#din djarin fanfiction

[beskarandblasters]

Packin’ (In More Ways Than One)

Din Djarin x GN!Reader

Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist

Author’s note: This is inspired by this HOT art by @cass-hues 🍑🔥 Unfortunately, I do not know who made this gif so if that’s you or someone you know, don’t hesitate to inform me and I’ll give credit where it’s due! Thank you to @freelancearsonist for beta reading! 🤍🤍

Summary: You see Din’s bare ass for the first time and get the urge to peg him.

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: canon divergent (long live the Razor Crest), reader is able-bodied and has no physical description/no genitalia mentioned, anal fingering, sex toys, lube, pegging, praising, pet names (cyar’ika), sonic = shower, refresher = bathroom, no use of y/n

“You’re really going to shower with that bucket on your head?”

Din’s leaning against the doorway of the refresher with a towel sitting low on his hips. He just captured a bounty on Coruscant where it’s currently raining, a downpour that chilled Din to his bones. You suggested that a hop in the sonic would warm him up. But you didn’t expect to see him stripped bare of everything besides his helmet. 

“Yes,” he says plainly. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing! …You just look a little funny right now, that’s all.” 

“Funny?” he asks, turning and walking to the mirror. But as he walks his towel drops to the floor and you’re met with the sight of his bare ass. And Maker, it is juicy. You had no idea he was hiding that underneath his cape and his flight suit. 

“Oh my-”

“Sorry!” he says, hastily grabbing the towel and wrapping it around his waist.

“You’re sorry?”

“I didn’t mean to… expose myself like that.”

“I didn’t mind.” 

“Really?”

“But I am a little mad at you right now.”

“Why??”

“You didn’t tell me you were packin’… in more ways than one,” you say, walking and standing beside him in the mirror. 

“Oh… You mean my… behind?” 

“Yes, silly,” you chuckle, running your hand over his ass with the towel in between you two. He tenses up at the motion and you’re just now realizing that he’s probably never had his ass appreciated like this before. He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he lets you feel up his ass while the towel hangs dangerously low around his hips. 

“Is it weird I want to peg you?”

“No,” he says quickly. 

“No as in…?”

“No, it’s not weird.” 

“Oh,” you say, your eyes widening. “Should I… go to the store?”

“Yes,” he says, without hesitation. 

“Alright, I’ll be back,” you chuckle, grabbing your bag and lowering the exit ramp of the Crest. 

You think of where the nearest sex shop might be and quickly decide that lower levels are your best bet. The rain has thankfully subsided, leaving puddles in the street for neon lights to reflect off of. You cruise the streets, searching for the perfect place until you happen upon a goldmine; Nova’s Novelties. 

The door opens and you step inside, immediately overwhelmed by the sheer volume of sex toys occupying the shelves and walls. There’s a counter in the back where the register is. A woman is there and you can only assume that’s Nova, a beautiful woman with an inviting aura. She makes buying sex toys seem less intimidating. 

“Welcome!” she says, motioning for you to come over. “What brings you in tonight?”

“I’m looking for… a strap-on.”

“You’ve come to the right place,” she smiles, stepping out from behind the counter. “Follow me.”

She brings you to a shelf where there’s a strap on of every size and color, all encased in clear packaging. A silver one catches your eye. 

That’ll match his armor, you think to yourself, stifling a giggle. 

“What do you recommend for a beginner?” 

She reaches and grabs a modest looking one, bright pink in color. 

“This one is great for beginners. Not too big, not too small. And it comes with an adjustable strap.” 

“Thanks!” you say, taking the box from her. “Does it come in any other colors?”

“What were you thinking?”

“…Silver.” 

“You have great taste. Let me check the back.” 

She heads to the back room while you take time to explore the rest of the selection, opting for a bottle of lube, too. Once she emerges with the silver dildo in hand, you check out, handing her a fistful of credits and heading back to the Crest. 

“Have fun!” she says with a suggestive smile just before you step out onto the street. 

As you walk back to the docking yard, you think about Din, waiting for you like such a good boy. You think about the trust he places in you, letting you see him without his armor or his fight suit on and the trust he has to let you do something like this… It’s a testament of your love. 

When you get back in the Crest you find Din, standing in the doorway of the refresher with droplets of water peppered on his skin with steam wafting into the hull from the sonic. His bulge pitches a tent in his towel. You can’t believe your eyes, gawking at how gorgeous he looks. It’s almost criminal he keeps all of this locked away under his armor and it blows your mind that this is the first time you’re seeing him like this. 

“Did you find something?” 

“You bet I did,” you smirk. You take off your bag and hang it on a hook, reaching for the strap-on and the lube. You hold it out in front of you and think about his face underneath the helmet, wondering if he clocked how the dildo matches his armor. 

“You like?” you ask. 

“I do.”

“Good…” you say, stepping closer to him and placing a hand on his chest. His skin is warm, still slightly damp from the sonic. “Now be a good boy and get in the bunk for me.”

“Yes, cyar’ika,” he says, dropping his towel and walking across the hull to the bunk. 

He gets on all fours on the bed while you shed your clothes and take the strap out of the packaging, setting it on the edge of the bunk because you’re not ready for it just yet. 

“Are you gonna be a good boy for me?” you say, kneeling behind him and cupping his ass. 

“Y-Yes, I promise.” 

“Don’t worry,” you giggle, “I’ll go nice and slow at first.” 

You squeeze lube onto your index finger, coating his hole with it and teasing it lightly. He lets out a small whimper in response, already aching for more. 

“What was that?”

“I… want it… already.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” you say, sliding your finger in. 

His breath hitches before he exhales with a moan while you slowly work his hole. You curl your finger while your other hand caresses his ass. 

“More,” he softly begs. 

“Be patient,” you coo. 

He sighs, resting his helmet down on the pillow and sticking his ass up higher. Never in a million years did you think you’d have Din in a face-down ass-up position and yet here you are, enjoying every minute of it. 

You pull your hand from his ass and add lube to your middle finger, pushing both back inside simultaneously. A deeper, guttural moan forces its way out of his throat as he melts into the cot faster than a block of ice on Tatooine. 

“Good boy,” you praise, pushing your fingers against his prostate. “But I’m far from done with you.”

“I know,” he whimpers. 

You feel his hole relax around your fingers and a slew of whispers and Mando’a curse words slip out from under the helmet. 

“Cyar’ika, I’m gonna cum.”

“Oh yeah? Let me feel it.” 

He cums around your fingers, a different kind of orgasm he’s never experienced before. His thighs shake beneath him as he rides out his high. 

“Such a good boy for me,” you praise, slowing the movement of your fingers to a stop. You pull them from his ass and get off the bed, putting on the harness and attaching the strap. “But are you ready for more?” 

“Yes,” he sputters, staying in the same face-down ass-up position for you. 

You walk to the front end of the bed, crouching down by his helmet and telling him, “You’re doing so well, baby, coming for me like that.” 

“I am?”

“Mhm,” you whisper, rubbing his back. He shudders at your touch, eliciting a giggle from you. 

“You’re so sensitive right now, aren’t you?” 

“Yes,” he sighs. 

“It’s almost over,” you remind him, taking your rightful position by his ass again. 

You spread lube onto the strap and align it with his hole, one hand holding his hip as you thrust into him slowly. He lets out another string of curse words in Mando’a. It’s unintelligible but it’s a sign of how good he feels. 

“You like that?” you chuckle. 

“Yes. So much, cyar’ika,” he moans, just as you draw your hips back and thrust into him again. You put your other hand on his hip, holding onto him as you thrust in and out, working him up to his impending orgasm. His moans, grunts, and whimpers are melodic, like music to your ears. It fills you with a deep sense of pride that you can reduce your big strong Mandalorian to a whimpering mess with just your fingers and a strap. 

“Cyar’ika?” he whines. 

“Yes?” you smirk. 

“I’m gonna-”

“Gonna cum again?”

“Y-Yes.” 

“Do it,” you command, making sure your pace never falters. 

Another moan escapes his throat, slipping out from under his helmet in his beautiful, modulated tone. His whole body shakes with pleasure, quivering as you fuck him through his high, being sure to slow down slightly to not overstimulate him. 

Once he’s done you pull out of him, letting him collapse onto the bunk. Aftershocks of his orgasm make him quiver here and there, his ass shaking with each involuntary movement. You giggle watching him rest peacefully after you just fucked the living daylights out of him. 

You crouch down and whisper, “Looks like you need to hop in the sonic again.” 

“I know,” he groans. 

“I’ll join you.”

“Let’s go,” he says, shooting up and heading to the refresher. He has that specific walk about him, the kind where you walk side to side after a good dicking down. It looks good on him, you decide.  

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics

Dividers: @saradika-graphics

[orcasoul]

Din Djarin Headcanons:

Touch starved Din

A/N: Our poor tin can man is so deprived of human touch it breaks my heart. He deserves some love and affection xxx

It started so unexpectedly. The odd, accidental brush of an arm or leg while passing each other in the confined areas of the Razor Crest, the delicate meeting of fingertips when passing Grogu back and forth, the playful shove you would give him when he accidentally startles you as he quietly approaches from behind. He'd spent most of his life honing his skills as a Mandalorian, and after years of stealthily hunting people down, approaching quietly is second nature to Din.

He doesn't do it on purpose, but if it means more personal contact with you, then it's definitely worth it. Din can't remember the last time someone had touched him - not counting the physical altercations with bounties or enemies - until you came along. He hadn't realised just how much he needed the soothing tenderness of your touch, something warm and natural.

It had awakened a deep and dormant longing within him, and he'd noticed that the more comfortable you became around him, the more intimate those moments became. Weather it be his hand finding the small of your back in crowded places, or your hand, gently squeezing his shoulder when you bid him goodnight. Din had come to yearn for your touch.

Even through the worn leather of his gloves and the thickness of his flight suit, the warmth of your being would find it's way into his pores, spreading throughout his limbs and filling him with a sense of serenity he rarely experienced. You are like a drug to him. The more he has, the more he wants, needs, craves!

That's why when the faulty wires he was fiddling with zapped him and burned through his glove, he made no attempt to stop you as you removed his glove to inspect the burn. Din's breath gets stuck in his chest as his brain registers the feel of your skin against his for the first time.

Your hands are soft, so soft, skin like velvet, holding his much larger and calloused hand so delicately while applying a bacta patch over the charred area. Thank the maker for his helmet, lest you see how his eyes slowly close in contentment at your attentive ministrations. How can just a simple touch have such an affect on him?

But then again, it's not just a simple touch, it's your touch. Something sacred to him, something that is uniquely you in every way. It grounds him, unsettles him, calms him, frightens him all at once. He can't make any sense of it. Din's eyes open at the sensation of your fingers slipping inside his open palm and your thumb, slowly and ever so lightly caressing the back of his hand, a 'There all better,' whispered lovingly.

That's when he sees it. The longing in your eyes, the small smile that tugs at the corner of your mouth while you maintain a gentle grip of his hand. Maybe you need to feel him too? There's very little Din knows about your past, never pushing for more information than you're willing to divulge. But from what he's been able to piece together, it hasn't been a happy one, and maybe all this time you've been longing for human contact as much as he has.

Din's heart thumps against his rib cage, uncertainty taking root in the pit of his stomach. This is new territory for you both. There is an undeniable shift in the air, thrumming with anticipation. Your other hand reaches for his still gloved one, bringing it to rest next to the other already in your lap, eyes asking a silent 'can I?'

Din swallows thickly, answering with a slow nod. With a reassuring smile, you pull off the remaining glove and place it by your feet. He tries his best to control his nerves as your soft palms and slender fingers continue to explore his hands, tracing over scars that stand out slightly paler against the rich tan of his skin.

Without even realising it, his hands have begun to stroke yours. He marvels at how much smaller they are than his, so delicate looking, fitting so perfectly inside his own. He languidly slides his hands along your wrists and up to your elbows, his entire body alive with electricity and want. Your closed eyes and faint sigh is enough of an indicator for him to continue.

His fingers tremble, slightly as he works his way up to your forearms, then to your shoulders, stopping at the base of your neck. Your next move almost causes Din's heart to stop, as you calmly take a hold of both of his hands and bring them to cup your cheeks, leaning your face to the side so your lips are brushing against his fingers. He could die right now and he'd be a happy man!

He wants you to know how much you've come to mean to him, but words were never his strong point, so he'll show you instead. With a feather light hold on your face he gingerly pulls you to met him halfway as he lowers his helmet, bringing his forehead to rest against yours.

Din had once explained what this gesture means in Mandalorian culture, and the fact that you are now returning that gesture confirms what he had begun to hope; That you want him as much as he wants you. Foreheads still joined together, Din whispers "My Cyare."

[kyberblade]

Back To You (Din x Reader) - Epilogue Sneak Peek!

Yes.

Tis I.

Emerging from the depths once again to offer you a tidbit, a morsel, and then yeet back to the darkness from which I came.

It was at that point you noticed Peli’s face.

Her very, very, very distraught face.

Following her line of sight, your eyes went wide as you took in the Crest over your shoulder. Sparks flew, singe marks lined the hull. Did I do that?

A poor little astromech Peli had just acquired was trying to tune up something near the ramp of the ship, and Din, once he turned to survey the damage for himself, spying an unfamiliar droid linking into his ship, let his spear loose without a second thought.

If you hadn't had the mind to divert it midair with the Force right before impact, the droid would be a pile of steaming wires right now instead of a trembling pile of bolts.

The screech of terror it let out as the spear made impact right above its head made you want to laugh, but you stifled it into your hand, turning a disapproving glare on Din when he asked why you did that.

“We don’t murder innocent droids.”

“No droid is innocent,” he grumbled, looking over at the scrappy little astro unit.

“They are until proven guilty.”

“I don’t need any proof,” Din mumbled. “Have all the proof I need.”

“You have nothing.”

Before he could say anything else, the angry mech was rolling toward the bounty hunter with an electrified arm ready to zap him, but you held it at bay with the Force. You also held Din back, snorting when he turned a look on you.

“No.”

[ddejavvu]

grumpy beefy mando falling for soft!reader in her “grandma era” - all she wants to do is crochet, bake and frolic around the galaxy with mando and grogu 🫶🏽

"He doesn't like hats."

You glance up at Din from where you're testing a length of crocheted stitches beneath Grogu's chin, ensuring that the hat inspired by the local flora of the forest planet you've found shelter on won't fall off if he gets too rigorous in his play.

Grogu coos beneath the flower hat, but whether it's in agreement or protest you can't tell.

"He likes this one," You decide, when the little green terror before you doesn't fight as you maneuver his ears through their designated slots, "And he doesn't have to wear it if he doesn't want to."

Your fingers slip the little white button through the slot you've left in the band, and the hat is secured around Grogu's chin; the cutest little flower you ever did see.

"Oh, honey," You gush, scooping the child up and tucking him into your arms, "You wanna see your hat? C'mere, let's look."

You crouch in front of the tree stump that Din has settled on, holding Grogu up to the man's beskar chest plate. It's freshly polished, but not completely reflective, so at the right angle, Grogu catches a blurry, slightly distorted version of himself in a very pink hat.

His legs are still too small to kick in excitement, but his arms pick up the slack, flapping about while copious amounts of baby babble streams from his mouth. Evidently he's pleased with your handiwork.

Din stays silent while he offers his armor up for Grogu's viewing pleasure, but the child's hands soon find the soft strap beneath his chin and tug.

"I told you he didn't like hats..." Din murmurs, not to be cruel, but to fill empty space in the air when your shoulders deflate slightly.

"I thought he'd like it if it was softer," You hum sadly, helping Grogu take the button out of its clasp so that he can tug the hat off of his head, "I just figured he didn't like the helmet you gave him because it was uncomfortable."

As soon as you've freed Grogu from the confines of his flowery prison his hands slap against the shiny metal of Din's armor. He takes the child out of your hands but Grogu keeps his hat tightly clutched in his fist, and, with valiant effort, pushes the hat into Din's helmet, insistently cooing something that sounds suspiciously like buir.

Your giddiness returns, and you circle Din like a hawk, "Oh, you want your buir to wear it? Let's see," Amidst Din's protests you balance the too-small cap on his helmet, and he stills if only to save the hat from slipping and dying a muddy death on the ground below.

"It doesn't fit me." He grumbles, body stiff as he keeps it balanced on his head. Grogu seems pleased with his buir's new headpiece, squealing and showing off his newly-emerged teeth in a grin.

"I'll make you a matching one!" You declare, snatching the hat off of his helmet to give him the freedom of movement again, "Grogu, baby, what color should Din's be?"

"Bah!" Grogu decides, and your steps still where you're racing back towards your shelter.

"Uh... how about purple?" You suggest, and another resounding 'Bah.' is all the encouragement you need.

[bits-and-babs]

I imagine Mando is a virgin, do to his cult/religion.

What if fem/afab reader is Mando's partner on something and Din finds himself staring at their ass, their face, anything.

Reader notices and decides to lead Din through his first time?

𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐊𝐀𝐑 — 𝐃𝐈𝐍 𝐃𝐉𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍

» PAIRING : The Mandalorian x F!Reader

» CONTENTS : exhibitionism, masturbation, p in v sex, unprotected sex (I can hear you all screaming from here, I KNOW), cute, shy Mando. 18+ you N A S T I E S.

» DIN MASTERLIST : here || MAIN MASTERLIST : here

It’s so fucking quiet on the Razor Crest.

The Mandalorian had been suspiciously silent for the majority of your trip to Theed— made even worse by the knowledge that it was such a long journey. He had spent most of his time in the cockpit of the ship, pretending to be preoccupied with the coordinates that he hadn’t changed since setting off.

You didn’t think anything of it at first. The long drags of The Mandalorian's eyes that you could feel pull across your form, settling on your ass like a tractor beam had them glued to you. Of course, you’d just explained it away with exhaustion. For a moment, you even considered that you’d been afflicted with Hyper-Rapture, imagining things that weren’t there, inventing the gaze you felt skirting over your form.

No, you don’t think anything of it at all. Not until you walk into the cockpit of the Razor Crest one evening to find The Mandalorian thrusting into his palm and quietly whimpering out your name.

Mando hadn’t seen you, spilling into his palm and wheezing as though he’d been shot by a blaster in the side. His cum had run down the knuckles of his fingers, the two-tone gloves he consistently wore hanging off the controls.

Stars, you couldn’t shake the image from your minds-eye, nor could you ignore the echo of your whimpered name when you close your eyes at night.

It’s late. Mando has managed to settle the rambunctious Child into his cot, gently laying him amongst the blankets and closing the lid. It hisses softly, the mechanics locking with a quiet ‘click’.

You can hear his boots clang across the durasteel flooring, each footstep pronounced. Heat swallows your face as you stare at the Aurebesh lettering in your book, the lines all blurring into one when you feel him approach you.

Your name rings in your ears.

“He’s asleep,” Mando speaks softly, his husky tone soothing in its quiet volume. Looking up at him through your lashes, you carefully close the book you had pretended to preoccupy yourself with. Mando’s visor stares down at you blankly, an immovable object that makes your hands shake when you reach for him.

“… That’s perfect,” you whisper, voice cracking slightly when your palms touch the flight suit beneath the lip of his breastplate. You can feel his body flinch, his hip bones soft beneath the canvas.

“H-Hey,” he says cautiously, shocked by the sudden contact. You rub gentle circles with your thumb, chewing on the inside of your cheek in an attempt to ease your thumping heart.

“I heard you,” you break it to him gently, watching his body stiffen at your admission, “Why did you hide it from me?”

Mando doesn’t respond, your touch having stolen the breath from his lungs. He shudders, his cock hard already beneath the fabric of his suit. You see it twitch, responsive to your light touch.

You smile to yourself, careful as you unclip his utility belt.

“I can give you what you want?”

You insist upon fucking him in the pilot seat. Mando implores you to allow him to keep his armour on. Of course, you concede. This is outside of his comfort zone; he would want to cling to what makes him comfortable.

Straddling his lap, you feel the sting of cold from his tassets bite into the naked flesh of your thighs. The head of his cock rests against your clit, and your muscles buzz with a mixture of arousal and anticipation. You’re drunk on it, high on it.

“I haven’t-“ Mando speaks, his voice catching in his throat when you dip his cock through your soaking folds. It’s like he short circuits, choking on a thick syllable.

“Mhm?” You hum softly. You’ve taken control, your experience making it easier for Mando to relax into you. He leans forward, pressing the cold Beskar of his helmet against your collarbone.

“I haven’t… Done this,” he admits to you, his tone reserved- shy. Mando’s breath hitches in his chest when you settle the head of his cock against your entrance. He sinks inside you ever so slightly, a groan rattling his lungs at the promise of tight, wet heat.

“I know,” you whisper softly, easing down onto his length as you soothe him. Mando’s back arches against the leather of the pilot seat, a choked moan of your name escaping him— not unlike the ones you heard when you caught him fucking his hand.

You don’t move, your walls fluttering around the stretch of him in your cunt. Mando is choking back curses, his hands gripping the curve of your ass and burying his fingertips into the soft flesh there.

“Oh, fu-ughh- so tight-'' he rambles, pitchy in tone as you bury him to the hilt. He’s touching the deepest parts of you, so thick and long that you’re sure you can feel him settle amongst your lungs.

It’s immediately apparent that Mando won’t last long. His thighs are trembling, cock twitching inside you despite your lack of movement. You don’t mind. This isn’t about you.

“Does it feel good?” You check in with him, smoothing your palms down the reflective surface of his breastplate. Your body heat is so high that the chilled metal clouds with condensation the moment your skin rests against it.

“So fucking tight- Maker-“ he gasps in response to you squeezing around him. “I’m-I’m gonna cum-“

Delicately, you lean your head down to press a kiss to the slither of skin exposed between the neckline of his flight suit and his helmet. You follow it up with a long, slow drag of your tongue.

Mando cums with a haggard groan, his whole body shuddering with the intensity of it. His head drops back against the headrest of the seat, chest heaving as he sucks in laboured breaths. Your flesh aches slightly from the tight grip he holds.

“S-Stars-“

It makes you smile, because you’re sure he sees them dancing behind his eyelids.

END

[noisynaia]

Hey! I really love your Mando fics. Can I request something where the reader is traveling with Din and Grogu on the crest (could be Grogu's babysitter or something) and Din has a huge crush on her and seeing how much she loves grogu makes him want to confess his feelings. Just some nice Mando fluff, can be sfw or nsfw, whatever you feel like. 💕

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐝𝐲

Thank you for the request! I had so much fun writing this ♡

word count: 5.7k 

pairing: Din Djarin x afab!reader 

note: Explicit (18+). Smut and fluff. Thigh riding, unprotected P in V (with use of contraception), creampie. Love confessions. The helmet comes off. The Razor Crest lives. No use of (y/n). This has not been beta nor proof read and English is not my native language.

Din’s heart skips a beat at the sight of you. He has tried to fight the feelings he has developed for you, convinced himself that his feelings aren’t truly as deep cutting as they feel. Tried to be content with the time you would spend with him and Grogu before you eventually would move on and he’d be left with the memories and the fantasies of how it would have been if you had really been his. The sight of you and Grogu is almost too much for him, and it makes it very hard for him to not just give up everything and tell you how you make him feel. Your features are highlighted by the silvery moon light that is shining down from the night sky.

You are beautiful.

Din had thought so from the moment he first saw you. But now, after you have travelled with him and Grogu for almost a year and he has gotten to know you, really know you, ‘beautiful’ simply doesn’t cut it anymore. The word in basic is feeling too banal, too trivial, to describe the true beauty of your being. You are the most beautiful person Din has ever known and he is confirmed in this by you every day. 

The way you smile up at him when you walk side by side in a crowded market when you’re on supply runs, always insisting on finding a treat or a new toy for Grogu. The way you always greet Din so happily when he comes back from a hunt, like you truly are happy to see him again, like you have actually missed him… How you will always make sure he is okay and hasn’t been hurt, and how you will insist on helping patch him up on the occasions he is. The feeling of your soft hands delicately placing a bacta patch on his bare shoulder a few weeks ago is still burnt into his skin… The way you take such good care of his son, you look at Grogu like he is the one who hung every moon and every star in the galaxy. The kindness and beauty of your soul is truly bewitching. Maybe that is why he started calling you mesh’la. 

The first time it had just slipped out. It was a couple of months ago. He had come back from a hunt late at night, tired and muddy. For a short moment, Din had felt like all the air had been knocked out of his lungs by the sight he had found. There you were, so lovely, so beautiful, fast asleep on his bunk with a sleeping Grogu curled up beside you, his little green fist closed around one of your fingers.  

