#hound/nuna

[trixie2023]

😍

What girl doesn’t want a very gorgeous very protective man to step in when a situation like this arises?

Every Dog Has His Day

Chapter 3

Characters: Hound/OC

Summary: Good boys, fuck boys, and the things between

Warnings: Aggression toward women.

A/N: does anyone feel like I should put Mando’a translations in at the end? Would it be helpful?

——-

“Good morning GAR. It’s 0400. What does “o” stand for? Well I can think of a few things but let’s go with Oh maker, I’m ready to hit the rack. Any boys in white care to join me?”

Hound would. In a heartbeat. In a Coruscant minute.

Hound is in the gym early. Really early. He’s never needed much sleep to function at his peak but 0400 is stupid o’clock even for him. He passes the time until the mess opens lifting while Grizzer snores near his armor across the room. Right now the massiff is using his rolled up kama as a pillow and Hound wonders idly how hard it’s going to be to clean the drool off. He’s alone with his thoughts and the radio.

He falls into the steady rhythm of sets and reps. He wasn’t a small vod by any means. There’s been a joke in his batch that the settings had malfunctioned on his pod. He was only a half an inch taller, but he was thicker than his batchmates, not commando big but enough to be noticeable in a line up. Lifting weights kept his bulk from atrophying. He didn’t mind the small layer of fluff over his muscles but he wanted them strong and ready for whatever the Grand Army called him to do.

The radio plays quietly over the weight room’s audio channel. Nuna’s smokey voice is a highlight too late to save a very bad week. Two bombings and a half dozen threats (most, copy cats) had kept the Guard on edge and high alert. He and Grizzer had worked them all, tracking and searching wreckage for survivors. Hound glances at his partner. One too many dead bodies had left the massiff feeling dejected and down. Not even his favorite tug toy or a big meaty bantha knuckle has been able to cheer him up. Hound isn’t feeling much better.

He’s not sure what was causing the surge but he knows he’d give just about anything for it to be over with. On top of that (and a far better distraction than the chaos and death of terrorist attacks), there was still the matter of Nuna herself that had him spun out of sorts. They’d had fun at the Fete, even if it had only been a short time. She hadn’t been faking that and he certainly hadn’t. Maybe he’d come on too strong with the call but, honestly, he’d thought it was cute. Maybe he’d embarrassed her?

He wasn’t ready to give up just yet. It was how he’d gotten his name. Tenacious like a hound. The trainers on Kamino had joked that once he was on a trail he wasn’t giving up ‘til he completed his prime objective.

His prime objective now was getting Nuna Skii’s commlink. And a date.

It didn’t matter that Rule had teased him after his on-air brush-off or that Ryk had given him a look that said he didn’t believe he'd had lunch with anybody let alone Nuna Skii. Hound knew though, and he knew that she’d had fun. If she hadn't, why had she smiled so brightly when he’d asked her questions? Why had she braced her hand on his arm and dissolved into laughter when he said something that was, admittedly, not as funny as it sounded in his head?

The barbell comes to rest on the rack with a clatter. Grizzer looks up from his nap, his great tongue licking lazily at his maw.

“Do you think I’m being stupid?”

The massiff stares blankly.

“Well, yeah, but she did seem interested.”

Grizzer rises slowly, stretching with a groan before ambling over to his partner and laying his head in Hound’s lap. He manages to roll onto his back without losing contact. Hound reaches down to scratch his leathery belly.

“Yeah, well, there’s something about her I really like. I think I should try again.”

Grizzer whines.

“But how, you ask? I’m not sure, bud.”

“In bigger news, it’s the end of the week and I think we all deserve a bit of a treat, don’t you?”

Grizzer turns toward Nuna’s voice and lets out a happy sound. Hound laughs.

“No treats before breakfast, Grizz. You know the rules.” The massiff offers his handler a sad pair of eyes and Hound shakes his head. “Not gonna fall for that.”

“Tonight ladies and lads we’re having ladies’ night at 79’s. Come find yourself a battle buddy and if one of you lucky listeners can find me I may have a special surprise just for you!”

Hound listens intently. Ryk and Rule were sure to be down for a night out after the week they’d had. The Commander has been busy keeping his assistant working late so he likely wouldn’t be game - not that Hound could blame him - but Thire might be convinced. Since the scuffle with the 501st boys a few weeks back the buddy system has been in play. The more the merrier as far as he was concerned. Now all he had to do was find a way to talk to her.

———

“If you pull on the skirt one more time, I swear to the maker I will end you.”

Nuna rolls her eyes at Tully’s threat. The skirt was too short and the Pantoran was out of her fekking mind if she thought this wouldn’t be the way the rest of the night played out.

“I dressed you pretty for a reason. Stop trying to ruin it.”

“I look like a cased sausage.” She tries - and fails - to keep the whine from her voice. Tully softens and grips her shoulders gently.

“First off, if that's the case, you are the sexiest sausage I’ve ever seen.” Nuna stifles a laugh behind a pout. “Second,” Nuna winces as her friend punches her in the shoulder, “There’s more where that came from if I hear one more second of negative self talk tonight. Got me?”

“Kriff Tull-“ Nuna rubs at her shoulder. “Fine, I’m the sexiest sausage Coruscant has ever seen. Just don’t hurt me anymore.”

The Pantoran laughs and leans forward, placing a smacking kiss on the shorter woman’s head. “I love you and your issues,” she mumbles.

“Can we just have a drink now?”

79’s is packed. Shebs to gett’se. There’s the usual mix of clones from various divisions and battalions crowded in small groups of grey and white with pops of color signaling who they were to the world. There’s also a large contingent of women - every species, color and shape known to man. Nuna smiles happily as she brings her drink to her lips only to frown a moment later at the deep plum smear of lipstick on the glass.

“No transfer my ass,” she grumbles as she takes another long pull. Tully bought the first round, and whatever it is is sweet on Nuna’s tongue like star cherry candy with the familiar burn of booze behind it. It’s good but if she fills her night with more of them she’ll be nursing a killer hangover come morning. “I’ve got the next round.”

“As if I was going to let you get away without paying your fair share.”

Nuna rolls her eyes as she finishes the last of her drink. She’s already feeling just a little bit more loose and relaxed. Her hips move in a mindless, lazy figure-eight to the driving thud of the bass. Not her favorite, but Nuna loved to dance nearly as much as she loved music. Well maybe not that much, but certainly a close second.

Back home on Irmenu both had been frowned upon by the Priesthood and if they didn’t approve it was almost heretical to go against them. It hadn’t been ‘til she’d been exiled with her parents that she’d heard her first real music - outside of mindless chanting - and her first experience with really letting go and letting her body take over. It was freeing. Liberating. It was at that moment that she’d known she wanted to work around it, to be part of it somehow, for the rest of her life. It had been the driving force for so long that she had a hard time looking outside of it. Maybe that was how she’d gotten to nearly 25 and had nothing but a paycheck and an empty apartment to keep her company. Tully tries to say something over the noise of the speakers.

She had Tully too. A better best friend no girl has ever had.

“Have you finished yours yet?” The Pantoran holds up her glass, shaking the lone ice cubes around for show. Nuna holds hers up to show hers in the same state of emptiness.

“Ready for another?”

“You have to ask? Pony up girl. It’s your turn.”

There was something nice about the anonymity of her radio persona. As she moves through the crowd she doesn’t need to worry about being recognized or stopped by a fan looking for a picture. The one disappointment was that she still had to wait at the bar like everyone else.

She taps on the bar once to get the tender’s attention. The Twi’lek woman gives her a nod and the finger gesture for ‘one moment’ before quickly changing it to ‘two moments.’ Nuna blows a breath from the corner of her mouth. Ok, maybe a little notoriety wouldn’t be so bad once in a while. She’s waiting patiently, hip pressed against the bar, booted foot tapping along to the beat when someone taps her on the shoulder.

“Nuna?” She cringes at the voice, doing her best to press a convincing smile into place as she turns. “Hey, I thought that was you.” She flinches when a long thin finger flicks at one of the curls she’d managed to cultivate in her short hair. It bounces merrily as she looks into the face of the last man she’d hoped to see.

She only has one to go off of but, as far as exes went, Nuna was fairly certain she had one of the worst. All of the things she’d once found incredibly handsome about Alistar S’uun were now… what did Tully refer to him as?… ah yes, smarmy.

She’d been lonely and wholly too innocent to get involved with him when she’d first arrived in the Triple-Zero, but that hadn’t stopped her from losing her heart - and other things - to the arrogant son of a bantha. He’d been all slicked back hair and clothes that screamed money. He’d taken her to nice places, introduced her to important people. She’d thought it was love until she’d walked in on him and his assistant one day when she’d stopped by to bring him lunch.

To say it ended badly was an understatement, but she’d been lucky. She hadn’t seen him in nearly a standard year. Lucky until tonight.

“Alistar,” she greets, tucking her hair back behind her ears, as if it would stop him from touching it if he wanted to. Alistar did what he wanted when he wanted, and you either dealt with it or got out of the way.

“You look great. Lost a few of those troublesome pounds?”

A wave of annoyance washes over her as she glances back over her shoulder and toward the bartender. She just needed her karking drinks so she could make her escape. The Twi’lek is still occupied further down the bar.

“How have you been?” she asks, ignoring his questions and the undertones it entailed.

“Oh you know, doing a bit of this and that. Father is letting me take some of reins on the new acquisitions-“

“That’s lovely, Alistar. I’m very happy for you,” she lies through her teeth. His father was a shipping magnate and nepotism had been good to Alistar.

Nuna glances toward where she’d left Tully and sees a flash of red and white talking to her. Her heart stutters only to realize that it’s not the now somewhat familiar armor Hound wore. The trooper is somewhat smaller, less broad through the middle. The tell-tale snarl is missing from his helmet.

“I hear that little radio show of yours is still doing well.”

Here it comes, she thinks. This was always how it started. Alistar would make some little undermining comment and she’d get upset. Inevitably she’d be crying and he’d tell her she needed to get a sense of humor. Nuna could see it all unfolding before her eyes, but this time she wasn’t going to fall for it.

“I always knew you had a face for radio-” he smiles widely holding his hands up, “Oops! you know what I meant, right Nunz?”

“Yeah, Al, I got you loud and clear.” Her smile is forced and she grits her teeth with such force she’s surprised one doesn’t crack. “So it’s been lovely catching up but I’m going to go find Tull-“ His hand catches her upper arm as she turns to leave. She regrets wearing the sleeveless top Tully had picked out. She doesn’t like the feel of his skin against her own.

“Still friends with the Pant? Maker, you really are desperate aren’t you? Stay and talk for a while. I’m better company.” She shakes off his grip, his smile now beginning to look just as fake as the one she’d been wearing.

She promised herself wasn’t going to take the bait, really she wasn’t, she was better than that… but he’d brought Tully into it.

“She cares about me more than you ever did.” The smile is gone now and Aliatar’s pale brows arch up in surprise at the venom in her voice.

“So are you laying like a cold fish for her to fuck you too? Low standards-“

She turns to move again, puts one foot in front of the other, before he yanks her back. The heel of her boot slips and her stumble only makes his grip tighten. Her arm twists in a way that sends pain shooting like wildfire from her shoulder to the tips of her fingers.

“Don’t you dare walk-“

Nuna had never hurt so much as a fly in her life, but the blinding rage that rises up from her gut does something to her. Before she can even comprehend what she’s doing her balled up fist is connecting solidly with Alistar’s face. He doubles over while Nuna whines, snapping her hand back to her chest before beginning to shake it roughly. The pain she’d felt in her arm was nothing to what her knuckles were feeling now.

“Kriff, Kriff, Kriff,” she grits out, flexing her fingers.

“Why you dumb little nerf cow-“ She glances up to see Alistar take a step toward her. Something akin to fear prickles at the back of her senses. She’d seen that look before in his eyes. It scared her now like it had back then.

“Whoa. Whoa. Whoa.” Red and white armor steps into Nunas view. “What seems to be the problem here?” Hound's voice is easy going as his head swings from Nuna to Alistar, who is rubbing his jaw, his other finger jabbing accusingly in Nuna’s direction.

“This little bitch-“

“Alright buddy” Hound holds a hand up calmingly “I’m going to stop you right there. Let me clarify-“ he turns to Nuna fully. Her heart stutters as he pulls the hand she’s cradling close to her chest up for inspection. “What’s going on here, sweetheart?” he asks quietly.

“I was just trying to leave and he grabbed me. It hurt,” she tries to tamp down the tremble in her voice, “I just wanted him to let go.”

Hound gives her an unreadable look. His thumbs stroke gently over her knuckles. Something warm springs to life in her belly that takes the edge off her discomfort.

“Hey, you! Clone,” Alistar’s voice rises up, “I demand this woman be arrested. I’ve been assaulted. You’re in the Guard. Do your job.”

There’s a tic in Hound’s jaw, really the only thing that gives the slightest hint of his annoyance as he turns back to the other man. A small crowd is gathering around them, mostly clones with a few civilians scattered in.

“Ok friend, first it’s Sargeant. Second,” he glances around and Nuna sees familiar colors of clone armor; blues, yellows, and reds surrounding them, “From my vantage point it looked like you were hurting the lady.” The clones around them nod in agreement.

“Oh this is just fracking great!” Alistar laughs, throwing his head back and taking a deep breath before glaring between Hound and Nuna. “You’re fucking her aren’t you?” he spits at Hound before rounding on Nuna, “You’re fucking government property now? That’s low even for you.”

Nuna feels tears welling up. She didn’t want to do anything now but go home and get away from the looks she just knew were coming her way. She glances down at her feet. When she looks up Hound is grabbing Alistar by the shoulders. His movements are quick, efficient, and practiced.

Hound tips Alistar forward just enough to bring an armored knee up into the other man’s unprotected gut. Alistar doubles over with a strangled wheeze, gripping at the bar for support before sinking to his knees. Hound turns his soft eyes to her.

“You’ve never punched someone.” It’s not a question. He takes her hand again, thumb stroking over her tender knuckles. “Wiggle your thumb,” he encourages, offering her a bright smile when she does.

“Ok. Good. It’s not broken,” he announces to himself, “Never wrap your fingers around your thumb. Next time you might not be so lucky.”

Nuna nods mutely.

“So what you want to do is-“ he proceeds to shape her hand into a fist. His big gloved hands completely envelop her smaller one as he tucks her thumb against the outside of her balled fingers. He presses it firmly as if to make the point that this was where it was supposed to be.

From the way he’s acting, she’s more inclined to believe she’s part of one of the ‘girl power’ self defense classes at the community center around the corner from her apartment as opposed to a clone bar. Hound is pleasant- no, he’s nearly perky.

“See how much nicer that looks? Certainly safer for your hand.” Nuna hears a few clones around them hum in agreement. Surreal. “Now, it wasn’t a bad first swing, but you didn’t follow through.”

“Kriffing… seven hells,” Alistar wheezes behind them. Hound makes a sound in his throat to catch her attention from the other man struggling to stand up.

“What you need to do next time is follow through. The target isn’t his jaw. It’s this magic little spot behind his jaw. Do you understand?”

Nuna’s eyes are drawn to Alistar who is rising to full height, murder written in his eyes.

“Hound-“ she tries to warn him but he merrily waves her off.

“Let me show you, ok?” The big man turns without missing a beat and his fist makes its best attempt at going through Alistar’s jaw. Her ex crumples into a heap, platinum hair disheveled, onto the sticky bar floor.

“Kriffing glass jawed pretty boy,” Hound mumbles as he turns back to her just as jovial and happy as he’d been devouring the nerf skewers and talking about Grizzer at the fete.

She hears a small cheer of “Oya!” go through the gathered ranks as a few clones grab the unconscious man by the shoulder and the rest begin to disperse back to their various areas.

“See? Just like that.”

Nuna swallows hard, bites back a nervous smile and finds her voice. “Just like that?”

“Yup.” Hound rocks back on his heels. “So do you wanna come have a drink with me- us?”

He sounds so hopeful, like pulling the whole Jedi Knight in shining armor bit hadn’t won him at least a little favor. She nods and he gestures for her to move ahead of him, leaving the other troopers to see her unconscious ex out the door.

Hound takes up a position behind her, his hand hovering over her hip to guide her toward the table his brothers stood around. Tully is already there with a serious look on her face.

“Are you ok?” She takes Nuna by the shoulders, looks her over.

“I’m good. I promise.”

“Maker I hate that no good piece of bantha spit.” One of the Guard behind her chokes out a laugh. Tully’s eyes fly to Hound, narrowed and assessing. “So this is the guy?”

“I’m the guy? What guy?” He looks at Nuna questioningly. Something mischievous sparkles in his gentle brown eyes.

Nuna feels her cheeks heat up as she bites out her friend's name. Tully ignores her.

“You bought her lunch at the Festival of Life?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And you called into the show to ask her on a date?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Tully looks to Nuna and then back to Hound. “What’s up with the ma’am?”

Hound rubs at the back of his neck. His brothers snicker in the background. “Courtesy, ma’am?”

“Call me Tully,” she orders shortly, finally relaxing. Hound breathes out a sigh of relief.

“Vod? You gonna introduce us to your little friend?”

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Trick-or-Treat Masterlist

That's a wrap on my trick-or-treat ask party! I hope you all have a glorious Halloween! Thank you so much to everyone who trick-or-treated in my inbox; I had such a lovely and creative October thanks to you, and I had the best time creating your treats.

If you had told me one month ago that I would create twenty-three unique projects in 29 days, I wouldn't have believed you, but I did it, and not to toot my own horn, but I'm really proud of all of them. I'll be honest, this project pretty much took over my entire life for the month of October; so many more people participated than I expected, and I'm so grateful to all of you! I hope you enjoyed your treats as much as I enjoyed making them.

Now that the event has ended, you can either check the links below or click here to see everything I created for this year's Halloween party!

Stay spooky, my friends 🎃

Sawbones divider for @wizardofrozz

Convor Tech for @eclec-tech

Wolffe wallpapers for @enigmaticexplorer

The Bad Patch pumpkins for @dangraccoon

Boba Fett wallpapers for @kimiheartblade

Wolfpack cadets trick-or-treating for @clonethirstingisreal

Hunter's Moon tarot card for @maniacalbooper

Sunflowers & Blasters wallpaper for @523rdrebel

Grogu in a pram-kin for @goblininawig

Tooka and Rex-o-lantern for @eternal-transcience

Kix wallpapers for @arctrooper69

Big Trouble in Little Mon Cala cocktail for @nika6q

Halloween on Pabu: Batcher for @frostycatblr-fandom-files

Rex & the 501st playlist for @littlemissbshine

Halloween on Pabu: Crosshair for @moonstrider9904

Plo Koon and OC Lupe for @lonewolflupe

Kix or Treat ficlet for @ireadwithmyears

Echo and Nuna tooka for @returnofthepineapple

OC Nimue in a witch costume for @moonlightwarriorqueen

Shadow/Hunter and Scarlett/Crosshair dividers for @jedi-princess-kestis

Hound and Grizzer ready to trick-or-treat for @deejadabbles

It's Always Sunny in the Entertainment District cocktail for @sunshinesdaydream

Ahsoka BOOpkin for @sees-writes

[things-that-altered-my-brain]

TRACKING MY EYES

(LIST OF MOVIES SERIES BOOKS AND WEBCOMICS I HAVE SEEN READ and want to remember(rating out of 10) (incomplete rn)

( E-english, H-hindi, K-korean)

MOVIES

Animated-

nimona (10)

TANGLED

the Mitchells v/s the machines

spirit untamed

frozen 1

next gen (8)

the willoughbys

over the moon

wreck it Ralph 1 and 2

encanto

frozen 2 (6)

Hindi

barfi (10)

chor nikal ke bhaga (10)

Darlings

ek main aur ek tuu

ek vivah aisa bhi

forensic

hasee to phasee

Lootera

om shanti om

Qala

queen

Uri

7 khoon maaf (9)

dear zindagi

dil chahta hai

dil dhadkne do

Wake up Sid

doctor G (8)

kal ho na ho

zindagi na milegi Dobara

gori tere pyaar m (7)

kuch kuch hota hai

kabhi khushi kabhi gham

plan A plan B

Tamasha

OMG (oh my god) (6)

Ye Jawani Hai deewani

fitoor (5)

I hate luv stories

kabhi alvida naa kehna

dilwale 2015

jaane tu ya jaane na

dil se (3)

hum sath sath hai (no ratings for these lol)

happy new year

hum apke hai kaun

sooryavansham

english

good will hunting

BARBIE

Half of it

fundamentals of caring

edge of seventeen

red white and royal blue

the baby sitter killer queen

crazy rich asians

Enola holmes 1 n 2

knives out 1 n 2

confessions of a shopaholic

the intern

love at first sight

korean

tune in for love

love and leashes

kill boksoon

SERIES

lockwood n co

looking for alaska

heartstopper

Carmen San Diego

extraordinary attorney woo

blue birthday

run on

celebrity

true beauty

see you in my 19th life

our beloved summer

my ID is Gangnam beauty

because this is my first life

business proporsal

nevertheless

masaba masaba

my demon

destined with you

vincenzo

reborn rich

start up

Heeramandi

its okay not to be okay (goingon)

gilmore girls (going on)

BOOKS

the unhoneymooners- Christina Lauren

nothing lasts forever- Sidney Sheldon

Since You've Been Gone by Morgan Matson

turtles all the way down- john green

to all the boys I've loved before (book 2 and 3 specially)

One of us is lying- Karen McManus

One of us is next (sequel)

Mr. Penumbra’s 24-hour bookstore- robin sloan

tbr-

one of us is back (triology)

lockwood and co

PLAYS

mujhe amritaa chahiye (yogesh tripathi)

WEBCOMICS

the omniscient reader

i love yoo

the greatest estate developer

get schooled

operation true love

seasons of blossom

morgana and oz

reunion

to tame a fire

muse on fame

maybe meant to be

wished you were dead

lost in translation

lets get divorced

the fox club

raven saga

bad signs

daytime star

completed

secretary out of order

see you in my 19th life

take me im yours

your letter

til debt do us part

our beloved summer

unholy blood

sweet home

long after the ending

the make up remover

age matters

a chance at last

gourment hound

the nuna at our office

cherry blossoms

my boo

her bucket list

super secret

oh!holy

mom, im sorry

lilac 200%

scorching romance

garden club detective squad

the hip guy

kind of love

unTouchable

witch hunt

cinnamonroll

[wille-zarr]

The Mandalorian: “I’ll Tie You Up, Princess”

In Fields of White ~ Chapter Ten ~ “I’ll Tie You Up, Princess”

masterlist / previous chapter / next chapter

pairing: din djarin (the mandalorian) x f!reader

warnings: rated M for language; canon-level violence; angst; brief discussion of hunger/starvation; themes of parent/child separation; discussion of pregnancy; flirty rough-housing; character death

word count: 15.3k

chapter summary: when a dreaded face from your past emerges, everything in your new life, including your relationship with the mandalorian, is put under threat.

story summary: fleeing from the life you wish more than anything to forget, you are left to navigate the galaxy alone as a wide-eyed wanderer. in the process of evading the dangers linked to your previous life, your destiny is forever altered when you cross paths with an intimidating mandalorian and his unusually gifted child.

a/n:��I’m really, really nervous for this one. 🙃Please read using the Ao3 link below if the length causes your app to crash! Also, MAJOR THANKS TO @sana-katarn​ WHO WAS A HUGE HELP.

also found on: Ao3

In Fields of White

Chapter Ten: “I’ll Tie You Up, Princess”

If Grandpa was alive to see this mess, he’d roll over and die again.

