wounds.” He said and looked back at you. “You are coming with me.”

“Love, I can take care of myself.” You said softly. “I just need a few stitches and I’m sure I can find someone else to do that. You have your duties.”

“I do have my duties. And protecting my riduur is one of them.”

---

IV.

Your screams of pain jarred everyone in the throne room and within seconds Boba was at his feet, Fennec not far behind as he hurried to help. But he didn’t get far before you came scrambling into the room and when you saw the two of them, you rounded their bodies to shield yourself, fumbling for your blaster before realising it wasn’t secured to your hip and swearing quietly. While Fennec readied her gun, aiming at the door, Boba turned around to you and took hold of your arms.

“What happened?”

“That-- that man who came to negotiate who-- you turned him down and he must have been pretty angry because he grabbed me from behind and tried to kriffing-- I don’t even know what his darn plan was and I don’t want to know!”

Boba stared at you in horror, realising that a man he had let into the palace had attempted to harm you. Quickly, he drew you close, his hand shielding the back of your neck as he held you. And then the man stumbled inside, clearly drunk and a bloodied knife in his hands. He looked beaten, as though you had gotten a few good hits in before he had gotten out his knife.

And as he took in the blood dripping from the knife, Boba froze and quickly pushed you back to examine you. There was a few cuts on your arms and chest area but nothing major. Still, the knowledge that someone had hurt you like that filled him with burning rage and he called out to Fennec to immobilise the man which she did without much trouble before turning back to Boba.

“What do you want me to do with him?” She asked, holding the man’s arms behind his back and looking up at the two of you. “Shoot him?”

“Shoot me?” The man slurred. “I can-- if you hadn’t turned down my deal, your little spouse wouldn’t have gotten it, Fett!”

Fennec eyed Boba out of the corner of her eyes, watching his body tense up as he kept a protective arm around you. “What do you want me to do with him?”

“Lock him up! I’ll deal with him later.” Boba snapped and looked back at you once Fennec had begun to drag the man off. “What did he do? Did he touch you?”

“No, he just-- he got a few cuts and hits in but I’m fine.”

Boba looked at you for a long time before sighing quietly. “The man I let inside hurt you like this. How can you look at me with love in your eyes? Aren’t you angry?”

You shook your head very quickly, taking his hands into his. “It was not your fault. He attacked me. That has nothing to do with you, no matter what he said.”

“Do you need me to call someone to treat your wounds?”

“Please.”

---

V.

It wasn’t just that Boba was protective of you. He also valued your opinion and despised it when others talked down to you. If a diplomat didn’t respect you, writing you off as nothing more than the king’s spouse or if an advisor scoffed at your opinions, not considering them, Boba would reprimand them. He demanded respect for you just as much as he demanded it for himself.

Most of the time, a stern reprimand or a reminder of your position was enough to shut any disrespect down fairly quickly. But on this particular day, two negotiators had come from a faraway planet, planning on trading with Tatooine. They had talked to Boba in the throne room, laying out their demands and offerings. The other people of the court stood by, watching the negotiations go down as they quietly mused about what outcome to expect.

It wasn’t until you had chimed in, leaning down to Boba from where you had been sitting on the arm of the throne, to remind him that their demands were fairly high for what they were offering, that one of the negotiators spoke up.

“I am certain that the great Boba Fett would rather decide himself than listen to the advice of a simple pleasure slave.”

Everything went quiet as soon as the words had left the woman’s mouth. You raised your head, looking down on her while Boba straightened up in his seat and Fennec cocked her head to the side a little, waiting for the man’s response. But you were quicker.

“If I was merely a pleasure slave – which I am not – it would be horribly embarrassing for your unattractive trade offer to be caught by the likes of me, wouldn’t you think so?” You asked in a cold tone of voice.

“Boba Fett, we implore you to agree to this offer.”

“Why should he?” You asked in slight disdain. “To rely on the harvest of a planet whose climate is unpredictable at best and unfit for agriculture at worse?”

“I can assure you that our planet can sustain a harvest.”

“Is that so?” You raised an eyebrow. “Then how do you explain the countless people that have sought out refuge on Tatooine of all places after a drought or flood have wrecked their whole harvest? Then how do you explain that not even under the merciless regimes before Boba were your planet’s payments ever on time?”

“How dare you insinuate that we cannot pay you?”

“I am voicing my honest concern.” You said, mindful of everyone listening to you. “Your harvests are unreliable and you dare step before Boba with an offer like this?”

The woman shook her head at you. “I will not negotiate with a person who has found their way into the inner circle of the king by looks and no doubt the use of their body alone. I came to negotiate with Boba Fett.”

“Are you saying I used my body to get this position?” You questioned and stood from your place, aware of Boba’s eyes following you. “Or are you trying to deflect from the fact that you are offering a terrible deal?”

“How dare you? You are nothing but a pleasure slave, a common palace whore. And you dare speak to me like this?”

That’s when Boba stood, making everyone back up. The negotiator and her companion shut up, staring up at Boba in anticipation, frightened of what would happen next. He towered over them, his height accentuated by the fact that he stood on the pedestal the throne was placed on.

“How are you speak to my riduur in such a way?” He snapped, voice angry and loud. “And to think you did it because my spouse raised good points is just pathetic. Your planet is not fit for agriculture. You can barely feed your own people. There will be no trade for you with Tatooine!”

“But great Boba Fett--”

“Now leave my sight before I have you dragged out of the palace!”

---

+ I.

People knew that Boba was protective, that he was proud of being your spouse and that he seemed to genuinely care for you. But they also knew that you felt the same way about him. You loved the man, took pride in being his spouse and rarely left his side if you could help it.

Typically you could be found sitting on the throne’s arm, Boba’s lap or standing next to him. You were always trying to be close to him, talk to him or share your love for him. Like a shadow, you were always by his side.

And so you were also by his side when someone tried to assassinate him. It had been a normal day up until the early evening and everyone was gathered in the throne hall. You were as usual by Boba’s side, having long since migrated from the arm of the throne into his lap, idly running your fingers over his armour, head resting against his shoulder as he talked to you about upcoming plans.

The two of you paid little mind to the man that had entered sometime during the evening, assuming him to be another guest, and quickly gotten back to talking. Fennec had started to mingle with the people some time ago, leaving you and Boba to quietly enjoy each other’s company as he overlooked the people.

The stranger came closer to the throne, talking to a man there. You paid him no mind, still running your fingers over Boba’s armour, letting them run up and down his neck periodically as he recounted the meetings ahead.

Your eyes wandered across the room, looking at the man that was still coming closer. Some of the guests noticed the shift in your behaviour, watched as you sat up a little straighter, yet still keeping up your soft ministrations and listening to Boba.

Then, before anyone had even noticed anything, you sprung up from Boba’s lap and grabbed your blaster. No one even had the time to question your motives as you fired at the stranger, hitting his hand and making him drop the blaster he had reached for.

He tried to escape but you fired a shot into his foot, making him fall to his knees by the steps to the throne. Within seconds you were by his side, using your foot to keep in on the ground as the people stared in shock. Boba had risen to his feet and Fennec had come closer now.

“Let me go!”

“Tell me why you were raising your blaster at Boba.” You hissed. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

“I won’t tell you anything.”

Your foot moved, resting on his shoulders now. “You are the worst assassin I have ever had the misfortune of meeting!”

The man struggled against your foot but couldn’t get up. “Let me go!”

Huffing at his request you took your foot off his back. He quickly took the chance to get up but he only got to his knees because you quickly grabbed his arm, twisting it onto his back and then doing the same with the other one. Then you turned him so he could face Boba.

“Did you or did you not come here to assassinate Boba?”

“I-- I was forced to!” The man pleaded. “Please, don’t kill me. I was just-- I was forced to or otherwise, my family would have been in danger!”

“Now there’s the information we can use.” You said and let go of him, nodding at Fennec. “I’m sure Boba would like to question the man himself. Isn’t that right, Cyar’ika?”

Boba looked at you, as surprised by the pet name as he was by your quick reflexes but nodding at Fennec nonetheless. “Bring him to the cells. I will see to him later.”

Fennec nodded and quickly took the man away, glancing back to see you walking up to Boba and taking his face into your hands. Everyone watched as you examined him for any injuries before your shoulders dropped in relief when you found he was fine.

“Thank you for your quick thinking, Mesh’la.”

“All I want is for you to be safe, my love.”

[redbean-nom]

din djarin, age 10: clone wars refugee child

boba fett, age 11: in federal prison for destroying an entire venator while trying to kill mace windu

[lunarbreaksblog]

Imagine being Boba Fett's spouse

The gifts he'd get for you, since bounty hunting does pay quite a bit. How he'd take time out of his day to find you gifts that reflect the planet the bounty was on.

How he would listen to you explain your favourite things to him.

How he'd come to you when he needs comfort during the night from the nightmares that haunt him

People would think he's not married but then he'd mention you and his visor would just seem to brighten at the thought of you. His voice would be lighter and happier as well.

How he had agreed to Jabba's bounty, since he promised you that be his last one and then you two would go and start a family of your own.

Unfortunately he never comes back

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 31

Boba Fett + Oral fixation

Finally finishing up kinktober, thank you all for sticking around, hopefully my studies will be less hectic next year.

Kinktober 2023 masterlist.

Boba Fett was a man of action, even now as the ruler of Tatooine, he rarely had much time where he wasn’t doing one thing or another. He may not be running around the galaxy as one of the best bounty hunters out there, but being a ruler still came with many duties.

That was why he enjoyed the days where the sandstorms ran across the desert planet, as no work could be done of those days, and no one would find their way to the palace for an audience. It also meant he got to spend time with you, his lover and companion, his riduur.

You were both busy men, where Boba had retired from bounty hunting, you had not, though you had gone down in time. Nowadays you mainly did it to keep active, and to keep in contact with old allies, or people you owed Boba and you favours, making sure they knew you hadn’t forgotten.

Boba let out a groan as he leaned back against the many pillows you had stacked on your shared bed, both of your armour having been removed a long time ago and placed on their stands near the door. His strong hand ran through your hair where you were settled between his thighs. There was no hurry in what you two were doing, the craving for orgasm wasn’t even weighing on either of you.

There were times you two just needed this after being apart for a while, it made you feel closer in a way. Boba could lay back and flick through different holo-movies he had saved, or holo-novels, stuff that he had had to put off because of his duties. And as he did this, you would lay or kneel comfortably between his thighs, lips wrapped around his cock as it rested heavily on your tongue.

Most times he wouldn’t even be hard, just basking in the comfortable warmth of your mouth as you breathed peacefully, hands resting comfortably on his thick and powerful scarred thighs. At times you would trace the scars on his body, those left by his life as a bounty hunter or from the sarlacc pit.

For a long time, Boba had been self-conscious of those scars, even as you worshipped them with your hungry mouth and tongue and praise fell thick from your lips. He still felt that way at times, but it was less and less these days. Maybe it was old age, or you were just both growing comfortable in the less stressful life you both had stumbled across.

You had always craved things in your mouth, even when you were both young bounty hunters and making names for yourself, back when your relationship was a little more kink based than love. Back then Boba had been your dom and you his sub, and you had followed his rules or been punished. And he had used your need for something in your mouth many times, from his fingers, to his cock, to his blaster, the list went on.

But as you both grew older, especially after you thought he had died to the sarlacc, the old dynamic bled away completely and became fullhearted and deep love. The old roles you played were still used at times, but they only truly came forward in the bedroom. According to your allies you both acted like an old married couple, and truly, you were.

Boba felt you sigh out your nose between his thighs, your form wiggling a bit to get into a more comfortable position. Checking the time, he could see it had been over an hour, and he had worked his way through a good chunk of his novel, so he put his pad away on the side table.

Your awareness bled back into your body little by little as he started petting your hand, his deep rough voice speaking softly to you to get you back into your body. When your eyes met, and Boba could see you were fully aware, he used his careful grip on your hair to pull you off his still soft cock, leading you to crawl up into his arms.

You both fell back against the pillows, pushing a couple of them around to get comfortable as Boba pulls you to his chest, mumbling sweet words in Mando‘a as you laid against him, resting your head against his shoulder.

He kisses the top of your head as he pulls the pad back into his hands, flicking through it to find the series you had both gotten interested in. Something old, from before the clone wars, but it had its charm. After he set it to play, he chuckled softly as you pulled his hand close to your mouth, sucking two of his thick fingers into your mouth. There was nothing lewd about the act, it was just another way you two shared your closeness. He rubbed the fingers across your tongue, before letting them brush the back of your throat before going limp, letting you do as you pleased as the show played at a comfortably low volume. There truly was nothing like snowstorm days.

[saradika]

— JUST A TASTE

[bleed for me masterlist] | [fic preview]

vampire!boba fett x f!reader

rated e - 8k

tags: vampire!au, blood/blood drinking, vampirism, longing and pining, biting, masturbation, chosen mates (instead of fated mates), teasing, fingering, brief edging, mind-meld, implied aphrodisiacs, piv, marking

a/n: I thought it would be fun to write a halloween one-shot for Boba, in the same world as bleed for me. This is with a different Reader, so there are some references to the series, but you don't have to read to enjoy!

When Fennec Shand appears in town with her new red eyes, everyone knows it’s only a matter of time before the Daimyo will be seeking a new Companion.

Luckily, you think you know just how to make sure he picks you.

Heat still lingers in your neck, your cheeks, as you slip from your tiny cottage to rush to the town square.

Cursing yourself for almost being late to the ceremony - a long table already in place within the old tavern, moved to the middle of the room. The old wood and stone ceiling blocking out the setting sun, making it safe.

He’s there. Your eyes find him right away - all that green against the shades of brown and grey.

The Daimyo.

Positioned at the head of the table, that helmet fixed in place. Looking like a ruler with the way he sits - so strong and straight-backed in the velvet chair, brought out just for him. It sends a shiver up your spine as you slip to the back, to give your own offering.

A small goblet, brought from home. The carvings in the wood smooth, burnished from the press of your fingers over the years. Curving petals worn down at the edges - traced over with your thumb, again and again.

It’s dull, next to all the gold and glass. The candles glinting off the gifts that line the long table - an ache still throbbing in the crook of your elbow, as yours joins the flight of others.

It's warm, in the tavern. Fuller than you've ever seen - bodies packed together. Your back presses against the thick wooden wall, standing on tip-toe to see over the pair in front of you.

Wanting to watch when that helmet lifts.

The tanned skin beneath, those red eyes that flicker in the candlelight. It's a rarity to see him this bare. Something precious that you tuck away, as your eyes rove over every detail.

You think he must be starving, from the dark shadows under his eyes. You can count back two months as to when Lady Shand had stopped walking through the marketplace in the day. Appearing again in her oil-blackened armor - a new, deadly quiet about her.

Everyone had known she would turn.

It had only been a matter of time.

Secrets were hard to keep, in a town as small as this.

You still had some. Others had theirs. Most you did not care about, but when it came to the coven of vampires, in their looming castle at the top of the tall hill - it had always been a fascination.

How beautiful - how benevolent - they are.

A hush settles over the crowd, as the first cup is lifted. Restraint shown in the tip of the glass, the single bobbing swallow of his throat as he drinks.

He could gorge. He could swallow every drop, but there's a carefulness in the way he moves.

Continuing the old tradition of the town - one that the Mand'alor had not followed. But after hearing of his searching - the path that had been so set for him - none of you could begrudge his choice.

The first goblet is placed back down.

His methods are unknown - he had arrived at the castle with Lady Shand by his side, already his Companion.

Would taste from each one?

Or stop, if one is pleasing to him?

Your odds are not in your favor, with the amount of offerings. Nothing stands out about your goblet - you had no gold, no bronze. Only an heirloom and yourself.

Fifth from the end, of a line of people who all had their own reasons to want to uproot their lives. Fortune. Pleasure. Running to something, or running from.

But did any of them see him for who he was? Like you did?

You don’t really care that he was a Daimyo, not really.

He could be anyone - a lesser lord. A commoner, like yourself.

Your wishes would stay the same.

It was what he had done, that had made Boba Fett a fixture in your mind.

To him, perhaps it had been a small thing.

Not worth remembering, in the life of someone who has lived for so long, with such experiences. Barely a blip, compared to the stories you'd heard.

Bounty Hunting and Rancors and Sarlaacs.

But to you, it had meant everything.

He had saved you.

Not in such a way as the Mand'alor had done for his Queen. That sort of saving would be written in song or word, someday, with the way the story was whispered in the streets.

There had been no witches, no fated meetings. No burned towns for Lord Fett to pull you from, to whisk you away to safety. No enemies torn apart, in revenge.

But it had been no less chivalrous.

It had been early in the day, and luckily so. Mid-morning and he would not have been out, not with what he was.

A few weeks into Spring, when your little stall in the market should have been blooming with your home-grown flowers, baskets of vegetables from your leased garden.

A late frost and a family of hungry rabbits had you far behind. On goods to sell and your payment for your use of the space. The few coins you had from the week before clutched in your fist as Lord Gorian Shard had loomed over you, demanding more than what you could spare.

Cutting down your promises to pay him back, if you could just have another week - a day, even. Deaf to your pleas.

You knew what you owed, but it hadn't been fair. Everyone knew he charged far too much for his stalls. But you had been desperate then, almost as much as you had been now.

A shadow had loomed, as every last silver and copper had been shaken from your coin purse. Tucked away into deep pockets, the pitiful amount added to what he already carried.

"Is there an issue here, Shard?"

The voice had cut through the morning haze was one you thought of often, the low timber. Slicing, like a knife.

You're sure you looked pathetic. Shard's hand gripping your forearm, pinching. The half-filled stall, the dust covering your tunic - swiped across your forehead from the back of your hand, while setting up.

But, the grip had loosened. And for the first time, the Merchant had lost some of his aloof, elitist air. A flash of worry crossing his features, as a Mandalorian had approached from the shadows.

His face had been covered, since dawn had broken - but there had been no mistaking him.

Boba Fett.

"No issue, my lord." Gorian Shard had smiled, his voice changing from the sharp tone he had used with you, "Just business, I assure you. Far too small for someone as busy as yourself, I'm sure."

There was a rough buzz from the helmet, the sound of a hum.

"How much more is owed?"

It became clear he had been listening. You hadn't looked to the shadows, and your heart had sunk. Embarrassment creeping around you, tightening like vines around your ribs.

