Work Text:
"This is a message for the Mandalorian: my ally from Tython who restored the honour of my father's armour to me. I have taken the palace of Mos Eisley and now rule as Daimyo. I need warriors with skill, smarts and integrity. Warriors who can be trusted. You will be handsomely rewarded. In my house, you’ll be no expendable cog in a machine. All those under my name will enjoy my protection. Come to me and you will be as family. I will protect you with my life."
It’s terrible timing.
Din stares at the space occupied by Boba's holoprojection long after it fades. Those final words ring in his ears, something finally louder than the thumping roar of his rising heat fever over the past few days.
"....You will be as family. I will protect you with my life..."
As family. Din's throat tightens with longing.
Krrsantan lowers the disc carrying Boba's missive and raises a scarred eyebrow expectantly. The tall, dark Wookie occupies most of the space in the humble hut Din was granted on Mos Pelgo’s boundary when he landed here three months ago. He’s not sure why he came here, of all places, when he could have followed Cara to Nevarro and filled his days with familiar jobs… but a part of him wanted to go where nobody knew him.
Or what he had lost.
And Cobb had been… kind. Kinder than Din deserved. Than he wanted, if he’s honest with himself.
It might just be the pre-heat talking but Din does not think the bounty hunter standing before him on Boba’s behalf will be kind if Din asks nicely enough.
Din shakes his head, surprised at himself and ashamed of the stray thought.
Who is he to pre-judge this creature by his stature alone, by the way he holds himself, stoic and certain, the lick of danger at the fringe of his chest-deep rumbles chuffing with impatience--?
Stop.
Din blinks to clear his vision. He doesn’t even know the Wookie.
"I'll take the job." Din doesn't need appeals to a higher sense of duty. Any excuse to take him in the opposite direction of Mandalore is enough and what he’d been hoping to find in Mos Pelgo? He sighs. "But you'll need to come back in a few days."
"He needs you. He fears war." Wookie grammar omits the sense of time but the urgency is apparent in Krrsantan's gentle snarl.
The naturally low and rough quality of that voice sends inconvenient shivers down Din's spine, nervous sweat breaking on his brow. He bites his inner cheek, conflicted. "It's not a good time for me. He'll have to wait."
"You need more credits? He will give more."
"It's not the money."
"Another job?"
"No, it--" Din scowls, cheeks flushing with heat. "A private matter I need to resolve first. Alone."
The Wookie tilts their head at him, sharp eyes scanning him with a glance. "You are in season."
Din's face burns, muted by dual outrage and embarrassment. Such pointed silence usually cowed most people to lower their heads and scurry away.
Krrsantan towers over him almost seven feet tall, large enough he must duck his head to avoid the ceiling. Knuckle dusters spark with the idle flex of his huge, clawed hands, luscious, black pelt dusted with sand from the encroaching storm on the horizon. His torso is broad and muscled with a physique that makes Din nostalgic for others who've loomed over him in such times of difficulty.
In season, Krrsantan called it. Like Din was game for the hunt of better predators with bigger teeth. The silver streaks in his pelt make Din wonder what his age and experience would have in store for him. He studies Din with that low, thoughtful hum, not quite a growl nor a rumble. Heat simmers in his gaze. It could be the offer of a fight, the prelude to a crude dismissal or something else entirely. The desire that pools hot between Din's legs doesn't care.
Wookies have infamously sharp senses. Din is sure he can smell it. The other hunter is decent not to mention it, the air thickening with tension.
"We go on my ship," Krrsantan decides at last. "You will have your privacy. The storm approaches. But we go now."
///
In retrospect, Din doesn't think he really fooled himself into thinking he would ride his heat out alone. It had been too long since he'd been in the company of someone who got that reaction from him when he was in the right place at the right time, the envoy of someone with honour, no less.