No.

No-

He’d find Thall.

Kill him.

Then die again.

“Stars,” you groan, leaning both palms on either side of the sink. Lifting your head, you glare at the face staring back at you from the refresher mirror.

Your face… it feels like it’s all you recognize of yourself these days…

You grit your teeth as shame weighs your eyes low, down your bare body, down to the speckled floor beneath your toes. You wiggle them to ground yourself- to reign in the disgrace squeezing at your chest.

…Dank Ferrik.

You press your eyes against the voice pushing, pushing at your consciousness.

…

I told you so…

I know, Grandpa.

I told you Thall was sketchy.

I know! Maker! Do you have to rub it in, Gramps?

Just wanted to point it out. And don’t call me Gramps. Makes me feel ancient.

Kark off. You’re dead.

…

I love you, Grandpa.

….

Kriff.

No one warned you that the worst part of growing up would be the realization your family was blasted correct about a lot of blasted things.

Hissing through your teeth, you fling your hand through the current of water flowing from the faucet, the droplets glittering across the reflected crown of your head.

Oh, fine. Fine!

You twist away- hand snapping up your shirt from the floor.

You’re used to everything going wrong. What’s new?

Another day, another “you’ll maybe possibly probably die.” Only this time, everyone’s survival rests upon you.

Big karkin’ yay.

If you survive this, you’re writing a book.

“Thall, how about you just kiss my- erf!-” the collar of your shirt catches your nose- “kiss my butt!” You yank on the edge of the hem until your head pops free.

“Just kark off-” you mash on the control panel, and the door opens with a snap- “straight to- YIPES!”

You fling backwards.

“GET OUT!”

Face exploding with warmth, you press behind the door. “What the hell! Can’t you knock?! I’m in my underwear, for Maker’s sake!”

Your shrieks are met with silence… so you peer around the corner…

Your wide eyes are greeted by the back of your Mandalorian intruder, the ends of his cape still twirling around at his heels from his own startled spin.

“Din, get OUT!” you hiss, ducking back behind the frame. You pull on the ends of your shirt, fighting to cover the bare skin of your thighs.

A strained, modulated groan slips around the doorframe.

“….d…r -s unl-ked.”

“What!?” you squeak, head ducking around to gawk at him. “Stop garbling, Djarin! I can’t-”

“Your door was unlocked!”

His words are sharp, strained.

“Anyone c-could have come in while you were showering and- and-”

“-Go away!”

You pat around the refresher counter, fingers gripping the closest thing within reach, and you hurl it-

“Out!”

“I can’t- Ka’r’ika! Is-… fresher paper?”

You bend around the door, watching as his gloved hands pick at the ribbon of white paper trailing across his shoulder.

You can’t help but grin.

“You look like shit, Mando.”

“Damn it, girl,” he grumbles, so low you’re sure you weren’t meant to hear it. “Can- can I… Dank Ferrik. Can I turn around now?”

“Blast it- no! Go away! I’m in my underwear!”

“What are you wearing underwear for-”

“Why am I wearing underwear? Did you really just-”

“I- I didn’t mean-”

“Some of us sleep in our underwear, Din! Gosh! What- do you sleep in your armor or something?”

...

“Oh my Maker. You sleep in your armor.”

...

“…No.”

...

A smirk quirks at the corner of your mouth, and you’re grateful he cannot relax at its sight. Stars, you take too much pleasure in making him squirm…

“Y-you’re not staying in here alone-” his voice strains- “not with hunters-”

“I’m safe-”

“-get in the bed.”

…

You blink.

…

His hands rise to his waist.

“Get in the bed.”

“Hmf.” You purse your lips. “Yes, karkin’ sir.”

Sticking your tongue out for good measure, you spin on your heel to sweep your pants up from the floor.

“Gosh,” you grumble, sticking a leg in as you hop one-legged towards the bed. You glance down at the print on your underwear. “I hope you didn’t get a good look- urg!” You lose your balance, slumping across the mattress.

 “Wouldn’t want this to be the way you find out I’m a horse girl…”

“What?”

“What?”

…

…

“…nothing.”

You hook the last button of your pants. “I guess you’re free to spin around now.”

He hesitates- then turns at your words.

“Look at you,” you snort. “Creeping in that dark corner.” You slide both legs beneath the comforter, pulling it up to just beneath your chin. “I’ll never get any sleep if you lurk over there. I’ll wreck my bike tomorrow, and it’ll be all your fault.”

…

Heavy sigh.

The Mandalorian emerges from the shadow-shrouded corner, and he flicks his fingers out at his side.

“Better?”

“Hmf, fine.”

You crinkle your nose.

“You can stay, but don’t stare at me all night like some dang rakghoul-” you scooch forward, pulling the comforter up over your head like a scarf, only your face visible- “trying to scare me.”

-a puff of modulated air.

“You’re not afraid of anything.”

The Mandalorian lumbers forward, fingers hooked on his belt.

“And that’s what concerns me.”

He pauses right beside your head, visor angled down to stare into your eyes.

“Come now, Mando. You scared the shit out of me on Taek.” You dramatically flop out flat across the bed, letting the comforter crumble around your body. “Thought for sure you’d kill me for being annoying.”

…

“You were afraid of me?”

You let your weak smile speak for itself.

“Hmf.”

He re-hooks his fingers on his belt.

“Could have fooled me-” his voice is light, teasing- “you were a mouthy little thing.”

Mouthy.

Mouthy??

Oh, you can show him mouthy-

You part your lips to snot off at Din, but his hand extends, pats the crumpled comforter, ripping your response straight from your mouth. You watch, brow quirked, as he pulls, smooths out the comforter around you. His visor lifts-

Oh.

Oh Maker just cast you in the Pit of Carkoon-

He can be so kriffing thoughtful and it’s really hot and you want to die-

Lowering your eyes, you grunt, picking at a loose thread to distract from that familiar squeeze, that ache in your chest.

Stop-

Stop.

You can’t get mixed up with this man-

You’re… you’re not able to-

…Someone’s going to get hurt.

…

“I… I- uh- talk a lot when I’m nervous.”

…

He tilts his head at that.

“Fine!” You throw a hand up, swallowing quickly. “... And- and when I’m not.”

“Hmm.”

“Still-” you jab a finger towards him, eager to just talk, distract yourself from that familiar warmth blooming in your chest- “I’d rather have been killed by you in the desert than spend another day on Taek.”

With a groan reminiscent of a wounded Kath Hound, you roll over onto your stomach- away from the Mandalorian.

“Kriff, so many sand stingers!”

A second roll, this time pulling the comforter along with you.

“And you can’t even eat them!”

A third roll.

“And I would know.”

A fourth roll- you stop, satisfied with the level of burrito-wrapping you’ve achieved.

“I tried.”

The Mandalorian has the audacity to chuckle.

“My lips were swollen for two days-” you wiggle, freeing your arms from their burrito prison- “and you laugh?”

“Ah.”

A small, strangled cough slips through the modulator.

“Sorry.”

You try your best to look angry- but you can’t resist the cheeky grin.

“Well, anyhow,” you sigh, re-crumpling the comforter around your body like a nesting mother bird. “Thank the Maker you flashed that Beskar of yours around like a baited hook, reeling me in like a fish.”

“Hmf.”

The Mandalorian leans forward, hands on his hips- his body casting a light shadow across your cheek.

“You would have found a way off without me.”

Rolling your eyes, you can only huff, “Yeah, blasted, right.”

You plunge your face, your grimace deep within your pillow.

“Blast it- I was so damn hungry; I was this close-” you lift up two fingers held closely together- “to resorting to cannibalism.” Your hand drops with a plop.

…

Truth be told… you have always wondered if Toydarian tastes like Nuna…

Heh.

…

-The bed jolts.

Your head shoots up.

You blink.

…

The Mandalorian-

-sitting beside you.

Close.

Very… close.

“Din?” Your hands fumble with the tangled comforter. “Wh-”

“I’m sorry.”

His tone is…

Angry.

He turns away from you, striking his fingers against his thigh armor in rapid succession.

Your eyelashes flutter, taken completely off-guard by his harsh admission.

“Uh…”

You sit up straight, eyes glued to the gleam of his helm.

“What exactly for?”

Oh, kark, what did he do?

Did you forget you should be mad about something?

“I should have taken you back to the Crest-” his shoulders shrug forward- “…the night we made our deal on Taek.”

The Mandalorian stops tapping- balls the comforter into his fist.

…

You blink.

…

“Maker, Din!”

Flopping back, you slap your hands across both eyes.

That’s it? Damn man is fretting over that?

With a dismissive flick of your hand, you can’t help but snicker. “Oh, come on, even if you had asked me to, I would have just written my obituary first- left it behind for the sand stingers.”

Grinning ear to ear, you, again, gather the comforter up over your head like a protective cocoon-

-just like the child does with his blanket, now that you think about it…

“I must say though, Mandalorian, you could have at least lugged off those two dead dudes you killed.” Crinkling your nose, you narrow your eyes at Din as he shifts, eases back against the wall, observing your movements with careful attention.

“Leaving me all alone with dead people-” you cluck your tongue- “very improper of you, Mr. Djarin.”

The Mandalorian tucks his head aside.

“You weren’t alone.”

“Yeah, no kidding!” The comforter slips forward, consuming your head entirely and entombing you in darkness. Pushing against the quilt, attempting to free yourself, you continue, “I- erf- had two decomposing-”

“-I stayed.”

Your hands drop.

…

“The entire night... on the roof.”

…

“Oh.”

Oh.

…

You sit in darkness.

…

The bed shifts, tilting you towards the movement-

The comforter is flung off your head, and your squint is met by your own face reflected in the Mandalorian’s visor.

“Are you still afraid of me?”

His words are tentative, but you hear their teasing edge.

Fine.

He wants to play.

You can handle “play.”

It’s easier than the truth.

…

“No, Mando.”

~Yes, Mando~

“I’m not.”

~I am~

“My terror for you was eradicated from my head the moment I was assaulted by the sight of your revolting bedroom quarters.”

~My terror is you’ll learn the truth about what I am~

“Your hair might be exceptionally soft and astoundingly fragrant, as your hair conditioner collection would imply-” you tap a finger atop his helmet- “but you’re messy, Din.”

~Seven Corellian hells, my life is messy oh my stars~

…

Silence.

…

“Hmm.”

His head jerks to the side.

“You’re welcome to clean it-” he shifts forward- “if it offends you.”

A smirk tickles at the corner of your mouth.

“I’d probably find something sentient growing in a dirty sock pile.”

The Mandalorian chuckles- a rumble… deep, low.

He leans forward-

-and you scuffle to the other side of the bed.

“S-Stars! Uh, well, enough about my fears. Um, tell me-” you let your feet dangle off the side of the bed opposite from him- “what scares a Mandalorian?”

Uhg.

You tried to force a light-hearted tone; pull on one of your phony masks- but…it seems the longer time goes on-

-the more it’s impossible to pretend with Din.

This… is bad.

Especially when you have as many damn secrets to keep as you do.

You can’t help but cringe.

Kriffin’ dune worm on a stick!

Cautiously, you sneak a quick glance over your shoulder, finding Din’s position on the bed unchanged. He stares down at his hands as if lost, buried within his own thoughts.

“I’m-”

He pauses.

…

“I’m afraid of making the wrong choices...”

…

“Not being strong enough to protect... who I care about.”

…

…

Your lips part.

Well.

…

A light-hearted question.

A serious answer.

You take a deep breath, letting it steady, refocus your spiraling, spinning mind.

“Din,” you mumble, throwing his name over your shoulder. “If… if this is about the baby...”

Stars, the baby.

…

Hell… you- you can’t have this conversation right now.

How do you-

Do you just-?

“The- the responsibility of a child-” you reach up; rub your browline with trembling fingers- “it’s the single most…”

You pause.

“Th-the single most-”

…

terrifying-

exhilarating-

rewarding-

punishing-

fulfilling-

painful-

you- you can’t breathe-

“Ka’r’ika?”

You jolt forward at your name.

“Ka’r’ika, are you-”

“Being a parent-” put on your mask put on your mask- “you feel so… big and so… small.”

Dank Ferrik…

“You’re too small to forge the galaxy you want for them, no matter how much you fight for it.”

Your hand slips beneath your shirt, clenching the pendent you wear close to your heart. “But you’re big, so big- you’re everything to them- their whole galaxy.”

Your eyes slide shut.

Her- her voice will come back to you if you just stay quiet and- and-

…

“Mama, what this for?”

Even your excruciating exhaustion can’t suppress your grin. “Your belly button?” With a grunt, you lift Valera up from the cot, placing her down atop your legs.

“Well, you little womp rat… uh…”

Stars, how do you explain this to a kid?

“It’s… uh… how you ate food when you were growing in my tummy.”

She shoots you an incredulous little eyebrow lift.

Oh great-

She’s already picking up your sass.

Serves you kriffin’ right.

Your fingers wrap around the pendant hanging from Valera’s neck.

“Watch the attitude, kid.”

You give the necklace a few short tugs, sending her into a fit of giggles.

“Mama!”

“Ka’r’ika?”

Oh!

You jerk around-

-Din.

“Is something… wrong?”

 “Yeah- uh, yeah.” You cough- clear your throat. “I just, dang it-” you slap your thigh- “get emotional thinking about little kids, ya know? So darned cute, the little monsters.”

He’s… not convinced.

But he doesn’t push it.

That’s… all you need from him right now.

“Look, Din. I- I know you’ll make the decision you think is right for the kid…” You lower your voice- make it easier to hide the waver. “It’s- it’s all we can do.”

...

“But you don’t… approve of my choice.”

No.

You don’t.

“I stand by everything I said before... mostly.” Your eyes lower, glaring down at the comforter. “Just make sure you aren’t making the choice to send him to a Jedi out of fear... fear of not being good enough for him.”

…

You glance back up.

“Because you are.”

...

“Ka’r’ika…”

So soft.

He always says it so soft-

“Your opinion…”

His visor dips away, almost bashfully.

“It means a lot to me.”

You blink.

“Really? Mine?”

It certainly didn’t feel that way during your argument on the Crest…

Sliding his fingers across the leather of his belt, he makes a slight choking sound.

“I… regret the things I said to you before.”

…

“I- you were saying things I didn’t want to hear...”

He turns, stares over at you.

“You’re not selfish.... far from it.”

You hold his gaze.

That damn daze.

…

“Well...” you mumble. “I shouldn’t have blown up on you either. I- I let my personal bias cloud my head and heat my tongue...”

You break the gaze.

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

…

Silence.

…

Oh stars.

You shouldn’t do it.

…

You’re gunna do it.

“Well, Mando-” energy floods your voice- “I’m flattered you hunted me down and killed a Rancor just to apologize to me.” Crawling beneath the comforter, you don’t fight the smirk cracking across your face

“Truly, Din, it means the galaxy to me.”

You scooch over further, further until-

“W-what are you-”

“Shut up.” You shove a hand into his side. “I’m trying to sleep.”

You lean against his arm, your head drooping down…

…

…

“Din.”

…

…

“Din.”

…

“Oh my gosh, kriffin’ relax, Din!”

You pull away from him. “Stop tensing! It’s like trying to sleep next to a blasted boulder!”

“It is not.”

“Loosen up!”

“I am loose.”

Oh.

You know how to loosen him up.

You jump up to your knees, staring him down.

“Hand. Now.”

…

The Mandalorian gawks at you. Or, at least, you imagine he’d be gawking if it weren’t for the, ya know, helmet.

“Din Djarin.”

You shove your open palm at him.

“Let me hold your damn hand.”

One breath-

…

Two breaths-

…

Three breaths-

His hand, warm and- kark!- so damn large, slips into your own.

“If I die tomorrow-” you give his hand a tight squeeze- “I want you to remember me like this.”

He grunts.

“Domineering and demanding?”

“You know I can hear you.” Rolling your eyes, you sigh dramatically, “As I was saying, remember me like this.” You squeeze his hand a second time-

He returns the squeeze-

“Maybe I’d rather remember the time you fell into that mud-hole on Arvala-” his free hand reaches out- tugs on your ear lobe- “and I had to pull you out while the kids laughed at us.”

You whack away his hand. “Oh, come on, Din-”

“Or maybe I’d rather remember the time you sang to the Blurgs.”

“I was bullied into tha-”

“Or the time you fell asleep in my shirt- drooled all over it.”

“Kriff off! I did not.” You yank on his hand, drawing him forward. “How would you even know?” You lean into him, squishing your nose to his visor.

“You never-

do-

your-

karking-

laundry.”

…

Din just chuckles.

Oh oh Maker his chuckle is so sexy and damn it damn it-

…

You’ve… you’ve got it bad.

Crinkling your nose, you pull away, sinking down- down- down into the comforter. “Well, you’re being mean to me. I’m going to bed.”

A… thought occurs.

…

Oh, Banthabreath.

Life is short. Do it.

“Din?”

Your eyes twist, staring up into his visor from where you lay on the bed. He watches; does not break the gaze as you reach out- grab his hand again. With a sharp tug, his glove slips right off, revealing- stars- that hand, those fingers that have haunted your daydreams since they first brushed across your lips.

Warm.

Callused.

Scarred.

Oh Maker.

If you’re losing it over a blasted hand and voice- a kneecap reveal would have you deceased.

You sigh.

“Din, tell me- uh…”

Naked skin dusts across your jaw- “Uh… Din?” -traces your earlobe- “Do- do you really plan to, uh…” -trails down your neck- “…s-stay all night?”

-his fingers pause at your collarbone.

…

“Yes.”

He resumes stroking his fingers slowly, languidly across your collarbone.

“Humor an old man, Ka’r’ika.”

You blink at him.

Old?

Huh.

Now that he mentions it…

“How old are you?” you blurt.

He freezes.

…

Oh, you just killed the mood, didn’t you?

…

Dank Ferrik.

“I’m just curious.” You lift a brow, a slight smile upon your lips. “You do grunt and groan a lot.”

The Mandalorian makes a sharp noise- tears his hand away.

“Young enough to pull you out of mud holes.”

…

You narrow your eyes at him.

…

“…Late thirties.”

Ah.

“Sorry,” you chuckle, shoving against his shoulder. “Just trying to construct a mental image of how I think you might look.”

Din huffs- crosses his arms across his chest like a sullen child.

“I’d prefer you didn’t.”

“Come on, it’s not like I’ll ever see it!” You jump up to your knees. “I should at least be allowed to imagine.”

“I could never live up to your fanatical imagination, Ka’r’ika.”

“What, are ya ugly or something?”

“…No.”

“Are ya hot?”

“Hardly.”

“Oh my gosh don’t say that about yourself.”

“You’ve never seen my face,” he grumbles. “You don’t know what I’m working with here.”

“Shut up.”

“The helmet is an improvement.”

“It is pretty sexy,” you laugh.

…

Silence.

Oh kriffing hells-

Did you just say-

Oh stars-

…

You hope you die tomorrow.

Shaking your head, you snort. “Fine. Whatever.”

-just change the topic change the topic-

“Uh, so, uh, tell me-” you lean in closer to him- “what does Ka’r’ika really mean? You can’t lie to me anymore- I know it doesn’t mean brat.”

“You’re right.”

He, too, leans forward-

“It means pain in the ass.”

“DIN DJARIN!”

The comforter launches over your head, plunging you into darkness. You kick and roll and yell- the comforter and sheets tangling up around you- but you can’t get free-

-because the kriffing metal idiot is holding it down.

“Let me OUT!” you shriek, kicking upwards with your feet. “I’m going to KILL YOU!”

Weight lifts from the comforter.

You fling it off, and your flaming eyes immediately turn towards-

“So, you’re going to kill me?”

Damn that smug voice!

Your hand shoots out, a sharp smack landing against his unarmored thigh.

“Ouch!”

“Eat. Banthashi- OOF!”

You’re catapulted backwards- heaved across the bed. You roll, landing up on all fours.

“Why YOU-”

“Go to sleep.”

-smack-

“DJARIN!”

You grip your ass.

“Did- did you just spank…?”

…

Oh.

Oh, it’s on now-

You fling up, firing yourself at his chest, bursting into shrieks as he easily knocks you aside.

“HEY!”

But the Mandalorian goes for you this time.

His hands grasp your hips, shoves you back behind him. You pounce again- wrap your limbs around his back- you’re yanked forward with an oof. You retaliate, jabbing your hand towards his exposed side- he grabs, stops you- but then-

His arms have you pinned- trapping you against the bed with his weight.

“G-give u-up now, bounty hunter!” You wriggle; his grip only tightens. “I-I’ve- erf- got you, Mando!”

He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak…. just… stares down at you.

“Yeah.”