Din’s heart had yearned by the sight. The feelings you and Grogu are bringing to him are new territory for Din. He has never wanted anything like this before, or at least never let himself admit that he does. But you and Grogu make it impossible for Din to keep lying to himself. The kid is under his care, under his protection, and from the moment he chose the armour instead of the sabre and came back to Din, his ad'ika. Din and Grogu are a clan. A clan of two. A clan that Din  wishes was a clan of three. 

He had been quiet when he started  to walk off to the cockpit, something he usually was good at, but you had stirred awake anyway, like your sleeping subconscious had felt his presence. You lifted your head from the pillow, sleepily blinked until your eyes had found him.

“You’re back.” You had said, your voice had been a little hoarse from sleep, but still as sweet as usual, a tired smile had painted your face as your eyes had found the dark T of his visor. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” He had said, but you had just shaked your head and hugged Grogu close against you. Oh, how Din had wished he could have crawled into the bunk and joined the two of you.   

“Are you okay?” You had asked, just like you always do after he comes back from a hunt. 

“Yes, I’m okay.” He had reassured you before continuing. “Go back to sleep, mesh’la.”

He has never told you what it means and a part of him feels guilty about that. Maybe you wouldn’t like to be called that by him. You are technically his employee, even though the lines between you feel pretty blurry by now. An undefinable bond has been built between you, Grogu and Din. Maybe it is the small proximity there is forced upon the three of you, due to the size of the Razor Crest. Or maybe it is due to the undeniable connection there has been between you and Grogu from the beginning, but your presence on the Crest feels too domestic, too loving, for you to simply be Grogu’s nanny. 

Din has felt feelings this past year that he has not been acquainted with before. Desire, jealousy, a desperate yearning, all fairly foreign to him until you had entered his life. It is an emotional disruption he hasn’t felt since Grogu had come into his life.

When Grogu had come crashing into his life it had been an upheaval beyond anything Din could ever have imagined. He was so used to not having anyone around, let alone a small child that was so dependent on him. It had been confusing and foreign, but Grogu had climbed into his heart and carved out a space there. A space that Din never wants to become empty again. 

Din had never been aware of how lonely he actually had been before Grogu. It had been a hard realisation, but he couldn’t deny it any longer, especially when he thought that he had lost him. Forget hunting bounties and fighting ferocious creatures, handing his foundling over to the Jedi was the hardest thing Din has ever had to do. Din had ended up caring more for Grogu than he had ever thought possible, he had removed his helmet for his foundling, the little green child had given din a whole new purpose in life.    

And now Din is a changed man. Grogu has changed him, down to the very atoms of his DNA. Din had never thought he would have what he now has. He had been settled with the way his life had been- lonesome and brutal, in order to support his covert and give back to the Mandalorians that had taken him in, or he had at least used to think so…   

But seeing you now, there is really no way of running from his feelings any longer. You are gently bouncing Grogu on your hip as you point out a constellation for him, but the youngling seems to be more interested in playing with the hem of your tunic than looking at the stars over your heads. The silver light from the planet’s moons illuminates you and bathes you in the shine. 

Din had landed the Crest on the little planet not even twenty minutes ago and even though it was past Grogu’s bedtime you had insisted on letting him have a couple of minutes in the fresh air before putting him down for the night. Din had not objected, the three of you had been in space for almost a week straight so a little moonlit night stroll before bed had sounded tempting.   

A light breeze sweeps over you and Grogu lets go of your tunic to instead nuzzle himself close against your chest as  he lets out a cute little yawn. You let out a low chuckle before looking up at Din and his heart skips a beat for the second time this night. The stars are reflecting in your eyes and you have a sleepy smile on your lips.

“I think it is time to get our little one here back to his bed.” You chuckle while you hitch Grogu up a little higher on your hip.  

‘Our little one…’ 

Our!

 Dear Maker how Din wished that you had meant it in the way he secretly yearns for. 

“Yeah, let’s head back to the ship, mesh’la.”      

—

Grogu is sleepily blinking his big eyes up at you as he slowly snoozes off in your arms. You let out a content sigh as you plant a kiss on top of his little green head before carefully placing him down into his little hammock. The sound of his small soft snores echoes through the little sleeping chamber. You are never gonna get tired of this. You smile down at the little sleeping figure as you back away, turning the switch for the door to give the youngling peace to sleep. 

You look around the hull for Din, but you don’t find him so you climb up the ladder to the cockpit where you find him sitting in the pilot chair. He looks like he is lost deep in his thoughts, looking out through the window at the night dark meadow where he had docked the ship. 

“Hey.” You say as you approach him, sitting yourself down in the passenger seat next to him. 

“Hi.” He says without looking at you. 

A silence falls over the cockpit, not necessarily an uncomfortable one, but it does feel loaded with something you can’t really put your finger on. Din had been silent for the entire walk back to the Crest and you wonder if something is bothering him. Maybe he is just tired. You had told him to take the bunk tonight when you made it back to the ship, but he had refused. You were supposed to be taking turns sleeping in the bunk under Grogu’s hammock, but it has been weeks since Din has slept in it and wasn't like he did it often before that. You feel bad about it, his back must be killing him after all these nights on the hard mat on the floor.  

“Din is-” You lean forward in the passenger chair, leaning slightly towards him to try and catch his attention. “Is something wrong?”    

He finally looks away from the window and turns his helmet towards you, and despite only being met by the dark visor of his helmet you just know that his eyes under it are locking with yours. The thought of that always sends a little shiver through you. You know that you shouldn't think about it. Maybe it is wrong, an insult to his creed, but you can’t help but fantasise about the man he must be underneath all the beskar. He is handsome, that is for sure. It doesn’t even matter in what way, it is deeper than that. He is a handsome person no matter what he actually looks like under the helmet and armour. You have seen some of him in glimpse. A bare hand as he removes a glove to get a better grip on as he fixes a clasp on a crate, or the time he had gotten hit in the spot between two pieces of armour and you had helped him getting it bandaged. His face is still a mystery to you. It is a little weird not to know what he looks like, especially considering that you have fallen in love with him. 

You had not meant to fall in love with the Mandalorian. You had tried to fight it, but it was a fight you had no chance of winning. You know that you are being silly, but you sometimes get the idea that he might feel something for you too. It also doesn’t help that you have ended up loving Grogu as much as you do. You don’t think you could love him more if he had been your own. It is kind of scary, the thought of the day din decides he doesn’t need you anymore. That your feelings for Din never will be reciprocated hurts, but you will be able to get over it with time, but the day you will have to get separated from Grogu… Oh, that day is going to kill you. 

“No, mesh’la nothings wrong.” Din shakes his head, he isn’t looking at you anymore, back to looking out at the night. “I was just lost in my own thoughts.” 

“Oh, okay...”

You sit in silence for a little while, you don’t know if you should go and let him be alone with his thoughts or if you should break the silence. You are just about to open your mouth to say something, what you don’t even know, but the silence feels too much. Din beats you to it though. 

“The kid, he uhm…” His voice is much softer than usual, almost close to a whisper. “He really likes you.”

“Well, I really like him too.” You say, you can’t help the soft smile spreading on your lips. 

“I’m glad  you do, mesh’la…” 

“You know… You keep calling me that, but you have never told me what it means.”

“I guess I haven’t…” His voice is low and a little shaky through the modulator.

You don’t know what it is with him tonight, but something feels different.  

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your fluttering heart. “Are you gonna tell me?” 

He freezes in the chair, sitting more still than usual, if that is even possible. He is almost reminiscent of a statue. The silence builds, and you begin to regret that you asked. The air between you feels charged, but you can’t figure out with what. It feels like whatever his answer is gonna be it is gonna fundamentally change something between you. You are starting to think that he is going to ignore your question when he finally breaks the silence.

“Beautiful.” His voice sounds a little weak, almost like he regrets telling you, but he continues in a more confident tone. “It means beautiful.”  

Beautiful… He’s been calling you beautiful all this time? The word always falling so naturally from his lips, soft and earnestly.

The rapid beats of your heart against the restraints of your ribcage thumbs loudly in your ears. You can’t believe what he just said. He is finally looking back at you again, but any signs of what he is feeling are hidden behind the dark reflection of the visor.  

“You call me beautiful?”  

“Yeah, I do… Trust me, if anything or anyone has ever deserved to be called that, it is you.”  

You can not believe that this is really happening, is there really a chance that he might feel the same as you?

“I don’t know what to say.” You say, the hope that has bloomed in your chest is scaring you.    

“You don’t have to say anything. I actually would prefer it if you don’t… I’m sorry if I have made you uncomfortable.” He stands up from the chair, turning his back to you.  

“Din please don’t go…” You grab his wrist before he can get to the ladder and disappear down the hull. “Din, I need you to tell me how you feel, please… I need to know.” 

“Dank farrik.” He curses under his breath and turns around to face you again. “I don’t know how to do this…” He shuffles anxiously from one foot to another. 

It is always so surprising to see Din like this, the usual confident and stoic bounty hunter all anxious and nervous, but you have seen it a few times before. He might be a tough and hardy bounty hunter, but put the man in a social setting and he can get nervous. But this is a whole new level. 

“Grogu he…” He pauses, the sound of his breath sounds shaky through the  modulator of his helmet. “He means the world to me. I love him, he… he is mine. I never thought that I would have that, my life was never set on that path, I didn’t think I was ever meant to be anyone’s buir, but… now I can’t imagine my life without him in it. It was hard for me to accept that I wanted someone around, but I couldn’t deny it any longer.” 

His words come out with so much emotion, you have never heard him like this before. You know that he loves his son, he shows that every day, but hearing him say it like this… The rawness, the emotions. Your vision starts to turn blurry as the tears start to build in the corner of your eyes. You want to be a part of that love so bad.  

“What I’m trying to say is…” He takes a shaky breath through the modulator, his shoulders are tense under the shoulder plates of his armour and his gloved hands are curled into tight anxious fists. “Now I can’t imagine my life without you in it either.”  

“Oh…” Your lips part, you are founding yourself dumbfounded. Is this really happening?

“I want you to be a part of my life, both our lives…” He is actually shaking as he tells you this. “I don’t want to just be a clan of two anymore… I want you mesh’la.” 

You suddenly understand. The way you will sometimes worry that he is avoiding you, or how you sometimes feel like your presence is making him uncomfortable. It makes sense now, you rise from the chair and close the distance between the two of you. You search for the eyes under the helmet, even though you can’t see them you want him to know that you are looking at him - the man and not the Mandalorian. You realise how hard this must be for him, he has been hidden away for all of his adult life, physically, but emotionally too. You reach out for him, placing your palms on the sides of his helmet.  

“Din…” You start out, it is probably just something you imagine, but it is like you can feel the heat of his skin through the beskar on your hands. “You already got me. I’m already yours.”

“Really?” It is Din’s turn to sound like he doesn’t believe what he is hearing. 

“Yes, Din.” You can feel the tears sliding down your cheeks now, and you can’t keep the grin off your face as you nod up at him. “I’m yours, okay. Yours and Grogu’s.”

“And we are yours... Kriff, mesh’la I’m all yours.” He gasps through the modulator. He rests his forehead against yours, the coolness of the beskar is feeling nice against your warm skin. You stand like this for a moment, simply enjoying the intimacy of the closeness, your hands cradling his helmet and his resting on your hips. The silence stretches until Din finally breaks it. 

“I want to kiss you so badly.” He confesses. 

“I know.” You say, but you know that he can’t and that is okay. You have accepted that things with him are going to be different than it would have been with others, so the shock you’re feeling when a loud hiss is echoing off the durasteel walls is big. You squeeze your eyes tightly shut without even thinking about it. Your hands land over your closed eyes, like an extra protection to make sure you don’t see him. 

“What are you doing?!” You shriek as you hear the loud thud of beskar landing on the metal floor. Din has removed his helmet! He didn’t even give you a warning so you could close your eyes before, you had been quick so you haven't really seen him just gotten a quick blurry peek.  

“Open your eyes, mesh’la.” His voice is so low and soft, it is so close to a whisper, you almost miss it. His fingers brush against your hands to make you remove them from your eyes. His bare hands, you notice, and the skin on skin contact makes a hot shiver run down your spine. “Please.” He adds.

You can’t believe this. First you learn that he has been calling you beautiful for months, then he tells you that he wants you to stay with him and Grogu and now… Now Din is helmetless in front of you and he wants you to see him?  

“Are you sure?” You stutter. 

“Yes, mesh’la.” This time he speaks with his whole chest, like he has never been more sure about anything in his life. The sound of his voice without the modulator of his helmet hits your ears and you feel like you might cry. It’s deep and rich, reminding you of the sonorous melodies played on a f'nonc horn. 

You inhale a shaky breath before removing your hands from your eyes and slowly blinking them open. And there he is. Din Djarin, your Din Djarin, staring back at you. You let out a little gasp as you take in the sight of him. You can’t believe that this is what he has been hiding all this time. You knew you would like the way he looked, because it would be him, but the reality is still exceeding all expectations you had. Din Djarin is gorgeous. The brown hair, that curls up at the ends, matches the colour of the irises of the prettiest most soulful eyes you have ever seen. His strong jaw is covered with a short, slightly patchy, beard that frames his face nicely. A moustache is framing his mouth. A mouth with the most kissable lips you have ever seen.

Another long silence breaks out between you, both of you are shocked by the situation. 

“Hi…” He finally says and it is all that you need to break out of your haze. 

“Hi.” You smile at him, maybe the brightest smile of your life.

You reach out for him, you need him closer.

“Do I disappoint?” He asks, but he is smiling too now.

“Hell no.” You shake your head with a laugh, the thought of this face disappointing anyone is an absurd idea. 

“You’re beautiful.” You whisper, your hands find his hair, wrapping your fingers in his soft locks. He leans his forehead down to rest against yours again. It had felt good before, but this - his skin against yours, oh that is heaven. The two of you stay like this for a while, enjoying the affinity between you. 

“What about that kiss?” You finally say and it is all he needs to hear. His lips crash onto yours. It is like a switch has been turned, the softness from before replaced with an intense hunger. The kiss is heated and needy, like he is desperate to taste you, wanting to map out every corner of your mouth. His hands are on your hips, a tight grip as he pushes you closer against him. 

You gasp into his mouth as you feel the solid curve of his bulge press against your pelvis. It is sending a warm shiver through you that settles in your lower stomach. You press yourself into him, slightly grinding your hips against his clothed cock which pulls a low groan out of him. His broad hands squeezes your hips, guiding your rhythm as you rock against him.

“Do you really want this?” You ask him 

“More than anything.” You can hear the smirk in his voice. “Do you?”

“Yes!” You nod wildly. “I’ve never wanted anything or anyone as badly as I want you.”

Your confession makes him let out a deep groan from deep within his throat, it makes a new shiver run through you. His fingers find the hem of your pants which he starts to slide down your legs. You take over, kicking the garment of your legs as you push him towards the pilot’s chair. 

“Sit.” You command. You don’t know what it is, you are usually not the commanding type, but you are feeling wild tonight, drunk off of Din’s lips.

Something flickers in Din’s eyes at your sudden bossy tone. “Yes, ma’am.” He mutters as he sits back in the seat, his strong thighs spread out and a cocky smile on his lips. Fuck, he is going to be the death of you aren’t he? 

You take a second to enjoy the view, before walking over to him, stepping between his thighs. Your hand lands in his hair as you look down at him through hooded eyes. 

“Come here, mesh’la.” He whispers as he reach out for you, gripping your hips and pulling you closer. You lift your leg over him, straddling his broad lap.

He groans at the pressure, as you start to rock your clothed cunt against his muscular thigh. You suspect that he can feel the warmth of your dampness through the fabric. Din adjusts his hold on your waist, helping you set a rhythm as he begins to move your hips. He is moving you slowly at first, but the eager sounds you’re letting out is quickly making him pick up the pace. You purr out his name as you feel his thigh flex under you. 

“Kriff… Doing so good for me, mesh’la.” Din curses under his breath. “Looking so pretty.”

“Mmm..” You hum out, burying your face into the crook of his neck as you keep grinding against him until you can’t take it anymore. 

“Fuck, Din, I...” You whine, feeling the fabric of your panties getting gradually more and more damp against him.

“I need you, Din” You remove your head from his neck so you can look deeply into his eyes. His brown eyes are burning you, his hands coming to a still.  

“Okay, yeah…” He nods at you, his pupils are blown wide and a flush is covering his cheeks. “Ne-need you too, mesh’la.”

His eyes are still locked with yours as he moves you, making you lift yourself up from him so he can start on removing some of his armour plates. You use the time to get rid of your tunic, leaving you in only your bra and panties. He ends up removing most of his armour, leaving him warm and soft for you.   

He pulls you down on him again, connecting your lips once more as his hand dives down to your panties, sliding his fingers under the hem and finding your clit which he begins to stroke with slow, firm circles after coating his digits with your wetness, making you moan into the kiss.  

“Fuck, mesh’la, you’re so wet. All soaked, just for me. My sweet, sweet girl.” He whisper against your mouth.

He keeps circling your clit with one hand, setting a faster pace as his other hand finds your breast, squeezing it gently through your bra, making you let out another desperate moan. Your hands find the clasp at your back, fingers fumbling slightly from eagerness as you open the latch before zealously removing the item from your body. Din lets out a pleased groan as your exposed breasts appear. His free hand, that isn’t occupying your clit, eagerly kneads the soft plumpness of one of your tits before taking its nipple between his fingers and gently twisting it. 

“Oh, fuck… Fuck, Din, I…” You whine out, feeling your orgasm approach. You don’t think you have ever felt it come this early before, but he has you so riled up.

“I know baby, I know.” He encourages. “You can mesh’la, you can come for me.”  

It is all you need to hear, the last string that holds you together gets cut and the warm euphoric waves of pleasure wash over you. His name is falling from your lips over and over again as you ride out your orgasm. 

“Did that feel good?” He asks you with a kiss to the top of your head when you’ve finally come back down from your high and now has relaxed into him.

“So good.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” He says and you can hear the smile in his voice without even looking at him. 

“Wanna make you feel good too.” You say letting your fingers find his cheek and gently stroke his cheekbone. “Want you inside me.” You feel how his cock twitches underneath you from your confession.

“You sure mesh’la?” He asks, placing his hand under your chin to gently holding your head up as he look deeply you in the eyes for your answer.

“Very.” 

“Okay.” He hums, pressing a gentle kiss onto your lips, but it very quickly turns heated. 

Your hands reach down between you, finding the buttons of his pants which you quickly begin to unbutton. The angle is slightly awkward, but you manage to get the last button undone without breaking the kiss. 

Din taps your thigh to make you step back for a second so he can pull down his pants and free his cock. Your eyes widen at the sight. You had gotten the idea that he was big from what you had felt when you grinded against his bulge, but nothing could prepare you for the view that met you. He is big. His cock is throbbing and thick, laying heavy against his stomach, the tip is already dripping with precum and you feel your mouth water by the sight.         

You slide your panties to the side as you readjust yourself, and start to slowly sink down on him. You’re really taking your time, both so you can adjust to the imposing size of him, and so you can enjoy the sounds he’s making for you as you slowly take more and more of him, until you finally are taken the entirety of him. 

“You are so perfect…” He sights. “Cyar'ika you have no idea…” He adds before he starts on leaving hot kisses up and down your neck. 

‘Cyar'ika.’ Another word you don’t know the meaning of, but you are too far gone in your shared pleasure to stop up and ask him the meaning. 

The two of you sit like this for a little while, letting you adjust to him, but you soon can’t take it anymore, you need some movement. 

You lift yourself a little from the chair before sinking back down on him, making Din choke on a throaty moan. His hands stay on your hips, as you begin to bounce on him in a slow, but steady rhythm, but he occasionally slips them down to your ass, squeezing the soft plum skin with his broad hands. It makes you go wild. You pick up your pace.

“Dear, Maker…” You gasp “Din, you’re feeling so good.” 

“You too, mesh’la. So fucking tight.” Din praises, lifting you up with his strong arms and pulls all the way out of you before slamming back into you, filling you up again. “So warm, so perfect.” 

His hips now meet yours with every bounce as he thrust up into you, burying himself so deep inside you it has you bite down hard on your lower lip to not scream loudly and wake up Grogu. The sound of Din’s heavy balls slapping up against your wet cunt, as well as the loud creaks of the chair, is echoing from the walls and it is honestly the hottest thing you have ever heard. Your arms have begun to shake as your grip on the armrest of the chair is getting tighter and tighter. You keep bouncing up and down on him as you feel your second climax getting nearer and nearer. 

“Oh, kriff… Mesh’la you’re so tight.” He groans through gritted teeth. 

“I… I won’t last much longer.” He warns. His thrust falters a little as he gets closer and closer to his release. 

“It’s okay, you can come, baby…” You pant out. “Please come for me, Din” 

He let out a throaty groan at your encouragement. 

“I have an implant.” You add. “Please, I want to feel you inside of me.” 

You pull his face up to you, kissing him hard. Your lips connected passionately as you both get pushed over the edge. His fingers dig into your hips as he comes, your name spilling from his lips like a prayer.

You moan out his name, as your walls clench down around his cock. You feel how his dick twitches inside you as he comes undone. The warmth of his release coats your inside, and you dote on the feeling of being filled by him, milking every drop of his release as he keeps pumping into you, fucking his cum deep into you. You feel like the two of you have melted together as you both ride out your climaxes. Tears of pleasure are wetting your eyes. You have wanted him for so long, never thought that you would have him, never thought that he would feel the same as you. 

You find his lips again, kissing him as you both ride out your climaxes. He hums content into your mouth and you can feel the smile on his lips. His hands are leaving your waist and he is instead cupping your cheeks, gently holding your face and the rough and heated atmosphere is soon turning soft.   

“Are you okay?” He asks while caressing your cheek with light strokes of his finger pads.

“Yes.” You assure him with a small smile. “More than okay.” 

He smiles back at you. He has the prettiest smile in the galaxy you decide. “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, mesh’la.”

You don’t know the meaning of his words, but they fall from his lips with such warmth and care that you it has your heart flutter with warmth in your chest. 

“What does that mean?” Your voice is nothing but a whisper. 

“I will know you forever.” 

“That is beautiful.” 

“It’s…” He looks into your eyes, the deep mahogany of his irises make your heart clench. You can’t believe that these are the eyes that has been looking at you from under the helmet all this time. “It’s how we tell people we love them.” 

“It is…?”

“Yes.” He nods. “I love you, mesh’la.” 

He loves you… Din Djarin loves you. 

“I love you too, Din.” You say before connecting your lips again in a long passionate kiss. “You and Grogu.” You add when you eventually have to pull away for air.

He smiles at you as his eyes are filling with grateful tears. You, Din and Grogu – a little clan of three.

[absurdthirst]

Unexpectedly Mated {Alpha!Mando x F!Omega!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings: Alpha/Omega dynamics, heats, denying biological needs, religious creeds, removing your helmet, jealousy, territorial aggression, fingering, first kisses, vaginal sex, rough sex, knotting, mates, marking

Comments: Forbidden to remove your helmet by Creed, Mandalorians deny their basic biological needs as Alphas and Omegas. The helmet blocks the scant of their true mate. Until an open air vent leads Mando to discover that you are his omega.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

*** When reblogging or talking about Omegaverse, please remember that ‘a/b/o’ without the slash punctuation marks (/) is considered a slur for the Aboriginal people in Australia.

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || The Mandalorian MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“You must never remove your helmet.” The creed and these words drilled into you at a young age and you have never forgotten, would never be allowed to forget. The creed comes before all else. The covert comes before the individual. In a galaxy full of alphas, omegas, and betas…Mandalorians stood alone. Defying their biological status to better the covert, to keep the numbers up. You wear the helmet to not only protect your face but to keep you from recognizing your mate. The scent recognition of a mate is instant so the Mandalorian solution is to wear helmets with filters so that one can breed with anyone they prefer. Their minds are clouded with scent so the desire is the driving factor. The younglings are raised by the covert as a unit so the aim is to repopulate Mandalore. You suppress your omega urges with supplements and you’ve yet to breed. Too busy with bounty hunting alongside a certain Din Djarin. You’re drawn to him, that’s for sure, but you’ve never bred with him. He’s not interested in a family, in an ad. He wants credits. He wants to protect the foundling under his care and you’ve gone along for the ride.