“Fifty more gold." Shard had sniffed, making a show of checking his pockets.

Another hum, "A little early to be collecting payments, isn't? The quarter isn't for another month."

Shard had frowned, "I collect monthly, thank you."

Silence lingered then, for a moment too long. That worn green helmet flicked you way - your eyes only able to hold it for a moment, before they dropped. Examining the worn toes of your boots, wondering what he must think of you.

"Give us a moment."

You had thought he meant you - getting ready to step away, to give them some space.

Not expecting the helmet to snap towards the Merchant, as another order was growled out, "Did you not hear me, Shard?"

He had been too happy to oblige, quickly finding another debtor three stalls over.

You had also not expected the soft pouch of leather to be held out, pressed into your hands from Lord Fett's own belt.

Far heavier than your own, and you had immediately found the strength to meet his gaze again - to hand the gift back.

"I can't accept this." You had protested, "It is far too much, I can't pay this back."

He had considered you, for a long moment. You had wished you could see his face - your own reflected back at you. Pinched and worried and tired.

Pivoting gracefully, as he turned to look at your stall, "If you will not accept my help, then I wish to purchase your stock. Everything you have."

It's an out, for you. Another gift, a way to accept with what little dignity you had left intact.

Even if you were both aware that he had no use for your ware. That vampires did not dine on the food of humans. That the kitchens within the castle were already stocked with the finest goods available.

The gold had been offered, again. His voice low - almost gentle.

"Please do me this honor, my lady."

This bit of kindness, his voice, his honorifics - as if your presence had meant something, as if he truly considered this a favor to him - had stunned you. Enough that you had allowed him to press the pouch into your hand.

Enough that you had allowed the woman that had stepped to his side to pack up the flowers, the vegetables. Every single piece until your stall was as empty as it was, when you had arrived that morning.

Shard had watched, with narrowed eyes.

But - your debt had been paid. This month, and then the next. And then the next.

You began to look forward to his visits. Not for the gold, of course, but for him. The snippets of conversation - the solemn way he checked on you, the low timbre of his voice.

“Have you been treated well?”

“Is this enough?”

You’re sure you had looked foolish. Ankles crossing as you leaned across the booth. Trying to hide your smile but failing, as you protested. A game, you had played.

Always the same questions, the same answers.

“I can’t stop you from buying my wares… but I don’t want a copper more, my Lord.”

His fingers tapping twice on the wooden stall, before his reply.

“As you wish.”

Boba's kindness had changed your life.

The coin used to buy better seeds. Your little, rented home slowly filling out with warm bedding and good food and sturdy clothes - things you had always scrambled to find. Luxuries, before now.

And for a while, you had entertained the thought of leaving town. Saving up every gold piece, starting a new life.

You almost had enough.

But that had been before Lady Shand had turned. Before the rumors had spread that Boba Fett would be seeking a new Companion.

Your heart had twisted, with the news.

Jealousy. Longing.

It could be you.

He had become a fixture in your mind. Your evenings filled with daydreams. Keeping you company as you worked, dirt caking under your fingernails, as you imagined another life.

You could pay him back, in a ways. Show him how grateful you were, offering your blood - yourself - in exchange. You never would have dared hope before but this… this was worth trying, wasn’t it?

So, you did something risky.

Hoping it would pay off.

Hoping that perhaps… your feelings were not so singular.

It feels like you're holding your breath, as Boba moves down the table. Those cups handed over so carefully. That same, single taste from each one.

There's a tick of his jaw, at some. A pink peek of tongue dragging over a lower lip. No tells in his expression, no indication on where his mind leads.

And then, finally - he's at yours.

The wooden goblet hefted in his hand, his thumb brushing unconsciously over the etchings, like yours always did. Your fingernails biting into your palms, your heart pounding in your ears, an ache settling low in your belly - much like the one before, as you had been preparing.

And with the tip of a hand, he drinks.

The goblet lowers, as he swallows. A waver of his hand, as makes to set it back down to rejoin the others.

But then.... he pauses.

A lift of his brow, a slow tilt back - as he indulges in a second.

Before his eyes are sweeping across the room. Halting, when they find yours. The smallest lift of his lips, with his look of knowing.

Your cheeks burn, as he chooses you.

Everything happens so quickly.

Before you know it, you’re hoisted into a horse - whisked off to the castle that looms at the top of the hill. A promise to bring your things to you, though you’re sure it would take less than a wagonful.

Barely able to glance down the long halls, the ornate, stained glass windows, before there’s a hand at your elbow, guiding you.

A woman, younger than you. Quelling some of the unease at being in a new place with her gentle tone, as she takes you deep into the castle - up a wide stone staircase, through an ornate wooden door, and into a room.

It doesn’t appear to be his room, and you don’t know if you’re relieved or disappointed.

Bathed in shades of green and red and gold. Dark velvet curtains against the closed windows, blocking out the last rays of the sun.

Your guide parts from you here, a murmur that the ceremony will begin at sundown - that she will be back then to help you get ready.

Leaving you on your own to explore the space, until then.

A tall bed takes up the middle of the back wall, the frame a dark, carved wood. Thick blankets in tones of ivory and a rich forest green, lit candles on the wooden tables on either side.

There’s long wardrobe against the wall, the mirror glinting in the light. A ceramic vase painted with swirls of copper, roses and wildflowers spilling over the brim.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that some of the flowers almost looked familiar.

A door is half-opened to the left, next to the fireplace, the velvet chaise sitting in front of it. Already a thought lingers about how cozy the space will be in the winter, as you pad over to glance into the next room.

It’s all ceramic tile inside, opening up to a bathroom, The claw-foot copper tub filling with steaming water, and you long to slip into it, to wash the morning’s dirt from your knees.

And so, you do.

Your stripped clothes lie in a pile on the floor. A pleased hiss as you step into the water, the temperature tipping towards too hot. Sinking deep, up to your chin, as your head tips back against the rim.

It gives you time to think, as you all but float in the water.

Giddy, at the replay of the afternoon. That it had worked.

The way he had gone back, an indulgence. He had liked it - the taste of you - and that thought was thrilling.

A warmth settling in your bones, that had nothing to do with the water.

Picking apart the look in his eyes, where you felt certain he had been searching for you. It leaves you confident that your feelings had not changed.

The water is cold and you’re scrubbed clean by the time you leave. Lotions found on the countertop smoothed into your skin, the tired joints of your knuckles.

Fingers trace over the rack of robes you find next to the door. Soft silks and thick cotton and gauzy, see-through chiffon. Your cheeks burn at the thought, as you pull one out to hold it against you.

Imaging the red fabric against your skin. How little of you it would hide, in spite of it swishing around your ankles.

Eventually, you settle on something between the two - modest enough that you won’t be embarrassed to see your guide again.

Intentionally choosing something that reminds you of him - shades of green with thin, gold trim. The tie knotted carefully around your waist, skimming your thighs. The sleeves gathered at your forearms, the silky feeling luxurious against your scrubbed skin.

By the time you make it back to the bedroom, the edges around the curtains are dark - the sun long set. The blankets soft - the mattress dipping as you sit down on the edge, still taking in the room.

A knock comes, soon after. The gentle rapping of knuckles against the door - heavy as you pull it open.

Something flipping low in your belly, when you see your visitor.

Not the pleasant girl, who had chattered as she guided you up the steps. Smiling, as she bid you farewell.

It’s him.

Boba lingers outside your door, so unlike you’ve ever seen before. Clothed in black robes, his Beskar chest plate fitted on top. Your eyes follow down, seeing gloves and gauntlets, but no helmet - before you realize you’re staring. Your gaze quickly snapping up to his, already caught.

There’s a twitch of his lips. His own eyes wandering, though you missed them in your own exploration.

His voice low, amused as he asks, “May I come in?”

Heat licks at your skin as you nod - nerves skittering down your spine, at this unexpected development. Stepping back to allow him inside.

Ending up at the end of the bed again, your palms pressing into the bedspread to keep you from fidgeting.

“Is this room to your liking?” Boba asks, conversationally.

So casually, so pleasantly, that you’re frowning. Confused at his appearance. Assuming that he had come to feed - that he’d grown tired of waiting, his patience now thin.

“It’s beautiful,” You answer, honestly. Far finer than any room you’d seen before. The bath already feels like a dream, even though the perfume still lingers in your skin, “You are again too generous.”

“It is my pleasure.” His voice is low, his hands bracing against the chaise he stands behind, “By far the least I can do.”

A nod to your new situation. This new connection, binding you together. You knew about the ritual in the tavern, from the whispers from the Companions that visited your stall.

Flowers woven into their hair as they gossiped, your eager ears picking up everything you could.

But this, now, was unknown to you.

Was he just getting to know you? Or was there another step you were missing?

“Thank you, Lord Fett,” You smile. Fingers pinching at the blanket, gathering your nerves. A breath, before you can ask, “Are we… are we to begin now? I was told there would another ceremony.”

“Just Boba, please.” He clarifies, after a beat of silence - those dark eyes still fixed on you. That eye contact still holding, as his head tilts, “And yes, there is a ritual. When conducted, it takes place in front of the coven.”

It’s not an unpleasant thought. There’s something primal about such a ritual - the thought of him claiming you in front of his friends and peers.

Images leap to your mind, unbidden. Your imagining of the throne room, filled to the brim. Gathered up in his arms, the expanse of your neck appears as he dips you. Baring legs, baring arms, baring throat.

The flash of teeth, as they sink into your skin-

It takes another second, before you can gather your thoughts. Clearing your throat, as you ask, “Is that what you wish?”

“That would depend.” His steps are slow, as he rounds the chaise. Hands clasped behind his back, the green armor accentuating his broad chest.

“On?”

There’s the flash of teeth as he smiles, “On if you’re planning on changing.”

Heat flares in your cheeks, at the thought of your appearance. Acutely aware of the single layer that covers you, just a loose knot keeping the robe in place.

Is Boba Fett flirting with me?

Before you can answer, his head turns, “This ritual is more symbolic than binding. Any true decisions are made behind doors. We can continue here, if you’d like.”

You nod slowly. The thought of having him to yourself appealing, especially for the first night. A twinge of worry about the feeding - the crook of your arm still tender from where you were pricked to fill the goblet.

Not wanting to appear weak. Not wanting your desires to be laid out, exposed in front of everyone.

“I would not mind that.” You confess, “What kind of decisions do you mean?”

“There are many we can discuss.” His look turns thoughtful, “For one, your stall. If it is gold that brought you here, I would purchase it from Shard for you. You need not do this.”

That makes you blink - the offer kind. An unexpected, altruistic turn.

“No. That’s not why.” Your head shakes, “I’m here on my own. I wanted to-”

Your words cut off, afraid to say too much. A breath, before you add, “I have little other ties here. It was not the stall that brought me to the tavern."

Something in his face changes, a softening to that ever-steady mark between his brows. Those hands still clasped, as if stilling them, as he moves closer, “Are you not bound to another, ad’ika?”

“Do you mean a soulmate?” The question makes you blink - a little frown forming.

There were no marks on your skin. No ties to another, painted where their body had first touched yours.

You could find out. You want to joke, but it stays trapped on your tongue. A moment, before you shake your head.

“No.” A small breath, as you steel yourself, “I don’t believe in them.”

His expression flickers now - you’ve caught him off guard.

“You don’t believe? The Mand’alor has often walked the town streets with his. Do you doubt their connection?”

Curiosity tinges his words, and your head shakes again, “They were lucky, I think. And I think fate works for some. Just… not me.”

It’s as honest as you’ve ever been. Maybe he’ll laugh at you… but just maybe - he’ll understand.

Perhaps it had been luck that morning, when he found you. But fate hadn’t made him kind.

That had been all him.

And perhaps luck had also turned Lady Shand before you left - but it was you who had gone to the Tavern, goblet in hand. You who had leaned into his visits, tucking away each one.

“I’d like to think that I make my own decisions. That my own choices determine my path.”

“And is that what you’ve done?” He rasps, his eyes dark, “Made your choice?”

Your breath hitches at his tone, smooth and low. Managing a short, little nod in answer - not trusting ability to keep your voice level.

“Not all bonding is mates, little one.” He’s closer now. Enough that you can see the fine weave of his robes - the chips in his armor where a sword had peeled away the paint, “You know that, right?”

Your heart pounds in your ears - ignoring his question, as you manage to ask your own, “What do you want?”

His head cocks, the candlelight catching his eyes. That burgundy shimmer darkening. You find yourself holding your breath as you wait for his answer. Watching the way his lips pull in a smile, revealing the sharp points of his teeth.

“Oh, what do I want?” He repeats, slowly, softly. “I want you to show me what you did to make your blood so sweet.”

His voice drops then, as he moves closer, “And then I want to taste you for myself.”

Your breath comes in a ragged gasp. He knew?

The whispered rumor about making your blood near irresistible had been trusted, but you never thought he’s be able to tell.

His laugh is soft, “Are you getting shy on me now, sarad?”

Heat licks at you, embarrassment and desire swirling together into a heady combo. Your thoughts slipping between your teeth on their own, “How did you…”

Boba clucks his tongue, “It’s been a while, little one. But not that long.”

That snags in your mind, your attention shifting. You frown, fingers twisting around the silk ties of your robe, “What do you mean?”

His eyebrow lifts.

There were rumors that Lord Fett and the now Lady Shand were not romantically linked. But it had never been confirmed, and part of you had worried you were going to end up in a precarious position.

Not that you minded sharing.

“You’re stalling.” He chides again, “If I misunderstood, then-”

“You didn’t.” You’re quick to correct, the band of silk pinching around your fingers, “I’m just surprised, that’s all.”

His lips quirk at your answer, your boldness. An arm braces on the foot post of the canopy bed, close enough that your thigh brushes his hip.

“It has been a decade since I’ve drank from the throat of a creature as lovely as you.” His hand lifts, the back of his knuckle brushing against your neck.

No mark blooms under his touch, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You don’t need one to want him, or to love him. All you need is your heart - beating so fiercely, as that knuckle drags down to the hollow of your throat.

His fingers unfurling until the tips drag against your sternum, as your heart drops to beat between your thighs.

In a moment of bravery, your fingers tug on the tie. The knot loosing, and then pooling around your hips as the edges of your robe part, falling open.

His eyes follow, tracing your curves as they come into view. The rich fabric like a caress against your bare skin as you shift further back on the bed. Legs uncrossing as he steps between them - forcing them to nudge wider.

Heat pools in your belly, with his proximity. The knowledge that he truly intends to watch - close enough that his fingers could brush your skin, with how he bends - pressing his palms against the mattress.

Framing your thighs, as you lower yourself to your elbows. Nearly on display, the fabric still bunching at your waist, keeping you hidden.

If you hadn’t thought about him so often, perhaps you’d be a little more shy. But there was something so intoxicating about this. So honest and earnest in his tone - making you believe that because he said it so, he truly wanted to see you.

And you wouldn’t deny your Lord of anything.

Your eyes flip up to his, watching how he waits. Those hands still pressed flush, as his eyes rake over your form - an attempt to keep his hands from wandering.

But yours are not to tied down. Yours drift - trailing along the soft green hem. Down, towards the valley between your breasts.

It has you wondering if he can hear the way your heart kicks up a notch. At your touch, your intentions.

You think he must, with the way he shifts between your thighs, waiting.

The silky fabric pebbles at the tight peaks of your breasts. Soft as your fingertips run across them - a creak of his leather gloves with your soft sigh, as his fingers curl into the bedspread.

His eyes darker still, as you let your robe part further. Knuckles pinching, dragging over bare skin before drifting towards your navel. An urge to press your thighs together, an ache at the thought of things to come. At his words, already given.

There’s a rough noise, something gritted out that you miss, when the robe parts fully. When Boba can see you fully, his eyes dropping to where you’re slick already. Swollen and soft and warm, a pink tongue peeking out between sharp teeth at the sight.

A half-formed thought to tease - fingers parting yourself open. Your strokes slow, to dip slowly into your heat.

But it feels impossible to do so, with him watching. The second you slip against your skin, you’re sighing - quick to press and circle, your hips jolting into your touch.

He knows it’s for him. You can’t even pretend you’re still wet from before - those hours and that long, warm bath passing between then and now.

No, it’s his words. His voice, those suggestions.

Him.

From this angle he can surely see how you shine already. Knees pressing into his hips as your muscles clench, toes curling.

Can he see how your pulse thuds? How your blood races down, to where you ache?

The press of your fingers makes you whine, eyes taking in the expanse of his chest. Flicking down to where his hand rotates, gloved fingers touching down on the bed - moving to press against the curve of your thigh.

He watches your fingers, the way they press. Memorizing what makes your muscles clench, the soft sounds of your sighs.

You want his hands on you - to feel the strength of them for yourself. Molding you into his image, to touch you however he wishes.

To take you, as he tastes you.

It has your leg pressing into his touch, teeth biting into your tongue to keep you from begging.

“You want something.” His voice is soft, his eyes unreadable, “I can feel it, radiating from you.”

The air hisses through your teeth, sparks of pleasure pulsing where your fingers press. Slowing and stuttering at his words.

“You,” The word is sighed out, your eyes meeting his dark ones, “I want you.”

He smiles then, and it’s almost cruel. Teasing.

His hands curving around your thighs, moving slowly against your skin. Up until his thumbs are brushing against your inner thighs, nudging them wider apart.

“You managed just fine, before.” There’s a lilt to his voice, the raise of an eyebrow, “Or did you have some help?”

Your fingers slow as your brows knit, distracted by his question. How his fingers bump against yours, so close to where you burn - but still not touching.

“No,” Your head shakes, “I didn’t.”

I just thought of you, you want to tell him. I thought about this.

“Good.” He husks, and his hands leave you. A little whine slipping past your lips as he brings a hand to his mouth - using his teeth to rip the gloves from his fingers, “I only want your blood singing for me.”

It makes you clench, lips parting just in him for him to arch over you - a bare hand flattening against the bed near your ear. The other dipping between your lips when they part for him, sliding past blunt teeth.

You groan around him, cool and solid as they slip across your tongue. His eyes growing darker as your lips close around to suck, his thumb stroking the underside of your chin.

It’s bliss. Your mouth so beautifully full and busy as your fingers work, aiding your steady ascent towards euphoria.

All too soon they slide from you, leaving your lips glossy. Trailing down your chin, before dropping to fit between your thighs.

