Clone-Simp 🫦

And so, you spent your days ignoring your phone, staring out the window, counting the snowflakes that landed on the windowsill and all the people that walked on the sidewalk across the street. Snow had finally started and under different circumstances, you would have found it incredibly romantic. You would have put on a lovely winter playlist and re-organized your closet and bought yourself flowers and asked Boba for walks in the park.

Instead all you got were messages from your parents (your mother), grocery deliveries (your father) and – when you still didn’t answer them – flowers. And although they were absolutely stunning, you made it a point to throw them away on principle. Maudii made the joke that “considering that they know where you live, they make very little effort of actually showing up” and you couldn’t agree more.

It was like the frustration you had suppressed for so long came back tenfold, turned into a rage that almost scared you. You wanted to scream and stab your pillow and throw mugs against the wall and then make a nest and cry yourself to sleep just to repeat it all over again the next day. You wanted to call your parents and tell them to never call you again, you wanted to call Boba and beg for forgiveness and volunteer to work somewhere completely else so maybe your father wouldn’t fire him when he found out.

But who even said Boba would take you back?

You were currently googling job opportunities up in Hoth, when a knock on your door sounded.

“Not in the mood, Maudii,” you grumbled, unmoving from where you were snuggled up in bed.

“It is not Maudii,” a strange voice said and your head snapped up, your phone falling to your chest.

There, standing in the doorway, was your mother. Dressed in her cream-coloured two-piece she looked so out of place in the room with peeling paint and printed photos taped to the walls. Of all the people, you had never expected her to show up.

She did not wait for you to greet her. “It’s your birthday, honey, so I think we should go out.”

“I don’t feel like going out.”

“Now don’t make such a fuss,” she sat on the very edge of your bed, “I got reservations for the best spot in town, just the two of us. That has to take your mind off whatever alpha you’re love sick over, hm?”

“I – what?”

Images flashed in your mind of Boba in the park, him smiling at you, winking when you handed him notes, the feeling of him kissing you. How could she have known? Did she know? Fuck, did you look caught? Was your face betraying you?

“Of course, I was worried when you suddenly disappeared from Coruscant to … here,” she wrinkled her nose like she still didn’t understand, “But when I came here and saw you cosy up with that coach, I realized that my baby moved for love. And isn’t that so romantic? I am sad to see that it did not work out.”

“You … what?”

“I am sad to see it didn’t work out,” and she did look genuinely hurt on your behalf. That didn’t lighten the bombshell she had just dropped on you.

“You knew … you knew about Boba?”

“Well, I had my suspicions,” she shrugged, “But before I could ask you about it, it seemed things already simmered out. At least according to how grumpy that man is. What happened?”

Shock gave way to confusion gave way to disbelief gave way to anger.

How could she say these words and not realize what had happened? How could she not look at you, look at your father and look at herself and realize that the only thing that had happened was –

“You,” you stood up, wiggling your toes, “You happened, mom. I – I can’t believe you sit here and tell me about it as if you and dad didn’t destroy my life!”

“Now, I don’t know what –“

“You had your suspicions that I was with Boba and you let dad say that to me,” you screamed, “You let – you let him say that he would fire Boba and – and –“

You paced around the room, too many thoughts wanting to spill out all at once. It was an avalanche and you were ripped with it.

“If you really love me, you have to let me go. I – Do you realize how unhappy I have been these last few years?” your voice rose and she flinched but you could not bring yourself in the moment, “I have done everything I could to make you proud but I am – it’s like I can’t breathe when you are around me. Living here, working for the team, it finally felt like I was building something for myself and you still couldn’t let me have it. If you ever want me to truly find myself, you need to leave me be.”

Tears pricked the corner of your eyes and you took a deep breath. Each word was a weight off your chest and you were ready to feel tons lighters. “Talk to dad,” you implored her, “Get him to sell the team or at least to stop meddling in my career. Stop sending me expensive champagne and flowers and that bread that I told you I don’t like. Let me live my life, let me get a job on my own. Let me – let me be with people who I want to be with. Coach – Boba,” your heart broke at saying his name out loud, “He did pursue me and he was right to. I – I love him, at least I think I do, and I can’t keep myself from being happy just out of fear of disappointing you.”

Your mother was quiet. Uncharacteristically quiet. For a woman who was so eloquent, she watched you silently for a long time. She didn’t look angry, at least, but you also weren’t sure if you cared if she was. All you felt now was pure exhaustion and relief. You had said your piece and if she still could not see what you meant, then … then you needed to think about how to get out of Mandalore for good.

“Vanilla.”

“What?”

“I thought you had a new room spray or something to cover that mildew smell,” she gestured to a corner on the ceiling where there had been water damage a few months ago, “But it’s you. You are getting your scent.”

Your heart stopped for just a moment as your world turned upside down before it started beating twice the speed.  Your scent (or lack thereof) was never something you tried to linger on but now that you focussed on it, there was the faint scent of vanilla in the air. Could that really be you? After years of not having one, you had kind of made peace with the fact that you would not be like other omegas in that regard.

But if even your mother noticed and you detected the same scent, there had to be something to it, right?

“I never wanted you to be unhappy,” your mother said softly, her hand stroking over your cheek in what reminded you when you had been five years old and scared of the monsters under your bed, “I foolishly thought that you were just like us. That life in Coruscant was meant for you and you just needed time to realize it. But maybe … maybe your happiness doesn’t depend on a place but a person.”