“Din.” Your modulated voice calls out to him as he strides ahead of you after you reunited the frog woman with her husband. “The kid needs to eat.” You tell him, knowing you need to find the nearest cantina.

The sigh Din gives you is one of frustration and resignation. He likes the kid, he’s risked a lot to protect him, even his covert. The sins he has committed weigh heavily on his shoulders and he nods. “Come on.” He grumbles to the little one. “I know you’re hungry, we’ll get you something to eat.” Hopefully the Crest will be fixed soon. Unable to take off his helmet unless he is in his bunk is starting to frustrate him, the hermetically sealed space is starting to feel stale with the cycled air and he longs for a single breath of fresh air. He had also hoped to slip away for a moment, needing to find a medical facility to replace his implant. It had been damaged from his fight with Moff Gideon and he’s not had time to have it seen to. While he doesn’t visit a brothel or find a sexual partner often, he can feel the need to rut building up in his system. The alpha side he tries to suppress starts to bleed through his normally calm demeanor. 

You sit with the kid in the cantina, snorting when Din saves him from his own lunch and you glance around at the sailors. They mention Mandalorians and you are surprised to hear of your kind here, especially since Din wants to find them so he can help the kid return to his own planet. “Before we head off, maybe we can freshen up. I need to use the fresher and I’m sure you also want some time out of beskar.”

He groans at the idea of time outside the suit. Letting his skin breath and maybe he can work in a quick tug on his cock while he’s in the ‘fresher. “We’ll have to get rooms.” He reminds you, his head tilting towards yours. “Do you want to do that?”

You nod, “that sounds like a plan. I’m sure this one needs a nap after everything.” You say, reaching out to caress the kid’s ear. He coos at you and finishes his broth with a loud slurp. “Let’s find somewhere.” You say and throw some credits down for the broth. Din nods and you’re soon following him into the inn nearby. You are eager for a shower and some time out of the heavy beskar. Despite wearing it since you were a kid, you have always been weighed down by it. Din gets two rooms and you nod at him when he carries the now sleeping child into the room.

The child’s eyes never open, making Din chuckle quietly as he closes the pod and sets it in the corner of the room. Looking around to make sure the windows are covered before he reaches up and unlatches the edge of his helmet and groans quietly when he pulls it off his head. His hair is sweaty, but immediately the scent of the outside world is much more vivid. Making him inhale deeply and growl quietly at how good it all smells. Being an alpha as a Mandalorian was tricky, his own scent blocked by the helmet, but others could smell him. Making things difficult for him at times, especially when he cannot even walk around his own ship with his helmet unsealed because you are with him. Now, he sits on the edge of the bed, with his eyes closed and breathes deep, unaware that the vent between your two rooms has not been closed. 

You hum as you tilt your head under the water. An actual shower instead of the ‘fresher on the ship is a welcome surprise. You don’t realize the vent in your room is open so Din can smell you as your omega scent wafts through the room, warmed up from the shower and the water flowing onto your face blocks you from smelling Din.

It’s subtle at first. A teasing waft that caresses his nose and makes his cock twitch. The beautiful, heady scent of an omega. Making him groan quietly until the next wave hits him. His omega. The scent overwhelms him and he’s immediately hard, aching and desperate to claim the omega who is meant to be his mate. His mate. His eyes widen when he sees the vent opened, called to it as he follows the scent. It’s the vent that connects your room to his. You’re his mate.

You can feel a tugging in your stomach when you step out of the shower and you frown, wondering if you’re going to go into heat soon. You’ll need to get some more suppressants since you don’t have the time to spend days nesting while you are with Din. He doesn’t want you to be a needy omega holding him back from his quest. You dry off, shutting the door to the bathroom behind you and you lay down on the bed, unable to stop your hand from snaking down to rub your clit, a whimper escaping your lips.

Din snaps the vent closed. Hand curling into a fist as he pants against the shared wall. You’re his mate, his omega. His mind whirls as he tries to reconcile that new information with the stalwart and steady Mandalorian he has been bounty hunting with. He won’t deny that he wondered about fucking you before, it’s only natural that he would given how close you had been. His cock throbs as he imagines you in your armor, slowly stripping it off and walking around your room nude. Building a nest and begging him to join you. “Fuck.” He hisses.

You fall asleep naked on the bed after making yourself cum, relieving the ache in your stomach, enjoying being out of your beskar. You sleep until there’s a knock on the door and you groan, waking up and immediately grabbing your helmet to slide it onto your head. “It’s time to go.” Din says and you call out, “no problem. I’ll get ready and be right out.”

You redress in your beskar, your stomach still aching but you decide you’ll seek out some suppressants later. Opening the door, you find Din standing there with the kid. “Morning buddy.” You coo to the child and look up at Din who looks tense. “Everything okay?” You ask him, tilting your helmet. 

You know that Din can be all business but there’s something off about him. You ignore it and follow Din down the hall to find the sailors who are granting you passage on their boat to find the Mandalorians that are apparently on the planet. Later on, you admire the water as the raft moves along, glancing at Din who is stiff, well, stiffer than normal. “Are you sure you’re okay?” You ask softly, the sailors moving around behind you.

“Let me go!” You growl in anger, swinging your arm to fling a sailor into the water. Using your strength to try and untangle yourself from the ropes when Din and the child are in danger and that’s when they appear: the Mandalorians.

The redhead who introduced herself as Bo Katan shakes her head. “I’ve heard of your sect of the religion but Maker…I didn’t know how far it went in controlling its followers. On Mandalore, we wish for alphas and omegas to find their mate, it makes for stronger bonds, stronger families. We don’t - that is not something we dictate.” You swallow harshly as her words, feeling a tugging in your stomach that makes you want to lean towards Din but you push that aside. “You can remove your helmet and you would not be dar'manda.” Bo Katan explains and you’re so tempted.

Din stands up, angry at them for tempting him, tempting you. He shakes his head. “You are not mandalorian.” He growls, reaching down and takes your arm to pull you to your feet. “We are leaving.” He tells you, turning and striding away from the group angrily. 

You let Din guide you out of the cantina and you sigh, “Din. Slow down. Maybe…maybe they are telling the truth. As Mandalorians, we are denying our biological need. We are denying nature itself. Why? What- what good is it?” You ask him, the child in the pouch nestled against his hip.

“What good is it?” Din stops and spins around, crowding you slightly and even though you cannot smell it, pheromones pour off of him in heavy waves. All this talk of mates and finding out you are his has him desperate to claim you. To take what is his. “The Creed. That is what good it is. Our secrecy is our survival. We. Do. Not. Remove. Our. Helmets.” 

You shake your helmet, stumbling back away from him. “I do not want to breed with whomever the armorer tells me to. I want to find my mate. I want to feel complete.” You yell, quickly flicking the lock to your helmet and you waste no time lifting it off of your head in public for the first time since you were twelve. It hits you immediately. His scent. He’s an alpha. Your alpha. “You- oh Maker. Alpha.” You address him, your stomach twisting with sudden need for him.

Din hisses, his body jerking at the tone of your voice, the submissive nature of it. Calling to him. His hands curl into fists and he moves, shielding you from any eyes that could possibly see your face. “Put your helmet on.” He demands roughly, knowing that he cannot do this right now. He cannot have this conversation with you in the middle of a spaceport. 

Your lower lip trembles, feeling the rejection, and you shove your helmet back on your head, flicking the lock and his scent is replaced with fresh air through the filter. “Clearly you do not wish to have me as your omega so I am going to go back to the cantina. Perhaps another alpha can help with my heat.” You didn’t get a chance to pick up suppressants and the scent of your alpha has your stomach twisting with the sudden heat, the urge to mate and be claimed by him has you sweating already. You need to be touched and as much as you wish for it to be him, it’s obvious that he doesn’t want that. You spin on your heel before he can answer to make your way back into the cantina.

Growling, Din watches you walk off. Sighing when he knows he cannot follow you. The child is still beside him, looking up and cooing at him as if to tell him that he had fucked up. “Come on kid.” He grunts, turning and walking away from you even though his entire body is screaming to follow you. “I need to find someone to watch you.” He knows he cannot have a conversation with you around the kid, around anyone. He needs to find another room, then he will bring you back for a talk. 

You want to take off your helmet and down a spotchka or five, but Din’s command to not remove your helmet is ringing in your ears. You sit at the bar when you feel a presence next to you. “What’s a Mandalorian omega doing all alone?” He asks and you snort, “I haven’t got an alpha.” You state despite your chest aching, knowing you have an alpha but he doesn’t want you. On your walk to the cantina, you realized that Din didn’t question being your alpha. Which means he must’ve taken his helmet off at some point and found out. You wonder how long he’s known. Why he had kept it from you. “That’s good news for me, sweetheart. I’ve never been with a Mandalorian before and it smells like you might be needing an alpha at any moment.” He says, leaning closer and your stomach pangs with the beginning of a heat. 

“I- I ran out of suppressants.” You confess, turning towards him despite everything in you wanting to run to find Din.

The Frog Lady had agreed to watch the baby, leaving Din to go back to the little inn where you had stayed last night and get another room. He knows that he owes you a conversation, a real conversation and he cannot do that in public. Once he has the key, Din tucks it into his belt and sets off for the cantina. He knows you are angry at him, hurt. He wants to give you time to cool down for a moment, to think rationally again. To remember your creed so both of you can agree that nothing will happen until you can find the armorer again and speak with her. Striding confidently towards the seedy little bar, he is sure that it would work. 

You giggle when the alpha leans in, telling you a joke about Jawas and you are distracted for a moment from talking about your heat. He offers to buy you a drink but you decline, not wanting to take your helmet off, but it’s nice to talk to someone without them just giving you a grunt as an answer. You unconsciously lean closer to the alpha, your body heated as your biological need threatens to overwhelm you.

Walking into the bar, Din unlocks his helmet, unsealing it so he can smell you. Attraction and arousal, pouring from you and he follows the scent. Finding you sitting at the bar, another alpha leaning in, obviously interested in touching you, fucking you. The need to protect you roars to life in his chest and his alpha nature  rips through his self control. Moving quickly to you, barely resisting the urge to pull his blaster on the cocksure alpha who is grinning at his mate. “Get the fuck away from her.” He growls, shoving between the two of you and puffing up his chest, towering over the other man and trying to be as intimidating as possible.

You gasp at Din’s sudden appearance and you stand up from your stool. “Alpha.” You place your hand on Din’s chest plate to keep him back from the other alpha. 

“Hey buddy. Me and this omega were talking.” The alpha says and you wince under your helmet, knowing that he needs to shut up before he gets a blaster in the face. 

“Din, just leave him.” You huff, pissed that he is dictating what you can and can’t do.

“My omega.” Din growls, his hand inches away from his blaster and he stares hard at the man from behind his visor. “Move away.” He warns but the man scoffs and doesn’t look impressed. 

“She doesn’t seem taken. She seems like she’s real interested in getting to know me. ‘Bout to go into heat, needs an alpha buried in her cunt, knotting her.”

His words make you wince as you know Din, any alpha, wouldn’t allow them to speak about their omega that way. “It’s obvious you haven’t claimed her. What’s wrong, Mando? Not got the balls to do what needs to be done. She doesn’t smell like you. She smells wet. She smells ready for a cock. Clearly you aren’t enough for her. She wants to get fucked.” The alpha smirks, pushing Din’s buttons even more.

Din’s hand shoots out, wrapping it around the other alpha’s throat and squeezing harshly. Enjoying the way his pheromones immediately turned to ones of distress and his eyes bulge while his blue skin turns purple as the airways are cut off by the pressure of Din’s hand. “My omega.” Din rasps out, voice dangerously low and threatening. “Mine. Not yours. Mine.” The urge to kill him is clouding his thoughts, to demonstrate that you are his. That he would protect you.

“Alpha. Alpha. Don’t. He’s not worth it. I’m yours. I’m yours.” You promise Din, knowing that fact deep within your bones but you’re still furious with him. You place your hands on his chest plate, your helmet tilted towards his, “please. Just take me back to the inn. Don’t do this.”

Slowly, Din relaxes his fingers and lets go. Getting immense satisfaction when the other alpha gasps for air and immediately grabs his throat. He grabs your hands and ducks his shoulder down, hauling you over his shoulder like he would a bounty. Ignoring your shrieks as he storms out of the cantina with you.

You are shocked that Din is carrying you back to the inn and, you can admit to yourself, turned on by the primal display. "Din. Put me down!" You demand but he ignores you until he's in front of the room he had gotten for you. Finally putting you down. "I can't believe you did that." You shake your helmet and he opens the door.

 "Inside." He demands and you obey him immediately, stepping into the room. Din steps into the room, letting the door close and locking it behind him. “You were going to let him touch you?” He demands, pissed off that you were searching for someone, despite the fact that he had not immediately claimed you.

You feel defiant now despite being alone with your alpha. "I was. I am going into heat. If you didn’t touch me, I needed to find another alpha to satisfy my needs." You declare despite knowing that no one would give you what you need from Din. 

“You’ve worked through heats before.” Din growls, remembering how he had heard your whimpering cries from your bunk as you used your toys. It had been hard to deal with, when he hadn’t known he was your alpha. Wanting to offer you his cock the entire time, but he had respected your need for privacy. “Why not this time?”

“Because - because I wanted to feel wanted. I wanted someone to touch me who wanted to touch me, to make me feel something. I know you already knew I was your omega. You weren’t shocked when I found out you were my alpha. You didn’t - you didn’t sound surprised at all. How long have you known?” You ask, crossing your arms.

He leans back from you, surprised that you are attacking him and not liking it. “I-“ he huffs, rolling his eyes under his helmet and sighs. “Yesterday.” He admits quietly. “The vents between our rooms weren't closed. I-I smelled you when I took my helmet off.”

You are placated when you find out it was only yesterday but you’re still hurt that he didn’t tell you. “I didn’t smell you yesterday. I - I was showering and I -” You frown under the helmet. “You weren’t going to tell me, were you?”

“I- we-“ Din shakes his head. “You know what Mandalorians do.” He reasons with you. “The Armorer aligns breeding partners. I-“ He bites his lip under his helmet and sighs. “I was going to ask the Armorer for you, to be paired with you when we find them again.”

You understand where he is coming from but you feel frustrated by him. "Din. We - we are mates. What we have is...it's more than the creed. It's more than just breeding. It's how it is supposed to be. It's primal and raw. We are mates. Destined for each other and you've been by my side for so long yet neither of us knew what the other was meant to be. I want - I want you. I need you. Fuck the creed. Fuck the Armorer. You're my alpha and I - I want you. No matter what the consequences are." You say, "but if you don't want that - want me - I will leave. I'll go back to the covert and you can finish your quest alone."

He wants to argue against your comments, his heart twisting when he hears you say you would walk away. “Always wanted you.” He confesses quietly, breathing deeply and soaking in your scent. “Since the second week together. Watching you wipe the floor with that Twi.” He snorts, smirking slightly under his helmet. “Wanted you all the time.”

You chuckle, remembering that fight when you were both so much younger. You step towards him, "I have always wanted you. Always imagined you when I was in my nest." You confess softly, "I think I knew, unconsciously, that I was yours."

“I thought about you a lot.” Din confesses, taking a deep breath as he remembers what Bo Katan had said about mates being able to reveal their faces to each other. He takes a deep breath and reaches up to slowly start sliding his helmet off.

Your eyes widen under your helmet as Din exposes his face to you and you get your first look at his handsome face. "Maker. You are -" You can see him tense with anxiety and you reach up with your gloved hand to cup his cheek. "Mesh'la." You tell him, unable to tear your eyes away from those beautiful brown eyes. "Do you - you can remove my helmet...if you want."

He’s proud that you find him appealing. His one glimpse of you too fleeting for his own liking, finding you mesh’la as well. “I want to see you, omega.” He hums as he slowly reaches for your helmet. “My omega. My mate.”

You’re nervous for him to fully look at you without your helmets on, and your heart pounds beneath your chest plate. You bite your lip when your eyes meet his without the pixelated visor screen and his brown eyes soften. “Din. Alpha.” You murmur, watching him as he stares at you.

“Mesh’la.” He murmurs softly, staring into your eyes and feeling his cock harden beneath his flight suit as he smells and sees you clearly for the first time. He groans your name. “Omega.”

You ache for him, your heat curling in your stomach, and you wonder what he wants, if he still wants to wait until you return to the covert. “I don’t know what you want from me right now. Do you want us to put our helmets back on and continue on like this never happened until we return to the Armorer?” You ask, a little breathless.

“I cannot pretend I haven’t seen your face, smelled you.” Din groans, his eyes nearly closing in pain when a wave of arousal drifts over him. “I- you’re mine.” He growls again. “You are going into heat, I will take care of you.”

You whimper at his words, your body starting to get overheated with need. “Alpha.” You gasp, starting to work on removing your beskar, needing to feel the air on your hot skin. “I need you.” You pant, efficiently stripping down until you’re in your bra band and panties, boots kicked aside and you slide your hand into your panties, needing to rub your clit for some relief.

“Omega.” He growls, body tense and he steps forward, his need to touch you and take care of you nearly overwhelming his rational sense. He is about to touch you, still completely dressed in his armor except for his helmet. When he sees his gloves, he stops. “Get on the bed.” He orders, starting to strip down himself. Needing to press his skin to yours. “I will make sure you don’t need your fingers. You can have mine.”

You obey his order, shifting to lay down on the bed after reluctantly pulling your fingers out of your panties, and you watch him strip off. “Alpha. You are - you’re mesh’la.” You say, sitting up on your elbows to watch him, seeing the scars from blasters that grazed the vulnerable spots in his beskar and you want to kiss every one of them.

His own groan is one of pride and need, seeing you squirming on the bed, waiting for him. His omega, needy and wet. His hand wraps around his cock and he slowly starts to jerk himself. “You are mesh’la, cyar’ika.” He hums, eyes dark and full of lust. The waves of need and want roll off of you and mix with his own desire to fill the room. “My sweet little, omega. Wanting my cock, needing my knot.”

His voice, unmodulated, makes you shiver, and you watch him with wide eyes. “Yours, alpha.” You promise, reaching behind you to unclip your bra band, tossing it onto the floor to expose your tits to his gaze as he pumps his cock. You are aching for him. “Please. Alpha. I need your touch.”

He’s heard it before. The needy begging and calling to his alpha, but never from his mate. Growling, he scrambles onto the bed, one hand grabbing your breast while the other rips your panties off effortlessly.

You cry out in satisfaction as he quickly pushes two thick digits inside of you. “Yesss.” You hiss, feeling the ache assuage slightly with his digits curling deep inside of you. “Fuck, Din. Alpha. Yes.” You whine, tilting your head towards his.

It will be the first time he’s kissed anyone and it’s fitting that it’s his mate. His lips come crashing down against yours roughly as he curls his fingers inside you. Unskilled, he relies on what he had imagined doing, watching holo vids and jerking off when he was alone in his bunk. His tongue pushing into your mouth when you moan and he makes a feral sound of pleasure of his own.

You moan into his mouth, tangling your tongue with his and it’s unskilled but passionate. Your hands tangle in his hair, tugging slightly and you feel his cock twitch against your thigh. You’ve both had sex before, neither of you have kissed and it’s clumsy but you soon get the hang of it.

He feels like he doesn’t want to ever stop kissing you. Pumping his fingers deep inside your quivering cunt, he groans and rocks his hips against your belly. Loving how eagerly you respond to me.

You pant into his mouth, getting closer to orgasm with the way his fingers pump into you. "Alpha. I'm gonna- you're gonna make me - fuck!" You cry into his mouth as you clamp down on his digits, the ache in your belly satiated for a moment.

The first orgasm from his omega nearly makes him cum untouched. Din moans your name as he works you through the way your walls clench and your juices soak his hand. Pleasured pheromones pour off of you and he ducks his head down to press his tongue to your scent gland.

Feeling his tongue on your scent gland has you whining his name and your nails dig into his back, wanting him to bite you but he won’t until he’s ready. “I need you inside of me. Please, alpha.” You beg, gently pushing him off of you so you can shift onto your hands and knees for him.

Din growls, loving the submissive display, looking at your dripping cunt as you move to your hands and knees. Showing him how badly you need him. “My omega is eager.” He groans, slapping your ass and squeezing your hips as he throbs. He knows this first time will be rough. You know it too. Taking his cock on his hand, he shuffles forward and notches it at your entrance. Hissing when he snaps his hips forward ruthlessly and buries himself deep in your cunt.

Your breath is immediately pushed from your lungs and you gasp as he stretches you out. You fall forward onto your elbows and squeeze your eyes shut as he doesn’t hesitate to start moving inside of you. It’s rough and your body feels like it’s on fire. “Yes! Oh fuck, yes! Alpha. I- shit.” You curse, cunt fluttering around his cock.

You’re perfect around him. Gloriously tight and taking every harsh thrust with a choked moan as he starts to hammer into you. Need and the instinct to give you every piece of himself has him gripping your hips like you might get away from him and rocking deep to push up against your womb.

You grip the sheets beneath you, your cheek pressed against them as he pushes into you over and over again. “Fuck. Oh fuck Din.” You pant, thighs starting to shake as he pushes you closer and closer to orgasm with every harsh rock of his hips.

Suddenly, Din stops. Circling his hips as he lifts your and grinds into you. He was going to cum and he wants to make sure that you are satisfied before he gives into any of his own needs. “Fuck, omega, you are so perfect.” He grunts out, panting as he feels you squeeze him. “Are you going to be a good girl and take my knot? Let me breed you one day?”

You whine, deep from your throat. “Yesss. I’ll let you- have as many as you want, alpha. I want to be good for you. Want you to be happy.” You pant, thighs shaking still as he grinds deep and his hand spreads wide until his thumb is pressing against your clit.

“Good girl.” He growls out, twitching inside you. He’s imagined breeding you before, many times, even before knowing you were his omega. Hoping that working with you would cause the armorer to place you together to breed. It was why he let you on his ship. “Fuck, I- you feel so good ‘mega. So fucking tight around my cock.”

Your nails dig into the sheets and you are desperate for him to make you cum. The fire in your belly is burning and sweat beads on your forehead. “Alpha. Please.” You whine, grinding yourself back onto him. “I need - need to cum. It burns.” You almost sob with need.

“It’s okay,” he coos, rubbing your clit as he starts rocking into you again. “Your alpha is going to take care of you. Make sure your little cunt is happy by the time you leave this bed.”

You grind back onto him, his hips still not moving as he rubs your clit, and you practically sob with relief when you cum. Clamping down on his cock, you moan his name, his designation, and soak him. “Yessss.” You hiss, thighs violating shaking as you ride your high.

“Fuck.” He groans, his hands tightening on you as he feels you cum around him. “It’s so good, cyar’ika. My omega.”

You slump into the sheets, the burning dissipating for a moment so you can catch your breath and Din’s fingers dig into your hips. “Alpha. Maker, I need - I want you to knot me. Please. Fuck me hard.” You beg breathlessly.

“Yes, yes, my ‘mega can take it.” He growls proudly. “Take my cock and beg for more.” As he starts to thrust harder, it feels like he’s going to beat the bed through the wall, knocking the headboard against the panel with a loud clang every time he pushes deep.

“I can take it. I want more. Always want more. Please baby. Fuck me. Fuck me harder, Alpha.” You demand, your hands coming out to stop yourself from being squashed against the headboard.

He wants to bite you, to mark you as his even though no one would ever see your marks except him. His secret claim on you under your armor. His hisses out your name and manages to increase his frantic pace. “Fuck, fuck, Dank ferik.”

You whine his name, “Alpha. Oh Maker. You - it’s - oh shit. Shit. Shit.” You wail as you cum again, clamping down on his cock and gushing around him, feeling his knot starting to catch and you know he’s close. “Cum. Cum for me.” You beg breathlessly, reaching back to touch his hand on your hip.

Din collapses on top of you, Pushing you down to the bed, hips never stopping as he drives into you again and again. Fucking you into the bed as if that was his singular focus in life. “Gonna, gonna cum.” He grunts out, warning you. “K-knot you.”

“Do it. Fuck, I need it. Need it, Alpha.” You beg and he pushes deep just as his knot catches, his seed painting your walls with spurt after spurt. You whine in pleasure, feeling satisfied and you tilt your neck. “Make me yours, Din.”

The audible pop of his knot slipping into you releases a feral growl from deep in his chest. Unable to stop himself, his face turns towards your neck and his teeth sink into your scent gland. Marking you as his irrevocably.