He didn’t need to, you’re already so wet. The tip of index finger slipping beneath yours, teasing at your opening. Sliding into you easily as you arch into his touch, feeling the fullness of having him in you. Already a bit of a stretch, and you squirm at the thought of more.

“So warm and wet.” His tone is almost reverent, his eyes dropping to your mouth, “I’d almost forgotten.”

Watching how you pant as his finger plunges deep, the pull of your brow as he slips from you, only to fit two inside with his next thrust.

Angling his wrist so he can curl them inside you, stroking against slick walls - finding a place that had your breath coming in a ragged gasp.

You’re close already. It had been easy, with him so close. Looking at you so hungrily, as you brought yourself closer. The feel of his fingers, filling and stroking you, teasing against that spot, has your muscles winding tight.

Boba shifts, leaning back. The hand pressing against the bed moves to wrap around your wrist, halting the needy circle of your fingers.

Your mounting pleasure plateaus, a frustrated sound in your throat. His fingers still fucking you, but that sharp edge slips from your grasp.

“Slower.” He rasps, pinning your hand down. Only allowing the tips of your fingers to each, “Need to get you ready for me. Is that what you want?”

“Yes.” You moan - automatically, without thought.

The thought makes you tighten around his, squeezing his fingers. His smile pulls to show sharp teeth, the slick slap of his fingers loud where they press into your pussy.

“Gods, I can feel you. Do you want it that bad, ad’ika?”

Your mind swirls, the weight of your tongue making it impossible to answer. Even with the tiny flick of your fingers, you can feel the pleasure in your belly start to crackle and burn.

That pressure increasing, each breath no more than a high gasp. Your vision starting to grow blurry, eyes heavy with lust, all of your concentration focused on the sweet spot between your thighs.

His name is torn from your throat, as you come when three fingers fit inside you. Crooking and stroking against your walls as you bear down around them, as he can feel how you pulse.

It drowns out your pleasure from before - hurried movements in the privacy of your home. You’re alight now - basking in the low hum of his words. Blurring at the edges, slipping through your fingers.

Fuck, that’s it.

My sarad, bloom for me.

Can’t wait to taste you.

The hand lets go to press against your hip, pinning you down. Making you take the steady pump of his fingers, as he draws it out.

“You can. Can taste me-” You gasp, your own fingers now still. A twinge that tips towards too much, as you grasp at his wrist. His hand staying buried in you, as his other curls around the back of your neck.

You brace for the bite, as your head tilts to offer your throat. Know it was coming from the start - eager to offer yourself in every way you could.

Not expecting the way he leans over you again. The ghost of warm breath before the press of his mouth against your pulse. Inhaling your scent as your heart flutters in your throat, the haze of your orgasm settling over you.

A rough sound as you moan, as he moves higher. Teeth nipping at your jaw. Realization swirling as there’s the hungry press of his mouth against yours - your own hands scraping across armor, grasping at his robes.

Curling around his shoulder to hold him to you, as you melt further. His lips are soft - yours are already parted, welcoming the dip of his tongue. Your legs hitching around his waist as his weight presses into you.

It’s comforting. It’s enveloping - your sigh swallowed as his hand slips from you. Pulling back from your mouth, as your head rising to chase after him.

Meeting those fingers instead - slick with your release, pressing against your lower lip. His own tongue swirling against one, as you share the others.

Your teeth graze, bite down on his fingers. His groan low as mouths meet again - with your taste on his tongue, with his hips pressing down against yours. Grinding himself against your bare skin, where you can feel the hard curve of his arousal.

“See how good you taste?” He rasps, lips brushing your cheek. “Fuck, can’t get enough.”

His arm curls around your waist, slick fingers shoving between mattress and your back. Lifting you like you’re nothing, with his enhanced strength. A flip in your belly and a little yelp, before you’re set back down.

Boba’s back rests against the ornate headboard. Your thighs spread wide around his waist, straddling him. The soft robe you wear dips down across your back, the fabric nestled in the crook of your elbows.

Hands splay across his chest, cool skin and hard muscle beneath. His eyes on the expanse of your skin - the slope from your neck, to your bare breasts beneath. That hand anchoring the back of your neck again, thumb sweeping the soft spot beneath your ear.

His eyes burn. Glittering embers in their depth, the sharp points of his teeth showing between parted lips. Something inside you stirs - know deep down that he truly means to taste you now.

To drink from you, as your head tilts back to offer the soft skin of your throat.

“It will hurt, a little.” He warns, voice low. Rough, as if he’s holding himself back, “But I’ll make you feel good. I promise, mesh’la.”

Your fingers twist in his robes. Eyes fluttering shut, as you wait for it to come.

But he has one last request, an edge to his voice that that fixes your attention.

“Keep your eyes open for me.”

It’s your last warning, before he’s leaning forward. The soft brush of his lips against your jugular, before he’s biting down.

There’s twin pinches, as your skin gives beneath his teeth. A burning throb as you gasp - unable to help the way you flinch, stiffening in his arms.

He groans against your neck as you flood his tongue, and there’s the sensation of pulling, the soft suck of his mouth.

But the pain does not linger. It soon bleeds into something more, that sharp edge twisting and transforming. That thudding in your neck tipping downwards. Past your chest, past your belly.

Nestling between your thighs with a very different kind of ache. One that has you shifting against him, the roll of your hips as he keeps you pinned with his teeth.

The robes he wears are thin. Not ones that go beneath his armor during the day, or to travel. Soft and fine as your fingers curl into the fabric at his shoulders.

Not at all concealing his need for you, something that stretches deeper than the urge to drink. Boba is stiff beneath you, his hardness trapped beneath the layers of cloth and your bare cunt.

Each squirm presses him against you. Something flickering in your mind, a sort of mirror to your pleasure. It feels like it strings out, wrapping around your limbs, tethering you together.

His teeth unlatch, when you reach down. A desire from deep inside to touch him, fingers sliding against fabric. Dampened from you, from the slide of your hips, the way you feel like you will burst, if he’s not inside you.

“Taste so godsdamn sweet.” He groans, tongue tracing over the marks on your neck. Where the blood still beads out, sweetened by your orgasm, “Knew it was yours, the moment it touched my tongue.”

Pulling back, to bring his mouth to yours again. He tastes like iron, like you - as your hand curls around him. Achingly hard under your touch, as your fingers trace down the curve of him, finding the edge of his robes.

“Fuck. You can have it, ad’ika. It’s yours if you want it.” His eyes are brighter, those shadows under his eyes less defined.

Hips lifting so you can draw him out, so smooth and heavy in your hand. On another day you’d want to stroke it yourself, feel the weight of it on your tongue. But you’re too desperate now. Already rising up on your knees, the robe parting like curtains at your hips.

The kiss breaks and there’s a soft protest as you line yourself up. Not for you to stop, for you to slow - merely for to take your time.

Though there is no desire to. The time you’ve already taken feels far too long, in this moment.

His hands move - sliding down to your hips. Resting there as you take him, the sharp stretch has the thick head parts you, as you slip down onto his cock. Even with the stretch of his fingers, it still feels like too much. A ragged gasp as your nails sink into his skin, though the fabric of his robes.

It twines with the pulse in your throat. Your fluttering heartbeat, the way you make room for him to fit inside you. His thick fingers flexing against bare skin as he bottoms out, as your thighs finally rest against his.

“Gods, you feel so good-” You keen - as you go still, for a long moment.

Breath caught in your throat, eyes widened as he watches. He shifts beneath you, the flexing of his legs as they stretch out beneath you. It moves him - a shallow thrust deep in your belly. That pleasure sparking, blending with the buzzing of your blood in your veins. Another roll of your hips, and then another.

Hands unfurling, slipping up to brace on his shoulders. Using them to aid your movements - the slow lift and drop that speeds up, as you get used to the feeling of him inside you. The way each stroke sends him against your walls.

His eyes are hazy - blood-drunk off you. Muscles strung tight as he lets you set the pace. Bouncing on his cock until you tire yourself out, until you beg for him to help you. Holding himself back, as your blood lingers on his tongue.

Your thighs burn with the effort. Head dipping down to see where he watches, the lounge of his shoulders against the headboard. How pretty you look, stretch around him. Something so fitting about how bare you are, against his layers - the edge of his armor, that bites into your wrists.

His fingers drift down from your hip, around the curve of your thigh. The pad of his thumb pressing against your clit again.

Following the rise and fall of your hips, circling against you the way he had watched yours move.

You swear you feel him throb in you, when his eyes raise. Lingering on your chest, the sticky smear of crimson against your skin - an errant drop from his eager drinking.

It’s then, that the scales tip. His body moving against yours - a hand wrapping around your back. The shift of his hips as he lurches forward, until it’s you that is pinned beneath him, back pressed against the mattress.

He’s deeper like this. Hips snapping into yours, as you cry out. Head dipping down, his tongue dragging against your clavicle. Down, to lap the trail blood from your skin as he groans.

You back arching into his touch as he presses open-mouthed kisses against your breast, a soft cry as his fingers find the other, trapping the tight bud between his knuckles.

“Could feel how much you wanted this.” His voice is a low rasp. Your thighs wrapping around him as he ruts into you. A circle of his hips grinding against your clit, slick and swollen from your connection.

Feeding off him, in your own way. Something sweet and heavy slipping through your veins. Your skin feels too sensitive - all your nerves alight under his touch. Head tilting back against the blankets as his weight settles over you.

As that feeling builds up again, faster this time. Racing, with the stretch of his cock. The way his hips roll back. Leaving you to clench around the tip, before plowing back in.

You’d never considered your mortality before, but it flickers in your mind now. Just how delicate you feel. A true vampire lord, able to crush you if he wanted.

Instead, he touches you gently - as his hand finds your wrist, his fingers curling around. A swipe of his thumb against your skin as he reaches to pin it against the bed. The other tucking beneath you, cupping the back of your neck again.

It sends another wave of heat between your thighs. The pound of his cock even louder than the press of his fingers, your slick arousal audible - layering with your cries.

There’s a warning on the tip of your tongue - the words coming out slurred instead. A soft, panting groan. Your heels digging into his lower back, eyes fluttering shut as he grinds himself against the spot he had found with his fingers.

“Twice wasn’t enough, ad’ika? Going to come again?” You can hear the grin in his words How it’s an inevitability, with the way he moves in you.

Unable to look away, with the way he holds you. Not that you’d want you, you think - even if you could. The fix of his gaze feels like a gift, bestowed upon you.

Captivating, with the way he soaks in every minute movement. The sweep of his eyes as he watches you start to fall apart beneath him.

You want to feel him again. That pounding surge inside your veins, that sensation of feeling even more connected than you already are.

So, you beg him for it. Eyes heavy-lidded where they find his. Your words punctuated with the hitching of your breath as you guide him down to your throat, with eager hands.

“Bite me. You can, I’m yours-”

Your pleas are impossible to resist, when his own pleasure thrumming in his belly.

He bites higher, this time. In a spot that even your tallest collar won’t hide, teeth pricking skin. Your cry turns into a groan as the rapture courses through you, seeping into your veins. Flooding his tongue, as he drinks again.

You shatter. Caught in his grip, unable to squirm with his teeth in your neck. His weight pinning you down as you pulse around his cock, your cry high and broken in the castle room.

He groans into your skin. The suck of blood over teeth, tasting how it turns sweet. Flushed with your ecstasy, an endless loop between his teeth and the tight clench of your cunt as you come.

For a moment, your eyes flutter closed. Images flicker behind your eyelids - shown as if you were outside yourself.

Red petals against green. Your perception darkened, as if behind a visor. Visions of you, leaning over your stall. Surrounded in a wreath of flowers, hand-picked from your garden.

A throb in your chest, one that blooms - skittering down your spine, settling low in your belly. Almost like butterflies, with how their wings feel like they flutter.

The sensation disappears too fast to make sense of - breaking, as he lets go.

Red smeared across his lips as the steady thrusts become short, messy. Fingers biting into your skin with the slap of his hips, the harsh grunt that turns into a ragged groan.

Hovering over you, as he notches himself deep, one last time. The column of his throat lengthening as his head tips back - it takes everything to resist the urge to make your own mark, as he spills messily inside you.

Throbbing, chasing the high with the grind of his hips.

His eyes losing that sharp edge, when his head tips down. Soft and warm, a sunrise welcoming a summers day.

Everything moves slowly, after. The lazy relaxing of muscles. The tilt of his lips when you whine, when he slips from you. His fingers slow, sweeping - as they dip down. Teasing where he drips from you, as your mouth finds his again.

Tender, as the robe is fully stripped from you. Boba’s words coaxing and patient, as he shows you the strap of his armor. How to take him apart, until you match - a perfect pair.

The aches that linger in your muscles are soon soaked away in the bath he draws. Your second today - a true luxury. The ceramic tub large enough for your back to cradle against his front.

You don’t think you ever want to leave.

Drowsy and content, his cool fingers welcome against your neck. A salve smeared carefully over the marks from his teeth. A promise that your skin will heal by morning, soft and smooth again - unmarried by his touch.

You think next time… you’ll ask if they can stay.

You’re warm against him.

Boba hasn’t been warm in years. Too used to his skin, carved from stone. Forever unchanging.

But you - you’re supple. Soft in his hands, molding yourself to fit the curve of his chest, where you cheek nestles. A thigh splaying over his waist, fingers splayed out against his stomach.

There’s much he should be doing. The sun has set some hours ago, and there’s a long list of things that need his attention.

But for now, for this moment, he will stay. Just a little longer, before he’ll slide out from beneath you, slipping away like a shadow.

You stretch against him, calf pressing into his thigh. Words heavy with sleep and exhaustion, so soft in the night air.

“‘m glad you picked me.”

There’s a stirring, in his chest. Where he thought he was long-dead, his palm pressing down where it rests against your back.

The briefest moment before he’s answering, an idle threat as a deflection.

Hushing you instead, his voice low, “Sleep, little one. You’re mistaken if you think I’ve had had my fill.”

You can’t help the smile, even as your teeth bite into your lip to stifle it. Squirming against him, the press of your center against the curve of his hip.

A low hum of amusement in his chest, as the arm that stretches beside you curls up - tucking around your ribs, nestling you a little closer.

He listens, as your breathing grows slower. Until you’re drifting off to a dreamless sleep.

Only then, does he let his mind wander. Back to the place where it had been earlier that evening. When he teeth were bared, that moment where his armor had been so thin.

“Don’t close your eyes.”

If you had, you would have seen.

Peeling back his memories, discovering just how often he had strayed down to the marketplace, after your first meeting. Not for gold or for payment. Only to catch a glimpse at the girl that had burrowed under his skin.

Somewhere along the way, changing from a casual observation - making sure Shard kept away - to something far more intimate.

Something akin to longing, if a man like Boba Fett could feel that way.

You would have felt - when the goblet raised to his lips for the second time…

Just how much he had hoped it was yours.

ad'ika - little one | sarad - flower | mesh’la - beautiful

If you made it this far, thank you so much for reading! 🥺💕 I wanted to explore some of the same themes but in a new way for Boba (rejection of fate, the intentional in the way they seek each other out, instead of the pull of soulmates) - I just thought that would be so fun. I hope you liked this! 💖

tagging some pals!: @margofiore, @marieg, @wingofshadow, @reaperofmen, @bobaprint, @phoenixhalliwell, @csboz, @imarvelatthestars

[lex-the-flex]

Here With Me

Luke Skywalker x reader

Summary: Acting on instinct, Luke Skywalker has to let go of control, even if it means saving someone he loves.

Word Count: 970

Warning(s): HEAVY ANGST, descriptions of torture, injuries, and mentions of the Dark Side, Luke unleashing literal hell + tampering with pure rage, action and violence, (only the destruction of Dark Troopers) MEGA FLUFF, Luke being a dutiful Jedi Master, and love is powerful than the Dark Side.

A/N: Got this idea from @winterinspace and I LOVE IT! I can totally see Luke doing this for anyone he cares about. Feedback is appreciated and enjoy!

Tears formed in your eyes as you let out a scream like no other. Your vocal cords strained from the effort while the rest of your body went numb to the pain. Your face remained drenched in sweat and the lingering taste of iron coated your tongue.

Even through gritted teeth, you refused to give the Empire what they wanted. You wouldn't spill the information on where you last saw Luke Skywalker -- or where he was going.

To the Dark Troopers, you were just toying with them, allowing them to make a fool of themselves. However, you truly didn't know where Luke was. One night he suddenly vanished from the Rebellion without any warning and you were put on the front line, much to Leia's dismay.

"Alright, R2. I'm here." He informed the droid.

Waking from the quick meditative nap, Luke's eyes adjusted to the vast darkness of space, praying that the compass' intention was true. Otherwise, he'd lose you forever.

On the X-Wing's computer, the coordinates for the suspected planet appeared, and they only made Luke's demeanor remain the same: get you and get out, no matter the cost.

Descending through the planet's atmosphere, a distinct series of embers began to light up beneath Luke's icy blue eyes, fueling the man with a strong fury. Jumping down from the ship's ladder, he hit the ground with such a strong force, it caused the ground to crack below him.

Unzipping the orange jumpsuit, his raven-like robes escaped from the plastic zipper, revealing his Mastery to no one but the mountainside. Unsheathing the dark cloak from the storage shelf, the piece of

fabric flowed in the cool breeze once Luke draped it over his shoulders. Unhooking the silver and gold lightsaber at his hip, Luke headed down the mountain with a single command.

"Stay here, R2. I'll be right back." 

****

The facility's nature surrounded the halls with an eerie silence, it nearly caught Luke off guard. He expected to have gone through at least a great majority of the base with half of its inhabitants on the floor. Quietly shaking those thoughts from his head, Luke knew he couldn’t go that route; to the Dark Side. As did his Father all those years ago. But now, he had no choice. 

Ducking in a hidden alcove, Luke patiently sat against the wall. Stalling his breathing, he focused with the Force, surrendering to its blissfulness in a daze.

In and out.

Concentrating, his dark brow fluttered and scrunched together just as the vision of you filled the darkness behind his eyelids. You were all alone in a cell, shaking from the pain with cuts and bruises all over your exposed skin. Barely hugging your legs, your head sat on your cut up knees, hoping to find some solace in this place.

'You are not alone in this fight, Y/N. I'm here for you.'

Lifting your head to his declaration, your eyes welled with tears at the sight of two Dark Troopers standing at the cell's door.

'Luke, no...'