“My happiness is dependent on letting me be free,” you mumbled, cheeks blazing as you finally admitted, “I … I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“You could never disappoint me, my darling,” she pulled you in a for a hug, her voice cracking, “I am sorry that I did not see it sooner. That I was too blind to recognize you for the wonderful young woman you have become and trying to force you into something you didn’t want. But if you are willing, I – I would love to try again. To show you that we do love you and we want to be in your life, even if we have to learn how we can best do that.”

“I – I would like that, too,” you murmured, returning the hug, clinging to her shoulders.

“Okay, so how about this?” your mother gently let you go, “I will have a talk with your father about all this. And when …” – she winced – “If you are ready to maybe have a chat, you send me a message, okay?”

Damn it, why were there tears in your eyes again?

“Okay,” you nodded, wiping your nose on your forearm, “That sounds good. Thank you, mom.”

“No thank you, for giving us another chance,” she smiled, already halfway through the door before she frowned, “Now that I think about it, we didn’t send you any flowers.”

Managing a trembling smile, you watched her leave the apartment, taking a deep breath once the door fell close behind her.

That had been … different from what you had expected. Better, sure, but also somehow worse because the first and only thought that crossed your mind was how you should have had this conversation much sooner. Much, much sooner.

Like … years ago, maybe.

Because it definitely felt like years’ worth of tension were finally lifted from your chest, allowing you to breathe a little easier. You let yourself fall down to your bed, right into the pillows and blankets that you should probably wash at some point. Later. Now was the time to relish in the newfound freedom for just a moment. It calmed you down to know that it was up to you to initiate contact with your parents now. That there would be no more messages, no more groceries, no more flowers …

You sat up so fast, you were still feeling dizzy by the time you hurried through the kitchen, skidding across the tiles as you ripped open the lid to the trash can. The flowers your parents had sent today – they hadn’t sent them. Someone else had. And you needed to know who.

You didn’t care that you were discarding that old cereal box or the empty milk carton as you lifted them up, the beautiful petals looking worse for wear from when you had dropped the bouquet without another look at them. Now, though, you were looking through each bloom, frantically reaching for the cream coloured card that was nestled on top.

Happy birthday, princess. May you find the courage to achieve your dreams.

When Maudii came back from the grocery store, she didn’t ask why you were sitting next to the trash can, bawling your eyes out and clutching a card that barely smelled like coffee.

*

All he wanted to do was call you and ask you whether you liked the flowers.

*

You could only call in sick for so long before it became unbelievable and although you still very much felt like you were on the brink of a breakdown, you decided that it was time to go out and face the world.

You had faced your mother, so really, you had already put the worst behind you.

Still, the moment the cold sunny air touched your skin, the desire to crawl back into bed and hide from seeing anyone – and especially a certain someone – became more and more tempting with each step.

How could that be? It had been barely a few weeks that you had entertained the possibility of more with Boba Fett and your life and your career. Could that have been enough to irrevocably damage the good enough feeling you previously had strived for?

“You’re here, good,” Manuel, your supervisor, greeted you, “You okay, kid?”

The look of fatherly concern on his face almost made you cry but you managed a trembling smile and a nod and that was already a win for today.

“Tara managed your inbox for you, if you have any questions,” he explained, standing at the entrance of your cubicle while you unpacked your bag, “But better save them for later, we’ve got the big game meeting today.”

“The, uh, the game meeting?” you squeaked, “I didn’t think I would go today …”

“Of course, you will, your new question roster for the pre-game interviews will be introduced,” he announced with a grin, “That was your work and you should get the credit for it.”

The Big Meeting happened every few home games, or so, and was a giant cross-department meeting on the morning of a game. Not only did all eight coaches attend but so did the press department, the marketing division, the in-house gastronomical services and some people from higher up. Which meant that not only were you guaranteed to see Boba today, chances were high you would cross your father as well.

A bit much for the first day back maybe.

Sure, you may have hoped that – today being a game day – you would have the office to yourself because everybody was busy preparing for the chaos that would follow at night. But the universe had different plans for you. Maybe this was like taking off a band-aid – a day of anxiety would clear the rest of time from any uncertainty.

Also, it would be impossible to explain to Manuel that you couldn’t attend the meeting to be there for the introduction of your very own pre-game questions because you were scared of facing the alpha you were pining after and whom you had rejected because your parents had fucked with your head.

At least the universe seemed to take pity on you somewhat because as you entered the already packed room with your colleagues and your printed handouts, it seemed that your father would not join today’s meetings. You found a place to the side of the large conference table, close enough to have good view of the coaches, far away enough not to have to look at Boba the entire time.

Just as his name crossed your mind, he walked through the door. Your breath caught in your throat and you straightened up a little. But when his eyes landed on you there was … nothing. No cocky smirk, no wink, nothing to indicate that he was happy to see you. Exactly what you wanted. Exactly what you had asked of him when you told him you weren’t interested in him.

Why, then, did it feel like your heart was breaking into two?

“Morning everyone,” Boba rumbled and took a seat, “How are we doing?”

A jumble of goods and mornings echoed through the room and you sank further into your seat. Maudii sat across from you, shooting you an encouraging (if still concerned) look. You returned it with a smile of your own, feeling a bit more secure. You could do this. You were a grown woman. The fact that you could smell coffee even a few seats away from him did nothing to your insides at all.

“Nah, we gotta put Vizsla on the ice today,” Boba shook his head, replying to a comment you seemed to have missed, “That omega of his is visiting and we all know he plays better when she’s here.“

Everyone chuckled in agreement.

“Today is also the first run of our new pre-game questions,” Manuel cleared his throat, “Developed by one of our own to listen to more of the feedback we’re getting from fans.”