He dips his helmet to the side.

"You’ve got me.”

…

You both burst into giggles.

“Hell, M-Mando!” you say, gasping for air between your giggles. “I’m- stars!- crying!”

"Hm.”

A light -pat- smacks against your thigh.

“Go to sleep.”

Your grin stretches ear-to-ear. “Yes, sir.”

…

Oh Maker, you’re really done for.

You quiet your laughter, shimmying back beneath the comforter, keenly aware that you might regret every bit of this impulsive behavior in the morning…

But for now?

You roll up against the Mandalorian, curling up against his side. You tuck your face-

Safe.

Safe.

Safe.

His hand drops to your shoulder- moves up- stops… a tickle against the back of your neck, his fingers tracing tiny circles…

“Ka’r’ika.”

"Mhm? What? Leave me alone.”

….

“It means… ‘Dear Star’.”

…

Oh-

Oh.

...

Oh shit.

“Sweet dreams… Ka’r’ika.”

----------------------------

“See you later, Babycakes.”

“Bye, Cara!”

“The hell-” you shoot Pablo an incredulous look- “Babycakes?”

“What?”

“Please don’t answer to that in public.”

“It’s too late,” Pablo sighs, turning your racing helmet over in his hands. “I’ve answered to it twice today.”

A small smirk tickles your lips.

“Then can I call you Sweetcheeks?”

“Oh, I think the hell not-”

“Fine,” you chuckle, taking a pinch of his cheek. “Sweetcheeks it is.��

“I hate you.”

A grin cracks your face. Hey now, if he can call you Sweetheart, you can call him Sweetcheeks.

It’s only fair.

With a heavy sigh, Pablo shoves the helmet back into your hands. “Well, guess it’s back up to Thall’s skybox for me. I- uh-” his hand shoots out, pats your shoulder- “…Don’t die.”

“Pablo, that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.” You press a hand to his chest. “I knew you cared.”

“Yeah, well,” Pablo sighs, knocking your hand off his chest. “I’ll admit, my motivations are sullied… I might have credits down on you.”

“Oh karkin’ dunes.”

“Karkin’ dunes, what?” He throws out his hands. “That’s good! It means I believe in you!”

“Kark you.”

But your smile betrays your words.

Pablo laughs- flashes you a quick wink before turning away. “Now go- win me some credits, Sweetheart,” he yells over his shoulder. “I’ll take you to a casino and let you spend them!”

“Love you, too, Sweetcheeks!”

“Love you more!”

“You answered to it!”

“… Damn it!”

…

Heh.

Pablo really is just-

-“LINE UP WARNING.”

Oh stars-

-“REPEAT. LINE UP WARNING.”

Oh stars oh stars oh stars-

Groaning like a dying Bantha, you press a gloved hand to your browline.

Hell, that cocky, confident little shit you were as a teen?

…

Yeah, you’re not so confident right now.

“I know you’ll win-”

You spin around.

“-you always did.”

“Tesen,” you say, reaching out to accept his hug. “Dank Ferrik, man! I looked over my old speederbike this morning and- wow- you really did a fantastic job on her!”

Maker- the trouble you got into on that old bike… How are you even still alive? 

Tesen chuckles- a rumble beneath your cheek. “After you disappeared, others tried taking her out on runs. But only you could get her to do the things she’s capable of.”

He pulls back.

“I kept her for the memories.” 

A cheeky grin bursts across your face. “You know I’d trust no one else but you with her.”

His eyes brighten, and he opens his mouth to-

-“LINE. UP. WARNING.”

Groaning, you stare up into Tesen’s eyes.

“I’d wish you luck-” he winks- “-but I know you don’t need it.”

“Maybe not....” A coy smile turns up your lips. “But I could still do with my traditional good luck kiss. As my friend, would you mind… since Gavon isn’t here anymore to do me the honor?”

Tesen laughs- deep, hearty-

“Well, I am a good friend.”

He bends down- hesitates- hovering just above your face-

“Tesen, yo-”

Warm lips press to yours.

Oh hell yeah-

You wrap your arms around his waist.

Gosh, you’re pathetic. One friendly little kiss, and those cocky, confident teenage vibes are pulsing through your bloodstream.

Pretty sure you could wrestle a dewback…

“Aww! How sweet!”

Pulling away, you grit your teeth at Thall’s voice booming over the loudspeaker. Your eyes shoot up to the sky.

Stars, you could kill that man…

“Hello, hello everyone!”

Tesen tears away from you- meeting your eyes one final time before sweeping away-

-leaving you all alone.

Just you and your bike.

To win this dang race.

Or die.

At this point, if your friends didn’t need you to actually- you know- win, you’d accept either outcome.

“As we all know, one half of our kissing duo down there-”

“We’re just friends!”

“-is none other than our long-lost Blazing Womprat-”

The nickname snaps you into gear.

Oh yeah.

Time to play the part.

-“former champion of the Boska Springs Classic!”

Climbing up on your speederbike, you stand on the seat, throwing both hands in the air. You stare up into the cameras defiantly, as if you’d already won the kriffing race.

You wave your hands again, the crowd exploding into jests and cheers and shouts.

Dank Ferrik-

You swallow back the goofy grin itching to bloom across your face.

-don’t ruin your image.

You know you must play the part they expect to see on the circuit.

Blazing Womprat-

Brash.

Arrogant.

And batshit crazy.

Maker, how you missed this- this rush. Whether it be racing, singing, or otherwise, you love playing to the crowd…

And they’re eating it up.

“E CHU TA!”

Well…. almost everyone…

You sneer down at your fellow racers, observing their rather rude gestures.

“EAT MY BIKE EXHAUST-”

Your middle fingers jab at the sky.

“-YOU ABSOLUTE ROAD WORMS.”

The racers start towards you-

“How exciting! Back to your bikes… yes, thank you, yes, please don’t kill her… thank you!”

Snickering to yourself, you fall down into the seat, hooking your boots in position on the pedals.

“The race is simple enough- first out to the Castle Rock to run up their flag and back, wins!”

You slip your helmet on-

“I don’t care what path you take-”

You tug at your gloves, ensuring they’re snug between each finger-

“Nor do I care what you do during the race!”

You flip down the visor of your helmet, your entire head and face protected-

“It’s all part of the fun!”

You lean forward- gripping the steering-

“Now, various organic beings… start your engines!”

-and your speederbike roars to life, pulsating beneath your body like a caged racehorse ready to run.

…

Wait-

…

It… just hit you…

Din- he-

-he never showed up.

…

Why would he avoid you, especially before an event this serious? Sure, he was… strange, aloof this morning just before he left you. But to be honest, so were you.

Waking up tangled in each other’s arms tends to do that.

…

Hells… if- if your behavior last night… ruined your friendship with him…

Oh stars, you’ll never forgive yourself.

He… but he promised that he’d speak to you before the race…

…

He never showed.

He never-

“Ka’r’ika-”

You scream-

“Hey, it’s me.”

“What the kark, Mando!” You lean back, twisting your helmet around to stare up at the crowd. “Get out of my helmet! You’re ruining my focus.”

You grin.

The Mandalorian kept his word… sort of.

“Sorry… just…”

You stare up at Thall’s skybox, the teasing gleam of Beskar vaguely visible through the glass.

“…stay safe.”

The static of the connection cuts.

…

You’re alone.

…

…

“READY…”

Your engine revs-

RED LIGHT-

Your bike pulsates-

YELLOW LIGHT-

Your grip tightens-

…

…

…

 Wait a minute…

…

GREEN LIGHT-

The speederbikes burst into the distance- gone, out of sight within a blink of an eye.

…

You stay still.

Unmoving.

Staring out at the distance.

“Uhhhh…. Go?”

You stare.

You feel it…

You… feel it…

You-

The wind lashes, nearly knocking you from your bike with a yelp. You hold on for dear life as the crowd screams, ducking down into their own seats to avoid the brutal pounding.

But more importantly-

The sky darkens in the distance-

A monstrous dust cloud swoops across the sand-

-straight for the scattered bikers blasting across the dunes.

And-

you grin.

High-pitched screams and crashing metal reverberate across the dunes.

…

…time to go.

You push forward-

-and blast off.

…

Avoiding the starving, all-consuming dust cloud, you swing to the right.

It’s a risky route.

But you’ve studied it.

You know what you’re doing…

…hopefully.

Movement catches your eye-

A miniature speederbike zooms up to your right- a creature no bigger than the baby just- screeches at you.

“What the fuck!”

A second bike smashes into your left.

“What the fuck!” you shriek, swinging to avoid another swipe.

You accelerate- push forward on the controls.

Get away get away-

Ah!

There- looming in the distance.

The cliffs.

Turning knobs with a snap, you hold your speed steady- maintaining your direction-

“OOF!”

The end of your speederbike slides to the right- the attacking biker heaves back- preparing to try again-

You blast forward-

-straight for the cliff walls.

You release a bark of laughter- the sound swallowed by the wind whooshing past.

Try following me now.

The cliff wall looms closer- closer- closer-

You drop to the right, hanging off the side of your bike as far as you can without falling off-

-shooting beneath the cliff walls and straight into a small cave that’s barely tall enough for even your bike to fit.

The handles of your bike scrape the rock formation looming mere inches above your head- you yelp at the sparks showering your body.

Well, thank the Maker this jumpsuit is fireproof…

Movement-

 Your head twists to the right-

That karkin’ little creature on his karkin’ little speederbike… grins at you- waves his hand as if to say “See? I fit, dumbass.”

You growl.

Oh, hell no.

…Approaching light.

You bust out of the cave, shooting straight up in your seat. You swing to the right- kick your foot out-

-the little creature flings into oblivion.

…

You’re alone again.

You push forward, gritting your teeth, and accelerate to full throttle.

You’re coming to an intersection in the path- this is where other racers might start to- ah! There!

Three bikes, crowding into one another, swerve around a column of boulders-

The lead speederbike trails straight for you.

Oh, Dank Ferrik.

Not again-

You scream as your speederbike lurches- rolls into tight, spinning loops. The bike that smashed into you barrels past-

You grit your teeth.

Get back here, you little-

You ram the back of his bike, grinning as he flings forward over his handlebars- run over by his own bike.

And yours.

Oopsie.

Castle Rock is approaching- it should be directly to the left- on the opposite side of the cliff wall blocking your line of sight.

You cut the corner- the roar of the remaining speederbikes still howling in your ear.

You punch the booster controls on your bike- but…

You’re painfully aware of a new shake, a new tremor of the bike that wasn’t there before.

Oh dear…

Hope this doesn’t backfire- literally.

With a groan, you blast into the canyon between the cliffs- giving your bike all it’s got.

Your mind blanks-

Instinct.

…

You’re running on instinct.

You swerve to the left- right- sharp right-

The roar of the speederbikes fade into the distance, left completely in your dust.

Heh.

The Blazing Womprat lives up to her name.

Oh, heck, here we go-

-You need to take a sharp left up ahead or you’ll completely miss Castle Rock-

You lift your left boot from the pedal- slide it across your seat- throwing every bit of your weight into the turn.

Your grip starts to slip- gloves desperately hold on for dear life. With a pathetic groan, you straighten, lift-

-There, Castle Rock!

And not another bike in sight.

You hit the brakes, sputtering to a stop. The thunder of engines storm in the distance behind you- you leap from your seat-

And you run for dear life.

The flags- the flags! Up ahead! At the top!

With a grunt, you scurry, fumble your way up the boulders-

“Get out of my way!”

Your head shoots back- other bikers have arrived, parked at the base of Castle Rock.

Oh, you don’t think so…

“Oops!” You grunt, shoving hard at a loose rock with your boot. “Sorry!” you yelp as they leap out of the tumbling rock’s path, screaming at the top of their lungs.

Giggling beneath your breath, you scamper to the top, the flagpoles just within r-

-PING-

-PING-

You scream- a bullet ricochets off your helmet.

“Seven Corellian hells!” you screech, stumbling to the ground.

Tuskans!

Damn it!

You clamber to your feet, pushing forward with all your might.

Bullets shower the ground, the pings mixing with the yelps of your fellow racers. “Kark off!” you scream at a Weequay as he barrels past you-

then drops dead.

Well, he karked off, all right.

Nice shot, Tuskans.

Not slowing in the least bit, you snatch up your flag color, hooking it to the-

“OOPS… heehee!”

You gasp- a Rodian- he… he cut your flagline.

You snarl at his fleeing back.

…

Fine.

Sticking the flag between your teeth, you grip the pole with your hands and begin to climb. Dank Ferrik- what the hell even is this race?

Ignoring the pings flying around you and praying they miss, you reach the top and tie off your flag.

A bell rings.

Done.

You’re first.

You’re cleared to go.

With a pained sigh, you take advantage of your height to observe the sight down below.

Grinning at the scuffle, the fight breaking out between the racers all fumbling to avoid both bullets and one another’s sabotage…

…an idea occurs.

You reposition your weight, careful to not lose your grip and slip down the pole into the chaos below… One deep breath… and you leap the gap, clasping onto the second flagpole for dear life.

“Hey!”

You stare down at a furious Twi’lek.

“Get down!”

You grin.

“Okay!”

Biting your lip, you wrap the flagline one… two… three times around your glove, tugging to ensure a good grip.

Oh, this is the dumbest idea ever-

With a grunt, you release the pole and-

You swing forward- and back- forward- and back-

…screaming like a wild Lothcat in heat.

With each swing, you feel the pole shift beneath you, loosening from its shallow base.

“WHAT ARE YOU-”

“Yipe!”

With an audible snap, the pole breaks from its foundation- cascading to the ground…

…and taking every single flagpole to the right down with it.

With an oof, you hit the ground, hard. Peeling your head up with a groan, you turn-

…

“Get her!”

Time to go.

You jump- jump- jump- down the boulders, not bothering to check the height. You just gotta to get the kriff out of there.

You’re so close.

Flinging yourself across the seat, you blast into the horizon, straight in the direction of the starting line.

You’re so close-

Engines rev in the distance.

…

You’re so close.

Thumb hovering over your thrusters- a speederbike emerges in the distance-

…it’s time for a shortcut.

A cliff to your right, it’s a steep drop, but you think you can…

Gritting your teeth, you accelerate, pushing what power is left within your bike into- you scream, sailing straight over the edge of the cliff.

Your thumb punches the reverse boosters, keeping your bike from smashing into a thousand pieces on the ground below. Speederbike clattering and clanking from the stress, you hit level ground and-

You made it.

“Holy Hutt!” you groan, the words shaky in the air from the brutal reverberations of your engine.

You’re… you’re going to win.

You keep your path straight, flying over the sand dunes.

You’re going to win.

You’re going to-

You scream-

A force-

A burst of light-

You soar through the air-

You scream-

…

…

…

Darkness.

…

----------------------------

…

…

Ignoring the abrupt shock of the harsh Sularian winter air, you race from your home, running straight down the mountain path.

"Starlight?”

You don’t stop at your father’s voice. You run faster- swiping at the tears dripping down your cheeks.

“Starlight!”

A hand grabs at your shoulder.

“Let m-me go!” you yell between your sobs, shoving at his hand. “I-I’m going to l-live wi-with G-Grandpa!”

“Hey, little one-” he spins you around; pulls you into his chest- “deep breaths, hm?”

“I’m- I’m not… little!” You sniff, pushing away from him. “I’m ten and r-running away!”

"Can I come?”

…

You stare at him, the sobs easing from your body.

“Huh?” -sniff- sniff- “What?”

He plops down on the snow beside you- staring up at the stars dusting the sky.

“Running away doesn’t solve anything, Starlight-” he looks at you, flashes you a lop-sided smile- “you know that, right?”

You pout your lips.

“But Mama is so… so… unfair!” You stomp your foot and flop down beside him. “She’s so mean with me! She likes Kalara more!”

He doesn’t chastise your outburst.

He just… grunts- rests his rifle across his lap.

"Starlight.”

You keep your eyes turned to the ground, shame burning your cheeks.

"What happened?”

…

“I… I hit Kalara- but she said I was mean first! And Mama took her side!”

…

A heavy sigh.

He reaches down, grasps your pendant in his hand.

"Do you know why you wear this?”

You scrunch your nose at him. “Because I’m the ‘oldest’,” you mock.

He lets it drop back against your chest. “Watch the attitude, kid. You wear it because, as the oldest-” his tone, while gentle as always, eases into something more serious- “you set an example to your little brothers and sisters. They look up to you and want to be like you.”

“They do not!”

“Do too.” He pokes your stomach, and you can’t help but giggle. “This necklace is a reminder of your responsibility…” His mouth quirks into a smirk. “Of your influence.”

"I don’t want it!”

“Well, Starlight,” he chuckles. “I can’t help you being born first, but I promise, one day, you’ll appreciate your little brothers and sisters.” He hooks a finger on his belt. “And one day, you’ll give that same pendant to your first born, if you wish, just as generations of our family before you have.”

“Eww!”

“Eww!” he mocks back.

You blink down at the pendant, curiosity blooming in your chest…

"If this was yours before I was born and you gave it to me-” you look up at him- “does that mean you were the oldest?”

He stares into the distance, quiets…

…

“Yes.”

…

“Oh.”

…

"Did… did you apr-chi-ate them?”

"‘Appreciate’. And yes.” He looks down at you, that lop-sided smile slowly returning. “I did very much.”

"…Do you miss them?”

He glances away, stares up into the starry sky.

“Very much.”

You blink- a wash of fear- fear for your brothers and sisters hitting you like a blizzard breeze and- and-

“Don’t be sad, Starlight.” He taps your pendant; points to the sky. “They are with the stars… I’ll see them again.”

He stands, heaves his rifle against his shoulder, and motions you to follow.

“Come, let’s go inside. I think someone has a few apologizes to make?”

“But Mama is mad at me…” you groan.

“I promise,” he chuckles, taking your hand in his own. “No matter what you do…”

…

“…your mother and I will hold you in our hearts…”

…

“…for eternity…”

…

…

…

--------------------------

The Mandalorian’s licking your face what the HELL-

Your eyes blast open-

“W-what?”

Something wet swipes your eyes. “Yipes!” You squint, throwing your arm across your face. “What the blasted- oh.”

…

A… dog.

Massiff dog.

…

Not… Din.

…

Oh.

The dog tilts his head at you, his tongue drooping out the side of its mouth.

“In my defense, you kinda look like Din though,” you giggle, patting the dog’s hard exterior. “You goofy little thing…”

Sighing, you reach up to rub your face…

Wait.

Where- where’s your helmet’s visor…? Why’s it… busted out…?

…

…

“OH BLASTED STARS.”

You scramble to your feet- a mistake. You cry at the pain that shoots, throbs from head to toe. “Damn it, damn it!” you groan, hobbling forward as your memory floods you all at once.

The dog mistakes your agony for playtime, hopping up and down, up and down, dancing little wiggle-butt circles around you.

“Back, dog! Back!” Your eyes scan the sky-

…Oh no.

It’s… the sun’s setting.

It’s evening.

No, no!

“Kriffin’ hells!” you moan, fingers digging into your palms. “My bike! My bike? I got to- where?”

…

There.

In the distance.

You grit your teeth.

…

…Sandcrawler.

“Stupid JAWAS!”

You burst forward, growling through every last ache. “Get BACK here!” you shriek, launching your helmet at the still-very-much-far-away sandcrawler. “Little thieves! I ought to- OOF!”

The dog cuts in front of you, dashing alongside your right.

“Dang it!” you yelp. “If you’re coming too, then help, not hinder!”

The dog just howls- gleeful and blissfully unaware of everything but “run. fast run.”

“Oh, Maker help me,” you moan.

You’re close enough now that the Jawas have noticed you. Hanging out of their little windows and doors, they begin screeching at you.

“Kark off!” you scream back, nearly tripping over your own feet. “And give me my blasted bike, or I’ll- OUCH!”

Whatever they threw- it damn well hurt.

…You shoulda left your helmet on.

The dog picks up the object in its mouth and brings it straight to you.

“O-oh… st-stars!” you puff, increasing your speed. You throw the object at a Jawa hanging from an open window. “H-hey, dog, maybe you are useful, hmm?”

Your praise must have confused the dog. He yelps once, turns around, begins running butt-first.

“Oh hell.”

Close enough now, you reach up, grip a pipe on the side of the crawler.

“Open, now!” you demand, banging on the metal.

A slot opens- you slap at the Jawa- it screams- slams the slot shut.

A higher window opens- something’s launched- you scream- it screams- the window shuts.

You wish you could say playing whack-a-mole with Jawas was the strangest thing you’ve done today…

“Dank Ferrik,” you groan, eyeing the Massiff dog running circles below your feet.

You’re getting into this thing if it kills you, so help you-

“Dank FERRIK!”

The jolt of the sandcrawler sends you hurling towards the ground.

“Force…”

You slowly, gingerly lift your head…

Stopped.

The sandcrawler… stopped.

…

Why…

You look up- the Jawas have the slots and windows peaked open, glancing around towards the front of the crawler…

…

They slam them shut.

…

Uh oh…

“Dog, I… I think we might be in trouble- wait!”

But it’s too late- the Massiff dog is darting towards the front of the crawler.

…

Silence.

…

Oh, what the hell.

You’re not leaving without your dog.

Pressing against the sandcrawler, you ease, creep your way forward. Closer… closer… closer-

-until you’re just one head peek away from seeing what’s caught the Jawa’s attention…

…

 Do… do you peek?

Or run?

…

Oh Huttsludge.

Maybe the Jawas-

“I’ve been watching you, little one.”

OH STARS OH STARS STARS STARS.

…

WHAT DO YOU DO?

…

You squeeze your eyes closed.

Oh, what the Corellian crap use is there in hiding?

He’s knows you’re here!

So-

You peek around-

…

A man.

…

A terrifying man.

…

You duck your head back.

…

…

You’re dead.

…

“Hey!” you hiss up at a Jawa. “Whatever beef we had before, we’re on the same side now. Let me in!”

The door slams shut.

“Why you-”

“Hello there, Princess-”

You shriek.

“Stay away!” you yelp, pressing your back up against the sandcrawler. “Or I’ll- I’ll stick my Massiff on you!”