"No, please don't--" You pleaded, but it was too late.

Suddenly, a painful scream left the pits of your lungs once a taser was shoved into your side. Luke unconsciously balled his fists together, remembering a similar pain he left, where the Emperor himself left the young man hideously scarred. The pain you endured mirrored his own and Luke swore never again.

Opening his eyes to the empty hallway, his once calm and passionate soul-piercing eyes shifted within seconds. While they remained blue, all he saw was red. Something buried deep inside his chest, his heart had finally snapped.

And everyone in this facility had to pay.

Rounding the corner to the prison block, Luke ignited his green plasma blade, not even caring who was on the other side. HIs anger rose up in an untamed fury whilst a wave of adrenaline coursed through his veins. The two droids rounded you up by the wrists and drug you to the middle of prison, ready to strike again.

Luke marched through the hallway with heavy steps, instantly blocking the rain of blaster fire that was impending down on him. Working his way past each of the Troopers, Luke pulled, shoved, and deflected every single shot, punch, and kick that would slow him down. With each defeated sound and whimper that left your chapped lips was more than enough to fuel his angry attacks.

Moving swiftly down the hall, Luke slammed his lightsaber down on the remaining Dark Trooper who laid on the floor. Hitting the cold and dark metal again and again, the hot plasma beam cut through the machine like butter, making a cold and heartbreaking memory creep into the back of his mind.

'You will not take her from me!'

Entering the main section of the prison, Luke was greeted with the sight of the two Troopers repeatedly pounding their mechanical hands and butt ends of their blasters into your broken skin. Then, in a flash, the pain stopped, and you were greeted by the sight of the Dark Troopers crunched into tiny pieces on the floor.

Gazing up at Luke, his breath remained as frigid gasps once he realized what he had done. Seeing the utter fear in your e/c eyes brought him back to the world, making him understand that he tampered with the Dark Side. His fury and rage fueled him like no other, allowing him to part his enemies like the ocean. And you were his saving grace.

Feeling tears well up in his eyes, he calmly walked over to you, and gently picked you up without a word. Silently carrying your sore and nearly broken body, Luke's heart began to heal and mend itself back together, leaving behind an unspoken wake of destruction in his path.

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[annmaximoff18]

Y/N: So, technically you're king of Tatooine?

Boba: Yes something like that

Y/N: that's great

Boba: Do you want to be the queen?

[syn0vial]

as much as i enjoy legacy of the force and overall don't mind its retcons of previous boba fett media, the one change that i just can't stand is a tiny alteration karen traviss makes to boba fett's childhood as told in the junior novels. in the junior novels, jango keeps a pet eel in his apartment, which needs to be fed live rodents known as "sea mice." boba does not like the eel at all because he empathizes with the feeder mice, to the point where, when jango tries to make him feed the mice to the eel himself, he starts feeding the eel his own food and trying to smuggle the mice to freedom. and when the eel is eventually killed in the story (not long before jango's own death), boba's only thought is "good riddance."

yet, when karen traviss retells these events in legacy of the force, she says boba was fond of the eel, not the mice. which is just!!! such a huge missing of the point!!! like, yes karen, making boba fett fond of the predator in the equation rather than the prey makes more sense on a surface-level reading, but it totally eliminates all of the tragic, ironic weight of that contradiction in his childhood: that this little boy, who idolizes his bounty hunter father, can't stomach the thought of an animal killing something else to live and despises that animal for it. the point is that he's naive and doesn't fully grasp the horror of what his father does and what he's being raised to do, the point is that we know that this is boba fucking fett and that this innocence tragically will not last, and the point is that one of the most notorious killers in the galaxy started out as a kid who literally could not even stand to harm a mouse.

like for kark's sake, karen, how's it feel to be out-nuanced by a novel for nine-year-olds

[rise-my-angel]

Shadows of Mandalore

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader, Boba Fett x Female Reader

Length: 20k

Warnings: A/b/o (alpha beta omega dynamics), omega reader, not a poly relationship, angst/hurt comfort, mentions of past trauma, mentions of slavery, smut, oral (f and m recieving), p in v, anal play, anal sex, dirty talk via communicator, slight degradation, one mention of name calling during sex (consensual), m/m/f threesome, no m/m dynamics

Notes: Takes place during the span of episodes 5, 6, and 7 of The Book of Boba Fett.

Perhaps many years ago this vast expanse of darkness below would have been frightening. Now though, you came with the safety that those other then yourself had your back. The fade into what you couldn’t see reminded you of the vast crevasses you had been told to avoid as a child. The elders insisting you went nowhere near where the world split, but your father whispering promises of teaching you not just how to cross but to climb. Such lessons never happened, and so for a long, lonely time you continued to go nowhere near such deep falls. 

By your side however, there was more than just the promises of your long forgotten father. The pair behind you kept far away enough to watch but not listen, but one of them no doubt would not only dive off to catch you but climb up in no time. Both would, but you felt Din’s eyes trained on your back at all times. Even if he was turned to speak to Paz, never once did he not have you somewhere in his sights. Both men watching respectfully, but gave the space and distance commanded by the woman beside you. 

The Armourer sat next to you at the edge of the platform, having requested she speak to you and you alone before discussing thing’s further with those of her covert. Only somewhat taller then you, she still seemed to tower over you with bulk and authority. The fur around her shoulders and helmet designed like that of horns still intimidated you as much now as it did the first time. Sitting next to her, legs crossed as your heart beat a tinge faster, you wondered if her silence was because she sensed it. 

“You were a slave before meeting Din Djarin were you not?” There had been hints of amusement and closeness when speaking to her kind, but the formality of a leader returning with you only adding to the strange worry that you still didn’t belong. You stared out into the darkness as you nodded. Not wanting her to pick up on your insecurity. “And yet you haven’t returned to Werda since being freed.” 

It was either curiosity in her voice or a judgment, a tone you doubt even without the modulator you would be able to ascertain. Your only memory of the place now was of that night. The cracking split in the cliff side and ship so large it looked as if it was rising out of the caverns below, there was painful silence for just a moment until it boomed and lights flew from the ships interior until there was nothing left in your young understanding but fire and screams. 

There was pain in being taken from your home, your family. But where Din’s loss ended in the arms of a people who formed the brave and valiant family in place to heal. You were ripped from a home you didn’t know much about, and tossed into the hands of others with a brand that you still felt the phantom burning of on your neck. 

Omega’s were rare now. Uncommon in the galaxy, and once thought to be extinct amongst Mandalorians. From an isolated childhood to a life of slavery, finally thrusting into the vast world of the very people you heard so much about as a child. You didn’t know what confused you more. Your own presentation as an omega, or the strange fascination different Mandalorians seemed to have with such a presentation.

Din knew there was nothing left of what he called home if he were to travel back, but you didn’t know what was even left behind. Swallowing harshly, you kept your jaw set and forward. “My home, they were killed that night, or they moved on in fear. Either way I would have no way of knowing where to even find them. We didn’t stay in once place if there was trouble, but I don’t even know where home was when they took me.” 

A silence passed between you before she found her voice again. “Keeping in small numbers while hiding to protect those small amounts. An interesting trait for those who claimed to stray far from The Way.” 

Head turning to her slightly, you felt something reach within you as if trying to shield a truth that’s wanted to make itself known for a while now. Your unsure silence spoken as a prompt for her to continue. “Omegas exist outside of Mandalorians but it was with us that their numbers prospered. A presentation once treasured but whose numbers disappeared some time before the Great Purge. Whomever was left, all but perished along with our home world and for some time none of us knew where the remainder had been taken.” 

A sinking feeling in your stomach felt like a powerful weight slamming into it. The shock and surprise of the pirates who stole you from your home, and the scramble to sell you to the highest bidder. 

“Until an omega was rumoured to have shown up on the slave trade after Werda was invaded. A planet many of us thought to be abandoned along with much of The Mandalore System. Hiding our own kind in plain sight.” 

Were you not sitting, hands already wrung together and hidden away in your lap, the shaking may have become painfully clear. Your jaw clenched tightly as the only tone coming from your mouth was that of a whisper. You knew the truth of history, yet the disbelief of stories told as a child fought strongly with that. “No, we went to the Mandalore system after you abandoned it, because you wouldn’t look where you left behind.” 

A creak of distraught peeked into your voice, but neither it or your words offended her. “Who is more likely to be telling the truth, omega. If it is the stories told to you as a child, then you wouldn’t be here right now, would you?” 

Of course it was a stretch, did you truly ever believe the opposite when since day one you had trusted Din and his people more than anyone in your life before. “You said Werda was hiding your own kind, you mean-”

“Mandalorians.” Her head turned slowly to yours, her voice as sure and as absolute as ever. “Or, those born to Mandalorians. Stashed away to keep their omega’s from the very kind of Mandalorians they deemed dangerous for simply putting faith in The Way.” 

You thought of that, even now. The possible truth that the Elders of your home lied of the past and destroyed access to the outside world just to keep it that way. Even now as you walked through the hanger, your mind replayed her final words to you. 

“You are bonded to him,” nodding to Din, “and we are not to disrespect the bond between mates but know this, omega. His transgressions are not yours. You need not swear the Creed to have a place amongst us. An omega born to Mandalorians such as us will always be welcome here should she choose so.” 

Both you and Din had far too much on your minds to even know where to start with the other, and least of all to discuss out in the open as you both were stuck travelling. There were people everywhere, and the transport ship in sight was even less viable as an option. 

Little had been said since leaving the covert, but Din kept you close. A hand on your lower back or keeping you more firm at his side than normal, the spiralling whirlwind of emotions no doubt his was picking up on but also for himself. 

The Armourer had given you a place with their people in the same encounter she told Din, that he had lost his. There was a path to redemption, one that neither of you knew where quite to start but the road there would not be felt likely in his heart. 

Paz spitting he was an apostate, while the Armourer forced herself to stand collected and provided a redemption, but it did very little to settle the fiery conflict the deceleration put within him. You had gently slipped your hand into his, fingers wrapping together, making sure that this not a loss of everything. 

Din had turned to you, back to his people as he cupped your cheek with his other hand. Just like always, you met his eyes through the blackness of a visor and he found unwavering solidarity in your togetherness. He didn’t have nothing, there was still you. For now that would be enough to prevent his mind from falling apart in just another way. 

You both felt the frustration too. All of your belongings now sat either on Din’s person or in the bag wrapped across your shoulders that once held the other piece of your hearts. No home, no child, and now, Din being casted out, an apostate despite the very reason for his sacrifice being for his foundling. A part of their Creed which was supposed to be the most important thing to protect. 

He understood the gravity of what he did, and regardless of how you felt about the repercussions it was still important to him to fix. Something of his identity that through meeting Mandalorians of other kinds, still was part of who he was and wanted to be. You both would fix this, but it was hard to do that in your current situation.

Especially when that situation involved a droid falling it’s alarm that only tripped after you and Din crossed it’s path. Turning back it sat amongst a security luggage port, sticking out a key card telling you to remove your weapons. 

Both of you turning in place to walk towards it, Din was already agitated let alone being yelled at by a machine. “I’m a Mandalorian, weapons are part of my religion.” 

Coming up beside him, you could see eyes on the large man in full armour with worry as if they weren’t regularly surrounded with far more and far worse people who didn’t have the respect and restraint that Din has. “If you wish to discuss this with my supervisor, I will gladly book you on tomorrow’s flight.” 

Sharing a glance between you, a fight with an even more frustrating droid and being stuck here overnight looked even less appealing. Snatching the card from it, Din opened the secure storage, turning to you with a hand outstretched. 

The small blaster wasn’t exactly the best, nor was Din really even happy that you needed one but without the Razor Crest it was a compromise. Tossing it in, he already begun moving onto his arsenal. You remembered the first time you saw the extent of weaponry he kept on his person, yet now you could almost predict what he’d reach for next without looking. Putting it all back though, was going to be a much bigger annoyance then taking it off.

Stepping to his side, Din pulled out the Darksaber. Looking completely unremarkable in it’s deactivated state, but one of the only things that connected you both to that day Grogu left. Sparing a look at the other, you raised your eyebrows with a little tilt of your head in hesitancy.

Din didn’t have a choice, but it certainly felt odd putting a weapon of such apparent importance into a security luggage some droid was going to toss into the cargo. Pulling the card out, Din pointed at the little droid. “I know everything that’s in there.” 

“Proceed.” 

You didn’t know why, but the light hearted tone of it’s response to a threat, made you smile. An act that had Din looking at you curiously, but in an impossible to determine way. His hand returned to your lower back as you entered the transport making your way to whatever seats they booked you in. 

Gesturing you to go in first, you took the bag off your shoulders, letting it hang off the edge of the armrest next to the wall. Eyes shutting with a huff, you let your head rest back for just a moment as you felt Din move in next to you. 

It was those quiet times in the cockpit of the Razor Crest that you and Din felt the most connected. A long way to travel with the peace of just the two of you interspersed with a baby wanting in on the affection. Many times Grogu would end up on Din’s lap, venture over to yours for a while and then back to Din when he wanted to sleep. 

It was those moment’s you felt that bond the Armourer spoke of. Technically you and Din weren’t mated, but your souls reached for one another in instinct at all times and kept any from stealing you away. It was more quiet now though. An unspoken you always felt.

Din able to retain his alpha, knowing it would calm whatever senses your omega had the potential of putting off to much. Feeling his gaze, you opened your eyes to turn and look up at the man already watching you before a child turned in the seat in front of you. 

Curious gaze looking at Din in the same childlike wonder Grogu would often do. The little wave he did and the nod Din gave the kid back pulled too much at your heart. The kid looking nothing like yours but the feeling persisted of how much he was missed. 

It must have gotten stronger, because you suddenly felt a wave of calm splashing onto you from Din as he brushed your knuckle with a few fingers to catch you, voice little more then a whisper. “Cyra’ika,” You must have made Din feel more distressed then you were actively realizing. His touch moving then to brush against your cheek as he leaned in. Forehead not quite touching yours, “How long has it been since you’ve slept.” 

Eyes drooping a slight as you leaned into his hands touch. “Since before the bounty?” 

Smirking at how instantly Din sighed, you shrugged one shoulder. Neither of you slept well since the light cruiser. “I’m not even going to bother pointing out how many days ago that was.” Sliding his touch to under your chin, pushing you to look up at him. “You should try while we’re on here. It’ll be a bit before we get to Tatooine.” 

Narrowing your eyes you grasped his hand, pulling from your chin to keep in your lap. “What about you?” 

His chuckle was light enough that no one but you could have picked it up, making you pout a tad as he pulled away from your lap to slide it up behind your neck. Firmly yet soothingly holding you close to him. “I will, I promise.” 

His hand pulling you to rest gently on his shoulder, knowing that you liked the coolness of the beskar on your skin lately. You had been running hotter the past few weeks, and with little chances to lay together and surround yourself with Din’s even warmer body heat, you took advantage of the beskar’s temperature. 

Din waited until you were asleep to pull out the wrapped cloth. The shirt forged from the spear he used to rescue Grogu. A fitting transference if you asked him. If he squinted, Din could almost see the shape of his head and large ears in the wrappings, but it also certainly was just the loneliness without him pulling at his heart. 

You had each other, but missing Grogu was something else entirely and it left a painful void. He tried to keep the subject from you, Grogu was his and their clan was made just with the two of them, but you were just as important to it. An honorary member turning it to a clan of three that you insisted wasn’t true. You always wanted to keep a distance. Fearing your attachment would come across as trying to invade on their space despite how much both parties wanted you too. 

Your distress at his leaving was more evident, everything you felt lately was more intense. Screaming to the surrounding people that you were omega in distress and Din put forth everything in his power to keep you calm and safe in his arms. Even the rising level of your body heat was concerning to Din. He knew you tried to hide it, but he scanned and checked your vitals through his visor more then you knew, even before you joined him. 

Finding himself scanning you to ensure you were alright and safe between visits to Navarro. It was there he noticed your former slavers brand was red inflamed. You had been working on removing it, but it was leaving a new scar on your neck at how viciously you scrubbed it away. 

He bought bacta specifically for it, telling you to use it before bed and not to touch your fading brand until it was healed entirely. He protected you just like that now, even if it meant keeping both of your pains quiet. The first night you two were together was after Grogu had left, and the feeling off ripped away loss send you hurling towards a stress induced heat. 

Your presentation had never quite gone back down after your heat ended. Like you were stuck on the verge of another, but kept rooted to the ground by Din’s soothing presence and the command of his alpha. He hoped seeing Grogu would be good for you, even if it would still mean leaving him once more.

You didn’t allow yourself a goodbye. Turning your gaze away to leave the moment to them alone, and from the distance he felt more torn apart inside at how raging your omega screamed. Letting what you subconsciously saw as your own kid, just be taken away after everything to rescue him. 

Maybe that’s why Din was handling it just the slightest bit better, he felt Grogu’s gentle touch on his cheek and their eyes on each other until they were no longer together. You didn’t let yourself have that, and if Din wasn’t also fighting this internal struggle of what his people now saw him as? This would be easier for you to handle, but the two of you had too much stolen from you and what to show for it? 

No home, no child, just a weapon that held a responsibility Din had no interest in. Tatooine wasn’t a great place, but maybe enough familiar faces to ease both your pains for even a little while. 

Leaving the artificial light of the transport into the blistering suns masked by nothing but the sand below had you squinting walking off the ramp. Throwing the bag back over your shoulder you remembered the last time you were actually on this planet. 

For the first time since you begun travelling with them, it was the first time anyone outside of Din had given you any kind of flirtatious attention that wasn’t dripping with a creepiness. Cobb Vanth was more chatty then you were used too, and honestly? Having a man smile charmingly at you like that almost felt as unusual as it did somewhat flustering. 

Sitting around a fire, Grogu had been happily plopped down between Din’s feet to sit closer to the fire occasionally climbing gently over his boot to glance over at you, only to find you looking right back. A little game between you and him, who caught who staring first and who would be the first to look away. 

One of the Tuskens had made a rather loud noise to another, breaking Grogu’s concentration and giving ample opportunity for the Marshall to whisper yours over onto him. “You know, I was wondering if I could see the resemblance, but some kids just take more after their father’s don’t they?” 

A hint of a smirk formed as you turned yourself to look at him properly, your voice an inch lower. “Or maybe all those years in the sun just means you don’t see too good.” He chuckled, but it wasn’t as deep and warm as Din’s, though it was odd you’d compare. 