“One of our own ...?” another division leader asked.

“Ah yes,” your supervisor’s hand landed on your shoulder and you flinched, holding the papers a little tighter as he said your name, “She’s treated us to some good work and I am sure we will see more of her in the coming seasons.”

His praise was balm to your soul, especially after your long absence. You were proud of your work and you were sure that the new introductory questions might bring the fans more joy. You just wished you could convey this pride properly instead of focussing on the man at the head of the table.

“Can I have a copy of these new questions?” Boba asked, his gaze now solely fixed on you. His eyes were still the warm brown colour you couldn’t seem to forget and for the fraction of a second, you could convince yourself that they also held warmth for you.

“Uh yes,” you murmured, ducking between some colleagues to hand him one of the papers, “here.” His fingers brushed yours, grazing over your scent gland and now you could smell that hint of vanilla. Your skin burned and you snatched your head back, hoping he had not noticed. He didn’t turn to look at you. Why wouldn’t he look at you?

“Thank you.”

“Of course,” you mumbled, feeling the familiar burn behind your eyes. What was wrong with you? Your chest was aching in discomfort and you took a deep breath. Your nose filled with his scent and while it made your chest ache, it kept the tears at bay. You just needed to get through this meeting.

Boba didn’t say anything more, didn’t look at you anymore and you found yourself wishing that he would. It would still hurt but at least you could pretend at night that he had looked at you with love instead of cold indifference.

Once the meeting was over, you hurried to the bathroom. Locked in a stall, you sat on the lid and cried, sobbing into the crook of your arm. All you could do was ask yourself how you would survive the rest of your life like this?

*

He looked for you after the meeting but you must have snuck out with the mass of people from press.

His assistant coach noticed and nudged him with his elbow. “If you want me looking for that sweet omega, just say the word.”

“Fuck off, Brady.”

*

“Okay enough is enough.”

“Huh?”

You looked up from the romance movie re-run on the TV to where your friend had just posted herself right in your field of vision. The last time Maudii had looked this determined was when she tried to get the retro design fridge from the sidewalk up into your apartment.

“You need to get out,” she put her hands on her hips, “You are so focussed on being sad about losing him, you haven’t had a chance to be mad at your parents for betraying you like this.”

You opened your mouth to protest but she raised a single finger, stopping you in your tracks. ”No, I won’t hear it. I know your relationship with them is getting better, slowly, but that doesn’t mean that there aren’t lasting effects of what they have done with you. You’re so terrified of failure and rejection that you didn’t put yourself into positions where you can fail or be rejected. You’ve spent your entire life hearing from your parents that your dreams aren’t achievable and they won’t ever happen and I understand that you don’t want to put yourself in situations where you’re under their constant scrutiny. But are you aware that whenever Coach Fett is in a room, you just leave?”

Your eyes widened. You had never seen Maudii this angry before and you didn’t know whether you should be terrified or flattered that she was this angry with you.

“You’re terrified of him not loving you the way you do – and I know that you love him because that’s why you put yourself in this miserable position in the first place. But don’t you see that now he’s accepted that he doesn’t have a chance because he’s not like your parents where he would put himself over your wishes?”

Your first instinct was to deny everything. To send her out of your room, screaming that she just didn’t understand. You were trying to help Boba, you were trying to stick to your plan of doing as little damage to his life here as possible.

You were trying to … protect yourself.

The truth in her words made you hesitate and you found yourself mulling them over.

“I,” you started, your throat closing with emotion, “I really thought I was doing the right thing.”

Your best friend fell to the couch next to you. “Oh honey, I know.”

“I really fucked up,” you sniffled, wiping your nose on the sleeve of your sweater, “And I – I don’t know if I will make it worse by trying to … to talk to him and apologize or if I should just let him be and …” you swallowed back a sob, “I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do now.”

“You most certainly should not let him be,” Maudii insisted, squeezing your hands in hers, “We are talking about the man who sent you flowers even when he thought you would never talk to him again.”

“Those were really nice flowers,” you nodded over a wave of fresh tears, “And I threw them all away!”

“Okay okay okay, deep breaths, honey. In and out. In …. And out, there we go,” you evened out your breathing, watching as your friend’s shoulders did the exaggerated movements to help you calm down, “Now, I want you to ask yourself: What would make you happy?”

Your answer came without hesitation, “Being with Boba. Making him … making him happy and smile and – and going out with him and getting that permanent position with the Minotaurs and then I could stay here and be with him.”

Maudii smiled at you in triumph. “See?” she asked you, “Now why would you leave him be when he is who you want? You deserve happiness and so does he. You two just need to get your act together.”

A rare spark of optimism settled in your chest. If you thought about how happy he had made you and how happy you seemed to have made him, maybe it wasn’t too much of a stretch to think that he would take you back. There was only one thing to consider now:

“What do I do now?”

“There is only one thing you can do.” Maudii pointed to the TV, “Major fucking gesture.”

*

“You sure you want to do this, kid?” Manuel asked you, still holding the clip board with today’s required players for the press, “Tom already volunteered.”

“No, it’s fine,” you smiled tightly at your boss, “I can do it. One last time this season, right?”

He laughed, handing the notes over to you and slapping your shoulder, “Right, let’s hope for the best, huh? I cannot believe we might actually win the Cup this season.”

The walk down had your heart racing and your hands trembling. You were excited and nervous and terrified and yet you knew this was exactly where you were supposed to go. Right down the stairs, through the locker rooms to the teasing calls of the players complimenting your shirt and straight to your alpha’s – into Boba’s office.