The disappointed sting in Cobb’s face passes over his eyes once more. Din sighs, dragging a hand down the tight chords of his throat. It was no fault of the Marshall’s. He was a good man. He’d given Din a refuge where his body recognised it was safe enough to trigger the heat, long overdue, even as Din dreaded how it would be to ride it out with someone so… kind.
When Krrsantan arrived, Din’s head had already been pounding, burning up a fever, cunt aching with the miserable thought of riding out the next few days alone.
Din doesn't know how far he trusts Krrsantan when the Wookie lingers at the threshold of the ship's private berth, the shoulders of his immense, furred frame filling the door, silent offer warming in dark eyes.
The ship kicked into auto-pilot moments ago and will sail without issue unless tripped by one of its proximity sensors. Nothing else requires their attention. There is no one around to interrupt them.
Din nods and leans back against the berth’s wall, spreading his thighs.
Krrsantan's long legs swallow the distance in two strides and Din is thrilled when the Wookie tugs him forward off the berth, spilling him to brace his hands on the floor instead. The berth whines, metal hinges creaking under the Wookie's weight when he takes his seat on the cot's edge, dragging Din's thighs up to straddle him backwards, hips held high. Breathing hard, Din's mouth waters in anticipation, abdominal muscles tensing to hold the posture, to keep himself from collapsing forward. This is going to be good. His pants are tugged free by impatient claws but the hunter that growls and spreads Din on his lap is considerate enough not to tear his clothing.
“Nice omega, stay still….”
Leathery, calloused thumbs spread Din by the soft skin of his inner thighs and he gasps at the kiss of cool air on his wet, burning flesh. His cunt throbs, clenching in want, and he feels a fresh trickle of slick down his thigh. Krrsantan growls, shifting behind him and the familiar slick sounds alert Din to the hunter stroking himself, teasing himself from his sheathe. The Wookie does not make him wait.
With a tug of Din back against his hips, blunt, hard heat glances through the omega's folds-- Din gasps, startled-- the head of whatever monstrosity Krrsantan calls a cock feels bigger, firmer and more strangely textured than others he's taken, not that he's taken so m--
"Nnnnnnnh oh yes," Din groans out low and ragged, all but melting down to his elbows as that sweet bludgeon of a cock parts his folds and slides, grinds into him.
Krrsantan is throbbing. Hot. He's huge, an impossible fit that makes Din's jaw drop, eyes squeezed shut and wincing as he stretches Din's cunt to fit him, huge, clawed hands firm on Din's hips, pulling him down as those powerful hips roll, grinding in, in, in and Din whines as he's forced wider, wider, chest curling to look down his torso in fear of how much more of Krrsantan there is yet to take.
He gulps at the sight of almost an entire hand's span remaining, realising that strange texture he felt was hardened ridges and nubs that travel the entire length of Krrsantan's cock, and at its base--
The sound that shudders out of him is pure lust, drooling at the size of the blood red knot that he already knows is going to make his teeth shatter, and his hips buck in an involuntary, desperate attempt to fuck himself down, get himself closer, tell Krrsantan how he wants it.
The Wookie doesn't need any further encouragement.
The fellow hunter's hands clamp on his narrow waist to keep him still, the furred thighs beneath him flex, "Guh-- aah!" Din cries as white, vicious relief spears him from cunt to the tingling crown of his skull and flexing tips of his toes.
"--gain, again, please," he trembles as Krrsantan withdraws, drives into him again, and again, clawed feet sliding further apart to brace himself and soon Din is rocking forward with hiccuped cries on rough, bouncing thrusts, vision blurring and his ears burning with the pathetic squelch of his cunt brimming with slick and pre-cum as Krrsantan spares no quarter, tugging him back on that bruising cock, making his hole yield.
"Ff-- nnnh, don't st-- ah-- aaahn, please, don't sto-- oh, fucking stars--"
Behind him, Krrsantan growls deep in satisfaction, hips flicking harshly and Din cries out, achy and rasping, bodily rocked and thrilling to know he's pleasing him, to know how easily Krrsantan dictates where Din's body must follow without even sinking him to the knot.