He was quiet for a moment, watching you sip the odd liquid the Tuskens had given you all and it also didn’t feel as nice when Din quietly watched you. Though, you figured it at the least was better then the annoying feeling when it was Calican watched you. Acting as if cocky spunk would endear you to him. “The kid’s his. That much is obvious, now you got me wondering where you fit into all this exactly.” 

Cobb had meant it as a genuine question. A Mandalorian shows up demanding the return of the Marshall’s bought armour, has a very small baby in toe with big ears and curious wide eyes, and you by his side. Not a bounty hunter, nor a Mandalorian, and what Cobb knew all to well was the faded mark of a slave brand on your neck healed out to almost nothing. He was interested in this strange trio that walked into his town and rallied the what he normally felt was a group of dangerous creatures together for a common goal. 

To you? It felt much like then Xi’an asked you the same thing. Only she meant it with malice.  A judgment upon your person that even worse, was extended to the kid. A kid that they sent their bug droid to kill just for being associated with Din. She was the first one who made you question if you belonged with these two. 

Cobb didn’t mean it that way, but you felt it. And surprisingly, so did the kid in question. Grogu at some point had found himself up on Din’s lap. Little hand reaching over to you with a grumble as if upset you were too far away. The man beside you chuckled more, “Just like me as a boy, could never go too long without his mama’s attention.” 

Your heart lept at the word, but quickly Din had scooted over to get your side pressed up against his. Grogu crawling half into your lap before falling over and letting out a half purr half grumble. Din’s voice was in your ear this time, and the warmth filling your veins brought calm to your memory once more. “I’d suggest you hold him a while, but I have a feeling he’d just get upset all over again.”

Hand reaching down to trail softly over his ear, you smiled. Not that you could sense it quite yet, but Din smiled at the sight just as brightly. “Maybe we spoil him too much.” 

A gloved hand reached down to grasp at Grogu’s little hand, baby fingers wrapping around one of his while the remainder covered it entirely in the leather. “Spoiling was when you spent the last of your earnings on that plush instead of that drink you enjoyed.” Din had geared you towards a specific vendor one day, hoping you’d catch the sight of the man selling this strange dark blue drink you loved only to stop at Grogu cooing. 

You had turned to look at him, sat happily in the bag Din kept on him and his big eyes trained on a brown frog plush, a bit on the rough side and just short of his own height. Naturally, you folded instantly. 

Now though, it was just one of the very little items you had left. Din kept the metal ball on him, and you kept the plush frog in the bag once for Grogu himself. The droid at the security station was in far worse condition. Paint chipping and it’s voice box stuttering and movements lanky. It didn’t feel as welcoming as the memory you sank into just seconds before. 

Headed towards the main part of town, thing’s didn’t appear to be in quite as working order as you expected. Nothing was occurring, but there was a quiet unsure feeling among the people like waiting for violence. Din, naturally, kept you pressed almost right as his side until Peli’s hanger approached. 

“Where’s your unlikely companion?” As instant as you froze up in place, Din’s alpha reached out to tame the rising flames before they could spark more. The way he could command your presentation without speaking were it from anyone else, would be alarming. 

“I returned him to his own kind.” 

Peli’s response though, almost cracked something akin to a smirk. “Why the hell would you do that? I could have good money off that thing.” 

Pushing past the dryness in your throat, you turned your head to her. “Pretty sure keeping a baby for just a petting zoo is illegal.” Her head turned to look over at you, the little glint in your eye much easier to read then the stillness of the Mandalorian few were used too. 

Shaking her head with an amused smirk of her own, “It’s not illegal. Just morally dubious. Besides, those big bright eyes would have made me a killing.” 

Approaching something covered in a sheet in her hanger, you and Din paused to glance at one another hesitantly. You weren’t a ship expert but something tells you she had a completely different plan then what she called you both for. “Ready to have your mind blown?” 

Well, that wasn’t really the word. More confused, at least Din was more straight forward. “Where’s the Razor Crest?” 

“I never said I had a Razor Crest, I said I had a replacement for the Razor Crest.” The more you looked at it, the more interested you became. The general design looked familiar but not in a way you would have seen out in the open space. 

The two of them went back and forth for a bit, Din saying “This is a pile of junk.” and Peli trying to sweeten the deal with promises of modification and big game about it being a Starfighter used by some Naboo Queen. Pacing around it, you think you may have read a book with something like this in it. 

Early on, you had started reading up on ships and internal ship mechanics trying to prove yourself useful to Din beyond just watching Grogu. Starfighter’s were in that text somewhere that pinged at your vauge memory. Something you actually know about in a way that’s helpful, finally. 

“I’m telling you Mando, you gotta believe me. This is a classic.” 

While she had inadvertently knocked a panel right off it’s loose hold, you turned to Din from where you stood by one of it’s engine thrusters. “What if we fix it first?” His head tilting, you started gesturing around it. “I mean, we’ll need to fish around for parts, but it doesn’t look salvaged, more like it’s just been stripped.” 

You felt a shiver at his silence, glancing around before backtracking. “Just, I mean it’s not what we wanted, but if we can get it to work,” 

Peli’s high pitched voice yelled out as she pointed to you, “That’s when, not if, missy.” 

Smirking slightly, you raised your hand sin defence. “When we get it to work,” You moved back closer to Din a little unnerved at his silence. “You get to keep all your weapons on you in a Starfighter at least.” 

Could you see under his helmet, you’d see the amused yet done look on his face. Peli, a scrappy friend who was the hardest person outside his clan to say no too. Then there was your hopeful look, and an understanding that you had perked up at the idea of working on the ship for the first time in weeks. 

It wasn’t a permanent solution, but it was a temporary one that seemed to brighten your face. Glancing up at it, then down to you, your eyes wide and mouth slightly parted in hope. “Fixed up it’ll sell for more then we paid.” 

Peli had a protest to it, but the excitement in your eyes was just the right amount for Din. Hanging your bag up on the wall, you grabbed a pair of gloves and all three of you had some work to do. Peli disappeared to start on looking for certain parts, leaving you and Din in the peaceful quiet. 

Seamlessly working back and forth, interspersed with the goofy little droids that astounded you that they knew how to do anything. But they made you smile sometimes, and hey, five times out of ten, they passed you the right tool. You didn’t even know where to start on the Jawa’s, or more accurately, whatever strange arrangement she had with them. 

You were behind the ship, hands deep in one of the still stripped open panels with half the wiring either missing entirely, or hooked up wrong. “I dated a Jawa once.” Your head flying up, the dead silence Din gave her contrasting Peli not even considering the oddity of what she just said. An R5 unit passing by you, bleeping and shaking from the scavengers still hovering the area. 

Side eyeing it, you just shook your head muttering, “Trust me, buddy. Getting stripped for parts is the least of your worries out there.” Turning away it bumped into you slightly by accident, jostling you forward as one of the open wires sparked. Zapping at your fingertips, one hand gloveless just to have fit your hand through. Pulling back with a quiet hiss, you shook your hand and sat back on your knees. 

Pressing the heel of your palm into your forehead, the warmth came now from beside you not just within you. Peeking to the side, Din kneeled by your side, his hand outstretched towards you. “Here, let me see.”  Handing him the tool but he didn’t take it, just looked at you. “Not that, cyra’ika. Your hand.” 

Dropping it, you hesitated for just a moment ultimately knowing Din would just yank it towards him if you refused. Palm up, he traced your fingers up and tickling the soft sensation. You shrugged not yet brave enough to look at him. “Just a zap, it’s fine.” No words, he looked you over until the image of just dirt and small, older scrapes covered it. But he didn’t give it back. Sparing a look around the room, Peli was no where. “Din.” 

He himself sighed, shoulders dropping in exhaust that had you yearning for the privacy to help wring tension out of. “Sorry, I know. I just-” 

What he expected out of you was not what you had either. “Maybe you should go without me.” 

Helmet snapping up to you, a surge of paralyzing disbelief rushed forth into you. Trying to slip your hand back, Din in fact, yanked you right back into his touch. His heart pumping silence demanding an elaboration. 

Stammering you felt far less confident in this idea then you had when it arrived as a fleeting thought. “I just mean, this means a lot to you two and I wasn’t even there from the beginning,” Din said your name in warning, and pulled you further into him just as you unconsciously fidgeted too far from his comfort. “I just shouldn’t-” 

Peli’s voice rang out higher then both of yours could possibly dream of combined. “I don’t know why you’re always in such a hurry. Build me a ship, fix my blaster holes.” 

Her interruption granting just enough surprise from Din to slip out of his grasp, pushing up from your thighs and walking around the ship the long way from him. “Find us a ship is different then build me one, Peli. Besides we’re the ones doing all the work.” Gesturing to the slowly standing Din. 

Waving her hand at you, “All the work? Trust me, dealing with a bunch of eager Jawa’s always asking me out is hard work, believe me.” The funny thing about Peli is either she didn’t see your narrowed brows as you stared confused at her because it didn’t matter, or she did and ignored it. “You’d know what I’m talking about if you didn’t have a human sized massiff glaring down your potential suitors.” 

Voice flat as ever, one hand on his hip Din just stared Peli down until she threw her hands up in bemused defeat. Not before mockingly covering her mouth and leaning into you, “All alpha’s this protective or just the Mando variety?” 

There was a joke somewhere deep within you, but it was hard to get out at Din’s stare. It wasn’t something you came too lightly, but more and more you couldn’t help but feel this pull of failure that permeated every conversation or thought of Grogu. Not that you’d say it, but you somehow felt like a disworthy omega. Not even given herself the chance to say goodbye to her child and now lacking the ability to comfort the loneliness and dark pain creeping into her mate. 

Or supposed mate, in this case. Kicking nothing at your feet, it became too hard to face that reality the closer the ship was to finished. That was the plan, see Grogu once the ship is acquired but maybe you didn’t deserve it. Grogu was Din’s, his foundling. Not yours. Just a tag along that accidentally fit a nice role of doting omega that now wandered the galaxy lost and without use. 

Tension between you and Din was palpable. His eyes on you at all times the second they were anywhere but the ship. Yours, never met his back. Even through the visor, you found his his eyes perfectly every time. Even his covert making mention of the ease in which you spoke to them like the helmet was just who they were like your face was. 

By the time the Jawa's returned, you had been crouched by a panel away from the door. Knowing both by the quick scramble of small feet and R5 shaking like the least brave droid in existence. Catching it’s attention, you inhaled and exhaled with dramatic movements. But the droid just beeped more. 

Never met a droid that was such a baby before. 

Din’s voice rang out through the hanger. “Where did they get a cryogenic density combustion booster?” 

“Do you really wanna know?” 

Sounded like a fair question, neither you or Din had found the Jawa’s holding a favourable track record of being in the ownership of things belonging to him, or Fett for that matter. A thought that sparked in your head and begun plotting itself out..

“They said they crawled under a Pyke spice runner and crimped it off while they were refueling. Gutsy little fellas.” Hands pausing mid movement, you turned your head just enough to hear her the slightest bit clearer. “Let me tell you something, Pykes do not mess around. Ever since they've been moving spice through the system, everything's gone to hell. Everyone's afraid of 'em and law enforcement won't even go near 'em.” 

Eyes glazing over, you bit part of your bottom lip as you lost yourself in wonder. Things around here looked calm, but that might be in part of fear of what may come through. You’d had enough encounters both with their kind, and that of spice runners in general. Their work and cooperation with the slavers trade were synonymous with one another. Many people you had seen sold off in favour of high quality cut, but not you it seemed. No spice was worth selling an omega until an even greedier profiteer came along with a heftier offer.  

Gears turned, but perhaps ones which wouldn’t make Din very happy. What did though, was how gorgeously fast the Starfighter was. You watching from a view point separate from her hanger, the machine flying through the sky with impressive skill. Peli leaving the field test over to you, saying something about cleaning up after them, either her droids or the Jawa’s who knows.

He unbeknownst to you, could hear the joy in your tone along with the smirk on your face more akin to proud them smug. “How’s the handling?” 

“A little bumpy,” the slight echos of control switches flipping on his end, “let me open her up.” 

The speed catching attention of those on the street’s below, you felt something shiver down your spine without recognizing it. Nor that your tone felt much raspier to his deeper one. “Controls are more sensitive then a Razor Crest, going to have to ease me into this one.” 

It didn’t translate through both the communicator, or the modulator on his helmet but there was a shift in his seat and a grunt along with a more boiling point of his blood before he spoke. “I’ll be gentle. Don’t you worry mesh’la.” 

Face flushing, he called for you again. “Talk to me, sweet girl tell me how I’m doing.” 

If he was doing this on purpose that was unfair. You squirmed in your seat along with a tightness in your chest that felt more thrilling than was appropriate for being alone in a friends control bay. Swallowing your tone down, you shook your head. “Manoeuvrability looks good, take it through Beggar’s Canyon so I can see the navigational stats.” 

Still learning how to read navigational equipment outside of the Razor Crest, you squinted as you watched it coming through, putting together the pieces in your head. “That’s better, you look good out there.” 

“Says the pretty girl giving me orders.” The deepness he spoke in was intentional, it had to be. There was a silence in your bones as he chuckled. The communicator making it feel deep in your chest. “There we go, nice and tight.” 

You barley registered what he was actually doing on the Starfighter, the communicator holding tight in your grip. “What’s an omega got to do to get an alpha to talk to her that way?” 

Oh Din could dish it, but he could not handle hearing it back right in his ear like that. He groaned shamelessly, coming at you like a warning. “Mesh’la..” 

Pushing up from the chair, you braced a palm on an empty space of the control board, far too warm for your own good. “No, please I understand. She’s sleek and gorgeous, I’ll give you space.” Din muttered something in Mando’a that you didn’t know. “I’ll meet you back down there, okay? Treat her gentle.” A quick glance back up to where nothing was visible anymore, you sighed out clicking it off. 

The trek down to the outside wiping away the fluster in your heart, glad this was working out at least in the meantime. Looking around you saw the hanger closed up oddly enough.  Hopping down the final step, you closed the door behind you looking over at the woman with her hands on her hips looking up much like you had chasing a ship too fast to spot. 

“Peli?” 

You jumped back as she did, her hand on her heart as she walked over to you. “Maker, you think that man gets himself into enough trouble, now he’s got people stopping by here looking for him.” A breathless rant you stepped closer to her, hands up almost trying to bring the manic down a tinge. 

“I was gone for less than ten minutes, what happened?” Watching her shake her head, she dramatically inhaled and let it all back out before nodding to the closed doors. 

“Someone came looking for him, both of you. No idea how they knew either of you were in my business but I locked ‘em up in the hanger. Figured Mando’s more equipped for that than you or me.” 

Glancing over, you watched the closed doors for a moment with narrowed eyes until you heard the sleek sounds of the Starfighter back in atmosphere. You and Peli backing up to give him space, it landed like nothing. Peeking inside, Din made it look easy enough but you had a distinct feeling getting used to this one wouldn’t be as easy as before. 

The Razor Crest was a gunship, but more forgiving to pilot. Peli meeting him with amusement in her own voice. “How was it?” 

Din glanced at the pair of you, making Peli cheer to herself as you grinned. “Wizard.” He climbed out of the seat as you walked over, leaning on the side to look over days worth of work. His tall frame loomed over you, were he not in public you’d have felt his hand tilt your chin up to look at him. Instead he stood as close as he could get away with, a strong scent of his inner alpha radiating your senses. 

Your eyes a little dumbfounded at how strong he smelt and how small it made you feel, in a way you wanted more of. “I know it’s not what we wanted, but it’s something, right?” Before he could respond, Peli came back over. 

“Oh, someone claiming to be a friend of you two dropped by.” Holding her hands out, she switched her tone. “Don't worry. I told her I didn't know where you were. Then I locked her in and engaged the hangar security system.”

“She tell you her name?” 

Before anyone said another word, they did for you. “Fennec Shand.” Spinning around, you saw her sitting up on a tricky hanger ledge with a smirk. Hopping down each one, you felt a real grin forming as you and Din met her halfway. “By any chance you looking for work? The pay is good.” 

You could feel even just still beside him, Din’s hovering presence the second anything switched to business. Especially lately. “What’s the bounty?” Being tossed the pay, neither of you even glanced at it’s contents. 

Fennec shook her head, “No bounty, we need muscle.” 

Now the dots made sense. The Pykes, the strange aura of the city streets. Boba Fett challenged the leadership in a different kind of way, no doubt such a name and conquered title would set forth an a new challenger to test it. “Fett’s after the Pykes?” 

Her sharp gaze nodding at you, “Encroaching on his territory. He sure would appreciate it.” 

Neither you or Din had to even look at one another to feel your answers. It wasn’t often Din was shown fair and unselfish loyalty and neither he or Fennec needed to help you when going after Moff Gideon. But they did, and you felt that connecting chain tighten in agreement between you and Din. Tossing the pay back, he was absolute. “Tell him it’s on the house. But first,” 

If he felt that strength of understanding between you go slack, he said nothing until the three of you parted ways. The walk back to the hanger where your stuff hung was painfully quiet and he didn’t deserve this strange silence over something he likely wanted you to look forward too. 

But if Din was straight forward with you, so would you be in return. “Din, I’m not going.” 

He stopped right in his step, turning back to you almost as fast as the very ship you watched sail in the sky. His tall frame hiding the brightness of the sun but leaving your shadows feeling intimidated. “Oh I hear you the first time. What the hell do you mean you’re not going?” 

You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came from it as people passed by in the area. Din noting the same, pulled you to the side of the building all but crowding you against it. Trying to pull himself down, his tone turned sweet but you were faster to get it all out. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to go with you. To see Grogu.” Your throat closed up, and your hands trembled at your sides. 

Din slightly leaned back, his voice in quiet disbelief. “Mesh’la why would you-”

Crossing your arms across your chest you shook your head. Sinking in on yourself as the wall served as something of a backrest. “He’s your foundling. Not- not mine. You were the one he said goodbye to, I just don’t think I should be there. It’s..between you two.” 

No longer caring of the sight, Din finally captured your chin in his fingers. “Why would you think that?” 

Truthfully you didn’t quite know. Something inside your chest clawed at you and it bled into your lungs until the air felt too strained to breathe. Your arms hung uselessly at your side wishing that you could just hide in his chest like you could before. “I- The Armourer called you a clan of two. Not three. And I guess...I just think there are things you two should do just with each other, without me tagging along.” 