Right on cue, the Massiff bolts past your legs, flying straight for the strange man-

-and drops- wiggling around on his back, begging the scary man for attention.

…

Great.

The man huffs, bends down to pat the Massiff’s exposed belly.

“I see you’ve trained it well.”

…

“Thanks…?”

Wait, was that an insult?

…

“I mean you no harm, Princess.”

Amused.

He’s… amused.

The man glances up at you, throws his hood back.

My stars, you observe his gnarled appearance. What… what terrible thing happened to him?

You almost blurt the question… almost.

“Who are you? What’s your name?” you ask instead, rather empowered by the fact he hasn’t yet- you know- killed you.

“I’m just a simple man making my way through the galaxy-” his gaze intensifies- “like my father before me.”

…

“Got an easier to remember name?”

“I’d rather learn yours.”

…

Is he… flirting?

…

Oh my gosh he’s flirting. Okay, you know what? The grizzled look is actually really hot. Like hot, hot. And, wow, he’s a big guy and you like big guys oh my gosh he’s flirting-

With a lop-sided smirk, you call out your first name. “But you can keep calling me Princess.”

The man chuckles, pats the Massiff one last time, and stands.

“I was speaking to the dog.”

…

“Oh.”

Damn it.

…

You glance at the Massiff.

“…Noodles?”

“A solid name.”

“Thanks.”

…

Okay, what the actual hell is this conversation-

You shake your head, knowing you should be afraid, terrified... but in your defense, it’s rather hard to feel that way while bonding with your potential killer over a dog.

“So… uh, what the hell do you want?”

The man lumbers forward, hands folded behind his back, as if… contemplating something.

“Your Mandalorian friend-”

He pauses, his imposing frame casting a cool shadow across your face.

“-he has something that belongs to me.” The man turns his eyes, so kriffing intense, to stare you down.

“And you can take me to it.”

“Uhhh….” You blink, words escaping your brain. “What… is it?”

“My armor.”

…

“All I request… is my armor returned.”

Gulping, you shake your head, afraid to give him your honest answer. “I-I’ve not seen any armor, but-”

“You might want to consider my words carefully, little one.”

His words slice the air.

“You and the Mandalorian have a rather large bounty on your head.” The man bends down, crouches upon the sand. “According to this chip-” he lifts his hand; a small data chip gleams in the setting sun- “that I took off the corpse of the man… that blew you in the air.”

Your mouth plummets to the ground.

“W-what?!”

He just stares up at you, waiting patiently for you to process his words.

“Damn it,” you growl, sinking down to the ground in front of him.

“If- and that’s if- I knew where this armor might be located-” you look up at him, brows furrowing- “why should I trust that you won’t still try and claim that bounty on us?”

He doesn’t speak- just holds your gaze.

…

His fist holding the datachip rises in the air-

-and crushes the chip into a thousand microscopic shards.

“You and your friends need to leave before more return.”

You gape down at the shimmering shards.

Stars, note to self, do not piss this guy off…

“News of this race, and your presence, will spread to the wrong ears.”

“Uhh…” You turn to stare at the retreating figure of the man in black. “Hey! Wait!” You leap to your feet, rushing right after him. “See that’s the problem- my friends are kind of…. uh, trapped by Thall.”

The man makes a noise.

“I will assist you if-”

“-you regain your armor,” you finish, rolling your eyes.

The first hint of a smile dusts his lips.

“What is your answer, then, Princess?”

…It’s not like you have a choice.

Your friends… Din… are still under Thall’s snare. For all you know, now that you’re out of the way, Thall- kark!- might make Din fight again!

…

You can’t let that happen.

You throw both hands on your hips- purse your lips.

“We have a deal.”

The man nods sharply, accepting your answer before turning, prowling down the length of the sandcrawler.

“I have an insider feeding me information from within Thall’s complex.” His strides are heavy, yet quick. You struggle to keep pace. “She will contact me with the necessary information, but for right now-”

-a screech splits the air.

You gasp- twist-

The Massiff stumbles around from the back of the crawler-

-dragging a behind it a writhing Jawa.

…

The man in black grunts.

“We need your bike.”

----------------------------

You need to scream.

Of all ways for this day to go, you never dreamed it would be riding back to the Razor Crest sitting in a strange man’s lap.

Well, not in his lap… but might as well be.

You wanted to drive. After all, it is your bike, which was thankfully undamaged enough to still ride at lower speeds, but he didn’t exactly give you a choice… You press back against his chest, sneaking a sharp glance to the left and right, gulping at how blasted thick and strong his arms that have you caged in are…

Boba Fett.

At least you now have his name.

It’s the very least you should know, considering your current intimate positioning.

Boba’s hand releases the bike’s handle- grips your shoulder to steady your body as you turn-

Stars-

Stars this is so awkward and you want to fling yourself to the ground you don’t care how fast you’re going-

But if you did that, Noodles would have to go too, since he’s squatted on the seat in front of you, your arms wrapped tightly around his body to keep him from jumping off at high speeds. And no matter how much you’re willing to potentially threaten your own life, you draw the karkin’ line at endangering animals.

Noodles glances back at you, tongue flapping in the wind, as if to say thank you kind ma’am for the hug.

…

…

The sky is pitch black, the air cool, biting, by the time you arrive at Peli’s hanger. Almighty stars, it feels like centuries since you last saw… there!

The Razor Crest!

You can’t believe you’re actually home!

You pause.

Home?...

…huh.

Stars, you can almost imagine… Din. Standing at the base of the ramp. Head angled at you as you run forward, holding the baby-

…the baby. Din. Cara. Pablo. Kark.

You… you need to hurry.

“Let me find someone before you go inside-” you yank off your gloves, toss them aside- “and your armor should be inside the ship… somewhere- I guess-”

A shrill squeak rips the rest of the words from your lips.

“Baby!” you gasp. You rush forward, crumpling to your knees. “Hey, little fella!” Your voice shoots ten octaves high as you squeeze, squish the little guy to your chest.

“Hey, hey-” you whisper, rubbing his head as his little squeaks intensify.

Crying.

He’s… crying-

“I know, I know.”

Kriffing hells.

“You’ve been alone too long.”

Damn it, damn it.

You’re going to cry. Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry.

“But you’re not alone now, hmm?” You pull back, force a cheesy grin to stretch across your face. “See? I’m back. Did Peli take good care of you?”

“AHHHH!”

You press the baby close- spin-

“4PO!” Peli screeches, racing around the side of the Crest. “MASSIFF DOG! PROTECT US!”

The droid hobbles around- stops-

<sensing potential threat>

…

<commencing deactivation protocol>

…

“Oh, kriffing hells…”

You glance over at the hanger door, locating the deadly Noodles…

…all four legs in the air as Boba pats his belly.

He gives you a bare hint of a smile.

“Excellent.”

----------------------------

 “Handsome little mister,” you sing, grinning ear-to-ear. “Gotta look snazzy to go rescue Daddy, hmm?”

The baby just stares at you, clearly unimpressed with his new threads.

“Come now. I’m the fun parent,” you laugh, straightening his little suspenders. “Tell you what, if you don’t like it by tomorrow-” you sit down beside him- “I promise I won’t make you wear it again. We’ll try something else I bought you in town.”

The baby grabs a sock off the table- throws it to the ground with a scream.

“Okay.” You quirk a brow. “We hate socks today, that’s fine.” You lean forward, pressing a quick kiss against his head.

The baby’s grabby hands reach up, begging to be held. Without hesitation, you lift him up and place him down in your lap.

“That nice man should be finished dressing soon,” you absentmindedly mumble, twisting your eyes to watch Peli buzz around the back of the hanger. “And then we’re going to- oh.”

A little tug around your neck pulls your attention back down-

The baby- he’s tugging on the twine of your necklace.

“Ah,” you chuckle, pulling the pendant out from beneath your shirt.

“You want to look?”

He stares up at you, into your eyes.

…

…

-pressure-

…

you feel…warm pressure-

…

it dusts against…

…

It’s… it’s like…. something’s pressing against a- a membrane…

….

-pressure-

…

-a thick membrane in your mind and-

…

w-what- is-?

Body trembling, you press back-

the membrane slips and- and-

…

“Mother?”

You gasp, clapping a hand over your mouth.

Who..? Wh-what just-?

Something dusts your hand, and you jolt in your seat- eyes shifting down…

…

“Was… was that you?” you whisper, eyes blasting wide open.

The baby only giggles.

…

…

Oh kriff.

…

You flop back in the chair, stare up at the sky.

“Is this a… force thing?”

You’re speaking to yourself more than anything…

“Holy kark,” you groan, slapping your hands across your eyes. “…These kinds of powers are beyond my pay grade….”

Dank Ferrik, you knew you should have paid closer attention to your mother’s lessons… She was as close to an expert on the force as any Jedi, you suppose... Was it your fault you would rather be with your dad, learning how to effectively hit your siblings with stick spears? Mama damn near bored you to death with her long lectures of “light side energy.”

…Whatever that means.

See? You should have paid attention, Dank Ferrik!

The baby tugs on your necklace again.

You blink.

-pressure-

This time, you let the membrane slip right away.

“You are Mother?”

You just… stare.

“Feel force.”

…

“I, uh…”

“Feel her.”

…

His… his question-

Are you a Mother?

…

Emotion scalds the back of your throat.

…

“Yes…”

He… he feels her.

“This… this belonged to my little girl.”

The necklace-

…He feels her.

“A-and mine. And my father’s.” Your voice softens, affection dusting each and every word. “Going back generations.”

Swallowing down the lump, the ache squeezing in your chest, you force a tight smile.

-the warmth brushes against your mind-

-you open up- let him back in-

…

“Grogu.”

…

You blink-

“Grogu?”

He bursts into little squeals.

“Is that your name, Bean Dip? Grogu?”

The little toothy grin he flashes you is the only confirmation you need. Matching his grin with one of your own, you laugh- pull him close.

“Can I still call you Bean Dip sometimes?” you ask.

He doesn’t answer- instead grabs at your necklace again, studying it intently.

You can only… smile at his interest…

You… remember Valera doing the very same thing… grabbing at it- sticking it in her mouth- drooling all over it-

…

Hell.

…

…

“Hey, hey, Grogu-” your voice wavers- you clear your throat- “You know… I’m- I’m always losing things.”

Deep breath.

“Would you mind… keeping this for me?”

You slip the necklace over his head, letting it fall loose. You reach out, pat it against his belly.

…yes.

For the time being…

…this is where it belongs.

Ignoring your welling ache, you force another tight smile.

“I think-” you give the necklace a few short tugs- “it completes your ‘let’s rescue daddy’ outfit perfectly.”

…He agrees.

“Holy Mudslug!” Peli’s yelp tears at your attention. “Look at ‘em!”

You glance up-

-and your stomach squeezes.

…

Oh.

Oh no.

…

Mandalorian.

…

“Fett!” you bark, setting the baby down. You leap to your feet, stomp to the bottom of the ramp.

“You mean to tell me that you’re a Mandalorian?” You stare up at Boba defiantly, feet set apart and hands thrown on your hips. “And you just… forgot to mention that?”

Dank Ferrik! When Boba said “armor,” you assumed it was, like, biking armor or something.

…

But Beskar?

…Well…now you understand why he wanted it back so badly…

Boba doesn’t react to your little outburst- just… crosses his wrists in front of him, staring down at you with that damn unreadable visor.

“Oh! Great! Another Mandalorian,” Peli grumbles, sweeping past you, a broom gripped in her hand. “You know, my hanger was the safest place on Tatooine-” she shakes her broom at Boba- “until you Mandalorians started showing up!”

“Peli! Come now-” you grasp her broom, forcing her to lower it- “how many have you even serviced? Mandalorians are practically extinct.”

“Counting yours and this green guy?”

You nod.

Peli glances up at the sky, counting on her fingers.

“Two.”

…

“But I want him out of here!” she squawks- shoving a hand in the air at him.

“You’ll have your wish soon, ma’am.”

Amusement laces Boba’s deep tone- thank the Maker.

“And I am beholding to your…kind hospitality.”

“Weeellll,” Peli blushes, eyes darting around at the ground. “I- I guess it’s fine if you stay- but not much longer!”

Peli shoots you a glare and snatches her broom back from your hands. She jabs her thumb at the ship. “Watch him; he’s a big -un.”

…

Sigh.

…

Twisting back around, you frown at Boba's darkened visor.

“I thought Mandalorians didn’t show their faces?”

-a sharp huff.

“Never said I was one.”

You blink.

“Then… the armor…?”

“Mandalorians are complicated, Princess.”

…What the hecking Hutt does that mean? Is he or isn’t he one?

…oh.

…forget it.

Crossing your arms, you shift your weight to one leg.

“Well, what now?”

“My contact has informed me that your friends are to be taken to a location out in the desert- unsure why.” Boba hulks down the ramp, patting your shoulder as he passes by.

“Stars!” you groan, pulling your hat down low.

This… can’t be good.

Din…

Just… hold on, Din.

“I have the coordinates.” Loading his belt with charges, Boba steals a quick glance at you- noting your expression. “Don’t worry, little one,” he chuckles. “We’ll have your babysitter back in one piece shortly.”

“I can assure you,” you huff, a small smile teasing at the corner of your mouth. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Undoubtably.”

You release a pained sigh, flick your hat back out of your face.

“Well then, I guess it’s time to-” movement draws your attention; you turn just in time to watch Grogu slide the remaining pile of socks to the ground- “…go.”

“Hey, if you’re leaving-” Peli stalks forward, cleaning her hands with a rag. “I guess that means I won’t see the rest of you again, huh?”

You give Peli a wry smile.

Peli sighs, slaps the side of your arm.

“Do me a favor then.”

She scurries away, muttering under her breath.

…

“Uhhh… Peli?”

She turns back around the corner, arm motioning at something hidden behind a stack of crates.

“Come on- don’t be shy.”

…

Oh, hell no-

“I’ve decided to make the ultimate sacrifice-” Peli pushes 4PO forward- “and gift 4PO here as a parting gift-”

“No.”

-“to Pablo.”

“Oh.”

…

Peli leans into you- covers her mouth with a hand.

“I think the two of them really bonded.”

…

“Peli-” you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from bursting into laughter- “I would be more than happy to present to Pablo 4PO on your behalf.”

“Oh ho! Fantastic!” Peli cackles, clapping her hands together. “Droid, get on up that ramp!”

4PO shakes- falls prostrate on the ground.

…

…

You’re beginning to relate a little too much to this droid.

…

----------------------------

“I’ll tie you up, Princess.”

“No!” You rush after Boba, pulling your blaster from its holster. “I’m going too! You can’t-”

“You want to help?” snaps Fett’s contact, a helmeted woman named Fennec. “Then stay out of our way.”

You sneer. “How about I-”

“Princess-”

Boba turns on his heel, grips your shoulder.

“Stay with the ship.” His tone is hard, biting. “And stay in this cave.”

…

“Do I make myself clear?”

…

Your mouth opens… closes.

Please…

Please just let me come.

But Boba is not the kind of man to relent to a pair of pleading eyes- he reaches out, nudges your chin with his knuckles.

“Keep your commlink on-” his voice is… softer, but nowhere near sympathetic- “and keep it close.”

And then just like that-

They’re gone, blasting away across the sand dunes.

Leaving you all alone in eerie…

Silence.

…

Corellian hells.

You crumple to the ground, your face buried in your hands. You inhale sharply, squeezing your eyes tightly closed in a poor attempt to keep from absolutely losing it.

…

A fight to the death.

A fight to the death-

What if-

What if they don’t get there in time? What if someone’s already dead? Stars! Pablo is all bark and no bite- he’ll be the first to croak! And- and Cara- and Din, kark… damn it, damn it, damn. IT-

“ARG!” You leap to your feet, snarling up at the rising twin suns, as if they were somehow to blame for your mess.

Stay behind?

…

You blink.

Stay behind, your ass.

With one final glare, you spin around- marching back inside the mouth of the cave. You rush past Boba’s own starship- making a direct path towards the Razor Crest.

“Grogu!” you yelp, racing inside the belly of the Crest. “I’ve got to go, baby. Stay in this ship-” you fling open the Mandalorian’s storage unit packed with weapons- “and do absolutely nothing.”

Chewing on your lower lip, you let your eyes graze across Din’s pride and joys-

What the hell do some of these even do?

Which should you-

…

Oh.

You… you’ve seen that one before.

…

Your hand hesitates, then snatches the rifle from the rack.

“4PO-” you bark, loading your pockets with ammo. “Keep the ship on lockdown. You can manage that, hm?”

<lockdown protocol prevents killers from boarding.>

“That’s kind of the point of a lockdown,” you grumble, slamming the storage doors shut.

<excellent. your request is acceptable.>

You spin around on your heel, looking for-

“Grogu.”

There he is- sound asleep, little face buried against the Massiff’s belly-

-and your pendant clenched tightly in his hand.

…

Stay.

You should… stay for him.

If- if something happens to Din, he will need you.

…

He needs… he needs-

-hold on.

…

…Rumbling?

The ground outside the ramp is… rumbling- pebbles and loosened dirt sprinkling down from the cave’s ceiling.

Something’s flying overhead.

This… can’t be good-

With a miserable groan, you start forward, pausing just before the exit.

You glance back-

“We’ll all be back soon, Grogu, I promise.” You stare at the sleeping child’s form. He doesn’t so much as even stir at your words.

“And I mean all of us.”

…

“I promise.”

…

And with one final breath, you run down the ramp- the baby left behind, cocooned within the belly of his home.

Dashing forward, you emerge from the mouth of the cave just in time to catch fleeting sight… of…

…

-a hitch, a catch in your breath.

…

…

Damn it.

…

…

Th-the symbol on that ship-

You… you only caught a brief glimpse, but…

…

Shit.

…

Nok.

Kriffing Nok is here?

You- you have to leave Tatooine.

-kriffing now.

…

If- if you take your speederbike, leave immediately, y-you could take a shuttle and…

…

…

Leave?

…But-

But if you leave again…

Heart squeezing- shredded into a thousand fraying strands, you glance back at the mouth of the cave.

…

…

Running away doesn’t solve anything, Starlight.

…

…

Kark it.

…

You’re done running.

This time, you fight.

…

You’re not leaving Tatooine without your boys.

…

…

---------------------------

-BOOM-

You slam on your speederbike’s breaks, the bike groaning against the force. You waste no time in shutting it off, launching from the seat before it’s even fully stopped.

-BLAST-

Dank ferrik dank ferrik dank ferrik-

-BLAST-

-BLAST-

Growling through your teeth, you push forward, rifle held in a death grip against your side.

“Gunna try and kill my Mandalorian?” you snarl. “And my friends? Oh, I think the hell not, Thall. Eat blaster dust!”

You skid to a stop- boots sliding within inches of an…. uh, extraordinarily high descent.

Dropping to your knees, you peer over the edge of the cliff, peer at the canyon floor far, far down below.

What’s going on?

Where-?

You gasp, pressing a hand to your mouth.

Holy Kowakian monkey lizard!

Your eyes widen, watching as flamethrowers and blaster bolts and bodies fly and fling and throw-

Those who aren’t sprawled out on the ground karkin’ dead are certainly about to be karkin’ dead. The crowds- the pleasure barges- Thall- are long gone, no doubt fled when extra firepower arrived in the form of a pissed-off Boba Fett and co.

In fact, to you, it looks like they’ve just about wiped the canyon clean.

Holy Huttslug! You purse your lips. They didn’t leave anyone for you, darn it.

Ah well.

Grumbling beneath your breath, you lay out flat on your stomach. You knock your hat back, positioning the scope of the rifle against your eye.

“Din!” you laugh, watching as he stabs a Weequay in the chest. “Get ‘em, baby! Oh my gosh GET HIM! Hell YEAH!”

Reaching down into your pockets, you retrieve the extra ammo- loading the rifle with-

“Ayyeeaaaaa!”

You gasp, and you peer back through the scopes, zooming in to watch as your friends… whoop and cheer.

Oh, they did it! They actually blasted did it!

A grin cracks across your face, your anxiety pushed to the back of your mind for the time being. Because for now?  

THEY BLASTED DID IT!

Giggling, you pull up your knees, prepared to leap up and-

…Wait a minute- who is that? He’s not-

-you freeze.

…

Oh.

…

Oh no.

Hissing through your teeth, you drop to your belly, press the scopes against your eye. There- Nok- approaching the group. He stops- stands several yards away from your friends.

…

Nok… what the hell is he doing here? That slimy Huttscum! Shavit! Just… shavit! What does that- that spiteful man want?

…

“Crink it!” You smash your fist against the ground. “Blast!”

This is bad. Really, really bad.

…

They’re- they’re all talking together. His hands are up now- What- what are they saying?

Kark

Kark!

What- what do you- oh kriff oh kriff-

You pull your twitching eye away from the scope- glance down at your belt.

…an idea.

“Fett,” you mumble into the communicator. “No questions- turn on your comm.”

You watch Boba through the scopes- he does not scan his surroundings, does not try and look around for you. He just… reaches up, taps his helmet.

-static- “-not here ..r you.”

Nok’s voice is faint, hard to make out. You curse, turning up the comm’s volume as loudly as it will allow.

“What do you want?”

You jump at Din’s voice, cutting in loud and clear through your comm channel. Biting your lip, you are frozen with panic and fear and oh blast what should you do Nok will ruin everything what do you do-?

…

Kriff!

You press, squeeze your eyes closed-

You… you can’t go back.

Your lower lip trembles.

…You can’t go back!

…

“Don’t shoot the messenger. I don’t particularly want to be here either, but I wasn’t exactly given a choice,” Nok answers Din. “I’m here to present to you an offer.”

No- no you trust nothing coming from Nok- nothing!

“ …What kind of offer?”

Oh stars. With a sharp inhale of air, you raise, hover your scopes just above their heads, watching, listening-

“There’s a woman you’ve been traveling with. If you hand her over into my care-” Nok sighs, leans to one side as if bored- “you will be compensated generously in return for your cooperation.”

Oh-

Oh stars- NO!

You’re not going back to Nar Shaddaa. You can’t-

Nok- he needs to shut up-

Shut up before he ruins everything!

