You had no skill in podracing, and although you’d learned to tend to the vehicles well, the racers knew you were a slave and worked for nothing. There had been nothing for you to stay for on Malastare. He’d given you a choice - he would leave you where he had found you, unharmed, or give you a ride to wherever you wanted to go. The news that he’d killed your captor had been welcome - but tempered by the fact that this tall, broad man in a visor now technically owned you. When Mando found you, you were huddling in a dark storage room, trembling from the cold and from the sounds of blaster fire. To be tempted to swallow handfuls of dirt just so your stomach doesn’t clench around thin air. You know what it is like to lay awake at night hungry. Usually if it’s safe enough to land the Razorcrest, after his job is done, he’ll hang back on the ship with the Kid while you go to market, buying as much as you can carry. You know that much from the empty plates that come back when he’s finished eating in private, in that little pod where he sleeps.īut lately you’ve had to make do with ration bars and what little dried food you’ve saved. Now, you asked, “You like my cooking?” From behind Mando. In a few moments, when you’d looked again, he had tucked it away. A tuft of hair peeking out, the shade of the much-loved chocolate only available on Empire-controlled planets. “You need to eat!”Ī commotion had come from within. In the end, the kid had dragged you down to his father’s closed pod door, crying and scraping his tiny claws on the door. “I can’t wait to eat it,” Mando drawls from the pilot’s seat. “You excited, baby?” You ask the kid, who gurgles in your arms. They taste of - well, not a lot actually, but you don’t mind today, because today, Mando is navigating to Kiros to buy supplies. Hours later, you’re doggedly eating one of the ration bars Mando - that isn’t his name, you know that - keeps on-ship. Only then had the Kid curled up on you and slept, at peace now his father had returned safely. When he’d picked up the little guy and bent his forehead to the little one’s, you’d melted. You heard it in the slower than usual drawl through the helmet’s com. Of course, not that you could see that on his face. He’d been on the move on-planet for thirty-six hours and had come back to you exhausted. You drift outside the orbit of Bardotta Mando has just completed a lucrative job there. Mando, the ship’s captain, is below, asleep in his bunk. When you do his little feet twitch and he almost purrs with contentment. You doze on and off in one of the rear seats in the Razorcrest’s cockpit, the Kid snuggled up in your lap, his little face relaxed in sleep, ears soft, and you occasionally stroke them. Originally posted by ithinkwehitametaphor Thanking lovely for the beta and the Star Wars lore, and for cheerleading! Words: 4400 ~ Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader ~ Warnings: P in V sex (wrap it up), oral sex, swears, sex pollen (but consent is explicitly given by both parties).
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