You cum again from the pleasure of being tamed and from him knotting you. You sigh into the sheets when Din licks the mark he left on your skin. “I love you.” You confess, “even before I found out you’re my alpha. I’ve always loved you.” You confess with your eyes closed.

Din sighs softly and even though he could not pull away from you because of his knot, he wraps his arms around you to keep you close. “I had hoped the armorer would pair us together.” He confesses quietly. “That's why I let you join my crew.”

He shifts onto his side and you curl back into his chest, “whatever happens…it’s you and me and the kid. Even if we have to leave the covert. I would like to keep you, to keep you safe.” You promise him and he leans in to nuzzle your neck.

“Kar’ta.” He murmurs, feeling like he is complete for the first time since his nature was revealed. His other half is in his arms and he wants nothing more than to keep you there. “Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome.” He whispers softly, wondering if you will repeat the wedding vows back to him. “Mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde.”

You smile and squeeze his forearm. “Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome. Mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde.” You repeat back, turning your head to look at him, “riduur.” You whisper, kissing his jaw, “my riduur.”

“Riduur.” His spouse. You are married to him now, his - both by your nature and by your religion. “I will keep you and the child safe.” He vows, his hand sliding down to your stomach. “And any who follow.”

You kiss his lips softly, smiling against him as you place your hand over his on your stomach. “We will face whatever we need to face together. My riduur. My alpha. And when we are ready, I’ll happily have your children. Maybe we can settle on Navarro. Get a little cottage and live a peaceful life together.” You vocalize the dream you’ve had for years.

“That would be good.” He knows that it might never happen, but he wishes for it. “First we must finish our quest.” He hopes to find the armorer again and have you declared a clan of three. It will take some time, but you have time. Both of you have implants to prevent a child and his knotted cock twitches inside you as he thinks about filling you with his baby.

“Finish the quest.” You agree, “then we have the rest of our lives together. I love you, Din Djarin. My alpha.” You murmur, kissing his jaw again. “Whatever happens, we will face it together as mates. As partners.” You promise, unsure of the road ahead but you will be together, connected as one, and you will ensure the child’s safety. This is the way.

[thefrogdalorian]

The Arrangement

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Summary: You entered into an arrangement with Mando find some physical relief from the monotony of hyperspace as you travel through the galaxy together as a formidable team of bounty hunters. When you did so, there were three clear rules: that it would not impact your professional relationship, that there were no strings attached and most importantly of all: that Mando would never, ever remove his helmet.

When you carelessly let your emotions get the better of you and undermine those rules, you fear you have lost the man who means everything to you and discover that you miss much more than merely the physical encounters…

Word Count:  7.1k ✯ Rating:  Explicit 18+ MDNI ✯ Content Warnings: Smut, light angst, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex. ✯ Author's Note: Well, this was by far the spiciest thing I have ever written and I hope you like it! I get the urge to write smut very occasionally and it was actually pretty fun to explore this side of a relationship with Din. Thanks to the lovely @decembermidnight for helping me out with this one and encouraging me through it! Very much a "Goooood Anakin, gooooood," dynamic. Nervous about posting this one so I'm going to run and hide now but hope you enjoyed it! :)

✯ My Masterlist ✯ Read on AO3 ✯

As you lie forlornly on your bunk, isolating yourself further from the man who has already put distance between the two of you, you rue the day you ever allowed yourself to enter into an arrangement with such an elusive man. You think back to all the moments you have shared since your paths first crossed, reminiscing over each one of your encounters. 

Tonight is not the first night you chastise yourself for allowing yourself to become entangled with a Mandalorian; far from it. 

Since you and Mando first started sleeping together, there have been frequent occasions when you have regretted the day that you gave into your desires and ever allowed yourself to end up underneath him, especially since he is so reclusive and aloof by nature. His reserved nature occasionally frustrates you, though you have always successfully hidden that. Well, almost always. 

Mando’s withdrawn, quiet nature began as an attractive trait. His stoic, quiet nature first drew you to him as a business partner. 

Except, now you have become something more to each other, such a trait prevents you from knowing him entirely. 

And, boy, do you want to know him entirely. 

Unfortunately, it seems as though you never will. A fact that you are painfully aware of now Mando cannot even stand to be in the same room as you. He is always hiding away in the cockpit. 

You are frustrated at yourself for ever allowing yourself to feel so deeply for him. 

What started as a casual arrangement is undeniably something more to you now. He means something more to you now. The man whose presence you cannot bear to be without. The man whose absence creates a great cavernous void in your chest that feels overwhelming. 

The arrangement between you and Mando started as a physical release for you. A way to scratch an itch. With no strings attached, the arrangement was merely a way of passing time as you hurtled through hyperspace to collect the next bounty. 

You were instantly attracted to Mando since you first glanced at him in the Cantina on Nevarro. With his broad shoulders, narrow waist and imposing form, it was impossible to tear your eyes away from him when he strode in. Even though mostly hidden beneath his armour, you were certain he was gorgeous. 

Then you heard him speak.

Maker. His voice. So deep. His tone was so even, including when he was frustrated by the conversation with the head of the Bounty Hunters’ Guild on Nevarro. Even in the face of adversity, Mando kept his composure. The hulking warrior seemed so composed, so certain. His voice was calm and steady. 

As a fellow member of The Guild, you were unable to resist the tempting urge to eavesdrop on his conversation with Greef Karga. You heard all about how Mando was struggling to afford the interest on paying off the ridiculous loan he had taken to buy the antiquated Razor Crest. You discovered he was having increasing difficulty covering the fuel that the old girl guzzled. After hearing about his predicament, an idea formed in your head.

It was rare for two members of The Guild to collaborate in such a way. After all, Mando should have been your competition. Something about him was drawing you to him, though. You felt compelled towards him, as though some invisible Force was pushing you together. 

You proposed an arrangement to him. 

In return for keeping the credits from your jobs, this mysterious Mandalorian would provide transport, lodgings and fuel in his ship. Considering it was an offer to have one of the best Bounty Hunters in the parsec come aboard his ship, you knew it was an offer he could not refuse. Sure enough, Mando accepted. 

You had been together ever since.

At first, the arrangement was strictly business. You both kept yourselves to yourselves. Never prying into the other’s affairs.

However, after a couple of months spent traversing the galaxy together, there was a shift in your dynamic.

It turned out that two people existing together in a confined space with only each other to converse with to break the monotony of endless hyperspace lanes would find conversation and, eventually, friendship in each other. Despite their best efforts to avoid such a dynamic. 

While friendship blossomed, so did other feelings. 

You had never been able to deny your attraction to Mando to yourself. Pretty soon, you could not even deny it to him. Not when he asked you outright after imbibing one too many flagons of spotchka. 

The first night you slept together was after a particularly heavy night of drinking at a seedy Cantina next to the shipyards of Corellia. There had been an unavoidable tension in the air that night. The alcohol had only enhanced your existing attraction towards each other to the point where it was no longer possible to ignore. The booze finally gave you the courage to vocalise them. 

The tension which lingered in the air all evening was only magnified when you finally staggered back to the Razor Crest. It was practically suffocating being so close to him in that old ship. 

In hoping that you would quickly fall into Mando’s bunk alongside him, you had vastly underrated the meticulousness of your business partner. 

Even in your inebriated states, he had taken the time to lay out the ground rules. Despite how desperate you were for him, every inch of you aflame, Mando had insisted on setting some boundaries before your first time together. 

Firstly, he insisted that sleeping together should not get in the way of your professional relationship. Mando would not give you favourable rates or discounts, nor would he expect them from you, just because you were sleeping together. He made it abundantly clear that, at any time, either of you could back out. The end of the arrangement would not impact your life together.

Secondly, there were no strings attached. No feelings. No declarations of love were wanted nor expected. Ideally, no emotions at all; this was strictly a physical relationship. You were to enjoy each other’s bodies and bring each other pleasure, but that did not necessarily mean that feelings ran any deeper than merely enjoying the way he relentlessly pounded into you, night after night, as you soared through the stars together. 

Thirdly, and most importantly to Mando: the armour stayed on. All of it. Including the helmet. You were never, under any circumstances, to question this rule. You were never to attempt to remove any of his armour. If you did, it would not only terminate your physical arrangement with Mando. But your professional one, too.

You were so desperate to finally relieve the tension that had been simmering for months that you were more than happy to agree to terms. 

You did not regret your decision for even a moment once Mando ended up in the bunk with you.

In allowing your desire for him to win out, you discovered that he was a skilled lover, even with the limitations of his armour. You could not touch him, see his face or feel his mouth, but he made it work. He always ensured you came first, knowing exactly how to please you.  

Your encounters with Mando were a way to blow off steam, a release you both craved. It broke up journeys and brought you closer together. Your professional lives went from strength to strength. You were attuned to each other’s bodies. With each encounter, it felt as though you were slowly becoming one.

Even if you feared catching feelings for Mando, you always consoled yourself that it would never amount to anything. You were sure he did not feel for you in that way.

Whenever you doubted the arrangement, you thought about how the positives far outweighed the negatives. After all, keeping your sexual encounters in-house, so to speak, was a far safer option than putting yourselves in such a vulnerable position, entirely at the behest of others. Your reputation as a formidable bounty-hunting team preceded you throughout the galaxy. You were certain that there would be no shortage of people who would be keen to seduce you and Mando for their benefit.

The arrangement was perfect for both of you. It satisfied your carnal desires. 

At least, at first, it did. 

The closer you grew to Mando, the more your lives became intertwined, the more difficult it was to respect how strongly he felt about keeping himself covered when you slept together. 

To begin with, Mando only took his cock out of the confines of his flightsuit. His armour remained on, digging into your skin. The various plates of his armour colliding roughly with your skin was a sensation you did not mind one bit, especially the touch of his cool beskar on your flushed skin. 

Although you were entirely naked before him, with every inch of your skin displayed. At first, Mando did not even remove his gloves.

During those early encounters, you would barely even touch him. Fearful of being scolded, of ruining what you had. He often took you from behind, pounding into you after he bent you over the crates or the edge of his bunk. Sometimes on the cockpit's dashboard itself, if you were particularly desperate for each other and could not make it down the ladder to your bunk.

Still, the more you and Mando got intimate with one another, the more desperate you were to reach the man below. 

When he finally allowed you to ride him as he sat on the red leather seat of the cockpit, your ass brushing against the cool metal of his thigh plates, you took your chance.

You frantically pushed through the coarse material of his cowl and moved the material which guarded his neck so you could place your lips upon the soft, golden skin you discovered there. 

Mando did not seem to mind, never pushing you away. 

It became a ritual whenever you slept together. You, delighting as you sucked marks that no one else would be able to see, while Mando groaned and praised you. 

You knew the marks were just between the two of you, for your eyes only. Still, their presence nonetheless gave you a thrill in the days afterwards. Especially, when you saw him interacting with others. To know that you had marked him. You had claimed him as yours.

It was a heady prospect that this formidable Mandalorian warrior had been reduced to a whimpering mess by your lips, by such a simple act. He had allowed you to claim him. 

It was also a dangerous prospect… to think of him as yours.

You did not dwell on it for too long, however. 

After that first time you desperately sought out his skin as you rode him in the cockpit, something shifted deep within Mando. 

That small action had clearly awakened some previously untouched feelings in him. The next time you slept together Mando allowed you to remove his flightsuit. You had not acknowledged this shift or dared to believe that it could mean that he held any deeper feelings for you than the lust and desperation borne out of your encounters. 

Still, from that day forth, rather than just taking his impressive length out and nothing else, he would undress himself and wait for you on the bunk, clad in nothing but his helmet. 

It was a sign of ultimate trust. Of vulnerability from a man who you knew rarely allowed himself to feel such an emotion. 

Now you lie here despondently at the knowledge that you have ruined everything. 

Your heart constricts as you remember how close you and Mando once had been. How much you had trusted each other. Entirely. Unquestioningly.

Those times seem so distant now.

Now that you and Mando have stopped speaking. 

Since your last encounter more than a week ago, which happened in the aftermath of a particularly stressful job on the forest planet where you had collected your latest bounty, he has not said a word to you. 

Mando has been completely ignoring your existence… and you have a pretty good idea as to the reason why. 

In fact, as you think back to your most recent encounter, turning over the thoughts in your mind once again, you are certain of the moment you ruined everything…

✯✯✯✯✯

You had barely made it to the bunk, so desperate for each other after spending days camped out in the undergrowth. Dirt still clung to your pores, invading every crease of your body. There had been no opportunity to use the sonic. You were preoccupied with loading up the bounty, as Mando started the Razor Crest’s launch sequence. Despite your dishevelled, filthy appearance, Mando did not seem to mind. He initiated another encounter without hesitation. 

Your condition seemed to unlock something primal within him when you bore yourself to him, traces of dirt on your skin. The musky scent of the forest planet clung to him as he bared his hulking form to you after stripping out of his flightsuit. He was feral, desperate for you as he pounded into you at a merciless pace. Mando moaned loudly and chanted your name as though it were a sacred prayer until he finished with one long growl of your name in his deep, gravelly voice that strained under each syllable.

In the aftermath, as you lay on his strong chest, you allowed your mind to wander. You wondered what the man beneath the helmet looked like. Whether he was as attractive as the rest of his body suggested. His body was firm and toned without being overwhelmingly muscular. There was a softness to his belly and chest you appreciated. A physique more than appropriate for a man of his age. 

You ached to move your hands beneath his helmet, tracing his features with your fingers so that you may see him in the only way possible for you to do so. To catch the vaguest of glimpses of the man who had brought you so much pleasure over the last few months. 

Still blissed out from your multiple orgasms and barely comprehending the gravity of your words and how dangerously close to the line you were stepping, you said something which you wished you could take back almost as soon as the words were out of your mouth. 

“I wish I could see your face when you moan my name, Mando,” you sighed as you lay there in the afterglow. 

The shift was immediate. You felt Mando tense beneath you. Your comment had unsettled him. The guilt was immediate.

“Wait, Mando,” you quickly added, your blood ran cold as you realised your carelessness, “I wasn’t asking you to remove it… I was just thinking out loud. Please, Mando, I…”

Your words were cut off when he shuffled out from beneath you, disentangling himself from your limbs that had been entwined ever since you collapsed in a heap of breathless satisfaction after your latest encounter.

Without uttering a single word to you, you heard Mando’s heavy footsteps echo throughout the metallic hull and disappear into the fresher to finally wash the grime from his body. 

When he finally exited, you attempted to apologise to him one more time. Unfortunately, he was thoroughly uninterested in anything you had to say. You stood before him, the threadbare blanket from the bunk wrapped around you, pleading for mercy. A formidable bounty hunter reduced to a trembling wreck, begging for Mando's forgiveness. Mando did not respond to anything you said. Instead, he immediately excused himself while mumbling about checking the hyperdrive generator. 

✯✯✯✯✯

Throughout the last few miserable days, you have distracted yourself from the uneasy atmosphere which hangs heavy in the ship by thoroughly polishing each one of your blasters and thinking back to happier times. 

Like the time when Mando stripped himself from his flightsuit for the first time and allowed you to finally see him almost entirely. As entirely as you ever would.

The way his taut, toned flesh felt underneath your fingers as you traced each ridge of his muscles with delicate, tentative fingers. His sweaty skin slapped against yours, an obscene noise which reverberated throughout the rest of the ship.

As you lie back on your bunk, you cannot help your fingers trailing down your abdomen. Lower and lower until they reach between your thighs. 

You are stunned by how wet you are before you have even touched yourself, so turned on by merely the memories of Mando.

You gather your wetness with your fingers before you begin moving them in a circular motion over your sensitive bundle of nerves. 

You think back to that first time you laid eyes upon Mando. His impressive physique. The way he picked up the pace to fuck you even harder when you raked your nails down his flesh. Moaning and grunting into your neck as you left marks down his broad back. 

You remember the unmistakable scent of sex that lingered in the air afterwards, amplified by the fact there were now two bare bodies during your encounters, not just one. It was almost overwhelming to your senses, the scent of him. So masculine and musky. So Mando.

You groan at the memory, clenching around nothing. You feel so empty, desperate to feel the delicious burn as Mando’s thick cock stretches you and reaches parts of you never filled before. You slide two fingers inside yourself and begin thrusting out. Although it satisfies the ache, it pales in comparison to the fullness and completeness you feel whenever Mando snaps his hips forward and thrusts into you in one fluid motion. 

You try to remember how he felt, pathetically imagining that your fingers are in any way comparable to his touch. To his length. It is the best you are going to get, for now.

Your nipples pebble and tighten beneath the thin cotton shirt you wear. The material provides some friction, but nothing as satisfying as when Mando would roll them between his thumb and forefinger, causing you to throw your head back in ecstasy. Still, you moan at the memory, continuing to thrust your fingers inside of you with one hand while the other massages your clit. 

“Mando,” you gasp when you pick the pace up. 

Both hands and your fingers working in tandem still are nowhere near as satisfying as even one of Mando’s thick, calloused digits. 

“Kriff, Mando!” you yell as your legs begin trembling.

You are so close now. That familiar feeling builds somewhere deep inside of you. A coil tightening, ready to release. 

A familiar voice behind you, tone full of concern, “Are you okay? I heard–” followed by a gasp of surprise and hastily retreating footsteps kills the mood instantly.

“Sith hells!” you exclaim, annoyed to have been interrupted when you were so close to climax.

That frustrated feeling soon gives way to embarrassment as you realise that Mando probably heard you from all the way up in the cockpit. He has spent much of his time up there, only descending the ladder to use the fresher or prepare himself rations. Even then, he usually only comes down when he can hear that you have sealed yourself into your bunk for the night. 

You must have called his name far louder than you had realised in the throes of passion. You wonder how you will ever face him again. You pull your pants up and step out of the bunk, keen to at least attempt to converse with the stubborn buckethead. 

Fortunately, you do not have to wait long. Mando soon emerges from the fresher. There is an awkward silence. He stands there, clad in his flightsuit and helmet, clenching and unclenching his gloved fists at his sides repeatedly. It is a mannerism you recognise well, usually seen when he is trying to size up a target or decide his next move. Is that how he sees you—as prey?!

“Mando,” you breathe, “Please, can we talk?”

Mando does not move a muscle. He stands perfectly still, at full height. A looming, intimidating presence in the darkness of the hull. 

“Look, I know I upset you the other day,” you begin, sincerely laying out your feelings and hoping that he comprehends how remorseful you are. “I’m so sorry, Mando. Please believe me. I know what I said was thoughtless, but I wasn’t thinking. I would never expect you to take your helmet off for me. I know how much being a Mandalorian means to you. I would never try to come between you and your Creed,” you promise.

You briefly pause, searching Mando’s body language for the smallest clue as to his feelings. Unfortunately, he is so used to hiding his emotions from the rest of the galaxy that you cannot glean even a crumb of information.

“I miss you, Mando,” you sigh, “And not just like that!” you hastily add, hoping that he does not think your apology is in any way related to the compromising position he just caught you in. 

Mando remains perfectly still. It’s progress, at least. He has not retreated. You take that as a sign to continue. 

“I miss the nights we spent together in the cockpit, sharing memories of our past and discussing our hopes for the future. The way you would always make sure there was a warm cup of caf for me each morning when I finally hauled myself from the bunk. You were always so eager to rise, while I have never been a morning person,” you smile fondly, attempting to fight the tears that have suddenly pooled on your waterline. “Remember when you showed me each of your weapons? Showing me just how you liked them polished and ordered. Somewhere along the way, they became our arsenal, Mando. Our weapons are together in the locker, side-by-side. Just like us.”

You finally get the first clue of the impact your words are having on Mando when his broad shoulders rise and fall. The shaky breath he takes is amplified by his vocoder. Reminiscing has left him emotional on some level, too. It’s a positive sign. You make headway with it.

“I will forever be grateful for the day I overheard that conversation with Karga in that Cantina on Nevarro. Even though I used to curse this ship after I first came aboard, I think it was the best thing that ever happened to me. Without it and the loan you took out to cover costs, you would never have required someone else. I know…” you sigh, choosing your next words carefully as you are painfully aware that you are likely going to come dangerously close to overstepping another boundary. “I know that you do not always take kindly to strangers, Mando. I know that you have been alone for so long that you have probably forgotten what it feels like to be with someone else. But what we had was something special. I miss that. I miss us, Mando.”

Mando’s helmet falls, then. His unrelenting, steely gaze is finally off you. You are getting through to him. You keep talking, hoping that your words have the desired effect.

“You mean so much more to me than our encounters, Mando,” you confess. “I enjoyed every second, don’t get me wrong. But I would take them all back in a heartbeat to go back to how things were before. I would rather have only had you in my life platonically than having you like that and losing you…

What happens next catches you completely off-guard.

Firstly, Mando tilts his helmet up. His helmet is finally level with you again, focused on you. You look into the dark, T-visor where you imagine his eyes would be. You can almost feel his eyes on you. Your heart starts thundering. You feel that connection back. That spark.

Before you even have time to digest his actions, Mando’s deep voice finally breaks the silence:

“I love you,” he says simply. 

Does he love you?! You are sure you misheard him. Your desperate mind is playing the cruellest trick of all. 

“Y-You love me?” you choke out in disbelief.

“I do.”

“Oh, Mando, I love you too,” you tearfully whisper.

“Din,” Mando rasps.

You look at him questioningly.

“My name,” Mando nods, “It’s Din. Din Djarin.”

“Din Djarin,” you murmur the name of the man you love with such reverence, as though it is a sacred prayer, enjoying the way your mouth curves around each letter. 

Your head is still spinning from Din’s declaration and the reveal of his name. You have barely had time to process the events which have just transpired when he drops the next bombshell on you.

“I want to remove my helmet in front of you,” Din declares, “I want you to know me entirely.”

“Din, I wouldn’t expect such a thing,” you shake your head frantically, “Just because we have confessed our feelings, I would never expect you to take such a drastic step.”

“That…” he sighs, “Is precisely why I am taking such a step.”

You do not have time to vocalise any further protestations. Before another thought can enter your mind, Din lifts shaky gloved hands to the side of his helmet. You hear the unmistakable sound of a Mandalorian helmet depressurising. Something you had only ever heard through the door of the fresher until now.

Din trembles as he lifts his helmet. The emotion of the moment takes its toll as he prepares to finally bear his face to you. Your mind almost goes blank. All you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears and his heavy breaths.

As the gleaming helmet finally begins to lift across his features and reveal his face to you, you get your first glimpse of the man you love.

You see patchy stubble across his jawline, a neatly trimmed moustache plush which sits atop plush, full lips, a strong nose and then, with his helmet fully removed, his most striking feature of all. His eyes. The most soulful pair of deep brown eyes that you have ever encountered.

Din Djarin is stunning. Heartachingly so. 

With just one look at his face, you know that you will never be able to allow this beautiful man to slip through your fingers. 

“Din,” you whisper, your eyes filling with tears as he stands there before you, his helmet clutched before him as he looks up at you.

There is so much nervousness and anxiety in his gaze that your heart aches for him. Unable to bear the eye contact any longer, Din bends down and places his helmet at his feet with a satisfying clunk. 

He stands up straight again, but not to his full height. With his face bared and the slight tremble evident in his body. You no longer see a hulking Mandalorian warrior and feared bounty hunter. Instead, you see a frightened man, who has never known such intimacy before.

“You are so handsome, Din Djarin,” you whisper, as you close the distance between you. 

Din’s mouth hangs open as your words sink in. You raise your hand, realising you are trembling with emotion, and timidly place it along his jawline. The patchy stubble is scratchy underneath your fingers.

“Devastatingly handsome, in fact,” you clarify.

“Thank you,” Din nods gratefully.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Din swallows thickly, steadying himself. When his brown eyes fly open and meet yours again, you notice the apprehension has been replaced by something different altogether.

Din’s brown eyes are aflame, burning with desire for you. You sense he is desperate to act on his feelings, but unsure of how to proceed.

“Can I kiss you?” you request.

“I’ve never kissed anyone before,” Din murmurs, closing his eyes again.

“You’ll learn quickly,” you say encouragingly. 

Din nods slowly, without opening his eyes. 

You close the distance between you, hovering an inch from his lips. You want Din to make the final move, to bring your lips together.

When he finally does, it is so achingly sweet and timid that you are surprised this is the same man who has bent you over crates and driven into you over and over, at a relentless pace. Until you were bruised and sore the next day from the force. 