“Request- denied.”  The Mandalorian’s tone is… hell- he might kill this man himself. “How much-” he steps forward- “how much to call off the hunters you have on her?”

Nok just chuckles.

“You mean my patron? My patron is not the one who called the hunters on her … Believe me, I’d enjoy nothing more than watch her hunted down, personally. But my patron is… concerned for her. Wishes to shield her. And, alas, I am at his beck and call.”

“Your patron?” you snarl, tightening the grip on your rifle. You hover it just above Nok’s head. “Your patron can eat Banthashit, Nok, and you along with him. I’m not. going. back. Especially not with you.”

“What makes you think that I’d agree to this?” The Mandalorian’s tone is… dangerously calm.

“You can keep running, but she will be tracked down eventually,” Nok chuckles, clearly amused by all this- this mess you’re in- the kriffing creep. “This isn’t going away, Mandalorian.”

Hell-

You’re so… tempted to shoot him before he talks, blabs and ruins everything! Din- kark!- your past, it would ruin everything. He’d… he’d be disgusted and… and-

“This isn’t your problem, Mandalorian,” Nok sighs.

“…Her problems-” the Mandalorian’s hand inches towards his blaster- “are my problems.”

You blink.

…Stars.

“You really don’t have any idea what this involves, do you?” Nok laughs- brighter than you ever thought him capable of. How comforting to know your predicament brings him so much blasted joy. Maker knows the man is miserable otherwise.

Nok takes a step forward.

“You may know who she is, but it’s clear you don’t know what she is.”

Shut up shut up shut up.

Nok’s going to ruin everything. Din will- he will… damn it. You’re going to burst-

“My patron had hoped we could do this the clean, easy way. Avoid future bloodshed.”

…

The Mandalorian takes a slow, deliberate step forward.

“That’s where you were mistaken.”

He draws his blaster-

“Because not only would I die for her-” he points the weapon at Nok- “I’d kill.”

You pull away from your scope, mouth gaping open.

You- you never realized…

…

But… of course that’s how he feels.

“So, you go back to your patron-” the Mandalorian reholsters his weapon, his tone cool, even- “and you tell him that.”

Nok shakes his head, sighs. “Well, only if you promise to tell her I look forward to seeing her again very soon… in the latest fashion of prison restraints.”

The Mandalorian storms forward- drawing his weapon- Nok draws his-

They freeze- stare at each other.

“Oh great, she really has you under her thumb, doesn’t she?” Nok snorts, waving his weapon to the side. “You should reconsider. She’s selfish, you know. She’ll throw you aside as soon as she no longer needs you. Never cared about anything or anyone except herself and that little brat of hers.”

He chuckles- leans forward-

“Let’s just say it was hilarious irony …

…what happened to the little girl.”

…

…

Hilarious irony…

…

Hilarious irony-

…

Hilarious-

Red flashes- flashes in your eyes-

…

…

You- you’re-

…

…Hilarious irony.

…

…

The dam holding back your terror and grief and fury…

Erupts-

…

See you in hell, bastard.

…

You pull the trigger.

…

And you don’t miss.

Shouting- shouting from down below-

Damn it- they… they can’t find you here! You need to go!

With a sharp inhale of breath, you aim your rifle sights at a safe, yet convincing, distance from your friends, and-

-BLAST-

-BLAST-

-BLAST-

“Take cover!”

And at Cara’s muffled cry, you stumble up to your feet… and run.

Oh Maker, how are you- yipes! Jetpack- you hear a jetpack! Go-

GO!

Pressing a hand to your mouth, you choke back the sob, the howl threatening to tear from your lips. Flinging yourself across the speederbike, you ignore the warning tremors of the damaged bike, blasting across the dunes and away from the scene of your crime.

…

But you’re not finished yet.

You have to find Nok’s ship.

Wipe the computers.

Dump it out in the desert to rot.

…

But… but before it’s wiped… there’s something you must take from the starship’s computers…

----------------------------

<tier 1 security clearance code request>

-security code: 345-453

<security clearance code APPROVED>

<drellik computer archives accessed>

<how may i assist you?>

-begin download on all encrypted data filed under: valera dayne

<tier 3 security clearance code request>

-security code: starlight-2171

<security clearance code APPROVED>

<file download estimated between 1 and 3 standard hours to completion. commence with download?>

-yes

<command accepted. please enjoy our selection of jazz instrumentals while we select your files>

-have i not suffered enough today?

---------------------------

“WHERE have you BEEN?”

You lift your dry, burning eyes, spying Pablo- baby on his hip and Massiff at his heels- rushing down the ramp of the Crest.

“We’ve been searching hours for you!” He pulls you into a one-armed hug. The Massiff- Noodles, you suppose- not one to be left out of the fun, wiggle-butt dances around you for 3.5 seconds until he’s distracted by a moth.

“Stars,” you groan, every achy muscle and bruise throbbing at Pablo’s touch. You open your mouth to say something, but a sharp squeak steals those words from your lips.

You glance down.

“Little fella.” Flashing a tired smile, you reach out, taking the babbling child from Pablo’s hip. “See? I told you we’d be back!” 

He stares up at you- giggles, and your tired smiles warms. The kid didn’t need the force to communicate with you this time. You know- can feel- what he’s feeling…

He’s… he’s really, really glad you’re back.

“Well, looks like you’re all in one piece, Bean Dip.” You quirk a brow, reaching out to stroke Grogu’s ear. “A miracle, if you’ve been in Pablo’s care all day…”

“The hell, Sweetheart?” Pablo throws his hands on his hips. “Is that the thanks I get? I’ve done nothing today but wipe up drool, chase after the kid, clean up after him- oh, and that thing?”

He glares at Noodles- busy running laps around Fett’s starship and howling at dust particles.

“It shit on the floor.”

Heh.

Good dog.

“Look Pablo, we can fuss about that later,” you sigh, legs trembling with exhaustion. You pull the baby closer, his presence a… comfort… A comfort you need right now as things are about to get…uh, complicated.

“You said… everyone’s out searching for me?”

“All day practically.” Pablo crosses his arms. “Mando was hell-bent on finding you before sundown… which is just about now, coincidentally.”

You swallow back the lump in your throat.

“I… I see.”

…

“What- what happened-” you bite your lip- “after my bike… kaboomed?”

Pablo huffs, flashes you a look. “The cameras following your bike cut immediately. And Thall refused to let us go rescue you and said he’d send his own men instead… which, uh, the Mandalorian did not take well… to put it mildly.”

You grit your teeth.

Thall- you scumbag.

“Mando annihilated half his security team, and-” Pablo shrugs- “according to that Fett guy, you know the rest of the story. With their help, we demolished Thall’s men- we didn’t die- and now you’re back! Overall, a successful trip to Tatooine, I suppose…”

…

Dank Ferrik…

That… look he just gave you. He’s… holding back about Nok, about the- the things he said. Maker! You- keep it together.

Keep it together for the-

“Ka’r’ika?”

You whirl-

“Din, I-”

-you’re swept up.

His arms clutch, grab at your body like you might disappear, float away, if he dared let go.

“Ner Ka’r’ika.”

His voice is hoarse… strained.

You bury your grimace against his chest.

Stars stars stars! What- does he suspect? What does he think of you after- after Nok’s… rantings?

You-

You can’t do this-

You can’t do this!

You lift your free hand, and shove at his chest. Din jolts, tears back, and the comfort of his hold slips away, leaving your body abandoned and starving for warmth.

You’ve startled him. He’s giving you that little head-tilt, the one he uses when he can’t quite figure you the kriff out.

“Din.” You force a light-hearted tone, adjusting the baby against your hip. “Uh, hi.”

…

He pauses, then dips his helmet forward- scanning your grungy appearance up and down. Keeping his left hand stiff against his side- he reaches up with the other, presses the gloved hand against your cheek.

“Look at me.”

You swallow- staring at anything but his visor.

He tentatively, carefully turns your face- inspecting the flowering bruises.

“Are you okay?”

…

“Nothing’s broken.” You swallow again. “I’ll live.”

“Kid’s built of tough stuff.”

Your eyes widen, shoot to the right-

Boba.

Kark- he knows- he knows you were at the canyon. He… he answered your comm. Of course he knows! Did he tell?

“She launched a hundred feet into the air and was up and fighting Jawas within the hour.”

You flash him a faint smile. “I landed on my hard head.” You grip Din’s hand still pressed to your cheek, drawing it away.

“Good to see you in one piece, Blazing Womprat,” Cara chuckles, unstrapping a rifle from her side. “Which is truly astounding after some of those insane stunts you pulled.” She steps forward, stops beside Pablo. “Pablo almost passed out from cheering too hard.”

“That was nothing.” You can’t resist the self-satisfied smirk that flicks up at the corner of your mouth. “You should see me-”

“-on a swoopbike.”

You stare at Din.

“Where have you been?”

Kriff, you knew the question would come eventually. You… hope your story checks out- that Boba doesn’t ruin things.

You place the baby down, letting him toddle across the ground towards Pablo.

“I decided to go a bit outside the cave, check around, you know?” Shaky breath. “One of Thall’s transports spotted me- recognized me… So, I, uh, took the bike out, far, far away from the Crest, as fast as I could in its damaged state, hoping to keep it… hidden.” Trembling hands in pockets. “Worked great until I got turned around. Took me a while to find my way back.”

…do they believe you?

Your eyes sweep across their faces- their shoulders relaxing...

They believe you.

…

But… then there’s Boba, and possibly Fennec. You- you need to talk to them.

“Well,” Pablo sighs. “What a way to spend the day… So, what now?”

“We’ve talked it over-”

You turn to Din.

“For tonight, we stay in this cave. Lay low. Analyze the situation tomorrow.”

Heavy sigh.

You… can’t argue with that. Laying low- resting… For one night, you need it. You need it desperately.

“Sounds like bedtime,” Pablo sighs, already blazing a path for the Crest. You watch, blinking, as the rest follow suit, each leaving for their respective ships.

“Pablo,” you call out, voice traced with exhaustion. “Take Noodles inside.”

“The hell?”

“My dog.”

“…No way! That thing is not sleeping in-”

“Noodles!” Cara calls, laughing as the dog highspeed races up the ramp.

“Your dog?”

You turn at Din’s rasp-

Stars… you want to cry at the stiffness, the rigidity in his body… You know you caused it, but…

“It’s going to eat bad people for me on Keolith.”

…

He just grunts at that.

Stars…

Pulling your hat low across your brows, you sigh, “Go on to bed, Mando. I- I think I’m going to spend some time on… Fett’s ship…”

You need space.

…

You need space to think.

…

“And maybe… maybe stay the night.”

The Mandalorian’s arms drop.

…

…

…

“……Okay.”

…

And just like that, he’s scooped the child up into his arms- trudging away towards the Razor Crest, cape fluttering at his heels.

…

Damn it.

You stare at the Crest.

…

That… came out wrong.

…

…

----------------------------

“Princess,” Boba smirks, lifting a glass as you walk through the door.

You discovered Boba and Fennec where you expected- sitting in the cockpit of his ship… as if they knew you were coming.

“No thanks.” You throw your hands on your hips. “We need to talk.”

Something flies at your head- you catch it.

Opening the palm of your hand, you gawk down at-

“Next time,” Boba chuckles, “don’t leave your commlink at the scene of a hit job.”

…

“Oh.”

You swallow.

“Oops?”

“Nice shot.” Fennec smirks. “And here I thought you were inexperienced.”

…

You are inexperienced…

“Lucky first-time assassination, is all.” A pang knocks against your chest cavity. “Beginner’s luck?”

Oh stars, stop trying to be cute. Now’s not the time- you’re having a mental crisis for Maker’s sake-

“Thank you for not saying anything,” you mumble, eyes flicking between Boba and Fennec. “It… would have put me in an awkward position.”

…

You bite your lower lip…

Just blurt it out.

“Boba,” you sigh, “why are you helping me?”

…

Arms pressed against his thighs, Boba leans forward.

“Just fulfilling my end of the deal.”

Something… flicks in his eyes- the first time you’ve seen his mask… falter.

…oh.

…

He’s lying.

“Go, Princess-” a dust of a smile shadows his face- “you’re with the wrong Mandalorian tonight.”

…He’s right.

And with a deep grimace, you head for the door-

“I would have shot him too-”

You glance back at Boba.

“-if that helps you.”

You flash him a small smile.

…

It does…

…

----------------------------

“Where’s… uh, Mando?” you ask, head popping up into the Crest’s cockpit from the ladder below.

Pablo shrugs, focused intently on his card game with Cara.

“In his room.” Cara smashes a card on the dash- Pablo erupts into groans.

"Pay up, Babycakes…”

With a roll of your eyes, you begin descending the ladder. When your feet touch the floor, you freeze- overwhelmed, paralyzed with… anxiety?

Damn it… it’s… just Mando…

Just… do it!

Pursing your lips, you march past a prostrate 4PO with a snoring Noodles- all four feet in the air- resting beside him. And with one final march forward, you find yourself right at the Mandalorian’s door…

…

“…Mando?”

knock- knock-

“Uh, can I… come in?”

…

…

“It’s unlocked.”

Chewing on your lower lip, the door snaps open beneath your touch.

…

“Din?” you call out hesitantly, sticking your head inside.

“Thought you were with Fett.”

Your eyes turn in the direction of the refresher.

…

“His… ship smelled weird.”

The refresher door snaps open, and Din steps out-

“BLAST!” you yelp, stumbling backwards. “What the hell! Where’s your armor!?”

Dank Ferrik! It’s- it’s like looking at the man naked! Should you, you don’t know, spin away!?

Din just… tilts his helmet at you- rests his hands at the waist of his flight suit.

“I don’t sleep in my armor.”

…oh.

You lean back against the closed door, listening as Din shuffles around the room.

Kriff! What do you say? … Why isn’t he saying anything? Oh gosh oh gosh-

“Where’s the baby?” you blurt, beginning to turn towards him. “Is he- OH-”

ARM REVEAL.

…

OH SHIT.

SHIT.

KRIFFING GUNS-FOR-DAYS.

“I put him down in the bunk.”

“Huh?” you puff, snapping your eyes away from his… his big-ass GUNS- oh kriff.

“The child-” Din steps over a pile of junk to open a drawer- “he was... fussy.” He pauses… hooks his thumbs on his suspenders. “I thought… maybe he’d sleep better near your scent.”

Oh-

Oh stop just throw you into the pits of Carkoon will you.

Shoulders slumping forward, you groan inwardly- using every bit of your determination to not bolt right out the door.

Oh kriff, you hate this- this awkwardness. Just… ask him something! And for the love of all things good and holy- DON’T STARE AT HIS ARMS.

“What are you, uh, doing?”

“Going to bed.”

“Oh.”

…

You blink.

…

“Okay, goodnight-”

Flinging around, you reach for the door, but a hand, a grip on your wrist pulls you back.

“What are you doing?” you snap, stumbling at the motion.

“You need a real bed.”

“So do you.”

“I know.”

Oh.

Oh.

…

Well then.

…

Hell yeah.

…

You let him lead you, guide you around a pile of clothing- like a shepherd leading his flock through a minefield… only instead of a minefield it’s Din’s rancid room.

…But that’s an argument for another day.

Pausing at the foot of his bed- his visor trails down your legs…

"Sit.”

Damn it if you won’t obey. Stars, you’re pathetic.

“Din, what are you-”

He drops to his knees- bare fingers fumbling with the laces of your dust-caked boots. You watch- fighting to keep your expression neutral as the ridiculous man begins to remove your shoes for you.

…You also have to fight to not stare at his exposed arms and blasted-broad shoulders, but you’re much less successful at that part…

“Best be careful, Din Djarin.” A small smirk begins to grow. “I could get really used to this kind of treatment.”

“Who was he?”

You blink.

“…Huh?”

“That-” Din’s fingers pause- “that man.”

 Your mouth pops open at his… vehemency.

“Boba?” You quirk a brow down at him.

Blast- what does Din… what does Din think?

He remains… silent, removing your second boot without a word.

“That man you kissed,” he puffs.

You blink… oooooohhh….

Leaning to your side, you pick at a loose thread on the bed. “He’s a… friend.”

“Looked like more than a friend,” the grumble slips beneath his helm. He stands, flicks a hand at you.

“Get out of those clothes.”

Thank the Maker- a topic change!

With a heavy sigh, you march yourself over to his drawers. You didn’t have to ask- you’re well beyond the asking stage.

“Mando?” you toss over your shoulder. “Um…What’s your favorite color?”

…

“Red.”

…

You can do red.

Snatching a scarlet flannel from the drawer, you slam it shut- sweeping into the refresher to change. As you remove your grimy clothes, you stare in the mirror at the scars- the marks on your forearm.

“You know, Mando,” you shout through the closed door, forcing your eyes away from the baggage of your past. “Do you ever wonder what your life would be like if the world hadn’t imploded under your feet as a kid? I know I do.”

Talking comes easier when you can’t see him….

…

Footsteps… shuffling… drawers opening and closing-

“Working my father’s trade…” Silence. “He was… a carpenter.”

Your fingers pause mid-buttoning. “Sounds… peaceful.” Unlike bounty hunting, goes unsaid.

“I think-” you reach for a towel- “that I’d have left Sularia, for sure. As much as I loved it…”

As much as you miss it…

“…There wasn’t much to do in the mountains except get married, have kids, chase kids, heard animals, shovel snow, fucking yodel… you get the picture.”

The door snaps open, and you press the side of your face against the doorframe. “I’ve always craved excitement, much to my parent’s displeasure…”

There he is- Din- sitting on the side of the bed… watching you.

He tilts his head forward- leans against his thighs. “I’d say you found yourself that excitement,” he snorts.

Understatement of the year.

Aches mixing with your exhaustion, you release a pained groan as you ease next to him on the bed. Body sinking in on itself, you brush, lean against his side.

Safe.

Safe.

Safe.

“Will you leave us again?”

His voice is but a whisper.

 “If I left-” you lift your chin, flashing him a small smile- “I’d have to buy my own flannels.”

Silence.

…

He reaches out, tugs on your flannel sleeve.

“Can’t have that.”

…

“Go to sleep.”

A weary smile dusts your lips.

Yes, sir.

…

Scrambling up to the head of the bed, you shove your legs beneath the blankets and flop over to face the wall. Burying deep beneath them, you squeeze your eyes shut.

Blankets lift-

Weight on the mattress-

Heavy sigh-

Blankets pull and drop.

…

Oh kriff, he’s right behind you… Guess that’s how sharing a bed works…

…

Oh kark it.

You blink at the wall.

…

Time to make things weird.

“Roll over!” you shout, flinging up out of the bed. Din jolts back- startled by your outburst.

“W-what-?” He pulls the blankets up to his neck.

“MOVE!”

You yank on his arm- forcing him to roll over.

You can’t help but giggle as he obliges.

See? You don’t have to spend all night worrying about accidently touching him if you’re already touching him.

Life hack.

Now that Din’s properly flopped over and facing you in the bed, you crawl back under the blankets. You tug on his exposed arm- snaking it across your middle. You wiggle backwards until your back is pressed, squashed against his chest.

…

…

“Din?”

…

…

“Yeah?”

…

…

…

“This okay?”

…

…

…

His hand creeps up your hip, splays across your stomach.

…

“Yeah.”

…

…

…

“Then loosen up.”

…

…

“I am loose.”

…

…

“Goodnight, Din.”

…

…

“Goodnight, Ka’r’ika.”

…………

………

……

…

…

Guns-for-days holy shit-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

masterlist / previous chapter / next chapter

taglist: (in the reblog)

a/n: Oooooh boy. With a chapter this long, there’s a LOT I could say! I am reaaaaallly nervous for this one hsjdhdhd. Feel free to ask me anything in the comments so I can address specific topics! For now, I’ll just say things such as Din’s reaction to Boba taking his helmet off, Fennec still be alive, etc. will be addressed next chapter. 

Chapter ten really came so easily yet so hard at the same time. I put a LOT of time and love into this fic... So, if you, too, find any sort of enjoyment from it, I’d love to hear about it! I have made so many kind friends through this story. I love hearing from you!

And heh, things be heating up in this chapter, hm??? 👀 Any thoughts/theories??

Anyway... I’m sure I’ll think of things later I’ll wish I’d said... but for now... I hope you enjoyed!!!

[ofherlionheart]

tbh if u answer all of the q's for the boo chronicles i would love 2 hear it!!! im obsessed and am making all my friends read it. but like no pressure

anon ilysm. im aiming for a reasonable bedtime so i won’t answer all the Qs i haven’t done yet but!! i will absolutely answer some b/c im so touched that you enjoyed the boo chronicles enough to hound your friends about it 💛

7. Where did the title come from?

i’ve already babbled abt the fic titles being inspired by song lyrics, but wanna know very specifically where the series title came from?

“Good night, boo.”

i wrote this without rly thinking abt it early in part one, but then i had z call s boo in the next scene and suddenly it became not just A Thing but The Thing

10. Why did you choose this pairing for this particular story?

boring honest answer is that this was all born out of @zukkaweek 2021. the maybe-more-interesting answer is that, unlike other pairings i’ve written for, i feel like zuko n sokka work together b/c of their v specific canon contexts, not some semi-inherent sense of fitting together. the way their plots and growth converge and diverge in atla is what makes them a compelling pairing to me, so when i wanted to do a modern au take on them, i felt like i had to build a very specific world and story that would still lend to them growing to suit each other, rather than taking two dudes and plopping them in a coffee shop (which, for the record, i still did anyway. lol)

13. What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story?

i didn’t listen to these artists/songs in order to ~get into the mood~, but this is what i was really into when i first began the series. was also going thru yet another mini identity crisis at the time so it’s not a coincidence that these are almost all AAPI artists

keshi – alternative/indie

AUDREY NUNA – r&b, rap

tobi lou (specifically Looped Up feat. VERNON) – hip-hop, rap

REI AMI (especially do it right feat. aminé) – anti-pop

hana vu – DIY

BTS

luke chiang – r&b, soul

brb. – r&b

14. Is there anything you wanted readers to learn from reading this fic?

not when i initially started/published it—i was writing it for me and just hoped some people might like it. now, though, that i have some distance? hmm. cultural and racial identity strongly inform character even if a narrative isn’t “about race.” one of the kindest things you can do for yourself is surround yourself with kind people. love is as much in the grace notes as in the symphonic swell. theory of the humanities high academia flavor is, all at once, so fun and such bullshit and so important. 

also, everyone, pls listen to AUDREY NUNA. ‘damn Right’ features the slant rhyme “i chew like i’m pika/achu like paprika,” her collabs w/ jack harlow, SABA, and haeil are incred, and then, on top of her rap game, she’s ALSO capable of whipping out vocals like ‘Time’ and ‘Space’??? im so fckn in love

ask me Qs abt fics!