You didn’t knock because you knew if you just paused for one second, the fear would get to you. But now you were standing there, watching him read through some papers, too absorbed in them to notice that it was you standing in front of his desk and not one of your colleagues.

“Just leave the call sheet there,” he gestured to the corner of the desk without looking up, “Can’t promise anything today though, I need them in top shape.”

“Okay,” you said and his head whipped up so fast, you were feeling dizzy for him.

Boba looked … old. And not in the handsome way he teased you about when he asked you if you wanted to take his knot (a thought that made your thighs squeeze) but in the way that showed how tired he was. There were dark rings under his eyes, the shadow of his stubble looked more prominent and if you were anyone but you, you would be terrified of this alpha in front of you.

But all you felt was worry. Had you done this to him? How could you ever make it up to him?

“It’s you,” he said, his voice hoarse, “You are … here to give me the notes.”

“Yes,” you nodded, “I – There is a lot I want to say but this is the big game but I was hoping if, um, maybe we could talk after?”

He stood up, rounding the desk until he stood in front of you. “You want to talk?”

Maybe this was a bad idea after all. It was hours before the most important game of his career as a coach and you just walked in, announcing that you wanted to talk to him after effectively breaking him with him under the pretence that he was too old and just not the alpha for you. What kind of person, what kind of potential omega, did it make you now to stand in front of him and ask him for his time?

“You’re thinking too much again,” he murmured, his hand reaching out until it landed on your waist. It was the first time he had touched you in forever and warmth spread from there straight to your heart, “I – I will never lie to you, omega. I have spent the last few weeks debating how I could get you back and seeing you here makes me want to skip this game entirely so I can prove to you that I am the man for you. So, let’s talk about something else for now, okay?”

You already are the man for me.

Your heart filled with hope and you bit your lip, trying to keep yourself from smiling too widely. But the warm look in his eyes, his lingering touch on your waist, felt like coming home.

“Do you want to see my merch for today?” you asked him, playing with the hem of your shirt, “I – I got it specifically for today.”

“I was wondering when I’d see you in the team colours,” he joked, leaning back against the desk and making a twirling motion with his finger, “Spin around for me, little one, let me see.”

That was exactly what you had hoped and planned for. Turning around slowly, you revealed the little late-night amendment you had made to your wardrobe with the help of Maudii’s sewing machine. Because instead of the name of any of Minotaur player, the back of your shirt read Fett.

Boba was silent for a long time but you forced yourself to stay still, with your back turned to him. “Do, um, is it too much?”

His hand returned to your hip and moments later, the heat of his body pressed against your back. Melting into him was as easy as breathing and when both his hands landed on your hips, pulling you back against him, you were done for. All these weeks yearning for your alpha to touch you and now you had him right up behind you, his mouth so close to your neck, it made you feel all fuzzy.

You could feel him nosing at the back of your ear, his breath washing over your scent gland, sending shivers down your spine. “Do you know what it means to wear someone names on their back?”

“Yeah,” you smiled at him, for the first time smelling your own hint of vanilla mixed with his coffee scent, “I do.”

“Fucking hell, you’re gonna kill me,” he growled, his forehead resting on your shoulder, “Omega … The things I want to do to you.”

“I – I really want to stay, alpha, I do. But you have to win a game, Boba,” you reminded him, relishing in the feeling of him so close and already hating the fact that you had to be away from him.

“Believe me,” his hand squeezed your hip, his mouth brushing over your neck, “I will win this for you and then we will talk and then I will put my mating bite right here.”

Stars, the things this man did to you with just his words.

“Don’t – don’t you want to hear my apology first?” you asked, breathless as you tilted your head to the side, “I – I prepared a whole thing.”

His mouth opened against your throat in a kiss, his teeth scarping over your skin. “I will gladly hear anything you will ever want to say to me, ‘mega,” he growled, planting another kiss to the spot under your jaw, “But I hope you know I forgave you the moment you stepped through this door with my name on your back. Now go,” he palmed your ass and you giggled, “I have a game to win and an omega to claim.”

*

The Mandalorian Minotaurs were the champions for the first time in 13 years.

To say the city was ecstatic would be an understatement. To say you were ecstatic would be an understatement.

There were celebrations on the ice, there were celebrations on the stands, there were celebrations on every floor of the arena. Including the locker room where Boba had just finished giving his post-game interview.

The floor was sticky with spilled champagne und you got jostled by more than one rowdy hockey player on your way through the crowd. You didn’t mind though. Especially not when it brought you closer to Boba who was currently hugging Din Djarin’s husband, the biggest smile on his face that was only rivalled by the one on yours.

“Boba!” your voice barely carried through the noise, but he still turned his face to you, his smile growing wider.

Your father was somewhere in here, shaking hands. But you could only see Boba, the man whose name you had painstakingly sewed onto your shirt. Because of course you had. You were his. He was yours. It was the easiest thing in the world.

Arms were reaching out, hands slapping him on the shoulder, and Boba smiled and nodded at everyone. But he didn’t slow his way to you. And neither did you. Determination filled you. This was your chance to make things right. To say the things you had kept to yourself when you shouldn’t have. To make sure that this new start was exactly that: A new start.

The moment you two were face to face, tears gathered in your eyes. “Boba, I am so sorry. I did things I never should have and I got influenced by my parents when I really shouldn’t have been. My father –“

A finger on your mouth silenced you.

“Not a word, omega,” he murmured, roughened hands cupping your cheeks, warm from cheering and screaming, “I know. And I don’t care. He wouldn’t dare to fire me, not now. And even if he would, I just got a dozen new job opportunities on my hands.”

