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importanttheoristwombat · 3 years ago

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Din Djarin: Embarrassed

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader

Summary: There is nothing to be embarrassed about in front of your riduur.

Warnings: heavy discussions of blood, allusions to sex, PERIODS, and past trauma. Swearing, marriage, I had the reader use a sanitary pad, and Din has big hands. Softness and fluff :)

A/N: here it goes, my first request!! This prompt was requested by @passionkillerphil (I’m so sorry it won’t let me tag you) and I just had to do it! I really really hope you enjoy.

original ask: And what he'd be like taking care of you when you're on your period or really sick 🥺❤️❤️

If you’d like to leave a like, comment, reblog, or ask, it would be greatly appreciated <3

Din/Javi Masterlist

(gif gotten from Pinterest)

What should have been a relaxing, refreshing morning, turned out to be anything but.

You woke up later than usual, for once allowing your aching body to enjoy the simple pleasure of sleeping in, and to make things even more blissful, you were pressed against the warm body of your Mandalorian. You snuggled deeper into his back, rubbing your face against the smooth cotton of his shirt.

Your blankets were wrapped around you like a heated cocoon, and the slowly rising sun had not yet started coming through the Crest windows. A black-ish grey still surrounded you, and the kid was not even due to wake for another few hours.

You practically purred at just how perfect it all was. The peace, the quiet, and the relief all rolled into one hazy heaven. The two of you needed—no, deserved— a day to just sleep against the other, coated in each other’s scents and kisses and skin.

A day to just be. Be in love, be together, and be free of any pain or suffering.

You pressed a faint kiss to your riduur’s clothed back, and tried to scoot yourself impossibly closer to him. You moved your hips over, rubbing your navel onto his lower back, and that’s when you felt it.

A gush of lukewarm, sticky liquid hit your thighs, and your eyes shot open.

Fuck.

Your body froze, and you worked your hand down to your underwear. You felt the soaking fabric, and to make matters worse, the sheets were damp as well.

Fuck Fuck Fuck

Your eyes squeezed shut in anger, and your nose crinkled as well. A thin layer of sweat coated your legs and back, and your heart dropped down to your stomach.

Heat flooded your cheeks, and your mind started to race a mile a minute.

What the fuck do I do?

Din knew what a period was. Of course he knew what a period was. He was always incredibly patient with you and did everything he could to make you feel better when you felt extra bloated and cranky.

He’d just never…seen it this badly. And you definitely had never leaked that much in bed before.

You hated to admit it, but embarrassment and shame were the main emotions bouncing around your brain. You knew what your sweet, understanding, incomparable husband would whisper into your ear when he saw the bright red stain. You knew he’d not see it as a big deal, and his dark brown eyes wouldn’t leave yours until you acknowledged that as well

It didn’t make you feel any less self-conscious, though.

You knew you’d have to wash yourself up in the fresher, and you knew that Din would feel your body heat leave his as soon as you started moving. And you couldn’t just…leave him there, practically lounging in your blood.

So you laid in bed. Heart pounding. As Din softly snored beside you.

Finally, after a beat of consideration, you hopped out of bed as discretely and quickly as possible, barely even moving the covers. You made sure to tip-toe across the cold floor to the fresher in practically a sprint, and you tore your clothes off. You cranked the water up to as hot as it could go, and tossed your shorts and underwear in the trash.

There was no point in even trying to save them.

You hopped in the shower, and scrubbed your body with soap and water. Your muscles were already beginning to ache from the cramps, and a small headache was growing in front of your eyes. You didn’t know if it was from the period, or from all the anxiety you still had about facing Din, but the warm water worked wonders. Small breaths of relief left your nose as you rinsed your body clean.

You only stayed in there for a few minutes, before you dried yourself off and changed into different pants. You made sure your hair was dry as well, and added a sanitary pad to your underwear.

You stared at the door, feeling your beating heart underneath your chest.

What was wrong with you?

This is Din we are talking about. Your Din. The man who couldn’t leave the kid behind. The man who never hesitated to look people in the eye and say “thank you.” The man who was never afraid of your demons, or your anxieties, or your past. He confronted them head on, without an ounce of hesitation.

The man who had given you his first kiss, his first time, and his first promise. The day you married, he vowed to stay true to you, in sickness and in health, in wealth or poverty, and most of all, he promised to always come home to you.