Opening his eyes blearily, he whimpers at the sight that greets him down his body where Krrsantan holds his thighs so wide, skin below his navel bulging obscenely with each mean buck of his hips, reshaping Din's cunt for his use. He whines and fights the hunter's hold on him, attempting to swirl his hips. He wants that knot. He needs it so bad, cunt primed, slick and swollen for it. An idle voice at the back of his consciousness wonders if being in Boba's employ will mean he gets to see Krrsantan more regularly and if the Wookie would do this again because Din doesn't know what he'll do if he doesn’t get to sample this cock again.
"C-come on, put your back in it," he moans in a rush, arms trembling with the growing strain. "Fuck me like this is your last chance, want it-- in my f-fucking throat--"
He doesn't know half of what comes out of his mouth in these moments, but he gets the result he wants-- yelping as he's shoved forward, almost falling on his buy’ce face and catching himself at the last moment, wrists aching. His knees hit the ground with a shudder up his spine, then a whole other shiver of pleasure as they're kicked wide enough to almost imbalance him.
His hips are yanked high, arching his spine on the brink of uncomfortable.
Krrsantan collapses over the top of him, feral and snarling no words that Din recognises, caging him in. Damp fur tickles the back of Din’s thighs and the Wookie's knees plant astride each of his, body heat almost suffocating with thick fur baking the air between them. One immense hand curves up beneath Din's chest to curl around his throat, pinning him still. The other plants above Din’s head for leverage.
He gulps, thighs tensing to brace himself.
It's futile. The first thrust shatters him as Krrsantan ploughs to the hilt, hips surging against hips. Din wrenches with a howling cry of gratitude that urges his hips up for more, sobbing as the angle makes Krrsantan feel bottomless and Din is confronted with the power of a Wookie under thrall.
Krrsantan fucks Din like the omega has offended him, hips pistoning so fast Din can't enjoy the high of each thrust before the Wookie has withdrawn and shoved him cruelly wide around the next one, nubs and ridges of that beautiful cock sparking blaster fire behind his eyelids with each strike against his inner walls, slamming against his clit. Krrsantan's force is so rough blinding perfect, balls slapping hard against Din's ass as the omega chokes for breath, eyes rolling back in his head, he can only brace himself and... take it.
Din's existence reduces to the molten throb of his cunt and the monstrous cock plundering it apart, its cruel head that surges deep enough to batter the mouth of his cervix, forcing pained/blissed cries from his chest with every powerful snap of those hips, knees sliding wider in submission. He is not aware of how he sobs, begs, or claws at the ground for purchase he’ll never find.
Pinned without chance of escape and embanked by the Wookie's scent, long black braids swing in his periphery, the musical clink of utility belts jostling with every thrust, and Krrsantan's pleasured snarls assure Din he is doing well. He weeps, wishing he could exist in this moment forever, a place where his universe is simple ecstasy and nobody wants anything more from him than the use of his cunt.
The shameful thought is lightning in his blood, and his muscles tighten to living stone with a keening scream as he comes and comes and cries and comes.
Above him, Krrsantan roars and bucks at the twitch and spasms of the cunt milking him, that knot thickening and smacking against the swollen lips of his folds, and Din's cries pitch higher, desolate as Krrsantan fucks him through the orgasm, forcing his pleasure sharper and brighter, that knot slapping against him harder, faster as the hunter pins him and uses his cunt to chase his own release.
Awareness prickles at Din's periphery as Krrsantan's knot begins to catch on the sloppy lips of his folds. His eyes burn with fresh tears and his heart pounds with alarm. It's too big, it hurts, it won't--
He barely has the chance to gasp for breath when it finally shoves inside and Din's vision whites out as he's forced impossibly wide around the knot that feels as wide as his hips, head of that cock breaching the mouth of his cervix and gripping like a vice.