[chaostheoryy]

King and Queen [Kylo Ren X Reader]

Summary: @kylo-is-my-baby requested “Kylo x reader where the reader is forced into an arranged marriage with him and ends up falling in Love?”

Word Count: 1,680

Rating: General

Notes: Why does everyone like arranged marriage fics? Kylo is a big, stubborn baby and you are a spunky princess who needs no man. What can I say, it’s a match made in heaven? Also, this may or may not be the most fun request I’ve written...

“I never agreed to this.”

“Neither did I.”

The two of you sat in awkward silence across from each other as you awaited the final negotiations between your father and Snoke’s council of officers. It seemed that, in exchange for trading rights and a peaceful inclusion into the First Order, your father had agreed to marry you off to one of the Order’s most desirable bachelor’s: the mighty Kylo Ren. You, of course, were not pleased. You were royalty, daughter of the great king and, once married to a proper suitor, soon-to-be queen of your nation. Not once, however, did you intend to be married against your will, especially to some First Order beast.

“If you touch me without permission,” you hissed, glaring at your counterpart with a blinding fury, “Hell, if you so much as look at me in a way I don’t like, I will kill you.”

Ren twitched, his fist clenching as he fought back his own rage and channeled some much needed patience. “Believe me, girl, I have no intention of putting my hands on you. The second this negotiation is over, you and I will go our separate ways and never have to see each other again.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

It’s no surprise, of course, that when your father demanded the two of you spend the night together in the wedding suite at the edge of the lake, you and Ren nearly exploded. It was a request neither of you could fight, especially when the Order needed to insure your father’s satisfaction with the marriage.

“I refuse to stay here any longer,” Ren said after nearly three hours of sitting in opposite corners of the bedroom and refusing to look at one another. By that point, the tension was so heavy you were both practically suffocating.

You jumped to your feet as he made for the door. “You can’t leave!”

He stopped at the door and looked over at you, brow furrowed with a mixture of confusion and irritation. “Why not?”

You sighed. “Our culture mandates that newly wedded couples spend the entire night together. Dusk until dawn. If you leave before the sun rises, the marriage is void, and the treaty will be broken.”

Ren clenched his fist and ground his teeth together. “So, what? We spend the next seven hours staring at the walls?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “We go to sleep.”

You traced Ren’s line of sight over to the bed. He immediately grimaced. “Well, I’m not sharing a bed with you.”

“Fine with me. I never asked you to. You can be a gentleman and sleep on the floor.”

“I’m no gentleman.”

“Really?” You replied sarcastically, “That’s hard to believe.”

The two of you glared at each other for a moment, silently attempting to will one another into giving in. To your pleasure, however, Ren didn’t last long at all.

“Fine,” he growled, “Take it.” He pushed past you, his cape ghosting against your forearm, and headed out to the balcony. You smiled and proudly marched over to lay down on the bed. The moment your head hit the pillow, you sighed. What a victory.

Still dressed in your formal wedding gear, you awoke a few hours later. You sat up and looked around the room and were surprised to find that Ren was nowhere to be seen. A panic overcame you. What if he had left? What if someone had seen him? What if this negotiation was all for nothing and the First Order destroyed your home planet out of vengeance for your neglect?

You bolted out of bed and looked in every corner until, sure enough, you found him on the balcony where you had last seen him. It appeared he had stubbornly fallen asleep on the marble ground, curled up in his cape as if it were a blanket. You were flooded with relief knowing he hadn’t run off. But you also felt something else. You felt...sympathy. The dumb man had all but banished himself to the balcony, almost punishing himself for something beyond his control. As much as you hated the idea of being forced to marry a man you barely knew, you certainly didn’t want it to be like this.

You looked up at the stars above and whispered a quiet prayer for forgiveness before kicking him in directly in the shin. Ren jerked awake, gazing up at you in a drowsy anger. “What the hell!”

You crossed your arms. “Get up, Ren.”

You scooted away from you in childish protest and wrapped his cape even tighter around himself. “Why don't you just climb back in that ridiculous bed and leave me alone,” he grumbled.

“God, you’re as dumb as you are stubborn,” you scoffed before leaning over and grabbing his upper arm firmly to yank at it, “Get. UP!”

He rose to his feet and glared down at you. “There. Are you happy?”

“Overjoyed,” you replied scathingly, “Now get inside before I push you off the balcony.”

This time he didn't argue.  With cold, narrowed eyes, he walked past you and into the bedroom. You followed him in, shutting the balcony door behind you to keep the brisk night air from seeping in.

“Get in the bed.”

Ren looked over at you as if you had just cursed him out in every language known to the galaxy. “I told you, I refuse to share a bed with you. You’re lucky I haven’t taken it upon myself to strike you down like a-”

“Oh my God, do you ever shut up?” You scoffed in disbelief, “Just be quiet and get in the damn bed so we can both sleep the rest of this stupid night away and happily go our separate ways in the morning!”

Ren clenched his jaw, eyes widening ever so slightly at your demanding tone. Then, without any further argument, he strolled over and collapsed on the bed. You took a deep breath. Finally.

You soon followed his lead and climbed into bed beside him, insuring that plenty of space was left between the two of you. The last thing either of you wanted was to communicate, let alone touch each other.

You woke the following morning to the warmth of the sunlight caressing your cheek. The familiarity of morning light on your home planet never failed to put a smile on your face. That smile, however, quickly faded when you heard a gentle moan and felt the tickle of Ren’s hot breath on the back of your neck. That’s when you noticed his arm draped over you. Your heart immediately made a break for it, leaping up into your throat and all but choking you. What in the hell? Why was Kylo Ren cuddling with you?

Another soft moan and your breath caught in your throat when his nose pressed against your skin. It was clear to you that he was fast asleep, no doubt dreaming about some former partner or dream lover. Either way, this was not what you signed up for -- hell, none of this was.

You tried to slip out from his grasp only to have him groan in protest and instinctively pull you closer to him. 

Suddenly, the door burst open, startling Ren right out of his sleep. Upon noticing his contact with you, he jerked back and pulled his arm from over you just as your father entered the room.

“Oh my apologies, darling,” he said softly, “I didn’t realize the two of you were still at rest.” You clenched your jaw as he took in the sight of you and Ren together with adoration. “I just wanted to tell you the breakfast is being served in the hall. There's even your favorite: nuna sausage.”

You forced a smile. “Sounds great. We’ll be out shortly.”

Your father bowed his head respectfully and took one last proud glance at you and your new husband before slipping out and shutting the door behind him. A moment of silence hung over the room before you struck Ren’s shoulder with the back of your hand. He flinched at the hit and gave you an offended look.

“I told you not to touch me without permission, laser brain,” you said sharply, “You’re lucky my father took it as a sign of genuine betrothal or I would have cut your hand off and fed it to the hounds.” You sighed and let your head fall back onto your pillow. You had to admit, you were glad your father saw you two like that. There would be no doubts in his mind about the arrangement.

“What if I had asked for permission?”

You furrowed your brow and looked at him in bewilderment. “I beg your pardon?”

To your surprise, his gaze was alarmingly soft. There appeared to be no anger left, only a strange sense of calm curiosity. “If I had asked for permission, what would you do?”

You propped yourself up on your elbows. “I-I don’t know. Why are you even asking me that?”

His eyes quickly scanned your face, silently reading you. “No reason,” he replied. He then stood up and adjusted his clothing. “Clean yourself up. I’m hungry.”

You stared at your counterpart, still dumbfounded by his sudden shift in attitude. “Last night you slept outside just to avoid being in the same room as me and now you want to get breakfast together?”

“It would be rude of the king to show up to his first meal without his queen,” Ren murmured, slyly throwing you a knowing glance. “Or is it a part of your culture for one to be insulting?”

You blinked. Was he cracking jokes now? 

You stood up, unable to keep an amused grin from tugging at the corner of your mouth. “No, but it is customary for the king to host a ball in the great hall in celebration of his marriage and gift his new queen with fifteen golden necklaces.”

Ren narrowed his eyes slightly. “No it isn’t.”

You smirked and took his arm, allowing him to lead you. “Try me, Ren.”

[detroitbydark]

You know who I thought of today? Hound and Nuna. Now I’m rereading their story. And I just wanted you to know that because I still adore them so much 🥰🥰🥰

[detroitbydark]

Omg i just read your Hound fic and it is fantastic! Same with chapter 10 of Soul Ties! I’ll probably die if Hound if ever finds out who Nuna is related too. You are doing amazing!!!!

That is one thing I absolutely cannot wait. Fox is going to shit himself when he finds out!

[detroitbydark]

Every Dog Has His Day

Characters: Hound/OC

Summary: Insecurities abound for Coruscant’s favorite late night DJ.

Warnings: None

A/N: So Hound is a golden retriever in clone armor and I would kill for him. All the love to my girls @skdubbs​ and @crimson-dxwn​ who deal with me while Ido this. 

-----

“Mister, can I pet your dog?”

Hound looks down at the small child squinting up at him; he’s got a gap where his front teeth should be and the ‘mister’ comes out more like a ‘mither’. The kids’ moms stand a pace behind him, one smiling brightly while the other glances nervously from Hound to Grizzer. 

“Is it ok with your folks?” He’d been to his fair share of PR in services since being transferred to Coruscant. He glances at both women. He receives a nod from the more laid back of the two.

“Grizzer, sheber.” The massiff throws his hind quarters down with such force that both he and the nervous mother laugh. Grizzer’s tail wags a mile a minute as he takes it upon himself to lay on his belly and crawl slowly toward the child.

“He’s a good boy as long as you're not a bad guy” Hound says squatting down. The little boy's eyes get wide as Hound tips his bucket forward, stage whispering. “You listen to your moms, right?”

The kid nods rapidly. Hound laughs, lets relief fill his voice. “Oh good, you should be safe then.”

 Grizzer eats up the attention, laying his big head in the child’s lap. Soon three other children join in. Hound talks to their parents, every now and then glancing at his partner. The massiff has turned from a well trained soldier to a glob of mush under the fawning of the children.

 This was just another part of the job. Public relations was a big deal. Clones got a bad rap. Every now and then, a few troopers on leave trying to drown bad memories of the war would get on the wrong side of the law and throw the whole damn clone army back two paces in the public opinion polls, and it was the job of troopers like Hound and the rest of the Guard go try to be poster boys for the rest of them. At times like this it wasn’t hard. 

“Hound. Time to break it up. I need you to do a sweep of the central pavilion.” Commander Fox’s voice rings clearly in his bucket.

“Roger that, Commander” he says before turning to address the small gathered group, “alright now, Grizzer and I have to be getting back to work.” A small chorus of ‘Awwws’ makes him chuckle.  The massiff looks at him as to say the same.

“Come on, buddy. Borarir.” Hound gives the command for work and Grizzer perks up, giving an excited yip as he darts to Hounds side in a tight heel. “Tell your new friends bye,” Hound encourages and Grizzer gives a loud woof that has all the kids -and a few of their parents- laughing.

Hound’s head goes on a swivel as soon as they turn away. “Time to get serious now,” he instructs the animal at his side. Grizz gives him a look. “I know. I know,” hound says, reaching down to pet his head, “you don’t need to be told twice.”

The massiff huffs and his nose falls to the duracrete. Fete weeks were always crazy and with the rise they’d been seeing in terrorist activities, Commander Fox had wanted everyone on high alert.

Since being transferred to Coruscant, Hound has grown to love the craziness of Fete weeks and while New Year Fete week was his favorite, he enjoyed the Festival of Life nearly as much. Someday he hoped to experience it as a spectator and not the security.  

They skirt along the perimeter of the pavilion, where a local band was warming up. The smell of fest food from the stand of carts across the way has both Hound and Grizzer aiming their noses toward the various booths of sweet fruits, spit roasted meats, and honeyed pastries.

“Let’s make one good pass and I’ll treat you to some nerf-“

Grizzer woofs quietly.

“Fine” Hound clarifies, “I’ll treat us to some nerf.”

Toward the end of their loop Hound comms an all-clear to his nearby colleagues.  He'd do another loop in an hour or so but for now he'd wait and watch. 

The band has started playing finally and Grizzer puts himself in a heel as the pair sit and listen for a spell. The different radio stations have booths set up, slinging merch and freebies at passing fete goers. Hound’s eyes scan looking for IRR’s booth. He doesn’t recognize the guy signing autographs, but he does remember the head of pastel purple hair fondly. 

“That’s her bud,” he says, glancing down quickly at the massiff at his side, “Told you she was real pretty, didn’t I?”

Grizzer scents the air in the direction of the IRR booth.

Nuna Skii is off to the side unpacking boxes of this and that and setting it out on the table for passers-by. 

“I should go say hi,” he says after a minute to psych himself up. He clicks his tongue lightly and Grizzer falls in at his side as he walks towards the tables. A holoboard has been set up with the names and times each personality will be signing autographs. Hound frowns when he scans the board and doesn’t see Nuna’s name listed. The others were ok, he guessed, but who would want anyone but Nuna Skii’s signature?

“Oh my maker! What a cute baby!” Hound glances up in time to see Nuna dip down onto her knees as Grizzer leans in and gives her a wet kiss. She giggles as the massiff leans his heavily armored body against her.

“Grizz!” he scolds, and the mas’ looks up at him with a pleased look on his muzzle. 

“Oh it’s you! Hound!” Nuna tries to stand but Grizzer places a meaty paw on her shoulder. She laughs as she rubs under his jaw. “This cutie belongs to you?”

“You could say that. We’re partners.”

Hound tries not to feel jealous as Grizzer's face is held between her small hands and she coos to him. “Big tough guard mas’. Such a sweet boy, aren’t you?” He'd give good credits right now to swap places.

“You really think he’s cute?” Hound asks as Grizzer finally lets her stand and lays down between the pair of them, head resting over one of Hound’s boots.

“What? Of course!” Her smile is bright and her deep brown eyes sparkle as she talks. “I mean, I guess there’s no accounting for taste. I had this great uncle who kept a strill named…” Nuna rubs the back of her head, “I haven’t thought about that in years,” she laughs, “I think he called it Mird? Anyway, I loved that little thing and let me tell you, Strill are certainly never going to be on the top of any list of traditionally beautiful creatures.”

Hound knows he’s staring, but she’s chattering on and he can’t help himself. When she mentions the name of the strill something pings in his memory banks but he can’t quite place it. Before he has a chance she asks him a question.

“I’m sorry,” he offers, “what was that again?”

“I was asking if you heard my shout out last week?” She’s glancing down toward Grizzer almost bashfully. When she looks back up she has her lower lip trapped between her teeth and a smile lighting up her features. Hound’s brain turns to mush. “I hope it wasn’t too much?”

Too much? He’d felt like the man for days afterwards. He’d gotten a shout out on Nuna Skii’s show and all his vode knew it. 

“No it was great. Thanks.” He tries to play it cool, like it hadn’t been the single greatest thing that had happened in the last standard rotation.

“Cool.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.” They look at each other silently for a moment before they both laugh awkwardly. Grizzer’s muzzle swings from one human toward the other, a wondering tilt to his head.

“So...uh… you’re not signing autographs later?” Hound gestures to the holoboard. Nuna waves him off.

“Oh, I don’t do the whole autograph thing. I like to keep the fantasy alive.”

He cocks his head curiously. In all honesty, he’d had more fantasies since he’d met her on the side of the skylane than he’d ever had before. It was one thing to think of his favorite voice in the galaxy as an unattainable holomodel, but to actually meet her and see that she was the cute girl next door. It added a whole new level to his personal time. Now he  thought less about long slender legs wrapped around his hips and more about gripping on to soft, warm thighs. Less about pristine make-up and perfect hair and more about the way he’d noticed her pale brown eyes crinkle at the corners as she smiled. 

And her voice. He imagined she’d use that on-air voice just for him. It made his toes curl in his boots just thinking about it.

“My fans have a certain image of me in their heads. I don’t want to ruin it.” 

He wants to tell her to shift it. The image she was throwing off now was absolutely grade A but he hesitates and the moment is gone.

“So, uh, do you like food?” He cringes as the words come out of his mouth, “I mean, I was gonna get a few nerf skewers.” He clenches his hand into a fist at his side so he doesn’t start rubbing the back of his helmet. There really was no reason his palms should be sweating like they were. “I could grab you one if you want or,” he shrugs, “you could walk over there with us, maybe.”

That same bashful smile lights her face as she glances at the booth around her and back over to the personality signing autographs.

“I mean, if you can’t, that’s ok too. I was just thinking.” Hound wants to kick himself. Any game he had was completely lost the second he’d started talking to her. “If you're busy, maybe I could just get your comm and we could do it another time.”

Grizzer whines at his feet.  Nuna looks down. “Aww is the poor guy starving?”

No, he wasn't, Hound thinks. The mooch had his rations and half of Hounds just an hour before. He was embarrassed for his master. 

“Yeah, that must be it.”

“Well we should get him something to eat, right Grizz?”

Under his bucket, Hound can’t fight the grin. Grizzer barks happily as he rises to his feet and stretches his spiny back into the air. “I guess that settles it. You, me, and the massiff makes three” he jokes lamely.

——

“You look smug?” Tully gives Nuna a questioning look. 

“I’m not smug.” Nuna hums along to the song playing in her headphones. “What’s the name of that band from Corellia? The one with the Nikto drummer?”

“Nunz, what’s with the smile?” Tully doesn’t answer her question.

“I think it’s something in Ryl-“

“Nuna!”

Nuna can’t fight the grin on her face. “Fine. I just had a good day is all.”

Tully looks unimpressed with her answer. “You spent all day slinging merch at a fete. It was hot. You didn’t sleep. You hate not sleeping. I’m going to ask you again-“

The thought of telling her friend and coworker about Hound had crossed Nuna’s mind, but she’d quickly pushed it away. It had just been a fun little distraction from an otherwise boring day. Nothing much else to say about it. They’d both been working and decided to share lunch together. He had a cute partner and, really, had she been expected not to snuggle with a cuddly mas’ when given the opportunity? The look on Tully’s face says she’s not going to give up. Nuna throws her a bone.

“I maybe had lunch with someone today but it was nothing. Really. I mean it was just a guy being super nice.” The words spill from her mouth like bolts from a repeating blaster. Tully stares for a second, then two.

“You had a date? At the fete? While you were working?”

“What? No! Absolutely not. I took my lunch break and had company, that's all.” 

The Pantoran crosses her arms over her chest and tips her chin before glancing up at her friend. “Who paid?”

Uh-uh. They were not going there. “It was not a date, Tull.” She did not date that was strictly a thing of the distant past- light years ago, even.

“Who paid?” Tully asks again, undeterred.

“I-“

“He paid! Maker, girl! You had a date! Who is he? Why didn’t you mention him before? I mean, I thought we were friends. Spill!”

Thankfully, Nuna finds herself saved by the chrono. The commercial break is ending as she turns away from the steady gaze of her friend.

“We’re not done talking about this,” Tully warns as Nuna mashes the button to her mic. 

“Nuna Skii getting you through the night. You know what’s better than a boy in blue?” The switch in persona is instant, years of practice allowing her to skip into sexy DJ mode without thought, “The answer is absolutely nothing. That last one was going out to the boys of the 501st. May your aim be true and your stims be strong.”

“I know I saw some of you lovelies enjoying the Festival of Life today. Why don’t you give me a call and tell me what you thought? I am oh so lonely tonight. Wanna keep me company?” She pitches her voice low. Tully rolls her eyes. The comm lines light up. The producer signals for line 2 with a quick flash of her hand.

“Nuna,” the first call starts, “we’re with the 234th and we’re your biggest fans!” There’s the sound of whooping in the background.

“You are too sweet,” Nuna coos, “anything I can play for you?”

“Uhh… something durasteel?”

“I got you, handsome. Thanks for listening!”

Nuna starts hunting down the next song as she switches callers to the next line Tully’s vetted. 

“This is Nuna,” she purrs in greeting.

“Nuna? This is Sergeant Sinker with the 116th Wolffe Pack.” 

“Well a-woo to you Sergeant Sinker. Were you home for fete week?”

Voices rise up in the background. Nuna stifles a giggle as she hears her caller yelling at a Boost and a Comet. 

“We’re still off world. We just wanted to say we love your show and see if you could give our Commander a shoutout?”

“Well isn’t that the absolute sweetest? I think you've called in before, right? You know, I always have love for the 116th and that very surly Commander Wolffe of yours-“

“Nuna Marry me!” The voice sounds far away and is followed by the sound that she can only assume is wrestling for the comm before it clicks off.

“I’m not accepting any proposals today darlings. Why don’t we listen to that request and a quick commercial break?”

Nuna wonders if Hound is listening. She’s surprised that she hopes he is.

“So spill it, girl.” Tully doesn’t waste time as the music starts playing and the mic cuts off. Nuna sighs. Apparently she wasn’t going to forget so quickly.

“He paid,” she admits, trying to ignore the smugness she hears in Tully’s voice.

“So you had a date. Was that so hard to admit?”

Nuna still refuses to call it a date because she hadn’t dated in ages and a pretty smile and a flashy set of armor and kama weren’t about to change that. She scrolls through a datapad playlist but she can feel her friends' eyes boring into her.

“You know you're allowed to put yourself out there. Most of them are fekking disgusting but there’s a few good ones.” Tully’s voice softens. “They’re not all him.”

This conversation was not happening now and certainly not without a bottle of wine. She was not going to think about Alistar again. His days of living rent free in her head were over. Except… they weren’t.