“You … know?”

“I suspected,” he confirmed, “And now let me kiss you, little one.”

And then he did.

He kissed you in front of everyone, the cheering growing louder. Your eyes slipped shut and you wrapped your arms around his neck, holding yourself close to him. His lips were warm and dry and familiar. Your entire body ached for him, wanting him this close forever.

“Do you know what it means to wear someone names on their back?” he asked, his hands on your hips. Even with the crowd shifting around you, he didn’t move, holding you steady against him. “It means you’re theirs,” his mouth brushed over your scent gland.

“Oh, really?” your played-up innocence sounded way more breathless than intended. But who could blame you when you had Boba Fett with rolled up sleeved pressing up against you?

“Nah, princess,” he shook his head, voice low and eyes dark, “You don’t get to talk yourself out of this one.”

His hand was on the side of your face, gently tilting your head to the side and you sighed. “So, what are you going to do to me, then?”

“I am going to make you mine, ‘mega.”

Your heart skipped a beat with the realization of what he was saying to you. For a moment you tensed, afraid what other people would think. Public mating bites weren’t exactly uncommon but they weren’t the run of the mill either. But with everybody busy celebrating the win of the season, they might not even look at you. Most importantly, you realized that whether you wanted him to mate you was not a question at all. And once that certainty settled in your mind, any other concerns simply drifted away.

“Right here?” you asked, glancing around. No one was paying attention to you. The cup was held somewhere in the far corner of the room, you could hear another pop of a bottle of champagne. You truly were just lost in the sea of people.

“Right here,” he confirmed, “I love you, omega, and I want to put my bite right here. Do you want that? Is that – Is that what you want?”

His thumb drew a firm circle on the sensitive patch of skin right under your jaw and you swore this was what paradise felt like. Your heart was lodged somewhere in your throat and all you could do was nod, your eyes zeroing in on the mirroring spot on his neck.

“It is,” you confirmed, “And I want – I want to mark you too, alpha.”

You could watch in real time as his eyes darkened. “Fuck yes,” he growled, pulling you even closer. His nose brushed over your throat and goose bumps raised on your skin. Cheers went up in the whole room, you could hear Joe leading a chant about some other player and then Boba’s teeth sank into your throat and that was it.

A gasp was all that left you but inside, your body was screaming as everything felt like it was pulled apart and rearranged. Just … better. Like everything suddenly fit into place and the world made sense all of a sudden.  Not knowing what to do with this sensation of pure euphoria, you lunged forward, your mouth opening against his neck and biting down.

Boba groaned against you, his tongue laving over the mark on your neck, his hand cupping the back of your head. “Go on, little one,” he breathed in your ear, his voice rough, “Mark me. Show everyone I belong to you.”

You wondered if it felt the same to him. If he could feel this bond between you two now or if his life would go on as normal. When you pulled away, your eyes glossy as you took in the unmistakable mark on his throat, you got your answer in the form of his hands on your hips.

“’m afraid you cannot leave my side for the rest of the day,” he murmured in your ear, “Or else my entire body will rebel against it.”

“That’s okay,” you smiled, kissing him again, “I plan to stay there for the rest our lives.”

You had saved Din's life.

That was the short version of how you met your husband. You found the Mandalorian completely unconscious in a desert fissure near your home on Tatooine, dying of a kouhun bite, as if the universe had dropped your soulmate off for you on your doorstep for you to find him.

You figured he was a bounty hunter, by the looks of his ragged reddish brown armor, and the mere fact that he was in the middle of nowhere with army’s worth of weapons. Cautiously, you make your way down to him to see what had happened, despite your better judgment.

You kneel beside him. “Hello?” you say softly, nudging his arm.

Nothing.

You feel for a pulse on his wrist. It’s slow and weak, but it’s there — he’s fighting. So, you do what any sane person would do when encountering a helmeted and unconscious one-man army: you pull the helmet off.

Curls. Scruff. A distinctive nose. A hard jaw. He’s gorgeous.

And he is about to be dead if you don’t do something about it.

You had suspicions of what could have done this to a man who looked more than capable of defending himself. With great effort to turn the heavy man more to his side, you cautiously pull his hood down, and look down the back of his neck. Ouch! There you see the two fang marks and the garish mound of poison that swells red and yellow. It was a kouhun bite; those invasive insect bastards had been making life miserable on Tatooine for the past few decades. Their centipede crawl was silent and weightless, and could disable even the most alert of prey, as evidenced by the unconscious Mandalorian.

After a kouhun had gotten the better of a neighbor, you had carried the antidote in your bag in case of an emergency. Today was its time to be useful, so you inject the Mandalorian at the bite to quell the poison.

Still, nothing from the Mandalorian.

"Hey. Hey, hey...." you coo, shaking the man, and turning him to rest on his back. “Please don’t die. Can you hear me?”

With a loud gasp, as if he had come back from the dead, the man looks up at the sky as reality sets back in.

He rolls on top of you in a flash, pinning you down beneath him and pulling a blaster on you. "Who are you?" he grits.

You're frozen without a response. You stare up at him, lips parted, eyes wide, hair messed.

A pretty girl. A scared girl. She is not a threat — she is good, Din tells himself in a nearly uncharacteristic read of trust at the mere sight of you.

The Mandalorian puts his blaster down beside you. For a moment all that exists between you is your bodies heaving, and your gazes darting between eyes and lips. The unmistakable connection of attraction between a man and a woman is felt between you, and, after a moment, the Mandalorian sits up and places his helmet back on.