Din pulls away, breathing deeply. A simple touch has been almost overwhelming for him. 

You wait for his next move, allowing him to take the lead with what he is comfortable with. When Din finally leans in again, he is more eager to claim your lips. The kisses deepen, growing increasingly frenzied as your tongues collide. Your hand trails along Din’s jawline and grazes along his neck. When you move your hands into his hair and tangle your fingers in the soft strands there, Din groans and presses his body against you.

In response, you lean your head to the side to give him unfettered access to your mouth. Din does not hesitate to take advantage, deepening the kiss without hesitation. He moves his enormous hands up to your cheeks, cupping them in his enormous hands. 

Your kisses grow more desperate and frenzied, the moaning and panting increasing. Although Din was inexperienced and clumsy at first, your teeth clashing and his tongue searching yours desperately before he learned a more pleasurable ratio of tongue to mouth, you discover that he is indeed a quick learner. He nibbles on your lip, using his teeth in a way that he discovers you like as you throw your head backwards and gasp his name. You are still getting accustomed to the novelty of being able to call him something other than Mando. 

When your lungs burn, Din finally pulls away. The two of you furiously gulp air into your lungs, steadying your breaths as your eyes meet. You allow yourself to look at Din once again, admiring the features which are so new to you. Yet somehow, comfortingly familiar. You feel as though you have always known his face. In Din’s brown eyes, you see awe, shock and lust. Despite their already dark colour, they are blackened by something primal.

You are about to suggest taking this to your bunk when Din drops to his knees before you, a dark look on his face. You are about to question the gesture when he hooks his thumbs in the waistband of your pants and shimmies them down your legs as he goes. 

He kisses a path up your legs, pushing himself up so he kneels one leg as he pays particular attention to your inner thighs. Din takes his time teasing you. He removes the final barrier between you, discarding the pesky fabric elsewhere. 

When Din finally kneels before you, your glistening core bare to him you feel your knees weaken as he licks his lips at the sight in front of him. You groan, barely able to remain vertical. Thankfully, Din is holding your hips firmly in position, his gloved hands digging into your flesh.

At the sight of him on his knees like this before you, you think that this experience cannot possibly be any more arousing.

Then, his tongue touches you where you have been aching for him to place his mouth most of all, and you discover how wrong you were. 

He wastes no time sliding his tongue through your wet folds. Din makes up for his inexperience with enthusiasm and you move your hands down to run your fingers through his soft, dark curls. Keen to keep him in just the right spot, especially when he finally places his tongue where your fingers had been frantically circling minutes ago. 

“Din!” you gasp, when his tongue picks up its pace, clenching your thighs around his head and feeling his facial hair tickle your inner thighs.

Hearing his name fall from your lips in such a desperate manner only encourages him. He continues lapping at your core with a renewed fire and determination.

“Just there, just like that,” you praise.

Din continues for a few more moments and you feel your orgasm gathering pace within you. When your legs begin to shake, he moves his head back and you almost scream in frustration. But then you see the look on his face, and his sins are soon forgiven.

“Know how long I’ve wanted to bury my face between your thighs?” Din rasps, his voice barely audible and muffled thanks to his current position. “So beautiful,” he adds, before his tongue is on you again and all coherent thought leaves.

The pace is relentless now, Din swirling his tongue around your most sensitive spot as he seems driven to please you. To have you screaming his name so loud they can hear you all across the galaxy.

You chant his name over and over as your orgasm finally breaks, causing pleasure to reverberate throughout your body. Every inch of you is on fire for him. Din looks up at you, his brown eyes practically black. He makes an obscene slurping noise as he seems determined to collect everything on his tongue, not allowing a single drop of you to go to waste.

“Delicious,” Din rasps as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, looking at you with a satisfied smirk. 

You cannot believe how much he seems to relish in your release. How much it arouses him. You know he has always enjoyed pleasing you, just as much as receiving his release. Now, his benevolent nature is on full display once again. 

Satisfied you can at least stand by yourself, Din rises to his feet. He looms over you, eyes meeting yours and softening briefly, with something which looks suspiciously like love. You wonder how long he has looked at you like that. How many affectionate glances have been stolen from your eyes by his helmet? 

None of that matters, now.

Your train of thought is interrupted as Din resumes kissing you, pinning you up against the cold metallic walls of the Razor Crest. You can barely breathe, unable to move for a few moments as he kisses you. Once you regain feeling in your trembling legs, you begin nudging Din in the direction of the bunk.

He never breaks the kiss as you stumble across the floor. Din cannot get enough of kissing you, his enormous hands roaming all over your body. 

The kiss is only broken once the back of your knees hits the bunk. You sit on the hard surface, looking up at him flirtatiously through your eyelashes. You decide Din is far too clothed for your liking and move to free his straining bulge from his tight brown flightsuit. Before you can feel his familiar length in your hand, he places his hand on your wrist and moves you away from him.

You look at him in confusion before he whispers, “Lie back, cyar’ika. Let me take care of you.”

You do as he says, but not before divesting yourself of your clothes. You lie back, awaiting him. Buzzing with excitement to finally lay eyes on Din Djarin in his entirety.

You are entranced as you watch his muscles contract and relax as he removes his flightsuit. Broad muscles and chest bared to you, then his stomach and lower... his muscular thighs and toned calves. The most incredible sight you have ever seen.

Din crawls up the bunk and positions himself on top of you, supporting himself with his elbows as he resumes your makeout session with just as much veracity as before. He plunges his tongue into your mouth over and over, desperate to taste you.

It seems as though Din is scared that he will never have a chance to claim you like this again. Later, you will remind him that you are his for the rest of your days.

For now, you cannot form words, conveying your pleasure only through broken sounds which are torn from your body by Din’s skilled mouth. 

The usual straining metallic groans of the Razor Crest as it hurtles through hyperspace are joined by its occupants’ moans and gasps as they collide.

You notice that Din has finally shed his gloves when he takes your breasts in his hands. Squeezing the soft flesh and staring at them as though it is the first time he has ever laid eyes upon them. In a way, it is the first time he has seen many of your features with his own eyes, finally free from the dark visor that distorts everything.

Suddenly remembering he can take your flesh in his mouth, Din begins kissing the valley between your breasts. He trails kisses along both of them, one at a time, paying them equal attention. As though he is worshipping you. Discovering new ways he can show his affection for you. With his helmet removed, an entire galaxy of new possibilities has been opened to him. Now, there are so many ways to demonstrate his affection for you, to revere all the parts of your body he loves so much. 

Although you are enjoying his ministrations, you are growing somewhat frustrated by Din’s languid pace. The frenzied kisses and touches have given way to gentle, almost timid, exploration of your body from Din’s lips. When you are about to whine pathetically and beg him to pay attention to your aching buds, Din finally envelops them in his wet heat. He begins paying careful attention to the most sensitive part of your breast. The place where you most wanted his mouth. 

You gasp as he begins mouthing sloppy kisses around your nipple, before finally swirling his tongue around your hardened peak. You arch your back off the bunk, giving more of yourself to him. Even in your desire-addled state, you think about how much better his mouth feels than gloved fingers and hands kneading your breasts. 

You grind your hips up against Din’s hardness, desperate for some friction. Clenching around nothing as he continues sucking your nipple, each swirl of his tongue only making you more desperate for him.

When you can take it no longer, you place your hand on Din’s head and pull his hair lightly. He looks up at you, raising a dark eyebrow at you.

“Din, please,” you whine, desperate for him to finally take you.

Often, the man you knew only as Mando would tease you at this point. When he had used his deft fingers to draw an orgasm or two from you, leaving you desperate for him. You knew he was satisfied that you were ready for him, but he still wanted to hear it from your mouth. Before giving you what you wanted, he would command you to use your words in a firm tone. Imploring you to tell him where you wanted him. 

Fortunately, it appears that the man who has confessed his love for you, will not cruelly tease you. Din is just as desperate as you are; aching for that moment when he finally enters you. 

Din kisses a hot trail up the column of your neck, thrusting his hips against you in desperation. He joins his lips with yours one last time before leaning up and taking himself in hand to line himself up with you.

“Wanted to savour this moment but, kriff! You’re so perfect…” Din rambles, “Don’t think I can wait,” he grunts as he notches himself at your entrance. 

“Then don’t,” you sigh, begging him to put you both out of your misery. 

Din nods, joining your lips one last time before he slides himself into you in one swift, fluid moment. You practically see stars. 

Somehow, he feels even bigger. It has not been too long since your last encounter. Even still, you have forgotten how impressive his length is. Your fantasies could not accurately capture how his hardness touches places so deep inside of you that you wonder how it is possible. 

Although the friction and sensation are delicious, particularly as Din keeps pressing kisses all over your face and neck, you know that you won’t last long. Since Din caught you earlier when you were so close, you have been on the edge almost continually. Now, he is thrusting into you at a relentless pace. That familiar ache is back. This time, there are no interruptions. Din does not slow down or pull away. You quickly come with another gasp of his name.

After watching you come undone, you are surprised that Din does not let himself go. That he does not allow himself the release you sense he is so desperately chasing. Instead, he continues to ride out your orgasm as he thrusts into you harshly.

“One more,” Din encourages, cupping your cheek in his hand, “I know you have one more for me.”

You nod shakily, eager to please him. In response, Din clashes your lips together, grunting against your lips as he finds a new increased tempo that you are stunned he could muster. All the while impressively maintaining a steady rhythm. 

“That’s it,” Din encourages as he feels the way your pants increase and your legs tremble.

When you come with another shout of his name, Din finally lets himself go. His thrusts become increasingly erratic before he finally comes with a shout of your name, burying his face into your neck. His pants are warm against your neck as he paints your belly with hot, thick ropes of his spend. 

Din stays like that for a few more moments, careful not to hurt you with his weight as he regains his composure lying on top of you. You feel so content and begin absentmindedly tracing circles into his warm, broad back. 

Then, he lifts himself from you. You smile when he lays his head next to you on the pillow, still feeling your heart leap as you realise that you actually get to look at his face. Din looks thoroughly pleased with the events of the night. Happy that he could please you over and over. 

“I love you, Din Djarin,” you whisper fondly as you bring your hand up to his jawline, stroking his cheek softly with your thumb. 

“I love you too, ner kar’ta,” Din smiles in return, turning his cheek to press a kiss on the palm of your hand.

Since that first encounter in the Cantina on Nevarro, you and Mando have always been partners. Travelling through the galaxy as a formidable, feared pair of bounty hunters.

Now, you and Din are partners… in every sense of the word. 

[beskarandblasters]

Stonecatcher

Chapter Two: It's Strange What Desire Will Make Foolish People Do

Din Djarin x OFC Athalia (Second Person POV)

Artwork: The Lovers by René Magritte Gif: @cherubispunk Series Masterlist | Series Playlist | Din Djarin Masterlist

Series summary: An up-and-coming bounty hunter and a promising arms dealer cross paths on Dantooine. What starts as a business relationship quickly becomes more. How long can you bury your emotions and be a stonecatcher for someone else before you finally snap?

Series warnings: pre season one of The Mandalorian, instant smut but slow burn romantically, Athalia is able-bodied but other than that has no physical description, angst

Chapter summary: The Mandalorian returns, leaving with more than just a blaster, of course.

Word count: 2.7k

Chapter warnings: finger sucking, dirty talk, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie

It’s been a few weeks since you’ve seen the Mandalorian. You remember that night fondly but not because of the sex. No, you remember that night fondly because of the sale you made. It was your first sale to someone not local to here. While it was only an eight-credit sale, you had to start somewhere. 

Business has been doing good, though. For some strange reason, Casia has seen an influx of travelers lately. The inn has no vacancy and the cantina is busier than ever. Sheva’s been working more hours to accommodate the boom in customers, which leaves you to your own devices. And while you do miss spending time with her you also haven’t had much to think about it. With the amount of people passing through you’ve been able to make even more sales, and gain more inventory. Mando was just the beginning. 

To capitalize on all of the business Casia has been seeing, the cantina is having an event tonight. String lights hang from the roof and tables are set outside. It’s a bit of a risk having the outside by the river instead of inside the cantina. But it was all intentional. 

You’re helping Sheva put wildflowers in vases for the party, sitting at a table by the water's edge. It’s golden hour and the party is set to begin at sundown. It’s the first quality time you’ve had with Sheva in a while and she’s catching you up on her escapades over the past few weeks. 

“I told him to meet me out back after my shift was done,” she says, putting together another vase. 

“Well, did he?”

“He did,” she says suggestively. 

“You never told me what he looked like.”

“What does it matter? He’s long gone now.”

“Was he a Twi’lek?”

“Maybe…”

Maybe it’s the scenery and or the fact that you’re reconnecting with her, but either way, you’re feeling grateful about where you are for once. It almost feels like everything is falling into place on its own time. 

“You and your Twi’leks,” you joke, getting up and setting a vase on each table. 

“Oh yeah?? How about you and your Mandalorians,” she retorts. 

“That was one time.”

“You never told me how that was by the way,” standing up from her seat and placing a hand on her hip.

“I didn’t?”

“No, you just told me that he bought a scope and then you had sex.”

“That’s basically what happened.”

“…But how was it?” she says.

“Hot… but also kind of awkward. That’s usually how one-night stands tend to go,” you say, setting a vase on the last table. 

“And you’re okay with that? I didn’t take you for a one-night stand type of gal.”

“I mean… I’ll never see him again.”

She’s standing in front of you, the river behind her and the wind catching her hair. She doesn’t respond to you right away, looking past your head and wearing a smirk. 

“What is it?”

“Are you sure about that?” 

“Sure about what?”

“Turn around.”

You glance over your shoulder to find him, walking towards you. The sunset reflects off his helmet and the scene is almost… surreal. You were just talking about him and all of a sudden he appears. It’s like a scene straight out of a romance novel. 

Until he opens his mouth. 

“I went to your house and I couldn’t find you. I need something else.”

“…Okay? What is it that you need?”

“A blaster.”

“Alright…” you say, turning back to Sheva, “I’ll be back later, I guess.”

“Have so much fun,” she says smugly, waving at Mando. 

You walk back to your house side by side, silence hanging in the air which leaves you with your thoughts. 

Why is he here?

Dantooine is on a trade route but the planet itself is out of the way and so is Casia. 

“Why are you here?” you ask. 

“I already told you. I need a blaster.”

“You can’t get that anywhere else?”

“Are you saying you don’t want my business?”

“No, I’m not saying that at all. I’m just wondering why you came here specifically. Where are you from?”

“Currently I’m on Nevarro.”

Maker, that’s far. It doesn’t make sense for him to come all this way for a blaster. 

…Unless he came here for other reasons. 

You think back to the one-night stand and while it was a little awkward it was still hot. Maybe he feels the same way. 

“That’s quite a ways away from here, Mando,” you point out. 

“Your prices are fair.”

“Right…” you say, opening your front door. 

Luckily, the smell of gas has dissipated over the past few weeks. Not that it mattered to him. But if this encounter is going to end like the last one, it’s nice to not have to smell that while Mando’s pounding the living daylights out of you. 

Your front room is crowded, filled with boxes and all sorts of weapons lining the walls. He looks all around the room, not sure what to focus on first. 

“I’ve… accumulated a lot more stuff since you’ve been here.”

“I see that,” he says. 

“What kind of blaster are you looking for?”

“Standard pistol.”

“Gotcha,” you say, searching one of your shelves. You find one he might like– black with a tiny amount of silver. You grab it off the shelf and turn around to show him. 

“How’s this one?”

“Perfect. How much.”

“Four hundred credits.”

“Not a bad deal,” he says, taking it in his hands. He examines the blaster carefully, the orange fingertips of his gloves running up and down the barrel. His hand wraps around the grip with his finger ghosting the trigger. He aims it at the wall, and for some reason, this is doing something for you. Is this how he felt when he watched you clean his rifle?

“Feels good?”

“Feels good,” he affirms. 

“Okay…” you start as he attaches it to his belt, “Do you need anything else?”

“Actually,” he says, helmet snapping back to you, “Do you have any of that… oil you used on my rifle?”

“Wow. Are you actually going to clean your shit?”

“…Yes.”

“You don’t want me to do it for you?”

He shifts his weight between both feet just like he did the last time he was here, fidgeting while he thinks of a comeback. But his mind draws a blank. Instead, he sighs and says, “Just get on your back already.”

Your mouth falls open but you can’t let him know of your bewilderment. So you quickly say, “Thought you’d never ask.”

You turn on your heel and lead him to your bedroom, swaying your hips as you walk. He wastes no time, grabbing you by the waist and pushing you down on the bed. You help him out, pulling off your underwear for him. He hesitates for a moment and you just assume it’ll be the same as last time, you spit into your hand and he shoves his cock inside you. 

But this time he stands by the bed, hands on his hips, and says, “Get up.”

“…Okay?” you say, wondering where he’s going with this. 

He grabs your waist again and turns you around so your back is towards him. 

“Bend over,” he growls in your ear. 

So that’s how this is going to go. 

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” you say, bending over your bed for him and turning your head to the side, cheek resting against the mattress. 

He hikes up your skirt and caresses your ass with his gloved hand. Just when you think you know how this is going to shake out, he surprises you. 

He tosses his glove beside your head and it takes a second for you to register that he took his glove off. Your mouth falls open and he mutters, “Good girl.”

He leans forward, bending over you, and says, “Close your eyes.”

You do as you’re told, closing your eyes while his gloved hand grips your chin, keeping your mouth open while he places two fingers inside. 

“Suck,” he commands, closing your mouth shut around his fingers. 

Kriff, that’s hot. 

You swirl your tongue around his fingers, putting on an obscene performance. And although you can’t see it, he cocks his helmet to the side, watching you act like such a good girl for him. Once he decides you’ve done enough, he pulls his fingers from your mouth. You make sure to keep your eyes closed as you anticipate what he’s going to do next. 

His fingers tease your entrance, softly playing with you until he slides both of them inside you. You gasp at the sudden girth, taking a second to get adjusted.

“If you can take my cock, you can take two of my fingers,” he reminds you, curling his fingers against your walls. 

“I-I know,” you breathe out, voice high pitched. 

He’s incredibly skilled with his fingers. You’re already on your way to your first orgasm. It makes sense since he can’t take his helmet off. And you’re certainly not complaining.

The tension built up in your core spills over and your release gushes out of you, running down your thighs. Waves of pleasure course throughout your body and you’re shocked at how soon he got you there. 

He pulls his fingers from you, grabbing your shoulder with his other hand. You feel his cock enter you, splitting you open and leaving you writhing. His other hand grabs your waist as he fucks you like you’re nothing but a toy to him, an object made for his pleasure. Except the way he fingered you tells you otherwise. 

You’re too cock drunk to formulate a coherent thought about that. Instead, you focus on the immense pleasure you’re feeling. Everything from the tips of your ears to your toes feels like they’re set aflame, mind going fuzzy with nothing but thoughts of him. 

“That’s right. Take my cock like a good girl,” he says, voice all sultry and modulated.

You whimper in response, the words you were going to say caught in your throat and coming out as mangled sobs. His grip on your shoulder tightens, holding you in place as he rails you. Stars dance in the black backdrop of your closed eyes, tears would surely spill over if you opened them. But he said to keep your eyes closed and you intend to listen to him. He didn’t ask you to do that last time. Could it be because his glove came off? Because he revealed his skin? You’ve seen his cock but for some reason his hand is off-limits. How strange. The added element of anonymity during a time so intimate excites you. It only makes you grow wetter; more aroused. 

Before you know it, you’re coming again. This orgasm is deeper and stronger than the first one, all thanks to his impressive size. Your cunt clenches and releases his cock in a way that triggers his orgasm too. He holds you steady as he spills his cum inside you, a feeling you didn’t know you missed in his absence, a feeling you didn’t know you’d ever experience again. 

He pulls out of you when he’s done and it isn’t until you feel him sit on the bed beside you that you open your eyes. His glove is back on his hand and he sits with his thighs spread wide, a space that looks so inviting to sit. He takes a moment to rest after the energy he just exerted before rising, waiting for you to pull yourself together.

You stand before him, smoothing down your skirt while looking at anything but the visor of his helmet. He stands stiff as a board, hands balled up into fists at his sides. A thought crosses your mind. You could ask him to join you at the party at the cantina. It seems kind of pointless considering he can’t eat or drink in front of others. And he doesn’t seem like one for dancing. 

But you want to ask him just so you can be seen out in public with him, other than bringing him to your house. That feels a little insane, a little possessive even. You’re not in any sort of relationship. You’ve only had sex twice now. And you’re developing an inkling of feelings. This can’t be good. 

Come on, Athalia. You can ask him. 

“What are you doing now?”

“Probably heading out soon.”

“I was just wondering if…” you trail off. 

He tilts his helmet, looking directly at you. You finally meet his visor, taking a deep breath and asking, “Do you want to come to the party at the cantina tonight?”

“That’s a nice offer. But no thanks.”

“That’s okay…”

He turns to leave but you can’t let him go just yet. 

“Wait! Can I ask you something?”

“What is it?”

“Why did you come all the way here? You could’ve gotten that blaster anywhere.”

“Your prices seemed fair. It looks like it was worth it, too. Your inventory has grown.”

“Right… Let me get you that cleansing oil before you go.”

You slide past him in the door frame, heart fluttering at being so close to him yet again. His visor watches you the whole time and you imagine it’s still fixated on you as you lead him to the front room. You open the cabinet and grab the cleansing oil while he fishes for the credits in his pocket.

“How much?”

“Ten for the oil.”

You turn around and hand it to him. He places the credits for both the blaster and the oil in your hand, nodding at you with the slight tip of his helmet before walking to the door. 

But he stops himself before he leaves. He turns around and says, “I never got your name.”

“Athalia.”

“Thanks. I’ve got some contacts looking to come this way but I wasn’t sure who they should be asking for.”

New customers.

“That’s nice of you!” you say, fiddling with your hands, “I guess you could call it… Athalia’s Arms.”

“Athalia’s Arms… Got it. I’m sure we’ll meet again,” he says, before opening the door and setting off into the night, cape billowing in the wind. 

He claims he was just here to buy something but… Could that be a lie? Is he feeling an inkling of something more like you are? He did turn down your offer to go to the party tonight but if it were really just about the blasters, wouldn’t he have gotten that literally anywhere else? Coming here must’ve cost him so much in fuel. 

Maybe just maybe there’s something there, crossing the line between a business owner and customer relationship, turning into something deeper and more meaningful. 

That’s exactly what’s happening. Because deep down you’re a little butthurt that he didn’t say yes to the party, that he didn’t even stay with you for a little bit after the sex. 

You shouldn’t care. He’s just a client, just a customer… Right? 

Wrong, he was never just a customer. He was always something more and he’ll remain something more if you don’t put a stop to it before you only get yourself hurt. 

You need to talk to Sheva about this, so you decide to pop back into the party alone. It’s well past sundown now and it makes you wonder how long you were with Mando. There’s a breeze in the air that leaves goosebumps on your skin and there’s not a single soul around. 

As you get closer to the cantina you see that… the party’s over. Everyone has left. 

For once, you don’t want to be alone and yet it’s like the universe is forcing you to. Sheva’s either at home sleeping or hooking up with someone from the party. And Sulee has been in bed for hours at this point. 

You sigh and turn around to head home, head hanging low while you’re left to reflect. He crossed the galaxy to buy a standard blaster and to bury his cock inside you. And that just has to mean something. 

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics

Tag list: @wannab-urs @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @freelancearsonist @djarins-cyare @survivingandenduring @littlegrungegirlaf @pamasaur @chiyo13 @pedrostories @schnarfer @burntheedges

[endlessthxxghts]

Solace

Din Djarin/The Mandalorian x afab!reader || W/C: 4.3k

Summary: You help Din release his frustrations after he comes back from a weeklong hunt.

Content/Warnings: Canon divergent around season 3 (no Grogu here; one tiny reference to Living Waters). Reader is able-bodied, but there are no specific physical descriptions. Pet names for both reader and Din (fem pet names for reader). Implied established relationship (you've seen his face and call him Din) - THEY'RE IN LOVE. Reader knows a bit of Mando'a. Helmet comes off. 18+ MDNI. This is 100% porn. Boot riding...blanket..riding...(there's a lot of riding lolz). Multiple orgasms. Cunnilingus. Din is a talker when his mouth isn't occupied. Blow job/face fucking. Unprotected P in V sex. Reader is on whatever form of birth control they have in space LMAO, so #twinkie time😋. Hints of a breeding kink. Praise kink (lots of it). Switch BDSM dynamics. Soft Dom!Din along with subby/desperate!Din. Sub!Reader and soft Dom!Reader. Please let me know if I missed anything! Xx

A/N: First picture was made by @djarin-desires, and honestly, this whole oneshot was inspired by this post they made! I literally could not stop thinking about these pictures all day, so I just had to write my ✨thots✨ down. I hope you enjoy!! Other two photos are found on Pinterest - middle does not represent anything about reader’s physical appearance.