So far, he has kept all of those promises. And more.

Din, with all his little quirks. He blushes — blushes — when you peck the tip of his nose. He demands to pressed against you as he falls asleep, because he “can’t possibly relax when his riduur isn’t next to him.” He loves sugar in his coffee. He loves long, steaming bubble baths.

And the scary, infamous Mandalorian, is a dog lover.

He cannot stay away from a mastiff, running and panting around Tattooine. He always gives the creature a belly rub, and he somehow has the ability to make them fall on their backs with happiness from his touch alone.

Your soft, beautiful Din, wouldn’t judge you for this.

So why did you feel so insecure?

You looked at yourself in the mirror, wrapping your hands around the edge of the grey sink, and took a deep breath.

Relax Y/N, you heard the ghost of Din’s breath whisper in your ear.

Relax for me.

You can do this.

You looked at yourself one more time, and walked out the fresher door.

The smell of fresh linen was what hit you first.

The entire space felt…cleaner. Cleansed. Airy. You could see the bed you shared with Din from the fresher doorway, and the wrinkled, charcoal sheets from that morning had been pulled away. Instead, an ivory, off-white set had been laid over the twin bed frame.

He…cleaned it up?

You started to make your way over to the bed, but a set of heavy boots echoed from behind you, and you turned to see Din fully dressed in his beskar, minus the helmet he held in his hands.

“Cyar’ika?”

Your stomach plummeted.

He still had his messy, frizzy bed head, but the rest of his body was sleek and shiny from his sheathing. His cape flowed behind him, and his broad frame was accentuated even more from the chest-plate he always wore. His pulse blaster was attached to his back, and belt was fastened around his cinched waist.

All that armor, money, power, was oozing and dripping off of him…

….but yet, his brown eyes were still soft, his forehead was creased in worry, and he was picking at the skin around his fingers.

If you could describe Din in an image, it would be that one. Literally wrapped in skill and dominance, but oblivious to it all at the sight of you.

Maker

“Din,” you breathed.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, and set his helmet down near his feet.

You didn’t even know what to say.

“I—“ you began. “Isn’t it obvious?”

His head tilted to the side, a move he would make constantly under the helmet.

“Tell me,” he said huskily.

“Well….I bled. Everywhere.”

A tinge of worry faded away from Din’s face.

“And I— I should have been the one to clean it up,” you said. “It was my fault. My mess. And you shouldn’t— you do too much around here anyways, let alone with me bleeding everywhere.”

He continued to listen to your proclamation, but he walked over to your shared bed, and sat, leaning on his elbows to listen to you.

“And I just feel….I feel embarrassed. I know I shouldn’t, because I know you wouldn’t judge me or—or think I’m gross. I know you wouldn’t. But I still feel bad. Really bad. Like I can’t even take care of myself, or that my—period—is some sort of issue. I just—I should have been the one to clean it up.”

You brought your right hand to your chin, trying to calm your pulsing emotions.

“I’m so sorry Din. I hope that I didn’t—scare you, or make you think that I was hurt. Or maybe I did disgust you. Maybe I’m a really shitty person to leave my sleeping husband laying in a puddle of my blood. There shouldn’t have even been a puddle of blood in the first place.”

A single year dripped down to your lips, and you licked it away. Din’s honey-toned eyes stayed connected to yours.

“I feel—“ you whispered. “I just feel really shitty.”

The tears were flowing now, and embarrassment coated your irises even more.

Din kept his elbows on his knees, adamantly and patiently waiting for you to get it all off your chest, before he gave you a delicate smile, and set his hands on the edge of the bed.

“Come here,” he said, tilting his chin towards his shoulder.

You stood there, unable to move.

“Come here,” he said, and patted his thigh. “Please.”

You nodded, licking your lips once again, and shuffled your way over to him. He held out his arms for you, and you sat yourself on his lap. Never losing eye contact.

He connected his forehead to yours, breathing in your soap and freshly washed skin, before he started peeling his leather gloves off.

“Manda’ner,” he mumbled. So softly you could hear your own breaths. “Please don’t apologize.”

He moved his hands under your shirt, and started pressing lightly on the muscles on your lower back.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he whispered breathily, and massaged his hands into your back, pressing kisses on the side of your mouth as he did it.