“I do not remove my helmet in front of others. No living thing can see my face,” he says darkly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know," you whisper.

The man's attention turns towards the ache at the back of his neck. He reaches for the wound and flinches when he touches it, pulling his hand back to find a mixture of blood and fluids. "What is this?" he asks you.

"You were bitten by a kouhun."

“And you gave me the antidote?” he asks.

“Yes.”

"Why?"

"You were going to die if I didn't. That would have been a shame."

The Mandalorian stands and offers you a hand to bring you up from the floor. You take it, and come to find yourself feeling small by comparison to the big armored man. "What happens now that I've seen your face?" you ask the now helmeted man.

"Well, if you had attacked me or removed my helmet by force, I would have killed you," he says honestly. "Considering you did none of that and actually saved my life... it's something for me to worry about, not you."

You nod and dust yourself off from the floor. “Thank you for not killing me, I guess."

"Thank you for saving my life."

You chuckle at his stoicism, and to your surprise, the Mandalorian suppresses a small laugh.

There was one way this could resolve itself; a spouse could be permitted to see a Mandalorian's face. Din Djarin could not say that he was intending on marrying you at that moment, but he had never felt himself this drawn to a woman, and he feels the same serendipity as you that he had somehow been struck down for you to find him and to see his true self. The Mandalorian wants to know you better, and he goes out of his way to do just that.

The rest was history. Month after month, Din Djarin would return to you after every job. You'd wait on the bluff in anticipation of the seeing the Razor Crest appear on the skyline. Your eyes would close as soon as he pulls you into an embrace, perfectly trained to anticipate him removing his helmet, and you'd receive the Mandalorian's hungry kiss.

Din knows that your feelings for him were always there from the beginning, and that they would never change. He feels it in his bones.

That is why he understands what had happened with Boba while he was gone. That’s why, when he glances over at Boba flying Slave I, with his thick thighs spread and his hands sure on the joystick, he envisions what you must have looked like on top of the daimyo, with Boba's hands gripping your hips, rocking you on his length, and throwing his head back in pleasure at the feeling of you. And, instead of making him jealous... it makes him hard.

The three of you were bound together forever. Everything was bound to explode in a night like this.

You are awoken in the middle of your slumber with Din and Boba are standing above you. You're disoriented, but once reality sets in that your men had come home from their dangerous mission, you sit up on your knees and throw your arms around the them both.

"I love you," you breathe, kissing Din's helmet, and kissing Boba's exposed cheek. "I'm so glad you're both alright."

The air is different. Their arms linger around your waist. Boba's face is overwhelmed by desire and the Mandalorian cocks his head.

Then, like a frenzy, Din's hands are roaming all over your body, and Boba's lips meet yours.

You kiss Boba fiercely and he holds you flush against his body, as if he would never let you go. How you missed him, how you missed the heat of his skin on yours, and the smell of his natural musk and aftershave filling your senses. You were the most precious thing in the world to Boba; you were carrying his child, and you were the only woman who knew him as a vulnerable man. He holds your face between his two large hands and kisses you firmly, as if trying to communicate that to you.

"How was I supposed to be near you and pretend that I don't know how you taste between those pretty legs?" Boba breathes in your ear. "Tell me, princess, could you forget that night we spent together?”

"No, I couldn't" your voice shakes.

"Enjoy yourself, sweetheart," Din says soothingly, rubbing circles on your lower back. "Just relax and let us take care of you."

You turn your body to face Din, and now support yourself on his shoulders. You wouldn't remove his helmet in front of Boba, but stars, you wished you could see his face right now. "Din..."

"Enjoy yourself," he repeats. "Don't think. Do what feels right. You're in control, if this is what you want."

You bring your head to the side of his face away from Boba, and expose a small patch of skin on his neck. You kiss it softly - a way to connect with him through his armor - and return to your position between the them.

You take your silk slip off to reveal your naked body to the two armored men. They both reach hands out for you, each of them cupping a breast. Boba unhooks his codpiece, wasting no time to be with you once more, and you reach for Din’s fly with one hand and quickly work at getting it open - you know how to free his cock from his flight suit a little too well.

They're hard. Both of them. You wrap your hands around each of them as an involuntary moan escapes your lips, and you stroke them slowly. Boba's mouth comes to your neck, and he trails down to your breast. Din cups your face with a gloved hand, and you close your eyes and lean into him, trying to ground yourself as your dream scenario unfolds.

Boba's kisses come back up to your neck, then to your lips, and he ushers you back onto the bed. You bend over and crawl up the space, making room for the ex-bounty hunters, and playfully glancing over your shoulder to entice the men to come and get you.

Din takes position up by the pillows, and Boba is fixated on your exposed rear. He reaches a hand out to cup your cheek. He then moves to your center and begins massaging you, tentatively feeling by your entrance to find how wet you had already become.

You position yourself to be facing Din and come down even further to rest on your elbows, then look up at your Mandalorian, who awaits you perfectly at ease.

"You know how I like it, sweetheart," his gravelly voice coos.

Boba cocks an eyebrow and watches with excitement to see how you’d service the Mandalorian.

Low and slow. That's how Din likes it. He's obsessed with feeling you, and you taking your time to swirl your tongue around him, to gradually work yourself lower and lower onto his shaft. It's like a delicacy to the Mandalorian to feel part of you from the inside with no barrier between you, and when he's in your mouth, he can feel how you gradually become more desperate for him.