MASTERLIST || FIC NOTIFS BLOG

“Oh, shit-” you gasp. “Din, please,” eyes rolling back in pleasure, your body shivering in its nakedness compared to his fully armored form. 

“What is it, sweet girl?” he coos, his fingers caressing your cheekbone, pushing the hair from your eyes. 

“Need- stars- need more,” you cry out, your current situation proving to only bring you to the edge, but not carry you off of it. 

“One more like this, cyar’ika, then I’ll give you what you want,” Din reassures you, his leather-clad thumb running across your bottom lip, hooking himself in your mouth for you to make a mess of. “I wanna see that boot soaked, you hear me?”

Din always gets like this when he comes back from a weeklong bounty hunt. He gets hard. Dominating. In need of control. To take back the situation that got out of hand. 

You were sitting on the ground cleaning one of his blasters when he came in. He was tense. Weirdly quiet. He’s always quiet, but not with you, not for a few years now. He threw the bounty into the carbon and froze him, his chest plate rising with every breath. You knew him well enough now to know when he’s seething, and this was it. 

“Din?” you called out softly. 

He just points his helmet at you, the visor staring you down. 

“Everything okay?”

“What do you think?” He responds rather harshly.

“...Din,” you whisper, feeling every ounce of anger in those four words.

You like how it ends in these situations, though. It always ends with him a whimpering mess beneath you. There’s usually some kind of switch. He takes a third orgasm out of you, and always on the third, he becomes needy. Desperate. He just wants to be inside of you. To be balls deep and stay there, to release all of his tension while being wrapped up in you. 

You’re his solace. His warmth. His home. He always needs you. But right now, he needs his control back, so even though it’s you who’s in control by the end of the night, you stay prettily on your knees and obey dutifully. 

“I hear you, Din,” you struggle to get out with his thumb holding your tongue down, drool spilling from the corners of your mouth. 

Your thighs are on fire from your constant back and forth motion, the squelch of your slick rubbing across his shoe sending blood straight to his groin. He can feel himself itching to make you rise, to spread your legs and split you open until he can’t hold himself up anymore. But he knows you’re close even though you whine and plea for more. He knows your tells—the way your eyes struggle to stay open, the sweat beading at your temples, the way you slowly start to clamp down harder and harder on his thumb. His personal favorite, though, he discovered in this new position, is the way you start hugging tighter onto his leg, your chest rubbing against his thigh plate in an attempt to cool yourself off, but you’re just so close, the cool beskar doing nothing to ease the heat. 

“Just like that, pretty girl, come on,” Din groans, the sight before him truly testing his strength. You two have done many things together, but this? This is something new, and Din isn’t sure how long he can last. “I know you can give me one more, baby. Just one more, and then I get to feel you, come on,” he pleads, voice bubbling up into a whine. 

Oh, he’s starting to break, already? 

The thought is what sends you over, your hips stuttering in their rhythm as your arousal pours out of you, your clit shooting a sharp sensation up your spine at the sensitivity. “Dank farrik, you’re so damn gorgeous when you cum all over me, baby, so so gorgeous,” he pulls his thumb out and spreads your drool across your mouth, cradling your cheek softly in his palm as you shake in his grasp.

“Oh, fuck- oh yes, yesyesyes, Din,” you sob, head falling back between your shoulder blades. 

“Oh, my sweet girl, Maker, you’re so beautiful,” he coos, leaning down to let the forehead of his helmet rest against yours, your hot breath fogging his visor. He smiles to himself as his vision blurs momentarily. 

Din’s hands situate themselves beneath your armpits, pulling you up to your feet and supporting you as you allow your limp legs to gain their strength again. “Can I taste you, cyar’ika?” He asks as he wraps his arms around your waist, guiding you to sit on the armory crate in the corner of the hull. 

“Thought you said you wanted to feel me?” you retort, a small smirk forming on your flushed face. 

“Yeah,” he says as he drops down to his knees. “My tongue goes first.” Even with his helmet on, you can still hear the shit-eating grin with his comment. 

Din reaches for his helmet, the hiss of air signifying it’s about to come off never fails to cause butterflies to erupt in your belly. The minute his chocolate brown eyes meet yours, your heart grows two sizes greater. Your hands reach for his face. “There’s my pretty boy,” you whisper. 

His heart nearly jumps out of his chest at your words. He turns his head to kiss your palm. “My pretty girl,” he responds, bashful. “Lean back, baby.” You lay yourself back, body resting against the metal wall as his hands settle underneath you. 

Din brings himself forward, the flat of his tongue starting at the bottom of you and licking upwards—slowly, thoughtfully, calculated. He takes his time moving through your soaked folds, as if he’s mapping it out for the first time even though he’s mapped your body more times than the amount of bounties under his belt. 

The way you moan under his touch has him groaning into you, his fingers tightening their hold, his face more flush against you. He can’t get enough. His licks turn less controlled and more hungry; he uses his lips to help rub the surrounding area as he suckles every part of you he can, drinking you in, bathing in your slick as if to reclaim himself, as he did not too long ago in the Living Waters of Mandalore. His nose nudges your sensitivity as his tongue claims your entrance, the softness of your walls dancing with the softness of his tongue makes you breathless. 

Your fingers find their way into his curls, grabbing on in an attempt to ground yourself, to keep your soul beside him as he brings you to the brink of ecstasy for the fourth time since he’s been back. You whimper in distaste as his tongue leaves your hole, but the disappointment is quickly replaced by a whimper of desperation when his mouth wraps around your throbbing bud and he sucks. “Just- oh, fuck, Din- just like that,” you let out, your hips involuntarily lifting to buck into his face.

He’s quick to bring his mouth back down to your entrance, licking up every drop of the sweet nectar you always keep him full with. His nose massages your bundle as he drinks from you, and the action prolongs your climax and syrupy moans; Din works to pull as much as he possibly can from you. It’s been a week of rations and shitty meals he can sneak. So when such a delicacy is placed before him, solely for his taking, oh, he’s not going to waste a single drop. 

By the time he’s satisfied, the bottom half of his face is covered in your shine, the armory crate’s ledge is soaked, and you’re completely blissed out—face flushed and sweaty, tired eyes, a weak smile… to the average eye, you appear properly satiated. Although, Din knows that you are far from it.

“You alright, sweet girl?” Din asks, rising to his full height again. He brings his hand out for you to take, pulling you up to stand. Delaying your answer, you wrap your hands around his neck and pull him in for a messy, open-mouthed kiss, all tongue with your flavor embedded in each and every one of his taste buds. You moan into the kiss, pulling away with a bite to his plump bottom lip. “Perfect, baby,” you smile, pulling him to the makeshift bed—a pile of blankets—in the hull that you two sleep in. 

You drop yourself down onto your knees, beginning to work his armor off from his legs as he starts on his shoulders. With you helping, he’s down to his flight suit in no time, and your mouth salivates at the sight. As soon as the last clink of the precious metal leaves his body, you’re leaning your face into him, into his bulge, pressing sweet little kisses to its covered form. You can hear Din’s breath hitch, his cock twitching under your touch. “Need you in my mouth, Din,” you say as you look up at him, his eyes already hooded over at the sight of your mouth near his length. “My turn to taste you, huh, pretty boy?” You ask in a teasing tone, his face too hot to register that you’re waiting for a response from him. 

He finally registers the question when your hand dips into his bottoms, his hardness meeting your hand eagerly. You look at him expectantly. 

Although technically it’s his cock’s turn to feel you, he cannot bring himself to deny you or your skillful mouth. He cannot bring himself to deny anything you want, really. “Y-yeah- yes, baby, your turn,” he says shakily, the anticipation putting his body into sensitivity overdrive. 

He helps rip the rest of his flight suit off, and without giving him a second to breathe, you’re already spitting in your palm and working the length of him the way you know he loves. You use your mouth in tandem, your tongue licking from his base to his tip, and instantly, a loud whimper comes from the back of Din’s throat at this particular touch. 

You’re delighted by his reaction, so you repeat the motion a few more times to pull more of those sweet sounds out. “My baby is so sensitive here, isn’t he?” You pump him with your hand as you speak, placing a wet kiss to his tip when the foreskin pulls back to expose it. 

“Kriff…” he moans, his head suddenly too heavy to maintain upright. “Mesh’la, please,” Din begs. 

With one more kiss to the tip, you stop your hand’s movement completely. “Please what, baby? Use those words, honey,” you look up at him, eyes wide and full of promises to please—as soon as he vocalizes what he wants. 

His chest is heaving already at the sight of you, on your knees and looking up at him again, yet this time around, you’re the one calling the shots. 

He prefers it this way, he thinks. Sure, he comes back from a particularly frustrating hunt and ends up taking his stress out on you. Sure, it’s the most beautiful sight seeing you so worked up and at his mercy. But he is always the one in the driver seat—calculating everyone’s every turn, every action before they even have the chance to act. Din’s mind is always active, always alert. Yet, when you have him like this, in this yielding state, it’s like his mind gets to be quiet. With you, under your touch and under your gaze, Din is able to exist in your presence without a worry. He’s finally able to just be. Not a bounty hunter, not the big and tough Mandalorian everyone fears. No, he’s Din. Your Din. Your sweet boy. Yours. And that’s the greatest honor to ever bestow upon him. At least, that’s how he sees it anyway. 

“Y-your mouth, mesh’la, p-please,” he says softly. Your eyebrow quirks up. You want just a little bit more. “Want your- need your mouth on me, baby, please,” he breathes out, attempting and failing to ease the neediness in his voice. 

You hum triumphantly before you begin pumping him again, your hand focusing on his base while your mouth lavishes his leaking head. You swirl your tongue around, the salty flavor of him quick to override your senses, and Din lets out a strangled moan, his hips softly bucking in your grasp. 

Your hand releases him, letting your mouth take full control. You grab onto his thick thighs for stability, breathing through your nose as you let the tip of him reach as far back as you can handle. He gasps when he hits the back of your throat, the twitch of his body triggering your gag reflex, your throat tightening in on where he’s most sensitive. “Oh, fuck,” he grunts, fighting his hips to stay in place and let you do your thing. 

You garble something incoherent, humming into his cock as you pull yourself on and off of him a few more times. Pulling back for a small breather, you use your finger to collect up the spit-arousal mixture from the sides of your mouth and pump it on his erection, his hips twitching once again at your ministrations. 

You know what he really wants right now, but with his head in cloud nine, you know he’ll never ask for it himself. “You wanna fuck my mouth, Din?” You ask bluntly. 

His entire face and chest turn red faster than the speed of light. He sputters in his response. “I- oh my Maker, mesh’la, is that- are- are you sure? I-”

You cut him off by leaning in to kiss his thigh. He softens in your touch. “Din, pretty boy, it’s a yes or no. One word. Choose.” 

“Yes,” he replies, not a single hesitation in sight. 

“Good boy,” you purr. “See what happens when you say what you want from me?”

You shift yourself to a more comfortable position sitting on your haunches, fluffing the blankets underneath you to soften the ache of the metal floor. You look up to Din who’s watching you eagerly but with a softness that tells you to take all your time in the world. Doing this isn’t just for him, though. Letting him take control of you here turns you on just as much as it does him, maybe even more. 

You take one more glance into his thirsty eyes, and, well, okay… maybe he enjoys this slightly more. Nonetheless, you don’t take your time because you can feel the butterflies in your core beginning to flap once again as Din brings himself closer to you, lining himself up with your mouth.

“Don’t waste this opportunity, Djarin. Better use me good, yeah?” You tease, leaning your head back slightly as you stick your salivating tongue flat out, waiting for him to enter. 

His entire body shivers at your words. “Yes, ma’am,” he says under his breath, focusing on easing himself into your mouth as steady as possible, trying to maintain some ounce of self-restraint he’s inevitably going to lose. 

Once his tip is in your mouth, his hands find their home rooted at the base of your air, his thumb reaching forward to caress the apple of your cheeks. He doesn’t move at first, apprehensive in the case he might hurt you. He’s always like this at the beginning, and every single time, you reassure him it’s okay. 

You let out a muffled mhm, his signal to keep going. Din’s fingers flex, guiding your head further in as his hips slowly meet you halfway. He’s holding his breath, you can tell in the way his belly twitches. But the moment your swallow reflex triggers around him, he’s gone. “Oh, shit-” he moans ragged, his hips never fully retreating before he’s bucking into you again. “Oh, sweet girl, fuck-” he gasps. “Always so perfect, feel so perfect around me, stars, baby-” he praises, his hips moving at a comfortable, steady pace now. 

You moan around him, eyes rolling back at how good and heavy he feels coasting the expanse of your tongue. Your spit drips further down your chin and neck with each thrust, the messiness of it all mirroring itself between your thighs. Your hands leave the expanse of your thighs and reach for the blankets underneath you. As best as you can, you shuffle them in between you, using it to grind your hips on it, giving you a much needed relief. The material catches on your clit deliciously, pulling a muffled gasp from your throat, sending the sensation up Din’s spine. 

“Oh, fuck, look at you,” he groans, his eyes fighting to stay open at the raw pleasure coursing through his veins as he starts thrusting into you harder, faster. “So pretty, baby, fuck- thank you, pretty girl,” he rambles. “Maker, you feel so damn good.” 

Your moans and whines don’t stop, they reverberate off each metal wall and into his ears, providing him with the sweetest song. Din, ever the talker, is long lost in the way you feel and the way you move. 

“Keep moving those hips, sweet girl, rub that pretty pussy on our blankets, baby.” 

“Gonna cum like that again, baby? Gonna make a mess where we sleep?” 

“Shit, gonna make me lick it up and clean it? Please make me clean it, baby,” he whines, his hips beginning to falter. 

The last thing he says to you is what sends you over the edge, your fingers gripping the blankets below you, bringing it flush against your core as if it were Din’s curls you’re hanging onto. Your hips speed up, chasing the orgasm that is just right there, and with one last thrust forward, you’re cumming. You’re breathing heavily through your nose, tears streaming down your face as you whimper around his dick, begging for the one thing you know he’s not gonna give you. 

With a few more thrusts, you can feel his cock start to twitch, and just as you suspected, he pulls out of you before he can finish. 

“Baby, no,” you cry, leaning yourself forward, chasing after him. Right away, he’s dropping down to his knees, hands still on either side of your face as he’s finally eye level with you. 

“Baby, cyar’ika, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please,” he repents, his chest rising and falling heavily, still out of breath from edging himself. “I just- I didn’t- I… I wanted to cum somewhere else, baby,” his voice falls quieter, shyer. 

Your scowl fades, forming into a more mischievous demeanor, more hungry. You can’t quite argue his reasoning. Because, you, too, would very much like him to finish… elsewhere. “Yeah, baby?” You taunt. “And where do you wanna cum, sweet boy?”

He swallows thickly, his needy eyes on yours, blacked with a ferality he’s addicted to. “In- inside,” he whispers. 

“Inside?” you’re quick to repeat. “Wanna cum inside me, sweet boy? Fill me up? I’ve made so many messes today, is it your turn to make one, baby?”

He leans in to meet your kiss, but you pull away slightly. Answer me, your face tells him. 

“Y-yeah- yes, stars, yes- fuck- please, baby, I wanna cum inside you, wanna make a mess of you so fucking bad, please-” he starts to answer. Satisfied, you cut him off with your lips on his.

You wrap your arms around his neck, lips never breaking the seal, you pull him over you as you lay yourself down on your guys’ bed, scooting farther up for your head to reach a pillow, your back barely missing your puddle of arousal. Din multitasks, grabbing one of the other near pillows and placing it underneath your hips as your body lands on the ground. Your legs are already hooked onto his waist, not giving him the space to stray too far. 

Once you’re settled, Din’s hand is cradling the back of your head while the other reaches for his cock, covered in your wetness and leaking with his own arousal. He guides himself to you, running his tip along your slick folds, stopping to tap on your clit before bringing himself back down to your entrance. He breaks the kiss when he does this, his eyes laser focused on where you two connect. His hand on the back of your head pushes to angle you down, so you can watch, too, both of you observing and listening to the lewdness of it all. 

Finally, his head catches at your entrance, pushing himself in slowly. He’s always a stretch, always something you’ll never quite really get used to, but you love the feeling. Obsessed, even. There are some days where you rile him up on purpose just so he gives it to you, no preparation or foreplay. On those days, he has you screaming, your fingernails digging deep into his back to tether yourself to reality in some kind of way. On his softer days, you have to beg him to, reassure him that it doesn’t hurt—in a bad way. 

As soon as he’s seated all the way to the hilt, he pulls back out entirely before he thrusts back in. You both moan out at the action, your pussy immediately releasing a fresh new wave of arousal around him. “Oh, fuck,” you both mutter at the same time, your eyes meet, and a euphoric smile graces each of your faces. 

“Y-you feel so good, baby, s-so fucking big,” you mewl, your hands tightening their hold around his neck, both the tips of your noses kissing each other. 

“It’s like you were made- fuck-” he stutters, his hips slowing for a brief moment, allowing himself to really feel you. “It’s like I was made for you,” he corrects himself. “I was made for you,” he says again, leaning in to slot his lips against yours.

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum,” you say against his lips. I love you. “And I was made for you,” you squeak out, your head bobbing back and forth as the pleasure brings your mind further and further into space. 

“Shit, mesh’la,” he grits between his teeth. His hips speed up at that, loving the way his native tongue sounds on yours. “Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum,” he repeats back to you. “I’m yours, cyar’ika. Yours,” he murmurs, his head crashing into the crook of your neck and shoulder, sucking and biting at the sweaty flesh. 

He sits up on his haunches for a second, hooking the crook of his elbows into your knees before leaning back over you—the angle allowing him to hit so deep and allowing his pubic area to stimulate your pulsing nerve with every thrust in—you scream out as he repeatedly makes you feel things that no one has ever been able to do, not even yourself. 

“Din,” you keen, his name leaving your mouth like a sinful prayer. “Din, baby, please, I think I’m gonna- fuck-”

“Gonna cum again for me, pretty girl?” He smirks. “Fuck, I’m never gonna stop saying this- you’re so fucking perfect. Come on, baby, cum for me, fucking soak me. Soak me before I make you fucking overflow with me, my sweet girl,” he snarls, his lips meeting yours in a bruising kiss, truly a dance of tongue and spit as he fucks into you at the same pace that brought you to yet another climax. 

Your hands yank on his fluffy curls, back arching into his body as much as this restricting angle allows you to. “Din, oh my-! Fuck- so fucking good, fuck-” you wail out, your heart beating out of your chest as your pussy pulses around his cock, making an utter mess between your two lower halves. 

The flutter of you and the instant wetness consuming him is what sends Din to his finish line. He continues thrusting, shakily, through his own orgasm, his load coating every inch of you, both inside and out. You wanted a mess, so he truly gave you a mess. 

He releases the hold on your legs to wrap his arms around you, his entire body flush against yours as your legs wrap themselves tightly around him again. He’s still inside you, his hips softly still moving in and out as he leaves kisses all along your lips, your jawline, your neck. 

The way you feel, full of him and him, has your hips meeting his small advances, both of you reveling in the aftershock of your highs as you use the pleasure to ease you back down. 

“You okay, mesh’la?” Din asks eventually when you both come to an exhausted, satiated halt. 

“Perfect, my sweet boy,” you smile, repeating your sentiment from earlier. “You okay, though?” You ask hesitantly, and not about what you two just did together. He brings his lips to yours. Soft, and not in a way to arouse you again. In a way that says thank you and I love you in a way spoken tongue will never be able to convey.

“I will be,” he answers truthfully. “Pick a planet, you can pick me apart after we get food.”

“Sounds like a deal, baby.”

“Come, let’s get cleaned up.” He kisses your forehead before he untangles himself and pulls you up to your feet as well, both of you making your way to the refresher. 

In the corner of his eye, he sees his now semi-shiny boot, starting to dry off in the midst of everything else you two did. He smirks to himself. 

You catch it, of course. “What’re you smiling at, Djarin?”

“Nothing,” he says nonchalantly. “Just… I clean my armor and boots after every bounty.”

“And?” You ask, still not realizing where he’s headed. 

“I don’t know if I wanna clean my boots anymore.”

Your eyebrows raise to the middle of your forehead, eyes bulging out of your face. “Din!” you slap his chest. Then, your face goes stern. “You will be cleaning those boots more often if you want me to do that again."

Oh. 

“Yes, ma’am.”

End notes:

Thank you so much for reading, I really hope you guys enjoyed this one! Please let me know what you guys think, I really love hearing your guys’ reactions and feedback!🫶

Also, did y’all clock how many orgasms reader had in this damn thing?! Coochie of fucking steel fr 😭😭

Moon divider by @saradika-graphics 🩶

@pedrostories

[oliviajdjarin]

Din Djarin: Come and Get Me

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader (she/her; afab)

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: After a job leaves you trapped, you realize how much you have come to trust the legendary Mandalorian.

Excerpt: “Please don’t cry,” you heard him whisper, “please don’t cry, Y/N.”

“Come and get me,” you begged, “Din, please come and get me.”

“The house is likely on total lockdown,” he said. “There’s no way for me to get in.”

This only made you sob harder.

“Please, Din,” you said through gasps of air, “please don’t leave me alone.”

“I won’t leave you alone,” he said. It sounded like he was running now. “Not ever, you understand me?”

Warnings: claustrophobia, panicking, panic attack, crying, so much banter, dinny boy gets *stern, * but only because he is in love hehe.

A/N: happy dincember my people :)

Pedro Masterlist

All my writing

(gif credit to pinterest)

“Why are droids always so angry?”

A deep sigh arose through your comlink.

“Because everyone is always pushing their buttons.”

Silence.

“You’re holding back your laughter.”

“That is absolutely not what is happening,” Din responded, voiced husked with his ever-present exhaustion.

“I can feel it,” you countered. “You are actively killing braincells trying to hold it back.”

“That is not what is killing my braincells,” Din responded, and you gave a dry chuckle back.

“Just get the credits and get out,” Din said, “we have other jobs to do.”

“Yes sir,” you responded sarcastically, pulling down your mask. It was a soft obsidian fabric that covered everything but your eyes.

“Need I remind you it is your fault we are here in the first place?” Din asked, knowing it would push your own button.

Greef had known you since you were a kid, your parents always calling him a “close family friend.” In actuality, your parents were his most profitable bounty hunters, and they had worked with him until they physically couldn’t anymore.

Without hesitation, choosing you take their place.

They had trained you from birth, ingraining into you the strength, cleverness, patience, persistence, and of course the wit needed to be an adequate replacement.

In Greef’s own words, you were “more than adequate.”

You worked for him for over a decade before finally meeting the infamous Mandalorian. His name had been circling for a while before you met him, allowing him to climb the ladder of Greef’s good graces (a particularly slippery ladder, in your opinion), as well as the ladder of wealth. You didn’t mind at first, sticking to the lot of bounties Greef would assign you every month, and minding your business.

That was until this Mandalorian started getting your pick of the lot.

“He’s just as good as you are,” Greef had said to you. “Your skill sets are incredibly complimentary. It is best for me financially to have you both going at once.”

You scoffed into your drink. “Give me a break, smartass. Next thing I know it will ‘best for you financially’ to have us working together.”

“It was a joke, asshole,” you responded to Din. “I’ll admit, not one of my best.”

Din sighed and remained silent. After two dozen jobs together, he had learned how old that jab was becoming.

“Going in now,” you said quietly, pulling out your gun and – as quietly as you could – shooting through the lock on the front door of what had to have been the biggest house you had ever seen. The outside was made with some rare limestone that glimmered in the moonlight which, in your opinion, literally shouted “rob me.” The owners of this house had tricked Greef, running off with the sum of money he had owed you and Din for a previous job (quite convenient, if you said so yourself). Greef agreed to pay you and Din triple your original salary if you got it back for him.

And here you were.