His head leaned into yours, voice tighter then normal as his grip did the same. “You are not just tagging along. You belong with me. With us, you’re apart of our clan.” 

But were you? That first night, those first few days once Grogu was gone. You and Din spent that time together and isolated, your heat had sped into you full force and it’s strength sent his own rut slipping over the edge. So much of those few days you spent in the others bare arms. Blindfolded you felt every touch of his lips, the hot air from his breathe as you freely raked through the lush hair and scratching ones on his face. 

Then the days were over, and the reality of having no home and no child felt painful. You clung to the other like never before, and it had been weeks of almost never leaving the other’s side. Perhaps a number of hours for Din to nab a bounty, but that’s it. It was just the darkness and wandering pain of you both unable to find the lives you lost and just maybe you only had that bond because he lost his other. 

You weren’t even mated. You were just an omega who followed him around the galaxy, it was Grogu, his very foundling that was the love of his life. A truth you never questioned but maybe it was a role that you shouldn’t intrude on. Maybe your place was just this. An outlet for an alpha who was desperate to not lose everything. So you were a body to keep safe. 

You wanted to shake, cry, plead your sorrows, but none came. Just a far off stare, watering in your eyes that were his helmet reflective you’d be forced to stare back at yourself and not the blackness. “You’re a Mandalorian, and he’s your foundling. Just because I’m an omega doesn’t mean I’m one of you.”

Hands drifting up you traced over the Mudhorn on his shoulder. That’s where their clan was created, it wasn’t the day he went back for him on Navarro and took on a stray. “It doesn’t feel right.” 

Capturing your hand in his, Din stared intently struggling to find any kind of word, and even worse, unable to reach your omega. You pushed him out, just to keep him from convincing you. Something you hadn’t done in a long time. “He’ll want to see you.” 

Shrugging, you faked what was likely a not very well executed expression of casualness. “He misses you more then me. He always does.” 

For a moment the both of you just stood in the streets of Mos Eisley, your hand caught in his as you stared the other down until Din broke. Leaning further, he closed the gap. Pulling you in by the back of your neck and resting your forehead against his. A shaky exhale just audible through his modulator and your own shaky one not helped as he held your connected hands over his chest plate to his heart. “This conversation isn’t over, mesh’la.” 

Nodding together, you basked in his warmth as much as you could, trying to steel the spiralling inside of you that screamed of failure. Finally nudging him lightly, you smiled up at him. “Go give the kid his shirt, you went through enough as it is to get it forged.” 

Just another list of things you and Din would have to figure out at some point. His covert. It took more then another few minutes to convince Din to leave without you. Everything deep within being an alpha saying leaving you behind like this was a bad idea. Even if you’d be perfectly safe, he refused to accept that this was you feeling perfectly normal. 

Finally returning to the Starfighter, you wrapped the bag around your shoulders once again. “You contact me if anything goes wrong.” Stopping you in place Din tilted your head up again. “I mean it, Cyra’ika. If the Pykes are as big of a problem as Peli said, I don’t want you wandering the streets alone when I’m not here.” 

Nodding, you secured the communicator on you visible for him to see. “It’ll be fine, Din. You’ve taught me well.” 

Shoulders dropping, he sighed deeply. Something muttered in Mando’a you couldn’t translate leaving his mouth as only a sliver of his alpha was allowed to seek out your comfort. His gloved hand stroked the side of your cheek before turning to hop into the pilot’s seat. Stepping back he called you before closing the top. “Tell Fett to behave himself around you until I get back.” 

Your head jolted back for a second, confused, “What?” 

If there was a smirk on his face, you heard it loud and clear. “Just until I get back, Cyra’ika.” There was little fanfare watching him take off, mostly because the Starfighter just moved at astounding speeds. It would be interesting to see what she’ll feel like with the new hyper drive. 

Tucking everything against your chest securely, you took more than a few minutes getting yourself confident enough to make the trip there. A combination of the last time you were there, it was still the days a brand sat plastered on your neck with the world muted heavily on suppressants. Also, it was the first time on a speeder bike in the drivers seat, without Din also there hands on your waist and gentle words encouraging you. 

But you were under Din’s instructions, and in terms of his protectiveness towards you, his rules were followed and you trusted them whole heartedly. So your insecurity had to be shoved down for at least a number of hours. 

At least there was significantly less risk going by yourself to what was formerly known as Jabba’s Palace this time around, all on your own. The sands of Tatooine were bright and lifeless, not much to watch your back in the kind of way ones may have in the past. 

Sat high on a ragged cliff were the highest of the towers stemming up from the hidden depths of the building below. The main entrance was just as foreboding as memory told, large and fortified to the degree you wondered if it was built such a way for posturing rather than practicality. 

Wincing as you climbed off the bike, you yanked off the old dusted helmet tossing it onto the seat as you walked up. Unsure where to even place your eyes, you debated heading around the long way for where you knew a hanger was. Just as your feet turned in place, a metal slot opened shooting out an extended arm with a circular eye glowing red at the end. 

Looking you up and down, the gatekeeper droid seemed to be scanning for weapons. Slowly, you let it watch your hand reach for the blaster at your side, holding it up by the ends away from the trigger as it considered you for a moment. Telling it your name you kept your other hand up for the droid to keep it’s eye on. “I’m here to see Boba Fett. I have business with him and Fennec Shand.” 

In an instant, the droid flew back inside and the slot slammed shut leaving you in the bright sand. A second passed as you considered what to do, when the large doors slowly rose open. Just high enough for you to walk safely under there was a Gamorrean there watching you. Jumping back you were about to bend to put the blaster down, when he barked something at you and gestured you down the vast empty corridor. 

Raising your eyebrows, you slowly brought the blaster towards your side watching the guard do nothing to stop you. Either you were already deemed welcome, or just looking at you the guard could tell you weren’t any kind of a threat to anyone inside here. 

Sheathing it, you slowly begun walking down the hall as the dim light faded along with the door lowering closed once more. The corridor itself was large, so much so that even a crowd of Hutt’s could fit themselves in no problem. Your boots barley making a sound as you walked through, trying to recall through the fog.

Following in a line should lead you to twist that narrowed down to a stairwell surrounded by blocking rocks carved around them. The activity was silent and not bustling with life as was the time you had been here. Dragged through the crowds with a chain around your wrist to keep your slaver from losing you to the wandering eyes. Not that you noticed. 

Many of your slave owners in that time kept you completely dosed. Sensing that your presentation would stir up whatever alpha’s were in the vicinity they kept you on heat suppressants for years to keep them from ever happening, which in turn, helped keep your scent dulled to that of a mild sweet scent that only the most keen of alphas may not have been able to pick up on. 

The blockers were the worst though. You couldn’t get distracted either, any incidents and you might become damaged property and what good is an omega to sell if she isn’t in pure condition. So you were muted from the world as it was to you. A dreary and fog filled mind that made the beings around you barley feel like human. The effects were worse depending on who was giving them to you, and being dragged to Jabba’s palace, you were effectively a walking sedation. 

The unaware confusion and bumps were replaced with the clarity that there was little but silence until you reached the turn leading to the main room. Slowly what sounded like faint talking, rose up to defiance and yelling. Pressing yourself against the wall, your heart sped up in your chest. The one voice was enraged, but the other was deep and scarring with absolutes. “Whatever arrangement you had with Fortuna, ended with him.”

You could hear Boba Fett further in the room, just enough solace to have you slink a number of steps along the wall before your toes reached the top of the steps. “I made a deal with Jabba, not him. But at least he had the honour to uphold that deal unlike you.”  

Peeking around the wall, you could see not much except for the shadow of a tall, lean figure that even in posture was clearly irate. Fett through his modulator was without question, the power and deepness rippled through your veins in a way only one other had done so. His voice speaking to whomever was there. “If I were anything like my predecessors, you would have been in the stomach of a rancor already for this disrespect. If you want to be treated with the same respect, earn it. Otherwise you stay at the bottom like all the others who’ve tried me.” 

Biting your lip in surprise, the other party begun taking the steps up. Slowly the red tinted scales matched the steam he no doubt wished was coming out of his ears. Kneeling down, you could see with each word he was being told, the snarl on his twisting face morphed. Hand at his own side twitching until he made it only a third of the way up.

Body stopping in place, he turned back to the main room, hand now touching the blaster at his side. A silent exhale through your nose, you very slowly took your feet down. Back pressed against the wall and each foot step slow as you matched the position towards your own weapon as your heart pounded out of your chest. 

The slimy rage coated your ears unpleasantly as you came close behind him. “Maybe this little war of yours will teach you what happens when you turn your back on your allies, Fett.” You barley felt your lungs even work, pulling your blaster out the same painfully slow speed that he was. Your eyes wide and hands trying not to shake, you took one final step behind his back. “Or I could just do it for them.” 

His hand rose up, blaster ready to fire until you rung the shot out firstt. The force jolting you back slightly, but there now was a burning hole in the Elomin’s chest. Blaster dropping from his hand to the ground, you lowered your aim. Coming up behind him, you breathed deeply before rising your boot up to kick him over out of your way. 

Him slumping over to the ground, you took the final steps down before kicking the blaster away from his still hand. Stepping over his feet, you looked up as you put your own back to see the throne room empty save for the one figure. 

Standing partway up the steps, Boba Fett stood clearly having just turned around to fire only to have seen the man slump over before. Lowering his own, your exhale was much calmer this time around as he tilted his head at you. Down a smaller corridor closer to him, Fennec appeared with her own weapon out, but with narrowed eyes dropped it just as fast at the sight. 

Her disposition changing as her eyes dragged up to you, now moving with a lighter bounce towards Boba whose stance relaxed back. “Thought you’d get here when Mando’s back.” 

Sighing out, you walked further into the room. Boots making a notable clunk as you walked along the gated doors cemented in the floor. Head turning to glance down but nothing was visible to the naked eye. “Should I leave and come back?” 

Boba chuckled, watching your curiosity with that of his own. “Nonsense. This place could use an omega, dim enough around here as it is.”

Looking back up, Boba stood on the lower level closer to you while Fennec perched herself casually on the arm of the throne. “Good to know I’m still a useful piece of decoration after all this time.” Behind you the steps of the Gamorrean filed down as he barked more into the air. 

Boba only nodding once to the body at it’s feet. “Get rid of that.” Like nothing at all, you remembered why many crime lords used them as guards. Pulling the Elomin away like it weighed nothing. Turning back to him, you almost jumped at how close he was. 

Both he and Din were far too silent for two fully armoured men of their sizes. “He said it would be safer here then back in the city.” Watching you, it was hard to assess where he stood with you. At this point you could read Din’s slight shifts as good as full sentences, but Boba Fett was still a mystery. One sending shivers down at the black visors cold stare that only intimidated you in such an enticing way back working behind the cantina bar in Navarro. 

But Boba, if you could guess anything, seemed to enjoy making you squirm under his stare. Keeping it up in pure quiet unlike Din’s change of smooth causality to relax you. “Unless-”

“He’s right. No safer place then with us, little one.” 

Eyes flickering to Fennec who watched you with a playful curiosity of her own. Strange as it was, you sort of missed her teasing yet sharp and unquestioning aura. Nodding, you readjusted your bag, if just out of fidgeting nerves. “Okay, so, uhm, what now?” 

Veins flowing with something that burned the way he stared at you, a feeling that wasn’t determined in your strange state. Broken only by Fennec coming up behind him unphased. “How about a tour?” 

Raising your eyebrows, you failed to hold back a smile. “That in your new job description?” In an exaggerated flourish with a deadpan stare she gestured you down the corridor she had come in through. Taking a second to speak quietly with Boba once you moved out of their range. Glancing around, not much had changed it seemed but it was a large room now that you stood in it so freely. 

Turning for just a second as she caught up with you, you caught his eye. Helmet turned a fraction to the side right at you, there was a wave shivering through your chest that had you swallowing nervously. A moment lasting only seconds before you let Fennec give you the run down of this place. 

By evening, the city was ramping up just as the suns disappeared and a calming night washed over the empty dunes. Despite such a high up point, the sight of the planets lands below in the dim early evening light did no such comfort, but not quite for the events to surely follow. 

Hearing the sound of armour, you perked up just as fast as you then deflated. It was of no offence to Boba, but he held a different kind of scent then Din. Just as strong, and strangely alluring but his alpha felt cooling and in control, whereas Din’s was warm and overwhelming. Your fingers twitched on the edge of the balcony as you returned to the skies.

Foolish to think he would just arrive as you seeked him out. You were the one who didn’t go with him, you had no right to miss him. For a second, the hiss of a helmet being removed startled you alert and straight. Coming down only at Boba’s light chuckle. “Didn’t think I looked that bad.” 

His voice bare sounded less scratching, more like a scarred rasp that you wondered if it was a result of the same events that left the physical ones on his face. Eyes flickering over as he came to stand next to you, you gave half a smile for as long as your energy could muster it. “Sorry. Should be used to it by now.” 

Shaking his head dismissively, his own gloved hands mimicked your position. “Nothing to be sorry for, little one. There’s few people who see me without it, but you’re welcome to be one of them.” 

It should feel like an honour, but your heart had little room. Leaning down to rest your forearms on the edge, your legs leaned back by the knee to accomodate stretching your back for a second before relaxing into the stance. There was no uncomfortable feeling in the quiet between you, but something seemed to be picking at your brain. “Your father was a foundling, right?” 

Out of your peripheral vision you could see him turn slightly to you and nod. Biting your lip for a second before continuing. “If he was a foundling, that would make you one as well. Since he raised you.” 

“Is there a question in there?” 

You inhaled your nerves, and blew none back out. “Why would Bo Katan say you aren’t a Mandalorian then? I mean,” Your hands moved to dig at the others nails mindlessly. “On top of everything else she said.” 

Suspecting he knew you were going prying for information in a much more roundabout way, you were still glad he played along. “Kyrze believes in blood supremacy. She was born to a powerful family thus she feels power belongs in her hands by birthright. Outsiders brought in are looked at as less then.” He noted the still somewhat confused narrowing look in your eyes. “I share the exact dna of thousands upon thousands of other clones. To her, my blood is as far as worthy it could get.” 

To even your surprise you jumped in before he could even finish his sentence. “But it’s not about who you’re born to, it shouldn’t matter if you’re a clone. D- Mando’s a foundling, a lot of people in his covert are foundlings they’re supposed to be treasured.” 

“Like omega’s are supposed to be.” 

Whipping around to look wide eyed at him, only to fall flat at the teasing glint in his eye. Shoulders deflating as you turned back to the view a shake of your head. Boba rested one palm on the railing as he turned towards you, mind putting your pieces together. “How about you tell me what’s really bothering you, and I can stop guessing the wrong answers.” 

A shake trembled in your neck and slid further down into your muscles. The trains of thought in your mind pathing you from grievance to grievance wondering what it was it all stemmed from and truly there was only one answer. The same answer you tried avoiding with everyone. 

Boba’s own stare weakening your resolve, forcing you to once again look back into the night for a ship that still wouldn’t come. Breathing deep for a moment before the racing of your heart got out of control. “Everyone talks about my presentation like it means something. Looking at where I’m from and telling me that they lied about where we came from or who we were when I already know that. I knew my family lied the second I was taken off world and the planets and people were nothing like the vicious monsters they made you all out to be. I thought, maybe if I could get out of this one day, finally be free to do as I please, I’d be my own person again.” 

Jaw set, you dug your nails into the harsh railing of the balcony. “But I’m still just an omega. I’m important, I’m uncommon, I belong to these people, no I belong with the people my mother was apart of, I’m supposed to be treasured as a rare commodity to Mandalorians but all I’ve done is get passed around from group to group solely beacuse of a presentation I can’t control. I’m seen as an omega, and so everyone thinks their the ones entitled to have me. Except...” 

Boba seemed to stand closer to your side now, his voice quieter but deeper as it hit your ear. “Except for Djarin.” Without committing in whole, you glanced only for a fraction to the man beside you but said nothing. “He wondered why you never asked him about you or your kind, when clearly he knew.” 

Saying nothing to answer the question he posed, it was obvious he wanted you to fill in the blanks for yourself. It was easy to strip away the barriers and see what was always there. “Because I went to him, not the other way around.” 

“To the others, you are a commodity. Who gets the omega, those her kind were stolen from or people like Kryze’s kind who wanted you out of the way in the first place.” You never did like the suspicious way Bo Katan looked at you, but Din was always there to keep you firmly at his side. "In a way you are right. There probably aren’t many people who see you as anything more then an Omega. But the ones that want you for more then that are already here. Or, in spirit.” 

His head gesturing to the night sky. Two people he meant in that case. So many people obsessed with what you were, and where you belonged or didn’t belong. Something you slowly came to realize, was a common threat amongst both Din and Boba as well. An apostate and an outcast, both alongside an omega who had no idea what her place in the galaxy was outside them. 

“What about you?” Turning your head enough to see him meet your eyes, a knowing deepness in them which you didn’t even catch in yourself. Not sure what it was you truly were asking. “You were asking me-” 

“The polite thing to do when getting to know someone is to ask questions.” Pausing, you squinted at him in slight confusion until the smirk forming on his own face made yours fall flat. “I’m interested in where you came from, because I find you interesting. Just as Djarin does.” 

Taking a step towards you, you straightened up as your lungs tightened in something feeling like a strange set of nerves, not quite stemming from intimidation. Before he found himself intimately close in your space, you found your habits slipping back. “I’m sorry. For dumping all of this on you. I just, I’m not used to being away from Mando without even having the kid, everything just feels weird.” 

Those very nerves turned into shivers flowing through your veins as Boba tilted your chin up to look him in the eye. “Nothing to apologize for, little one. You’re confused and upset,” the knuckles under your chin traced up so his thumb and brushed over your cheek, then down very gently across your bottom lip. 

You had never seen the exact look glazing over Boba’s eye in Din, but the feeling it gave you was all too familiar. The interested pull of an alpha calling to you. “Boba?” He hummed in response, “Is there a reason Mando wanted me to tell you to behave?” 

Oh the chuckle which emerged deep within his chest pulled your soul even closer in ways you once felt purposely from Din. “He sends me his pretty, little omega to protect. One who defends my honour, and opens up about what’s hurting her? I can’t imagine why he’d want me to behave myself around that.” 