Boba brings his face between your legs and begins to taste you. You had almost forgotten how good Boba was at coaxing pleasure from you with just his mouth, and you arch your back to encourage him. Din feels your mouth go dumb every few seconds; there were times you'd practically just stop and drool on him as Boba pleasures you, and it only makes Din throb.

"My gorgeous girl," Din groans, stroking your head as you go down on him. "Do you feel good?"

"Mmm," you hum around him.

Boba is having too much fun behind you as you bend over for him in front of the Mandalorian. You are exposed and vulnerable to him, perfect for the daimyo to throw everything he has at you to make you whine and mewl. His two thick fingers inside of you keep you only barely satisfied with something to grip on to, but you want more.

You turn around to bring yourself to sit on Din's lap, and you take Boba's cock in your hands before bringing it to your mouth. Din feels between your legs to find that you are more than ready to take him, and he lines himself up at your entrance, helping you to sink down on him.

Din thrusts into you from below. Boba was absolutely right; you can't think when you have the two men pleasuring you. You bob your head on Boba's girth and immediately feel the familiar ache of how sore your jaw would become with his size. You reach between your legs to feel your clit and allow yourself to succumb to the pleasure.

Boba was more than ready to get inside of you. You had spent so much time apart, and you're just eager to feel him again. After all, you hadn't had a chance to be intimate with him since learning he would be the father of your child, and he bends down to plant a firm kiss to your swollen lips.

You ease yourself off of Din and follow Boba to the end of the bed. Just like how Din envisioned in the cockpit, he watches you climb onto Boba, who guides your hips with large hands. The plump flesh of your bottom and thighs squish so perfectly against the hard armored man beneath you, and you slowly sink yourself down onto his length with a groan. You are a thing of softness and divinity on top of a man who appeared to be everything but that, and older man grunts as he begins takes pleasure from your body with rhythmic motions.

The Mandalorian reaches for his impossibly hard cock and begins to stroke himself, reveling at how wet you had left him. You turn from Boba to catch a glimpse of Din leaning back on the pillows, his impressive length the focal point of your desires. You clench around Boba; stars, the sight of Din like that always made you throb.

"You can't even think right now, can you, princess?" Boba teases you from below. "You just need to keep getting filled and filled, don't you?"

"Fuck, I need more, I need it harder," you groan.

Boba knows what you need. He picks you up and flips you onto your stomach. He guides your hips upwards and he thrusts into you from behind, bouncing you perfectly on his cock. When you let out a cry of satisfaction, Din and Boba let out ragged breaths of pleasure.

You come thanks to Boba's steady rhythms and intensity. You pull yourself off of him and your body quivers from exertion, from pleasure, from the intensity of it all.

Din walks over to the foot of the bed and pulls you to the edge by your ankles, gently spreading your legs apart. "Do you think you can take some more, sweetheart?"

"Yes," you breathe.

"Fuck," Din mutters, stroking you. You're wet, swollen, and practically throbbing. He slips himself inside of you once more, and you allow the Mandalorian to chase his own pleasure.

With you at the edge of the bed, they take turns thrusting inside of you. As one fucks you, the other pleasures themself at the sight of your breasts bouncing and the look of desperation. Boba is the first to come; you had encouraged him to finish inside of you, and he does just that. Din has no hesitation in getting inside of you after Boba finishes, and with a few expert motions of his thumb, he has you coming with him as he fills you right up again.

Stars, was this really all you needed to feel satisfied?

The men come on either side of you and help to bring you to the pillows to rest. Boba's nose presses into your neck. You can feel his relief to be near you again, and your hand reaches for his, which he gladly takes as your fingers brush. Din's hand comes up your body to rest on your waist, and you find that spot on his neck to give him one more kiss.

Here you were laying in bliss between Boba, who had been your rock in your darkest days, your most loyal friend, and the father of your child, and Din, your sun and your protector.

Being stuck between your two rocks... was a very hard place indeed.

Your story with Din had all the makings of the universe making sure that two people would cross each other's paths. You supposed that Boba had only come into your life because you knew Din... but as you're thinking about your past and present and where your place is, a troubling event occurs.

You jolt when Din suddenly fires a shot into the corner of the room, and Boba instinctively envelops you in a protective embrace. A kouhun, split in two, lies smoking on the floor.

"You've got to fire up the exterminator, Fett," Din grumbles, holstering his blaster.

"I will. Don't worry, princess," Boba says, with a reassuring squeeze of your thigh as he releases you. "Unfortunately, we have my father to thank for this little problem on Tatooine."

"What?" you whisper.

Kouhuns were a favorite tool of Jango Fett's; quiet, quick and deadly. "It was his stock of kouhuns that escaped and reproduced," Boba explains. "He was quite upset that he lost half of his stock on a bounty here on Tatooine. These are their descendants."

Overwhelmed by the deeper entanglement between you and these two men than you thought, you sigh and close your eyes, surrendering yourself to a peaceful sleep between your two men.

When the day started, you hadn’t meant to redecorate your apartment. It had just… happened. Sitting staring at the windows around you, you couldn’t help but decide that they needed sprucing up a little. So instead of the thick heavy curtains that you had to block out the fluorescent lights of Coruscant, you wanted to change them out for something that matched the colours of your living room a little more.

The new curtains were already waiting to be hung up. Cody had promised to do them when he returned back from meeting with General Kenobi. But, you deliberated, it would save him a job if you did it now. Cody had been working none stop, looking after both you, the men and his usual duties helping to run the 3rd System Army.

Plus, it would help with the boredom that came with just lying on the couch, leg propped up and surrounded by a mountain of pillows.

It was decided then.