Your eyes rolled at just how intimate and lovely this moment was, and Din always had a way with his hands.

The deep jolts of pleasure made your brain short-circuit.

You whimpered a bit when he started pressing harder, and he followed those sounds as best he could, pressing and molding your skin against his large hands.

“There?” he asked.

“More to the front,” you replied, and he kissed your cheek again, letting his breath coat your face. His scruff hadn’t been shaved in a few days, and the prickly tease of it erupted chills all over you. Another moan escaped you, and Din groaned with you.

He moved his warm hands to the front of your body, pressing right over where the cramps were beginning to burn, and you became putty in his hands.

He made every shred of guilt or shame melt off your body, and he allowed relief and peace to enter instead. Just from this small gesture.

You really loved him.

After a few minutes, he pressed one last firm stroke of his hand onto your lower stomach muscles, and he pecked your lips.

“Better?” he asked.

“Better,” you said, kissing him again.

“I wanted to clean it up,” he said to you. “I want to help you. I want to take some of the burden of this fucking painful experience off of you.”

You smiled, swallowing the lump of adoration in your throat.

“I’m not going to pretend I enjoy seeing your blood, because if I see your blood, it means that you are in pain.”

He brushed your cheek with his naked palm as he spoke.

“I don’t like when my riduur in pain.”

Your eyes rolled again, and you pressed your face into his silky palm.

“So I will help,” he said. “And I will never find you gross.”

Tears of joy started to mist across your eyes, and you kissed the crown of his hand.

“Thank you,” you whispered, letting tears escape.

He wanted to say “you don’t have to thank me.” He wanted to tell you—show you— that he would crawl on hands and knees for you to look at him like this, and that a “thank you” was never needed.

But he also knew you.

“You’re welcome,” he responded, and kissed you again.

He was the first to pull away, and he smiled when you rubbed your nose against his.

“I’ve gotta go,” he said.

You nodded, and pecked his nose. The faint blush you knew all too well flickered over his cheeks, and you both laughed. Giddy, care free, and in love.

“I’ll be back soon,” he said, and helped sit you back down on the bed. He moved back towards his helmet, and fixed it on his head.

“Get some rest for me, ok?” he said, carving your jawline with his now covered hand. His voice sounded foreign under the modulator, but the sound of it still made your heart flutter after so long.

“I will,” you promised, and he nodded.

“I love you,” he said, and began to back away.

“I love you,” you responded, and he disappeared around the corner.

A gentle comfort coated you, and you let yourself crawl back under the covers, unable to wipe the smile off of your face. You pressed yourself against the back of the bed, and exhaled all of the anxiety you had been holding.

“Oh,” you heard from behind the wall, “one more thing.”

The gurgle of the child echoed across the metal ship, and an even bigger smile came to your face.

Din came back around the corner, holding the still half-asleep Grogu in the crease of his elbow, and you wrinkled your nose in delight.

“I think he wants you,” Din said, and you laughed.

“Hi baby, good morning,” you said to the child, and Din handed him over to you. He immediately embedded himself into your warm shirt, and went limp in your arms only a second later.

You smiled up at Din, and if he could have that image of you holding a sleeping Grogu in your arms, comfortable and happy in his bed, burned into his mind, he would.

He exhaled, desperately wanting to stay with his home, before he connected his helmet visor with your forehead.

“I love you Y/N. I’ll see you soon,” he said, and you pecked where his lips would be.

“I love you, Din,” you said, and he forced himself away from you.

You curled up with the child, listening to the sounds of Din lower the walkway, and the beat of his boots as they hit against the metal, and you began to drift off as the metal closed in on itself. Proving that he had officially left the Crest.

You let yourself succumb to sleep, knowing he would return home to you.

He promised.

Tag list: (I apologize if your tag isn’t working, or I somehow missed you. Please let me know if you’d like to be added!)

@leahkenobi @writerlyhabits @burned-dorito @tiredbuthappy @em---r @just-a-sewer-goblin @martinsmomo @letaliabane @cathenan @big-ol-boat @niiight-dreamerr @jezebel1945 @call-me-doll-face @yelyahcardella @letskeepthislo-ki @misspearly1 @petals-opento-the-moon @lovesbiggerthanpride @darth-voder @samanthacookieone @torchbearerkyle

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