Din's shriek is drowned beneath his partner's roar of completion, hips surging against Din where they're tied and spilling directly into his womb, pulse after pulse. The pleasure is beyond relief, deeper than bone, and Din is still crying when he comes again, wet thighs shaking around that knot as he feels that seed fill him, searing and thick.
Above him, Krrsantan pants, snarling at the strain of each pulse and pushing against him hard enough to hurt. On and on it goes, Din whimpers, fingers gliding over the minute swell where the Wookie has bloated him with it. At last, Krrsantan sighs, tension slackening from his long arms.
“Th-thank you,” Din says, voice hoarse.
For long minutes, he soars in the high of his heat relieved. His head is blissfully empty and quiet. His universe is perfect and without pain.
A soft rumble utters from above him. Krrsantan’s hips shift and Din mewls as he’s dragged back by the knot in his cunt. Large hands close over his chest and lower belly, bracing him back against that muscled, furred chest as the Wookie rises to stand, unwittingly forcing him down further on that cock and sending his eyes rolling back in his head, all but babbling, hands shooting out for purchase on Krrsantan’s arms.
“We’ll land before your season ends, Mandalorian,” the Wookie says, an octave lower than before and it’s satisfying to think Din did that to him, even as his thighs are gathered and his knees pressed to his chest, spreading him wide. “But I can tie you until then. Brace yourself.”
///
8D8 is not ineffective as far as protocol droid stand-ins go, but he is slow on some of the most basic duties. Black Krrsantan is halfway across the throne room when the former interrogation droid straightens importantly.
“Black Krrsantan! Champion of the arena, hunter and envoy of our Lord Fett--”
At the throne, Boba Fett and Fennec stand in alarm at the Wookie’s purposeful stride and, more concerningly, the body slung over his shoulder like a sack of meat.
“What happened?” Fennec asks sharply.
In answer, Krrsantan swings the fully-clothed Mandalorian down off his shoulder into a two-armed carry and all but drops him in Boba’s arms. Stupefied and almost getting tangled in the Mandalorian’s cloak, Boba’s hands fly up to catch him as the Wookie steps back with a grunt.
“Your omega warrior can take a lot. He passed out after round four, but he’ll be coming around soon.”
Limbs slack, that silver helmeted head lolls onto Boba’s shoulder with a groan.
The scent of ripe, wet heat hits the two alphas at the same time. Boba and Fennec look at each other in alarm, then turn as one to their hunter.
“You--” Boba begins, eyes wide.
“Krrsantan!” Fennec snaps as the Wookie turns on his heel, swinging his rifle round from his back and shaking his head. “Get back here!”
“I’m taking the rest of the day off,” the Wookie growls back and does not stay to entertain them further.
Huffing under her breath, Fennec hisses something unintelligible.
Boba doesn’t have the opportunity to think about what mild retribution she’s plotting for the Wookie’s future. Mando is heavier than he looks. Sinking down to the throne’s edge, Boba gathers the unconscious bounty hunter higher against his shoulder. His scent is…
Boba’s head swims with it, mouth watering. He looks at Fennec still scowling at the exit where Krrsantan stormed out on his responsibilities.
“What are we going to do with this?”
Fennec looks at him like he asked if Tatooine had sand. “Your charge hasn’t changed, mighty Daimyo. He’ll enjoy your protection. Like you promised.”
Boba looks down into that featureless visor and sprawled limbs, heart skipping a beat. Looks back at his unsympathetic mate. “You’ll help me, won’t you?”
Fennec’s gaze flattens into the familiar long-suffering look of aggravation, but Boba already knows the answer because it’s not quite a glare and she doesn’t resist when he takes her hand, bringing her knuckles to his lips in thanks, even as she groans at the ceiling in exasperation.
“The things I do for you,” she mutters.
“I know,” he says, with a slow smile.
///
If only either of them had any idea how much their lives were about to change.