You would put up the new curtains, all you had to do was get the pole down and thread on the rings that was attached to your new décor. It was an easy job, shouldn’t take more than 20 minutes, even with your bad leg. All you’d have to do was make sure that you were on a firm and stable surface.

It had all been going so well. The side table you were standing on was secure, your hip - though twinging - was doing okay. The curtains were nearly all the way on the pole when you were interrupted.

“What do you think you’re doing?” a voice cut across the room sharply.

Kriff! You barely had time to register the voice when the stool underneath you wobbled dangerously. Double kriff! Flailing your arms, you grimaced, closing your eyes tightly as you prepared to hit the floor with a rather hard bump.

However, a strong pair of arms wrapped around your waist, catching you before you could hit the ground. You were pressed against his chest, held tightly so you wouldn’t injure yourself any further. The edges of his armour was digging into you uncomfortably but you didn’t mind, knowing you were secure in his arms.

Blinking, you looked up into the beautiful golden brown orbs of your lover. “Hey love” you greeted, grimacing slightly at being caught red handed. Honestly, you hadn’t expected him to be back home for hours yet.

“You’re meant to be resting, mesh’la” he said reproachfully, putting you on your feet and guiding you back onto the couch and it’s soft pillows. As soon as you were sitting down, he fluffed the pillows around you, making sure you were comfortable.

“Cody! I am resting!” you whined, grimacing at the pain that flared in your leg.

“Helix said you should be taking it easy” Cody corrected, shaking his head as he headed towards your medication. He slipped off his armour as well until he was in his blacks, stacking the plastoid up to be cleaned later. He returned to you quickly, not wanting to leave you in pain long.

Rolling your eyes, you couldn’t help but huff. Maybe you were getting a bit of cabin fever, but that still didn’t mean you had to sit on the couch all day. “Technically he also said I should be moving around, gaining some mobility” you reminded, quickly taking the medication that he handed over to you. You didn’t want to admit it but you probably shouldn’t have been climbing on stools and hanging up new curtains.

"If you don't take it easy cyare, I'm going to have to comm Helix" Cody sighed heavily, crossing his arms over his broad chest. 

Your mouth fell open, shocked at his last resort. "You wouldn't!" You gasped dramatically, eyes glinting mischievously. You could see a matching look on your Commander's. 

"Try me!" 

"I always try you. You tell me that at least once a week" you rolled your eyes, finally relaxing against your pillows. 

Cody chuffed, smile pulling at his lips as he began to massage your feet, strong fingers pressing into your tired arches. "You're not wrong, cyare. You do like to test me" he agreed warmly, feeling contentment settle into his bones as you let out a soft groan at his touch. 

"Got to keep you on your toes, Commander" you grinned, closing your eyes and sinking into the domestic bliss that was settling in your apartment now that Cody was home. You couldn’t help but sigh as he began to massage up your leg, helping to ease some of the tension that you were carrying there.

“As long as you stay off yours” he said pointedly, lips twitching just enough to show he wasn’t truly angry with you. He just worried. A lot.

After seeing you go down by a clanker, and the scream you had let out as it had fallen on you, breaking your leg. Helix and his assistant medical officer, Slice, had spent hours working on you. Grafting bone from your hip to help repair the damage. Cody could still remember you being wheeled out of surgery, the way you looked like you were barely clinging on, monitors beeping and informing him of your vitals.

If only he had been fast enough to get to you.

Obi-Wan had tried to ease his guilt, reminding him that it was not his fault and there was no such thing as a perfect battle. But it was little comfort when he was sitting at your bedside, waiting for you to wake up.

Thankfully, the 212th was stationed on Coruscant for a couple of weeks on shore leave, while their Jedi General was needed at the Temple. It allowed you both to spend time in your apartment together and to rest and recuperate until he was shipped off to battle once more, while you stayed on planet to recover.

“What were you trying to do anyway?” Cody wondered, breaking himself out of his thoughts and turning back to see you staring at him. He looked away from your knowing gaze and back to the task in his lap.

“I was hanging up those new curtains. I thought it wouldn’t be too strenuous for me if I could stand on something secure. Honestly, I was getting a little bored of these four walls” you admitted, nudging his knee with your other foot.

The Marshal Commander frowned, brow furrowing at your answer. “I told you I would do them after I got back from the debriefing, cyare” he rebuked softly, heart aching at the thought of you hurting himself while he wasn’t here, just because he should have completed the task that you had asked him to do earlier.

“I know, I know. I just wanted to help you” you sighed, sitting up and cupping his cheek. “You’ve been working so hard, you’ve had so much stress on your plate. The war, your brothers, looking after me” you listed, staring into his umber eyes. Leaning forward, you pressed a gentle kiss to the middle of his brow, smoothing down his forehead. “I wanted to make your life just a little bit easier” you explained, running your nose against his before pulling away a little to see him once again. Your handsome, kind, caring man.

Cody’s eyes had softened as he took in your words, understanding now that you had truly just been trying to help. To help ease the weight on his shoulders. “Thank you, cyare, you’re too kind for your own good” he breathed, carefully pushing you back into the cushions beneath you as he brushed his lips against yours. He was mindful of your injuries and didn’t want to cause you any harm.

“But I’m here now. Why don’t you put me to work, huh? Only time you’ll be able to give orders to a Marshal Commander” he chuckled, sliding out from under your legs on his lap and standing up. An analysing look at the job assured him that what you had done was excellent, all he had to do was finish the job.

Scoffing, you relaxed back and admired the view of your love in his body glove. “I doubt it. You love me giving you orders” you teased, winking at him.