The door squeaked on its hinges as you opened it, revealing a pitch-black living area. You took one step inside, and as you did, a generator must have kicked on, because the room was instantly lit up. You gasped, stepping back in fear of a possible alarm, but as you waited a few seconds, there was no such thing.

“You okay?” Din asked quietly. If you weren’t shitting your pants, you might have teased him for seeming like he actually cared.

“Yeah,” you responded, winded. “Yeah. Fine.”

You looked around the room, jaw falling open slowly as you did. It might as well have been a museum. Paintings, vases, chandeliers, stones, and jewels. You could tell one thing and one thing only.

Whoever these people were, they were fucking loaded.

“Hey, Din,” you asked.

“Yeah?”

“Did Greef say anything about being allowed to steal anything else?”

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Got it,” you said, and moved further into the house.

“Greef paid some gungan to have dinner with them, so there shouldn’t be anyone in the house.”

“I was at the meeting for this job, Din.”

“I know,” he said, “Just checking.”

His voice was laced with an undertone of…hurt. You didn’t have time to think about that.

“I’m headed to the master bedroom,” you said, weaving your way through objects worth more than you would ever see in ten lifetimes. “I’ll let you know when I find the box.”

“Alright,” Din responded, and you carried on.

You circled the first floor of the house, hemming and hawing at what seemed to be an endless supply of riches.

“Are we focused, Y/N?”

“Lazer,” you responded after almost touching the shiniest blue stone you had ever seen. “Nothing on the first floor.”

“Okay,” Din responded. “How-how you holding up?”

Your eyebrows wrinkled together. “Fine. How about you?”

“I’m good,” he said softly. “Just now realizing we have never done a job like this before. Me only hearing you through the comlink. I’m used to being next to you.”

“Oh, the poor Mandalorian, all alone in the desert, cursed with the job of keeping watch. You missing me big guy?”

“Just missing being faster than you,” he jabbed. “It’s good for my ego.”

“Har har,” you responded, opening the first door you found at the top of the stairs. “You can’t deny I give you a run for your money though.”

“You sure do,” he said, once again laced with emotion. What the fuck was with him?

And why did you keep noticing?

You opened the door and were welcomed by what had to have been the biggest bed you had ever seen in your life. It took up half the room, with the rest of it being looted with more treasures, including plants, shelves of books, and…

…a music box.

“Bingo,” you said.

“What does that mean?”

“It’s a game you play for fun,” you responded. “You wouldn’t be familiar with the concept.”

“Very original.”

“I’ll be here all night,” you said with a smirk, and walked to the box. You pulled it off the shelf delicately, feeling the weight of credits in the bottom. You laughed happily, unable to hold it in.

Din laughed too. He understood immediately.

You felt for the seal on the front and began to pull it open carefully. You got it about halfway open before it immediately shut, snapping your fingers into it.

“Mother –” you said, pulling your fingers out and holding them to your chest.

“You okay?” Din asked quickly, almost as soon as the word left your mouth.

“Yeah,” you said, flexing your fingers. You laughed lightly. “I think this house may be out to get me.”

As if you spoke it into existence, all the lights in the house suddenly shut down, soaking you in darkness. Strobe lights of red began to pulse on the ceiling, the door to the bedroom shut automatically, and an ear-piercing alarm permeated the room.

You were suddenly unmoving.

“Y/N?” Din asked, his voice a whisper above the alarms. “Y/N, what is that?”

The box fell from your grip.

“Din…” you said, chest constricting, muscles locking, brain failing. “Din…”

“What’s going on?”

You started shaking your head, making your way to the door slowly. You jiggled the doorknob, then pulled on it, then yanked on it, then threw your body into it.

It was no use. You were locked in from the outside.

“Din, I –” your voice cracked with a sob. “Din, I’m stuck.”

“What do you mean?” He sounded like he was walking.

“I’m-I’m trapped,” you said, sobs now fully escaping from your mouth. “Din I’m trapped. They know I’m here. They’re gonna…”

You couldn’t finish your sentence, hand cupping your mouth as you began to hyperventilate, because suddenly, you were a child again. Put up against one of your parents’ countless tests. Locked in a basement, or a ship, or your own room, forced to find a way out, told that in the real world, if you couldn’t find a way out, you would likely be killed.

You could never pasts their tests. Never.

“Din, they’re gonna kill me.”

“Shut up,” he said firmly. It sounded like he was moving faster. “You’re not gonna die.”

His tone was unconvincing.

“Din,” you cried, tears staining the fabric covering your face, snot soaking through it. Panic was seeping itself into your bones. “Din, what do I do? What do I do?”

“You’ve gotta find a way out.”

“I can’t,” you wheezed, body sliding down the door and onto the floor, the alarms and the red overstimulating your every nerve. “I can’t Din. It’s so loud,”

“Please don’t cry,” you heard him whisper, “please don’t cry, Y/N.”

“Come and get me,” you begged, “Din, please come and get me.”

“The house is likely on total lockdown,” he said. “There’s no way for me to get in.”

This only made you sob harder.

“Please, Din,” you said through gasps of air, “please don’t leave me alone.”

“I won’t leave you alone,” he said. It sounded like he was running now. “Not ever, you understand me?”

You nodded, now plugging your ears, and closing your eyes, rocking yourself back and forth subconsciously.

“I’m going to get you out of there,” he said, his voice suddenly nasally. “I swear to the maker I’m going to get you out of there. I just need your help, okay?”

You tried your best to gather breath. “Okay. Okay.”

“Okay,” he said. “I need you to see if there are any windows in the room. Can you do that for me?”

You swallowed, standing on shaking legs, ears still plugged. You squinted as you walked slowly, finally reaching a wall. You then felt the wall with one hand and walked forward until you felt something that resembled glass.

“I-I found one.”

“Good,” he said, sounding peculiarly winded. “Now, I’m going to need you to break it.”

You sobbed once more. “How?”

“Anything. Shoot at it, throw things at it, the fucking music box for all I care. Anything.”

You swallowed again, breathing in as deep of a breath as you could, before pulling out your gun. You felt the glass once again, and slowly backed away from it. You continued to release faint cries as you did, holding up your gun with quivering fingers, before letting blasts fly.

You heard some cracks as they landed against the glass. Once you halted your firing, you made your way back over to it, and realized they weren’t nearly enough.

“I’m going to have to kick it,” you said, some semblance of power returning into your voice.

Din didn’t respond.

You backed away again, breaths still rapid and voice still raw. But you gave that piece of fucking glass your all.

Your foot went right through it, cutting shards into your calf and ankle.

You grunted, falling back into the room.

“You get it?” Din asked, panting.

“Yeah,” you said, clutching your leg. “Yeah, I got it.”

“Good. Now stand up.”

You did.

“Walk to the window.”

You did.

“And jump.”

“What?”

“Jump now.”

It was in that moment that you realized that you truly, unequivocally, deeply trusted the Mandalorian. Because you jumped into the dark, cold night, and he caught you, mid-air.

You gasped as you landed in his arms, watching as the ground beneath you whizzed by, eyelids pealed back in awe.

A smooth, gloved hand framed your cheek and pulled your vision upwards, locking it into his visor.

You stared at him, the remnants of tears against the cold wind freezing your face, and yet his hand was the true culprit of your goosebumps.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly. The flames from his jet pack illuminating his armor in golds and reds.

You nodded. “I’m okay.”

He nodded, diverting his gaze to stare forward into the night, but keeping his hand pressed against your face.

You would say it was the shock, or the trauma, or the adrenaline pumping through your veins. In reality, all you wanted was comfort – his comfort. You couldn’t stop yourself.

You rested your forehead against the side of his visor and closed your eyes, scooting your body as close to his as possible as the two of you shot through the sky.

“Thank you, Din,” you said, tears escaping you once more. “Thank you.”

Din audibly swallowed, then removed his hand from your cheek and used it to remove your mask, before sliding his hand into the hair at the back of your neck.

“I swore to you I’d get you out of there,” he said, his voice crackly and weak. “I don’t break promises.”

You nodded against his visor, clutching desperately onto the fabric around his neck. He smelled of sweat, metal, and home.

“I’ve got you now,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”

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[lincolndjarin]

Best Kept Secret ☆

A MANDALORIAN SERIES MASTERLIST

[ COMPLETED ]

✩ a bodyguard!din x princess!reader fic ✩

series summary :

Married off to a prince on a planet that you hate? New husband doesn't know you, and doesn't want to know you? New husband gifts you a personal Mandalorian body guard as a wedding present? Mandalorian is a wiseass who won't leave you alone? Lucky you.

18+ mdni

do you like kitschy, campy romance novels? if you're reading this, I hope so.

behind the scenes & chapter notes + other extras (spoilers) :

chapters 1-5

chapter 6-15

spotify playlists

Lysa & Elaine information

the bks screen adaption

bks q&a

bks what if's

reader is generally not described past being picked up a few times, and having hair long enough to be put up

✩ chapters containing smut!

chapter one : honeymoon (6.7k words)

[ Absurd.

That is the only word that comes to mind as you stare at yourself in the mirror. “His favorite color is blue.” ]

chapter two : silent treatment (7.4k words)

[ Something is wrong. You bolt up from the pile of blankets that you call a bed and your eyes dart around the closet as you furrow your brow trying to discern why you feel so much different. ]

✩ chapter three : the smitten paladin (4.6k words)

[ You’re starting to think the planet isn’t the reason you’re so hot all the time.

You had woken up this morning feeling a bit better than you thought you’d be, your stomach is full of butterflies but you're still standing and considering the night you had you’re gonna take that as a win. ]

chapter four : sarad'ika (6.8k words)

[ Sarad'ika. 

You won’t forget it this time, you can’t. So you write it in your book, just under Mando’s favorite color you write the two little words that have been keeping you up at night. ]

✩ chapter five : lunar interlude : just a man (5.0k words)

[ Absurd.

It’s absurd how much the job pays. Din’s not even sure he should take it at this point because it’s too good to be true. ]

✩ chapter six : torment (5.1k words)

[ Okay, maybe you didn’t think this through. 

You didn’t think he’d actually come in and now suddenly the door is shut and you’re alone with him. ]

✩ chapter seven : just friends (3.1k words)

[ Maker it feels like it’s been an hour and you’re both just laying here. He was just inside of you; it shouldn't be so hard to find something to talk about at this point. ]

chapter eight : solar markets (5.3k words)

[ It’s nice to wake up excited again. 

You wish you could say that it happened more often but hopefully it will from now on. It’s going to be your first time leaving the castle grounds since you got here. ]

✩ chapter nine : shuk'la rules (5.6k words)

[ You need sex.

Normally you would be satisfied for quite some time after getting off but for some reason with Mando it was different. But it’s only been two days and you need more. ]

✩ chapter ten : lunar interlude : briikase gote'tuur (4.1k words)

[ He’s grateful for the break from you, even if brief. 

That’s not to say that he doesn’t enjoy every moment he gets to be in your presence but the more time he spends with you the harder it gets to remember that this isn’t real. ]

chapter eleven : he loves me not (4.6k words)

[ Something is wrong. 

All day it’s been wrong. 

He’s different. Distant. ]

chapter twelve : pretend (4.4k words )

[ Two days.

That’s what you’re willing to give yourself. Two days to get over it. One to get it all out of your system and one to pull yourself together. ]

chapter thirteen : lunar interlude : vercopa (3.5k words)

[ He did it.

He did exactly what he knew he needed to do.

So why does he feel worse than ever? ]

chapter fourteen : condemned (4.9k words)

[ You’re having trouble sleeping. 

You have no problem falling asleep, it’s mostly staying asleep. There’s a million different things that consume your thoughts and everytime you drift into unconsciousness you find yourself jolting awake, barely able to stay asleep for more than an hour at a time. ]

chapter fifteen : two tea parties (5.4k words)

[ “What did you do to her?”

Her voice breaks through his sleepy haze as he sits up properly. 

“Excuse me?” ]

chapter sixteen : absolution (4.6k words)

[ There’s a visceral sense of dread when you wake up, for several reasons. 

The glaring obvious culprit of your discomfort would be the fact that today’s your husband's birthday. ]

chapter seventeen : the apostate’s cabin (3.5k words)

[ Just Din. 

It’s sinking in as you walk in silence, holding his hand tightly as he pulls you towards his home. ]

chapter eighteen : portrait of a man (5.4k words)

[ It’s deliciously warm when you wake. You can feel his heartbeat and you can feel the soft traces of sunlight dancing along your back. You stretch in his arms slightly but freeze up as you feel him nuzzle his chin into your hair, planting a kiss against your hairline. ]

✩ chapter nineteen : reverence (7.3k words)

[ You really want to. 

You couldn’t possibly want to more than you currently do. 

It’s actually a bit mean. That he’s left you here in this state. ]

✩ chapter twenty : like real people do (8.4k words)

[ Mando and Din. 

All you can think about right now is how there must be two of them. 

You’re playing with his curls. ]

✩ chapter twenty one : te mirci't (9.0k words)

[ “It means I love you.” 

You aren’t entirely sure how long you stare at him, looking rather silly with your jaw practically on the floor. ]

✩ chapter twenty two : it’s you that i lie with (11.3k words)

[ Naboo has several trading ports. 

You could get him on a cargo ship. That would be the most inconspicuous form of transport. It would help if he was willing to ditch his armor. ]

✩ chapter twenty three : lunar markets (15.0k words)

[ Sneaking out of the castle gets easier every time you do it. 

It only takes a few minutes and you’re walking outside towards the forest trail, Din’s hand in yours, still giddy. ]

✩ chapter twenty four : lunar interlude : riduur (7.8k words)

[ He doesn’t deserve this.

How could he possibly be deserving of you? Yet somehow you make him feel as if he is. With your soft touch and the way your eyes get just a little bigger when you see him. ]

✩ chapter twenty five : wedding bells (11.7k words)

[ Four days of Leo. 

You were upset that Din was leaving you but you got over it rather quickly with the promise of his hasty return. ]

chapter twenty six : crucifixion (12.7k words)

[ “My room is too big.” 

He bursts into genuine peals of laughter and you gently smack his arm.

“Don’t laugh, it’s a serious issue! My room is enormous.” ]

chapter twenty seven : the apostate (6.0k words)

[ Silence.

That’s all there is in his brain. 

It’s hard enough as is for him to hear. It doesn’t help when he’s been beaten half to death. ]

✩ chapter twenty eight : a place for us (8.4k words)

[ You’d spent the better half of the day trying to get on top of him. 

Every time you managed to get close he’d simply set you down on the nearest surface with a kiss on the cheek and go back to doing whatever he was working on. ]

chapter twenty nine : the best kept secret (epilogue) (6.1k words)

[ The morning sun is warm against your face, you bask in it, unmoving and only half awake until you feel a tiny hand slapping your cheek. The illusion of tranquility is immediately shattered as you softly laugh. ]

[mellowswriting]

How about slow, sweaty, make up sex with Din Djarin! Thank you!

a real apology

pairing || Din Djarin x f!Reader

word count || ~ 900

summary || sweet, slow makeup sex

content || SMUT, unprotected p in v sex, din is whipped, fluff, no use of Y/N, unbeta'd (all mistakes are my own, and probably thanks to the tequila tbh)

a/n || I got progressively more drunk as I wrote this, so... enjoy!

Din Masterlist | Main Masterlist

You have no idea how long Din has had you like this - pinned beneath the heft of his body, your thighs shaking as his fingers and tongue coax yet another orgasm from you. He moans against you as he feels it hit. Your back arches, your nails dig into his scalp, and you cry his name so sweetly he damn near finishes right then and there. It feels like you’re floating, your body and soul detached under his talented touch. He doesn’t stop until you push his head away. Even then, he just occupies his mouth by trailing wet, sloppy kisses along your thigh. Goosebumps follow the brush of his stubble. 

Those dark eyes stare up at you, his pupils dilated as he takes in the vision you make beneath him. He can’t get enough of you. It’s been too long - damn near a week without those soft words and sweet touches he has grown so addicted to. It was stupid, a silly argument about a bounty of all things. Din knew almost immediately that he was in the wrong. Pride caught the apology he owed you between his teeth. 

None of that matters, now. Not when he’s searing his repentance into your body with every touch. 

“Have you forgiven me yet?” He asks before he presses a kiss to your navel. You hum a contemplative sound as he works his way up your body. The air is thick with the scent of sex, something he’s missed more than he realized. Your skin shimmers with sweat and Din just can’t stop himself. The flat of his tongue drags up your sternum. He just can’t get enough of your taste, even as you squirm beneath him. 

“I think you’re getting there.” You finally sigh, wrapping your arms around his shoulder and pulling his body flush against yours. The closeness settles that restless, agitated animal that has paced in his chest all week. Din leans closer, his arms bracketing your head, and he kisses you. It’s soft and sweet despite the way his cock throbs against your thigh. Your warmth soaks into him, bare skin against bare skin. As your hands cup his face, only one thought runs through his head. 

The only place in the universe he truly belongs to is in your arms. 

“Mmm…” You hum against his lips. “Definitely getting there.” 

Din can’t help but chuckle at that cheeky stubbornness he’s come to love. He drags his lips across your throat, reveling in the way your sass melts into a heady sigh. Your hands skirt down the planes of his back and settle on his ass with a playful squeeze. 

“C’mon, Djarin.” There’s an edge of demand in your tone, a little desperation. “Show me how sorry you really are.” 

That’s all it takes for him to sink into you with one devastating roll of his hips. All words slip away at the feeling of your cunt pulsing around him. Din presses you into the soft mattress, pinned beneath his full weight as if to keep you there forever. As if you would ever dream of going anywhere. The pace he sets is slow, a steady rock of his hips that leaves you wrecked beneath him. Your nails dig into his back, pulling him impossibly closer. 

“I’ve got you,” The whisper is soaked in affection and longing, a promise he always intends to keep. Din presses his forehead against yours, his dark eyes wide as he greedily consumes the sight of you. So pliant and vulnerable, consumed by the feeling only he can pull from you. 

Your eyes flutter and roll as he arches his hips just so, dragging against that sensitive spot until you shake. The angle lets him grind against your clit. He doesn’t let up, far too insatiable for the feeling of you falling apart under his touch. You’re so sensitive, so responsive to everything he gives you. Every sweet sound he pulls from you only makes him want more. It drives him fucking wild. 

“Don’t stop,” Your whispered plea slithers down his spine and pools in his belly, pure warmth and need searing into his very DNA. He has to bury his face in your neck. The way you look, all strung out and cockdrunk, threatens to end this far too soon. Your fingers dig into his hair as he works you closer to another devastating orgasm. “Oh, fuck -” 

A broken growl rips from his chest as you fall apart for him. He swears this is the closest he’ll ever get to nirvana in this damned life - the sound of you crying out his name, the wet gush of your cunt wetting his thighs, the feeling of your cunt fluttering around him. He follows after you only a beat after. His teeth dig into your shoulder as he buries himself to the hilt, stuffing you full of his cock as he spills inside you. 

The air fills with the sound of heavy breathing as you both come down, your bodies still entwined with one another. An atmosphere of peace settles around you like a thick, warm blanket. The way he melts into you only adds to that feeling. It’s impossible to tell just how long the two of you stay like this - so wrapped up in each other that you can’t tell who begins where. Neither of you wants to break that peace. His lips find that sweet spot over your pulse.

“I am sorry, cyare.” Din murmurs between short, sweet kisses. “Truly.” 

“I know.” You whisper. Your fingers drag through his messy mop of curls, scratching his scalp until he turns into a purring beast above you. “I forgive you.”

[imaginedisish]

The Only Exception (Din Djarin x fem!Reader)

A/N: Hey guys!!! Ahhh here is the Din Djarin x reader fic I said I’d post. This has been sitting in my WIPs since late November/early December. This is what I was working on before I got sick. I’m so happy it’s done. I’m pretty pleased with how it turned out, although I may have written something similar to this already. It’s very much inspired by “The Only Exception,” by Paramore. I’m hoping I didn’t use this song as a title yet....Oh well. ENJOY!

Summary: Din has been wildly overprotective of you lately, but maybe it’s because there’s something lying deep below the surface that’s been threatening to bubble over...

Warnings: SMUT!!!!! 18+ Please!!! Oral (f!receiving), fingering, PIV sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), cursing, canon typical violence, Jedi!reader, Razor Crest still exists (and it’s def bigger in my head than it is in the show), praise kink, friends to lovers, angsty but fluffy and smutty dw, I only proofread like 2 times so it may be bad (it’s 3:16am...so...we die like men!), AFAB reader, uhhh I think that’s it...

Word Count: 3,078

“I swear to the Maker, if you don’t get back on the Crest now, I’m gonna-,”

Din is cut off by the sound of your lightsaber clashing through the plastoid armor of the stormtrooper to your left. You swing your saber around, showing off more than you need to. You throw it down the alleyway, feeling through the force as it cuts through another stormtrooper before finding its way back to your hand.

“You’re gonna what?” You say, tilting your head to the side. You point your saber to the stormtroopers scattered around the alleyway. “I just saved you.” You close your saber and cross your arms cockily.

Din shakes his head, his gaze refusing to meet yours. “And where’s the kid? You just left him on the Crest?” You roll your eyes, turning your back towards him as you remove your cloak from your shoulders. There, in perfect condition, is Grogu, secure in a little carrier on your back.

“You really think I’d be that dumb?” Your words have a callous edge to them. Din had been far moodier than usual over the past few days, and with that came a strange overprotectiveness that you hadn’t seen before. It was starting to feel as if he thought you were going to mess up, that you couldn’t take care of yourself. “You think I’d put the kid’s life at stake?”

“That’s not what I meant.” The anger in his voice has all but melted away. You’re shocked by how defeated he sounds now.

You inhale deeply, taking a moment to calm yourself down. “So what did you mean, Din?”

“We don’t have time for this now.” He’s curt and almost a bit cold, his modulated voice echoing off the walls of the alleyway. “We need to get back to the ship.”

You hate the way he’s brushing you off, ignoring you, pushing you to the side. You didn’t need this; you didn’t need to put up with his shit. Not anymore. “What is going on with you?” The words come out louder, more aggressive than you meant them to.

Din takes a single stride towards you, his broad figure practically shoving you against the wall in the process. “We are not doing this here.” The feeling of him being so close to you clouds your mind. You can’t form a coherent thought, never mind a sentence. You want to say something, to stand up for yourself, but you can’t. “Now cut the shit so we can get back to the ship.” There’s that anger again, that finality in his voice.

In the distance you can hear stormtroopers chatting, whispering your name, mumbling on about Grogu, warning each other about the Mandalorian. Din was right. There was no time to hash this out here. You nod, finally caving in. Din takes a step away from you, immediately grasping your wrist in his hand before making a break for the Crest, just on the other end of the alleyway.

Somehow you make it without being seen. Din lets go of your hand, motioning for you to get on the ship. You make a b-line for the back and carefully remove Grogu from his carrier, placing him in his crib. You stand frozen in place in front of it, watching his eyes flutter open and closed as he slowly drifts off to sleep.

You don’t want to move. You rather watch the child you had come to care so deeply for sleep peacefully than deal with a massively enraged Din. The oncoming fight would most definitely wake Grogu, so maybe it was best for you to hide in the little corner that you had come to call Grogu’s bedroom, completely unnoticed. But obviously, that’s not an option. You begrudgingly step towards the end of the hull and decide to keep your hands busy by organizing the tiny stock of food that lined a makeshift shelf along the far wall.

You can hear Din’s heavy steps on the other side of the ship, presumably heading up towards the cockpit. After a few seconds and many annoyed grunts from Din, the ship is lifted into the air and away from danger.

You try your best to bring yourself to get angry at him, to yell some explicative across the hull of the ship and spit a curse in his helmet-covered face. You wanted the consequences, for him to storm over and scream back. But you couldn’t – because things weren’t normally like this. Din had always been kind, caring, protective even.

He'd leave the cockpit to grab a blanket from his cot when you fell asleep in the co-pilot’s chair. He’d come back and gently, yet silently, tuck you in with it. It was the only blanket he had. Sometimes you’d wake up in his bed, having been carried into it at some point during the night. He’d be awake, taking care of the child, flying the Crest, making sure nothing and no green baby woke you up.

You’d be lying if you said his doting behavior didn’t draw you to him, that it didn’t make you crave him. Every soft touch on your shoulder, every time you pretended to be asleep just to feel his arms wrap around you as he brought you to his cot. You’d let your stares linger a little too long from time to time, pushing past your reflection in his armor, searching for some sort of sign that maybe he feels the same.