His thumb pulled slightly at your bottom lip before sliding off of you entirely. Turning away to pick his helmet up, “You should sleep. Fennec will want to train you more in the morning while we have the time. Once Djarin arrives, I suspect thing’s are going to escalate rather quickly.” 

He almost reached the door by the time you called out for him, his face still just as warm as it was listening to you throw up whatever troubles brewed in your head. “Will be be mad at me? For not going with him to see Grogu?” 

Expression not changing, the quiet tenderness spoke out in his tone. “I don’t think there’s anything you could do to make him feel that way. Not with the way he speaks about you to me at least.” 

Your lips parted slightly, but he gave nothing else. Leaving the room and thrusting you back into the quiet solace of the dark windy balcony. Your brain stuck in a whirlwind. 

Sick to the stomach of feeling as if you have failed your duties as an omega to protect and support your family, but twisted over what the world wanted from you as the very same presentation. Boba’s warmth wasn’t quite the same, it would never quell the yearning to see Din again. 

But it did bring you a comfort that no one outside that little clan of two had ever provided before. If you were lost in your place in this world, maybe it meant something that the connection you felt with both men, also had their own turmoil of where and how to belong amongst their people as well. 

As it turned out, he was painfully right. Factions gathered, and the Pykes moved in quickly. Whatever negotiations their enforcer Cad Bane had assumed would take place were refused and the violence followed suit leaving little people left on your side. It was a mess, and left you feeling terribly out of your depth. 

Making it worse, you had no idea what happened on Din’s journey. Everything moved too fast and neither of you had time to talk. Just a questioning hopeful look from you, and a stilted head shake of no from Din and a sorrow sat upon his shoulders as danger loomed closer. 

Fighting ensued, and you were grateful that Fennec was a relentless mentor. Pushing you enough in the day and morning prior, building a trust that you could and would follow her lead out on the streets enough to handle yourself when she needed it. Her focus kept you focused. 

She was skilled on the sidelines, left better out the line of fire as a silent take down. A trait in which she recognized was suitable in you, even if by both your admissions, you were nothing close to a fighter. But in war, being a lesser suited follower was fine by you. 

Impossible to say how long the confrontation lasted, but the silence in the streets felt as if it was a sound you hadn’t heard in years. Leaning up against a wall, you shrugged part of your upper arm from the top of your shirt. Fennec coming to crouch at your side as you poured a bit of water of a burn striked through your skin from the dirt and sand kicked up into it. Wincing at the stinging, you glanced up to her and back. “Pretty sure only have a graze is a miracle if you ask me.” 

A slight smile on her face, Fennec reached forward to pull your shirt down better, gently taking the container to do it at an easier angle. “You did better then you think. Just because fighting isn’t your thing doesn’t mean your bad at it. You have a good teacher.” 

Smirking through the final wince as she dragged the fabric backup, “Yeah, I’ll be sure to pass the message onto Mando.” 

Briefly considering helping you up gently, Fennec resorted to just tossing the container onto your lap and standing up alone. “You always get bratty when you’re injured?” 

Throwing your head back in a laugh, you pushed yourself up with palms pressing against the wall behind you. “Maybe next time you should teach me how to do more then mouth off.”  Sharing a laugh, she led you to where the others were gathered in all likelihood. 

From a distance, you could see a rancor, flopped down on it’s side breathing heavily in sleep visible from where you were. But the image became clearer as you approached. 

In the stories of the old world your father told you, they were always grand. Powerful vivid images painting in your head from the words spun of drama and theatrics. Reunions one of those stories always told in whimsy. But there was none to be found here, not in your confused, torn heart. 

He was small, and cuddled next to the rancor on his side, but Grogu’s little green figure was easy to spot from miles away. Stopping mid step, the sights in front of you didn’t quite catch up to your brain. How was he here, Din hadn’t come back with him not by the weightful dread on his shoulders. 

Peli was also here. For some reason. Talking to the one from the meeting that you couldn’t quite tell was annoying or just a bit of a coward. The sight was unusual, but you could see the silver shining off Din’s beskar as he slowly approached the slumbering pair. Steps careful around the large creature, before kneeling down. 

His hand gently running over Grogu’s side who shifted closer into his touch. Din scooping him up in his arm to let him sleep soundly. None of them had seen you yet, and maybe you didn’t want them too. A fleeting thought that stabbed another dagger into your omega’s heart and told your conscious self that you weren’t worthy of that soft, gentle love they gave each other. 

Din’s attention was solely on the kid, cradling him up to watch him as he ran his hand over what he could get. Before you could rationalize it, you took a step back. No plan, what or where to go, but intruding on it felt wrong now. You didn’t go to see him int he first place. Why would you deserve to be apart of this reunion? 

Heart screaming to go see both of them, let yourself hold the one your soul treated as your own and the man who gave you a love once never known before. Your eyes stung like the burn on your upper arm, and before the tears could so obviously overtake you, you let them have this together. 

There was no plan in your head, just the need to get back to the palace where your stuff was and hoping reason and logic would kick in by that point. Instead all you got was more of a memory that made it feel worse. The terror of Din telling you to take the child and leave him. That he needed you, and staying here to help was futile. You could still feel the desperate way Grogu clung to you as you carried him from the room, both of you leaning into the other. Grogu’s scared and exhausted head burrowed into your front, as you looked at IG-11. 

Pleading in your gaze to fix things, you and Grogu might be able to do this together but neither wanted to do it without Din. The binding that kept you three whole. Only the memory didn’t serve as some great analogy like your father tied into his tales. 

Din and Grogu started without out, they didn’t need you. Everyone offered someplace for you to go, a purpose to serve but the only one you wanted didn’t feel as if you were worthy. You failed as an omega to Grogu, and a fierce alpha such a Din would surely admonish you it. If you thought the palace was quiet before, it was even moreso now. 

The biggest threat to his rule this far was taken care of, so hopefully this silence would turn peaceful not stay eeiry as it was now. The bag was tossed onto whatever bed you found yourself falling into the night before. Chucking your blaster beside it, you dragged your feet over. The first thing you saw though, was that silly little frog you kept for him. 

It was stupid. Din gave him what he needed, and more then plenty of what he wanted. The pieces of why Grogu found his way back to Din unknown, but you didn’t see yourself in that future. Slowly picking it up you could still see the way the kid clung it to his chest, making a content little cooing noise only to immediately get upset when you tried to get up and leave him be. How normal it was for the kid to switch between cuddling with Din and cuddling with you, and the excitement on his face when he wanted you to watch him about to do something particularly silly, usually to Din. 

Nothing had felt right since your heat had ended. Where you and Din stood was unknown, he was closer and protective of you, his touch similar to that of one bonded to you, and yet you were ummated. Just a companion who filled a painful emotional void once his son was gone, and now that they were together you failed to picture that dynamic going anywhere. 

He didn’t need to look for the Jedi now, he had enough of a ship to start making his way across the galaxy in his own quest for atonement and so your usefulness had worn out. Maybe you’d stay here if you could convince Boba you could find some way to be useful at all. 

No plan was made still. You had no idea that you even had passed out. The strenuous events of the day, the emotional turmoil of the past weeks and the fear you were no longer wanted had piled too high on the very little sleep you managed to get. 

Totally unaware of your surroundings, you weren’t at all aware of the voices in the room or the weight on the bed that joined you. In fact, such presence was only realized, when the weight on the bed seemed to jump, and land at your side with a high pitched coo. Sound increasing in distress until it was at your face and snuggled right up beside your head. 

Once your eyes fluttered open, big black ones wasted no time in realizing it. Grogu say on his side in front of you, one ear flopped out while the other sat low on his face as he reached out to you. Little hand brushing your cheek before a stubborn little noise flew from his mouth and he jumped almost with no effort right into your neck that managed to push you back. 

“Easy, Grogu.” He almost whined defiantly at the voice behind him, as he held onto you much like that very day. Following you sitting up so your back was against the wall, he started looking between you and the voice, dawning on you it belonged to Din. 

Head whipping over, Din stood by the wall underneath a window. Boba a few feet away, amused at the kid’s antics. Before you could even ask, Din stepped over, sitting down to face you on the opposite side of the bed. Bag and blaster now sat neatly on a surface opposite the bed. “I wasn’t allowed to see him when I got there, saying it was bad for his training for me to be there.” 

Instantly, your brows narrowed, but Boba interrupted right as you opened your mouth. “The real enemy to the Jedi. A loving family.” Your sleep riddled brain couldn’t decipher the double meaning in his tone, but you remembered Ahsoka telling you she couldn’t train Grogu because of how attached he was. That Din was a father to him and that somehow would get in the way. 

“Fett.” Boba raised his hands in surrender at his tone. Din turning back, watching Grogu turn his head, still wanting you to hold him but watching Din with bright affection. “I asked them to give him the shirt, and left. He was right there,” Din’s hand reached out, stroking one of the kid’s long ears making him purr into your chest. “But he came back anyways. He returned to us, of his own accord.” 

The hand on Grogu slipped up to trace over your cheek. “I thought if you could see him, maybe it would make you feel better, but maybe it was better you didn’t come. If I could barley handle it, not sure tearing an omega away from her own foundling a second time would do you any good.” 

It should have clicked that it was unusual Din was having this conversation with you, a third party in the same room. But clicking the gears in your head into place, Boba mentioned both of them had talked about you. To what extent the back of your brain was asking. 

Looking at the space between you on the sheets, just a whisper was summoned. “After everything, I didn’t think it was fair to be just as lost as you, me being upset didn’t matter as long as you were more lost.” 

Boba’s presence was felt behind you now, giving your trio space but never quite enough keep away, which was fine with you. Din leaned in, pulling the back of your neck to keep you close, resting his forehead against yours. Chuckling as Grogu leaned in, gently leaning in the middle, and leaving your touch enough to rest a hand against the side of his helmet. “Our kind belongs together, mesh’la. Not just our presentations, but us. We’re in this together. Got it?”

Biting your tongue, you forced a choking feeling back down your throat for another time. Your hand moving to cover the little one of Grogu’s on Din’s helmet and briefly, Din covered both of yours with his free one. The serene moment ruined, by Grogu letting out a yawning whine as he dropped in both your touches. 

Pulling back, you let Din pick him up. “Alright. Back to sleep, kid.” Seemingly only going into a small room attached to this one, Din chuckling at a little sound Grogu made in his arms. “I know, well this is what happens when you play with a creature eight times your size.” 

Pulling your knees up to rest your forearms over, you watched Boba with a curious look. If he was here not just now, but this whole time, the two Mandalorians must have something up their sleeve and Maker knows you have no idea what they had put together. “Is there...something feels off here.” 

His eyebrows raised in a mocking way that didn’t quite match the play in his eyes. “Only if you want it to be.” The deepness in his tone rippling through you in a way annoyingly like Dins. “It’s all up to you.” 

The sound of a door sliding shut had you looking up to Din, now leaning against the door with his thumb looped through part of his utility belt and the other resting his forearm up on the door frame. A sight that was so simple, yet heated your blood noticeably. “Am I missing something?” 

Din stepped towards you, a hand reaching out for you to take. Letting him pull you up gently, he stood tall in front of you. “I’ve been trying to think of a way to get you out of your head. You’ve been on edge since your heat, and I hate watching you this way.” 

Fingers gently reaching to brush against the cool metal of his chest plate, you shook your head indignantly. “D- Mando,” 

“You can say my name, sweet girl.” You had no idea what was going on here, but you were being pulled so close to the warmth of in’s alpha, but also, part of you in another direction. A pull that Din would be able to sense, and yet, was allowing. 

Swallowing, you didn’t realize Boba stepped closer towards you. “Din, I’ve been trying to be there for you, you don’t need to do anything.” 

“Except he does.” Turning your body partially, you felt Din’s hands fly firmly onto your waist in no time and turned you to press your back against his chest fully. Boba only a few feet away, keeping a respectable distance unbecoming of the darker look in his tone and voice to boot. “An alpha can’t ignore their omega in distress, your pain becomes his. And best be sure you’ve consumed Djarin, little one.” 

Din’s hands tightened with his voice closer to your ear. “Not just me.” 

Your Mandalorian behind you, and Boba a step closer looming over you. “What are you-” 

Din’s hands trailed up, sliding just under your shirt to squeeze slightly at the plush skin he found underneath. “You say no, and this all stops.” Apparently Din expected a response, tightening his grip as he spoke sharper. “Okay?” 

Nodding fervently at his tone, it made your head spin. “Okay.” 

Pulling you closer into his chest, Din’s rasp even behind the modulator continued to destroy something inside of you, weakening your resolve to his touch. “Let us take you, mesh’la. Both of us.” Your mouth parted slightly, eyes trapped on Boba which if you could think clearly, was likely by Din’s design. His rasping words and touch, ached still further by Boba’s dark and intimidating eyes that raked over your body. “Get you out of your head.” 

Your gaze never left Boba’s even as you tilted slightly back towards Din. “Both of you?” 

Din nodded, and so did Boba. Oh this could not be what they both discussed about you, yet here you are. Boba took his turn to make a softer case, letting your true alpha pull your senses underwater as he gently swims his way over. “The only thing anyone’s asking of you, is to let us treat you like a kind, sweet,” Each word he stepped towards you until he was in your space just inches further away then Din was to you. “Pretty, omega you are.” 

Your breathing heaved as his own gloved hand traced your bottom lip just like he did before. Din’s comment for Boba to behave. There was no way they discussed this before, and yet? The protectiveness, the possessive feeling which could consume Din at the sight of other men, another alpha looking or touching you as if you really were just property weren’t there. “But Din-”

Giving you once last reassurance. “It’s okay to say no, mesh’la. But don’t just say it on my account. I want you to want it.” 

The air was stark and silent as you contemplated what on earth you were about to get yourself into, but there was a heat radiating from within and burned almost painfully as Din touched, you pressing you against his back to where he was losing his patience to hide how hard having you pressed against him like this made him. 

Din’s own mind both needing this yet confused at why he needed this. There was an angry possessive feeling he had around you, but Boba Fett came to be someone he trusted. And someone who he could trust with you. Putting you between them and forcing this constant looming anxiety in your heart out even if just for a time. One wouldn’t be enough, but between both of them? You’d have nothing left to focus on but their touch and their words and that’s the level of control Din wanted you to give up. 

Watching Boba touch you was going to be a jealousy that he didn’t know why he was willing to handle, but just maybe it’s beacuse you didn’t get to see how you looked together. Never having the gift of sight as Din touches you, only he knew how insatiable you made him and how addictive you looked writhing in pleasure. 

And he knew, you didn’t get to look at Din as much as you wanted. Always ready to let him blindfold you like an obedient omega so make sure he can take as much as his greedy mind needed. But if Boba was there, Din could sacrifice that just this once. 

You breathed heavily as Boba brushed over your lips, and it was Din’s words right in your ear that crumbled the insecurity keeping you from letting them take you as they wished. 

“Let him kiss you, mesh’la.” Looking back at him, he pushed you forward gently. “It’s okay.” 

It was an overwhelming feeling. The guilt of such an intimate act with another man, but the purring encouragement from Din to just let yourself give up control in their hands. Your hands hovered over Boba’s chest plate, fingertips only slightly making shaking contact. 

Din behind you undoing parts of his own armour almost turning your focus before Boba tilts you up to look at him under your chin. Leaning in he gave you plenty of time to back away, brushing his nose against yours feeling his breathe on your face. 

One hand grabbing your hip, and the other keeping his hold he teased bridging the gap but never sealing the deal. Din’s voice rang out, commanding an order from deep within, calling your omega to obey. “Mesh’la.” 

Jumping in your bones, you pushed up on your toes to press your lips against Boba’s. A small sigh coming from you as your hands continued to shake despite smoothing your palms out. And as soon as you crossed that initial barrier, Boba overtook the control from you immediately. 

Comparing the two of them is impossible. They are of completely different realms in nature with their touch. Boba is like a wildfire. Bursting at the seams from the onslaught, running hot and dangerous that can consume you if you let it do so. Once in it’s trap, escape only possible if it lets you. 

Deepening the kiss, you could feel your lips swell and bruise from the rough treatment, and once he bit the bottom lip he was so enraptured with, you gasped. Not just a gentle teasing nibble like Din, no should he have bit slightly harder he would’ve drawn blood. Your gasp was as much of a whine, his hand raking into your hair and tightening his grip to continue to move you. 

His tongue brushing into your mouth, tasting your own and coaxing you to follow suit. Your hands rising to dig into his cowl as he kissed and licked into your mouth until you had to pull back for air. Grabbing both your hands he pulled them in front to the side of his chest plate. “Undress me, little one.” 

It was hard to tell if they used their presentation to command you, or if having two of them in the room like this was just turning your brain into sludge. Nodding fervently, you swallowed trying to focus hard on taking each part of his armour off with care, just like you do Din’s. Who had ideas of his own. 

Pulling you into his chest once more, only now you felt much more the softer press of his body without the coolness of the armour at his back. Slightly pouting at not being able to do it for him. Din pulled your outer layer down your arms and stood back to let you continue. 

Hesitating once his upper body was done, you look up to Boba wide eyed in question. Shaking as he nodded, raking his hand through your hair once again as you knelt down. Your body feeling like it truly was becoming surrounded by fire at how this position felt, but you made sure to take your time undoing every piece, putting it down gently to where you now could see Din’s not too far away. Stacked just the way you do it. 

Looking up at Boba, now like Din, just in his flight suit, you ran your hands innocently up the length of his calves. “May I?” Dancing up to the bottom of his shirt, Boba chuckled. Watching slowly as you stood up. Hands raising his shirt as you did so until you stood in front of him. He did no work. Watched with dark amusement as you had to lean close into him to pull it off until it was down his arms. 

Din’s touch, crowded you just then. None of the patience, Din pulled your shirt and chest band up and off in one swoop. Not yet touching you he kept his arms around you, one on your hip the other by your mouth. “Bite.” 

Gently taking the leather between your teeth he pulled it off letting you see his hand as he yanked his other glove off and gently took the other from you. Finally able to look, you realized you didn’t really get the chance to see Din the way you could look at Boba now. 

Greedily reaching to run your hands over his large chest, eyes trapped on every scar, burn, gunshot that was painted on no doubt a story to follow. You didn’t know Din’s by sight, but you knew them by touch, so you did the opposite. 