 She’d loved having lunch with Hound and Grizzer - it had been the highlight of her week so far- but each time he’d complimented her, each time he’d asked questions like he was interested and wanted to know, she thought of her ex and the way he’d weaseled his way into her life with all the same ploys. It didn’t matter that they looked nothing alike, sounded nothing alike. She was officially damaged goods and there was just no getting past that, at least not anytime soon.

When Nuna doesn’t acknowledge her, Tully turns to screening calls versus dealing with her moody DJ. Nuna listens to the screaming durasteel coming through her headphones. I wasn’t her genre of choice but a lot of battalions seemed to have a thing for it. Who was she to argue? 

“Nunz?” 

Nuna looks up to find Tully staring. “What?”

“You got a call?”

“One I should take on air?”

Tully’s brows skim her forehead. “Oh yeah. This one’s a doozy.”

Shaking her head, Nuna moves back to the mic, counting down to the end of the song. “Live in 3… 2… 1…. hey ladies and gents I’m back. How was that for some durasteel huh? Hope it keeps your engines revved and juices flowing. Going to the comm lines we’ve got a call from…” Nuna watches Tully mouth the name. “Grizzer?”

A series of barks erupts through Nuna’s ear phones before she can respond. Tully is disintegrating into laughter as Nuna stares wide-eyed at the mic ahead of her. 

“Grizzer said he was glad he got to spend time with you today,” a smooth voice begins when the barking ends.

Nuna stumbles for a second but catches herself. “Is this- this his translator?” She teases, trying to stay in character.

“Yes, ma’am.” Hound’s warm voice rumbles through the comm and Nuna has the distinct feeling of butterflies fluttering around in her chest.

The line goes quiet for half a second and another volley of barks and a single yip respond.

“He’d like to see you again soon. He thinks you're the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. Wants to take you out for dinner. Promises he’ll bring his chaperone with him.”

Nuna catches Tully’s eye. “Can you believe this guy?” she mouths.

“Is that him?!” The pink-haired Pantoran hisses.

Nuna shakes her hands in front of her face, as if waving away her nerves.

“Is that so?” Her mind is working overtime. In the two years she’s been on air in Coruscant she’s fielded a lot of requests for dates and more than a few marriage proposals, but this is the first of its kind. She’s not really sure how to respond. 

She flirts five nights a week on her show but those are faceless -often nameless- people. She’s met Hound. She’s been dazzled by his earnest smile, felt compelled to answer every silly getting to know you question he’d thrown her way this afternoon. Hound was different because he seemed to want to get to know her - short, round, plain Nuna. 

He couldn’t be for real.

“I hate to break it to you Grizzer,” she can hear the massiff panting over the comm, “but I only date men with thumbs and a nice head of hair.”

Tully gives her a hard look. Yeah, she was going to hear about this later.

“Oh, well.” She can hear the sudden uncertainty in Hound's voice and a soft whine from the massiff. “I suppose he’ll catch you around then.”

She wants to tell him that she certainly hopes so because deep down she does, but it doesn’t fit with her persona. Instead she cuts the line and moves on with the show.

She’d gotten good at that. Slam those emotions deep down, lock ‘em up and throw that key away. No one could hurt you if they couldn’t get to you.

“So, anyone following the Limmie League?”

[detroitbydark]

Chapter 4

Characters: Hound/Nuna (OC) , Ryk (Clone OC), Tully (OC)

Warnings: Not a one!

A/N: went back and forth on wether this chapter would be sweet or spicy. In the end I’m happy with the direction I chose because these two are absolutely cinnamon rolls and I love them.

———

“So…uh, that guy? He seemed like kind of a sleen, right?” Oh Fett. He was saying the wrong thing wasn’t he? He was going to blow this whole thing to the Outer Rim and-

Nuna laughs. Not just a soft feminine laugh but one that builds and bubbles up from deep inside her. It’s a laugh that leaves her cheeks adorably pink and her chest heaving to pull in breaths.

“A sleen? Maker! That is literally the best thing I’ve ever heard. Yes, absolutely!” She yells over the music as one song shifts seamlessly to the next. The bass pumps in his chest like a second heartbeat. Hound glances over his shoulder to see Ryk and Rule in conversation with Nuna’s friend, also apparently his new friend, Tully. The Pantoran gives him a wink when she catches his eye and he turns back to Nuna quickly.

“Do you wanna drink?” She beats him to the punch. “I feel like after that rescue mission I probably owe you. Also, this song?” She looks up as if the music were an actual entity hovering above them. “I love it.”

Kriff. He was supposed to be the one getting her a drink. Right? He never realized how utterly useless at this he was. No wonder Mouse never gave him the time of day.

That wasn't exactly fair though, was it? Looking back now, Hound can see that his failure had nothing to do with him being himself and everything to do with him not being Commander Fox.

Mouse had eyes for the Commander before she probably even realized it. When it came down to it, the Commander was happy and that made it easier on them all. Al’verde deserved something nice, good, and all his own.

They all did.

“I guess that would be nice, but I don’t want you feeling like you have to because you don’t.”

Nuna rolls her eyes dramatically. “My treat. You can get the next one. Sound like a plan?”

The next one. He liked that idea. He gives her an affirmative nod and her bright smile lights up the darkened club. His chest squeezes uncomfortably and he takes just a moment to wonder what the kriff was going on but then he’s watching her side step through the crowd and he wonders if he shouldn’t have gone with her.

Tully joins him as the pair watch her finally get to the bar.

”Took ages to get her to realize she didn’t look like the wrong end of a Hutt,” Tully offers.

“Huh?” He glances at her out of the corner of his eye.

“After things went sideways with Alistar and let me tell you they went sideways.” She emphasizes the syllables on the last words as she clarifies.

Hound doesn’t press even though he wants to know. Instead he chooses the next question on his mind.

“Which end is the wrong one?”

“Take your pick.”

He can’t help the grin that crosses his face as he looks over at the Pantoran. She’s grinning back.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because she won’t and she deserves better than the likes of him and his kind of scum. You seem like a good guy.”

Hound rubs at the back of his neck. He wasn’t used to compliments outside of the backhanded one he and his vode threw about jokingly. ‘Good guy’ seems like a big deal coming from Tully.

“I try?”

Tully laughs. “No you don’t. It shows when someone is trying. You’re a natural.” Maybe she can sense he’s about to argue because she gives him a serious look. “Deal with it trooper.”

Something about the way she says it tickles him. A bark of laughter rises up in his chest and spills out. “Ok, yeah, roger that Commander.”

“Who’s the Commander now?” Ryk is pressing between the pair, an arm coming to rest on each of their shoulders. Rule is talking up a pretty green twi’lek and in a world of his own a few steps behind them.

“I’m the Commander, pretty boy,” she hums, tapping the younger Sargeant’s nose with a finger.

Ryk turns to Hound with wide, slightly drunk eyes as Nuna slides back up to the group. She hands Hound his drink.

“Did you hear that, Hound dog? I’m pretty.” His head snaps back to Tully.

“You think I’m pretty?”

The smile that fills the Pantorans face is almost feral. “I can think of a few ways you’d be prettier.” The way her eyes trace over his face is unmistakable and Hound hides a cough in his drink. It’s like watching some fragged up mating dance.

“Can you get your hands on some cuffs?” Tully asks sweetly.

Ryk’s jaw nearly hits the liquor sticky floor. “Stasis cuffs? So fast it would make your head spin, beautiful.”

Hound watches the pair, head snapping back and forth. Nuna leans against his side and rises to her toes. She rocks idly to the sound of the music as if it was second nature for her body to find a beat and follow it.

“Do you think he realizes that she would eat him alive?”

“I think he’s kind of into that.”

Ryk was into that. No question about it. It just wasn’t Hounds place to say.

They all had their own proclivities (except for maybe Thire). Ryk just chose to wave his freak flag a little bit harder than the rest.

Nuna chokes off a laugh and takes a drink. Tully, long legged and stunning, was absolutely a hunter on the prowl and tonight 79’s was her natural habitat.

Hound hasn’t seen Ryk so keyed up in ages.

“Good for him,” Nuna says after a long drink, “If she has her way, neither of them will walk straight for a week.” There’s a wistful tone to her voice that throws his mind into immediate overdrive.

He nearly swallows his tongue as he looks down at her. He was used to pretty frank locker room talk. Even shinies who’d only just seen their first woman getting off the transport in the Triple Zero had “stories” to tell.

There was nothing new or fascinating about talking sex. Except… he hadn’t realized that girls - women - could and would talk about it just as openly. The fact that the one he was feeling all google-eyed for was the one doing it made a heat rise up in his cheeks - and then sink low in his belly.

Nuna offers him a sweet smile, completely oblivious to what she was doing to him.

“So do you like to dance?”

Wait a minute she was just talking about- how could she just move past that-

“Uhh, not really. I mean- I really never have. I’m more of a wall holder-upper,” he offers as the DJ of the night begins to morph one song to the next.

“Oh…” she glances at the dance floor, “because I really love this song.”

“I feel like you’ve loved every song you’ve heard,” he teases. Her smile is bashful as she shrugs.

“Occupational hazard?”

“If you want to dance don’t let me stop you. I can hold your drink.” He offers as Nuna bites at her lower lip glancing between him and the pair of Tully and Ryk.

“Ok then... but you can join me if you get bored.”

“Noted,” he says with a laugh as she grabs onto her friend's arm. Ryk pouts as the pretty pink Pantoran blows him a kiss and stumbles to catch up with Nuna’s insistent pull.

”Do you think she’d step on me if I asked really nice?”

Hound’s head whips to the side and the toothy grin of Ryk standing next to him.

“What?!”

“Tully vod, keep up. I would lick that woman’s boots if she told me to.”

“You are a freak. Certifiable,” Hound laughs shaking his head.

The troopers watch silently. Hound sips at his drink and holds Nuna’s safely in the opposite hand. The girls dance close, smiling and laughing as the beat drops. Tully’s hand wraps around the back of Nuna’s waist and holds her close.

It reminds Hound of the affection batted around by his brothers. A playful, physical grounding touch that told a vod that they were cared for. Usually for him it was a sparring match or a quick bit of boxing but for the two women they watched dancing seemed to do the trick.

“While I do find watching can be rewarding in its own right” Ryk says nodding lazily toward Nuna and Tully. “I think participating would be much more rewarding”

Hound grunts as he watches. Nuna’s hips swirl and roll with the beat of the music. It’s kriffing mesmerizing and he can think of nothing better than having his hands on them as they move in tight little circles and figure eights.

“I don’t dance… at least not like that.”

Ryk laughs, “Vod! It’s flash training! If you can’t pick up a simple dance you are a failure as an ARF trooper.”

Just the accusation makes Hound bristle. He’d done far more difficult things during advanced recon training. It was just dancing. It wasn’t that intimidating.

Except he was feeling very intimidated.

Ryk runs a hand over his face before slinging an arm around Hound’s shoulders.

“Listen, you can choose to stay here, but if you do I can guarantee at least one of those shinies over there is going to do it for you.”

Hound's eyes follow Ryk’s line of sight to the group of shines off to their opposite side. Their heads are close together but their eyes are on Tully and Nuna. Watching their mouths, Hound can make out every third or fourth word and he’s not impressed.

Ryk doesn’t let his brother's indecision stop him. Hound watches with frustration as the other trooper makes his way to the two girls and slots in behind Tully. She gives him an appraising look before she relaxes back into his grip. Nuna steps back. While she’s still with the pair she’s definitely on her own. It doesn’t seem to bother her though. She really did seem to enjoy being out there.

Hound glances back to the shinies. One of them is bouncing on his toes while the ones on each side slap at his armor hyping him up.

Uh no. Not happening punk.

It was the sense of pride alone that finally gives him enough courage to move away from their table. He downs both the remainder of his drink and hers as he goes, setting the empties on a passing tray.

Nuna catches him in the flashing lights just as he reaches her. She doesn’t quit moving and he finds it even more distracting up close.

“The wall ok to hold itself up?”

“Yeah, I guess…” he lets out a rough breath.

Flash training, he reminds himself. This was no different than the rapid learning expected of them on Kamino. There wasn’t even any live fire to deal with. He could do this. A warm tingling ignites in his belly as the pair of drinks slosh around.

“I have no clue what I’m doing,” he admits. Nuna offers a soft smile.

“I can help.”

She’s in his space in the blink of an eye, already pressing In close enough where he can feel her body heat through his armor. Her arms move around his neck and he relaxes down just a little to make it more comfortable for them both.

Tully and Ryk are in their own little world just feet away. Hound can see the way his vods fingers flex on her hips. Tully has her head resting back on Ryk’s shoulder and her mouth turned in toward his neck. She’s whispering things that have both of them heavy lidded. Their bodies move together in a precursor of what was probably to come later.

“Hot, right?” Nuna asks looking up with bright mischievous eyes.

Hound is too dumbfounded to speak. She laughs at his silent nod, reaching up and ruffling his hair. She’s less shy now then she’d been earlier, more relaxed and less guarded.

“We’ll get you there.”

Hound stumbles through the next few minutes as she instructs him on the quick-quick-slow steps the music called for. His hands rest high in her waist. It’s frustrating and he knows his nerves are making it worse. Ryk’s chuckle from behind doesn’t do a thing to help.

“Easy on her toes trooper!”

Hound turns his head to bark something at his brother but Nuna’s hand grips his jaw and turns it back to her.

“Be a good boy and pay attention-“ she winces as he steps on her foot, “to me.”

If he wasn’t so embarrassed, he may have noticed how funny it was to have such an unintimidating creature ordering him around but his cheeks are hot and he’s mentally berating himself.

“Hound?” She dips a little lower to catch his eyes that are busy following their feet. “Look at me, not my feet.” She beams when he does as she’s asked and he finds he gets a little lost in the pale blue of her eyes and the way her dark lashes fan across her cheeks each time she blinks.

“That’s much better,” she praises. Her hands slip down over his and press them lower. His pinkies span over the top of the round ass he’s been admiring the better part of the night, while the others rest around her hips.

“You’ll be able to feel me better like this.”

Yeah, he could certainly feel a lot of her this way. No doubt about that. The music slows and transitions to the next song and Nuna makes a sound of approval. The beat is more sedate and the lyrics, though in a language he’s not familiar with, have a sensuality to them that is unmistakable. Nuna’s boot taps at his own.

“Wider stance,” she orders, nodding to herself when he complies. Hound watches as she steps closer, nearly straddling one of his slightly bent legs. His focus is honed in like a laser as she twists her hips slowly. He can feel the bunch and release of muscles in his hands and tries to mimic and mirror what she’s doing, adding the steps tentatively.

Her voice comes out as a purr. “That’s so much better already.”

Her hand slips behind his head and pulls him close til his forehead is pressed to hers. “Now stop thinking and just go with it.”

It’s a novel way to learn something, but it works. Like any other flash training he’s completed something suddenly clicks. The steps become second nature the movements of his own pelvis against hers become smoother.

“You're a good teacher. Has anyone told you that?”

Nuna looks away, hiding a blossom of pink high on her cheeks. It’s Hound’s turn to take control. Fingers trail up her back and tangle in her hair, turning her face back to him.

“You need to learn to take a compliment, Mesh’la.”

Her eyes go wide. Glitter strategically placed on her face catches the flashing lights and sparkles.

“I’m not- I’m not beautiful,” she stutters out, her body falling off rhythm for a second before he takes the lead and guides her back to it.

Couples press in around them, the temperature rising steadily. Hound barely notes it in shock of his own. It doesn’t even register that she’s translated the sweet endearment- a tactic troopers had learned would win women over in a heartbeat. He’s more awestruck that she didn’t see how amazing she was. Not just pretty - though he felt the term fit perfectly.

“Of course you are and fun and nice and-“ her finger presses to his lips stopping anymore words from slipping from his mouth.

“You’re embarrassing me,” she whines playfully, trying to lean back. Hound reels her back in.

“These are things you should hear all the time.” Alcohol and a little bit of confidence from picking up a new skill leaves him feeling a little bolder then he’s been.

“Well that’s definitely one opinion.”

Hound leans in close, nosing next to her ear as her body rolls against his. Her shampoo smells like candy, like something he’d crave time and again after having it. “I think it’s a pretty important one.”

Nuna sighs dreamily, wrapping one leg behind his. His hand drops down to her thigh, feeling where the fabric of her skirt rode up. “So it would seem. Hound-“

He gives her thigh a gentle squeeze. The feel of her so close is more intoxicating than the boozy drinks she’d brought them.

Her voice isn’t any higher than a gentle whisper but this close he can hear desire lacing it. He wasn’t the most experienced of all his vode but he’d certainly had a few… educational ones and what he lacked in experience he had the likes of Ryk and Rule to make up for in reconnaissance.

It’s hard to imagine things not going further with the way she presses against him. The mental images become that much more clear when he releases her leg and she turns in his grip, leaning back against his chest the way he’d seen Tully and Ryk earlier. The way her round ass presses against him makes him both despise and thank the codpiece of his armor. It’s gotten uncomfortably tight, but it was still doing wonders to hide that fact.

One of Nuna’s hands slides up and around the back of his neck and he lets his own trail from her wrist on down her arm before finding its home on her hip. Tiny goosebumps breakout along the trail his fingers leave. When her body rolls next, his stays locked with hers. She tips her head back and glances up at him.

He’s going to lean in and kiss her. With her head upside down. In the middle of a crowded dance floor. Where everyone can see.

The Maker must take pity on him because that’s no way to kiss a girl for the first time and certainly not how he wanted the first of (hopefully) many to go. The song cuts out just as his nose brushes against hers and a soft puff of her breath tickles over his chin. She smells sweet and the honeyed candy scent sticks with him as she pulls away. He wants to know what her mouth tastes like, what her skin tastes like, what her-

“Not bad for your first time,” she hums with big blown pupils as she turns and presses her hands into his chest.

“I’ll take your word on it.”

“Nunz?” Tully slides behind Nuna, bending to rest her chin on the shorter woman’s shoulder. “Imma drag this one down to the arcade a level down.” She glances back at Ryk who is smiling like the Tooka who ate the Tik-Tak.

“He says he’s got excellent aim and there’s a stuffed wampa I want. You two wanna come?”

It feels like Tully is asking a different question but Hound isn’t sure how to decipher it. Ryk looks smug, like he already knows the correct answer.

Nuna’s pale blue eyes flash to him for a split second. “I think I’m getting tired. I’ll probably head home in the not so distant future.”

Hound’s heart sinks. Time was not something he had a lot of extra sitting around. He wanted to spend it with her. He’s feeling the creeping of disappointment when he catches Tully’s smile lengthening from ear to ear.

“Hound? You wouldn’t mind seeing her home, right? I’d feel so much better knowing she wasn’t by herself after that run in earlier.”

——-

Nuna hadn’t foreseen this, sitting in the backseat of a speeder taxi pressed against the far door with Hound next to her and a pair of strangers sucking face next to him.

He lets out an irritated puff, the sound coming out augmented through his bucket, as the Rodian and Twi’lek to his right continue to go at it.

“They’re really… enjoying themselves, huh?”

The sound he makes has more humor in it. “Yeah, I wasn’t familiar with Rodian mating habits, but it didn’t mean I needed a crash course.” Hound jerks forward, his bucket coming within centimeters of her own head as she snickers. If looks could kill, she’s sure the one he shoots over his shoulder at the unaware couple would have them both in an early grave.

“Just ignore them.” She offers.

“Yeah? How do I do that?.”

Nuna bites at her lip trying to hold back a smile. “Pay more attention to me.”

The way his helmet quirks, to the side and just a little back, is comical.

It’s another one of those things she’s finding she really does like about Hound. He made her smile. Not even just smile. He made her laugh like she hadn’t in ages and not the sexy girly giggle. No, these were full on belly laughs that made the abs, hidden deep down under a layer of fluff, ache.

The game Tully had been playing hadn’t been subtle and Nuna loved her for it. She hadn’t wanted the night to end after a drink and some dancing. She wanted more. It was exhilarating and nerve wracking in the best possible way. It left her tummy full of butterflies. It had been a let down when the other couple had piled into the taxi behind them. It only got worse when the noises had started.

Nuna wonders, not for the first time, if Hound was blushing as hard under his helmet as she was sitting next to him.

“More attention?” There’s a distinct humor in his voice. The sound of it is warm and inviting. “Maybe something like this?”

Nuna feels the soft nudge of his gloved hand against her own fist balled at her side. She wills her nervous fingers to relax. The second they do Hound is slipping and twining his in between them.

Did all clones radiate so much heat? Nuna can feel the burn of his skin through the thick tactical gloves he wore. Was he warm like that all over? The thought makes her cheeks burn.

“I think that’s a good start,” she murmurs, glancing down at their interlocked hands and avoiding his eyes.

“Looking at me would make it better,” he says quietly, nudging her chin up with his free hand.

It takes a deep breath and another minute of thought before Nuna has it in her to look. His helmet is cocked just slightly to the side and she can imagine him smiling underneath it, all toothy and smug.

“I’m looking now.”

“Looking beautiful.”

A laugh sputters past her lips despite his earnest tone. How was she even supposed to respond to that? He was legitimately being serious and she’s almost afraid to look in the mirror because the person he was seeing really couldn’t be the same one she saw staring back at her everyday. So, instead of thinking harder on it or, you know, accepting the compliment, she does what she’s always done best - deflect.

“Do you wanna maybe come up for some caf?”

“That sounds really good.”

And it was really as easy as that.

The amorous pair next them finds the ability to separate for long enough to give the cabbie notice of their building. It’s a relief to be free of them. Hound moves allowing them more room but his hand doesn’t leave hers. He uses it to bring her along with him, moving her away from the door but allowing no real distance between them. Nuna approves, leaning her head against his armored shoulder as the taxi dips back into the sky lanes.

“That can’t be comfortable”

“It’s not so bad,” she manages, trying to stifle a yawn, “I’ve had worse.”

“I’m aiming for best here Mesh’la.” Not only can she hear his warm voice but she can hear it rumble through his body. Paired with the soft circles his thumb is making in the back of her hand Nuna feels the first traitorous pulls of sleep begin to take hold.