You wanted him to come up behind you, rest his hands on your hips, squeezing softly at the exposed inch of skin where your top and your pants just can’t seem to meet, and whisper in your ear in that husky, modulated voice that he’s sorry, that he’ll make up to you by-

“Never, ever, do anything like that again.” You practically jump out of your skin at the sound of his voice. You quickly turn around, not realizing how close Din had gotten to you. His chest is practically flush against yours, the proximity causing you to stumble back against the shelf, threatening to bring it down with you.

Din immediately snakes an arm around your waist, keeping you from falling against the cold metal floors below. Your arms instinctively reach up around his neck to stabilize yourself. You’re glued to him now, and you don’t particularly want to let go. You swallow harshly, intimidated by the way the beskar clad man seems to tower over you, by the way you can smell him, by the way his forehead practically touches yours.

You take a deep breath, furrowing your brows and doing your best to collect your thoughts despite the fog that the moment seemed to create in your brain. “Do what? Save your ass?” You spit, instantly regretting the harshness of your words, even if he deserves them.

“You weren’t supposed to leave the ship.” He’s stern, his voice somehow punishing. “You were supposed to stay here with the kid.”

You shake your head, feeling far too much like a child caught playing in the front seat of their parent’s speeder. “You needed my help! You would’ve died out there without me! And I can handle myself,” You yell, trying to ignore how you could feel the rise and fall of his chest against yours. “If this is about risking the kid’s life, I promise you I wasn’t. I would never put him-,”

He cuts you off, “I know you wouldn’t, that’s not what this is about.”

What? You think to yourself, confused beyond belief. If this wasn’t about the child, then what could this possibly be about? “So then what’s the problem?” You ask, more aware of the way that Din is holding you against him now than you were before.

You can hear Din inhale deeply through the modulator. “You.” A shudder rolls down your spine. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed.” There’s still an edge in his voice, but he’s calmer now, almost pained, as if considering your death in some dark corner of his mind.

“Sorry that my death would be such an inconvenience for you,” You say sardonically. “It’ll be hard trying to replace me with some other force-wielding wizard that’ll be willing to babysit for you, since clearly that’s all I am.” You wanted the words to sting him, to hurt him, and maybe they did, but it felt like a punch in the gut to simply think them. You wanted to grab the words from where they still hung in the air and shove them back into your mouth, to swallow them so that they could burn in the acid of your stomach.

Din tilts his head down, crushed, defeated. Your heart winces. Fuck. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” His stare finds yours again, and you quickly look down at his shoulder, too embarrassed to have him look you in your eyes.

You shake your head. “But Din, that’s the problem,” You say, somehow finding the courage to meet his gaze. “I don’t know what you mean. How am I supposed to know what you mean if you won’t kriffing tell-,”

“Fucking hell, I don’t want to lose you!”

Your eyes widen. “What?”

Din looks around the hull, as if the words he was searching for were hiding, wrapped somewhere around its silver walls. “I can’t lose you. And before you ask, no, it’s not because you train the kid or whatever the hell you think it is.” You can feel the pain in his voice, guilt quickly filling your gut. “It’s just…” He trails off, silence hanging heavy in the air.

“Well…what is it?” You mumble, struggling to force down the lump in your throat. You wish you could see his face, to get a sense of his expression, an inkling as to what he was really feeling.

“You,” He says, as if those three letters held some secret, omniscient being or meaning. To him, they did. It was you. You were the thing that kept him up at night, the thing that made him want to show every facet of his being for the first time in his life.  “You’re reckless and careless and sometimes you drive me absolutely insane.”

You scoff. “Wow, what a glowing review of my services!”

Din shakes his head. “You don’t fucking get it. You’re so much more than that, because even though you drive me crazy,” He pauses; the modulator picks up his breath as it catches in his throat, “I know I’d never be able to spend an entire lifetime without you in it.”

You’re speechless. An entire lifetime? “Din I-,”

“Close your eyes.”

“What? You just said all that and you want me to close my-,”

“Just close your eyes. You trust me, don’t you?”

Of course I trust you, smart-ass, You think to yourself. So, you do what he says, shutting your eyes firmly. Then there’s a hiss, and then something clunks loudly against the floor. And then…

It’s warm, and soft, and smooth, and all those other perfect words someone would use to describe the perfect kiss. He has a mustache under all that metal, and now you know, because it tickles ever so gently just above your upper lip. His hands squeeze your hips just a bit tighter, pulling you further into his chest.

His lips press deeper into yours, hungrier. You keep your eyes closed tightly, your hands sliding up and into his hair, combing gently. He moans into your mouth at the touch as he guides you away from the shelf and towards his cot.

“D-Din,” You stutter in between gasps.

“What is it, mesh’la?” He presses a chaste kiss to your forehead.

You can feel the heat pooling at the bottom of your stomach, but there’s something stopping you, something telling you that there’s no possible way this could ever be real, that it wasn’t a set-up, that it wasn’t a dream. “Do you really want this?”

“More than anything.” You can hear the smirk in his voice, and you silently wish to yourself that you could see it. “Do you?”

You nod, repeating his words, “More than anything.”

His lips find yours again, his knee nudging in between your thighs as he pushes you down onto his cot. He’s on top of you now, his hands on either side of your body. “Wanted you for so long…” He whispers in your ear. “Wanted you this whole time.” Fuck, he was going to kill you.

Din presses sloppy kisses into the crook of your neck, leading up to your jaw. His hands stretch under the hemline of your shirt, his fingertips gliding across your stomach and towards the edge of your bra. You shudder as he reaches underneath, slowly inching towards your chest.

Something was changing within him, and that something was you. You made him want to throw his Creed away, to ignore all he had been taught his entire life. How could you ever possibly be something he shouldn’t have? He needed you.

More than anything. And you needed him.

“Please,” You beg. “I need you Din, please.”

And just like that, something within him finally switched.

“Open your eyes, cyare,” He’s so quiet you almost miss it. His fingers dip underneath your bra, rolling a nipple between his thumb and forefinger teasingly before doing the same to the other. “’Want you to look at me when I make you come.”

Panic rises to your chest. “W-what, are you sure? What about the Creed, what about-,”

“It doesn’t matter, not if it means I can’t have you.”

You wait a moment, giving him time to change his mind, but he doesn’t. You let your eyes flutter open, his curly hair and brown eyes flooding your vision. And Maker, there’s that smile, the smile you’d only heard through laughs and sarcastic, snide quips. You swear your heart skips a beat, maybe even two. He was perfect. Of course he was fucking perfect.

“You’re beautiful,” You whisper, your hands finding their way to his cheeks, his neck, your fingertips carefully running over his lips. His forehead rests down on yours, his eyes closing softly, reveling in the intimacy.

Din lifts himself off you and makes his way down your body, settling in between your legs. His fingers hook the waistline of your pants, tugging them down and throwing them somewhere in the hull. He feels your core through your soaked panties.

“So fucking wet for me, pretty girl,” He coos, practically ripping your panties as he pulls them down your legs. “Need to taste you.”

“F-fuck, Din,” You breathe sharply as his tongue laps at your clit, your hips lifting off the mattress. Din presses an arm across your hips, keeping you down against the cot, his free hand spreading your slick, teasing your entrance.

“’Tastes so good,” He rasps, his voice vibrating deliciously against your core. “Doing so good for me sweet girl.”

His mouth sucks harshly at your clit, taking the small bundle of nerves into his mouth, lapping at you like he was starving. You wanted more, needed more.

“N-need you, Din,” You whine, your hips fighting against the arm that held you down. He pushes you down further into the mattress, his mouth pressing even deeper onto your core.

“Not done with you yet,” He grunts, pushing two fingers into your entrance, pumping in and out, fast and hard. You could feel yourself growing closer with each thrust.

You moan his name like it’s a prayer, and in this moment it is. “Din, please, I, just…” But you can’t finish your sentence. It’s all too much, his fingers, his tongue, his voice, him. He was everywhere and everything all at once. And yet you needed more.

“Use your words, sweet girl,” He says patiently, nonchalantly.

“I want…” Your words fail again. “I…need you to f-fuck me, please.”

But he doesn’t stop, he keeps going. “I said I wasn’t done with you yet.” You could feel your walls fluttering around his fingers, teetering just on the edge.

“I’m so close,” You pant in between ragged breaths.

And then, abruptly, he pulls away, leaving you cold and empty. Before you can even think to sit up or reach out for him, he was back, his hips resting against yours, his pants and armor now somewhere scattered to the side. You could feel his cock throbbing against your inner thighs. He lines himself up with your entrance, teasing you.

“Din,” You whimper. “Plea-,”

He buries himself inside you, cutting you off, stretching you out. “So fucking tight,” He praises, pulling all the way out before thrusting back into you, filling you up again. “So soft, so perfect.” His fingers find your clit, circling the nerves roughly.

His forehead rests on your own as his left-hand searches for your right one. His fingers intertwine with yours just above your head, keeping you from drowning, cementing you there with him. It all feels so good, each pump, each circle at your clit. You can feel your walls clenching around him.

“Taking me so well,” He soothes, rocking into you. “Such a good girl.” It was all too much, his words, his cock.

“I-I’m gonna-,” You choke, white heat flooding your vision. You know Din isn’t far behind, his hips stuttering against yours.

“Come for me, sweet girl, that’s it,” Din moans, sending you over the edge. You feel yourself shattering underneath him, falling apart into a million pieces, only to be put back together again. His name slips off your tongue as he comes inside you.

His hips roll slowly against yours, gently rocking into you a few more times before pulling out.  

He shifts a bit so that you can comfortably lay on his chest. After all that, there’s only one thing you can think about.

“You wouldn’t be able to live without me?”

You look up at Din. His smirk stretches into a smile. He presses a kiss to your forehead. “I wouldn’t, no.” He says it so matter-of-factly, so simply, as if it was common knowledge. “I need you. I always have.”

“I need you too.” He was the only person you had ever needed, the only exception. You didn’t need to tell him. He knew. Always has, always will.

You are the only exception

You are the only exception

And I'm on my way to believing

Oh, and I'm on my way to believing

[dindjarindiaries]

Fight For Me

summary: When Din starts to get harassed at a cantina, you can’t help jumping in to defend him at all costs.

pairing: din djarin (the mandalorian) x reader

warnings: angst, strong language, mentions of trauma, canon-typical violence, injuries & blood, hurt/comfort, fluff

rating: T

word count: 3.175k

main masterlist • din djarin masterlist

You tugged on the hood of your poncho to conceal more of your face from view. “We’ve got a lot of eyes on us.”

“I told you.” Din’s modulated voice was low as he took a subtle step closer to your side. “We’re near Mandalorian Space.” You stole a glance over at him just in time to catch the quick tilt of his helmet. “The people out here aren’t fond of my kind.”

“I just…” You paused as the two of you passed another pedestrian, your chin and your gaze lowering until they were out of sight. “I thought you said Akiva was the first planet to pledge their allegiance to the New Republic.”

“They were.” Din’s gloved hand pulled into a fist at his side. You noticed it just as a bead of sweat began to trickle down your temple. “They wanted a change after years of the Empire ordering almost every Mandalorian warrior to do their bidding.”

“I see.” You exhaled and lifted your hand again to brush the sweat away. “It’s hot as hell here.”

Din huffed. “It’s known for its humidity.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “And yet you let me wear this?” You gestured to the thick poncho that sat over your head and shoulders.

“Staying concealed is a bigger priority than staying cool. We won’t be here for long.” Din nodded towards a building on the right. “Here.”

You read the Aurebesh letters that hung overhead the building’s round entrance: cantina. That was the last place you wanted to be on a world where Din and his kind weren’t welcome, but there wasn’t much of a choice. It was your first, and so far your only, lead on finding the new location of whatever remained of Din’s covert.

Din led the way inside, and as soon as he crossed the threshold, the chatter dimmed. Hushed voices spoke as Din wove the two of you through the tables and other crowds, carrying through the cantina until each voice rose back to its previous volume. You tightened your jaw and remained vigilant. Din may not have been worried about the actions of others, but you sure as hell were.

You stayed at Din’s side as he reached the bar, his gloved hands settling on top of it as he instantly gained the attention of the bartender. The Zabrak man tossed his hand towel on his shoulder and looked at Din expectantly. “What can I get started for you?”

Din reached into the pouch on his belt and set down a handful of credits. “Nothing to drink.” He slid the credits forward. “Just information.”

The bartender gave the pile of credits a cautious glance. “What makes you think I have something worth knowing?”

Din looked left and right before he leaned forward, lowering his voice in a much gruffer way than he would ever do with just you. “Nevarro.”

The bartender did the same gesture as Din before he secured his hand over the pile of credits. “Hold tight.” He pocketed the credits into his apron and nodded. “I’ve got something in the back.”

Din returned the nod, assuming his previous posture as the bartender disappeared into a back room. You crossed your arms and set them upon the top of the bar. Your voice was a hushed whisper as you spoke. “Do you believe him?”

Din shrugged. “We’ll see.” He exhaled, as if attempting to release some of the invisible weight that hung upon his armored shoulders. Your heart ached at the thought of it. “There’s no other option right now.”

“You shouldn’t be here.” A booming voice disrupted any thought you were going to voice in reply to Din. Your head turned as you observed the Klatooinian who stood behind the two of you. Your blood both ran cold and red-hot at the same time as you watched the Klatooinian snarl at Din’s back.

Din’s helmet didn’t move, his visor instead focusing ahead of himself as he tapped his gloved fingers against the bartop. Your gaze slid over to him as you waited for him to speak, but he didn’t.

“You know what your kind did to us—to this entire system.” The Klatooinian scoffed, his guise of amusement failing in favor of his lethal anger. He raised an arm to gesture to the onlookers around them. “I speak for everyone here when I say we would take any chance we could get at killing you ourselves.”

“I don’t think your Republic would take kindly to that.” You couldn’t help yourself from biting out the words. Din’s visor slowly slid towards you, a silent warning you failed to heed.

The Klatooian’s vicious eyes found yours. He then laughed, a grating sound that stung you and made you curl your hands into fists on the bartop. “You’re on the wrong side of the planet if you want New Republic support, dustbreather.”

Din tensed at the insult the Klatooinian threw at you, but he still didn’t speak. Of course he wants to defend me more than himself.

The Klatooinian had since set his attention back on Din. “Your kind was eliminated for a reason.” He took another step closer to Din’s back. Your fists tightened even more, until the leather on your hands groaned in protest. “You shouldn’t be here.”

Your gaze burned through the side of Din’s helmet. His visor faced you as he gave his helmet a small shake, but you were already blinded by your rage. His way was not your way.

“Peel that armor off and what are you?” The Klatooinian scoffed and took one more step closer. “Nothing but a man who should’ve died with the rest of his—.”

You lunged in a movement so quick not even Din could have stopped it as you slammed your fist as hard as you could against the Klatooinian’s jaw. The entire cantina roared as every eye settled on you, especially as you shook out your stinging hand and faced the Klatooinian who was barely still standing. Din had whipped around at your side, but even he was frozen as you sized up the Klatooinian.

“Oh, you bitch!” the Klatooinian seethed as he swung towards you. You skillfully dodged his blow and elbowed his ribs, using the opportunity to hit him with an uppercut. The commotion amongst the onlookers rose more and more as you evaded the Klatooinian’s hits and dealt him more of your own.

It was all a blur of blood, sweat, and hot fury until two arms wrapped around your waist from behind and pulled you tight against a beskar barrier. You fought against the grasp, the hood of your poncho having long since fallen away from your face as you swung towards the Klatooinian who had to be supported by his peers. “Fuck you!” you spat at your opponent. “You haven’t gotten even half of what you deserve!”

You tried to push off of Din to lunge at him again, but Din’s grasp only got tighter as he pulled you back to him. “Easy,” his modulated voice gently warned you.

“That man deserves to be dead!” The Klatooinian points a weary finger in Din’s direction.

You fought Din’s grasp again, pushing even harder against him that time. “I’ll show you who deserves to be—!”

Din forced you against himself so hard that it stole the air from your lungs for a moment. “Easy, cyar’ika.” The lip of his helmet was just beside your ear as he went on. “That’s enough.” He freed one arm from your waist to hold the wrist of your bleeding hand, forcing your arm behind you. “We have to go.”

His words made you snap out of your state of bloodlust as you turned your head around to face his helmet. “But we haven’t gotten your information.”

“Doesn’t matter. Half this cantina wants to fight you, and…” Din paused, his grasp easing on your wrist as he looked down at your hand, “you’re bleeding.” His voice lowered in worry.

“I’m fine.” You faced your opponent with indignance again. “I can take them.”

“No.” The arm Din still had around your waist gave you a gentle yet firm tug away from the growing crowd around the Klatooinian. “We’re leaving.”

Trying to argue with Din about that would be a losing battle, and so you sighed and started to follow him out. Before you could get far, someone whistled from the bar area. Din’s visor locked on something behind you, and when your gaze followed it, you found the bartender nodding at Din before tossing something in the air. Din released you only to catch it. He then returned the Zabrak’s nod and continued on.

“What is it?” Your curiosity got the best of you even as you and Din had to shoulder your way out of the rowdy cantina.

“Coordinates.” Din put your hood back over your head for you and led the way onto the street.

You furrowed your brow and cradled your stinging knuckles. “To where?”

“We’ll find out.” Din was clearly navigating for another specific place as he wove you through the fray. With the adrenaline of your fight still pumping through your veins, it was hard for you to focus, and that was something Din had no doubt picked up on.

Still, there was a more sickly sensation that prickled at you like a thousand icy needles, the chill of it settling inside your chest even amidst the humidity of the planet. You made your concerns known in a voice much quieter than you would have liked. “Are you upset with me?”

You earned no response. Din’s visor continued to look from building-to-building, and he moved at a pace that was getting difficult to keep up with. The needles turned into one sharp blade that sliced through your heart as you ultimately stopped in your tracks.

“You’re upset with me.”

Din stopped just a few paces ahead of you, but in an instant, he had closed the distance between you again. For a moment, his gloved hands cradled your face. “No. Not at all.” His helmet lifted in realization of your surroundings, his hands soon following as they settled on your shoulders instead. “I just… I want to get you somewhere safe.” He shifted his weight between his feet. “Now.”

“Here?” You lifted your brow in surprise. “Didn’t you hear what that guy said?” You shook your head at him. “Anyone here would kill you if they could.”

“But they won’t, because they can’t, and they know it.” Din tilted his helmet at you. “I told you these people aren’t fond of me, not that they’re a threat to me.” He nodded at your bruising hands. “Especially with you here to back me up.”

You began to smile at that. Din gave your shoulders a squeeze and turned away from you to continue on through the town. It wasn’t long before he found what he was looking for, a reliable source of lodging with a business owner who wouldn’t turn down any customer, not even a Mandalorian. He navigated the two of you once more to your own quarters and stepped through the threshold first only to be sure he could observe the room for threats before you followed.

As soon as the door was closed and secured behind you, Din slipped off his helmet and set it aside, his hands reaching for your face once again. This time, Din didn’t have to worry about eyes on you, and so he leaned fully into you and the bliss you two could share by pinning you between himself and the nearest wall and kissing you like his life depended on it.

Your arms wrapped around Din’s neck to keep him close as his mouth slotted over yours time and time again, his tongue lavishing praises onto you without having to speak a single word. You met his familiar rhythm with each movement, a pattern as familiar as your own heartbeat that thudded against your chest. It was a moment where the stinging in your hands faded and the worries of what Din thought dissipated completely.

He was making it clear how he felt about the situation, and you wanted to keep feeling it—at all costs.

Eventually, though, your lungs cried out for air, forcing your mouths to separate even as Din stayed close. His gaze, sparkling with affection even amidst his worry for you, found your own as he forehead rested against yours. His voice was a mere rasp from both its quietness and his lack of breath. “Thank you for defending my honor.” His thumb ran over your lips.

You smiled and kissed the pad of his thumb. “You never have to thank me for that.”

“I know.” Din returned your smile and brushed his lips against yours. “But I will anyway.” He kissed you again, but this time, he kept it brief. His concern no doubt got the best of him as he pulled away and lifted his hands to hold your wrists. He pulled them away from his neck and studied your hands, his smile transforming into a worried grimace. “Let’s take care of this.”

You continued to beam at him. “Sure.”

Din set one hand over your lower back as the other kept its gentle grasp on your wrist. He led you over to the single bed in the room, and you took your place on the edge of it, sitting just beside Din’s helmet. Din disarmed himself of his spear and jetpack before reaching into the pouch of medical supplies on his belt.

“It doesn’t hurt that bad.” You started by taking the leather off your hands, gritting your teeth to keep yourself from groaning at the way it tugged at your angry skin.

Din huffed, raising his brow in amusement as he took the pieces of leather from you and set them aside. “You’re almost as bad at lying as I am.”

You laughed at that, making room for him to sit beside you as he took one of your hands in his and started to work. Din began with your dominant hand, which was more beat-up than your other hand. You spoke to him as he worked, hoping it would ease some of the tension that knit his armored shoulders together. “How would you rate that fight?”

Din paused and looked at you with a wrinkled brow. “What do you mean?”

You offered him a mischievous smile. “I mean, how did I do?”

Din blinked at you for a moment. “How did you do?” He chuckled and shook his head, focusing on your hand again even as he responded. “Cyar’ika, he was barely conscious standing up.”

“So?” You tilted your head at him and smiled sweetly. “What do you rate it, then?”

Din smiled to himself while he traded a tube of bacta for a secure wrap. “There are no words for it.”

“Oh.” You feigned disappointment and looked away from him, your gaze settling on his empty helmet that was still nearby. “How else will you tell me your rating, then?”

Din’s gaze flickered up at you, but only for a moment. “I have ideas.” He lifted your bandaged knuckles to his lips and left a gentle kiss upon them before he exchanged that hand for your other one. “But finishing this is my priority.”

The sweet warmth of overwhelming affection and desire burned throughout your chest,and you gave yourself a few moments to recover from its powerful effects. Once you had waited long enough, you spoke in a softer voice. “Why didn’t you say anything?” When Din’s brow lifted in confusion, you elaborated. “To that guy at the cantina.”

Din sighed, his jaw tightening before he loosened it again. “You know me. I’m… not a man of many words.” He exchanged the bacta for another clean wrap. “I’ve always found that actions speak louder than words, anyway.” Din gave you an amused look. “You just beat me to it.”

You smiled to yourself. “I guess that’s what makes us a good match.”

“It’s one of many things.” Din paused to focus as he circled the wrap around your hand. “The way you can throw punches is…” Din had to stop again, but this time, his gaze raised to the ceiling as if he was summoning composure from some unknown source. You chuckled at him as he exhaled a soft breath and looked at your hand again. “It’s an advantage.”

You teased him by looking at him through your lashes, blinking them slowly as he finished with your hand and allowed his gaze to meet yours. “Yeah?”

Din lifted his hand towards his lips without breaking your shared gaze. “Yeah.” He kissed your bandaged knuckles and lowered your hand. His eyes studied it as he nodded in sudden severity. “Truly, cyar’ika, what you did… it means a lot.” He gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “I’ve never had someone fight for me like that. No one except…” He trailed off. He didn’t have to say the name.

You raised the bandaged hand he wasn’t holding to caress the side of his face. Din’s gaze met yours again, and the deep admiration within it was breathtaking—but so was the deep longing hidden behind it. When you spoke, your voice was quiet yet meaningful. “I miss him, too.”

Din closed his eyes and nodded. After a long pause, he reopened his eyes and tasked himself with putting his medical supplies back in his belt. He exchanged them for the coordinates the bartender had given him. “Knowing the covert, this probably leads to the system they’re hiding in.” Din returned to business and you met him there, nodding at him to agree with his words. “It’ll take some more work to find out exactly where they are.”

“That’s fine.” You set a hand on his cuisse as you smiled in reassurance. “I’m with you every step of the way.”

Din’s gaze drifted from your hand on his armored thigh to your own eyes as he returned your smile. “I know.” He put the coordinates back in his belt and let his expression morph into something more mischievous as he faced you again. “So.” He cleared his throat, and you giggled at his clumsiness. He was smoother than you could have ever expected at some times, but this wasn’t one of them. “About that rating.”

You laughed, lifting your bandaged hands to the sides of his face to bring him closer to you. “You can just kiss me.”

Din chuckled with you until his amused breath became your own, one action that led to a long string of others proving exactly how grateful and proud he was of your actions that day.

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