Fingers tracing only lightly across each mark as you barley blinked staring at him. The heat in your limbs travelling between your legs. Skin rough in some places and soft in others you reached down to his pants and gently tucked the seam into your fingers. Not waiting for permission, you went to slowly move when Din did the same to you. 

Yanking your bottoms down, underwear in his grasp in one go. Tossing them aside. You whined in your chest as you felt his rough hands now bare run across your skin while you gently finished undressing Boba. Another sight you never got to see, but the heat between your legs now felt much like a need. 

He was a large and thick man, in more places then one including his cock. Thick and begging for your touch it was more then half hard. His hand thumb traced your bottom lip and tugged, gaining your attention. His eyes black as anything as his face twisted in a more aggressive harshness then the soft patience before. “Small mouth to fit such a thick cock.” 

Your thighs squeezed together as you ran your hands up his thighs glancing back at his length. Shuffling closer, you reached up to run your thumb and forefinger over his leaking tip. His legs steeled in a flex at the sensation along with his muscles constricting. Running them up and down his length slightly before gently cradling him close to the base of his cock. Almost like a kitten, you licked gently over the tip. Each time slipping more of him inside your mouth. 

Knees engaged each side of you as Din’s helmet soothed your sweating skin and leaned into the back of your head. His own hands running over your thighs but much firmer then your touch. He said nothing, but the more of Boba’s cock you slipped into your mouth the more overwhelmed you felt. Boba it seemed, was just as talkative in the bedroom as Din, but with one small difference. 

Boba took pleasure in being mean, and you only got more wet the more he talked. “Djarin’s far too easy on you it seems. Go on, little one you can fit more then that.” Sliding more in, you could feel Din run down to rub gently at your clit, making you moan around Boba’s cock. 

Almost like he couldn’t help himself, he ran his fingers over your throat as you slowly took more of him into your mouth. Full and overwhelmed you felt your nerves on fire as much as the fingers on your clit rubbed harsher, pushing more pressure into you as your mouth soaked the thickness inside it. 

Head starting to bob up and down, you felt tears at the corner of your eyes as well as your heart pounding each time you tried taking him deeper. “All the way this time, that’s it.” You cried around his cock as your nose pressed against the coarse hair around his pelvis soaking as saliva built and even dipped from your mouth the deeper he kept himself in. 

Din’s touch on your clit making you burn and shake wanting so desperately to grasp onto his arms but they were firmly set on Boba’s thighs as you slid his cock in and out of your mouth. “I knew you’d have such a filthy mouth, just not such a messy one.” His fingers swiping the saliva on your skin before tipping your gaze up slightly to see your eyes fluttering. “You wet from his fingers, from sucking my cock or are you just that much of a little greedy omega?” Moaning once more you felt him throb in your mouth as you felt almost lightheaded. 

One of Din’s hands slid up, groping at one of your breasts, fingers twisting your nipple enough to make you want to arch back into his touch, but he only shushed you gently in your ear. Your breathing already strained feeling that much weaker at how much your body wanted to writhe at Din’s touch. 

“Your girl like a mess, Djarin?” 

Both of Din’s hands stopped moving for a second, like he was contemplating something before he slid his hand down, shoving between your thighs as much the angle could offer. Sliding two thick fingers smoothly into your soaked pussy he groaned just quiet enough you could hear it. The one on your breast moved down to your stomach. “No, just greedy.” 

Din’s helmet now resting on your shoulder thrusting his fingers in and out with such little resistance and every slide of Boba’s cock making you clench that much harder. Groaning louder at how much he could see your wetness from even here, his other hand stroking your stomach with his thumb. Refusing to let you wince or flinch at your insecurity. No, he wanted you on full display. 

Boba’s hand raking around the opposite side of your head he pulled you into him close as he could, feeling him twitch inside of your mouth before letting go. “Fuck, such a filthy fucking thing, that’s right swallow all of it, good girl.” Boba’s cum spilling into your mouth, so close to the back of your throat and the twisting of pleasure Din was bringing you with his fingers made you almost want to cry it was too much. 

Slowly pulling you off inch by inch both men watched a mixture of saliva and cum almost dripping from your gasping mouth as Boba’s cock finally left you. Din’s hand turning you by your neck gently to look partially back at him, the darkness of the visor even contrasted to the gritted teeth and dark panting face of Boba’s. He still brought you comfort as Din brushed mercilessly against a sensitive wall inside of you. “Doing so good for me, sweet girl. So fucking good,” 

Your hands free you reached back to grab at whatever you could of Din as the heel of his palm roughly rubbed your clit as he thrusted them in and out almost rougher then before. Gasping you arched back, unashamed at how much it put your tits almost on display. “Din, please let me cum. Please, I’m so-” 

Whinging you couldn’t even finish your owns entrance as he pressed his other palm hard against your stomach as he sped up enough you could hear how much you soaked him. “Come on, you can cum mesh’la. All for me.” 

“Taking all the credit isn’t your style,” Boba’s voice was further away, rasping with a dash of cheeky as Din pulled you right over that edge. Holding you tight against him as you cried out as your orgasm washed over you. Seizing your muscles tightly in his hold. 

“F-fuck, not ugh, your name she’s crying is it though, Fett?” 

Talking about you like your orgasm wasn’t in his arms and on display it just made you stutter a moan out even as you came down. Pulling his fingers out of you, Din pulled you up with him turning you to face his front. Moving your hands to gently pull his shirt off, you wanted to reach to run your hand over his chest only to get pulled roughly into Boba’s back. “He can have you whenever he wants, so how about you lay out for me?” 

Gently climbing up onto the bed, you could see Boba moving around to the end of it and Din carefully climbing up near the wall behind you. Just as you settled, Boba yanked you towards him at the edge of the bed. Spreading your legs wide to fit himself between. 

“Let’s see if an omega tastes as sweet as she smells.” A man with patience in many aspects of his life, but none as he pulled your hips closer to put his mouth on you. Crying out almost immediately as he licked from your entrance up to your clit. 

Din’s breath stuttering behind you, his eyes behind the helmet stuck on how much you gasped, back arched and legs already tensing in Boba’s hold. Brushing your hair sticking to the sweat of your forehead back, raking gently in his bare fingers like out of everything the soft silky feeling is what had him transfixed. 

Sucking your clit before almost biting it to make you jump, he Boba chuckled deep into your pussy as he licked inside of you. The roughness of his hands but the warmth of his mouth working you over so gently making you moan. Thighs wanting to close, but he kept them wide on the bed as he could force them. Refusing to even give you the reprieve of hanging them over his shoulders. You’d still have some control were he to do so. Your core inside hot and burning, too soon after Din made you cum on his fingers you grasped at your chest mindlessly. 

Only to have Din grab them. Despite pulling your head up to his lap, Boba never faltered. Just moving with the action to keep his mouth tasting you. Din however, wrapped your fingers in each of his before pushing them down on either side of you. His own cock unfairly hard and still confined by his pants, but he needed you to come again. He never gets to fully see how you look cumming on his mouth, but now Din refuses to miss it. 

Shaking in his hold, you were far too close from your last orgasm. The coil inside you twisting and flaming as Boba never faltered in his moves. Feeling a smirk against you as your stomach muscles started to tense up. Your hips lifting from the bed slightly as he pulled you into his mouth from a better vantage. His tongue deep as it could go, you started to loose yourself. 

“You gave me one, mesh’la. Fett deserves one too, for everything he’s done for you.” 

Boba’s nails dug into your skin as he pulled you right over that edge, not even hearing the noise coming from either of them. Just ringing in your ears as you came, falling apart on his mouth that refused to stop licking you up and down until you stopped spasaming. Your senses like you were drifting underwater, only soothed by Din’s soft touch letting your hands go to gently cup one of your breasts again, like the small massaging sensation and gently playing with your nipple just enough of a spark to keep you near the top. 

The two Mandalorians however, had no plans on giving you time to catch your breathe. Like you were a doll light enough to be tossed around, Din manoeuvred you to straddle his lap. Your hands instantly running down his chest, eyes wide at how broad and soft he looked outside of even just his flight suit. 

One of his hands ran up the length of your spine, the other running across your hip over you ass and back down your thigh like a pattern. “Pull me out, sweet girl.” 

Nodding mindlessly, you reached for his bottoms. Thighs clenching around his as you pulled his cock out, long and intimidatingly thick as well. You knew it felt as such but seeing what you had previously fit inside of you made you shiver. Wrapping your hand around it, you ran your thumb over his tip. Gathering as much precum as you could and stroking his cock with it, slow and a light grip that Din never touched himself with. His voice raspy and lustful. “We can do this a few ways, but it’s all up to what you’re comfortable with. We can go easy on you if you’re more comfort-”

Shaking your head furiously, “No, no whatever you want. Both of you, please I want you to do whatever you want,” Turning to see Boba who also was know up on the bed behind you. 

His hand reaching out to keep your head turned on him with his hand on your jaw. “Are you sure?” A second nod yes, had Din groan. Covering your hand with his and tightening your grip on his cock. Boba’s eyes on you. “I’m gonna open you up back here while you sit on his cock.” 

Dins hands reaching behind to pull your ass cheeks apart enough to sting. “Come here, sweet girl. Let me feel you.”

Looking back you propped yourself on his shoulders as Din held you by your hips. Sinking you down was far too easy, from making you cum on his fingers and Boba’s mouth you soaked his cock before even sitting on it fully. Din moaned as he sunk into you fully in one go. His helmet dropping into your chest as his own stomach heaved trying to control himself. 

Your moan was high pitched and needy, hands grasping onto the bit of hair sticking out from his helmet his hands pulled your chest more into him. But as soon as you tried moving, Din held you in place head lifting up to look disapprovingly at you. His tone sharp as his words were short. “Are you in charge?” 

Pausing, you clenched around him, making an even wetter mess already but you shook your head no. Your mind too in the clouds to even joke otherwise. Feeling Din trail his hands up to hold you by the back of your neck and waist. Pulling your forehead to his you shivered at Boba’s hands on your hips. 

His large frame pressing into your back as his hands trailed downwards, squeezing your ass lightly, then rougher each next one. Finally, one of his fingers moving down. Collecting the wetness still soaking you and nearly the bed at that point before moving it back up between your cheeks. 

Stilling briefly as he pressed against your ass, heart racing but your head still in the clouds could do enough to nod. Boba leaning closer to your ear with a deep, “Good girl,” before sliding his finger inside of you. 

Gasping, you pressed into Din more who tightened his grip on your hair, but held you not in comfort but to keep you nice and steady for Boba who was keen on riling you up more as he spoke. “Never been taken here have you, little one?” Chucking deep when you shook your head no. “Not treating her right are you, Djarin? If you’re leaving some of her firsts for me.” 

Sliding the hand on your waist, Din moved his thumb against your clit. “I’m the one filling her pussy nice and full, aren’t I sweet girl?” You moaning just as Boba slid in a second finger and such a moan turned into a whine. Your body on fire, your insides already burning to the ground your body only able to focus on either of what their hands were doing. 

There was a stretch and a burn inside your ass that just two of Boba’s fingers were pulling from you, but the gentle side of a third had you jump. Crying out desperately as Din’s hand in your hair tightened painfully. Voice scattered, you didn’t know if you were even making sense as you writhed in place. “I, fuck, I don’t wanna- wanna upset either of, of you..” 

The hand now loosening, Din slid it down to the back of your neck, pulling you to look at him. His voice as rough as you looked. “You could never, cyra’ika. Fuck, you could never upset me, upset us.” 

Boba leaned into your ear, free hand wrapping around the front of your neck. “You ready to take me, little one? It’ll be a stretch, but I’ve opened you up nice and wet for me.” You swallowed, your eyes on Din and your focus on the their hands but you nodded. “You sure?” You nodded again. “Hold onto him, then.” 

Din sat up better, holding you in his lap. The second Boba started pulling his fingers out, Din thrusted just out of you enough to set your insides alight. Thrusting back in but slowly, forcing you to feel his cock stroke against every inch of inside you as you moaned. 

The slow pace making you lean into him quietly, only to cry at Boba now pressing his cock up against you. Leaning forward, he pulled you out of Din’s hold making you lean back against his shoulder to look up at him. Like they were in sync, Din slowly pulled partway out of you as Boba barley pressed his tip in. 

Din’s final reassurance once more like fired the bullet. “It’s okay, cyra’ika. You can kiss him.” 

This time Boba kissed you, his roughness resuming from before and Boba slowly started to push inside you as Din slowly filled your pussy back up. Your body feeling like it was panicing, heart racing from all the stimulation, but Boba kept slowly filling your ass until he, like Din, was sat fully inside you. 

Pulling his lips from yours, not bothering to hide how deep he had his tongue in your mouth he clenched his jaw at the feeling. “You still with us?” It took you more then a moment to answer, barley with an uh-huh as you clenched around both of them. 

Din’s thrusts slowed down dramatically, his cock almost just grinding in you with painfully gritted teeth hiding behind the helmet. Boba, started to fuck you, but far less gentle. Both of them, feeling the desperation of your omega yearning for more of it. 

You couldn’t describe how it felt to have him pound you from behind that way, it was new and almost so foreign it scared you but you were desperate for it. Crying and moaning only speeding his hips up more and more. The slapping of his skin against yours contrasting with how soaking wet your pussy was with each slide of Din’s cock was obscene. 

Should have made you feel embarrassed but with your body pressed between their chests you couldn’t find yourself to care. “Fucking tight little ass, can barley shove my cock inside you can I?” He pounded harder, your body bouncing more on Din’s from the force. 

“Should feel what her cunt’s like, I’d never-fuck, would get you to fucking leave if you felt her.” Din and him just not speaking to you, but about you and yet it just felt too good. Like they wanted to get you out of your messy head, and to do it, treated you like a you for their pleasure and you were burning on the inside. 

Boba’s voice scratched to hell in your ear, “Gonna let me cum inside your ass, little one? Spill inside you just like Djarin would?” Looking up at him you nodded, Boba sharing a glance with Din that you didn’t see before he kissed you again. 

His cock pounding into you fast, your ass jiggling with the force as Din sped up inside your pussy. Himself leaning back against the wall, watching your face and your body transfixed as his thrusts were slower but far rougher. 

It seemed to sneak up on Boba, his orgasm. A few sudden thrusts almost too fast for you to be able to handle, before he pressed up against your back, head sinking into your neck with a groan. You felt his cock throb inside you before it started to fill you with his cum. Thick and lots of it he fucked you until he was empty. Slowly pulling out, to watch your ass gape without his cock still there to fill it and his cum leaking out of you. 

Din, didn’t waste time. Flipping you around so he was on top of you, pressing deep inside your pussy and fucked hard as soon as you were laid out for him. His cock so painfully hard and desperate to cum inside you, Din was rougher then normal. Your legs wide as possible to the point of strain, and the sound of his hips slapping into yours was loud. 

You didn’t expect it then, but you came from nowhere. Your orgasm splitting inside you and washing over your body as you arched back into the bed. Boba, leaning over to kiss you, his tongue commanding yours as Din started to lose composure. 

“Defect, my perfect girl with the tightest cunt, gonna fill you up okay? Gonna let me spill inside this pussy the way I want, like you deserve- oh fuck, baby,” His helmet dropping into your chest as he held both your hips still as he came. 

Slow thrusts as he too, felt like his cum spilled inside you forever. Your ass still full and whatever leaked out now spread against your cheeks as you were pressed into it from behind. Boba’s lips and tongue swallowing your moans and cries as Din gave a few final pushes. His body shaking from how hard and just how much he came inside of you. 

Both of them, let go of your body very gently. Boba slowing his kiss down to something gentle, before pressing a peck to your swollen lips and one to the bridge of your nose. Din took longer to pull out of you, his cock still half hard from how worked up he got, waiting until he went soft before leaving your soaked warmth entirely. 

You weren’t sure if you passed out, or if you dropped that hard. You felt Din’s touch and his gentle words but not much registered as you tried coming back to your senses. Only really feeling back in the world as you settled against Din in the water. 

Water? 

Looking around, you were in a large tub built into the stone ground like an indoor pool. Leaning back you felt his helmet and arms wrapping around your front. “Welcome back, mesh’la.” 

Laughing lightly, you looked around the room. Not quite a room like a refresher, but it seemed to be solely for the tub in there. “Did I pass out?” 

Din traced his hand over your stomach, “Not quite. You were out of it for a little bit though, thought a bath might help bring you back a little bit.” Smiling weakly you just leaned back into him. Enjoying the quiet. 

A question however poked at your brain, “Where’s Boba?” 

“Checking on the kid. Figured it might be a bit calmer for you to come down from tonight with just me for a little bit.” Pausing he almost sounded worried. “Did you...like it?”

Turning in his arms, you straddled his lap hands on his shoulders much more relaxed this time despite both of you being naked now. “I did. It was...a lot. But I liked it. You were were..” Din suggested the word rough, which made you laugh. “Yeah, but I was going to say safe. I don’t think I’d do anything like that with anyone else. But Boba-” 

“You trust him.” Nodding gently, he ran a hand up and down your back. “So do I. Would you ever want to do it again?” 

Leaning into his forehead you smiled. “I think so. As long as I get just you most of the time.” It wasn’t really obvious that the screaming insecurities didn’t rear their ugly head in that moment. You were stiff, quite sore, but content and snuggling into Din like a loth-cat. 

It was quiet for a bit before you asked about Grogu, only to feel mostly as confused as he did for how he got back. Either he was sent across the galaxy all alone or Peli’s story was just wrong. Either seemed plausible considering what you knew about your curly haired friend and the Jedi. 

Not that everything was perfect, but you felt content. The protectiveness of how Din held you was that of an alpha shielding his omega from the world around you. Din almost brought up the question of mating you, but he wasn’t sure his timing would be the greatest were he to bring up that biting into your neck to mate was all he had been thinking about since he got you in the bath. 

He also had a necklace. Two distinct animal skulls carved of beskar into them for when he did. But for now, you both soaking in this elaborate tub in each others arms would have to do.

Besides, he wouldn’t live down the amount of shit Boba would tease him with for mating you right after letting Boba fuck you the way he did. There might be a bit more of this dynamic to explore. 

He and Boba trusted one another, a companionship that made him trust the other man treat you with the proper respect of a fellow alpha. Omega’s were precious to Mandalorians, but Din didn’t want to share you with his people just yet. 

Sharing your affections with just one other was an acceptable middle ground. Well two others. 

The second you saw Grogu again, the idea of you leaving this little clan became practically impossible.