“M’not beautiful,” she hums without any real fight to it.

“Y’are too.” He mimics her speech pattern and Nuna laughs quietly.

“I’m not gonna be able to fight you on this, am I?”

He surprises her when he turns his head and rests his helmet for just a second against the mess of hair he can reach. “You can try. I’m always up for a challenge.”

She should come up with something sassy or witty to say but she’s literally lost for words. Her mind is a perfect blank. So instead she snuggles into plastoid and enjoys the attention.

It’s only another few minutes before the taxi speeder is pulling up to her landing platform and the pair are stepping out. Nuna slips her hand from Hounds long enough to hand a few credits to the driver.

When she turns back to him, Hound is giving her a bewildered look or what she assumes to be bewildered behind the dark visor of his bucket.

“This isn’t the building you had me drop you off at the day we met.”

“Oh… oh! Yeah. That?” Nuna offers him a shy smile. “We don’t let strange men know where we live.”

“We?” If anything, the bewilderment only seems to intensify.

“Women silly,” she pauses as he reaches up to pop the seal on his helmet. She most assuredly does not ogle him as he pulls it off and tucks it under his arm. Her heart definitely doesn’t start beating double time when he runs a hair through the messy strip of hair atop his head and shoots her a sweet smile, waiting for her to continue.

Stars, she was in trouble with this one.

“I guess you really don’t know? You gotta play it safe. Stranger danger and all that? Anything ringing any bells?”

Hound shrugs, good-natured smile firmly in place. “I don’t think I’ve ever had to worry about the dangerous sort. Unless…” his voice turns teasing as he reaches for her hands. “Ms. Skii, do you have anything unsavory planned for me?”

Nuna doesn’t resist when he laces their fingers and draws her in.

“Do I look dangerous to you?”

“You have no idea how dangerous you really are,” he says softly, tipping his head toward her.

Nuna tips her chin up, rises to meet him. Her eyes flutter shut at the warm breath so close that it tickles her lips. Alas, what she assumes to be the best first kiss of her life is thwarted by the blare of a speeders horn.

Because they were still on the platform.

Jumping back she shoots the driver a look that she hoped spoke volumes. She thinks maybe it’s the arms crossed over her chest that has the driver suddenly gesturing in apology but a glance over her shoulder shows an extremely unhappy clone trooper. Her look hadn’t killed, but a few more seconds and maiming was possible from Hound’s

Nuna nearly laughs before latching onto his arm and pulling him into the building and toward the turbo lift. It’s cute because he comes along without any real trying on her part and by the time the lift is in motion, the mean mug has melted back into a grin.

The nerves don’t hit until the lift has stopped. She hasn’t brought a man to this apartment. Ever.

After Alistar she’d made a promise to herself of a fresh start and Tully had said there were openings in her building and the price was right and then natural lighting was to die for and-

It’s been two years since she’s brought a man home and the thought is suddenly terrifying as she leads the way down the hall. Hound is pressed in close. One short step and he’d crash into her back. She wasn’t ready for this. As much as she thought she was, as much as she thought she could bring him home and fool around and do all the fun, reckless things that any single woman her age would be up for doing with such a fine specimen of a man has her bordering on panic with each step she takes.

By the time she’s reaching for the keypad her hand is trembling enough that Hound notices.

“Is something wrong?” Everything about his presence is warm, from the heat he radiates to the rich deep timbre of his voice. It should be perfect, but Nuna just can’t shake her nerves.

“No- I mean. I’ve never brought someone home before for… you know…” She flinches as she turns around and presses her back to the door.

Hound’s brows furrow together before he softens, “For caf? I mean, it’s not a big deal. You don’t have to go through the trouble. I’m fine with tea.”

Nuna lets out a shaky laugh, “You nerfherder! You know what I meant-“

“I did- I do and I want you to know I didn’t come here expecting anything from you. I just wanted to spend some more time with you and, if it makes you more comfortable, I’ll say goodnight right now.”

“You're serious?” Nuna asks after a moment's pause, “I mean you’re not going to hit hyperspace trying to get away from me if I don’t want to sleep with you?”

The look of offense that darkens his features is instant. “Listen, I don’t know what kind of guy you think I am, but” he takes a deep breath and runs a hand over his face. His voice gentles, “I like you. I get it. There’s been some scum in your past and I don’t know what you had to go through but know this. I’m not him.”

“Hound, I’m sorry.” He holds his hand up.

“All I ask is that, whether it’s today or tomorrow are a standard month from now, you give me a chance.”

“My turn to be honest,” she says quietly “I’m out of caf but if you still want to I’ve got a comfy couch and a few bottles of ne’tra gal chilled. We can watch something on the Holonet?”

“Ne’tra gal. Like real Mandalorian Ne’tra gal?”

Nuna shrugs as she half turns to finish punching in the access code. The door slides open and the pair enter.

“Yeah, I get it from Ordo’s. Near little Corellia?”

———

Hound feels like he’s gotta be the luckiest trooper that’s this side of wild space. He’s got a bottle of sweet Mandalorian ale in one hand and the other gently stroking the hair of the prettiest girl he's ever met. Nuna looks up at him and gives him a small smile as the next round of commercials start up.

“What?” He takes another quick pull of his Ne’tra gal.

“Just remembering that I’d been about to kiss you earlier.”

“Yeah. Shame that speeder pulled up and ruined it.” He sets the near empty bottle on the end table. Nuna’s eyes flash mischievously. He’d been really worried when they’d gotten to her door earlier that she was going to send him packing immediately. It’s not like he wouldn’t have left the second she said goodnight but he’d hoped, and the Maker had seen fit to give him a small blessing.

They’d been watching and laughing over Holocomedies for over an hour when she’d tucked in close, wiggling slowly up under his arm. She felt right against him, even through the armor he’d refused to shed. If she was nervous just to have him there, he wasn’t about to do anything to encourage further anxiety. The armor stayed on even though the thought of feeling her pressed against his actual flesh and blood body made him a little dizzy.

“Hound?” She cranes her neck up to look at him.

He hums quietly, fingers ghosting over and through her hair. He’s struck again by how soft everything about her was. He wasn’t used to soft. Not on Kamino and not here on Coruscant. Even Grizzer, though he wasn’t complaining, came with a rough and tough hide.

“Yeah?” She squirms out from under his arm and turns on her knees facing him.

“If I asked you to kiss me, would you?”

“Is this you asking, Mesh’la?”

By Fett and the Maker he hoped this was her asking. Nuna’s chin bobs up and down and she bites back a grin.

He can’t deny one of his own as he leans in slowly.

Her lips are soft as his fall against hers, a test run as his hand cradles the back of her head. She’s soft like flowers though he’s never had much experience with flowers. He should bring her flowers. Something just as special as she is, maybe those little ones he’s seen that smell like summer rain and sunshine.

Nuna sighs softly and Hound opens his eyes to see hers still shut and a pink flush creeping into her round cheeks.

He pecks her again. And again.

Soft feather light brushes that draw more soft sighs from her each time he pulls away. Innocent, teasing brushes of his mouth against hers that have a tension drawing tight in his belly.

When he does finally pull away it takes a moment to realize the trembling he’s feeling is coming from his own hands.

Nuna’s pale eyes flutter open and he’s trapped. A shy smile is tucked away at the corner of her mouth.

“Again please?”

Yeah, he really was the luckiest son of a rancor this side of wild space.

[detroitbydark]

Characters: Hound/OC

Summary: when life (or Thire) gets him traffic duty, Hound makes the most of it.

Warnings: None

A/N: I shouldn’t be starting a new work. I really shouldn’t. I also shouldn’t have decided to write a oneshot, talked to @skdubbs and have four chapters plotted out.

This does take place in the Fox and Mouse verse (around chapter 6 if I remeber correctly).

————

“From Kessel to Kijimi, this is Nuna Skii flying you through the dark hours of the night. I’d like to give a shout to-.”

Hound hunches forward over the handle bars to the GAR issued speeder. Traffic Ops. Kriff.

It would teach him to make a bet with Thire. Then again, how was he to know that the Commander actually had it in him to bag the cute little secretary that took up guard duty outside of his office door.

Obviously not Hound.

The ARF Sargent sighs before turning the radio up. He’d rather be back in his barracks with his massiff at his feet than clocking for speeders and traffic violations. It wasn’t that it was below him it was just… well it was below him. He didn’t go through recon school to be looking for our of date tags.

At least he got to listen to his favorite radio show.

“-and more of that sweet jizz music coming from Dantooine as a special favor to my boys in the 332nd”

Nuna Skii’s show on Independent Republic Radio was a favorite of many a trooper. Overnights were osik but the sweet smoky sound of her voice and the frequent shoutouts - often laced with innuendo - were definitely one way to pass the time. And if her voice was stored in the spank banks of half the troopers in the GAR? Well, that was just an added bonus to her show.

“Just you, me and an empty sky lane tonight, eh Nuna?” He asks the radio.

“How about we take another deep dive into an absolutely delicious track, yeah?”

“You could sell me some ocean front property on Tatooine and I'd pay top dollar. Hit me with it, babygirl.”

He only does a handful of stops and doesn’t write a single ticket for the next six hours.

———

She was so karking tired. Like, tired was an understatement. Half-dead might be more correct. She needed atomic grade caf or a bed to pass out in immediately. Glancing at the near stalled traffic in front of her, Nuna can’t help but think she wasn’t going to get either anytime soon.

The joys of working nights.

She really did love her job. To be a young holoradio jockey and have a spot on any station on Coruscant was pretty damn amazing but to have it on IRR? probably the single coolest station in the core worlds? It was a dream come true. Most of the time.

A yawn escapes her lips and her speeder rattles ominously underneath her.

“Oh- no, no, no.” She mutters looking down at her gauges. Warning lights flash brightly. She’d just gotten the kriffing thing out of the shop last week. They were supposed to have fixed the thrusters. The bike leans to the right and Nuna feels the tell tale swoop in her stomach from a sudden drop in altitude. It wasn’t much more than a few feet but if it was anything like it was the week before she needed a landing platform. And fast.

The early morning light bounces off the transparisteel buildings around her as she tries to find the nearest safe bet. Her speeder bike coughs once and jerks again, jostling her helmeted head. She sucks in a sharp breath as it pulls hard, dragging her from the skylane and into open air. It’s a struggle to keep the thing upright as she tries to guide it in for a landing on the nearest platform. Lights flash in her rear view.

“Really? Really?!” She hisses to herself as her muscles strain to keep the bike on course.

She manages to land the malfunctioning speeder, the ungainly pile of scrap plopping down with all the grace of a pregnant nerf.

The Coruscant Guard bike, all sleek lines, gunmetal grey and cherry red accents lands feet behind her.

Hers makes one last wheeze and cuts off. The good thing is, she’s wide awake now. No caf needed.

“Ma’am?”

Nuna turns to see the visage of snarling maw cocking it’s head in her direction.

“You ok?”

She swallows hard. It was a known fact within her small circle of friends that Nuna Skii - the real Nuna Skii not the sex kitten holojockey- was absolute mush for a guys in uniform and the one stepping closer was definitely one that would make her heart pump harder if it weren’t already for the adrenaline of a near death experience. If there was a name for kink involving men in helmets Nuna had it.

“I- uh- yeah” she takes a deep breath because now was not the place and certainly not the time, “I’m good”

The trooper's head cocks the opposite direction as he points toward her handlebars. “You know you're ok to let those go now, right?”

A nervous laugh escapes her lips. Her hands feel stiff from the exertion of the landing and she wiggles her fingers, forcing the blood back into them as she pulls them back toward her. “Thanks for the reminder.”

“No problem. Can I see your identichip and registration?”

Nuna gives him a blank stare for half a second, eyes moving almost comically from his outstretched hand and back up to his helmet. His free hand rests at his kama, index finger tapping idly. He’s got to be kidding, she nearly died and he was going to-

“You're going to give me a ticket?” She pulls her helmet off with little fanfare and hangs it from the handle bars. “Really? I nearly died and now I’m getting a ticket?!”

The trooper holds both hands up, “Easy there. No one said anything about a ticket. Just because you broke about three different traffic codes and at least two vehicular safety ones...” he lets the implication of what he’s said hang in the air.”

Nuna pulls the requested items out of her bag and hands them to the trooper with more aggression than needed but, damn it all, she was so tired she could cry and now she had to deal with a broke down speeder. Again.

She watches as the trooper looks down at the identichip and then back to her. Once, twice, three times.

“Is there a problem?”

“You’re Nuna Skii- I mean like the real Nuna Skii?” The tone of his voice has changed and he almost seems… excited?

“Uh yeah, guilty as charged. Listen, is this going to-“

“Say, ‘flying you through the night on IRR.’”

“Is this part of your usual traffic stops?” Nuna raises a brow at the trooper. Really? Did it ever get strange enough. She swings a leg over the seat and moves to stand. Her legs shake underneath her and tall, excitable and toothy holds out a gloved hand.

“Here, let me help you.”

She takes it because falling flat on her face really doesn’t seem like something she wanted to add to her laundry list of problems this morning. When she’s standing at her full height, which was substantially shorter than the solid wall of clone trooper in front her, she looks up.

His hand moves to the back of his helmet and rubs gently, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound demanding.” He says almost bashful. “It’s just that if-“

She takes pity on him. “From Corellia to Canto Bight, flying you through the night on Independent Republic Radio”

He stands frozen for a moment. Nuna squirms under the unflinching state of his visor until finally-

“Holy Fett! It’s really you! Listen! I- I mean we- the Guard- we’re like your biggest fans.”

The wind whips up through the levels ruffling the hair on her head, deep lilac colored wisps work their way into her mouth and she spits uselessly before reaching up and using her fingers to remove them. “That’s great really-“

Her hands go to her hips. Was this guy for real?

“Hey, I know a guy that does towing. He’s kind of a di’kut but he owes me a favor. I could get your ride towed where you need it. I mean, if you want?”

“Like, for free?” She clarifies.

The trooper looks down at her as if that was a given, “well, yeah.”

“And you want what in return?” Nuna fidgets. This is where the guy becomes a dirtbag and asks for something. He hands back her identichip and registration before reaching up and popping the seal on his bucket. He gives her a lopsided grin as he slips the helmet up his arm. Kriff. He was cute. His dark hair is cut into a floppy Mohawk. A stray curl of it dips down across his forehead and he offers her a lopsided grin. He is about as intimidating as a puppy.

“Can I get a shout out on your show tonight? I mean, the boys are NEVER going to believe this unless you do.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it” he seems to think for a moment and his smile becomes toothy, “unless you’d like to give me your number too?”

She can feel the hot rush of embarrassment to her cheeks and hopes he mistakes it for wind burn. She ignores his comment about her number because, this fine specimen was so far out of her league it was crazy.

“So What’s to stop me from saying yes and not doing it”

“Aww come on, please? You wouldn’t do one of your biggest fans like that would you?”

“What’s your name?” She can’t handle the soft puppy dog eyes he’s giving her. It should be illegal for any dude with shoulders that broad to look so cute.

“Sargent Hound of the Coruscant Guard at your service.”

She nearly chokes. Well, that explained the puppy dog eyes. “You drive a hard bargain, Sargent.” She says regaining her composure. She looks behind him to the GAR issued speeder. “If you can drop me at my building I’ll call it a deal.”

His smile makes her tummy flutter, “I think that can be arranged.”

——-

“You’re full of it” Rule barks “Osik up to your visor!”

Hound is lounging back on a couch that is not nearly large enough for both him and the massiff sprawled out on it. Grizzer lifts his head, licks his lips lazily and lays back down. Hound scratches around the creature's dorsal spikes and the massiff kicks his back foot happily.

“I told you man. It was her. Identichip verified and everything.

“El-Tee? You hear this?”

Lieutenant Thire looks up from his holopad and the boloball game he was watching, “what?”

Rule is grinning from ear to ear, “Hound here says he helped Nuna Skii out of a bind this morning.”

“I’m not just saying it. I did it.”

Hound explains lazily. He doesn’t tell them about giving her a ride home, pretty sure he broke about half a dozen regs just having her pressed up against his back and her arms around his waist and that was before he dropped her at her building. It was early enough in the day that he doubts anyone really noticed. If they did it was worth it to have her hands clutching at his armor.

Hound had pictured Nuna Skii so many times that the fact that she wasn’t a leggy blonde had come as a shock. What she was wasn’t a bad thing, just different. Short and soft with curves in places he wished he could run his hands all over.

“Prove it!” Ryk laughs as he ambles in, freshly showered and pulling his blacks over his head.

“Should we tell ‘Em Grizz, old man? Or should we just let them eat their buckets when it happens?”

Ryk rolls his eyes as the ARF Trooper chats with his massiff. “You know he’s never going to answer back, right?”

Grizzer looks over his shoulder at Ryk.

“Aww come on man” Hound fusses. One mearty hand moves to scratch under the massiff’s intimidating jaw. Grizzer turns into the touch, nearly purring with contentment. “Just because he can’t speak basic doesn’t mean he doesn’t understand it. Isn’t that right boy. We got our own language, Grizz and I. Smartest mas’ in the whole GAR, aren’t you?”

The creatures leathery tail thumps happily in agreement.

“Don’t know about that but he certainly smells a lot better than the bunch of you.” Thire mutters turning his attention back to boloball and cursing quietly. Ryk lifts an arm smelling.

“Not me! I’m squeaky clean!”

“We’re getting off track here” Rule announces in an attempt to refocus the gathered troopers. “What we need to know is how you're going to prove you met Nuna Skii.”

“Did she sign a ticket?” Thire asks, not looking up. When Hound doesn’t answer Thire looks up.

“She was having a really bad morning-“

“You do know when you work traffic you have to ticket people at least once in a while.”

“Apparently, not the pretty ones.” Ryk cackles.

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, vod.”

Ryk rolls his eyes as Hound moves to turn the radio on. Nuna’s show was starting any minute. He hoped she’d come through.

———-

Around and around Nuna spins. The wheels on her roller chair are in desperate need of oil and squeak in protest. Nuna is undeterred as she waits for the next commercial to end. Her producer glances at her through the transparisteel divider and rolls her eyes. Yes, she was a child. No, she would not be apologizing. She grabs a cold protato from a greasy Dex’s bag as she makes another loop. If her fans could see her now. She’s got on an oversized tunic and a pair of dark pants that were probably a little too tight but were way too comfortable for her to care. When she woke her hair wasn’t about to do anything for her so now it sits piled high in a sloppy bun atop her head. She was about as far away from the character she portrayed as she could get.

“On in fifteen Nunz” Tully her producer says. Nuna hurries to swallow her food and takes a big gulp of water.

“And that was the Twi’Three with their latest and I’m Nuna Skii keeping you up all night.” She purrs into the mic. “I think we’re going to go to the comms and take a few calls. Whatcha wanna let the galaxy know?”

“Hi Nuna. Long time listener. I just wanted to say that I love the show but I’m getting really tired of your pandering to clones-“

Nuna mashes the end button with gusto before sighing deeply into the mic.

“Babies and Gentlemen. My lovelies. From 2100 til 0500 five nights a week this is a trooper positive show. If you don’t like it I’d suggest you find something else to listen too. Those yummy boys in white are giving the Republic their all. I don’t see a problem with a few minutes here and there dedicated to them, do you?” She asks sweetly. “It makes me happy making them happy. You know what else makes me happy? New stuff from that Mon Cal band, Ach’tu. Coming at you after this commercial break”

———-

“Maker, I love when she does that.” Ryk groans quietly. “She could put me in my place any day.”

Rule nods, “she could read me the repair manual to my deece and I would die a happy man.”

Thire snorts, “What about you Hound. Got something to say?”

“Yeah man” Ryk lifts his head from where he was resting it against the back of his chair. “What does she look like.”

Hound offers a sly grin, “like a million credits.”

“Long legs? Big tits? You're killing us man” Rule says raising a brow, “unless you don’t really know.”

Hound laughs, “I know vod, but I’m not telling.” His brothers roll their eyes.

“For all my blaster babes and bucket bunnies happily messing with republic property. I salute you.” Nuna’s voice grabs the gathered troopers attention. Thire snorts softly, pretending as if he wasn’t listening. “Along those lines I want to send a special thanks to my new favorite Hound dog out there patrolling the sky lanes of Coruscant. Keep being a good boy and next time we meet I’ll give you a scratch behind the ears.”

The room falls silent except for the low snore of a sleeping massiff. All eyes fall on Hound. His smile says I told you so.

A good boy. Yeah, he could be very happy with that.

[detroitbydark]

I miss nuna and hound🥺

They’ve taken a bit of a vacation from me but I hope to see them again soo.

[detroitbydark]

So -out of curiosity- after this next chapter of Heart Lies Now would y’all be more interest in which of the three...

1. Migs and Pockets

2. Hound and Nuna

3. Fox and Mouse

[detroitbydark]

I may be late but Hound and Nuna!!!

That’s

Hound/Nuna III

Fox/Mouse II

Migs/Pockets 0

Anyone else wanna throw their vote in on who gets the next published chapter?

[detroitbydark]

WIP (to keep me honest)

Crossed Connections- finish the current story and then start the post Order 66 angst.

The Coruscant Guard Series (because yeah it’s a series now)

Every Dog Has it’s Day (Sergeant Hound/Nuna) finish the current story and then at least one really fun one-shot featuring a strill and an exasperated Fox.

Yet To be named fic (Commander Stone/Mandolorian grocery store owner). Enemies to lovers. Still in the early stages.

Fox and Mouse oneshot(s): nine months of waiting a month at a time. Me’kar’s adoption. Fox’s promotion to Marshal Commander. Any other stand alone you Fox fanciers want to see drop in my inbox.

[detroitbydark]

I just finished reading ur Fox and Mouse series, then immediately went to your story with Hound and Nuna... just wanted to come and say I love them so much! You’re a great writer and I can’t wait to read more of your stuff!!

Fox and Mouse is possibly my favorite OTP of all my stories. Girl poured some heart and soul into them. I’m glad you’re loving my stuff. I started “writing for myself” after COVID started and its great to see that I’m not just entertaining myself 😆